Drake sighed in exasperation. On and on. He couldn't stand it any longer. For the past 15 minutes Shea had been going on about her hair.

"How could you?... My hair... Oh my poor beautiful hair..."

He'd just about had enough. Just as he was about to chasten her about her childish behavior, a splitting headache seared his temples. He writhed in a pain that forced him to his knees in agony. Confusion filled his mind and he couldn't gather his thoughts. Then, a voice spoke out through his mind. A familiar voice. The voice of High Master Greta.

"Run Drake... You must take the girl and run... Please Drake... You must go now... Take the girl... Trust no one... He is...