Christy ran down the beach house stairs, her hand skimming along the railing, sending blue flecks of peeling paint flying like fireworks.

      Behind her she heard the familiar words yelled down at her by her sister.

      “Call me every two hours and let me know you’re ok!”

      Christy yelled over her shoulder as her feet sunk into the sugary white sand.

      “OK, warden! Every two hours --- on the dot!”

      She laughed. She was graduating next week and then off to college, and still her sister worried over her like the proverbial mother hen.

      She wiggled her toes in the sand, loving the feel of it, admiring the hot pink color of her toenails against the white powder. She’d decided to wear foot jewelry instead of thongs and the high toned jewels set off her feet to perfection, plus it let her relish the feel of the sand. She smiled and turned to her right, walking towards the carnival that had set up for the weekend. She could see the multi-colored lights winking to life as the sun began to drop towards the ocean, and snippets of music from the rides came rushing forward and then dissolved as the tide drowned them out.

      Excitement danced through her, making her blue eyes sparkle and she picked up her pace. She could see the stage they’d erected earlier in the day for the band, and she knew her friends were probably already there, waiting. She also knew they’d want to know what the gypsy had told her that afternoon. They’d all laughed and warned her that it was just a lot of bunk, but she knew they’d all be dying to know what the woman had said.

      For a moment the sparkle in her eyes clouded as she remembered the reason she’d gone. She’d had the same dream three nights in a row and it was beginning to frighten her, but the gypsy seemed to think it was nothing. She’d cut the cards and then smiled and reassured her.

      “It’s nothing, sweetness --- it is a young man coming into your life --- See? Here’s the knight, coming to add a little fun in your life for now, and a deeper love in the future. Fate is bringing him to you --- he is a love from your past life and has returned to be with you once more.” The gypsy smiled at her and then paused, as if listening to someone. When she spoke her voice was a touch more serious. “Ahhh …this one who comes is different from most … this one remembers … he will know you immediately … and he will make sure that you know him.”

      Christy had laughed nervously, relieved that at least the dream hadn’t had some darkly sinister meaning. The dream had been of Pan, dancing around her, playing a hauntingly beautiful song on his flute, trying to entice her to follow him. At first it had felt almost mystical, like something that had happened to her long ago, but after two more nights of the same dream it had started to make her uneasy.

      A sudden blast of guitar music interrupted her thoughts and she could see the guys in the band tuning up. She hurried her steps and within a few seconds was inside the parameter of the carnival.

      People were rushing past her through the entrance, paying money and getting their hands stamped. She flicked her hand under the light as she went through the gate, and the stamp on her hand lit up lime green, her calling card from seeing the gypsy earlier in the afternoon.

      She blended into the crowd, pulled in by the flow and eventually found herself heading towards the stage. Her friends were already there, waving at her, arms motioning for her to move faster. She laughed, stopped, put her hand on her hip and cocked her head to the side, rolling her eyes like, yeah so?

      Suddenly the main guitar went through a loud riff, caterwauling like a wolf whistle, and she turned her head in its direction.

      The guy in front of the mic held the last chord --- drawing it out, long and sweet. He was bare-chested and his leather pants were a buckskin color --- and his face was Pan.

      Christy caught her breath and her eyes grew wide, her pupils dilating with a feeling of déjà vu.

      Slowly, the guitar player raised his left hand and eased the mask from his face. Eyes as blue as her own gazed down at her for a moment before dropping her a languid wink.

      Caught up in the mood, she tossed her hair, flirting back, and then laughed, playing with him as she began walking towards the stage, sure that all of this had to be some kind of a set-up. She barely noticed her friends still waving and pointing at something behind the guitar player as she reached the wooden barrier.

      The guy put his hand over the mic, turned his wrist and looked at his watch. He smiled and then leaned forward, his face close enough for her to see the flecks of gold in his eyes. When he spoke his voice was warm and soothing, and felt strangely familiar.

      “When you phone your sister, see if it’s ok if I walk you home. I promise we’ll get there before it’s time for the next call.”

      She blinked, and her lips parted in surprise. How could he have known that? The gypsy’s words came back to her with a jolt, and she watched, mesmerized as he straightened up and stepped to the side, no longer blocking the name of the band.

      The name Pan-Demonium flashed beacon white in the glare of the surrounding arcade lights and the eerie call of Native American flutes came floating out of the band’s speakers, playing the familiar song.

      The Pan man turned and looked at her, and smiled.