Welcome to Gaia! ::

CHAPTER ONE
25 June 2005

Alone as she was, she found the hard handle of the sword to be something of a comfort, regardless of the blood spattered across the wall before her. Of course, the fact that she was the one holding the sword, along with the realization that none of the blood was in fact hers might have had something to with that feeling of comfort. Certainly swords were not something she normally carried around with her. They had never held an attraction for her, at least not until now.

"Hey."

She spun around at the sound of the soft voice, trying to lift the sword and meet the new threat. Instead, she simply succeeded in dragging the point of the sword through the blood smeared on the stone floor, so that now it rested between herself and the newcomer. Fortunately, the man did not seem to be a threat. He was tall, his form draped in a rough brown cloak. His hair and neatly trimmed beard were the color of unpolished brass, and his pale blue eyes stared unblinking as he extended his hand.

"I believe that's mine," he said, his tone still soft. She blinked at him once, and then took a step back, allowing the heavy sword to crash to the floor. For the first time, she looked around the room and saw the devastation. She was in what had once been a moderately busy tavern. Now it resembled nothing so much as a rather messy abattoir. The man bent down and picked up the sword, carefully wiping it off before replacing it in the sheath at his side. "You shouldn't stay here," he said.

"What happened?" she finally managed to ask, somehow unable to take her eyes off the pair of severed legs lying beneath one of the tables.

"We really should leave," the man said, his tone more urgent this time. She turned to look at him. His eyes held a measure of concern for her, but there was a hardness behind them that made her wary.

"Tell me what happened," she insisted.

"Not now. Not here." Without waiting for her to protest, he gripped her wrist and led her from the room, pushing the outside door open with his free hand. As she was pulled out into the moonlit street, she suddenly found the fresh air nauseating. Wrenching away from the man, she bent over some bushes and tried to vomit. Nothing came up, and she felt worse for the attempt. She felt him try to grab her wrist again.

"Please, wait," she whispered, stifling a rising sob.

"We don't have time," he urged, but stepped away, turning his back on her to watch the empty street. She took a deep breath and looked up at the stars. The sky was cloudless and the moon was nearly full, giving clean, crisp edge to everything around her. She glanced over at the man, gathering her wits about her before finally speaking.

"Who are you?" she asked, proud of herself for keeping the fear she still felt from putting a quaver in her voice.

"No-one of consequence," he said, still not looking back at her.

"Who are you?" she repeated, not sure if she should be indignant or terrified of the stranger. Sighing, the man turned to face her.

"My name is Weston. I'm a part of a team hired by your mother to bring you home."

"My mother?" she stared at him in disbelief. "Home?" She waved her hands wildly. "This is my home. I left that life behind " She felt indignation replace her fear. "Did you kill those people?" she demanded, advancing on the man. For his part, the man stood his ground, glaring down at her. Had she not been so angry, her fear might have stopped her. Instead, she waited, returning his glare until he spoke.

"Don't be foolish," he growled. "Of course I didn't."

"Your sword..." she began.

"...was in your hands," he finished. The two of them stared at one another for another moment.

"So what did happen?" she asked, realizing he hadn't answered her earlier question.

"I don't know. I was asleep upstairs. I came downstairs to find you standing in the middle of... that." He gestured helplessly back towards the door of the tavern. She watched his eyes, unsure whether or not to trust him. Finally deciding she had no reason not to, she sighed and nodded. The man gestured toward the road. "Can we get going now?"

"I don't see why I should go with you. My mother knows I chose this life." She felt absurdly discomfited by the man's insistent nature.

"She needs to have the heir to the throne close by." By the tone of his voice, the man felt he didn't need to be explaining this to her.

"I'm not the heir. I stepped down. My brother is the heir."

"Your brother and father were taken prisoner by Orcs a fortnight ago," he said. "Until they are rescued, you are the heir apparent." She stared at the man in shock.

"What?" She felt as if the world had been torn away from her.

"We need to go, Princess," the man urged.

"Don't call me that," she snapped. "I left that title a long time ago. My name is Moryera. Just... Moryera."

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CHAPTER TWO
29 June 2005

Impatience is as impatience does. Or at least that's what Ruevian told herself as she waited for the others to arrive back at their campsite. She was tired of always being the first back. It unsettled her to have to sit doing nothing while the others were away.

"Ho there, Rue," a voice came from down hill. Ruevian raised her hand in greeting as Ananel trudged up toward the campfire. Setting down his staff and prayer book, the priest settled down next to the fire and began warming his hands.

"Did you find her?" Ruevian finally asked.

"Not a trace," the priest admitted, "but I expect the others had more luck than we have."

"They'd better have," Ruevian groused. She toyed listlessly with her dagger for a bit, rolling it across her knuckles and weaving it between her fingers.

A sound in the bushes caught her attention, and the knife was away without a second thought. It thudded into a tree, silencing the rustling sounds. A moment later, a voice spoke up: "Ruevian?"

"Arcadian?"

"Yeah. Can you stop throwing knives at me?" The paladin emerged from the bushes, his light chain glinting in the moonlight. He handed Ruevian's knife back to her, then sat down next to the snickering priest. "It's not funny, Ananel." Arcadian glared across at Ruevian, but was unable to keep his face straight. "Okay, maybe a little."

"If you weren't sneaking around in the bushes..." Ruevian began.

"I wasn't sneaking. Honest. I just happened to come from that direction." He glanced around the camp. "No luck?"

"None," Ananel said. "It's all on Weston now."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I can't believe I let you talk me into this," Mory said, brushing her lilac-tinted hair out of her eyes.

"Where else were you going to go?" Weston asked, not unkindly.

Mory sighed, hating to admit even to herself that the man was right. Everything she owned fit into the small satchel that she carried now, and without any real reason not to, she found herself going along with the man who would take her back to Highguard.

Not the first place she wanted to be going, but it had been a while since she had been back, and it might be nice to see the place again, even under the circumstances. Besides, she still had a duty to the people, even if she had tried to set aside that responsibility.

"Is it close?" she asked, trying to keep the wheedling tone from her voice.

"Closer than the last time you asked," Weston replied. He seemed content to amble along, clearly in no hurry to get to where they were going. Mory sighed again, wondering for not the first time whether or not this trip was a wise idea.

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Ruevian peeled the apple deftly, the knife flying across the surface, removing the skin in one long strip. She liked apple skins, but preferred them apart from the apple, dried and sweetened slightly with honey. She sliced the apple in half, then halved the halves and tossed a quarter to her companions, first to Ananel and then to Arcadian. The two men munched on the fruit solemnly as they watched the dying embers of the fire in the first rays of the dawn.

"Maybe he's not coming," Arcadian said. He glanced over at Ruevian questioningly. She had known Weston the longest, and the two of them had founded the Gray Legion. Members had come and gone over time, but she and Weston had remained the leaders, in name if not in actual authority. Still, most members deferred to her in certain matters - out of fear if not out of respect.

"He'll be here," Ruevian growled. "He knows what I'd do to him if he didn't show." She turned to Ananel. "You remember that Caliph out in Flatsalt?" Ananel apparently did, as his face turned a decidedly green color at the mention of the man. Ruevian ignored his distress, nodding to herself. "Yep, I'd do something like that to him. Except I might let him keep his testicles." She paused thoughtfully. "Well, one maybe."

Arcadian blinked at the two of them. "Before my time?" he asked.

The priest nodded, swallowing. "He served as an example of why it's a bad idea to try to cheat Rue when it comes time to pay us for our services." He glanced over at the assassin, who was toying with her dagger, a thoughtful smile on her lips. "A very bad idea."

"I can imagine," Arcadian said. He poured himself a cup of hot water from the boiler next to the fire. Though it should have been long cold, the priest's prayers kept it warm. Of the four, the young paladin felt closest to the priest, though the older man had been exiled by the temple for rank heresy. Even so, Arcadian trusted Ananel with his life, and there was no-one he would rather have at his back than the renegade priest.

After a few minutes of companionable silence, Ruevian excused herself and headed down toward the lakeshore to bathe. The two men remained behind, as neither wanted to be accused of anything untoward where the fiery assassin was concerned.

After she had been gone for a short time, Arcadian turned to his companion. "Are she and Weston?"

"No," Ananel said flatly. "It's not like that. There was..." He paused for a moment, looking pained. "There was someone else."

"Who?"

"We don't talk about him," the priest replied quietly, his voice taking on a warning tone. "Ever. And especially not in front of Rue."

Arcadian nodded. He understood the necessity of secrecy in a group like this. Some things were business, and other things were personal. This seemed like both, and so was simply best left alone.

For now.

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CHAPTER THREE
30 June 2005

When Ruevian had returned from the lake, Ananel rose and walked down the wooded path toward the lake. This spot was one of the prettiest and most convenient locales they had been situated at in a while, and the mission itself was certainly nothing that would weigh heavily on his conscience. Sometimes he wondered that he had a conscience left after all the horrors he had seen. Horrors he had sometimes helped alleviate. Horrors he had sometimes helped perpetrate. It really was enough to shatter an ordinary man.

As he stood looking out at the water, he disrobed, leaving his staff across his clothing. He had long ago been forced out of the Temple for his 'heresy,' and when he left that organization, he had left behind many of their rituals. One ritual he had maintained, however, was that of bathing daily. Stepping into the cold water, he shivered, then plunged in full-length. Rising from the water, he brushed his close-cropped hair back from his forehead, then went about the business of cleaning himself. He only wished his soul could be cleaned as easily.

He breathed a prayer to his primary deity as he stepped from the water. Having dried himself with a length of cloth he had brought for that purpose, he wrapped the cloth about himself and set about washing his robe. Some nearby stones were the perfect weight and shape for scrubbing his robe, and after working a particularly difficult stain out of the hem, he laid the robe out on a nearby stone to dry, then followed suit, luxuriating in the warmth of the sun.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"We're getting close," Weston said, nodding toward the road ahead. "I remember those hills. In fact..." He peered into the distance, nodding to himself. "In fact, I believe that's smoke from a campfire I see up ahead. He quickened his pace a degree, and Mory hastened to keep up with him.

As they neared a point where the path branched, Weston instead went straight on, hiking up a hill situated between the two branches of the path, following a trail apparently visible to him and him alone. Moryera pushed the branches out of her way, trying desperately not to lose sight of the warrior. Just when she thought she had lost him, she burst into a clearing.

Weston was a few paces ahead, moving toward a campfire. An auburn-haired woman dressed in dark grey sat on a nearby stump, while a man in armor lounged next to the fire. The woman raised her hand in greeting, but her focus was on Mory.

"Is that her?" the woman asked. Weston nodded, grinning. The woman grumbled and pulled out a small coin purse. Tossing two gold coins to Weston, she shook her head. "I should have learned a long time ago not to bet against you," she said ruefully.

"Were you followed?" the armored man asked. Weston glanced back toward Mory, then shook his head.

"No. We had some trouble at the inn where I found her, but nothing since."

"What kind of trouble?" the other man asked, sitting up.

"I'm not sure. Something tore up the people at the inn. Something... bad."

"How bad are we talking?" the woman interjected.

Weston paused before continuing. "Bad. Like, Shadow-walker bad." As he spoke, Mory saw the woman's eyes widen slightly before returning to their normal half-lidded state.

"If it is, we'll deal with it when the time comes," was all the woman said. She turned to Moryera. "So you're the runaway princess, eh?" She looked Mory up and down, taking in everything she saw with a critical eye. "Your mother is paying a pretty penny to have you back."

"Moryera, this is Ruevian," Weston said, gesturing toward then woman. Turning to the man in armor, he said, "And this is Arcadian." The dark-haired man nodded, his blue eyes holding hers for a moment longer than necessary. Weston looked about the camp. "Where's Ananel?"

"The lake," Ruevian said, gesturing absently behind her. She poured herself another cup of the foul-smelling coffee that had been warming next to the fire and settled back onto the stump. Mory found herself feeling profoundly uncomfortable in the woman's presence.

"I need a bath myself," Weston said. He opened his pack and drew out a change of clothes, shaking them out. Ruevian winced, then coughed.

"Gods, Weston. When was the last time you washed those?" she asked, waving her hand in front of her face.

"Sometime before the last time I wore them," Weston said, his tone matter-of-fact. Ruevian rolled her eyes and shook her head, draining her tin cup of the last drops of coffee.

"There had better be a bean-seller in the next town," she grumbled. "We're almost out of coffee."

"I'll just be happy if there's a smithy," Arcadian said. "My sword got dinged when we were in Stonecrest, and I haven't been able to sand it out on my own." He leaned back on his elbows, appearing absurdly comfortable in chain armor that looked to be about as pleasant to wear as, well, a shirt made of metal.

"We'll probably stay overnight in town," Weston said. "No sense in camping out when we have a guest."

Just then, a robed man appeared from down the hill, coming up behind Ruevian.

"West!" the man called out, "You're back!"

"Ananel!" Weston responded, raising his hand in greeting. He gestured toward Mory, smiling broadly, "Look what I found!"


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A short distance away, a lone figure watched the group, silently taking in every word and gesture. After a short time, the figure nocked an arrow to her bowstring and drew it back. Aiming carefully at her target, she smiled before loosing the arrow. The satisfying thud barely reached her ears as she watched her target slump to the ground, the arrow buried in its throat. It twitched a few times, then lay still. Everything around it was silent, as if in shock at the enormity of the crime.

Slipping forward, she knelt next to her prey and removed the arrow. Shaking the blood from the tip, she wiped it off and returned it to the quiver strapped to her back. Silently, she slit the deer's throat, then moved away from it. The others would come soon, and they would skin and prepare the deer. It was not her task. Such things were work for men. She was a woman, a hunter, and the best of her tribe. And as much pleasure as she took in the kill, she knew in her heart she was destined for better things.

Watching the group at the campfire for a short time more, she came to a decision. She would follow them. Whether to attack them or join them, she had not yet decided. But one way or another, these mercenaries would lead Kyraa to adventure. And when they did, she would be ready for it.

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CHAPTER FOUR
01 July 2005

Ananel smiled kindly at Moryera, nodding his greeting. "How do you do, your highness?"

"I'm well," Mory said softly. "And you don't need to refer to me that way. I'm just Moryera."

"Mory it is," Ananel said, shortening her name as was his wont. He began gathering up his gear, then turned to Ruevian. "We leave?"

"When Weston gets back," Ruevian said. She appeared annoyed by the lack of coffee in her cup, and knelt by the fire to pour herself another serving.

Weston headed down the hill toward the lake, while Arcadian rose to his feet and began helping Ananel pack the gear in for their trip. Per Legion policy, no horses or other beasts of burden were used - all travel was done by foot for maximum flexibility. Therefore, all members carried only what they needed and no more. Once on the road, the priest's prayers would help keep fatigue at a minimum.

"Sit down, princess," Ruevian said, gesturing toward the fire, her tone casual but commanding. Mory moved to comply, unwilling to disobey the strange woman's order. As she sat, the woman took a sip of her coffee. "So, what happened in the inn?" she asked.

"I don't know," Mory replied honestly. "One minute I was serving drinks, the next..." She extended her hands in a helpless gesture.

"Was it terrible?" Ruevian asked, her eyes searching Mory's face for something.

"There was blood..." Mory began.

"...everywhere," Ruevian finished quietly. "I'm sorry."

"Do you know who did it?" Mory asked, trying to ignore the butterflies in her stomach.

"I might," Ruevian said. "I hope I don't." Leaning back, she gazed off into the distance, her amber eyes glistening. Mory sensed that the conversation was over and turned away, leaving the other woman to her thoughts.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Why do I have to dress like this?" Alliance demanded, staring down at the dress.

"Because I don't look like a woman," Blue said around a mouthful of hairpins, carefully arranging his partner's hair, then pinning it in place.

"And I do?" Alliance snapped. Blue remained tactfully silent. Alliance sighed and settled back, allowing the other man to finish his ministrations. Looking into the mirror, he had to admit that his softer features lent themselves to a feminine cast more so than did Blue's chiseled ones.

"Do you want to put on the lipstick, or shall I?" Blue asked, critically examining Alliance's face.

"I'll do it," Alliance said, taking the cosmetic from his friend. "You'd just end up smearing it."

"Two years of art classes, and you'd think I'd get more respect for my skills," Blue said.

"I'm not an oil painting," Alliance said, smacking his lips to smooth the lipstick.

"No, you're more of a pastel," Blue said, ducking the blow Alliance aimed at his head.

"Let's just get this over with," Alliance said. "Ruevian and the others will be back with the princess soon, and we need to have this taken care of before they arrive."

"As you wish," Blue said, straightening his tie. Looking in the mirror, he had to admit that he and Alliance made a striking couple. Good enough to pass muster at the Mayor's party tonight. Good enough by far.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Weston brushed back his still-wet hair and picked up his pack, nodding to Ananel as he did so. "We're off, then?"

"So it would seem," the priest responded. Turning to the small group, he extended his hand, murmuring a quiet prayer of protection and guidance. As he began walking down the hill, he tapped his staff on the ground rhythmically, setting the pace for their hike.

"Did you send the message to the others?" Ruevian asked Arcadian. The paladin responded by patting his pack. The enchanted scrolls inside allowed them to communicate instantly with the other members of the Gray Legion, regardless of how far-scattered they were.

"They should meet us in Highguard, just ask you asked."

"Excellent," Ruevian said, nodding her satisfaction.

They continued walking in silence.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Just out of sight, in the woods running parallel to the road, Kyraa stalked along, her feet falling silently amongst the leaves on the ground. She had no real idea of where she was going - she had grown up in the valley and had lived there her entire life. But these strangers were leaving, and that meant that Kyraa was leaving with them. She was tired of hunting deer and ducks. Even men could catch them. She wanted to hunt something more interesting. More dangerous.

She wondered what that prey would be, and whether it would hunt her in the end.

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CHAPTER FIVE
02 July 2005

Blue sipped his drink, surreptitiously scanning the room for their target. The sheriff of Galeward was well-known for having an eye for the ladies - particularly redheads. Even now, Alliance was working his charms on the sheriff, keeping him distracted while Blue kept an eye out for the man they were there to protect. Of course, they were also there to rob him - hence the need to distract the sheriff. He sensed a presence at his elbow, and turned to find Mayor Tuckman's wife smiling up at him.

"Mister Blue! We're so pleased you and Miss Jayer could make it." The small woman clapped her hands gleefully, as if his very presence delighted her utterly. He couldn't help but smile at that - her enthusiasm was infectious.

"We're honored you asked us," Blue said, bowing slightly. Mrs. Tuckman waved her hand dismissively.

"Oh, tosh." Turning to face the crowd, she gestured into the mingling crowd. "Have you met the other guests?"

"I can't say that I have," Blue admitted.

"Well," she said, gesturing toward a bald, heavyset man in a blue robe, "That's Father Gant of the Temple, of course. And over there," her fingers flicked toward a beautiful woman with short, light-brown hair, "is Ms. Eath. And they," her fingers moved again toward a tall blonde man and his equally tall and blonde female companion, "are Mr. Tanner and Ms. Ragnell." She smiled cheerily. "I'm sure you'll all get along famously!" And then she was off to greet another guest.

"I'm sure we will," Blue muttered, nursing his drink. His eyes tracked across the crowd again, glad at least that she had put a name to some of the many faces in the room. As his gaze passed over the brunette, she caught his eye. As she started across the room toward him, he noticed that her eyes were scarlet, matching the large ruby pendant she wore about her neck.

"I see Mrs. Tuckman was showing you about," she said as she neared him.

"She's a nice lady," Blue said, uneasy with the woman's interest and the distraction it was proving to be. He still hadn't seen his target yet.

"Yes, she is," the woman said, nodding. "I'm Grayed," she said, extending one gloved hand, palm down. Blue took it carefully and gave it a quick, polite squeeze.

"I'm Blue," he said, unwilling to share more.

Regardless, Grayed seemed satisfied, and glanced to where Alliance was hanging on the sheriff's arm, laughing at one of the man's interminable jokes.

"Your friend seems to be having a good time," she said, smiling.

"Yes," Blue said, no longer listening to the woman. He had found his mark: Harin Renz, a businessman from Highguard. His tall, lanky form was draped in an ill-fitting but expensive suit, and he nervously fingered the latch on the satchel he was clutching close to his chest. Exactly as Ruevian had said he would be.

"Perhaps we should dance," Grayed said, taking hold of his arm.

"I'm sorry, I need to go," Blue said, cutting her short. Disengaging himself from Grayed, he began moving toward Harin, making sure he caught Alliance's eye as he did so.

"No, I'm sorry," Grayed said from behind him. He felt her hand on the back of his neck, and then the room swam. An instant later, he heard a scream and watched as Harin fell to the floor, clutching at a dagger that suddenly protruded from his throat. The satchel was nowhere to be seen, and the crowd was panicking, everyone heading for the doors at once.

Alliance was at his side in an instant. "What the hell happened?" he hissed.

"I don't know," Blue snapped. The two of them were making their way toward the door. "One minute she's talking to me, the next minute..." He paused, unsure of what exactly had happened.

"Who?"

"Ms. Eath. Grayed." Blue said, a sudden chill coming over him. "Grayed Eath. Graye Death."

Alliance's eyes went wide. "Graye Death was here?" he whispered. They were out in the street now, headed back to their hotel.

"Yeah, and she has the satchel." Blue was shocked he hadn't seen it coming.

"Ruevian is not going to be happy."

"Ruevian is never happy where Graye Death is concerned," Blue said. He nodded to the doorman as they passed inside, already formulating a backup plan. Best to leave tonight and try to meet Ruevian and the others on the road before they could reach town. If Graye gave the documents in the satchel to the Mayor, none of them would be welcome in Galeward ever again.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Still tracking the small party ahead of her, Kyraa stopped short, sensing that she was not alone in the woods.

"Time to come home, Kyraa," a voice whispered from the brush.

"No," Kyraa hissed, eyes straining to make out her stalker. She wondered briefly at the irony, but brushed aside the thought. The shamans taught that nature was a circle, and the hunter would always be hunted. There was no real surprise here.

"It's time," the voice said.

"I refuse," Kyraa said, drawing her blade to emphasize her words. The small knife was carved from a single piece of dragonbone, cut from a drake one of her ancestors had killed. Some said the ancestor had been a man, but Kyraa didn't believe it for a second. Dragons were difficult prey for women. A man couldn't hope to defeat one, unless the dragon was foolish enough to stand still and allow the man to beat it to death with a stick. And dragons were anything but foolish.

"Please," Danti said, stepping out of the shadows. Kyraa regarded her friend silently, then turned her back.

"You've come all this way for nothing. Go home now," Kyraa said.

"Not until you come with me," Danti said. Kyraa remained stubbornly silent. Danti waited a few moments, then sighed sadly. "Fine, then I must come with you." She dragged a traveling pack from out of the brush where she had been hiding. Kyraa blinked in surprise, then smiled.

"You never planned for me to return with you at all," she said. Danti just smiled back, then gestured toward the horizon, where the group they had been following was just moving out of sight.

"We had better hurry if we're going to catch them."

=========================================

CHAPTER SIX
06 July 2005

Blue and Alliance had only been on the road for about an hour when they ran into Ruevian and the others. Explanations were brief, and the next hour was spent trying to find a decent camp site now that they couldn't go into town. Now settled about the fire, they continued their discussion.

"It couldn't be helped," Alliance finally said, shaking his head. He had shed his makeup and dress at the hotel and was now dressed in his usual tunic and vest.

"I still don't understand how she knew what was in the satchel," Ruevian said, shaking her head angrily. She knew the pair had done their best, but she was still frustrated with the situation.

"She couldn't have gotten the information just anywhere," Arcadian said, popping a bit of jerked meat in his mouth. "She has a source. Possibly even an informant."

"Inside the Legion?" Weston asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No," Arcadian responded, "I don't think so." He laid back and watched the sky for a minute. "If they were inside the Legion, she would have struck sooner," he said finally. "I think her informant is in town... one of the Mayor's staff, most likely."

"It makes sense," Blue agreed, nodding.

"So what do we do now?" Ruevian asked, looking across the fire at the others.

"I say we go around. It's not like we need to go through the town," Alliance offered.

"We get the papers back. One way or the other," Blue growled. He hated being humiliated, particularly in front of Ruevian.

"I say we talk about it in the morning," Weston yawned, crawling toward his bed-roll. Ananel nodded his assent and moved toward his own bed. Ruevian shrugged and got up, taking a cup of coffee with her toward her tent where Moryera was already sleeping.

Alliance and Blue exchanged looks before unpacking their own rolls and settling in for the night. For his part, Arcadian just laid back, the ground providing enough comfort for him, even in his armor. While the others slept, he kept watch. There would be enough time in the morning to sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Just outside the clearing where the Legion was camping, two pairs of eyes watched the sleeping group, unaware of a third pair of eyes watching them from the shadows.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As the morning sun rose above the treetops and began filling the clearing with light, a soft rustling sound brought Arcadian to his feet. Sword out, he turned to face the threat now presenting itself from behind a nearby tree. Dazzled by the new sunlight, it took him a minute to realize that the form was a teenaged girl. She had long red hair and was dressed from head to foot in leathers. Unsure of her intent, he kept his blade focused on her.

Which is probably why the other girl was able to get behind him and put a blade to his throat.

"Don't move," she whispered, "or I'll bleed you out." Arcadian froze, unsure of whether it was worth his life to shout a warning to the others.

"Seaphis, grant me power!" came a voice, loud as thunder. There was a burst of light and smoke, and then Ananel was in the center of the clearing, his staff held high over his head. Lightning arced down from the clear blue sky and infused his body with a white-blue glow. "Calumne, smite her!" the priest cried, extending his hand toward the red-head. The girl was flung backwards as if swatted by a giant fist.

"Kyraa!" the girl holding Arcadian released him and tried to cross the clearing to reach her friend. She wouldn't make it.

Ananel's voice roared once more: "Bundis, hold her!" The trees seemed to bow slightly, then reached out their branches, catching the dark-haired girl and holding her captive. The priest turned toward Arcadian. "Are you alright?" he asked quickly. By this time, the others were waking up, rubbing their eyes and trying to make out what was going on.

"I'm fine," Arcadian replied, unable to believe his eyes. He had known the priest was powerful, but the casual use of his power just now had shaken Arcadian. As a Paladin, he had limited access to certain Priestly abilities - but no matter how long he studied, he would never be able to channel the level of raw power the priest could.

"Good," Ananel said. "I was coming back from the lake, whe-" He spun and caught the arrow in one still-glowing hand, igniting the wooden shaft and reducing it to ashes. The red-head dropped her bow and drew a knife, charging toward the priest with a wild scream.

"You will release Danti!" she shrieked.

"Marnop, take her!" Ananel hissed. The girl's eyes rolled back in her head and she collapsed on the run, tumbling to a stop a few feet from Ananel. The priest was breathing heavily now, and a thin sheen of sweat covered his brow.

"What did you..." Arcadian asked, staring at the crumpled form.

"She's asleep, nothing more. So I suggest you tie her up..." His smile took on a hard edge. "At least, while you still can."

Ruevian had joined the two men and was prodding the red-head's still form with her toe. "I don't think she's waking up for a while," she finally said, chuckling ruefully. Yes, that's a pun.

"Better safe than sorry," Blue said, handing Arcadian some rope. The two of them began to tie up the girl, then moved to free her friend and likewise bind her.

"Do you think Graye sent them?" Alliance asked, glaring at the brunette as Blue tied her hands behind her back.

"I doubt it," Ruevian said. "They're tribals. I don't see her working with them. At least not well."

"Well, someone wants us out of the picture," Alliance said slowly. "The question, of course, is... who?"

=========================================

CHAPTER SEVEN
08 July 2005

The pounding in her head was the first sign that something was wrong. The second was the fact that her hands and feet were bound tightly. The third was the man glaring down at her.

"Release me," Kyraa demanded, trying to keep her voice steady.

"I hardly think you're in a position to be making demands," the man said. He brushed his dark hair back from his forehead, revealing dark blue eyes, hard and cold. She had seen him before, of course, while following the group - but never this close.

"I am a warrior of the Kamrin tribe! Release me!"

"No," the man snapped. He shook his head and paced away from her, his chain armor glinting in the sunlight. It was mid-morning, telling Kyraa that she had only been out for a few hours - or more than a day.

"You will regret this," a voice said from behind the man. Kyraa was relieved to see Danti, though her friend was similarly bound and helpless.

"Somehow, I doubt that," the man sneered. He shook his head, as if in amazement. "What the hell were you two doing, attacking us like that?"

"You wouldn't understand," Danti snapped.

"But I might." The voice was low, almost sinister. And decidedly feminine. Kyraa turned her head to see the newcomer. She was the one Kyraa had pegged as the leader of the small group. Pushing back her hood, the woman stared down at Kyraa, her copper eyes narrowed. Kyraa glared back silently, determined not to let her eyes waver for a moment.

"I won't tell you a thing," she hissed.

"You don't have to," the woman said, smiling. "I already know everything."

"What?" Kyraa felt a chill run down her spine. The woman kept smiling as she turned and walked away without another word.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Stubborn little thing," Ruevian muttered to Weston as the two of them watched Arcadian continue his interrogation.

"What did you find out?" Weston inquired gently.

"Not a damned thing," Ruevian sighed. "They didn't decide to do this on their own, though."

"Blue still thinks Graye Death is a valid suspect."

"He may be right, and at this point it's the only real theory we have."

"I'll have Arcadian continue that line of questioning," Weston said.

"No, wait," Ruevian stopped him. "I'll go. They'll respond better to a female anyway."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The woman had come back, the same mysterious smile on her lips as when she had left. She spoke quietly to the man who had been guarding them. He nodded and walked away, leaving her alone with Kyraa and Danti.

"You are making a grave mistake," Kyraa warned, knowing that her protestations were futile, but needing to make the attempt anyway.

"No, little one," the woman said, her smile growing predatory, "it is you who have made a grave mistake." Kyraa felt the chill return and fought to keep from shivering. The woman in red had been right - this one was truly evil. It was no wonder she would seek to destroy Kyraa's village.

"My people will fight you," she gasped out.

"Your people are not here," the woman responded.

They will be, though, Kyraa thought. And when you attack them, they will be ready for you. She would not allow the future the woman in red had predicted come to pass. The copper-eyed woman would not stand, laughing, in the embers of Kyraa's home. It would not happen. It could not happen.

"You're alone here," the woman went on. "You and your friend. And now," she bent down to look Kyraa in the eye. "And now, you will tell me exactly why you have attacked us." Kyraa glared back defiantly, then spat at the woman.

"I will tell you nothing!" she whispered.

The woman reached up, slowly, and wiped her face, her expression not changing one whit. "Oh, my dear," she said softly, a sad smile forming on her lips, "oh, you will talk. Of that you can be assured."

=========================================

CHAPTER EIGHT
10 July 2005

"The damage shouldn't be permanent," Ruevian said, wiping the blood from her hands. Ananel shook his head angrily and pushed past her, moving to work his healing prayers on the injured girl. Weston watched the priest work for a moment, his face clouded. Finally, he turned to his partner.

"What did you find out?" he asked.

"It seems someone has been filling her head with lies," Ruevian murmured. She sat down next to the fire and poured herself a cup of coffee. She looked exhausted. "Something about me burning down the girl's village or something. Like I would do something like that."

"No, you'd just torture her with a knife for three hours," Arcadian said, glaring across the fire at Ruevian.

"There's no profit in burning villages, Arc." Ruevian smiled as she spoke, sipping calmly from her mug. Arcadian snorted angrily and got up, his back stiff as he walked over to help Ananel. Ruevian watched him go, then turned back to Weston. "She's been in contact with a woman. A woman with red eyes."

"Graye," Weston said, burying his face in his hands. This was the last thing they needed to deal with.

"So it seems." Ruevian continued to sip her coffee, watching the priest and the paladin co-operate to heal their bleeding patient. Silence reigned for a few moments. Then Weston spoke.

"Why did you do that?"

"Do what?" Ruevian's attention was still on the priest.

"You didn't have to go that far." He purposely avoided stating the obvious.

"I did what needed to be done," she stated, her tone flat.

"So did he."

Ruevian's head snapped around, her amber eyes flaming. "Don't. You. Dare."

"Doing 'what needed to be done' is what got him where he is, Rue." Weston hoped his friend would hear what he was saying.

"He was sick, Weston. He... he enjoyed it."

"And you don't?"

"No! Of course not!"

"And you won't?"

"No! I... He..." She broke off, looking helpless and confused for a moment.

"He was a good man, Ruevian. But he was misguided. And this is the way he started down that path - by doing 'what needed to be done.'" His voice was gentle, but his tone brooked no disagreement.

"I know. I just..." She looked across at the girl, just now sitting up. "What if she had killed Arcadian? Or Ananel? And what if there were more of them? We needed to know!" Her voice had taken on a slightly desperate tone.

"The cost was too high," Weston sighed.

"Maybe. But now we know." She looked to the woods. "Now we can prepare."


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Graye watched the group with lessened interest. The torture had been a surprise - she honestly didn't think Ruevian had it in her to deal with a captive that way. But she had followed through, and now they knew of her involvement - though certainly not to what degree. She crouched lower in the branches, letting the tree hide her completely. Lifting her brooch to her lips, she kissed it. It flashed briefly, then faded to a dull, unearthly glow.

"What have you found?" The voice echoed inside her mind, the brooch pulsating with the cultured, sepulcher intonations.

"Very little," Graye confessed. She hated having to make such admissions, but lying was not an option with this employer.

"Very well." The voice seemed unconcerned, though there was an undercurrent of threat in the statement.

"I'll have more information soon," Graye said hurriedly.

"I'm sure you will," the voice said flatly. There was a pause, and then the glow within the brooch died down. Graye waited, watching it, unable to shake the feeling that she was being watched back.

"I have to get out of here," she whispered to herself. "I'm going crazy."

"Then you'd best drop those knives." She jumped, startled. "For your own safety, of course." A new voice, behind her. She whirled, her throwing daggers already out. A man stood in the branch of a nearby tree, his long red hair pulled back in a neat pony-tail. In his hand was a light crossbow, the bolt centered neatly on her heart. At this range, he could hardly miss.

"It seems you've caught me," Graye said softly, letting her daggers fall from her hand and tumble to the ground.

"Fair and square," the man said. He seemed bizarrely familiar to her. She waited for him to continue, but he didn't say anything. He just put his fingers to his lips and whistled. Hard. "My friends will be here a minute."

"Mine will be here before that," she said, lying through her teeth.

"I very much doubt that, Graye," the man said.

"You have me at a disadvantage," Graye protested. "You know my name, but I don't know yours."

"That's not the only disadvantage I have you at," the man laughed, nodding toward his crossbow.

There was a crashing in the underbrush, and then two men appeared. One was dressed in a dark-blue tunic and carried a thin blade. The other was wearing a dark brown robe with the hood up. The man in blue looked up at her, gesturing with his sword for her to jump down. The man in the robe pushed back his hood and glared up at her disapprovingly, his own sword at his fingertips.

"Hello, Graye," Weston growled.

"Hello lover," Graye said, laughing as she leapt down towards him.

=========================================

CHAPTER NINE
14 July 2005

Weston stepped aside, allowing Graye to land nimbly beside him. She winked at him, then turned to Blue. "Sorry about the party last night."

"Sure," Blue muttered. Alliance dropped down behind him, crossbow still trained on Graye.

"You know, I have the greatest respect for the Gray Legion," Graye said, her tone level and serious. Blue stared at her, shaking his head in disbelief.

"You're not going to fool us again," he said, wondering how much of his own statement was bluff. Graye blinked at him, then shrugged and sighed.

"Well, you can't blame a girl for trying."

"Actually, I can," Weston snapped. He nodded toward the path he and Blue had just come down. "Now move."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Danti watched with concern as her friend slept. The torture had been horrible. She didn't know how Kyraa had managed to last as long as she had. Nor, in all honesty, did she know why her friend had held out as long as she had. The torture could have ended far earlier has she just told the evil woman what she wanted to know.

"Are you alright?" a gentle voice inquired. Danti turned to see the priest, his red hair hanging over his sad eyes.

"I'm fine. How is she?" Danti drew in a shuddering sigh and stroked Kyraa's forehead. It was a mercy that the priest had freed her hands enough to allow her to tend to Kyraa. Being bound and gagged while her friend was tortured had been the worst experience of her young life.

"She'll live. The damage isn't permanent, though I doubt she'll be using her right hand for much for the next few weeks. I've splinted the broken fingers, but the wrist needs time to heal as well."

"When can we leave?" Danti asked. The priest blinked at her in surprise.

"Leave?"

"We've told you what we know. When can we go?"

"I'm sorry. I don't think you're going to be going free any time soon," the priest said, the sadness in his eyes deepening.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Graye," Ruevian said, her tone cold.

"Ruevian," Graye returned, her own tone equally cold.

Moryera looked from one to the other, then to the angry faces of Weston, Alliance and Blue. She wondered briefly if she would be awakened by the screams of Graye the next morning. Somehow she doubted that anyone here would stop Ruevian from torturing the woman.

"Hello Graye."

Mory watched as Graye's eyes widened. Turning, she stared at the newcomer.

"Arcadian?" Her voice had become very quiet.

"Hello, little sister."

"What are you doing here?"

"Working." He nodded toward Ruevian. "For the good guys."

"Why?" Mory heard the catch in Graye's breath as she spoke, looking from her brother to her rival and back again.

"Because I've hurt enough people in this life. Because I need to know that what I'm doing matters - and not just to you." His tone was cold, but there was no anger in it. Graye's eyes took on a look of complete and utter defeat. Something inside of her had broken just then.

"I see." Her voice was soft, and the cocky edge it had held earlier was gone.

"No, somehow, I doubt you do." Arcadian shook his head sadly and turned away from his sister, walking over to join Ananel's watch over the two tribal prisoners. Graye watched him go, her scarlet eyes welling with tears. She looked like she was about to say something, but stopped. Turning to Ruevian, she smiled sadly.

"Even him?" The question was a gentle inquiry.

"I didn't hire him to hurt you, Graye," Ruevian said. "I hired him because he's one of the best."

"Yes, I suppose he is," Graye said, biting her lip and nodding. She walked over and sat down next to the fire without saying another word.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"They don't look related," Alliance said, watching Graye walk away.

"They're step-siblings," Blue responded. Alliance nodded his understanding.

"And Weston?"

"Has a history with her. I don't know the specifics, though. Ananel might."

"I wonder," Alliance mused, "if this is what they mean when they say that adventuring is just a big family."

"Somehow I doubt it," Blue muttered. He clapped his partner on the shoulder. "Come on, let's go hunt up something for dinner."

Slowly, the two of them headed for the woods.

=========================================

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
27 July 2005


"Are we ready?" Calmer asked, looking over at the blademaster. Deep nodded, his eyes hidden behind the folds of his scarlet blindfold. The two kitsune were still collecting gear for the trip, and would join them at the gate.

Stepping out of the practice field, the knight reflected on the pass he had come to. He certainly hadn''t come to Highguard with the expectation of helping a living blademaster hunt down a missing princess. But when the queen asked for his assistance, he could hardly refuse.

He glanced at the other man as they walked. The blademaster appeared to be ignoring him, but appearances were often deceiving. He had no doubt that the man was completely aware of everything that went on around him, regardless of the fact that he was blindfolded.

Blademasters were an exceptionally rare breed, even here on the coast. They originated in a land across the sea, and it was rare for them to share their teachings with outsiders. Clearly this tall, fair man had impressed someone. Of course, there were rumors - dark rumors of inhuman abilities and forbidden magic. But they were just rumors, and the knight had no reason to heed them.

They had almost reached the castle gate when a voice called out to them. Turning, Calmer saw a tall, willowy woman with short blonde hair coming toward them, waving. When they stopped, she ran up to them, ignoring Calmer''s confusion and the blademaster''s scowl.

"I''m so glad we caught up with you," she bubbled, smiling brightly.

"We?" Calmer asked. Deep''s scowl grew deeper.

"Pink and I, of course." She giggled, and gestured to a completely empty space beside her. "We''re coming with you," she continued.

"The hell you are," the blademaster growled, speaking for the first time. "This isn''t a picnic."

"Last time I checked, I outranked you, Deep-san," the woman said, using the foreign title as glibly as if she''d been born to it. Calmer found himself fascinated by her, in spite of himself.

"The queen-" Deep began.

"-already wrote to you," the woman said, handing the blademaster a scroll. Glancing over, Calmer noticed the queen''s signet impression in the wax seal. Deep broke the seal with a crack, then began reading. His face clouded over, and for a moment Calmer was afraid the man would attack the woman. But the blademaster only handed the scroll back to her.

"Fine," was all he said. He turned on his heel and stalked away, his loose red robe billowing after him. Calmer blinked at the woman, who appeared completely unphased by the man''s anger.

"I don''t believe we''ve been introduced," the knight said.

"I''m Amy," the woman responded, extending her hand. Calmer caught his breath.

"Lady Amy?" he asked.

"Yes," she nodded, smiling. Turning to the empty place beside her, she gestured. "This is Pink, my companion."

Calmer was nothing if not diplomatic - he hadn''t been raised in the Rosemont household for nothing. "How do you do?" he asked, bowing to the empty space. Amy just put her hand to her mouth and tittered quietly. Calmer flushed, wondering if the joke was on him.

"You''re such a gentleman," Amy said, taking his arm as they walked. Calmer remained quiet, musing on rumors he had heard of madness in the Zendrake family. Clearly at least some of those rumors must be true.

They approached the gate, Amy chattering on about nothing and Calmer listening politely. Deep and the two kitsune waited for them on the other side, along with a small cart loaded with supplies. The kitsune both smiled brightly at the sight of Amy, and William waved to her. Deep''s brow remained furrowed, but he said nothing more.

And then, at a gesture from Deep, William scrambled into the seat above the cart. He clicked his tongue, flicking the reins against the flanks of the single horse. The horse immediately moved forward, pulling the cart behind it. The pace was sedate, and the three long-legged humans easily kept up. Las jogged along beside, her short legs moving twice as far to cover the same distance. All the same, she showed no inclination to ride in the cart with her cousin.

Amy continued to talk to Calmer while largely ignoring Deep, which seemed to suit the blademaster just fine. Calmer wondered what it was about the woman that seemed to put the normally taciturn swordsman on edge. Turning and looking back at the receding gates of the city, he suddenly realized that this was going to be a very long trip.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


"Is she going to be okay?" Arcadian whispered to Ananel. They had been on the road for almost two hours now, the two tribals leading the way.

The priest glanced back at where Ruevian sat in the cart beside Weston. The news that Gendou had likely been behind the attack two nights ago had shaken her, and she had withdrawn from everyone except Weston, who sat quietly next to her. "She may be, given time," he finally replied.

"This is a remarkably bad time for her to get like this," Blue muttered, careful not to be overheard by Ruevian. Ananel shot Blue a warning glance. The swordsman hadn''t been a member of the Legion three years ago. He hadn''t known Gendou as a close friend, nor had he been present at Layham.

"We need her," Alliance agreed. "Badly."

"We have her," Ananel said. "Let her be for the time being." Alliance and Blue exchanged glances, then fell back in their walk. Now alone with Ananel, Arcadian sighed worriedly.

"Is she really going to be okay?" he asked. The priest said nothing, staring straight ahead as they walked. Graye joined them a moment later, hurrying to catch up.

"What''s going on?" she inquired.

"Nothing," Arcadian replied, still somewhat irritated with Ananel''s lack of response.

"Doesn''t look like nothing," Graye said, walking backwards and facing her brother. It had always annoyed him that she could do that without tripping.

"It''s nothing," he insisted. Graye watched his eyes for a moment, as if trying to read his thoughts. Finally, she shrugged.

"Whatever," she said. Turning back to face forward, she skipped ahead to where the tribals were. Arcadian watched with amusement as she tried to talk to them. They seemed remarkably uninterested in whatever it was she was trying to talk to them about. Graye continued to try to talk to them, determined to break them out their shells.

Smiling sadly to himself, Arcadian kept trudging along.


=========================================


CHAPTER NINETEEN
28 July 2005


As she warmed herself by the fire, Mory glanced over her shoulder to where the dark man stood. He kept well away from the fireplace, instead sitting in a shadowy corner of the room. She sighed, then turned back to the fireplace. She had a small pot of stew going, using some supplies she had found in the cabin. She wondered who had lived here, and if they were coming back.

"Do you have what you need?"

Mory jumped as the man spoke, then turned to look at him. As dark as it was in the corner, he was apparently reading a scroll.

"I think so, thank you," Mory said. The man nodded once, but didn''t look up. Mory waited a moment, then spoke again, "How long will we be here?"

"A while. We''ll probably need to get supplies at some point."

"Why are we here?" Her voice sounded loud to her ears. The man slowly rolled up the scroll and returned it to his leather satchel. Brushing the dust from the scroll off his knees, he looked up at her, his right eye glowing red. The left eye was hidden behind a fall of hair that obscured half of his face.

"We''re hiding," he said. He watched her, almost expectantly, and Mory looked away, blushing under the intense scrutiny.

"Are we hiding from Ruevian?" she asked, still looking at the floor. The man chuckled darkly.

"No." He seemed amused by the suggestion, but Moryera was surprised.

"Really? Who then?" she asked, her curiosity overcoming her fear.

"My patron," the man said, a smile creasing the scarf over his mouth.

"But why kidnap me?"

"You''re bait," the man said.

"For Ruevian?" She felt sick at the thought of putting Weston in harm''s way.

"No. Though I expect your friends will be here shortly." The man nodded as he spoke, and Mory''s heart leapt at his words. She calmed herself as he went on, "Yes, they should be here in any minute now."

"What will you do when they arrive?" she asked, almost afraid of the answer.

The man leaned back, blanketing himself even more in the shadows. Even so, his one good eye gleamed redly with an inner light that was more than a mere reflection of the fire.

"That, my dear, remains to be seen."


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I see it," Arcadian said, peering through the woods toward the small cabin. It was early afternoon, and the light filtering through the trees revealed smoke rising from the cabin''s chimney. He nodded to Danti, who sprinted through the woods, weaving her way towards the cabin.

This was the third place at which they had stopped. So far, the most exciting thing they had found was a male Orc dressed in women''s clothing. Though perhaps exciting was a poor choice of words. Shaking his head to clear the mental images, Arcadian watched Danti approach the cabin. She paused, then slipped up to one of the windows, peeking inside.

And then she was running back toward them, eyes wide. Arcadian started forward, but was stopped by a hand on his arm. He turned to see Weston, who was staring intently at the cabin. The paladin turned back just in time to see the door of the cabin open. A tall, dark figure stepped out and watched Danti run towards them.

"Is that..?" Arcadian breathed softly.

"Yes," Weston replied, eyes narrowing. The hand that still gripped Arcadian''s upper arm trembled slightly before letting go. "We should get the others."

Danti joined them a moment later, somewhat out of breath. "He''s-" she began.

"We saw," Weston noted, nodding toward the cabin. Danti turned and blinked at the man, who just watched them silently, the breeze blowing through his long, dark hair.

"Oh," she said. Kyraa came down from the road above the cabin, a questioning look on her face. At Danti''s nod, she turned and ran back up towards where the cart was hidden beside the road.

A sudden hiss caught Arcadian''s attention. He turned just in time to be bowled over by something very fast and very dark. He threw his hands up to protect his face, and felt something slice through the backs of his hands. Grunting in pain, the paladin rolled to the side and went for his sword. The thing rolled with him, then leaped away.

Arcadian staggered to his feet. From the sounds of shouting, he guessed that whatever it was wasn''t alone. He had his sword out now, and was watching the woods warily. Another hiss, and it was coming at him. This time, he was ready. A slice, a hot spray of blood, a howl of pain, and the thing rocketed away.

"You okay?" Weston was beside him, nursing a nasty laceration on his upper arm. Arcadian nodded, wincing as the air passed over the deep cuts on the backs of his hands.

"What are they?" he asked as he wrapped a strip of cloth around the wounds on his sword hand. Healing prayers would have to wait.

"Weres," Weston replied, watching the woods warily as they headed towards the sound of fighting up at the road. Arcadian gasped.

Were-creatures, or weres, were a fairly rare sight this far east. Unlike the kind-hearted kitsune, weres were not a naturally occurring phenomenon. Instead, they were the result of humans and animals breeding while under demonic possession. They were fast, vicious and strong. In the west, some warlords had tried to bring various were-tribes under their command. Few had lived to tell the tale, and fewer still had come anywhere close to succeeding. There were always the rumors, however...

They arrived at the road to find the cart overturned. Alliance was using it as cover, firing bolts at any weres who ventured too close, while Blue covered his back. Ruevian was at the edge of the road, locked in combat with a huge, brutish-looking were-boar, while Graye had just finished slicing the throat of a lithe were-cat.

"Took you long enough," she said, and then was back in the fray. Danti and Kyraa joined Alliance behind the wagon, providing cover fire as Weston and Arcadian charged the oncoming hordes.


=========================================


CHAPTER TWENTY
29 July 2005

"This is your doing?" Ananel asked, his staff held parallel to his body in a defensive posture.

"The weres? They''re hardly my style," Gendou replied. He was standing just outside the small cabin, arms crossed casually across his chest.

"Even you cannot raise an army where there are no dead," Ananel smirked.

"True," the necromancer responded.

"Where is the girl?"

"Safe."

"Even so," Ananel said, his tone serious, "we''ve come for her."

"Then take her," Gendou said. "If you can."

Ananel''s response was to raise his right hand, his staff still clutched in his left. "Senbrea, strike him!" A lance of light exploded from the priest''s hand-

-and shattered impotently against a wall of bones that had risen to protect Gendou. The necromancer smiled behind his scarf as Ananel drew back in surprise.

"How?" the priest hissed.

"Why do you think I chose a cabin built on the site of an ancient battlefield?" Gendou replied calmly. He gestured, and several skeletons clawed their way out of the earth.

Ananel stepped forward, his staff glowing white as he struck at them again and again. Skeleton after skeleton fell, but there seemed to be no end to the numbers rising from the ground. Shaking his head in disgust, the priest fell back toward the road to regroup with his allies.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


"I think those are the leaders," Alliance said, gesturing with his crossbow. The two weres he indicated were wearing armor, unlike most of the others, and had a look of intelligence about them that the others lacked. One was a tall, wiry female were-cat, while the other was a massive, hulking male were-wolf.

The wolf sniffed the air and howled. In response, another wave of weres rose from the woods and streamed towards the weary Legion. The cart had been battered into little more than kindling, the archers were low on ammunition, and everyone was suffering the effects of fatigue and blood-loss.

"We can''t take another run like the last one," Blue said, glancing from right to left. No obvious escape routes made themselves known.

"We have to," Graye said. "I refuse to die here."

"No one is dying," Weston snapped, watching the approaching force through narrowed eyes.

"We''ve got-" Ananel came out of the woods behind them at a run, then stopped dead at the sight of the oncoming mass of fur, teeth and claws. "-trouble," he finished lamely.

"No kidding," muttered Arcadian.

"No, I mean trouble," Ananel insisted, gesturing behind him. A small army of skeletons was marching relentlessly through the woods toward the Legion.

"Weres on one side, undead on the other?" Alliance moaned.

"We could run," Danti suggested.

"We''d never outrun the weres," Arcadian countered.

"Then all we can do is fight," Kyraa said, a gleam in her eye.

"Well, yes, those appear to be the options," Ananel replied. He seemed remarkably calm for someone facing inevitable death. He raised his hand and turned to face the most immediate threat: the weres.

Because the weres were already upon them. Alliance fired bolt after bolt, each striking home with deadly precision. As one were fell, it was trampled by the feet of the one behind it. The beast-men were packed so tightly more than one corpse was held upright by the press of his fellow weres.

Ananel''s prayers were horribly effective against the creatures, throwing them back ten at a time, but he was rapidly reaching the extent of his stamina in channeling the raw power of his deities. He shook his head to clear it, then pressed onward, roaring his prayers and directing the wrath of the gods down on his enemies.

Defending the priest and archers, Blue and Weston stood at opposite ends of the crushed wagon, striking as many of the monsters as they could. Though they were both swordsmen, their methods were as different as their weapons.

Blue, with his light rapier, was stitching the weres with the point of his blade, striking multiple points before moving on to the next target.

Weston, on the other hand, was swinging his massive broadsword from side-to-side, cleaving two or three weres asunder with each blow.

Arcadian stood next to Ananel, limiting his attacks to those directly threatening the priest so that he could also maintain a constant prayer fortifying the barricade. It was a difficult balance to maintain, but the paladin handled it well.

In and among the weres, Ruevian and Graye moved, killing where they went. Their objective was simple - reach the two leaders and eliminate them. At the very least it might prevent them from summoning still more reinforcements.

Graye dodged a heavy-handed blow from a were-bear, then spilled the monster''s intestines onto the hard-packed earth with a back-handed slice from one of her knives. Leaping backwards, she landed behind a were-wolf and slit its throat with one hand while simultaneously driving her other blade into the temple of a were-boar that had appeared next to her. Having dropped two more, she fell back into the fray, slicing at any vulnerable spot that presented itself to her.

Ruevian, however, wasn''t letting herself be distracted. Instead drove forward towards the armored were-cat. Breaking free of the roiling mass of weres, she flew toward the sleek black beast-woman. The creature hissed and dodged to one side, clawing at Ruevian''s lightly-armored side. The assassin rolled to the right and brought her blade up into the creature''s armored knee. The blade didn''t penetrate, but it must have stung because the were-cat moved away from her.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kia was confused. The assassin woman was attacking her personally, as if she would actually stoop to fight such worthless prey. Shaking her silky black head, she batted at the assassin as one might a mouse, knocking it backwards. And still it came. Kia was beginning to wonder if she might need to bloody her claws on this one.

"Enough," Natas growled. He backhanded the assassin with one huge armored fist, knocking her to the ground. She didn''t move after that - dead or unconscious, Kia neither knew nor cared. Her attention was focused solely on the white priest ahead. Once his threat was eliminated, the others would fall.

Then her eyes caught something coming up behind the defenders - a flash of white, a glint of metal. And then a line of skeletons, armed and armored in rusted metal and tattered cloth, broke the tree line and approached the mercenaries from the rear. Kia allowed herself a smile. Perhaps the necromancer was of some use after all.

A few of the mercenaries turned to engage the new threat, but the battle was all but over now. The skeletons over-ran the defenders position, moving to meet the were-creature forces in the middle of the road.

A shriek from a were-cat was the first sign that something was wrong. And then the weres were falling back toward Kia and Natas, being driven by the sheer weight of the skeleton army. Blades rising and falling like automatons, the undead warriors made short work of the advance lines of weres. Blood sprayed through the air as the skeletons slew the were forces.

"No!" Kia howled, charging forward. Natas was right behind her, but she knew - they both knew - the battle was already lost. How had this happened? What would the empress say? Kia didn''t know what she was going to do - only that she had to redeem her honor. And right now, that meant killing the mercenaries. All of the mercenaries.

=========================================



CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
30 July 2005

"I don''t know how long I can keep this up," Ananel said. He was holding his staff out from his chest, the glow radiating from it holding back the skeletons that swarmed on both sides of the huddled group.

"As soon as you stop, they''ll tear us apart," Blue replied.

"I know that," Ananel whispered. The light flickered for a moment before steadying. Arcadian continued to mutter prayers under his breath, trying to replenish Ananel''s rapidly decreasing stamina.

Suddenly, the light went out as Ananel was knocked off his feet by a snarling black streak. The armored female were-cat was on top of the priest, hissing her rage as she tore into him with her claws.

"NO!" Arcadian howled, leaping toward the beast. He sliced at her with his blade, but she ducked under it, bringing her leg up into the paladin''s chest. Arcadian fell back as Weston and Blue tried to keep the skeletons off the others. Fortunately, most of the undead seemed more interested in the weres than in the humans.

Ananel struggled against the were-cat, but she was too strong. "DIE!" she hissed, raising her claw above the priest''s throat. Suddenly, she shrieked with pain and leapt off of him, a dagger jutting from her shoulder. Ananel looked to his left to see Ruevian, panting, her fingers clutching empty air from where she had just thrown her blade.

Arcadian knelt by the priest and began working on his wounds. The worst were on his chest, where the muscle had been torn away, revealing bone beneath. The paladin winced in sympathy as he began mending the deep lacerations with his prayers. Kyraa and Danti stood by, their bows at the ready. The were-cat would bristle like a porcupine before she reached the priest again.

"Are you okay?" Weston asked Ruevian, coming to her side. The skeletons were down the road now, chasing the weres back into the forest on the other side. The two were-creature leaders were nowhere to be seen.

"Winded," she said, rubbing the back of her head where the were-wolf had smacked her. She winced as her fingers touched a lump. "Sore."

Weston nodded sympathetically, but his eyes were still checking the area for threats. It was only a matter of time before they were attacked again.

"Do you think they''re done yet?" Gendou asked, stepping out of the woods. His eyes were on the skeletons as they slaughtered the few remaining weres. Weston''s head whipped around, his sword already out.

"You!" he snarled. He lunged forward, his sword aimed at the necromancer''s black heart. Gendou side-stepped the blow and caught the blade in his left hand. There was a squealing sound of metal against metal, and then he snapped the blade off. Tossing the broken piece away, the dark man glared at his former friend.

"Do you think we can discuss matters like civilized people?" he asked, his tone disapproving.

"Where is Moryera?" Weston growled.

"Safe," Gendou said. "Really, do you people think of nothing else?" A bolt slammed into his upper arm, spinning him partway ''round. A heavy click sounded, and Alliance stepped forward, his light crossbow leveled at Gendou.

"I think you''d better take us to her," he said, eyes narrowed.

Gendou glared at the ranger as he pried the bolt from his left arm and dropped it on the ground. "I would suggest being a bit more respectful," he said, not quite angrily.

Alliance cocked the crossbow and raised it to his shoulder. "Now."

Gendou shook his head sadly. Alliance pulled the trigger. The bolt was an inch from the necromancer''s face when he snatched it from the air. He tossed it aside, his face clouding over.

"I''ve given you every opportunity to discuss matters politely," he growled. "Now we can do this the easy way-" He paused, eyes narrowed. "Or we can do this the hard way." An unnatural breeze stirred his long hair as he spoke, revealing the pale dead eye under his bangs.

"You absolute b*****d," Ruevian snarled. Gendou raised an eyebrow as his former love approached. She stalked up to him, face twisted with anger. "You utter, contemptible, absolute b*****d."

"Yes?" Gendou blinked once in false confusion.

"Give her to us. Now." Her voice didn''t waver in the slightest.

"I think not," Gendou replied lightly.

"Then we''ll kill you and take her back," Ruevian said.

"You can try." Gendou looked down at her, his face expressionless now. "And you will fail."

Arcadian was helping Ananel to his feet, while Blue stood behind Alliance. Kyraa and Danti stepped up beside Weston, while Graye slipped in behind Ruevian. The group, so disconnected only a few hours ago, had come together against a common foe.

Ruevian stepped back, drawing her knives. Graye followed suit, and soon Gendou was faced with a multitude of weaponry aimed at his chest. He smirked.

"It seems you have a death-wish," he chuckled darkly. "Far be it from me to deny an-" He suddenly choked on the words, his eyes going wide. He coughed, gagged, then spat up a gout of black blood. Eyes still wide, he collapsed onto his face. Standing behind him, Moryera dropped the long, sharp kitchen knife onto his back, then ran to Weston.

As the warrior enfolded her in his arms, she asked through her tears, "Can we go home now?"

=========================================

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
03 Aug 2005


"Wait," William said, holding up one hand. The kitsune''s eyes narrowed as he sniffed the air. "Something is... wrong." He scrunched up his face in confusion and turned to Las with a questioning look. She nodded, and the two scampered ahead. Calmer, Deep and Amy waited while the two scouted up the road and disappeared around the bend.

"Hey!" Las suddenly shouted. Calmer and Deep both had their hands on the hilts of their swords in an instant. Then the two kitsune reappeared - with Alliance in tow.

"Alliance?" Deep said, a rare smile appearing.

"Deep-sensei," Alliance grinned. "You have no idea how glad I am to see you."

"Is Blue with you?"

"And Ananel, Arcadian, Weston and Ruevian."

Deep''s expression became serious. "And the princess?"

"Safe as well," Alliance said. Just then, the rest of the group came around the bend. Some were sporting fresh wounds and others appeared completely worn out. But they were all alive.

"Praise be," muttered Calmer. "We can go back to Highguard now."


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Sniffing the air, Kia pawed the dirt roughly. She had been tracking her prey for almost two miles now. Natas was just behind her, but she had the lead. Sprinting through the brush, she broke from the tree-line with a howl of rage.

One of the humans turned toward her, surprised, but she dropped him with a swipe of her paw, sending him tumbling. Natas emerged just behind her and immediately tore into another nearby human. The assassin who had surprised her earlier was moving in her direction. Pity. She''d hoped it would run.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Ruevian watched the were-cat knock Blue to the ground, and immediately she began to head for the creature. She wasn''t precisely sure what she would do when she got to it, but she was damned if she''d let it make easy meat of her people.

"Good kitty," she muttered at the hissing, spitting thing. The were-cat rose to its full height, taller than a grown man. "Good kitty," she repeated. "Kitty wanna play?"

She had her daggers out now, and now found herself knocking away the quick jabs the cat-thing was aiming at her. She dodged backwards, bringing her knives up in a rapid strike. The cat batted them away, then clawed at Ruevian''s face.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Kia was frustrated. The assassin was neither avoiding her blows altogether nor focusing on offense altogether. It was, instead, trying to maintain a balance. Unfortunately for Kia, the strategy was proving effective. She licked her bloodied paw before trying for the humans''s face again.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Natas, on the other hand, was having a somewhat more difficult time. Though he had managed to surprise the male with the silver armor, it apparently enraged the red-eyed female. She was trying to cut him with her knives, with no apparent care for her own safety. Which might have worked in his favor, were it not for the red-garbed man with the thin sword. He had stepped in, and though his blows were aimed to wound rather than kill, they were striking rather closer to home than Natas was comfortable with.

Shaking his shaggy head in frustration, Natas leapt over the pair and landed on the other side of the cart, where two kitsune stood trying to protect a pair of human females. The lavender-haired human glared angrily at him, while the fair-haired one babbled at him in something he assumed was rapidly-spoken Standard. Her speech was far too fast for him to follow. Still, she appeared to be... shooing him away?

Growling, he raised his claw to strike the insolent human. But his paw was clamped tightly. Looking up in confusion, he found it gripped in something fuzzy and pink. Looking further up, he found himself gazing into the eyes of a very tall and very angry pink rabbit. At least it looked like a rabbit, until it smiled, revealing two rows of exceptionally sharp teeth.

Natas suddenly wished he had stayed on the other side of the cart.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Kia heard the pained howls of her partner, but couldn''t break away from her dagger-wielding opponent. The fight was dragging out longer than she would have liked, and she wasn''t gaining any ground. Hissing in disgust, she leapt backwards into the woods. Giving the assassin one last glare, she disappeared into the woods as quickly as she could.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Calmer watched the massively muscled pink rabbit tear into the were-wolf with a speed that would have made a crossbow bolt envious. The were-wolf managed to tear itself away and limp into the woods, but not before losing a good deal of fur, skin and blood to the elongated claws on the rabbit''s paws.

"So, uh... that''s Pink?" he asked, leaning over to William.

The kitsune blinked in confusion. "Yeah. I thought you two had been introduced."

"We were," the knight said, watching the pink rabbit wipe his blood-stained paws on the grass. "He was just... harder to see."

The kitsune shrugged. "He looks like he always does to me."


=========================================






CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
04 August 2005

"I''m going to be so glad to get back to the city," Weston said, running his hands through his hair. "I can finally sleep in a real bed again."

"And eat proper food," Alliance agreed.

"And find a real blacksmith," Arcadian added.

"And get a hot bath," Ananel sighed.

"And find another contract," Ruevian said.

"And get some clean clothes," Graye laughed.

"And honey!" Blue and Mory said together. Everyone stared at them for a moment. "What?" Blue asked defensively, "I like honey."


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Danti looked at the silver kitsune with a surprised expression on her face. "Kitsune desu?" she asked, feeling as though her mastery of the Eastern tongue was somewhat less than adequate.

"Hai," William replied, equally surprised to find someone who spoke his language. It was one of the things that caused him to spend so much time with the Blademaster, though most of their conversations were in Standard.

"I''ve never met one of your kind before," she continued, switching to Standard, where she felt more at home.

"We don''t venture out of the port cities much anymore," William said.

"So why are you here?"

"Duty," William replied, nodding toward the Blademaster. Turning to the tribal, he looked her up and down. "We don''t see many Kamrin out this way," he noted.

"We''re... questing?" Danti said, trying to avoid the kitsune''s curious gaze.

"Hunt quest? Field quest?" He raised an eyebrow. "Spirit quest?"

"No!" Danti gasped, shocked not only that the kitsune would think such a thing, but that he knew enough of Kamrin practices to understand the significance.

"Okay." William turned back to the road, whistling as he walked. Danti fell back to where Kyraa was walking, feeling ill at ease after her conversation.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


The pain was fading now. The loss of blood was sending him into shock, which was a bad sign in and of itself. Except that he couldn''t move his arms and legs. Oh, he''d tried. But his body insisted on remaining face-down in the road. Still, he could hear. And the approaching footsteps didn''t sound human.

And then he was on his back, staring up at the dimming sky. He couldn''t see who had turned him over, but he could hear them talking, low and quiet. A sudden, horrific pain flared in his throat before everything faded mercifully to black.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Natas glared at Kia as she innocently licked her claws clean before sheathing them. "The empress will be displeased that you''ve killed her pet necromancer," he growled. Kia looked down and nudged Gendou''s rapidly cooling body with one foot. The wound in his back may or may not have proven fatal, but the removal of his larynx along with most of the rest of his throat certainly had. Humans were a remarkably fragile species when it came right down to it.

"I doubt very much that she''ll care about that, considering he betrayed us," she purred. The taste of the necromancer''s blood was still fresh on her tongue, and it settled her nerves like no drug ever could.

Natas remained unconvinced, his yellow wolf''s eyes watching her silently. "You take too many liberties, cat," he finally grunted. Kia just smiled at the were-wolf, then sprang forward as she began the long race home. Natas watched her for a moment, then leapt after her, determined not to let her beat him by too great a distance.

=========================================






CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
05 August 2005


"So what are we going to do with her?" Weston asked quietly, nodding toward Graye. Ruevian glared at the other woman''s back, but said nothing. Weston waited a few moments, then spoke again: "We can''t just ignore the situation."

"I would leave her in a shallow grave if it were up to me," Ruevian muttered.

"That''s not an option," Weston hissed.

"It should be," she responded. They walked in silence for a bit, both watching Graye''s animated conversation with her brother a few meters ahead.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


"What do you think they''ve decided?" Graye asked, trying to keep a smile on her face.

"Does it matter?" Arcadian retorted. His expression was flat and unreadable. Graye sighed.

"It does. I don''t want to leave just yet."

"That may be the best option for everyone, whether you want to or not." He turned back to the road, not meeting her gaze.

"Look, I was wrong, okay? About the Legion, I mean."

"I''m not sure what you''ve done can be forgiven so readily," Arcadian sighed.

"What did I do?" she moaned, her tone pleading. "I mean, we''ve clashed in the past, but it was all business!"

"Everything else aside, those papers you stole in Galeward-"

"What about them?" Graye interrupted.

"Did you read them?"

"Yes," she began.

"Then you know why Ruevian wanted them so badly."

"No, I don''t! What does she want with land titles?"

"Land titles?" Now Arcadian looked confused.

"Yes! The satchel was full of them. But they were administrative copies, so they aren''t worth anything. A real disappointment, let me tell you." Graye''s confusion bled through her quip.

"We were informed that they were legal documents relating to an incident regarding the Legion and the mayor a few years back." Arcadian''s eyes narrowed as he assimilated this new piece of information.

"No, nothing like that," Graye blinked at her brother.

"I see. I''ll be back," he said quickly. Turning, he headed back up the trail to where Ananel was walking.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


"We should have checked him. We should have made sure," Blue growled.

"There wasn''t time," Alliance replied. "The skeletons could have come back, or another group of weres. We wouldn''t have survived another hit."

"Mark my words, Alliance," Blue said, his voice tight. "We are going to regret not making sure Gendou was dead."

"Maybe so," Alliance sighed, watching Arcadian hurry from the front of the procession to where Ananel was walking. "But right now, I think we have bigger things to worry about."

Blue followed his partner''s gaze to where the priest and the paladin conversed in hushed tones. "You may be right at that," he muttered.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Calmer couldn''t help but notice the fact that everyone was studiously ignoring the presence of the seven foot tall pink rabbit that hovered behind the Princess and her cousin, Amy. Once over their initial surprise, everyone had apparently decided that discretion was the better part of valor, because no one was saying anything about it. Calmer couldn''t help himself, though.

"What do you make of the rabbit?" he whispered to Deep. The Blademaster flushed almost as red as his loose-fitting clothing.

"I believe I owe Lady Amy an apology," he replied. "I assumed, incorrectly, that this ''Pink'' was a ploy of some kind." He glanced over at the rabbit. "Clearly I was mistaken."

"Clearly," Calmer replied calmly.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


"So they''re on their way here now?" Usagi asked.

"Yes. They should be here in a day. Maybe less." Romuel''s eyes narrowed as she gazed into the crystal ball.

"I''m glad they''re safe," the queen sighed.

"Safe?" Romuel asked, raising an eyebrow without looking up from her gazing. "Who said they were safe?"

"Why?" Usagi asked, sitting up straighter. "What do you see?"

"I see someone they should have made sure was dead when they left him," the seer replied flatly.


=========================================


CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
07 August 2005


"I told you she wouldn''t be happy," Natas muttered. Kia licked the wound on her side and glared at Defenestrated in mute reproach as the dark empress coiled her whip and replaced it on the back of her throne. Defenestrated regarded the pair with disapproval in her eyes.

"The only reason you still live is his betrayal," she finally said. Kia mewed piteously, but said nothing. The empress continued: "But you took measures I did not authorize, and that is why you were punished." Her voice was cold, but controlled.

"But he betrayed you!" Kia whined.

"And his punishment would have been severe - but it was mine to give, not yours." She glared at the were-cat. "You have no idea what you''ve done, do you?" Sighing, she sat back in her throne and stared at the blank stone wall. Waiting for a few moments until they were sure she had nothing more to say, Kia and Natas slowly crept from the room.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


The pain had vanished, leaving in its wake a complete absence of pain that was almost breathtaking. Indeed, he felt stronger and more complete than he ever had before. Still, it would be at least another night before he regained his strength. Until then, he was vulnerable. He tried to clear his throat, but then remembered he no longer had one. Sighing breathlessly, he wrapped his scarf around the tattered remains of his neck and began trudging back toward the cabin where he had kept the princess.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


"I don''t see why we didn''t keep walking," Blue said, gesturing to the towers of Highguard castle in the distance. "Another two hours - four at the most - and we''d be there."

"I''m tired. I''m hungry. I want to rest." Alliance said, rolling over on his side, facing away from his partner. "Besides," he went on, "Ananel needs to rest more. He may heal faster than the rest of us, but that were-cat did a number on him."

"Yeah," Blue agreed grudgingly. "I suppose you''re right."

"Of course I am," Alliance yawned.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Slipping through the night, the two figures moved stealthily towards the encampment where the lucre-warriors were resting soundly. The single lookout appeared to be napping, so infiltrating the camp was simple.

Splitting up, the taller figure moved toward the tents, while the shorter one drew its blade and approached the lookout. Poised above the man, the figure froze as a thin blade slid against its neck.

"I would be very careful about my next move, were I you," Deep said with a growl.


=========================================

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
10 August 2005


The second figure was moving toward Deep now, so the blademaster disengaged from the first and danced back, determined to meet the pair on more even terms. One of the dark figures spoke to the other in a low tone. The other nodded, then they both tossed something onto the ground. A choking cloud of smoke obscured them from view, and when it cleared, they were gone.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


"Well, clearly someone has sent shadow-walkers after us," Blue snapped. Deep's description of the two figures had left everyone unsettled as they discussed matters over the campfire.

"Shadow-walkers?" Las asked, leaning closer to Deep.

"Shinobi," the blademaster said, as if the word explained everything. The kitsune's eyes widened - apparently it did.

"Oh," she whispered, still wide-eyed.

"We can't let this slow us down," Weston was saying. "If we have shadow-walkers following us, we can't afford to spend even one more night away from the city."

"Being inside the city is hardly protection," Alliance countered.

"More so than being out here in the open," Ruevian said.

"We've faced assassins before," Ananel said.

"Not like these," Deep replied. Ananel shot his old friend a curious look.

"We really should have hired a mage back at the guild," Blue said.

"Don't kitsune know magic?" Arcadian asked.

William shook his head. "Most of our magic only works in our homeland," he said sadly. "Here, we're pretty much just short people with tails."

"So what are our assets?" Ruevian asked, looking around the group.

"A blademaster, two assassins, a paladin, a knight, a wounded priest, two warriors, two rangers, a kitsune scout and a couple of tribals." Blue ticked off the job descriptions one by one. "Oh, and the royals." Here he gestured at Mory and Amy with his thumb.

"What about the giant killer rabbit?" Weston asked.

"I don't think he gets involved unless Lady Amy does," Calmer said.

"What I wouldn't give for a holocaust cloak," Weston muttered.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


The were-wolf and were-cat heads lay side-by-side on the sheriff's desk. Only a trace amount of blood had gotten on his paperwork, but he still seemed disconcerted.

"So these are them that did it, eh?" he asked, gingerly pushing them aside to get to his papers.

Gendou said nothing.

"You ain't much for talking, are you?" the sheriff asked.

Gendou said nothing.

The sheriff cleared his throat uncomfortably and finished writing out the check. "Here you go now," he said, tearing it off and pushing it over toward the tall, darkly-clad man. "This should get you 5000 sovereigns at any city bank." When Gendou said nothing, the man went on, "We're good for it." He smiled in a way that was surely meant to be reassuring, but came across as more nervous than anything else.

Gendou silently picked up the check, folded it, and slipped it inside his robes. Wordlessly, he turned and left the sheriff's office without a backwards glance. His only regret was that the heads on the desk didn't belong to Kia and Natas. But there would be time enough for revenge in the days to come.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


"So we're going to break camp tonight?" Alliance asked.

"I don't think anyone is going to get any more sleep tonight," Weston said. Ruevian nodded her agreement. Everyone stood up and moved to gather their personal items. Most of the camp equipment was hefted into the cart Deep and Calmer had brought, and the rest was stowed in packs and carried by the able-bodied.

The final march had begun, and barring any unforeseen encounters, they would reach Highguard by mid-morning.


=========================================

Calmer rose from beside the fireplace and rubbed the back of his head. Sore. A concussion? He winced as his fingers found a tender knot. He rubbed it briefly, then decided that was not a wise course of action as waves of nausea washed over him. Definitely a concussion.

"They already left," a voice said. Turning, the knight noted the two shinobi, unmasked and tied back-to-back.

"Did they now," Calmer asked.

"They did." It was the taller, blue-haired one speaking. The smaller, blonde one just glared at him.

"And I have you to thank for this?" he asked, gesturing to his head.

"Thank?" the blue-haired man appeared confused. "Why would you thank me?"

"Figure of speech," Calmer muttered. He found his sword and belt next to the fire. Both of the shadow-walkers watched him silently as he fastened it to his waist. He started for the door.

"There are monsters outside," the tall one said.

"Monsters?"

"Abominations," the female said, speaking for the first time.

"What kind of abominations?" Calmer inquired, eyes narrowing.

"Half-man, half-beast... evil, twisted things."

"Weres," the knight breathed softly.

"Free us, and we will assist you," the blue-haired one said.

Calmer stared at the pair. "I think not," he finally growled. Stepping to the door, he opened it quickly and was gone, the door rattling in the frame as he slammed it shut behind him.





In the courtyard, Amy giggled as Pink tore through wave after wave of weres, leaving the tattered corpses piled high. Having a feral earth-spirit for a protector could be entertaining by times.





Crashing through the door, the were-boar ducked low and charged toward Weston. The prince didn''t flinch, but instead placed his sword between himself and the bellowing monster. The sudden impact drove him backwards several feet, but the howl of pain from the were told him that he had struck true. The beast sagged to the floor, dead, allowing Weston to tug his blade from the corpse and rejoin the fight.

Meghan''s flaming sword sliced hither and thither, severing limbs and cauterizing the stumps. Several smoldering corpses lay at her feet, and she was backing a small mob out the splintered remains of the door, lighting fur and slicing anything that came within range.

Behind the sword-wielding pair, Ruevian was unleashing handfuls of throwing knives, blinding several weres at a throw. The wounded beasts were rapidly picked off by her companions, so she was concentrating on damaging as many as she could without focusing on killing wounds. Because of this, she could cause much more harm than if she took the time to make sure every throw had a fatal result.





Tossing aside the unconscious form of the blademaster, Gendou sank through the floor. It wouldn''t be long now.







Calmer was in and among the hordes in the courtyard now, hacking and slashing with a fervor. He wasn''t alone either - the two kitsune were up on the wall behind him, keeping the sneaks off his back with their bows. The knight winced as a blow caught him unawares, tearing the flesh of his upper arm. Hissing in pain, he skewered the throat of his assailant before moving on.

Two were-wolves who thought the diminutive kitsune would make easy prey discovered the hard way that the smaller a kitsune is, the larger the weapon they are likely to be using. Las''s collapsible long bow was taller than her body, and the heavy crossbow Will used was capable of putting a bolt through three line-up targets without slowing down. Two more bodies joined the heap at the foot of the wall as the kitsune began searching for new victims.

For every three weres the knight put down, ten more sprang up in their place. It was a never-ending battle, and even his steadfast arm was growing weary. Cutting through the knot of beasts just ahead, Calmer could see more of the abominations pouring in through the castle gates.

"Where are you all coming from?" he muttered to himself.





"There''s too many of them," Meghan barked as they ran through the corridors toward the throne room. "We have to make sure the queen is safe."

"She has to be," Weston said. He was pulling Mory along, while Ruevian brought up the rear, making sure nothing came up on them from behind. Then they turned the corridor and stopped short. The doors to the throne room were shattered, splintered off their frames. Meghan took a gasping breath and rushed forward. She stopped short in the doorway, her hand on her mouth.

"Oh, no," breathed Mory, rushing to the general''s side. The inside of the room was sprayed with blood. Turning, she saw a pair of mangled bodies lying in the shadows behind a partition. "No!" she shrieked.

"What?" Usagi said, coming out from the balcony, eyes wide.

"Mother?" Mory whispered softly. Usagi nodded, and the princess rushed across the room to hug the queen. Meghan stepped into the room next, with Weston and Ruevian close behind.

"What the hell happened here?" Ruevian said, nudging one of the bodies with her toe. Seen up close, it was clear that whatever these had been, they weren''t human.

"Weaklings," a voice growled from the balcony. A moment later, a figure stepped out of the shadows and joined Usagi and Mory at the balcony door. Ruevian raised an eyebrow.

"And who in the hell are you supposed to be?" she asked.

The newcomer curled her lip in mocking sneer, one fang hanging over her lower lip. "I am not someone to be trifled with, child," she laughed.

Ruevian glanced at Meghan, who was staring at the unkempt figure with distaste. "So..."

"She''s Le Moru, Romuel''s familiar," Meghan said, not taking her eyes off of the feral thing before her.

"Don''t mention that name in front of me," Le Moru spat, her eyes blazing.

"Why? You don''t like the idea that you''re not the one in control?" Meghan asked, unsmiling.

"This is my body," the thing snapped. "Mine."

"I don''t think so," the general muttered. She raised her hand, an amulet clutched in one gloved fist.

"No!" Le Moru shrieked, and leapt toward Meghan.

Meghan just smiled, speaking a single word: "Dimitto!"

Le Moru curled into a ball, howling in rage and pain. Meghan stepped aside and allowed the agonized thing to fall to the ground where she had been standing. Le Moru writhed for a few moments, then stopped. Everyone stared at the pair, breathless, unsure of what had just happened.

And then Romuel got up and began dusting herself off. She smiled sweetly at Meghan. "Thank you, love," she said, giving the general a quick peck on the cheek.

"Any time," Meghan replied, blushing slightly. An uncomfortable silence hung over the group for a moment before Weston spoke up.

"So... what now?"

"Now," Meghan said, smiling grimly, "no more running. We take the fight to them."








Deep Vermillion lifted his head slowly and looked about. He was still in the entrance hall of the castle. He could hear fighting in the distance, but nothing that sounded nearby. Slowly, he pulled himself to his feet and examined his surroundings. His sword, battered and chipped, lay nearby. He retrieved it, then headed in the direction of the loudest fighting.





Standing astride the walls of the castle, Calmer stared in horror at the scene outside. As far as the eye could see, the city was now swarming with weres. The townspeople who had been caught outside were dead now, but the weres were largely ignoring the town itself in favor of attacking the castle.

"This isn't good," William said, watching the milling hordes outside the castle walls.

"State the obvious often, do you?" Calmer asked.

William glared at the knight, then said, "They didn't come by foot. Someone is teleporting them in from... elsewhere."

"Elsewhere?"

"One of the abyssal planes, most likely," Las interjected.

"That's... not good," Calmer whispered.

"No," William agreed. A wind from outside the town ruffled his hair, carrying with it the stench of death.





"We have to close off the gate," Ananel shouted above the roaring tempest of the planar portal that sat just outside the walls of the city. The leaves were nearly stripped from the bushes he and Arcadian were hiding in, so great was the force emanating from the ten-meter-high circular gateway.

"How?" the paladin shouted back.

"I don't know!" Ananel cried. The swirling black-and-purple energies belched out another handful of weres who immediately joined their brethren in their march up the hill toward the town and the castle.

"We could try a Cry to Coelethus," Arcadian suggested.

"Not enough outbound energy," Ananel said, eyes narrowed as he looked at the gate. "You might be onto something, though."

"What then?" Arcadian asked.

"I'm thinking of doing a Sacrament of Seaphis," Ananel responded softly. Arcadian's face drained of blood.

"You don't even know if that will work," the paladin hissed softly.

"It's the only way," the priest sighed.

"I won't let you do this," Arcadian snapped.

"And how, pray tell, do you propose to stop me?" Ananel's eyes flashed angrily as he spun on the younger man.

"Any way I can," the paladin replied, his hand straying to his sword.

"Marnop, take him," Ananel said resignedly. Arcadian's mouth dropped open just before his eyes rolled back in his head and he slumped forward. Ananel caught him and gently laid him down on the ground. "Sleep well, my friend," he whispered.

Standing up straight, he marched toward the roaring portal, the knowledge of what he had to do etched in deep lines on his face.





"This just gets better and better," Gendou murmured to himself, watching as the priest prepared himself and the ground in front of the portal for the ritual he was about to undergo. Shaking his head, the lich faded into the shadows, knowing that he had one more piece to nudge into place before everything came crashing down.






"Someone is attempting to disrupt the portal," Defenestrated growled. She turned to the mage holding the gateway open and snapped her fingers. The mage strained harder, sweat running down her forehead as she struggled to keep the passage from closing. Another group of weres leapt through, rippling the surface of the black-gate as they did so, and forcing the mage to adjust her mental hold slightly on the portal.

"I'm... doing my best..." she gasped, brushing a lock of sweaty hair from her eyes.

"Do better," the dark queen said. "This portal must remain open until they return with my prize."





The portal must be closed before more come through. This thought and this thought alone kept him standing.

The white-hot power surged through Ananel as he pushed against the abyssal gate. He was now channeling far more raw energy than any human should be able to withstand. Even now, he could feel himself beginning to succumb to the raging torrents passing through his body. With a shout, he called on one last burst from his gods.

The energy whipped out from his hands, visible as lightning arcing from one point to another, and just as blinding. The portal shrieked like a dying thing and collapsed with a thunderclap of displaced air.

When the dust cleared, the gate was gone. And so was the priest.





Defenestrated stared at the empty eye-sockets of what had been her finest gate-magus. The mage's eyes (and much of her brain) had been liquefied by the forced collapse of the portal. Sighing, the dark queen waved to one of her waiting minions, who scurried forward to remove the offending corpse.

"Now what?" she wondered aloud, pacing before her throne. She would have to count on Kia and Natas to complete their mission and bring the princess back to her the long way. It was riskier, yes, but far less risky than attempting to re-open the portal.

Sighing, she collapsed onto her throne and waited.





Sitting up, Deep Vermillion found himself still in the entrance hall where he had fought the Gendou-lich. He had been caught off-guard by his former ally's transformation, and it had cost him the fight.

Picking himself up off the floor, he carefully brushed himself off, then checked himself for wounds. The gouge in his leg had finally stopped bleeding, but it still hadn't healed completely. Something in the lich's sword had tainted the wound.

Angry with himself for being so incautious, Deep picked up his sword from the stone floor, then bent to recover his blindfold as well. Securing his sword at his side and the blindfold over his eyes, he turned and headed unerringly into the depths of the castle. Even if he couldn't find the lich, there were plenty of were-creatures to be dealt with.





"We must locate the princess," Kia hissed as she took to the air in a massive bound. She landed with her feet on the shoulders of one of the guards, her hands on his head. Her tail twitched as she snapped his neck with a jerk and let his body drop before leaping toward the next one.

"I know this," Natas growled at his partner. He caught the guard's sword in one massive, shaggy paw as he simultaneously tore out the hapless man's throat with the other.

"Then why do we delay here?" Kia snarled, turning on the werewolf.

"Because," Natas said, licking his paw and smiling down at the werecat, "It's fun."





"Aren't those the leaders?" Blue asked, crouched in the stairwell above the hallway where the guards had been slaughtered.

"They appear to be," Alliance replied, sighting his crossbow at the larger one.

"Can you take them from here?" Blue queried.

"Not with you talking," came the annoyed response. Blue was silent as his friend began to squeeze the trigger, firing the weapon.

The bolt struck home with a metallic thunk.

"What the...?" Blue wondered aloud as a dark figure destroyed the bolt it was clutching in a metal-clawed hand. It had caught the bolt in mid-air, before it could strike the large werewolf.

And now it stood, back to them, facing the pair of were-creatures.





"What are you doing here, traitor?" Kia asked, yellow eyes widening as she took in the sight.

"I am your undoing, beast," the figure responded, the voice inside her mind.

"DIE!" Natas roared, springing at the cloaked figure, claws outstretched.

"Too late," Gendou said, swatting the monster aside with the back of his armored left hand. Natas flew through the air and slammed against the far wall with far too much force than Gendou's gaunt form could possibly have generated naturally. Growling deep in his throat, the werewolf picked himself up and charged the necromancer again.

"You should have stayed dead," he howled.

"I did," Gendou replied calmly. He parried the werewolf's blows with his metal arm, then drove it forward and upwards, gripping Natas by the throat and lifting him bodily from the ground. The werewolf's feet scrabbled against the stone floor, trying desperately to gain a grip on the slick surface.

"Let him go!" Kia shrieked, leaping towards the robed figure. She was half-way to him when he tightened his grip around Natas' throat with a sickening crunch. The werewolf twitched twice more, then went slack. The werecat screamed her rage and pounced, but was knocked back my the necromancer's free hand. The metal hand tightened its grip about the dead werewolf's neck, grinding flesh and bone into a pulp. The body dropped to the floor with a thud.

Then, slowly, the necromancer turned his good eye towards the werecat. "No!" Kia cried, attempting to circle away from the undead mage.

"Kia, show a little spine here," Gendou said. His left hand came up, still gripping Natas' head in its metallic grasp, a short length of vertebrae dangling from the pulped neck. "Natas did." The laughter in his voice was horrifying.

Kia tried scream again, this time in horror at the atrocity done to her partner. It came out a choked yowl as she backed away from the lich. Gendou tossed way the werewolf's head and started toward the werecat. Her eyes narrowed, and she suddenly leapt to one side. Rebounding off the wall, she came at Gendou with her claws outstretched, determined to tear his face off, even if she died in the process.

One claw snagged a bit of flesh on his cheek, dragging a bloodless furrow through his dead white flesh as he sidestepped her and plunged the clawed metal hand through her back and out her chest. Between the cold fingers, her heart pumped twice, spraying still more blood onto the stones of the floor.

Slowly, the necromancer allowed her body to slide off the impaling arm and onto the floor. He dropped her heart onto her back, then turned to look up at Alliance and Blue where they crouched in the shadows of the stairwell. He granted them a mocking salute, then slowly faded out of existence.





"NO!" Defenestrated screamed as the death-throes of her most faithful and prized servants reverberated throughout her mind. She had known the necromancer would turn on her, but to have him interfere at this vital juncture was impudence beyond what she could tolerate. She would have to deal with him directly.

Rising from her throne, she turned to her majordomo. "Ready my mount," she hissed. "I ride for Highguard tonight."





Gendou winced as the psychic scream cut through his mind. He had expected her to be angry, but it was a fool who took angering Defenestrated lightly. Even so, he had done only what was necessary. Now the final piece was in play, and once she was in place, he could begin his true endgame.





"Did you see that?" Alliance asked softly. Blue simply nodded, staring wide-eyed at the shattered corpses in the hall below. "I thought..."

"Yeah," Blue said. Gendou's sudden appearance had been startling, as had his actions. "We need to tell the others about this. Now." Alliance said nothing as he rose to his feet, wincing as the blood flow returned to his legs.

"Where do you think they are?" he asked.

"Upstairs, I would guess," Blue replied. Together, they began to climb the stairs toward the upper floors of the castle.





"Is anyone else concerned that we're winning while vastly outnumbered?" Weston asked as his blade decapitated a pair of wereboars.

"The thought had crossed my mind," Meghan acknowledged. She danced through the enemy masses, igniting three and four at a time with her flaming blade.

"Don't question our good fortune," Graye snapped, plunging her daggers into several of the creatures in rapid succession.

"Something isn't right about this," Ruevian said, ignoring Graye.

"They're mirrors," Romuel said. She, Moryera and the Queen were huddled behind the defenders as they took on what seemed like every were in the world.

"Mirrors?" Weston asked.

"Clones. Duplicates. Mirrors." Romuel's tone was that of concern. "It would take a very powerful dark magic to produce this many duplicates."

"Gendou?" Weston queried, cutting a werecat in half with his sword.

"We'd be fighting skeletons, not weres," Ruevian said.

"This isn't the work of a necromancer," the seer said softly. "It's something more. Something deeper, older and far more powerful."





With a final flap of its mighty wings, the blue-scaled dragon landed atop the castle spire. It threw back its head and roared deafeningly. Astride the massive creature's back sat Defenestrated. She stepped nimbly down the beast's wing and alighted on the castle wall.

"Now, where is the necromancer?" she murmured.








Calmer stared at the woman, his eyes widening as she stalked down the wall to where he and the kitsune stood. "Excuse me," he began. The woman simply looked past him, as if he wasn't there. "Excuse me!" he said again, more loudly. The woman continued to approach, her expression one of haughty determination. Calmer shook his head and drew his blade. "Halt!" he shouted. He heard the click of William's crossbow being cocked behind him.

Stepping up to him, the woman gripped his sword in one hand and wrenched it, bending the blade back on itself. Her other hand caught the knight about the throat and lifted him off his feet. "Where is the necromancer?" she hissed.

Calmer struggled to breathe while trying to recall what he knew about a necromancer. There had been a necromancer the others had encountered, but that one had been struck down by the princess. "D..dead," he finally choked out.

"Of course he's dead," the woman in black snapped. "That's the entire problem!" Shaking her head in disgust, she tossed Calmer to the side, off the castle wall. He fell thirty feet before he hit something, crashed through a cart and landed inside. He tried to rise, but his left leg was twisted at an awkward angle, clearly broken just below the knee. Laying back, he fought to ignore the throbbing pain in his leg while he tried to figure out what to do next.





Up on the wall, Defenestrated swept past the kitsune, ignoring the little vermin as less than useless. "Queen takes knight," she muttered to herself, not concerned with whether the man had survived his fall from the battlements or not. She needed to find Gendou, deal with him, then take the princess.

Rising slowly into the air, she floated across the courtyard to the castle, eventually alighting on a third-story balcony. She sincerely hoped the search wouldn't take too long. She had better ways to spend her evenings than searching for wayward servants and carrying out duties she had long since assigned to others.





"Is that the last of them?" Weston panted, staring at the heap of bodies in the doorway.

"I can't believe it. They just kept coming." Meghan was struggling to catch her breath as well. "Why were they so weak, though?"

"I told you," Romuel said, rising from where she had been sitting with Usagi and Moryera. "They were duplicates. Even the most powerful magic can only create a clone that is half-strength, and with these numbers, I would be surprised if they were even a quarter as strong as the originals."

"Quantity over quality," Ruevian muttered. Romuel nodded grimly.

"So what now?" Graye asked softly.

"We should check the rest of the castle, see if there are any more in hiding," Weston replied.

"I must stay with the queen," Meghan said.

"Perfect," Weston nodded in agreement. "Ruevian, Graye and I will check out the rest of the castle in the meantime."

"Be careful," Moryera said, standing up. Weston embraced her, then kissed her forehead.

"I'll be back before you know it," he said, winking. Mory smiled shyly at her prince as he pushed past the pile of corpses to leave the room.

"This is going to be a hell of a cleanup job," Meghan muttered after the mercenaries had left. She nudged a severed arm with the toe of her boot.

"Maybe," Romuel said with a knowing smile.





"Okay, this is weird," Blue muttered.

"What?" Alliance asked, looking around.

"Where are all the weres?" Blue asked.

"Were are all the wheres?" Alliance replied, grinning wickedly.

"Shut up," Blue snapped. "Look around. This place is empty. We were being swarmed less than an hour ago."

"True," Alliance noted seriously, his eyes still scanning the hallways as they walked.

"Something weird is going on," Blue said.

"Magic, probably," Alliance mused.

"Probably," Blue agreed. "Probably, but whose?"

"Ours, I hope," Alliance said.

"We don't have magic," Blue responded, staring at his partner. "At least not much."

"I meant... our side. The good guys. The not-the-weres."

"Ah."

"Yeah."

The two continued to walk the empty corridors, each hoping to find some trace of friend or foe, and finding nothing.





Turning the corner, Deep Vermillion found himself staring at a strange sight. A pale woman, dressed all in black, moving down the hallway as if she owned it. This in and of itself might not have been so strange, except for the fact that she seemed to be floating rather than walking.

"You there!" the blademaster shouted, hoping to get her attention. He succeeded.

The woman paused, then turned, an exasperated expression on her delicate features. "Yes?" she asked. She wasn't coming closer. Something about her was off, however, and Deep Vermillion was instantly on his guard.

"What are you doing within the castle?" His hand floated over the hilt of his sword, ready to draw on a moment's notice.

"Searching for something that belongs to me," she responded, eyes narrowing.

"Nothing here is yours," Deep said. "Be gone."

The woman smiled coldly and began to move towards the blademaster, sliding eerily and noiselessly over the stone floor. "I am seeking my necromancer, and you shall not stop me."

"Gendou?" Deep asked, feeling as if he had suddenly stepped off the bottom rung of a ladder, only to find nothing supporting his weight.

"You know him?" she asked, raising one eyebrow. "Excellent. Take me to him."

"If he is your man, then you know where he is." The blademaster wondered if he could get his sword out fast enough.

"He is hiding from me," the woman said, stopping a few meters from Deep. She looked him up and down, a slight smiling playing across her lips as she focused on his wounded leg. "You have been marked by him, I see."

Deep growled, drawing his sword. The woman didn't seem surprised, but simply stood there, waiting. With a shout, the blademaster kicked off on his good foot and charged the waiting witch.







Defenestrated was taken aback by the man's sudden strike. She blinked as he flew toward her, his sword weaving in what was clearly meant to be a confusing and random pattern. She made no attempt to dodge or defend herself, but let him strike her. The blade sliced toward her throat, struck her... and rebounded violently, nearly jarring the blade from the red-clothed man's hands.

"Are you quite finished yet?" she asked, not bothering to hide the boredom and scorn she felt. The man said nothing, but reached up and removed his blindfold, revealing closed eyes. Defenestrated stared at him, wondering what he meant to do next. Slowly, the man loosened his belt with one hand, allowing his loose gi top to fall open, revealing his bare chest.

Then he opened his eyes, purple fire blazing out of the sockets. On his bare skin, a series of runes formed, burning with an inner glow just under the surface. The dark queen ran her eyes over them, taking in their patterns, contexts and meanings. And she smiled.

"Oh," she breathed. "This should be fun."





Blue turned the corner and stopped dead. Just ahead, he saw Deep-sensei removing his blindfold. The pale, creepy woman before him just watched. A blaze of light seemed to envelop Deep, and the woman smiled and said something. Then they were in motion, each one moving faster than Blue's eyes could follow. He felt Alliance at his elbow, but he couldn't tear his eyes away from the sight before him.

"What the..." Alliance broke off and stared in silence at the glowing dance. Blazing fire traced trails through the air as Deep Vermillion moved around the woman, his sword all but invisible except for the soft gleam of metal when it struck home.

Suddenly, the woman cried out in pain.





Defenestrated couldn't believe it; the b*****d had drawn blood. She glanced down at the black ichor that oozed from between her fingers as she clutched her upper arm. The man stood across from her, panting slowly, eyes and runes still ablaze, a thin runnel of blood - her blood - dripping from his blade.

"You," she hissed softly, "will pay dearly for that." She shrieked loudly as she flew at the man, determined to end this once and for all.





Deep countered the flurry of blows as quickly as he could, making his own strikes where he could. He drew blood again and again, but she wasn't slowing. But he was. And she was taking advantage of it, her razor-sharp nails carving away at him bit by bit. He winced as she sliced his arm once again.

And then he saw it - his opening. Bracing himself, he pushed off with his left leg... and felt it collapse beneath him. In the midst of the battle, he had been able to ignore the tainted wound the necromancer had given him. And now it betrayed him.

His blade went wide, penetrating the dark woman's shoulder. She screamed and slashed out with her nails, driving hard into his throat. He felt them penetrate, puncturing his trachea with a surprisingly loud pop. He struggled for breath, but all he could hear was his heart pounding in his ears as everything faded to black with dusturbing finality.





"No!" Alliance howled, drawing his crossbow. The dark woman turned, her face ghost white against her dark robes and hair. Blood, bright red on her bone-white fingers, dripped into a spreading puddle where Deep-sensei had collapsed.

"Who are you?" the woman asked. She began to move toward the pair, floating across the stone floor as if on a cushion of air. As she neared, Blue could see the damage that Deep Vermillion had wrought on her. Deep cuts, fatal on anyone human, tracked across her entire torso and out onto her limbs. Something that was like blood, but was not blood, oozed out and onto the stones as she passed over them, leaving a steaming trail behind her like some sort of dark and evil slug.

"Your worst nightmare," Alliance hissed. He fired off a series of bolts at the woman. She didn't even try to dodge them as they struck home, bouncing off of her and clattering to the floor as she neared.

"I think not," the woman said. Alliance gritted his teeth and fired another series of rapid-fire bolts at the woman, having just as little effect as the first batch. Alliance stood his ground, and Blue stayed beside him, though he was afraid he might not live to regret the decision. She came closer still, until she was within arm's reach. Her hand lashed out, dragging the crossbow from Alliance's grip.

"Hey!" Alliance shouted, stumbling back out of range of her deadly nails. She said nothing, but crushed the light crossbow in her hands, rendering steel and wood into so many splinters and scraps as quickly as a child would crumple a sheet of paper.

"I grow weary of these games," she said, her tone flat. "Where is my necromancer?"

"Gendou?" Blue asked, suddenly compelled to speak.

"Does everyone know where he is except me?" the woman sighed. Suddenly, she had Blue pressed against the wall, her face inches from his. "Where is he?"

"We saw him downstairs. He killed the weres, then disappeared." Blue could feel her breath on his throat as he spoke. He had never been so frightened in his life.

"But where is he now?" the woman hissed.

"Behind you." The voice echoed abruptly inside Blue's mind. He looked over the woman's shoulder to see a shadowy form standing across the hall. He felt rather than saw the woman's expression change to a predatory smile.

"So you've come," she said. She dropped Blue and turned to face Gendou.

"Let us end this," Gendou said.

"You won't like the way it ends," the woman said. Blue was glad he couldn't see her eyes right then.

"We'll see," the necromancer said. And something in his voice chilled Blue more than anything he had seen or heard the entire night.







Weston rounded the corner and stopped short. Ruevian stepped past him, but Graye plowed into him, nearly knocking them both off their feet.

"Sorr-" Graye began, then broke off, stunned into silence by the sight before them. Gendou, his lower face wrapped in a dark scarf, stood facing a pale woman dressed in black. She was beautiful, in a dark, hard and cold way, but the amount of power she seemed to exude was almost enough to drive a person to their knees.

"Gendou!" Ruevian shouted. One glowing red eye moved fractionally in her direction, just as the woman lunged at the necromancer. Her fingers slammed into his left shoulder, driving him backwards with the force of the impact. No blood appeared in the gaping wound as she ripped her fingers from his shoulder, but he appeared pained by the assault nonetheless.

Twisting to one side, Gendou lashed out at the woman with his spine-blade, but the weapon glanced off of her arm as if it had struck a steel plate. Laughing darkly, the woman grabbed the sword and wrenched it from Gendou with a tug. Still smiling, she crushed the center to dust in her hand, the weapon falling the pieces as she did so. Already, the wounds dotting her flesh were beginning to heal.

Gendou retreated as the woman advanced. "Very well," the necromancer said, "We'll do this another way." Pressing his back against the wall, he faded into it and vanished. The woman snarled and pounded both fists against the stone wall, fracturing the ancient structure with the force of the impact.

Turning on the newcomers, the woman advanced on Weston. "You there," she hissed, "You appear to be a likely lad. Take me to the princess."

"I'm afraid I can't do that," Weston said, backing away from the woman slowly.

"Can't?" she whispered, "Or won't?"

Weston looked panicked for a moment as he stepped backwards into the wall behind him. With nowhere else to go, he was forced to respond to the woman. "I won't tell you where she is," he muttered.

"The lich will have her soon," the woman warned. "Take me to her and I can protect her." She lifted Weston's chin with one finger, forcing him to look into her eyes. The warrior's pupils dilated as he looked at her. She stepped back, and Weston immediately began retracing the steps they had taken from the chambers where Mory waited.

"Weston, what are you doing?" Graye asked, stepping towards him. Defenestrated whirled on her, lashing out with the palm of her hand. She struck Graye dead-center of the chest and lifted her off her feet, flinging her through the air. The assassin struck the far wall with a sickening crack, then slumped to the floor like a puppet with cut strings.

Without another word, the dark woman turned and followed Weston down the hallway. Blue, Alliance and Ruevian all watched them go in disbelieving silence, before Ruevian finally turned and moved to tend to Graye.





Mory sighed, glad that Romuel had managed to whip up such a large amount of dissolution dust in such a short amount of time. The fact that the weres were magically created allowed them to simply sprinkle a teaspoon of dust on a pile of corpses and watch them crumble to powder. After that, it was just a matter of sweeping it into sacks for later removal - or sweeping it off the balcony when your mother wasn't looking, in Mory's case.

Sprinkling a bit of dust on the last pile, she turned just as Weston stepped into the room. She smiled, though she was a bit surprised to see him - he had left less than an hour before. "Weston, what are-" she began, then stopped as Weston walked past her. A moment later, a tall, regal woman dressed in black floated into the room.

"Ah, princess," the woman said, revealing a predator's smile. Mory turned to Weston, but he simply stood with his back to her, facing a blank wall. Looking back at the woman, Mory stepped away from her. She knew something was very, very wrong here.

"Please, who are you?" Mory asked. She glanced back at her mother, who was being held back by Romuel. The seer appeared to be equally worried. Then there was a flash and a hiss as Meghan's flame-sword ignited to the woman's left. The blade fell swiftly, but when it struck the dark woman, the blade simply fizzled and sparked without doing any damage whatsoever. The woman reached out and threw Meghan across the room and into a table.

The general picked herself up and charged the woman again. This time, the woman grabbed Meghan by the lapels and tossed her toward the balcony. Meghan slammed hard into the railing, then, wide-eyed, toppled over the side. Moryera shrieked as she pictured the five story fall to the stones below.

But now the woman was moving toward her again, her hands outstretched.

"Get away from my daughter!" Usagi shouted, pulling away from Romuel. The seer gasped as the queen tore away and charged the tall woman. One hand lashed out, whip-like, and the queen fell away, unconscious. There was a howl from Romuel, and Le Moru leapt the ten meter distance from where she stood to where the woman was.

"Oh, please," the mysterious woman said, batting the frantic demon aside with an almost careless wave of her hand. Le Moru rebounded from the wall and dove at the woman again, all teeth and claws and hissing, spitting fury. The woman's face contorted in frustration and she struck the monster harder than before. Le Moru struck the wall at high speed. She instantly transformed back into Romuel, who slumped to the floor, senseless.

"Who are you?" Mory breathed.

"I am Defenestrated," the woman said, smiling again in a way that made Mory's skin crawl. "And I am your godmother."





Alliance couldn't believe his eyes as he looked around the room. The queen and her aide were both unconscious, and the general was nowhere to be seen. The witch who had destroyed his crossbow and killed sensei was bearing down on the princess, while Weston stood nearby, staring at the wall and doing nothing. Glancing around for a weapon, he settled on table leg. "Hey!" he shouted, picking it up. The woman turned toward him, eyes narrowed.

"Insolence," she hissed, then stopped short as the scrape of metal on metal came from behind her. Turning, she saw that Mory had managed to draw Weston's massive sword from the scabbard on his back. "What are you doing?" the woman asked.

"Stay back!" Moryera said, attempting to wave the too-heavy blade at the woman, and succeeding only in wobbling it unsteadily. Did the witch actually flinch at that threat? Alliance didn't know. With a yell, he rushed forward. The woman twisted around, her razor-sharp fingernails searching for Alliance's soft flesh, just as Mory let the heavy sword drop.

The blade struck the woman where her neck met her shoulder, and bit deep, the weight of the blade in the princess' grip driving it down until it nearly clove the woman in half. Only when Mory released her grip on the blade did it halt its downward slide, resting somewhere in the witches' abdomen.

"No! NO!" the woman shrieked, as black ichor sprayed out from the massive and obviously fatal wound. She tried desperately to hold herself together, but it was a lost cause. With one final, terrible howl of rage, pain and grief, the witch toppled over, the sword still embedded in her body.

The sound of leather gloves clapping slowly against one another came from a darkened corner. "Oh, well done." said Gendou as he stepped out of the shadows, amusement dancing in his one good eye.







While Mory stood in shock, Gendou slipped across the room to where the dark queen lay. "I just need this," he said, kneeling beside the fallen woman. Reaching out, he slid the metal claw of his left hand deep into the chasm Moryera had rent in Defenestrated's flesh. There was a horrible squelching noise as he felt around inside. Finally, he pulled his hand free from the corpse, his claws gripping something small and hard.

"What... what is it?" Mory breathed.

"Her heart," Gendou said, examining the shriveled, shiny-black object. "I'm pleased you didn't damage it." He turned a baleful red eye upon the princess. "I should have been put out." Slipping the treasure into his robes, he looked over at Weston, who was beginning to stir from his apparent trance.

"I... I killed her," Mory whispered. "Just like those people in the inn."

"The dark queen's minions killed the people in the inn," Gendou said, shaking his head. "You just happened to be present." The look in his eye was pure amusement.

"Why can't I remember what happened?"

"Oh, that was my doing. A spell to keep you and Weston from acting. It was for your protection. I had need of you." He gestured at the corpse on the floor. "Obviously."

"But the sword..."

"Is still too heavy for you to lift." the lich said.

"Then how did I kill her?" she asked softly, gesturing at the dark queen.

"Why do you think she wanted you so badly, princess?" Gendou asked. He glared at Alliance, who was trying to sneak up on him with the table-leg. The ranger dropped the weapon and stepped back towards the door.

"I don't know..."

"Because only a female of her blood can slay her," Gendou said, sighing like a disappointed teacher with a particularly dull pupil.

"Her blood?" Mory asked.

"She is your great-great-great-great..." the lich paused here, cocking his head to one side and thinking for a moment before continuing, "...great-great-great-aunt. On your father's side."

"So she's old?" Alliance ventured.

"Oh, quite," the lich replied.

"Why are you telling me all this?" the princess asked.

"Because I have what I want now, and I have nothing particularly against you."

"So many people are dead," Alliance growled.

"So am I. Do you see me complaining?" Gendou retorted, his tone sharp with annoyance. He glowered at Alliance, then turned to Mory. "Tell Ruevian I-" He broke off as a sudden and sharp flash of light illuminated the room, and a glowing figure appeared near the balcony.

Gendou blinked once at the newcomer, then nodded to Mory. "Well, I believe I've overstayed my welcome," he said, and faded from view just as a brilliant beam of energy lanced through the space where he had been standing.

"Damn it!" Ananel snapped, then promptly vanished with another flash of light and a thunderclap of displaced air.

"What the hell?" Blue asked as he appeared in the doorway with Ruevian right behind him.

"I really don't know," Alliance responded, blinking. There was a deafening roar from outside, followed by shouts and the sounds of fighting. "What the hell?" Alliance asked. Mory didn't reply, but knelt next to her mother and began to tend the few minor wounds the queen was exhibiting.

"I really don't know," Blue mimicked, walking toward the balcony. Alliance glared at his partner and started to follow, but instead walked over to where Romuel lay.

"What happened?" Weston asked, gripping the back of one of the few intact chairs to help support himself. Mory looked up from where she was tending to her mother, but said nothing.

"We're still working that out," Ruevian replied.

"Gendou was here," the prince said, his tone grave.

"I know," Ruevian said, closing her eyes. A horrible, animalistic shriek echoed from the tower, followed by an earth-shaking impact. "What was that?" Ruevian asked.

"I still don't know," Blue said, trying to peer down and around into the courtyard. "The General is on the balcony below us."

"Is she okay?" Mory gasped.

"She's breathing," Blue replied.

"Thank the gods," the princess whispered, cradling her mother's head in her lap.

"I can't see what's going on down there," Blue finally said. He left the balcony and joined Alliance in ministering to Romuel. A crashing echoed up from downstairs.

"Weres?" Weston asked. He reached for his sword, but found it no longer on his back. Turning, he found it embedded in a corpse a few feet from where he stood. "Did I...?" His tone was all confusion.

"No," Mory said, blushing, "that was me."

"Again?" Ruevian asked, surprised.

"It wasn't me the first time," the princess said.

"I didn't think it was," Weston said, nodding. He was silent as he thought back on their first meeting. Then another crash, followed by shouts from downstairs broke his reverie.

"This can't be good," Alliance said.

"We'll deal with it," Blue said, drawing his sword.

"We always do," Weston agreed, recovering his own blade.

They waited as the footsteps on the stairs grew louder and more intense. Suddenly, a man dressed in dark green cloth and leathers burst into the room, a serious expression on his face.

"Usagi, can the cook prepare dragon meat? We have a lot of it downsta-" The man stopped short and stared first at Weston and then at Blue. A young boy, similarly dressed, joined him, followed by three huge orcs. "What happened here?" the man demanded.

"Daddy?" Mory gasped. The man blinked at her, then his face lit up.

"Princess!" he roared, rushing to her side. Then he saw the queen, and he sobered again. "What happened?"

"She was hurt," Mory sobbed.

"Don't worry," her father said, awkwardly stroking her hair. "Muphag is the best shaman the orcs have. He'll have your mother patched up in no time." He gestured to one of the burly, green-skinned monsters. The orc stepped forward and knelt next to Usagi, chanting and waving glowing hands over her. Slowly, the queen's eyes fluttered open, lighting immediately on her husband.

"It's about damned time you got here," she muttered before closing her eyes again.





"So that's everything that happened, I think," Mory said. Her father bit off a piece of meat and chewed it thoughtfully.

"It sounds like you've had quite an adventure," he finally said. Mory nodded quietly, looking around the table at the friends she hadn't had just a month before. Weston squeezed her hand under the table, and she blushed.

"Once Mother recovers," Mory said, looking at her father, "we'll have the wedding?"

"I don't see why not," the king said, nodding. He had enjoyed his talk with Weston. He was a prince and rogue, like the king himself had once been, and still fancied himself to be.

"I think we'll be moving on before that," Ruevian said, glancing at Blue and Alliance. The pair nodded in agreement.

"You can't stay for the wedding?" Weston asked, surprised.

"No," the assassin replied, her tone regretful, "we have to find Gendou and Ananel."

"Calmer and the kitsune are planning to come along, though the shaman insists he needs to stay off his leg," Alliance said.

"And Arcadian is still trying find a way to wake Graye up. Once he does, they'll undoubtedly join us as well," Blue added. There was an uncomfortable silence as everyone mulled over their own thoughts on the priest and the lich.

"It sounds like a fine quest," the king finally said, nodding. "We wish you all the luck. If there is anything we can do to help, you have but to ask."

"Thank you, your majesty," Ruevian said, smiling sadly.

"So much destruction," the king said, shaking his head. "But so much to be thankful for as well."

"Amen," Weston agreed, and everyone nodded in agreement.

Reserved.

Reserved.

Reserved.