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Ura looked up at her. He had to ask. "What story telling, really means?" He said, liking it when she hugged him. He missed getting hugs. No one ever seemed to touch him like that since his mother died. The people that did want to touch him usually wanted to mug him or worse. "I don't understand".

As Ismael breathed the nanobots floated out on the air and fell on Vincent, burrowing once more into his flesh and resuming their original functions. "I assume this gentleman is the older man that appeared behind me in my room not too long ago?"

Vincent admired the scar on his hand and had the nanobots repair it, "I can imagine the havoc such a conflict would create, I find that it would be quite poetic. However it works against one of my goals so I am interested as to what his plan is. I myself can feel the pull the storytelling, as you call it, exerts on me. Larger groups cause more pain and affecting the world would probably cause immediate death of the teller."

Vincent admired the flawless skin work the nanobots hand done in but a moment, "So why are they so terrified of you if you don't mind my asking?"

Ura looked up at her. He felt comfortable holding her hand, like when he held his mothers hand. He ran along side her, she ran fast. When they sat in the plane he asked if they could sit by the window. "Please we sit window by? Ura never remembers being on plane, we sit yes?" He tried to pull her by the window.

Maddie nodded at Ura's request and escorted him down the asile of the plan and put him in the window seat. She sat next to him, and Niteshade next to her. Sapphira sat across the aisle from them and Maddie waved at her, not wanting her to feel left out in any way. The plane took off without incident, and Maddie felt immense relief when they reached cruising altitude. Obviously Ishmael and the talking-snake-man had not sabotaged their flight.

"Six hours here, and another 7 after JFK," she sighed, relaxing. First class was so comfortable. "Maybe we can catch a nap. Now, Ura, would you like to know more about storytelling?" The boy nodded vigorously. "Well, for starters, storytelling is what it sounds like. It's telling a story, rather like narrating, except the words you speak influence the life around you. Now, you and Niteshade share a talent for art, so you may have to study together to hone that ability. But as far as words go, those you choose to imbeu with power make things happen. Like back at the air port, or really early this morning when you screamed. You told a story, a short, broken story but one with enough power to make something happen. You have to be really careful, though, because when you use a lot of power, or draw a lot of powerful pictures and keep them in one spot, that power can act like...like a light house or a foghorn to people looking for you. That can be a good thing if Niteshade, Sapphira or I need to find you, but there are also bad people, like that man in the car, who want to hurt us, who we need to hide from. So rule number one about story telling is not to use it unless you absolutely have to."

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Ishmael smiled at Vincent's ingenuity. He was proving himself useful, even if he was impertinent and annoying. He was intuitive and he thought well in advance. It might be worth it to play a round of chess with this young man, to see what he was made of.

"You should know that the Captain's gift will wear off," he said softly. "When it does, your nanites will turn to dust, your snake to ash. As it is, you spend precious power maintaining their existence, since they were essentially created from nothing. The first thing you must understand about storytelling, friend, is that everything has it's price. Second thing is that telling small stories to persuade events in your direction is not only easier on your powers but cause less havoc in the long run. You know that old saying that a butterfly flaps it's wings in China and there's a hurricane in Florida? Well, storytellers are the artists of butterfly wings."

Maddie's heart ached for the boy. "What story did you tell?" she asked softly.

Maddie took Ura's hand and closed her eyes. They were in the air now, so if she used a little of her talent to seek this history of this story, it shouldn't hurt.

She looked backwards into Ura's story. She saw the bright eyed little boy talking to his cat. She barely caught the words, but she felt the flavor of them. Even as faint echos of the past, the words the child spoke did not tell a story with the power to change it...

...but with the power to predict it.

Maddie looked deeper, examining the fire. It was not natural. Wires who were happily bound were ripped from their plastic casings to rain sparks on building materials too dry and dead to be natural. This fire was planned. This fire was told.

She opened her eyes and looked at the small, pensive boy. "You did not start the fire. Some one else did. But you did predict it. And I suppose you predicted our meetings. Your storytelling is unique in that you can tell what may happen in the future, like a prophet. I don't know the extent of your abilities, but it's just another reason I want to keep you safe."

When Sapphira flopped into her seat on the plane, she listened to Maddie's explanation to Ura. She closed her eyes and word unbidden rose from her throat.

"Honestly, I do not know my own abilities." Shocked at her confession, her cheeks reddened slightly.

"We all seem to have the power to do something different," she paused, "My mother thought me a freak because I was a genious and a plaything when I was little, and weaving stories from, what I remember, vaguely, my dad saying one day after a disaster, music..." She stared at her father's journal.

"That was the last time I would speak to my father," she said softly. "I had no chance to say goodbye." Her eyes then hardened.

"That's when my mother lost it. Greed took over and she started advancing in the actress bussiness and she got cocky. She rejected me and my talent. She started trying to get me to weave stories for her success. When I refused that fateful night, she slammed the door on me, saying that she had no daughter, and stormed off to the local bar. Drunk, she got into her car, and ran a red light," Sapphira closed her eyes again, "And I was forced into an orphanage. I escaped, and tried my best to avoid publicity. The poparatzi found that I was no longer in the orphanage and began their hunt for me, asking silly questions and twisting the answer into something foul." This, she spat out. After a moment of silence she sighed and put her head in her hand.

Well, I'd hoped that Cronos might have added something by now, and I hate to add MORE for him to read, but lets break this stale streak!
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"Ura, you are a treasure.You didn't cause the fire. You're not the one to blame. Don't ever forget it," she insisted.

Then Sapphira burst out with her confession and Maddie's heart ached for this new friend. She reached across Niteshade to briefly squeeze Sapphira's hand.

"Seems like we're all carrying emotional baggage," she said. "Ireland is just the thing for us. Nothing like a salt breeze and the open moors to clear the head and sooth the heart."

She did her best not to show how deeply worried she was. They had shook off Ishmael for the moment, but what about when they landed? What about in Dublin? Sleep. That's what she needed right now. She sighed and leaned back in her seat. She looked over at Niteshade. Sweet, dependable Niteshade.

"Do you mind if I use your shoulder as a pillow?" she asked. "I'm so tired, I might fall asleep at any moment."
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"You may want to consider disbanding your nanites," Ishmael suggested. "Save your power for the real struggle. We will apprehend them in Ireland. They think it a haven, and indeed, there are pockets there where they will be impossible to track, but the Captain has also established his presence on the Emerald Isle. It will provide the greatest advantage for finishing this matter quickly and decisively. But in the meantime, let us keep them so harried that they cannot catch their breath and form a plan of their own."

The Captain would rip him a new one for letting Madalyn and Nigel to escape to one of the most unpredictable islands in the world, but Ishmael hoped that as soon as he caught the two renegades, plus that exceptionally powerful urchin they had picked up, it would merit enough favor for him to keep that blue eyed vixen for himself. The Captain wasn't particularly fond of Harpers anyway, since their power was so broad and general. Even though they could influence more people on a greater scale than an individual Teller or Drawer, it was harder to control the specific outcomes. But Ishmael himself had several things in mind for this particular Harper. Oh yes. Several delightful thoughts filled his mind and the corner of his mouth twitched with the anticipated pleasure of their next meeting.