Daine sat in the infirmary, anxiously watching Duke Baird heal Numair. The mage was sound asleep, hand placed firmly in Daine's. Max, Fang, Iggy, Nudge, Gazzy and Angel all had stayed in the training yards, refusing to go into the palace since their were so many mages about.

Duke Baird straightened up with a sigh. Daine looked at him expectantly. "He'll be fine. He just needs to rest up and sleep a bit."

Daine sighed in relief. "Thankyou so much," she said sincerely.

"No problem. It's my job to heal after all," he smiled fondly at her. His face became sombre when he said, "If he had gotten here any later, though, I probably wouldn't have been able to save him." He instantly regretted mentioning it because Daine's face became troubled again and her already puffy red eyes glazed over with more unshed tears. "It's all right, Daine," he said softly. "Numair's fine. I've healed the break and mended the muscle tissue." She nodded and turned to stroke the Numair's forehead with the back of her hand.

"I'll be back later to check up on him," Duke Baird called back over his shoulder as he left the couple.

Heavy panting and running footsteps made Daine look up not long after the healer had left. "His Majesty wishes to see you," panted a third year page. "Right away. He said it was important."

Daine frowned. She didn't want to leave Numair. But she couldn't turn down the King's request, especially if he wanted to see her quickly and deemed the matter important. Sighing, she got up from the chair she sat in beside Numair's bed, laid the mage's hand gently down on the bed by his side and kissed his forehead before turning to follow the page.

"Daine, take a seat," King Jonathan said, indicating a chair. Daine sat. "So, would you like to explain what happened? I know you were attacked by bandits but I'm curious as to who these young people are in my training yard."

King Jonathan and Queen Thayet were quiet after Daine finished telling them what had transpired in the last week. They both had thoughtful, yet troubled, faces. "I am displeased that we never knew of this foul mage before," the King said at last. "He must've been extremely powerful to give Numair a run for his money."

"So these children are the human Stormwings who are People you set out to find?" Thayet said. "That is very interesting."

"Yes. They are very . . ." Daine paused, searching for the right word. "I was going to say timid, but they aren't. They're protective of each other, untrusting and extremely fearful of mages, although they hide it behind anger," she finally settled with.

"Well that's understandably, considering all they've been through," Thayet said.

"I would like to speak with them," Jonathan mused. "They sound spectacular. You said they finished of nine bandits who were armed with no weapons themselves?" he asked Daine.

"Yes. I was preoccupied at the time," she smiled thinly. "But now I do remember them taking the bandits down unarmed."

"Remarkable. Are they Shang warriors?" Jonathan asked. Then he answered himself, "No, that can't be possible, only if the mage was Shang which is impossible since they don't accept Gifted students."

"I still wonder where they learnt it," Thayet said.

"Well, lets ask them," Jonathan said, beckoning over a servant. "You will find six children in the training yards. Please bring them here. If they refuse, tell them I ordered them to come," he told the servant before the man nodded and hurried out the door.

The servant came hurrying back with the six children walked behind him. He kept sending them fearful glances – obliviously news had gone around that six unnatural winged children had flown to the palace with Numair Salamin wounded in their arms, accompanied by the Wildmage.

"I am King Jonathan, this is Queen Thayet," Jonathan said once they were seated beside Daine. "What would your names be?"

The children shared significant glances. Max and Fang glanced at the window behind King Jonathan. "I'm Maximum, this is Fang, Iggy, Nudge, the Gasman and Angel," she said pointing to each of her flock in turn before bowing to the monarchs.

"You do not have a proper name?" Thayet enquired.

"Tarloy always said that if we were to be asked that, we were to say we were his. I disagreed and picked a name myself for my flock and I. We are of the Sky. Maximum of the Sky," Max said.

Thayet smiled while Jon raised a raven black eyebrow. "Is that so?" he asked quietly.

"Yes, sire," Max said. "No one and nothing will change that."

Jonathan barked a laugh. "I would like to hear your story first hand, Maximum of the Sky."

"Please, just Max," she said. She looked at Fang, hesitating. He nodded slightly.

Daine and their Majesties listened closely to their tale. Although she had already heard it, Daine was still mesmerised. When King Jonathan summoned his gift to detect if they were lying, the children nearly fled. Only Daine's reassurance convinced them to stay – that as well as they didn't want to offend the realms monarchs.

"It must be a sight to see," Thayet said. When she saw everyone's puzzled glances she explained, "Their flying."

"How did you kill the bandits?" Jonathan asked, staring intently at the children before him.

Max looked at him blankly.

Tell him, Max, Daine mind-spoke to her. Max stared at Daine before sighing and turning to Jonathan and Thayet. "I wouldn't tell you, but since you're the realms rulers I must. We," she said, gesturing towards her flock. "Have enhanced abilities. We can outrun any human, we are almost stronger than anyone else, even Angel. We have other gifts, as well. Not magic gifts, but abilities. We keep evolving."

"Other abilities like what?" demanded Jonathan.

"I can breathe underwater and fly super fast. Fang can turn invisible and breathe underwater. Nudge can sense people's emotions on the things they've touched and attract metal objects to herself. Iggy can summon fire and can sense colours. Gazzy can knock anyone out with his, erm, gas. Angel can read peoples minds, control them, breathe underwater, change shape partially, talk to sea animals and gauge peoples emotions," Max said.

"Do you have some sort of gift?" Thayet asked.

"No, Tarloy tested us frequently. We don't know what it is," Max said. So far the others hadn't said a word.

"How did you learn to fight?"

"Tarloy taught us what he knew and we taught ourselves the rest. He also controlled a Shang warrior into teaching us then erased him memory."

"What will you do now?" Thayet asked.

"The Voice told me to come here, to see the King – you," came Max's reply. Daine, Thayet and Jonathan could all see from her expressionless face that she didn't like telling them about herself and her flock, whatever the reasons.

"I never asked you to come here," Jonathan said.

"You're the Voice?" Max asked, incredulous.

"Yes, I am the Voice of the Bazhir desert tribes. I haven't ever talked to you before and it highly unlikely that you are Bazhir, even," he said.

"You don't sound like the Voice," Max said.

"When do you hear the Voice?" Thayet asked.

"Whenever. It speaks in my head. The others can't hear it. It tells me what to do, whats going to happen."

"It isn't me," King Jonathan said firmly.

"Wait a second, please," Max said with an intense look of concentration on her face. Finally, she sighed. "It said it is not the Voice of the Bazhir tribes. It said it doesn't call itself the Voice, I only gave it that name. It says it is here in the palace, that I will find it eventually."

"In the palace?" Jonathan murmured. His brow creased.

"Where will you be staying?" Thayet asked as her husband thought. The flock all looked to Max, something no one in the room missed. "You could stay here in the Palace," Thayet offered.

"Yes, they will stay here. If they go into the City, they will alarm the people there and havoc will break loose. No doubts the Rogue will try something, too," Jonathan said.

Max and the Flock were all silent for a long time. "Angels says we can trust you so we'll stay."

"Very well," Jonathan said. "Daine I presume you will be going to the infirmary?"

"Yes," Daine said.

"Please escort Max and her flock there for an overlook and healing from Duke Baird."

"Of course," she said. She stood, bowed and then walked out the doors back towards her husband.

"Daine," Numair murmured, feeling his wives hand stroking the hair back from his face. Her other hand gave his hand a firm reassuring squeeze as she said; "I'm here."

"Never will I go flying again as a human," he said, peeling open his heavy eyelids. "Never."

Daine laughed, relieved to see his eyes open again. Although Duke Baird had promised her Numair's health, she was still worried when he slept. Numair happily returned her loving kiss when she bent down to press her lips to his. "Ah, sweet," Numair sighed. "What happened? I've fair forgotten most of it."

"The flock handled the bandits while looked after you. Then Iggy suggested they fly you to the palace, because you'd die of blood loss if you didn't get there quick enough," Numair squeezed his wife's hand when a shudder ran through her body as she thought of the possibility of his death. "Max and Fang carried you. I flew as an Albatross. We landed in the training yards which were empty, thankfully. Then Duke Baird partially healed you out there before you were carried inside to be healed fully. Jon and Thayet have already seen me and the Flock about what happened. When you're better your to see him as well."

"Where'd they go?" Numair asked. Seeing her puzzled expression, he explained, "The Flock."

"They went out to watch the pages train. They're like cornered cats here in the palace," Daine said.

"Okay," Numair said. They lapsed into an easy silence, Daine still stroking his hair. He smiled, enjoying the feeling. "Did you know," he said unexpectedly. "That the ladies at court used to stroke my hair like this. They pampered their hands with all sorts of creams and lotions but nothing compares to how soft your callused, hard working hands feel. Strange, isn't it? It's not even logical that your harder hands are softer then theirs."

Daine gave him a small smile. "Yes. I suppose so," she said.

Numair, seeing her expression sighed. "Daine," he whispered. "They're nothing compared to you. None of them made this everlasting impression on me like you do. I love you, Magelet."

"I know," she said, giving him a peck. "And I love you, Master Mage."

"Miss," a voice called as a young boy ran up the isle between beds in the infirmary towards Daine. Numair sent him a cool look. "Ah, Mrs. Salamin," he amended. "You're needed in the training yards."

"Why?" Daine asked.

"Ah, well, the – the children, they are, well, challenging the Shang Wildcat. They insist they touch up on their skills, when really, they don't have any and the training master said you would relate to them, convince them."

Numair groaned. "I'll come with you, Magelet," he said.

"You should stay and rest," Daine stressed, stranding up.

"I'm coming," he said firmly, also standing. The world spun before Numair's eyes and he fell back onto the bed again. Luckily he was still in his breeches but someone – probably Daine – had removed his blood stained tunic and dressed him in another clean one. That saved changing clothes. He stood again and managed to remain upright, although the room still spun dangerously. Daine sighed and helped to support him. Together, with the page, they made their way out of the infirmary and towards the training yards.

When they got there, Max and her flock were standing facing Lord Wyldon and the Shang Wildcat. The third year pages stood around, watching what was going on with wide excited eyes.

"You cannot challenge a Shang without Shang combat skills," Lord Wyldon was saying briskly as Mage and Magelet walked towards them.

"But we have Shang combat skills. We'd be as good as her," Iggy said, pointing towards the Shang Wildcat. "Maybe even better."

"What's going on?" Daine called out, striding towards the conflict.

"We just want to learn some more, compare skills, touch up on our combat training, but he," Max said, gesturing towards Lord Wyldon, "Won't let us."

"I don't think your Shang," the Wildcat said, eyes roaming over the bird children.

Max, Daine mind-spoke the leader of the flock, The Wildcat is exceptionally good in combat. This wont be like handling a couple of hill bandits.

Exactly my point. The bandits I could've dealt with my eyes closed and hands tied behind my back. And this won't be a fight to the death. It would be like training, comparing skills, Max replied, also mind-speaking.

"Except you'll get hurt," Daine exclaimed out loud, throwing her hands in the air.

"What?" Lord Wyldon asked.

"I have a connection to Max and her flock. Like with the People, err, the animals," Daine explained. "I forgot to mind-speak," she added with a self-conscious blush.

"We won't get hurt. I told you we have enhanced abilities," Max said.

"Is that so?" the Wildcat asked, raising an arched eyebrow. "Well then," she murmured and swung around with a roundhouse kick unexpectedly. Max caught her leg. "Yes," Max said coolly.

"Stop it, NOW!" Lord Wyldon roared. He turned towards the Shang Wildcat. "I assumed you'd have the common sense not to engage a sixteen year old girl in Shang combat! It seems I am mistaken," he snarled.

The Shang Wildcat looked at him. "You think I would've hit her? It was a test."

"Now will you let us?" Iggy demanded, exasperated.

"No," Wyldon snarled. "Yes," Max said. The Wildcat looked thoughtful.

"If we promise not to break you?" Max said.

The Wildcat grinned. "I don't think you'll be able to. Who trained you, if what you're saying is true?"

"The mage who made us used magic on a Shang to get him to train us. Then he erased the man's memory. I don't know his name," Max explained.

"Lord Wyldon?" the Wildcat asked. "Can we begin? I won't hurt them. You can call it off whenever you like, if you see a need."

"We are meant to be training the pages," he stated.

"And this will be very educational for them," Max said. She looked Wyldon up and down. "And – most definitely – you, as well." With that she turned and walked away from the little group with the flock at her heels.

Numair, who had been silent the whole time, told Lord Wyldon, "I'll stop it if it gets out of hand, My Lord."

"Very well," Lord Wyldon said. He turned and walked off, yelling at pages to stop standing there like stunned mullets, and telling them to stand outside the training yard. They all found seats on or against the wooden fence.

"You shouldn't, Numair," Daine said as she helped her weak love off the field as well. "You're drained."

"And my magic restores itself quickly, Magelet," Numair answered, trying not to lean on her small form too much. "I have enough to stop them if Lord Wyldon can't."

Daine sighed. She knew from experience how hard it was to make her husband change his mind once he'd set it on something.

Numair stood behind Daine, his long arms wrapped around her slim waist, head resting on her brown curls. They both watched as the Shang Wildcat and the human Stormwing children warmed up, stretching their muscles to avoid injury, before their fight.They flexed and bended as if they didn't have bones. Numair frowned, wondering if this was a trait that came from their animal DNA and resolved to look into the matter.

"You ready to begin?" the Wildcat asked. Numair frowned again, wondering whom she was meant to verse. All of the Flock had stretched and warmed up. "Who wants to go first?"

"I wanna have a go," Iggy said. "Yeah, me too," Nudge added, beaming. Gazzy and Angel piped up, too. They broke out in an argument about who was to go first. No matter how unique they are, Numair thought, they're just children when you reach the base of the matter. He chuckled.

"Stop it, stop it," Max sighed. She shared a significant glance with Fang. They had a somewhat confusing, silent conversation finally with Max sighing. "Don't do anything stupid. Don't hurt yourself or her," she said, frowning at Fang. "Boys," she muttered and Fang's mouth twitched.

Daine shifted in his arms. "Numair? Don't drain yourself again, please. I'll handle it," she murmured. Numair was struck at how lucky he was to have her – yet again.

He sighed, resigned. "I promise."

"So, you're first?" the Wildcat asked. Fang nodded, face betraying no emotion. "Okay, we'll start easy?" Fang nodded again. The Wildcat looked a little put off. Numair wondered what she was going to do – anything they did - even when they 'started easy' - blew his mind. "Just some basic punches, blocks and kicks." Fang nodded.

Max, Iggy and the three younger bird children moved away to give the fighters some space. "Don't hurt her, Fang," Max called out. Fang, once again, nodded but the corner of his mouth twitched in the ghost of a smile.

It soon became clear to everyone present that Fang knew what he was doing as well as the Wildcat. He flew through the basics with flying colours. The pages stood there and gaped when he completed the basic things they'd been learning to do all year in minutes. Lord Wyldon watched every move the Wildcat and Fang made with a critical eye, looking for mistakes or a chance for either to receive an injury. Max hovered nearby; also watching every move, although Numair thought it was for another reason.

"I think we're ready for a real fight," Fang said.

Lord Wyldon pursed his lips as all eyes turned towards him. "Very well," he said. He fingered the scar that ran down the side of his face, forehead creased. The pages turned their attention back to the fighters in the training ring, eyes shining with excitement.

"We'll start easy and progress to harder levels, the same as we did with the basics. Okay?" the Wildcat asked. Fang nodded, face blank. He reminded Numair of the Yamani's. Everyone held their breath, waiting.

The Wildcat came at Fang, punching high. He blocked easily. The Wildcat then feinted a blow down low but Fang – somehow – managed to block the hit that was aimed towards his middle. They moved constantly, on their toes and watching each other with watchful, calculating, appraising eyes. The Wildcat came at Fang yet again and Numair watched, rapt, as Fang lightly stepped to the side, then carrying the momentum, spun around with a roundhouse kick. He moved so fast that the Wildcat only barely managed to block in time. His kick wasn't hard, not hard enough to cause serious injury like Numair was sure Fang was capable of doing but it still took the Wildcat by surprise. Instinct took hold though, and the Wildcat grabbed his leg before it could hit her. She pushed it away from her, forcing Fang to stumble to the side. That, at least was what Numair expected to happen, recalling on previous fights he'd seen. Instead Fang flipped around in a half turn and punched at her. She blocked with time to spare.

Numair could see it when the fight progressed to a higher level. They started moving faster, aiming with more force and accuracy. Numair could no longer see their movements exactly; they were both fast moving blurs. He could, however, hear them. Each blow rang out through the awed silence of the on lookers.

A glance at Lord Wyldon told Numair that the hard training master was deeply impressed. He watched with the same rapt, appreciative, knowing expression as some of the knights that had drifted over to see the spectacle.

Max on the other side of the training ring from Numair also watched intently. She jerked from time to time with moves that she would have made, never looking away from Fang's fight, as if she were the one testing her skills against the Shang warrior.

Turing his attention back to the fight, Numair caught sight of the Wildcat jumping backwards then lurching forward again, forcing Fang to step back a step to avoid the punch she aimed at him. She then did a half turn and snapped her leg out in a deadly kick. Fang didn't block in time and it hit him in his side. Numair was certain that that blow would've knocked the breath out of anyone elsebut Fang moved back for two seconds, catching his breath, before lurching back towards his deadly Shang opponent. His movements a blur, he managed to hit the Shang warrior in her side. Without pausing, he spun around and kicked at her – without too much force – before recovering from his spin and kick to aim a blow down low. The Shang Wildcat managed to block his well-aimed kick, but failed to do so for the punch. She, too, recovered exceptionally quickly, but nowhere near as quickly as the young boy before her.

The Wildcat stepped back. Fang stopped, also. The Shang warrior looked her young opponent up and down. "You've been taught well, whoever your teacher was," she said. Her voice was hoarse and a page hurried over with a water flask in hand. He gave it to the Wildcat, who downed it in two gulps then scuttled off, quickly returning with it full for Fang. Fang also drank it down gratefully.

"That was a good fight. Very skilfully done," Lord Wyldon said gruffly, walking over. Fang, once again, nodded. So did the Shang Wildcat. "Boys, let's get back to work," he called out to the pages who were still looking at the Wildcat and Fang with awed, wistful expressions. They reluctantly followed Lord Wyldon with dragging feet and many backwards glances.

"Who won?" Daine asked Numair quietly as Fang and the Wildcat walked out of the training ring, towards Max and the Flock.

"It was pretty even, sweet," Numair said. "A test of skills, not a proper battle."

"Oh," was all she said. After a pause she said, "I best get you back to the infirmary, Numair. Duke Baird will want to check up on you."

Before he could answer his wife though, Daine pulled free of his loving embrace. "Sweet?" Numair asked. She didn't reply. She ran off with a hand clamped over her mouth to the nearby gardens. Daine was violently ill in the gardens, causing her husband to panic and fill with concern for her. "Daine, Daine, what's wrong?" he asked as he held her hair back from her face.

"Just some bad food, I think," she said in a choked voice. She straightened up then bent over again and was ill once more. Numair was worried. Maybe he should take her to see a healer? "I'm fine," she croaked when he asked her if she was okay.

"Come on. We were headed towards the infirmary, you'd best go see Duke Baird as well," Numair said. Daine grimaced, but nodded. Together they made their way to the infirmary.

"Daine?" Nudge called out, running to watch up to the pair. "Will we see you later? Are you okay? You were sick and all. I'm not sure what types of sickness there are but I don't want you to get any. Have you ever had a bad sickness? Did you nearly die? That would have been really bad. Have you seen anyone die before? I've only seen Tarloy and he was a bad person. It must be really bad to see someone you like die." She stopped, blushing, suddenly aware she was babbling.

"I'm fine, thankyou," Daine said, amusement evident to Numair in her voice. "Yes, I'll definitely see you later."

"All right," Nudge said, grinning, as she ran back towards Max and her flock. "We'll be hanging out here. The palace stinks of mages." She screwed her face up in disgust.

"Look at Daine first, please," Numair requested of Duke Baird once they'd arrived in the infirmary. "I'm fine and she was just ill in the gardens."

"How do you feel?" the healer asked Daine.

"Fine," she lied. She had been feeling fine. A bit tired maybe, then all of a sudden she was sick. It must have been something she'd eaten, although she couldn't think of what.

"Magelet," Numair said sternly.

She sighed. Sometimes she wished he didn't know her so well. "I feel a bit tired, that's all. I don't know where that came from," she said, looking at Duke Baird. "Must have been some bad food."

"Well, bad food or no," the healer told her, "I'll give you a check over. Sit down," headded, indicating the chair next to the bed Numair was sitting on. Daine frowned but obliged.

Duke Baird's gift entering her body made her skin tingle and itch a little bit. When she squirmed uncomfortably, the healer said, "Hold still. I can't do anything if you're jumping about." The examination was quick andDaine was relieved when, after a few minutes, Duke Baird withdrew his gift, having completed his search. He stood, searching her face, then Numair's.

"Well?" Numair asked anxiously. The healer looked between the pair again and Daine bit her lip, wondering what the problem was. She shifted under his intense stare.

"Well," Duke Baird said. "It's not a food bug that's made you sick, Daine," he said slowly, an unsure smile growing on his face. Will this be good or bad news for them? The healer wondered. "It's, well, you're with child, Daine."

Daine sat there, staring at the healer with stunned disbelief written on her face. Numair also stared at the healer, although Daine couldn't imagine what his expression was like. Numair, who had been holding her hand, now gripped and squeezed her fingers so hard the tips starting turning purple. The young woman hardly noticed.

Her mother had been a midwife. She had seen women come to her mother all the time, wondering if they were pregnant. She had learnt from an early age how women became pregnant, how to stop becoming pregnant – a pregnancy charm. She knew the early signs of pregnancy. She knew all about morning sickness. She touched her neck, startled to find her charm gone. Where did it go? Daine wondered stupidly.

Slowly, though, a smile spread across her face.

Daine's pregnant. The words kept ringing through his head, over and over. With your child. He was going to be a father? He was going to be a father! Daine was having his child. It is my child, isn't it? Were the next thoughts to break through his stunned state. How? Was the next immediate thought. Where'd her charm go? He struggled to recall the last time they had made love. Had it been there or hadn't it? He couldn't recall.

He had meant to squeeze Daine's hands reassuringly, but some how he had caught her small fingers in a hard, vice-like grip. He was vaguely away of Duke Baird quietly leaving.

Did Daine want this? What was she thinking? He thought. Maybe she would think this was the biggest mistake of her life. Maybe she didn't want to have his child. Maybe she didn't want to have an old mans baby.

He looked down at her, seeking the answers in her expression, the one he could read so well, to find she was smiling. Did that mean she was happy? Her smile was hesitant but her eyes were shining with a glow he had never seen before.

"Daine?" he croaked.

"Numair?" she sounded stunned.

"Are you okay?"

She beamed at him but then her expression shifted and she looked worried. She bit her bottom lip – something she did when she was nervous, worried or anxious. "Yes, I'm fine. Are you . . ?" her voice trailed off and Numair struggled to understand what her question was.

"I'm fine," he finally said.

"No, I mean, are you all right with this? Do you want this? I -" Daine stopped talking and bit her lip. Her hand started to shake in Numair's and he relaxed his strong grip on her fingers. Her hands still shook, though.

Did he want this? "Magelet," he sighed. A thought occurred to him: What if he told her the truth – that he did want this, and she didn't then she thought she'd have to want this because he did . . . "Do you?"

She nodded, her mouth now trembling, although she still bit her bottom lip. Numair pulled her into his arms, hugging her close. "Magelet, Magelet," he murmured into her hair. "Of course I want this," he told her sincerely.

"Really?" her voice was muffled.

"Absolutely. Are you sure?" he asked her, rocking them both backwards and forwards.

"Absolutely," she echoed him. She looked at him, eyes shining with tears and pressed a hand to her stomach, looking down at it with wonder. "It's hard to believe that I have a baby in here," she said. "Your baby."

Ah, so it was his child. Numair smiled at the idea. "It is, isn't it?"

Duke Baird returned then. "Are you both okay? It must have been quite a shock," he said, smiling when he saw their embrace.

"So it was," Daine said. "We're great, but you never checked up on Numair." She looked at Numair accusingly. He chuckled.

"Rightly so." Duke Baird walked over and examined Numair. Throughout his check up, Numair's eyes never left Daine who sat down in the chair beside the bed. Duke Baird told him that he could return to his chambers to rest and recover and that sleep was all that was needed for him to be back in order.

"In to bed with you, Master Mage," Daine said sternly once they had arrived in their room.

"Only if you come with me," he said, grinning. They both got into the grand bed and settled down for an afternoon nap, tired both physically and emotionally.

I stared at the little twerps pointedly until they looked away. They – the pages – had better get their noses outta our business. Things were going from bad to worse around here. Sure, we got rid or Tarloy, the poor excuse for a human being, but then we got another mage, one even more powerful. That was just what I needed, but things got worse. The Voice told me, demanded, ordered, grovelled with me until I agreed to come to the palace. Rulers were bad news in my book. The image I got of rulers – thanks to Tarloy – or those who wanted to be rulers, was that they were all bad, merciless, people set on world domination.

Not a nice stereotype for them, trust me.

As if coming here wasn't enough, the Voice made me tell the King about us. Sure, we'd probably get hanged or something if we didn't tell him, 'cause he's all power-obsessed and ordered us too, but, it would've made me much, much, much more happier if we had flew out of there, never to be seen again.

I'm just funny that way.

Then, everyone is suspicious and makes signs to 'ward of the evil' whenever they see my flock or I because we have wings. Like I had a choice if I was a mutant freak. They should try something called empathy. It's meant to be great – not that I'd know.

Then, as we were hanging around in the courtyards and training fields 'cause I had forbidden the flock to set foot in the palace – unless under extreme circumstances, of course – because there were so many people and mages, a haughty Lord Wyldon man had came out like a shepherd with a bunch of sheep trailing behind him and a Shang warrior to train the sheep.

Sheep. Pages. I see the resemblance.

Then the Flock had gotten excited about seeing a Shang warrior. It had almost been three years since we were trained but the last one was saw and they insisted on testing there skills and touching up.

Like I was ever going to agree to that.

But they had started an argument with the training master, demanding that they test their skills. We always back each other up, so when he started screeching down their throats, I joined in too.

That's when Daine turned up, dragging that horrible Mage along with her.

I so was not going to back down, or change stories, or whatever and make a fool out of myself in front of everyone so I argued my point, well, the flocks point, and we won ourselves a fight with a Shang warrior.

Hip-hip-hurray!

Then they all fought about who was going to fight. I could see Fang wanted to, but I did too. Now, let me get this straight, he did not win the discussion about who was going to fight. I was mature – yes that's right, you're shocked, aren't you? – and let him.

So once he had tested his skills, the Shang went off with the Lord Wyldon and all his little sheep to train them. They were so pathetic at fighting; I was having a hard time not laughing out loud at their clumsy attempts to block the weak punches thrown at them.

No joke, I could block those hits blindfolded with wings and hands folded behind my back.

They were spreading rumours about us, of course. Making stuff up about us to hide their jealousy. They were pathetic little dolts.

What am I doing here? I thought to the voice inside my head.

It'll become clear soon, Max came the reply.

Where are you in the palace? I asked. I wanted to find and rat out this person who was invading my mind. They should learn some respect! Gosh, didn't their Ma's teach them anything? It's extremely rude to constantly be – literally – under someone's skin.

All in due time, Max.

I growled my frustration, earning myself startled glances from the Flock. "Nothing," I said. "Voice." I added when I saw their doubtful glances.

"Sure is annoying, what they're saying," Iggy jerked his head towards the pages. We were all sitting down, talking, and playing noughts and crosses in the dirt.

I hoped 'the due time' would come soon. I was getting seriously bored.