[A/N- alright, so no one asks me how the heck Sorcerers throw curses, they do it using their hands as their wands, altering the number of fingers used to the strength and detail they requite in the curse. Think Dragon Ball Z, if you've seen it. I love this chapter. *grins*]

"This is evolution-

The monkey, the man, and then the gun.

If Christ was in Texas-

The hammer, the sickle, the only son.

This is your creation-

The Adam of Eden was a bomb.

If Jack was a Baptist-

We'd drink the wine from his head."

- Marilyn Manson, Cruci- Fiction in Space

Keayalnea felt herself pulled out of the slide, her head slammed into a flat piece of stone. Lucius was flung from her arms, unconscious, in another direction. She pushed herself to her hands and knees, leaning back on her heels. Her head cleared slowly, and she wiped the blood out of her eyes, standing slowly. She looked around carefully. Her head had bashed against a tombstone, neatly cracking it through the center. She shook her head, trying to clear her vision. Where was she?

The curse came out of nowhere.

The Cruciatus curse hit her square in the shoulder, glowing red as Keayalnea roared in pain, heaving fire in the direction the voice. She barely fell backward quick enough to miss the various curses thrown in her direction. Death Eaters. Her smile looked like a carbon copy of her father's, cold and cruel. She jumped up, ripping a hand sideways to bowl over a half dozen of the black- robed fools. It was simply a trap to capture her. She laughed out loud, as she leapt delicately to miss a heavy bolt of the Imperius curse. Intelligent, whoever threw that. She gave her wings a powerful downsweep, to get altitude, then wheeled around to fit the nearest one in the chest with her feet, using her momentum to flip backwards, landing on her toes. She'd conjured her sword to her side, an extension of herself, her wand, in a way, when she was creating magic strong enough to require one. Using it, she blocked a good dozen curses thrown at her in different directions, almost simultaneously. Then, walking in her direction, was a death eater with his own. Strong wizard. She smiled wickedly, she recognized the sword. He'd failed to warn her of this. But maybe he hadn't known.

What a play we are staging, she smiled wickedly, wondering how she'd manage to preserve his hide, without becoming suspicious. Occlumancy would help her none- there was no wizard who could sort through the mind of a Sorceress. They were to complex. She raised her sword up to the ready, challenging him, then swung widely, testingly. He deflected it easily, then jabbed toward her gut, which she flipped over, landing behind him. They paced around each other like angry dogs, swords pushing at the center. Red tinged irises met cold black ones. A game of survival, in more ways than one.

"That cloak will slow you down, Severus," she purred.

"So will your wings."

"You'd be surprised," she smiled, flaring them out and pushing for an angle.

All the sudden, Severus wheeled around and barely caught her blow as it came from above his head. He closed his eyes momentarily, trying to remember how she had trained him. He'd seen Keayalnea and Sinia going through the quick- paced dance of blood- dueling one afternoon, and Keayalnea had noticed his interest. Even though they did not get along well in public, they shared an uneasy friendship, throwing cutting remarks and helping hands whenever necessary. Her voice

filled his memory. "You feel it. You will never have the reflexes to see it." He closed his eyes and swung.

It was, all the sudden, much more fast paced, and she grinned quietly as he pushed through the paces and motions she'd taught him. For being an older, slower wizard, he'd done rather well in the art. She decided to throw him a loop, and conjured her second sword, swinging toward him in a spiral manner. She could see his mental confusion, then a slight shrug as he pulled a second one out of the air as he copied the moves as she was enacting them, the fastest, the only way to learn.

Suddenly, the two were so entangled in each other's swords that there was no way one could move without the other striking. She was so close to him as to feel his breath, to see each drop of sweat. She smiled cruelly. Now was not the time to congratulate him- besides, she still had something to teach him. She mentally bent her swords around his, merging them slightly to hold their grip. They'd vaporize when she let go. She inhaled sharply, causing Snape to raise an eyebrow, flared her  wings open, and downswept- hard. She rolled backwards on the ground, throwing Snape over her on the ground, struggling, not fast enough to let go. She stood quickly and swung him over the tree line, seeing the glowing rainbow of his aura pop out of sight mid- air. She grinned. Let the fun begin.

A few more death eaters advanced on her, and building up a ball of red flame, she hurled the most powerful Cruciatus curse she could at them. A green slice of Avada Kedavra hit her in the wing, singeing a few feathers, she groaned in pain, barely catching the scream out of her throat. A poisonous violet light poured out of her fingertips, and she flung it in the death eater's direction, clasping her fist around the curse as it reached him and swinging her arm toward the nearest group, flinging him screaming in their direction. They scattered, and the death eater swung head first into a large tombstone. Keayalnea loosened her hold as she doubled over in pain from a multitude of curses hitting her in a number of places.

"I. HATE. APPARATING!" she roared as a loud bam rocked the ground, causing a scorch mark for ten feet around where Kea had stood.

***

Kea crashed into the second floor of Grimmauld Place, barely being able to control her landing. Apparation was not done regularly by Sorcery for a good reason. She landed face first, splintering the wood floor as she fell, one bad splinter barely missing her eye. She bit her knuckles until blood flowed, trying to stem herself from screaming, her eyes clenched to ward tears. Her breath was ragged and forced. As she faded from consciousness, Mrs. Black raged at her from her portrait.

"FILTH! FILTH! FOULING THE HOUSE OF MY FATHERS WITH YOUR PUTRID STENCH AND FOUL BLOOD! GO BACK TO THE STABLES AND BEAR PROGENY FOR THOSE FIT TO RAISE THEM, YOU AMBITIOUS, WORTHLESS WHORE! GO BACK WHERE YOU AND YOUR KIND SHOULD BE, NOT IN MY ANCESTOR'S HOUSE STEALING THE HONOR OF MY SONS! GO BACK WHERE YOU CAME FROM! GO BACK, YOU BITCH IN HEAT, TO YOUR MASTER WHERE YOU BELONG! LOWER THAN DIRT, VILER THAN SHIT, DIRTY THE HOUSE OF MY FATHERS NO MORE! NO MORE! SCUM! VILE BLOOD! FILTH!"