Star's Journey: The Night Watch

by Freida Right

-part III of V- Star and her friends have found a new purpose with the Zebak rebellion. They now call themselves the Crusaders, and use their talents to do good deeds for the people of Habaharan. But when an old friend appears on enemy shores and Zizi is captured, it will take nothing less than a new adventure and the help of a pirate to rescue them...

10. Chapter 9: In the Slums

So, I published the last chapter before I had a chance to run it by my brother. And the so-called "cries of despair" may have broken him just a little bit. I take solace and a little pride in this, because it means he has an enormous heart, rather like Zizi's. He told me firmly not to do that again, and I had to disappoint him. There will be more "cries of despair" in this chapter. There will also be crime fighting, because no one cries in despair on Zizi's watch.

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Chapter 9: In the Slums

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As the Crusaders ran and ran, the sounds of battle faded into the distance. They never stopped once to glance behind them, to see if they were being pursued. All they did was run frantically through the wet, cold streets, praying that if someone was behind them, they had been lost.

Zizi was still clinging in fright to Star, and still shaking pitifully in her arms. She hoped that it was now more from the cold than from what had happened in the dungeon, but she doubted it. She also wished that someone had thought to shove a few spare cloaks into Zan's satchel. Iris and Zizi had both been soaked within short minutes by the drizzle, and had no protection from the weather. Zizi had worn a jacket to Bhlai House and had certainly left with it, and Iris had probably been wearing a bright green Maris cloak when she had arrived in the city. These must have been taken from them when they were brought to the dungeon, never to be seen again.

Star thought dimly of all this as she ran, trying to think of anything else but her aching legs and racing heart. It seemed like they had been running aimlessly for a long time, and the buildings around them still looked the same.

"Turn here," Zizi suddenly whispered in her ear. "You gotta—you should turn here."

Star skidded to a halt, prompting her friends to do the same.

"Zizi says to turn here," she repeated, nodding at a nearby alleyway that was barely visible in the dark. The party ducked into it and hurried through to the other side, then stopped to listen for a moment.

There was no sound behind them. Indeed, the only sound was the soft pattering of the rain, and their own heavy breathing.

"We seem to be alone for the moment," Forley panted, leaning against the wall and releasing Iris for a moment. "I still can't believe we did it. It's a rather large wonder."

"Agreed," Zan said flatly, looking around. "And we seem to be nearing our next destination."

Star looked around to see that the streets had changed suddenly from the ones they had just come from. Perhaps the houses around them had become more and more worn as they had run in the dark, because the place they were now seemed to be in shambles. The buildings were all dilapidated, some of them leaning dangerously to one side, most of them having threadbare cloth in place of doors and windows. Cobbled together shacks and tents littered the street and sidewalk, and smoldering fires burned in barrels here and there. A few ragged people shuffled around these fires, trying uselessly to warm themselves or cook food. The smell of ash and garbage was suddenly heavy in the air.

The only of them who was particularly pleased was Zizi. He hopped down to stand on his own feet, and nodded his head.

"We're home," he said plainly. "This is—it's the slums, alright."

"So it is," Forley said slowly, pulling Iris under his cloak to shield her from the rain—and from sight. "We need to be away from here as quick as we can. This isn't a healthy place for us to be."

Star paused for a split second, startled by Forley's words. She was overtaken again by that feeling of familiarity, of having already done all of this before. She could have sworn she had heard him say those very words before once, right here in the worst part of the city, while running in fear from angry guards.

But there was still no time to puzzle over it now. She agreed that they needed to find their way into the sewers as fast as they could, before anyone really noticed them. Willing the feeling from her mind, she knelt beside Zizi and held his hand firmly in her own.

"You know what to do," she told him. "Take us to the manhole, like we talked about before. Is it nearby?"

Zizi looked a little nervous. "No. It's a walk—a long walk. Blocks and blocks."

"But you do know the way, right?"

"…Yes."

"Then we will walk the blocks and blocks, if you lead us. It will be alright, Zizi, I promise."

"And Vivi's gonna—my big sis is there?"

"Yes, just waiting for you. Let's hurry to get you back together, where you belong."

This seemed to give the boy some confidence, because he took a deep breath and squared his shoulders bravely. Without another word he pulled Star forward down the street, and the others fell in line behind them.

Zizi had lived here all his life. Star had no doubt that he knew exactly where he was going, even in the dark of night. So she let him lead her in silence, and wracked her brain over this increasing feeling of familiarity. It was growing and growing, the further they walked into the slums.

But that is impossible, she told herself. I've never been in this part of the city before. I can barely even see it, which I will choose to be grateful for. And what of Forley's words just now? I know I've heard them before, not terribly long ago. Oh, where was it? What were we doing? And why does it suddenly mean so much to me? It's right on the tip of my tongue, but I can't quite think of it…

Her train of thought was interrupted by a piercing scream from up ahead. The few people around the fires all looked up in fear an alarm and then scurried out of sight like shades. The Crusaders did the same and scurried together around a corner, trying to guess where the sound had come from. A moment passed, and then they heard more unpleasant noises—terrified shouting, a baby wailing in distress, and harsh voices laughing cruelly.

Star, Forley, and Zan dared to peek around the corner and immediately saw an awful sight. A small family had been hauled out of one of the crumbling buildings, and a few men were towering over them, sneering at them while they huddled in fear beneath them. Zan hissed in anger and looked away.

"Those men are guards," he growled. "They're in plain clothes, but I would know them anywhere. No one else could carry themselves like that."

"What are they doing here?" Star asked furiously.

"Likely, they got bored and went looking for someone innocent to terrorize."

Zizi gazed up at him, red eyes wide. "So you're gonna—what are you gonna do?"

The Crusaders looked between each other doubtfully. Star felt her heart tearing at itself as she and the rest of them shook their heads.

"We must wait here until the danger has passed," Forley said decisively. "We can't risk being seen here like this."

He was trying to sound firm about this; but it was plain that he despised it as much as his friends did. On any other night, they would have done what they all wanted to do and rush to the aid of those people. But they had precious company tonight, and a mission to complete. The choice between duties was unbearable, but Star did her best to accept that this was what needed to happen this time.

Zizi, however, stomped around to face them, his small face absolutely thunderous. All at once, he looked exactly like his sister.

"No," he snapped, planting his fists on his hips.

Star looked down at him imploringly. "Zizi, no, we can't—"

"But you have to!" he whispered fiercely. "You're the Crusaders! You always do the—you always help people in—when they're in trouble! And you left the people in the—you left them behind!"

They had never seen Zizi particularly angry before, and so were completely surprised by it now. It only seemed to make his stammering worse, his mind nearly too filled with feelings to put words together. His eyes were flashing as he babbled on, and tears were running with the rain down his face.

"You have to help them," he demanded, pointing back toward the terrified family in the street. "Cause you're the Crusaders and—you have to help them! If you don't help—you leave them behind and I'll—I'll never—I won't speak to you again ever—never ever again!"

Star was deeply moved by his passion, and even by his threat. In the midst of all this chaos and the strong need to help these people, it also seemed a pity to have rescued him from certain death only to lose his friendship. There was no doubt in her mind that he would make good on his promise, for he was just as stubborn as Vivi, in his own ways. She glanced between her friends and saw many of her own thoughts on their faces.

Iris wrinkled her nose and hunched her shoulders. "We ought to take that risk," she grumbled. "You said yourself, Forley, we cannot be seen now. And if we never hear another word out of him, so much the better, I say."

Forley pinned her with a dark look. That appeared to have made up his mind once and for all. He took Zizi by his shoulders and steered him over to stand beside Iris, then took his moonstone from his pocket.

"Stay with her," he told the boy. "Keep her out of trouble, if you can."

It had taken entirely too long, but the Crusaders finally stood together and made a plan of their own.

"There isn't time to get these people underground as usual, so our aim is to create enough of a distraction that they can escape safely." Forley decided. "Zan will go first with his ruby. We need some light, anyway. There may be more men in the house, so let's be prepared for more enemies to deal with. Zan, hand Star your sword; she will be our forward defense, should the guards charge us. Star, attack to disarm only—we are freedom fighters, not murderers like them. As soon as the guards are dealt with and the people get away, we need to go, ourselves. We strike hard and fast, then run. That is all. Are we together?"

"We are," Zan agreed, "but I can't help pointing out that this was not at all part of the original plan."

Star couldn't help a grin. "The prophecy," she said. "It did tell us to forget the straight and narrow path, after all. You thought it meant that we should be flexible if there was trouble, but perhaps this was what it meant all along. Besides, how much more trouble could we be in right now?"

"Then we are on the right course," Forley said firmly. "This must be what we were meant to do. Now let's do this, and save these people."

And so the three of them stepped around the corner with their hoods pulled over their faces and weapons in their hands, more than ready for the work they had grown to love. In the street, another guard had joined the others, triumphantly waving around a bag of things he had taken from the house. The people cowering beneath them were despairing, begging to have their few belongings back, only to be answered with jeers and more cruel laughter.

It made Star's blood boil to think that she and her friends had almost allowed this to go unpunished.

"Hey, guards," Zan barked at them. The men all looked up in surprise, not expecting the blast of flame that met them before they could react. Plumes of fire suddenly surrounded them, and they exclaimed in anger. The small bag of things was dropped on the ground, and Star held up her borrowed sword to cleave her way through the fire to reach it.

She had her eye set on her goal, and was already too hot to notice the heat of the fire around her. The guards were not prepared for any of this, and only one of them had the presence of mind to try to attack her. She swung the sword up to block that rather clumsy blow, and snatched the bag for herself. She had darted back out of the ring of fire in a flash, and tossed the bag into the hands of the astonished family, still sitting in the street, too astonished to move.

"Run!" she commanded. "Get up! Get out of here! We'll hold them off!"

They were finally moved to action by her voice, and jumped to their feet. The father gripped the bag in one hand while dragging a small boy behind him. The mother followed with her wailing baby in one arm, and a very little girl in the other. The five of them vanished into the rainy shadows, leaving no trace behind them.

And so that part was done. Star turned and raised her sword once again, as one of the guards slashed his way out of the fire with the look of a mad person.

"Crusaders," the man snarled, reaching for his whip and uncurling it with a savage snap. "I remember you from last time! By all the Dragon Lords, you won't escape me again!"

Star would have liked to sass him, but had no time. She barely dodged the first lash of his whip, and hissed in pain as the second strike met her arm with full force. If she had been her old self, the sting would have shocked her so badly she might have dropped her sword. But she had been training for months, just for moments like this, and was stronger than she had ever been before. She kept the sword steady, and raised it to block the next attack. The whip wrapped itself around the blade, only to be severed on the sharp edge.

Somewhere behind her, Forley had added a gust of wind to the flame, spreading it in any direction he wished. One of those plumes shot out and stung Star's attacker in the back, and the man roared in anger and pain. He spun around and pulled out a short sword, hacking uselessly at the fire as it chased after him.

"End this," he shouted at his companions. "Hack these traitors to pieces if you must!"

Before he had quite finished speaking, a terrible new noise echoed down the street. It was like the snarling of a fierce, savage beast, roaring in angry hunger. The way it echoed, it seemed that it could be coming from anywhere.

The snarling came again, louder this time. The guards all froze, and suddenly began to back away.

"One of those creatures," one of the guards muttered. "I told you we should have just stayed in East Side!"

"Leave it, then," said the first guard, grinning darkly as he retreated. "Let's see how our valiant friends here fare against the beast."

The other two turned and followed him right away into the darkness, laughing to themselves. The three Crusaders had no idea what they were talking about, but ominous snarling and talk of beasts made them whirl around, searching desperately for something horrible, expecting it to come creeping out of the shadows at any second.

Instead, all the crept out of the shadows was Zizi, who looked extremely pleased with himself. Iris slunk out behind him, with an old clay jug in one hand.

"It's alright," Zizi said brightly. "Its just a—it was a trick! We all do the—we have to, sometimes."

Star, Forley, and Zan all stared down at him in wonder, and then at Iris and her jug. She shrugged at it and then tossed it aside in distaste.

"He shoved it into my hands and told me to scream into it," she explained. "I did not want to, but he made me do it. He said he would kick me if I did not."

Zizi grinned proudly. "We pretend that—well, we made it up. That there's monsters here—hiding in the slums. The guards all know it. It scares them good—real good, you see? They had some once—big, horrible green things that—they all got out once. But some were never found, I think. So, we act like we've still—like the monsters are still right here. It keeps the guards away. Pretty sneaky, huh?"

Zan shifted his eyes around nervously. "But it's not true… Right?"

"Oh, no, it's all—it's just sneaky. Honest, it is. It always works," Zizi explained with a shrug.

Star bent down to pat him on the head. "You people are just full of surprises, aren't you?"

"Sometimes," he answered. "the guards are just dumb. Real dumb, huh?"

"Then perhaps we can continue in this way for a while," Forley said, almost happily. "Zizi is right. No matter how pressing the old mission was, we can't just leave people in trouble behind us."

"I agree," Zan added, cheerful for once. "The dungeon mission was my brother's plan; but he left the rest of it up to us. It is indeed time to forget the straight and narrow path. From now on, we stop to help anyone who comes into our way."

Star hummed over this, battling another wave of unexplainable memory. "The family that escaped will probably go around telling everyone they meet that the famous Crusaders are here. Many people will know of it soon, and any stray guards nearby will know it, too. We should brace ourselves for a lot more excitement, then."

Iris scoffed in disbelief. "What about me?" she demanded. "I did not ask for any of this! I only came to this wretched place to try and rescue you—and now I am the one being hauled around and rescued. You do not even care what happens to me!"

Forley pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed wearily. "Iris, if you could just keep your voice down as we keep telling you to, half of our problems so far could have been avoided entirely. Vivi could have helped you escape before you even reached the dungeon; Zizi would not have been captured; we all could have been back at Bhlai House right now, celebrating your safe arrival. Even now you're standing here, yelling about everything where anyone could hear it. Have you learned nothing from tonight? Have you no sense at all?"

Iris shrank back from him a bit, shocked at his impatience. "These people have changed you terribly," she commented coldly.

"No, I have changed myself. I've had to. I am not as eager as you are to be caught and killed."

The two of them glared at each other for a long moment. Unsettled, Zizi crept back to Star's side and gripped the hem of her coat for comfort. Star marveled at her cousin in the tense silence. She hadn't noticed, herself, just how different he was now. Forley still had his humor and his sharp wit, but he was no longer the rash, careless, self-absorbed young man Iris remembered so well. He had become cautious and wise and strong in all the ways that mattered. His time in Habaharan had required it from the very first day, and it had changed him for the better.

What a pity that Iris only found it suspicious and disappointing, just because it wasn't how she had expected to find him. She had counted on finding him hiding in fear, perhaps dismal and broken inside from pain and grief, and in desperate need of her help. She had fancied herself to be a brave hero, coming to her friend's aid. Their roles had been reversed in the end, and Star had to admit that she would have been a bit disappointed, too. But she couldn't imagine herself behaving this way, when there were open ears and watching eyes and terrible danger around every corner. Iris couldn't even be bothered to keep her voice below a yell.

She supposed Forley must have been disappointed, too.

"You can come with us and try to be of use, at the very least keep out of our way," he said tightly, "or you can stay here in the slums. Whatever you choose, we are going, and we are going to do things our way."

Forley turned away from her and held out his hand to Zizi. The little boy took it and led him on down the street without a word, no doubt glad to be on their way again. Zan filed after them, glancing over his shoulder when Star hung back with Iris.

"I've spent my life being ordered about, and I won't take up that habit now," he said quietly. "We can't force her to do anything she doesn't want to."

Star looked between the two of them, and then held her hand out to Iris.

"Iris, come on," she pleaded. "It's not all as bad as it seems, I promise. Won't you trust us?"

The girl stared back coldly for a second before finally taking Star's hand, and letting her lead her away.

"I do not see why these ragged creatures should matter so much to you," she muttered. "They are only Zebak—our hated enemies for as long as there has been time. They are not your people."

Star bowed her head a bit, wounded by those words. "But they are, in more ways than one. I care for them very much."

Iris looked up at her in surprise. "But you are nothing like they are. You do not seem changed by their ways, as Forley does."

"Forley has learned a little sense in the last several months, but he is hardly changed. Besides, we've disguised ourselves, and must pretend to be like the common folk around us. Otherwise, we would be noticed and captured at once."

"…Common folk? I thought all Zebak were warriors, bred for mindless destruction. It is what we have always known."

"We were wrong, Iris. Completely wrong. We never even knew the half of it until now."

After that, Iris was quiet for a long time. That suited Star perfectly fine, because the feeling of retracing her steps had returned and was nearly overwhelming now. She was almost positive that she had walked this way before, with these very people, on a similar mission. Another commotion nearby drove the thought from her mind; she had never been so glad for a disturbance before.

Down a street on their right, a fire barrel had been toppled over in the chaos of what looked at first like a brawl. Only when they stopped to look and listen did they realize what it really was. Several large, gruff, but filthy people had ganged up on a smaller man and backed him into a corner. It appeared that they planned to beat and rob him for whatever he had in his pockets.

The Crusaders ducked back behind the corner and put their heads together briefly to form a plan. Zizi popped his head into the tight circle to listen, and Iris hovered behind them out of the way.

"Just a bit of light to startle them," Zan suggested. "These aren't guards. They can be dealt with easily. And Star still has my sword, so she should be our forward defense again."

"Hopefully they will just be startled by your magic and run away," Star added, rubbing her arm and wincing. "I'd rather not have to battle again, but I can and I will, if I must."

"Once they've gone, we will check in on their victim and make sure he is alright," Forley finished. "If they've hurt him, I can probably fix him in a minute or two. Another sound plan, friends. Let's get to it."

Leaving a quick warning to Zizi and Iris to stay put, the three of them ran down the street together. Not bothering to warn the villains this time, Zan sent a ball of fire hurtling after them. His aim was perfect, too—it collided into the toppled barrel with such force that the bottom of it was blow out, sending fire shooting out of it like a cannon. The black metal turned red and orange, illuminating every sagging building and sad tent on the street. The three large people were far from the only ones shouting in alarm or running to escape the inferno. But they quickly turned and ran back the way they had come.

There was fearful murmuring about guards all around them, which changed at once to sighs of relief once the people saw who had really caused the explosion. Others were creeping out of hiding to tend to the cornered man, who had sunk to the ground and was cradling his arm against his chest. He looked to be in a deal of pain, but he also seemed relieved to see the unmistakable Crusaders running up to him.

"Fine night to be out and about," someone commented. "Thank goodness you were here tonight, of all nights! The Khibel Gang is always up to no good."

"A gang, is it?" Zan asked the person. "They give you trouble often?"

"Oh, always. There's ten of them, easily. They take what they want, and they want what they take. If there's a warm body to throw around in the process, it's all in good fun to them. No one is safe with them around."

"Sif here would have only been the first of many injured and robbed," added another. "You young people have done us a wonderful favor. Thank you so much!"

As the people gathered around to give their thanks and shake hands with their saviors, Star felt her heart warming and filling to bursting. It reminded her of the adventure she and her friends had shared in Old Rin over the summer. The Zebak slaves in the compound had been overjoyed to see a little justice done that day, and beyond delighted to learn of a simple way to escape the place.

Meanwhile, Forley had followed some people who had helped Sif stumble under the shelter of an old crate. Star wandered over to see, and to be at hand if her cousin needed help. The man had squeezed his eyes shut and was hissing pain as Forley pulled his sleeve up.

"It appears that your arm is broken," Forley said, shaking his head sadly. "But the break seems clean enough. That black eye is impressive, too. All this can be dealt with in little time. If there's any water around here, for pity's sake, bring it to him. He's had a busy night. Hold still, man; this will sting a little."

In the months since finding the moonstone magicite, Forley had insisted specifically on learning how to use it for healing. His first attempt had been on a broken bone much like Sif's arm, though it had been far from perfect. All this time later, his skills had improved so that this broken bone was mended and whole in only a minute or two. The black eye vanished under the moonstone's soft glow in short seconds. Healed and in much less pain, Sif sighed deeply and relaxed.

"Thank you for that," he rasped. "Broken bones can mean death out here, you know."

"I can imagine," Forley agreed. "I've done my part here, and now you must do yours. Don't put any strain on that for the next several hours; the magic is like glue, which needs a little time to dry and harden before the fix is perfect. I'd recommend a day's rest, if you can manage it. Take some time to sit by the fire my friend has cause for you, and by all means drink plenty of water. After that, you'll be right as rain."

It was funny how he could be such a passionate baker by day, and just as passionate a healer by night. Star couldn't wait to tell Thora all about what had just happened. The woman would be so proud.

The two of them rose and left Sif to be looked after by his neighbors, and found Zan still talking to some people about the Khibel Gang. He was shaking their hands again, promising to return soon and put an end to that trouble; and though they hadn't been a part of that discussion, Star and Forley agreed that they would be back soon enough.

"This gang is monstrous," Zan complained as they went on their way. "They go about by night, terrorizing, stealing, setting fire to things, and occasionally there is a death at their hands. They behave as though they were guards—merciless and cruel, reveling in the pain they cause. They have to be stopped before someone else is hurt… Or killed."

Star placed her hand on his shoulder, hoping to calm him. He was burning inside over this, feeling guilty for never coming so far this way and never hearing of this before. She could guess what Zan was thinking. That if only he had known, he could have been there. He could have done something long ago. Lives had been lost because of these people, who weren't even of Central Control, and he was too late to help them.

What a good and large heart you have, Zan, she thought. It is so full for your people. You care so deeply for them and their troubles, when you have so many, yourself. And that you could make so much room there for me alone… No wonder it hurts you so.

She hadn't admired someone so much in a long time. Realizing the real extent of his courage and love moved her in what felt like a thousand different ways she had never felt before. It was as though her own heart was breaking, only to be filled to overflowing once again.

And that, she suddenly realized, was all part of how love begins.

After that, they walked a way in relative silence. The only noises were the ever-pattering rain and normal sounds of a street at night: dogs barking, woken babies crying, people chatting long into the wee hours of the morning. It wasn't long before Zizi picked up his pace a little, bouncing a little with excitement.

"We're almost—it's right over here," he said. "Around that corner over there and—the manhole is right there in the—you can't miss it. We're gonna—we'll get out of the—no more rain! We'll get all dry and—I can't wait!"

No wonder he was so excited. He was dripping wet and his teeth couldn't stop chattering. Iris looked about the same by now, though of course she hadn't complained once of being wet. It was only a light drizzle, compared to the downpour earlier in the evening; but somehow it was just enough to have a person soaking wet in minutes.

A final distraction halted them as movement and flashing firelight came from one of the sagging buildings beside them. There was crashing and angry shouting, and a young woman's voice begging for mercy inside. It wasn't normally the Crusader's way to barge into private homes and come between families, but it sounded serious; and for all they knew, one of the guards from before had invaded this house to attack the people inside.

"I'll kick the door down," Zan decided right away. "It's barely hanging onto the hinges, so it won't be a great feat. Hopefully the noise will be enough to surprise the attacker, and we can have the whole thing dealt with quickly. After that, we'll just be ready for whatever happens."

"I'm ready," Star agreed, hoisting the sword into a defensive position.

Forley nodded and shook the moonstone back into place in his palm. "Let's do it."

As Zan had guessed, the door all but flew back under his foot and slammed into the wall inside with a sound like thunder. The one room was brightened by candle, knocked over on the dirty floor. In the dancing shadows stood a terrified girl only a little older than Star, and a much larger man who had her by the wrist. His fist was raised over her, looking like he had been about to punch her in the face. All that was abandoned as the Crusaders charged in, both parties shocked to see each other like this.

"What the blazes is all this?" Zan demanded, furious at the sight of them.

The big man snarled and threw the girl to the floor, taking a dagger from his belt and slashing wildly at them.

"Get out of my house," he snapped, crossing the room in a single stride.

"No. Answer me," Zan snapped back, holding up his ruby in warning.

Instead of answering, the man raised his fist and knocked Zan aside with one blow, sending him toppling to the floor. He pushed Forley down with similar ease and then lunged at Star. She nearly had the sword up in time, but was too slow. Before she quite knew what had happened, he had wrenched the sword from her hand and thrown it away; he was so much stronger than she was, there was no way she could have stood against him. He grabbed her by the collar and she struggled to escape, hearing and feeling her dress ripping at its seams beneath her coat.

Next thing she knew, her arm was behind her back, and a dagger was pressed to her throat. The man was growling in triumph, his breath hot and sour against her face. She couldn't believe that they had outsmarted guards and gangs all night, only to be overpowered by a ragged man from the slums.

They had mad the same mistake Central Control often made, by underestimating the lowest and most unlikely people in the city. And now they were in more danger than ever. Just like Central Control.

"No one move," the man commanded. "Not so much as a twitch, or the dove here gets it. Turn out your pockets, thief. Let's see what you've got there. Maybe if I like it enough, I'll let you go."

Star doubted this greatly, but she shoved her free hand desperately into her coat pocket. She had brought so little with her. She felt a forgotten handkerchief, the wrapper from a cake, and something else…

It was the two vials of drugged surasha. They had been unneeded in the dungeon, and so she had forgotten all about them. An idea came to mind immediately, and she pulled the handful of things out of her pocket. The man dropped the dagger, snatched them out of her hand, and then pushed her down with her friends.

"What's all this rubbish?" he grumbled, looking the items over. He picked out one of the vials and shook it, trying to guess what the liquid inside might be.

"It's a potion," Star babbled back, trying to sound as pathetic as possible. "They said it would give the drinker great strength."

Seeing her brilliant idea, Forley nodded his head. "We need it for our little sister," he added. "Give it back! Please! She will die without it!"

But, as Star had hoped, the man had stopped paying attention. He had already uncorked the vial and drained it before Forley had finished speaking. He blinked once, as if in a daze, and then crumpled to the floor in front of them.

Behind them, the other girl gasped in horror.

"My father!" she cried. "You killed him!"

"No, he isn't dead," Star answered evenly, back to her normal self. "We only tricked him into drugging himself. He will come around in an hour or two."

The girl crawled over and reached out to touch her father's brow, hesitating in spite of her concern. Satisfied that he was still alive, she sat back and pushed her hair tiredly out of her face.

"It didn't used to be like this," she commented quietly, rubbing her arm. "But after mama died…" She sighed wearily and shook her head. "I know I should leave. I should have left long ago. But where would I go? What would I do? He would find me again, and things would only be worse after that."

"What have you done to deserve this?" Forley asked, coming over to look at a bruise on the girl's shoulder. She had several, some of them fresher than others, and some in places that couldn't be covered. She brushed his hand away without meeting his eyes.

"He worries that I will leave, too, when I come of age this spring," she answered, as if it excused everything. "He just wants to keep me close, that's all. After mama died, it's all he thinks of. Still…"

It was a terrible situation that seemed to have no simple solution. Star had another idea, and took her by the hand.

"There's a manhole down the street from here. Do you know of it?"

The girl gave her a curious look. "Yes, of course I do. Why?"

"Do you know about the sewers beneath the city?"

"…Yes…"

"We are on our way there right now. It is like a whole city beneath the city. You could disappear there. Make a new life for yourself there."

The girl's pale green eyes grew wide with wild hope. "It's true? I had heard of it, but I thought it was only an urban legend."

Forley chuckled and put his arm carefully around her shoulders. "Oh, it's true, alright. And it appears that you have a moment or two to make a daring escape."

"Yes," Zan agreed. "Come with us. Leave this life behind, and start over. Maybe one day, when you've made something of yourself, you can come back and bring your father with you. Perhaps he will have learned better from all this by then."

The girl climbed resolutely to her feet and brushed her torn dress back into place. She squared her shoulders resolutely and took a deep breath, looking more and more alive, and held out her hand.

"My name is Brenna," she said, shaking their hands in turn.

"Call us Mahna, Brahna, and Zan," Forley answered with a smile. "You can mention our names to anyone down there and have the whole place handed over to you. You'll find your way there in good time."

She nodded in appreciation. "Thank you. Give me half a moment to get a few things, and I will join you." She glanced toward the door, where Iris and Zizi were peeking nervously inside, and then added. "Your friends can come in out of the rain until then. I'll be right back. Please, help yourself to anything you see. It seems I won't be needing any of it now."

With that, Brenna darted into a different room. Once she was out of sight, Zizi and Iris slunk inside, and Zizi shook his dripping hair, sending a small shower flying around the room.

"That was scary," he squeaked, burying his face in Star's skirt. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she answered, giving him a reassuring hug. She pulled her coat open to look at her dress and sighed sadly. The hem of the sleeve had been torn out, and part of the bodice had ripped away with it. The lacey collar had ripped, too, revealing the gold chain that held the Earth Sigil underneath.

"Leah and Ofelia won't like seeing that," she commented. "They worked so hard on it, too…"

Zan and Forley gathered around and hugged her. She was pretending to not care, but they knew she had been just as shaken as they had been.

"Better your dress than your neck," Forley told her. "The dress can be replaced. You cannot."

"Let's just be glad that he never noticed the sigil," Zan added. "It would have been disastrous for all of us."

Iris tipped her head to one side. "You have the sigil?"

Star shrugged. "It's a long story. We'll explain it with everything else, once we get where we're going."

Iris huffed and crossed her arms. "If we ever do get where we are going… At least the rain is somewhat refreshing. I had not realized until we were in it how badly I needed a proper soak. If I had gone much longer without it, I might have perished."

The rest of them hummed thoughtfully over this. But Star stamped her foot, beyond aggravated.

"I have to say it now," she said angrily. "Something about tonight has just been so familiar. It's nagged at me ever since we left Bhlai House, and I haven't been able to put words to it. I could swear we've done this before, down to specific words and actions. It's driving me crazy!"

Forley chuckled again and teasingly punched her arm. "Oh, let's see," he said, counting on his fingers. "We have a child of Rin, a silly man who is part Traveler, a Zebak warrior, and a misplaced Maris, wandering around the most dangerous parts of Habaharan, rescuing people from certain danger. Also there is a small child in need of rescuing. And it all began with a rather important party. Come now, Star, of course it is familiar to you. Why, you've written nearly the exact same story before!"

Star felt her heart stop. Her jaw dropped, and her mind reeled. It couldn't be…

Zan pressed his hand to his own head, just as startled as she was. "The fourth tale. Have we really just been repeating it the whole time without knowing it?"

"No…" Iris mumbled, dumbfounded. "You have got to be joking!"

Forley laughed and pulled them all together under his arms again. "Well, there are differences, certainly; but it is all very much the same, now isn't it? I must confess, I had thought of it a while ago and wondered at it, myself. I was surprised that you never mentioned it before, Star. I thought that you of all people would have noticed it right away, if I had thought of it so quickly."

Star glanced down at her trembling hands, and the words of her prophecy came back to her:

Fire, Water, Earth, and Air:

The Hand of Fate, complete and fair.

"We are the Hand of Fate all over again," she commented, holding up her hand and spreading her fingers wide. "Fire, Water, Earth, and Air—and a fifth to guide and unite them. In the story, it was Zeel, Perlain, Rowan, and Allun, setting aside their differences and working together. And now it is us—Zan, Iris, Star, and Forley, doing the very same thing."

"And they were able to do it because, in spite of their many differences and problems, they all had a friend in common," Forley added, putting a hand on her shoulder. "That was your father. The short but sturdy little thumb, holding them all together, just as you are doing now. I say, even the fingers seem to match up."

"But they had a Titan as the pointer finger," Zan recalled, rubbing his chin. "Who is guiding us now?"

Star looked down at Zizi, who was listening in awe and wonder, and now looking puzzled at Star's marveling face.

"I think Zizi is our pointer finger," she said quietly, patting his damp hair. "If it weren't for him, we never would have stopped to help so many people tonight. Those guards would have robbed and beaten the first family we met. Sif might have been killed by the Khibel Gang, and we never would have known of it. And Brenna would have remained here with her father to suffer in silence. We were meant to save these people; but we were afraid and in a hurry, and nearly missed it. If Zizi had insisted on it—pointed us in the right direction—we would have run right by all of them."

Zizi beamed at her wordlessly, swelling with pride. The rest of them were just too humbled to speak. Even Iris was silent, and looking a bit ashamed of herself.

Brenna returned just then, with a small bundle of her few possessions in one hand and a threadbare cloak over her arm. She stopped short to see who had joined her rescuers, and her eyes grew wide again.

"Their faces," she said, glancing between Iris and Zizi. "His face isn't… And what is wrong with her? Is she ill? She looks as pale as death!"

Of course she had never seen a Maris before. Iris began to blush and ducked her head self-consciously. She looked more than ever like she wanted to disappear.

"Yes, that," Forley said slowly, walking over to take her arm gently. "We would appreciate it if you didn't mention it when we get down there. It's a dreadful secret, and we need it to stay that way. May I ask one thing of you, miss?"

"Oh, anything. You've saved my life and more."

"Let us have that cloak of yours, please? Our friend here will need it more than you, where we're going."

Brenna handed the cloak to him without asking anymore questions. He took it with a grateful smile, and then handed it to Iris.

"Put it on right away," he told her. "We can't afford for another soul to see you."

Iris took the cloak and threw it on, pulling the hood down over her face, also without asking questions. She didn't need to. She didn't want to be seen again, either.

"Is that everything, then?" Zan asked impatiently. "We've hung around here too long already, and the manhole is right down the street. Also, we have people waiting on us. We need to go."

Brenna spared one last look at her father, wincing only once as she followed them out the door and into the beginnings of a new life. Star understood what she was feeling very well. She, too, had walked away from her father and into an adventure while he hadn't been there to stop her. And for all she knew, Brenna's father had been a kind and caring man once upon a time, torn and twisted by all that had happened to him since then. Brenna clearly still loved her father, and hated having to leave him like this; but she knew that she had no choice. She would never have another chance to do what she knew she must.

Well, I know that I will see my father again, somehow, Star told herself. Perhaps Brenna and her father will meet again, too.

As before, Zizi took Star by the hand and pulled her down the street, where the next step of their journey was waiting for them.

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Afterthoughts…

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Once again, I have not run this chapter by my brother before publishing. But this one was by far more intense than the last one, and darker and more violent than anything that's happened to Star so far. I also imagine that the violence in the slums is a lot worse in general than what they've seen tonight, but I'll spare you and not delve too deeply into that. You're all smart and probably grown people. Use your imaginations, if you dare. :/

I have this thing about them repeating the premise of Rowan and the Zebak in my notes from about a year ago. (If you're new around here, pop by the Post-Deltora Stress Syndrome forum and scroll through the "Respawns of Adin" thread to learn more about where this is coming from.) It's full of foreshadowing which you may or may not have caught onto by now, and I'm not going to spoil it for you. Not when I've kept it so close to the vest for so long. ;D

And yes, the monsters that got loose that one time were, in fact, Vraal. And yes, you should, in fact, be creeped out by that. You're welcome.