"Now that we're in Kuri-Khan, where to next?" I asked. We were sitting in a bar after Tasslehoff had met up with his acquaintances, who had turned out to be a cranky jailor, the broom-swinging owner of a magic store, and a gang of wayward kender.

The most recent of Tas's maps sat on the table innocently, revealing the entire continent of Ansalon. The bar was uncomfortably empty and filled with quiet whispers and furtive glances our way. Most were directed at me and my bizarre clothing. In one corner sat a group of humanoid figures cloaked in beige robes and turbans. On the opposite side of the room sat ogres- big ugly brutes nothing at all like Shrek.

Mounds of leathery hide and fat with large tusks and beady eyes, ogres resembled boars more than anything else. They watched us too. Their black piggy eyes gleaming with interest.

And we were sitting in the middle of them both, in the middle of the bar. The middle was the worst place to be and I knew it.

"There are lots of ogres here because we are near Bloden…" Tasslehoff pointed to a dot on a map near a dot labeled Kuri-Khan. "After we restock here, let's go straight for Sanction. If we go to Zahakar, the mountains will slow us down by a month or two."

"Sounds like a plan," I readily agreed. The tension was so thick no knife could have cut it.

"Come on," Tasslehoff said, placing a steel coin on the cracked, beaten table. I awkwardly followed him. To anyone else, I realized, our companionship was a strange mentor-apprentice relationship. It was mortifying to see the kender strut his stuff up to the counter where the bartender scowled at us.

"I would like a room with a bed and a bathroom," the kender said, on his tiptoes. He was unable to get his forehead above the counter.

"I don't serve kender here," the man sniffed, ignoring us as he scrubbed viciously at the countertop.

Then how did Tas get his wine, I wonder. He sure didn't borrow it. Even when Tasslehoff slapped two steel coins on the counter, the bartender pretended it wasn't there. Tas took out a gaudy, fauceted emerald ring, sitting on a stool. He began to finger it incessantly.

"You know, I got this as a token from my Uncle Trapspringer. It was his second wedding," he began. I hid a smile as I 'wiped' my nose. The bartender's face turned beet red and he finally slammed his hand over the two steel coins and threw a key at Tasslehoff, who ducked. "Take it!" he yelled.

I picked up the key from the grubby floor and ambled to catch up to Tas. "Nice," I complimented after Tasslehoff shut and locked the door of our room.

"He was simple," the modest kender grinned, "I could do much better."

"Why are we spending the night here?" I whispered in hushed tones. "Everyone down there looked like they were going to jump us and pick the flesh off our bones."

"If we spent the night outside, our chances of being killed and robbed are much higher than if we spent the night inside at an inn," Tasslehoff explained, flopping on the bed.

"I guess that's logical," I assessed grudgingly. I was a bit jealous that the kender knew more than me. Maybe my nerves were freaking me out. "Should we take turns with watches? If it really is that dangerous, I mean."

"I don't think that's a bad idea," admitted Tas. "I'll take first watch."

"Fine by me…" a sly smile broke out on my lips. "As long as you don't fall asleep on duty."

The kender was offended. "I would never fall asleep on duty!"

"Prove it."

"I will," Tasslehoff promised, stubbornly crossing his arms and scowling.

The kender was as good as his word. He woke me with a proud smile, whispering frantically, "Hey I did it! I proved I could stay up through watch! Now let's see you try it, greenhorn."

"Alright, you ornery kender," I had yawned, brain dead.

Now I was mostly awake, sitting up, and gazing at the room. Beside me, Tasslehoff muttered in his sleep and his hands searched for fascinating objects that eluded him in his dreams. The cute kender reminded me of a puppy whining in its sleep.

My transmutation hearing allowed me to catch the sound of heavy footsteps outside our door. I caught my breath and lay down in bed, eyes mostly closed. Should I wake Tasslehoff? Or handle this on my own? The decision was made for me as hearing picked up a 'click' of a lock being picked.

The door opened slowly and I held my breath. I had a plan. It was crazy, but it could work…

Don't be a damsel in distress like the ones in the movies! Fight back!

It was an ogre. The bull hunched down and stepped through the doorway. The door shut behind him.

I sat up, rubbing my eyes and the ogre froze. I pretended to spot him and got out of bed. "Takhisis is not pleased with you," I told him, using a trick I'd read from Maximum Ride. I hoped to James Patterson that it worked.

"She will be soon enough," the bull chuckled.

My wings unfurled, the tips grazing against the roof. I lowered my head slightly to shadow my face. "Takhisisss is not pleassed with you, preciouss," I repeated in Golem's whispery voice. "I wass sent to warn you. No, she is not pleasssed, not pleasssed at all."

The ogre tried to act tough as he backed toward the door. I took a step closer, my hands wrapping around the pepper spray in my pockets. I popped off the caps.

"Die you walking trash heap!" I yelled, whipping the mace out like guns. The spray covered his entire squashed face. Howling, the bull clawed at his eyes and ran through the door, knocking it off its hinges. I blew imaginary steam from one of the canisters and pocketed my favorite plaything.

Tasslehoff was out of bed, hoopak ready. "Whaaaa…" the question died on his lips.

Oops.

I'd forgotten to tuck in my wings.

"Um," I lowered my head and nudged the floorboards with my tennis shoes. "Yeah. About my, erm, wings…please don't tell anybody."

"How did you get them? Are you a kyrie?" Tas gasped, stroking my wings.

"What's a kyrie?"

"A religious group of humanoid things with wings," the kender explained, his voice becoming faster. "I didn't know you were a kyrie! I've never met one before, wow!"

"Tas, I'm not a kyrie…I'm just a kid who was in the wrong place at the wrong time." Now I had to think of a sure-fire way to keep Tasslehoff quiet. "If you tell anyone or even drop a hint about my wings or what transgressed tonight, I'll chop off your topknot, stew it, and force-feed it to you. Savvy?"

"No!" Tasslehoff wailed, hands protecting his dear source of pride. "Not my topknot! Okay, okay, I won't tell a single soul anything about tonight or…those."

I tucked my wings back under my windbreaker, satisfied. "Should I continue watch?"

"Sure…angel," Tasslehoff grinned, winking roguishly.

"Go to sleep," I laughed, waving him away.

"Can you fly?"

I shot the kender an irritated look. We were on the road again, heading toward Sanction. I judged it was about eight o'clock by the shadows. The air was crisp, nippy, and cool- perfect flying conditions. "I thought we agreed not to discuss this," I told him with a hint of steel to my voice.

"But I want to know," Tasslehoff complained. "I've never met anyone with wings. I would think that since you have wings that you can fly but I haven't seen you do it yet."

"I haven't done it yet because my wings are weak," I explained. "They're underused."

"Practice," ordered Tas. "Why waste a perfectly good gift? Everyone dreams of flying but they don't have physical wings to do it. Have I told you about the time Fizban and I were in this tower and we had to escape a red dragon? There was a big chain we had to go down but we jumped instead. Fizban tried the spell 'featherfall' like Raistlin –both of them are mages- but all these chicken feathers came out of nowhere and Fizban disappeared. I thought he was dead but he came back later. Weird, huh?"

"Yeah." I remembered reading about that. I had cried for Fizban and later shouted at my book because I had shed my tears for nothing. Funny how that turns out.

"Why don't you start practicing by flapping your wings a lot to build your muscles," suggested Tasslehoff, "and then you can try a running take off. Or maybe I'll find you a cliff! A small cliff, of course, because you don't want to commit suicide."

I frowned. "But in the air there's probably more to it than flailing the wings around. It's a whole 'nother ball of wax in the air. It's not two dimensional; there's a whole other dimension added. I can go up, down, backwards, straight, sideways, slantways, and a whole bunch of other ways."

"For someone who doesn't fly, you sure know a lot about it," Tasslehoff said suspiciously, squinting at me.

"There's a flock of winged kids I read about," I shrugged, referring to Maximum Ride, "and their leader –Max, who is a girl, not a guy as the name leads you to believe- published a trilogy of their lives. They escaped the place that created them called the School and the School's guard dogs, Erasers, have orders to bring them back."

"Wow, that sounds…intense," whistled the kender, twirling his hoopak. "Always on the run from the place that created them…Why are they running away again?"

My response was taking off my backpack, unfurling my wings, and flapping them slowly up and down in a rhythmic manner. Up and down, up and down, almost like breathing.

"Sparkling angel, I couldn't see your dark intention, your feelings for me. Fallen angel, tell me why? What is the reason, the thorn in your eye? I see the angels, I'll lead them to your door. There's no escape now, no mercy, no more, no remorse cause I still remember…the smile when you tore me apart," I sang, "You took my heart, deceived me right from the start. You showed me dreams, I wished they'd turn into real. You broke the promise and made me realize…it was all just a lie…"

My voice faded. "Could have been forever. Now we have reached the end. This world may have failed you, it doesn't give a reason why. You could have chosen a different path…in life."

"That's a sad song," a rough voice spoke up.

My wings tucked in my windbreaker as Tas and I whirled around in sync. An elf wearing baggy beige and dark lime colored clothing, army boots, carrying a sword and the classical bow –and-arrows. He had blond hair and forest green eyes.

And he was hot.

Super model hot.

Although I'm usually oblivious to the cuteness of males, this guy was obviously a stud in the most obvious way, hence the noticing and blushing and sudden timid attack. But I'm always timid around new people- it's called stranger danger.

But I could instantly tell this elf could get any girl he wanted with a stare.

Fortunately I was mostly immune to those types of cooties…and too damn shy to do anything if a guy began flirting with me. Typical reaction: turn red, inability to speak, stare at floor or anywhere but at the guy, fidget, and murmur when he spoke. Yeah, that's me.

I was currently more concerned that he had seen my wings. Would he shoot me, pluck out my feathers, cook me, and serve me for Thanksgiving? Speaking of holidays, what season was it?

Tasslehoff recovered first, bounding toward the elf. "Hello!" he held out his hand for the ranger to shake, and grabbed the elf's hand when he didn't offer it. I smiled as Tas shook it animatedly. "My name is Tasslehoff Burrfoot, but all my friends call me Tas. Who are you? Where are you going? Where did you get this beautiful dagger?"

Impressive. Tas had borrowed a hidden dagger of exquisite value in under a minute.

"Nice to meet your acquaintance, Tas," the elf greeted politely, whisking the dagger away from the kender as it made its way toward his pouch. "My name is Mendelv. I had no particular direction in mind and I received this dagger as a…gift from an ogre merchant."

Hhm, the ogre and elf must've had a deal and the ogre couldn't pay so he offered the dagger. The elf slit his throat with the dagger and considered the deal even. Okay, I was only assuming but that's usually how it works in the movies.

At least this Mendelv was polite. Another chick magnet factor. Curse elven hotness. It was affecting me! Males never affect me! Must. Get. Away. From. Him. Maybe I was just being paranoid again.

"Who is your kyrie companion?"

Frickin A! Bad words! Many bad words!

I returned his question with a polite, distrustful glare. I kept my distance from the ranger. Although he was an elf and had the body of a god, that didn't mean he wasn't capable of treachery, betrayal, or chopping my wings off. I'm a very naive person. You can tell.

"That's Ana. Don't mind her. She isn't very open to strangers, but give her time," Tasslehoff assured the elf. Give me time? Give me an eternity.

There was a long, uncomfortable silence.

Bring out the Care Bears! We're making such good friends, I thought sourly, shouldering my pack and setting off at a fast pace. The faster we got to Sanction, the faster we could get rid of Mendelv, and the faster I could get home.

I avoided Mendelv, even when he was walking beside me, staring. But I didn't ignore him when he spoke to me. I wasn't that rude, but my answers were short and vague. I knew that he knew that I was uncomfortable in his presence and as solitary and shut-off as an oyster. This is how our first conversation went:

"Where are you going, Ana?" Mendelv had asked.

"Sanction."

"Do you have relatives there?"

"No." My tone had been flat.

"Is there any particular reason you are traveling to Sanction?" he had persisted.

I had decided to play mystical yet joking. "The wind whispers to me."

Mendelv hadn't caught the joke about wind and me being a 'kyrie'. "For a kyrie, you're not terribly religious."

"If I were religious, I wouldn't be here, now would I?" Total icy shut down voice.

He had gotten the hint I wanted him to back off. Finally.

Okay, so that was a bit harsh but I don't like prying. If I wanted to let someone know something I'd damn well tell them. Simple as that. But apparently most people relied on speech, not reading body language, tone, or deeper meanings of words.

Maybe I was one of the rare few who did that or toyed around with words and deeper meanings.

I had yet to find someone else who did.

"I'm not going to kill you or hand you over to the minotaurs."

I jumped from my fantasies. Mendelv was holding out a cooked rabbit leg. The griffin and dragon blood must have made me more carnivorous because I took it without grimacing. "What?" I asked, popping out my retainer and pocketing it before tearing into the roasted goods.

Mendelv stared at me like I was an exhibit at the zoo. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"Physically," I corrected around a piece of meat.

"You know what I mean, Ana," the elf scowled.

I didn't respond; too busy gnawing the cleaned bone. "Can I have another please?" I inquired eagerly, dropping the picked bone. Being a mutant was hungry work.

Mendelv didn't say anything as I accepted another cooked leg from him. "Itadakimasu," I thanked in Japanese before eating the second appendage.

"What does that mean?" asked Tasslehoff, munching on a slice of bread.

"Thank you for the meal," I informed them. "It's said before the meal and when I'm done I say 'Gochisoosama' which is thank you for the meal, but after I'm done eating."

"What language is that?" the kender asked.

"Nihonese," I said. I wasn't lying. Japan was 'Nihon' in Japanese.

I heard bushes rustling and rocks shifting the same time Mendelv and Tas did. Enemies or spies were close. We doused the fire, cleaned up, and took off at a quick, tight striding pace.

A/N: I don't own Shrek, Maximum Ride, Lord of the Rings, 'Angels' by Within Temptation, or Care Bears.

Itadakimasu- thank you for the meal (before eating)

Gochisoosama- thank you for the meal (after eating)

Nihon- Japan