Caravan
(In Which A Trade Is Made And Regret Has A Heyday)

A/N: So… yeah. You people hate me now. *trollface* I enjoyed that. Thanks again to Maru-chan (yes like the ramen) for the fantabulous fanart! Emma, say thank you.
Emma: Can't. Too busy using Pokémon to take over the world.
I should never have gotten you Pokémon Conquest…
Emma: But it's so fun! And I can finally use them to do evil things instead of good things and shove my will down the throats of those who dare oppose me and my army!
… You're a dictator.
Emma: An adorable dictator, yes.
Well then. Italics is Emma, italics and bold is Jack, underlines is them together. On with the story!

Clay was very thankful for the ability to walk. He kept thinking about how no one appreciated it until it was gone. But he could walk now, though it was more of a limp, and that meant that he could once again feel the humming voice of the sand underneath him. It was a good feeling. What wasn't a good feeling was knowing that he and his closest friends were trapped in a computer game, maybe never to leave, and his best friend's girlfriend was in the clutches of a madman. The morning's run-in with Emma hadn't helped. Plus, they were stuck with their first and worst enemy who would probably backstab them the second it looked like a better idea than helping them out. Yes, things were grim, but he could walk, and for that he would be thankful.

He stepped out of the medical tent, squinting in the desert sun. His wound throbbed, but it was far less painful since the medicine man had given him a strange paste to rub into it. It burned for a minute, but after that the pain had nearly vanished. He had already eaten, so he decided to check in with the Shoku warrior and see how things were progressing. As he walked through the camp, people bustled around him, packing up their tents and loading carts and bags onto camels and horses. Several lizard gearbeasts scuttled around, carrying packages and provisions. Great clouds of sand were kicked up, but a wave of his hand sent them back to the ground, murmuring about times long ago. Sand was much chattier than stone.

"Clay!" He turned at the voice, smiling to see Omi weaving his way through the crowd. Omi's white coat was covered in sand and grit, but he seemed exuberant nonetheless. "It is good to see that you are above and jogging!"

"Up an' runnin'. Thanks, little buddy, it's good to be back. What'd Ah miss?" The boys walked through the mass of people, their voices mingling with a hundred other in a different language. The language the people spoke sounded like Arabic, but Clay didn't speak it, so he couldn't be sure.

"The Sheikh is happy to have us here, and we will be traveling with the desert people past Knightfall. We will be there in two days, and you and Raimundo and Jack I get to sit with him at the head of the caravan," Omi said proudly.

"Sounds good, except fer Spicer." A moment later, something occurred to the Texan. "Wait… Emma won't be with us?"

"No, she will be in the back with the other women," Omi chirped. "They are staying back there so they do not interfere with the business of the men!"

"You'll fit in just fine here, Omi," Clay said dryly. His real message escaped the monk, who continued along blissfully. In truth, though, Clay was relieved that Emma wouldn't be with them. No awkward encounters. Clay wasn't stupid- he knew how she felt, and she might take whatever had happened while he was sick as… well, however it was girls took that kind of thing. The point was, he didn't want to have to deal with it if it was brought up, since they didn't need any more distractions on their way… nor any more rules broken.

"This is bull crap!" Emma roared as two guards pulled her towards the back of the caravan. They each had a firm grip on an arm, but she kicked and snarled and though she was far weaker than them, her temper tantrum was making their task very unpleasant. Finally they had gotten her to a colorful covered wagon near the end of the procession, where they unceremoniously tossed her in. She landed among some provisions with a thump, and sat up, rubbing the welt on her head. "Hey! You guys'll pay fer that!" she yelled, sticking her head out of the flap in the canvas. "You hear me?" But the guards had hightailed it, and with a huff of indignation she reentered the wagon.

"Ah… hello." Emma whirled around to see several other young women, varying in age from fourteen to early twenties, sitting around. They all wore veils and were dressed in dark colors, save for some jewelry here and there. Emma felt a familiar feeling rise up in her throat; shame. Here she was, allowed to ride with the desert people instead of being left to die in the desert, and she had fought them every step of the way. Worse, she had made a fool of herself in front of anyone who might have been a friend. 'Just like the first day of school,' she thought miserably.

"Hi," she said, weakly, attempting a smile. "Heh, um… some security, huh? Couldn't get a bag of Doritos in past those guys."

"We thought you were rather valiant," one of the younger girls offered. Emma's smile grew genuine, and she sat at the edge of the circle the girls were in. "No one fights the guards like that."

Emma laughed. "Well, in my defense, they coulda been more polite."

(A/N: You should pull up The Copper War by The Cog Is Dead. Because there's more super-fun musical action in this chapter as well, yay!)

"Sheikh Hakim, thanks again for letting us travel with you," Raimundo said. He rode a camel next to the Sheikh, which seemed to annoy some of the old men that had been on the council, but Hakim ignored them. For his part, the Sheikh had been very happy to have the Warriors aboard. He wanted to know all about where they came from, and the boys had been happy to talk.

"It is a great joy to have you with us, Raimundo," the man replied. "You and your friends have been most interesting. I enjoy learning so much of your America and Brazil and China. So… you were telling me what a taco is?"

"It's a food," Raimundo began, but was interrupted by his stomach growling fiercely. The Sheikh laughed and glanced up at the sun.

"Yes, it is about lunchtime, isn't it?" He held up a hand, and the procession ground to a halt. "We've made good time insofar. We'll stop here, eat, and continue on." They dismounted as the guards walked up and down the caravan, informing everyone of what time it was. The people gathered on the right side of the caravan in circles, lighting fires and brewing soup and cooking meat. The Sheikh led the boys to the largest circle, which was still attracting people. A large fire crackled in the middle, and a cauldron bubbled with broth.

"While we're waiting for the soup to finish, who would like to tell a story?" asked one of the old men.

"Let Rajesh!" a boy cried, making several people around him laugh. An older boy who looked just like him ruffled his hair, making the little boy grin.

"No, we heard his last year," the Sheikh said, chuckling. "We should hear a new story… say, why not get one from our new friends?" he asked, glancing at the Warriors. They exchanged looks before Emma entered from the other side of the circle, striding towards them as if on a mission.

"We'd love to!" she said cheerfully, grabbing the arms of Clay and Raimundo and dragging them away. "Just one second while we decide what story to tell!" Jack and Omi followed, and joined them in a huddle. "Guys, can I do this?"

"You know, we can't always cater to your spotlight-hog ways," Raimundo muttered.

"That's not why! … Well, okay, it is a little, but also because these people need an confidence boost. Clay, you remember that steampunk band I showed you?"

"The Cog Is Dead?"

"Yeah! I think you should do guitar and I can tell The Copper War. Maybe that'll get their fighting spirits up, y'know? We could use allies if we wanna beat King," Emma pointed out.

"Wait, I know that song," Jack said. Everyone turned to him, and he coughed. "I mean, I usually listen to heavy metal and rap and evil… stuff… b-but I know them 'cause steampunk is cool."

"Uh-huh."

"Even I do not believe that," Omi murmured, making Emma snicker.

"Whaddaya say, Rai? Me, Em an' Jack tag-teamin'. Might just work," Clay offered.

"… It's worth a shot," he said, a ghost of the grin they were used to gracing his expression. "Just don't come crying to me if they kick you out."

"Challenge accepted, Xiaolin loser."

"Sheikh!" Omi dashed over, tugging on his sleeve. "We are prepared when you are."

"Excellent! Everyone, hush, they're going to tell their story!" Hakim said, waving his hands. Immediately, everyone fell silent, and the few people in the other circles wandered over to see what was going on. Emma skipped into the circle of the circle, Jack following. Clay borrowed an instrument that looked just like a guitar from a man sitting near the edge, and tuned it. When he gave her a thumbs-up, Emma turned to face the crowd, raising her arms theatrically. Curious faces stared back, some ready to judge, some confused, some excited.

"Desert people! We have many stories, as diverse and rich as your own. But today we come to you with a tale that is more fact than fiction. We bring you a story of anger and jealousy, of war, and of a town that rose up against the cruelty of one man to protect their own!" Quiet murmuring broke out amongst the people, but Raimundo couldn't tell if it was positive or negative. "Hit it!" Clay began to play a Western rhythm, and Raimundo noted with satisfaction that many of the crowd began to smile.

"Verdigris Patina was a peaceful little town, the home of Wilbur Redpot, finest coppersmith around. He was famous for his products, as they sold extremely well. Competitors were livid as their business income fell."

"Now, Alexander Copperplate, a man from out of town, declared his gang was coming soon to shoot poor Wilbur down. The town was in a panic; they knew something should be done. And they had till morning sun!"

"So saddle up your steam-bike and put your goggles on! We've got to be prepared or else we'll all be dead by dawn- Copperplate is coming, and his eyes are seeing red, and he's after Wilbur's head!" More instrument joined in; drums, another guitar-like instrument and a horn. The crowd clapped along as Clay led the melody.

"The townsfolk got together and they figured out a plan. They knew they'd have to do their best to save their fellow man, and though they had no weapons, they all had a lot of brains; they'd build machines to leave their villain in a world of pain!"

"So Wilbur brought the copper, old Frank supplied the steel; Bob and Sue had extra chains, and Tommy brought the wheels; they knew they'd have a chance with these, they knew they'd win the fight. And they worked all through the night!"

"So saddle up your steam-bike and put your goggles on! We've got to be prepared or else we'll all be dead by dawn- Copperplate is coming, and his eyes are seeing red, and he's after Wilbur's head!"

"Well Copperplate arrived at dawn, he stayed true to his word. But the town was deathly silent, not a soul was to be heard. He yelled out, "Redpot! Come on out, and fight me like a man!" And that was when the churning and the chugging sounds began."

"An army of the townsfolk soon poured out into the street. Each of them on steam-bikes, and they all were packing heat. They had his men surrounded; there was fear on every face. And they put them in their place!

"Power up your steam-bike, let's show 'em who's in charge! We've got our ropes and grappling hooks and weapons to discharge. Copperplate is panicked and his face is turning white, and we're gonna win this fight!

"That's right! Let's go!" cheered the crowd. Raimundo grinned. It was working. It was actually working!

"Now power down your steam-bike, we finally took 'em down. We strung 'em up and licked 'em good and ran them out of town! Verdigris Patina is a peaceful town once more, and we won the Copper War!"

"Hyah!"

The crowd cheered madly, whooping and laughing as Emma and Jack took a series of well-deserved bows. "You never said you could sing," Emma muttered, nudging Jack and grinning.

"Well, evil geniuses don't usually sing," he said, waving to the audience. "But I'm just so awesome an exception was made in my case."

"Excuses, excuses."

"Great job, guys!" Jack and Emma turned to see Raimundo approach them, grinning widely. "I think you were right; that was just the push they-" Raimundo was interrupted by something that sounded like a helicopter. Everyone craned his or her necks to watch a gearbeast descend from the sky, spitting up massive, choking clouds of sand. However, Raimundo realized when it came near that it was no gearbeast at all, but a sleek helicopter that looked like it came from their world, not from the game. It landed several meters away, too far to be attacked but close enough for those standing on the outside of the circle to see two figures exit. One figure was gripping the second by their arm, and it seemed like the second was being dragged more than walking of their own free will. Once the figures exited the sand cloud, Raimundo gaped. It was Umbra, the mayor from the first town, holding Kimiko's arm. Her wrists were tied together and her mouth was duct-taped, but she seemed fine otherwise. Relief and fear fought for dominance when she saw her friends standing with the desert people, unharmed.

"Hello!" he called, waving jovially. "I believe this belongs to you?" His grip on Kimiko's arm loosened slightly, but she didn't make a run for it. She knew he could just as quickly gun down her friends and innocent bystanders.

"Umbra? What are you doing?" Raimundo yelled.

"What are you talking about?" Hakim asked, momentarily pulling Raimundo's attention away from Kimiko. "That's King!"

"What?" the Brazilian cried, eyes widening.

Umbra smiled. "Guilty as charged. Hakim! You're looking well!" The Sheikh tensed up when Umbra called his name, his hands balling into fists. "How's the migration going? Well, I hope!"

"As well as can be expected when one is exiled from his homeland," Hakim snarled. Umbra just laughed, unthreatened by the man's anger.

"Excellent! Now, then, on to the next matter of business. Who is in charge of the troupe of children intent on ruining my kingdom?" Raimundo stepped forward, eyes blazing. "Ah! Pleasure to meet you once more, young man. Are you the one who received the request to join our noble cause?"

"It's hardly noble… but no, that'd be the pointy-hatted prima donna," Raimundo said, motioning to Emma. "Why?" Kimiko facepalmed even with her hands tied together, and Jack glanced between the two girls.

King smiled in a way Raimundo didn't like at all. "Good. Now, then, seeing as how I'm a shrewd businessman, I'm willing to make a trade. The Enchantress for the Trickster Mage. You have five minutes to decide." The Warriors, not knowing what else to do, crowded together to discuss.

"I vote yes," Raimundo hissed.

"Woah, there, we haven't considered everything," Clay muttered back. "What's he gonna do with Emma if he gets her?"

"Something he'd do to Kimiko otherwise," Emma whispered, her eyes downcast. "And… I'd rather it be me."

"Two votes for yes."

"Make it three," Jack said. The four kids glanced at him in surprise, and he glared at them. "We have a truce, so I get to vote. I don't mind losing a Halo buddy if it means we get back home faster."

"Dang, you got real heartless real fast," Emma muttered.

"You expected somethin' different?" Clay asked dryly.

"I do not want to make the trade! That might not even be Kimiko!" Omi protested, bringing to mind Jack's Chameleon-Bot.

"Clay?" Raimundo asked, glancing at the Texan. He gulped, looking around the group.

"Ah…" he fiddled with his hat, mind racing. "Ah say…"

"One minute left, children!"

"Sorry Omi, four to one, now go," Raimundo said, pushing Emma towards King. She slapped his hands away, glowering at him.

"I'm goin', I'm goin'. Calm down." Raimundo did feel bad about throwing the girl to the wolves, so to speak, but between Emma and Kimiko he would always choose Kim. Clay watched with mixed emotions as Emma walked resolutely forward, stopping several feet away from King.

"I'm the beta. I'll come with you, just give back my friend."

"Done and done," he replied, smiling broadly. "I knew you'd do the smart thing," he added, glancing at Raimundo. "You remind me of myself as a young man." Raimundo shuddered, and hoped that he had made the right decision. King let go of Kimiko, and the first thing she did was pull the duct tape off her mouth. She and Emma passed each other, pausing to speak briefly.

"Kimiko, the women here have something great going on," Emma muttered, glancing back at the group of desert people watching in silence. "Help 'em out. They need a confidence boost, and you're the girl for the job."

"Will do. There are two girls, Autumn and Lydia, who are organizing a rebellion. Blow the roof off the place when we get back to jailbreak you, okay?" Emma's eyes lit up and her smile became substantial, and Kimiko smiled in return.

"That's enough chit-chat!" King barked, and the girls kept walking. Emma joined King's side, looking back at her friends. Raimundo had embraced Kimiko, who was on the verge of tears. Jack was edging away from the couple, and Omi was watching curiously. Clay glanced at her for a moment, and she smiled at him. He looked away again, pulling his hat over his eyes, and her smile faltered.

"It's a shame they had to come with you," King sighed, drawing the Irish girl's attention away from her friends. "Had you come alone, you would have been whisked off to Knightfall without all this questing nonsense. Ah well. What's done is done. And you're in the best of company now, so don't be so glum!" he added, smiling cheerfully.

"… Gee, thanks," she monotoned, but King simply ignored it and ushered her into the helicopter. She was shunted to the back to sit between to crates and piles of rope. The helicopter started up, and by the time the sand cleared, they were too far away to see the desert people anymore. Emma leaned against a crate, closing her eyes and hoping desperately she had done the right thing. She didn't know too much about good choices, seeing as she had never made very many, but it had seemed like one at the time. However, now that she was being taken further away from her only friends in the world, it seemed like a very bad decision indeed.

After a lot of hugging and crying and 'I missed you so much,' Kimiko stepped back and looked around. The boys had introduced her to Sheikh Hakim, and the caravan had started back up. She sat with some other girls, talking about what had gone on in her absence.

"The Cleric was wounded in battle," one of the girls began.

"The Healer said it was because he was trying to protect the Trickster M- Emma," a small girl added, smiling as though she had just divulged a particularly good secret.

"He doesn't seem very fond of her, though," a woman with a yellow scarf said. "He barely even looks at her."

"Well, Clay and Emma are… both strange, in their own ways," Kimiko said, trying to figure out how to explain their relationship or lack thereof. "She likes him but he doesn't exactly like her back. Well, either that, or the rule against relationships with non-Dragons is keeping him from doing anything about it."

"Enough about them! Tell us about the Huntsman you're in love with!" squealed a girl in red. The younger girls started clamoring for information, and Kimiko shook her head.

"Raimundo's my boyfriend, that's all," Kimiko explained. "I mean, love is a little extreme, since we only started dating, like, a month ago, but… he's a sweet guy. He's funny and smart and really talented… not to mention good-looking."

"Very true," laughed one of the older girls. "Are you going to help him liberate us?" asked one of the smaller girls, and the wagon fell silent.

"Of course I am," Kimiko replied, smiling kindly. "You all don't deserve to be out in the desert like this. I'm going to change some things, and the other Xiaolin Warriors are going to help!"

Little did she know that another person was thinking the same thing… but he meant it much differently.