AN: Haha... I decided to not prolong any agony. I got eight reviews in less than 24 hours... though I didn't want to post two days in a row...

Thanks to KyrieofAccender, my beta, who has born through all of my evil cliffies and all of my... other- evil tendencies. Though I can't think of any at the moment. Except for my morning cheeriness, which all you lot think ought to be court-marshalled, despite that it provides daily entertainment. Go figure. And thanks yous to all reviewers; PrincessSolaria, Lioness Queen, Pie of Doomeh, Kelusen, Kathy, wingsgirl1313, fairydust000, Ginastar, and C. T. Eleczko.

So here you are; as the chappie title hints, surprises galore.

Chapter Twenty One

Surprise

Damek glanced at the two, stony-faced friends as they left the ship, not once turning back to admire the beauty of Hauji Cove.

He did not blame them. The sight of it- which often filled him with relief and peace- made him sick now.

It surprised him when the first thing Cyne asked of Tajang was horses for a ride to the shrine that Merle had mentioned. Unsettled and unsure of how to deal with the young woman's obvious pain, the old man had agreed, almost immediately and ordered mounts to bring them. He only shot a worried glance at Damek as he insisted that the youth go with them.

They nodded wearily; arguing seemed to hold no appeal for either.

At first, Damek had wondered at the lack of any sort of guard as they left the city through the path that led straight from the ports to the high cliffs upon which the small shrine was. Then he remembered Cyne's 'Gift' and how it had left his foster uncle in awe of the girl. Surely, with that, she needed no escort, save to show her to this shrine that they were so grimly fixated on.

He had no idea why they cared so much about the old thing, but he would gladly help if it would lessen her pain. That, at least, he did know.

If Nawat had not been flying in crow's form above the sea, he would have frowned in puzzlement. He had expected to catch up with the Windsailer by now. In fact, long before now. Still, he had caught sight of nothing on the horizon but a small fishing boat….

Mentally, he sighed as he sped up slightly. They would perch on the boat for a time to regain their strength. It was headed towards Malubesang, anyhow.

And, as soon as was possible, he and his brethren would fly south as fast as was possible.

Cyne watched their surroundings dully, aware of all the beauty around her- the very sights she had wanted to see while in Rajmuat- and not caring at all.

All she wanted to do was finish this damnable wager with the Trickster and leave the Isles forever, whether Brand wanted to come or not.

She never should have left Carthak. She could go back….

And tell her father she was never going to use her Gift again. That would go over quite well….

But she had lost a friend- nearly two-

Brand had been so close to death when she borrowed his own strength. Only Damek shaking her had brought her back, had broken her hold on her friend. If he had not slapped her-

She shuddered as a loud crow call echoed through the woods. Nawat had thought it a good idea for all three of them to learn the language years ago….

Friend, friend, friend- was the call. She ignored it as their horses slowly followed the path, Damek in the lead.

The jungle's growth was spectacular, the leafy branches sweeping over the paths to shelter it, creating a natural canopy while flowers and vines wrapped trees in strangleholds.

"Um…," the youth's low voice cut through the crow's calls. "We're almost there. Just around the bend…. It's on the edge of the cliff, so be careful-"

Be careful. Brand nearly snorted with scorn. What did he care?

When Damek dismounted and began to lead his mount, he did the same, conscious that Cyne was still on her horse.

Then, suddenly, there was a break in the trees, and Brand's mouth dropped open in shock.

It was a lovely clearing, with a view of the glittering, blue sea. The ground simply dropped away a few feet after the seven-foot high statue of a gorgeous, ethereal woman who looked to the east with a severe gaze that was filled with miserable longing and dangerous hate all in the same look. A carved jaguar rested at her feet….

Kyprioth had described her as well as anyone could; but he had forgotten the surge of power that filled Brand as he stared. It was a mix of feelings, all indescribable and capable of knocking him to his knees-

Then again, perhaps it had nothing to do with the statute and cage of the Jaguar Goddess, Queen of the Isles.

Perhaps it had to do with the wet redhead lounging at the feet of the statue, a smirking grin crossing her face as they locked eyes.

Aly started as she entered her study and saw the figure in the corner of her eye. Then she frowned and stalked over to her desk, where she poured over reports studiously, not really paying attention to whatever they were saying.

Finally, a deep voice said, "Really, Aly. Ignoring me is just a tad bit childish, is it not?"

"Perhaps it is," she replied spitefully. "But it makes me feel just a tad bit better, too." The Trickster chuckled, and she leveled him with a steady glare. "Where is my daughter?"

"Right now?" The god tossed a coin up into the air and caught it expertly. "On Malubesang. Enjoying a lovely day on the cliffs. Giving her friends a rather nasty shock." Then he paused, thinking. "Well, it is probably a welcome shock, but certainly a rather large shock all the same." He threw the coin up again. "I have a bet with the Graveyard Hag that ol' Brand won't be able to speak for a few minutes. She says he won't be able to do anything but stutter for a couple of days. I said, no chance. He's far too fond of the sound of his own voice. Rather like me, that way." Aly shot him a deadly stare.

"I hate when you talk cryptically," she said softly. "Mind telling me straight why my daughter's shocking her friends?"

"Hmm…." Kyprioth pursed his lips, and then grinned. "Nope. Not really. But I think you might mind after I tell you, so I'll be telling you the important things that need doing first." Aly's eyes narrowed.

"Hurry up."

"Check into the murder of Theon, will you?" he asked casually. Aly cocked an eyebrow.

"You care about delivering justice for that scum?" she asked. "True be told, I'm shocked you had nothing to do with it…."

"Who's to say I didn't?" he volleyed. "Besides, that isn't what I care about. I would expect an intelligent gel like yourself to figure that out yourself. Into his dealings, right 'round his death. You might find shocking correlations to those gate crashers who stuck a knife in your charge's back." Aly's hazel eyes darkened; she did not particularly like to recall that night, for several reasons-

"Anything else?"

"Well, aside from the louts who are banging on the gates now, demanding to be let in to kill the queen...," he said cheerily as hurried footsteps sounded from down the hall. "Who, by the way, are from that very same group who caused all that trouble that I just mentioned-"

An out-of-breath messenger rapped on the door, then stuck her head in when a bewildered Aly called for the report.

"Men dressed in the same robes as those from the ball the other night are here, threatening Queen Dovasary," she said swiftly, then disappeared to dash down the hall towards Sibigat's study. Aly swore, then made her way to the door.

"Oh, and Aly?" The god's voice was almost sing-song. "About why Merle was causing all that fuss?" He paused for dramatic effect, and succeeded in making Aly glare at him.

"Spit it out," she told him, eyes glinting. "I've got fools to interrogate."

"They thought she was dead," he said, then disappeared in a cloud of silver mist.

It had not taken much effort to disarm the robed men shouting curses and words of doom at the palace gate. Now, Aly was shoving one of the survivors' heads into the wall as she demanded answers. Taybur Sibigat winced; he had never seen her use such violence on prisoners. She was clearly at her wits' end.

"Dammit all, why do you want the queen dead?" she snarled. The man only laughed.

"We were few," he panted, apparently not at all concerned that the woman holding him could kill him in a moment. "Now we are many. We shall plague, plague this reign of the Trickster! Kypria shall rise!"

"Kypria," Sibigat said softly. "The Jaguar Goddess. She-"

"I know!" Aly snapped. "The mage at the ball mentioned her, too! They want the Trickster's supporters dead and want his sister to rule the Isles again!"

"Then why are you asking why they want Dove dead?" Sibigat asked patiently. Aly only glared into the wall, shaking the man she held for good measure. "Aly…." He sighed. "Let me take over for a few hours. You look… overwhelmed." She frozen, then looked over at him, clearly at a loss for words. Feeling encouraged, he continued softly, "Just let me have a talk with them, and I'll find out why they've started beating at the doors all of the sudden. I-"

"You're saying I can't do my job, is that it?" Aly's face was emotionless; she surveyed him without a word.

"No…." He struggled to find something reassuring to say. "I mean, everyone needs a break, and you are worried, and-" Aly's eyebrows rose.

"And you are not?" she asked tartly. "May I remind you that your son is with my daughter and the he-" With a look at the man whose face she was forcing into the wall, she amended, "-their friend?" She would not dare tell anyone that Dove's niece was missing, though rumors were flurrying about in Court about the sudden disappearance of the trio. Aly could only thank the Gods that- despite the odd circumstances about this time- not seeing them for a few days was not the greatest oddity. After all, there were scandals and gossip to speculate more about than the three young missing nobles who were very often missing.

Sibigat's eyes narrowed in frustration. What was the woman thinking? He kept on thinking about Brand, wondering where he was, what he was doing-

Gods, he could barely give his work the attention it demanded! He had nearly got gutted on a handy blade one of those priest-men had been carrying! His mouth twisted grimly.

"Just go, Aly," he said tonelessly. Her eyes widened, and she bit her lip.

"Goddess… I did not mean that, Taybur. You know I didn't. I'm sorry-" She trailed off, then inhaled slowly. "Yes. Maybe I should not be doing this right now." Without another glance at the captive, she stepped away and let Sibigat take charge, starting with a calm inquiry of how the man was feeling and then kindly leading him down the hall towards the study where truth serums were waiting to be used.

Merle casually eased herself into a standing position and waved. Brand could not believe it; he could not breathe.

He could not believe that she was standing in front of him. It was not possible. It was some cruel trick of Kyprioth, who had forced them into this damned position in the first place! Speechless, he watched as the sun played in the strands of her gleaming hair, as she strode up to him, grin now wading.

"What?" she asked softly, her voice low, concerned but still simmering with irony. "Too disappointed to see that I'm alive, then?" He sprinted up to her, and then pulled her against him, breathing in her scent.

It had to be her. Not even a god could think of saying that. No god could be that cruel. At least, he was fairly sure….

"Merle, I swear," he whispered in her ear. "If you were me and I were you right now, you- I- I'd beat you into the ground." She laughed; it was a bright, musical sound that seemed to lighten the very air around them. He pulled back slightly to meet her gaze.

It was quizzical, though faintly amused.

"You could not have thought I was really dead," she said, but it was a question. He shot a stern glare at her.

"What else could we think?" he retorted hotly, but any anger was suddenly forgotten as her hazel eyes bore into his. His pulse quickened and, subconsciously, he inclined his head towards her-

"Merle!" Both of them toppled as Cyne ran into them. The three fell into the grass. For a moment, they looked at each other, then burst into laughter.

As Cyne laughed, laughed with relief and joy and even a tinge of hysteria, she caught sight of Damek watching them oddly, his head tilted to the side as he stared at her. She grinned at him, and a faint smile came to his lips. But she saw worry in his eyes.

A worry that troubled her.

"Is this what you wanted us to figure out?" Sibigat asked, voice cold as he watched the pacing Trickster. Aly's eyes smoldered dangerously as she read the report. "That a dark-haired young woman apparently killed Theon? That she was rummaging through his belongings?"

"Looking for something," Aly said icily as she glared a hole into the wall. "She stole something. Are you certain you cannot say anything else?" Kyprioth shrugged.

"You already know that Kypria's worshippers want to free her… that Theon died under questionable circumstances…."

"So what was Theon involved in?" Dove asked as she watched the troubled god. "He was a Mithran, hated you and undoubtedly your sister, too. And why aren't you with Cyne and the others now? They are helping you… so why are you here?"

"I cannot go to them until they have left… the place they are now," he retorted. "And I will not be able to go there until all binds have been broken."

"So there is an enchantment? Where they are now?" Dove prompted. "A bind that a god cannot break?"

"Obviously," Kyprioth said tartly, and Aly leapt to her feet, eyes gleaming.

"Where you locked her up," she breathed. "They are there." Then she shot a glare at him. "Where-" The Trickster stared at her loftily.

"If I could, I certainly would have mentioned something by now," he said.

"I'm not as sure," Aly muttered. "So the priests are trying to break her out of her imprisonment… and my daughter and her friends are trying to stop them!" She whipped around and threw her arms into the air. "You fiend!" she cried in fury, kicking her desk.

That was a mistake. She bit her lip as pain surged through her foot.

"You've put them in some isolated place where they will be up against madmen!" she yelled. Then she turned to Sibigat. "Get Ysul to contact a mage in Tajang's pay," she ordered, voice harsh. "Tell the man to keep them safe, at all costs!"

"I have tried that already," Sibigat replied, voice quiet and firm. "Ysul told me he cannot."

"Of course he cannot," Kyprioth muttered. "I could have told you that. The Great Gods are preparing for trouble. The air is too thick with our power for any Gift to work well, even if none of us can converge on the danger yet." Dove paled.

"Cyne! Gods, she won't even be able to summon her magic to protect her!" A dark chuckle escaped the god's mouth, and the queen stared at him in surprise.

"I would not worry about that," he told her wryly. "I would not worry…."

Once they could catch their breaths, Merle explained that she had somehow found herself near shore and had made it there before locating the shrine. Then she had decided to wait there, since she had decided that if Tajang thought her dead, that she could wait here freely.

"Doesn't make up for what you put m- us through," Brand muttered.

"Why do you need to wait here?" Damek asked softly, puzzled. The three friends exchanged glances, and Cyne nodded. They could use another mage's help, anyway. And he could convince Tajang to leave them to their own devices…. Brand began to explain their journey and mission, and found that Kyprioth's power was no longer binding them to silence. He frowned as he finished the tale.

"That's odd," he said slowly. "Why-" He looked over at Cyne. "You could not speak to Dove, right?" The brunette nodded. "So why-"

"Maybe now that we are on our way and cannot be stopped…." Merle shrugged. "It hardly matters, I suppose. Maybe here, near this-" She jerked her head towards the statue of the foreboding Jaguar Goddess. "Kyprioth's power cannot work. After all, he cannot come anywhere near here…." She faded off, then paled. "Damn. I had not thought about that until now. He cannot go saving us now…."

"Maybe we ought to head back," Damek said quietly. "Or, at least, get away from here…." Cyne frowned at him.

"Why would we want to do that now?" He bit his lip, then looked up into her eyes.

"I have another theory," he said, voice low and nervous. "When age-old bindings break, everything in this world and the Divine, get just a bit crazy. And when the keys to breaking bindings are close together, that is when everything gets haywire. Of course, the moment that the binding is broken, the magics will return to their normal state... but God magic is too heavy-too close, too strong- for it- or the Gift, or wild magic, for that matter," he added darkly. "-to work." Cyne's eyes widened in surprise, shock, and horror as she realized what Damek was saying.

Merle only frowned.

"You're being as cryptic as a god," she accused, pushing her red hair behind her ear. "What-"

"What he means," Cyne whispered. "-is that the amulet is close. Too close."

AN: Starting with next chappie, I will be leaping, back and forth between Aly and Nawat and Cyne and Tajang... I think this is the last real cliffie. I think. Wait, no. I lied. I wrote that before I wrote chappie 23. Man, I gotta tell you, I was nearly wringing my hands when I finished it and sent it off to my beta... She said that if I hadn't sent the end to her already, she might have... done sommat, I forget what. She threatens me too much, lol... But after that, no more...

Well, then again, my last chappie-

Well, I won't be going into that. Suffice it to say I'll leave you wanting more. Hopefully. ;)

Next time, things get exciting... with Chapter 22: Plans!

But not really exciting. You are gonna have to wait one more chappie after that one... ;D