Author's Note: Thank you to all my readers, reviewers, and subscribers. A special thank you to Queen Isabella for her help.

Of Light

Chapter Thirty Six

- Alta Torretta, Heart of the Shining City -

After her nightmare, Az had only take enough time to nominally compose herself, before fleeing to her parents private chambers like she'd done as a little girl in the few annuals she'd existed as an only child. Jeb Cain had followed close behind her, never speaking until they'd reached the lift. When the doors shut, he turned to her with a stoic, impassive expression on his face that reminded her of Captain Cain, his father.

"Are you feeling any better?" he asked her cautiously. The poorly covered concern in his voice betrayed the indifference in his face.

She offered him a weak smile. "I've had worse days. I'll be better when DG is home and safe. And your father, as well," she added.

Jeb's hazel eyes seemed to darken at the mention of his father. He opened his mouth to speak, but the doors of the lift slid fluidly open in that moment, putting them in plain view of the grand hall that served as an entryway to the thirty-fourth floor; the entire residential level was dedicated to the reigning monarch and her consort.

Az smoothed her hands over the skirt of the simple, unadorned gown she wore; she lifted her chin and gathered her regal bearing. Two maids were hastily scrubbing at the floor-length mirrors that lined the hall, which were covered with annuals worth of thick dust. The women stopped to watch her curiously.

As the Princess Royal and her guard stepped out of the lift, the maids went back to their tiresome work, lest they seem rude; Jeb could feel, as they passed the two women, an undercurrent of apprehension, of fear. Though every willing Viewer in the country, with Raw at the forefront, had marched past Azkadellia, only to sense the dark presence in her gone, the people of the O.Z. still doubted, were still blindfolded by the darkness of the annuals they had endured. Not everyone would have the chance to know the sweet, caring woman that Az truly was; Jeb absently wondered how long it would be before the veil was lifted from the eyes of the country.

Azkadellia, to her credit, seemed not to notice, or at least did not let her knowledge show on her face. She walked upright, her pace was slow and serene. Though her back was to him, he knew she held a calm, kind smile on her face; when they passed a palace worker, Az's head would nod in greeting.

It took almost ten minutes at Az's carefully demure pace to reach the private living quarters of the royal couple. Two guards stood outside the heavy, carved wooden doors. Both bowed as Az approached.

"Your Highness," both said respectfully, the smallest fraction of a beat off of perfect unison.

"Are my parents awake?" Az asked. It was still taking Jeb some time to get used to her referring to the Queen and the Prince Consort as 'Mother' and 'Daddy'.

The guard on the right nodded. "They were awakened by Master Ambrose almost thirty minutes ago, with important news. I do believe he said he was on your orders, my lady."

Az nodded distractedly. "Will you please announce me to my mother?"

The guard bowed once more. His companion held open the door, and the guard walked tentatively into the sitting room, which was situated outside the bedroom. As the guard told her parents of her arrival and her wish for an audience, Jeb wondered what it would have been like to go through such procedure when he'd wanted to talk to his parents as a child. His heart gave a painful twinge as his thoughts ventured towards his father's long absence, and how very little his mother had had to say in the annuals after Wyatt had been taken from them.

Thankfully, the consort's voice called through the open doorway. "Az, honey, come in here," he said, that faint, unfamiliar lilt of accent both casual and welcoming.

Jeb followed Azkadellia into the lavish suite, and stood with his back to the door after the guards outside had closed them.

The Queen and her husband were having breakfast, sitting around a small, circular table near a wide-open window. Their daughter crossed the room to join them. She sat down gracefully and accepted the cup of tea her father offered her, giving him a tiny smile and a quiet 'thank you' in return.

"Ambrose told us you think vehicles should be sent for the general," Ahamo said loosely, a voice treasonous to the tension in his shoulders, which Jeb could see plainly from his position across the room. "He also said," the consort continued, "that you'd had a nightmare. Are you feeling any better?"

At this Jeb shifted uncomfortably, aware he'd asked Az the same question fifteen minutes before and hadn't received an answer. He watched as the princess, his charge, sipped her tea before nodding her head at her father. Az's dark eyes flickered towards Jeb, their gazes locking for the briefest of moments, before she turned back to her parents.

"I am, thank you, Daddy."

Her parents waited, thinking she'd elaborate further, but Az only fell into the dreamy silence she wore as a cloak daily. Only around him, Jeb noticed, did she truly let down her defenses. Not even to her own family did she relax, so terrified... of what, he didn't know.

"Azkadellia, darling," the Queen said, her voice soft and careful. Jeb was glad to see that the woman knew how fragile her daughter truly was, that the mask of control Az wore on her face was just that, a mask. "Ambrose told us that you were quite upset when you awoke."

That, Jeb thought, is a tasteful understatement.

Az took her time in answering, as if choosing her words with great care. When she finally did speak, her voice seemed strained with her effort to keep it steady.

"I think it was just a nightmare, Mother. It was very... vivid, but it didn't linger, so the more time that passes, the more I'm sure it was just a bad dream."

The Queen shook her head. "You do not think it could have been a premonition?"

"No, no," Az said quickly, but firmly. "I really doubt that it was. All the same, I think sending a transport to aid the general in finding DG wouldn't hurt. I want her home as quickly as possible, don't you?"

Ahamo chuckled at his daughter's adept turning of the conversation. Her mother seemed to be at a loss for words. Jeb realized, as he watched the family interaction with bemusement, that Azkadellia hadn't actually revealed any of the details of her nightmare to her parents, when she'd so readily spilled them out to him. Not a single mention of the deaths she'd dreamed, or of the Emerald falling into enemy hands... but one look at the pale monarch, her agitated husband, Jeb wondered if it might be all right to spare them the worry of a nightmare induced by Azkadellia's hellish ordeals.

Though Ahamo seemed sated by his daughter's assurances, the Queen watched Az almost fretfully as the younger woman paid far too much attention to her tea.

"Azkadellia," the Queen said slowly, "secrets are destructive."

Her daughter remained silent. Az's eyes sought out Jeb's again; though he'd been watching her intently, he was the first to look away. Neither the Queen or her consort noticed Az looking at her guard; so often did the young woman's gaze drift into the distance that they just believed her to be watching nothing at all.

"Is Ambrose sending the vehicles?" Az asked her mother, ignoring the monarch's prior comment.

With a sigh, The Queen nodded, but she did not speak. As if they were of one mind, Ahamo spoke instead.

"Ambrose left here to send a message to the Tower prison. Two transport trucks are being sent to the Tomb, though there is no road that will carry a truck near there. They'll have to stop and wait at the nearest juncture, which is I believe around twenty miles or so from the Tomb."

Jeb tried to call a map into his head, but realized it fruitless, as he didn't know the location of the Gale Tomb; all he knew, from a hushed conversation with Azkadellia, was that it was in the western mountains, past the northern tip of Lake Country.

The whispered family discussion soon came to an end; stewards began to bustle in and out as another day at the palace officially began. The chamberlain, carrying a large book, came in to announce to her Majesty the day's planned agenda; though the Queen listened intently, Jeb noticed the consort's attention was wandering. He decided he liked Ahamo, though he was sure that, provided with a few details, the feeling would not be mutual.

When Ambrose returned, Az took this as her cue to leave. She got up from the table, bidding farewell to her parents and giving Ambrose an affectionate pat on the arm as she passed him; the advisor gave her a full, unrestrained smile and a jovial "Take 'er easy!" As he turned back to the royal couple, Jeb heard the advisor begin to glitch. "Take 'er –" He caught himself, muttered a humble apology to the Queen, and continued to speak as if his train of thought hadn't been disrupted in the slightest.

Azkadellia walked a purposeful path to the lift, confident that Jeb was following behind her; she did not turn around, only slowing when someone approached, as to seem more ladylike. Her heels clicked on the intricately tiled floor; Jeb could have followed the sound of her steps in the darkness.

When they were in the lift, and the doors had slid securely closed, Az leaned against a wall, not pushing the button to take them back to her room. She closed her eyes, letting her head fall back, exposing her slender white neck to him. Jeb looked carefully away.

"You were watching me."

Jeb's eyes snapped back to the princess. "I beg your pardon?"

"In my parents' chamber. You were watching me. You didn't take your eyes off of me."

Jeb smirked, feeling a difficult pull between being happy she'd noticed and disappointment in himself that he'd let her. "That's my job, Az, remember?" Her eyes seemed to light up when he called her by her name. Spurred on by her reaction, he let his mouth curve into a wider smile, a devilish show of teeth, a slight cock to one eyebrow. "Or are you keeping me around for other reasons?"

Az exhaled sharply, shocked by his insinuation. Her cheeks burned.

"I – I'm sure I don't know what you mean," she said, but her voice faltered, betraying her.

Jeb chuckled softly as he took a step towards her, feeling brave. He stood close to her, not a single part of his body touching hers, though the bottom of her dress brushed against his boots. He watched her, his gaze intent; realizing the longing in her eyes wasn't something she'd easily give in to, he raised his hand up to her face, caressing her cheek with the backs of his knuckles. Az closed her eyes, unconsciously tipping her face towards his, ready to receive but not necessarily to give.

Jeb, however, was willing to settle for that at the moment. Being so close to her, the tiny yet public space, the memory of the hot kisses of the night before was too much for his common sense to fight; sweeping in, he captured her mouth with immediate passion and warmth. With a small, stifled moan, Az relaxed against the wall, pulling him towards her so that he was forced to push out his arm to brace his weight against the wall. Her grip on his shirt was tight, full of desperate need as she responded fully to him, allowing his tongue access to hers in the hot cavern of her mouth.

His free arm snaked around her to jerk her hips towards his. Again, she moaned, this time louder. The taste of her was inebriating; he'd never been much of a drinker, but damned if he wouldn't become intoxicated by her if they kept this up, too drunk off of her sensuality to realize that what was happening was stupid, dangerous. Or perhaps those two facts were what convinced him this was exactly what he needed to be doing.

Azkadellia pushed him away; she was flushed, breathless. "Jeb..." she whispered slowly, her senses seemingly knocked about from the kiss. She took a deep breath. She was torn; this was not the place for this kind of thing to be happening. There were customs, protocols, after all, and none of them pointed towards the crown princess making out with her bodyguard in an elevator.

"Yes, your Highness?" Jeb asked her with a mischievous grin, only adding further to the mire in her head.

Az disentangled herself from him, falling against the wall of the elevator as he released her. Straightening her skirt, she looked at him. "Have you seen the rooftop arboretum?"

Jeb's eyebrows shot up in surprise; he stepped away, once again regaining a thread of his professionalism. Whatever he'd been expecting her to say, it hadn't been that. "Um, no, I haven't. Ambrose told me every tree in the arboretum is dead."

Az offered him the barest trace of a smile. "Precisely; there have been no gardeners hired yet, either. There isn't a soul up there." Her eyes glimmered, a bit of his own playfulness reflecting back at him.

Damn, he thought. I think I've become a bad influence.

"I would be honored, Princess, if you would show me the arboretum," he said with a curt bow, something he had picked up from Ambrose.

Azkadellia's face broke into a full grin, as she reached past him to push a button, and the lift began to ascend.

- The Desk of the First Advisor -

Glitch always had a headache.

The joy of having his brain back in his head had long since worn off. Long since. He'd forgotten what a pompous, anal-retentive person he was... used to be... was? He didn't even know, as he was the first person in the history of the O.Z. to have had a brain forcibly removed, and then reconnected. He had become something of his own experiment, and the psychiatric study that came along with it was amusing, most of the time.

Amusing, minus all the minor embarrassments that came along with conditioning his headcase self to deal with palace life. Forgetting to bow, repeating himself... accidentally calling her Majesty... oh gods... 'cupcake'.

Today, however, he was having an even harder time than usual concentrating around the headache. He'd spent the last week, first in Finaqua, and now in Central City, assisting the consort in any way that he could. When he wasn't aimlessly pacing rooms with Ahamo, he was with Tutor, researching what he could about outlanders and emeralds and ancient magics.

However, the cleansing of the Sorceress's regime had more than wiped out any resources stemming from the centuries before. Anything that they had been able to find, there was nothing with which to compare it to; it was all a bunch of guesswork, which, thankfully, was where the Glitch in him shined.

The tiny stack of tomes they'd been able to find that vaguely referenced the outlanders, that gave the briefest mention of the Emerald, were stacked on his desk, and he was staring at them now, but not thinking about them. His feet were up on the desk and his fingers were templed in front of him, the tips pressed to his lips.

Azkadellia's nightmare that morning had shaken him. Ignoring (for the moment) that she'd thrown herself into his arms for comfort, she seemed to be bouncing back fine, but nonetheless, he was on an endless mind spiral of that morning; the maid who'd run into his room, wild-eyed, jabbering about the screaming princess, the sight of Az in a tangle of sheets and blankets screaming bloody murder, young Jeb Cain kneeling indiscreetly on the bed beside her, looking as lost and helpless as she as to what to do.

Glitch shook his head, extricating his fingers from themselves to run through his hair. It was nice to be rid of the zipper...

Rolling his eyes at himself at the ease with which he became distracted, he looked at the clock. It was near six o'clock. Corporal Hass's party had arrived a few hours before; after an audience with the Queen, most of the men had been sent back to the barracks, which was situated in the Bellicose District, near the gates of the city. The young corporal, however, at the insistence of the consort had been asked to stay at the palace.

A pile of moldy ledgers were sitting on the desk. Ambrose had gone through them, and had shown them to the Queen as soon as he'd known they held nothing of interest, except for one tiny entry. They were records, dating back almost two hundred years, with the most recent entry that of a hundred and twenty-two years before.

Glitch flipped through the ledger now, careful of the soft, crumbling pages. Near the front of the volume, some of the ink had faded, but... there. On the third to last filled out he read the words, the name, he remembered DG and her dream, the morning Cain had left with her mother and sister.

DG had seen the danger coming in her own strange way. All the above-average weird things seemed to happen to DG.

It always hit him suddenly, like having the breath knocked out of him, how much he missed his friends. Work distracted him, sometimes shiny things distracted him, he'd be walking along minding his own business and then wham!, it would hit him. The rough Tin Man and the tumbled princess, in his brain, impossible to get out.

There was a knock on the door. "Come in," Glitch called out, glad for once to welcome the next distraction.

Raw entered the room, walking in his cautious, shrinking way. "Glitch," he said at once. "Something happens. Raw feel... magical interference." The Viewer held out what was grasped between his hands. It was DG's little green-dressed doll, taken from her room in Finaqua, what he had been using to connect himself to their young friend.

"What in Ozma's name does that mean?" Glitch muttered to himself. You should know this, Glitch, he chastised himself. While he searched his formerly-pickled brain, Raw shook his head, watching his friend with the usual interest.

"Safe now. Disruption not last ten minutes, and now there is peace."

Glitch's eyebrows raised in surprise. "That was fast."

Raw shrugged. "Cain and DG not slow down for anyone."

- Alta Torretta, Heart of the Shining City -

Night had fallen over the O.Z., and within the walls of the palace in Central City, all was deceptively quiet.

Azkadellia had returned to the balcony for the second night. She was still in her dinner gown, having helped her mother entertain a dignitary of the Northern Guild, the first of many engagements that had been postponed, and postponed again during the last week, and the growingly conspicuous absence of Queen Locasta. The man's simple meeting had been embellished to a full dinner, as compensation for the lord's willingness to wait without raising a vocal fuss.

Az wasn't surprised that she found the entire thing taxing; while the man was perfectly all right, and nothing more was required of her than to answer a direct question, it was just too soon to be pretending she hadn't been imprisoned for almost four days.

She'd ordered a hot bath, and now sat just outside the balcony doors, brushing her long hair and letting the sounds of the city distract her. When someone knocked on the door, she wasn't surprised to see that it was Jeb. She stood when he entered, though she didn't have to. Just the sight of him sent her spinning back to the arboretum and a few stolen moments... unbelievably hot kisses, the feel of his mouth dragging along her skin... not that it had gotten them very far. He still looked a little angry with her.

"Did you come to say goodnight?" she asked, letting a faint tinge of hopefulness show through in her voice.

Jeb lowered his chin slightly. "No, I picked up a double shift. I'll be outside your door all night."

She almost glowered at him, at which he seemed almost to relax. "Why would you do that?" she asked, not wanting to sound suspicious, but she found it was hard not to be after what had happened in the arboretum.

He shrugged his shoulders with the grin of a born troublemaker. "I wasn't gonna be doing any sleeping tonight, so I figured I'd sit outside the door of someone else who wasn't gonna be doing any sleeping, either."

Az's lips settled into a firm, unamused line. "And why won't I be sleeping?"

His grin didn't break. "That's up to you, my lady. I just need you to to promise me one thing."

She laughed, louder than she'd meant to. "And what's that?" Despite herself, her lip was sent trembling.

"This stays a secret."

Whatever she'd been expecting, it wasn't that. Whatever defenses had been thrown up when he'd come into the room, now they were gone. She bit into her lip to stop it from quivering, speaking with a clear voice that was and wasn't her own. "This stays a secret," she repeated, realizing with the words that it was the only way that it could be.

With her magic, she bolted the door; the sound of the lock threw him into action. She'd barely lowered her hand and he had crossed the room, running to her and grabbing her neck in his hands; he kissed her forcefully, pent up emotion pouring into her, feeding her flames. Hungrily, she fed off of the life he breathed into her mouth with each desperate kiss.

He walked her backwards, undoing the buttons on the back of her dress as he guided her. Az smiled, glancing over her shoulder, too nervous to leave herself so completely in his hands. "You're not scared?" she asked him.

Jeb stopped, his hands fumbling on her buttons. "You're not gonna blast me again, are you?" he asked carefully, thinking back to the morning's excursion to the arboretum; he'd grabbed her from behind in surprise, and with a shriek, she'd hit him in the chest with her magic that had knocked the breath out of him. Needless to say, it had killed the mood.

Az smiled; she walked backwards by herself, managing to gracefully step up onto the platform in full reverse; her knees hit the edge of the mattress. "No, I'm not going to blast you again," she said. "And I told you, it was an accident." Her smile widened as he walked towards her once again, this time managing the buttons and pushing the dress down over her shoulders. His mouth attacked her neck, exploring but never marking.

Az raised an arm above her head and snapped her fingers. The lights went out.

Hours later, she slept peacefully in her bed; Jeb had returned to his position in the hallway so he wouldn't be missed. It was around midnight when Ambrose came walking up purposefully, a smile plastered from one corner of his face to the other.

"They're on their way home," he said excitedly. "I mean, on their way to Central City. I mean, DG and Cain. The princess and your father." Glitch clarified every sentence with a further explanation, until there was no doubt who he'd been talking about, not that Jeb would have taken the first statement as possibly meaning anything else.

Jeb's face broke into a tired smile. "News from Andrus?"

Glitch nodded. "Yeah. I don't know what went on out in those woods, but Andrus is hauling three prisoners to the Tower, and apparently DG knocked herself into a magical coma." Glitch stopped, tilting his head to the side. "Makes sense though, with what the furball said... now, what did the furball say again?"

"I'll wake Azkadellia," Jeb said, and as he turned towards the door, he winced, realizing he'd inadvertently used her given name, and not her title. Glitch, though, lost in thought, didn't notice the infraction. Instead, his bemused expression slipped into one of concern.

"No, don't wake her," he said softly. "She needs to sleep, and if you woke her now, she wouldn't sleep until DG was safe inside the palace."

Jeb turned back to the advisor. "How long until they're in the city?"

Glitch shook his head. "It'll be at least second sunrise, maybe longer. They were picked up by the transport vehicles Az sent a couple of hours ago. Transmissions are bad out on the road, they just got through to Communications. It's quite a bit of traveling still, though."

Jeb laughed quietly, remembering the hours spent after escaping the underground prison. "You don't have to tell me."