Disclaimer: I own none of it but Dami, the plot and Quilter's street.

A/N: REVIEW! PLEASE! Yeah, that's all I gotta say except HAPPY NEW YEARS!



It had taken the three of them to finally find Dami the next day and ask her to join them in meditation. Whatever arguments she and Pasco had the previous day had been long forgotten, Pasco even seemed to have a growing respect for the young girl in consideration of her neighborhood.

It was obvious that Dami had meditated before. She only encountered difficulties when she attempted to switch from her normal eight counts of breathing in, holding and exhaling to their seven. When she had to try to picture herself as something very small, she chose a glass. For her first time, she was quite good at pulling her magic in.

She got up and was heading for the door when Sandry said, "Dami, I have one question for you before you go."

Dami turned to face her from her place in the doorway, with one foot already out the door. Though she was a bit interested, she gave Sandry a pleading look to ask quickly, lest she be late for her class.

"What was your uncle's name?" Sandry asked. The question of his identity had plagued her all night.

Dami thought about it an anxious moment. "Nurhar Dihanur," she replied, then ran down the stairs to her class.

They all were immediately glad that Dami had left the room so that she could not see their reactions to this news. Sandry became crestfallen to the point of despair. Pasco stared after Dami in shock, not moving and hardly breathing either. Yazmìn looked at the two of them sympathetically as they both began to shake their heads in denial.

"But-she can't be-" Pasco sputtered, too dazed by the news to make any full sentences at the moment.

"Why did it have to be him?" Sandry asked herself. "There are plenty of people in the world. Mila, why did it have to be him?"

Yazmìn ushered Pasco onto the dance floor and began putting him through stretches and warm up routines in an attempt to get him mind off of Dami's uncle and the past events. Though his body went through the motions he was now so very used to, his mind remained in utter shock.

Thoughts Sandry thought had long since vanished resurfaced from the depths of her mind. The making of the unmagic net which had tried to take her while she was making it. The actual net that they had used to lure the Dihanurs in and had trapped them along with their mage and Pasco who they held as a captive. She had managed to trick them and rescue Paso, meanwhile spinning the net into a cord and killing them. They had been so tainted with unmagic that they couldn't have escaped. She could almost see the blood on her hands.

Her uncle came by at lunch to take them all out for lunch, with flowers for Yazmìn. Sandry and Pasco had much lost their appetites and graciously declined. Seeing that the Duke was growing worried, Yazmìn assured him that they would be all right and the pair left arm in arm.

"I can't believe that he was her uncle," Sandry finally said, breaking the tense silence that had fallen on the room. "If I hadn't killed him-"

""If you hadn't, there'd be a lot more dead Rokats," Pasco countered quickly. If he left her to brood much longer she'd be in a depression for days. "That poor chuff they were usin' as a mage too, prob'ly." He waited for her to acknowledge what he said, then continued. "I been thinkin', them Dihanurs had deep pockets, right?"

Sandry considered it a moment. Nodding, she said, "Deep enough to buy dragonsalt."

"So, what's a bit of gold between family?"

It took a moment for the realization to show on Sandry's face. "Dami," she said, her voice almost a whisper. "And if they know she has that power."

"So it's settled, we go warn her."

"No," Sandry said sharply. "I'm not going to scare her with this until we know for certain. This could all be just talk and nothing more."

"But-" he tried to protest.

"Go ask Osa and any of the harriers if they've heard anything. I'm going to go and contact a few of my friends." She was out the door before Pasco had a chance to say anything more.

Sandry raced home, Oama and Kwaben close behind her as she went to the Duke's Citadel. She remembered little of the ride, worried for her young temporary young disciple and excited at the prospect of finally being able to talk to her friends again.

Nearly knocking over a few of her uncle's servants, she apologized and went to her darkened room. Making a gesture with her arms, the curtains flung open to shed light as she searched for her first attempt at spinning. She found it, a small circle of string with four lumps in it, one representing herself and each of her friends.

Hello? She called to them tentatively stretching as far and as hard as she could to mind-speak with them. Are you guys there?

Sandry? Daja's mind-voice asked.

This had better be important, said Tris' sleepy mind-voice.

Duchess, what brings you to our minds? Briar asked good-naturedly.

Overjoyed at hearing them again, she briefly told them the events of the past few days, explaining about Dami and her concerns for her and her newfound suspicions about the Dihanurs. Have any of you heard anything?

Niko pointed out the Dihanur place about a month ago, Tris offered. He mentioned something about it being too quiet and that they might be up to something.

Frostpine and I passed a strange couple a couple weeks back, Daja said. They mentioned the Rokats and finishing some job, but I didn't think much of it.

It's all makin' sense now, Briar said. My old, erm, friends in the underworld were talkin' 'bout some weird stuff involvin Dihanurs. That couple was prob'ly the one was sent to finish killin' the Rokats. They're gonna try and get that girl, 'cause they knew the outcast Dihanur had a daughter with some magical talent. They'll use her like that other one.

You mean you're back in the sewers? Tris asked distastefully.

I really don't want to be you when Rosethorn finds out, Daja agreed.

Thank you for everything, Sandry said. I have to go to Quilter's street to warn Dami.

You are not going there, Tris and Briar said at once, insistence dominant in their mind-voices.

What's Quilter's street? Daja asked. Tris and Briar readily sent her the basic idea, though somewhat embellished. You are not going there. It'll be dark by the time you get there. Tell your uncle now and warn Dami tomorrow.

Sandry finally agreed, though she desperately hoped that Dami would still be there tomorrow.