Hunt7

The Hunt: Part 7
-ZibbelCoot



Disclaimer:
All Escaflowne characters, places and such are ©1996, ©1998, ©1999 TV Tokyo, Sunrise. English adaptation ©1998 AnimeVillage.com and the dub version they tried to pass off as anime belongs to Fox I guess. However, Zorya Pele, Syrun, Galese and the Celet group (yes I'm too lazy to type them out) are my characters and I'd appreciate it if you ask me before using them. Also the song (the english and translation) is also mine so please don't use it without asking!

Author's notes:
Same as last time, happens 2 1/2 years after Escaflowne: A Girl in Gaea.
Ack, I really didn't mean to leave the last part as a cliffhanger, or kill him off so soon. That is what I get for writing at two in the morning. Anyway, no more interludes from Van or Hitomi until, well, you'll see. And enter the fanart contest, come on, you know you want to...




Zorya stumbled backward, hitting the chest of the man she had just saved. How was she still standing? The wounded midsection was numb, as if her body refused to accept what had just happened. Its just a dream... just a dream...
The man behind her shouted, loud enough to awaken her dormant mind. The pain quickly flooded, her making her knees shake. Her attacker... he hadn't stabbed her... had he? She could feel the tears wishing to fall, to wet her skin and be rid of the pain, but it was too much. She couldn't cry, it hurt far to much to do anything...
The man behind her took advantage of her attacker's hesitance. She was pushed to the side, nearly thrown to the ground in the process. She could only watch in horror as the man she saved ran her attacker threw. Dark green eyes pleading with her before taking on the vacant stare that accompanied death's cold hand.
Zorya wobbled weakly as she held her hands to the wound. I... I saved the wrong one. As if on cue Dilandau turned, his face completely blank. To see him without any anger in his eyes, any bloodlust, any hate scared Zorya as much as the flames that threatened to overtake her.
he whispered, his lips barely moving. Absently Zorya watched as droplets of blood slowly dripped down his sword.
What? I saved you- she began, her mind growing fuzzy with each passing moment. Why was she still standing there even debating this with him? She needed a doctor!
I owe you nothing, Dilandau spoke in low tones, for her ears alone. Zorya's eyes fluttered closed, the pain blanketing every nerve in her mid section. The pain was almost unbearable. Come to us. We shall- Zorya's frowned, her brow wrinkling in concentration. It was a different voice, different from the one who had soothed her after the fire consumed her. It was the one that told her to save one of them.
No! No! she nearly cried out but fell to the rug instead. Her hands clutched at the ragged skin, blood pouring outwards into a small pool around her. An uncrossable moat, protecting the treasured goddess from any hero who might save her. No. I did that... why? Why?


Dilandau watched her, his face blank of anything one might classify as an emotion. Two bodies on the floor, one gone to march in the death walk and the other soon to join them. You're not the goddess, he mumbled, trying to find some sense in what had happened. His debt was paid, he didn't owe her, he could let it all end right that second.
No! She saved your life in exchange for her own! Make amends white dragon! I'm not a white dragon, I'm not like that cowardly excuse for a king, Dilandau spat, sheathing his bloodied sword.
You're weaker than him if you cannot rectify a life debt! the voice spat at him. No, I don't owe her. I don't owe her.
Zorya barely moved now, her chest rose and fell almost too slowly for Dilandau to even notice. I owe her nothing... nothing, his mind repeated over and over even as he took a few shaky steps forward.
He couldn't do this, no he wouldn't! He desperately fought against the voice that called to him. Why couldn't he fight it? no the voice couldn't be right! He knew what was right and... and... He took another step forward a grim look on his face now. She had spared is life, but why? He knew women were foolish and had barely any brains (compared to himself at least) but even this was more thoughtless than anything else he knew them to do.
Once more and then it is gone, his words deep and guttural as he couldn't believe he'd even said them. All he had to do was hand her off to someone else and then he'd be free. Free of her torturous eyes and face that haunted him everywhere he went.


The sorcerers waited impatiently as their backup came out of their trance and the heavy dark hood fell from their unruly hair. They sat their for a moment, doing nothing but simple breathing as they readjusted to being without the magic, without Syrun's spells. Paruchi questioned, the silence broken only by his voice and Syrun's quickened whispers.
It is done. She listened to my words and my words alone. Takaru won't be bothering you as well, their voice was hushed, as if they hadn't planned on their words and regretted what they brought.
Good, he was getting clumsy anyway, Garufo piped up as he rubbed his hands together. They were that much closer... That much closer to having the country of Celet and hiwero in their grasp!
It is a regrettable loss, but acceptable since she is dead. Kuaru bowed his head as he spoke. He did not appreciate such a useless waste of life. They could've used Takaru later, with the blood of the goddess to try and change the boy's future, to alter his fate and make him into a puppet king but, that option was gone forever.
No, not yet but he's wounded her enough. The person did not move at all, as if they were still in the trance.
The General finally let himself have his so called Foruma's voice sounded cold, even for his status. Kuaru looked at his fellow sorcerer and saw for the briefest of moments, grief, hate, even anger hidden in his dark eyes. It lasted but for a moment though, and Kuaru was forced to write ti off to a tick of torch light.
No... he did not strike the blow at all. H-he stopped, the person's voice sounded confused at best, alarmed and disheartened at the worst. All of the sorcerers' eyes turned on their helper for a moment, scrutinizing every aspect. Hadn't this person been the one to inform them of the general's tendencies early in their quest? They had weighed every action on this one person's words and now their own informant was questioning them self?
What's done is done. Garufo, Kuaru, you will need to collect the bodies. Dump the apprentice's in the moat. The fish shall have a feast by the morning's pale light. The goddess however, it must be handled carefully. Paruchi turned his back to them for a moment and Kuaru masked his look of disgust. Why was it he always got stuck with the dirty work? Collect all the blood that you can and bring her back here. The fire god may need more blood than she left in her.
Didn't we need-
Yes we need that as well. However we may need you to help us bring about the goddess of wings' gift, Paruchi's words were directed at the still dazed guide. Yes, that's what they were, a guide to the future.
In their excitement, or perhaps rush, no one seemed to notice Syrun's song was still being sung. Or that it increased in tempo with each measure to the point the sorcerers themselves may not have heard the song but a babble of words they could only obey and not understand.


She laid easily in his arms, lighter than he expected. This is pointless! I can't save her, I don't want to-
Pay the debt Dilandau Albatou! Or do you wish for the gods' wrath to chase you back to the barren lands? Dilandau silenced his own thoughts and started for the door. All he needed to do was find someone and give them her. He didn't have to sit and watch her heal.
Dilandau stopped as one boot's tip caught on Takaru's heavy robes. Is red eyes narrowed in hate and anger, even though the boy was already dead. The boy had been a fool, nothing more than a fool wishing for his own death the second he had slipped into the room.
And you're no better, he muttered. His eyes traveled to the face of the boy's last victim. She looked so serene, so calm even as what precious little blood she had left was pumped out by a betraying heart. Yes, she looked paler than normal, her ashen lips nearly matched the skin around them. His mind wandered and for a moment he was reminded of Celena when they were younger, and how she had looked like the legendary Draconians when she slept.
Dilandau should be glad he had his hands full with carrying Zorya, otherwise he may have brought one hand up to brush away one bloodstained strand of hair. A cloud passed over the double moons and for a moment the whole room was cast into darkness. Dilandau nearly shook himself as he realized her legs had dropped to the floor and he had oe hand in the air between her face and his body. He'd been about to... With a grumble of curses in frustration Dilandau put his arm behind her knees once more, his other arm already beneath the shoulders and neck.
He was not going soft. He would just give up the hunt completely when this was done. Yes, that was the wisest thing to do. She was too much of a distraction as it was already. Save her... save the goddess... I heard you the first time! Dilandau shouted, in effect silencing the voice. He could feel whatever presence it was retract, as if stunned Dilandau would dare scream at it.
His eyes went to her face once more, but the anger disappeared from the garner orbs as he watched her calm face once more. He closed his eyes, his lips split as a forced chuckle rang from them. You are much more troublesome than even that damnable dragon, he chuckled and began for the door again. He couldn't dare stop or look at her again, or else he might go into that trance like before...
The door opened easily as he gave it a swift kick, almost swinging off its hinges. He could hear voices and footsteps to his right, but he wasn't sure how far away they were. His head turned to the left and caught the light from a torch turning down a corridor. Hey! I command hat you come back here! he called, his feet already bringing towards it.
The light halted for a moment, then quickly sped away as he rounded the corner. His lips twisted into a grimace, Dilandau broke out into a faster walk. Was the person deliberately ignoring him? Oh, he'd teach them not to ignore a dragonslayer, let alone the General once he handed her over to them. Stop or you'll be thrown to the dogs! he shouted again as the light disappeared down another hallway.
With a grunt, Dilandau increased his own pace to a steady run. The voice from Zorya's corridor had silenced long ago and for a moment he wondered where all the guards were. After all this shit he wanted to have a little fun, and what was better than slicing open a drunken dimwitted guard?
Stop or I'll have you head as a- Dilandau skidded around the corner, focusing completely on the anger he felt towards the eluding light. His dark red boots skidding to a halt however as he saw what was down that particular hall. No insane servant was there, grinning like an idiot at having upset the dragonslayers' General. Dilandau's eyes scanned the dead end for a moment, wondering how he could've lost the light. There was a torch in a corner, its flame burning brightly but who had brought it there?


A bead of sweat ran down Syrun's forehead as he breathed a sigh of relief. Manipulating both the General's rage and the fire had almost been too much. He forced himself to calm down, to slow his breathing, he had to at least appear calm to the sorcerers.
He opened his pale eyes to watch the remaining sorcerers and their newest apprentice, though from how the person had manipulated Syrun's own song it suggested otherwise. He studied the cloaked figure, wondering why the sorcerers had bothered to bring yet another person into it. From how they had just acted with the death of that promising boy they seemed ready to shrug off any more without too much fuss.
You're expendable, just as Takaru was. Sister, was this right? One more will perish if they persist and I doubt any dragon could dare bear it.
the surprise not masked in his voice.
Get any guards or dragonslayers away from that area. We can't have them found, not now.
As you command, he said with a smile. He'd already taken care of the General, and hopefully that bastard knew what to do from there. Syrun closed his eyes and began to sing a different song, less urgent, less forceful. He missed however how the newest apprentice's lips moved, mimicking his words softly under their breath.


Dilandau kicked at the door once more with his boot. The infirmary was just around the corner, where they housed the worst of the soldiers. An almost smug smile pulled at his lips but he suppressed it, he had put a good majority of the injured in their himself. All of them were weaker than him, waker than his slayers. If I'm strong, then why am I doing this?
A maddened curse flew from his lips as he rammed his shoulder into the door, trying to ignore that thought. He was strong, he was the strongest here! Then why... Frightened cries rose from the room he'd just burst into. He could hear a man's gruff shouts and inquiries while a woman's alto had begun to wail and scream for her children. He ignored them all and stepped inside to the dark room, torch light from the hall his only guide.
Who the hell are you and what do you want?! a nearly hysterical voice screamed as someone else lit a candle. An angry bearded face materialized from the darkness, the candle's soft light doing nothing to the man's sharp features. Dilandau stepped into the candle's small illuminated area, his face mirroring the man's.
I am the General of the Dragonslayers, Dilandau Albatou.
B-b-b-but... Dilandau albatou?! W-w-what do you want? the healer's demeanor changed in an instance, going from a proud protective father to practically a pile of goo.
You are going to do exactly as I say.
Y-y-yes, Corele shut Werele up! he called over his shoulder. More candles were lit and he could see a grown woman clutching at two children, a boy who looked to be the elder and a little girl. W-w-what do you want me to do, General?
You are going to heal her. She cannot die, Dilandau snarled at him, pushing passed the healer into another room that he hoped could serve as an operating room.
She- Who General?
he barked and turned. His arms lifted her up slightly to show the healer his burden. He opened his mouth to bark something else at the healer when his dark red eyes actually caught sight of her. Whether it was the dark room or the flickering candle light, Zorya looked even paler than before.
He waited, watching for her chest to rise or fall with a breath and it didn't. He shook his arms, trying ot get her to move. She remained limp in them however, her body's heat steadily fading.
Lord Dilandau with all due respect she's far too gone-
I said you will heal her! he roared and dashed back at the man. The healer flung himself to the side, not wishing for an early death. Unlike the majority of this castle's residents, Dilandau thought with disgust as he removed his arm from beneath her legs. Her feet brushed the floor as her body fell to gravity's will and began to slump downward. Dilandau grabbed at the nearest body and pulled it close drawing his sword in the time it takes to blink. The little girl, Werele, whimpered the second her brain processed everything. Dilandau's other arm held Zorya close to him, keeping her from falling even as a dark blood continued to flow, slowly now, from her body. Or this one dies. He tapped the tip of his sword against the little girl's throat a maniacal smile now on his face.
The healer's mouth hung agape, as if not comprehending what had just happened. The woman was screeching and backing away into the darkness with her last child clutched to her chest. Whatever you say, just please, please don't harm her, the healer said as he bowed his head. Dilandau did not lower his blade however, and held the healer with an even stare. Take her into the other room. Corele... CORELE! Get me my things. I said now woman! Corofis can handle himself, the healer ordered his wife.
Dilandau followed the older man into the first room he'd been ready to storm into as the woman babbled something behind them. Dilandau kept the girl at his side, the blade at her throat. He hated doing stuff like this, hiding behind something. It was so... degrading and weak. He hated being weak, being anything less than what he'd worked for.


Werele remained still even though the strange man had lowered the blade. She looked at him and then to the girl on the table. The girl was sleeping, or so her tiny mind interpreted it as. I wonder if she'd like to play dolls when she wakes up? Werele's small hand went to rub at her eye, to push away the sleep picking at her brain.
All she knew was that he'd woken them all up and scared her mommy and daddy. She looked to her right where her brother was standing his eyes on the stranger. He looked like he was in a trance. Werele shrugged her small shoulders and held her doll to her chest tighter. She'd thought the man was going to use his sword on Andra, and she didn't want him to take away her doll.
Corele I need more cloth.
She's bled too much honey- her mother's soft voice whispered, her nervous eyes caught Werele's and the little girl smiled.
But... I can't-
She will live, the stranger spoke up, his voice dark and brooding. Werele's dark locks bounced slightly as she turned her head to watch him. She must be very special to him, just like Daddy is to Mommy, to bring her here.
Her parents went back to their frantic work of sewing and checking the girl's organs. Werele was quite content to place with Andra while se waited for her mommy to put her to bed. That is until the stranger picked up his sword again. It came dangerously close to Andra's dress and for a moment Werele wished she could just pushed it away. But her father had told her not to touch anything sharp, and the metal's edge definitely looked sharp.

I've sewn her up as best I can. I didn't see anything ruptured or punctured but...
the stranger's voice sounded like a wild dogs and the sword came closer to Andra's dress, making Werele let out a little gasp.
She's lost a lot of blood. I can't guarantee her past tonight.
The stranger stood up the sword still at Andra's middle. She looked up at his face, trying to see if he had listened to her daddy. The girl would wake up, her daddy was the best healer. Mister, my daddy's the best healer in all of Gaea. Your friend will wake up, don't worry, she said cheerily with a smile. The stranger looked at her with what an an adult would see as skeptical and confused but, he too broke out into a smile. A low laugh escaped his lips and he put his hand on her head and ruffled her dark locks.
That's right she had better wake up, the stranger said to her father before leaving the nervous and agitated family.
Wornoffisk, what are we going to do?
Pray. That's all we can do, was all her father said as Werele made her way over to the girl. She was wearing only a man's shirt with undergarments and her father's bandages. The smile still on her face, she place her tiny hand over the girl's.
Wake up soon, your friend wants to see you. She shook the hand gently for emphasis.
I want to be a dragonslayer when I grow up! her brother finally exclaimed as her mother ushered them off to bed.
I will hear none of that talk in this place! Do you hear me Corofis? You will be no such thing-
But he had such a cool sword and and he nearly got rid of Werele for me! he cried joyfully as his mother slapped his bottom.
No more talk of that! Now off to bed and if I hear you say one more thing Corofis.
All right mother, he said gloomily beside his sister. Werele looked back into the room once more, the torch light steadily getting darker and darker. She turned around at her mother's insistence. Her father already shutting the door to the room the girl was in.
Come on Andra we have to go to sleep so we can tell her all about her friend, she whispered to her doll softly as her mother's gentle hands tucked her blankets tightly around her.


Galese had fumbled with getting the outfit on but had succeeded none the less. It was bulky and hard to move in but that didn't matter. All that mattered was that she did not look like a princess anymore but more like her advisor. If only he got her message...
Galese ducked around a corner as two drunken guards stumbled passed her. Neither called out ot her to stop, that it was not a proper time for the princess to be up and about. A smile had barely pulled at her lips before she continued. Where had she old him to meet her, hadn't it been here? Oh why couldn't she remember the letter's place?
The soft tip tap of thick leather boots on the castle's stone alerted her to a possible intruder but as she turned to face them the blank look left her face as her eyes threatened to tear up.
You came back, Galese whispered in the darkened hallway.
Princess, you shouldn't be here now, someone might-
The princess grinned then, a sly and joyful grin. But the princess is in her chambers. Who would care about the affairs of her advisor, tromping around late at night?
You didn't-
I'd do anything to be with you my love, she nearly sobbed. Don't tell me he doesn't love me... he's in love with someone else and all my careful planning is for naught...
So would I. However if Lord Dilandau finds me I'm well, dead would be too light of a word, he whispered, his arms pulling her into an embrace. Galese sighed contentedly, and dared not move while his arms were around her. She was so safe in this embrace, so loved... You know that I love you, don't you Galese?
Yes Korent, I know you do. Her heart pitter-pattered excitedly as he said those words though. He really loves me... me, not the princess, not the throne, not the kingdom of Celet, me. Korent, if I could leave, don't ask how, but if I could and be free would you join me?
In a heartbeat. Zorya... I can't do that to her, but Korent... Why did I have to open my big mouth!?! Don't do anything foolish Galese like faking your own death. You can't leave Celet to your uncle alone.
But if I don't leave and abandon the throne they'll betroth me behind my back, even with my advisor helping me, Galese whispered as she felt his cheek rest upon her forehead.
We'll find a way, don't worry. If it takes a thousand lifetimes, we'll find a way. Galese closed her eyes, content to stay in his arms for the thousand lifetimes he spoke of; until as with any forbidden interlude soft footsteps were heard. Galese's eyes snapped open and Korent removed his arms from her gently. And so my princess, I'll leave you with a kiss. Galese, stunned by the noise and by her love's sudden move, remained silent.
Then like a phantom in the night, he disappeared just as another drunken guard walked passed her. You shouldn't be up Miss Pele, all sorts of ruffians are up and about and I can't guarantee your safety, e gently admonished her while Galese simply stood there.
Of course, how silly of me. I'm sure the princess will want to speak with me in the morning too. Thank you, she said with a genuine smile and darted off for her own, real chambers. She'd fooled a guard! Face to face! It could work... I could make it work. but can I do something like that to Zorya... Korent and I won't need a thousand lifetimes if I can do this.


Celena put a hand to her mouth as another yawn escaped her. How long had she been here? An hour? two? Seven? All she knew what that Dilandau had awoken her from her sleep with some very distraught and confused thoughts and she had rushed here. How did you live though it? With such a wound? What am I talking about, you must have the will to live. After all they say human will has the power to change anything.
Dawn's early light had begun to shine in through the room's small window and she groaned. Zorya was dead and the princess was stuck with no one as an advisor. Celet would spiral downwards and-
Who are you? the soft voice started Celena and she jumped in her seat. The voice's owner was not something to be frightened of as soon as Celena got a good look at them. A little girl, not more than seven, clutching at her doll, stood at the entrance to the room.
I'm Celena, she replied, purposely omitting her surname. After all the muttering she'd heard the healer do about Dilandau she didn't think it was wise to let him know she was his sister.
I'm Werele. Are you her friend too?

Like the man yesterday. They're special friends, Werele beamed as if she were the keeper of an important secret. Celena smiled and leaned back, ready to test her skills, just what did the little girl know?

The silver haired guy-
That incredible dragonslayer! a boy's voice suddenly piped up. Werele spun around her small round face indignant, well as indignant as a little girl could show anyway. Celena had to put a hand to her mouth to suppress the laugh she felt that wanted to escape.
Mommy told you not to talk about that!
But he was, with the sword that went whoosh and swish, the boy stood in the doorway now his hands moving as if he held the same sword in his hands. It was amazing!
Celena nodded her head, hoping the boy would leave them in peace. A smirk on the boy's face, which looked like he was trying very hard to imitate someone, he walked away still talking to himself about how wonderful being a dragonslayer would be. Now, what did Zorya's friend do?
Zorya? That's a pretty name. Almost as pretty as Andra, Werele brought up her doll to show Celena.
Yes, Andra is a very very pretty name but what did he do?

The stranger.
Werele looked at her for a moment as if Celena had grown three heads but then her eyes grew round as dinner saucers. Oh, him! Tee hee hee, she giggled, holding her doll to her face as if she were afraid of releasing that precious secret.

I can't tell you. You're not him or her. A look of frustration crossed Celena's face but only for a moment as she rewarded Werele with a kind looking smile.
But they know already and I do not, Celena tried to pull at the child's logic. There were two types of people she would always fail against in arguments and debates, the insane and children.
she lowered her voice as if making her decision. He brought her in and was holding her, you know like daddy does to mommy sometimes and I think their special friends.
Celena's face blanked, and she leaned back in her chair. The child had to be mistaken. Dilandau, sparing her life? That wasn't possible, especially the part about him carrying her to the infirmary's healer. But a child can't lie, not so earnestly... Werele come now, breakfast is ready!
I gotta go now, bye Celena!
Bye Werele, Celena half heartedly replied, her mind still processing that. Could Dilandau still think he had a life debt? If so then that was why...


Dilandau threw his blade against Shesta's with a vengeance, trying to forget what had happened. The debt was paid, he had nothing to worry about or think about. all that mattered was training to become stronger, to be the best to be- another slayer shouted and dilandau stopped suddenly.
Shesta was up against one of the training room's walls his eyes wide in fright. Beads of perspiration lined his brow as both he and Dilandau breathed in shallow short breaths. Dilandau's sword had been about to strike a mortal blow. Shesta weakly spoke up trying to pull him out of whatever trance he'd been in.
What is wrong with me? What happened... Dilandau took his free hand and slapped Shesta across the face and pulled his sword away. The tattooed blond fell to the floor without protest and simply held his cheek and nose. Do not show fear, you are not weak. If any of my dragonslayers are weak yo will be slain in battle. I will not tolerate fear or weakness in any of you, he barked at them, disturbed that he had nearly killed one with his own hands.
Perhaps you need some rest Lord Dilandau, Gatty spoke up next. He in turn received a slap across the face as well though it sent his skidding across the floor.
I know my limits better than any of you, Dilandau seethed. His eyes roamed over the remaining thirteen boys. Each had a look of confusion, surprise or distrust on their face. They think I've lost it... That I'm becoming weak. And I will not tolerate your worthless assumptions. Is that understood Gatty? The fallen slayer mumbled something nasal and Dilandau nodded in satisfaction. Do any of you wish to join Gatty or Shesta?
All vigorously shook their heads, each remembering the last time he had punished one of them. Still, sleep might be best, after all he was kept up because of her. Any thought of her made him remember how she looked, how pale and fragile she'd appeared. Why would the mystic moon appear for a mere mortal? He knew she wasn't the goddess but...
Lord Dilandau?
Continue with your exercises. I need to speak with the king, Dilandau pushed aside the dragonslayer easily. His upper body barely ached or showed any sign of fatigue from the two hours of sparring and practice. He put his sword back within its scabbard and picked up his dark red leather armor from the ground, where he had discarded it nearly two hours ago.
He threw the red piece over his shoulders, allowing to drape over them like a cloak instead of customarily fastening it to look like a shirt. He was too distracted, he did need rest. I expect a full report on this when I'm done, he called over his shoulder to Shesta and Gatty, both of whom were silent at his words.
He left the room at a fast pace, easily navigating the castle. He didn't' want to see that twit of a king. He wanted to be alone right now, to think. He'd freed himself of the debt, he didn't have to worry... Then why do I see her face?! Why is she where I go!? his mind screamed as he turned down a corridor and stopped. No, he wanted to go back ot his room, to his solitary room.
So engrossed his own thoughts, Dilandau barely noted that he'd gotten to his room without running into any guards or advisors. No one was bothering him, pestering him about himself or his slayers. Still even as he shut the door behind him he could see her face, just before she fell. Her dark red hair falling elegantly to just barely touch her shoulders. Her dark eyes pleading with him. Pleading to do what? He clutched at the dark leather armor, trying to pull it closed around him. He was so cold now, so alone...
He didn't need anyone. He didn't need his slayers, celena or even her. He needed no one, he'd be fine on his own. First and foremost he did not owe anyone anything. He couldn't owe her anything, he didn't want to owe her anything. He collapsed into a chair, not bothering to pull back the drapes to let in the just rising sun.
Dilandau whispered in the solitary darkness of his room.