Disclaimer: I don't own anyone except Zircah and the other people you haven't heard of.

A/N: Good grief. I am so horribly sorry this took so long. This story is fast losing steam. But it was my baby for so long that I refuse to abandon it. So I've been working very sluggishly. And here it is, for you.

Chapter Sixteen: Healing Dreams

Sarra didn't think she would ever get over the fact that even in the Divine Realms it occasionally grew uncomfortably hot and there was nothing she or anyone else could do about it. She pushed blond strands away from her face, tucking them behind her ears and adjusting the brim of the wide straw hat she wore. It was ridiculous, really. She wondered idly why mortals worshipped the gods. Apart from it being the natural order of things, there wasn't a great deal of benefit in it for them. She smiled slightly as she trailed her fingers through the warm earth, cupping her hands gently around a new daffodil bulb. She could encourage its growth if she really wanted to, but somehow she felt that was cheating. Part of the fun of gardening, and the skill behind it, was encouraging things to grow without magic. She tucked the bulb carefully into the soil and stood up, dusting her hands off on her apron.

She turned around to find her husband watching her, the hot sun making his tawny skin gleam green in mottled patches. She smiled at him. "It's so hot today. I didn't think you'd be hunting."

Weiryn, god of the hunt, shrugged. "Later, perhaps. When the sun goes down."

She walked to him and put her arms around his neck gently. "Lazy thing." She rebuked him with a smile. He in turn wrapped his arms about her waist, shaking his head as though she displeased him. She had long grown used to his taciturn nature, and she took off her hat and set it on his head with a childish grin.

He brushed it away almost immediately, a frown appearing on his features. Sarra's face showed her surprise, but he raised his hand from where it had lain on her lower back and pointed into the sky. She turned around and squinted determinedly after the line of sight he had given her.

Her eyes fixed upon a large, oddly shaped object in the sky. She smiled suddenly. "Is that Zircah? What's she carrying?"

Weiryn's face betrayed no such happiness. "No… it's another Stormwing. I can't see what it carries, not yet."

They both waited, sun beating down on them, as the Stormwing flapped wearily closer. Then Weiryn made a sound low in his throat. "Sarra, shape a nest… make a new room, with a nest in it. I think this new Stormwing carries Zircah."

Sarra had known the female Stormwing for long enough to know that this would never happen unless Zircah was grievously injured. She hastened to do her husband's bidding. Weiryn stood alone, waiting and watching as the details of the carrier Stormwing became clearer to him. Almost certainly male, long blond hair was easily visible from the way it caught the sunlight. Not a great deal more than this could be ascertained from such a distance, apart from the fact that the male was tanned and well-muscled. He carried Zircah in a golden net, and he flew as though greatly wearied. Weiryn had no doubt that this was so; wherever he had flown from could not have been close, and the added weight of another pair of steel wings could not have been an easy burden.

He raised an arm in greeting to the blond Stormwing, and pointed to the softest area of long grass. The male seemed to understand this, as he began to steadily drop his altitude. He flew in an unsteady glide that originally aimed for the grass but had to be redirected every dozen yards as Zircah's weight dragged him down. Nevertheless, he lay down his bundle with more care than Weiryn had ever seen in a Stormwing before flapping a few yards away and all but nose-diving into the ground himself.

Sarra came running from the house as the male's golden net dissipated out of sheer exhaustion. Weiryn beckoned to her and together they struggled to pick Zircah up as the male lay panting in the grass. The slight hill up to the house and the new Stormwing eyrie nearly defeated them, burdened as they were by two enormous steel wings and a human body, wasted as it was by illness. Sarra's face paled at what she no doubt perceived as a horrendous injury done to body and spirit. Weiryn left her by the nest when they had wrestled Zircah's unresisting form into it, to do what she could while he spoke to the male.

He had fought his way to his feet again, wings held heavy as near to his sides as he could manage. Their tips dragged at the ground as he crabbed toward the house in an awkward, tired skip. Weiryn shook his head at the male, who looked rather annoyed, but resigned. He took a few deep, steadying breaths and asked, "Will she be all right?"

Weiryn stared at him for a few moments. There was a level of concern in his voice, rare in Stormwings. "Are you her mate?" He felt at once amused and slightly indignant. There was a time when Zircah would have informed him of everything. Perhaps no longer, if he had not even been told about her taking a mate… but the expression on the male's face told him that his assumption had been wrong before flustered words could reassure him.

"No! No, I'm not, I'm just… I'm Rikash Moonsword of Stone Tree Nation." He said, trying to regain some semblance of dignity, and his breath. "She has been a captive of Emperor Ozorne of Carthak for some weeks, and I believe he had a harmful spell upon her. Ozorne was turned to a Stormwing, but the effects of the spell linger still…" Rikash shifted slightly, and it was plain to Weiryn that no matter how he might deny it, he was deeply concerned for Zircah.

The god of the hunt nodded slowly. "The Green Lady will care for her. Go, and tell her of this spell, and what has happened to Zircah. It may help her to heal faster."

Rikash nodded and hobbled awkwardly to the house, cursing the slope that made his walk that much more difficult. When he finally reached the new stable, he hopped up on the half-door, leaving deep gouges in the wood when his heavy wings dragged across the surface. Sarra glanced up from where she had been peering over Zircah's prone body, but Rikash wasn't interested in the goddess. He hopped down from the door and crossed the floor to settle himself on the edge of Zircah's nest, out of Sarra's way.

She looked at him with sympathy for a moment. "What happened to her?" She asked softly, much more emotion detectable in her voice than there had been in Weiryn's. Rikash looked at her wearily, then spilled out the whole sorry tale from beginning to end. She listened intently until he was done, then pursed her lips and thought hard, both hands straying to press lightly on her temples. Rikash's gaze strayed back down to Zircah.

Sarra opened her eyes again, and smiled, resting both hands lightly on the top edge of Zircah's lax wing. "Well, I'll do my best for her. She shouldn't need anything more than a restorative and time to recover, since Ozorne's magic should have lost all power when he was changed."

Rikash nodded, the goddess' quiet certainty reassuring him slightly. "I will watch her, if you do not object." Sarra's lips twitched. Somehow she got the impression that her disapproving was not going to budge him from the room unless she got out the fire and brimstone.

"No. It would be good for her to have someone close to her. Since she is a Wild Mage." She said calmly. "However, this is a one-Stormwing nest." Sarra raised her hand and made a tugging motion. A thick wooden bar slid obediently out of the wall, and Rikash settled onto it gratefully. "Make yourself comfortable, and I'll do what I can for Zircah."

She bustled away to mix up a potion. When she returned, Rikash was deep in exhausted slumber, his face unguarded in sleep. Now that his control was gone, she could see the drawn, haggard cast to his features. Sarra smiled, gratified by how worried the male appeared to be, and went to work.

*

Time passed. At the end of the first week, Zircah's colour had improved, and her breathing was no longer laboured and painful. Sarra stopped really fussing over her then; she was healing more rapidly than anyone she had ever seen. On a human (even on another Stormwing, she supposed) she would have expected months on end of constant maintenance before such a marked improvement. But it seemed that Zircah, even asleep, was determined to regain health.

"Lift."

Rikash lifted up his left foot and balanced on his right obediently as Sarra dusted around him. He switched feet when she asked, and went back to watching Zircah like a hawk.

"You should go outside for a while." Sarra commented, flinging wide the shutters. "She doesn't have the nightmares any more, you know. I hardly think she'll be pleased if she wakes up and you can barely fly because you've been idle all this time."

Rikash gave her a look. Sarra shrugged. "Well, suit yourself, Rikash. But really, don't you think your queen would like to hear—no? All right then." She quit the additional room quickly. Rikash went back to staring at Zircah.

True, Barzha and Hebakh would probably want some sort of report. True, there were probably things happening in the mortal realm, and elsewhere in the Divine Realms, that he would be better off knowing about. But Sarra had said that having someone close to Zircah would help, presumably because of the Wild Mage's tenuous connection to all of those around her. And if it would help her to have him there, then he wasn't moving.

*

Two days later, the weather in the Divine Realms was decidedly soggy. Sarra had closed both shutters and the door in the additional room, but before she had managed, Rikash had had to block off the window with his broad wings so that the howling squall outside wouldn't chill Zircah.

Now he dripped dry on his perch at one end of her nest, the room lit softly with the light of several oil lamps. Thunder boomed.

Rikash actually quite liked storms, particularly in the Divine Realms. Compared to the usually baking heat of the Stonemaze, the soothing rush of water from the skies was pleasant, seeping away the vicious heat of the day. However, while the rain made him complacent and sleepy, he had always noticed that Zircah had seemed more active on those days of rain.

Thunder rolled, and she shifted slightly in her nest, brows knitting. Rikash blinked. This was the second time she had moved today. The first day in weeks he had seen movement from her that was not in protest at the nightmares behind her eyelids. He held his breath for a few moments, and then chastised himself for being stupid.

"…Zircah?"

That sounded idiotically soppy, and if she was at all awake or coherent, she would tell him so.

"Bladewing, wake up."

That sounded better.

The expression on her face became one of refusal, and the tip of her tongue snaked out to lick her dry, chapped lips. She shifted and sighed in frustration. Rikash very nearly grinned.

"Bladewing, are you awake?"

Very slowly, her face softened, and then became her usual mask. Her eyes opened, and she stared at him blearily for a moment before wincing even at the dim light. Rikash did grin, then, pure unadulterated relief loosening his control.

"It lives!" He declared, perhaps too loudly. Zircah opened her eyes again and frowned at him in puzzlement.

"I had… the strangest dreams." She muttered in a voice gravely with disuse and thick with sleep, slowly relaxing her sensitive eyes as they got used to the light in the room.

"I wager you did." Rikash said, ruffling his damp wings. "Ozorne had you under a spell and locked you up in his menagerie with Queen Barzha and Lord Hebakh." Zircah stared at him blankly for a few seconds. Then,

"That insolent bastard!" She hissed forcefully. Rikash smirked.

"Oh, don't worry about him. Barzha and Hebakh have no doubt taken care of him by now." He said cheerily. "Probably cut off his wings and beat him with them."

"…wings…?" Zircah asked, confused. Then she made a soft moaning sound. "Oh no… then I dreamed truly after all. He isn't dead, but hiding."

Rikash's face fell, but only by a little bit. "Oh."

"Oh? Is that all you have to say? And where have you been that you didn't know about this?" Zircah demanded, her voice going slightly squeaky at the sudden over-use. Rikash gave her a look that was at once amused and… something else.

"I've been watching you, Bladewing. You've been out of action for nearly three weeks in the Divine Realm." There was something in his voice she hadn't heard for a long while, either. The sort of softness he had used when conversing with Maura of Dunlath. That same kindness.

"…oh." She said in a small voice, suddenly looking a bit lost.

Rikash was in three minds at this point. One of them was laughing hysterically and teasing her until she got up and tried to clobber him with one of her wings. Another was sensibly hobble-walking out to inform Sarra and Weiryn that their patient had awoken.

The third was wandering around, completely lost and befuddled somewhere in her cloudy blue gaze, and was of no use to anyone.

After a few moments, Rikash got a hold of himself. "Sarraaaaaa!"

~*~

A/N: *weeps* I am so, so, SO SORRY about the length of time it's taken me to get this out. I swear this fic will be updated more often since I'm on holidays now! T_T Thanks to Wyrren, who has been subtly and dutifully pestering me at random intervals. Please review, if only to tell me to get my lazy ass in gear.