Disclaimer: Daine, Numair and the rest of Tamora Pierce's characters, places and things belong to her. I'm just borrowing them. :) I made up the Sailan Isles and their people, fuelled by way too much caffeine!

A/N: Huge amounts of fluff in this chapter. I'm warning in advance! It's also a bit shorter. My exams are over, yay, so I have lots of time for fanfiction. And sleeping. Thank you all so much for the reviews! I'm really glad that most people like the story so far. Again, if anything's totally off, I really appreciate being told so I can stop annoying people with mistakes! :)

...................................

Footsteps resounded in the hallway outside Daine's room, and she lifted her head to stare hopefully at the door. When it didn't obligingly open to reveal a tall lanky figure, she flopped back on the bed and released an impatient gust of breath. It was almost the midnight hour, and she hadn't seen Numair since he'd left with Daionarus. They'd been given separate chambers, of course, but that fact had never stopped them before. Daine smiled faintly. She was now quite adept at sneaking around darkened corridors, and Numair was yet to bear the separation for longer than thirty minutes.

Until tonight. Rolling over, she propped her chin in her hand and frowned moodily. It'd been hours, and either he was talking the poor Elder's ear off, or he was avoiding her. Her frown became a scowl. She was well- acquainted with her love's stubborn nature, but he was being fair stupid about Jardan. She barely knew the mage, and besides, nobody saw her making such a fuss when they visited Carthak and Varice's perky blonde head popped up, did they? Well. There had been that one incident with the cider-laced tea... Seeing as how there was no one around to witness it, Daine allowed herself an amused snicker. Watching the tipsy flirt whip her skirts over her head and jiggle around the banquet table had more than made up for having to endure the spectacle of an impressive...frontage being pressed against Numair's arm every five seconds.

So, mayhap she did allow jealousy to cloud her better judgment every so often. But at least she had some cause. Numair and Varice had a long history. She'd known of Jardan Treylrawne's existence for less than a day, and Numair was already being difficult about it. She could, of course, reassure him that he had nothing to worry about. She could tell him that she'd never loved any man before him, and would never need another. She could admit that she was counting the days until they were wed, despite her prior doubts about marriage.

There were, in fact, many things she could say to Numair Salmalin. And if he had deigned to show up, he might have heard some of them.

Gazing out the open window, Daine caught a whiff of the crisp night air and slid to her feet almost involuntarily, drawn to the peaceful dark. The breeze stirred her loose curls as she leaned against the stone sill, thinking and hesitating. Making up her mind, she moved in one swift action. Clothing dropped to the wooden beams with a soft rustle as a small sparrowhawk arched into the silver clouds.

Peering around at the sprawling township beneath her, Daine let out a soft trill, enjoying the freedom of her new form. Moving like this, so high that she felt her wings could scrape the stars, was a blessed relief from the irritations of her human existence. She loved most things about her life now, but there was nothing like night-flying for escaping the occasional bothers. The wind whistled through her feathers as she dove back towards the palace, its myriad windows glowing with candlelight.

Swooping skillfully around a northern turret, her keen eyes located what she was looking for – Numair's chamber. At least, she hoped it was Numair's chamber. If not, a palace-dweller was in for quite a shock.

With practiced ease, Daine soared toward the window, mentally thanking whoever had left it ajar. Slipping into the room, she smoothly changed from sparrowhawk form back into that of a girl – a slight, slender girl who, apart from the badger claw around her neck, was stark naked. Bare feet gently hitting the polished floor, Daine looked around, accustomed and completely indifferent to her state of undress. She opened her mouth to crossly demand what the dickens Numair thought he was doing, hiding in his room, before pausing abruptly. If he was hiding, he was awfully good at it. The room was clearly his. A tiny smile touched Daine's lips as she saw the scattered piles of books and papers, and the ink-smudged robe tossed carelessly over a chair. So, Numair's chambers, but where was Numair?

Planting her hands on her hips, she glared about the room as if it might tell her. At the feel of her bare skin, she started and reached absently for the discarded robe. Just as her fingers touched it, the door opened and its owner strode purposefully in. Numair looked up and smiled instinctively, his eyes meeting hers. In the next instant, they traveled farther south and his brows shot up in surprise.

"Where've you been?" Daine demanded impatiently, "I thought you'd come to my..."

Her voice trailed off in confusion as Numair flapped an arm at her to be silent. The tall mage turned with alarm to the doorway and spoke hurriedly.

"It's really very late, Daionarus, perhaps I could bring those papers to you in the morning?"

Barely suppressing a squawk of alarm, Daine bypassed the robe and dove for Numair's bed, burrowing under the covers. Hauling the blanket over her head, she fought down a fiery blush and fervently hoped that the Elder was feeling too fatigued for reading material.

At the sound of a muffled chuckle, suspicion overtook embarrassment. Slowly lowering the woolen mantle, Daine pushed her hair from her face and peered out. Grinning unrepentantly, arms folded arrogantly across his chest, Numair stood watching her. Glancing warily at the doorway, she saw that it was empty. Her horrified expression swiftly changed to a glower, which only increased the mage's amusement as he carelessly pushed the door shut.

"Not funny, Numair," Daine snapped, sitting up and pulling the covers to her neck. Her chin jutted pugnaciously as she glared at him. Still grinning heartlessly, Numair sat beside her on the bed and reached to tug at her primly-clutched blanket. He pressed a warm, loving kiss to her exposed collarbone but couldn't restrain his quiet laughter.

"I beg to differ, magelet," he returned, eyes alight with merriment. "I haven't seen you move so fast since that time Thayet tried to put ribbons in your hair."

Daine scowled anew at the memory. "That wasn't funny either. She wanted me t'wear a pink lace gown. I looked like a diseased pig."

Numair looked quickly down at his lap, shoulders shaking violently. Daine shoved him none too lightly and tried to maintain a look of outrage, but giggles were beginning to bubble from her own lips. It was irritatingly difficult to remain in a bad mood when he was determined to tease her out of it. Reaching for his hand, she inwardly sighed with relief. Having expected further questioning about Jardan, she was happy to see him in a better mood.

Smiling, Numair lifted his other hand to her hair, twining a wayward curl around one long finger.

"So what were you yelling about before that headlong scurry?" he questioned. "Don't get me wrong, you can jump into my bed anytime you like, but..." He winked at her with mock-lechery.

Grinning despite herself, Daine shook her head at him with feigned severity. "Honestly. Men. Only one thing on their minds."

Numair nodded sagely. "Sadly true."

"And I wasn't yelling," she said defensively, "I was asking where you've been. It's been an age since supper, and I thought that you'd have come to my room before now."

"Asking about my whereabouts, hmm? Very wifely," Numair said approvingly.

"I'm not your wife," she told him archly.

"Yet," he corrected, stroking his thumb over her knuckles.

"Yet," she agreed, relenting and smiling back at him.

He sighed, his good humour fading a little and seriousness seeping into his face. "I've been with Daionarus. I wanted to question him about the Blazewings."

He sunk into silence, and Daine waited for a few moments, before giving into impatience.

"He wouldn't tell you anything?"

Numair frowned. "Oh no, he was very forthcoming. Very helpful, very eager to impart his knowledge."

"And?" she probed.

He let out a heavy breath. "Well, it doesn't make for a pleasant bed-time tale, that's for sure. He was being quite literal when he spoke of the Blazewings' venom having the ability to rob people of their humanity. It seems that if you are unfortunate enough to suffer their bite, your mind and body are eventually taken over by the creatures' main instincts."

Daine shuddered as she remembered the Elder's words. "Competitiveness, selfishness..."

Numair nodded grimly. "Yes, but to a greater extent than I had imagined. The Blazewings' victims see anything and everything as their rival. Apparently the poison remains dormant for a brief time, so they appear as normal. When it begins to infect their body...nothing can stand in their way."

"They'll kill?"

"And enjoy every drop of shed blood. Every negative aspect of human nature comes into play, and emotions...like love...are seen as weak and pitiful. The victim takes particular pleasure in destroying those who love them. They...laugh at their anguish and confusion."

Colour leaching from her face, Daine searched his eyes. "They've experienced it, then? It's happened to someone here?"

Hand tightening around hers, Numair nodded, his gaze fixed on hers. "Yes. It has. Apparently...apparently the last person to be bitten by a Blazewing was Jardan Treylrawne's betrothed."

Daine's breath left her in a heavy gust. "Kyria." It wasn't a question.

"He told you?" Numair asked sharply.

She shook her head. "No, it's just...no."

They sat in silence for a moment, before Daine turned a slightly shaky smile on him. Her face was devoid of any amusement or buoyancy.

"I'm beginning to think Carthak might have been a better bet."

Numair leaned forward and rested his forehead against hers. "It'll be alright, sweet."

She wrapped her arms around his neck, and held on tight. Somehow, when Numair told her that, she believed him.

Nuzzling her neck gently, he lightly kissed her jaw. "Of course, you really are going to have to stop wandering about naked," he teased, in more blithe tones. "We may be an easy-going lot in Tortall, but the Sailans could be more uptight."

Daine pulled on his horsetail, but didn't lift her head from his shoulder. It was too comfortable.

Stroking the hair at her temples, Numair smiled against her skin. "Didn't anybody ever teach you that it's dangerous to wander into men's bed- chambers unclothed?"

She pursed her lips and pretended to think. "I don't know. I'm not sure that I remember that particular lesson. You're my teacher, remember?"

He pulled back, a thoughtful crease between his brows and a smile tugging at his lips. "Oh, yes. I'd forgotten." He raised a pompous brow. "It's dangerous to wander naked into a man's bed-chamber. Don't do it again."

In an abrupt movement, Daine pulled free of his arms and stood, taking a few airy steps away from the bed.

"Well, in that case," she said solemnly, a grin threatening to break free, "I'd better go and find some clothing."

She took a few more steps, began to turn, and then shrieked with laughter as two large hands caught her around the waist and pulled her back on the mattress.

"On second thoughts," Numair informed her, "I've decided it's alright to wander naked around one particular man's room."

Daine smiled up at him serenely, her hands sliding to clasp his shoulders. "Oh, good," she remarked, "I'm sure Neal will be relieved to hear it."

There was a moment of stunned silence, before he growled and proceeded to punish her in the most delicious way possible.

..............................

Daine opened her eyes, and looked around. She was in a forest clearing. The air was very still, as if no breeze dared venture here. The canopy of trees towering above her cast sinuous shadows and she could hear the faint babbling of a brook. A branch cracked lightly behind her, and she jumped, spinning to face her assailant.

'Badger,' she said with relief, recognizing her guardian. Her body relaxed, but she waited with apprehension for his words.

'Hello Kit,' he said, his eyes smiling at her. He moved to her side with the easy grace of the divine. 'I'm sorry to disturb your slumber, but I have to speak with you.'

'About the Blazewings?' Daine asked quickly, hoping that he could lessen her uneasiness about the creatures, the Isles, this whole venture.

'The Blazewings,' Badger said heavily. 'Yes. They are one of many things to fear here. There is much danger, Kit, and you must be wary. They are not what they seem, the beasts. Many things are not what they seem.'

'They're mage-made, Badger. Do you know who's responsible?'

'I can only tell you to be very careful of whom you trust. Remember, Kit, things are not what they seem...'

..............................

Daine awoke with a start, wrapped in the safety of Numair's arms, her heart racing. Rubbing her hand over her chest, she turned slightly and looked into his peaceful face, so at odds with her own turbulent thoughts. Gripping her shaking hands together, she slowly laid her head back down against him. His chest hair lightly tickled her cheek and gentle snores reverberated in her ear. Usually the sound soothed her. Tonight, feelings of dread pulled at her stomach and throat. She stared straight ahead, eyes open and wide.

'Remember, Kit, things are not what they seem...'