Crutchy was getting annoyed. He wasn't really enjoying the way Kris was treating him. He was used to having next to no rights, but he hated being ordered around. Passionately.

Kris, who was walking in front of him, turned around. "Do you think you could walk a little quieter?"

"Oh, sorry," Crutchy retorted sarcastically. "They didn't teach me how to levitate back in New York."

"Did anyone teach your mother not to drink while she was pregnant?"
Crutchy bristled, knowing Kris's quick mind and even quicker tongue had once again outdone him. And he was sure his mother hadn't been an alcoholic. I hate him, Crutchy thought sulkingly. He's a jerk. Why did I ever agree to come with him?

--

They didn't see the soldiers until it was two late. Fortunately, all that fighting on the street paid off. They had the three soldiers on the run within five minutes. None of them had suffered a wound from the swords the soldiers had carried. Or so they thought.

Blink hefted one of the heavy swords that was now laying on the ground. "Hey, Snipes, think you can lift this?" When Snipes didn't answer, Blink turned around and saw his friend sitting on the ground. "Snipes, you can't be tired—" That's when he noticed the pool of blood Snipes was sitting in. His own blood. Blink put down the sword and went quickly to his friend's side. Dropping to one knee, he said with concern, "Hey buddy, you okay? No, that was a stupid question. Where'd they get ya?"

Snipes pulled up his shirt a little to expose a long gash in his stomach. A long, deep gash, barely keeping his vital organs in. "Blink, when you see Crutchy again, tell him I'm sorry, and that I'll miss him."

Blink bit his lip. "Naw, that's fine, you can tell him."

By this time the others had noticed and were watching from a distance. Snipes's next words were faint, and Blink had to lean down to hear them. "Give him this." He reached into his blood soaked pocket and pulled out a twenty dollar bill.

"Snipes, you can't just—"

It was no use. Snipeshooter was dead.

--

Gardrania hadn't known Snipes very well, but she still felt bad. She felt horrible for Blink, who had known him for a lot of his life, as well as Mush and Race. Blink sat in a corner, his eyes red and swollen, making an effort not to cry. She went over to him. "You were good friends with Snipes?"

"Yeah."

She opened a bag that she had brought along and took out a glass bottle. It had perfectly painted dragons all around it, although Blink had never seen this kind. Large, green, fire-breathing dragons. Like the ones in those ridiculous fairy tales that he had always scoffed at.

"What's this for?" he asked.

"I've owned this since forever. I didn't think it would be right to just leave the—Snipes here, so I thought maybe you'd like to have him cremated."

"You mean—burn him?"

Gardrania nodded.

"Yeah," Blink said slowly. "I think it's a good idea. Let's do it."