Just a quick note: Anyone who has any really involved (or just plain lots of) questions regarding the story and the like, I'd prefer it if they would email them to me, rather than ask in reviews. Small questions are fine, but anything else is taking up quite a bit of room. Not that I mind answering questions; I prefer to get them answered and cleared up so that the reader can understand anything I haven't made clear enough. It's just to make it a bit easier for me when I sit down to write up the Q&A bit before each chapter.

All right. There's only...oh crap. See what I mean about the questions?

GundamWingFanatic90- What note is the story going to end on? I'd consider it a good one. Of course, I can't speak for everyone, but...

Dragonlord- Oh boy...

How could it be that a stone switched places with a heart? I'm not sure. Ask Ark; he was the one who did it, not me.

No, there never actually was a noticeable form of communication between the dragoons and their spirits during the game. It was an element that I added to make the story work. In this particular case, I only extended it to Dart and Ark, because really, there was no need for anyone else to do it.

As far as Dart's little 'allergy' to wingly magic, well, put it this way: Just because someone is allergic to dogs, that doesn't mean that dogs are allergic to them, see what I mean? It's a bit more complicated than that, but that about sums it up.

1) That's more or less dealt with in this chapter.

2) Could be. Might not be. That a spoiler, so I'm not saying anything :P

3) Hmm...if that were the case, it would be similar to Cai's: they either weren't ready to accept a spirit, or the spirit wasn't ready to accept them. But really, I don't expect to see them flying around in armor any time soon, so it's rather irrelavent.

4)I suppose it could, but I brought Mariko into the story with the intention that she'll remain a mute. I like mutes; they're rather challenging to write for.

5) The dragoons will get more power as the story progresses. They just need some time.

6) Oh boy. This one's tricky. In order to explain this, you have to understand the way I look at the dragoon's using magic. The actual power they use when casting a spell is not their own, since all of their power comes from the spirit. Therefore, it stands to reason that the spirits have all of their possible power from the outset. It's the characters that grow and progress, and as they develop its the amount of power they can handle that changes. At level one, they can only handle a small amount of power, so that's all they use. At level 5 they can handle all of the power, so they put that to use. Zion doesn't have what you could call a fine understanding when it comes to using magic; he just grabs what he can hold, releases it, and hopes for the best. He could sense the amount of power the spirit held and tried to reach for it, but since he couldn't handle that great a flow of magic, the spell collapsed before it even really began.

???????- Meh. I'm not unduly worried. If Sephiroth does happen to appear on my doorstep, I'll just drop a big fat pile of my personal life on him. That's enough to stop anyone :P

Chaos 13- The pictures of the new dragoons will be posted on deviant art as they're finished. As it stands, I'm rather occupied with my collage art portfolio (as I'm continuously ranting on about), so that's a bit higher on the priority list. The poster-style image is actually going to be included in the portfolio, so I'm taking my time and doing it well rather than risk goofing up because I rushed it. As to the draconics, they belong to one of many stories that I have floating around in the back of my head. I never actually wrote the story, because I was never able to construct what I thought was a solid enough plot. I might come back to them someday, but for now they're pretty much on the back burner.

Silverwing- -.-; People love this question, don't they. I've said it before, and I'll say it again: it happens when it happens. I'll tell you this much: wait until we're back in Millie Seasue. Then we're getting close. Nova and Garren will show up in due time; they've got their own problems to worry about, considering Garren couldn't find his way out of a wet paper bag....

I don't really know how many chapters I have left. We'll see what happens, ne? XD

Freefall- O.o Dart/Solana? -runs for the hills-

Gegachxis- Zion/Kaelin? –keeps on running-

Ragnarok's POV:

It had been a chill night. A thin blanket of wood smoke hung over the city, filling the air with the sharp smell of burning cedar and pine. The sun had risen just above the rooftops but it brought no warmth to the air; Dart's breath still gathered in little clouds like puffs of smoke wherever he breathed, and frost still slicked the cobblestones where the street lay in shadow. The few people who bothered venturing out into the crisp morning were for the most part workers and housewives, the former wearing heavy dyed wool overcoats over their smocks while the latter clutched flannel shawls and woven baskets as they hurried to pick up the morning's groceries. Within a few hours the sun would heat the air enough that the woolens would no longer be necessary, but until then people hurried about with their extra clothing, determined not to feel the chill.

Dart walked along the storefronts, the collar of his coat turned up against the cold and his hands thrust deep into his pockets. It had been a long night wandering from taproom to taproom; after leaving the inn where the others were staying, neither of us had felt particularly anxious to get back. Even if it had meant spending the night dozing in rickety chairs over a lukewarm cup of watered-down ale.

/What time do you think it is?/ Dart asked, a tad groggily.

(Maybe a bit after seven. I heard some bells go off a while back)

/Ah/ Dart stepped to one side as a pair of young woman hurried past, thick woolen scarves wrapped around their heads. /I suppose we should think about heading back sooner or later, huh? I don't think I want to hang around here any longer than we have to/

(Do you still plan on heading to Furni?)

He pulled one hand out of his pocket and rubbed his chin reflectively, feeling the coarse stubble that had sprung up overnight through a hole in one of the fingertips. /I need to shave/ he remarked to no one in particular. /I suppose so. I wish the cult didn't have quite so much influence there, but it's probably the safest place to go if we plan to keep moving/

(Relatively. Do you want me to take over for a bit? You didn't get all that much sleep last night)

/I'll be okay for a while yet/ he said defensively, but the mention of the word sleep had him suddenly fighting back a yawn. /Besides, my body's tired too. I don't need you putting any more strain on it/

(Suit yourself)

Gradually the sun began to inch its way higher over the rooftops of Fueno, though the air retained its bite. Dart continued to wander, though now he had a direction, picking his way along the streets that would eventually bring him to the waterfront. The captains of those ships in port often frequented the inns and taverns built along the dockside, or if not the captains themselves then crewmembers who might have an idea where to find them. With the end of the island's harvest flowing into port in the beds of wagons and on the backs of horses the harbor was filled with ships waiting to carry it off to the cities of Endiness. Finding a ship heading for Furni would be no problem. Finding a captain that would be willing to take on five passengers, however, could be a different matter altogether.

/I don't know where I'm going to find the money for this/ Dart grumbled as we reached the waterfront.

(Where do we ever find the money for anything? Sell Cai's horse. That should give us enough to get us to Furni, at least)

/I suppose so/

Even though it was still early in the day, the waterfront taverns were filled to bursting with sailors and travelers of every size and description. Dart made his way from one to the next, asking after captains with similar results each time. The first wasn't ready to leave port. Another didn't want to leave while the body of the virage was still in the harbor, believing it to be bad luck. Or they were heading to Bale or Doneau. The one or two we did find that were heading to Furni either had no room and refused to take on passengers, or wouldn't be leaving until the end of the week.

After two hours of frustration Dart finally slumped down at a table in one of the smaller bars at the eastern end of the docks, grabbing an ale off of a passing serving man and passing him a couple of coins. Taking a long drink, he set the mug down and leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes. /This is going to take forever/

(I doubt that, somehow) Though Dart's eyes were closed I could still 'see' the activity of the bar around him, shadows of movement and sketchy pictures that drew themselves in my mind's eye as I looked around. This pub was somewhat smaller than the others we had visited that morning, a narrow building wedged between the larger dory workshop one the one side and the sailcloth mender on the other. Despite this, or maybe because of this, the pub had a cleaner atmosphere than the winesinks that clustered around the larger docks. The men sitting at the tables around us were for the most part sober, or at least quietly drunk, as they talked to one another over their drinks, and the low murmur of conversation filled the air in a pleasant buzz.

(Don't fall asleep)

/Worry about yourself/ Dart grumbled back, but he did rouse himself enough to watch a group of men who had just entered the pub settle down at a nearby table before closing his eyes again.

I cursed. (Do you think you could keep your eyes open for more than a few seconds at a time?) I demanded.

/I can't help it Ark/ He apologized. /My body needs rest. I can't keep forcing myself to stay awake/

(You can't. I can. Move over) I took Dart's place as he moved aside, and suddenly the vague weariness that I had only been faintly aware of settled in so strongly that for a moment I had to fight not to allow myself to sag over in the chair. Forcing myself upright, I shut my mind of to the tiredness as best I could, and almost instantly things became easier. Using Dart's body like this was something akin to using a puppet: I had total control of his movements, but I could feel little of what it actually felt. From his vantage point Dart grumbled a complaint; forcing the body to work without paying attention to its needs took a toll that he'd have to pay later, but at this stage it made little difference anyway.

Curling my fingers around the handle of my mug, I lifted it to my lips and took a drink, watching the newcomers from the corner of my eye. There were four of them seated around the table, the first two both craggy, weather-beaten men old enough to be grandfathers, and the third man perhaps a few years shy of fifty with thinning, fire-red hair and a sallow face. The forth man sat on an angle facing away from me, though judging from his slight build and the sound of his voice, he could not have been much over twenty.

"...You were supposed to have been gone from port this morning, Allen," the young man was saying. "What kept you?"

One of the older men shrugged his shoulders and leaned forward onto the table. "Hull's damaged. I have to wait until the gravel bar is cleared so I can beach her and get a better look at it. You were lucky you arrived late, Shane. Would have been a shame if your Blue Wind had been caught in the middle of it."

"Was it really that bad?" The young man sat back in his chair as a serving maid brought the drinks to the table. Declining the wine, he reached for the clay jug of water instead. "I've heard a lot of rumors flying around, but I haven't found anyone who could tell me the truth of it."

"Heh, don't bother asking Allen about it then," the red haired man joked, reaching across the table to clap a hand on the older man's shoulder. "His head was so soaked in wine while that monstrosity was running around he probably couldn't have found his own feet!"

Allen shoved the hand away roughly. "Shut your face, Romo. You were probably passed out under a bench somewhere anyway, so you can't talk."

"It was a bar stool, actually," Romo corrected absently, "but that's not really the point. What about you, Micah?"

The final man at the table sat quietly, drinking from a flagon of cheap red wine. He set it down now, watching the play of light on the swirling liquid. The silence hung heavy in the air; at last he pushed away the flagon slowly, the heavy glass scraping across the rough wood of the tabletop. "Aye," he said quietly. "Aye, I saw it."

"Seriously, Micah?" Romo's thin face looked half disbelieving, half impressed. "You sure you didn't just dream it up?"

Micah gave him a flat stare. "I was right there on the waterfront, you idiot. I know what I saw."

Allan set one steadying hand on the man's shoulder. "Easy there, brother. Romo's just playing with you. But you saw it, for true? What did it look like?"

/Ark, we've been listening to these rumors all night/ Dart complained from the recesses of my mind. /They're all wildly inaccurate, or horribly embellished. Just find out if anyone here is leaving for Furni anytime soon and then head back to the inn/

I lifted my mug and took another drink. Yes, so far about all we'd heard all night had been rumors. Still, if the wrong rumors found their way into the ears of any cultists things could become tricky.

After a bit of nudging, the three men managed to prod Micah into giving a fairly accurate description of the virage. "I didn't really see much," he admitted afterward. "Once it started getting close to the ships the docks were chaos, so it was difficult to see much of anything."

"Huh." Romo rubbed his chin with one knuckle. "S'dead now, that's what really matters, I guess. Do they know what killed it?"

Micah shrugged. "The creator Soa riding upon a star-beast. Why are you asking me this Romo? How in hell should I know?"

"I've heard a lot of things," Shane admitted. He was leaning back in his chair, staring up at the ceiling. "Mind you, people will tell you anything if they think they know the half of it, but still, I've heard some interesting stuff. Heck, there was even one guy swearing he was out on one of the boats watching the virage when a dragoon landed on the deck in front of him and turned into a beautiful woman."

I looked away, pretending to be interested in a serving maid working at the counter. Wonderful. It should have occurred to me that the sailors still on the ships would have had a clear view of the entire fight. (Damn it. I should have sunk some of those ships out in the harbor while I was at it)

/Is that all you can think of? If ships started sinking after the virage was dead, people would start asking questions. Including Kaelin and Zion/

I started to growl, and then stopped when I realized I was doing it aloud. (All right, I see your point. Still, I wish I had thought of this earlier)

/Ark, as much as I know how you would've loved to try to spend the night sneaking from inn to inn butchering sailors in their beds, I don't really think that's necessary. People will say anything; it doesn't mean anyone will believe them/

(Shut up)

Meanwhile, Romo was laughing again. "Sounds to me like that was one sailor who needs to lay off the rum a bit. I mean, seriously? Dragoons? They haven't been heard of for hundreds of years!"

"Actually, now that you mention it," Allen said, giving Romo a look, "there's been a lot of rumors of dragoons around lately. Apparently the Moon Child had one in her service a while ago, but it disappeared."

"Really? I wouldn't know. I spent the last few months mapping the Gloriano coastline between the Broken Islands and Denningrad before coming back here."

Shane rapped his fingers on the edge of the table, still staring up at the ceiling. "No, it's true. Apparently, he swore allegiance to her in front of the entire city of Fletz. I don't know where he ended up now, but there's talk that she's found herself another one."

'What?!' Dart and I had the same thought simultaneously, and I set my mug down with a bang. The sound was lost amid the other sounds of the room, but I winced and kept my eyes riveted on the tabletop. Another dragoon? Could she really have found one so quickly?

"Seriously, Shane?"

Shane nodded. "I just arrived in port from Doneau. I've got a friend there who's drinking buddies with one of the dread knights that escorted the dragoon to Fletz."

Micah whistled softly. "Now isn't that something. Did it swear allegiance to her yet?"

Shane laughed. "They're going to have some real problems with that part, I think. The dragoon's a mute. They'll have to write out an oath and get the woman to sign it, and only a fool signs an oath without knowing what they're getting into."

"I almost pity them." Romo grinned. "Still, it might be worth seeing. My Sea Runner is heading for Doneau this afternoon. Maybe I'll take a side trip to Fletz when I get there and see if I can't get a look." He chuckled to himself. "Wouldn't that be something to tell my son about. He's crazy about all those old legends about dragoons and winglies."

Abruptly Dart shoved my control aside and replaced me, pushing the mug away and twisting around in the seat so that he was facing the men at the other table. "Excuse me, but did you just say that you're headed for Doneau?"

(What? Dart, what are you doing?)

Dart ignored me. Instead, he kept his eyes locked on Romo who had turned in his chair to look at him with some surprise. "Sorry, but I couldn't help overhearing. It's just that my friends and I have been looking for someone to take us back to the mainland for some time now, but we haven't had much luck."

(Dart!)

/Just shut up a moment, will you?/ Dart snapped back angrily. Startled, I fell silent.

Romo gave him an appraising look, his eyes narrowing as they traveled over his worn clothes and tired face. "Passage to the mainland, huh? I don't usually take on passengers to tell the truth, and frankly mister, you don't exactly look like the sort who can pay the price I'd be asking."

Dart's mouth tightened at the corners, but he reached deep into the interior pockets of his coat and pulled out the wash-leather purse that held the last of our coin. "I can give you this much now. I'll give you as much again once we arrive in port." Tossing the bag to the captain, he watched while the man spilled the coin onto the tabletop and began to count out the pieces. Around the table, the other captains sat up a little straighter, roused by the sight of money. Even Shane stopped staring at the ceiling and sat normally in his chair, looking first from Dart, then to the coin, then to Romo and back to Dart again. He was younger than the other men were; his face was smooth, almost boyish, and his sandy hair fell constantly into his eyes as he watched the exchange.

Inwardly, I frowned. There was something familiar about the intent look on his face; something around the eyes that I couldn't quite place.

"You said you had friends?" Romo scraped the coin into a pile and tucked it back into the bag, but hesitated to hand it back to Dart. "You realize part of your payment would have to be in labor. I'm shorthanded at the moment, as it would happed."

"Hey, Romo, that's hardly fair," Allan interjected, but Dart spoke over him as though he had never spoken at all.

"It doesn't matter to us. Just as long as we can get off of this blasted island. When do you sail?" Dart pushed back his chair and got to his feet.

"Afternoon tide. The ship's name is Sea Runner. I warn you though, if you miss the time, I won't be waiting around."

"I wouldn't expect you to." Dart nodded his head, first to Romo, then to the other men at the table. "Gentlemen."

I withheld my questions until Dart had left the pub. The streets had grown busier while we were inside, so Dart was forced to keep close to the shop fronts to avoid being caught up in the hustle of the milling crowd along the docks. The sun was well above the horizon now, partially obscured by woolly clouds; in another half hour or so it would be high noon. If Dart noticed or even cared he gave no sign. He would return to the inn now, to rouse the others and hopefully catch an hour or two of sleep before we had to catch the ship. I could feel the thoughts running through his mind like a river, but for once I held back from touching them and finding out what he was thinking. He would speak his thoughts once he had them sorted out in his own head first. Settling down, I waited patiently for his mood to lighten a bit.

It wasn't until we were well away from the rush and bustle of the waterfront that Dart finally paused to rest, sitting down on a wooden crate in the mouth of a butcher's alley. Leaning against the rough brick wall of the shop at his back he heaved a sigh and closed his eyes. /Sorry/

(You know I don't appreciate these little surprises Dart. Would you mind explaining what you have in mind?)

/Ayrel has the White-Silver/

(I'd gathered as much) I said dryly, then hesitated. Dart's emotions were flickering and shifting like reflections on a rough pond; first anger and then sadness, now regret, then weariness that gave way to more anger. I didn't have to probe any deeper into his thoughts to know whom he was thinking about. Then again, it was hardly surprising: eight hundred years had done little to erase the scars that were left from the deaths of his wife and friends. (Dart, you knew the white-silver would take another bearer. Don't get your self upset over that)

/That's not it/ Dart shook his head, then opened one eye a crack as a cart rumbled past. /Ark, there's no way I'm going to let Ayrel have the White-Silver Dragoon to serve her! It's just not.../

(Not right, I agree) I finished the sentence. Mind you, it's wrong for any dragoon to serve the Moon Child, but I do see your point. But what do you plan on doing? Stealing away the spirit from under her nose? Asalla can feel you coming from a mile away, and without Garren you have no way of getting in and out of there fast enough without a fight

/You'd love that too, wouldn't you?/ Dart grumbled, but I felt his blood quicken at the prospect.

Inwardly, I smiled. Oh, there was no doubt that Dart was wary of Ayrel. And for the time being, there was no way he'd allow for a fight as long as the other dragoons were near. But if the fight were to take place on our terms, under conditions of his choosing...

I fought the urge to laugh, finally beginning to see the glimmer of what might be a final solution. As long as Zion, Kaelin, and the others remained nearby, Dart would be content to run. But if there was a chance that the fight could be isolated, with no chance of intervention, he would be every bit as eager to face Ayrel as I was.

/What's so funny?/ Dart asked suspiciously, sensing my amusement. /I don't really see what's so funny about the situation/

This time, I really did laugh. (Oh, don't worry Dart. Trust me, you'll see it soon enough. Just give me some time to iron out the fine details, and I'll share it with you. In the mean time, why don't you get off your ass and head back to the inn? The children will be wondering where you've been all night)

/You'd better be serious/ He muttered, sliding off of the crate.

(Trust me, Dart. Just trust me)

Cai's POV:

"The captain says that we should make port sometime this afternoon."

I took my head out of my hands and looked up from where I sat next to the rail. Kaelin stood over me, wrapped head to toe in a long brown cloak that offered some protection against the cutting ocean winds. For the moment at least, she had thrown back the hood that had shielded her face and was watching me with a grin. "Are you sick or something? If the captain finds you sitting around like this, he'll put you back to work for sure."

I looked around at the mention of the captain, but he was nowhere in sight. In fact the only crewmember that I could see was one of the deckhands, facing in the opposite direction as he cast a thick line into the wake off the stern from the bow. Twice now he'd drawn in the line with a fish hooked as long as my arm, but aside from that, most of his casts came back empty. Glancing back up at Kaelin, I shook my head. "I don't get seasick."

She straightened up again, rocking back and forth on her heels with the motion of the ship. "That's good. I think Zion's giving up on eating; he can't hold anything down in this weather."

"Too bad for him, I guess. Where's Solana?"

"In the kitchens, helping the cook with dinner. I don't know what she thinks she can do down there; cookie's banned her from doing anything but peeling potatoes." The wind tugged a corner of Kaelin's cloak free from her grip and for a moment it flapped wildly, snapping and shuddering like a struggling bird. And then she caught it again, pulling the heavy cloak closed around her once more. "You should be below. It's not like you have to stay out here and freeze, you know."

I shrugged. "I like fresh air. It's too close down in the cabins for my taste." Putting my hands to the damp deck, I pushed myself to my feet. "Besides, I don't think I trust myself around Ry at the moment."

Kaelin laughed. "I don't think any of us do, but that's beside the point."

I smiled slightly, but it didn't last long. Turning around, I leaned against the rail to watch the coast roll by. The northern fringes of Tiberoa were nothing like the arid interior of the country; here the shore was bordered by rolling grassland and the occasional stand of hardwoods, their grey limbs all but naked as the last of their leaves drifted to the ground on the chill autumn wind. The coastline itself was rocky and inhospitable; the ocean waves beating in vain against slab-sided boulders and partially submerged shoals, churning the water into white foam as it boiled out from cracks and gaps between the stones. The sky overhead was clear save for a wisp of cloud drifting along the western horizon, and with the sun at our backs it was the Moon that filled the sky, pale and wan in the daylight. I watched it all slide past to be replaced by more of the same, filled with a comforting sense of familiarity. I had been raised on one of the King's stud farms only a few miles inland of the coast, and much of my boyhood had been spent on horseback, exploring every twist and curve of the shore.

Lost in memory, I was surprised when Kaelin came to the rail to stand next to me, still holding her cloak tightly about her. "So," she said quietly, "what do you think?"

I glanced over at her. She was watching the waves slapping against the hull of the boat without much interest as the wind tousled her uneven hair, turning what had previously been an artful mess into a hopeless tangle. There was really no need to ask what she wanted my opinion on. If it hadn't been spoken, it had been on all of our minds since we had left Fueno a few days previous.

"What do I think?" I repeated slowly, watching a gull drift by on motionless wings. "I think it's crazy. It's going to be difficult enough moving around in Tiberoa without being noticed; going straight into Fletz, the seat of the temple's power, well..."

"Seems like a fool's mission, I know." Kaelin glanced over at me. "So what's holding you back? Now that you have a spirit, I was almost positive that you'd take Solana and jump ship."

"This is a fool's mission," I snorted. "But then again, I suppose I'm an even bigger fool for staying around. I want to leave, but at the same time..."

"You don't see where else you can go." She finished.

I grunted. "Even if we did have somewhere to go, I don't think I could convince Solana to leave now. She was very much against the way the Child's last dragoon was controlled, in private if not publicly, and the idea of it happening all over again to someone else seems to have sparked something inside her. I think it reminds her of how easily that person could have been her, if we hadn't made it out of Tiberoa in time." I looked away. "And the worst part is, if this whole thing falls apart, it still could be her."

"You really think so?" Kaelin asked softly. "We've all got our own reasons, but none of us really wants to end up in the hands of the temple. Even if this does come apart at the seams like you said, neither of you really fancies being on the end of a leash. If Zion gets caught, about all he has to look forward to is a block of oak and a headsman's axe. And me, well..." She pulled her cloak tighter around her body, and for a moment she looked almost vulnerable. "I've got problems of my own to worry about. If this does fall apart, we'll just have to fight our way out of it."

"You really think we could do that? What if that means facing the Moon Child? As much as the temples have done, well...she's the Moon Child. How could you count her as our enemy?"

For a long moment Kaelin was silent, watching the coast slide by without expression. "I thought of that, once. It took me a while, but I think I found my answer. Whatever the temples have been doing, it is the Moon Child that wants the dragoons, right? Now, don't get me wrong; I believe in the gods and whatnot as much as the next woman. But if this Moon Child is going to stick a halter on me and set bounds on me simply for the sake of controlling me, then I don't really think that she's really the sort of deity I want to serve. Soa never asked that of me, so I don't think I'll be converting to this child-god any time soon. I spent too long getting my freedom for someone else to take it away from me again." Her eyes hardened. "Far too long."

"I see." I glanced over at the lone sailor at the back of the boat. His line had gone taught, and he was wrestling with all his strength against whatever was on the other end. "So that's why you came along with Ry?"

"Not exactly." She shrugged. "He had the spirits, and seemed to know what to do with them. It was more for something to do, at first."

"At first?"

She sighed and stepped back from the rail. "I don't know what it is, really. There's just something about him that..." she waved her hand from under the cloak, searching for the words. "I'm not sure what you'd call it. It's not charisma, and he definitely wouldn't leap to mind as a travel companion. It's just...I don't know. He's like one of those little puzzles children play with. Just when I think I've got him figured out something happens, or he says something, or he does something, and everything I thought I knew flies out the window." She frowned, staring off into the middle distance. "I used to be very good with puzzles, especially when people are the pieces. But no matter which way I look at him, he's the one piece I can't figure out how to make fit."

"Puzzles? You're risking your life because you can't figure him out?" I couldn't help but stare. Between her and Zion, I had always pegged her as the more sensible of the two, but...

She turned her head to look at me, one eyebrow arched. "Well? What about you? I can see at least a hundred things that could go wrong with his plan, but you haven't even so much as said a word against him. The way you're usually so eager to go at his throat, I would have thought you'd have been all over that in an instant."

I opened my mouth to answer, and then stopped. Yes, it was true that Ry's plan had its flaws. Gaping holes, more like it. I'd spent most of my life serving in and around Fletz and the palace; I could think of a hundred easier ways of going about this, with less chance of being discovered or caught as well. And yet...

Kaelin must have noticed, because the corners of her mouth began to twitch, resisting a smile. "You see what I mean?"

"He's just so damn sure of himself!" I exploded, pushing myself back from the rail. "If he were just that little hesitant, then maybe but..." I trailed off as Kaelin burst out laughing. Reaching out with one hand she clapped me on the shoulder, the wind ripping the cloak out of her arms so that it waved like a banner from where it was fastened around her neck.

"See what I mean?" She grinned, pulling her hand off of my shoulder. "I don't trust him completely as a person, but I can't help but trust him on things like this. He's good. Now if you don't mind, I think I'm gonna head below and see if the kitchen's got anything ready to eat yet. I'm hungry." Still smiling, she turned and left, her steps swaying with the motion of the ship as she made her way along the length of the bulge of the cabin and out of sight.

After she was gone, I resumed my vigil at the rail. The wind didn't slacken, but as the ship changed course slightly the bulge of the cabin roof protected me from the worst of it. The coastline slipping rapidly past was intimately familiar now; another few miles and Doneau would come into sight. It was there that the game would start, though it wouldn't really begin in truth for Solana and I until we reached Fletz.

Dangerous. It was all too dangerous.

And yet, at the same time...

Zion's POV:

I don't usually travel into Tiberoa. Most of the decent fighting tournaments take place in Serdio, and anyway, anywhere north of Hoax was really too far to travel as long as I was worried about supporting Remmy and Tabby back in Kazas. In fact the last time I had come to Tiberoa I had still been small enough that I was sharing a horse with my brother. My memories of the country were rather sketchy as a result, but in the days following our departure from Doneau, I saw nothing to indicate that anything had changed since my last visit. Tiberoa was hot, dry, and dusty. Tiberoa would always be hot, dry, and dusty. True, the heat was diminished somewhat with the onset of the cooler seasons, but about all that changed about the situation was that it was unseasonably warm, in stead of unreasonably hot.

Since Ry had spent the last of our coin on the crossing from Doneau, we left the city on foot. At first it hadn't seemed so bad; after the days spent cooped up on the ship in rough weather anything had been a welcome change. After three days spent trekking through the seemingly endless barrens, though, walking had lost most of its appeal. Tired, hot, and footsore, we trudged along an old wagon track that wound through the rocky landscape like a snake trying to slough its skin. The sun was low in the western horizon, painting the sky brilliant orange while on the earth below shadows lengthened and blended with one another in a semblance of darkness. Three days of walking had put us within a stone's throw of Fletz, but it wasn't to the city that we were headed; at least, not yet. Somewhere in these hills was nestled Solana and Cai's country estate, and though we were close to the city, Solana had vouched for its safety, as long as we didn't linger for too long.

Walking along the road in a broken cluster, Solana and Cai walked at the head of the groups, their heads close together as they talked with one another in low voices. Every now and then a word of what they were saying would drift back to my ears, but for the most part it was pitched not to carry. Kaelin wandered along at the back of the group with her saber drawn, watching the shadows between the rocks suspiciously as we passed. The barrens, we had discovered, were infested with monsters of every shape and description, few of them pleasant. We had all gotten some practice in with our spirits, even Cai, whose only weapon was a long belt knife.

Ry and I walked in the middle of the group, swords loosened in their sheaths. Since my old sword had been broken and lost during the fight with the virage I had picked up a replacement of sorts, although it was hardly two thirds the length of my other. Using a regular sword again after all of these years felt strange; privately, I hoped Solana had a blacksmith or armorer somewhere on that estate of hers.

As if thinking her name had caught her attention somehow, she broke off her conversation with Cai and turned her head to look back at us. "It's not much farther now. We should be at the gates in another half hour or so."

"Great." Kaelin's voice floated up from the back of the column. "I hope you have quick servants, Solana. I could really, really use a good long bath right now."

"I think we all could." Stretching out my hand in front of me, I peered at my grime-covered skin in the half-light. "How long do you plan on us hanging around there, Ry? We're going to need rest if we're going to do anything half as drastic as you say."

Ry trudged along beside me; his heavy oilskin coat slung over one shoulder in an attempt to escape the heat. "A day, maybe two. We can't afford much more than that, though. If things seem safe enough, we do it tomorrow night."

"Tomorrow?" Cai turned to look at us over one shoulder, his blond hair tinged red from the dust that had settled into it that day. "That soon?"

"It has to be soon, otherwise it'll never work. The longer we stay here, the faster word will leak out about your 'guests'." Ry shook his head. "No, we're going to have to be in, out, and gone again as quick as possible. The last thing we need is a troop of guardsmen stopping people at the city gates because someone managed to give them a warning."

Cai seemed satisfied with this, and turned to face forward again. I glanced over at Ry, keeping pace alongside him. "So what's the plan again? Solana and Cai get us into the palace so that we can look for the white-silver, we convince her to come with us or whatever, and sneak her back out of the palace?"

"That's over simplifying it, but yes, that would be the gist of it." Ry slung his coat off of his shoulder and began to pull it back on. "They'll get you and Kaelin into the palace. That won't be particularly difficult if we toss some armor on you and call you a bodyguard. Kaelin might be a bit more of a challenge, but worse come to worse I'm sure that woman is more than capable of finding her way in on her own. They'll pretend to seek an audience with one of the minor nobles, which should give the two of you enough time to find out where they're keeping the white-silver and find a way to talk to her. Convince her to come with us if you can, get word to Cai and Solana, and come back here. If all goes well, you should be well out of it by midnight."

I mulled this over for a minute or two, turning it over in my mind. "What do we do if it turns out that she really is loyal to the temples? The dragoon, I mean."

For a long moment Ry walked beside me in silence. When he spoke again, his voice was soft so that I doubted that anyone else overheard. "We can't let that happen. Knock her on the head and fly her out of there if you have to, but don't leave her behind. Whatever happens, we can't let the temples have another dragoon."

"What about you? Somehow I can't see you leaving yourself out of all this fun."

"I've got my own job to do." The faintest hint of a smile appeared briefly on his lips, and then was gone again. "It's probably for the best if you don't know too much about it. I can guarantee you though, it'll make you're job a hundred times easier."

"You sure?"

The smile flickered back again, ghostly in the fading light. "Trust me, Zion. I'm absolutely positive."

Ritual apology: Sorry for the lateness.

Ritual excuse: I wrote three different beginnings to the chapter. That means I essentially blew time writing six pages I never actually used before actually getting to work on the chapter as it stands now. XP Wow, I suck.