"Where's Ashelin?"

Torn's voice cut through the silence of the headquarters, empty and still. Raziel was the only one there, and she looked up, startled, when he burst in through the door. "She left," Raziel explained simply. "A little bit after you did. She said she felt better and she was going to go home."

Torn's blood ran cold. "What the fuck was she thinking?" he exploded. Without another word to Raziel, he turned and stormed back out. He had come to warn her that she could NEVER go home, not while her father was still alive. Both Ashelin and Torn were now listed on "Haven's Most Wanted," with a reward of Eco.

Their crimes, the list said, were spying and treason against Baron Praxis, and Torn had the added accusation of murdering Natasha. It was all true, all justified – and all unintentional. They could never go back.

Torn didn't want to face Ashelin after what they had done earlier. What kind of person was he, to have sex with Natasha and then with Natasha's sister only days later? He groaned as he stepped outside into the frigid night air. "I am a worthless bastard," he muttered. But there was nothing he could do about that right now. He had to find Ashelin.

If she had shown up at the Palace, there was a good chance he would know it by now. But he had to look. He couldn't get access to the upper levels of city airspace in anything but a Hellcat.

He clicked on his radio. "Jinx?"

"Yeah?"

"It's Torn. Listen, we both know you're an asshole, but could you get me a KG transport? Now?" Torn's voice was hushed and urgent. Even Jinx, stupid bastard that he was, knew to obey that voice.

"Yeah, get it out of the KG garage in five minutes," the hacker responded. "I'll fix the system for you."

"Thanks," Torn said, but he felt no real gratitude for the man. Early on, in training for the Krimzon Guard, they had been rivals. Jinx had dropped out of the Guard just before they had been sworn in, though, and the two of them had lost track of each other for several years. Torn was fond of referring to those years as the best years of his life.

The Hellcat was easy enough to get out of the KG garage; no one was there but the security robots, which had been successfully programmed by Jinx to let Torn access a Hellcat.

…………………………………………………………….

The Palace loomed menacingly in front of Torn. Baron Praxis was confident enough in Krimzon Guard security that he had not installed any turrets on the sides of the Palace; Torn knew he would be safe enough with the cloaking device.

There was a Hellcat parked next the window of Ashelin's room, and there was no one in it. Then a large bundle was thrown out the window into the Hellcat. The bundle was followed by Ashelin. Torn pulled up beside her.

Her face was tear streaked and her usually-neat dreds were messy and frizzy. She was looking straight at him, but she barely seemed to recognize him. "What are you doing here?" she yelled. Ah, so she recognized him after all.

"I came to get you. We have to leave the city for a while – now! We're Haven City's Most Wanted!" he called over to her.

She glared at him. "I know that, and I AM leaving the city."

"I'm coming with you then!" he said.

"Like fucking hell you are," she snarled. "I'm going to the desert, to find the rest of the Bahzre. Anyone who thinks Halland and the other priests were killed in that explosion is just stupid; I'm going to find them, and THEN I'll have my revenge."

Torn swallowed hard. Revenge? For hurting Natasha and herself? He had killed Natasha; did this mean he was next on her list for revenge?

"I'll go with you," he said, and before she could stop him he had launched himself over into her hovercar.

"Damn you, Torn, get out before I push you out!" she screeched.

"You wouldn't push me out," he said. His impassive face masked the thoughts that swirled around in his mind; he wasn't entirely sure that she wouldn't push him, if provoked.

"You want to bet on that?"

He didn't, but he nodded in spite of himself.

She sighed. "You don't even know me, and yet you seem to know me too well," she murmured. Her shoulders slumped, but the icy mask that was her face did not waver.

"You going to drive?" Torn asked pointedly.

She nodded, and was silent as she started the hovercar. "I guess… I guess it'll be okay if you come along," she murmured.

But of course it wasn't. She wanted to do this by herself, to avenge Natasha's death. She didn't blame Torn; it was Halland who had truly killed them. The Children of Fire and Ice were dead, and there was nothing left but anger.

Natasha.

They were miles above the city now, and the air was getting harder to breathe. Ashelin pressed a button, and the roof of the Hellcat came up over their heads to form a bubble full of clean air.

Torn wanted to speak, but he didn't see what there was to say. He thought of what the two of them had done only hours ago, and his heart tightened in shame. Losing control.

They looked at each other only once. The corners of Ashelin's mouth were taut in effort not to cry. Torn felt his soul breaking.

Our mistake.

……………………………………………………………….

The desert was exactly the same as it had been when they had left it only a few weeks ago. The dunes were tall and gleaming in the golden morning light. The rocky sentinels, scattered around near the cliffs, weathered the constantly blowing sand steadily. There were few plants and animals. A brave, tall cactus stood at nearly twelve feet. Ashelin ran it over with a smack. Moist shards of the cactus were coated with sand before they hit the ground.

"What'd you do that for?" Torn snapped. "That cactus was probably a hundred years old!"

"Because I felt like it," she snapped. "It's what I'd like to do to Halland."

"You do know that Halland is probably dead?" Torn asked cautiously, prepared for an explosion of her temper.

She didn't blow up as he expected her to. She merely nodded. "I wish I could believe that," she murmured. "It's just that, I have to know. I have to be sure that that… monster… can't hurt anyone else."

"But was it really Halland's fault?" Torn asked. "I mean, wasn't it Wendel that started all this?"

"It was my father that started all this," Ashelin said with contempt. "But I can't hardly kill him, now can I?"

Torn shrugged. "You could. He would deserve it. Think of it as an eye for an eye. He's caused the death of thousands… including your mother." He didn't want to add that Baron Praxis had been, indirectly, the cause of Natasha's death, because then it would look like he was trying to shift the blame from himself. It was only the truth, though.

Ashelin shook her head. "I can't," she said softly. "He may have had his own wife killed, but I won't kill my own kin. I'm not like him."

Honorable.

………………………………………………………………………………..

The hours seemed to drag on as they flew over the desert. Torn realized he was only armed with his pistol. "Damn!" he shouted, banging his fist against the seat.

Ashelin looked at him mildly. "Yes?"

"I only have my pistol," he explained, somewhat embarrassed at his outburst. He was not one for shows of emotion. Ashelin just seemed to bring out the worst in him.

"Ah…" she murmured absently. She was busy checking to see how much fuel they had left.

"What's the fuel level at?" Torn asked.

"85 capacity," she said. "Plenty left, and if we get a chance we could even refuel at Spargus City."

"Where?" Torn asked, puzzled. He had never heard of any other city except Haven City and the Bahzre Fortress.

"It's a Wasteland City," Ashelin said. "You've never heard of it?" She sounded surprised.

Torn shook his head. "Where is it?"

"Oh, miles and miles west," she said airily. "You can't even see it from the air – although I think you can from the cliff."

"Ah," Torn nodded.

Their chat from then on was civil, overly courteous, about mundane topics neither one of them had any interest in. It was a peace treaty, but it was straining. They were both trying to avoid talking about the thing that needed to be talked about: themselves. And their will was breaking.
……………………………………………………………………..

The Fortress was gone, only a crater left where it had once stood in terrible glory. Within the crater, though, were the tops of what appeared to be tunnels. "The Catacombs," whispered Ashelin. "That's where the priests will have taken refuge."

Torn made the Sign against evil – a cross with a line through it – a six-pointed star. "We have to go in there?" he said gruffly, trying to hide the quaver in his voice. Everyone knew that the Catacombs were the home of the Precursors, and that they were guarded by the most terrible and powerful of the Precursor technology.

Ashelin nodded. "Yeah. And just remember—you're the one who wanted to come along." She began to lover the Hellcat. "They won't come out – Halland and his men are too cowardly for that. They'll think we're part of the KG Army, back to finish the job." A small smirk twisted her features.

Torn tried to mask his unease as she took off over the side of the Hellcat. He swallowed hard, and followed her into the black depths.