~ PART THREE ~

Across Sands of Time

Chapter Thirty

Three Months later, 5015 AS / Eight days until Midsummer

All this had been a long time coming, there was no turning back now. All that effort, all that work, tonight, it would come to fruition at last. Moon could feel it in the air, the electricity, the anticipation. Her tail twitched, and she kept her green eyes trained on the monstrous shadow that stalked back and forth in front of his throne.

His grin displayed all his frightening teeth. "Shall we begin?"

She took a deep breath, determined to not show her nerves. Her only response was to attack.

Thrusting her mind outwards, she dove for his defences, trying to catch him off guard. He laughed, and the shield around his mind slammed down with enough force to rattle her. Moon grit her teeth and tried to press forward. She imagined sinking her claws into the aura around Darkstalker's mind, anything to draw him out.

"Oh, you want to play dirty, little Moon?" he taunted. "Very well!"

He leapt at her, and Moon threw herself aside with a loud yelp. She didn't stop to catch her breath or to even ask what he was doing. Heart pounding, she raced away before he could have the chance to snatch at her. Darting behind a column, she felt the air from his passing talon when he tried to grab for her. Their eyes met, frightened green to laughing silver-blue. And then Moon felt him attempting to get into her mind. He was strong and relentless, surrounding and subduing her. Immediately, Moon conjured the tune she now always used as her anchor, the one she'd learned from listening to Darkstalker's thoughts. It brought her calm and reinforced her barriers.

A talon took hold of her wrist, and the adrenaline spike almost made her lose concentration. She shrieked and bit down on the offending hand. Darkstalker yowled and released her. Without a moment to waste, Moon threw herself into the air, hoping that she might find some respite in the rafters of the throne room. Like a black bird that had found its way inside but had forgotten the way out, she fluttered around the balconies, noticing that above the throne room was a walkway under the glass roof. She'd never been up there -

Another hard press against her defences, Moon cursed her curiosity and threw all her focus on keeping Darkstalker out. Far below, she could hear him chuckle. "You're quite the viper when cornered, you know that?"

"Serves you right!" she shot back. "You should learn to keep your talons to yourself."

"But you have to admit," he said, crouching, rolling his shoulders. "This way's much more fun!"

He leapt at her and grabbed hold of her tail. Moon screamed as she was suddenly yanked downwards. She struggled, both physically and mentally, to keep Darkstalker out of her mind. Dropping back to the floor, he effortlessly pinned her down, one foot on her tail, his wings on hers and one talon securing her wrist whilst the other got her neck. There was no point in fighting him in this, he'd had the years of training that she just couldn't compete with.

But in one last effort to be free, she made her eyes bulge and her body curl towards her left wing - as much as she could. "Ow, ow, ow!"

Darkstalker paused and retracted that wing. His eyes scanned her in a slight panic for damage.

Seizing her chance, Moon drove her thoughts towards Darkstalker, determined to break his shield. Seeing her expression change in that split second, Darkstalker returned fire. Their thoughts met halfway, clashing together and revealing the image they'd held to the other.

Darkstalker imagined Moon, laid on a plate like a roasted pig, surrounded by vegetables and even with an apple stuck in her mouth!

Moon imagined Darkstalker sat looking miserable, with hundreds of big, pink ribbons tied in bows to every horn and spike and limb.

The pair of them stared at each other, and then burst out laughing.

Darkstalker released Moon, sniggering. Climbing to her feet, she tried her hardest not to let the giggles get the best of her, but that was a losing battle. They mutually decided that that battle ended in a draw. Even though Moon was perfectly aware that had this been a serious battle, she would've lost. It didn't feel like that long ago she was helpless in these sparring matches. But over the past several weeks, through all her training, even she could tell the progress she was making.

"You see?" Darkstalker was saying as he climbed to his feet. Over the course of their time spent in the Kingdom of Night, he'd filled out a little more. No longer was he the skeletal beast that looked one breath away from collapsing at any moment. He was still lean and thin in most places, but Moon was beginning to wonder if that was his natural build. "Who here had no faith in her own abilities, even when I told her over and over again her potential?"

Moon swatted him with her tail. "No need to pat yourself on the back too hard, O magnificent teacher."

"That's not praise for me, it is praise for you, dear Moon!" He thumped her shoulder with a wing. "It's only been three months and yet you now possess the skill to take on even some professionals from my time!"

Her face grew warm and she struggled not to grin like an idiot. Darkstalker never failed to make her feel lighter than air whenever she succeeded. "Come," she said, slipping her silver earring back into place. "Let's get our work done. I really want to finish that chapter tonight!"

Darkstalker didn't complain and the pair eagerly raced out of the Castle of Stars and spread their wings. They soared into the warm summer sky. Not even in the darkness could they escape the heat and Moon didn't really mind it so much. She'd been raised in the humidity of the rainforest so the heat didn't bother her at all. At least in the Kingdom of Night, the warmth was accompanied by a wonderful breeze that blew in from the coast. Soaring across the lost city, Moon couldn't help but marvel at what she and Darkstalker had accomplished in all this time. Only using a spell a day and hard work everywhere else, they'd managed to completely restore the city centre. And most of the infrastructure that would maintain the city's sustainability were complete as well. They now had running clean water and streets with no damage. They even had small fields in the foothills with growing crops. Darkstalker wanted to expand out to the cliffs that made up the homes where NightWings used to live. It made sense - they had the bare necessities for a city to function, if they wanted other dragons to live here soon, then they'd need homes to stay in.

As they flew, Moon glanced across at Darkstalker, and thought on everything he had done for her in the past several weeks. After that night on the roof, he'd not only expanded her education tenfold, he'd also slowly peeled back the layers of his shell and revealed to her his most inner workings. Moon now felt as if she knew him almost as well as she knew herself. There was never a moment of sadness or loneliness when they were together, they were concepts hitherto unknown to them. Every night, Moon awoke inspired to wonder at what she would learn, what new avenue would be explored inside her soul. It was a slow transformation, to go from quiet and uncertain mouse to a force of nature in her own right. But she'd not been alone in the journey.

Day by day she'd sunk a little deeper into the quicksand of Darkstalker's influence. He drew her effortlessly through a succession of brightly coloured and constantly changing dimensions until her mind spun like a whirling kaleidoscope, a soaring kite on an infinite string. Her awareness of the world had been utterly changed now and she often looked back on her old self with fierce contempt. What a poor, ignorant caged creature she was before, imprisoned within her limited perceptions. Now she saw and heard and understood in a way that would have been completely beyond her a year ago. Yet she did not languish in his power like a pale prisoner denied the light of day, but instead grew ever upward beneath the benevolent sun of his genius. Where once she was content to be a wilting marigold, she now aspired to the glorious height of a sunflower. In his mind, he had captured all the wonders of the universe. And like a dragonet starved of toys, Moon reached out eagerly with both talons, to embrace all that he had to give.*

They landed at the borders of their repairs, and as they'd previously discussed, Moon granted Darkstalker permission to cast one spell. This time, they used his magic to fix a main road that connected the city centre to the first row of cliffside homes. Darkstalker's magic brushed aside all evidence of time's tyranny, and repaired the road like the world's most skilled seamstress, leaving no trace of any meddling at all. Moon got to work pulling out weeds and trimming back vegetation at the road side. She allowed her mind to imagine what might happen on this very street some day. Merchants pushing their carts into the city centre? Dragonets too young to fly for very long walking in packs to school? Maybe performers would set up on the side of the road and sing and play music for passers by?

It made her laugh to imagine any of the NightWings dancing a jig for a few measly coins. They were too proud. Did they even know how to sing? Her smile faded at that thought. And she gazed onto the street which was slowly being rejuvenated back to its former glory like a bare cherry tree blooming so suddenly at the first hint of spring.

They were doing all of this for the NightWings, to give them a good home so that they wouldn't have to fight this war for the rainforest. But would they accept all this? It was naive to think this a fairytale, where her tribe would be so thankful for all this work and shed that shadow of hate and narcissism to live normal, care free, happy lives. The past several generations of NightWings had had to suffer through famine, disaster, ecological collapse, plummeting birth rates, upheaval, and war. Each one had laid the bricks that made their cultural identity of wariness and survival at any cost. And with all those bricks came a wall that spelled one certainty: they would never accept this life, not so long as there was still a war to fight, an enemy they could focus against.

Moon knew her tribe was not inherently evil. They were just frightened, convinced by the likes of her father that everyone else was against them. Whilst they were not as the glory days once described them as, whilst their numbers remained half that of any other tribe, they were vulnerable. They were told that the only way they would survive is if they fought for everything they had. And so long as this war continued, they would not surrender that fight. For to do that would be to submit to an inevitable death, from all sides, in their eyes.

"We have to make it stop…" she whispered to herself. There was no other option available in her mind.

"What's that?" Darkstalker asked, walking towards her.

Moon slowly turned towards him, all her earlier humour, all thoughts of doing their work to slip back into the palace to lay cozily by the fire as he read to her… they had been purged from her mind. Now her heart felt heavy with the urgency to do something but with no idea how to achieve it.

"The NightWings," she said quietly. "They won't ever come here until the war is stopped. Can't we do something about it?"

"In what way?" he asked, his eyes a little guarded.

"You and I can see into the future. Can't we see how this will all end and tell them?"

"They believe the last prophecy about this war your father made up. And even with the NightWings - the creators of that prophecy that they all believe in - fighting on Blister's side, the other Queens still fight against her. If we swooped in with a different prophecy, what difference would it make?"

"So which of the SandWing sisters should be queen?" she asked.

Darkstalker stared out into the horizon, his gaze becoming distant as he searched the futures. After a moment, he said, "Right now, neither is fit to rule."

"What?"

"Blister is too cruel, too calculating. Even were she to win the war, she has fought too hard and too long to settle into mundane life. She will always be looking over her shoulder for a knife in the dark. Paranoia will drive her insane and cause a tyrannical reign that will end in another civil war because she will die without an heir. Her daughters - though there are only three timelines where she has any children - are all murdered before they reach maturity."

"Then what about Blaze?"

"If Blaze were to win the war in the next year (which is possible), her Kingdom would be in ruins within the next five. She is not well equipped to rule. And the circumstances to harden her into someone even half capable of the role, require a long and dark path that means this war will carry on for another twelve years."

Moon tried not to let this news frighten her. There had to be another solution, they couldn't just passively sit by and wait for the war to take its natural course. How many dragons would suffer if they did that? They were the two most powerful dragons in the world, right? Surely they could do something!

"W-What if we went to the NightWings?" she suggested shakily. The idea of going anywhere near her father voluntarily made her blood run cold. "What if we explained to them everything that's happened, and that we have a kingdom here for them-"

"They will not accept us," Darkstalker murmured tiredly, as if he already knew this old answer. "You are the traitor and your father the commander. And I am the monster from their worst nightmares. It will take something drastic for them to follow us."

"Then what about magic?"

"Moon," he gently laid his wing across her shoulders. "You don't honestly want me to use my magic to force dragons to stop fighting?"

"No," she groaned. "But I feel like we must do something. Or else what's the point in doing all this?"

"The future can change as quickly as a butterfly's wingbeat. Something can happen out there that might change the parametres of this impossible equation. An answer could present itself at any moment. All we need to do is wait for that, and then swoop in when the time is right."

She shook away his touch, though not unkindly, and paced back and forth. "But that just seems so… so… wasteful!"

"Wasteful?" His brows furrowed. "Biding our time and waiting for the opportunity to achieve the best outcome is not wasteful."

"I know. But how long will that take? And how many dragons will continue to suffer because we chose to wait?"

"Then what do you suggest?"

"I don't know, I just don't want to feel useless." And she sat on the cold road that sparkled silver under the moonlight. But not even its unique beauty could pull her from this sudden despair she was sinking into.

There was silence for a short time. And then she felt Darkstalker come to sit beside her, his great size vastly overshadowing her own. He did not drape a wing across her this time. Instead, he merely kept himself close, to offer warmth and comfort should she want it, but not presuming. The powerful drug that was his mind enveloped hers, the beautiful melody soothing her. But by bit, Moon felt her shoulders relax. It now seemed so silly, to have gotten so worked up so quickly. It was like an underground spring had built pressure without her realizing, until all her frustrations had burst out of the ground like a geyser.

"Moon," Darkstalker said quietly. "Do you trust me?"

She twined her tail around his. "You know I do."

He hummed happily. "Then you know I understand how you're feeling. Don't worry. We'll get out there soon. Your father is the mastermind behind this. If we stop him, we stop everything."

Was it wrong of Moon to want Morrowseer's downfall? He was her father, and as such, there would always be a tiny part of her that loved him, that wanted him to be good, that sought his approval. But she also couldn't ignore the fact that his actions were causing harm to countless dragons. That he had also treated her terribly. And those crimes couldn't just be ignored. Perhaps that was part of growing up? Realising that a parent was not due adulation and undying loyalty just because they'd played a part in your creation.

Beside her, Darkstalker stiffened. She was about to enquire why, when faintly, she heard a thought at the edge of her mind.

No treasure… worth this… must find…

Those were the thoughts of a dragon! But who had managed to get into the Kingdom? They hadn't seen anyone stumble across the Lost City since that SandWing thief.

Darkstalker shared a look with her. Swallowing thickly, she nodded. At once they were up into the sky, with him in the lead, as his telepathy was stronger than hers. Winging their way west, they were headed to the closest stretch of coastline. No wonder the thoughts they'd heard had been faint. Moon stretched out her mind, trying to pinpoint where the thoughts were coming from. And then she realised it was not one set of thoughts, but two!

And then she spotted them! Two SeaWings swimming through the shallows along the coast. They were obviously tired, and had travelled far. Their bodies were thin and their scales had several scratches. What were they doing so far from the Bay of a Thousand Scales?

They're not a threat. Darkstalker's voice cut through her thoughts. They're searching for… me?

Moon's head snapped up at that. What? Why?

Let's go find out.

They soared downwards towards the coast. Moon wanted to call Darkstalker back, that perhaps it wasn't wise of him to reveal himself. But he'd assured her they weren't a threat. And besides, thanks to his dramatic entrance into the world, didn't everyone already know he was alive?

Darkstalker roared when they were just a hundred feet above the shore. The SeaWings looked up, pointing spears. Circling lazily, Darkstalker made it obvious he was of no threat. Moon hung back a little, more cautious. She read the minds of the SeaWings, confirmed that they were indeed searching for a NightWing called 'the Darkstalker', and wondered if this giant of a dragon was the one. She followed Darkstalker to land on the beach, white sand flying into the air from the wind beneath their wings. They waited, Moon much more tense than Darkstalker seemed, and watched as the SeaWings cautiously approached. They dragged themselves out of the surf, but they stopped at the line of the waves, their eyes flickered between the two NightWings, suspicious.

"Good drakes," Darkstalker greeted them with effortless manners. "There is no need to be so icy. I am Darkstalker and this is Moon. Welcome to the Kingdom of Night!"

The two SeaWings looked at one another. The one on the left whispered, "Do you think…?"

"Too easy," said the one on the right. "Prove it!"

Darkstalker's eyes darted to Moon. She bit her lip, not comfortable with this situation whatsoever. Darkstalker… I give you permission to create a sphere of light that will float in your palm until you banish it.

Oh, he said excitedly. Very flashy, I like it. Ha! Get it? 'Flashy'? Because it's a light?

Moon tried very hard not to laugh and groan at the same time.

Holding out his talon, Darkstalker grinned and above his outstretched palm floated a ball of light, as bright as a torch. The SeaWings murmured with awe. Closing his fist, Darkstalker banished the sphere, and it disappeared with a flash and a crack like miniature thunder.

"Ser animus!" exclaimed the SeaWing on the right, thumping his spear into the sand. "We'd travelled a long way to find you. We spent months searching all the coastlines and rivers in the east."

The one on the left looked down, webbed spines drooping. Moon read something in his mind and blurted. "What happened to Starfish?"

The two SeaWings stared at her, their expressions a mixture of fear and suspicion once again. Darkstalker brushed her wing with his, and said: "Moon is a student of mine."

The pair seemed to accept this begrudgingly. The one on the left nodded his head solemnly. "In our travels we journeyed a little too far northeast. We ran into the territory of hunting sperm whales. Starfish got a little too close to one of their calves." The pair hung their heads in a quiet moment of grief.

"Why would you risk coming all this way?" Moon asked in sympathy.

"We were sent to find him." said the SeaWing on the right, pointing a claw at Darkstalker.

The ancient NightWing cocked a brow. "And what does Queen Coral want with me?"

"Not the Queen, Ser Animus. Princess Anemone sent us to deliver a message."

Darkstalker's brows shot up. "Oh, I wasn't expecting that."

"What does she want?" asked Moon.

"Princess Anemone requests that the NightWing Animus, Darkstalker, take her on as his pupil," said the guard. "She wishes to learn from a fellow animus, in order to truly master her skills."

Moon turned to watch Darkstalker. She wasn't so sure about all this, something in her stomach felt wrong. But Darkstalker seemed to be contemplating the offer, though his thoughts were closed off to her. Moon didn't want to think the worst, but having another animus here couldn't be good news, surely? It had only taken her so long to make Darkstalker less reliant on his magic, he hardly ever asked for it outside of the agreed-upon one spell a day. What if another animus made him want to use it again?

"I hardly think the Queen of the Sea would let her daughter come all this way." Moon said as a way to distract, to buy her time.

The SeaWings shrugged. "Princess Anemone is the one paying us. And she assures us she's handling that situation."

"Moon," Darkstalker said gently. "You've done so much for me in how best to use my animus powers. And haven't I done so much for you in teaching you how to best control your gifts?"

She looked away a little guiltily. "Yes,"

"Then wouldn't it be the right thing for me to do the same for Anemone?" he turned back to the SeaWings and spread his wings wide. "Go. Return to the Princess and tell her I happily accept her offer and she is welcome to come to the Kingdom of Night to begin her tutelage."

"There's a cove on the southern tip of the peninsula," Moon told them. "Spend a day or two there to rest and eat. No one will bother you."

The SeaWings appeared a bit confused as to why she would offer them such assurances. But they nodded their thanks, and returned to the sea. As soon as their tails dipped below the surface, they were invisible, and gone in a second.

"Just think of it, Moon!" Darkstalker said excitedly. "Very soon we'll have more company. This might even be the turning point we were looking for."

Moon did think about it. She thought about it all the way to her room as the sun began to rise. Round and round went her thoughts, attempting to rationalise her feelings and what was objectively the right choice. The idea of Anemone coming here made her feel nervous, she wouldn't deny that. The vision she'd had about Turtle and his sister still echoed through her memories. They'd been fighting, so wasn't that some kind of omen to be wary of the princess? Yet she'd learned in her time with Darkstalker not to base her opinions of dragons on things she saw in the future, for crimes they had yet to commit. So, was it a form of jealousy? She'd had Darkstalker's attention all to herself up until this point. She pulled a face. If that were true, then that was an extremely petty behaviour she would do well to correct. But she also felt excited to finally have someone living here in the Castle of Stars besides herself and Darkstalker. Maybe she was worrying for no reason, maybe this would all work out fine and she could laugh about these ridiculous insecurities later.

Laid out upon her bed, Moon yawned, sleep swiftly coming to claim her. Before she drifted off to sleep the day away, she allowed herself one small wish. That her friends might contact her soon. She wanted to be able to talk these insecurities out with them. They, with all their vastly different points of view, would be able to give her perspective. But it had been such a long time since they'd contacted her. Surely they still thought about her, right?

Morning's in the desert were not pleasant. As the sun rose, the temperature climbed high and fast in a very uncomfortable fashion. Especially during what the rest of Pyrrhia called the "summer" months, where any humidity that there could possibly have been had been snatched away. To escape such unpleasantness, Vulture lounged upon his golden throne in his lavish pavilion. He'd only just returned to the Scorpion Den three days ago, and it was good to be home again, to be surrounded by a lifetime's hard work of rewards. And yet, even with a bowl of dates close by and the cool marble floor soothing to the underside of his tail, he still felt in a sour mood.

Frustration made his temper short and he popped a date into his mouth. Yet not even its familiar taste proved satisfying, and he spat it out. What made things worse was that Vulture wasn't quite sure what had made him so upset. There was not one specific thing he could pinpoint as to why his mood had been constantly soured as of late. Perhaps it was a growing list of reasons.

It was the feeling he got when he knew a deal had gone bad. When he knew he should pull out but had already lost too much time and resources that needed to be accounted for. His alliance with Blister hadn't exactly been as he'd envisioned it. He'd sided with her because it seemed likely at the time that she would win the war, and it always worked out well if one were on the Queen's good side. After all, she'd just murdered Burn, arguably her only true competition. Being her muscle in the shadows, her eyes and ears across the Kingdom of Sand, had seemed like an opportunity of a lifetime. It had allowed Vulture to get a foothold in every region of the Kingdom, where other gangs once kept him out. And yet, this partnership with Blister (and with her NightWing allies too) wasn't as lucrative as he'd imagined.

Whilst he didn't mind the plunder his soldiers acquired from bullying Blister's helpless subjects, it felt insignificant compared to what he'd expected to be sent his way. After all, he was the one making sure Blister's rule was absolute. Yes, her soldiers were big and intimidating and the stories of her methods of torture frightened most into obediance; it was Vulture and his talons of power that truly kept the peace. They made sure the little uprisings were squashed in the dead of night. They reported all the whispers they heard of civil unrest that would lead into mobs if unchecked. And they were the ones actively hunting down Thorn and her band of Outclaws.

And what was the reward? More struggle to keep this territory, no recognition or consolation from the Queen herself. Not even a sack of gold a month for his troubles. And frankly, Vulture was getting rather tired of it all. In fact, he was getting very tired of Blister's inability to lead whatsoever. She commanded loyalty through fear, not respect, and though her cruelty was amusing, it proved pointless as all it did was incite others to fight back. More often than not, Vulture felt like a Blister's nanny, always cleaning up her mess, yet never acknowledged or given true purpose.

The emerald studded doors swung open and in strutted Rattlesnake - slender and spite etched into every line and curve. And her brother, Sirocco - big, muscled and as stupid as his expression. They halted just outside the shade of his pavilion.

"Grandfather," Rattlesnake swept a wing aside and folded into a deep bow. "We are hon-"

"Get up, Rattlesnake, I have no patience for you licking the floor today," Vulture snapped. Rattlesnake seemed surprised and then angry to have had her thunder stolen. But the old gangster couldn't care less. "What is it?"

"We caught a little spy skulkin' round Thorn's old place!" said Sirocco in his deep bass voice.

Vulture popped a small tablet of chalk into his mouth, enjoying the loud crunch on his teeth. "And why would any of this interest me?"

His two grandchildren paused and glanced at once another. Good. The pair seemed to realise how dangerous his short temper was and how they were both treading that thin line.

"Grandfather," Rattlesnake began a little more cautiously. "You remember the scavenger who got you that nice gold dragon skull bowl?"

"And then stole your triple ruby spoon?" Sirocco added, only for his sister to thump him hard on the flank.

Vulture's eyes narrowed. Oh, he did remember that one. A SandWing that grew up in the heart of the Scorpion Den and knew the only way to survive was to steal and cheat your way through every day. Not big enough or strong enough to compete with the other thieves vying for territory, she'd taken to scouting old ruins and abandoned places for trinkets to sell on. But her lust for gold had grown into an addiction, until her mind became addled and she soon became a hoarder. That was what had landed her in trouble. She, in her gold-crazed haze, had decided to steal from the most powerful crime boss in all the desert. Vulture had put a bounty on her head that very afternoon.

"Three moons," he murmured. This upcoming torture might actually lift his spirits after all. "The crazed snake actually came back." He nodded to his grandchildren. "Send her in."

Sirocco buried back through the emerald doors across the gardens and shouted for someone. In came two guards dragging behind them a squirming SandWing female. She was thin, her scales cracked and one leg looked gammy. Though bound and chained and clearly beaten, the female fought like a rabid wolf, screeching incoherent nonsense. The two soldiers dumped her in front of Vulture's dias, pinning her down so she would not jump up and fight anymore.

"Ahhhh, Picker," Vulture sighed, for now he recognised her. The years hadn't been kind. "It's so nice of you to come home. We've all missed you so terribly."

"Can't!" she yelled immediately. Vulture's eye twitched at the interruption. "Can't keep me here! Have ta get back! The Master demands!"

"What were you doing in the Outclaws' old den?" he asked, deciding to cut the theatrics. He'd save that for when he actually tortured her. "Do you work for them?"

She spat. "They ain't worthy! Only the Master!"

"Do you know where I can find the Outclaws' location, Picker? I'm very anxious to see Thorn, you understand."

"Master'll get ya! He'll do ya good for keepin' me 'ere!" she made to lunge, surprising her guards. But Rattlesnake pressed the tip of her deadly tail against the other female's throat.

"If you weren't looking for Thorn, then why did you come here?" his granddaughter asked.

Usually, Vulture would reprimand her for presuming to take control of this situation. But in this instance, with a headache forming, he let it slide. "Yes, especially when you know I've had a bounty on your head for the past six years."

Picker tried not to move but still avoided eye contact. "Gatherin'."

"That's what I thought," Vulture hummed. "How much gold did she have on her?"

The guards looked at each other. "Ummm, none, sir."

"What?" Vulture's thunderous expression snapped to them. How was it possible for an addict such as her to be wandering around, brain-addled, yet have absolutely nothing of value?

The guards cowered back. "She, um, had nothing on her, sir."

Vulture's lip curled over his teeth. "Well, Picker. Thank you for disappointing me, yet again. You've turned this entire morning into a rather dissatisfying experience. I'd like to-"

"Gotta let me go!" she screeched, throwing herself against her chains. "Lemme return to the Master-!"

"Who is the sun-blasted 'master'?!" Vulture shouted, temper snapping.

Picker paused, and then cackled. "He is the one. He be a NightWing but he is also Master - he makes the world bend. No Queens or Kingdoms can compare - he 'as magic! And he'll be King of the NightWings too, just ya watch!"

"Who is he?"

"The Darkstalker!"

Where had he heard that name before? Ah, yes! When Blister had taken all her forces out to unsuccessfully crush the rebellion at the start of the year. Her forces had come back wailing like dragonets about a monster dragon that had risen out of the ground like the dead come to life. They'd called him the Darkstalker. But nothing had been heard about him since, so Vulture had presumed it either a hoax or unimportant. But now…

It was possible Picker was making this all up. But the chances were extremely low. Picker was never in the right state of mind to absorb much current news, so to fabricate this story just to get of trouble was beyond her capabilities. And she was not acting like herself. She behaved the wills of her master with slave-like devotion, completely forsaking her own addiction in order to please him. Did that mean that some part of this was somewhat truthful?

If that were so, then Vulture was rather intrigued by the idea. An animus had been set loose on the world with no supervision. And a male too. He was seizing power, something Vulture hadn't seen in all his many long decades. When he'd been young, it would be unthinkable for a male to try and rise above his station. For one to do so now felt almost… inspiring.

And, to be honest, with magic at one's disposal, that meant they had the capacity to grant better results in a more pleasing time frame. A quality Vulture found himself wanting to become quite familiar with…

Author's Note: Hey everyone! I'm back! And I want to start off by saying a huge thank you to all of you guys for getting this story to 200+ reviews! You guys are amazing, you cannot imagine how much this means to me.

* - lovingly paraphrasing Susan Kay

And also, if I haven't said it before, I'll say it now. Jeremy Irons is my casting choice for Vulture. It's just perfect.

Would love to hear all your thoughts and comments please!