INTERLUDE

Dan'l wearily slipped into one of the hidden sea caves that dotted Monks' Mountain Island, wanting nothing more than to shuck his oilskins and submerge himself in one of the hotspring-fed bathing pools; with a drop of a Breath of Life posset in hand. They were exhausted, all of them. Sickened by the slaves found still caged on one of the barren islands, an island without shelter, food or water. Angry tears stung his eyes, as Brother Ngu'tra slapped a shell drinking-horn into his chilled hands, Ngu's palest jade-green eyes, are also too bright. If not for that generous oddball that bought Eerie Island, there would have been a helluva lot more dead, The Team knew it, everyone knew it.

Dan'l found Brother Ngu'tra frowning. "What?" His gold-green wolf eyes suddenly focused.

Ngu'tra inclined his bald head, all except for his scalplock and tattoos that is. "Look, wolfen one! This was found on . . . Eerie Island! Know you how many sick with scald and blister this amount of Ebelon root could heal?" Shaking his head, the tiny bells plaited within the scalplock tingled faintly. Ngu'tra abruptly inhaled sharply, heads swivel around. The holoscreen that softly burned like a golden lamp, blazed upwards, turning a fiery-red.

From out of another tunnel, Stewg, Moroan, Faz, Angel, Carz, Than'l, Alizon, Firesprite, Ma'tow, and Cri'son came at a lope. It is Dan'l Wolfling who tapped the glowing red holographic lamp in this, their hidden barracks. Moroan's fathomless black on black eyes narrow, reaching out a fingertip with claw, he taps rapidly, the holograph shifts. His breath was drawn in over tightly clenched teeth as an aerial view of Eerie Island and its ocean currents appeared. "By Chaos' Claw!" Moroan snarled low, "When we catch these carrion-eaters who sold these Newlings this island, I am going to see entrails stretched and woven into nets!"

Dan'l Wolfling grinned, showing some very sharp, white enamel. "Easy, easy, first we have to get moving. Look at the number of Serrex!" There were hundreds of them. Some were dead, yes, but there were far too many on piles of drift, some wounded, others unharmed, waiting for wherever the currents will take them. Eramore Island's southeastern current will literally, deliver them right up to the rocky shores of Monks' Mountain Island!

Brother Ngu'tra was almost vibrating in place, tapping another holographic screen, zooming in, hissing low, "Blood Vine!" Shaking his head, but seeing other things, including, to all their shock, a tangle of brilliant violet in the massive clog of flotsam, jetsam and drift that had been jammed up against the northwestern end of the island, pinned there by The Needles, currents and storms. It had made a perfect stairway from the sea, to the island and forest within.

Alizon and Firesprite were already rolling out vacu-chests and crates, lids hiss up, weapons and ammunition, charges are checked and re-checked. "Ngu," Firesprite sings out, "How much liquid fire do you need for that damn blood plant?"

"A true hogshead," Ngu'tra mutters, "To make certain, then, ten firkens of blood, poisoned, so any rootlets will seek it and perish. That is something, like the Serrex, that must never get off that island! By the Ancestors of All! Look at that! In the lagoon, they are . . . not extinct! Give thanks, Brothers and Sisters of The Old Ways that we, Shadow Siblings, have come together in time!" There was a low murmur of agreement, as Carz smacked energizing hot drinks into everyone's hands. This was not going to be a night or day of rest.

Dan'l Wolfling gave a low hoot of amusement. "Hamish is already moving out. One of the

Newlings has been wounded, how badly is not yet known. There is also this . . .," he paused, his eyes iridesce in the growing shadows of the sea cave, "Something has already shredded some Serrex." His sharp canines spark white in the dimness as he grins, more a feral barring of his teeth. "A certain rose sent Hamish off with the Rangers, but this is beyond them. It needs specialists."

Angel grunted, "Like us! This is what happens when you get a band of old star hounds and sea dogs stuffing their faces on fish'n'chips, dark apple ale, spiced mind you, in a certain waterfront tavern!" With ease, he hefts out three hogsheads, empty, at least for now, but lashed into the cargo-hold with strong cargo-nets.

Firesprite eyes Angel levelly, "Old?" she snorts, "I am not old, I am . . .experienced!" Which brought low howls of laughter and hooted whistles. Firesprite barely looked legal age, but, she has the right of it, she was wise and experienced, they all are. They had brought together their collective knowledge and wisdom to benefit a world they love, one that was beginning to taint and fray on the fringes, getting worse each solar year. More and more filthy damn Jacks, jacking down to the planet, using it for a bloody garbage dump, not caring what they were dumping, be it living cargo, flora, fauna or humanoid! The cages of deadly, deadly sea spider-kraits were gotten just in time.

Ma'tow had raised the issue of bringing the ancient orbiting satellites back online.

Old they might be, but they could still send out a signal if anymore damn Jacks, short for jackals, carrion-eaters, try to secretly planet-down again. It was Dan'l Wolfling who jerryrigged so much of their equipment, with lots of help from that Old Timer, Jim and his lovely lady, Arlene. Old Jim has never minded when they set to tinkering in one of his many long-barns or his boathouses, all nicely hidden in a narrow inlet on Old Jim's island. Rumors had it that long, long ago, Jim's own forebears were some of the very first settlers here on Zerichs; Gentlemen of the Stars kind of settlers.

Moroan's voice disturbed others, "Hoch, Dirkar! Slipped your chains again, huh?"

The youngling grinned, hastening to fasten his coveralls, nodding curtly to everyone. He is one of the newest members of this elite shadow force of Zerichs. He was a huge help when they were trying to get some of the child-thralls, rescued in the Star Port to talk to anyone. Dirkar knew all about fear, being afraid. He singlehandedly rescued a family aboard a floundering houseboat. Dirkar is the one whose experiments revealed the strange canoe-casings that seasonally erupt here and there, can be packed with hot sand, left to season, to bake in the sun. That way, they do not shrivel up, flatten, but harden into the most amazing pontoons for Zerichs' catamarans ever known! Yes, they shrivel some, but just enough so that they are literally like armor plates!

He was out running one of his newly concocted craft with eight pontoons, zigzagged, sail-rigged, when he came across the floundering houseboat. A houseboat full of Elders and younglings, all very sick and frightened. So powerful are those dried canoe-casings, Dirkar kept that houseboat from sinking, kept everyone alive too, until he was within signal distance of Old Jim's place by loosing four of his casings, tying them onto the house-boat, where obviously, something had gotten to the buoyancy tanks.

A good eight or so of them were at Jim's place, hard to hide what they were doing from Dirkar, he knew too much about tinkering and such. The truth was, Dan'l Wolfling was gobsmacked by

Dirkar's experimental use of the canoe-casings that wash up every second Summer season or so. It was not long before Dirkar was showing them where to find the canoe-casings and how much sand to use, allowing for the necessary shrinkage that makes them armor-up as Dirkar called it. Brilliant is what the rest of the team calls it, damn brilliant.

Star is not far behind Dirkar, she and Neko. The pair of them gave the Zeraven Irregular signal, hurried in to join the forming teams. Dan'l turned away, wondering what kind of catalyst had come to

Zerichs? This is the same pair who aided those poor slaves hidden in the Space Port, as well as a few other folk from what some have passed along. Here, one was judged not by birth, rank or species, but by one's deeds! What was believed a rumor about a thought-to-be-extinct plant, Ebelon, was not a rumor! Hamish shot a zip to Ngu'ta of all kinds of flora and some fauna, thought wiped out during the Colonial Era of decimation. Ngu'ta was so excited it was hard to hold him back. There was no telling exactly what they were going to be finding on Eerie Island, it was going to be the Zeraven Irregulars' first full mission . . .

Author's note: As you may be aware of, my mother and I are trying desperately to save our house and pay the owed property taxes before the June 1st due date. As such, that has left us with precious little time for writing.

This was a gift from my Mother to all those who were kind enough to donate. She wrote this, and I edited it, so I will say that all of this chapter was written by my mother, as a gift.

-CelfwrDderwydd and Great Mother;)