55

"So he united all the Oni…"

Keyda sat cuddled next to Cole as she nursed a cup of tea by the crackling fireplace. Cole had the scroll opened across his lap.

"Yeah…there aren't any scrolls before this one, but according to Phos the Oni were really tribal and struggled in their fight against the dragons because they were so busy fighting each other…."

"The war lasted so long." Keyda mused. Cole nodded and tightened his grip around her shoulders.

"It's…pretty crazy. But thanks to you, we don't have to worry about that anymore."

She snorted.

"Didn't have much to do with me…all I did was allow myself to get roped into this mess…"

"Hey, that's still something," he teased. "And no matter what you think, the truth is you're doing a really good job."

She leaned her head against his shoulder.

"Whatever…"

"I'm serious! I mean, the dragons are free…the villages are getting safer and stronger…the slave trade's been abolished…"

She squeezed his hand.

"I had good help."

The tent looked strange from a distance, and as they got closer it was clear to see why.

"Oh no!" Syn cried. It didn't take long to figure out what had happened. Phos shook his head, eyeing the mess with irritation.

"No doubt it broke free and made off with the roots…"

Syn immediately got to work trying to fix the tent, and after a half hour or so the two of them were able to get the pole upright and the tent more or less back in order.

"Sniffer must have really pulled at this…" Phos noted. "That pole hasn't been moved in more than half a century…"

"The roots are still here…" Syn pointed out; the tent's collapse had knocked things off of the tables and shelves, including the bag of roots. But as far as she could tell, nothing had been eaten. "I don't understand…"

"Could be there's just too much wild animal in her and she couldn't stand being locked up." Phos pointed out, scratching his chin. He finally just shook his head. "You and Hershel will have to clean everything up in the morning. And if that sniffer comes back it is not welcome inside…"

"We have to go find her!"

"If it wants to come back, it'll come back. No use running off into the dark. Where is that brother of yours, anyways?"

Syn's expression darkened and she finally looked up at her master.

"He went to collect herbs…and he was upset when he left." She bit her lip. "He's been so distant lately. Did…did something happen? He usually talks to me…."

Phos stopped on his way back to the front room. He finally scoffed, shrugging.

"Teenage mood swings…what do you want me to say?"

Syn watched the flap flutter closed and then looked around at the mess. She finally tugged the blanket out from its spot under a table and wrapped herself in it as she sat on her mat, watching the back door flap as she waited for Hershel to come home.

It was late, but Oilen didn't mind the midnight call. He threw open the doors to his throne room and strode in.

"They found him, then?" He asked breathlessly, and his advisor nodded. The leader gestured wildly. "Bring them in, for ancient's sakes."

A few moments later two guards entered the room, one carrying a net-wrapped form over one shoulder. He dumped it on the ground, and the Northern Leader frowned.

"I can't even see anything in all that mess…"

The guards moved at his impatient tone, untangling the thin Oni. When the boy was finally visible Oilen stroked his beard, thinking.

"He's unconscious…how am I supposed to know if he truly has power or if that old witch was lying?"

"Oh, he's got power…" one of the guards growled. Both men showed the leader the burns on their arms and in their clothes. "That's the reason we had to keep knocking him out…every time he woke up he'd attack."

Oilen's eyes glittered with excitement as he knelt down for a closer look at the unassuming boy.

"How very exciting…now the only question is, how do we extract the power…." he turned to his advisor. "Don't rest until you have an answer…we need to weaponize this so we can go against that childish ruler…"

The Advisor bowed and rushed off, and one of the guards scratched his chin.

"He's a wild one, when he's awake…how you gonna keep him locked up? With that kind of power…"

Oilen looked back down at the thin boy, smiling slightly.

"Oh…there are ways to keep him contained…to make sure he can't just run off…"

He looked back up at the guards again.

"You weren't seen?"

"No sir…not that we were aware of…"

"Good. I can't imagine a healer trekking across the realm to find one small slave…but if he knew about his power source then perhaps the boy was valuable to him."

He looked at the unconscious boy one last time, a grin spreading across his face.

"This will change everything."

The fire was dying down. Cole and Keyda had fallen asleep propped up against the chair in her room, the scroll still partly open on his lap.

"It's only a matter of time…"

Cole stirred and opened his eyes. As he did he froze, his blood running cold. A few feet away the Alchemist was sitting staring at him, and she smiled as they made eye contact.

"Don't get too comfortable," she chided, reaching out to touch him.

Cole bolted awake, a hand flying up to his braid. He clutched it like a lifeline, eyes darting around the room. The Alchemist was gone…it was just a dream. He leaned back against the chair, his breathing slowing as he tried to get his heartrate down.

"Cole?"

Keyda's voice was soft and she sat up to rub her eyes, his sudden movements having woken her up. She looked over at him, still clutching his braid, and frowned.

"Nightmare?"

"Um…" he swallowed. "Yeah. I'm fine…it was just…"

She leaned her head on his shoulder, threading her arm around his waist.

"It's not real…but it feels like it," she guessed, and he didn't answer. "She can't get you…she's trapped, and you have that spell..."

"I know," he finally murmured, his arm finally dropping as he released the braid. "I know."

He turned and gave her a shaky smile and her embrace tightened.

"Don't worry, Idiot…I'll protect you," she promised, and he finally laughed.

"Ah, in that case…" he said, moving an arm to go around her shoulders. They stayed like that, lost in their own thoughts until the fire had finally died and someone came to summon Keyda to begin another busy day.

Syn shivered and opened her eyes. The tent was lit up with sunlight, and she slowly sat up, still clutching the blanket in one hand. Her eyes went straight over to Hershel's mat, but he wasn't there. Her heart began pounding…where was her brother?! He had never stayed out all night…

She moved silently over to where Master Healer was sleeping on his own mat, but then hesitated. She had never dared wake him before, but the awful feeling wouldn't go away. She finally knelt down next to him, reaching out to touch his shoulder. He didn't stir and she bit her lip, shaking his shoulder a little until the old Healer finally woke. He squinted at her, expression angry, and she let out a shuddering exhale.

"Hershel didn't come home last night…" she finally said, and Phos sat up, eyes flicking over to the empty mats.

"Get the tea on…" he finally croaked, and Syn swallowed before following the order. Phos pushed himself up and headed over to the doorway. He pushed it open, blinking in the sunlight of dawn.

"Where is that boy…" he finally muttered, scratching his chin. He began walking up the path, but he had only gotten a few yards when he stopped dead. He looked down at the dirt, his brow furrowing as he slowly lowered himself. There was a scuffle here… his eyes flicked over the space, spotting drips of dark, dried blood in the dirt. He spotted traces of footprints, a few small, coming away from the tent, and a few larger that seemed to lead up to the ridge. He swallowed…it could be that the villagers had finally caught the sniffer and put an end to it…but his instinct told him that it was more involved than just that. He was beginning to have an awful feeling.

He turned and stood so he could follow the small trail of blood away from where the scuffle occurred. He heard a sudden patter of footsteps and turned to stop Syn in her tracks.

"You'll disturb the trail…" he warned, and she clenched her jaw and nodded her understanding, making sure to follow him slowly and at a distance.

Phos followed Nip's trail away from the path, picking out blood in the dirt and brushed up against rocks. Eventually he came to a large boulder with a space underneath. As he crouched to see underneath it, he could make out matted grey fur.

"Here's your sniffer…" he finally muttered, and Syn gasped.

"The blood…it was from…" she trailed off, her voice constricting with horror. She ran past Phos, crouching down to talk to Nip. Phos wasn't sure if the creature was even alive…but at Syn's pleading and coaxing the creature stirred. It wouldn't come out from under the rock, and Syn finally just risked the bite and reached under to pull Nip out. The animal let out a pitiful noise; it was clearly in pain.

"Oh Nip…" Syn said, pulling her into her lap. There was a long slash that started at Nip's neck and raced down her back, and her fur was matted with dried blood. In some places it was still bleeding, and as Syn tenderly picked her up and turned to Phos with tears in her eyes Nip let out another yelp, kicking out at the pain from being moved.

"Can I…can I take her back to the tent?" she asked, her small voice thick with emotion. Phos didn't answer right away, still observing the wound.

"Sword…" he muttered. Which villagers were wealthy enough to own a sword? No….more likely they would have used a sharp farming tool or fire; either one worked just as well on sniffers. Who had attacked her? He turned back to the boulder, frowning, and crouched to peer under it. There was blood smeared on the top of the small cavern, but he was more interested in the small scrap that fluttered in the back. He fished it out and brought it closer for a better look.

"What is that?" Syn asked quietly, Nip having finally calmed down in her arms. Phos rubbed the piece of cloth in his hand; far too nice for any villager…and the color scheme would place it belonging to…

He looked up sharply, finally understanding. Syn watched in shock as he moved quickly back to the tent and began following, though she couldn't move as fast as her master without jarring Nip. By the time she finally got there and pushed her way in, Phos had a satchel stocked and was heading out.

"Where are you going?!"

He turned, his eyes flashing, and grabbed his crossbow from its place next to a few other tools. He came back over to her, kneeling down.

"You know where the salve and bandages are…you can keep your sniffer here and treat it. You are not to leave this tent…do you understand?"

Syn's eyes were wide; something was wrong, and she was almost too afraid to ask what it was.

"If anyone comes in here who isn't me or Hershel…shoot them." He handed Syn the crossbow and she looked down at it, overwhelmed.

"Master Healer…"

"I mean it Syn…do not leave this tent." Phos snapped, cutting her off. "I should be back later tonight… but if I am not…" he trailed off, jaw clenching. "I will be back later tonight." And with that, he was gone.

The first two things Hershel registered were the pain and the cold. He gasped as he finally regained consciousness, his mind cloudy with fear and throbbing as he tried to move. Chains clattered and he squinted in the darkness, unable to see anything. He exhaled shakily and power flickered around his hands, providing light. His wrists were locked in cuffs connected to a thick, long chain, and his eyes followed the chain to a sturdy iron hoop embedded in the stony wall. He realized he was lying on moist, dirty stone…and he was freezing. He tried to move his legs so he could push himself up, but fiery agony shot up at the attempt and he let out a choked wail. He twisted, trying to look at his legs, but it was hard to see them in his current position. Aura winds began stirring the dirt in the dungeon cell as he began to panic.

There was a clang that echoed in the room, and his eyes darted up to the door on the opposite side of the cell. Orange light flickered in the cracks around the door, and after a few moments the door opened and a tall, robed man entered with a torch.

"You have power after all…I was beginning to worry I had wasted effort on you."

Hershel almost vomited as the realization hit. They had figured it out…his powers had been discovered and now he was locked in some dungeon…

The man came closer, and in the torchlight Hershel could make out his long thin beard and excited expression.

"Is that all you've got, boy?" he murmured. Hershel glared, his eyes flashing as his hands burned with fear and anger. But the pain kicked in again as he tried to shift position and his power dimmed as he squeezed his eyes closed.

"You…you broke my legs…" he finally managed, his tone accusing, and the man laughed.

"Had to be sure you couldn't run away…"

Aura blazed around Hershel again, though he made no move to change position again. The man tutted.

"Calm down, boy….I could've cut them off completely, couldn't I? But I didn't want to lose you to blood loss. No, I need your power, see, so I can finally get rid of the insolent slave on the throne…"

Hershel panted on the stone, eyes still closed.

"You want me to kill Keyda…" he muttered, and the man's pitchy laughter cut in again.

"Ancient's no…a weak scrap like you? Once I figure out how to extract your power I and my army will do that." He looked around at the aura wind spinning around them and shook his head. "Now, you behave boy… and I may even remember to feed you…"

Hershel finally opened his eyes as the man went to leave. The boy swallowed, glaring.

"My master will come for me…"

The man stopped, turning to scoff with a patronizing expression.

"What…the healer?" He laughed at the idea, shaking his head. "And what can he do against my army boy?"

Hershel's eyes flashed again and the leader continued to laugh.

"I'll tell you what…if your master shows up, I'll give him a new slave to replace you, fair is fair. Do you really think it matters to him which slaves he has as long as his chores get done? It's not like he cares about you personally…"

Hershel moved suddenly, launching a large attack of power at the man. Oilen's smile disappeared as he dodged out of the way, and the mis-aimed blast hit the wall behind him. The Leader's expression darkened as he glanced at the dark spot and then back at the child, and he crossed the cell in a few long strides. Hershel powered up for another strike, but Oilen kicked the boy mercilessly in the legs. The power evaporated as Hershel screamed out in agony, instinctively curling up to protect himself, but Oilen grabbed his hair and yanked him up so he could leer into the boy's face.

"You think you're special, huh?" the Leader murmured, and tears coursed down Hershel's face as he tried to force the bearded man to release his grasp. Rather than let him go, Oilen shook him a little for emphasis. "You're nothing…useless…the only thing you have is that power…and it isn't going to be yours much longer. No one cares about you…not your 'master', not me…not even your own mother…."

He threw Hershel back to the ground as he laughed.

"She's the one who sold you out…" he taunted, and he went to leave. He turned in the doorway, scoffing at the figure shaking on the dirty stone.

"No one's coming for you, boy."

The door slammed shut.

56

"Slave traders?"

"A lot of them," Omar admitted. Keyda pressed a hand to her head, sighing.

"I'd ask what on earth they wanted…but I'm pretty sure that I already know…"

She walked out on the balcony so she could see for herself. Sure enough, there was a mob of traders yelling and cursing up at her, shaking fists.

"Gee, how inviting," Cole commented dryly, coming up behind her.

"I guess I was expecting this kind of reaction though." Keyda turned and left the balcony, walking swiftly towards the entrance. Cole frowned, following closely behind her with Omar and Retrevan.

"Keyda…"

"I think it's time for a nice little discussion…"

"Keyda," he tried again, grabbing her arm. "I think you could discuss things on the balcony…there's no need to rush out there in the middle of…"

"I'm not afraid of them…and I need them to know that," she argued. Cole's grip relaxed and she tugged her arm gently from his grasp. "So let's go break the news,"

He shook head as he watched her throw open the doors to face the angry crowd. He and the two guards followed her out as she glared at the slave traders.

"Gentlemen…." she said coldly, and one of the closest traders spat at her. Retrevan slowly pulled his sword from its sheath, and the traders looked over at him, understanding the implied threat.

"This is about the slave trade order, I'm sure..." Keyda continued patronizingly, and the traders began talking and yelling at once again. Her eyes blazed and she shook her head at them.

"You've had your time to come and gripe about it…but none of you are going to change my mind. I know your trade has been ruined…but it had been going on far too long. Just look at this as your new opportunity to actually help the realm…"

"This realm runs on slaves! The fortresses will collapse…yours included, wench!"

She drew herself up.

"I am your ruler." she reminded fiercely, and the man who had spoken out glanced away. She regarded them all and scoffed.

"Go home, all of you. And know that if you are caught slave trading again, I will see you again in my dungeon."

They grumbled and didn't seem to move, and Omar drew his own sword.

"She said clear off!" he demanded, and a few began turning to go, though a majority seemed to be sizing up the group as if they wondered if they could take them. Keyda resisted the urge to roll her eyes as flames began licking her hands, and Cole powered up his earth punch so the traders knew that if they wanted a fight, they were ready to give it to them. More turned to go, remembering the rumors they had heard about the night of the rebellion.

Keyda and those with her and nearly turned to go inside when a man wheezed in laughter.

"Enjoy it while you can, girl….you aint going to be in power much longer…"

She turned to look at the older trader. He was wearing thick furs, and he didn't seem intimidated by her flashing eyes. Retrevan and Omar watched her closely to see if she would order the man's arrest. She finally scoffed.

"Watch me."

They turned and went inside, the door closing behind them.

"We would have taken care of them for you…" Omar finally said, and she turned to the short guard.

"I want them to know I am not afraid of them…but I won't destroy them merely for voicing their anger." She shook her head. "I'm not like the Baron. If they break the law than we will arrest them, and if they attack us then we fight. But I can handle their words without bloodshed."

"Do you think there was something more to that last man's threat?" Retrevan asked softly and she frowned.

"I don't know. Increase the outer guard, and use whatever networks we have in place to see what rumors are spreading." She turned to her guards. "I'm not ruthless…but I'm not stupid either. We will need to keep on our toes until this more or less blows over."

"Then you think it will, eventually?" Omar asked, and she finally smiled grimly.

"Eventually."

The guard yelled at him to halt, but a blast sent the man flying backwards as Phos raged through the fortress hallways. He had located the slave entrance and it didn't take much to convince the slaves to point him in the right direction; they had heard that a boy with powers had been taken down to the dungeons.

The guard groaned as Phos pushed his way into the dungeons, his fists blazing with light as he looked around.

"Hershel!"

There was no answer and his expression darkened further and he began blasting the doors off their hinges in all the cells. In several there were prisioners who cried out in fear, but none of the cells seemed to hold a thin boy with freckles and he moved swiftly down the hall.

"Hershel!"

He blasted another door and nearly walked by, thinking it was empty. However something caused him to pause and he peered back into the cell. There, in the shadows near the back wall, there was a thin form lying face-down on the stone floor. Phos entered quickly and made it to the figure, turning the boy over. He exhaled as he recognized the pale freckled face. The healer's hands were shaking in rage as he smoothed Hershel's hair. The boy's skin was cold and clammy…he had been down here for hours.

He turned his attention to the chains around Hershel's wrists and carefully blasted the locks. The boy stirred slightly as the cuffs clattered to the floor. He groaned and Phos slid a hand behind his neck.

Hershel's eyes blinked open, and Phos felt him relax as he saw who was with him.

"You came…" he breathed, and Phos clenched his jaw.

"Did they hurt you?"

Hershel swallowed at his master's severe tone, eyes flicking away.

"Um…my legs…I can't…"

Phos removed his hand so he could turn his attention to the boy's legs. Hershel's captors hadn't even bothered to bind them. The Healer studied them for a moment before he gently laid a hand on one of them, carefully feeling the placement of the bone. He felt Hershel flinch and his expression darkened.

"…They broke your legs…"

The Healer's voice was barly audible, and when Hershel looked over at his master's face it was stony with rage.

Footsteps echoed suddenly down the hall and someone could be heard storming in their direction.

"Who dares…"

Phos didn't even turn as Oilen entered the room, fuming. His personal guard soon caught up, and Phos noticed Hershel shrink back ever so slightly.

"Who are you?!" the Northern Leader demanded, and Phos's fists clenched. He finally turned and Oilen's eyes flicked over his outfit. The bearded man relaxed somewhat, suddenly amused.

"The healer…" he scoffed. "Looks like your 'master' came for his little slave after all…" He shook his head. "Get out of here, old man…this is a matter of political importance…and last I heard Healers aren't allowed to get involved…"

Hershel could see that Phos was trembling with rage, and the young Oni's brow furrowed with worry.

"Master Healer…don't…" he murmured. Things were bad enough without Phos getting exposed as well.

"Don't make me have to throw you out…" the leader threatened. "Someone as ancient as you is bound to get hurt. Step away from my little power source or…"

"He is not yours." Phos finally spoke, tone deadly.

The Leader scoffed again, turning to his guards.

"Get this kook out of my sight…" he muttered and the guards moved towards Phos. The Anicent Oni's hands and arms suddenly blazed with power.

Oilen took a step back, taken by surprise, and Phos launched an attack, forcing the guards and the leader to move out of the way.

"Get him…" Oilen demanded numbly, struggling to process what was happening.

The guards looked at the blazing Oni with fear, but those in front approached slowly with their spears. Two blasts sent them flying back and the guards around Oilen balked backwards, causing a flash of panic in the leader's own heart.

"Kill him!"

Arrows blasted towards them, but Phos seemingly evaporated them without much effort and began walking towards the leader and his guards. Oilen clenched his jaw, glancing over at where Hershel was as he slowly backed up. If the healer took the source of power, Oilen's plans would be ruined…

"You can take the boy…" he growled softly as he continued his retreat, his hands up in defeat. Phos scoffed.

"I wasn't waiting for your permission…" he muttered darkly.

"Just…just give me some power first. That's all I needed him for…"

"So you thought you would just take him." Phos's power blazed stronger. "Lock him up and beat him…break him…"

"He's just a slave for ancient's sake…" the Leader said defensively, rambling. "I…I thought you kept him for his power, but you obviously didn't need him for that…so the question is, why did you come all this way for him?"

"Because no one messes with what is mine…"

Phos blasted Oilen backwards, and the leader flew out of the doorway and slammed into the outer hallway. He grimaced as he slid down, fixing Phos with a frightened glare.

"You cannot kill me…you are bound to stay out of politics…

"Oh, this isn't politics…" Phos sent another blast, and Oilen yelled in pain. "This is personal."

Oilen watched as the Healer came closer, heart pounding in his ears. This deranged man was going to kill him. He slipped his hand into his boot, closing around the small dagger sheathed within. His eyes flicked around the Healer, to where the guards in the cell had regained their feet.

"Kill the boy!"

They turned towards Hershel, swords drawn, and Phos twisted away from Oilen to look back into the cell, his hands blazing with another attack. Oilen moved suddenly, whipping his dagger out and burying it into Phos's back. The Elderly Healer cursed, stumbling.

"NOO!"

The guards were blasted away from Hershel as power exploded from the boy. The last thing Hershel saw before blacking out from his aural outburst was Phos stumbling as Oilen pulled the blade out for another blow.

The blast exploded out of the cell, throwing both Phos and Oilen to the ground before the leader could land another strike. The dagger clattered out of his hand, and he shakily pushed himself up off the stone. He looked to see the Healer pushing himself back up as well, and his blood ran cold. The old fool should be dead…

Oilen wiped blood from his mouth as he took off running down the hall, trying to escape upstairs where he had more guards. He was yelling out for backup with something hit him from behind. Dark aura poured around the leader, constricting around him. Oilen screamed in fear and frustration as the aura pulled him up into the air. He spun slowly, and soon was looking back towards the Healer. Phos's gnarled hands were raised in the air as aura poured out of him, his long silver hair whipping in the aura wind as he fixed the Northern Leader with a murderous gaze.

Oilen struggled. "You can't…do this…."

The power constrained tighter and Phos shook his head, disgusted.

"You snake…did you really think you could steal from me and live to flaunt about it?"

"It was a mistake!" the leader gasped. "I…I beg for mercy…"

Phos's eyes flashed and Oilen screamed out one last time in agony. A moment later the aura dissolved and the leader's body fell to the earth. Phos's eyes faded as he regarded the dead leader with revulsion.

"Not really my thing," he finally muttered in reply, sagging as a sudden fatigue hit, mixing with the pain in his back. He swallowed and picked his way back to the cell. It was silent as he stumbled back into the damp stone room.

"Hershel?"

The young teen's eyes were closed and he wasn't moving…Phos rushed across the cell and knelt down to check the boy's pulse. He exhaled slowly as he felt it.

He glanced at Hershel's legs again and moved to pick up the boy. He was still kneeling as he pulled the boy close, one arm supporting his neck with the other gently holding the boy's damaged legs. He grit his teeth as doing so pulled on the wound on his back, but he banished the pain from his mind as he focused the rest of his energy for a transport. Aura winds picked up and Phos closed his eyes. There was a flash as the pair disappeared…though there was no one around left to witness it.

Syn sat, arms wrapped around her knees with the crossbow sitting nearby. Nip was sleeping next to the small child, the sword wound cleaned, treated, and bound. Syn's hands were bandaged as well; Nip hadn't really appreciated the treatment process.

A breeze rippled the tent, and Syn's hand darted towards the crossbow. After a few minutes she released her grip, exhaling shakily. What would she do if Master Healer didn't return? She almost longed to run to the central fortress…but she had been ordered not to leave the tent.

Nip whimpered in her sleep and Syn reached out to lay a hand on the creature's head.

"It's ok, Nip…it's going to be ok…"

There was a sudden popping noise, and then a flash outside the tent. Syn grabbed the crossbow, pointing it to the tent flap with shaking hands.

"Syn, it's me…"

Her whole body sagged in relief at Master Healer's voice, the crossbow tumbling from her grasp. She ran to the flap, pulling it open. When she caught sight of what was outside she froze, her heart jumping into her throat.

Phos didn't offer any explanation, pushing his way into the tent with an unconscious Hershel in his arms.

"I need bandages, splints, and boiling water…." the Healer snapped. Syn stayed glued to the spot, staring at horror at her brother's bruised face.

"Syn. Now!"

Phos's stern command jolted her from her thoughts and she raced to get the Healer what he asked for. Nip yipped as the yelling woke her from her fretful sleep.

Phos went into the back room and laid Hershel out on his back on the mat. He gently positioned the boy's legs, and a few moments later Syn came back with materials for splints. Phos took them and ordered her to help him. She worked in silence, her small hands calm and nimble despite the fear and nausea she felt. After they finished she could hear the kettle whistling in the other room. She turned at the sound, swallowing.

"What do you want me to…"

"Use half for a pain relieving tea….and use the rest to make a soup. He'll want both when he wakes up," the Healer replied, sounding exhausted. She got up to follow his instructions, but as she glanced back she froze.

"What?" Phos snapped without turning around. Syn swallowed.

"Your…your back….you're bleeding…"

Phos turned to face her. "I'm fine. Focus on doing what I told you."

"But…"

"I've survived worse," the Healer growled. He moved to stand, but a small hand pressed on his shoulder, willing him to stay seated. Phos grumbled something but did so, allowing Syn to spend the next little while cleaning out the wound and wrapping it with a bandage. She spoke softly as she worked.

"Where was he?"

Phos didn't answer and Syn paused in her wrapping.

"Please tell me….you and Hersh…you think I can't handle things, but I need to know!"

"The Leader at the Northern Fortress had him," the Healer finally answered, and he winced as she pulled the bandage tight.

"Why?..." Syn finished binding Phos's wound and sank down to the ground as she looked over at Hershel. "Why would they take him? Why did they hurt him…"

A sob escaped and Phos sighed as he turned to face her. Despite the sob, Syn was surprisingly dry-eyed as she stared at the ground.

"They wanted access to his power…" he explained gently and Syn's eyes filled with tears as she looked up at him.

"So they'll be back?"

"No Syn, they're…"

"But they'll be others…" she cut in, her tone hopeless as tears began coursing down her face. "There will always be people who…" she shook her head, sobbing openly now. "He thinks I can't remember…that I was too young…but I know that our parents used to beat him, and the traders too…and there was never anything I could do, cuz he'd just tell me to hide…and…"

Phos reached out a hesitant hand, putting it on her shoulder.

"It will not happen again, Syn….I promise you…"

She looked up at him, wiping her nose on a sleeve as she let out a shuddery breath. She pushed herself up off the ground and left the room to make the tea and soup. Phos could hear her as she continued to cry, and Nip's whines as the injured creature tried to comfort the small child. He remained seated, feeling numb and drained. He reached up to feel the bandages wrapped around his back and chest, his jaw clenching.

"It will not happen again."

57

A sand paper tongue flicking across his face woke Hershel the next morning.

"Ah…Nip, stop it…" he muttered with his eyes still closed, automatically shoving the creature away. Nip whined, coming back to lick his face again.

"Nip!" He said more sternly, finally opening his eyes as he moved to shove more forcefully. The motion jarred his legs and he gasped, looking down at them. He caught sight of the splints and the memories from the last day washed over him, and he let out a little moan. How did he get here? Master Healer…he was…

"Hershel!"

He turned to see Syn in the doorway. Her eyes filled with tears as she ran to him, wrapping his top half in a hug.

"Syn…" Hershel said numbly, trying to embrace her back while his mind tried to process everything. "How…how'd I get here?"

"Master Healer brought you back," she mumbled, face buried in his shoulder. He looked at her in disbelief.

"Then… he's ok?"

She finally pulled back to look up at him.

"Yes…he's just gone to get the breakfast loaves…"

Hershel's confused face further contorted, but he felt a wash of relief. Syn helped him sit upright.

"I saw him get stabbed…" he remembered softly, looking at his sister as if she could provide an explanation. She just gave him a watery smile.

"He was wounded when he brought you back…but then he got up this morning and he seemed fine…" she trailed off and then shrugged. "He's tough."

Hershel let out a little laugh, and Nip began nuzzling his side. He turned and caught sight of the bandaged creature for the first time.

"What happened to Nip?"

Syn's expression darkened.

"Master Healer thinks she tried to stop the people who took you, Hersh…she has a big sword wound…"

"Really?" He scoffed a little in disbelief, and reached out to scratch the sniffer under the chin. Nip let out happy guttural purr.

"Are you hungry? I have some soup…"

Hershel gave her another confused expression.

"Soup? I thought Master Healer…."

"I made it last night, but, um…you didn't ever wake up to eat it." She stood suddenly, heading back to the front of the tent to get some. She returned a few minutes later with a bowl of cold soup.

"You'll…um…you'll have to heat it up…" she said as she handed it to him. He looked down at the metal bowl and swallowed. After a few moments his hands sparked and flamed, and Syn frowned as she noticed his hands shaking. After a few moments the aura winked out and she frowned at him.

"Hersh?"

He tried to smile but he didn't look at her.

"Um…I'm not that hungry…"

His stomach growled and she raised an eyebrow. He didn't say anything and she gently took the bowl from his hands.

"It's ok, Hersh…I'll just go get a fire started…"

She left the room and Hershel swallowed and looked back down at his hands.

"It's all your fault…" he muttered to himself, and Nip came over and pushed her head under his arm. He looked down and for once didn't shove the sniffer away, smiling slightly as he felt the rumbling purr inside.

He heard some clanking in the other room and after a while he could smell the soup as it reheated.

"What are you doing?"

Hershel's heart pounded as he heard Master Healer's voice from the other room; he must have just gotten back. He turned to the door flap, waiting. He could hear Syn talking in hushed tones and after a few moments the door flap finally parted and Phos pushed himself through. He caught sight of Hershel looking at him and scratched his chin as he came over to kneel next to the sitting boy.

"Are you in any pain?" he asked quietly, and Hershel shook his head. After a moment Hershel finally found his voice.

"Master Healer…"

Phos narrowed his eyes as Hershel's expression became distressed.

"I…I'm sorry…I'm sorry…"

"Hershel…"

"It's my fault…they knew because my mother told them…she saw me that day and she figured it out…"

"The leader told you this?" Phos asked, his voice low. Hershel looked up at his master, tears filling his eyes.

"I failed you…you told me I'd have to be careful…that this would happen…"

Hershel's eyes darted away in shame as the tears began to spill down his face. Phos studied him a moment before finally clearing his throat.

"I knew this would happen if you were caught…yes…"

Hershel winced and Phos reached out to brush Hershel's long hair out of his face.

"But that doesn't mean they had the right to do this to you."

Hershel shrugged, shrinking into himself more.

"I'm sorry that you had to come for me…especially now that I'm…" he looked down at his legs and drew a shuddery breath. "I'll be a useless slave now…I can't even stand…"

Phos studied the boy a little longer, but Hershel was refusing to look at him. Finally the ancient Oni clenched his jaw.

"If you were useless, I wouldn't have come for you. Do you really think I would have wasted any of my time on you if you weren't worth it?" he asked gruffly. Hershel turned to look at him as Phos looked away and scratched his chin.

"I saved you because you deserved to be saved, Hershel…to me, you and your sister are…." the Healer suddenly fell silent, seeming to think better of his comment and cleared his throat. He jolted in surprise as Hershel moved quickly to embrace him, burying his face into Phos's chest. The Healer let out an uncomfortable noise, arms lifted away to avoid contact with the young teen clinging to him. He opened his mouth to rebuke Hershel...but at the last moment he sighed, hesitantly lowering one hand until it was resting gently on the boy's head.

Syn watched silently from the doorway, keeping out of line of the Master Healer's sight. He had a strange expression on his face and as Nip rubbed her head on Syn's leg and she smiled softly.

"I'm not saying that seeing you in a dress looked better…it was just different."

Keyda raised an eyebrow as Cole smiled sheepishly.

"You still didn't answer my question…" she pointed out and he laughed a little.

"I think…"

A sudden knock came to the door of the office, cutting off Cole's reply. He and Keyda turned as Jaqah pushed the door open, looking concerned.

"Jaqah…what…" Keyda started and Jaqah gave a quick bow before talking quickly.

"I'm sorry to interrupt…but we just got word that Oilen is dead."

Cole and Keyda froze. Cole recovered first.

"Who's…."

"The Northern Leader," Keyda answered, face contorted in confusion. "Do we know this for sure?"

"As sure as we can be without visiting the Northern Fortress itself," Jaqah said. "Our source was pretty confident…."

"How did he die?" Keyda asked, and Jaqah took a deep breath.

"That's just it….they're saying you did it."