Healer, Killer

by Amanda Swiftgold

Completely revised and UPDATED as of 2/20/14! Chapter Fifteen: The Dragoons attack Mayfil, but they find both devils and shadows of the past standing in their way.

4. Chapter Four

HEALER, KILLER
By Amanda Swiftgold

BOOK ONE: DRAGOON SPIRITS GATHER

Chapter Four

There was nothing better, Shirley decided, than being able to wake up slowly in the morning. The light was streaming in softly through the windows of her tower, muted by the thin, pale curtains covering them. There was a fire in the room downstairs, its heat rising to warm her bedroom, and she snuggled deeper under her layers of blankets, giving a happy sigh. No, maybe there was nothing better than just being home again.

However, her peace was soon interrupted by a shriek from outside, startling her, and she sat up quickly. In town it was impossible not to hear things through the walls, but here she was in a tower hundreds of feet above the lower city, and she had not expected to hear a voice - especially not this particular one.

"Please, I just want to see her! I'm not gonna do anything bad! I told you that I-"

"Yeah, yeah. I don't know how you got up here, kid, but if you don't come along now, you'll be going back down the fast way!"

Wriggling out from under her covers, the young woman shivered as her stocking feet hit the cold stone. She grabbed a rose-colored woolen blanket to wrap around her shoulders as she ran toward the huge door, jumping down hurriedly to fling it open. "What's going on?" Shirley called, her breath billowing around her as she leaned outside.

On the landing, one of the upper city guards was determinedly marching a teal-haired girl toward the stairs; huge furrows in the newly-fallen snow showed she had been dragging her feet the whole way, refusing to cooperate. "Lady Shirley!" the man said, relieved. "No need to worry, it's just some half-breed-"

"It's fine," she interjected icily. There were even those who still called Belzac that, when they thought they wouldn't be heard, but she didn't have to condone it. "I know her. Please, leave her be."

Shrugging almost invisibly, the man gave a bow, letting go of Damia's wrist. "As you wish, my lady."

Pulling her arm back hard, she ran to Shirley, who quickly ushered her inside and closed the door against the cold. "He wouldn't have thrown me over the side, would he?" she asked doubtfully.

"No," Shirley laughed, watching as Damia looked around the room. The inside of the tower was fairly large and split into two levels, a few stairs leading upward to the dais-like portion where the bed rested. Though the stone of the walls had made the task somewhat difficult, the room had been designed to be as light and airy as possible. There were white blankets and pale window-coverings, and the runner on the floor was in a floral pattern.

The half-mermaid took a deep breath, inhaling the faint smell of flowers emanating from the dried bunches that hung on the rack on the wall. "Wow," she whispered, just loud enough to be heard. "Pretty…"

"Damia," the healer began, smiling a bit proudly at her approval, "I'm surprised. How did you manage to come all the way up here?"

She raised her eyebrows, shaking her head helplessly before bending to brush snow from the folds of her pale blue wrap. She had a new scarf on, Shirley saw, white with green trim. "I ran…I was afraid of falling off those stairs. You live up so high! The guards at the bottom let me through, but the one up here wouldn't listen."

"They let you in?" Puzzled, Shirley sat down on the long recliner couch, crossing her ankles. "Generally, they don't just let everyone through to the upper city."

"Well, I have a message for you," the girl said, patting at the mended tear in her shirt before reaching in through the collar. She pulled out a folded scrap of parchment, holding it forth, and Shirley took it slowly. "It's from Belzac. He told me to bring it to you last night, but it was snowing, and too dark to go then."

Curious, she unfolded the note, reading the short message quickly, and then her eyes widened, her expression falling. "Oh, no, he didn't!" she breathed, rereading it, but the words remained the same.

Leaning over the armrest of the couch, Damia craned her head to see. "What's wrong? What's it say?"

Oh, Belzac, that was a rash thing to do. "He went with Syuveil last night to challenge the Golden Dragon," she replied distractedly, unconsciously holding the note to her chest.

"Syu-who? A Dragon? When's he coming back?" Damia pressed, leaning even further, her feet lifting from the ground and her hair hanging to the white leather of the seat. "Oh, it's about the orbs! The magic things!" she remembered suddenly. "Belzac gets one too?"

She nodded hard, as if reassuring herself. He would be fine, and Syuveil was with him to support him, but she'd always thought she would be at his side during the fight. "He will," she answered, nodding once more. "We'll see him in just a day or so, maybe even tonight."

Grunting softly as her feet touched the floor again, Damia sighed, unwinding her scarf from around her neck and wrapping it idly around and between her hands. "So you aren't mad or anything? Because, well, I had to go to the school and you didn't even say goodbye to me."

"Oh!" Her hand flying to her cheek, Shirley twisted to face the girl, pangs of guilt rising inside. "Damia, I'm so sorry! I'm not mad at you, I just got distracted."

Smiling wryly, she scuffed her worn boot along the stone of the floor before finally looking up again, a bit of sadness in her eyes. "It's okay…I mean, you've got those stones to fight the Winglies, and there's probably even more slaves you want to free, and those kids will all need you too, and all that's a lot more important."

"Damia-" No, it isn't, she wanted to say, but her words were cut off by a loud knock on the door. Puzzled, she put down the note and stood up again, wrapping the blanket more tightly with one hand as she cracked the door open and peered around.

A soldier wearing Diaz's colors stood outside. He gave a bow. "Lady Shirley," he said stiffly, "Lord Diaz would like to see you right away."

A summons? I wasn't expecting this. I wonder what came up? I hope it's not about Belzac…but he couldn't have heard yet if something has happened, could he? Her heart twisting in worry, she managed a nod to the man. "All right, thank you." Standing back to close the door, she looked over to Damia, who shrugged, as if proving her point. "I'm sorry," Shirley began, the words sounding weak already.

Still smiling that smile, she dropped the ends of her scarf and hopped up to sit on the curved back of the reclining couch, balancing lightly, slender arms outstretched. "I don't mind, Shirley." Her next words, however, made the redhead pause in crossing the room. "It's kind of like still having a master, isn't it?"

Watching her innocent expression thoughtfully, she finally conceded, "It is, perhaps. But one I want to serve."

"That's important," the twelve-year-old announced with similar thoughtfulness.

"Will you walk with me, at least down to the entrance?" Shirley asked her after climbing the low stairs. She leaned on the railing momentarily.

Damia nodded, and Shirley bent to open a trunk set in the corner, rifling through it for some warm clothes. "Besides," the girl commented, "I'll probably get in trouble for going out, anyway, so I shouldn't stay out too long."

"Not if Belzac asked you to go," she said, pulling out a rather tight-fitting white tunic and pants and wrinkling her nose at them; the robe she preferred to wear in town was still in the laundry, along with the other clothes she'd brought on their recent journey. Tossing them on the bed anyway, she found a long, loose saffron jacket to go over them and began getting dressed. "How do you like the school so far?"

Rolling lightly down onto the couch seat, Damia went on, "I guess it's okay. We had gravy with biscuits for breakfast, as much as we wanted!" Her tone changed suddenly, growing darker. "The kids are mean, though. Called me names. I don't think they like me much."

"Just give it a little time. They'll like you when they get to know you," Shirley assured, tugging on her usual pair of fur-lined gloves. Winter in Vellweb lasted for nearly half the year, and its inhabitants quickly got used to dressing warmly. "Well, let's go."

Damia joined her, and they left the room. Shirley raised a hand to shield her eyes from the glare of the morning sun on snow and peered around the ring of unfinished towers. There were two figures also coming out of the second tower to her right, Zieg's, and she waved to them, although she wasn't sure they could see her.

Moving quickly but carefully down the icy flights of stairs, the healer reached the first landing and suddenly let out a gasp as a hand closed around her upper arm, pulling her back. Twisting to see, she found Kanzas standing in the shadows of the arched doorway of her tower's lower floor. Surprised, she blurted, "What are you doing here?"

"What a nice welcome." He let her go, a scowl on his face. "He summoned me, Shirley!" the man hissed, immediately changing the subject. "What makes him think he can do that? I told you, I'm not going to be his soldier!"

She sighed, throwing up her hands. It's still too early in the day for this. "You're a candidate, remember? Lord Diaz just wants to talk to you, and he's summoned me and the others too, so shall we just go see what he wants?"

"I never agreed to be at his beck and call."

"Then how are you ever going to find out about anything?" Shirley rejoined, raising her finger to point.

The russet-haired man tossed his head back stubbornly. "What do I need Diaz to tell me anything for?"

Taking a breath to retort, she heard the soft sound of Damia clearing her throat, and then a sudden new voice. "Hello, there, Shirley! And Kanzas, was it? I hope we aren't interrupting?"

Shirley turned to see Zieg and Rose approaching, side-by-side, and let go of her irritation to smile in greeting at them. "Hello," she answered cheerfully. "No, you aren't interrupting. It's just an old argument being rehashed." She flashed an arch look at Kanzas, who didn't seem to see it; he had gone quiet, watching the newcomers closely. "Oh, and this is Damia," she introduced as well.

The blonde man looked at her and then blinked a little, startled. The girl, turning pink, raised her hands as if to hide her large ragged ears, which still poked out from her waves of hair no matter how she tried to cover them. After a moment, however, she dropped them, managing a nod in return.

"Hey there," he finally said in a casual tone, hiding any further surprise he might have felt. "How do you like Vellweb?"

As the others conversed, Kanzas kept his eyes on Zieg. Although he was still angry about being summoned, there was something about the Fire Dragoon, a kind of oblivious charisma, that made him feel childish for continuing to complain. When they'd met last night, Shirley had told him that Zieg had never been a slave, and there was something of this freedom in his attitude. Without consciously being aware of it, Kanzas knew that looking bad next to Zieg was worse than looking bad next to someone else. Not for the first time, he wondered if the younger man had the fighting skills to back up his confidence, and decided he would find out when he could if it was true.

"By the way, where's Belzac and Syuveil?" Zieg asked curiously, looking around the tower circle for any sign of them. "They'd probably have been called for, too."

"They went to the Death Frontier last night," Shirley answered reluctantly. "Damia brought me the message just now."

Rose turned her thoughtful blue gaze toward Kanzas momentarily, receiving a dour look in return. "Really?" she murmured for him alone to hear. "I'm surprised."

"Oh, are you?" he snapped back, annoyed. She merely gave him a smirk, and he clenched his fists, doing his best to hold back his anger. He didn't like it at all, but he could see that having an argument with Rose with Zieg around wouldn't get him anywhere.

"Hey," Damia asked suddenly, her voice just a whisper, "who's that?"

Zieg looked confused. "Who's who?"

"My, this is a surprise," a low woman's voice said to answer his question, as slow and sickly-sweet as trickling syrup. "Enjoying the view, are we, my dears?" A Wingly woman alighted gently on the circular path in front of them, her thick fur-lined cloak and long white hair falling softly down again as her wings disappeared from sight. She wore a haughty expression and placed her hands on her hips.

"Fara," Shirley forced out civilly, drawing the edges of her jacket tighter around her. "Yes, it's a nice morning."

"If you enjoy this miserable ice and snow, perhaps," Fara sniffed. "No wonder you Humans have kept hold of this land so long."

Odd, Kanzas thought, noticing the way the faces of the Dragoons and Rose seemed to harden, tensing in resentment. I thought there were some Winglies backing them. Why else would one be here?

"What do you want, Fara?" Zieg spat, taking a step forward.

Dismissing him with a wave, the woman's eyes widened as she noticed Damia. "Oh, now this is interesting. You seem to have found a girl with Wingly blood…"

Shaking a little, Damia automatically began the bow of veneration to the Wingly, but Zieg reached out, hooking two fingers into her collar and pulling her back up again. "You may not bow to her, Damia," he said sternly.

Nodding, she swallowed hard, her ruby eyes thinning to slits. "I am not part Wingly!" she suddenly hissed at Fara. "And you don't belong here!"

"Good," the red-clothed man said clearly. "You learn fast."

"Shirley, Zieg, and Rose," Fara drawled, giving Damia a dark look. "You seem to have acquired some new rabble, haven't you? I thought these quaint little towers were forbidden to the common herd."

Kanzas felt Shirley's hand seize his wrist one moment later, her fingers digging hard into the skin. If he hadn't been so aggravated already, he might have laughed at her reaction. "Look," he snarled to Shirley a low tone meant to be overheard, "I don't like Winglies. If there isn't a good reason why she's here, I'm going to get rid of her."

"Why I'm here?" Fara said disbelievingly, laying a hand on her chest. She tossed her long tail of hair, looking smug. "Ignorant Human, I'm the ambassador to this disgusting pile of stone. Attack me, and I will have all the reason in the world to have this place erased from the map."

"She's right," he heard Shirley whisper near his ear. "Please!"

Kanzas laughed shortly, relenting, though his clenched fists did not relax. "Ambassador? What's that, another word for 'spy'?"

"In this case," Rose said in icy tones, "you are correct."

The Wingly spread her arms wide, her fine clothes shimmering in the morning sunlight. "Silly children," she sighed. "Enjoy your 'freedom' while we let you have it."

"Are you threatening us?" Shirley contested seriously.

"If you do not understand, I cannot be responsible for your ignorance." Fara laughed, her wings sparking into life again behind her. "Be careful now, Humans. Don't slip; it's such a long way to fall." She rose higher into the air, hair whipping around behind her as she flew toward the east.

Shirley sighed, finally letting go of Kanzas' wrist. He said nothing, watching Fara go with murder in his eyes. Thank you for not attacking her right then, she thought at him, relieved. I really wasn't sure you would stop.

"Well, that was pleasant," Rose said dryly.

Zieg frowned thoughtfully, brushing back stray bits of hair. "She's not even pretending to tolerate us now, is she? Something's going on."

The swordswoman shrugged at him. "I don't doubt it. She got angry, I think, when Damia snapped at her; she's usually better at hiding how much she hates us."

Following the trail of energy with his gaze, Kanzas shaded his eyes. "Hey," he said suddenly, intruding on the conversation, "what're those big ribcage things on the wall supposed to be, anyway?"

"They'll end up being observation points for, you know, the stars. To track their positions in the celestial houses. Astrology," Shirley replied in an unnaturally bright voice. She shook her head at him hard at the same time, reaching to pull at his sleeve and tug him along. "We should go see Lord Diaz now, right? Damia, do you know your way back?"

A bit disturbed by the encounter with the Wingly, she nodded somberly before raising her hand in a wave. "Don't forget about me," the teal-haired girl said quietly, her lips quirking into a smile.

"I'll come visit soon," Shirley promised, still trying to make Kanzas move, but without much luck.

"Shirley," he began sternly, and she knew he was about to demand she tell him what the construction really was.

"Come on," she murmured, cutting him off and watching Damia take a deep breath before walking quickly toward the stairs, her gaze moving everywhere but down.

Finally relenting as Rose and Zieg began walking down as well, he shook his arm out of her grip and joined them as they were let through the entrance and onto the path leading to the building below the towers. "You were lying," Kanzas told Shirley once the guards had pulled the doors closed again. "Why? What aren't you telling me again?"

"I just couldn't say it outside, that's all," she defended, following the other two across the long, windy bridge. "But it's safe here."

"What's so special about right here, then?" he asked, still irritated. "Just stop with the riddles, would you?"

"Charle Frahma's put a strong spell around this building, and the towers too," Rose explained once they were inside, heading down toward the audience chamber. "You did hear that she backs us, I hope? Anyhow, it prevents other Winglies from using their magic to listen in, so we must keep our secrets here. Shirley was just being prudent, and as a candidate you should remember to do the same."

"Secrets? So what you're building up there in plain sight is actually supposed to be a secret?" Kanzas asked her, waving in the general direction of the wall but not pursuing the critical comment aloud. Yeah, you think you're so great, do you? "What are they, then? It sure as hell isn't some 'observation point'."

Shirley shook her head at him. "No. It's actually going to be a weapon when they're finished, a battery of spear-shooters to knock Flanvel Tower from the sky."

"They were begun many years ago, but we can't finish them, much less fire them, until we have the seven Dragoons to back them up," Zieg interjected. "If the Winglies realize what they actually are before then, they'd need no other excuse to destroy Vellweb."

The russet-haired man gave them a long look, stopping in the middle of the hall for a moment. "You people are crazy!" he hissed suddenly, smacking his palm against his forehead.

"It's true," Rose responded calmly. "Flanvel must fall before the other cities can be attacked, and this is how it will be done."

"Yeah, I'll believe that if I see it," Kanzas muttered as Zieg flung open the doors to the chamber, letting them pass before him.

The blonde warrior gave the older man a confident grin before closing the doors behind him and taking his place next to Shirley at the front of the room. Annoyed by the ceremony, Kanzas remained where he was near the exit. "My lord Diaz," Zieg announced to the figure on the throne, sweeping back his burgundy cloak as he gave a bow. "You have sent for us?"

The man nodded; unusually, he looked a lot less formal today, dressed in tunic and pants, only an ornate cloak and a plain circlet betraying his status. "Dragoons, candidates," he greeted, "I will be brief. For the past several years I have been meeting with warlords, clan chiefs, and other leaders of the free Humans left in Endiness. Finally, we have all come to an agreement. The Winglies are attacking our borders, daring us to retaliate, and if we do not make ready for the war that will come, it will consume us. Thus, I must send you to claim the remaining Dragoon Spirits. I hope you are ready to take on this dangerous task."

Rose hesitated only a moment before bowing. "I am, Lord Diaz."

Feeling Diaz's eyes on him, Kanzas shrugged, staring back at him. "Sure," he answered softly before smirking. "It's just a Dragon."

"Good," the bearded lord replied, half-smiling. "Shirley, Zieg, you two have done this before. You know what to do, and I am sure you will return safely."

"Lord Diaz," Shirley spoke up respectfully, "what about the Blue Sea spirit? Should Shynn come with one of us?"

Frowning thoughtfully, Zieg interjected, "Well, won't Syuveil and Belzac be coming back here soon? He can go with them and save time."

"Very well," Diaz said formally, inclining his head. "I wish you luck. All of Endiness is waiting for your return."

Endiness? Kanzas thought. What do I owe Endiness? Why does he think he can just order- Sighing to himself, he cut off that line of thinking. For now, he'd just go along with this - as long as it brought him closer to getting the stone Shirley had said was his, anyway. Once he had that power in his hand, Diaz and his orders and his lightning rod of a city could go rot.

With bows from three of them, the small group filed out of the audience chamber before pausing in the hall outside and looking at each other. "This is it," Rose said quietly, starting to walk again, the heels of her boots clicking on the stone. "The beginning of everything."

"It's all happening so fast now," Shirley agreed, following her. "I can't wait until we're all together at last." She smiled before her eyes narrowed rather uncharacteristically. "I think throwing Fara out will be the first thing, don't you?"

"I agree, Shirley. The throwing part especially, though it's too bad she can fly." Zieg laughed loudly, putting his hand on Rose's shoulder, aware of his lover's uneasiness. Challenging a Dragon was no easy task, after all, and some of the candidates who had died in the process had been good friends. None of them wanted yet another to share that fate. "Well, we're going to get ready to leave; that right, Rose?"

Rose nodded, reaching up to place her hand over his. "Yes, Zieg, I'm ready to go."

"See you soon!" he called to the other two, turning to wave as they went through the door.

"Take care!" Shirley answered back, returning the wave before looking over at Kanzas. "We should start off too, I suppose. You don't mind beginning another journey so soon, do you?" I do, but there's nothing I can do about that. With all of yesterday's busyness, she hadn't even had a chance to see her brothers again, even after having been away from Vellweb for over a month's time. They too were in service to Diaz, however, and would forgive her for it, understanding her responsibility came first.

"Of course not," he said, sounding almost impatient. "It's not like I can just sit still here, anyway."

She nodded. "You'll need equipment and supplies, enough for a couple of days at least."

"With what money?" he demanded.

"Oh, money's for dealing with Winglies; we mostly barter here. I'll send someone with a token you can use for what you need, and Lord Diaz will see to it they get their value in return."

Kanzas scowled at that, not liking the idea of becoming even more indebted to the Human ruler. It would be one more thing he would have to handle before he could get himself truly free of this place, but it wasn't as if he had anything of his own to barter with, either. Apart from the cloak and gloves he'd 'acquired' in Magrad, everything he had had been bought for him with Diaz's coin.

Unaware of his dark thoughts, Shirley continued, "The road out the northwest gate will take you to the docks, but if you go just south from there, you'll find an empty stretch of beach. I'll meet you there around noon."

"Why there?" he asked quizzically. It sounded like one hell of an odd place to begin a trip south, unless they were going by sea, though even then something struck him as wrong about it. Maybe they were going to meet the Wingly merchant she'd mentioned before. His lip curled at the thought of having to endure being around one of them again.

Chuckling, she gave him a secretive, teasing look, bringing her finger to her lips. He crossed his arms, snorting at the mocking gesture. "Don't fret. You'll see."

---

The sun was high in the sky, though the light and warmth they'd felt that morning was now hidden behind a growing mass of thick gray clouds. Shirley made her way down the rocky beach, humming happily and listening to the lapping sound of the water and the cries of the seabirds. Years ago, she would have seen hundreds of seals as she walked, though Vellweb's growth and subsequent hunting of them for their hides, meat and blubber had since forced what was left of them to seek other shores. Her breath misted around her face, and there were thin layers of ice covering the freezing waterline. Although she once again wore her pack on her back, she also held a coil of rope in her gloved hands, an armored vest embroidered in silver visible under her jacket.

Kanzas was already waiting for her, his black cloak the one pool of shadow to be seen beneath such an overcast sky. He gave the woman an odd look as she approached, flicking at the ponytail of hair pulled tightly behind her head. "What's this supposed to be, a whisk?"

She reached up to cover her head protectively, scowling. "I just didn't want it in my face, thank you. Got everything?"

Kanzas was wearing his own armored vest fastened over his bloodstained woolen shirt and a new set of banded armguards around his forearms. He shrugged sourly, tugging at a strap of his pack. "Yeah, it's heavy enough. Are we taking that Wingly cargo ship or something? If we are, it's late."

"No," she answered, smirking knowingly. "We're going much faster than even that. In fact, we'll be in the Southlands, where the Dragon nests, in just a few hours."

"Then why, Shirley," Kanzas griped, crossing his arms, "are we on the damned freezing beach?"

She closed her eyes a moment, her smile growing into a grin as a gale of wind suddenly rushed around them, a sound like the snap of hard leather ringing out above their heads. "So no one will see the Dragon, of course," she answered cheekily, opening them as Eremi touched down onto the rocks behind her. Her small head leaned down over her Dragoon's shoulder as she inspected Kanzas critically, the long pointed muzzle descending close to his neck.

The look of astonishment on his face made her laugh; he'd tensed up, standing very still as the white-silver Dragon stared into his eyes with her own tiny cluster of orbs. "You've got a Dragon," he forced out.

She reached up, rubbing the pearly scales of Eremi's jaw with her fingertips. The Dragon lifted her head, still regarding Kanzas with a flat, multi-eyed stare. "Of course; the vassal Dragons are here to assist us against the Winglies. Dragonkind has its own grudges, too. This is the Silver Streak Dragon, Eremi. She'll carry us to the nest of the Violet Dragon."

"I suppose," the man said unenthusiastically, "you think this is very funny."

"Turnabout's fair play," she advised him, holding up the rope she carried. "Here, help me get this tied onto her."

He took one end reluctantly, watching with suspicion as the huge creature stood high on oddly rounded legs, wings pulled back as Shirley ducked beneath her scaled belly. The rope unfolded to become a kind of harness, stretching around the front of Eremi's chest and crossing over her back to tie underneath. "What's this for?" Kanzas asked as she tied the knot, the rope hanging a bit loose there.

"So we don't fall off," she answered offhandedly, focusing on the Dragon. /Not too tight?/ she asked Eremi, receiving a sense of approval in her mind. "She's ready, so let's go. It's too cold for her here."

"What, so you can talk to it or something?" he asked, watching as the Dragon settled down low to the ground, allowing Shirley to climb up on her back.

The woman slid her legs beneath the crossed rope to secure herself before leaning down, holding out her hand. "Yes. The vassal Dragons can't speak, but they understand what is said to them, and reply with a sort of…I don't know, emotion the Dragoon can feel. I'm sure you'll see for yourself…come on up, Kanzas." Hesitating a moment, she went on, "Sit up front, here."

Determined not to look any more apprehensive, he ignored her hand and clambered a bit awkwardly onto the Dragon's back, the scales slick beneath his fingers. Sliding in under the ropes, he let out a sigh of success before turning back to glance at her over his shoulder. "Don't want me behind you, is it?"

Shirley gave him a wry look, unwilling to admit that he had gotten it exactly. They were going to be alone together for a couple of days, making her nervous indeed. "Yes, I want you where I can see you."

A quick thought to Eremi cut off his reply as the Dragon rose into a crouch, wings flaring, and with a great spray of gravel rose into the air. Knocked backward a bit, Shirley clutched onto Kanzas' waist, the man holding onto the halter rope ahead of him as they went higher, the shore and water falling away beneath.

He let out a whoop of laughter, tilting his head up to face the wind blowing hard against them. "This is incredible!" he shouted into the gale, letting go and flinging his arms out. "I'm actually flying! This is amazing!"

"Don't do that! Hold on, would you?" Shirley gasped, burying her face in the folds of his cloak. It felt as though her stomach had been left below; she had never been horribly fond of flying, though she had gotten used to it by now.

Laughing again, Kanzas returned his hands to the rope, looking down as they headed eastward over Gloriano, Vellweb passing somewhere on the horizon. "Why aren't we just crossing the Death Frontier?" he yelled, the sound of the wind around them taking his voice away.

Blinking, she raised her head slightly. "What?" she called back.

"The Death Frontier!" he bellowed. "Why not?"

"So we don't alert Mayfil to Belzac and Syuveil!" Kanzas nodded curtly, and she thought, I hope Belzac's all right…but he has to be. He's doing just fine. I bet they've finished the challenge by now! Biting her lip, she ducked her head again, glad Kanzas wasn't bothered by the ground whipping by so far below. She, on the other hand, was happier to not have to look at it.

It was almost as if time didn't exist as they flew, though the sun moved across the sky as ever, growing brighter and unobstructed by clouds as they went further south. The ground fell away, leaving only ocean as Eremi completed her arc around Mayfil and the Death Frontier. She was flying in a semicircle to reach the warmer Southlands, where the Grand Thunder Dragon's nest was located on a mountain overlooking a tree-filled valley.

A large forest appeared on the horizon, and soon they were above it. Although Kanzas, like she, had been still most of the way, he suddenly straightened up, blinking. "Stop," he said urgently, shifting alarmingly in front of her as he leaned to point at something down below. "We need to stop. By that bend in the river!"

Shirley twisted his sash in her hand as if he might suddenly try to jump off. Frowning quizzically, she glanced down at the wide river winding its way through the bright-green mass of trees that edged its banks. "Why?" she called back. "What's down there?"

"Home!" Kanzas answered loudly, sounding oddly cheerful.

She jerked in surprise, looking back down again. He'd gone with them to Vellweb so readily that she hadn't imagined he even had a home to return to. "Okay," she replied slowly, closing her eyes and shifting her hand to the back of the creature beneath them. /We'd like to land, Eremi,/ she thought at her vassal Dragon, picturing the river bend Kanzas had shown her, and as usual requesting more than ordering the Dragon to do her bidding. /You can take a rest here, too./

There was a warm flash of agreement in her mind, and Eremi banked sharply, wind battering the two as she turned back toward the forest they'd just flown over. Shirley closed her eyes, holding on tight with her heart in her throat. This was just not something she was ever going to get used to - though her companion, as usual, seemed to have little worry for his own safety, or hers at that.

Branches swayed and cracked around them as the large silvery Dragon plunged into the protection of the forest, wings flaring a spray of magical light at the last moment to provide enough lift for a softer landing. Several trees splintered and toppled, a fall of leaves drifting down around them.

Eremi raised her head in unmistakable silent laughter as she settled, catlike, onto the ground she'd just cleared. Shirley immediately slid down, stumbling briefly before leaning on a split trunk to catch her breath. I hate when she lands like that! She shook her head, hoping her stomach would calm down quickly.

"Damn, I feel sore." Kanzas jumped down a moment later, hooking his hands together behind his back and stretching as he looked around, searching for something recognizable. "This way," he finally announced, gesturing toward the woman before walking eastward.

Scrambling to keep up, and glad she could finally stretch her legs, Shirley gave him a dubious look, brushing back bright red strands of hair the wind had pulled from her ponytail. "Your home is around here? How do you know? There's nothing but trees for miles."

"Yeah, makes good cover." He lurched up onto a boulder, peering through the thick growth before jumping back down again. "And I just know. We crossed the ocean, this is the Southlands, this is it. Lived here long enough, I know how the river flows, though I never saw it from above before. Home's not far from here, so the Dragon got it right."

"Why would you need cover?" Shirley asked, wondering a bit about the unexpected detour. They weren't that far from the nest of the Violet Dragon, though, so she supposed it didn't matter if they stopped for a while. She'd certainly packed enough, preparing for the possibility that this would take longer than expected. "Oh," she realized, "because you'd escaped your master?"

Nodding, Kanzas looked back at her, something glinting in his eyes she'd never seen before, but it was quickly lost as amusement returned. "We're outlaws," he told her, grinning. "We take things back from the Winglies."

Shirley blinked, surprised once more and feeling a sliver of fear pierce her chest. She knew it was silly, but then again… " 'We'? There are others here?"

"Don't worry," the man replied loftily, "I'll protect you."

"Ha," she retorted automatically, scowling. "I don't think so, Kanzas. I'm not afraid of…" Her words trailed off as he pushed aside a large, low-hanging branch, revealing the curve of the riverbank ahead of them. Debris was scattered all across the sandy ground, the remains of several lean-tos, now only heaps of cracked wood. Bits of destroyed pottery, shredded cloth and mangled metal were strewn everywhere. "Oh," was all she could manage to say.

She looked to Kanzas immediately to see what his reaction to this was, but he appeared only mildly concerned as he walked right into the mess. "Hello!" he called brightly, not paying any attention to Shirley. "I'm back! I hope you kept hold of that jewelry, Col, I really do!"

Following him a bit defensively, Shirley looked around for any sign of hidden bandits, but there was nothing but the soft swaying of reeds by the river and the sound of lazily-moving water. "Kanzas…"

Still wearing that same unusual grin, he cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled again, "Hey, you bastards, I'm back!"

"Kanzas," Shirley said sharply, reaching his side and tugging on his elbow to make him drop his arm. He jerked away from her as if suddenly realizing she did, in fact, exist. "Kanzas, there's no one here."

"Just ghosts," he answered, finally turning to glance at her, the smile gone without a trace. "Lots. I'll protect you." With that he turned and strode off again toward a pile of rubble, purposefully this time, and she stared after him, gaping.

What is he up to now? This is not funny at all. "Stop trying to scare me," she protested, but he made no response, bending to fling aside a plank from a particular heap smashed up against the side of a ridge. Walking closer, Shirley was forced to dance out of the way as Kanzas suddenly stood back, judged his position and then kicked high, sending the standing remains of a hearth crumbling to the ground. "What in the world are you doing?" she tried again, growing increasingly irritated.

He didn't reply, tossing rocks out of his path, and her anger faded into interest as she watched a small stairwell being revealed, low stone steps leading down into blackness. As soon as he had made a gap large enough to fit through, Kanzas quickly went down the stairs. Shirley followed after hesitantly.

It was dark, with only one single beam of daylight shining down from the hole in the ceiling where the hearth had been, but she could hear the noise of flint striking metal. A moment later, a torch flared in the man's hand. Unlike what had been above, the room the light revealed was untouched, though filled with random junk that seemed to line the walls, leaving only the center of the dugout clear. A firepit, covered by a grate, had been dug into the hard-packed ground. "Good," he said aloud, "they didn't find it."

Curious, she murmured, "What is all this?"

"This is my place," he answered vaguely, sliding his bag off his back and dropping it to the ground.

Crossing to a pile of ragged furs and blankets, Kanzas began poking around, soon frantically flipping them over in search of something. Watching him warily, the red-haired woman was startled to see the object of his search when he finally found it - a tiny bunch of cloth not even the size of his hand.

In the crackling flame-light from the torch, she recognized it as a simple child's toy, just a square of fabric tied around a bit of stuffing. "A doll?" she whispered, confused at the expression of tenderness that crossed his face. Did he have a daughter once? Shirley wondered with a pang of sadness at the thought. Though she hadn't asked his age, he was certainly old enough for that.

Just as she opened her mouth to ask him, however, he gave her a sharp look and tucked the small bundle into the fold of his sash. Moving to the center of the room, he crouched down to check the wood in the fire pit before tossing in some stray bits of cloth for kindling and throwing the torch down to light it. "I'm staying here now," he said shortly, whipping off his cloak and spreading it over the furs before turning to poke through another pile.

"But," she protested as the fire grew, casting a warm, cozy glow across the dirt walls, "the sun hasn't even set!" He grunted disinterestedly, and she heaved a sigh. "Fine…we're close enough now that another day won't matter. It's tiring sitting in one place like that, anyhow." Crossing toward the stairs, Shirley glanced up and asked, "What happened up there, do you know? Was it always like that?"

Still sifting through the piles of junk that lay about, he replied, "Winglies, I guess. They must have found out where it was. Doesn't matter; they killed everyone at that farm anyway. They don't need their houses now."

"Everyone?" Taking her pack from her back and setting it down near the entrance, she crossed her arms beneath her chest. "The other…outlaws?"

He nodded, eyes brightening momentarily as he found a small burlap sack, something inside it clinking lightly as he picked it up and continued looking around. "I'm the boss," Kanzas said proudly. "They killed the others, but not me. Sold me instead…ah, there!" He jumped to his feet, a large, flat book in his other hand. "Now, leave me alone."

Blinking, Shirley stumbled to retort as he brushed by her, finally tossing her head in exasperation. "Fine, I'll just…" Her gaze landing on a small iron kettle near the fire, she grabbed it up and held it with both arms, pushing past him this time. "I'll just get some water for tea, then," she informed him in a neutral tone. "I'll leave you be."

The book and the small bag in hand, he sat down on the steps near the light of the cellar's entrance as if he hadn't heard, hunching forward over its tattered pages. Presently, she could hear the scratching of a quill against the paper, but it stopped soon after.

Shrugging, she carted the kettle around the debris and toward the river nearby, filling it with water and dragging it laboriously back to the dugout room. There were splashes of it soaking her jacket front by the time she was done, and she took the patterned garment off, laying it near her pack before moving toward the fire; between the effort and the heat of the waning day, it was too hot to wear anyway. Kanzas had moved away from the stairs now, lying on his pile of furs with his hands behind his head.

Finding a smaller pot near the fire, she filled it with water and set it on the cooking grate above the flame to boil. The smoke rose upward through the hole in the ceiling above, and Shirley watched both it and the water silently until the bubbles started. Finally, she looked up again. "Do you want any?" she asked out of politeness.

"Sure," he mumbled uncaringly. "If you aren't going to poison me."

"I guess you'll just have to find out," she rejoined with a half-smile. Receiving no response, Shirley soon returned her attention to the boiling water and poked through her sack until she found the envelope of herbs tucked inside. Tipping a portion into the small pot and removing it from the fire, she let the tea steep for a while. Locating a couple of cracked, unglazed clay goblets among the mess, she washed them out with the rest of the clean water.

"Why'd you bring tea, anyway?" He lifted his head just slightly. "Planning to drug the Dragon or something?"

She tried to hide the odd embarrassment she felt as she replied, "I just thought it'd be nice for after the challenge. You never know what'll happen on a journey, anyway, so I tried to prepare."

"You going to cook dinner here, too?" Kanzas asked, a bit mockingly. "Got any other domestic talents I should know about?"

Shirley felt her face flare red, but she bit back a retort, keeping her eyes averted until her shock at the innuendo had passed. Rather than call any further attention to it, she kept her focus on her task, pretending she hadn't understood what he'd meant by that. After a moment, he chuckled softly, but much to her relief said nothing further.

Straining the tea with the cloth she'd brought for that purpose and pouring it carefully, she brought the first cup over to him, watching as he sat up to take it, unmindful of the heat seeping through the goblet. The past was never easy, especially for former slaves; she had to remember that, and to be patient now while he was visiting his. "So, er, how long have you lived here, anyway, Kanzas?"

He counted on his fingers, thinking back. "Six, maybe seven years."

Shirley unhooked her bedroll from her pack and laid it out by the fire before settling down onto it with her own tea. "That's a long time to be an outlaw."

"I'm a good outlaw," he answered, smiling thinly before taking a sip of the tea and making a face. He kept drinking it, however, despite the leafy taste and the way it burned his tongue. "They were starving, though, by the end. The animals around here aren't good to eat, mostly, except for rocs. So we had to go after the Winglies more and more. We got too good."

"They were starving, but not you?" she asked quietly.

Kanzas shrugged. "I take care of myself. And them. They're nothing without me. But it's myself first. Since forever."

Shirley wished that he would stop referring to the other bandits as if they were still around somewhere; it was making her feel rather nervous, as if someone might turn up suddenly. Then again, she half-wished right now that someone would. "You said before," she began slowly, "that you were once in Aglis."

"And you said before that you shouldn't pry!" he shot back, standing up quick enough to make her jerk backward. He shook his head, however, sighing. "No, we've got past that now, haven't we? You'd ask…your friend."

You did say he was your friend, didn't you? she berated herself. So stop acting so jumpy! "If you don't want to talk about it," Shirley said soothingly, "I certainly won't ask again. It's sort of the same for me. I was a shrine slave for less than a year in the Life Capital, but that was quite long enough."

"Yeah, well, isn't that supposed to be the nicest city for Humans to have to live in?" he asked, waving a hand.

"For Humans," she agreed, rubbing at her knuckles as she remembered the sparkling Birth City, "but I don't know if it is for Winglies. I…felt sorry for them, sometimes."

Shattering ceramics made her nearly bite her tongue, her head flying up as he threw the goblet hard to the ground. "You should never," Kanzas snarled at her, stalking closer, "feel sorry for Winglies!" She stared up half-fearfully as he pointed down at her, and he quickly turned away from that look on her face, stomping up the stone steps.

Twisting to her knees, Shirley scrambled to get up, calling out, "Kanzas, wait!" He didn't, however, and once more she let him go, feeling almost used to his sudden moods by now.

As she looked down at the steps, her eyes fell on the book he'd been writing in, which he'd left on the lowest stair. Bending to pick it up, she returned to her bedroll, settling down closer to the fire.

She opened the cover of the book, holding it up to her face so she could read in the dim light. It appeared to have originally been a plantation ledger, but paper was expensive and most people tended to reuse it, writing between the lines of old books and letters. Kanzas was no exception, although she saw as she flipped through it that he had only used the first two pages, which were mostly blank to begin with.

Breathing in the faint musty smell, Shirley looked over the facing pages. On the right, beneath the neatly-scribed Human letters spelling out "Ledger", were several long rows of marks. The few at the bottom were obviously newer than the others. A large, wavy-lined drawing of the Divine Tree covered the left sheet, the black ink faded to a brown matching that of the first tallies. Words in a different handwriting surrounded the sloppy sketch, large and careful like that of a child who was just learning to copy his letters:

divin tree sav hold and, pretekt yor soel untill I claem it
yo'r myne for ever

The healer furrowed her brows, and her lips moved soundlessly as she tried to figure out what the badly-spelled writing might say. She could feel a shiver running down her back as it became clear, the childlike handwriting only making the statement creepier.

Her silent speaking stopped abruptly, and one second later the book was whisked from her hands, fast enough that they still remained raised in front of her face. "That's mine," Kanzas snapped, tucking the account book under his arm.

"Sorry," Shirley muttered, looking down sheepishly. The rubble outside crunched underfoot as he stalked out again, and she sighed, turning to straighten her blanket and lie down for lack of anything better to do.

Since they'd arrived at this place, she had been seeing more signs of the darkness he had hinted at that night when they'd first met. Because she had not seen much proof that what he'd said about killing people was any more than a sarcastic taunt, she'd slowly begun to believe that it was just that. Now - after seeing that pageful of tallies - she was not so certain.

You're just getting worked up over nothing, she told herself, turning to her side and trying to get more comfortable. They were probably there before he got it. It's just because you're alone with him and thinking too much.

Despite her self-assurances, however, that night Shirley slept in Kanzas' home with her hand on the hilt of her dagger.

---

It was morning, and Kanzas was confused. Returning here with Shirley along had brought up the memories he had been living with ever since he'd escaped Aglis, no less painful even with the passage of time.

He sat cross-legged on the bank of the river, the early sunlight falling on his shoulders and the bent back of his neck, warming him with its faint rays. In his cupped hands he held the small doll he'd recovered from his room the day before, amber eyes studying its worn fabric figure with intense concentration.

He hadn't wanted to do it. But slaves had no choice. And later - later he'd found that he wanted to. That he enjoyed it.

So, what would she think of him now?

'I won't do this!'

In this moment of confusion, Kanzas wasn't sure if he was referring to Shirley or to the young woman who had given her name to the doll he held.

'Again, Human! Damn it, you do it again!'

Shirley was his sister; she had been the ninth of ten children, and he the eldest, when their family was split apart and sold off to pay their dead owner's debts. He hadn't seen her since she was three, and had never expected to see her again. Seventeen years separated them in age, and he wouldn't have even recognized her, except that he could clearly remember his mother's face, and his mother's face shone out from under Shirley's sweep of red hair.

Wasn't it wrong, what he was doing to her now?

'I love you, Kanzas, it's okay-'

And then again…

'I won't!'

The man looked down again at the small bit of cloth in his hands, crushing it tightly in his grip. His lips formed three silent syllables, speaking the name to himself once more.

'It's okay. I love you. It's okay.'

And then again…maybe he had left right and wrong behind him a long time ago.

"Ah, Kanzas?" Shirley's voice began softly from behind him, making him straighten suddenly. "I was wondering…"

He twisted a bit from where he was sitting, looking over his shoulder at her. Blushing a little, she stood there wearing a pale patterned skirt and a light, short-sleeved blouse that lifted over her navel as she shrugged shyly. A single leather bracer and her three-fingered archer's glove protected her left arm and right hand from her bowstring, but otherwise she looked like a simple villager. "What's this?" he asked, startled.

"They're my summer clothes. I thought I'd fit in better wearing Southlands things," she explained, her hair loose now and falling over her shoulders as she looked down. "If someone spotted us, they wouldn't know we were from the north. Besides, it's too hot here for wool, and I hardly get to wear them in Gloriano, so I brought them along. Do you think it's okay?"

He got to his feet, riverbank soft underneath his shoes, and walked forward to circle her slowly, making the blush on her face deepen. He couldn't argue with her reasoning, having already packed up his cloak and stained shirt due to the heat, but he was certainly not going to pass up an opportunity to get on her nerves just because of that. "The armor vest too, of course?" he asked curtly, feigning indifference, and she nodded sharply.

"It's with my pack," Shirley mumbled, forcing herself to meet his gaze. Hadn't she known somehow that this was what would happen if she'd asked his opinion? Why else had she come down here, wanting him to look at her? The thought was raising all kinds of realizations in her mind.

Kanzas had noticed how much less confident she was without Belzac around; Shirley probably didn't even realize how much she depended on the half-Giganto, or the others, to support her against the rest of the world. I'll see about that, then. I don't feel like sharing her with anyone. "It's good," he told her finally, stopping in front of her.

Her eyes had fallen on the doll in his hand, and she didn't seem to have heard him, clearly wondering why he was carrying such a thing around. "That, it means a lot to you," she deduced quietly.

His throat seized up against the words before he could say them, but he swallowed hard, annoyed by his own hesitation. "Her name was Jidena."

Moving hesitantly, she stood near his elbow, looking down at the cloth doll. With one finger, she reached to touch the rough, stained fabric of its head. "She was…?"

"Jidena," Kanzas began, looking ahead emotionlessly, "was the girl I was going to marry. That's who she was. But I killed her, and this is what's left."

Shirley's hand flew away as if she'd burned it, and she clutched it to her chest with the other one, drawing back in shock. "Why?" she whispered, hoping she hadn't understood what he'd just said.

He shook his head, his expression stony. "I didn't - mean to. It was a long time ago. I just want you to know it now. So you don't find out later, when things are different. Because," he said with sudden insight, his face brightening, "if you love me, it can't be my fault, can it? It's only…wrong if we both know…"

"Kanzas," she said slowly, her hands falling, and he saw in her expression a glimmer of the Shirley he'd known on the trip to Vellweb, the one who wasn't scared of him. "Have you ever heard the expression 'you must let go of the past in order to embrace the future'?"

"I have now," he replied, hiding the doll once more in the curve of his closed hand before tucking it back under his sash. "But I can't. Understand that. Have you let go of everything?"

Shirley frowned. "I've tried."

"Well, I can't. Whether I want to or not doesn't matter. And it was a long time ago. The Winglies' fault. Understand?"

She nodded slowly, looking thoughtful. Guilt over an accident, something his master had caused - the excuses and explanations flew instantly into her mind, somewhat soothing her doubts, and she didn't fight them. "You would feel better if you did," she told him. "But I think I do understand." Her tone grew vaguely amused. "At least a little."

"Don't be afraid," he said, his scratchy voice growing soft. "Shirley, do you regret freeing me now?"

"Of course not! And I am not afraid," Shirley answered strongly. Feeling the need to back up her words somehow, she reached for his hand and squeezed it tightly. "The…ghosts here can't hurt me."

But I can- Pulling her forward with a jerk of his arm, Kanzas leaned in and kissed her. He released her hand a moment later as she pushed away, taken aback by the movement. "Why did you come here? It wasn't just to call me for breakfast."

She rubbed the back of her hand across her lips unconsciously. "You said," Shirley began in lieu of an answer, her eyes narrowing in growing realization, "that it wouldn't be wrong if I…loved you?"

"That's right," he answered, turning away, but his voice remained clear to her ears as he started walking back to the ruined lean-tos. He glanced back at her once, teasingly. "I just have to wait for it."

She stood frozen until he was out of sight, her heart pounding in her ears. Finally, she grimaced, clutching at her stomach as if she could press away the strange knot of tension that had suddenly formed there. You don't know what you've gotten yourself into. She was mystified by everything he had just told her; the only thing clear now was that she really wasn't afraid.

Shirley understood the scars the past left on someone. She'd seen it repeatedly in all the slaves she'd helped to free, even the ones who had become her friends. She couldn't worry about what would happen if she let him further into her life, and if he really was to be a Dragoon, as she hoped, there would be no avoiding it anyhow. It was obvious that Kanzas had suffered in the past, and she owed it to him now to continue to treat him kindly, despite the way he both intimidated and infuriated her.

No, what was more, she owed him a healing - if there was some way to put his mind at ease, if something like that was in her power, then she would do her best to help him.

Still, she couldn't quite grasp how things had grown into this out of the vague flirting between them on their first journey. They'd both been acting differently with the others around, and she realized now how Belzac's protection had worked in other ways, keeping her from feeling too serious about it. Her thoughts flew to her friend, who had surely, surely defeated the Golden Dragon by now, and she wondered what he would tell her to do.

Of course, Belzac didn't trust Kanzas, didn't like him. Hadn't he told her that the night he'd left? What if he'd left because…

He's waiting for me to love him, he said. How can he be so sure?

It wouldn't be like things were between Rose and Zieg. They seemed to have stepped right out of a story, the illustration of love at first sight. Nothing with Kanzas would ever be like that; there was too much of him locked away, hidden with the past he clung to.

When she realized she was already thinking about it as an actual possibility - just as he had intended - Shirley stood up straight again and shook her head. She could figure out her feelings later. The Dragoon Spirit was much more important right now, and the Dragon was waiting.

---

Somehow, the rest of the trip wasn't quite as awkward as she'd thought it would be. They rode as usual on Eremi's back, held on by the harness; at first Shirley had worried about where to keep her hands, but slowly it seemed just natural to let them rest around his waist once more. She'd felt his larger hands cover hers, had started resting her cheek against the curve of his shoulderblade. There was no need to speak, since the words were hard to hear anyway.

Maybe, she thought sleepily, the wind whipping against her, things will sort themselves out after all.

Something below, however, made all the sleepiness suddenly dissipate. She sat up straight, gaping at the sea of tents that filled the approaching valley, resting directly between them and their destination. Most of the trees had been cleared from the valley itself, leaving the land looking bare and scarred. From Kanzas' sudden tenseness, she figured that he had seen it for himself.

Eremi must have sensed it too, for she began to slow hesitantly, and Shirley gave the order to land out of sight. Once more the Dragon dipped toward the mountains, sliding between the trees this time as effortlessly as a raindrop from a cloud, her rounded limbs and impressive wings pulled close to her body.

When the white-silver Dragon had settled again, Kanzas turned to face the woman behind him, pulling his legs out from under the harness rope. "What the hell are Winglies doing in that valley?" he demanded.

"I don't know," she answered, biting her lip, "but that was a huge camp. An army base, it seemed. Oh, I hope they aren't gathering to attack Gloriano!"

"Well, it's a good possibility," the russet-haired man answered carelessly, jumping down to the ground. His pack clinked as he moved, full of things he'd collected from the bandit camp. "You can't do anything about it, anyway. How close did we get to the Dragon nest?"

Glancing around, Shirley clambered down as well. She rested her hand on Eremi's scaly side and heaved a sigh, acknowledging his point this time. "Close enough. A few hours to the west, since we can't go straight through the valley. Maybe more than a few hours, since it'll be uphill, but there's no helping it. We'll just have to walk the rest of the way. Hopefully, they're used to seeing Dragons around here and won't be too suspicious."

"Let's go, then," he grumbled. "This is damn bad luck."

/Lay low, Eremi,/ she advised her vassal Dragon, reaching up to pat the creature's pointed snout when she lowered it worriedly toward her Dragoon. /We'll be back as soon as we can./

The rest of the journey through the foothills and up onto the first slopes of the mountain range was fairly straightforward, if hard on the legs. The nest of the Violet Dragon was located in a bowl valley beneath a large crag, and there were enough trees that they could stay under the cover of the branches and not be seen by any scouts from the base below.

This unforeseen difficulty weighed heavily on Shirley's mind. A gathering like this meant the Winglies were definitely growing more nervous. She only hoped that they would hold off on an all-out attack against Gloriano until after all seven Dragoons had come into their power - otherwise, her country would be crushed, as well as the Humans' hopes of ever overthrowing them. Though she wanted to mention it aloud, Kanzas seemed preoccupied, and so the long walk was made in general silence.

Finally, as their altitude grew and the slopes became steeper, they stopped for a break underneath the shade of some huge pines; it was growing chillier as they ascended, but the exercise had kept them warm enough to want to stay out of the sun.

Dropping her pack to the ground next to Kanzas', Shirley sat on a stump to catch her breath. She took a drink from her waterskin as she rested, eyeing the dark crack at the base of the peak, the opening of the cavern the Dragon was in.

"Not far now," she commented to break the silence, lifting her foot and loosening her shoe to inspect a growing blister on the edge of her heel. "Are you ready?"

There was no answer; there was no one else there at all.

Shirley's eyes went wide, and she leapt up, looking around frantically. Something told her that he hadn't just gone off into the trees to relieve himself - no, she was beginning to know him all too well to delude herself about that.

"Kanzas, no!" Of all the times for him to go off on his own! Leaving her pack where it was, she caught up her bow and quiver and began to run for the Dragon's nest as fast as she could, her eyebrows knitting in worry. What are you thinking? We could lose everything-

---

Something crunched beneath the sole of his leather shoe, but in this darkness he couldn't quite see what it was. He had a good idea, though, of the kinds of things a Dragon might leave to warn off visitors. The space crackled with electricity, making the hairs on his forearms stand up. It wasn't an unpleasant feeling, more like he was wading through a sea of warm air.

Just ahead, he could see a pale violet glow seemingly emanating from the ground. With his fingertips pressed against the rough rocky wall to give him some idea of where he was, Kanzas stopped, looking at the light suspiciously.

/Do you hesitate because you fear?/

The voice echoing inside his skull made him jerk back defensively, his fists raised, hand clenching his claw-piece tightly. "Who's there?" he called out, looking around at once to try to discern some kind of shadow separate from all the others, some figure watching him.

/I am here. The end or the beginning. It is up to the fate given you by Soa the creator./

A crackling shower of sparks tumbled to the ground, illuminating the giant shape looming before him. The Thunder Dragon seemed to be a mass of spikes, its scales a pale, glistening purple color. Small eyes like chunks of turquoise shifted to focus on him, the glow from the ground increasing enough that he could finally see two feet in front of himself.

Kanzas drew up straight, dropping his hands. "I don't believe in fate, Dragon," he declared. "I'm just here to get your spirit."

The huge creature let out a breath, making a sound much like amusement, small glints of electricity floating briefly around its tiny head. /Ah, but I wonder, are you fated to gain my spirit? Only the true incarnation of Dragon within Human may claim it. It will not shine for any other./

"I'll get it," he announced confidently, "and it will glow for me, too." He could only hope, however, that the Dragon would play fair. If the faint light in the nest went out, he'd be in serious trouble.

/You seem sure of yourself,/ the Violet Dragon rumbled. /Do you wish so badly to defeat the Winglies?/

Nodding, Kanzas replied evasively, "Oh, I'll kill Winglies, yes."

/It is for this purpose that we, the seven remaining Grand Dragons, agreed to sacrifice ourselves,/ the ancient creature murmured, almost as if lost in thought. Encouraged by this vague sleepiness, the man edged forward a little, adjusting his grip on his claws. /Our children grow dull, and the Winglies enslave them as they do your people. They must be guided if they are to aid you in the uprising. Do you deserve to rule Dragons, Human man?/

"Yes!" he rasped, chuckling lightly. "If you deserve to die for it."

A sound rang in his head like sibilant laughter. /You are a true child of thunder; the greatest of the elements, we are without counterparts, without fundamental weaknesses. But tell me, Human, where is your support, your Dragoon?/

Momentarily bewildered by the praise and disapproval in one shot, Kanzas shook his head dismissively, crouching back and sneering up at the Dragon's faintly-outlined form. "What, Shirley? I don't need her help."

/You will not defeat the Winglies alone - and you will not defeat me alone./

"Wait and see!" he snarled, springing forward as if shot, his arm curled and ready for the strike. There was a piercing grating sound as the claws hit against hard scales, the Dragon twisting its head to avoid the blow to its cluster of eyes.

A moment later the head swung back, huge horns whirling in an arc, and Kanzas found himself suddenly in the air, smacking hard against the side wall of the cave. He fell to the ground, catching himself on hands and knees, and got back up to his feet a bit shakily. "Bastard!" The eyes have to be the weak spot, with all those scales everywhere else.

Spitting to clear his throat, he launched himself at the Dragon again, delivering two successive punches before spinning into a roundhouse aimed at the jaw. In response it raised a clawed foot this time, swiping at him, and he was able to duck out of the most of the strike, though the sharp points managed to rip two deep furrows into his bicep.

Reeling slightly, the man kept moving as fast as he could to avoid the counter-strikes, but nothing he was doing seemed to cause much damage to the creature at all. He'd never fought a Dragon before - but there had to be some way to do this. Zieg and that other one had done it; hell, Shirley had done it, hadn't she? One of them had defeated a Dragon without someone helping, and he could too.

"Damn it, I will kill you!" he howled out, ducking back against the craggy curved side of the cave to catch his breath.

There was no response, but a familiar waver in the air made Kanzas tense up a moment before a crackling ball of teal lightning exploded into being above his head, the bolts smashing downward through him and into the ground. Gasping despite himself, he ran his free hand up across his forehead, wiping away cold sweat. "Barely felt it!" he boasted. "I'm thunder too, remember? You can't hurt me!"

Regardless of his words, he tugged a vial of healing potion from inside his vest, splashing the liquid at himself. Almost instantly, the stiffness the spell had caused faded from his muscles, and the cuts in his arm shrank to nothing. He barely had time to toss down the bottle before having to roll out of the way, the Dragon's huge horns swinging above him and knocking chunks of rock out of the wall, spraying him with the shards.

Feeling better now, Kanzas continued to scrape away at the Dragon, doing his best to aim toward its eyes; the closer he got, the more enraged the Violet Dragon was becoming. And then, suddenly, twisting himself hard enough he could feel his joints pop, he thrust his fist upward, the claw in his hand piercing one turquoise eyeball.

The Dragon roared in pain, blood streaming down the glittering scales, and a wave of energy knocked Kanzas down onto his side. As he stumbled to his feet, his arms raised to guard himself, he watched as its body seemed to radiate a shimmering glow, thin, spike-like wings stretching outward and snapping stalactites away from the ceiling. It threw back its head before it lurched forward with a huge rumbling noise, snout lowered.

No! No-! The word seemed to echo in his head a moment before the pain exploded through him, a horrible strangled scream tearing from his throat. Kanzas could feel his feet leave the ground, his eyes wide and fixed on the Dragon's long front horn, now driven through his stomach and out the other side.

He kicked helplessly, feet scrabbling against scales, trying vainly to push himself off the spike. Sparks of electricity ran like rings outward, slamming into him, his muscles spasming. "You-you-you-" he stuttered, only half-noticing as his claw slipped from his hand and hit the ground with a bell-like ring.

/Fool! Fool, to challenge me alone!/ With a whip-like motion, the Violet Dragon threw Kanzas off its horn, sending him smashing into the wall. Blood spattered brightly along the stone where he hit, a red smear trailing down to the growing puddle around his still, crumpled form. /You, Human, shall have what you deserve-/

"Yes," Shirley's voice said, a hard edge to her tone, "a second chance." Clad in her white and copper Dragoon armor, the woman drew back the string of her bow, a beam of light sliding from her fingers. Looking upward, she let her arrow fly at the ceiling, its magic allowing it to pass through as if it wasn't even there. "Moon Light!"

The beam of healing energy surrounded Kanzas, taking with it as it faded the worst of his wounds. The skin beneath the tear in his vest appeared nearly whole again, though badly discolored. He shoved himself up onto hands and knees, his arms shaking from the effort, and the Dragon sneered, /Ah, so there was one here after all. I welcome you, child of the White-Silver Dragon, but I am afraid your efforts today will be in vain./

Simply hovering in front of the huge creature, Shirley tried not to wince at the sound of Kanzas being violently sick, throwing up the blood that had collected in his newly-healed stomach. He swiped the back of his arm across his mouth, standing and walking with a quick but wobbly stride toward her and grabbing up his weapon from the ground. He said nothing, but she wasn't surprised.

"So you say, ancestor," she replied to the Dragon finally, "but arrogance seems to be a trait of your element." Her eyes flicked meaningfully to the man next to her. "Shall we continue the challenge properly now?"

/Do begin, Dragoon. Show me your worth./

Kanzas growled low in his throat, rushing forward again to attack, and Shirley, scowling, drew upon her spirit's magic for another spell. "Star Children!" she called, raising her bow above her head, pearls of light dripping like water around her. Drawing down her hands, she sent the rain of white radiance toward the Dragon, where it hissed brightly before fading, sending the cave into momentary thick blackness.

When the faint glow returned, the spiky beast was snarling in pain, its scales blackened in places, loosened by the force of the descending beams. Kanzas' strikes seemed to hit harder now, she noticed, her energy failing her and her feet touching down once more. Raising her bow, Shirley began firing arrows, running to avoid slashes from claws and spikes and tensing her jaw against the pain when she ended up being too slow.

She could feel the power rising within her again; the Violet Dragon's spirit energy, its very life force, was being drawn into her own Dragoon Spirit to recharge its strength. Reaching into the pouch at her belt, she grabbed hold of a small bottle, uncorking it and tossing the contents at their adversary. Try this!

A jet of fire streamed up from beneath it, held there as long as she could manage before dissipating. The Dragon immediately turned, rocks flying in the small enclosure as it swung its large forefoot, and the claws ripped painfully into her leg as she scrambled out of the way.

Moments later, there was a roar from the earth above; weakened by the fighting and the thrashing of the Dragon, a portion of the cave's ceiling suddenly collapsed. Rocks hit Human and reptile alike as they rushed in, though they mostly fell on the Dragon in the center. It burst from the pile, spraying debris, its head tilted back as it looked up briefly at the brightness of the blue sky above and the sunlight streaming down.

Then the acrid, metallic smell of blood filled the air, even stronger than before, and Shirley struggled upward to see Kanzas driving his claws into the Dragon's throat just where it met the underside of its jaw, piercing a small area of skin where the scales had burned away. His entire fist nearly descended into the reptile's flesh, and as he dragged it sideways the Dragon's scream rang in her ears, making tears spring up at the corners of her eyes.

"Die!" Kanzas hissed, yanking his hand back and stumbling out of the way as the Dragon collapsed into the heap of stone surrounding it, its short legs giving way beneath it. He too fell to his knees before he even realized it had happened, clutching at the half-healed puncture wound in his gut.

/Take it, take my spirit, quickly,/ it struggled out, sparks crackling from its open, gaping mouth and its breath whistling from its punctured esophagus. /Wield my soul against the Winglies./

He laughed shortly, automatically retorting, "Huh, see! I told you!" The russet-haired man suddenly looked confused, his face lined with the pain he had been ignoring until now. "What do I-?"

The tears now streaming freely down her cheeks, Shirley drew her dagger from its sheath on her belt, rushing forward awkwardly over piles of rubble. Using one of its spikes as a stepping-stone, she clambered up the side of the dying Dragon, charred scales hot beneath her palms. "Thank you," she choked, raising the blade, "for your sacrifice, Thunder Dragon!"

The Dragon rocked to the side a bit, its gaze focused on the wiry man kneeling across from it. /Even had you won alone, you would have lost,/ it breathed to him laboriously.

Kanzas watched, disbelieving, as the woman drove the blade into the creature's largest eye, slicing down hard before thrusting her hand within the turquoise orb. Something small and shimmering came out in her palm, covered in a clear fluid that dripped between her slender fingers.

Shirley slid down from the Dragon's corpse, her gaze focused momentarily on the long nose-horn stained almost to its end with the man's blood. She then limped toward him, scrubbing sticky tears from her cheeks with her forearm. "It meant," she said quietly, "that if you'd killed it alone, you would have lost the Dragoon Spirit, not knowing how to get it."

"That's it?" he breathed, ignoring the comment. He sheathed his claw-piece before straightening a little and using the rocks around him to help himself back up to his feet. "That thing from its eye?"

"The Dragon's soul, taken just as its life ends." As Kanzas held out his hand to receive it, she relaxed her fingers, watching the small orb fly from her palm on its own. It truly accepts him, she thought, feeling a spark of happiness amidst her sorrow at ending the Dragon's life.

The moment it touched the man's fingertips, it burst into a bright violet glow, rays dancing blindingly in front of her face. He, however, didn't even blink, gazing at it in wonder. She could feel the Dragoon Spirit around her neck resonating in kind, its own light shining through the cloud of rock dust that hovered in the air.

Kanzas covered the orb in both hands, muting the glow a little, and looked up at Shirley, his face breaking into a look of rapture that startled her with its intensity. He seemed so different somehow - calm, if that was truly the word, almost serene. "This power!" he exclaimed hoarsely, his gaze suddenly whipping toward the Dragon's cooling body, and the moment passed. "What the hell is…?"

There was a bright flash of light once more, emanating from the body and obscuring it momentarily. When it faded, the corpse was gone, but lying amidst the fallen rock was something else instead. "The Dragon has been reborn," Shirley whispered. "Its final child, your vassal Dragon."

"My god," he said, stunned, staring at the small violet-scaled creature. Half-formed spikes were already sprouted along its squat form. It raised its head to look at him, and the Dragoon Spirit in his hands thrummed like a beating heart, a gentle probing thought piercing into his mind. /Hey,/ he found himself thinking back instinctively. /You're mine./

"Give him a name," Shirley urged gently, not taking her eyes off him even as she wiped her hand and dagger clean and sheathed it. "He cannot speak like the Grand Dragons, but he will know it, and know you."

He shook his head, wincing as the motion made the whole pit of debris spin before his eyes. He closed them tightly, trying to force the dizziness to cease. "I don't know, I don't - just…okay, Taranis. Call him Taranis, I don't know…"

"Taranis," she repeated thoughtfully, "that's an interesting name."

"Yeah, well-" he responded, but got no further as he pitched forward, his forehead banging hard on a boulder as his body slumped across it.

Oh, no, I forgot! A moment too late, Shirley reached for him, dragging him up again by the back of his armored vest and sitting down to lay him across her knees. He'd passed out from the shock of his wound combined with receiving his spirit, she saw, gently touching his stomach where the half-healed hole had broken open again. "Kanzas, you arrogant fool," she murmured with fondness.

He had relaxed in unconsciousness, though his hand remained clenched tightly around the Violet Dragon's spirit, the constant lines of tension and anger temporarily melted from his face. She found something familiar there in his pale features, bending closer as she reached for her own Dragoon orb to heal him.

"-quake, do you think?"

"No, it couldn't be. You heard it! It was definitely the Dragon."

Shirley choked down a cry of alarm, her head shooting up at the sound of the voices coming from overhead. We can't be found here! was the only certainty she had at the moment, and so she locked her arms beneath Kanzas' and around his chest, rising up to awkwardly drag him somewhere out of sight. He was heavier than his short frame looked, and the rocks were piled rather precariously, threatening to send her tumbling.

Just as she was sure she'd have to fight the newcomers, Shirley made it to the bottom of the debris, wedging herself and the man between the remnants of the cave wall and some of the rubble and trying to ignore the pain of her own wounds in the process. Pressing her mouth against her arm to muffle her labored breathing, she looked up just as two Wingly soldiers descended from the sky above, taking in the mess of the former Dragon's nest.

"See, I told you!" the owner of the second voice said again, shaking his head. "Something happened to the Dragon here."

"Then what's that?" The first soldier pointed toward Taranis - though, Shirley saw with growing horror, the small Dragon had already gotten bigger, the circumstances of its birth endowing it with an advanced growth cycle. Worst of all, she could feel the baby reptile's confusion in her mind, a bond usually only shared between vassal Dragon and the owner of its Dragoon Spirit. Afraid, he was searching through the link for a response that couldn't be given.

"Looks like it had offspring," one of the voices said. Gravel tumbled down the slope as the Wingly scouts approached Taranis, pelting the two Humans. Shirley curled forward to shield Kanzas from it, biting her lip and praying they wouldn't be seen.

"Idiot, it was a male Dragon."

"That doesn't matter with Dragons!" There was a soft flare of light as the Winglies suddenly flew back; the small violet-scaled Dragon was rearing up as best it could, sparks crackling from its mouth to warn the two soldiers away. "And maybe the big one's coming back!" he argued, touching down again a short distance away.

"Then I have an idea. We have leave coming up, right? And I have tickets to the arena."

"Ah, lucky!"

"Well, the Dragons they've got lately are those tiny species, you know? There's no fun at all in it. But a Grand Dragon in the arena?"

The woman knew exactly what the soldiers were talking about, and her heart began pounding even harder in dread, so much that she didn't know how they couldn't hear it. Closing her eyes hard, Shirley tried to focus her thoughts and tell Taranis to fly. The Dragon's head lifted, and he looked around as if trying to hear, but he couldn't understand her.

"Is it just me, or did this thing get bigger than it was a minute ago?"

"Well, if we both make the sphere, we should be able to get it back to base, right? The commander would go for it too, don't you think?"

The soldier snorted. "For a cut of the selling price, yeah. But we can't go behind his back."

"Right. Anyway, let's get it out of here quick, in case the big one does return."

The two Winglies hovered in the air, their hands out to trace identical magic sigils. Shirley winced, hearing Taranis' high-pitched scream of fear suddenly cut off by the orb of energy surrounding him. Oh, I'm so sorry! She hid her face against Kanzas' shoulder as the two soldiers ascended, taking the Dragon with them. Nothing like this had ever happened before - and she had no idea what to do about it now.