Author's Note: Welcome back to the madness that is my schedule. I finally got out another chapter- I've actually been working on this sucker in bits and pieces since I dropped off the site in September-November-ish. In addition to editing, I've written this. Like always, let me know if you find something that looks like a typo, misspellings, or weird plot holes. I'm introducing a ridiculous number of characters all at once, because I'm too lazy to do it properly, and I fixed Katja's inner voice. Yay! So enjoy- or not, it's not like I can force you to like me or anything.

"You can't, can you? You're incapable of feeling anything for anyone, and you think that makes what you do okay!"

I don't understand what's going on- why is he yelling at me? Do I even know this guy? He looks familiar, but I'm sure I've never seen him before.

"I'm not incapable of feeling, I just choose not to feel. It's what separates the strong from the weak, what separates me from you. Compassion is weak. Love is weak. Desire is weak." I might not know what's happening, but my dream self does. Why am I saying such horrible things to him? I don't want to say these things, I know I don't, but they seem so easy to just let slip.

"Those things aren't weak- that's what made General Ike successful in the Mad King's War. It's what gave the laguz rights and created the Branded!"

Red hair, fiery like the temper he's showing, but not a hell of a lot of muscle to back it up with. Not that he hasn't any muscle, but he'd be crushed in a fist fight. I don't understand why we're fighting, it makes no damn sense to me. I finally yell back after keeping my voice calm and collected.

"You think love is what made something like me? You think love is what laguz bandits running wild in the countryside feel for the women they force themselves onto? I never knew my father, he left before I was born and never came back- that sure as hell isn't love! And as for laguz rights, how about our rights in Gallia? What about us? We still get beaten in the streets for nothing more than showing our Brands! Is that compassion?"

For someone who doesn't like words I sure am using a lot of them. Nobody gets under my skin like that anymore, not even Volke can reduce me to a screaming, tearful mess. Yeah, I'm crying now, tears rolling sluggishly down my cheeks. And the man, he's stopped looking angry now, instead looking like I just slapped him. I know he didn't know his real parents- how do I know that?- but at least he had a surrogate. I had no one, and it's just dawning on him now the horrible, horrible mistake he's made.

"Katja, I- if I'd known, I'd never have said what I did. I had no idea…"

"Well, that's the difference then, isn't it? You're sorry, so that makes it all better." His expression gets even more mortified as I continue speaking in that voice, the deadly quiet one that Volke sometimes uses on clients who threaten to expose him. I didn't think it was possible for me to sound so evil, or for his face to get any paler than when he first realized his mistake. Somehow, both are happening. I'd laugh if I could, but watching this from the outside leaves me without a body to move or a voice to use.

"How can you be so cold? You lost your parents, you were enslaved by a greedy Begnion noble, and you were raised to be an assassin. I understand that, but how can you hate yourself so much that you think everyone else does too?"

"Screw you-" I say his name, but my mind blurs it and I can't understand what I'm saying- "just screw you. You don't know anything about me."

I wake up in a cold sweat, gasping for air, with the last words echoing through my head. I don't know how I got into the bedroll- either Volke put me here or I collapsed from exhaustion, but it can't have been more than a few hours- sun isn't quite peeking over the horizon, but the sky's a pinkish sort of colour.

It's been five days since we left Nevassa.

Volke and I split up with Jessob and Bastian at the Crimea-Daein border. They're going to go to Melior and get the queen, then move on down to the meeting of all the countries. Meanwhile, Volke and I are going to the meeting place and planning out some defenses with the people already there. Then we're going to wait for everybody to show up, and hopefully Bastian will have forgotten all about wanting me to be a sort of "ambassador" for the Branded. Not likely that'll happen, but definitely possible.

I'm not sure whether to tell Volke about my dream or not. I know he wouldn't want me to lose sleep when I have a job to get ready for, especially one that takes this kind of brain power, but he isn't exactly supportive of weakness. Best thing I can do is probably to wait for him to notice I'm exhausted and ask what's up, then convince him to give something to help me sleep, like a potion or a swift kick to the head. Whatever works- I'm past the point of caring now.

I sit up and stretch my arms, listening to the satisfying popping of my elbows, wrists, and every vertebra from my low back to my neck. I know that I'll hear the same sounds from most of my low body as well when I stand, so I make sure Volke isn't around before I start moving- he has hearing like a dog, and it really annoys him when I crack my joints, especially my toes.

Unfortunately for the both of us, he just walked into the clearing in time for me to crack my hips. I ignore his glare and continue down my leg- knees, ankles, even got a pop from my left arch today. And finally, the last straw that will either make my day or break my neck…

The toes.

I crack them slowly, relishing the scowl on his face every time I get a pop. If I die today, I die more or less satisfied.

The look on his face- don't laugh don't laugh don't laugh… does snorting count?

"It's really not funny, Katja. You're going to get stiff toes when you're older."

Shit.

"Oooh, scary, stiff toes when I'm two hundred and thirty seven," I mock. He just glares at me and disappears back into the trees. Seriously, I'm not going to live long enough to have to worry about stiff toes. Besides, who does he think he is, my dad?

Actually, that would be cool. And I might even be able to forgive him- I think I remember him visiting sometimes when I was really little… and there's something else, something important- I get the feeling that if I could just remember…

My head suddenly begins to throb in time with my heartbeat, making me lose my thought.

"Oh for the love of… really? Now?" Bloody headaches. I really don't understand why I get these goddess-awful migraines.

I shake my head. I don't have time for this; I need to pack my stuff and get ready to leave. Start my checklist: sword, throwing knives, unnamed dagger, brass knuckles- why do I carry more weapons than spare clothes?- extra shirt, extra trousers, medicine bag. Medicine bag checklist: deadly nightshade, Wolfsbane, valerian root, ginger, olivi grass, aloe vera, montbretia, cayenne, chamomile, elderberry…

"Damn."

No poppy straw. When did I run out of poppy straw? I thought I had a ton. If I'd known when we were in Daein I'd have harvested some, it was the right time of year and it's expensive to buy in other countries; the closer you are to the Gallian border, the more it costs, and once you're in it's nigh on impossible to find. Most Gallian merchants refuse to carry it because it's mostly produced in Daein and because it can be used to get high. I do know that from experience- I took too much after being slashed to ribbons in a fight and ended up seeing some crazy stuff. I still use it, but not recreationally, just for my migraines. It doesn't hurt as much and it's less intense when I've taken painkillers.

"Ready yet?"

I don't start- haven't since my second year of training- but my heart does skip a beat.

"You ass! You did that on purpose, as revenge for my joint cracking," I scowl. "You know I have to do that if I want to be able to sneak around."

He snuck up behind me while I was inventorying! That is the lowest, most ignorant trick I've ever heard of. It was mean, it was sneaky, it was underhanded, it was…

So completely and utterly Volke.

"Not the point. Are you ready or not?"

"Yeah, guess so. How much gold do you have?"

He raises an eyebrow and smirks.

"Are you telling me that you don't have any money? Don't you have a job?"

Oh for Altina's sake- don't you have a job? Seriously? You actually asked me that? How stupid are you?! Come closer, I'm gonna pull your brain outta your skull and show you exactly what isn't working in there. What kind of idiot motherfu-

"No, I don't have a job."

-are you?! I'm a friggin' thief, you think I'd just work at a bar or inn for a pittance? Like anyone'd even hire me! All I'd have to do is beat up one patron and I'd be finished!

Alright. I'm done ranting now.

"Typical. What do you need?"

"Poppy straw. I don't have any left, and it's almost impossible to buy in Gallia. I need some before we get there, but it's expensive."

"I'll get you some as soon as I can- I have contacts."

Of course you do. How could you not?

I nod and continue through the rest of my inventory- I'm also low on other various ingredients, but nothing as important as the poppy straw. I gather my things and load them onto my horse. I ride an old black mare with white socks and the sweetest, gentlest temperament you could ever find. When I bought her the farmer had named her Socks- typical ingenuity of the general public- so I renamed her Dawn. Volke tells me I spoil her, but I feel she deserves it. She worked as a plough horse for I don't know how many years, then I bought her to use as a pack horse whenever I travel (which is frequently) and sometimes to give Jessob rides, and he is the squirmiest rider you'll ever find.

I give her a pat on the nose and cut a slice out of my apple to feed her. I smile as she crunches it, then mount her. Volke mounts his own horse- nameless of course- and we begin another day's ride to the center of Tellius.

"We almost there?"

"You're like a small child, whining about how far it is."

I snort.

"This is the first time I've asked in six days of riding, and I didn't whine."

"Almost there."

Good. My backside aches from all the riding, and Dawn is showing signs of fatigue, poor thing.

This whole affair seems rather ridiculous to me, all the countries meeting in the same spot on the same day, with the possibility of negotiations stretching for a week or more; a group of well-trained assassins could take out the lot before anyone realized what was going on. I understand that the Laguz are powerful, but they can't be that bad… can they? Then again, I heard that when Dheginsea was still alive he could destroy a castle with one blow, and that he was also one of the heroes who originally sealed Yune in Lehran's medallion. His son's taken over since then, but still.

Maybe it would be harder than I thought…

Volke suddenly stops his horse and signals for me to stop as well. Dawn whinnies softly and I pat her neck; she obviously hears something that I don't, but I can't have her alerting enemies that we're nearby. I resist the urge to turn my head as a flash of blue teases my peripheral vision and a large shadow passes directly in front of myself and Dawn, but I draw my hand into my sleeve and undo the clip holding my knife in its sheath on my forearm. The weight of the hilt is comforting in my grip, ready to be stabbed into enemy flesh or thrown with deadly precision.

Five felines prowled onto the road in front of us- two tigers, three cats. The two orange cats transform into a couple of women that look incredibly similar, the tigers become a well-muscled man with board-like posture and silvery hair and another man with a hulking figure and gentle eyes. The blue cat turns into an ugly, filthy-

Okay fine. He's attractive… as in really attractive. His blue hair is messy and held back with a headband of sorts; it has flaps on the sides that cover the sides of his head where human ears would be. His own peek up from the top of his head, definitively feline, and his tail twitches behind him. It's not agitated twitching, just restless. He's lean muscled, not too tall or too short, and he's confident without being cocky. And, and, and… there's just so much about him that's attractive. He is G-O-R-G-E-O-U- to the S.

"Who're you?"

Volke tosses him a scroll of paper, which is deftly caught and carefully opened. He reads it and slips it into his belt.

"Off the horses. Kyza and Lyre will take them to the stables. You two will walk with us."

Fine by me. Dawn needs a break, and I need to stretch my legs. The female with the pink outfit tries to take Dawn, who neighs and pulls back. The Laguz hisses. I roll my eyes.

"You need to be gentle with her, she's old. If you just hold the reigns slack and walk, she'll follow."

She glares at me, but takes my advice and gives Dawn some slack, and the horse follows placidly along behind her.

I suppress a smirk and walk over to where Volke and the blue cat are standing. The Laguz looks at me and smiles.

"I already know Volke, and I had a note explaining why you're here, but I'd kind of like to know your name," he says. And oh, his voice. Like cool water- not cold, just pleasantly cool and refreshing. It runs over my skin, like when you burst from underwater and the water streams from your hair and down your arms, and it's sincere. It doesn't have a sticky feeling like he's trying to sell me some old piece of junk, but it doesn't slide off like someone trying to flatter me into doing something shady.

I immediately decide three things: first, he's hot. Second, I kind of like him- not necessarily in a "relationship" sense, but I definitely like him. Third, he is dangerous, and I shouldn't let my guard down.

So I smile coyly, offer my hand, and say one word.

"Katja."

He smiles in return, grabs my hand, and gives it a firm shake. "Very pretty. Doesn't sound like anything I've really heard before."

"It's not from here. My parents were from the mountains- not a lot of contact with the outside world. We had our own little tribe, really secluded. Lot of us had some interesting names." I love the feeling of opening up to him, telling him about myself. It makes me feel happy and safe. And it doesn't require me to actually tell him anything.

Everything I told him is, of course, a lie.

He gives me a strange look, but doesn't question me. I realize how my story must sound: the mountains are basically unhospitable, and as far as anyone (including myself) knows, nobody lives up there. But it's as hard to disprove as it is to prove, so it's safe as any other lie I could improvise.

"Alright then. Follow us- it's not too far."

I decide that I rather enjoy the company of Ranulf- the blue cat- and Mordecai, the large blue-ish tiger. Mordecai is just about the gentlest thing I've ever seen besides Dawn, and his New Tongue is broken, which is endearing. He's also very quiet, which suits me just fine. Mordecai lets the comfortable, unburdened silence hang between us as we walk; as much as I like Ranulf, he appears to be set on learning as much about me as I'm willing to teach.

Also, Lethe is glaring at me.

When we arrive at the actual meeting place I'm introduced to a ridiculous number of people. I already know Janaff, Ulki, Tibarn and Reyson, but then a tornado of names and faces go by. I pick one defining feature to associate with every name: purple hair is Empress Sanaki, white armor is Sigrun, stern face is Tanith, red mane is Skrimir, scary posture is Giffca, female heron is Leanne, cocky is Naesala, old is Nealuchi, soft is Rafiel, female wolf is Nailah, male wolf is Volug, raven-thief is Gale, female raven is Marissa, dragon girl is Ena, boat captain is Nasir, ten-year-old is Kurthnaga. There are more, and even more coming later, but that's all my brain can handle. Volke sees me starting to overload and steers me away from the group.

"Take a break. It's not vital that you know all of their names, just their faces. We'll just be here long enough to set up some defense strategies, then you'll get paid and you can go back to whatever you were doing before."

I take a sip of water from the canteen he offers me and consider what he's just said. Not about getting paid- that I have zero issues with- but about going back to what I was doing before.

Before this contract, I was working for lowlifes like Adrian- or Scarface, as I call him. Even before that, I was working for the Freak Army, the Branded rebel group, fighting humans and slandering anyone who sympathized with the Laguz, the sub-humans. At first I was all for it- I thought I would be better off. But Jessob is Beorc, and Bastian.

Maybe I'll head to Crimea and get a real job- I heard Aimee talking about a bar run by a couple she knew during the Mad King's War… I think she said their names were Largo and Calill…

"Sure you don't have a job for me? I know you always work alone, but if you let me in on a couple you didn't want, I could give you a percentage."

I look up at him. He takes back the canteen, staring straight ahead.

"No."

… so there. I have no choice; I'm going to have to crawling back to Scarface and hope that he doesn't make me do anything personal before he gives me a real job.

"Fine," I try to sound offhand. He takes a breath as though he's going to explain, but appears to think better of it.

"I think I could use some time by myself to process all this. Is there somewhere I can go? A tent, or a tree, or a rock I can crawl under?"

Just then a Begnion soldier stops by us, clearing his throat awkwardly. He looks pretty young, and he's definitely shy. He keeps looking at me- do I have dirt on my face or something? If he has something to say, he should just spit it out. I don't like waiting.

"E-excuse me Miss," he stammers, "There's some people looking for you- a blonde man and a little boy-"

I bolt.

I don't even care that I probably confused him and quite possibly offended him, because I need to find Jessob now, as in right now, before something happens to him.

Left and right and left again; get out of my way, damn it, can't you see I'm in a hurry? For the love of Ashera, move! Where is Jessob, I need to find him, I can't leave him alone and unprotect-

"Let me help you up. You should watch where you're going, you know."

… ouch.

I turned my head at the wrong moment and ran into somebody. That's embarrassing, but not as embarrassing as the fact that I got knocked flat on my ass and he's offering me a hand up. I can feel my face burning, but my entire body is burning too- why?

I look up and see a smiling face. The hand offered is sporting green gloves, fingerless, and the arm it's attached to is lean. I grab his forearm, he does likewise, and he pulls me to my feet with more strength than I thought he had in his entire body. He's wearing brown shorts, boots, an orange-red-ish cape, and a green shirt. His hair is red as well as his eyes, and it's held back with a strip of green cloth- the hair not the eyes, obviously. He's taller than me, but not by a whole lot- definitely shorter than Sothe. Standing behind him is a Laguz- tiger, judging by the markings and ears, with dark green hair and very tan skin.

"I'm sorry, but I can't stop- I'm looking for somebody. I'm so, so sorry," I repeat as I back away, scanning for the nearest opening in the crowd.

"Whoah, hold on- if you tell me who you're looking for, we can help you."

Ah. That's where the burning comes from. That's his voice- waves of heat and sparks landing on my arms and neck.

No time- there's my opening.

"Look, I can help you- I'm-"

"Gone," I force out, and then I am.