The next few days were spent travelling under the dense desert sun that beat down upon their backs like blazing whips. The air hung heavy about the party as Reaver's attitude towards Corban had grown particularly frosty for some unknown reason. One evening, whilst sitting under the moon lit sky Sparrow and Garth talked as Lorna repaired on of her rag dolls. The desert was quiet when Reaver crawled from his small make shift tent looking around with vain disinterest.

"Where's the river rat?" Reaver asked his tone unkind and Sparrow shot him a hard glare.

"Corban is taking a walk, as he said, in that direction" she replied waving vaguely, turning back to Garth who was flicking through a medium sized volume that was yellowing with age and evidence was clear that bookworms had got into it at one time or another.

Reaver's eyes narrowed suspiciously. He turned to peer into the darkness thoughtfully and Sparrow watched him out of the corner of her eye. The way he stood straight and held with pride Sparrow could almost imagine him standing at the prow of a ship shouting orders to a shabby crew. She quickly looked away when he began to slowly amble round the small fire in the direction she indicated.

"A walk indeed," he muttered clambering past a dozing Ginrul that snapped at him as he passed, annoyed that he had disturbed its nap. When he had disappeared into the darkness the two looked to each other then shrugged.

"Now, I wanted to show you this Sparrow," Garth whispered casting a quick glance towards Lorna who was absorbed in her repair work, her tiny pink tongue sticking out in concentration.

"What's that?" Sparrow asked as the mage flipped the page. Words written in the Samarkandian script surrounded a strange crest detailed in silver etched into the page. In the centre of a circle was creature unlike anything Sparrow had ever seen. Its torso and head was that of a form of mammal, most likely a cat, with cruel looking claws. The lower half was a fish tail curled about itself and from its back were a pair of partially unfurled wings. From the creatures head curled a pair of sheep horns. What its meaning was Sparrow did not know, but as she looked at Garth a strange feeling crept over her.

"Have you ever heard of the Animagi?" Garth asked as his finger swept under the words curled about the surface of the paper. Sparrow shook her head and Garth smiled knowingly.

"I didn't think so," he said looking up at the confused women, "they were said to have been a sect, a bit like the mage syndicate to which I belong here in Samarkand. However, when they came to this country some six or seven hundred years ago our people rejected them for... their strange practises. Though very little remains as evidence of their existence, as most of it was either burned deliberately or the mages buried it, some evidence remained. This tome was handed down through the generations of my family. It was written by a great grandfather who lived a few hundred years ago and it outlines some of his observations of what were called the Animagi when he passed beyond the eastern borders on what we call a 'Spirit Journey,' basically to find ones self by travelling." The wizard paused in his narrative to regard the small girl solemnly. "Though he describes seeing these people their numbers had since dwindled to a few hundred in his lifetime."

Sparrow looked mildly shocked and tilted her head questioningly. "Why was that?"

Garth shrugged. "It may have something to do with the witch hunts, the skirmishes between mages and Animagi that occurred. It never escalated to war like scale, as Samarkand Mages out numbered the Animagi nearly seven to one. It is sad numbers, but it was true. Then a hundred years ago the race was finally, and officially, declared extinct."

"Hang on, I thought you said it was a sect," Sparrow pointed out.

"I did," he gave her a sorrowful smile and her eyes widened in realisation. "You see, the Mages did not realise that the Animagi were a race like the Albionese or the Samarkandians and we wiped them out like a farmer would clear a field, devoid of life." His voice vibrated with regret and sadness.

Sparrow put a comforting hand on his shoulder and gave it a friendly squeeze. "Garth, you can't feel responsible for something that was not your fault."

"That as the case maybe," he replied dolefully, "Its not easy knowing that your race was responsible for the extinction of another."

Sparrow smiled and nodded though she was curious still. "So what did these Animagi do?"

"Ahh that's the great mystery," he said raising a finger in the air to emphasise his point, "Many sources recount the Animagi always having at least one animal with them. Their magic was very strong though they were weak against the more physical or elemental spells. Anything else about them, how their society was structured, what their family life was like, all that, was unknown. I often think that if the Syndicate had known maybe it would not of gone as far as it would have."

As Garth talked Sparrow stared down at the small girl who hummed to herself as her needle flickered in the warm light of the fire. She finally felt she understood something, but as she went to ask Garth something a great cry echoed through the darkness. Lorna was the first to see the two struggling figures making their way to the camp and she let out a scream dashing behind a Ginrul to protect herself. The little faery circled above chattering and shining a angry red.

The two bodies landed in the sand near the fire and rolled around as they struggled for dominance over the other. Reaver managed to knee his attacker in the gut and Corban flinched long enough for Reaver to grab his hair forcing him to the side. A furious and shocked Sparrow jumped to her feet just in time as Reaver was kicked to the floor. Garth sprung out the way much as Lorna had done using the Ginrul as a shield. The birds watched the squabbling pair with detached disinterest whilst the young white Ginrul squawked and flapped its wings trying to keep them away from the small girl that cowered behind its mother.

Reaver made to kick the dark skinned man in the gut, but Corban managed to catch the foot and flung the pirate back causing him to land heavily on his back. Reaver grunted when he hit the floor and as Corban pounced on him, he nimbly rolled to the side and onto his feet, crouching like a cat. Corban landed face down in the sand and Reaver pulled him up by the back of the shirt, balled his fist, then walloped Corban hard in the stomach. The Samarkandian coughed and sputtered as he was pulled up right. Reaver pulled back his fist and it collided with Corban's face sending him sailing backwards through the air, then landing in the sand with a heavy thud.

"Reaver, stop it!" Sparrow cried as she raced forward to intervene, but Reaver held up a warning hand.

"Don't get involved Sparrow!" he roared as Corban tackled him to the ground, his bright white teeth flashed in the glow of the fire as dark blood trickled down his nose. As they rolled kicking up sand, they dangerously neared the fire and Sparrow screamed. To her horror Corban kicked Reaver hard enough to send the fire flying landing square into the fire. With a yelp Reaver hurriedly rolled away from the blaze, rolling back back and forth in an attempt to quench the flames that had attached themselves to his attire. With a smug grin Corban raise a pistol from inside of his coat and aimed. Sparrow jumped in and grabbed Corban's hand forcing the weapon upwards so, as the pistol exploded, the bullet rocketed into the dark sky.

"What has gotten into you!?" Sparrow barked her lips curled back in feral anger as she locked gazes with Corban. She watched as the harshness faded from the amber orbs leaving them glowing like embers. Even as he tried to yank his arm free Sparrow held it firm with surprising strength as she glowered at him.

"Answer me... the pair of you!!" she demanded as she looked over her shoulder at Reaver who had managed to get to his feet. His clothes hung in tatters from his body though he appeared unscathed and glared back the muscles in his cheeks taunt.

Neither men spoke, but as the silence began to infuriate Sparrow more the creak of wood and jingling of bells on harnesses made them all look in to the frigid darkness. As she blinked Sparrow suddenly found her self staring at more Ginrul fowl their large eyes glittered in the light of the waning fire. Lorna blinked and trotted over to Reaver to hide amongst his singed clothing. One particularly large Ginrul slowly strode forward its large clawed feet stepping on the sand lightly. As Garth watched it near fire his eyes went wide as a white robed figure grinned down at him with pearly white teeth.

"Ho there boy!" a familiar voice said with a deep chuckle, "found that temple then did ya?" Garth nearly fainted on the spot as the old man laughed at the mage's shocked expression.

Reaver sat upon a pouffe as a dark skinned women inspected his shoulder where a fairly nasty burn made his skin feel very sore. He watched her as she applied a form of cream and as her large, dark eyes peered up to look into his Reaver gave her a charming smile. A dark flush was evident as she looked away with a tiny of a smile. Reaver grinned and looked about his environment curiously. It was a typical nomad tent. Sparse and devoid of much furnishings as most Samarkandian nomads prefer the use of cushions, pouffes, rugs and other such textiles, which were easy to roll up and pack when the time to move arose. Apart from the lack of solid 'anything' it was quite cheery with bright colours that had been tastefully put together so nothing clashed. Reaver nodded approvingly as the tent flap rustled and Lorna approached with a wide eyed look of mild shock as she coyly handed him a bag. Reaver grinned when he looked into the bag and gave the small girl a cheeky wink.

"Well done poppet," he congratulated and hand the small girl a little bag that rustled slightly as she clasped it eagerly. She immediately plonked her self next to him and dipped her small finger into the bag expectantly before pulling out a sweet rapped in coloured paper. She smiled and unwrapped it plopping it in her mouth, then sucked happily. She handed Reaver one who held up a hand to decline her offer.

"Very sweet of you dear but I am not a big fan of sweets," he said eyeing the maid as she finished up. The women curtsied and left through the tent flap, and through it she could be seen running through the sand like her life depended on it. Reaver chuckled.

"Well my dear, what now?" he said as he passed a clean tunic over his head.

"Well the old man Oota Dabun is talking to Garth in the big tent," she said in a helpful voice as her cheek looked puffed up with the sweet she was sucking.

"Hmm, no, I can't think why I would want to listen to some old bloke prattle on," he sighed and his eyes became a light as he looked into the bag, "I think I will go visit Sparrow, where is she?"

Lorna meekly toyed with her skirt as she looked around like a conspirator doing something very naughty. "She is hiding," she whispered.

"Hiding... from who?" he asked leaning forward curiously.

Lorna shrugged as her tunic bugled slightly. Reaver jumped and leaned away looking at the moving lump with disgust. The lump moved with jittery stops and starts as it made its way to the neck line of Lorna's thin blouse. The head of the faery appeared and tweeted inquisitively. Reaver sighed and shook his head passing a hand through his hair as he stood removing a few items from the bag.

"Alright Lorna, I will see you later and, er, if breakfast is nearly ready... don't wait up," he said leaving a confused little girl with her faery. Lorna watched him walk through the tent flap leaving her alone in the silent tent. She blinked once, then twice before jumping to her feet.

"I think I will take my chances with the old man," she muttered dashing towards the said tent.

Reaver walked between the colourful pavilions with children running to and from them in some childish game. In one hand was a wine skin and the other was two goblets, which he hoped he could share with Sparrow. Sure she would complain it was a bit early for that sort of thing, but he was never forced under the constraints of time. He searched from one pavilion to another peering curiously through tent flaps though it strictly was none of his business, but he could not help having a curious nature, he grinned. Just when it looked like Sparrow had disappeared of the face of the desert he rounded a tent sat on the edge of the encampment and there, underneath a poorly strung up shelter, was Sparrow laying on her back staring into nothing.

"Ah, there you are my dear," he said planting the goblets into the sand, "I thought you had done a runner on us." Sparrow looked at him from the corner of her eye regarding him stoically.

"It had crossed my mind," she replied fiddling with the ring that sat glittering on her finger.

Silence fell over them for a while till Reaver spoke again as he poured the skins contents into one of the goblets. "You know, I would have thought you would have been fawning over Corban."

Sparrow shot him a sharp glare but decided not to take the bait and sighed. "No, I... I dunno," was all she could manage. Reaver smiled inwardly to himself and held up the goblet.

"Wine?" Sparrow looked at it speculatively and Reaver blinked a little tipping to peer at its contents. "It is what's called Fireflower wine," he told her swishing its contents in circular movements, "Its very delicious but quite strong."

Sparrow's eyes narrowed suspicion shone plainly in her eyes making Reaver sigh. "Isn't it a bit early?"

He made a snort "My dear, I care little, when it comes to drinking, what time it is, because any time is good time for a drink." She snorted in amusement as he held the goblet to her, "now drink!"

She sat up, then slowly reached out and took the goblet sniffing it cautiously before taking a sip. The liquid filled her mouth in an explosion of flavour that made her gag. The fumes caught in her throat and she coughed more in surprise than at the strength of the drink.

"I thought you were kidding!" she accused and Reaver laughed taking a sip from his own. "Bastard!"

"And then some," he replied with a boyish grin as he leaned back to rest on his hand, "nice though isn't it, it has a very fruity flavour with a hint of pepper that kicks you in the tonsils as you swallow. They call it a wine but I liken it to more of a whisky or rum, though rum is smoother."

Sparrow could not help but laugh as she slowly sipped the drink fully prepared for that proverbial kick in the tonsils.

"I confess I never tried Whisky, but I do like rum," she said staring into her wooden cup. Reaver gave her an appraising look, which Sparrow replied with a confused frown. He raised an eyebrow looking surprised.

"I figured you for more of a wine person," he confessed and Sparrow chuckled shaking her head.

"Not really, wine tends to be a bit bitter for my tastes, but I prefer the likes of ale with the occasional drop of rum."

"Well, you learn something new everyday," Reaver said draining his goblet, he then looked a little more serious as he poured himself out more, "Out of curiosity, does Lorna really have a slave brand on her person?"

The question caused Sparrow to stiffen and she gulped slightly. She looked down at the sand as the image of Lorna's burnt, warped flesh crept into her mind and she could feel a hand touch her shoulder. She looked at Reaver with a demure smile and nodded.

"Her left shoulder," she replied in a small voice. Reaver's eyes widened at the thought and he squeezed her shoulder in gentle sympathy relishing the touch and the fact she had not yet whack him.

"That would explain some of her more... unusual habits," he nodded to himself, "Like the way she eats, like every last bite counts. How did you actually meet?"

He was genuinely curious and though Sparrow seemed reluctant to tell him she eventually gave him a loose version leaving out the part about her smashing her previous home to bits. She told him of the scar and possible theories on how the small girl escaped from the slave traders even filling him in on Garth's suspicions. All the while he listened to every waver of her voice sensing the strength it took for her to keep her emotions under control. As he peered out onto the hazy desert he made a realisation, not that he would admit it to himself. Sparrow then sighed knocking back the drink in her hand the harsh vapours caused her to cough and she held out the cup as an indication she wanted more. Reaver was certainly not going to argue as the orangey liquid swished inside her goblet.

"That leaves one other question, well many really, but I will settle for the one," Reaver said as he resealed the stopper and buried the skin in the shaded sand where it was cooler.

"Oh? What's that?"

"Who were her parents?" he asked curiously taking a large sip.

Sparrow nodded a sad smile playing on her lips. Reaver gave her an exasperated and slightly annoyed glance. He knew about her sacrifice, he was there after all, and what he saw he thought was a little sad, if not down right pathetic. Here was one of the strongest women in Albion reduced to a simpering pauper.

He sighed. "Look, having raised her these past five years I think entitles you to the title of mother," he told her in a forceful tone which made her look at him in surprise, "And I think you did a good job."

Sparrow made a wry chuckle shaking her head. "Yeah, I guess, but I wish she had brothers and father."

Reaver was really starting to feel annoyed now, not for the fact she was being so negative, but the fact that her inability to get over her past reminded him strongly of his own haunted past, this annoyed him beyond belief.

"Look here Sparrow," he turned to face her with a fierce scowl, she jumped and turned slightly to look at him properly as he raised a finger to shake in her face, "you made your choice, you have to live with that, all heroes know the risks when they take up that mantle, but just because they are gone does not mean you have to ruin a possible future. You will only end up being haunted for the rest of you life questioning your decisions, well my dear, there is more to life and I am sure your husband, or what ever, would prefer it if you lived your life instead of moping around feeling sorry for yourself. I'm sorry to be truly blunt with you (well not really), but this has to stop. It is not only making you suffer, but I have seen the way Lorna looks at you and she can feel it too. In other words, grow up Sparrow!"

When he finished he gloated at seeing Sparrow's shellshocked expression. It must be quite demeaning having a moral lecture from someone like Reaver. At least he had a chance of surviving if she decided she did not like what he said, but nothing happened, which surprised the pirate as she looked down into her cup. He tilted his head waiting for a response, but she remained quiet.

"Of course, I know what you would possibly say," he said then to break the awkward silence, "however..."

"Your right."

"Sorry?" Reaver could hardly believe the quiet words, did she just say that 'he was RIGHT'?

"Your right, I always thought if I tried to create a new life," she began with deliberately slow, shuddering words, "that if I... I did I would forget. Forget them. I thought that when I killed Lucien that was it, but then, that decision I just could not let all those people suffer for my selfish deeds. Damn it I made too many thus far."

She buried her face in her hand and Reaver leaned forward curiously. "What do you mean?"

"I mean I'm selfish."

"Oh bollocks are you," Reaver snorted waving his hand dismissively, "of all the people I have met your the most disgustingly pure."

Sparrow let loose a hollow laugh. "If only that were so, when you tried to sacrifice me to the Shadow Court I got away with it by sacrificing another women using my revenge as justification for it."

"Hmm, I had wondered about that," Reaver mused, stroking his chin, "however, what are you getting at?"

"I walked a very thin line Reaver," she retorted hotly, "I am sorry to break your... your pre-conceptualised illusion of my purity, but the rumours of my morality are greatly exaggerated."

Reaver sat there for a moment the words sinking in slowly and then he burst out laughing. Sparrow shot him a seething glare the response was less than pleasing.

"Hah! It would seem we are not so different are we dear Sparrow," he smirked leaning a little closer causing the women to tilt back slightly, "That brings me a small measure of comfort."

"We are nothing a like," she retorted weakly not even sure of her own words. Seeing this Reaver pressed the issue.

"Aren't we?" he asked holding up his goblet as a silent toast, "only difference is I live with no regrets. True I still see the haunting faces in my dreams... the screams echoing in the dusty vaults, but I have lived long enough to know that I would only drive my self to the grave and wind up like well you, no offence." He downed the rest of his drink and regarded the sky solemnly.

Sparrow's cheek twitched as her eyes narrowed a small smile curling her lips. "Looks like you still have some humanity left in you Reaver," she said with a small chuckle.

"Hah! Its what got me up in this mess in the first place," he sighed and looked over at Sparrow her body was only inches away and he could feel, even in the heat of the desert, the warmth of her feminine body and it called to him. She regarded him with an expression that creased her brow, almost as if to say she was not quite sure whether to be amused or annoyed. He put down his goblet and then reached up to trace the corner of her lips with his thumb. She jilted gently her eyes widening just enough to give her a bewildered, doe like look and he liked it. Unable to hold back anymore he grasped her cheek gently in hand and pressed his lips to hers in a tender if not surprisingly soft kiss. He could feel Sparrow stiffen against his touch, resisting him, but he boldly continued and before he knew it she had relaxed. She even began to kiss back which excited him more, but as much as his body cried out to connect with her he knew he had to take it slow, or maybe she would want it all, but after their conversation he knew it best not too, so he contented himself with the luck he had at that moment and relished the taste of Sparrow. He then thought, watch out Garth, I am half way there.

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I am impressed with myself the next chapter so soon, am so proud, lawls. I hope you enjoyed and the next chapter will be alone soon. Also thanks to all those that have reviewed thus far I really appreciate it and cookies for all heheh. ^^