When I woke up, I felt like crap. I mean, you'd think I'd be getting used to something hurting by now. Or being stiff or whatever. But this was just a grimy, sluggish, dull feeling. Like the world had shifted and was no longer made of air and earth, but sludge. Sludge that was hard to move in and hard to see through clearly.

It was night time when I came to, with a campfire dancing a few feet away from me, casting weird little shadows from the pebbles on the ground. I was laying on my side, with my face half in the dirt. When I tried to sit up, I found my hands wouldn't do what I told them to and it took me a forever to realize that they were tied behind my back.

That woke me up a lot faster. As I forced myself to blink past the bleh feeling—and happily realized that someone or thing had healed my ankle—I heard voices. They quieted down though as I tried to sit up again, using an elbow as a prop, even though it hurt my other arm, pulling it further behind me. There was a shuffling and then someone grabbed my arm and jerked me up.

It hurt, but I suppose it was faster than what I was trying. Not that I was grateful. When I looked to see who was being so ruff, it was that jerk who'd had the dagger. I'm no weapons or fighting expert, but I'm pretty sure it was poisoned. He poisoned me. I guess telling me my friends and family were dead wasn't enough for this guy.

I glared at him as he returned the sentiment.

"Now that you're awake, you're going to answer my questions." His daggers were at his sides, but I could see that he was keeping one of his hands on one, like I was some super dangerous outlaw who one needed to execute extra caution around.

I would have laughed if I wasn't sort of terrified that he was going to kill me.

"Where's…" My tongue felt like it was swollen or something and it made it harder to speak, which I suppose was good, because I probably would have been in a lot more trouble if I'd called Brath by name. Since, you know, it might look like I was fraternizing with the bad dragons.

My interrogator just frowned, though his gaze slid pointedly to one side and as my muddled brain managed to follow it, I saw a black lump in the night. When I squinted, I could see that ropes bound Brath to the ground and some were wrapped around his nose, keeping his jaws clamped shut. Overall, he looked okay, but then, the light was pretty poor, so I couldn't be sure.

I had to wonder why he didn't just switch to his human form and slip out of his restraints, but maybe the ropes were magical or something. Anyway, he was watching me with a rather pissed off look. No. Not me. My captors.

Our captors.

"I thought you healed her…" I heard a voice say from somewhere nearby.

Even as a different, resentful voice replied that he had and that he didn't know why I still seemed to be under the 'effects', Mr. Asshole—like I said before, I don't like to curse, but this guy…there is no better description—grabbed my chin and forced me to meet his gaze.

"Why did you steal that drake?"

"I didn't steal anything," I said before I could really think.

The jerk's eyebrows shot up. "Oh, really?" I could see he was about to say something about someone saying their dragon was missing or something, but I was not going to let him win. Not this time.

"To steal something means someone else owned it. If something's owned, that makes it a possession. If you're trying to say that a sentient creature was owned by another, that makes them a slave and if you're in the business of helping others keep slaves, you're a slave trader which makes you scum." I paused before adding, "And I don't cooperate with scum."

His jaw dropped and I have to say that I felt pretty darn proud of myself.

He recovered from what I'd said way too fast, though. In a second, his eyes were steely. "You don't cooperate with scum, yet you ride off with a black dragon?"

"Well," I had to try really hard not to call him any names, "it's not like anyone else was offering to help me."

"Help you?" A rather melodious voice asked and my interrogator eased his grip on my jaw as he replied for me, though I was at least able to turn my head a bit to see that it was that red dragon that had attacked Brath. Why do all dragons seem to have nice voices? I wonder if they sing well.

…

I know Brath is the bad guy, but I couldn't bring myself to like this other drake. I don't like people who hurt my friends. Even manipulative, evil friends. That was when I realized that, stupid as it was, I really did consider Brath as someone important to me.

Maybe I am one of those weird clingy people, after all.

Anyway, the guy was quick to try to dismiss what I'd said when he talked to his(?) dragon. "Her village was attacked by the demons and she came looking for help two weeks after the fact."

"Not my village—" I started, but he gave me this harsh look, like he wouldn't mind sinking my body in a river, if it came down to that. Why do I meet all the psychopaths?

This world makes that creep in algebra look like a kitten.

The dragon, however, seemed more interested than his human and trotted around so that I could see him more easily. He was a bit bigger than Brath. I couldn't help but think that, no matter his size, if it had been a fair fight, Brath would have wiped the floor with him.

The dragon was close enough that if my hands were untied, I could have reached out and touched him. He had a gentler look about him than Brath and he leaned forward and sniffed me carefully, as though he'd been wondering about me for a while. "You are not of this world, are you?"

Mr. Jerk's eyes widened and he looked ready to argue, but I spoke before he could. "I'm not." The drake looked me over another moment before nodding.

"You look human enough, so it is easy for those less attuned with magic to assume you are."

"I am human," I protested, even as the jerk's hand fell away from my jaw. It wasn't like he thought I'd bite or anything, he was just watching me with this really confused look. I ignored him. As much as I didn't want to like this dragon, I could feel myself getting hopeful. "My name is Amy Ford and I'm a citizen of the United States of America." I tried to think of what Greg would say. "Three weeks ago, a portal opened in my city and I went through it looking for help in fighting the Burning Legion." I glared toward the jerk. "I know my city is probably gone by now…my whole country probably is." I looked back at the dragon. "But at the rate the demons were going, there should still be half of my world left." The dragon's mouth dipped into a frown and I felt panic knotting my gut. What if they wouldn't help? What if they cared more about a black drake than a world? "There were seven billion people in my world before they came. Even if there's only half of it left, that's still three and a half billion people who could be saved."

There was an eerie silence over the camp. For the first time I glanced toward the other voices and saw that the woman who had tried to heal me was there, as well as Mr. Responsible, the guy who'd asked me questions about the demons even though he hadn't wanted to. There was another human guy, too, but I couldn't remember if I'd seen him in Booty Bay or not. Seeing them was a painful reminder of my ineptitude in trying to recruit people before.

I looked back at the dragon. "My world doesn't have magic, so I don't know how it works, but if I could get here, there's gotta be a way back, right?"

When no one said anything, I felt like bursting into tears. But the fact that that dragon was even listening to me…I suddenly started talking in detail about how I'd gotten there. About the world between worlds, the infrared goggles, Fizz's translation spell, the email my brother had sent me. Everything was disjointed, but in the end, I looked them all over.

"If my brother could live a week after the demons swept through, there's got to be pockets of survivors everywhere. I know we can't get there in time to save everyone, but no one deserves to be written off as some lost cause."

I wanted to scream at them to say something. Anything. Even a rejection. If they turned me down, then I could start bartering that they at least take me to the draenei.

But then… what could I offer them in return? Brath?

I felt grimy even thinking that, though, I supposed if the tables were turned, he wouldn't hesitate to sell me out.

Finally, the guy who I didn't recognize spoke up. He was thinner than the other guys and dressed in a robe. He looked sort of geeky, too—cute geeky—like he was used to staying indoors in dimly lit rooms more than traveling around. He reminded me of Greg and I instantly found myself liking him. "Why didn't you just ask for a portal to the Exodar?"

"A what?"