Author's Note: Excellent critique, Milarionfan! :) Milarionfan reviewed about hating chapter 1 and almost giving up on reading more because of it. This intrigued me because I was attempting to show how lonely Clarion is and give some short background about why she became hard. However, it sounds like maybe I missed the mark or made the chapter too short. I don't want readers to give up right away! I have decided to throw out a poll to see if I should try modifying chapter 1. Hmmm...I'm wondering if maybe Milarionfan hit the nail on the head why reader numbers have leveled off. I'll leave the poll up for awhile and see what the majority vote is. (I think the poll posts on my profile page. Please only vote once.)

I'm thinking of not changing the summary because it would give away some of the surprises that everyone said they didn't see coming. Thoughts, oh-wise-ones-who-have-experience ? :)

It had been nearly three days since she'd seen him. She approached the cell with her guards, Milori's back to them. Again, he sat in the snow, leaning against the bars. One leg was tucked up under him to keep himself sitting up and the other was stretched out. His skin was a grayish hue and his wings hung limply in their bonds. His clothes fit, so she knew he was still being fed enough.

She had just come from checking on Sled, who was tolerating being without talents fairly well. Although, he did have far fewer than Milori, therefore, less pixie dust had been drained from him.

Milori was unable to stand when she arrived, but his eyes looked up. Those beautiful blue orbs, she noticed with shock, were now a washed-out gray. She waved the guards away and then knelt beside him. "Who is this traitor?" she asked.

He ran his tongue over his parched lips. "I think Bernard," he said weakly in a raspy voice, with heavy eyelids.

Her eyes narrowed.

"Gliss has been watching him closely. He did the interrogations. He searched our homes. I vow I have no matches-he planted one there. Sled and I had started to suspect him, so we were working on a plan in the North Woods while I was recovering. I planted Gliss as the messenger between us because she's observant, so I wanted her close to the border-close to you. Sled and I didn't want Bernard to suspect we knew, so we kept even Gliss out of it until the last minute. We wanted you to start getting suspicious of us, but you were too quick-we didn't think you'd start suspecting us for another week. I told Gliss that if you started pressing too hard or if she started seeing danger to go to blow the whistle on us. She is your witness, Clarion, because I told her to be. If you don't believe me, go ask her. Ask Sled. Don't tell them I told you. I promise you will get the same story. If we're in here, Bernard will get sloppy thinking he got away with it. You have to be careful." He breathed hard and started to slouch from the exhaustion of so much effort.

"Sled admitted to it, Milori," she said softly.

He gave a weak shake of his head, his brow damp. "He isn't supposed to admit-Bernard will know we're lying." He drew a deep breath, making his chest rattle.

"You confessed to me."

He looked her in the eye. "I said I could not lie to you. I couldn't deny the charges and have fairies fear you exiled innocents, but neither could I admit because Bernard wouldn't think he got away with it. My answer neither condemned nor redeemed me."

She closed her eyes for a moment. He was right. She had twisted his answer into what she had thought he meant. "I have Gliss, who stands nothing to gain, testifying against her own lord. I have evidence against you. I can't go around arresting fairies because you say they're involved. You have no proof besides suspicion anyways. Am I to believe that you aren't just saving your neck?"

His gaze fell, having no counter argument for that.

"What made you suspicious?" she asked with an exasperated sigh.

His eyes searched hers. "He is a loner and power hungry whenever you give him a task. Do you think he didn't enjoy the interrogations? Being the one to guard Sled and I at night? He does not stay, Clarion."

She blinked. "What are you talking about? Guards must stay all night with owls to keep away the wild cats."

He looked her in the eye. "It is good Gliss built these cages strong," he said quietly.

She didn't know if it was true. Surely it couldn't be, for a large cat could easily crush the cells with one swipe. Her eyes roamed over him, and then she reached through the bars and set a hand on his side. He did not appear to be starving.

"He's smart enough to not leave evidence," he said quietly.

"I have no one whom I can trust," she whispered.

Milori held her eyes. "You can trust yourself."

Closing her eyes, she released a deep breath to clear her head. Then she looked at him. "Come," she said softly.

He leaned forward and looked uncertain when she cupped the back of his head. Her lips touched his, and she gently blew more life into him.

He breathed in deeply as she blew pixie dust into his lungs. And she realized how terribly ill he was-breathing in pixie dust was not pleasant and he took it as readily as air. He cupped the back of her head for a split second to hold her there-obviously fighting his instinct to gasp in gulps of dust-and dropped his hand into his lap, taking only what she offered.

She pulled back. His skin and eyes were still gray, but his lips were not as dry.

Even though he was still too weak to stand, he said softly, "Thank you."

Studying him, she gently touched his wing to see how much it would glow. It didn't, and she realized he had so little pixie dust in his body that he would've been dead by nightfall. He was still dangerously low. She gently took his face in her hands. "Take what you need," she whispered and blew a deep breath into him.

He grabbed her sleeve the second their lips touched, desperate for life. Wheezing from the dust scratching his lungs as it absorbed into his body, he held onto her arm. Clearly, he was so close to death that his body wanted to panic and suck air from her, which he could have easily done. Instead, he sipped only what she offered and fought down the panic. Their lips remained locked for nearly a minute as he breathed in when she would breathe out.

A tear fell down her cheek. If he was being truthful, he was ready to die for her in one of the most painful ways a fairy could.

She blew another breath into him, and he went into a coughing fit this time. His body had enough to react to the pain. When she pulled away, he let go, although she knew his instincts were screaming to not do so-he knew as well as her that it would be just hours before he was near death again. "Not so much that it's obvious I'm giving it to you," she whispered, leaning down to meet his eyes when the coughing eased.

He nodded in understanding and gulped in mouthfuls of air to calm his lungs. "Does it hurt you?" He looked at her in concern.

Her heartstrings pulled. "No," she said softly and held his eyes. "It neither hurts nor drains me." Then she got up and quietly left him.