Amor Vincit Omnia

(Love Conquers All)

Part Two: The Fragile Heart

"A robin redbreast in a cage
Puts all heaven in a rage."
- William Blake

Chapter Five: Like a Bird in a Cage

Saiya's return to consciousness was accompanied by a persistent throbbing headache in her temples. Her mouth was bone dry, her throat ached, and every inch of her skin felt like it had been scoured with sand. She hadn't felt this terrible upon waking since the morning after she and Baal had shared a bottle of honeymead.

The first thing that came to her attention was that she was sitting upright, with her back propped against an unyielding surface that dug painfully into her back. It was dark, but the moon was out, and by its silvery light she could see enough of her surroundings to guess where she was and what had happened after she fainted.

She was inside an iron enclosure that resembled a large birdcage; tall enough for her to stand upright, and wide enough so that she could fully stretch out her legs from sitting. She was neither bound nor chained, but a few experimental shakes of the cage door proved that she would not be able to budge it with strength alone.

No matter, she thought. A quick blast of the bell will tear through these bars like paper. But when she listened for the otherworldly sound, the pulse of silence in her ear was deafening. Increasingly frantic, she tried to chant a few mantras and though the words came easily, they brought no holy power into the world. She was cut off, bereft of her spiritual energy, and even the simplest technique was currently beyond her ability.

Angry and (for the moment) defeated, Saiya sank down to the hard floor of the cage and allowed a quiet sob to escape her lips. She had no doubt that she was in Alcarnus; she had a good view of the town the Coven had occupied from her prison: houses with battered doors and empty windows, streets littered with the corpses of the people who had tried to resist, or who had simply not fled fast enough. Surprisingly, there was not much of a smell. The merciless sun had done its work, mummifying the bodies.

Finding no solace in the bleak and tragic landscape, Saiya's thoughts turned to Baal and the rest of their companions. Apparently they had been left behind at the Outpost when she had foolishly grabbed the warping witch. They would have survived the trap Maghda had set for them – there was no question of that; they must have survived – and they would now be coming to her rescue. Presuming that it was still the same night, she had roughly two full days to endure before she could expect to see them again. She wished more than anything that she had Leena's mirror, so that she might at least see her lover, but her pack was missing, mostly likely taken by the cultists.

"Well," she muttered to herself, taking some small comfort in the sound of a human voice, even if it was her own, "I might as well get some sleep. The more time I spend resting, the sooner this will be over."

Her years of training served her well, for she was able to drop off almost instantly, despite the uncomfortable position. She dreamt of Baal, of his arms around her and his lips covering hers, of his voice pouring confidence into her ear, of his forest-fire eyes that kindled her very soul to a roaring inferno ...

They came at dawn. Maghda glided regally through the carnage, her slippered toes barely brushing the ground. Two cultists followed in her wake, a man and a woman. The first Saiya knew of them was a crushing pain in her chest, as though something was squeezing the air from her lungs. It tore her cruelly from her slumber, and she jolted forward with a gasp. The female cultist lowered her hand, and the agony stopped as suddenly as it had began. Saiya regarded her visitors warily, back pressed against the bars, knees pulled up to her chest.

"I see you're awake, my pet," said the witch. Her voice was a knife coated in honey – all sweetness and sharp edges. "Did you sleep well?"

Saiya held her tongue. She didn't know what her enemy's intention was, but she was sure it was more sinister than a desire to taunt her.

"Not very talkative, I see. Well, that can be remedied." Maghda leaned in until the tip of her nose touched the metal of the cage. For the first time, Saiya looked directly into her eyes. They were a crystalline grey that looked almost like fractured stone, frighteningly cold and lifeless. Behind those eyes Saiya could see traces of a soul just as broken and withered, sucked dry by years of giving love and devotion to a being that could return neither. The young monk felt an unexpected pity, which was gone the instant Maghda opened her purple-painted lips.

"You will tell me everything I want to know," she said. "I don't think I need to describe what your punishment will be for failing to answer my questions. Suffice it to say that you will talk … or you will die. Eventually, and in great pain. The choice is yours. Now, my first question is: how many of you came to Caldeum from New Tristram?"

Saiya clenched her teeth together and narrowed her eyes into a hard stare. She could have lied, could have said, "Just the four of us that you saw in Khasim. No one else." But she wouldn't give Maghda the satisfaction of thinking she had won.

She knew what was coming and still it stole her breath away: the sudden sharp burn of mage-fire against her skin, searing, consuming, setting her nerves aflame. She tried to dive into a state of calm where the torment could not touch her, but her severed connection to the spiritual realm would not allow it. A scream ripped itself free, scratching her throat on the way out.

And then it was over, and a curious numbness was seeping into her flesh. She concentrated on her breathing, loud and ragged on the torpid morning air. I'm still alive …

"I'll ask again, little pet," Maghda spat, flecking Saiya's face with spittle. "Where are the others? The wizard and the sangoma, and Adria's girl? Did they stay in Khanduras, or are they lurking around somewhere, hiding like rats in a sewer?"

This time the spell was frigid, turning the marrow in her bones to ice. Saiya shivered uncontrollably, jaws aching as her teeth clashed together, fingers growing stiff and blue. She could barely remember what warmth was. Too cold to cry out, she was turning into a frozen statue – would Baal find her beautiful like this, glittering like a diamond in the sunlight? – she would be preserved for all eternity, for magical ice never melts –

"Enough," said Maghda curtly, and the spell broke. The witch's hairless brows were lowered in a scowl, her puckered lips almost petulant. She sneered, "What makes you cling to your silence so, girl? Is it loyalty to that ragtag group of misfits you call friends? Who among them is worth your life?"

Saiya blinked drops of melting frost from her eyelashes and locked stares with her nemesis. "Every single one," she ground out.

A malicious smile grew on Maghda's waxy visage. "Especially the black-haired boy who plays at being a demon hunter, am I correct?" she murmured. "Yes, I can see it in your gaze when you look at me. It's written all over your face. You think yourself in love. How trite. And you imagine that he will come to save you, yes? A gallant knight in a black cloak riding in upon his stallion to free the maiden from captivity." The witch burst into a mocking laugh.

"It will be such fun to kill him," she crowed, "and you're going to help me, my pet, by telling me everything you know about his fighting style, the weapons he uses, the tricks he has up his sleeve … everything."

Saiya lost track of how long Maghda interrogated her, but the cultists inflicted a minute of suffering for every lack of response to a question, and there were hundreds. Their methods varied – they tried lightning spells, spectral blades, globes of water that surrounded her head and clung there until she thought she would drown, even a beam of red light that passed through her body without physically affecting it, but that caused the worst pain she had ever experienced.

Once, she felt an upsurge of spiritual power returning to her body, and the bliss of it was nearly enough to drive away the anguish, but Maghda saw relief in her eyes and placed one of her butterflies close to the bars; the shimmering insect jabbed its stinger into Saiya's shoulder, and the silver energy ebbed away again before it was ever truly in reach. That was the moment when she truly gave up, hanging her head and tasting the blood that dripped into her mouth from a cut on her cheek. They continued to torture her after that, but she hardly felt it. Though her body flinched and her mouth gave vent to screams and moans, her mind was removed and distant. When it was done, they went away unsatisfied and left her huddled in the cage like a bird with broken wings.

The day crawled by in hour-long seconds. By noon the sun had heated the metal bars to the point where they seared her skin. Saiya removed her billowy tunic, split it at the seams, and tied it overhead to make a sort of awning. The shade that it cast was flimsy, but even the slightest protection from the unbearable gaze of the sun was worthwhile.

She passed the time by imagining what she would do to Maghda once she got free. Simply killing her wouldn't be enough to quench the raging need for vengeance that burned in the pit of her stomach. She wanted to annihilate the witch, grind her face into the dust until there was nothing left, strip her of all her pride and arrogance and leave her a hollow shell which could then be shattered. These bitterly pleasant imaginings got her through the hunger and thirst and boredom and the dull, echoing throb of her wounds.

That evening, the cultists came and stood around her prison, jeering at her in both Khanduran and Kehjistani. Saiya paid them no mind, even when they spat through the bars and taunted her with food and water, which they dumped on the ground because she would not beg for it. They eventually dissipated after she closed her eyes and pretended to sleep. Once they had gone, she stretched her arm out as far as it would go and managed to retrieve a roll of bread that was more or less untarnished. Removing the part that had been stepped on, she ate it, though the lack of saliva in her mouth made it difficult to swallow. She almost choked on one of the larger bites and giggled aloud, imagining how stupid it would be, after all that she had survived thus far, to be done in by a piece of baked dough pilfered from one of her enemies.

It was a long night. Slumber, snatched in brief but precious increments, was shallow and dominated always by pain and discomfort. When the sky began to pale and she caught sight of Maghda's distinctive form drifting down the staircase from the tower, she groaned aloud, debating how long she could hold out before she cracked under the pressure, or lost her mind entirely. The one thing keeping her going was the knowledge that Baal was now no more than a day's travel away; less if he had been pushing himself, which would not surprise her in the least.

Maghda, evidently realizing that magical methods was getting zero results, had brought along a robed man carrying a case. He opened it to reveal an impressive set of torture instruments. Saiya made a game of guessing how each one was used (her favorite being a pair of tongs with exceptionally fine serrated blades, which she decided were for forcibly plucking nose hairs) and found that such levity actually eased her sense of dread. She barked out a dry laugh when the man removed the Nose-Hair-Plucker, and then morbidly wondered if she had not already gone insane, and just hadn't noticed yet.

The witch fixed Saiya with a flinty glare and said, "You must be very tired, my dear, not to mention in a terrible amount of pain. Do make it easy on yourself. Tell me what I want to know, and I'll have you released. You'll be fed and your wounds will be treated."

"There's no point in making promises I know you won't keep," Saiya shot back. "I'm not going to talk. Just get it over with, please, so I can go back to sleep."

"Brave words," said the witch, nodding to her accomplice. He held up two pairs of shackles, as well as the key to Saiya's cage. Stepping forward he unlocked the door and grabbed her by the ankle.

She was ready for him, slamming her free foot into his face with all her strength – which at the moment, was not all that impressive. It was enough to send him stumbling back with his hands cupped to his face, however, and Saiya did not waste her chance. Diving through the opening, she rolled fluidly and came up running. She didn't know which way was out, so she chose one of the available paths at random, sprinting as if all the demons of hell were hot on her heels.

A wall sprang up before her. She swerved left, careening headlong down a flight of stairs, and nearly tripped over a corpse sprawled in the street. Regaining her balance, she kept running, heartbeat hammering in her ears and each breath slicing her lungs like a knife.

And then she turned a corner and the main gate was there ahead of her, tantalizingly open. She could see the desert beyond, golden-brown and glistening with heat waves. Desperation spurred her forward, increasing her already impressive speed.

She was no more than five steps from freedom when a thick buzzing clogged her ears and the air stiffened as a swarm of butterflies closed in around her. Saiya knew at once that it was Maghda, in the same form she had taken before in the Butchers arena, that had allowed Baal's arrows to pass through her without causing harm.

"Keep running, my pet," the woman's voice crooned in her ear. "You're so close now. Just a little further …"

The cruel taunts triggered something in Saiya's chest – a wellspring of fiery rage, boiling over like water heated in a cauldron. Later, when she had a chance to think about it, she would realize that in that moment, she had made a decision: I will escape, or I will die trying. At the time, however, all that she was conscious of was reaching for the bell.

It answered.

The resulting peal was so intense that it dented the earth, forming a crater about three feet deep. Maghda's butterfly cloud was scattered by the blast, and Saiya could feel the witch's scream reverberating in her bones. She doubted that she had managed to kill her opponent, but oh, she hoped to all the gods that she had.

No one tried to hinder her as she sped through the doorway and out onto open ground, but even so it was a long while before she felt safe enough to slacken her pace. Eventually she collapsed in the lee of a boulder and lay flat on her back, ribs heaving as she sucked in eager gasps of air. Alcarnus was a dark smudge on the horizon line, and she could see no pursuers.

The true severity of her situation hit her then, as she stared out across the endless desert before her. She was utterly alone, with no food or water, no compass … not even a shirt. The task of locating her friends suddenly seemed as impossible as trying to find a specific blade of grass in a meadow. They could be anywhere; suppose they had chosen not to take the road, or hole up during the day and move only by cover of night? Saiya groaned when she realized that her chances of survival were actually higher back in the cage.

But, having successfully escaped, she was hardly going to return on her hands and knees and submit to captivity and torture. So she wrapped her hijab around her shoulders like an old woman's shawl and stepped out onto the sand. Setting a steady pace to conserve her what energy she had remaining, she found herself humming the first song that came to her mind:

"Edelweiss, Edelweiss

Every morning, you greet me

Small and white, clean and bright

You look happy to meet me

Blossom of snow may you bloom and grow

Bloom and grow forever

Edelweiss, Edelweiss

Bless my homeland forever."

The sweet and simple melody nearly brought her to her knees, so strongly did it recall the happy days of her childhood, and the temple home she had forsaken. The final note wavered as tears stung her eyes, and her throat ached. But the young monk pressed her lips together resolutely and continued on, though she did change tunes to something less evocative.

"Are you going to Scarborough Fair?

Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme

Remember me to one who lives there

For he was once a true love of mine."

This made her think of Baal, and ponder over their seemingly accidental meeting. Was it truly fate, as Caesar had suggested? Or did they simply blunder into each other's paths, for better or for worse. Saiya could never be sorry that she had met him, even if she was now trudging through a barren wasteland as a direct result. She wondered abruptly how he was coping with her disappearance. Probably not well at all, if she knew the man. She hoped that he wasn't too worried, although the face he made when he was concerned for her did strange things to her heart and stomach both.

Speaking of my stomach, Saiya reflected ruefully, I don't think I've ever been this hungry in my entire life. She had always had a healthy appetite, and her body tended to burn through weight very quickly if it was not properly fuelled; she had now been a full day and two nights without anything more than a half-loaf of dry bread – though perhaps the lack of water should have been more concerning. The head monk had told her once that a human being could survive for more than twenty-one days without eating, but only three days without anything to drink. Already, she could feel some of the early symptoms of dehydration setting in. Her head was pounding, her vision was a little hazy, and her mouth was so dry that her tongue had gotten stuck to the roof of it more than once. Unless she found some water soon, she might very well become too weakened to even move.

An hour or so later, as she was making her way down the side of a massive sand dune, something in the distance caught her eye. It looked like the glint of sunlight on a pool, and she could almost swear she saw rippling blue waves and verdant plants. She broke into a run, casting off the mantle of her exhaustion, slithering partway on her side in her in her haste to reach the life-saving liquid. But to her baffled disappointment, the glorious reservoir turned out to be nothing more than a parched hollow, and the flashes of green a few lonely shrubs.

Saiya fell to her knees, burying her fingers despondently in the loose sand. "Am I seeing things now?" she groaned. "Oh gods, Baal, where are you? I need you. I can't go on like this …"

The world tilted, and before she recognized what was happening she had collapsed onto her side, forehead pressed to the ground and legs curled underneath her. Blearily, she gazed up at the azure sky.

"Is it all right if I rest here, Baal?" she whispered. "Just for a minute. Just until I can get my strength back. I'm gonna find you, I am, I just need to rest …"

Strange clouds were gathering overhead: tiny red clouds that moved in a circular pattern at a steady speed. Then one of them emitted a raucous cry and Saiya realized that they were not clouds at all, but a flock of birds. Raptors, to be exact – and they were currently biding their time, waiting for her to expire so they could land and feed on her fresh carcass.

The young monk was too weary to feel afraid, though she was a bit sad that she would never get to say farewell to her Hunter. She contemplated writing him a note to tell him how grateful she was for his presence in her life, but her paper and quill were in her pack, which had been confiscated by the cultists. There were, however, a number of pebbles scattered around, and she decided to arrange some of them into a simple message.

The last words she would ever say.

I love you, Baal.

She had gotten halfway through the second 'o' when one of the more adventurous raptors evidently came to the conclusion that he had waited too long for his meal. He dropped like an arrow from heaven, talons outstretched and beak opened wide in a fearsome scream that had frozen many a rodent it its tracks. Saiya shut her eyes tight and covered her face with her hands.

But the pain she'd expected never came. A second screech mingled with the first, and the sound of violently beating wings. When Saiya cautiously cracked an eyelid, she saw two winged forms locked together, one blood-colored and the other as dark as the night. They clawed and snapped at one another with talons and beaks, and then the hawk tore free in an explosion of crimson feathers and fled. His brethren hung back, wary of the newcomer but unwilling to desert such a excellent chance of a free banquet.

The black bird furled its wings and landed, a little awkwardly. As it strutted over to her, a joyous smile spread on Saiya's face, cracking her dry lips.

"Gawahir!" she exclaimed. "Is it really you?"

"Saiya," croaked the raven, expressing disapproval very accurately for a creature who could only mimic human speech. "Little Bo Peep has lost her sheep. Saiya."

"Not lost anymore," she muttered. "Gawahir, where's Baal? Is he nearby?"

Gawahir marched back and forth with his breast puffed out. "Lost her sheep," he repeated, "and doesn't know where to find them." If Saiya hadn't known better, she would have said he was mocking her.

"Go find Baal," she said. "Tell him I need help. And hurry!"

The raven hunched his shoulders, fixed her with a beady glare, and took flight. As soon as he was out of sight, the remaining hawks began to soar closer. Saiya chucked a stone at one and missed.

"Please don't take long, guys," she mumbled.

The minutes passed by in silence broken only by the occasional scream from the hawks. A lizard ran over her bare stomach, mistaking her as part of the environment. There were colors everywhere, red and purple and green and gold all churning together and spilling out across the sky. How had she never noticed how beautiful the desert was before? Her vision danced and her ears sang; every grain of sand was alive, and yet she was removed from it all, isolated and alone. The earth was rocking beneath her back, and she was sinking into it, falling down - down - into the smothering darkness. Her throat burned. Her skin was on fire. Why did everything hurt so much?

"Saiya," the wind whispered in her ear, faint and ephemeral. "Wake up. Please."

"I'm awake," she said. "Leave me alone. I'm waiting for someone."

"You have to wake up!"

Cool dampness on her face, rough and thorny fingers that stroked her forehead with all the tenderness of a mother touching her infant. Saiya whimpered.

"WAKE UP!"

Her eyes snapped open. She was lying on a thin pallet in a dimly lit room, and a Kehjistani woman squatted beside her, sponging her face with a wet cloth.

"Where am I?" Saiya gasped, her head spinning with disorientation.

"Relax," said the woman, in easy Khanduran. "You're in the Khasim Outpost. I'm Asiya, healer to the First Battalion of the Iron Wolves. Your name is Saiya, right?"

"Yeah, that's … wait, who told you that?"

"Relax," the woman repeated insistently. "You're among friends. We know about your little secret, okay? And don't worry, the names that go in the report with be Kala, Alem, whatever. We're on your side."

Was it all a dream? she thought hazily. Warping with Maghda, the cage, being tortured by the cultists, escaping, the hawks … did I imagine all of that?

"Where's … Baal?" she groaned. "I want to see him."

"Your friends left for Alcarnus yesterday morning," replied Asiya. "Actually, they left several days before that, but they brought you back because you were badly injured. It's been touch and go for a while, and I wasn't sure you'd survive, but you pulled through all right. You're pretty tough."

"They left without me?" Saiya cried, struggling to sit up. "I have to go after them!"

"Oh no, you don't," said Asiya, and she placed a hand on Saiya's chest and pushed her effortlessly back. The young monk wasn't sure if her ordeal had weakened her or if the other woman was just exceptionally strong, but her attempt at resistance got her nowhere.

"They warned me about you," Asiya continued. "What a terrible patient you are, and so on. Be warned that I won't tolerate any stupidity on your part. As long as you behave, I'll be nice to you, but the moment you disobey my orders as your healer, you'll wish that the Coven still had you in their grip. Is that clear?"

"Yes," said Saiya, who had by no means resigned herself to another form of captivity. She was determined that as soon as Asiya's back was turned, she'd be gone. It was maddening to think that Baal had just abandoned her here and run off to confront Maghda. If he got himself killed, she would never forgive him.

"Well, I bet you've got some questions, considering that you've been dead to the world for a couple days. Almost literally." The Iron Wolf grinned, and Saiya focused on her for the first time. She was of medium height, and her petite build belied her wiry strength. Her face was rather plain at first glance: dark skin chapped by the sun, brown eyes set under thick black brows, a strong nose and decisive chin. Her lips were her single attractive feature – plump and perfectly sized, a natural shade of dark cherry red that many women had tried and failed to recreate with paints.

"I'll just spare you the trouble of asking and summarize," she continued. "It's been four days since the Outpost was liberated by your group (for which we are eternally thankful, yada yada). After you did your vanishing act, your pals had a big argument about whether they should leave immediately or wait until morning. Eventually they decided to wait. Okay, I'll admit that was mostly my doing. Some of them were wounded, and I don't like it when wounded people walk around like morons until they die of blood loss. So I made them stay. To be perfectly honest, I may have locked one of them up in the cages for the night."

"I'm going to guess it was Baal," Saiya said.

"How right you are!" Asiya exclaimed, smiling again. Saiya felt a reluctant liking for the healer begin to flower in her chest. She was still furious about the forced bed rest, however temporary, but she couldn't help admiring anyone with the guts to defy Baal when he was in a temper.

"He must have been in a good mood when you let him out the next morning," she remarked.

"Oh, like you wouldn't believe. I seriously thought he was going to murder me! Anyway, they left, but then two days later, what do you know, they're back! Baal and the Templar, that is – what's his name, Kormun? – and they've got you with them, all beat to hell. They drop you off here, spend the night because apparently they'd walked nonstop since they found you, and then up and away again the next morning. That was yesterday. And I've been working without a break this whole time to save your ass, so a little 'thank you' wouldn't go amiss."

"Thank you," Saiya said politely. Now that her initial panic upon waking had ebbed, she noticed that she did, in fact, feel substantially better than she had during her last conscious moments. She was still hungry and thirsty, but not devastatingly so. The ache in her head had subsided, though the skin on her upper body felt raw and scratchy from her prolonged exposure to the sun.

Asiya shrugged and said, "It's my job." Her gruffness reminded Saiya of Brother Malachi, and she took a moment to wonder if all healers had such abrasive personalities. And if so, was it because brusque people naturally gravitated towards the healing arts, or because practicing the art of healing made people short-tempered?

"Then you've done your job well," she said, and was rewarded with another blinding grin from the Iron Wolf.

"I try," she said. "You didn't make it easy for me, though. I hate healers who say this, but your survival was nothing short of a miracle. Really. Besides the dehydration – which came this close to killing you, by the way – you were also starving to death, suffering from heatstroke and exhaustion, and had a dangerously high fever as a result of an infected wound in your neck."

Saiya frowned. She didn't remember getting any physical injuries from the cultists. Something that had happened during her escape, perhaps? She reached up to touch her throat with ginger fingertips, and found it swathed in bandages.

"If you're curious," Asiya said helpfully, "it was caused by this." She held up a tiny object pinched between her fingertips: a black arrowhead.

"That … looks like Baal's," she muttered. "But how …?"

Then it came to her. Of course! The new elemental arrows that he had tested during the fight with Maghda! When they had detonated, a wayward piece of shrapnel must have hit her. She was shocked that she hadn't noticed it before. Then again, it hadn't bled much, and her mind had been occupied with other matters.

A sudden thought occurred to her, and she looked sharply up at Asiya. "Does Baal know?" she asked.

"About what?" the other woman asked blankly.

"The arrowhead."

"Well, yeah. He was there when I removed it."

"Shit," Saiya exclaimed vehemently. Baal had a tendency to blame himself for things that he was not remotely responsible for; how would he react when it was something that he had caused, albeit accidentally? Her guess was, not very well. She desperately hoped that he wouldn't do something idiotic, like try to avoid her or end their relationship because he was a 'danger' to her.

"Are you feeling all right?" Asiya asked, shifting instantly into professional healer mode. She laid a firm hand on Saiya's forehead, peered into her eyes, and checked her pulse.

"I'm fine," the young monk assured her automatically. "Listen, how long before I can be on my way? My friends are going to need my help."

The Iron Wolf shook her head. "Just give up on that idea, girl. You need at least one more day of complete rest, probably more. By that time, your pals will be on their way back. If they're still alive, that is." When Saiya glared at her, she said, "Sorry, but I don't believe it's kind to offer false comfort. The fact is, they're in danger. They might come back, or they might not. I've lost too many comrades in this line of work to take anyone's safety for granted. But hey, you know what is a sure thing?"

"What?" Saiya growled.

"Sunrise. No matter how bad the night is, that big yellow ball is going to roll around again sometime. Life goes on, there's no use fretting. Want a bath?"

A long soak and lots of soap, coupled with a nutritious meal and approximately two full buckets of water, worked wonders for Saiya's temperament. Asiya stayed in sight the whole time, as if she suspected that her patient would run away the moment she turned her back (which was actually not far from the truth), but by the end of the day, the two women were fast friends. This began when they discovered that their names contained the same letters in slightly different order, but soon they were talking as naturally as if they had known each other all their lives. Saiya learned that the healer was niece to the Iron Wolves' Commander, Asheara, and that her aunt had raised her from early childhood, after the death of her mother, Asheara's sister. Her father was another Wolf who had died in combat five years before. She had been drawn to healing at a young age ("How could I avoid it, with a name like mine?" she'd laughed. "It means 'one who tends to the sick'!"), though her aunt had scrupulously ensured that she had enough training as a warrior to defend herself in combat.

In turn, Saiya told her of growing up in the temple, and of her training as a monk. Asiya was especially curious about recent events in Khanduras, so with a bit of prodding, Saiya divulged the entire story, from arriving at New Tristram to the moment they stepped off the ship in Gea Kul – though she soon learned to stick to dry facts and leave out her personal feelings for Baal, as her new friend was far more interested in politics than romance, and bluntly said so.

Another benefit of getting to know Asiya was the Iron Wolf battle robes that she willingly provided. The two women were roughly the same height and weight, and Asiya insisted that Saiya needed something 'practical' to wear. The armor was perfect: a thin chest plate under a tawny garment, augmented by chainmail, that reached past her knees, but was split up the sides to facilitate horse-riding and easy movement in combat. There were also durable iron-toed boots, bracers and pauldrons for her arms and shoulders, and a rounded helmet with a fitted nose guard, a spike mounted on the top, and a piece of fabric sewn onto the back to protect her neck from the sun. Wearing the full set for the first time, Saiya was inspired to do a few light warm-ups in the Outpost courtyard: a performance that was roundly applauded by the observing soldiers and Asiya.

Laying on her pallet that night, she counted the days that had passed since she had last seen Baal. Five in total, the longest they had been separated since they met. She wondered if he missed her as badly as she missed him, and spent a few pleasant minutes imagining their reunion. They would simply stare at each other for a moment, not quite believing it was real, and then he would sweep her up in his arms and kiss her-

The image roused a longing in her heart, and an aching, insistent throb in other, more sensitive places. As if acting on their own initiative, her fingers crept down the smooth expanse of her stomach and parted the hair that sprouted between her legs, searching for the little bud that lay there. Her ministrations were clumsy compared to the way Baal had touched her, but with that memory fresh in her mind, it didn't take long to find her release. She couldn't prevent a soft groan from escaping her lips, and was heartily glad that she had the room to herself, Asiya having retreated to her own quarters after the young monk promised not to leave without permission.

Thinking of her lover, she drifted off to sleep. But her dreams were plagued by the same horrifying vision that had driven her to follow Baal to Anthem. Her companions, her friends: all dead, slaughtered by Maghda. She woke in the early hours of the morning covered in sweat, mouth open in a silent scream and fingers outstretched for Baal's lifeless face.

A lengthy meditation followed by as rigorous a workout as the healer would permit helped clear her mind, but the nightmare lurked in dark corners all through the day, while Saiya tried to amuse herself with conversations and card games. She won a bit of money from the guards, picked up a few odd phrases in Kehjistani, and befriended the half-wild dog that hung around the fort, scrounging for scraps from the kitchens.

The Iron Wolves treated her kindly and she wanted for nothing, but her inner misery increased by the hour. When another full day had passed by with no sign from the rest of her group, Saiya decided that she could wait no longer. With Asiya's grudging agreement that she was healed enough to travel, if not to fight, she struck out for Alcarnus. Captain Davyd, a pleasant, jovial man with beads braided into his hair and goatee, insisted on sending an honor guard of five men to accompany her.

It was midday when Raffi, who had been scouting the road ahead with his telescope, suddenly cried out, "I see them, xanim! About half an hour away and moving fast."

Saiya's heart gave a great leap, but she did her best to contain the tremble in her voice when she said, "Alright. You guys can head back to the Outpost now; I think I'll be fine on my own from here on out. Tesekkür edirik. Xosbextlik ile getmek."

"And to you, xanim," replied Raffi, with a smile, "though you might want to work on your pronunciation before trying to pass yourself off as a native of this land."

The Wolves, their duty fulfilled, returned the way they had come, while Saiya pressed on ahead with a light spirit and a spring in her step. Her ordeal in Alcarnus seemed a dark and distant memory now, and soon it would fade altogether, for some intuition told her that Maghda was dead. Their mission was accomplished at last.

Her eyes were constantly scanning the horizon, and the moment her friends came into sight she broke into a run. It wasn't until she was nearly within hailing distance that she realized something was dreadfully wrong. Kormac was there, limping a little and leaning on his spear. Eirena and Najmah walked just behind him. There was a definite difference in the giant's demeanor, but Saiya did not pause to think about it, because there was one person whose absence was more noticeable to her than the sun in the sky.

She skidded to a halt in front of them, panting, and met Kormac's eyes. The dread she saw there sparked a crushing sense of terror in her breast.

"Where's Baal?" she demanded.

Thanks so, SO much to everyone who has reviewed this story so far (and to everyone who will hopefully review in the future...) I can't say it enough, your support makes this story worth writing! Special thanks to Pandemoniuem for your suggestion - I tweaked it a little bit, hope you don't mind. Also, in case anyone is disappointed that the fight with Maghda was left out, never fear! I have included the fight, it'll feature in the next chapter.

This chapter in particular was fun to write; I'd love to know what everyone thinks!

'Til next time!

- Dr. Kitten

* Saiya said: "Thank you. Good fortune go with you."