The taste of the fanfic is slowly changing. The upcoming chapters will gradually become more serious, with intermittent comedy relief, but I'm afraid you'll be in store for a lot of angst all around!

This chapter was altered slightly due to a good point brought up by new reviewer cyberimp6. Thanks, cyberimp6! You are the bomb.

As to some of the reviews I got, thanks so much! About Valgaav's omniscient clairvoyance: not even the characters understand why he has that, so I'm afraid I can't just give it away to you guys if I'm not even telling Xellos and Filia! And finally . . .

"Hey . . . how 'bout those reviews? They sure are swell . . ." (runs and hides in closet from sheer embarrassment.)

Ukchana


Chapter 13

Wolfpack Island
June 5th, 2002

"Ahhhhh!" Shurk.

Valgaav slowly pulled himself from the straw matted floor and looked around.

Candles lit the dim room, and he could see other glowing orbs through the paper walls of the chamber. Dusting himself off, he realized he was wearing a black and russet robe with a wide swath of fabric tight across his abdomen.

"You look good in a kimono," a sultry voice came from behind him, and he turned to see a sable-haired woman in her own kimono, pale skin a matte ivory in the warm candle-light.

Frowning, Valgaav's head twitched as he stepped closer, bare feet crackling lightly on the tatami. "Zelas?"

She blinked dark, cat-slitted eyes and smiled. "Your mind gives us appropriate clothing . . . it seems it also alters a few other things. You shouldn't be too surprised, however; I'm often a brunette, just not lately."

He looked around the room, confused. "Where . . . Oh, why should I ask."

The Mazoku brushed past him, and Val could hear voices now. "We seem to be in Japan, as you no doubt have guessed. And here must be where one fragment fell into hands that changed history. . ."

Following her, Valgaav found himself in a throne room of sorts, smaller than those in Europa. A middle-aged Japanese man sat in a large gilded chair, his graying hair pulled up into a severe top-knot. He wore an expansive, gold-embroidered kimono and many rings, and a sheathed katana at his side, the sheath and hilt lacquered and lined with gold.

Two men knelt on the floor facing him, bowed so low that their faces touched the ground, and another man sat on the ground next to the throne. Valgaav assumed this man was the advisor.

"Daimyou-sama, Fujimiya ni goshoukai shimasu," the man beside the throne spoke loudly.

Daimyo? One of the samurai lords of feudal Japan. What could the stone have done here?

The Daimyo's eyes narrowed and he straightened even more in the chair. "Sa, hontou desu ka?"

Zelas whispered in Val's ear. "Rude, isn't he?"

"Where's the stone?"

"Shitsurei shimasu," on of the men on the floor said from his bowed position. "Kore wa okurimono, Daimyou-sama." He then held out his arms before him, and in his hands sat a ball of cloth tied tightly with lace.

"What do you think he's receiving?" Zelas replied to Valgaav with a chuckle. "This Daimyo's name should be familiar to you."

"Why? Who is he?"

She winked and put her hands on her hips. "Tokegawa Ieyasu."

Inhaling suddenly, Val looked back to the man on the throne. "The Daimyo raised to Shogun of Japan in 1603." It was the most monumental moment of the feudal era of Japan.

"But he's not the Shogun yet," she pointed out as the Daimyo took the gift and unwrapped it.

"Kore wa nandesu ka? Iwa desu ka?" He frowned and chuckled nastily, showing the stone fragment, set into a base, to his assistant.

"Hai, sore wa koun mayoke, Daimyou-sama," the man on the floor groveled.

"It certainly is lucky," Zelas muttered. "Come, Valgaav. We have to go."

"How do we keep doing this?" Val asked as they turned away.

"Don't ask me, it's your brain," she replied.

Valgaav closed his eyes again, and he began to float away. Here we go again.

(-(-o-)-)

By the time Xellos had finished massaging Filia's back and legs, she was deeply asleep. Leaning back on his heels from his crouched position, the purple-haired Mazoku kept himself from sighing. Massaging Filia is very boring with my emotions shut down. But it's probably better this way; it's unfair to Filia for me to have these feelings for her.

As he took her shoulders and gently shook her, another part of him retorted, But you're a demon. Lust is the most normal emotion for a demon; all selfish emotions are. You shouldn't be expected to not feel it.

I'm not normal for a demon, he replied, and smiled slightly as Filia groaned and shifted. I care about Filia, so I won't use her.

"What . . ." Filia mumbled as he laid a white towel across her back.

Good excuse; however, you know that Filia feels just as much desire. In the human body, she responds to human stimuli, and she's been bereft far longer than you have.

"You have to roll over, Filia, or I can't massage the rest of you."

She turned slightly to glare up at him with sleepy eyes. "Pervert."

"I won't touch anything I'm not supposed to," Xellos chuckled. "Here, just keep this towel over your chest."

That's not important. Filia would feel betrayed later, and I would feel . . . like a traitor.

The blonde grumbled, but managed to twist and turn herself onto her back without loosing the towel. "Okay. Now what?" she snapped.

"Now," he gave her an exasperated look with one brow raised, "I finish your massage. You can either go back to sleep, trusting me to not do anything naughty," he winked, "or you can stay awake and stress yourself out by being paranoid that I AM doing something naughty but I'm covering it up incredibly well."

She glared at him but closed her eyes. "I think I'll stay awake for a little bit."

He smiled cheerily at her. "Okay!"

0

Stupid Mazoku, Filia thought hazily as Xellos began rubbing oil into her shoulders and upper chest. If he even tries to grab my breasts . . . She could feel the satchel with the fragment in it, the leather rope gently rubbing across her neck.

His hands were very dexterous, and his fingers seemed to seek out and find every tiny muscle. The very fact that he was touching her like this sent electric trails down her spine, and she could feel her body becoming excited by it. I probably shouldn't have stayed celibate for so long, she mused, head buzzing.

His hands felt cool on her hot skin, but Filia knew that her reactions were inappropriate. I have to get myself together. I'm certain that Xellos can sense this, and if . . . no, I'm not going to think about it. We're both off–limits to each other. Her eyes flickered open for a moment, and she watched him as he leaned over her, his violet gaze fixated on her shoulders as he worked on her.

But why does he have to be so handsome and charismatic? She moaned as he dug into a particularly sore muscle and closed her eyes again. And mysterious . . . that's always the most compelling thing about men . . . Maybe it would just be safer if I went back to sleep . . . at this point, there's more risk of ME being the pervert.

Filia made herself relax, and brushed away her less than admirable yearnings. Sleep, she told herself. I can trust Xellos . . . I have to. I do, I DO trust him. I do . . .

The dragoness felt herself melt into the mat, drifting into slumber.

(-(-o-)-)

Valgaav felt his feet land gently to the ground, and brushed a large leaf out of his face. "What . . . oh, thank the gods."

Zelas grabbed his arm and looked around at the surrounding jungle, drenched in moonlight. "Alright, I don't sense the stone . . ." she close her eyes and frowned. "Hm . . ."

"No," Val answered, pressing on through the lush foliage and ducking a large insect as it flew by. "This is something I remember. This is when we lived in Peru." He looked down at himself, and sure enough, he was wearing khaki pants and shirt, as was Zelas, her face blue in the leaf-filtered light.

"That's odd. Before we went to other places you didn't remember," she mused. "Listen, I have to locate where the stone was when it moved, whichever stone it is. Just stay here and wait for me, alright?"

She seems really normal, now, Val thought to himself as he nodded. Zelas smiled and began to fizzle in and out of reality, so the dragon left her there in the jungle and began walking down the familiar path that was worn into the greenery.

After a few minutes, he came to the colony. It was fairly small, with a quartermaster's station, two dozen houses, a church, a warehouse. . . He sighed with longing. Those days were so great. The moonlight shimmered on the nearby ocean, and a few candles were lit in windows.

Walking up to the small house and clinic where they had lived, Val smiled as he heard his mother's voice, his dragon ears enhancing the sound that would normally be inaudible to a human.

"Xellos! I'm going to stop you from scaring them away if it's the last thing I do!"

"Now, my child, anger is no way to approach any situation," he heard Xellos reply snidely. "You tend to the injuries of the body and I'll tend to those of the soul." A snigger followed the pompous statement.

The young dragon went to the closed door and found he could step through the wood without great difficulty. He entered the kitchen and watched with amusement.

Xellos sat at the little table in their kitchen, wearing the robes and trappings of a Catholic priest, while Filia stood, fists clenched, in the thick safari dress that women wore.

"You're the cause of all the were-cat sightings, aren't you?" she hissed. "You're the one making everyone scared of their own shadows!"

With a grin, Xellos shrugged. "Whether I said yes or no, what will you do about it? I'm a priest, you're just a lowly doctor." His very human-looking eyes gazed deeply into her own, and in a very cold tone, he continued, "Go ahead and try to get in my way, Felicia. I can have you sent away and a new doctor brought down on the next boat from Spain."

By the door, Valgaav shivered. I'd forgotten how . . . distant they used to be.

Something moved in the dark living room, and Filia turned to face it. "Val? You should be in bed, what are you doing up?"

A boy who looked about twelve moved into the light, his clean-cut aquamarine hair glinting in the candle-light of the kitchen. "Mother. Sorry. I came back from visiting Catalina late." He blushed as he said it and scraped his shoe on the floor.

"Well," Filia said, shooting a nervous glance to the silent priest, "get up to bed."

"Why do you and Uncle Xellos fight all the time?" he asked as she shooed him upstairs.

"Don't call him that, he's not your uncle," she admonished him. "We fight because he does things he shouldn't."

A happy voice called from the kitchen, "I hope you had a good time with Catalina, Valgaav!"

"Quiet, Mazoku!" Filia cried. "Val, just go to bed, alright?"

"How did Xellos get to be the priest, Mother? He's not human."

"I know," she said, voice becoming distant as they moved up the stairs, "but neither are we and we're accepted."

"He does lots of pranks, not much like a priest at all," returned the muffled child's voice, then all was silent.

A soft voice spoke at Val's side, and he jumped. "So, who's Catalina, Valgaav?" Zelas asked, chuckling.

With a little blush, he shrugged. "Just a girl at the colony I knew. Her father was the quartermaster."

"So, everywhere you lived you changed your names. Interesting." She smiled darkly, turning from the door. "I bet Catalina thought you were very handsome."

"Hey! We were just kids," he said, glancing back once more to see Xellos sitting at the table, brooding.

Zelas pulled at his hand, saying, "This time the stone was used by someone in the Amerikas, during the war with Britain; the other one is dormant in the Hawaiian Islands. New memory, new time, just empty your mind."

He sighed and drifted off into the darkness.

(-(-o-)-)

Filia woke slowly to the feeling of hands rubbing her legs. Hmm, Xellos is really good at this. I feel so relaxed . . . But something disturbed her calm, an unknown that prodded from the back of her mind. Something's missing, I'm not remembering something important . . .

With a gasp, Filia screamed, "VALGAAV!" and sat straight up . . . towel falling to her lap.

Jerking back, Xellos stared at her, then his mouth began to contort in amusement. "Oh, my, Filia . . . I didn't realize you were such an exhibitionist!"

Clutching her arms to cover her suddenly bare breasts, Filia cried, "Valgaav is alone with the Hellmaster!"

"And?" He smiled his cheery smile.

With a growl, the blonde looked around the room desperately. "He could be in danger, your mistress is so . . . so . . ."

Sighing, the violet-tressed Mazoku held up his hands. "Filia, she won't hurt him. I already had a discussion with her about what was and was not permitted."

"But," her wide blue eyes locked onto him, "you're HER servant, not the other way around!"

"General and Priest, actually," he corrected her with a very serious expression. "Though neither duties have I been called upon to perform for quite a while, that is what I am to her."

"But Valgaav-!" she clenched her fists before her, then squealed and grabbed the towel to her chest, "Val, is, is in danger." This is so embarrassing!

"No, he's not," Xellos chuckled at the rising blush across her body, "he's fine. You and Valgaav are both under my protection, because Zelas has given me the right to care for you."

She glowered. "But, but . . . that's because she sees us as your . . your . . . pets," she spat.

"Filia! Calm yourself." He tisked over her, smiling slightly. "Listen, everything is fine. Just so you know," he said, sounding put upon, "I was monitoring them to make sure nothing unusual occurred while they were searching his memories. They're fine, Valgaav doesn't seem upset and Zelas is concentrating on searching."

Frowning, Filia looked down and to the side. "How do you know it's not because he's unconscious or something?"

"Filia . . ." His amethyst eyes gazed deeply at her as he leaned forward. "You have the stone. Remember? That makes you more powerful than Zelas. If she hurt Valgaav in any way, you would easily be able to defeat her. Even if she wanted to hurt him, she's not stupid."

The dragoness sagged forward, gripping the towel to herself. "I guess you're right."

"Of course I am," he beamed. "Now, time for your mud bath!"

"What?!"

Filia looked around at the new room; a young demon woman stood in the corner, head down, and two shallow, empty claw-footed baths sat in the center of the room. "But, Xellos, I don't like mud!"

"You agreed to it," he smiled as he grabbed one of her hands, "Come on, up you go."

"You said I wouldn't need mud treatments," Filia hissed as she stood up, and bristled as he put her robe across her shoulders.

"No, I said you wouldn't need dry mud. This is warm, wet mud and isn't left on your skin until it dries."

"But," she searched desperately for an excuse, "you never got a massage, we should go back . . ." Yuck, mud!

Xellos tilted his head forward, silken hair falling around his face. "But Filia, I have control over my body, including muscles. Are you really that afraid of getting dirty?" he teased, eyes glinting.

Flushing angrily, Filia growled, "Fine! But you have to get in, also!"

(-(-o-)-)

They stepped out onto land, air moist and sun beating down. Lush greenery rolled down every hill and into valleys filled with pines, oak and ash trees; flowers soaked the hills with a rainbow of colors.

Zelas spun in the bright light, drab brown and gray peasant dress whirling. "Yea! Sunlight! Hey, this looks like Ireland . . ."

"Yeah, we followed Xellos here in the mid-eighteen hundreds. One of the missions you'd given him, though he never told us what."

She smiled proudly, blond hair rippling in the wind. "Of course. Is that where you lived?" she asked, pointing to the cottage nestled against a copse of trees.

Val nodded with a grin. "Yeah." He began walking towards it eagerly.

"I'll see you soon," the Hellmaster called, "you go on ahead!"

Smiling, Valgaav hurried towards the little building, impatient to see his next dream-memory.

When he reached the cottage, he pushed through the walls and soaked up his surroundings. In the little kitchen, he and his mother were sitting at the table, her long blonde hair done up in four braids and looped around her head with bobby-pins. She wore a dark, faded pink peasant dress.

"So, Val, any ideas on the famine?" she asked him, chin resting in her hand.

The child across from her cocked his green head, clothing just as drab as hers. "I think so. I was wondering about the bugs in the potatoes, and how they were eating them all. Maybe if you could kill the bugs in an indirect way, instead of the direct way we previously spoke of."

"Oh," she sat up, cerulean eyes brightening, "like a spell that would alter their environment or living conditions."

"Yeah, Mother," the young teenager continued, "Like, maybe if you had a spell that would freeze them, or something similar."

A sudden voice came from the tiny hallway. "My, my, Filia. Trying to do more good deeds." Xellos stepped out, wearing a black suit-coat over a ruffled alabaster shirt, a smirk on his youthful face. "Hello, lad, how are your studies progressing?"

"Fairly well, though Mother has had to teach me personally, after all. None of the teachers here know more than I do," the young man boasted.

The purple-tressed Mazoku chuckled and leisurely stepped into the room. "I don't doubt it, Val."

"Go away, Xellos!" Filia glowered at him. "I know you didn't come her to make idle conversation!"

"Actually," he grinned as he sat down in a nearby chair, "I came to see how you were doing, coming up with ways to end the potato famine! Any luck?"

Standing up so fast that her chair skidded back, Filia snapped, "I'm not talking to you. You probably started the whole thing to begin with!" With a sniff, she turned and walked out the door, leaving the two men together.

Valgaav looked out the window as his younger counterpart began chatting with the Xellos of the past. "It's so strange, seeing everything like this."

A groan came from the other side of the room, and Zelas appeared. "How tiring and frustrating. Oh, is that you? You were so cute!" The blonde began cooing over his alter-self, and he sighed.

"Yes, that's me."

"You were such a dashing young man. Not that you aren't even more so now," she commented wryly. "You couldn't have been past fourteen - in human development, anyway."

The young Valgaav was grinning at Xellos. "So, when are you and Mother going to get married?"

Xellos laughed sharply. "Addled youth!" He grinned back. "Your mother would sooner kill me. Anyhow, I always saw myself as the bachelor type. I doubt I'll ever get married at all."

The teen frowned. "How old are you? At least two thousand years. You're not getting any younger, and you seem to like pestering Mother greatly. She gets more fired up around you than anyone else, as well."

Sighing, the monster leaned back. "The answer's no. I won't marry your mother."

"Damn." Young Val leaned his head on the table, dejected.

"How about I teach you how to cast a fireball spell?" Xellos offered.

"Sure!"

Zelas chortled and clutched Valgaav's arm. "Adorable! And seeing Xellos act like this, I never get to see him so . . . so . . . normal, and comfortable! This is so fascinating . . ."

"Shouldn't we be going?" Val asked calmly, rolling his eyes.

"Yes, yes. You're right, okay," she laughed and bounced out of the cottage. "This is fun!"

"So," he sighed, following her, "what did you find?"

The blonde demoness rolled her eyes. "Oh, the stone just helped some guy named Henry create a repeating revolver and win the Civil War. Pretty boring."

"Benjamin Henry? That's cool!" he exclaimed, earning himself a glare.

"Guns are so unsophisticated."

He rolled his eyes back at her. "Like a dragon-slave is the essence of subtlety."

"No, of course not, that's what Xellos is for. Now, come on, since both fragments are still present, we need another trip."

Val nodded and breathed in, then shivered as a cold wind blew through him.

(-(-o-)-)

Filia tried to relax in the tub full of mud, but it was difficult. The brown ooze smelled like plants and fresh earth, but it was still disgusting. She turned to glare at Xellos who was lying happily in the other tub. Jerk. At least he turned around while I was getting undressed again. She glared at her clothes, folded neatly on a chair, just for good measure.

"Filia," Xellos' sing-songy voice called out, "you're not relaxing!"

"It's difficult, it's so gooey," she complained. "And some hair is getting in my face."

The female monster who hadn't groveled nearly as much as the others they'd seen at the spa, walked over from where she had been working on something. "Here, let me readjust your bun," she offered, voice a chiming soprano.

"Um, thank you," Filia tried uncomfortably.

The demoness' red hair was cut in a short pixy style, her bangs a dark burgundy. Gently, she re-tied the large bun on Filia's head and the plastic wrapping around it, then returned to the tray she'd been busy with. "If you're distracted by the Moor mud, I'm going to give you face and feet massages, so you should try to concentrate on how it feels."

Sighing, the blonde shrugged. "Okay. Why is this stuff good for me again?"

The girl smiled sweetly, her innocent green eyes wide and her slight form strangely unthreatening, as she rolled the cart to the base of Filia's bath. "Moor mud is from the moors of Scotland. It rejuvenates tired muscles and skin by returning minerals that are missing and softening the skin."

"But it's so yucky," Filia stuck out her tongue, and the demoness laughed.

"It's good for you," the red-haired girl said, then gently placed Filia's feet on the pillow that rested upon the cart. "Just close your eyes and imagine yourself someplace wonderful."

Filia did as she was told as the petite demoness began massaging her feet. The energy from the masseuse was minimal in comparison to the familiar dark morass exuding from her companion, and somehow less jarring than the other demons she had seen. Xellos . . . I wonder just when the feeling of your evil became so comfortable and soothing.

(-(-o-)-)

Snowflakes danced and swirled in the sterile light, and the young dragon glanced around himself in confusion.

People bustled past them on the sidewalk, winter coats and scarves wrapped tightly around them. In the road, swarms of bicyclists weaved in and out of traffic, cars honking as they slid through the slush.

Zelas smiled and rubbed her fur coat lovingly. "Nice weather. So, where did you live?"

Huddling into his own, more modest coat, the aqua-haired teen turned to take in the city. "In the wealthy district. Xellos was on vacation, or so he said, but Mom wanted to follow him anyway, so here we were." He led her down the street, past vendors selling souvenirs and tall, oriental buildings.

"I always wondered why Xellos chose here of all places for a vacation," Zelas commented dryly as they walked. "Certainly, there was dissention among the natives, hatred of the British for swooping down and taking over, but so many other places were more interesting."

Val shrugged and rubbed his hands together as they turned a corner. "I always thought he just wanted to sight-see."

After a few more minutes of walking, they came to a long avenue filled with shops, restaurants and high-class condominiums, all designed with an Asian flair. "There, that's the apartment we lived in. Xellos lived a few doors down."

"So," Zelas said, stalking determinedly towards the building, "what did you all do while you were here?"

Following, Valgaav answered with a nervous laugh, "Well, Xellos would ask Mom to go sight-seeing with him, and she'd get upset, then usually go with him because she was sure he was going to do something nefarious. Though I really thought it was just an excuse for them to spend time together alone."

"And you?" she said, moving through the closed doors leading into the condominium.

The dragon went in as well. "Um, I studied, and spent time with a few people I met here."

Suddenly, the elevator opened, and his doppelganger walked out, green hair slightly longer and a Chinese girl on his arm. "Don't be afraid of the lift, Xian. It's not dangerous, really."

The couple walked passed them, and Valgaav ducked his head slightly at Zelas' smirk.

"But Val," the gentian-haired girl cried with a thick accent, "it so scary!"

With a swing of the door and a flutter of snowflakes, the memory-couple was gone, leaving Valgaav to stand sheepishly in the foyer.

"She was cute," Zelas teased, "so I guess Xellos wasn't the only one looking for romance!"

Blushing, Val snorted and began to walk up the stairs, saying, "I greatly doubt he was doing that-"

"Hey."

He looked back at the apathetic Mazoku. "What?"

"Why don't we just phase through?"

"Oh."

(-(-o-)-)

After the foot and face massages, Filia seemed much more at ease with the mud.

Xellos understood her dislike of the thick substance, having refined tastes himself, but other parts of him paid no mind to laying in a pool of dirt. After all, he was corporeal out of choice, not chance. Matter was shifting in his perceptions, energy easily manipulated; reality quite malleable.

And then, there was Iyzeka.

Xellos watched the Mazoku girl as she massaged Filia's temples, the dragon sighing with happiness. Iyzeka . . . it's been a long time.

His eyes followed the redhead as she finished the massage. Stepping away, Iyzeka began rolling the cart smoothly towards the back wall. But as it gently touched the wall, a bottle of oil toppled over, blue glass shattering across the floor – and a spike of fear rolled deliciously from the short-haired demoness.

She smiled nervously at them and began cleaning it up with a towel. "Oops!"

Now, that's odd. Why is she so terrified of me?

He could not think of a time when his subordinates didn't fear him. While he reveled in the abject terror he caused them, he had to wonder from where their fears stemmed. Was I as bad as all that, so long ago? he asked himself, and thought back to his past.

To his left, Filia moaned and yawned as the sound of the glass breaking woke her. "I don't want to get up . . . oh. Oh, right, the mud. Yech. Now I'll have to take ANOTHER shower, Xellos!"

Xellos ignored her accusing blue gaze, his mind on his past. "No, you won't," he answered distantly. It was so long ago.

Sighing, he nodded his head imperceptibly. He remembered his youth as a Mazoku on the island, but he'd never stopped to think back on it for some time; not since he'd last visited Zelas. Now, his recollections were colored by his new emotions and experiences. The shadow images of his "childhood" flashed within his mind, his interactions with other Mazoku, and he was forced to come to a conclusion.

It was difficult to admit, but . . . he'd been a fiend.

"Why not?" Filia asked, and Xellos' attention was brought back to the present. "You expect this mud to just vanish?" she drawled, eyes unamused.

Grinning with sudden maliciousness, Xellos took a handful of power, so little that it could not be seen by the eyes, and raised his brows.

Trillions upon trillions of molecules shifted where only he could see them . . .

And Filia gasped as she found herself sitting in very warm, very transparent water.

Xellos leaned back in his own tub, water sloshing against the sides, and put his hands behind his head. "There. It's not mud anymore, now is it?"

(-(-o-)-)

"Well," The Hellmaster looked around the sparsely furnished apartment, "no one's home. How disappointing." She turned to grin at him. "Do you think they're off enjoying themselves somewhere?"

"As they hurl insults at each other, no doubt," Valgaav sighed and looked around the room. "Well, we'd better go."

"Not so fast!" The blonde frowned at him. "I'm going to check out where the stones were, so you find your mother and Xellos, alright? I want to get to see them together, it's too much fun!"

He shrugged, and smiled. "Okay. I guess it wouldn't be too bad seeing them, they certainly are amusing."

"Exactly! Bye!" With a wave, she disappeared.

The dragon sighed again, sitting down on the couch to gaze out the frosted window. "Where would Mom and Xellos be? They could be anywhere."