Draconnic Shenanigans - Episode 40

Chapter Forty: The Witch of the Mountains

(Artwork not mine, from the video 'The Twisted Myth that Hard Work Pays Off'

by Beasts of the Olde World, depicting Habetrot, fairy queen of the spinners.) 

"Come here girl," the old crone lifted a beckoning finger. Alina sighed and bowed her head, stepping forward. Estella took hold of her wrist, gazing at the crone with narrowed eyes, something like scales and claws swirling just below the surface of the windows into her soul. Kaelin tensed, expecting a curse or something worse to come flying Estella's way but instead the crone actually smiled at the younger girl, a look that said she was pleased about the concern for Alina's well being. Alina herself smiled, slightly sadly it must be said, patted Estella's hand and slipped out of her grasp. She walked across the turf to stand before the old crone. The old woman lifted Alina's chin with surprisingly gentle fingers and tugged down the scarf, revealing the poultice smeared over the bruises that were beginning to turn green at the edges.

"Ah," she observed, "So it's like that is it?" 

 Alina bowed her head, a tear sliding down her cheek.

"You aren't the first girl," the crone tapped the ground with the butt of her staff, "And like as not you won't be the last. At least you'll have me to help you out, as well as your ma and pa. I didn't, I had to do it all myself and let me tell you, with your ma that was no easy feat. I swear that girl lived to have her toe right on the line." She shook her head at the memory and turned her attention to the King's Special and their allies.

"I must thank you for finding my grandchild and seeing her returned safely to us," she nodded to them, her voice slightly cracked by years of work and effort but still strong and fierce. Old age had not enfeebled this one but rather toughened her, making her as hard as her hobnail boots, able to march through the storm, cross the ice field and still look the gods in the eyes on the other side and dare them to say that they could have done a better job of it than she had done.

"We only acted as any right thinking person would have done," Ulrich dismounted from Peter's back and bowed with an elegant flourish, "But I have to admit that I for one am curious as to the identity of her attacker."

"If you mean that you suspect that it was me, then I would say that you are not as right thinking as you think you are," the crone said, but she said it with a slight smile that said she was all too aware of the monsters in the world that could make others look aslant at family members and wonder if the greatest dangers came from where people should be the safest. Estella lowered her chin and peered at the crone more, trying to judge whether this was friend, foe or something else, some combination of the two.

"Alina is the only grandchild I have been blessed with, therefore I treasure her," the crone shifted how she lent on her stick, "For us mortals our children are our immortality, therefore we should guard them much better than we do." She looked at Estella and inclined her head. Estella straightened, suddenly knowing that this crone really did see more of her than just her face. She looked at Alina and remembered all the times Alina had patted around her head without touching her and the fact that Valodrael had felt her gestures instead. In an instant Estella understood that the trait was inherited.

"Unfortunately to live is a risk every day," the crone continued, "And like as not it is invariably from other people our greatest risk comes. Still I dare say that there is one less risk in the world today, isn't there? Your great Aunt kept you safe?"

Alina nodded solemnly, grey eyes sad.

"There you are," the crone nodded to Ulrich, "In this family we look after our own, always. Now, are you going to gift me with the names of your squad or am I to just guess?"

"You must think me churlish," Ulrich bowed again in apologises, "I assure you that I am not usually this much of a ill mannered yokel. I am Ulrich Brekka, gentleman adventurer. My three companions of the elvish persuasion are Quenril, Tasnar and Sabal, loyal warriors and my sworn guardians. My big, green companion is Thorian Vandervast, loyal, brave, strong and true. Then we have Kaelin Sans Name, a lady of a puca born line, a breaker of chains and changer of family traditions."

"That is not always looked upon with favour," the crone inclined her head, a knowing look in her eyes.

"Well some family traditions need to be changed," Kaelin said bluntly.

"The well built gentleman riding upon the cyclopean dragon is Dumpy the Wizard," Ulrich continued.

"I beg your pardon!" Jeremiah thundered, face like a storm cloud and the air darkening around him.

"Sorry, good friend, just my jest as I know you like a good laugh as much as anyone," Ulrich winced as the image of another dragon flickered into view behind Jeremiah. Ulrich suppressed a shudder but still had to swallow back the sour taste of fear, even after the sight had faded from reality.

"Sorry, my good lady," he apologised to the crone, "I am afraid that sometimes my own good humour over takes my senses."

"A man of great wit but little wisdom," the crone observed blandly.

 "And lastly with have the lady Estella Blackstar, a companion who joined us at the same time as our Ash Elf friends and who holds hidden depths, including one that holds a very dear friend of ours -Softy the Dragon," Ulrich completed his introductions.

"Softy!?!" Valodrael spat, his voice dripping from Estella's lips, both of her eyes the colour of the Void.

"And our very good friend, aren't you?" Ulrich smiled broadly. Estella's face twisted, her mouth opened... and her gaze turned to look at the crone, who stood impassively but with an air of power about her. Growling and snarling, Valodrael receded, grumbling all the way.

"Would you mind not provoking him like that?" Estella asked Ulrich, "It isn't exactly comfortable for me when he starts crawling up my throat, makes me feel like someone has just punched me in the breast bone, again."

"Ma'am, I apologise," Ulrich  bowed to her, "I truly did not realise that there was discomfort involved in your symbiosis. I will endeavour to keep my friendly banter and wry jesting to a minium if he finds it is beyond him to enjoy my gentle attempts at humour and teasing."

"It maybe gentle teasing to you sir," Estella smiled, "But as you yourself pointed out yesterday, dragons enjoy the idea that they are of a higher order than us mere mortals and you rather tried to savage his pride at the water meadow yesterday. At the moment, he is in no mood to appreciate your jabs and jibs. Maybe another time, if you judge your moment better." 

"I will bow to your higher knowledge," Ulrich bowed again and turned back to their audience, who was smiling gently as if she was amused by the scene before her.

"And what brings you into our mountains?" the crone asked, more curious than confrontational.

"We are attempting to return to the town of Nether Wallop to complete our mission for King Tatsuya of Portasia," Ulrich informed her, "But I am afraid that a long spell of travel within the bowels of the Underworld has left us rather confused as to the direction we should go. I dare say that I am presuming upon you but I did assume that you may have experience of this land, would you by any chance know of the direction we need to take?"

The crone frowned.

"Describe the place, I am unfamiliar with the name," she commanded.

"A large, rather muddy port town on by the East of a great lake large enough to be called a sea and backed by the mountains," Ulrich reported, "There's an Ash Elf running the place as Governor."

"Oh Lord," the crone raised her eyebrows, "You are out of your way. I haven't been to that side of the mountains since my daughter met her man, I wasn't about to make them move while things were decent for them and I wasn't about to leave my daughter to struggle with the weight I was left to struggle with." She thought about it, her hooked nose bending down as she pursed up her mouth, chewing something over.

"And him?" she pointed at where Tikrumpdel watched the proceedings with interest, the river swirling and gurgling around his bulk, Weatherall tapping near to pinch and pull a flap of badly shed scales off a haunch, "Is he travelling with you?"

"Indeed he is," Ulrich smiled, "We have come to a mutually beneficial agreement where we are transporting his horde in return for the use of one of the items as he has decided that he wishes to change its location and take a more active role in the world at large again."

"Well," the crone quirked an eyebrow and tried to suppress a smile. Alina covered her mouth as she didn't suppress the smile very well.

"Well," the crone bit her lip to say it levelly, "Well, it appears that taking a more active role has come none too early."

Tikrumpdel grinned and shrugged, sending waved sloshing against the banks of the river.

"Guilty as charged," he rumbled, "I will admit that I became too friendly with the food bar and not friendly enough with the use of my wings after Gaudis died." He slumped low in the water. "There just wasn't a point to anything any more so why not eat? It was the only thing that half way filled the hole. It wasn't like I could go back to Nablahal. Even without all the extra padding, I wouldn't have got through the doors and there wasn't anyone else who trusted the word of a red dragon as old as I was then and I am now." He looked mournfully at the crone. "Can a small folk like you understand that?"

"Oh aye," there was a misty look to her eyes, "I right can. 'Tis hard when the world seems to be hammering you on its anvil and if you have no one to live for it is so easy to just slide down the path towards seeking some form of oblivion."

 "Oblivion," Tikrumpdel nodded, "Oblivion is the word for it. Been trying to sleep myself into it but its just left me feeling crabby and cramped and restless, so now I'm going to try travelling. Can't be any worse and it might just shift some of the flab." He reared himself up and shook, his hide rippling like a sack full of jelly. "That and this great lake sounds interesting. I've found that deep water makes moving easier so it might make a fairly comfortable den."

The crone hummed and nodded at that, thinking something over.

"I think I need to discuss some things with my family," she stated and pulled a small whistle from the folds of her shawl. She puffed her cheeks and blew it until she flushed but no sound came out. Thorian frowned, a sort of tickling in his ears. He screwed a finger tip into one, trying to firkle the fly out.

Kaelin winced, gritted her teeth and then flinched, opening her mouth reflexively. The whistle was making her teeth buzz. Ulrich frowned as he watched her reaction and then he smiled.

"If Ma'am would like a counter point I have a little tin whistle some where in my pack that I am fairly good at turning a tune upon," he suggested.

"You dare and it will go where the sun don't shine!" Kaelin spat, hackles up, lips rippling back from her teeth as the wolf stood up and snarled. Alina took a step back, her eyes wide with shock but the crone watched with calm eyes and a knowing look.

"As much as I am sure that your offer is most generous," she said with a wry tone, "I must politely decline, for the sake of your team if nothing else and someday I will be interested in finding out the full story of how come such different people and different stories wound up sharing this travel together. Now then," she shifted her staff and laced the fingers of both hands around the top, "The river you are following, it will lead you astray. Oh it will guide you through the mountains, for a way. Then it will peter out in the bowl of a mountain's hand where the land is steep and rugged and the air is cold and wet. It will take you half way across the east to west line but no further. And it will also leave you about five hundred miles north of where you need to be."

"Er, is that a lot?" Thorian asked.

"Master Thorian," Estella said, "Remember your counting lessons? A hundred is ten groups of ten."

Thorian frowned and started counting on his fingers, lips moving as he counted to ten for every finger he touched.

"My dear Thorian," Jeremiah called, "Really there is no need for you to risk brain damage over this. Why not just accept that you don't have the intelligence needed to understand what people with greater intellects are discussing and leave it at that?"

Thorian frowned deeper, screwing his eyes shut as he concentrated on his counting. He tapped his last finger.

"That is a lot," he said slowly, "Five lots of that would be even more."

"About fifteen days of walking," Ulrich calculated, "Ten if we really push it, more likely twenty at least as we have to consider the fact that we will run into set backs, poor weather, broken roads, attacks. As we get close it is going to be out right ambushes. That puts us well outside Kaelin's time limit on the forfeit. We must be pushing the limit as it it."

The crone sniffed.

"Well seeing as my family owes you for the life and safety of our youngest member, " she said, "If my children agree to a move we maybe willing to help guide you through these mountains, although we will have to discuss the pace you want to set." She cast an eye at Tikrumpdel, who looked sheepish as he rolled the massive layers of blubber over his shoulders.

"The other thing I want to know is why is this town so important to you all," the crone demanded.

"Despite its layer of mud, which is difficult to avoid when you are in a very wet climate," Ulrich explained, "It is a charming little town with a close knit community and the largest production base for the East side of the lake. The people there are hardy and have give their all to earn their place as the bastion of Portasia, guarding that stretch of the boarder along the mountains. All in all, it is a place where a mixed bag like us can make a home as long as we don't go out of our way to annoy our neighbours."

The crone sucked her teeth, obviously considering the description in the light of her growing conviction that it would be safer for her family to move on but then her eyes narrowed.

"Personally I wouldn't mind settling there once our King releases us from our duty," Ulrich picked up the warning signs and dropped the other shoe, "Assuming that we can lift the siege that it is currently experiencing."

"Under siege?" the crone lifted her eyebrows, "Siege by whom?"

"Unfortunately a conclave of Ash Elves and werewolves," Ulrich came to attention, hands locked in the small of his back, "The very worst sort of werewolves."

"Worst?" the crone asked, striding over to look at Quenril, to prod and pock and glare, "How can you have something worse than the infectious mess they already are? They defile the blessed rest granted by the moon mother and then hide from the judgement of her sister, the cleansing sun, so how can you have worse than that?"

"Because these ones are intelligent and they are being led by one who is not only intelligent but also warped in his values," Ulrich explained, "They have been researching some form of magic that counters the werewolf change only they haven't used it to cure the condition. Instead they have locked themselves into the werewolf form but have kept a degree of human intelligence while they are in that form. They have also been experimenting with blending their forms with other creatures and monsters to create more specialised versions of the werewolf form."

"You said that they are allied with the Ash Elves as well," the crone noted, giving Sabal a none too gentle tap with her staff. He flinched and frowned at Ulrich, wondering how he should respond. In the time before he would have had his sword out and buried in her sternum before she could blink, now however he wondered how he should treat this woman of another race, particularly as the feel of her power still shifted and moved around her.

"Why then are you travelling with a trio of them?" the crone continued, her dark grey eyes glaring at Tasnar, who held very still, wondering if she was about to bite him or something.

"The Ash Elves, despite all previous knowledge of them are not a monolithic culture," Ulrich explained, "Instead they are divided into clans. Quenril, Tasnar and Sabal are of the Snake or Serpent Clan, whom have become our allies and without their help we might very well be still trapped within the depths of the Underworld."

The crone narrowed her eyes at the three Ash Elves and slowly, cautiously Quenril lifted his right hand to show the serpents head tattooed upon his palm, his brother and cousin copying the gesture.

"The clan that has allied itself to the werewolves are of the Bat Clan, a renegade house driven out of Ash Elf society and even the Underworld for experiments that went some what awesomely wrong," Ulrich continued, "You can recognise them by the fact that they have their noses cut and reshaped to resemble those of bats as part of their initiation rites to adulthood."

"Ah," the crone took a step back and nodded, "So you're having trouble with that bunch as well. That explains a lot of things. We had trouble with them here nigh on a year ago. They used to like playing nasty little games, cattle theft mostly, sometimes vandalism, a few disappearances. Then they got more bold all of a sudden, affecting the land itself, twisting the ley lines all out of wack. I had to call in some hefty favours to send them packing before it turned to raiding and slaughter and it has taken me too long to set things straight. If I hadn't been so preoccupied with setting things to rights within the land I might have noticed the undercurrents gathering around my granddaughter but too late now as it is said. So this is civil war and the other side is playing rough, calling in things that shouldn't be allied with?"

"That does just about sum it up," Ulrich admitted, "It is our job to..."

He trailed off.

Jeremiah was still sat upon Nanny Tatters head, gazing off in the other direction, trying to decide just how he would return the insult the Ulrich for that disgraceful name. He tugged at his beard, muttering and mumbling through his teeth, dark thoughts curdling in the air around him. There had to be a way of bringing Ulrich low without jeopardising his position in the King's Special. There was also the fact that from what the witch was saying they were outside of the boarders of Portasia. Should he take now as the golden opportunity to leaving the King's Special? There again, he looked back over his shoulder, the forest gave no indication as to any civilised life being out there, save for that slight grey haze on one point of the horizon. Jeremiah gritted his teeth. Elf country. He hated elf country. No roads, no proper cities, no stupid, easily lead humans that would listen to his words and could be swayed by his speech. And the magic, he nearly spat at the mere thought of it. Thinking of it now, there was that elf diplomat that had stayed at the Abbey eighteen months before his arrest. It must have been that pointy eared, stuck up snob that had snitched on him and started those ungrateful peons interfering with his business. Jeremiah turned back and shut his eyes. Ulrich and elves, both of them deserved some form of pay back, he just had to decide how it would happen.

Unnoticed by him, sunk deep as he was in thoughts of vengeance and retribution, the sight that had struck Ulrich dumb came flapping closer. It wasn't flying. Instead it was running, its long back legs thudding three toed, horny nailed feet on the turf as it flapped its wings of wooden shutters, its beaked head waving on the end of its long neck.

Kaelin's mouth fell open. The thing slowed as it approached its Mistress, huge eyes of clay turning to stare at the King's Special as its head turned and turned on the end of its long neck. One would say that the structure it carried was on its back but it seemed that it was more like it was part of its back, a domed shape reminiscent of a straw woven bee hive with a gothic arched doorway and small windows. Railings on stilts edged narrow walkways that turned the dome into terraces and other than the wooden parts, the whole thing was green, plants in abundance erupting out of its surface in a profusion of cut and come again crops.

"Whoop," it clucked, turning its gaze to look at its mistress, "Whoop."

Thorian stared up at it as the different form of china golem towered over them, quite unlike the giant turtle forms they had seen down in the Underworld.

"I think that would rival the governors palace back in Nether Wallop," he observed.

Ulrich raised his eyebrows but kept quite. His half brothers had spent years tormenting him with stories about the witch of the mountains who lived in a hut that ran around on bird legs, hunting for unwanted children like him to feed into the witches boiling pot for dinner. He had grown up and discarded such notions, believing himself to be too old to be tricked by some old bed time story. Finding out that there was some truth behind...

"You have to be kidding me," Kaelin said loudly, "It's the chicken witch!"

"Oh gods!" Ulrich exclaimed, sinking his face into his hands, "Kaelin if you ever join the King's diplomatic core, please tell me so I can be somewhere, anywhere, else!"

Alina laughed and then coughed, a dry raking sound as her throat protested at the abuse. The old crone twisted her lips in what could have possibly been a smile.

"Pardon our companion's complete lack of tact," Ulrich bowed low to hide his pained expression, "But may I presume that we have the honour of standing in the presence of Yaga Tuf, the... Lady of the Mountains." There, he'd saved the title at least.  One of these days he was going to instruct Kaelin on the finer forms of social grace and posse. He was going to teach her how to be more than just a ruffian.

The crone laughed, a cackle that echoed all his childhood bedtime fears and Ulrich had to suppress a shudder as chill licked up his spine.

"So you've heard all the old stories, have you?" she grinned, showing teeth that had gaps in them, "The old hag, Yaga Tuf, in her unnatural house, be careful or she'll eat you alive? Or may, go to bed right now or Yaga Tuf will take you away and boil you in her cauldron?" Her grey eyes sparkled.

 "Um, something like that," Ulrich rubbed the back of his neck as he admitted it. She laughed again.

"People never change," she shook her head as the hut started lowering itself to ground, legs folding up like a chicken brooding its eggs.

"Whoop?" it questioned.

"I take it that those stories are a complete fabrication then," Ulrich tried to do his most winning smile.

She half turned to her hut still smiling.

"I like children," she admitted, "But I couldn't eat a whole one."

"What about half?" Thorian asked. Ulrich and Estella looked at him with faces that were half disgusted, half horrified.

"Too noisy," Yaga Tuf stated as the hut finished settling itself and folded its wings so that they formed a set of stairs down to the turf, "And I can't stand how they wriggle."

 "Did you find her?" a voice called suddenly, "Is she alright? Please tell me she's alright?"

Stood at the top of the wing stairs, at a gap in the railing that ran around the lowest level of walkway, a lady with dark hair beginning to grey at the temples stood, her whole body tense until she saw Alina standing there, waving sheepishly.

Jeremiah narrowed his eyes, looking from Alina to the new woman to Yaga Tuf, seeing the family resemblance between all three. Behind his beard his lip curled. The maiden, the mother and the crone, what a pretty picture. A coven of witches stood right there on the turf, as bold as brass and twice as ugly. His fingers curled as he took in the sight, knowing that the old one, the matriarch, was watching him back as the lost member was welcomed back into the fold. The flames should have claimed them all as they hanged from the gallows, them and their foul magics, as worthless and depraved as their rotten souls and their depraved rites that they practised, worshipping things that had no right to exist without the permission of men. Nature wasn't to be worshipped, it was to be subdued, punished, broken to the lash, the whip and the harness as the disobedient beast that it was. And these three witches, these three hags, these... these women! He fought not to spit. They stood there proud of their power, their bargain with the forces that should beg for mercy, beg for the permission to exist. These women stood there proud, defiant, when they should kneel, subservient, obedient to the will of their men. It didn't take a genius to work out what had happened to the youngest, this 'Alina', if that was even her real name. She had seduced some upright and proper young man, tried to drag his soul to hell, he had broken her hold and then tried to cleanse the world of her filthy presence only her unholy powers had interfered. Jeremiah drummed his fingers on Nanny Tatters' head, looking away from the scene. They should have left her in the river or better yet finished what had been started. The fire was a better way, more sure, but a witch's power couldn't cross water so drowning was a method to drive their evil, their spite and their magic out of the world. Drowning and then burial in a black marked coffin so that all the angels and saints would know of their perversity on sight, would know that here was one unworthy of even being given a trial before the gods, that here was one who's soul was more demon than human, fit only to be immediately thrown into the Pit to suffer and burn for all eternity from the moment that it was found. They...

Jeremiah nearly choked. Spearing through the sky came another, with neither wing or sky vessel, unnaturally riding the air currents by the means of a stick. A stick! And it was a man! A man fallen to the perverted ways of these crones. Jeremiah was nearly sick at the sight.

"You silly girl!" the new woman was saying, her tone fierce even as she embraced Alina, "You silly, silly girl! Of all the daft things to do! Just what were you thinking?" She was smiling and crying all at once. "Of course you could come home! Did you think that your father would be that angry with you!?! Do you think I'd marry a closed minded bigot like that?" She was trying to hug Alina and shake her at the same time.

"I think you'll find that Alina didn't run away out of choice," Yaga Tuf tapped her staff upon the ground, her crabbed mouth even more wrinkled than ever. The new woman looked at her with concern and then the rest of the King's Special spotted what Jeremiah had already seen as with a roar of displaced air the man riding the flying stick braked to a stop just above the turf. He threw himself off the staff before it had fully stopped moving and flung himself at the pair at the bottom of the steps to the walking hut. The hut turned its head to watch him enfold both of them at once. For a long while he didn't say anything at all but his arms shook as he held on like a man afraid that he would drown if he let go.

At last he eased his hold.

"Don't ever do that again!" he whispered fiercely, "Don't ever do that again! No matter how much trouble you think..." He trailed off. Alina closed her eyes as his thick fingers tugged down the scarf around her neck. Alina's mother drew in a sharp breath but her father just looked, his lips pressed tighter and tighter, a terrible expression in his eyes.

"I liked that boy," he admitted, "I thought he was on the level. No more. When I catch up to him he'll wish that he never even looked at you."

"I don't think you have to worry about that," Yaga Tuf said with a level gaze, "I think that he has already been taken care of, particularly if Alina followed my advice and made sure she was close to the water when they last met." Alina looked at her grandmother and nodded. Her father took several long breaths to calm down and then turned to the King's Special.

"I suppose we need to thank you for making sure Alina got home safe," he said, holding out his hand to Thorian, his blue eyes shadowed by the hours of worry, "We've been looking for her for two days."

Thorian looked and like what he saw. The man was slim but his forearms were lined with the rangy muscle of someone used to hefting heavy weighs repeatedly. That and the burn scars spoke of someone used to the flying sparks of the forge and anvil. Thorian enveloped the man's hand in his mighty paw and felt the resistance of the man's grip. Thorian smiled.

"You are welcome," Ulrich nodded to the man, noting the fine bone structure of the man's cheek bones and long chin beneath the mop of walnut brown hair. There was some more than human in that face, a slight touch of something else. Ulrich frowned as he realised the man's hair covered his ears. "We were happy to help someone in need."

"Yeah we did," Thorian gave the guy's hand a hard shake and then let go, "We got her out in one piece. Thankfully she don't breath none of it in."

Alina's dad smiled at Thorian, impressed with his grip and then his expression faltered.

"What do you mean?" he frowned, lines of worry coming back in his face, "What do you mean got her? Breath what in?"

Thorian bit his lip, knowing he'd once again said something he shouldn't have done. He looked at Ulrich, hoping his friend wasn't too upset about him winning the competition, that he'd be willing to help out right about now.

"I'm afraid Alina took a tumble in the river," Ulrich explained, "We found her down stream over a day ago but as you see, we made sure her health was restored as we brought her home and she has returned the favour. One of my companions was beaten around the head quite badly by a water element and she has worked wonders relieving his headache."

Alin'a father didn't seem to be hearing Ulrich's gratitude, consuming by the knowledge of what dangers lay in the river and that his child had nearly been consumed by them. He closed his eyes, mouth working to hold it in, his hands trembling. Again Ulrich nearly had what else was mixed into his inheritance. Something that made him resemble... No, it was gone again.

"Well," Alina's father said, once he had a handle on his fear, "I thank you once again. I take it that you are travelling through the area?"

"That they are and we might be wise to join them on their travels," Yaga Tuf said. Her son-in-law frowned at her but her daughter took a seat on the ankle of the china golem, beside the bottom step that lead up to the hut upon its back, pulling Alina down to sit beside her.

Yaga Tuf turned to look at the head of the hut on legs.

"We need a kettle now," she told it, "Hot as you can make it."

It cluck at her and half closed its eyes, making muffled noises in its throat then it curved its head round to lay its chin on the ground and opened its beak. On its tongue sat not only a steaming kettle but also a tea pot and a collection of tea cups and mugs.

"Right," Ulrich nodded slowly, "I did not expect that."

"This house has many surprises," Alina's father smiled, "I'm not entirely sure any one save its creator knows them all. I'm Altan by the way. I don't think we had time for introductions."

"Ulrich," Ulrich took his hand and shook it, suppressing a wince. The man's grip was strong. "Thorian, Kaelin, Estella. Quenril, Tasnar and Sabal. The gentleman on the cyclopean dragon is Jeremiah and our large companion in the river is Tikrumpdel."

"Tikrumpdel?" Altan raised an eyebrow as he looked as the dark red dragon, lazing in the water, "The Tikrumpdel? My grandmother told me stories about him."

"I am afraid the stories are a little out of date," Ulrich admitted.

"He was last seen nearly four hundred years ago," Altan said, still gazing at the lounging dragon, "Even some of the younger elves have half a mind about whether or not he was real."

Tikrumpdel turned his head to peer at the ones discussing him. After a moment he lifted his head, peering more closely. There was something about this new human he recognised, something similar to someone he had known before he had gone into hibernation. He frowned, trying to dig the memory out of where it was hiding. He wasn't the only one peering.

Estella creped closer to the staff that Altan had flown to them on. It had stood itself upright as it had been left to its own devices and hovered there, waiting for physics to follow it, rather than it follow physics. Estella peered more closely at it. It peered back. It had no eyes to peer with but she could feel it looking back at her.

"You're talisman wood, aren't you?" Estella whispered. It did not reply but her talismans started chirruping and dancing through the air around it, daring to perch on it and then spin away, their thrilling voices sounding like laughter.

"Well I've never seen that before," Altan noted, "I didn't know he liked to play."

"Let them play," Yaga Tuf stated, "We have more important things to talk about." She finished pouring out the cups of tea and Alina carried the tray round, offering them all one. She left one the tray for Jeremiah but Nanny Tatters stayed resolutely on the other side of the river. Yaga Tuf took her place perched on the steps that led up to her house, Alina sitting to one side, sandwiched between her mother and father on the house's ankle. The house held still, listening in as Yaga Tuf gestured for them to seat themselves on the turf. Without discussing it they formed a loose semi circle before her.

"Here's the way I see it," Yaga Tuf stated, "The young man who should have been staying at Alina's side declined the chance most forceable. He has paid the price for that. He could have just said no and walked away. It would have not been pleasant for Alina, as well I know but he took it one step further than that, trying to erase what he saw as his mistake from the world. Why? Well who knows how the minds of some work? I have my suspicions but we will not be ever asking him to say, seeing that Alina's great aunt put pay to his efforts. That leaves us in a very... delicate situation. Despite the evidence there on Alina's neck the villagers are going to blame us for what has happened to that young man." She paused and sniffed at that. Alina's mother held her hand tight, her mouth a flat line. "Now we can either try and stay here and weather out the storm but I, for one, do not think that this will be a healthy place for the baby."

Estella nodded, her suspicions confirmed as Alina bowed her head. Well, Alina wasn't the first and neither would she be the last. For some reason, when these things happened it was nearly always the mother who was blamed and not the father. Anyone would think that a woman could start a new life by herself and just involved the man as a side note.

"Now these good people need guides to get them through the mountains within the time limit they have," Yaga Tuf continued, "Seeing as their efforts might just put a stop to the disruptions that are happening to the ley lines I am willing to help them. What say you all?" She looked at her family.

Alina's mum sighed, her eyes down cast and smoky, the grey of them marred and uneven.

"I don't like it," she said, "We built a good thing here, we built a good home. I met my husband here. I thought we were welcome. Now I wonder if we were just useful, if we were just easy to have around. We thought that being liked was being safe."

Alina bowed her head again and began to cry, silent tears that rolled and dripped. Her father put his arm over her shoulder and gave her a gentle squeeze. If anything it made her cry harder.

"Now I think that being liked made us just easy to use," Alina's mother continued, a hardness growing within her gaze, "We made ourselves fit what these people need from us and that made us easy to be used. Used to make life more comfortable, more pleasant, more fun. Only now there is a price tag attached to that pleasure, that fun and they don't want to pay. It appears being liked is a fragile currency and now we are bankrupt because we asked for something back, we set a boundary and asked to be respected, seen for our souls and not just our bodies, not just how useful we can be. " She paused and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. "I will not see my daughter and her child pay the price for no longer being the nice one where it is easy to forget she is human too. I will go."

Yaga Tuf nodded and looked to her son-in-law as he held up his daughter.

"My family comes from a world of witch hunters," he stated, face hard and older looking. Tikrumpdel tilted his head. He knew that he knew this one but the name wouldn't come into focus. He sank back, chewing it over.

"I know how this will play out," Altan continued, "The flock turns on its guardian when the guardian is no longer convenient, no longer conforming to the little space they were allowed to lay down and call their own. I will need to fetch my tools from my workshop. I will not leave the gifts my grandfather worked and sweated to provide for his son, my father, for some half wit to use and break and discard as if they were just things, just as I will not allow my daughter to be a thing in someone's eyes."

Yaga Tuf nodded again and turned to the King's Special.

"It is decided," she nodded, "We will go with you as your guides and seeking our own new place in doing so."

"As I said," Altan stood, "I want to retrieve my tools before we leave."

"We can help with that," Thorian grinned, lacing his fingers and then pushing them outwards until the joints popped, "And if some people decide they want to play rough, well, I can play rough."

"Tell us what you need us to do," Ulrich stated, standing and setting his cup back on the tray. Yaga Tuf grinned and Ulrich suddenly understood where the horror stories had come from. Yaga Tuf was a witch who saw to doing what needed to be done, that didn't mean that she was nice. She had chosen to protect this place but the villagers had thought that just meant from the threats from the outside, they hadn't thought that she would protect them from the small minded, the baleful, the cowardly, those that would do a wrong thing and call it right and worse, warp the minds of their children over until they believed the same thing.

"I think that they need a little discipline on the way out," she said, grey eyes sparkling, "If nothing else it will discourage those that would follow us with either punishment or detainment on their minds."

Thorian grinned back at her, his tusks gleaming.

"I can manage that," he said.

"Sure, why not?" Ulrich said with more restraint, "The great tacticians do say to limit the living enemies you leave behind you."

"Maybe not that far," Yaga Tuf said, "I do not want anyone dead. Despite their resent behaviour, I do not believe that they had warranted that. After all if people are going to be killed for being stupid we'd have to kill nigh on the whole damn world. Besides dead people are not fun and I think this calls for some fun."

"Mother," her daughter admonished. Yaga Tuf laughed unashamedly.

"My dear," she smiled, "The whole world knows me as the wicked witch of the woods. Allow this old hag her moments of fun by playing up to what they think of me."

"I like the sounds of this," Thorian grinned, walking down to the river and seizing a drift wood log. He chose one of the branches and wrenched it off, bashing it on the rocks until all the rotten pieces flew off. He came back with it propped over his shoulder, Quenril flinching from the sight of a club guaranteed to give a few people a headache.

"Those of us who would like to may ride with us," Yaga Tuf invited and turned to walk up the steps to the walkway of her house.

"If you don't mind, I'll fly," Kaelin shook out her pinions.

"Of course," Yaga Tuf half turned to look at her, "I am not one to put the bird in the cage until it sings. Spread your wings, my dear, learn to fly while you have the chance."

She turned back to climbing the stairs, her house watching her and occasionally muttering 'whoop'! Ulrich and the others followed.

"You coming?" Ulrich called to Jeremiah as he reached the railings.

"I prefer my own transportation," Jeremiah folded his hands inside his sleeves, his face turned away from the sight.

"What's got up his robe?" Thorian asked as Ulrich shrugged and stepped up on to the walkway.

"No idea," Ulrich shrugged.

"Probably the sight of three women of power, who are unafraid to stand proud and tell the world 'it's your problem that you don't like us being here, deal with it'," Estella stated, "That and the fact that there is a man strong enough to not be frightened by that power. Jealousy is a compliment disguised as judgement. When they can't control you, they try to discredit you, when they can't match your power, they mock your power but all the time they crave to have a drop of that might, the stuff they pretend to hate because they know in a month on Moondays they'll never be worthy of it."

Yaga Tuf turned sharply to look at her.

"Are you sure you are not one of us my dear?" she questioned. Estella smiled and held out a hand. The red cardinal flew to her fingers and sang a liquid trill.

"I maybe," she smiled.

"Maybe indeed," Altan smiled, holding out his hand. His staff flew to it with a solid smack. He held it like a quarterstaff and not a walking aid, something of a manner of a wizard in his stance. Once again Ulrich almost, almost knew what the extra in Altan's heritage was but it slipped away once more. "I have not seen such detailed beings made in the wood before. Just how did you grow them?"

"Grow them?" Estella asked as she followed up the staircase, "I carved them. I am surprised that you quickened the wood while it was still in its raw state."

"Not I," Altan stated, twirling the staff, "This was my grandfather's work, made out of grief and pain and brokenness, made when he realised that there are some things that cannot be fix and some times we can love someone with our whole beings only to find what we thought we had was just an illusion. He did say, though, that what he learnt, later, was that when your dreams run out of your fingers like dust then your hands are left empty to find another dream."

"That sounds like quite a tale," Ulrich observed as he bowed to Yaga Tuf for opening the door for him, "Perhaps sometime you could tell it to us. Now I'm sorry that with so many of us that we are going to make your house some what... crowd... ed..." He trailed off as he entered the house and had to remember to stand aside for the others to follow him in.

 "Wow," Thorian  noted as he followed the three Ash Elves in.

The hut of Yaga Tuf was larger on the inside than it was on the outside, light streaming in through windows that were some how bigger on the inside than they were on the outside. The walls where smooth and white, broken by doors that should lead only to sheer drops, the domed roof at a comfortable height above them, bundles of dried herbs hanging from hooks drilled into the ceiling along with strings of sausages, skeins of wool and flax and dyed thread, several sacks of grain and plaits of onions and garlic.

The furniture, in comfortable worked wood, was curved to fit the walls of the room and the heavy table sat solid in the middle of the room, its legs apparently growing out of the floor. It wasn't the only thing growing. Every where around the room, growing directly out of the walls where plants, some flowering, some leafy, some good to eat and ones higher up which would be dangerous if not prepared properly. In some places you could barely see the white clay.

"I wonder what that is for," Tasnar peered at the edge of the table, where the wood had been raised up as a sort of lip. Quenril looked around and saw that all the work surfaces had a similar lip to their edge.

"You'll see," Alina's mother guided her daughter to a chair and sat her down, setting about unwrapping and cleaning her throat.

"I also notice you have no fire," Ulrich looked around, "May I ask how you kept the place warm in the winter?"

Altan laughter and strode over to a door in the curve of the wall beside a big, black box of iron that seemed to be studded with lots of doors that were bolted shut. The door opened to reveal a wood room that should have been physically impossible. He grabbed a couple of pieces and bolted the door shut, swiftly going to the largest, central door of the black box. He unbolted the door and opened it to reveal a smouldering fire. He pushed the pieces of wood in and bolted the door shut again, opening up a little grill below it. After a while the warmth started rising from the black box and he set a pan in one of the holes on the top of the contraption while his wife fetched down herbs and roots from the ceiling bundles.

The King's Special suddenly stumbled as the whole room lurched, Yaga Tuf's house getting to its feet. As it started walking the room tilted slightly from side to side, like a ship on the sea, making anything on the side boards slid slightly back and forth.

"Mother always did say the only problem with this house was that you had to put the fire out before it could move," Altan's wife smiled, "My husband was clever enough to fix that problem. One of the reasons I married him."

Altan looked affectional at his wife.

"A man of many talents," Ulrich complimented, "But forgive me, my good lady, but I fear that I did not catch your name. May I know it?"

"How rude of me," Altan slapped his forehead, "People, may I introduce my wife, Milena."

She bobbed a curtseyed as Yaga Tuf came through the door but left it open, kicking a wedge into place behind her.

"No need to shut out the fresh air," she stated, "That and it would rude to shut out the rest of your friends. Now, unfortunately we are not going to have room enough for all of you to sleep indoors, but the vanes of the stairways form a fair shelter from the rain and you'll be surprised how long the heat radiates from this crockery pot after the sun goes down."

"Whoop!" said crockery pot protested. Yaga Tuf smiled and chuckled.

"Now, let's see to that throat of yours," she sobered. Alina closed her eyes and tilted her head back to allow them to unbind the scarf. The bruises where worse than they had been the day before.

It was not long after Yaga Tuf had finished cleaning her grand daughter's skin when the house came to a rocking halt. Milena stepped out on to the balcony formed by the lowest walk way.

"I can see the smoke columns from the village," she reported, stepping back into the house.

"As well you might," Yaga Tuf sniffed. Thorian looked out of the window at the river sliding by down below.

"Why we stopping here?" he asked.

"I need to talk with my sister," Yaga Tuf busied herself gathering some bread and honeyed treats, some fragrant herbs and smoked sausage, "And Alina needs to say her thank yous."

Alina did not look happy about this prospect, hands gripping the arms of the chair harder than they had done when Yaga Tuf had been washing her neck.

"It will be alright," Thorian patted her shoulder, "We'll be safe, Ulrich will see to that."

"And just what am I being volunteered for?" Ulrich demanded, "And more to the point why?"

"Well," Thorian sniffed, "You are the one with all the people who are willing to follow you about and serve you. You have Quenril, Tasnar and Sabal, as well as Marmaduke." He nodded to the automaton where it was stood in the corner. Marmaduke inclined his head back with a slight grinding noise. "Not to mention those two giant bugs, Peter and Weatherall, who are picking through the garden outside. You also talked Estella and Valodrael to work with us so you are the one who keeps getting us new friends. I don't seem to have the knack for it."

"Well I do suppose that I am a hero," Ulrich smiled, striking a posse, "A man among men."

Estella rolled her eyes, noticing Milena doing the same. Kaelin didn't bother with the eye roll, looking totally bored inside. Yaga Tuf smiled indulgently, a mother faced with her errant, overly enthusiastic son.

"Aye meant to big you up," Thorian protested, "Not grow your ego! Its big enough already, it's bigger than this house. I'll not do that again."

Altan and Milena looked from on to the other.

"I thought you were friends," Altan said slowly.

"They are," Estella assured, "But they are the sort of friends that take the mick out of each other just about all the time. About the only one who can't take a joke is the priest with the one eyed dragon."

"Yeah, well that's because he's a selfish, murderous basket who has issues with any one who doesn't bow down and worship both him and his god," Kaelin said and then grunted. Something had flickered in the corner of her eye and it had looked unpleasantly like the god of a certain over weight priest.

Yaga Tuf banged her stick on the floor and snapped a stream of words, fingers flicking a pinch of crumbled herbs into the air. Kaelin jerked and then breathed easier.

"Thank you," she said, "I don't know what you just did but..." Her tongue was stilled as Yaga Tuf ceased her chin and glared at her face.

"You've been marked," she stated, stepping back as she released Kaelin. She glared at Thorian and Estella but stopped once again at Ulrich.

"You," she stated, "He's marked you as well."

"After I was injured by a werewolf slash," Ulrich admitted, tugging down his collar to show where the scar traced over his collar bone, "I have been trying to find if there is a god that might be able to counter his grip."

"Not likely," Yaga Tuf crabbed her mouth, shaking her head, "You need to be careful around him and if you can find a god that is willing to listen to you then believe in them, believe with all your heart and all your mind and all your soul. The god your priest is worshipping is not one that should be trusted. He would have the whole world for himself and even then it would not be good enough. Nothing was ever good enough for that one."

"Could that be..." Milena hesitated, "Could that be what has been bending the ley lines out of alignment?" 

"If he is worshipping one of the judgemental gods then surely then that is a possibly," Altan looked between his wife and his mother-in-law but Yaga Tuf shook her head.

"No," she stated, "What ever is affecting the ley lines is something not mortal but not a god either. Whatever is touching the ley lines is something that crawls through the caves of madness and ambition. That is a darkness all its own and one that will have to be dealt with in its own time. Now turn, time to go and visit my sister." She turned to the door as the hut sank to the floor.

They walked down the wing vanes to the forest floor, the thick layer of pine needles muffling their foot steps as they walked between the trunks of the trees, pushing passed the branches of the species that had foliage lower down the trunks than most. The sound of the river became loader and then a band of trees of a lighter green came into view. The small rounded leaves of honeyberry trees surrounded a forest gale were the river had filled a deep depression in the ground, creating a pool of dark, still water bordered by whispering reeds and sedge grasses. There was a broad mossy band of grass between the water and the trees that cast their fluttering shade over the water. It looked, like the sort of place a young woman and her sweetheart would meet to be away from parental eyes.

Thorian looked around, scratching his ear, wondering why they were here. There was a rustle and Nanny Tatters pushed her front half through the ring of trees on the opposite bank, looking down into the water, her single huge eye blinking and winking as she gazed at her reflection. Jeremiah smacked her one as she threatened to tip him off and she levelled her head out so he could sit comfortably.

Ulrich frowned as he looked around. It should have been a pleasant place, it should have been the sort of spot where an artist set up his easel to sketch the young lovers as they strolled by but there was just something slightly off about the atmosphere of the place, a slight chill in the air, a slight shadowing to the pool that was darker than it should have been.

Kaelin's nose was working over time and the hair at the nap of her neck was rising. There was something here, she could sense it, she could feel it. There was something here and it was watching them all of them. Her lip started lifting as she glared round, fingers spread wide, claws pushing through her finger tips. She knew she was right the moment Tikrumpdel came crawling up the river and froze at the edge of the pool before pushing himself back a little. She backed away, fighting not to snarl as Yaga Tuf and her family gathered at the edge of the water. Someone brushed Kaelin's arm. Ulrich stepped passed her towards the water.

"What are you doing?" she hissed come growled at him, human and wolf mixing in her throat.

Ulrich didn't reply, peering down into the water.

Someone was looking up at him. He blinked.

She was beautiful, jet black hair drifting in the current, eyes like a cloudy day just below the surface of the water. Her lips, plump and kissable, parted in a smile that was dazzling. Ulrich felt his weight shift, trying to answer the siren call of that face but part of him, a part that knew when not to push his luck, when to reign in his need to be reckless, fought back.

"My lord?" Quenril called, "Sir Ulrich? Is something the matter?"

Ulrich remembered that searing kiss at the gates of the Snake Clan Hold and took the step but he stepped back.

"That's enough sister," Yaga Tuf smacked the surface of the water with her staff, sending ripples chasing across the pool, shattering the image, "He is not on the menu. None of them are." Her voice was hard and authoritarian.

 "Menu?" Ulrich demanded, "What menu?"

The surface of the pool, eight feet out from the bank bubbled and surged, splashing and seething. The thing rose out of that disturbance. Ulrich backed further away from the edge of the bank.

She, for it was most definitely a she, was clad in a trailing gown of a creamy cloth that was stained and streaked with water damage and sediment, water weeds trailing from her sleeves and tangled in her hair. Her face was still beautiful but it was also terrible, beaded with water, waxy with death but still moving, still blinking, still alive in some horrible way, her gaze glassy and fixed. When her lips parted in a smile it was no longer the smile of a joyous, welcoming lover but rather the grin of a predator sighting its prey. A sound bubbled and popped in her throat as she stared at Ulrich.

"Oy Ulrich," Thorian grinned, "Looks like you have a new girlfriend."

She smiled at Ulrich again and he felt again that awful compulsion to step into the pool, to walk into her arms.

"I am taken," he held up his hands, forcing the words out around the block in his throat, "I am taken and I'm going over there now." With that he turned his back on what ever the Perdition that thing was and walked right back up to the tree line, making sure Quenril and the others were between him and it before he turned back round. He was sweating cobs and didn't want to admit it.

"You're brave one," Thorian noted, eyebrows raised. Orc kin that he was, he still knew that there were some things that you should not turn your back upon and this water women fitted the bill if anything he ever saw did. Oh he'd seen dead things that ought to know better than to get up and walk around again but this one? He wasn't sure that his sword would actually even do any damage or whether she'd grin as she caught the blade and then use it to tug him into the water.

 "Either brave or stupid," Ulrich managed to grin but he still smelt like a man ready to bolt to Kaelin's nose, "There is but the narrow edge of the coin between the two."

"There are not many who can take a step back once they have seen my sister," Yaga Tuf seemed to be impressed by his refusal, "Usually men see her and stop thinking."

"As I said," Ulrich smiled and bowed his head in respect to Yaga Tuf's water weed wearing sister, "I am already spoken for and my good lady would be extremely upset if I played her false."

"That has never stopped men before now," Yaga Tuf observed.

"Young men tend to be flighty creatures," Ulrich admitted.

"Not just young men," Yaga Tuf snorted, "Old men who should know better than to stray from hearth and home are some of the worse."

The water woman drifted closer to the bank,  her head tilted over slightly, her lips parted in puzzlement.

"Good lady of the lake," Ulrich bowed, "As much as you are radiant beyond all compare I must regretfully decline the offer of your affection, tempting though it is. I will not betray my lady's trust in me."

"Not to mention the fact that her brother's would skin you alive if you did," Kaelin muttered.

Ulrich bowed to hide his frown. Was Kaelin trying to get him killed? The water women drifted back from the bank, apparently impressed with Ulrich's loyalty and willing to leave him alone for it. She turned her waxy face to Yaga Tuf.

"How are you keeping sister?" Yaga Tuf asked. The water woman smiled terribly, her grey eyes turning black, her teeth suddenly sharp. She made no sound.

"I thought as much," Yaga Tuf stated, "Did you drag him in or did Alina make him fall?" The water woman lift a hand and tilted it back and forth.

"Some and some, huh," Yaga Tuf leaned on her staff.

"When.." Alina whispered, "When... he started yelling and shouting... I remembered you saying that if I was ever in trouble then I should get in the water. I was running to the river when he grabbed me and started... Started..." She put a hand to her bruised neck. Her terrible great aunt smiled at that, water trailing from the corners of her mouth, miming grabbing and pulling.

"You grabbed me?" Alina went paled, "I thought that... that I imagined that. I just remember something pulling me over backwards and hitting the water... and he... he still had... his hands..."

She started crying again, tears that trailed and trickled, as she shook.

"Well if he wasn't so damned determined to finish the job then he wouldn't have wound up as fish bait," Yaga Tuf said, the 'own damned fault' unsaid. It didn't have to be said. Alina drew a sharp breath and stepped forward, laying out the bundle of bread and other treats right on the edge of the water. The water woman gestured and a wave rose out of the river, washing the offering into the stream but they sank much faster than they should have done, pulled down by something other than the flow of the water.

"We are moving on," Yaga Tuf stated, cutting to the chase of what they were there for, "It has been decided that what we thought was respect was being useful, that we were only liked while we were useful. We were so busy holding up everyone else here, making sure life went right, turning ourselves into what they needed that now they don't want to give when we need something in return."

Alina looked away, shame and anger chasing themselves over her face. Estella stepped over and took her hand. She knew too well that feeling, the feeling of shame for what had been done to her and the anger that she felt that shame. The shame that she had been fooled, the anger that she had been fooled over and over again. The monster had been invited inside her home by another and yet she was the one shamed. Alina gripped her fingers back and straightened her spine. She had believed it to be love. Why should she be the one shamed for finding out the hard way it was a lie?

In the pool, Yaga Tuf's sister inclined her head as she accepted the family's decision to level so soon.

"Do you want to come?" Yaga Tuf asked bluntly. The old witch of the mountains had obviously reached that age when she was going to say what she thought in the shortest and bluntest way possible. Small talk was not her forte any longer. Kaelin liked that.

The water woman smiled again, a more pleasant smile and nodded. Yaga Tuf smiled back and produced a glass jar with a lid that was held on by wires that interlocked to hold it shut. She set it down on the edge of the water and stepped back. The water woman drifted forward, the pool bubbling and surging. She bent and dipped the fingers of one hand into the open mouth of the jar. She liquefied, turning into a column of blue green water that poured into the jar, some how fitting its huge mass into the jam jar sized vessel. The last of it landed in the jar with a splash.

Yaga Tuf bend down and snapped the lid shut, sweeping it up.

Jeremiah ground his teeth as he looked at the jar. The water within it was unnaturally black as it a piece of the ocean from the depths were the sightless white eyed things swam had been drawn up to the surface and somehow remained as lightless and cold as it had been down in the depths of the abyss. He knew it was unnatural, as unnatural as the crone who held it, her grey eyes challenging and condemning in equal measure. He clenched his fingers and hid his fists within his sleeve.

Ulrich frowned as Yaga Tuf turned to give the jar to Milena and instruct her as to where she wanted it stored. The black water in the jar didn't seem to be black because it was full of sediment and he had the feeling that something was wanting him through the glass walls.

Kaelin narrowed her eyes. The water in the jar was dark and deep but she could see something inside the jar hovering near the centre of the water mass. She peered and then the face of the water woman was there right against the glass, her huge grey eyes dark and cold, water weed trailing down her forehead. The water woman smiled, a cruel smile and pressed a finger to her lips. Kaelin pressed her lips together and the water women laughter soundlessly before her face turned and she dissolved into the black water around her. Kaelin rubbed the back of her neck to lay the hackles flat again.

Tikrumpdel lowered his snout towards the surface of the pool, sniffing and snuffling at the water, brows wrinkled with puzzlement.

"Is it safe for me to go through now?" he asked.

"Aye," Yaga Tuf nodded, "And thank you for waiting."

"Don't mention it," Tikrumpdel shrugged expansively, "I'll give respect where respect is due." He stepped into pool and the water sloshed over their shoes as it rose up over the bank. The river gurgled and gulped as for a moment it ran backwards to fill the hollow back up as Tikrumpdel hauled himself up and out on the other side. Yaga Tuf also started pacing down the embankment, thumping along with her staff.

"The village is not far now," she stated, "We'll be seeing the road soon. Milena, you are to take the house round to the north and wait for us on the road to the mountains. Altan, you pack up your smithy and meet us there. Alina, you are with me. You, Estella isn't it? If you would go with Alina to her mother's house to pick up what is important once things start it would be appreciated, especially if your dragon friend can make sure nothing untoward happens to her."

"Sure, I..." Estella stopped, "You know about Valodrael?"

"Of course I know," Yaga Tuf smiled, "Wouldn't be much of a witch if I couldn't see what is as plain as the nose on my face. I'm not sure that I approve of him as of yet, he smells too much of the thing that is bending the ley lines out of order but that is not all he smells of so I'll keep my judgement until later."

"Are you not taking a great risk with your grand daughter's life then?" Jeremiah called, "If he smells of what is damaging the ley lines what is to say he won't damage your grand child?"

"He hasn't so far and he had two days in which he could have done so with out me being any the wiser to what he had done," Yaga Tuf called back, "I would have thought a great man of learning like yourself could use logic on occasion." Her tone was bland and her expression mild but Jeremiah turned away with a face of thunder and glared at a tree until it started dropping pine needles in self defence.

"What do you mean when things get started?" Thorian asked with a frown.

"Oh there is going to be some push back when we get to the village," Yaga Tuf thumped along as Milena and Altan turned back to collect the walking hut, "I am quite sure that things will start off with a bang at some point. The people of the village will find that their neglect in the raising their sons is going to bite them and rather than sitting down and having a long hard look in the mirror they will try and blame someone else for their troubles. People are always people and most of them are stupid and selfish. Or selfish and stupid, either way round."

"So I might get to use this?" Thorian grinned tapping his club on his shoulder.

"Well you might," Yaga Tuf agreed, "But I want no killing. If we kill people for being stupid, we'd have to kill the whole world. However, if your dragon friends want to cull their herds a little then they are welcome. My family has been the source of their prosperity for years, ha, decades now and the attempted murder of my grand daughter was our thanks. It is time they are reminded of the anger of the Witch of the Mountains. If they won't listen to kind words or firm words then the birch stick will come out of the cupboard."

"I see," Ulrich smiled as he sauntered along, hands in his pockets, "Old reliable it is."

"I'm wondering how big their herds are," Tikrumpdel rumbled as he pulled himself up the river, smoke curling from the corners of his mouth, the water shivering with his voice.

"Now I know that live stock is always such a temptation for dragons," Ulrich called, "But just remember that you want to lose some of the extra weight so best not to forget about the diet."

Tikrumpdel growled and then hit a gravel bar that he had to galumph over.

"Oh alright," he grumbled as he splashed into the the deeper water behind it, "I'll try and keep it down, maybe just one or two."

"Well you can always keep in mind that if you do then it will make that mountain thunderer taste even better when you finally get it," Ulrich suggested as the trees began to thin out again.

"That is true," Tikrumpdel admitted as he pulled himself along, the river gurgling and muttering in protest, its gravel bottom sluffing off the last shreds of badly shed scales from Tikrumpdel's belly.

The King's Special and their allies curved away from the river as Yaga Tuf guided them towards the logging road that lead in and out of the forest. Tikrumpdel stayed with the river, confident that it would lead him to the village in the end.

Moseying along the road at the pace set by Yaga Tuf's staff, Ulrich saw the walking hut emerge from the forest and begin picking its way around the south end of the fields that now replace the trees. The out lying farm houses were squat but sturdy buildings, their walls painted red, the roofs steeply pitched almost to the ground, already piled high to the eves with split logs. Small windows up high in the apex of the roofs revealed that they were actually two storey. In the yards chickens clucked while pigs rooted in sties.

"Yeap, those are pigs," Ulrich heard Estella mutter and he glanced at her to see a look of interest crossing her face, an expression he was fairly sure was not hers but rather her passenger.

As they walked further, people in the fields started lifting their heads and looking. Some were curious, some where hostile, glaring at the old witch as she thumped along at the front with her staff, Alina trailing a step behind her. Alina would flinch from people's gazes and then straighten her spine and lift her chin, displaying the bruises that lined her neck. Estella saw the knowing look enter the eyes of a few of the women. Some were judgement, the expressions saying 'it's her own fault' speaking louder than words but there were some, some who's bodies slumped with exhaustion, whose broods of sons scampered around their feet while their daughters worked at the cooking and the cleaning, who's eyes saw and understood and accepted the truth. There were several families where the menfolk came hurrying from the field to stand at their women's sides as their children watched the strangers walk on by.

"Stupid boy," Kaelin's sharp ears heard one of them say, "Stupid, stupid boy. He's brought judgement on us that is for sure."

As they got closer to the village the faces were more and more the judgemental kind but Alina had shed shame now and was walking tall, with her injuries on show. That and after glaring at her, the judgemental twerps were then looking towards the river. What they saw there immediately caused them to turn tail and dash back into their houses, barring the door and putting up the shutters. Ulrich was trying not to grin, he really was trying.

As they reached the village proper a plump man in rich clothes and rings stood in their way. Clustered around him the village guards in their wool arming doublets and tin pot helmets handled their pole arms nervously, looking first at Yaga Tuf, then at the King's Special and then at the dragon wallowing in the river.

Yaga Tuf's staff thumped down in the dust with a unmoving  finality that made several village guards lick their lips and shift nervously.

"Yaga Tuf, witch of the mountains," the mayor proclaimed but did not step forward, "You are disturbing the peace. You are commanded to go back to your place in the wilds and stay there. As for that... personage beside you, she is to be taken into custody to answer for the disappearance of Jonus Volkov."

"I'll answer right now," Alina rasped, "I asked Jonus to commit to what he had promised me, to build us a home and earn us a place in the village on the foundation I would build him. He refused. I did not ask for much, I did not chose a first son from a family here because I knew that none of the families would accept that, despite the fact that it was their son's choice to ask me. I was realistic, I refused those I knew I would not be allowed to have. Jonus, Jonus I thought I would be allowed to have." Her voice faltered as tears came to her eyes but she did not bow. "He refused. He refused and did this, trying to erase me." Her finger jabbed at her throat. "We both went into the river. I survived because of the kindness of these strangers. If Jonus has not returned that is his affair, not mine."

"So you admit to the seduction and murdered of Jonus Volkov," the mayor had heard only what he had wanted to hear, "Take her." Several guards fidgeted but they went to take a step forwards.

Yaga Tuf's staff thumped down in the dust. The guards froze.

"Andrej," Yaga Tuf stated, her stare bracketing a young guard who was suddenly sweating cobs, "My daughter dragged you from your dame's belly after a thirty six hour labour. Thanks to her you both survived.  Filip, your wife swears that she never had an easy labour before Milena came to this village. Dusan, again, you would have died even if your mother had survived, the cord wrapped around your neck twice as you fought your way out into the world. Milena has seen to half of your births and helped the wives of the rest of you deliver your sprogs into the world and this is how you thank her?"

"Casimir Volkov is a powerful man..." one of the guards muttered.

"Casimir Volkov  buys his power with bits of metal," Yaga Tuf spat, "When has he fed you? When has he nursed you? When has he helped pull new life into the world? And when, for that matter has his son? How many of you have taken the punches from his eldest son? How many of you have been cheated out of your earnings by his second son? How many of you are honestly surprised that the youngest of the brood turned out to have a darkness in his soul that would stoop to murder when he was thwarted?"

Her voice carried, people in the village square behind the mayor looking at one another guiltily. Several maidens looked at Alina, nodded to her and then turned walked away, ignoring their family's protests, some yanking themselves free of parental grips to do so. A couple of mothers also turned and hustled their children away, ignoring any reprimand from husbands, although one or two husbands went with them.

"As for my son-in-law," Yaga Tuf was on a roll and was not going to be stopped, stepping forward as the mayor stepped back, the thump of her staff a judgement, "He has made your ploughs, he has made your nails, he has shod your horses, he has physicked those horses when they have become ill and this is how you repay him? Well, no more. It is painfully obvious that we cannot rely on being the kind ones, being the ones you rely on to cure your ills, clear your heads, to comfort you when you were broken. No more. We are leaving this place and we won't be coming back."

"You... you can't do that!" the mayor protested, his voice a sudden squeak, "They are their own people, you can't order them..."

"Who do you think made the decision, you half witted ninny-hammer?" Yaga Tuf exploded, "The only reason I'm the one delivering the message is that neither of them want to see you ugly faces ever again!"

"They can't leave!" the mayor squealed.

"They can, they will and they are," Yaga Tuf stated, a dry old tree that defied the farmer's axe to break it, her roots dug that deep into the ground that you'd have to break the world to up root her.

"But they... they..." his brain seemed to have ground to a halt on the fact that two of the most important people in the village were upping sticks and leaving. "They can't leave! I won't allow it! What are people going to do if they can't get their tools repaired?"

"I would say that perhaps you'll have to pay your neighbours to see if they'd be willing to sell you any of theirs," Ulrich drew his sword and gazed down the length of the blade before flipping it in his hand, passing it round behind his back and catching it in his other hand.

"What?" the Mayor blurted.

"You're neighbours," Ulrich repeated, with slight smile, sending his sword back the other way in a reversal of his previous trick, "I assume that if this Casimir Volkov is as powerful as these guards say it is because he trades with the outside world. Therefore, the conclusion is that what you need in the way of metalwork you are going to have the buy in from now on." He held his sword in the up right position and put the finger of his other hand on the tip. Like he had suspected, the blade was flexible, whippy almost.

"We can't do that!" the mayor gasped, "It will beggar us."

"Well you see," Ulrich smiled, stepping forward as his finger bent the blade back a little more, "The thing with that, the thing with that is that it really does seem to be..." His finger let go, the sword blade snapping back with a satisfying tang. The mayor yelped as the flat of Ulrich's blade smacked him in the face, making his nose go crunch. "To be your problem."

"Why you..." the mayor straightened up, the red trailing from his nose. The guards hefted their weapons but there was a thump as the metal head of one of them smacked into the dust of the road.

"I won't be trying it on," Ulrich smiled, his sword batting the now headless pole away, "Not today. You see, we are professional adventures, we live for this sort of life. Making a mess of someone's day is just bread and butter to us and Yaga Tuf here has engaged our services. Therefore, it is our job to make a mess of you lot if you interfere with either her or her family, in whatever they try to do. Tell me, do you want to be made a mess of today? Is that really how you want to go to bed tonight?"

Behind him Thorian grinned and stepped forward, lifting his club from his shoulder and smacking the thick end of it against his palm. The guard watched the motion of the club with the fascinated gaze of rabbits watching a weasel dance. It was unsurprising because what was a 'little club' to Thorian looked like a war ready skull cracker to a mere bunch of human guards.

Of course there is always those who carry their brain more in their biceps rather than in their skulls.

"You think you are tough guy, don't yar?" a local bruiser marched up. One look told Ulrich that some where close by was his gang of mates eggs him on as well as a will to impress the now humiliated mayor, "A big tough man with a sword? Get rid of that fancy piece of metal, what are you? A toffee nosed prig who hasn't ever earned anything, just stolen it from people who worked for it!"

"For your information, boy," Ulrich stated, "I am not a brigand and I am employed by the King of Portasia to bring justice to the likes of a young man who will take his fun out of a young woman and then turns to murder when the piper comes for his fee. But if you think you can take me on..."

Ulrich put his sword away and held his arms wide.

"When you think you are ready."

The young tough frowned, confuse and then lifted his knuckles. He came in blazing. Ulrich leaned back, leaned sideways, appearing to flinch away from the blows but it just made the young tough punch harder, lean further and... A grab, a twist, a yank and a knee applied to the appropriate place resulted in the young tough laying on the floor, moaning and holding on to himself.

"Don't you people have some where more important to be?" Ulrich asked the guards with a pleasant smile. They hesitated.

The ground suddenly shuddered, making everybody stumble and throw their arms out wide. There was a squeal of terror from the pig pens nearest the village, ringing out over the thumps and bangs of an extreme weight rippling over the turf. Tikrumpdel had given up waiting for the little people to finish their dicker and had decided to help himself. The pigs bawled in terror as his massive head loomed in their vision.

The guards looked at one another and charged towards  the threat to their pig supply, pole arms lifted high. Yelling and screaming they struck the massive dragon's sides, jabbing and stabbing. Tikrumpdel's scales deformed under the poking of their puny weapons, dimpling deep before bouncing back the moment they released the pressure. He grunted in barely an acknowledgement of their efforts and just keep galumphing towards the now screaming pig pen. The guards slashed and gouged with their weapons but again, Tikrumpdel's hard scales defeated the edges of their weapons while his layers of fat absorbed the energy and then bounced it back. There was a splintering crack as several pole arms gave up the fight as broke in the middle, then the squealing redoubled as Tikrumpdel's head plunged down and came up holding a plump sow who wriggled and squealing in the grip of his teeth. His teeth flexed and she fell silent as the crack from the back of her skull rang out. Tikrumpdel sucked in a couple of breaths and then the fire roared, a long tongue that licked heat across the sky and brought the smell of roasting pork. He flicked his head back and the spit roast pig vanished down his throat. He dipped his head again towards the pig herd that was trampling round and round the pens.

"My pigs!" the mayor screamed, red in the face but not charging forward to help.

"I'd say you are having a bad day," Estella noted in a friendly sorted of tone. The mayor stared at her in confusion, as if he truly hadn't seen her standing at Alina's side all this time, then his expression twisted into a glare that snarled. His hand whipped back to slap her with all his strength.

Thorian dived forward to intercept it but for the first time in ages his feet betrayed him, proving once again that he could be clumsy enough to have fallen on someone and nearly squashed them flat. The move that should have put him between the mayor and Estella instead sent him careering, head first into the water butt outside the door of the nearest house with a resounding crack that split the side of the butt from top to bottom.

"Ow!" Thorian said straightening up, rubbing the bump growing on his forehead, his front soaked with the content of the barrel, "That hurt." Behind him a gruelling, gruesome sucking, tearing , ripping sound oozed through the air.

The mayor looked up in horror as the dragon that had erupted out of Estella finished twisting into its solid form, supernova crawling across its hide, eyes the colour of dying stars glaring down at him from where it had him pinned to the ground. Valodrael snarled and the mayor went the colour of paste. Valodrael flicked open his wings, blocking the sight of the sun from his prey and then roared with full volume in the mayor's face, jaws gapping wide enough so the only thing the mayor could see was the black depths of Valodrael's throat. He went from pasty to a strange purplish colour and his lips went blue. Valodrael studied the man's twitching, gurgling face for a moment and then stepped aside, releasing the man's wrists. The mayor promptly clutched his chest and made gasping, gagging sounds as he twisted in the dirt. Valodrael nodded with satisfaction and looked about. Tikrumpdel was helping himself to yet more of the mayor's pig herd and he didn't feel up to challenging for a share, the first shocks of his condition rippling through his flesh, bringing with them the burning, stinging pain that promised to rapidly build to screaming agony within moments.

A not so distant lowing caught his ear, his void black face twisting in that direction, then a serial killer grin parted his lips. His tongue flicked forth once and then he bounded away, pain pushed aside for the moment with the promise of relief. The lowing of the cow herd grew louder.

The mayor writhed in the dust, face warped and twisted with pain.

"Oh heck!" Thorian gulped, "Oh help! We weren't supposed to kill anyone!" He looked around looking for someone to tell him what to do. There didn't seem to be anyone looking in his direction, Alina, Estella and Sabal having hurried off to clear out Milena's house, Kaelin heading towards the forge and the mayor was now going purple. Thorian rang out his ears trying to think of what to do. Then he remembered seeing someone once in a similar situation.

None too gently he grabbed the mayor's hands and shoved them out of the way. He put the heel of his hand where he reckoned the human heart was and locked his elbows. The mayor flopped and bucked like a landed fish.

Yaga Tuf stepped over and knelt by the mayor's side, feeling for the pulse in his neck.

"You can stop now," she told Thorian and then looked back at the mayor, "You really don't deserve this but I will not stoop to your level." She jammed the neck of a small bottle into his mouth. He gulped and gagged, sitting up to spit. He went to yell at Yaga Tuf and then clutched at his ribs.

"You'll need to get those bound," Yaga Tuf stood, "No heavy lifting for six weeks, take deep breaths regularly, no smoking and sleep sat upright for the first two weeks. And that is more than you deserve. Oh and if you don't want your ticker to play up again you need to take a walk around the boundary of the village once a day, especially if it rains. The gods are in the rain and you need to get out in their blessings more often. You coming?"

The last was addressed to Thorian.

"Coming where?" he asked with confusion.

"Further on, further up," she said with a smile and turned to stump through the village. She didn't seem to notice the panicked herd of cows that came stampeding towards them and indeed the cows parted to go round her as if she was a pillar of stone. Behind them Valodrael came bounding, a wicked grin on his face. He jumped, seeming to almost bounce off the wall of a house, landing in the road way ahead of the leaders of the panicked herd. The cows turned, swirling back into the village and he pounced, swelling large as he did so. The steer kicked its legs as it started sliding down his throat, the bulging swells of other unfortunates already rippling under his hide.

Yaga Tuf smiled to herself as the villagers joined the panicking, swirling mass, some trying to reach the herd only to falter and run as the ebony dragon came leaping in pursuit. She seemed to be more than little pleased with the chaos thus sewn.

Ulrich with Quenril and Tasnar following him approached Tikrumpdel as he flame scorched yet another pig. The guards had given up and run away, joining the villagers trying to stop the cows bolting for the hills, although that just made it easier for Valodrael to pick out the ones he wanted out of the herd.

"Well I'm not angry," Ulrich folded his arms and slowly shook his head, "But I am disappointed."

Tikrumpdel paused almost mid swallow, his eye rolling towards Ulrich. He finished his gulp and looked down at the pig pen, a guilty expression crossing his vast face.

"Was that more than two?" he asked, shuffling on his massive belly, "Oh. Oops."

Ulrich looked at the pig pens where the smallest and youngest of the herd huddled at the back, squealing and shrilling in terror. The village would be able to rebuild the herd but they would be stuck on a mostly vegetable diet for many a year, unless the father of Alina's problem was willing to open the purse strings and buy in new stock. Some how Ulrich doubted that he'd do that.

"Just a few more than two," he said out loud.

"Oh, oh dear," Tikrumpdel shuffled again, a wriggle that rippled down the length of his massive sides, "I... um... I'll just be over there."

He shuffled round and galumphed towards the edge of the town where the walking hut of Yaga Tuf stood, its head turning back and forth as it watched the chaos and discord unfold before it, Milena's expression, where she stood on the balcony, the long suffering face of a daughter flinching at her mother's excesses.

"It might be a good time for us to leave," Thorian jogged a couple of steps to catch up with Yaga Tuf.

"Oh why?" she asked, stumping along, her gaze fixed on where she was going.

"Because Jerry's decided to come to town," Thorian said. Yaga Tuf looked over her shoulder at his tone and saw the cyclopean head of Nanny Tatters wavering over the river as she stomped through it, water sheeting up on either side of her strides. Even Valodrael turned his head at that noise, the back legs of another struggling steer sliding down his capacious throat. He swallowed and stood still a moment as his meal settled and then he turned and bounded out of the village by the shortest way possible, circling to his left to meet up with Estella at the side of the walking hut as they loaded what belongings they had thought necessary to take from Milena's and Altan's cottage. Altan was arriving with Kaelin, Kaelin lugging several sack loads of tools, her face saying louder than words that she wondered how she had been talked into this, while Altan carried the anvil, his face red with the effort of it.

Yaga sniffed as she watched Nanny Tatters begin pacing into the village and then turned her face to where her family was waiting for her. She picked up her pace, stamping along.

If it had been confusion and chaos before in the village, now it was terror, terror of the silent kind, people stumbling to a halt as the crone dragon began pacing up the main street. Several people had the go sense to run back into their houses and bolt the doors. The cows could always be rounded up later, retrieved from the forest or new ones bred, what was coming to town now was not to be faced any time soon.

Jeremiah smiled down on the fools still standing in the streets, their gormless faces an act of worship for his god. So they should look when they saw true power blessing them with its presence. Nanny Tatters footsteps were surprisingly quite in the dust as she paced down the street, her single eye blinking and winking as she gazed down her nose at those around her. Jeremiah looked as well and considered the fact that they weren't really afraid enough yet. Smiling he started muttering and mumbling, fingers twitching in his sleeves as he prayer to his god.

The villagers, the ones who hadn't already sort shelter and therefore where out of his line of sight, screamed almost in a single voice as the shadows groaned and shrieked and came alive, writhing up off the floor, screeching through their lipless mouths, their eyes leprous growths in their faces. Impossibly lanky bodies and hands that left sickly white patches on what ever they touched, patches that faded only slowly in the sunlight.

Jeremiah smiled as Nanny Tatters paced forward and chaos exploded all around the pacing feet of his mount and then an idea struck him, one that was delicious in its irony. He muttered again praying to his god to add another dimension to the manifestation of his god's will.

The villager's screams broke up, becoming disjointed, fractured, split by sobs and moans as the shadow creatures took on new aspects. A mother sank to her knees, begging forgiveness from the shade of her son as his shadow stated over and over again how he had tried to make her happy, that he had tried to not love the other young man he had adored, how he had tried to be normal until he no longer could and had reached for the rope. A father sobbed, faced again with the shadow of a daughter he had driven out when she had been with child and not married. Husbands faced the imagines of the wives they had mistreated, wives faced the men they had been unfaithful to, dark family secrets came crawling into the light and several just fell down in a dead faint, unable to accept what they were seeing.

Jeremiah rode above it all, well pleased with the mess, the books in his pocket glowing warm and sweet. 

Yaga Tuf watched him come up to where her family and the King's Special waited for Nanny Tatters. Yaga nodded but it was the sort of nod that said she saw and understood.

"You think that they will blame my family for what you have done here today," she stated, "And you are right, some of them will. A lot of them will."

"And did you think that they wouldn't when you have proved yourself to be the Witch of the Mountain, an  unholy thing that should be hanged at the earliest opportunity?" Jeremiah asked with a smile.

"Am I?" she asked, "If I am then what are you? You worship the dark dragon god, he who was cast down and imprisoned in the God War. He would have smashed the world asunder for not being perfect enough so what does that make you for worshipping him?"

"And why would I believe the words of a witch when she rails against the judgement of the One True God?" Jeremiah asked sweetly, the books still glowing warm in his pocket.

"You won't and you won't," she stated amicably, "Not until its too late and then, well it will be everybody's problem so you had better hope that they are willing to help you put right what you put wrong. I know a mind that is a steel ball when I see it. My son-in-law's grandfather was forged by fear and pain but in the end he listened before it was too late for his soul. You?" She shook her head, "Nothing is going in there unless it is stuff you want to go in there. None so blind as those who don't want to see and part of what you don't see is that some of them, not many but some of them will sit tonight, having a long deep think about those they have hurt and those they have rejected and they are going to be having a long hard think about whether or not they really were justified so did you really do all the harm you wanted to?" She smiled slightly at his glowering frown.

"So which way are we going now?" Kaelin asked.

"That way," Yaga Tuf turned and pointed up the road that led deeper and higher into the mountains, "Further up, further in and then we will see if some can listen or not."

"Whoop!" her walking hut spoke as it rose to its feet and stepped out before them. They trailed after, Valodrael pacing along on their right, stretching his wings in the sun, enjoying being able to spend some time out of his host and talk to her face to face for a change. Estella smiled a laid a hand on his shoulder as they walked. Behind them Tikrumpdel made the ground temple as he galumphed along in bursts, his sides rippling as he flubbered along, grunting with the effort.

"All in all, I'd say that went rather well," Ulrich said to no one at all. A wagon wheel, slightly scorched and smoking, rolled passed them and clattered over on to its side.

"Everyone's a critic," Ulrich muttered. 

Draconnic Shenanigans - Episodes 39

Chapter Thirty Nine: Climbing Higher 

 

(Photo not mine, it is of Hang Son Doong (Mountain River Cave),

located in Vietnam's Phong Nha-Kẻ Bàng National Park)

 "Uncouth?" the Bag of Scolding muttered as it began to shuffle off across Tikrumpdel's back, "This group is the result of shame eating too much stupidity. I would talk to their mothers about their delinquent behavior but I don't speak goblin."

Thorian's hand snaked out and grabbed it. The Bag made a muffled noise of panic and then it was tucked most firmly under Thorian's knees. He wasn't quite sitting on it but neither was it going to go any where. It wilted.

"Where did yah think you were going any way?" Thorian asked, "The only way off these here dragon is in the water." 

The Bag of Scolding made an indelicate noise but offered no further reply. 

Ulrich glanced up from his book, then looked back down at the page.

"Quenril?" he called, "Could I have a word with you old chap?"

"What is it, Favored of my Sister?" Quenril inquired as he walked across Tikrumpdel's springy back to kneel beside Ulrich.

"You don't need the long titles with me, old chap," Ulrich smiled, "You should know by now that I'm not that big on formalities."

"I am aware that you are not as ambiguous as many of our kind," Quenril admitted, pushing the hat that the dwergs had made him back on his head, "It seems to me that it is because you feel secure enough in your own abilities that you don't feel the need to constantly remind others of your position but it is uncomfortable for me to address so important a personage as my Sister's chosen without some form of formal title."

"You could try Sir," Ulrich suggested.

"Sir?" Quenril frowned.

"It is the title for a respected male in human society," Ulrich explained, "I know it is very short compared with the titles of the Elvish people but I think that is because we have such short life spans compared with the Elves. We are aware that we don't have as much time so we shorten even our language to try and squeeze as much as we can into what time we get to have."

"Are human lifespans naturally so short?" Quenril asked.

"Compared to what?" Ulrich asked. Quenril shifted uncomfortable, scratching the side of his neck.

"Previously," he admitted, "The only real contact that I have had with humans were the slaves in the Snake Clan citadel. It is one of the reasons that my kin and I were chosen to accompany you and be your guardians, we had perfected our use of the human tongue to get the most work out of the slaves."

"That surprises me," Ulrich admitted after amount, "You do not strike me as the slave driver sort."

"I wasn't very good at it," Quenril admitted, "The other slave handlers said that I was too soft, too unwilling to use pain as a motivator but I had found that being able to speak their tongue, to use words as my weapons often gained similar results and the slaves under my control didn't wear out so fast."

"Ah," Ulrich nodded, "Hence why you were sent with your sister to the temple to witness the hatching of the... dragon?"

"Ceann Mor," Quenril inclined his head.

"Yes, Ceann Mor," Ulrich agreed, "You were the misfits that no one would care about if you didn't come back. Considering how important Ceann Mor is to your people why didn't you send your best?"

Quenril looked down, avoiding Ulrich's gaze but Ulrich waited. Quenril couldn't avoid a direct question from his sister's favorite for long.

"Ceann Mor's kind have become rare in these times," he admitted at last as Tikrumpdel's shoulders bunched and stretched as he heaved his bulk up the river, "The eggs are not hatching or hatching... wrong. To begin with the Clans would sent their best but with each failure they would lose them as they paid the forfeit. In the end..." He paused and closed his eyes as he admitted it to himself first what was obvious. "You are right, the Clan sent the ones it did not want, its failures, its disappointments. If you are going to lose either way then it becomes sensible to use that loss to dispose of the rubbish."

"Ooph," Ulrich winced, "Harsh." 

"But logical," Quenril stated, "In the face of expected failure but... Sir, do you mean that human life spans are naturally much shorter than ours?"

"Unfortunately yes," Ulrich said, "Humans are lucky if we make it to our first century. Lucky or blessed by the gods. All I can promise is that I will do my darnest to make your sister happy while I have time."

Quenril thought it over.

"That will have to suffice," he said, "Now, what did Sir wish to speak with me about?"

"Well in many ways it is with all of you," Ulrich sat up straighter as Quenril gestured for his kin to join them, "I was wondering what you knew about the Goddess Trakanhini? I'm having a little trouble with, shall we say divine attention? Ever since Jeremiah healed me in the city of the dwerg's I think I've been seeing... visions of his god and frankly, I don't like what I'm seeing. I think I need another god on my side but I want to know the qualities of said god before I tip my hat."

Quenril and his kin gathered in a loose circle before him on Tikrumpdel's shoulder, talking quietly among themselves about the elvish gods and whether one of them would accept a human worshiper.

Alina was gazing around at them from whether she leaned against one of Tikrumpdel's larger dorsal spines as Estella and Kaelin filled her in on the various adventures of the King's Special. Alina keep looking at Estella with a strange expression on her face and Kaelin was beginning to wonder what she saw with those grey eyes. She definitely seemed to see more than a regular human and the wolf in her was wondering about her scent. It was herbal and spicy and... something else as well. She remembered that Tikrumpdel had said about the taste of Alina's scent, rosemary and sage but something woody as well. He thought it was willow but what if it was ash or rowan, the witches' trees? That would certainly explain the attempt on her life, not that Kaelin was going to judge her if she was. Heck Kaelin could hardly talk, could she? Seeing as she was puca born, a werewolf to her bones and she now had wings to boot.

Alina suddenly turned her head, peering into the darkness to one side of the river. Kaelin looked as well and then realized what the big shape padding in the gloom was.

"Huh," she muttered, "I wondered where that one had got to."

"What is that?" Alina whispered.

"That one over there?" Estella pointed with her thumb to Jeremiah, "He has some interesting hobbies, including but not limited to collecting impressive specimens of the enemies of the King's Special. You may have noted the Ash Elf that none of the others of his kind will go near? That is because that one is actually dead."

Alina stared.

"Yeah, it is that," Estella agreed, "Personally I keep a very close eye on him and I'm not entirely sure why the others haven't got rid of him already."

"Well, unfortunately I would probably have been very dead myself if we had done," Kaelin noted, "That and as I was saying to Ulrich yesterday, if we come up against a situation where we will hesitate because what is necessary is counter to our morals, he won't, he'll do it in a heartbeat. Unfortunately any team of specialists like ours needs to have the unpleasant one to get the ugly side of things dealt with."

Alina seemed to be digesting that and then looked back at the large shape shadowing them through the cave.

"As that?" she asked in a whisper, turning to give her voice a chance to recover.

"One of his... pets?" Estella hazarded.

"Puppets," Kaelin corrected, "Considers himself quite the puppet master does our Jeremiah. Still wonder what he would consider to top having a dragon at his beck and call?"

"I don't want to know," Estella shuddered. 

The priest in question suddenly stood up from where he had been sitting at the base of Tikrumpdel's neck, peering into the cave ahead.

"Oh great," Kaelin muttered, "Now what?"

The rest picked up on the change in behavior, their attentions caught by Jeremiah's focus.

"It's daylight!" Thorian whooped, "It's honest to gods daylight!"

 "Where?" Estella asked, stepping forward, then her mouth fell open.

The green stretched from one side of the cavern to nearly the other.

"Praise be to the All Father," Estella breathed. Tikrumpdel lifted his head and started breathing in great sniffing gulps of air. After a moment, Ulrich hurried across and helped Alina stand. The heat rising up through Tikrumpdel's scales was suddenly hotter than comfortable, like desert sands by mid-morning. 

"Doesn't that smell good?" he rumbled, "I'd almost forgotten how lovely it smells."

"Well there is something you don't see every day," Ulrich noted.

The sunlight streamed down through the massive irregular circle in the roof of the cavern, shining off of yellowish limestone, casting a small patch of dancing lights  where it just managed to strike the surface of the water. The trees of the hillock in the middle of the cavern nodded in the wind breathing down through the exit in the tunnel roof, echoing the movements of the curtains of foliage that were spilling down the sides of the cliffs created when the collapse happened.

"That was one big bang," Thorian nodded, "One very big bang."

"I would certainly not have wanted to be the one standing underneath there when it dropped," Quenril noted.

"Or standing on it topside when it gave way," Ulrich agreed.

Jeremiah spread his dragon style wings and launched himself forward, cupping the air as he took flight, the breeze of his passage rippling the surface of the water as he dipped over the river. He pushed harder and rose, shooting up into the open air above ground. He managed to look long enough to be sure there was nothing in his way and then he squeezed his eyes shut, flying blind as he rose into the sunshine, the light dazzling, painful after living in the dark for so long. The warmth hit him like a hammer stroke after being in the caves so long. He tilted into it, the skin of his wings telling him how to find the thermal and ride it while he waited for his eyes to adjust. Out in the open, in the daylight, the sickly light of the sigil caged within his twisted antlers didn't show up so much. That could be useful. Eventually he was able to blink his eye open against the glare.

"Me-mep!"

"What!?!" he barked, stumbling in the air.

"Made you look!" Kaelin called as she spiraled up passed him. Jeremiah glared and grumbled a wordless sound of dislike but then settled into a holding pattern so he could properly assess the terrain. Others may be willing to waste time on childish pursuits but he was more adult and would perform his duty to the team first. He frowned and circled again.

The mountain valley was the broad flat bottomed shape of a landscape shaped by the grinding of ancient, long gone ice, the river, secondary to the one they were following, carving its twisting route across the turf the more recent feature and its course slowed and stabilized by the presence of banks of logs and branches built across its width, the mounds of beaver lodges rearing high in the middle of the ponds thus created. Jeremiah frowned, trying to see the river they were following but close to the feet of the mountains there was no sign of a water course, other than the massive sink holes that it had opened up in the forest floor. Other than that the trees seemed to stretch for miles and miles. Jeremiah narrowed his eyes. In the distance he thought he could see a slight haze, a silvery tint to the sky that reminded him of the aura said to exist around elvish settlements but it was too far away to be sure. He frowned some more but it didn't give him any extra information.

Still frowning, he tilted forward and started down towards the sink hole below him.

When his stomach tried to press its way down to his toes he realized just how very far away it was.

"Oh sqqqqqqqqqqqqquiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit," he yelled and then clamped his teeth shut, his lungs begging for a breath he wasn't sure he could get, eyes squeezed nearly shut. He also realized that trying to reopen his wings now would result in a whip stall at a thoroughly dangerously high turn of speed. Trying to pull up... If he went into a flat skim he would be miles away from the sink hole with no idea which way would led him back and he had left his belongings back there.

Lips pinched tight, he put his back through a full one hundred degree turn, going from straight down to straight up in an instant. He shouted with the pain and his head rang... something (he would not admit it was fear) shivering through him. He turned into a slower spiral downwards. That, that was much more the ticket. He pressed his lips together as his stomach turned over.

It turned out to be a good thing as Tikrumpdel had pressed on up river and had already pushed on passed the island of green, the cold water holding him up. Jeremiah swooped over the miniature forest and managed a fairly dignified landing on the small of Tikrumpdel's back. It was gratifying to be walking on the scales newly picked clean by Ulrich's pets, the cleaning had worked up quite a shine on the old dragon's back, what was appropriate for a personage of his status.

"What news from up top?" Ulrich asked.

"Clear skies and a good following breeze," Jeremiah reported, "It seems that we don't need to expect any enemies, at least to begin with."

"Why do Aye get the feeling that there's a butt some where in this?" Thorian asked, "I'm pretty sure that there is a butt, other than the one at the top of his legs."

"I have to admit that I was also waiting for the other shoe to drop," Ulrich admitted. Jeremiah resisted the urge to roll his eyes or grind his teeth. These people were insufferable, why did they not just accept the information he was willing to give them and stay obedient, like they should do. His eyebrows beetled with his frustration but he kept it in check. He could play the long game, it just required patience.

"I cannot see an landmark that can tell us where we are compared to the rest of Portasia," he admitted, "If anything we could be right outside of Portasia as the mountains appear to be more numerous and taller on the western side."

They stared at him like the doltish creatures that they were. That was slightly gratifying.

The air roared as Kaelin dived into the sink hole, vanishing behind the hillock and then reappearing as she pulled the same trick as Jeremiah, only dangerously close to the water and the sink hole walls. She vanished back up and out of the sinkhole and then reappeared, spiraling down so close to the walls, it looked like she was touching them. She vanished again and then came winging down the river, now slowing down as she came in close. Instead of back winging to land she stretched out her arms and was suddenly bounding forward, arms and legs stretching and bunching like a wolfs as her wings curled in.

"Now that was awesome!" she stated with a smile as she stood, "Now I can definitely say that I'm happy I got these." She shook out her wings and reshuffled them back into place.

"Indeed," Jeremiah turned away and went back to his position at the base of Tikrumpdel's neck, thoroughly upstaged.

"So what do we do about the fact that we have no idea where in the wacky world we are?" Ulrich asked also sitting down.

"Well the way I see it," Kaelin said, stretching her arms above her head, "We can't do nothing until we are out of this cave. After that if we keep to the river we should eventually find some sort of civilization. Once there, we can see about asking about, presuming this big boy doesn't give them all heart attacks."

"We can't to anything," Ulrich corrected.

"What?" Kaelin looked at him with her confused come disgusted look.

"It's 'we can't do anything'," Ulrich repeated and then shook his head, giving up on a lost cause, "Never mind and here copy me, I know of a few exercises that will help stretch out those muscles."

"Any why would you care about my muscles?" Kaelin asked with suspicion.

"Because it isn't going to do any of us any good if you cramp up mid-flight, especially pulling some of the fancy stunts you have been doing," Ulrich noted, "And I was trained by some of the best sword masters for a while." He started stretching his arms above his head, one after the other. Surprisingly Kaelin copied him.

"Since when was your father willing to pay for master swordsmen to train you?" she asked as they worked out.

"He wasn't," Ulrich admitted, "My grandfather insisted that I was trained along side my true born brothers. It certainly made it interesting because they would do their darnest to beat me black and blue every session. I learned quick that nobody was going to pull punches for my sake. Another reason I left when I did. I figured that they were going to use sharpened steel on me soon enough. I calculated that I'd have better odds of surviving outside of my father's home at that point."

Kaelin was silent for a while as they continued stretching out.

"Maybe our childhoods weren't so different after all," she admitted.

Tikrumpdel pushed on up stream, claws dragging on the bottom as he made his way along, only keeping half an ear on what was being said on his back, one eye occasionally watching Nanny Tatters where she shadowed him along the river bank. The river meandered more as it had to route itself around mounds and hillocks of rock where more sink holes had opened up in the roof, allowing shafts of light to stream down into the Underworld. Some where fairly new, the walls of the shafts above still raw and jagged with wounded stone, the rock falls hard and jumbled, whereas others where old, the walls of the shafts rubbed smooth by rain fall, the rock falls softened by mosses and soil, colonized by by tree and leaf. A few where that old that animal life had started to find these little islands of green in the depths of the world. On one, something came wandering down to the water's edge and sat on its haunches to watch them go passed, its large dark eyes unnervingly intelligent as it studied them. As they drew level it reached down into the water, feeling for something as it didn't take its eyes off them. Ulrich turned his head to watch over his shoulder as it reeled in the vine that was trailing in the water. Ulrich looked back to the front, blinking as his eyes as his brain tried to accept what he had just seen.

"Did you just see a mouse reeling in a fish trap?" he asked.

"If you mean the giant mouse back on that island, then yes," Estella admitted.

"Good girl," Ulrich patted her hand.

Tikrumpdel lifted his head from the water, turning it this way and that as he listened. Kaelin stepped forward as well, her ears flicking as she listened.

"I hear it too," she admitted.

 "Oh, what does the mighty Kaelin hear with her wolf ears," Jeremiah smiled but it was not a pleasant question. Kaelin sent him a side eye glare but didn't answer. She didn't need to, as Tikrumpdel pushed on further against the flow of the water the light in the cave became brighter and brighter and it wasn't because the sun was climbing higher over ahead. Thorian peered ahead, swaying from side to side slightly as he tried to judge distance.

"Coo-eey!" he whistled through his tusks, "Now that would be a big bang!"

The entirety of the roof, from one side of the cave to the other had fallen in for a distance of over three hundred feet and above ground it must have been at least a medium sized hill because it had mounted up into a hundred meter tall landslide dam that tumbled downwards them in a series of surging rapids that roared and sprayed, chunks of logs and other debris caught and making their own mini dams on top of the rock fall foundation.

"Well that wasn't there when I came down here," Tikrumpdel snorted, studying the natural dam, "No choice for it, we'll have to go up and over it. You'll have to tell your pet that she's about to get her feet wet."

"Well we could change mounts," Jeremiah suggested, "After all dragons are known to be able to follow their hoard any where in the world so you could always just catch us up once you have over come this obstacle while we fly on ahead."

"And of course you know the way back through the mountains without the river to guide us," Kaelin said.

"Well we could always follow the river down in the valley," Jeremiah pointed out, "Either way we went we would eventually be able to find some civilization."

"Assuming that we can still see the river in the valley," Kaelin noted, "It's been a while since we were up top, I don't know how it looks up there, could be anything now." Jeremiah glared but Kaelin looked back all wide eyed and innocent.

"Fine," he muttered and then spread his wings.

"If you think I am going to be subjected to the indignity of having to hang on like a tick you have another thing coming," he called back, "Nanny Tatters, take the other two."

Tikrumpdel tensed as Nanny Tatters approached but she merely held out a claw for  the vigor pack barer and the Ash Elf puppet to step across to her, their blue eyes matching her single black veined goggler. Tikrumpdel edge away from her and then turned back to the view of the dam. Kaelin twisted her mouth to one side and then shrugged, spreading her pinions and following Jeremiah into the air. Behind her, the others scrambled to make sure that all their gear and packs were secure, Ulrich ordering his stable to hang on to the nearest dorsal ridge they could reach.

Tikrumpdel backed up a little, swished his tail from side to side and then charged towards the rock fall dam. He didn't make it that far up the rock face.

Ulrich and Thorian threw themselves flat and dug their fingers into Tikrumpdel's scales, finding the gaps between the hard plates as the rotund dragon grunted and began to waddle up the slope of the rock fall, water churning and gurgling around him as his massive paws disturbed great churns of rock. There was a sudden snarl in the roar of water as a debris dam gave way and was washed away down the river.

"Oh heeeeeeeeeeecccccccccck!" Estella yelled as she started to slide down Tikrumpdel's back. Thorian flung out an arm and their palms came together with a loud smack that echoed above the thunder of the water and Tikrumpdel's muttered curses as his legs churned to get a grip among the shifting boulders.

"Thank you," Estella said breathlessly as she half hanged, half lay on Tikrumpdel's black back scales. Tikrumpdel heaved again, galumphing slightly higher up the slope. Quenril screeched as his fingertips slipped and he started falling, picking up speed scarily quickly on the dragon's slick back.

Thorian knew that trying to catch him was a bad idea. Thorian did it any way. He swung a foot out and Quenril grabbed, face a sickly grey with fear as his fingers latched on to Thorian's boot.

"Oh burger," Thorian exclaimed as his grip slip and then he was sliding on his belly, clawing for a grip with his one free hand.

"Peter!" Ulrich yelled, "Grab him!"

The centipede wavered and then laced his coils like running stitches in and out of Tikrumpdel's dorsal spins. He flung his head out and Thorian's finger's locked round one of his mandibles. Peter shrilled like a guardsman's whistle but didn't bite.

Tasnar had his hands clenched with a white knuckled grip on a dorsal spine, refusing to look down. He would never admit it out loud but the only reason he had joined in with Sabal's rope games was because then he was in control. He was not in control of this and he was struggling to remember to breath in a regular rhythm, his mind trying to make him look back and see how high up they had come and above water as well. He really didn't like this.

Sabal frowned, glancing down as he heard a muffled cry below his feet. Alina gazed up, her eyes huge but the pupils closed down tiny.  She was hanging on, but it was obvious that her grip was over tight with panic. Sabal looked away. He shouldn't have cared, she was not Ash Elf, she was not a person according to the teachings that had been banged into his head since he was born. She didn't matter but...

He shook his head... But then he was working down hand over hand, letting his legs dangle as he spanned the gaps between the dorsal spans with his full reach.

"There," he murmured, tucking in behind her, wrapping his arms under hers, helping to take her weight as Tikrumpdel surged and fought and struggled up the rock fall, "I got you. I got you." She tensed up but didn't fight as he helped her cling on.

Tikrumpdel heaved and grunted, puffed and waddled, wiggled and huffed, clawing and hauling his bulk ever higher and higher up the scree slop.

"I..." he puffed, "Have... definitely... got... to... lose... weight!"

He slapped one claw down on the ridge of the dam. It crumbled under his grip and he slipped a little. He strained and pulled and slapped the other mighty paw down on the crest. With one last strain he reared up high over the surface of the lake that had built up behind the stone fall dam. His belly bulged and sagged and flopped into the pool. With a sigh he let it topple him into the water.

The smack as he crashed into the surface echoed round the cavern with such force that several rocks fell from the walls of the sinkhole above, clattering down on to the rock slide just behind them. The King's Special and their allies were not paying attention to that, paying more attention to the walls of water flung up to either side of Tikrumpdel's mass. The waves crashed down, slapped on the walls of the cavern and came racing back, sheeting up over Tikrumpdel and flooding his back, washing across him like white caps across the deck of a ship.

Kaelin was the first to land, still dry thanks to the fact that her wings gave her a much greater chance to avoid the soaking spray.

"Is everyone still here?" she demanded as the others started sitting up.

Marmaduke whistled a mournful sounding note as water drained out of every joint.

"Well washed," Estella admitted, sitting up and drawing her hair forward over one shoulder so she could wring it out, then she laid a hand on Peter's carapace, "Thank you Peter, you are a good bug." He clickered and wiggled his antenna at her.

"He is something of an asset," Ulrich came over, brushing wet hair out of his eyes, "Rather glad I managed to tame him." He patted Peter's head and then scratched along the edge of Weatherall's shell. The crab waggled his eye stalks.

"Sorry about that," Tikrumpdel muttered as he struck off across the pool, legs paddling under the water like an oversized dog.

"Nothing wrong my good sir," Jeremiah smiled as he landed and folded his wings down, "The only ones wet are the ones who deserve it, the more intelligent of our name have avoided any inconvenience." He smiled at the rest of the King's Special, who looked back with flat dislike as Kaelin landed.

There was a grinding squeeze of crumbling rock and the pattering splash of rocks falling into the pool.

Nanny Tatters was clawing her way along the wall above the pool, limbs spread like an over sized spider as she crawled and scurried over the limestone, a trail of crumbling and crackled rock left behind her. She seemed to be taking a positive delight in snapping off of the drip stone formations that hadn't been damaged by the rock fall. The vigor pack bearer and Ash Elf Puppet clung on with no sign that they had considered the vertigo inducing drop into the pool below.

"It took ten thousand years to make some of those," Ulrich noted sadly, meaning the drip stone sculptures.

"A fitting lesson that nothing can last the attentions of the gods and all should bow to their mastery," Jeremiah preached, "Perhaps a couple of you here should remember that and give your proper thanks to the gods and beg their forgiveness for your lax behavior."

Kaelin's mouth went flat as something crawled in the corner of her vision. When she looked the reflection on the surface of the lake, distorted as it was by ripples, she could see that Jeremiah was not reflected there. Instead something else towered there, a thing that would have been a dragon if it wasn't for the fact that it was made out of ghastly unlight and non-shadow. She shuddered and looked away.

"Speaking of that," Ulrich managed to smile as he turned away, "Chaps can we continue our interrupted discussion?"

"I think that would be most sensible," Quenril agreed, coming forward after thanking Thorian. Tasnar also gathered round swiftly. Sabal went to join them and then stopped, looking back at Alina. 

"Ma'am," he said after a moment, touching his hat to her, hurrying to join the others by Ulrich.

"What do you reckon?" Estella asked, coming forward to sit beside Alina again, "Do you think he fancies you?"

Alina stared at her and then looked away, a blush climbing her cheeks.

"Yeah, sorry," Estella said, "That was timed wrong, wasn't it?"

Alina lifted a hand to her throat and blushed some more and then sighed.

"So when is your one due?" Estella asked. Alina stared at her.

"Takes one to know one," Estella smiled, "And yeah, I had to face down the monsters as well, including my father, I just managed to gain some help on my side." She smiled at Alina, who frowned and then lifted her hand and patted around Estella's head again.

"How does she do that?" Valodrael asked in Estella's head, "I swear that I can feel it when she does that."

"Me too," Estella said it out loud but Alina didn't flinch, didn't look like she was worried about Estella's sanity. Rather she tilted her head as if considering something she had heard.

"You do know that discussing foreign gods when your soul is already sworn to the one true god is heresy?" Jeremiah tried to break up Ulrich's little theology group.

"There once was a cat that went to sea!" Thorian bellowed the refrain, his voice drowning out Jeremiah's. Jeremiah turned to reprimanded him but Thorian just sang louder.

"There once was a cat that went to sea,

And the name of that cat was the Belly of Tea,

 Oh the wave fell up, the cloud fell down,

Row, the pickle boys, row!

 

Soon may the Tailor man come,

To stitch our draws and then be done.

Oh one day, when the paving's done,

 We'll take the garden and go."

 The more Jeremiah tried to shut him up the louder Thorian sang, the lyrics becoming more and more ridiculous the deeper into the song they went, making even Kaelin snigger and Ulrich's press his lips together. Even Quenril and his kin seemed to be entertained by Jeremiah's efforts to shut Thorian up. When Tikrumpdel joined in the chorus, making his back vibrate below them Estella burst into a fit of giggles that echoed and re-echoed around the cavern until it sounded like there was a whole gaggle of girls in there with them, all laughing at Thorian's nonsense song.

Thorian was beaming as he ran out of verses.

"Very nice, my dear Thorian," Jeremiah grated out, "But you interrupted a rather serious discussion that impinges on whether or not Ulrich is endangering his very soul..."

"Oh I wish I had time to sing you a song," Estella piped up.

 "Oh I wish I had time to sing you a song,

But when I do start it comes out all wrong.

Oh, singing's no sin and dancing no crime,

As long as you dance with just one at a time." 

 Tikrumpdel chuckled and then lifted his muzzle.

"Oh I knew you sing when you opened your mug,

So you take the plate and I'll take the jug.

For I wish I was married to the bee keeper, Ms Loney,

For she's toasty as sin and has beautiful money." 

 The giggling washed back and forth across the water, chasing the ripples as Jeremiah stood on the dragon's back, face as black as thunder.

"Oh I wish I was sat down at a good healthy roast," Estella sang back.

"Oh I wish I was sat down at a good healthy roast,

But my father takes the meat and I get the toast. 

Oh me father's a black guard and though it's a sin,

I can't but wish I could batter him in." 

 Kaelin laughed at that one.

"I agree!" she crowed, "So let's all band together and batter the lot of 'em in! You, me, Ulrich and Alina! Let's batter the lot of them in!"

"Kaelin!" Jeremiah snapped, "Honor your father and..."

"Oh I wish I could have a huge heap of gold," Tikrumpdel sang.

"Oh I wish I could have a huge heap of gold,

For soil is too soft and rock is too cold.

But failing that, if you can find one so huge,

A great feather quilt might just about do." 

 Jeremiah stood clenching his fists as Tikrumpdel paddled on into the dark, the rest of them laughing fit to burst. He turned his back and stamped off passed the lot of them, thumping himself down in the small of Tikrumpdel's back, glaring into the dark behind them, the sigil in his antlers spinning faster as he thought dark thoughts.

The darkness behind them was not so very dark now, broken as it was by the collections of sink holes that opened the ceiling over and over.

It was as they were crossing one of the open areas, where the light danced across the surface of the water and sent up a dazzling dances of shining shards that something changed.

"I wish I had some brains in my head," Thorian sung.

"I wish I had some brains in my head,

'Cause then I might not be waking up dead,

But failing that can I have... Hey!" 

 Water dripped down his clothes where someone had thrown a great big bucket of water over him.

"That wasn't nice!" he snapped, turning to see who was holding the bucket. Nobody was holding a bucket.

The Water Elemental drew back its arm to smack him again, the column of its form rippling, distorting the light shining through it, its arm a long whip of water roping through the air as it drew back. Thorian was faster.

He didn't try to chop it apart, instead hitting it with the broad flat of his blade, bursting it like an over ripe plum hit by a baseball bat, splashing it back into the pool from whence it came.

"I'll keep dicing!" Thorian shouted, "I'll keep slicing. I don't care how many times you come back, I'll smash you from here to next week!"

Kaelin frowned and then spread her pinions. The Water Elemental could be on its own but she doubted it. She heard Jeremiah's wing beat behind her a second later but she was busy studying the surface of the water.

"You have in coming," she called down, tracking the disturbances in the ripple pattern, "All points of the compass."

"Good job no one fell in," Thorian grinned, one hand on his hip, the other resting the flat of his sword over his shoulder, "Well no one I like."

The Water Elements reared out of the pool around Tikrumpdel, who was suddenly struggling to keep his head above water, their rippling forms topped by 'heads' that were just wrinkled blunt snubs of water that wiggled in ways that suggested that they might be able to see the ones before them.

"Oh booger it!" the dragon yelled and then kept his teeth closed as he fought against the suddenly hostile water.

One of the Water Elements smacked Quenril in the face so hard his eyes crossed as he went over backwards, his ears ringing. He lay on his back as Tasnar ducked and dodged above him, distracting the two Water Elementals that were trying to drown his brother. Quenril blinked, unable to make sense of what he was seeing.

Sabal faced off against the two that had seized Ulrich. Unable to use his sword for fear of hitting Ulrich, he punched and punched again but they were water, they just flowed back to where they had been a moment before as they shook Ulrich back and forth between them. Ulrich's face was turning blue as he was spun round and round, then his hand slammed against something solid. He grabbed it and Sabal heaved. Ulrich spilled out of the Water Elements' forms, coughing and choking, dripping wet and wave after wave of water spilling from his lungs. His chest ached and his head spun. He felt as if he had been trapped inside a whirlpool and he was put in mind of a machine he'd seen, one that used paddles to spin dirty clothes around in a vat of hot water, beating the muck out of them.

"If you are saying I need to bathe more then I object to that commentary," he gasped.

Thorian roared as two more Water Elementals reared out of the water, long arms lashing. Thorian ducked the first one's lashing strikes and then hit back, smashing his broad sword through what would be the chest of a enemy of flesh and blood. Using the flat of his sword so it crashed like a cricket bat had much the same result, breaking the Water Elemental in half, sending it collapsing back into the pool. It's buddy wrapped its tentacle like arms around Thorian, trying to drag him off of Tikrumpdel's back so that it could drown him in the pool below, his body taken down to where it was green, deep, dark green.

 Alina cowered as a Water Elemental towered over her, her voice a hoarse squeak of terror. It shot its arm towards her, the end pointed like a deadly spear. Estella was suddenly there, stance strong, fist straight out from the shoulder, meeting the attack with one of her own. The Water Element reared back as its limb exploded but Estella didn't flinch, just narrowed her eyes against the soaking burst, her Talismans circling behind her head as she channeled what Sheng Tie had shown her, only her's was the flow, the flood. The Water Elemental rippled and bulged as it fought against the unexpected force now pressing it back, its form swaying back and forth in time to Estella's circling hands.

A Water Elemental reared out of the pool and snatched at Nanny Tatters. She flinched, flinching up the wall but it managed to snag her right hand wing. She dug her claws in, pressing her tail and neck to the rock wall, the thumb claw of her left wing, gouging a handhold into the limestone as the Water Elemental yanked her wing back and forth, trying to peel her off the wall. She barked as a sickening crack rang out and her wing shoulder moved in ways that it shouldn't do. She whined, a high pitched noise reminiscent of a beaten dog.

"That is enough of that!" Ulrich gasped as the Water Elementals that had already almost drowned him came back for a second try. They reached out with handless arms made of rippling water towards his crouching form and then he exploded forward, swords slashing, cutting through the streams, merging them together. The two Water Elementals surged back, struggling against each other as they tried to tear themselves apart.

Kaelin turned on a wing tip and dived towards the water and then pulled up, banking hard left, claws slashing through the conjoined Water Elementals in front of Ulrich but her hands came up empty, empty and clean.

"Drat!" she barked as she pulled up and circled back for a second pass.

 "You trying something funny?" Thorian barked, glaring at the Water Elemental that had its arms wrapped around his chest. He then grinned as lowered his head as if he was going to bite the things arm, only he didn't bite, he slurped. The Elemental reared back with a surf like roar, flaying its arms, the one that Thorian had drunk being most definitely diminished.

 "I needed a drink," Thorian grinned at it.

Jeremiah circled in the air and came to a hover, looking at Nanny Tatters as she whimpered, her right wing hanging limp as the Water Elemental flowed back to prepare a higher reaching attack. Jeremiah's lips moved in a prayer, blood beading at the corner of his mouth as his lips cracked with the force of the name of his god.

Nanny Tatters roared and twisted her head as her wing was wrenched and twisted back into position, the grind of cartilage on cartilage echoing loud within the walls of the sink hole. She swung her head round and glared at her master but then lowered her gaze to the Water Elemental below.

The terrible, mind shuddering rattle of her breath churned across the water. The Water Elemental crashed like a wave, surging towards her but it flashed to steam before it came close, steam and salt, the last pieces of its form pattering on the surface of the choppy pool and sinking without anyone noticing that they had ever been. Nanny Tatters flexed a wing that now gave no sign of ever having been dislocated.

Jeremiah nodded. Such was the rightful punishment of those who resisted the Will of Klu'ga-nath.

Quenril stumbled to his feet, his head throbbing, vision slightly blurred. He squeezed his eyes shut hard and couple of times to try and see straight, which was probably why Tasnar was busier with keeping him out of the clutch of the Water Elementals than hitting back. Their little corner of the battle field became a swirling mess as Water Elementals hit and struck and Tasnar dropped all pretense of fighting back to push and pull his brother out of the way, guiding his ducks and dodges.

"What's up with you, for pity's sake?" Tasnar demanded as he yanked Quenril to one side again.

"Head..." Quenril swayed unsteadily, "Head feels...." He threw up into the pool. That did not please the Water Elementals, their forms towering higher as they thundered their rage with the noise of a Strid waterfall.

The Water Elemental facing Thorian growled with the noise of rapids as its arm grew back. It smacked its right arm down. Thorian dodged left. It smashed its left arm down. Tikrumpdel grunted with the blow, still fighting to keep his head above water. It crashed both arms down. Thorian crashed with the flat of his broad sword, splashing both arms and the column of its torso. The water of its form crashed down into the lake and did not rise again.

"If you are going to hit me, hit me," Thorian advised, "Don't namby-pamby about." 

The two Water Elements fighting Ulrich and Sabal reared higher.

"Huh, that's a tall order," Ulrich noted, "What say you? Shall we give them a lesson in team work? How about the Dodger's Dance?"

"Is that the one where you are unarmed but still win by wearing your enemy down with the strength of his own attacks?" Sabal didn't quite suppress a smile.

"I do believe it is," Ulrich grinned, returning his swords to their scabbards.

"Then let us dance," Sabal coped and tipped one toe forward, Ulrich taking up a posed stance beside him.

The Water Elementals struck. Ulrich and Sabal span in opposite directions, mirroring each other, their forms appearing to waver through the Elementals slashing arms but perfectly in time. The Water Elements slashed again, water splashing over Tikrumpdel's back. The pair ducked and span under the tentacles of water, arching at such extreme angles that they would have fallen if they hadn't caught each others hands, pulling back to the center between them. The Elementals roared with frustration, smashing again and again, water splashing and foaming, Ulrich and Sabal always one step ahead, perfectly in time, perfectly matching, reflections of each other as they ducked and weaved through the shining, rippling limbs of water, some how keeping their footing on Tikrumpdel's drenched back even as the water became so deep that it began to trickle off his scales. Sabal added a spiteful little kick that splashed said water back up at the blunt lumps of fluid that foamed the Elementals' 'heads'. It did not impress them, making them even angrier, if that was possible but still, Sabal and Ulrich were one step ahead, still perfectly in synchronization.

"Excuse me," Jeremiah called snidely down, "You are supposed to be fighting those things, not having a dance party with them."

"If you were properly watching old chap," Ulrich smiled back, even as he nearly did the splits and caught his fall on one hand, "You'll notice that there is method to the madness."

And indeed there was, the towering Water Elementals no longer towering but now more their original size. Ulrich grinned at Sabal, who grinned back and then span into a jumping high kick that put his boot through the head of one of the Elementals. It reeled back as he landed with cat like grace and posse.

Estella frowned, pushing the Water Elemental facing her back. It bent and swayed and gurgled a groan at her and then gave way, splashing back into the lake. Estella breathed a sign of relief and then the wave roared up over Tikrumpdel's side, seized her in its grasp and pulled her over board.

Water filled her eyes, her ears, her mouth. She rolled in the flood, losing sense of which way was up or down in the maelstrom of bubbles and something was pressing her down, pushing her into the place were the water turned dark and cold. There it held her, floating in the liquid night, the last bubbles escaping her lips, then her whole body convulsed, mouth stretching wide as black oily water poured out of her, writhing, thrashing through the gloom, a thousand screaming, squeaking, moaning voices that beat back the invisible enemy, wrapped her in a warm and savagely protective cocoon, thrusting her back to the surface.

Alina darted forward and grabbed Estella as she erupted back out of the lake, holding her as Estella's lungs threatened to tear themselves apart, deep, cold water jetting from her mouth with every hacking, racking cough. Alina's eyes went wide as the black, oily water didn't retreat but instead writhed and wriggled, spiraling up and smoothing out into the shape of a large and extremely angry Void dark dragon. Stars exploded and faded to dust across Valodrael's hide as he snarled at the Water Elemental trying to rear again from the surface of the water.

"Oh booger it!" Tikrumpdel cried out as the unexpected weight made him wallow in the pool and he struggled to keep his head above water, steam jetting from his nostrils as his nose threatened to be dragged under.

"One second," Ulrich called as he bowed under yet another attack, then his swords whispered from their scabbards and laid into the Water Elemental before him but it didn't seem to bother it. Ulrich scowled, ramping up the speed of his blows but each and every one just sliced through the Water Elemental and came out the other side without leaving any trace of damage, the water closing up behind his strikes like a line of pencil being erased.

"Blast it!" Ulrich exclaimed.

Kaelin winged round, her wings pumping, the walls of the sink hole streaking passed. She arched and dived towards the Water Elemental threatening Estella, allowing her claws to push through the tips of her fingers, ignoring the burning pain of ruptured flesh. She struck the Elemental, claws gouging through its mass, leaving wakes scratched across its surface but they closed up almost as soon as she made them.

"Gah!" she snarled in annoyance as she pulled up, "What does it take to kill these things?"

"You need any help?" Thorian called over to Ulrich with a grin.

"Sure," Ulrich grunted, arms beginning to burn as he kept up the rate of blows even thought it didn't seem to be making a difference, "Blasted things just won't die!"

"Then duck!" Thorian beamed.

"What?" Ulrich asked and then had the sense to do it anyway as Thorian bounded towards him. With a wet smack one Water Elemental disintegrated in a burst of spray and the other reeled back. It steadied and coiled back towards them, roaring like a storm wave on the shore.

"Oh, you don't learn quick," Thorian grinned as it descended towards him, holding his blade where the momentum of the first swing had taken it two. He waited until it was right up in his face and then launched the back swing. The resulting fountain of wagter soaked him to the skin but he whooped despite it.

"How's that?"

"It looks like you are going to owe me money," Sabal observed to Tasnar.

"It is not over until it is over," Tasnar grunted, trying to chop through the arms of the Water Elemental that was trying to slap Quenril about.

Jeremiah hovered, viewing the battle field, trying to decide which one of them deserved to be his target the most. There again there was such a thing as sharing it around. He began to chant under his breath, fingers twitching, weaving the threads of power together, a cat's cradle of a cage, fragile but entangling just the same. Then the cage snapped as he unleashed his prayer upon the targets.

"What?" Tasnar yelled as the shadows thrashed and twisted up out of the depths of the lake, a groaning, squeaking, shrieking sound rending the air as they came, their sightless staring eyes unblinking as they slithered towards their prey. Tasnar turned blue white as their warped and twisted fingers left leprous hand prints as they came crawling towards them. He shoved the still reeling Quenril so that his older brother stumbled, falling away from the path of the moaning horrors that squirmed towards them.

Sabal spat an Ash Elf oath that spilled back ink into the air and then drifted like poison before dissipating, backing away, forcing Ulrich to retreat, blocking the shadow's path with his body.

The two Water Elementals that were threatening Tasnar and Quenril twisted and lashed at the crawling shadow things, gurgling like drains, ropey arms now dripping water like they were sweating, liquid bodies shaking and rippling.

Tasnar crouched on Tikrumpdel's back as the shadows retreated, clutching his head, teeth chattering, eyes wide but not seeing.

"Make it stop," he pleaded in a whisper, "Make it stop. Please, make it stop."

Jeremiah smiled, the books in his pocket warm and comforting against his back. He frowned however as Nanny Tatters bit at the two distracted Water Elements and missed every single time. It was embarrassing to have a servant who only worked half the time. It was obvious that in life Nanny Tatters hadn't ever been exposed to the nursery tails of what happened to the lazy daughter when she shirked her work one too many times. If it wasn't for the fact that he enjoyed the prestige of having a dragon at his beck and call he would consider disposing of her. He looked at the snarling form of Valodrael and considered it but as the Void Dragon was not truly alive he could not be killed, not in the sense that mattered. Once he had his own flesh and blood again it would be a different matter but for a moment... it would be stunningly difficult.

Tikrumpdel? Possible but the ancient dragon's sheer size would make it difficult and there was the fact that he couldn't fly, which would spoil the whole effect of having a dragon minion. Having a dragon minion that galumphed every where would just be undignified.

If Valodrael was aware of Jeremiah's regard, he ignored it, rearing on to his back legs as the Water Elemental that had tried to drown Estella draw itself up as tall as it could. The bone-chilling rattle of a blizzard's last gasp rattled through the air as he drew his breath in. The Water Elemental lashed.

The Chill of the Void burst from Valodrael's mouth as his jaws stretched to splitting wide, frost coating his fangs. The Water Element's lashing tentacle came to a stop an inch from Valodrael's snort, its form tinkling as it froze solid, the air screaming as it contracted, the water in the lake rippling as if many somethings were fleeing from the fate that had overtaken their brother. The surface buckled and rasped as it froze thick enough to walk on, creaking and straining as the Chill of the Void continued on and on.

Finally Valodrael ran out of breath. He drew his claws back and smashed them into the frozen sculpture of the Water Element. He smashed again and again, shards of ice splintering and flying. He smashed until the foot thick sheet of ice across the water shattered with the noise of a thunder clap and his claws split. He roared, the base throat roar of an alpha predator challenging the world to battle, the lake rippling away from him with the force of it. Something in the depths turned tail and swam deeper, no longer interested in the little snack that had fallen into its world and then disappeared again.

Quenril staggered to his feet, blinking over much and rubbing his ear. A Water Elemental lashed at him but its blow was as unsteady as Quenril's feet so instead of a solid blow, it winged him, causing him to stagger across the space to Tasnar's side and like a set of dominoes, Quenril knocked aside the blow the second  Water Elemental launched at Tasnar, causing it to splash harmlessly on Tikrumpdel's scales.

"Ow! Do you mind back there?" Tikrumpdel called over his shoulder, the tension draining from his shoulders as what ever it was that had been trying to drag him down had fled. He pulled himself more confidently through the water, chin high, pulling away from the last two Water Elements. However, the Water Elements didn't seem to have the brains of their kin that had fled from Valodrael's fury, keeping pace with Tikrumpdel to lash at the King's Special again.

Ulrich charged, lashing back in defense of his friends but again, the very sharpness of his swords, which usually made them so lethal against flesh and blood foes, played against him, unable to make lasting damage to the Water Elementals, the edges so sharp that droplets didn't even cling to them.

"Damn it!" Ulrich muttered.

Shrieking like an eagle, like a wolf Kaelin dived again, claws spread wide, jaws cracking wide, bones distorting as the wolf came forward, fangs extending like nails through a plank. This time she didn't go for a slash, she went for a full on body slam aimed through the head, water exploding in every direction, soaking her fur, her clothes, her wings. Spraying droplets with every beat, she turned in the air, breaking to a hover. The Water Elementals swayed and with a chillingly light sound reminiscent of a rippling stream, their heads reformed.

"Oh for pity's sake," Kaelin barked, "What does it take to kill you things?"

"How about this?" Thorian bellowed, bounding forward, "It's Thorian time!"

His sword splashed through the column of water that formed the torso of the first Water Elemental that he came close to, leaving it struggling to hold itself together. The second slayed out of the way, bending in ways a flesh and blood creature would have been unable to do so. The first straightened up... and met the back swing of Thorian's sword.

"Huh," Thorian pouted, looking at the last remaining Water Elemental, "It wasn't meant to get out of the way, that makes me... sad. Very sad."

Above them, Jeremiah hovered and smiled, whispering a pray to his god, gesturing at Nanny Tatters.

Thorian limbered up his blade, swung it high as a roar began... Nanny Tatters jaws snapped shut over the Water Elemental, the down draft of her wings buffeting them all as she swooped over head to smack talons first into the far wall and clung on there, throat pulsing as she drank the Water Elemental whole. Valodrael watched and raised an eyebrow, claws flexing ever so slightly. He didn't trust the murderer of his siblings one inch, even with her tight on a leash, especially as he wasn't sure how tight that leash was but he had to admit that her method of dealing with the problem was some what fitting. He still didn't give her the nod of respect. That he would not do.

"That was mine!" Thorian protested.

"Oh dear," Jeremiah smiled as his wings lowered him to Tikrumpdel's back as the big, red and black scaled dragon pushed on into the dark, "Did I rather steal your thunder? I am sorry. I was rather under the impression that you were struggling to kill those things and you yourself did rather give me the idea by drinking that one's arm earlier. Of course I wasn't going to try and repeat such an uncouth action myself, if nothing else I wasn't sure if an Elemental could survive the processes of being digested and it would be rather distressing to have it erupt out through all my veins."

Thorian frowned, trying to understand what Jeremiah meant by those fancy words like 'digested' and 'erupt'.

"But it would be highly educational to watch it happen to someone else," Jeremiah continued to smile, watching Nanny Tatters avidly, "I wonder how long the process will take."

"You're disgusting, do you know this?" Kaelin observed as she landed and let the wolf go back to bed, her bones reforming her human form, although not all the fur receded from the tips of her ears.

"My dear Kaelin," Jeremiah turned his sanctimonious smile on her, "Sure you are not claiming innocence when you know full well that I have seen you pull the head off a man?"

"Innocent?" Kaelin barked a laugh, "I lost what innocence I had the first time I watched someone dragged into the ring by Grandfather and beaten to a bloodied pulp. I have done what I need to survive since I first drew breath but that doesn't mean that I like it and I sure as hell don't gloat about it and if there had been any other way I would have taken it." Jeremiah opened his mouth to say something but she held up a finger, jumping in before he could speak. "You want evidence? I did do differently the first chance I got and if those blasted witch hunters had been up to scratch none of this would have happened. We would have had a job protecting an envoy or something, though with you on the team, we would have probably got the job of investigating a two bit penny cult or something. So yeah, you're fecking right, I'm no innocent but I don't enjoy watching someone being torn apart by something from the inside out, like some sort of body horror freak show, unlike some I could name." She glared at him but Jeremiah just kept smiling at her.

"Oh is Nanny Tatters in trouble?" Ulrich asked no one in particular. Jeremiah's head whipped round but the trouble that Ulrich was referring to was just a patch of softer than normal rock that had crumbled under her grip and nearly spilled her into the lake. Jeremiah snorted and turned back but Kaelin had stalked off to sit by Alina who was looking at her with concern. Kaelin smacked her butt down, knees raised, feet apart, hands holding her forehead.

"Yeah, I'm werewolf born," she snapped after a second, not looking round, "You got a problem with that?"

Kaelin looked round at the noise of someone shifting but it was only Estella standing up to approach Valodrael. Alina was looking at Kaelin with a somber gaze that wasn't afraid. There was something deep in that grey gaze that settled the rolling anger that had seized her gut at Jeremiah's enjoyment of the thought of other peoples pain. By gollies, she had wanted to make him feel pain again, she wanted to wipe that smug, self centered grin of his face. It was hard to let go of that need, that wish to hurt someone the way she'd been hurt. Something in Alina's gaze helped, it was something that spoke of... understanding. Kaelin dropped her gaze to that scarf of bruises that still circled Alina's throat. Part of her wondered how Alina had got that. Was it an attack that had happened because she had refused someone? Or was it because she had given into what she thought was affection, was love, only for it to be something much darker? Kaelin had seen such things play out within the pack, not all her trust issues were because of stuff that had happened directly to her, some of it was what she had seen. There was little to no privacy within the pack and that meant pups saw things no child should be exposed to.

Alina looked away first, turning her head to fix her gaze upon Estella and the dragon that was standing slightly behind her, his head high and proud. He obviously didn't care if she approved or not but there was something in the way that his body was canted towards Estella that made the connection plain.

"Lady Alina," Estella said, "May I introduce Valodrael, the last of the Void dragons? Valodrael, Lady Alina."

"Good Lady," Valodrael bowed his head to her, lifting his left forefoot in an elegant leg, "May I offer my services if you are in need of... justice being rendered."

Alina looked at her cautiously and then lifted a hand to her throat.

"Precisely," Valodrael smiled, "I have developed quite a taste for those... that deserve my attentions." His chuckle was not reassuring but Alina was not afraid, her grey gaze more level, considering. Valodrael grinned more widely. He liked her already, she had a backbone and there was the fact that she kept managing to make him feel something when she patted the air about Estella's head. Oh, there was something here, she was not just a regular human woman, there were depths here that begged to be plumed. After all it was not good for Estella to be on her own so much and she would be safer if she had a companion who could help keep watch. Of course, Estella would always be his most precious but she deserved to have a friend and Alina certainly seemed to have the potential. And they were already getting along. Oh potential, potential.

His right arm suddenly spasmed, rippling and bulging, a squishy, oozing noise bubbling through the air. He caught his breath, just.

Alina frowned.

"What? Already?" Estella asked.

"Ah! Hungry!" Valodrael hissed, "Not fed... too long...Argh!" The scream was controlled just, throttled back but he couldn't stop it entirely as the pain over rode every thought, scramble coding his mind, rending every nerve ending in liquid static and then etching them in acid.

Cool, sweet, bliss, the offer of sanctuary pressed against his mouth. He dived for it in an instance, the pain simmering down to a grinding ache that made him want to curl up in a dark corner some where and rest, just ignore the world until it all went away, a whole body headache that nagged at him constantly. At least here it was manageable, Estella tried, the sweet, she tried to make it as easy for him as possible. That priest man and his god had better watch out, if they laid a single finger on Estella he would eat them both and worry about the consequences of devouring a god later on. She was his, his sanctuary and his comfort. His precious for which he would destroy the world if it threatened her.

"Are you alright? Are you safe?" Estella asked quietly and he could feel the shape of her worried frown. Gods, he was undone. Hoards were a dragon's greatest treasure and their greatest weakness.

"I've been better," he admitted as he settled back into his corner of her mind, "But it is nothing compared to what I've suffered before."

Well that was the truth and they both knew it. They had shared over much of each others thoughts and memories as they had adjusted to each other in the earlier days of their relationship. She knew about the years, centuries, of crawling over the Abyssal Plain, starving, wretched, tormented by hunger and the searing burn of being bodiless, needing to scream but having no mouth, just as he knew about the years of building fear, the knowledge that she couldn't speak, couldn't tell, but longing, needing for it to stop and then the start of the pain and the real terror, of the count down, the unstoppable tick that matched her heartbeat and the knowledge that the end of the silence would either be death or worse, being eternally bound to the source of her pain.

Alina was looking at Estella with a strange expression on her face.

"Yes," Estella admitted, "I'm being possessed by a dragon."

She walked over and sat back down beside Alina who, strangely, didn't shy away. Estella leaned back against a dorsal spine and closed her eyes, chin tipped up.

"Long story short," she said without opening her eyes, "Valodrael spent his childhood being the favorite test subject of a would be Lich, who destroyed an entire continent trying to become a god. Valodrael made it out but was rendered bodiless by the effort. He's been trapped in a cycle of moving vessel to vessel ever since. I am the second of his vessels who was willing to have him in there. As for why I was willing to have a bodiless dragon ride crossbow in my head and the rest of me for that matter, well I had a problem that needed dealing with and I needed it dealt with in such away that I knew that after I left it wouldn't become my sisters' problem. Valodrael agreed to the terms and we've been on the road ever since. It seems to be working out so far."

The Red Cardinal talisman landed on her shoulder, cheeping in her ear.

"Yes I know he takes risks," Estella smiled, rubbing its crest with a finger, "He's a dragon, what did you expect?"

The purple frog landed in her lap and sang at her.

"Yes I love you too," Estella smiled, bestowing affection on all her wooden pets, Alina looking on. The black cat with bat wings padded into her lap and curled up to wash its fore paws with a bright pink tongue. Alina seemed totally enthralled by the kitten sized creature's gaze, petting it gentle as it washed and purred at her.

"Are you going to pay up now or shall we keep a running tally?" Sabal asked Tasnar as the lake depth finally began to shelve up towards them.

"Pay for what?" Tasnar narrowed his eyes.

"The orc child ended no less than six of the Water Elements," Sabal observed, "While... Sir Ulrich failed to end even one. Therefore you owe me six, or do you propose that we keep a running total and settle later when we are in more settled times?"

"Later," Tasnar agreed.

"Very well," Sabal nodded, "Later it is."

Quenril groaned and sank to his knees, holding his head in his hands.

"What is it kin?" Sabal asked, going to him.

"Dizzy. Dizzy. No like dizzy," Quenril mumbled, tugging at his ears, his eyes unfocused.

"Oh lord," Ulrich said, "Lay him down chaps, preferably on his left side." He pulled out a blanket and dangled the end of it in the icy cold lake. For a second he marveled at the details of the bottom and then he was pulling the blanket up and folding the soaked end over and over on itself to make a cold compress. Hurrying over, he laid it over Quenril's head and smoothed it into place on his forehead.

"That Water Elemental chap has roughed him up good," he stated, "That's a concussion if I ever saw it. We need to keep it quite and give him time for the headache to ease off. After that, we'll have to try and keep him off the front lines for a while, he's going to need to avoid getting another blow on the head, preferably for a month, which on this trip is going to be a problem. Fate has not been co-operative with us on that score."

Tikrumpdel's motion began a little more choppy as the water shallowed out but the walls of the cave continued to slide passed at a goodly rate, the rippled layer of grey and black giving way to bands of yellow and red, regularly broken by the gaping mouths of sink holes, shafts of sunlight cutting down into the dark air of the Underworld. Kaelin's ear twitched. After a while she sat up straighter and looked into the light now leading them up and out of the cave system that threaded through the bones of the world.

"What is it?" Estella asked.

Kaelin didn't answer immediately, peering into the distance.

"You are going to want to hold on," she said, spreading her wings and lifting from Tikrumpdel's back. A moment later Jeremiah did the same, winging forward, skimming over the surface of the water then pulling up to skim over the top of the waterfall.

"Oh not again," Ulrich muttered, then started making sure that all their packs were secure.

The slope was far shorted than the one made by the rock fall dam but it was also very nearly vertical and wasn't so much one waterfall but a whole series of them, some short, some long, some made by barely a lip in the stone, others the over flowing of deep bowls in the rock shelves that cast multiple fire fly like lights dancing over the wall of the grotto beyond the cave entrance. A flock of wading birds took flight as Jeremiah and Kaelin burst from the cave mouth. A moment later Tikrumpdel nosed out into the true sunlight, tilting his head up to breath in deep of the fresh air untainted by the smell of caves and the chill of underground. Many of the others did the same, gazing up at the blue sky that welcomed them back to the world above ground. Tasnar and Sabal glanced up and then looked away, tugging the brims of their hats down low to avoid the glare of the sun in their eyes.

Tikrumpdel nosed forward until he lapped at the waterfall.

"Ah booger it," he muttered, "Another damn climb." He reached up as high as he could while trending water and dug his claws in.

Thorian and Ulrich threw themselves flat as Tikrumpdel's back tilted alarmingly, grabbing for handholds that they found, clinging on like limpets as Tikrumpdel reached up for another handhold.

Alina managed a hoarse scream as she started to slip.

"Weatherall! Grab her!" Ulrich shouted, "And don't squeeze her in half!"

Weatherall stretched out a massive pinching claw and catch Alina as she slide passed, hanging on to a dorsal spin at the same instance with his other claw. Alina gasped as she came to a dead stop and grabbed the claw around her waist with both hands but Weatherall was obedient to his master's instructions and didn't squeeze her too hard.

Peter whistled shrilly, his coils woven through a stretch of dorsal spines, not happy that his rider was once again favoring someone else over him then Quenril, battered, still stunted, eyes glazed with concussion started sliding as well. Peter stretched out ready to catch... and Marmaduke reached out an arm and caught Quenril under the arms, tucking him into his chest, the blanket fluttering away down into the water, where it half bobbed, half sank below the water.

Peter shrilled and squeaked, cursing and swearing in the language of insects.

"Peter!" Ulrich snapped, "We have had words about this behavior before, I don't want to have another!"

Peter subsided but still grumbled, the sound of it lost in the thunder of water as Tikrumpdel heaved himself up and peddled for a foot hold. He found one and started reaching for the next grip.

"Oh billwigs!" Tasnar screamed as his grip slipped, unable to hang on to the dragon's now vertical back.

Kaelin saw him go and dived, reaching out her hands but her fingers missed the grip and Tasnar fell away, mouth opening in a terrified 'o' of surprise. He jerked to a halt and hanged dangling over the frothing water, staring down between his feet as something help him up by the strap of his pack. He looked up to see Peter bent over backwards to hold him.

"I um," Tasnar said quietly, "Um thank you?"

Peter whistled something that sounded suspiciously like 'you're welcome'.

"Well done Peter," Ulrich called as Tikrumpdel grunted and gouged the rock face with his talons, trying to find another foot hold, "Perhaps when all this is done you had better show Kaelin how it is done."

Kaelin spiralled up above the mist of spray and pocked Haggis' blow stick into her mouth. Sabal rolled his eyes where he was hanging on with a white knuckled grip as the high pitched shriek of something in extreme pain swooped passed them all, Kaelin pulling up at the last second, just inches above the water's surface.

Tikrumpdel flinched, twisting his head to see what on earth had just dive bombed passed his ear and lost his grip. He yelped and managed to arrest his fall, his belly slapping wetly against the face of the waterfalls.

Estella yelled as water washed over Tikrumpdel's back and splashed her in the face. She gasped with the cold and then her numbed fingers lost their grip.

"Not good, not good, not good!" she yelled, slipping and sliding down Tikrumpdel's back, fingers scrabbling for a grip. She half turned, looking down, seeing just how fast the water was coming up to meet her.

"Oh wu mu shanyang de erzi!" she yelled, though how a goat could be without a mother remained to be seen, as well as how a goat had caused this situation. She gulped another breath to scream and her left eye flushed cold at almost the same moment that she was yanked to a halt. She looked up to see that her left hand was coated in a mat of black fibres that were also stuck to Tikrumpdel's scales in the large of his back.

"I did not know that you could that," she gasped to her passenger, her shoulder burning.

"Neither did I," he admitted in her mind, "And I'm not sure how I did."

"We'll have to practice sometime," she suggested, "Sometime when my shoulder isn't on fire."

Tikrumpdel grunted and hooked an elbow over the edge of the falls, peddled for a moment to find a foot hold and then pushed himself up. The noise of the waterfalls increased as the flow was forced to divide around his meaty forearm. He got one hand on the rim and pushed again, found another foothold and hefted himself up, had the leverage to get his other hand on the edge of the falls and heaved until he towered over the landscape. He toppled slowly forward and crashed down in the river, sending shock waves racing across the water, up stream. With a grunt and groan he started pulling the rest of himself up river.

Kaelin winged down to his back as the King's Special and their allies start picking themselves up and then flinched as there was a scrabbling behind them. Nanny Tatters came swarming up and out of the grotto, claws cutting gouges in the turf, single eye blinking and watering in the sun. Jeremiah banked and back winged to settle on her head, seated on her fleshy dreadlocks like a Maharaja on his royal elephant. He settled his robes and looked around like a prince upon his throne. On Nanny Tatters back the Ash Elf puppet and the vigor pack bearer crouched, looking utterly miserable in the sun.

Kaelin rolled her eyes and walked back to Weatherall.

"You can put her down now," she said, tapping the claw that was holding Alina. Weatherall wiggled his eye stalks at her.

"Do you want me to give those eyes of yours a good pull?" Kaelin asked. Weatherall made that grinding noise in his belly and then lowered Alina to Tikrumpdel's back and let go of her.

"Thanks for not dropping her," Kaelin said with only a hint of sarcasm. Estella walked up, nursing her shoulder.

"Well that was a bit of fun," she observed, grimacing. Alina frowned and then held out her hands to Estella. Estella frowned, wondering what Alina meant. Alina beckoned, holding out her hands again. After a moment, Estella held out her right hand. Shaking her head slightly, Alina reached for her left hand. With fingers that were gentle but firm, she started turning and stretching Estella's arm, the fingers of her other hand gently probing and squeezing certain points on Estella's shoulder, collar bone and the back of her neck. Alina turned Estella's arm a little more as she pushed on her shoulder to stop her twisting forward with the pull. There was a loud pop from Estella's shoulder and she gasped. For a moment she staggered and then she was standing up straighter, more relaxed.

"Wow," she gasped smiling, "I don't know what you just did by it worked! That feels so much better." Alina smiled and mimed swinging her arms.

"Walk with me?" Estella suggested. Alina smiled again and they started pacing up and down Tikrumpdel's back, Estella working on swinging her arms without over compensating for the occasional stab of pain in her left shoulder.

Thorian gazed at the landscape around them. The forest tumbled away to their right, trees as far as the eye could see and no sign of the river that Kaelin and Jeremiah had spotted on their earlier sky born excursion. To their left the mountains reared, tall and proud and strong. The river, though not as deep as it had been in the cave because it was chattering along on a broader course was still deep enough and Tikrumpdel kept to the deepest channel, though in places he had to pull himself along, belly scraping the river bed, sometimes pulling a boulder out of the channel and tossing it on to the bank.

"Feels like home," Thorian breathed deeply of the mountain air, "I've missed this land."

Kaelin spiraled back down from where she had taken a quick scouting trip into the air.

"The river is running North West," she reported, "So if we stick with it then we should find home eventually."

"And how did you figure that out?" Ulrich asked with interest.

"Portasia is on the Western Coast," Kaelin pointed out, "So if we keep heading west or there about then we should find it eventually. Ulrich nodded.

"Because if we are a little too north or south we can simply follow the coastline at that point and we'll find our home country sooner or later," he said, "That is clear thinking."

"Glad you like it," Kaelin said wryly and then settled down to sun bath on Tikrumpdel's back. The sun was warm and comforting and Tikrumpdel's back was soft under its cover of scales. Her wings stretched open to soak all the feathers in the life giving rays. It was so good to feel that again.

Ulrich turned to reassure his Ash Elf companions. They were nervous about being out in the open, glancing about fearfully, though Tasnar seemed equally fascinated by the feel of sunlight on skin, flexing his fingers and studying how the light fell across his palm, casting shadows.

 The river chuckled onwards, swirling round Tikrumpdel's sides, bubbling in his wake, stained by the sediment and sand he was raking up from the bottom of the channel. There were more waterfalls but these were only six feet high and other than making the King's Special sit down it didn't incovience they that much. It was as they were going through a shallow patch that Tikrumpdel stopped.

"I say old chum," Ulrich called, "Anything the matter."

The reply was a sonrous yawn that echoed like a fog horn from the mountian slopes and sent birds whirling into the sky. Tikrumpdel stretched and raked his claws along the river bed.

"Sorry," he muttered, "Being going for a long time and I don't remember the journey down there being that auduous."

"No need to appologise," Ulrich laided a comforting hand against Tikrumpdel's scales, taking Jeremiah's place at the base of Tikrumpdel's neck, "You have been more than impressive. In fact, thinking on it, you have been pushing on around the clock, while we have all taken the chance to nap."

"Nothing to apologise for," Tikrumpdel yawned again, the blast sending more birds shrieking into the air, "Little people need more sleep than us dragons ever do but I could do with some rest in the eyes soon." He snorted a streamer of smoke into the air.

"Hum let's see," Ulrich stood up and sheilded his eyes. It was difficult to tell what the presise time was due to the sun hiding behind the mountains but that did tell him that it was passed midday. He considered what his body was telling him and it said that it was maybe time for elevenses if that late.

"Alright people," he called, "Tikrumpdel is coming up for a rest break and our body clocks are lagging behind real time due to the days sliding down in the Underworld. I propose a rest stop, a proper camp, a decent fire, plenty of wood, maybe even a tent or two if we can mock something up with some of the blankets. What say you?"

"Aye!" Thorian roared.

"Sounds agreeable," Estella smiled and Alina nodded.

" 'salright," Kaelin mumbled, lifting a wing to look at him momentarily before lowering it again.

"I think it would be a good idea," Tasnar stated, "My brother is not good."

"It's just a headache," Quenril objected, pulling his hat down lower, closing his eyes against the sun.

"Rest stop it is then," Ulrich nodded in satisfaction.

"Just one thing, my dear Ulrich," Jeremiah called across from where Nanny Tatters was pacing stately along the right hand bank, "Where do you prepose we have this wonderful rest stop?"

Ulrich went to answer and then closed his mouth, rubbing his chin as he looked around at the dark pine forest that came down almost down to the water's edge. He realised that he needed another shave. The evening shadow grew slower thanks to his mother's blood but it was definitely coming back.

Tilrumpdel suddenly lifted his snout, sniffing deeply, nostrils flaring.

"Something smells real nice up ahead," he stated.

Thorian frowned, looking up river.

"I don't smell anything," he said and then sneezed, finally shifting the water that was stuck up his nose. Without saying anything Estella padded over and handed him a handkerchief, which resulted in a noise very similar to the Bat Clan Elf's horseless chariot that had pestered Quenril and his kin in that mad cap chase that they had experienced after eating in the goturi's city.

"Definite nice," Ulrich asked Tikrumpdel, with a slight frown on his face.

"Like mint... and that," Tikrumpdel replied, his voice dreamy, "And some of this... and a little of... that."

Ulrich frowned some more and then turned quietly away. Nodding to the Ash Elves as he passed them he made sure that they were more involved with looking after Quenril and then wandered down to Tikrumpdel's tail end. Taking the chance he slipped down Tikrumpdel's side, jumped off his ankle, sprang to a shelf of river rock in the left bank and bounced into the tree line in an instant. He paused just a moment to catch his breath and then turned to his right as he heard Tikrumpdel set off again, this time with more vigorous splashing. Ulrich started running until he saw a patch where he'd be able to see Tikrumpdel without being seen. He peered out and then nodded to himself. Tikrumpdel's pupils were blown wide and he was beginning to dribble. There was something extremely potent affecting him and Ulrich needed to know what. Thankfully, even with the river's help, Tikrumpdel was not the fastest and Ulrich was pretty good at running. He sprinted through the under growth, ducking branches and vaulting logging. There was something liberating about running as if he had no care in the world. The trees blurred passed, the scent of light forest loam filled his nose and...

The trees suddenly vanished and Ulrich only just managed to grab a branch to break his head long rush. The water rippled before him. Ulrich lifted his  gaze and stared across the expanse of the water meadow. Growing out of the water was a thick mat of long stemmed plants that looked like a cross between mint and stinging nettles, except that their leaves were a dusty blue. Here the scent was so potent that even Ulrich could smell it, sweet but not overly cloying and he noticed that there wasn't one single mosquito any where around, even though there was all that still water. Ulrich peered more closely, at the distance. 

"I've found a campsite!" Ulrich cupped his hands so his shout would carry.

"You hear that, Tikrumpdel?" Thorian beamed, "Ulrich's found us a place."

"Ugh," Tikrumpdel replied as he pulled himself forward.

"Sir Ulrich?" Tasnar looked around and realised that Ulrich was no longer there.

"Bat squit on a stick!" he swore, "You turned your back for a minute!"

"Not so loud," Quenril muttered and Tasnar subsided, grinding his teeth but then his mouth opened as the water meadow spread out before them. Tikrumpdel halted at the edge of the blue plant and buried his face into it with a happy mumbled. Jeremiah ignored the goings on grandly, directing Nanny Tatters to cross the river to the dry meadow that lay in the distance from where Ulrich was standing by the edge of the water meadow.

Ulrich backed up and then took a running jump to scramble up Tikrumpdel's side.

"Sorry about that chaps, had to find out what was making Tik here go all strange in the head," he smiled at the scowling Tasnar. The said Tikrumpdel stretched his neck out into the water meadow and rubbed it back and forth.

"Oh Celestial Lord!" Estella cried out, "All abroad people, this dragon is going to roll at any moment now."

"Why?" Sabal demanded.

"We'll explain about cats and cat mint later," Kaelin stated, taking to the air.

"Marmaduke," Ulrich instructed, "Be a gentleman please and take the ladies across the water to the meadow there." He pointed. Marmaduke made a grinding sound and then picked Estella and Alina up and sat them on his shoulders before turning to slide down Tikrumpdel's side that was closest to the meadow. Both Estella and Alina squeaked as Marmaduke plunged down Tikrumpdel's side, their stomachs apparently left behind on Tikrumpdel's back and then there was the splash as they hit the water. With a sucking squelch Marmaduke pulled his circular foot out of the mud of the water meadow and started walking across to the meadow, his progress marked by the noise of mud sucking and slurping.

"All abroad," Ulrich called to Quenril and his kin. Quenril groaned as he stood but the shudders running through Tikrumpdel's form convinced him to shift himself and scramble on to Weatherall's shell with Ulrich and his kin.

"Hey what about me?" Thorian called and then there was a shrill whistle and suddenly Peter was there at his side, whistling, waving his antennae. 

"Gee thanks," Thorian grinned and sat down on Peter's back. Peter grunted but ws then running down Tikrumpdel's side, plunging towards the water meadow much faster then expected as the dragon started to roll over. Peter ran, he ran as fast as he could, charging over the stems of the plant that seemed to have Tikrumpdel in total thrall, Thorian hanging on and whooping as the dragon's bulk threatened to crush him and then they were out of the dragon's shadow and away. Peter did miss his footing and splashed down in the water as Tikrumpdel flopped, his weigh shaking the ground and sending ripples racing across the surface of the water meadow but he pulled himself out and kept going.

"How's that?" Thorian grinned as Peter rippled up on to the dry land of the meadow proper then he ducked as a shadow passed over him. Nanny Tatters splashed down in the water meadow at the angle calculated to send the water flying up and over Thorian and Peter, soaking them to the bones.

"What was that for?" Thorian demanded.

"My dear Thorian," Jeremiah smiled from where he was sat on a log while his vigor pack barrier and Ash Elf puppet set about erecting his tent, "It would be churlish of me to deny my servant half a day off. Anyone would believe that I was a slave driver and they do seem to be enjoying themselves so very much."

Out in the meadow, Tikrumpdel had the top of his head buried in the water plants and was humped up, back bent, back feet pushing him further into the meadow then he over toppled and slammed down. The ground shook underneath the King's Special as the force of it rippled out. Somewhere in the mountains something rumbled, dust rising around a bluff. Tikrumpdel didn't care, stretching out to his full length and then curling back the other way, trying to grab a back foot. He rolled one way and then the other, twisting and turning as he foot remained stubbornly out of reach, his paunch getting in the way all the time. He gave up and settled for a fist, stuffing the whole thing into his mouth and sucking on it, dribbling and drooling, tongue lolling.

Nanny Tatters stretched out and swept her forelimbs down to her sides as if she was swimming through the water meadow, her one great eye glazed and unfocused, the pupil blown wide. She rolled from side to side, a rippling wave of flesh coated in shreds of the water plant. She could get hold of a back foot and she curled up, sucking on her toes contentedly.

Ulrich watched them for an moment and then turned to watch where Estella and Alina were helping to gather wood for the camp fire that Kaelin and Thorian were building. Every now and then Estella was looking over at the two dragons where they frolicked in the meadow and her left eye seemed more deeply shadowed than it should have been.

 "Estella," Ulrich called, walking over, "Can I ask Valodrael a question?"

She gave him a long hard look, obviously searching for the catch but unable to see it.

"I'll ask," she said and then tilted her head slightly before speaking again, "Val? Do you mind?"

Valodrael's darkness filled her eyes a moment later.

"Yes?" he asked cautiously.

"You know that you dragons have something of a grand image?" Ulrich asked.

"And is it not earned?" Valodrael challenged.

"That's the point," Ulrich couldn't quite suppress a smile, "Right now its not being earned. Is this how you really are?" He swept an arm to encompass Tikrumpdel's quivering form and Nanny Tatters limp body star fished across the meadow.

"We all have our vices, some less savoury than others," Valodrael conceded, "You humans have that vile smelling drink called beer, do you not?"

"Ah," Ulrich held up a finger, "But the humans who indulge in beer are low brow people. Wine is the drink of the quality people and we do not indulge so haphazardly. You dragons put out that you are of a higher nature than us lesser races and now it turns out you are like this, no better than a cat with a patch of cat nip!"

"Only some us," Valodrael admitted, a dangerous light in his eyes.

"Ah," Ulrich held up that finger again, nearly booping Estella on the nose, "But you'd like to be in there, wouldn't you?"

Estella/Valodrael was silent for a long moment.

"Well to do that I'd have to have my own flesh and blood again, wouldn't I?" Valodrael's smile held a sick edge to it.

"I thought so!" Ulrich smacked his hands together with a grin, "You would be out there if you had a chance! You'd love to be out there. You're a big softy!"

Estella's lip lifted in a snarl that was all Valodrael.

"Oh you act all tough and vicious," Ulrich flipped a hand, "But really you are nothing but a big softy."

Estella's hands clenched, tears of black trailing down her cheeks, teeth bared, snarl caged behind them. Valodrael thrashed with frustration. He was too hungry to risk going separate from Estella without a certain food source on offer and she was too vulnerable to attack for him to eat Ulrich. Oh he could probably take at least half of the King's Special but all it took was one Ash Elf bolt to avenge Ulrich and he'd lose his hoard in one moment. He hadn't wanted to scream this hard since he was crawling across the Abyssal Plain. Madness boiled inside his mind.

"Who knows?" Ulrich was still grinning, "Perhaps we will all ride into the Capital on the backs of dragons to the tune of Rule Portasia."

"Try me," Valodrael rumbled from Estella's throat.

"Did someone request Rule Portasia?" Kaelin asked, swinging Haggis round and preparing to tune up.

"No!" Valodrael snarled, his ire finding a new target.

Ulrich, still grinning, turned to go and help Sabal and Tasnar set up a tent.

"I'm going to die to Softy the dragon," he muttered, his grin becoming more than a little fixed.

"No," Valodrael rumbled behind him, "That would be too easy." He stepped back from dual control and coiled up in a corner of Estella's mind to contemplate Ulrich's fate. It was not helped by seeing Jeremiah smiling as he watched the show. Valodrael fought not to scream or bite someone. 

Once the fire was burning merrily, Kaelin took off, winging away over the forest. Thorian rolled up his sleeves and dug through their supplies, chopping and stirring until a pot bubbled cleanly on the edge of the fire. Estella kept digging through the edge of the forest, pulling out arm after arm load of wood, muttering and murmuring to herself and occasionally sending dark looks Ulrich's way. It was unclear if she was trying to molify Valodrael's temper or wheter she was co-conspiritor in his revenge plot. It could run either way. She also occasionally glanced at the water meadow where Tikrumpdel and Nanny Tatters seemed to be now having a game of patty paws, though neither of them seemed to be winning as neither were putting in that much effort. Estella suddenly had a speculative look on her face.

"So would this stuff work on a dragon who had gone human?" she asked suddenly.

"Now don't you start!" he snapped.

"Oh no, no, not like that!" she smiled, "I was more thinking about if a girl is feeling a little neglected and wants to get her guys attention. it rather opens up all sorts of avenues doesn't it?"

Valodrael went still, a slightly worried still.

"You see," Estella beamed, "You're not the only one who can tease."

A little way away Alina picked through the plants of the meadows, sometimes plucking stem or flower, sometimes kneeling to dig up a root. When she reached a clump of willow she chose a branch and, with a borrowed knife, stripped the bark off a patch to find the green pap beneath. She took a fair amount of that. Turning back to the camp fire she burrowed, using gestures to communicate, a pair of tin mugs. Filling them water from Ulrich's steaming kettle, she bean sorting her finds. Some went in one mug, some in the other and some where divded between both. Some were steeped in the water and then mashed to a paste which she bound around her own throat as a poltice. Others were left to bubble in the water with her carefully topping up the level in the mugs to gain the greatest potency without boiling the mugs dry.the other she carried over to where Quenril was sat in the shade looking miserable.

"Here," Alina husked, "Drink. Feel better."

Quenril looked up at her through squinted eyes and then reached for the cup. His hands shock so she knelt beside him and helped him get it to his mouth without spilling. He grimace and shuddered but gave into her insistance that he finish the whole thing. She laid a hand on his chest, finger tips walking along under his collar bone.

"What are you doing?" he asked. She held a finger to her lips.

"Healing," she said simply, walking her finger tips along the other collar bone. Standing, she stepped round behind him and began filling along his throat and the back of his neck.

"Have to admit, that's helping the headache," he muttered as she reached the base of his skull.

She nodded but didn't say anything, removing his hat so she could burrow her fingers into his hair, fingers gently but firmly feeling for the suture lines of the skull below the scalp, working out where the pressure points that caused flex were.

The crack was loud enough to make Ulrich jump.

"What on Hestia?" he demanded, spinning round to see Quenril sitting up with a look of relief plastered on his face.

"Wow," Quenril smiled, "Oh. It's gone, the headach's gone!"

Alina smiled as she handed him his hat back.

"Rest eyes," she instructed, "No more knocks for two days then all good." She whinced and put a hand to her own throat, rubbing the scarf that held the poltice in place.

Thorian stood up and carried the cup he had left to cool over.

"Not so much talking from you," he said, handing her the mug, "You got to rest that voice of yours." 

She nodded in agreement and thanks and took the mug, gargling another mouthful of the potion and then spitting it out.

"You take the tent," Ulrich jabbed a finger at what he, Tasnar and Sabal had managed to mock up. "Keep those eyes out of the sun for a few days. Should be safe for you to sleep now."

Quenril nodded and then whinced, the inside of his skull still tender. He turned and flipped the tent flap out of the way, laying down in the shade and closing his eyes.

Kaelin thudded down by the camp fire, throwing down a brace of young rabbits, a hare and a small deer not much bigger than a dog.

"How's that?" she beamed, "I can sure get used to having these wings, makes in much easier to find the prey, especially when someone has been making a load of noise." She looked to where the two dragons seemed to have doozed off in their own personal heaven.

"Feeling sleepy yet?" Ulrich asked Estella but he wasn't really asking Estella. She gave him a long flat look.

"Keep on digging," she murmured, "Keep on digging, at this rate you'll be six foot down."

Thorian was skinning and cleaning Kaelin's offerings. Soon the smell of roasting meat was rising from the fire place.

It was a good time. Even Kaelin admitted that later. It was one of those moments where the world takes a breath, takes a pause, gives the chance to catch your breath and take a rest. The sunset over the mountains was a fire of oranges and reds, laced with purple clouds.

Quenril, Tasnar and Sabal were fascinated by this ceiling that changed, laying on their backs after dinner staring into the depth of space, watching the stars begin to show.

"They are like the kerveads," Sabal wondered, "But they don't seem to swarm."

"They don't," Ulrich agreed, "They move in a set pattern every night. If you know the pattern then you can find your way."

Estella came closer to listen in on this lesson in the conslatations and navigation but didn't say anything, gazing into the dark, remembering a different set of constalations, the patterns of her home country, wondering what had happened there since she had left. She wondered if her mother was safe and whether her sisters had been married to men who would treat them gently. The problem was that she doubted it. She wrapped her arms around her chest and supressed a sigh. There was nothing she could do about it after all, it was just that, somedays, it was harder than others to not let the worry consume her. She closed her eyes and breathed a prayer to her mother, praying that the ancestors would let her mother know that she was safe and that at least one of her daughters was as happy as it was possible to be. It was all she had after all.

"Yes, but what are they made of," Tasnar asked, "What can hang lights in the sky? What holds them up?"

"They are the ancestors," Thorian said, "That's were you go if you did your life right, you go up there so you can point the way for the children that come after you. That's the great hunting ground where you fight the creatures of the dark to keep them away from the world of the children, keep 'em safe. There ain't nothing down here, the children can't take care of, its the stuff up there that's the scary stuff."

"That is one of the schools of thought," Ulrich admitted, "Others think that they are the fires of the gods, moving in patterns that reflect the thoughts of the gods and that is why occasionally, extremely rarely in fact, one of them will burst and fade out. It is believed that the gods have disposed of a thought they no longer want."

"Nah," Thorian shook his head, "That's one of the great chiefs of the past coming back to the world of the children again. Mah people are always on the look out when we see that, it means that something big is coming our way, something that is going to shake the whole world."

"Oh and has it ever happened for real?" Jeremiah asked, "Or is it just a bed time story told to keep children happy?"

"Course its happened for real," Thorian answered back, "Happened just before I was born, the chiefs were still looking for the new big chef when I left. I would have liked to have met the big chef but I'm too odd for him to want to have me about."

"Still others say that they are the homes of the gods," Ulrich continued the lesson, "That the ones that fade and go out are the gods who no longer have believers and therefore their hearth stones have gone cold. They say that the biggest, most powerful god, the one who does not need followers lives out beyond them. They call that god The-One-Who-Creates-All-Things-By-Thought and he is said to live in a palace beyond the sun and stars."

"Now wouldn't that be something to see," Quenril said quietly, "The-One-Who-Creates-All-Things-By-Thought and their palace. That would be something else to see."

Gradually one by one their voices fell silence, the warm, dark night lulling them to sleep. Kaelin shuffled her wings, where she was perched in a tree and then her head drooped to her chest and she began to wheeze a very quiet snore.

Alina, pulled out a sheperd's tin whistle and began playing a quiet tune, deepening the sense of rest over the camp. After a while a large owl, its belly speckled brown and white, its face striped in camouflage shades winged silently out of the night and landed in a tree not far from the King's Special and their allies. It silently settled its plumage and then turned its head to look over it back at the camp site, raising two ear tufts as it blinked vast orange eyes.

Jeremiah watched sluggishly as Alina turned slightly to the owl and continued to pipe. After a while the owl puffed up a patch of feathers at the base of its facial disk and started singing back, a series of short, one notes calls followed by a longer two note call. There was a definite pattern to the sounds and Alina seemed to have altered her melody to match the night creature's song. Jeremiah stretched and rolled over with a yawn, stratching his stomach. It was nothing that he was interested in so he let his eyes drift closed.

The following morning dawned bright but chill, dew clinging to the meadow grasses and herbs, out lining them all in silver. Kaelin frowned as she flapped down to the fire and pocked it awake, smelling like a bag of wet feathers because that was what she was. They seemed to be missing someone but then Alina walked out of the morning mist, carrying an apron full of meadow herbs. She had changed back to her own clothes at some point in the night and she nodded to Kaelin as she came, setting down her bounty before picking up the blankets with which they had clothed her the day before. She smiled at Kaelin as she held them out.

"Thanks," Kaelin grunted as she took them and turned away to repack them, face sour with the fact that the new day had arrived so cheerfully. Alina smiled and set the kettle on the fire.

"Oh," Tasnar stretched as he stepped up to the fire sometime later, "Is that hot leaf juice by any chance and if so can I have some?"

"I beg your pardon," Ulrich frowned, "Hot leaf juice? I'll have you know that this is one of the finest blends of tea in the world."

"That's what I said," Tasnar yawned and somehow snagged a cup with his eyes closed, not spilling a drop in the process, "Hot leaf juice and I'm having some." He drink and whinced as he scourched his tongue but came back for more any way.

"Any bones for me?" a voice rumbled as they breakfasted on travel bread and cold cuts.

Tikrumpdel's massive bulk made the ground shuddered as he flopped half in and half out of the water meadow.

"Surely you are dining on the contents of the water meadow?" Jeremiah asked sweetly.

"No," Tikrumpdel shook his head sadly, "Not enough of the stuff left, will have to leave it a couple of weeks for it to grow back." He scratched the base of a horn with a wing thumb claw. "Look sorry about that, this wasn't here when I went to have my sleep and I didn't think this stuff was going to hit me so hard after being away from it for so long."

"Nah problem," Thorian grinned, "Gave us the chance to have a proper rest."

"Oh Valodrael, I think there's a patch of it left over there for you," Ulrich called quietly. Estella's left eye went black and gave him a long, flatly unfriendly look but they didn't say anything.

Tikrumpdel crunched up the skeletons of the previous night's kills with relish while Jermiah cast a judgemental eye over Nanny Tatters, commanding the Ash Elf puppet to pick all the pieces of dragon mint off her hide.

Camp was broken quickly and quietly and they pushed on up river, Kaelin winging ahead as an air born scout. Jeremiah however, was quite content for his wings to be just decoration as he sat on Nanny Tatters' head, looking out over the world as if he owned everything in sight, Nanny Tatters padding along with stately pace as the Ash Elf puppet continued to pick off bits of foliage off her scales and toss them over board.

 On the other side of the river, the one that didn't require wadding to get to, the rest of the King's Special walked along, Peter a lot happier that his master had chosen him that day to ride, Marmaduke dully bonging along by their side, while Weatherall darted up the river edge in a series of jerky movements, picking edible bits up and popping them in his grinding mouth. It was a good day for a walk, not too bright, not too hot and nothing seemed to want to bother them. Granted that could have been because of the massive dragon wallowing up the river with them, causing waves to break along the bank but they took the good luck where they could get it.

As the sun continued to climb towards time for a mid morning snack the character of the forest changed, becoming more open between the trunks, with less undergrowth but darker at the same time, the drifts of autumn droped leaves turning to piles of pine needles that crunched under foot.

Then all of a sudden there was a wall of branches just in front of them, bright sunlight glaring just beyond it. They looked at it for a long moment.

"Well, can't get any were goggling at it chaps," Ulrich shrugged and pushed his way through it, his Ash Elf friends going with him. The rest followed.

The meadow was broad and ran all the way from the mountain to the edge of the river with an edge so straight it could have been laid down with a ruler. The grasses and flowers nodded their heads as the early morning breeze blew in little puffs, chasing the fleecy clouds across the sky.

"Oh this is just perfect," Thorian smiled as he loked about. Born and bred in the mountains he knew that this was the path of the roaring white. If he had spoke to the others, they would have told him that the human word was avalanche but he knew it as the roaring white beast, a dangerous creature of the mountain that killed without devouring its prey, their bodies found the following spring as the snows receded. But at the same time, these clearings that it made in the forest were good hunting places in the times of deep snows, the prey struggling to make head way as it slogged through the drifts. There would be good eating for a tribe who could claim this place, risky as you never knew when the roaring white beast would come again, but a good hunting place none the less.

He looked around again and noticed what had caught the attention of everybody else in the King's Special, even Jeremiah telling Nanny Tatters to stop. Tikrumpdel lifted his head as he hauled himself just passed the edge of the forest and then he bowed it in a gesture of profound respect.

The woman who stood on the swell of the turf was knarlled and withered as an old tree, her face weathered and wrinkled into a map of valleys and hills, her knuckles swollen with the use of years. Her homespun skirt and apron flapped round her ankles, the tassles of her shawl dancing in the breeze. Her straggling hair was a wide mess of grey and white, with only a streak or two black to show that it was once as dark and lustrious as Alina's. She leaned on a stout staff thicker than her wrist as she peered at them, her eyes still as sharp and piercing as the day she was born but the brows above them where draw and knotted above a nose so hooked it resembled a cheese knife while the chin below, while not as long as the stories described, was pointed and sharp.

She stood resolute and solid, a tree turned to more than rock, turned to iron, watching them and her gaze said louder than words that they had better not turn their backs and walk away.

Kaelin span down and landed on the turf, rustling her pinions into place. The old woman raised an eyebrow but didn't flinch. Her grey eyes said that she saw them, saw them all and saw more than just their faces. She saw the wolf in Kaelin, the hurt boy in Ulrich, the large heart in Thorian, the dragon in Estella and the god in Jeremiah and she was afraid of none of it.

Taking a deep collective breath the King's Special and their allies stepped forward to meet her.