"She's hurt!" Yelled Damia from where she was perching on the tree. Devon, Ria, and Doku rushed to Elira's side. She did not stir from her haze of unconsciousness. Blood came in waves out of a gaping three-inch wound on her inner thigh, spilling onto the cold dirt, mixing with the blood and gore of the slain Myr'l.

Devon fought the tide of panic as the pungent reek of blood hit her nostrils. Staunch the bleeding, her healer's mind took over, and Devon found herself trying desperately to close the deep wound with her fingers, while the crimson flowed out around them.

Ria was watching grimly. "It's not going to work. She is going to need stitches. If only I had my needlework kit on me..."

"She won't need stitches, if we're lucky," Devon said. She took a deep breath and willed herself to focus on Elira's flesh beneath the sticky blood, the flow now slowed to a dull trickle. It wasn't as if Devon had never seen this much blood before. But this particular situation, a two-finger deep gash taken to the thigh of a murderous mercenary cat, this Devon had never dealt with before. The warm glow of green-flecked light gathered around her hand. Please, let all the human parts still apply to the Myr'l species. She pictured the wound in her mind, examining it with her mind's eye. Her minds' hands strained to weave every broken muscle, nerve, vessel, and skin.

Devon opened her eyes. The wound had healed completely, leaving behind a long pink scar.

"Huh." Ria said bemusedly. "Impressive. Have you had that your whole life?"

"The ability to heal? I...think so. It took years to train it into something useful though." Devon smiled. "And I'm still learning how to cure some things."

"So is Elira all better now?" Damia asked Devon.

"She's lost a lot of blood, but otherwise yes," Devon said, as she moved Elira to a more comfortable position, away from the bloodied soil. "Doku, are you alright?" she asked.

"It is not that bad," Doku said, showing the rows of cuts sliced across the soft insides of her arms. The scales on her hands and back were a bit scuffed, but otherwise they had protected her well.

"Can I try to heal it?" asked Damia. "I'd like to know if healing Devon's shoulder earlier was just an accident...or..." she trailed off pensively.

Doku shrugged. Damia nodded and placed her delicate hand on Doku's forehead. She took several deep breaths. A moment passed.

Oh. Illithya.

A sickening wave hit Devon, and her body lurched. She felt as if she was being forced to vomit. It was as if her very being, her core was being ripped from her.

"It's not working," commented Ria worriedly, glancing at Doku's raw cuts.

"I'll try harder," Damia breathed, and her fairy brows knotted in concentration.

Devon's head spun and she felt strangely…emptied. She felt Doku's wounds begin to seal. She felt the scaly warmth of Doku's arm. But she wasn't touching Doku at all. Devon held a hand up for Damia to halt.

The fairy cocked her head curiously at Devon. "What's wrong?"

"Are you sure it's you doing the healing?" she gasped. "Because I think… you're healing Doku through me."

Damia withdrew her hand from Doku's forehead as if it had scalded her. "Oh no… but... I can do that?"

"Fairies can channel others' magic into themselves?" Ria asked.

Damia quietened thoughtfully. "If I did it for Devon's healing magic… then I think so."

Devon frowned. Was this some sort of personal violation? Her magic was hers, it was born with her and would die with her. And for a fairy to rip it from her so easily…

"Damia? Can you promise never to try that again? Except in emergencies. Like when you healed my shoulder... I forgot to thank you for that."

Damia nodded understanding, her eyes open wide and bright. "I promise."

Elira stirred from her slumber. Opening her eyes, she moved her legs tentatively, perhaps feeling the ghost of an old wound. Reassured and unshaken by the sight of the blood staining the dirt, she stood up and grinned.

"Seems to be back in service." Elira began to look around, taking careful note of the two Myr'l corpses littering the ground. Elira fumbled amidst their torn bodies, removing their boots, clothes, and armour, and pocketing the three daggers, a fire torch, two wooden swords, a waterskin, a fishing hook, and a strand of twine. These she spread out on the ground in front of the group.

"Waste not, want not," she explained matter-of-factly. Devon grimaced. How can she find no sympathy for the dead? "Take it," Elira motioned to them.

Devon reluctantly picked up a dagger. A weapon to kill or be killed with, right? Ria picked up the soiled garments with distaste. "Well," she said, "at least they're not as torn as the ones I'm wearing now. These clothes and I need a bath. Badly." The remaining loot was divided amongst them.

"Alright," Devon sighed, "we've plundered the slain. What now?"

"We get the hell out of here," Elira replied.

The group of five hiked silently through the brush and into the depths of the tropical forest in the light of the waning sun. Elira led the way with a self-assurance that did not betray her wariness. Doku closed the pack in, and destroyed their tracks as they journeyed on. The only sounds came from the hypnotic seelaw, seelaw of the exotic birds settling down for the night and the rustling of trees as nocturnal animals hopped amidst the dense treetops.

They approached a small area of less dense brush before nightfall. Doku flicked her tongue out and in, like a snake. "I smell fresh water."

"I can't see anything," Devon said.

"Human eyes. Useless in the dark," the Myr'l complained. "We might as well stop for the night. You humans could lose yourselves in here. Or get yourselves killed when you trip on something poisonous. I'll take the first watch."

"We all need some rest," Ria nodded, "and I need a bath. Doku… where is this fresh water you say?"

--

"The Rogue spy, commander Gidall."

A square of light appeared on the floor of Calhan's dank cell. The first light to grace his eyes in... how many days has he been sprawled here, with an old outfit on and a heavy collar of cold stone around his neck? All he remembered was that night on the Karanene, that bloody invasion by those who he presumed were now his warders. All of a sudden the memories of that fight came rushing back to him. All the mercenaries on the boat were dead. He thought he had seen the cat take off with the fairy and the girl called Ria. And Devon? He hoped to Illithya that she escaped with the rest of them. Off the boat and to safety. Wherever that was now.

A grim, clean-cut face appeared in the grille set in the heavy door, followed by the clanking of locks being released. The owner of the face was garbed in traditional Tyball military robes, silver on blue. His boots bore the rank of commander. Beside him, a young lieutenant flitted about.

"Well done, lieutenant. A bit rough for wear, but that will not significantly hinder our investigation." The Tyball commander signalled Calhan to rise. A couple of security brawn grabbed hold of Calhan and dragged him in the commander's wake down the dungeon corridor and through a maze of doors and stairways. Calhan was led into a small room furnished with a single wooden chair. All right. This was definitely interrogation time. What had he learned though all the years of espionage training? You can't reveal what you don't know. Unfortunately Calhan felt he already knew too much. His single-dose vial of bellflower poison was created for situations like this. Also unfortunately, it had been lost in the disorienting journey at sea.

"Thank you lieutenant Kelsik. You may go." The commander motioned to the nervous lieutenant, who seemed a little relieved to be dismissed. Calhan steeled himself and took the chair. The brawn stationed themselves on either side of him.

"Well. I have you at last," smirked the Tyball commander, all the while staring intently at Calhan. Trying to break him. "You know, his Highness has been extremely displeased with you, traipsing around the country like you owned the goddamned place. And now we find you on the Karanene, set for Tyball yet again. Why were you on the boat?" the commander demanded.

"I oversaw the shipment of the powdered jayo root," Calhan muttered. "Seven crates." If they hadn't all sunk with the boat. He grimaced.

"The shipment was Hans and Jerome's job," the commander growled. "And they're dead."

"What do you want from me," Calhan met the commander's eyes. Steel met fire. The commander tightened his fist around something round and hard, a dark stone with a liquid sheen. Suddenly, a wave of dizzying, electrifying pain tore through Calhan's body, emanating from the stone collar and ripping to his very core. It knocked him off the chair.

"Why were you on the Karanene?" The commander repeated, louder.

Calhan, still recovering from the shock, was silent for a second too long. The fist squeezed again. Fire can bend steel. It surprised Calhan how easily the words poured out, when pain took hold of his better judgement.

"I was reassigned to spy on Tyball operations. I had to find out how the Prince acquired his power and to destroy its source. I had to protect a friend…" Calhan trailed off. A friend? Was that all Devon was? The shards of pain still pricked Calhan's skull. He hesitated only momentarily before blurting, "She was with others. They boarded the Karanene on a mission to fight Tyball. A girl, and another who looked like a snake…"

The commander toyed with the stone, stroking its gleaming surface. "Who else?"

"And a fairy."

The commander paused. "What was this fairy's name?"

"De...Do...Damia. Yes. Damia."

"Where are they now?"

"The cat took them away. I think they got off the boat. I don't know if they are alive or dead."

"How interesting," the commander said slowly. He shifted and started for the door. "I thank you for your time, Calhan." As the commander exited, he squeezed the stone in a mock salute, leaving the Rogue spy convulsing in his private agony.

--

Devon opened her eyes and blinked in the dim light of morning. She untangled herself from the leafy thicket that wasn't there when she had lain down earlier. The plants here must be stirred by her nature magic, drawn to the strange new energy like moths to light. She had hardly slept that night; the rustles and cries of the creatures of the night were harsh to her city-bred ears. And when she slept, she dreamt of Calhan, left behind on the Karanene. If I never see him again... Calhan was her only link to that life she left behind. The Rogue's life. She was here now, in an eclectic army of soldiers each fighting against their personal evils.

Devon silently observed her companions. Doku had taken the last watch; she was sitting stiffly and gazing into the distance. There seemed to be a cloud of sorrow or anger in her every movement, breath, being. Ria and Damia were sleeping. Ria's eyelids were fluttering wildly. Do demons haunt her dreams too? And Damia...who knows what secrets the fairy keeps.

Elira was no where to be seen. Devon couldn't begin to comprehend the Myr'l species. Living so alone on this island, where the perils outweighed the profits, where hostility stained the earth red. And where the value of a life was measured on its usefulness? No Devon. You wouldn't understand. No wonder Elira made such a ruthless mercenary.

Branches snapped. Devon whipped around to face Elira, who was carrying a bunch of leafy shoots and boughs full of shiny red berries. "It's not poisonous," Elira said as she sat down. Ria stirred and Damia flew down from her tree perch.

"I can't believe I just spent the night sleeping on the ground," Ria muttered. "Those birds never shut up at night, do they?"

"Never," Devon smiled wryly.

They ate the meagre rations without talking. Afterward, they erased any trace of their presence at the small clearing. Elira led them forward and into the forest once more.

As the sun reached its apex and the light filtered through the trees, Devon spied a tall wooden post wedged into a tree. The post had a few exotic markings with red and yellow dyes. As they came closer, Elira eyes widened as she recognized the meaning of it. As the others eyed her curiously, she motioned for them to halt.

"What's the wooden stick for?" Damia asked.

Elira ran her claws through her hair. "This is R'lau territory. The R'lau are allies of the Yitel tribe. Who, as we found out yesterday, aren't exactly open to visitors."

Devon sighed. "Get ready for trouble."