She'd always hated the sound of screaming.

It wasn't as entirely obvious as it seemed. For as long as she could remember, Doku had just hated the sound. When she and her older sister had gone on their first solo hunt, and Yurusu had managed to get bitten hard on her thumb by a jackal pup, she'd screamed the whole way home. Doku had tried to calm her down, comfort her, make her shut up, but nothing had worked. It wasn't until mother had kissed her and hugged her and sung to her that the screaming turned to sobs then silence. And Doku had never, ever let her live it down.

There wasn't supposed to be any shame in it. People screamed in pain or fright; it was normal. She'd babysat the twins once or twice when the elders were in council with the Oracle, and they'd screamed as well. Everyone did it, always, except Doku. She didn't understand it, and maybe that made her a bit weird.

Things had made her want to scream. Screams had made her want to scream. Screams that circled through her brain and made the muscles in her chest knot. Screams that woke her in the night, on the tip of her tongue, begging for release.

The girl was screaming now. The fairy could have easily shut her up if she'd moved the three centimetres separating them, but she didn't. They were both, Doku decided, a little too frightened by the blood coming out of the man's nose to do much of anything.

If only she'd learned to control her temper, but that was another thing she never could do.

"You cock-eyed whore," the man shouted, squeezing his nose together with two fingers from either hand and turning away. "What did you do that for?"

"Maybe to get your attention," she replied lazily, her once disabling accent now only a faint buzz at the back of her throat. "I have it now, yes?"

He looked up at her out of the corner of his eye. His shoulders lifted impatiently, his mouth twisted into an angry glower. "Yes, you have my bloody attention. Ilithya! If you broke my nose, you're going to regret it."

"Ah, mmm…" She let herself be smug, dropping her shoulders, ticking her chin out just past the shadow of her hood, standing with self-satisfaction radiating from head to toe. Lazy. Casual. Smirking. He seemed the type to lose himself in anger, so she would make him angry first. "Will you answer a question?"

"Crazy…" He still seemed to be talking more to himself than to her. She wouldn't have even heard it except that the girl had stopped screaming and was inside staring uncomfortably at the Myr'l who'd appeared by her shoulder. Everyone seemed to be watching their exchange now which Doku found odd because she hadn't done more than punch him. Not yet, at least.

She did not like to repeat herself. "Will you answer a question?"

"What?!" he snapped, poking his nose gingerly in a way she knew would've hurt like hell if his nose had been really broken. She'd had enough broken noses to know that.

"Did you sell this to a man named Zigler?" And with a hint of dramatic flair, she pulled a necklace out of the pouch at her waist. Green-blue scales danced in barlights like supernovas.

The man was wary now. He straightened finally, arms falling away from his nose to his sides. "Why?"

She was supposed to be the one asking questions, but it was reasonable enough to answer. "Maybe I am interested in doing business." The answer was slow, choked out and an utter lie.

The girl in the ring of spectators gasped slightly, her breath hitching just enough to disturb the air waves. "That's a Rothelien necklace, you can't--"

"Interested in business, eh?" The man grinned. "Well then we might have something to talk about after all. Though I'm a little surprised Zigler told you where to find me. He's not - supposed - to do that."

"No," she agreed in a cold voice that sounded no different than before, "he is not."

Suddenly, they were toe to toe. Distance, or lack thereof, cancelled out the shadow of her hood, and the man's eyes twitched in sudden realization. "Ah," was all he said before his fist came fast at her shoulder.

They were toe to toe, Doku barely dodging the blow, slipping past the man's white, gristly knuckles and dropping low. It happened fast. Like her counter, an upward push, ball of the palm into soft underbelly. Fast like the man's feint, like the blade that slipped out of his sleeve, like the quick twist of his body and the sudden lurch forward of his wrist. Doku shifted her balance, snapped her hand up and--

"Ah!"

--and then his eyes went wide and bright with pain.

He doubled over, fingers splayed against his ribcage. “Snakes,” he said in a breathy, wheezing voice, so low that only she could hear, “your whole race is pathetic. Come to revenge your silly clan?”

“You killed them,” she said, matching his volume. She wasn't asking questions anymore.

"Yeah," he hobbled to the side to lean on a chair. "I did. And more besides. You planning on torturing me until I tell you all the people I worked with, eh?"

"No," she said and broke his neck.

He must have hit the ground, or maybe he just hung on his chair with one arm still draped over the frame. She didn't know because she had turned her back before he'd even finished twitching. The crowd was thinning now and for that she was thankful because soon there would be no one left to see her shaking.

"I can't… I can't believe that just happened." The fairy stuttered blinking rapidly in obvious confusion, staring at the man.

The girl seemed to have come to her senses slightly faster. "Life itself is a fight against death," she quoted solemnly, pressing an anguished hand to the pendant around her neck.

"What did you just say?" a voice demanded, and the girl and fairy turned to face another girl in the crowd. She was taller, slightly older, than the other two, and the man standing behind her frowning at the Myr'l was even taller.

The Myr'l snorted. "You humans have no sense of hearing. She said 'Life itself is a fight against death.'"

The new girl's eyebrows drew together in brief consternation. "I knew that; I meant--"

"Then why'd you ask?" The Myr'l asked in a lazy purr, seeming to take great amusement from irritating the girl, but at the same Doku could see the feline eyes sizing her up. Challenge? Threat? Respect? She couldn't tell.

"I meant," the new girl let out in an exasperated breath, "that phrase, I-- I knew someone who use to say something like that. Where did you hear it?"

The first girl looked shocked, briefly puzzled. "I," she paused testing her answer in her mouth before giving it voice. "My father says it-- said it often."

There was silence, not uncomfortable but strained all the same. The girls were looking at each other, and the fairy was glancing between them, waiting for someone's secrets to finally spill into the public domain. The Myr'l was still looking at Doku.

"You fight well," she said finally, one ear twitching a little and her head cocking slightly to the side. "You fight like you mean it." The compliment sounded grudging on the waves of her half-growl voice, but something like respect glinted briefly in her eyes, and Doku decided to accept the statement as truth. The Myr'l didn't seem the type to lie.

"I fight like I mean it," Doku answered, clenching her hands to stop the shaking. "I fight because I mean it," and for some reason this struck her as funny, so she laughed hoarsely.

The fairy cleared her throat. "Ria," she whispered, touching the girl on the shoulder. "We should, maybe--"

But the Myr'l raised her voice, and the end of the fairy's sentence was lost. "Would someone with, say, body mass take this corpse away? I think it's disturbing our guests." This was followed by an incendiary glance at the human girl that, Doku noted, had been standing there too long to really be the "new girl" anymore.

"Only murderers wouldn't be disturbed," the girl hissed, and her eyes flicked towards Doku for a moment.

"Murderers?" The Myr'l laugh-purred. "I'll just go home and not save your country then, shall I?"

"Fine - with - me."

"You're a mercenary?" This sudden realization came from the first girl, the one the fairy had called Ria, and she pulled away from the fairy's hand to join the other three. The fairy glanced around then sighed dramatically and followed.

The Myr'l's chin ticked up, not defensively, simply in acknowledgement. "Yeah. So?"

"I would..." Ria balked, wringing her hand in a little gesture of uncertainty as if she regretted having spoken. "I would like to speak to you about a… proposition." She opened her hand slightly, a sign taking in Doku and the Myr'l. "To... both of you."

The Myr'l shook her head wryly, her shoulders rolling forward in a dismissive shrug. "I've already got a job," and she began to turn away.

"My country is dying!" Ria cried suddenly, as if not entirely of her own will. There was something in the vibrato of her voice, something quavering between tears and fury, that made them all stop. "Are we to fight Tyball's swords with our faith alone? Our faith is strong but not as strong as steel. If their armies come, Achryn will crumble. The people will die, rot, and dissolve until there is naught to prove we ever were but the print of an ironclad foot in the earth. Our liberty is the enemy of our freedom. Our liberty to say 'This is not my problem.' Our liberty to shirk responsibility and lay it on another's shoulders. To fly, wings clutched cowardly to our chests, from the very duty that compels us to stand and fight. I will not fly from my duty. I will stand beside it, seek it out. I will not let my country die."

There was silence again, but it was no longer strained. This was a drained silence, a silence of emotional exhaustion and defeat, radiating from the girl who spoke with the voice of a ruler. Doku smiled; this Ria was very much like Yurusu had been.

The Myr'l seemed to consider this, cocking her head to the right. Finally, she flashed a quick, fanged grin. "Don't care."

"I can pay you." It was impossible to tell whether it was desperation dulling Ria's eyes or simply fatigue. "Take me to Tyball, and I shall pay whatever you ask."

Again the Myr'l seemed to consider, but then she laughed and shook her head. "Nope. Still don't care." She stepped toward Ria with easy grace. "It isn't about the money. You've got nothing to offer me but a surer death, and I don't find that particularly attractive, thanks." With another laugh, she stepped back and disappeared in the throng of men.

Ria stared for a moment before regaining composure; she turned to Doku with barely suppressed hope contained in the faint lines of her forehead. "Will...you?"

"I'll go!" The fairy chirped. "The way I see it, you still owe me for saving your life."

A squeak of protest escaped Ria's mouth. "You didn't--"

The fairy held up her hand and tutted cheerfully. "Don't be ungrateful, Ri. It doesn't suit you. I'll just stick around until you find a way to repay me, OK? Besides, fairy magic might come in handy." The fairy twitched her eyebrows significantly, although the significance was lost on Doku.

Ria's desperate edge softened. The lines Doku had seen puckering the place between her eyebrows faded. She smiled. "Thank you, Damia."

"I'll go too." The other human said in a voice slow with secrecy, startling everyone including the man at her elbow. "I have healing magic and can fight a little. I'll go too if you'll let me."

"You would risk your life for me?" Ria asked, caution mixed with curiosity. "Why?"

A bitter smile curled the corners of the girl's mouth. "Patriotism," she said, and Doku could hear the sarcasm in her tone. Ria, however, nodded slowly.

"Ok." And, that seemed to settle it. Finally, Ria's blue eyes turned back to Doku again. She didn't bother asking this time; she simply waited.

"To Tyball?" Doku asked.

Ria nodded seriously.

Doku looked toward the ceiling. “I have something I must do. But as long as it does not get in the way, I will take you to Tyball.”

Ria's shoulders heaved in a sigh. "Thank you. For... free?"

"For mostly free," Doku replied. "Nothing is completely free."

That, at least, was one lesson she'd been able to learn.