Omens

Explosions had ripped along my spine, jerking me around like a rag doll. Something was building up inside my chest, ready to erupt. Some part of my head knew that this would kill anything in it's path, but I had no control. Like being a bystander while watching a horrible accident as you take in every minute detail in the span of several seconds.
Something soft pressed against my lips and I was stunned by the feeling. It felt like the first touch I had ever received. A subtle pulling at my mind had the energies draining away. My lips moved on their own, though only slightly. A mas pulled away from me, and I blinked to try and comprehend what I was seeing.
A familiar face was looking down at me, a shock of blond hair sticking up at odd angles. Light amber eyes searched my face. A part of me seemed to click back into place. Demaren.
My heart weakly fluttered. I wanted to cry. I wanted to throw my arms up and hug him. I wanted to kiss him. Shout for joy. Tell him how I had missed him... But I was suddenly aware that my body felt dead. My arms only twitched in response when I tried to reach up and touch his face. As it was, I only managed to flex my fingers which lay over his arm.
"Demaren." I forced his name over my lips, trying to put all the feeling in my voice for the things I couldn't say. All will slipped out of me as if it were water in a sieve. My eyes closed in what seemed like the first time in an eternity and I drifted away.
I didn't know how long ago that was.
Dreaming meshed with daylight and swirled around my head so that I didn't know which was real and what was illusion. Darkness and whispers and dizzying winds raked over me. The only steady thing was Demaren. I couldn't be sure if he was a figment of my dreams too, but his voice, his face, his firm touch gave me something to anchor against.
Soft things were often pressed to my lips. Liquids, skin and cloth, feathers and lips. Sometimes I couldn't tell one from the other.
After drifting forever, a steady sound caught my attention. Water meeting wood. Or maybe it was just images in my head sloshing around.
My eyes cracked and were immediately stung by a piercing light. Despair flooded through me and I shut my eyes tight. Was I still in the white room? A small sound passed my lips. Something, a hand, brushed my bangs from my forehead.
Opening slowly, my eyes found not the strange, hard glowing lamps of an Eryn building but the sun directly over head in a light blue sky. Turning my head to the side, I blinked to clear the after image and found Demaren gazing at me steadily from where he sat at my left. His arms were crossed over his bare chest, feet folded up under him where he rested against a low wooden wall.
"Demaren?" my voice cracked sharply, like I hadn't talked in days. I licked my lips.
He looked serious, a wing ruffling a little before settling back into place. "Are you awake?"
"Yes?" I said, feeling slightly unsure. I would have to be awake or this was a very vivid dream.
"How do you feel?" he continued, leaning forward now and placing a hand on my head.
I relished the touch before he took it away. "Great...." I croaked.
Demaren's mouth twitched at the corner. "Well, that's not what is generally expected from someone who had cracked ribs, malnutrition, and couldn't keep her body temperature at a steady level."
I ignored this comment.
"Where are we?" I asked. I glanced around, noting the small pallet I lay on under a thick quilt and wearing a long sleeved night gown I had never seen before.
"We're on Jeron's boat. The Noon Day."
Something stirred in my memory. "Is Lia here?"
Demaren started. "Who?"
"Lia. The little girl..."
"How do you know Lia?" he asked, eyeing me curiously.
"Larii mentioned her, before... before I got to the City of the Eye."
"Oh," Demaren frowned at the mention of Eryn's capital city. "They're below deck."
"How did we get here?" I asked suddenly. "The sea is no where near the Eye."
Demaren paused, looking at me with an expression I couldn't place. "Don't you remember?"
Now I frowned. "Should I?"
Demaren ran a hand through his hair. "You were asleep most of the time, so I guess I shouldn't be surprised. Still, I was hoping for something..."
"It's all like dreams. I don't know what is real and what is not. How long have I been asleep?" I asked quietly. Surely I must have been gone a long time.
"Well, it's been six days since we retrieved you, and you were in and out of consciousness for the first three days. But after that, you were completely out."
I blinked. "It feels like longer," I stretched my legs a little. "Like I've been asleep forever."
He looked down at me with a dark sadness clouding his eyes. "I know how you feel."
With only a slight effort, I reached and took hold of the hand that rested on the pallet next to me.
"What do you remember?" he asked suddenly, his eyes intent and darkly flashing into mine.
"Er. Well," I thought for a moment, taken aback by his expression. "I remember you. Before there were just waves and light. But then you were there. I think. I thought you might be a dream and was afraid to wake up..."
Demaren's expression was guarded. "That wasn't a dream. Anything else coming to mind?"
I looked away and bit my lip to think, the sensation bringing something to the forefront of my mind. My free hand rose to lightly touch my lips. The flutter of a memory stirred.
"If I have to eat anymore mushy I'll be sick," I stated flatly.
Demaren blinked then gave a little laugh. Frustrated. "Not if I have anything to say about it, but we'll talk to Sam."
"The other--" I was confused by the unfamiliar name, "Wait. Who?"
"Me," said an Erynese boy, coming up and sitting next to me.
Startled by his sudden appearance, I flinched. His short blond hair shone in the sun as he smiled politely down at me.
"Don't worry. I will not urt you," he said, his accent heavy.
"Samil's been a big help with you and your unconsciousness," Demaren clarified.
The boy's hands were prodding at me. His touch was gentle but clinical, as he rested his hand against my forehead and the pulse at my throat.
"I ave medical training," he said conversationally as he worked.
"Aren't you a little young?" I asked, eyeing a little, round metal device attached to two tubes he was pulling out of a bag.
He stopped what he was doing and frowned at me. "Wy does everyone say tat? I'm not tat young."
I glanced at Demaren, who was holding back a small smile. Samil continued his inspections, placing the tubes attached to the metal thing into his ears. He blew his breath on the flat part of the metal and leaned in to place it on my chest just below my collar bone. He seemed to listen for a moment then moved the object to the right and left before starting to move it down...
"Hey!" I squeaked, trying to shy away from him and moving my arms across my chest.
Samil looked quizzically at me for a moment, then extremely embarrassed.
"It's for listening to the eart, not wat you tink!"
I eyed him suspiciously. "My heart is fine, thanks."
Demaren furrowed his eyebrows at me. "Ashling..."
"No, it's alrit," Samil sighed. "Se is doing better," he smiled at me, "would you like some brot?"
I stared, wondering what 'brot' was until I replaced the 'h,' "Oh! Broth. Yes, please."
Sam nodded, ignoring my trouble with his accent and went down the stairs.
I looked back at Demaren triumphantly, "Ha! Broth!"
He smiled weakly, his lips pressed together in a thin line. My heart seemed to stutter at his expression. Maybe I had been wrong about it being fine and Samil should come back and check.
"What's wrong?" I whispered, moving my hand back to try and grasp his. He moved a little out of reach. My hand fell back to the blankets, my throat constricting.
Some commotion came from the stairwell Samil had disappeared into, making us look over. Larii was bounding up through the deck, circling Samil who seemed to be concentrating hard on not spilling the bowl between his hands. Following them came a little girl with red, curly hair, babbling in a dialect I didn't know.
"I am trying not to spill!" Sam said.
Larii scooped the little girl--I could only assume she was Lia--and tumbled playfully across the deck with her. They both laughed all the way.
After them came the huge lunking form of an avery...
"Oh," I said, surprised to see a creature from the Veil. The noise I made seemed to attract it's attention and it padded over with the grace of a giant cat.
"Can you sit up?" Sam was asking, he had knelt beside me with the bowl in his hands, but I only stared at the avery that came up to rest behind him.
It stretched it's long neck over Sam, it's big completely blue eyes level with mine. Tentatively, I reached out a hand. The avery's nose (or where a nose should be) came to meet my hand and I patted it's soft, buttery skin.
"You're the avery from the forest..." I said to the creature, suddenly very sure of myself.
The avery pulled it's head back slightly, cocking it's head like it was surprised. It looked at Demaren for a moment then turned back to me.
"Essentially... He's surprised you remember him," Demaren said.
"You'd be hard to forget," I told the avery. Then I looked at Demaren, "You can hear him?"
Demaren's head quirked to the side as he nodded.
"I guess I'm not the only one hearing voices," I murmured, patting the avery's 'nose' again.
Samil was patiently waiting with the bowl, I struggled to my elbows and made it to a seated position. I smiled to myself, proud with the small achievement. I felt a sheen of sweat dampen my forehead and I puffed a little; out of the corner of my eye Demaren watched me cautiously. Maybe he was still worried about me. Putting on my best smile, I took the spoon Sam guided toward my mouth.
"I got it," I said. He returned the smile and placed the bowl in my lap.
The avery had gone over to sit by the mast. I took a sip of broth, surprised by how delicious it tasted.
"Does he have a name?" I asked, still eyeing the avery. Lia was now running circles around him in an attempt to evade Larii.
"Ponce," Demaren told me.
"'Ave you seen one before?" Sam asked.
"Once," I replied, looking at Demaren to see if he had told the Erynese the story. But Demaren was brushing some non-existent dust from his off white slacks. "It's where we met Larii."
At the sound of her name, Larii whipped around and bounded toward me, an exuberant smile on her face. She skidded to a stop and fell to her knees, actually knocking into Sam in her effort to hug me. Demaren caught the spoon as it flew out of my hand. A parade of images battered my mind, making me wince.
"Good to see you, too," I told her, a little breathlessly.
She leaned back, ignoring Demaren's glare. You wouldn't believe how worried we were.
"I told you not to come," I chided, but a smile spread across my lips.
Demaren snorted at the comment. A red head popped over Larii's shoulder. I smiled at Lia, her face completely taken over by large, sparkling eyes and curls.
"Hello," I said. "You're Lia?"
She became suddenly shy, and partially hid behind Larii's green arm.
"I'm Ashling," I continued as if she had responded.
"Ashling eda Dema p'saunta na fielli?" she babbled.
Like this, Larii said in my head. I looked at the green girl questioningly, wondering what she was talking about. Suddenly images were in my head, though not from Larii.
I blinked at Lia, tentatively sending out my own images. The same images presented themselves.
Ashling is Dema's wife?
I laughed with a start, shaking my head at her. I smiled at Demaren, who was looking between us with a frown.
"She calls you Dema."
Lia launched away from Larii and threw herself at Demaren, who caught her easily. He smiled at the little girl in his arms as she reached up to touch his face. A slight pang went through me as I longed to do the same thing.
"Yeah, she does," the ghost of a smile lingered on his lips as he turned back and handed me the spoon.
I took it and looked back down at the bowl in my lap. It was almost done, and I was more than full. Stalling so Demaren wouldn't chide me for not finishing, I glanced at Samil. He was trying to covertly stare at Larii who was making faces at Lia.
"Lia!" I heard a woman call from the stairwell.
The child shrieked and kicked out of Demaren's arms to wriggled between his back and the side of the deck.
A beautiful woman came up the steps, looking around. She caught sight of the little group huddled around me and smiled.
"Jeron, come here," she called down the stairs before coming over.
She was wearing white and blue striped skirts, bringing out the flame of her hair.
"I'm Jain," she said, kneeling beside me and surprising me with a hug.
My arms closed around her automatically. She felt warm and substantial, like how a mother should feel.
"I'm Ashling," I told her, when she pulled away, though she left one hand on mine.
"It's so nice to finally meet you," she said sincerely.
"Or at least to see you in person," said a gravely voice.
I looked up to see a scruffy, sturdy man behind Jain with his arms across his chest.
"Hello, Jeron," I said, looking at him from beneath my eyelashes. His eyes were piercing, though not unkind.
"Nice to see you know how to be awake," he said.
"It's nice to be awake," I said, stifling a yawn. My back had begun to ache where I sat and my eyelids felt heavy though I kept them wide open.
Jeron's eyes flashed a moment, taking in every detail of me. "Are you still tired?"
I thought about lying, but somehow knew he would call me on it. I nodded, hesitantly.
"Then you should sleep," he stated. He looked at the group around me, "Get below deck or into the sea. Either way, be quiet and let the girl rest."
Everyone moved. Lia made to evade her mother, but Jain was fast. She caught the girl around the middle and hoisted her into her arms. Samil took the bowl from me with a smile and lead Larii away down the stairs. Demaren went to leave, too, but I caught hold of his hand.
"Will you stay?" I asked, looking at him.
He hesitated and my heart beat a funny rhythm. The avery--Ponce--who had not left, made swishing sound through his circled mouth.
"You stay up here, boy," said Jeron, though it didn't sound like a suggestion.
I let go of Demaren's hand. "He doesn't have to," I said.
My hands began arranging the blanket on top of me so I wouldn't have to look at him.
Jeron looked down at me and smiled. "He takes up too much room," he said, glancing at Demaren then back to me, "and could use a distraction, girlie."
Walking away, Jeron gave Demaren a hefty push on the shoulder so he would sit down. When he was gone I looked at Demaren again, fiddling with the blanket between my fingers.
"You don't have to stay."
"It's fine," he said, looking to the side toward Ponce. I wondered if they were talking. He turned back to me. "Go to sleep."
I fidgeted with the blanket some more, biting my lower lip. A chuckle passed Demaren's lips and he reached out to pluck the material from my hands. He gently pressed a hand to my shoulder and I, feeling more tired by the moment, couldn't resist. He pulled the blanket up around my chin and as he moved back I snatched hold of his wrist.
"I didn't get to finish telling you," I said, biting the inside of my cheek to stay awake.
"Telling me what?" he asked quietly. I thought he could tell that I was tired, his voice was soothing as if he spoke to a resistant child.
"What else I remember," I said, dissecting his face for the tiniest expression.
"Oh," he blinked at me, seeming genuinely surprised. "Well you can tell me when you wake up..."
I shook my head obstinately. Sleepiness, or lack there of, was making me brave.
Demaren sighed and leaned back, but still holding my hand. "Okay, what do you remember?"
"W-well," I hesitated, looking away. "I remember at night, before the City, I couldn't sleep," I snuck a glance at him. He was looking at me incredulously. "I found that I can't really sleep with out you..."
A small noise came from Demaren's throat, but he covered it with a cough and resumed a passive expression. "Hmm."
I was losing courage fast, maybe this hadn't been the best idea, but I plowed on anyway.
"And, well, I don't really remember anything from being in the white room, but I think remember when you saved me. I remember feeling so happy. I remember I just wanted to--but I was so tired. And then a lot after that is dreams, or I think it might be dreams. But I kept having the same sort of dream over and over, and I wanted it to be real. I wanted it to be real more than anything else. I would have gladly stayed there in trade for it..."
I realized I was blabbering, as I usually did when I got nervous, and tapered off. Taking a deep breath I look at Demaren. His face was scrunched up in confusion.
"I don't think I understand a word you just said."
A strangled laugh escaped me, and something clogged my throat while tears stung the backs of my eyes. I had come this far, hadn't I?
"The simple truth, Demaren, is that I missed you," I said, feeling a single tear roll down my cheek. Demaren now wore a concerned expression. "I missed you so much that it hurt. The only thing I wanted was to see you, to touch you. It was your arms I wanted to feel around me when they k-killed Jamis--" I choked a little at the thought of the slave boy. I hadn't even gotten the chance to mourn him. I took a steadying breath. "You don't have to say anything if you don't feel the same. And I could see why you wouldn't. But I would rather only kiss you in my dreams than kiss anyone else in real life."
I stopped and took a shuddering breath, blinking my eyes to clear them. I hadn't meant to start crying, though somewhere along the way I had. I bit the inside of my cheek. Steeling myself for the let down, I made my eyes rise to meet Demaren. He had the same expression as a fish on ice.
Immediately fearing the worst, I started to backpedal.
"I-I'm sorry! Just forget I--!"
My voice was cut off by Demaren's large hand pressing over my mouth. His hand was shaking over my lips and I gulped back the doom I felt rising in my stomach, sure that I had made him angry.
He spoke in a whisper, and I had to reach up and take his hand away from my mouth so I could sit up on my elbows to hear.
"...I was so lost without you. Nights were the worst. I didn't have you in my arms," his voice got a little stronger, though his eyes glistened with unshed tears. "I needed you every moment!"
His hand pulled from mine and reached up to grab his hair.
"Thinking you could have been dead was too much to handle. I..." his head dropped to his chest and his arms to his knees.
I could see several glistening tears fall between his legs. My heart twisted to see him in such distress. I reached out a hand tentatively as his head snapped up so that his eyes could bore into mine with the intensity of gold lightning. He snatched my hand to his face, pressing it close, his eyes never leaving mine. I brushed away the last tear left on his cheek with my thumb.
"Losing you was like having my soul taken away. I lived and breathed and moved. I even laughed. But everything felt empty and fleeting. I couldn't connect to the moment I was in. I thought of you always." The muscle in his perfect jaw tightened. "I am nothing without you." He hesitated. "You say you would rather kiss me in your dreams... than not at all?"
I nodded. For once I was at a loss for words. It felt like I would break the spell that made Demaren say all these words if I were to speak. The hand that pressed my fingers to his face traced down my arm, a wicked smile spreading across his face.
"Ouch!" I complained. Demaren had pinched me.
I looked back at him reproachfully, catching the softest expression come over his features. Then a smirk tightened the muscles in his lips and smoothed out his face.
"I want there to be no doubt in your mind that you are awake," he said, leaning toward me.
My eyes widened as Demaren grasped my shoulders, the hand that had been touching his face fell easily to the back of his neck, and leaned onto his knees to pull me to him. He pressed me to his chest for a moment and I could hear his heart beat. I wondered if mine was going as fast. Then he leaned back a little and tilted my chin to reach his lips to mine. My eyes fell closed. He tasted of sweet, clear water.
Somehow my other arm found it's way up so I could touch Demaren's face, the hand at the back of his neck reaching higher to grip his hair. One of his hands encompassed the back of my head, the other pressing me to him at the small of my back. His lips moved and parted mine.
Dizzily, I gasped for air. My fingers convulsed weakly in his hair. I felt Demaren smile under my lips. His hold on me loosened, though firm. Which was fortunate because I sagged and swayed a little both from the kiss and from tiredness. This was the first real movement I had attempted in weeks, and I would have gladly repeated it all for the same event, but it left me feeling exhausted and thrilled at the same time.
Demaren eased me back onto the pallet, bracing one arm to the side of my head so he could stroke my face and brush his thumb over my lips. I wanted to touch his face, too, but couldn't seem to find my arms. My eyelids seemed to be drawn together like magnets and I was not capable of fighting them anymore.
"Goodnight," he whispered as my eyes fully closed, only to snap open as I realized he had risen.
I clutched at his pant leg. "I told you," I frowned disapprovingly up at him, "I can't sleep without you."
Demaren chuckled and stretched out his wings before coming back down and laying out next to me.
"Wouldn't matter if you could, I refuse to sleep without you," he said, his voice a grumble in his chest.
He rested an arm over me, and I turned to snuggle in close. I felt Demaren lightly kiss the top of my head then press his face into my hair. His other wing came over us both and we slept.

------

The next few weeks past in a pleasant blur. Lia would sit with me, playing hand games in her native language. Larii did tricks to make the child laugh, pretending to fall and tumbling to a stop. Samil and Larii seemed to always be in orbit around each other, though Larii hardly noticed it. Ponce watched and tolerated all of Lia's prodding and bumping with dignity. I started to become fond of him, though I couldn't hear him talk the way Demaren could. When they had their silent conversations, I got a taste of what traveling with Larii and me in the forest.
When I wasn't too tired, I went below deck to visit Friend. He didn't seem to mind the lower deck. He had a window to stick his head out and breathe the sea air. I patted his neck, leaning my forehead against his.
"I missed you," I told him. He whickered softly.
Jain and Jeron were more than accommodating. By the time I was up and walking around, Jain had a new wardrobe made up for me. Several skirts of different colors and linen tunics over light camisoles were made to fit me perfectly. She made me try them on several times and parade them around.
"You see? Burgundy is her color," she declared, practically shoving me under Demaren's nose. (Not that it was hard, I only came up to his chest.)
He craned his neck down at me as Jain had thrown me against his frame. He smiled wickedly.
"I like the cut of her... shirt."
My mouth fell open before hastily back stepping to cross my arms over my chest.
"Ruffian!" I accused, my cheeks flaming. I could hear Jeron crowing with laughter from the crow's nest.
"Ruffian?" he said, an eye brow raising. He leaned in to bring an arm around my shoulders. "Do you want me to... 'ruff' you up?"
Two fingers slipped under the strap of the camisole as though he might pull it down. I smacked his hand away.
"Jain? Where is the extra fabric? I wish to make myself look like a tent."
Ha! You look cute no matter what you wear! teased Larii.
I turned on her, hands on my hips. "Hush, you!"
Demaren laughed. I glared daggers at Ponce, knowing he had told Demaren what I said. He sat innocently staring off into the sky. I threw up my hands in defeat.
The weather steadily became colder. Soon I could see my breath even in the noon day's sun. We were headed toward Grayman.
I heard Demaren and Jeron talking one night before we had set a course. I had come up the stairs from the warmer, lower deck after helping to put Lia to bed. I halted on the first landing, listening to Jeron's urgent voice.
"...too far inland for me to help you, boy."
"I can fly us there, it's fine."
"I ain't keeping your crazy animals on my boat!"
"What do you want me to do!?"
"Why are you going to Grayman at all?"
"I told you, I need to find out what happened to my mother! Stars above, Jeron!"
"You shouldn't go at all, boy. It won't end well for you. There's something real bad there for you. Go back to your people. Take Ashling, and go back. Live there."
"Jeron... I have to find my mother. What if she's there and alive?"
"Oh, come on now, boy, you don't believe she's alive! You want to go get some revenge for her and your dad!"
"Oh, so what! What if I am! Don't they deserve it? My dad is probably dead, too!"
"How many times do you need me to say this, boy? If you go there, you won't come back!"
There was silence, and Demaren's response was quiet and angry.
"You been looking at my shadow again?"
"You've got such a big one, it's hard to miss!"
"Hell, Jeron, I'm going! You could at least help me!"
"You should leave Larii here, then. There's something in her shadow that doesn't sit well."
"I'll talk to her."
There was another bout of quiet.
"Don't go boy. Please. Don't put everyone through this. I swear to you, it's a mistake. Think of Ashling..."
"I am! I always do. But how can I live without knowing? I would follow her where she went, and now she's willing to come with me... I would leave her in safety with you, but I'm afraid to put her from my sight again."
"If you go, you'll put her through more than you suffered this past month. So much more."
A loud crack sounded, followed by a dull thud and a slew of cursing. I covered my mouth Demaren must have punched Jeron.
"Don't say that! I don't ever EVER want to hear that!"
Footsteps echoed just above me toward the stairs. I back down the hastily, being as quiet as I could.
"Wait, Demaren." I heard Jeron sigh. "I can maneuver the dingy to a safe shore."
"You're so willing now?"
"I ain't gonna let you stick me with your critters and an angry green woman!"
Demaren laughed.
Straightening up, I made some noise coming up the steps and all fell quiet. I smiled at the men as I cleared the steps.
"Lia's asleep," I said.
Demaren rubbed a hand through his hair. I walked over, pretending to be surprised by a red mark on Jeron's cheek.
"What happened?" I asked, reaching up to turn his chin to the side so I could look at it better. Jeron lightly swatted my hands away.
"Dont' worry yourself with me, girlie," he said, patting my head as he walked away. I caught the loaded glance he flicked at Demaren before heading down stairs.
I turned to Demaren, my eyebrow's raised, hands clasped behind my back. "Everything alright?"
"Of course," he assured me, leaning down to kiss me on the cheek. His lips were cold. "Jeron and I just disagreed on a couple of points. Nothing to worry about, though."
I smiled as though I believed him, and took hold of his hand.
"Come on. Jain's making hot cider. It's too cold up here, even for you!"
He smiled in return and I tugged him to the stairs. Larii, Demaren, Jain, and Samil sat around the table. Jeron, it seemed, had gone to bed. We sat and drank cider, Jain, Samil, and Demaren telling stories. Ponce walked through on his way to visit with Friend, whom he called 'Kero,' Demaren had said.
Sipping my cider, I watched Demaren from under my eyelashes. He seemed in good humor, not at all like he just had a fight. I twiddled with the scarf around my neck. Even down below deck, it was chilly.
Demaren caught my eye in the middle of Samil's anecdote and winked at me. I smiled back. I knew that I would follow him to the ends of the earth. Jeron was not often wrong, but I didn't have much choice in the matter. I wouldn't be left behind and Demaren wouldn't be swayed from his task. If something went wrong, we would figure out a way to fix it. Changing fate couldn't be that hard.
Reaching for the cider, Larii passed the pitcher around to fill our glasses again. Samil raised his and made us all clink glasses in what he called a 'toast.'
"It's for celebrating," he clarified when I looked at him quizzically.
I shrugged and happily tipped my cup back.

Executing

Whatever Demaren had expected to see when he had come over the wall--whatever sights he'd thought the city would have--where completely off base. He'd expected building like in Velt. Perhaps more carefully crafted, but similar to the earthen houses and structures. But, no, not this city. The City of the Eye was alive and shining, even at night. The buildings were not made of earth. They were tall as the trees of Tovsyla, and as glittering and reflective as the sea. Demaren was thrown for a moment, and even paused in his flight. The avery swarmed the dark roofs, moving along the lower structures. But Demaren was still struck by the looming, slender buildings of mirror and light. They towered! He craned his neck, but some seemed to expand upwards forever. His stomach tickled and even his hulking wings felt small.
"Even your mind is speechless. What do you see?" Ponce spoke quietly in Demaren's mind.
"Did you know the city was like this? I have never seen anything like it!"
"Yes, we were aware of the nature of this place. The people here think almost entirely the same. To even contemplate the city was to stare into a massive portrait that screamed monosyllabic words."
"That's kind of creepy."
Demaren soared lower.
"A wise choice. There are flying contraptions with guns in the air. They would have killed you."
Demaren was relieved at his decision. They could make things that flew? That was disconcerting. Demaren didn't want to think and converse, though, so he tugged up a barrier around his mind. He was getting better at it, and this barrier felt more like a brick severance as opposed to a flimsy gauzy one.
Ponce always understood when Demaren fell silent, just as Demaren always understood. There was no need to explain.
The entourage moved in silence. Demaren could not hear the movements below him, and could not see them either. But he sensed them. Their minds pressed against his like a crowd. He focused on avoiding the leering buildings and their invasive lights. They made excellent time. The large structures fell behind them soon, and they traversed smaller dwellings full of families sleeping soundly. Lights were dead here, save only a smattering, which glowed with the light for the few and the lonely.
A dull pressure in his head bade him to come to the conscious front.
"It is ahead, Demaren."
Ponce felt further ahead. He must have run faster and made it closer by this point. The building, though, was clearly visible. On either side of the box-like building, stood two towers like he had seen in the city. Only, these were not as tall. Of course, this was merely in comparison. These were still looming.
The avery stopped along the roofs of domestic homes.
"Shall we wait here until your word?"
"Yes." Demaren felt somewhat unnerved by the prospect of surveying the building for an appropriate entrance. But he swerved ahead, floating on the air currents to keep his wings silent.
The building was wide awake. Not a window was dim. Demaren felt that it must have always been lit so profusely. The lights felt so old and tired. Not at all fresh and bright like a newly lit candle. He sailed in a looping figure, gazing intently at the front. Then he swooped a few laps around the building. He couldn't see a way in. They were all lit. People everywhere, surely. He flew back to Ponce and spoke into his mind alone.
"Ponce, I need your help for this."
"I see. Shall I accompany you back?"
"Please."
They made their way around the building, Demaren hovering above Ponce.
"The lit rooms are not all occupied. There are some corridors unguarded, with windows we could easily access."
"That's good."
"The others are coming now."
Through the night, the other avery crept into view. The hazy light that sifted the air made it possible to see Ponce's tribe. They were ready, and they followed Ponce. Demaren followed him as well, as Ponce slowly picked a choice window. When he had decided on it, five avery slipped up the walls and surrounded it. Delicate claws from females somehow pried the glass free. Demaren was astonished and mystified. The avery were proving more resourceful and advanced than expected.
Once the window was loose, three more avery climbed up and disappeared into the darkness with the glass. No one moved. For a moment, Demaren wondered what was happening until in the distance a shattering told him the avery had gone off to dispose of the glass--and pose a marvelous distraction, if he could venture that guess from the crack-pop sounds that followed. They sounded like the things that had shot through his wing when they took Ashling. But there was no time to ponder, for the instant the glass was destroyed, the avery began to flood inside. Demaren swooped in and landed carefully. Ponce was beside him quickly, breathing the air deeply.
"We should find an Erynese soldier to direct us."
"Are there any nearby?"
"There's a small group coming this way, actually." Ponce sounded cheerful at this, and Demaren rolled his eyes.
Sure enough, around the corner ran six soldiers. They were flabbergasted at the sight of Demaren's army, and did not even scream when they were pinned down. Ponce stared for a moment at them, before five of the soldiers were made into meals. The last soldier, realizing his fate began to cry. Demaren was a little disgusted at the tears and blubbering.
"Truly, in this society there are very few men. Most males remain in an immature state their entire lives. And their soldiers are often soft--at least, in the cities." Ponce's disdain was obvious.
Demaren shook his head, "What does he know?"
"Ask him. I merely know that he has useful knowledge, but his thoughts are as confusing as an infants so I cannot discern it."
"Right..." Demaren stepped beside the imprisoned soldier. A good look told Demaren the tearful man, was actually a young man. Probably just 18. Demaren felt some pity for the soldier. "Hey. Stop crying."
The wailing quieted for a moment, and he spoke through a stuffed nose, "Are you going to kill me like tem?"
"Not if you help us." Demaren noticed the odd accent, very unique and strange.
"W-wat do you w-w-want from me?"
"Answers. Don't try to run, or they'll kill you for sure." He added mentally, to the avery, "Let him up."
The female gripping the boy slid off daintily. Her shoulders and hips swung smoothly, but her head remained turned towards the slight man, who scrambled to his feet and tried to make himself small.
"Where can I find the girl?"
"Wat girl?"
Demaren wasn't in the mood for any sort of runaround, so he pulled the knives from the latch on his shin and strode to the soldier, lacing the sharp edges close to the underdeveloped neck. His eyes narrowed in blatant annoyance.
"'onestly! I-I don't know w'ere any g-girl is. I'm just p-p-patrol!" His voice cracked. Demaren arched an eyebrow at Ponce.
"He knows something helpful, Demaren. Ask for something else."
Demaren pulled the knives away and stepped back, "Who would know?"
"Um..."
Demaren flipped one knife impatiently. The boy rubbed his knuckles and swayed on his feet.
"You know something, kid. So give us something!" Demaren was surprised at himself. He was usually nicer, even to people he didn't like. He felt very different here. He didn't like it at all.
"I-I know tere's an important project on the ei'teent floor! And Minister Entark is in t-targe."
"Which floor is this?"
The soldier was breathing more steadily now, and feeling more confident he may not die. "Sixt'."
Demaren slid his knives back into their sheaves with such a snap, that the soldier flinched violently. Demaren stood silently for a moment, mentally cursing (Ponce didn't enjoy the barrage) and trying to contemplate the fastest way up.
"You could--!" The soldier started but hesitated. Ponce walked to the boy and loomed over him, breathing in the scent of fear and sweat.
"We could?" Demaren joined Ponce.
Ponce seemed excited, "This will be good."
"You could take te elevator..."
"The what?" Demaren knew what it meant to elevate, but had never heard it used to describe what could be an object. Perhaps a form of transportation? Is it an animal, like a hop?
"Te e-elevator. It--It goes up and down faster tan stairs."
Demaren narrowed his eyes and stepped a little closer, "Explain?"
"It's a small room! Wit doors and it goes up and down! I don't really know muc about it, I just know ow to use it!" The soldier was getting panicked and obviously wishing he hadn't mentioned it. He pointed down the hallway from which he had come, probably in hopes of earning opportunities to live.
"Oh! You can work it? Good!" Demaren turned back to Ponce. "Why don't we take two more with us to the elevator and send everyone else to clear the way? Some can scale the outside and meet us on top."
"Why do we not just climb the walls outside to reach the desired floor? It would be faster."
"Because I kind of want to see an elevator."
"You are a strange creature."
"Indulge me." Demaren strode forward and gave the soldier a reasonable shove to indicate he was leading the way with Demaren close at hand.
Ponce followed with a female, Jema, and another male, Leo, as Demaren pushed the young soldier down the hall. The soldier stopped them in front of two metal doors and pushed a little round button, which lit up.
The door opened quickly, startling Demaren. And even more startling to him was the sudden shout from the far corner of the hallway. Before he could turn his head, tiny projectiles attacked the party.
Demaren snarled and dove into the elevator, followed swiftly by the avery. The doors began to close on their own. Demaren noticed the soldier had not followed them and remained in the hallway with his arms over his head, crouching low. So, Demaren reached out, caught him by the scruff of his shirt, and pulled him into the small room. The doors slid closed, silencing the beat of footsteps as they hustled towards them. Obviously, not every soldier was as easily quelled as this shivering one.
Glancing around the room, Demaren saw it was very tiny. Ponce and the other two avery only fit because Jema was so small. The solider was pressed in front of Demaren and Demaren could feel the young man's heart beating faster than was probably healthy.
"Well? Make it go."
The soldier pressed a button--one of many--that Demaren couldn't read. It lit up as the one outside had done. There was a strange shift in the room, and an almost silent humming. But it seemed as though nothing was happening. Demaren was about to threaten the life out of their escort when the room jolted to a halt, and the lights flickered.
"O no. Wy now? Tis is terrible!" The solider seemed frantic and repeatedly pressed a button with arrows pointing outward. Frustrated snuffs echoed in the little room.
"What happened, kid?"
"Tey stopped te elevator!"
"They can--they can do that?" Demaren was uncomfortable with that and slightly intimidated.
"Of course tey can! And now tey will old us ere until tey can get ere and kill us!" He began to cry again, frowning hatefully at the doors. He kicked hem swiftly with his boot. "If tis door would open, we could get away."
"Oh." Demaren looked at the metal panes. It seemed easy enough. Demaren shoved the soldier over, "Move."
"Wat are you--"
Demaren was able to press the tips of his fingers between the doors, and pull at them with extreme force. As they slid open a tiny fraction, he slipped his fingers in fully to the joint and exerted all of his effort into prying the doors apart. His muscles strained and screamed at him, but he pushed himself to continue until the way was open. For a moment, he looked at the dark wall they opened to. Ponce quickly caught his attention.
There's another set of doors level with your head, Demaren. Probably another level.
Merely nodding his response, Demaren could feel his arms beginning to shake. He stepped away from the doors and released them, expecting them to snap shut. But they glided together with a soft shuffle. Surprisingly slow, too. He had an idea.
"Why didn't they slam shut?" Demaren turned to the soldier.
"Safety precautions? I do not know."
"Are they all like that?"
The soldier nodded.
"Those doors we saw on the other side..."
"Te lower 'alf of tat floor. Tere are two sets of doors for te elevators."
Demaren was looking upward. Could he break through the ceiling? Doubtful. He reached up easily and gave it a swift pound with his fist. It echoed, but held firm. He frowned and lowered his arm just as the soldier gasped.
"O! Te escape 'at!"
Demaren arched an eyebrow at him, "Escape hat?"
The young man frowned, "No. 'At!" He frowned harder, "Atk. Atch!" He scrunched his face up tightly, "A door."
"Oh..." Demaren pondered this for a moment before getting it. "Oh! A hatch." He looked up again, but did not see anything that looked like a door or a hatch or even a small vent.
"Lift me up!" insisted the soldier.
Demaren grabbed the soldier by the back of his shirt and brought him up. For a moment, his smaller fists smacked the ceiling in vain. But, he swiftly found what he wanted and began pressing on a random spot. Nothing happened, and the soldier looked tired, so Demaren lowered him.
"Wait, no! It's tere!"
"I believe you." Demaren gave the young man and pat on the head. Then he reached up to where the smaller man had been pushing, and spread his hands across the surface. "Here, right?" Then he started to push. His arms were still aching from the doors, but he felt the give behind his force. So he dropped his arms.
He looked quickly around, then said, "Stand back, I need some room."
The avery compacted surprisingly well and the soldier folded into a corner. So Demaren leaned back, resting his hands behind him against the handrail. He braced for just a moment before swinging his legs up and pushing with his arms so that his legs flew full force into the designated spot above him.
And with a crash and a tumble, a square gave way into a dark space.
Demaren smiled, then he turned to the soldier. "Time to go up, kid." And he grabbed the soldier by the uniform again, pressing him up and out like a buoy. The small figure scrambled out of sight and was heard noisily above them. Then the avery slipped out. Last, and a little winded, Demaren reached up and through, bracing himself on the outside of the room. He swiftly pulled himself out and sat on the top.
He was impressed. The soldier stood near him, looking conflicted and tired. Demaren sighed when he noted that the doors to the nearest level were tightly closed. And again he managed to creep his fingers between the doors and pry them open. Then he stepped between the doors, pressed his back to one and his foot high against the other. A moment of breathing brought his mind down to a calmer level. He looked at the team.
"Get onto that floor."
"Wat about you?" Said the soldier, rubbing his palm against his arm nervously.
Demaren glowered at him, "You said all these doors close slowly. Now, get out there. I'll follow behind you."
The team moved quickly--even their unwilling guide moved efficiently. Once again last, Demaren dropped after them and the doors closed quietly and slowly.
"Perfect."
Ponce sounded less pleased, "I would like to never go in there again, if at all possible."
"Agreed." Demaren muttered aloud, causing the soldier to wince in some confusion. "Where are we, kid?"
"Elevent' floor," he replied, gesturing back at the doors. There were two parallel lines painted cleanly on them. "Te stairs are over tere." He pointed around the corner.
"Demaren, some of the others seem to have made it to our floor."
"All right then." Demaren straightened up cheerfully, rolling his tired muscles. He gave the soldier a prod and the group headed off. The doors to the stairwell came up on them quickly, and waiting patiently beside them was a group of three avery. They were all splashed in varying amounts of blood. The smell tinged the air with iron and humidity.
"Tis is as far as I can t-take you..." The soldier leaned against the wall, shaking slightly. "I do not know were tey keep te project or anyting like tat."
Demaren stood over the soldier, curving his wings around their unwilling guide. "You can guess."
"Please! I will be killed if I elp you any more! I do not want to die!"
Demaren stepped back, surprised. Then he narrowed his eyes and gestured to himself, silently pointing out the more immediate threat--himself.
The soldier's mouth fell open slightly and he shrank down the wall in defeat. Demaren felt guilt and pity for the soldier, feeling a slight hope that he may be able to find a way to spare the man's life when this was over. "Let's go. We have seven floors to go."
The stairs were impossible for Demaren to fly up, as they were awkwardly placed, so he had to walk beside the trudging soldier. The avery scampered up and down the way, looking for enemies to take care of. They were fortunate, though, that no one found them there. They gathered two more avery around the fifteenth floor. When they reached the eighteenth, Demaren was tired of walking and his arms were tightening up.
Once in the hallway, the soldier began to walk even slower and Demaren was losing patience. And they were losing time. So, he snatched the front of the soldier's uniform and dragged him off. Whimpering all the way, the prisoner's boots dragged and clipped down the hallway.
"Wat te ell is making all tat noise?" Came a voice around the perpetual turn of this circular level. A moment later, a pale, too-thin man appeared. His face went from annoyed to shocked and alarmed very quickly. The soldier quivered in Demaren's grasp, and whispered, "Entark..."
"Entark?" Demaren felt a rush of success. This was the man who could lead him to Ashling. Then suddenly, hate. The face of this became very clear in his mind as he recognized him. This was the man who had kidnapped Ashling in the first place! He was in Velt! Demaren was so angry, he threw the soldier backwards towards the Avery and stepped forward towards Entark.
"X'il et ip'ria! Hi'u ern ut'sta okma're'sta!" It took a moment for Demaren to realize he was cursing in Syla, something he rarely did anymore. Annoyed at himself and everything, he tugged free some of the thin needles. Ponce quickly stormed his mind.
"Calm yourself! If you kill him, you will not find your mate!"
Demaren felt too much to respond. Too angry to think, too terrified to care. He flipped the needle knives, ready to throw them.
"Demaren! STOP!" Ponce not only shouted and violently knocked Demaren with his long neck. Demaren did not fall, but he stumbled. And Entark, turned on one foot and ran. Demaren wanted to scream in fury that his enemy was escaping. But Jema anticipated him and shot like a bullet after Entark.
Demaren felt his fury deflate very quickly. He felt very tired, and Ponce let him lean against his shoulder. The doors must have taken more out of him than he thought...
"Foolish boy." Came Ponce's gentle chiding.
"I know... Thank you..."
"She has him. Let us move in their direction." Ponce glanced back at the soldier, who was cowering under the unnerving stare of Leo. "Bring the soldier. He is useful."
So, with Ponce beside him, and the soldier in tow with Leo, they met up with Jema who had Entark pinned painfully against a wall. With her claws in one shoulder. She rolled her head quickly at them, mentally smirking.
Her little voice danced through Demaren's head, "Look what I found."
"Lovely." Ponce responded with less emotion than a rock.
"Okay, Entark." Demaren put a lot of emphasis on the T sound and sneered in his face. "Where's Ashling?"
Entark laughed somewhat maniacally, and haltingly, spasming in pain. "Se is not ere."
"Like hell she isn't." Demaren dipped under the arm of Jema to stand in front of Entark.
Again, Entark laughed, like a creepy school girl, "Is true!" He smacked his lips, "Er body is ere. But I tink se is gone."
Demaren twitched. Probably. He wasn't really sure. But he was very sure that he ripped Entark from the spot Jema had him pinned to to slam him against the ground with all the force he could. He even relished the ripping and breaking of fragile bones--after all, Jema hadn't let go yet. He pressed his palm into Entark's esophagus, curling his fingers around the slim neck. Ready and willing. "You saying she's dead?"
Entark was still smiling, even as his throat gurgled and pulsed for air. He coughed words out in such a way, Demaren wanted to rip Entark's face apart. "No. We wanted er alive. It took quite a wile to obtain er." He gave an especially bubbly choke, then whispered, "Se calls for you."
It was like an explosion. Like the dream of being a star was happening again. He was a star and he was fragmenting into a hundred million tiny shards of death and life. He wanted to direct it all into Entark and watch him dissolve--And he felt he could. But, instead, Demaren smashed his fist into Entark's face before he slammed his head against the floor again. And again. And again. Wrath and fear exploded from him in the form of a burning yell, heightening with each smash of Entark's skull. His hands shook, tiny blood vessels pressing and churning beneath his skin, trying to escape. The muscles on his back seemed to writhe electrically, and he wasn't sure if his wings had burnt themselves up or simply vanished, for he no longer felt them. He closed his eyes in his fury, and instantly felt nothing. Oh, the emotions remained, but the physical part of existence seemed to fade away. He was an endlessly looping destruction.
"Stop." Came Ponce's voice, again, full of reason and reality. Demaren opened his eyes and looked down at Entark. He had stopped smashing him, so he was still alive. Still conscious even. Still smiling. Demaren let go of Entark, stood, and walked to stand behind Ponce.
"You would like to see er?" Came a bloodied, shaking, yet controlled voice from Entark.
Demaren turned to glare at him, "Don't you ever die?"
Entark laughed with burbles and flecks of blood. Demaren pressed his bloodied hands to his face, not caring if he smelled the iron of Entark's blood for the rest of his life. He smiled even, looking forward to the moment of his death.
At that moment, there was the building sound of running boots coming from behind them. The entourage turned quickly to meet the sound of twenty soldiers racing to meet them. They were in view within moments, orders shouting from the mouth of a dangerous looking man.
"They don't look like the other soldiers..." Demaren said, aloud, directing it to Ponce.
The kid answered him, "I tink tey are te special unit. Tey are very mean..." He shivered.
The unit aimed their guns, but did not fire at them.
"Leo, Jema, and Ponce, you come with me. Can you five handle them?"
Their response was merely to suddenly fly at the special soldiers, they had killed one a piece before the first shot was fired. And they were efficient, forcing the soldiers back and out of sight. The sounds of fighting continued though.
"More soldiers are coming to help them, Demaren. We need to move. More of my tribe is coming to aid Era and the others."
Demaren nodded, assuming Era was one of the five avery. Then he whirled on his feet, strengthened and calmed with fresh resolve, and stood over Entark, one leg on each side.
"You know where Ashling is? Let's go then." Then Demaren tugged the Minister up by the bad shoulder and gave him a shake. "Which way, ip'ria x'il? Or has the blood clogged your throat."
Entark choked with pleasure, "Not yet." He rolled his head at Demaren and smiled, blood dribbling from the corner of his mouth. "Tis way, winged boy." He flinched his good arm back towards the way he came.
Demaren heartlessly and forcefully half ran and half dragged Entark down the hallway at jogging speed. He didn't care that Entark staggered, nor that the blood flowed like water, and even gave little squirts onto his face.
And still, Entark talked, "We became close, Asling as I."
He coughed and gurgle as often as he spoke, and Demaren couldn't decide whether he wanted to finish ripping him in half or shove what was left of his arm down his throat to shut him up.
"Like friends. But..." He sighed like recalling a fond memory, "We need er energy. So we took it."
"That's it? This is about her energy explosions?" Demaren whipped his head at Entark.
"It is ow we power te city. Se could ave given it... willing." He sputtered, smiling even still. "But, se did not know ow. So we teac er." He glanced at Demaren through the sides of his eyes, almost flirtatiously, and then he grinned, "You know ow?"
"No. I specialize in turning it off."
"This man is insane, Demaren. His mind is as destroyed as his body." Ponce whispered in Demaren's mind.
Demaren did not respond, for he could not remember how.
"Se must be..." Entark lulled his head as he hesitated, before rolling it back to Demaren, "Moved."
"What are you trying to say, you bloody fountain?"
"Emotional." Entark staggered forward for a moment, and Demaren let him fall to his knees. His arms draped to the floor limply, and his head hung for a moment, but he arched it back up to look at Demaren's face, "Se must be beyond fear. Beyond anger."
Demaren leaned down, letting his wing prod Entark between the shoulder blades. "How much further do we have to go?"
Entark raised his eyebrows, "Yes, come come, I sow you. Words are useless."
"If only you truly believed that." Demaren pulled Entark up by the back of the collar on his uniform and dragged him onward.
Demaren ignored whatever else Entark may have said, if he indeed said anything. But Entark directed them into a doorway which slid open at their presence.
There were five men inside the room, three men in white coats and two in special unit soldier uniforms. The soldiers raised their guns at the sight as an instant reaction, but lowered them slightly and hesitantly when Demaren brandished a knife at Entark's neck.
"As bad as it looks, this could get a lot worse for him." Demaren said as they all came into the room. He looked at the soldiers and then at the white coated men. "Ponce?"
"The soldiers are useless and dangerous. The scientists... we only need one of them."
"Kill them."
Later, Demaren would look back and feel the worst for the two Jema killed. He had never seen the female's hunt before, and seeing the claws rip open the chest cavities would have made him sick, if he hadn't already been disturbed to the point of numbness. As it was, the poor soldier was ill and sat silently shaking and sobbing in the corner long after it had ended, muttering about "never wissing to see another body treated like tat again".
The death of his companions made the scientist instantly complying and helpful.
"Wat do you want?" He leaned against the table of lights and buttons with a desperate sort of tension.
"Ashling." Demaren was growing weary of explaining. He threw Entark at the feet of Ponce, who rested a single slender hand on the pale and twitching man, still smiling.
The scientist pointed to a glass wall that Demaren had somehow failed to see. He turned slightly to look and felt every emotion he had felt in the past weeks evaporate.
There was Ashling. There she was. But she wasn't. She was a shell of Ashling. She was, as Entark had put it, a body. Her skin was pale and grayed. Her hair looked limp and tired. She didn't move. She didn't make a single reaction if she had seen him. He didn't think she could even see, despite her eyes being open and weeping. She was strapped to a chair. A strange tube came from her arm and disappeared into the ceiling, along with shining cylinders and pipes and other tubes. Thins chords, like rope, snaked upward in tangles. All vanishing into fitted holes. And the entire room pulsated with a light that seemed to start from Ashling.
"Energy..." He whispered.
"Demaren. Guarding Stars, Demaren, what have they done to her!" Ponce's calm nature seemed to stumble at the sight, even.
Demaren stared and stared. He wanted to forget he had ever seen her this way, but to look away would not save her.
"Let me in there." He said quietly.
"You can't go in!" The scientist began, "It will kill you! It will kill us all!"
Demaren did not let his gaze waver from his dearest desire, but merely raised the knife in his hand to point it at the scientist. "Is that for sure?"
"Uh..." The man shook and quivered, "Te room is meant to contain. You go in tere... We all die, maybe se dies."
Finally, Demaren tore his eyes away. He focused the pale white gold iris' on the scientist. "Let. Me. In there."
"Not just us! Te ole city!"
Demaren ground his teeth, gritting them fiercely together. He backed the man against the table, pressing the blade sharply to the pale throat. "You think I give a damn about you or your city?! Let me in there!"
"Okay! Okay!" He threw his hands up, a silent plea, and after realizing Demaren was not about to cut off his head, he pointed to a door, "Tru opposite door. And I enter te code and let you in."
Demaren let his arm fall away and sheathed the blade, walking to the door. Ponce had been distracted by the horrors of Ashling's situation, and Leo and Jema were in the hallway on careful watch, so the guard over the Minister had fallen to... no one. And Entark was staggering to his feet and hobbling with great effort, and much blood dribbling, to the large window.
Demaren paused at the doorway and looked at Entark with irritation, "How have you not bled to death?"
Entark was on the other side of the table from Demaren, staring with dark fondness at Ashling, and ignoring what Demaren said, "Se is so beautiful. I would ave ad er for a daugter."
Demaren clenched his hand around the rim of the doorway. "You'd make a lousy father. And your time here has passed." Then he stepped through as the door closed.
He was in the same room as Ashling now. The energy she emitted surged over him like a warm wave of water. He felt it tingle on his skin and flicker through his body, but it did not give him pain nor hinder his progress to her.
When he reached her, he untied her feet and hands as quickly as he could. When he removed the halo band from her head, her eyes flicked up to look at him. There was no glimmer of recognition or flutter of eyelids. No sharp breath of surprise. Merely a glance. And Demaren realized she was speaking. So quietly. Barely noticeable, really, for her mouth barely moved and the sound was just the breath between her lips. But it was there.
"Demaren."
Whispered with each breath. Demaren could have sat for hours and listened. His name had never sounded so wonderful before. Still, she had to be freed.
"R-remove te t-t-tube." The scientists voice echoed in the room. He sounded shaken up, but Demaren supposed that to be expected from the days events. So he pressed his hand over the spot where the tube entered her skin, and using his other hand, pulled the slender slip of material from her arm. Her skin was soft and damp, and burning with heat. Strange, how pale it was, yet how heated it felt. The muscles were firm from the almost corrosive temperature, but Demaren did not notice it once he pulled the tube out.
For as soon as it was removed, Ashling gasped and her back arched, throwing her head backwards. Her entire body began to shake and vibrate. The energy releases ceased, but her body started to glow--brighter and brighter. Demaren stood still, unsure what to do, until Ponce sounded urgently in his head.
"Demaren! You must stop her. She is going to kill us!"
So, Demaren did the only thing that came to mind--probably the one thing he had planned on doing when he saw her again for weeks--he gathered her off the chair and into his arms, pulled her shoulders in tightly and kissed her firmly on the mouth.
The glowing intensified for a moment before dimming in ever darker pulses. The vibrating, too, faded. For a moment, she was still in his arms and unresponsive to his kiss.
Then a tiny chirp flitted between her lips, sounding like the birth of an angel to Demaren. A chirp, and then movement. Just the smallest of movements, but when you're kissing someone you only ask that they kiss you back anyway, so it was all that mattered. He broke the kiss first, partially because he wanted to look at her again, and partially because he wasn't sure she could have ended it herself.
So he looked down at her, her eyes open and seeing him. The hazel eyes he had looked into so many mornings, and missed at every moment. There they were, sparkling with life. Her skin, though still ashen, looked less gray and sickly. More and more her every moment.
"Demaren." She whispered again, though he could hear a tinge of her voice in the sound this time. Her hand had been leaning against his arm and now it tried to give his bicep a little squeeze. He wanted to hold her forever, and wasn't at all surprised when a tear or two stole from his eyes to her cheeks.
Ashling stared, her eyes starting to fluctuate, trying to stay awake, and she looked like she wanted to speak. But sheer exhaustion won and she suddenly fell unconscious.
Demaren waited, quivering in expectation. Would she explode again? But minutes floated by and she was still and limp. So he rushed to the doors and back into the scientist room.
He noticed that Jema had dragged something into the corner and, hunching over and blocking it from view, seemed to be eating it. Entark. Demaren shuddered.
"Is she all right?" Ponce questioned.
"I'm not sure..."
The soldier, having calmed down slightly, had slipped from his corner to eye Ashling. He spoke up quickly and suddenly, catching the entire room off guard, "Se'll need IV's for a few days until se can eat again."
Demaren swiveled to look at the soldier, who quelled under Demaren's gaze. "Say that again?"
"Um... S-se'll need nourisment tru tose little tubes. Se will not be able to eat on er own for a day or two..." He seemed to revert to his meek state again.
"What do we need to help her then?"
The soldier perked up, smiling slightly, "You will need a medical kit! Tey are on every floor!"
"Ponce, I trust you won't kill him if he tries to run away. Would you go with him to get one?" Demaren looked at Ponce, who had been surveying the young soldier in silence.
"Certainly." He stood to lean over the soldier, signaling him to walk. So the two disappeared into the corridor, returning a few minutes later with the soldier sitting astride Ponce.
"Ponce?!" Demaren was shocked at the sight.
"He is very slow." Ponce suddenly unseated the soldier, who had been looking particularly fearful on the avery's back.
Demaren looked at the soldier, "Open it."
The soldier fumbled the latches and popped open the lid. Inside was a jumble of bags, tubes, needles, and paper packets, all sealed in fitted clear material. He didn't understand at all, so he looked to the soldier.
"What does this do?"
"A lot of tings. Some is for wounds and some is for te sick like er."
"Can you use it?"
The soldier puffed up his chest in pride, smiling smugly, "I was trained for medicine. Not tis run around and soot people ting." He paused and then continued, "Actually, a lot of the patrols here were not trained to be soldiers..."
Demaren smiled at the soldier, then shifted Ashling in his arms. "Then you can come with us." Demaren walked past the boy to stand near Ponce.
"Wat?" The soldier turned quickly, in blatant horror. "You want me to come wit you? Wy?!"
"As you said, you were trained for medicine. And they'll kill you for helping us get this far." Demaren shrugged nonchalantly. Then he spoke to Ponce quietly, "How can we get out of here the fastest?"
"I am an idiot..." mumbled the soldier, dropping his face into his hands.
Ponce snickered at the forlorn soldier before focusing on Demaren, "We will have to go up or down another two levels, I think. The tribe members outside say there are no windows on this floor. Possibly even the floors above and below."
Demaren cursed. He whirled on the soldier again, "Nearest floor with a window!"
The soldier jolted, "Um--I tink it is on te fifteent floor."
"I am not taking that ridiculous elevator again." Ponce sniffed.
"Agreed." Demaren said aloud.
"Wy do you talk to yourself?" The soldier asked, probably feeling his life was soon to end anyway.
"I'm talking to this guy." Demaren cocked his head at Ponce, and headed for the door. "Let's get back to the stairs."
Jema and Leo followed quickly behind Demaren, while Ponce waited for the soldier to stand and gather the medical kit. They ran to catch up to Demaren's fast pace.
Going down the stairwell was much faster than going up. Demaren leaped from platform to platform, down eight platforms until he kicked one of the doors open. He was getting irritated with this place and the people and their funny accents and stupid technology. The three avery kept up with Demaren well enough, but the soldier was nowhere to be seen.
"Where the hell is the kid?" Demaren shouted. Leo shot back up the stairs, returning a moment later with the soldier on his back like a sack of potatoes.
"He was practically falling down the stairs." Leo sneered, laughing at the somewhat pathetic prisoner. Demaren had to agree, the soldier looked a little bruised from some tumbles, and it was something he felt like laughing at, only the soldier looked so terrified and tired.
"Can you carry him, Leo? We can't keep waiting for him."
"Fine by me, he doesn't weigh much."
Demaren stepped through the doorway and peered up and down the hall. It was very quiet, which seemed out of place. So he sent a question to the avery in the building, "What's the situation?"
The response was the same from almost everyone, "Dead." Only a few responded with some living captives. Demaren directed them to be deposited on the 18th floor and then to hurry over the wall to the meeting place. The avery on the wall confirmed the way was clear.
So Demaren and Ponce found the nearest window. Demaren shielded Ashling from flying glass as Ponce and Jema broke it apart--the need for secrecy was past. Demaren climbed onto the sill, about to take off, when something occurred to him and he turned to the soldier, "You will want to hold on as tight as you can. These guys climb walls."
There was a moment of satisfaction when he saw the stricken fear on the soldier's face, before Demaren pushed into the dark.
He soared in the cold night air, clutching Ashling close and protected. He frowned when he realized she was lighter than she had once been. Another reason to not regret anything that happened tonight.
He flew high above the city, making the flight over the city wall effortless. The descent was swift and chilling and Demaren lightly landed onto soft, dewy grass with ease. There were some avery already there, and he could see others racing through the darkness. The wall was probably a good 10 miles or so away.
An hour of waiting was not on his agenda, but the group waited for everyone to return. There was a heavy mindset as Demaren heard that some of the avery had been killed by a gun. He supposed that was why nearly everyone in the building had been killed.
When Ponce, Jema, and Leo made it back, the soldierv looked shell shocked as he tumbled to the grass. He lay in complete stillness for a few minutes before sitting up quickly, "By te great eye! Tat was te most trilling experience I ave ever ad!!" He was smiling, giddy, and shaking violently.
Demaren laughed. The sound of his laughter stirred Ashling, waking her slightly. In the pitch darkness she was not accustomed to seeing in, she whimpered in the deep shadow. Demaren pressed his forehead to her temple and quietly hushed her.
"It's all right, I've got you." He cooed.
A small voice came from her dry throat, "I can't see anything."
Demaren laughed very calmly, "It's night. You're outside. There isn't even a moon tonight."
She tried to move, which did not work well at all. The failed attempt seemed to tire her and she relaxed into his arms again. A stifled sigh sounded, before she turned and pressed her lips to his shoulder. Demaren silently wished he was not wearing Jain's black ensemble. A slow in her breathing told him she had fallen asleep again.
"We should move on to return to Kero and Larii." Said Ponce from Demaren's side.
Demaren agreed, giving Ashling a little squeeze.
Once again, they were on the move. Demaren flew on ahead, knowing he was supposed to be watching for Friend and Larii. But he couldn't help but look at the sleeping Ashling. He missed her, even now. He wanted her awake so he could talk to her and look at her and hear her speak. Ponce attempted to be understanding when Demaren had to backtrack to rejoin the group, having passed over Friend and Larii in his distraction. They were further away and in a larger growth of trees than Demaren remembered leaving them, and it was clear why when he arrived.
Larii was still sick with a fever and her eyes held no firm tracking, drifting and fluttering in a sightless way. Friend had froth in the corners of his mouth, and blood smeared across his lips. A hint of the severe wound in his leg. Demaren inhaled sharply at the sight, and narrowed his eyes.
"What happened?"
"Kero tells me they were attacked by a patrol. It was not predicted that patrols would be so far from the city, but they came all the same. Larii was completely overwhelmed by the presence of technology and went into shock. And Kero, in the process of fleeing with her, was shot."
"Oh, Friend..."
Friend nickered weakly and fell back to breathing heavily. Demaren was not entirely sure where he could set Ashling so he could attend to Friend, but Ponce resolved that by reclining near a tree. His mind was uncharacteristically quiet and inaccessible. Demaren smiled appreciatively and set Ashling into the smooth crook of Ponce's shoulder. He smoothed her hair once and hurried to help Friend.
Surprisingly, the soldier had brought it upon himself to begin treating Friend. He had already begun picking out tools. A silver bottle of fragrant liquid was misted onto a small shining pair of tongs as well as a thin knife and an odd needle.
"What is that stuff?"
The soldier started, but did not drop anything. "Tis is medicine so your animal does not die from infection. And tese are te tools tat will remove te bullet and stict te wound."
Demaren blinked, feeling confused by some of the words, but nodded anyway. The soldier nodded slightly and turned to Friend's injury. But the moment the soldier rested a hand near the wound, Friend jolted and made to rise up. Demaren had to dive down and keep his hands on Friend's face to calm him. Friend had to have his head turned away, but Demaren watched the work.
The soldier sprayed the disinfectant onto the open wound (Friend shuddered and whined) and ripped open a packet of clear material which had encased a thin clear tube. Some quick finger work revealed a very thin needle that seemed to be attached to the end of the tube. Before Demaren could ask about the needle, the soldier stuck the needle quickly into the flesh near the wound. He pressed down on the top of the tube for a moment, and the tube shrank slightly. He repeated this motion three more times until the tube had shrunk by half. And Friend, who had been so jumpy, was calm and drowsy. The soldier glanced up, giving a double take to Demaren's shocked face.
"Tis is a numbing serum. It as taken away te pain. For now."
Demaren merely nodded. He watched as the small pair of tongs was used to removed a small metal object. The thin knife was used to trim some nasty colored flesh, and the odd needle was threaded with thick string and used to close the wound. Demaren was impressed.
"What's your name, kid?"
"Samil."
"You're amazing, Samil."
The soldier remained focused, but smiled, "Tank you."
"Where did you learn to do that?"
Samil smiled with pleasure and puffed up, "I was trained wen I turned twelve to be a doctor." His face darkened, though, "But te military did not need my services, so I was given a gun and sent to patrol." He sighed, "I am not a soldier. I do not like to kill--I like to elp."
Demaren bit the inside of his mouth, "I'm glad we ran into you, then."
Samil nodded, glumly, then he silently rose and attended to Larii. Demaren let Friend's head settle to the grass, but remained kneeling there to absentmindedly stroke his mane.
There was a distinct feeling of regret and guilt in what he had done tonight. He did not regret saving Ashling, not in any sense of the concept, and would have done anything to have achieved it. But he did feel there were some unnecessary deaths that he could have so easily avoided. And forcing Samil to accompany them as an unwilling doctor seemed unfair too. But whose to say that if he hadn't brought him, that Demaren might have just had him killed as he had the soldiers and other scientists in that room? He stopped combing the soft mane and cracked his jaw loudly.
"Do not be so harsh, Demaren."
"I was not aware that I was thinking aloud, Ponce."
"You were not. I read your face."
Demaren grimaced slightly, then sneered at himself. "I'm not a very good man, am I?"
"No one is distinctly good by anyones definition. In matters of mating, or in yours words, matters of love, there is a natural tendency to do violent things. When I was young, I broke the neck of our tribe leader to ensure that I had no opposition in my efforts to mate with Essa."
"Your mate?"
"Yes. My only mate. She died three years ago."
"Your only mate? Do avery have more than one?"
"There is a natural tendency to mate with multiple partners. Males, as with every species, have a natural urge to spread their seed as far as possible, which is logical for the survival of our race, and we are a species heavily founded on logic, so it follows. And our females, unlike you bipeds, have multiple uteri and therefore, do not feel a need to obtain one mate."
"Then why did you--"
"I held Essa in the highest respect. I did not care for the idea of sharing her mentally or physically. It was unfortunate that Opar--the previous tribe leader--attempted to mate with her. I had killed him before I had even given a moment of logical thought to the situation. Essa was not angry. She forgave me on the spot, merely feeling pity for the dead leader. And as tradition followed, I became tribe leader. Essa had chosen not to mate prior to myself, and never intended on mating again afterwards."
"Ponce, that sounded like a romance."
"Did it? I suppose it was, when you look on it with your eyes. Yes, I expect I did love her. And she me." There was silence between the two for a moment but Ponce ended that with a short realization. "That realization makes the loss of her more painful to me."
"I'm sorry, Ponce, I didn't mean to cause you pain."
"You are not the source of my pain, nor did you aggravate it. But we have digressed. What I intended to teach you was that the tribe did not hold against me the death of our leader. It was understood. What you did was, perhaps, even more innocent than my actions. Your mate was in danger. Mine was merely being... propositioned--which she would have rejected, had I paused one moment to consult."
Demaren did not respond to that. He sighed and gave Friend a final pat, then he rose quickly and turned to look at Ashling. He was surprised to see Ponce giving her hair a soft nuzzle.
"Ponce, you surprise me more and more each day."
Ponce straightened up quickly, piercing Demaren with his blue eyes. "She sighed. I was merely ensuring she was not... dead."
Demaren nodded and smiled.
Ponce closed his eyes and turned away from Demaren. "Do not begin to think I have developed a fondness for this girl. I have yet to even speak with her. Were I a being of emotional attachment, perhaps I would feel an affinity for your situation--but I am not. If I were such a being, there would be a natural desire to protect your mate due to a subconscious association with my own--but I am not. So, please, do not direct your mind down such paths."
Demaren turned away and stretched his wings, "I suppose you're right. If you were an emotional being, you would have most certainly acted rashly in the defense of your own past mate." Demaren gave a strong flap of his wings and launched into the air.
Ponce curled his neck to watch Demaren soar into the rays of the sunrise. His gaze settled on nothing, then rested on Ashling.
When Demaren landed about an hour later, the sun having mostly turned the sky a dazzling blue, Ponce was asleep with his head on Ashling's lap. Larii lay asleep beneath a tree, carefully covered with Samil's coat. Samil himself was nowhere to be seen. Demaren looked around quickly, wondering if he'd abandoned them. He felt a surge of anger, especially when he recalled that Ashling had not been treated. But Samil came back into sight within a short time, soaking.
"Where have you been?"
Samil paused, reddened a little, and rubbed his knuckles. "I found a river and was wasing te tools. Ten I fell in."
Demaren smiled at the clumsy Eryn boy. He shook his head, and yawned. Then he started to peel off the black suit Jain had made him. Once down to the waist, he was surprised to find Samil staring at him. "What?"
Samil jumped, "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to stare. Te Eryn are not so tall as you, and very few of us are as obviously strong." He dropped his head onto his shoulder, "I am, especially, not eiter ting."
Demaren laughed. "That doesn't matter. I can't heal a scrape without leaving a scar, let alone bring a thrashing hop to a calm state--and remove a... a..." He searched for the unfamiliar word.
"Bullet?"
"Yeah."
Samil seemed consoled, and glanced at Larii. "Se as not awoken as se?"
Demaren shook his head and yawned again. Samil seemed to sway on his feet. So Demaren gave Samil a small shove towards the nearest tree, "Get some sleep."
"But I was going to elp te energy girl."
"You aren't touching her without a good amount of sleep behind you, Sam."
"I--Sam? Well--"
"Sleep on your own, or I knock you out."
Samil hurried to the tree and tossed the kit down. He dropped to the grass, rolled onto one side and was still. Demaren laughed quietly, stopping mid-chuckle to yawn again. It was getting ridiculous. He glanced at Ashling, longing to curl up beside her. But he didn't want to interrupt the attachment Ponce was clearly forming for her. So he grudgingly slid into the tree they rested beneath, and slept.

---

Demaren woke late. The sun was past midday, yet it was not the sun through the leaves or the rustling of the trees--it was the soft whimpering of someone in terror. But he was very in tune with the source of the cries, so he was not only awake instantly, but also down from the tree and ready to kill whatever was scaring her.
He did not kill it though. Samil was, after all, only trying to help her. She just didn't realize he was an ally as opposed to an enemy--which he had been the night before. In fact, Demaren nearly laughed when he saw her sadly ineffective attempts at escape, which included wiggling limp noodle arms, failed efforts to roll over, and the ever-effective cringing.
"Please do not be scared!" Samil was looking very frustrated. "I wis you would not make so muc noise. You will wake up te flying man!" He was trying to shout as quietly as possible.
"I am also known as Demaren. Only my closest friends call me flying man."
Samil, proving to have a skittish nature, was startled and dropped what appeared to be a wet towel.
Ashling, though, stopped squirming and looked up at Demaren, her eyes pleading desperately. Demaren smiled, while a sense of rightness crept over him. He knelt beside her, propping her up to lean against him (Ponce appeared to have wandered off). "Don't worry, Ash. He's a good guy. He's going to save you." Demaren smoothed her hair and leaned down to kiss her forehead.
She turned her face into his chest, "You were gone. I was scared."
"Understandable. But Sam's a good kid."
Sam knitted his brow together. "I wis you would not call me a kid. I am not a kid. I am twenty-tree."
Demaren was shocked, but said nothing. Ashling, though, was looking tired again. She blinked heavily, and blinked as hard as she could, forcing her eyes to fly open. Demaren looked at Samil, who was looking concerned.
"Ashling..." Demaren started to say, as she wriggled slightly to stay awake. "If you're tired, then sleep."
She shook her head weakly, but her eyes closed. She pried them open, but they didn't go up more than halfway before dropping again. Drifting off she muttered, "I want to stay with you..."
He smiled, "You aren't going anywhere. Besides, I'm always the one who sticks around wherever you go. So sleep, and I'll stay here."
She gave a little puff of a laugh, and was asleep.
Immediately, Samil reached into his kit to prepare some more strange medical devices. Demaren was tired of trying to understand, so he merely allowed the young doctor to attach a thin tube to her arm in an undamaged spot. The tube led to a clear bag of fluid.
"We just wait for er to become more stable."
"Stable? She isn't stable? I mean, other than the tiredness?"
Samil shook his head, "Er body keeps dropping in temperature."
Demaren looked shocked, and suddenly realized she was like a tiny icicle in his arms, "But she was like fire when I got to her."
"I tink it as to do wit er energy. Se gets ot wen it is flowing. Probably witout it, se gets very cold. Especially after suc weeks of it on all te time."
A certain stiffness came over Demaren when he heard that. "I thought you didn't even know she was there."
Samil shook his head, "I didn't. But in te control room tere was a tart tat sowed information about er daily energy levels. It extended for two weeks."
Demaren winced, "Two weeks? Of sitting in that chair in that dead state?" He didn't feel so bad about killing those scientists. They let it happen and didn't try to help her.
"I didn't realize tings like tat were appening."
"Would you have saved her?" Demaren didn't think Samil had that kind of spunk to him.
Samil looked downcast, "No. I am not so eroic as you. But I would not ave stayed to serve suc men as Entark."
"It's past. It doesn't matter. If you save her now, you'll have done more than I can ever hope to do."
"Tat is te ting, Demaren. I am not certain wat I can do. Se gets so cold and does not stay awake long. I can give er IV's, but se will need to have substantial food as soon as se can. But te colder se gets, te less se will be awake."
Demaren cursed. It was looking to be a futile venture. One he wouldn't be able to give up on until he or Ashling had given their last breath. And the latter was unacceptable.
The best they could do, it was decided, was to try to keep her warm. She was carefully wrapped in as many articles of clothing possible and kept in the sunlight. Friend, already feeling better, though not walking, was perfectly willing to sit with her. But by the time the sun began to set, she was plenty warm. And Samil began to worry even more.
"I do not understand tis. Now se burns up with fever!" Samil threw a melted cold pack (what Samil called it, at least) at a tree with frustration. "I do not know wat to do!"
Demaren clutched at his hair in desperation. He sat beside her as she slept in ill ease. Red skinned and sweating, she breathed heavily and fluttered her eyelids, yet not waking. He couldn't bear it. She was dying and no one could stop it!
He stood quickly, "I need too cool off, myself."
Samil nodded, muttering ideas to himself as he rifled through the medicine kit and glanced continuously at Ashling.
Demaren rushed in the direction Samil had come the day before. He found the river easily, but stopped a couple dozen feet from it when he caught sight of Ponce sitting on a rock at the edge.
"Ponce?"
Ponce tilted his head, but said nothing until Demaren was standing beside him. "I am sorry your mate is dying."
Demaren swallowed with difficulty and nodded.
Ponce sighed, "You and I are very similar. We are both in control of our emotions and our minds. But somehow, we have certain weaknesses in specific areas of our lives."
"Our mates, you mean."
"Yes." Ponce rolled his head slightly, looking up at the sky as it started to show its stars. "It is difficult for us, is it not? The ones we love are lost to us without a thought. Essa was taken from me far sooner than I should have liked. We only produced two offspring, only one of which survived adolescence. The other is grown and has mated herself." He focused his gaze to the water. "Your mate is not taken from you yet, and may not die so soon as mine did. But you suffer the fear of losing her, while I never felt such things."
"I don't understand what you're saying, Ponce."
"Essa died suddenly, Demaren. She somehow fell from a tree and was lost to me forever." He paused. "I am not sure what I intend to say to you. I fear for your happiness."
Demaren laughed bitterly and dropped his head into his hands, "I hadn't felt happiness until I met Ashling. I felt contentment and satisfaction, but never happiness. She is my joy. If she dies, I will probably follow soon after." Ponce shifted suddenly, but Demaren did not look at him, he merely raised his head to the sky. "I wouldn't kill myself, Ponce. But I feel... I feel there would be nothing left to tie me to this life. She keeps me here. She has brought me back from death and eternal dreams."
"And if she lives?"
Demaren felt tears spill down his face, unwanted, "I would never leave her again. I would never let her be alone."
"Then go be with her now. She is awakening." Ponce rose himself and slunk gracefully back to the camp.
Demaren rolled to his feet and ran back to Ashling.
She was, as Ponce said, stirring. But now she was pale, and Samil looked even more frustrated and confused as ever.
"Sam, what's--"
"Se is freezing again! Wy is tis appening?" Samil was trying to wrap her warmly again.
Ponce, who Demaren had hurried past, slipped into the camp. "It will keep happening, I think. She will be hot again soon."
Demaren turned, speaking aloud, "And then cold again? How long will it go on?"
"Either until she dies, or until it tapers out. It must do one or the other." Ponce was smelling the air around Friend.
So Demaren brushed Ashling's still damp hair, "One or the other..."
Her eyes fluttered open, and she peered at him. "What?"
Demaren sighed deeply, "Get better."
"I'm fine." She said between the chattering of her teeth.
"A little cold, right?"
"J-just a little."
He nodded in response, before adding, "Did you know you had an insane fever twenty minutes ago?" He felt deadly serious right now, so there was no hint of a smile.
"N-no?"
"Well you did." He turned suddenly to her and kissed her roughly, and then added, "Stop it."
She tried to push the various blankets and clothing articles off of her, but only managed to get one arm free. And the effort drained her of energy. Still, she managed to lightly drag her fingertips down his chest before her hand fell limply.
He kissed her again, more gently, and stood up. He turned slightly, "Don't fall asleep yet." And he disappeared from sight.
He reappeared a short number of minutes later, to find Ashling valiantly fighting off sleep. She was looking a little flush, already.
"I thought you didn't like kissing me?" She whispered from her warm cocoon.
He crouched beside her again, smirking, "Which only proves to me that you surely cannot read my mind." He held a bowl in his hand and tilted it towards her. "You know what this is?"
She winced, "I'm not hungry for mushy..."
"Too bad." He said, spooning some towards her.

---

For three days, Ashling's body temperature shot from blue-lipped freezing to flushed skin fever, every thirty minutes or so. Demaren, figuring she usually awake every few hours, was always ready with mushy food (which she was less than enthusiastic to enjoy). And for three days, they travelled slowly towards the ocean and Jeron's boat. And they found, with some unexpected pleasure, that the further away from the Eye they got, the more healthy Larii became. They reached the beach late the third day and camped in the sand, hoping to see Jeron's boat in the sunlight.
But on the fourth morning, Demaren woke extremely early when Samil shouted. At first, Demaren thought an Erynese patrol had found them, but instead, Samil was on the verge of tears. And smiling.
"Se is barely ot!"
Demaren blinked, not comprehending. "She's in transition again?"
Samil shook his head, "No! Se as been barely ot for two ours!"
"What!" Demaren dropped down beside Ashling in the little nest they settled her into every night. Still pink in the cheeks, she was distinctly cooler than her usual high, but still definitely with a fever. "Is she... is she getting better then?"
Samil shrugged, still trying to contain his glee and confusion. Larii appeared from behind Samil, suddenly, poking her head over his shoulder to peer at Ashling. Samil, who would usually have been startled and fallen over, stiffened.
Demaren cocked an eyebrow at him before Ponce whispered sleepily, "She has decided she likes our Erynese boy. And I suspect, from his physical reactions, that he would not be adverse to the idea."
Demaren laughed. He laughed so hard, he started to cry. He hugged Ashling, feeling she would be all right, and felt relieved. He curled close to her, breathed her the scent of her hair deeply, and fell into the first truly restful sleep he'd had in over a month.

Lack of Meaning

I was aware that my face was wet. I could not comprehend why. Wanting to brush the wetness away, I tried to lift my hand. Something prevented it. With great difficulty I tilted my head to look at my arm. It was tied to the white arm of a chair. There was a tube sticking out of it. I wondered it that should concern me, but couldn't find the ability to care.
Time did not pass in the same way it always had. I was aware of every second, every moment, but it didn't mean anything. There was no day or night in the florescent white room. I did not sleep or wake. Just me, my breathing, my heart beat, and raw, vibrating energy.
A tremor racked my spine, making my head snap up in it's haloed restraint. A thin, rat faced specter grinned at me on the other side of a barrier. It was wrong, but I couldn't say why.
Half aware that my lips were moving of their own accord, I tried to pay attention to what they were trying to say. There were no words, to my knowledge I didn't have a voice, and I had to pay attention to the formation of the single word.
I was mouthing it over and over.
Another set of vibrations radiated from me and this time I actually whispered.
"Demaren..."

Preparing

They did not travel through Velt. Jeron and Demaren handled the ship to a small bay near Ellipt. Once they had landed and spent a day or two reviewing the plan, Jeron expressed some mild concerns.
"Damn it all, boy, I ain't staying behind while you go get yourself blown up!"
"If you go, you'll get killed!"
"Shut your mouth, you don't have any kind of sense in those things!"
"If you die, you'll leave Jain and Lia all alone!"
It went on like that for half of an hour before Jain had sent Demaren to get fresh water, and Jeron below deck to peel potatoes. The two men didn't bring it up again, but Demaren suspected Jain had tearfully (and wrathfully, as well) begged him to stay with her and Lia.
In the end, Jeron submitted to remaining with his family. The night before they separated Larii told a story using tiny sand buildings and sea shell people she had spent the day making. Lia laughed the most, and Larii presented her with the little dolls at the end. Demaren was coerced into singing (though he wasn't sure how they had known he could sing at all). As they settled down into a somewhat depressing sleep, Lia curled into Demaren's arm and cried--he quietly sang her a Syla lullaby until she slept.
The first day away from Jeron and his family was rough. Demaren felt alone with no one to talk to, especially missing Ashling again. But they only traveled a day and one night before they made contact with the Avery's.
The evening the creatures appeared, Larii was staring intently into the trees while Demaren brushed Friend. Demaren was huffing slightly because Larii had usually taken to grooming Friend, and Demaren felt entirely poorly skilled at it. Friend did too, because after a few minutes of it, he shifted away from Demaren and rolled around in the dirt of the clearing.
"Fine." Demaren threw a smoothing cloth at Friend and trudged to Larii.
"Well? Are they coming?"
Larii nodded slowly. She looked at Demaren and pointed meekly into the darkness where the fire's light didn't filter.
"What."
She pointed a little more firmly. A rustling in the dark, crushing of tender dead leaves, and some delicate sniffing sounds reached him. He turned, trying to see. No lulling, swinging forms appeared, merely the reflection of the fire in two pinprick points. Which blinked.
"Ah." Demaren's heart pumped harder, anticipating coming face to face with his once intent murderers. He strained his ears to listen for movement. So focused on the silence, his pumping blood was almost deafening. Then he heard it.
"So this is the way you think."
He jolted, catching Larii's attention. She jerked a little in surprise and looked into the darkness questioningly. Then she looked back at him is wonder.
"Did you hear that?" Demaren asked, slightly panicked.
"She did not."
Demaren winced. Then he felt a laugh in his mind. Not his own mental voice, but a deeper, smoother voice. An elegant voice. He was actually reminded of his father.
"How flattering."
"W-what?"
Larii looked questioningly at him. But he didn't look at her now, he looked at the glimmering lights in the darkness.
"You do not have to speak to make yourself heard, Demaren."
"Uh... Who are you?" Demaren consciously asserted this mentally in the shadows.
"Very good. How promising. I am called Ponce. I am the head of my tribe."
"Ponce. All right. How did you know my name?"
"Larii told me."
"You can talk to her?"
"I would not go so far as to call it 'talking.' Her people do not think like yours do. Nor do they think as the Xian. They think in images and emotions. And while my people are not so emotive as hers, we can see rather finely and the communication is not limited."
"So you live in the forest too?"
"Did you not come here specifically to meet us?"
Demaren jolted violently.
"You're an Avery?!" He shouted, causing Larii to topple over and cover her ears. The smooth laugh, easily perceived as arrogant filled his head again.
"Yes."
Demaren felt sick. He pressed his mind to think coherently, "I didn't realize you were sentient."
"My tribe and I are probably more sentient than yours. And certainly more than Larii's."
"Larii is very sentient." Demaren felt some defense for his hued companion.
"Quite. That was not entirely an insult. It was a commentary on my people. Not hers. While hers are intelligent and capable, they are only able to communicate with animals and select bipeds, such as your mate and the small Xian child."
"My mate?"
"Yes. The Gaeian girl."
Demaren blushed anxiously. "She is not my mate."
"May I join you beside the fire? I believe Larii is growing concerned and Kero wants to settle the air."
"Kero? A companion of yours?"
"The opposite. He is a companion of yours. The Simein."
"The what?"
Rustling in the darkness brought Demaren from his mind slightly. An Avery swung slowly into view. Blue eyes glimmered intently at Demaren, and the delicate pointed toes dipped like dancers feet. As it passed, it turned it's head to look into Demaren's face.
"Your quadruped friend."
"You mean, Friend?"
The Avery's head rotated slightly, inclining to the right.
"You mean to say you call him 'Friend?'"
Demaren felt slightly embarrassed, "We couldn't exactly ask his name."
Ponce turned to look at Friend, who was watching from across the fire. "No, I suppose not." He looked back at Demaren, "His actual name is Kero. But he tells me he does not object to the name Ashling gave him."
"I'm glad you approved!" Demaren shouted to Friend, who shook his head and gave a shrill snuffle.
"Are you still afraid of me?"
Demaren turned back to Ponce, slightly confused. "Afraid? I'm not sure."
"What if I told you it was me who made that attempt on your life upon your last visit to our forest?"
A chill skipped over Demaren's skin. "You?"
The swinging neck dipped towards him, Ponces' head lulling gently in front of Demaren's. Demaren felt an intake of air as the Avery inhaled Demaren's scent. He saw the tiny circle of teeth and felt a little afraid. "How do I... Are you..." He paused from speaking and tried to think clearly, "Are you going to try to kill me again?"
"Understand this. I could not access your mind. Perhaps I was less interested in that endeavor than I should have been, but all the same. My tribe and I do not consume life with coherent, individualized thoughts. We try to reach the core of a mind first. And when I could not reach yours, which is very unique, I felt no qualms. Of course, Larii appeared and informed me of my error. So, I apologize."
"What about tonight? You found my mind tonight?"
"I have been following your entourage from the moment you entered the forest. Larii could not reach me and did not know I was near. For the entirety of your journey here, I could not access you. I was beginning to worry there was no way. Until you, essentially, began breathing down my neck."
"What do you mean?"
"When you began to listen. You strained for sound. It was silent, but I felt you. Like someone behind you, breathing heavily down your neck. I cannot hear you unless you think in words."
"Oh. That's interesting."
Ponce suddenly meandered to the fire and sat down. "As I said. Unique."
Demaren leaned against the nearest tree and rubbed his head.
"And, no, you will not be able to think quietly to yourself anymore."
"Gee, thanks." Demaren responded aloud.
Ponce rolled his head to peer expressionlessly at Demaren, and shrugged his bony shoulders, "You could attain that ability through heavy practice. We Avery also must work to conceal our thoughts from one another. It is not an easy task, but we are brought up with that skill. I suspect you can get to that point. You have a strong mind, and the others of my Tribe will respect you."
"Are there going to be more of you joining us? I asked Larii to see if she could accomplish that. I kind of need as many of you as I can get."
Larii smiled at the reference to her.
"Larii was beginning to feel ignored." Ponce said, rising delicately to slink over to Friend.
"Sorry, Larii."
She shrugged, smiling again, and tapped her temple. Then she skipped over to Friend and Ponce to pat Ponce's head and curl up beside Friend. Ponce walked back to Demaren, who had come to sit in front of the fire.
"She is tiring to communicate with."
"Why?"
"They communicate with sight and emotion. That takes far more energy than speech. And I am not as emotive as she, nor so easily attached to individuals."
"Meaning?"
"She is fond of you and Kero."
"Can you call him Friend? It's very confusing for me to remember his true name."
"Is it supposed to be less confusing for me to call him Friend when I am accustomed to Kero? Should we not refer to him as he is called?"
"I've known him longer."
"True." Ponce was silent for a moment, cocking his head to one side. "All right then. I shall refer to him as Friend when I remember."
"Thank you."
They fell silent again as Demaren was tired. He rubbed his head again, then ground his knuckles into his eyes. When they opened again, the rising suns rays were streaming above him him and he was laid to rest beside the dead fire. He must have fallen asleep. Disoriented, he sat up to gage his surroundings.
He was shocked to find his was not only in the company of Larii, Friend, and Ponce, but that sometime in the night hundreds of Avery had gathered to linger near the group. It was disconcerting to be surrounded on all sides by black and white blood suckers. They slept all on the floor of the forest and draped themselves in the branches of the trees. They did not come within the clearing where Demaren sat, but they were very near all the same. Only Ponce sat in the circle, awake and staring.
"When did they arrive?"
"All throughout the night. They arrived and went to sleep."
"When did I fall asleep?"
"When you decided to. I have no sensory clock, nor do I discern time by the location of the orbiting celestial bodies. I do not see in light or dark as you do. Merely clearly defined shape."
"I--What?"
Ponce rose and stepped to one side of Demaren, snaking his long neck to Demaren's other side and throwing him off kilter.
"You cannot see when the sun has set. When there is darkness."
"Right."
"I can see despite the lighting. I do not see light or dark. I only see." Ponce then turned to saunter away.
Demaren stared into the pink sky, "That's weird."
"I heard that."
Demaren rolled his eyes at Ponce's retreating figure, "Of course you did."

- - -

Once the encampment of Avery had awoken, the entire day felt compressed and choked.
"Ponce!"Demaren had shouted into the sea of Avery, at one point.
"Yes?"
"Where are you?"
"Above you."
Demaren looked up to see a low hanging branch and Ponce's slender limbs draped artfully along it. "I feel like everything I think can be heard for miles."
"It can."
"Help me figure out how to fix that, please!"
Ponce slid down to the ground, and rolled his head. "All right then. Follow me."
At first they walked to leave the group, but once a safe distance out, Ponce leapt into the nearest tree, "Follow from above, please. I will be easily viewed from the sky." And he climbed effortlessly up the almost branchless tree.
Demaren flew up, reminding himself of the games back on Syla. He even smiled slightly. Once in the sky, the sun not even at high noon yet, Demaren flew quickly along with Ponce. They travelled very far before Ponce rested on a particularly high tree.
"Here?"
"Yes. Come rest. We needed to be far enough away so your screaming words can not be heard."
Demaren flushed red a little as he carefully came stand gently on a branch, "I hadn't realized my words were like shouts."
"I can tell you intended that to be a personal thought, but imagine if you met someone new and they only spoke very loudly and never thought quietly to themselves. But all unintentionally. You simply must learn to curb yourself."
"I don't understand."
"You do not realize this, but now that you can made a connection with me, you are always listening for it. And therefore, always speaking into it. My mind, particularly, is constantly bombarded with your thoughts."
"That is incredibly embarrassing, Ponce."
"I'm sure it is. The tribe hears you as well, but only in the way that on lookers in a crowd view someone shouting at another individual."
"Great..."
"You simply have to learn to identify what my mind feels like. Once you can identify my mind, you will be able to identify the other Avery minds. As well as your own. You will suddenly realize when you are thinking 'aloud' and when it is completely internal."
Demaren cracked his jaw nervously, "How do I do that?"
"Listen. I will speak quietly so you cannot hear. My mind will then be active and therefore perceivable. Ready?"
Demaren nodded. Ponce sat still staring at Demaren. Demaren wondered if Ponce had begun. So he perked up his ears--or the part of his mind that seemed to 'hear' Ponce's thoughts. But nothing came to the forefront. He licked his lips and focused harder. For a moment, he thought he felt what he could describe as his head coming into contact with a very padded wall, but only gently.
"Ponce, did I just feel it?"
"Perhaps. Are you aware of your own thoughts?"
Demaren said nothing, and thought as quietly as he could, trying to sense himself. He felt nothing, though.
"No, you did not feel my mind--at least, not well enough to access your own. And yes, you are still very audible."
"I hate this. I feel like I'm walking around naked and screaming!"
"That is a peculiar image, Demaren." Ponce paused, cocking his head thoughtfully--Obviously thinking privately, much to Demaren's dismay. "Let us return to the tribe. You can practice with the other minds of the Avery. There will be many private and internal conversations to press for."
Demaren followed Ponce back, still trying to feel the Avery mind below him.
He tried, over the next few days, to avoid thinking verbally. It was difficult and frustrating. And he knew all of the Avery's could hear him. Still, he tried to feel the slight walls around their minds.
He was surprised at how quickly the Avery traveled. Over the unsteady ground in the forest, they were nimble and smooth. They slowed like a dark river and left no foot prints. It was staggering, as well, how quickly they moved. Demaren could not have kept up with them on foot, so he flew through the trees with some difficulty.
It was not until the massive group was a days walk from the edge of the forest that Demaren noticed a mental barrier around Ponce. He mentally reached out to it again, pushing against it. Ponce even shifted to look at Demaren.
"Very good. But do not try to break it. You will only hurt your own mind."
The sudden words in his mind made Demaren instantly aware of his thoughts. And he actually felt like he was standing naked in a room. The entire encampment had light barriers around their minds, and Demaren was very aware of his exposure. Like a breeze rushing along his body. He instantly pulled a defense up, like a thin gauze.
"Excellent, now I cannot hear you very well. I have to focus to understand."
"I was hoping for complete silence."
"Eventually, you will find the stronger, more durable blockade to keep us out. For now, you have merely pulled a a heavy curtain around you. It stifles noise, but does not silence it. You need walls and sealed doorways for that."
"More to work towards, then."
"Quite." After a moment, Ponce added, "How soon do we make our way to the City of the Eye?"
"Tonight. I think it will be easier to travel across the countryside at night."
"Will you be flying above us?"
"Yes. How fast can you travel?"
"My tribe and I will have little trouble reaching the mountains near the city before dawn's light, if we leave when the sun has completely gone."
"Excellent."
Ponce shifted over a lounging Avery, "What shall we do with Larii and Kero?"
"I'm not sure they should come with us." Demaren felt concerned for Ashling's special friends, "I don't think they can defend themselves as well as we can."
"It will not be a small feat to convince them to remain behind."
"We'll find a way." Demaren rubbed his head absentmindedly.
But it turned out they did not need to convince or coerce. Upon leaving the forest, Larii had developed a slight headache. The three days in open country had been fine, though tiring for her, but she became extremely ill and collapsed a few miles into the Erynese mountains--mountains that encircled the city. Once the entourage had made their way out of the geological formations, she fainted dead away. Friend was perfectly willing to retreat to the safety of a nearby tree cluster to protect Larii. In the trees, Larii seemed to recover her senses enough to regain consciousness. But she had a fever and shook her head in heartbreak.
Ponce lulled his head from side to side, "She says that even within this proximity of the city, she still cannot hear Ashling. There is a nasty mental scent that permeates her mind and makes her feel nauseous."
Demaren wondered what the city would be like. The Erynese had proved to be an entirely unique kind of people, unnatural and unpleasant in their existence. Would Ashling be found safely? He turned to Ponce and openly spoke to the Avery. "Let's go."
Demaren flew above them for the hours of silent travel until they crested a hill. Then he landed beside Ponce to survey the city. In the darkness, bright pinpricks of light scattered the horizon. Even so late an hour, life swarmed. Some of the lights seemed to hover above the ground--as if he was looking at his home forest in the darkness. A noise sounded and three sleek Avery slinked into view from the darkness. Scouts that had been sent on a few days ahead to survey the city and gather information of safe routes and swift lanes.
A small red eyed female spoke for the group, "A general... polling... of minds showed the military center is grouped within the city walls, but on the outskirts. No rural buildings have been built near the structure, and the only domestic dwellings are for families of important military officials. We should have no trouble getting to the structure if we run along the barrier, but guards patrol the walls and they will shoot us and alert the headquarters to our presence."
"Can we stay outside the city until we are right near the building?"
She slowly shook her long neck and blinked her expressionless eyes, "No, there are even more guards at that portion of the wall."
Ponce had pondered in silence and now interjected, "Perhaps we should enter here--this is the opposite side of the city, correct? Good. We can hurry along rooftops and alleyways in the darkness, avoiding the small patrols. We can rush the military building and enter as silently as possible. The less attention we attain, the swifter our rescue will proceed."
Demaren nodded, "That sounds good." He turned his thoughts to the female, "Can we make it across the city in one night?"
"We can do it tonight if we leave within the next hour."
So Demaren and Ponce gathered the Avery. Fifty were to remain outside the city walls and keep a safe distance on all sides, should someone try to slip Ashling out. Another fifty were to wait on a safe increment of wall to eliminate the guards nearest the building so escape could be swift. One hundred even filtered through the city to maintain discretion. And the remaining group, about one hundred Avery and Demaren, would infiltrate the base and find Ashling.
There were two rules: draw as little attention as possible, and only kill those who mean you harm.
The plan was set in motion only 25 minutes after the scouts returned, and as Demaren readied himself for a low flight, one of the most difficult flights he would ever make, he breathed in the deep, silent air. He listened for any more shifting padded feet, heard nothing, and pushed off.