 
# The Moirean Tapestry

# Book 2: The Whispering War

Tara K. Young

Published by Myriad Maia at Smashwords

Copyright 2011 Tara Kristen Young

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

* * *

## Introduction

At one time, I would not have been permitted to share this story with you. Gods know I have paid dearly for my transgressions in the past, but it is different now. I have regained my true grace and am no longer afraid.

So many people were involved; that tends to happen with the colliding of universes. So many of us thought we knew how it all worked. So many of us thought we knew our place, our purpose. Then, they came.

## Prologue

Despite the nothingness of space, the universe was filled with stars, nebulae, and colliding galaxies. Life came and went without a single thought; only chaotic reactions with no hope or despair. Nevertheless, this was not a simple way of being or a universe that lay in peaceful silence.

Those for whom it had all been created filled the vastness with their fury, their skill, and their power. They lived without rest or mercy. They did not die easily in this gladiatorial hell where a maiming lasted eternity. They fought. They had nothing else. They, who had been given the entire universe, were not fortunate enough to choose. For most of their existence, they knew there could be nothing else.

Then, the errant destruction caused damage that seemed so innocent. Unnoticed, it went unchecked. This place was for them. There was no need to worry about the results of their barrage. Under such neglect, it grew.

Their perpetual conflict continued as it always had. No event had ever ceased their violence. They clashed and fought until they were forced to take heed. From such an insignificant rupture, a particulate matter began to ooze. In a world of gasses and plasma, such a simple thing could not be catastrophic, except for this cloud's defining characteristic: thought.

Without heads or mouths, it spoke with a thousand voices. They could not comprehend this world into which a one-way current dragged them. Then emotions began to emerge from the thought. Unwillingly and yet excitedly, they flooded into this battleground. The warriors took pause only long enough to vanish.

The voices, in their confusion, had not seen the thought that had already existed. They had not noticed the previous tenants of the land they now occupied. In naiveté, they spread their beings outward to perceive the entirety of the universe.

Intoxicated with unfamiliar awe and wonder, they filled it and explored this place that contained structures of varying and foreign densities.

As their perception became complete, one voice spoke out among the many. It spoke of the animals of flesh, of corporeal being. They agreed these things were strange. The one voice continued. As much as they had explored, they did not understand these beings that existed with no thought. There must have been a reason for their arrival in this place. They were the only thought in a world without it. The unity of feeling began to separate and change. The one voice was no longer the only that spoke with its authority. As their cloud began to ebb and flow from the opening that had brought them to this strange place, more voices spoke out of unison. They tried with futility to pull back to their home. The one voice spoke to the wary comrades to comfort them. To accept their situation, they must continue to explore. They knew nothing of what it was to live in such a condensed way of being. These poor animals knew nothing of what it was to think, to dream, to know oneself.

Some still held back; most pushed forward. Experience is the drug of the mind. With trepidatious curiosity, they explored many worlds for those they would choose to be. Five races they chose and brought them together into once place with the power of their particles.

As the one voice approached an animal, the others objected in unison. The outcome was too uncertain and the one voice had led them. A second voice spoke out and all agreed. He would be the first.

The tiny animal with five digits on each limb sat vacantly as the voice approached. As all its matter was poured into the animal, the others pulled back in wary terror, unsure of what it was that they were witnessing. In a deceivingly unremarkable moment, the voice appeared gone but the Monkey was no longer vacant.

It no longer sat without any response except to physical stimulus. It began to run and jump through the tall grasses of savannah in which the animals had been placed. It bolted towards a solitary tree and used its hands to grip the jagged branches and pull itself up. It screeched and laughed.

The voices were again filled with wonder and now they too pushed down upon the animals they had collected. In mass groups, the docile beings came alive with exuberant joy. As the numbers grew, the cloud of thought began to disappear until all the animals screeched, roared, and growled. The Hawks and Dragons wasted no time in soaring through the skies. The Cats pounced on each other. The Wolves wrestled with snapping jaws. The Monkeys jumped and skipped around the rest laughing at this new experience.

However, it was not long before they learned of the permanence of what they had done. When the first Monkey tried to tell his friends of his joy, only his unintelligible screeches could be heard. His despair and frustration became so strong that all took note but none could understand. Then some tried to ask if he needed help only to find they too could not communicate. All the joy and life that had filled the savannah had been laid to waste by their new isolation. Their disenchantment with their new forms led many to wish to leave them only to find they could not. Their minds were no longer as one. Their beings were no longer malleable and free.

With little choice, they inhabited this place as if they were animals. Their thought now served only to give them a small advantage over the unthinking beasts. They were surprised at how little their thought affected. Their survival was difficult.

At first, this appeared a blessing. Surely, they would return to thought once their flesh had been destroyed. However, death gave no escape. Each demise showed how truly linked they now were to these animals as they would involuntarily be reborn in another body.

Through evolution, through millions of years they simply survived never able to escape. Their animals changed forms, not due to their attempts but to the sculptor of nature. Some of the Monkeys soon lost their tails and ceased swinging from trees, learning to run on two feet while they stole food from their friends. Others became even better at their brachiating as their tails became so long they hung down the long trunks of the trees in which they rested. The Cats lost their large fangs, some growing long manes and others becoming spotted. Many of the Wolves gained thick fur as more ventured into the cold, leaving their friends behind. Some of the Dragons became like serpents swimming through the skies while others learned to breathe fire. The Hawks grew smaller, gaining speed in the skies and sight over large distances.

Countless years later, there seeped a ray of hope on an ordinary day. One Monkey voiced his thoughts to another.

## Chapter 1

Ashyina murmured contentedly as she lounged on the hillside. She stroked her companion's long, black hair. It had been a warm, lazy day. Now in the late afternoon, they were simply enjoying the sunshine and listening to the breeze caress the grass. Her own light brown hair was blown about her as her fingers continued their gentle touch, moving to her lover's silver, still-furred, pointed ears. She felt hot in her thickly woven, dark cloak but she was feeling so lazy it seemed a silly thing to bother to change. In fact, the warmth was strangely comforting. She looked down at the long, pieced together garment of her companion. The ends of the thick grasses that tied the leather and furs in place blew gently in the breeze.

Looking out over the fields below and seeing the rocky hill in which they lived, she smiled as she saw a group of young men and women emerge from the western forest. She could tell they were some of the Children because their clothes were pieced together furs, leathers, leaves, and grasses similar to her companion's. They had been adventuring again at the nearby spring, she was sure. They were too far away to be heard, but she watched as they appeared to joke and tease each other on their way back to the caves.

As she and her companion remained in silent contentment, they heard soft, steady footfalls approach from the top of the hill. Ashyina turned to see a large grey Wolf. He panted heavily in the heat as if he had been running though he now took a languid pace.

"Hello, Lapidus," Ashyina called. "Why do you wear fur on such a warm day?"

In reply, he changed fluidly into the towering man they knew. Contrary to his Wolf form, his human form was bald but for a greying moustache and goatee. His silver eyes shone even from a distance. In this form, he wore a grey cloak similar to hers, just as simplistic and just as rugged. Sitting next to the pair, he pulled his knees up to rest his arms upon them.

"I've just come from the sea," he explained.

Ashyina could feel her lover tense at these words. Ashyina's facial muscles tightened as she replied, "And what have you learned this time?"

Lapidus acted as though he had nothing important to say as he shared his news, "The Monkeys have made some discoveries. At least, that is what they told Avorlig."

Ashyina was now as tense as her companion as she asked, "Did he have anything else to say?"

The expected uncomfortable silence came as Lapidus looked down at his hands, finding them far more interesting than they actually were, before replying, "He is still unwilling to bend on the issue. He feels it is too important for our wellbeing and that of the Children." He changed his voice to sound high, rough, and craggy as he mimicked, "The unity of our race is most important as we now have charges who would not survive on their own. To allow those who are incompetent to shape our decisions simply to protect that incompetence is unforgiveable..." He trailed off as if catching himself before he had said too much.

Ashyina probed him further, "Tell us everything, Lapidus. We are all well acquainted with Avorlig. It will not be a surprise."

Without the mocking imitation, Lapidus looked at Ashyina and said, "He is openly accusing you of having lost your thought."

Now, Ashyina's companion sat upright and she stared Lapidus down with her dark blue eyes as she raged, "All because of me. All because I cannot seem to grasp the skills the rest of our kind can."

Putting his hands up defensively, Lapidus tried to calm her, "Shinga, calm down. Avorlig is just an arrogant fool. He still doesn't hold as much weight with the council as Ashyina."

"But who knows how long that will last?" she shrilled.

Ashyina placed a calming hand upon Shinga's arm and let out a deep sigh. "We will continue to try to change his mind. It is all we can do. That, and..." now it was her turn to trail off, avoiding thoughts best left without the vehicle of words. Nevertheless, Shinga turned on her.

"I have been trying," she pleaded. She held up her hand, which still showed the pads of paws and a sleek silver-blue fur. "As hard as I try, I cannot make the final changes. I cannot change as freely as he just did. I dare not change back at all lest I undo what I have already worked so hard to achieve even if that doesn't seem like much."

"Perhaps if you did revert just for a few days to take a rest, you would be better able to try again," Ashyina suggested sincerely. She disliked these conversations. They always ended in a fight and she wanted Shinga to be happy.

Shinga spun around in a huff, turning her back to them. "I can't take that chance. I am already treated with more disdain by my own kind than the converts. Unless they can accept me for who I am, then I am doomed to be like the unthinkers."

Lapidus would not indulge her. "You are too sensitive," he said. "Most of our kind treat you no differently. Except for a few of the council members, I never felt you were treated differently by the rest of us. Besides, I think some of the council are more unthinking that you are, Shinga. They have forgotten what it was like when we were all unable to change. They act as though they always possessed these abilities and as if they have mastered their old selves despite the fact that we still cannot perform a fraction of the tasks we once could." He looked up at the sky, as he appeared to breathe in unseen nourishment. "Remember the wonders we saw before we took form? Remember what amazing things existed in this strange universe? We cannot come close to seeing them again. We are still here, stuck in one place due to our physical limitations. How is that mastering who we once were? We, who glided so effortlessly among the stars."

Nodding in agreement, Ashyina replied, "It is not coming close to who we once were. As far as I am aware, not one of us has been able to share thoughts with the others yet. Without these vocalisations, we would all still be in our old forms, separated from our peers."

With all these words, Shinga flopped down next to Ashyina, placing her head upon her shoulder. "When will they see that just because I am having difficulties, I am not an unthinker?" She asked.

Lapidus and Ashyina exchanged remorseful looks but said nothing. They all stared out over the fields below as their resignation settled.

"The Monkeys have requested a meeting of the council to share their discoveries," Lapidus explained to change the subject.

"When can we expect the council members to arrive?" Ashyina asked with little interest.

"The Monkeys have already met up with the Cats and both will arrive in a few days. They have already informed the Hawks and sent for the Dragons, who I assume will not take much longer once they know."

She nodded in acknowledgement but said nothing.

Apparently, having had enough of the silence and having said what he had intended, Lapidus stood abruptly. "I passed Barjl on my way here. He says he and some of the others took down a stag today. He was on his way to get the wood for cooking it when I saw him. I think I'll go back to the caves to help."

"We will join you soon," Ashyina replied and they all said their good-byes as Lapidus left them.

After several more moments of silence, Shinga put her arms around Ashyina and squeezed. "You do know I am trying my best, don't you?"

Ashyina returned her gesture in kind and pulled them both down to lie in the grass. She nuzzled Shinga's neck. "I know you try," she said. "I know you are so much more of a Thinker than any of them, which is why I find it so strange that you have such trouble." She kissed Shinga's cheek.

Shinga seemed not to notice the attentions as she stared at the sky. "Do you ever feel like we have made a mistake?" She asked.

Abruptly, Ashyina ceased her attentions, propping herself up on one elbow to look at Shinga's face, "You think this was a mistake?"

Shinga looked into her eyes briefly before staring at the sky again, her entire body now visibly tense. "I was wondering if you did."

"No, you were wondering if I did because you do," Ashyina replied.

Realizing her intentions had been fully exposed, Shinga sat up. "Yes, I often do," she said. "I wonder what it is we really did. Did we even have a right? Why couldn't we just try to find a way home?"

"You are upset because of Avorlig," Ashyina reasoned.

"Does that really make my concerns less valid?" She asked.

"It does because you would never have had them if you were among those who could easily change."

"You still haven't answered my question."

Ashyina's jaw clenched before she said, "I would think that my position is quite clear. We have performed amazing work by bringing thought that did not previously exist. This universe was dead before we came here. There were animals that existed but they did not live. We have changed all that. And look at how it has affected us for the better. We would never have experienced such depths of connection between two individuals without these forms. Think of what it has meant for the two of us? And if one wishes not to be selfish, look at the thinking Children! How can you not see that as a miracle?"

"They do not think when they are dead," Shinga shot back and her words struck Ashyina, forcing her to jump back from the venom.

"When did you become so vicious?" she asked.

Shinga showed no signs of remorse, "When those like Avorlig threatened my thought in favour of their own."

Ashyina placed her head upon Shinga's shoulder and an arm around her waist. "Lapidus is right," she said. "Avorlig is just an old fool. He can't hurt you. I won't let him."

"You will continue to defend me?" Shinga pleaded.

"Of course," Ashyina replied. "I will defend you to the end of your thought even if it means the end of mine. I love you."

Shinga turned to her and kissed her gently on the lips. "I love you too."

By the time they had returned to the caves later that night, the stag had been not only been cooked but also mostly devoured by the dozens of their companions who had heard about the successful hunt.

Lapidus saw them enter the cave from his position by the fire and waved to them to come to him. As they approached, he reached behind the log upon which he sat and pulled out large cuts of cooked meat, saying, "I saved some of the best meat for you. The Children were taking so much I knew you wouldn't make it in time to get it yourselves. Barjl chose a good stag. The meat is delicious."

Barjl threw himself down next to Lapidus, thrust an arm around his shoulders, and grinned. He was a tall, robust, and dark-haired man with vibrant blue eyes. His cloak was folded around his hips baring his now sweaty chest.

"I'm glad you think so, brother," he said. "It is too bad you weren't with us on the hunt."

He gestured to the remainder of the animal that still hung upon the spit. The charred meat filled the cave with a salivating aroma that hung low in the heavy smoke.

Barjl continued, "He gave us quite a fight. He was strong. I had hoped my son, Arken, would be able to practice his skills on this one but even I had to revert to take him down." He nudged Lapidus in the side as he said, "But you probably could have taken him in one shot." He mimicked throwing an imaginary spear through the air.

"I had more important things to attend to," Lapidus replied as he poked at the fire with a long stick he had found within reach.

Ashyina and Shinga sat to his other side as they listened to the conversation.

"So you did," Barjl replied slyly. "What did that old idiot say this time?" At the surprise on Lapidus' face, Barjl replied, "Relax, my friend. I saw you running towards the sea this morning when my group was tracking that animal. You only ever go to the sea to speak to that hermit."

Barjl grabbed a bone that had fallen to the floor, pulled out his flint blade that had been secured within the tied waist of his cloak, and began to whittle it into a point as he continued, "I don't understand why he is still a council member anyway. He doesn't speak to any of our kind except the chosen representatives. He thinks he's better than us."

"Only some of us," Shinga muttered through her food.

Barjl regarded her compassionately. "He's less of a Thinker than you are," he said, letting out a light-hearted sigh. "If only you would leave Ashyina. I could show you such a better time."

Ashyina laughed at his absurd statement. Shinga murmured, "I don't like... males."

Without much remorse, Barjl shrugged his shoulders. "Your loss, pup. I just thought it could have been fun. Maybe your distaste for males has offended Avorlig and that is why he dislikes you?"

"He dislikes her because he dislikes animals and anything animal," Ashyina defended. "Her taste in lovers has nothing to do with his attacks against her."

"You're the head of the council," Barjl said, looking at Ashyina. "Why don't you get rid of him?"

She narrowed her eyes and lifted her chin as she said, "You think I have the right to usurp our own kind now? Even those who have earned their position?"

"Why not?" he asked.

Lapidus interrupted, "Because, if we allowed her to have that kind of power, she could act with impunity and anyone who made her angry, such as a certain big mouthed Wolf, could be the next victim of her wrath. I know you cannot read my thoughts, Barjl, but you must at least remember that we are not individuals of power. We are a collective."

Barjl shrugged again, "It was just wishful thinking."

"You better watch that kind of thinking," Lapidus growled low. "We don't want the other council members to think we are developing a plot for an oppressive regime. Ashyina already has enough to worry about."

At these words, Ashyina involuntarily yawned, causing the others to laugh. She blushed slightly and laughed as well. "Given that I am obviously so burdened, I think that I should find a place to sleep for the night," she said before standing and holding out a hand to Shinga. "Join me?"

Shinga had not yet finished her meat but placed it aside and took her lover's hand as the two of them left together.

* * *

Lapidus watched them leave and waited until he was sufficiently convinced they were no longer within earshot and would not return. He turned to Barjl who was now leaning back against a rock with both his elbows propping him up as he surveyed the fire vacantly.

"I hear you've gotten another girl pregnant," Lapidus commented.

Barjl snorted, "You really don't keep up on what goes on around here. She will give birth any time now. It will be a big litter too. She's counted six."

"Why aren't you with her, if the Children will be born so soon?" Lapidus poked at the fire with his stick, moving the logs to help the good wood burn.

"Miraja? She almost ripped my neck open when I was last there. I was apparently getting on her nerves. That's why I went hunting. Besides, she doesn't need me there. All these women are the same. When it comes to birthing, the man just gets in the way."

"I don't know about that," Lapidus said thoughtfully.

"You don't know because you don't have any Children yet. Not counting this litter, I've had 131 offspring throughout my lives here and I have learned one thing: once I've mated, my role accounts for nothing. If the young are healthy, they will live; if not, they will die. If they are Thinkers, we will guide them if need be and if not, set them free. It never changes."

Lapidus stared into the fire, contemplating his friend's words. There had to be more to it than this. "Why do you think there are more and more Children born thinking whether we inhabit them or not? It seems strange. I sometimes even begin to think that the other animals in this place think, like it is a contagion."

Shrugging, Barjl leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees. "I have no idea why it has happened, but I can tell you that some of those young are a pretty talented bunch. Take my Arken, if no one knew his origins, they would assume he is one of our kind. He is better than I am at most things." He smiled smugly as he added, "Except hunting."

His cheeks fell, "I think Shinga gets too much negativity from the others for her struggles. Some of those young can change faster and better than we can though most of our arrogant lot would never admit it. We like to think the end result is all that matters. As for the other animals, I think you're just imagining things. There has never been any thought in this place before us. How could there have been? No beings of thought would have left this place in such chaos."

"Perhaps," Lapidus replied but his thoughts lingered upon a rabbit he had seen on his journey to the sea. It had not scurried away like most rabbits and, in fact, did not appear wary in the slightest. It seemed to contemplate him and watch as he travelled.

"When are you going to find a girl, or several, and have some Children of your own?" Barjl probed.

"I just haven't found her yet," Lapidus replied sadly.

Barjl looked disgusted and confused. "What is there to find? There are plenty of girls ready to have a good time. Don't you want to explore the pleasures that can be had from these forms?"

Lapidus shot him a warning look. "I did try long ago. There isn't anything wrong with it except that I haven't found anyone who can help me take it deeper. Look at Ashyina and Shinga. They are lovers. They feel deeply for each other. I want that."

"You'll be looking a long time, brother," Barjl warned. "Those ladies are not as happy as you think. I doubt anyone is."

Raising an eyebrow, Lapidus asked, "What do you know?"

"I have just noticed some things," Barjl remarked. "Things that lovers are often blind to until there is a crisis. You'll see. You should have gotten your fun in while you could. There is no point in waiting for the girl who doesn't exist. It isn't like you don't already know the selection. You know each and every one of us. If you don't know which one of us is for you by now, then no one fits your standards."

"Maybe she isn't one of us," he suggested.

"Please do not tell me you would be willing to be with one of the Children," Barjl recoiled.

Quickly, Lapidus raised his hands defensively. "No. Of course not. That would just be strange. I am all for Thinkers with Thinkers and Children with Children."

"Then you have created impossible criteria," Barjl scolded. "No one else exists unless you've decided to go after the unthinkers, you pervert."

Lapidus chuckled. "I'm sure Avorlig would love that. Can you even imagine the look on his face?"

Now Barjl chuckled as he mockingly contemplated the idea. "You know, his face alone might be worth it."

Their laughter trailed off into good-humoured but tired silence. For many moments, they both simply stared at the fire, caught in their own thoughts. Finally, Barjl slapped his legs as he stood and announced he was going to find a good place far from Miraja to curl up in for the night.

Alone with his thoughts, Lapidus could not help but think about the possibilities of others. He had not told Barjl about the rabbit nor had he shared a recurring dream that had long ago begun to haunt his nights.

A beautiful dark haired woman, tall and lithe, with piercing gray eyes tempted him. Her arms were those of a harden hunter with toned muscle and skin marked by scrapes and bruises. Nevertheless, her face was pristine and powerful. Her angular features were somehow gentle.

In each dream, he was lying in the grass alone. The fields were silent. Then, above his face, she would peer down at him before reaching out with a slender hand to caress his cheek. She would smile and mouth something to him that he could not hear or understand. His frustration at being unable to hear her would always wake him. The nights he had this dream, which was almost every night, sleep would elude him afterwards. In addition, he would always feel like he was being watched.

From her appearance and from his feelings in the dream, he knew she was not one of their kind. He had no way of knowing who she was but was becoming more convinced that their assertion that they were the lone Thinkers in this universe may have been misguided.

With a heavy sigh, he changed into his Wolf form. Finding a clear spot on the floor by the fire, he curled up to go to sleep.

* * *

Shinga stood alone at the edge of the forest, looking up at the stars. She had slipped away from Ashyina who had fallen asleep quickly upon the mossy earth in the clearing where they had sought solitude. Without seeing or hearing her, she was convinced she could sense Ashyina still sleeping soundly. As she now looked up at the salted sky, she wondered where amongst those little lights lay the passage to her home, the place where she could be truly free as Shinga. Thought had no limitations there, and beings had no boundaries. Would she ever return to her home? Probably not, she thought bitterly.

She looked back towards the clearing that was obscured from her view by the dense foliage and thought of Ashyina, whom she loved so dearly. Her inability to overcome her shifting difficulties caused Ashyina pain, she knew. It was causing her more and more difficulty as a leader, as more of their kind, who had long ago learned to control such things, began to nurture a growing elitism and self-righteousness.

Looking down at her padded fingers, she concentrated with every drop of energy of her being upon removing them from her fingers. The effort caused sweat to form upon her brow and a headache to pierce her brain but there was no change. Finally, when she thought a blood vessel in her temple might burst, she was forced to stop.

If this problem had not been consistent over more than one lifetime, she would have blamed the body she inhabited. However, such excuses had so little merit that no level of despair and desperation could make such a lie convincing.

Feeling exhausted, pained, and abused, she fumbled her way through the dark, back to the clearing. She curled up next to the soft, white form of Ashyina, and continued with her nightly practice of depriving herself of sleep.

* * *

Avorlig sat cross-legged upon the edge of a jagged, rocky outcropping overlooking the sea as he watched the first hints of dawn appear in the sky. The small wooden hut he had built to call his home was nearby but he had not used it for shelter that night. Feeling uneasy, he now used the salty sea winds to aid his clarity and meditation.

He felt a tickle upon his bare thigh and looked down to see a small, black spider crawling across it. In quiet contemplation, he watched the arachnid crawl to the other side of it and then disappear back into the dirty cracks of the rock.

His attention turned back to his thigh. It had become withered and old somehow. He did not think it had been so long since he had been reborn but now the weathered, pale skin looked weak as it stretched over his prominent bones and sinew. Why, for shape shifters, were they not immune to this aging?

He tried to will his skin youthful, now more out of curiosity than rigid desire. With no change upon his half-hearted efforts, he brushed the thoughts away for the time being and returned to looking out over the sea.

There was now a prominent line of brightened sky along the eastern horizon. The sun was still a long way from warming him but he did not mind. He had become accustomed to the chill of night as he often sat upon this rock when thoughts tormented him and sleep was but a distant consideration that would not be fulfilled.

It was what Akym, the leader of the Monkeys, had included in the message sent him that had forced his sleep to take shelter elsewhere tonight. Discoveries of the past of their being, he had called them. He had refused to divulge any more information than that. The messenger had said that Akym insisted all be told at once before the council. Avorlig had a very strong feeling that these discoveries meant their long hardship of the flesh would be taking a large step towards an end.

He did not mind the state of flesh. There were obvious advantages to a physical nervous system and a corporeal way of being. He even enjoyed not having every one of his kind constantly aware of each of his thoughts. It was the flesh that had shown him what it was like to have something feel completely his own.

It was the lack of control he disliked. It was the inability to move around at will and open his perception to everything in the universe and perceive it, to manipulate whatever one wanted in whatever way he wanted it, to share thoughts that are most easily expressed without vocalisations. Those were the things he longed to regain. To be corporeal and not corporeal at the same time would be the ultimate state of being.

Letting out a large sigh, he thought of his visit from Lapidus. That boy had come to him often, always with a new argument for the sake of protecting the weak. Protecting the Children he understood, even vehemently believed they were obligated to do, but Shinga was another matter. Although having more difficulty than some of the Children, she was not an innocent as they were. She had much deeper range and ability of thought. She was one of them not some unthinking animal. The Children were not unthinking but by accident of their birth, they were animals. However, they were animals of the Thinkers' creation, which led to an obligation to protect what they had unwittingly started. As Shinga was not an animal, it was unacceptable for her to remain that way. If they were ever going to find a way to return through the passage to their home, they would have to be unified in skill and in intent. He was sure of that.

Therefore, he had begun a campaign against her, arguing that she must prove she is still a Thinker as they are or be given the same status as the animals. For his part, he did not understand the fuss in his request. If she truly were one of them, she would master the transition to human form and prove to them all that she was not an unthinker. If she could not, his argument was and she no longer belonged among them. It was a simple task.

In Lapidus' last visit, he had argued that none before had ever had to prove their worth simply because of varying abilities. He had gone on to say that even the Children were never put to any tests to prove their thought. However, these were absurd arguments that did not apply. Children were not tested but they were observed, those showing thought being adopted and those without it turned out to the wild. They either had it or they did not and this was always quite obviously shown. As for never having tested their own kind, this too was absurd. They had never had a need in the past but that did not mean they had no need now.

There had always been great variations among them in how long it would take to adapt and master a new skill but they always succeeded in the end. It had been hundreds of years since the others of their kind had learned to change their form properly and Shinga still struggled, life after life. There was no growth, no form of improvement. Not only did her body still bear wolfish characteristics, but even her clothing was the same as what many of the less adept Children wore; a piecing together of various materials to make a robe-like covering.

As each of them was reborn, they would have to remember their past. Their memories were often hidden during the process of rebirth but most regained them quickly enough to make great strides. Shinga always struggled greatly. It took a full ten years in this life for her to remember who she was. Each life for her seemed to become more difficult. For him, he felt that was evidence enough that she was losing her thought. It was obvious that Ashyina and Lapidus did not agree but someday soon he would force the issue before the council. For now, he would have to wait as the more pressing matters of the Monkeys' discoveries loomed.

The sun broke over the horizon in the distance. He took that as his signal to make one last effort to feign sleep. He would not succumb. He never did, but he would at least give his body a rest. Standing, he took one long look at the scene around him; the craggy rocks, the vast sea, the surrounding forests that so effectively made his home secluded. He breathed in deeply their serenity before heading into his home.

## Chapter 2

The days leading up to the council meeting passed far too quickly for Ashyina's liking. Although she felt justified in leading the council and enjoyed the task of helping improve their race, the meetings themselves often descended into nagging sessions forced upon her by the other representatives. Perhaps this meeting would be different but she highly doubted it.

It was now the day the others would be arriving and they did not disappoint. Dawn had barely broken when she was poked awake by Lapidus. Blinking away the blur, she felt her form change as she became more alert. In a moment, she was a human seated upon the soft earth of the clearing. She looked around at the dark forest and then up through a small opening in the canopy to see the paling sky.

"Do you have something against sleep?" she grumbled.

In truly compassionate fashion, he laughed. "It isn't that early. Besides, you know I wouldn't bother you unless I had to."

She groaned. "They're here, aren't they?"

"Barjl saw them and came to get me. He says they should be here any time."

Looking around, she noticed Shinga was gone. "Did you see where Shinga went?" she asked.

He looked at the ground before explaining, "She wandered off in the night no doubt to avoid the visit of a certain Hawk."

She strained as she attempted to stand gracefully. "We will probably not see her again until the council is over," she said, resigned. "Let's get back to the caves. I want to get this over with myself."

He put out a hand to help steady her when she wobbled a little. "There is no reason to believe this will be an uncomfortable meeting. It may be very enlightening."

She gave him an incredulous look. "You only say that because you never have to be under the scrutiny of the entire council. Any meeting with Avorlig and Gryp are always uncomfortable."

As they walked from the forest, Lapidus mused about their comrades. "I always wondered why Gryp is reborn as a Dragon in each life. He doesn't even seem to like them."

"He doesn't like much of anything," she replied.

He shrugged in agreement and it was at this moment that Ashyina looked at him and noticed the state of his face for the first time. It appeared blotchy and there were dark circles and swelling under his eyes.

"What happened to you?" she exclaimed.

He shrugged again, this time not with mild indifference but with irritation. "I didn't sleep well."

"I don't think you slept at all," she replied. "When was the last time you even rested?"

He mumbled something about possibly having slept few days prior. They continued walking to the caves in silence, arriving just as Avorlig and the other Hawk council member became visible. They had emerged from the dense forests that lay at the eastern end of the base of the rock face.

Avorlig's fellow Hawk was a tall, young woman named Igella. She was thin and blond with smooth features. Despite her fair colouring, her eyes were almost black. Her appearance would have been off putting if it had not been for the fact that, as much as Avorlig could be an arrogant windbag, she could be a kind, gentle, and compassionate friend. Where Avorlig was known for his never-faltering focus on the serious, she was known for her free spirit. All who knew her found her to be a beautiful person.

She smiled and waved both arms in greeting upon seeing Ashyina and Lapidus, who returned her gesture in kind. Avorlig scowled when Ashyina and Lapidus altered course to meet them.

Lapidus leaned closer to Ashyina to whisper in her ear, "At least Avorlig has been gracious enough to wear clothes this time." She suppressed a giggle.

"Greetings," Igella called gaily. "It has been a beautiful day. I wish I could have flown here. The winds would have been perfect." She nudged Avorlig in the side with her elbow, much to his dislike. "This one here insisted we walk. We would have arrived last night otherwise."

"I have worked hard to elevate myself above an animal, Igella," he muttered. "I have no desire to undo my work."

She brushed his comment aside, addressing Ashyina and Lapidus. "I think he would have us believe he doesn't even revert when he sleeps." She looked at him and gasped at a feigned revelation. "That is why you deprive yourself of sleep! You wouldn't lower yourself." She laughed, not noticing Ashyina and Lapidus' surprise.

Ashyina had not known Avorlig was prone to such a practice and found it disturbing and humourous that he and Shinga had something in common. Inwardly, she chuckled at what he would think if he had ever been told such a similarity existed. There would undoubtedly be much blustering on his part.

At that moment, they heard a screechy roar from the south. They turned to face the rolling fields and saw two dark specks in the now bright sky. As the specks grew into identifiable shapes, the sun illuminated the two travellers. One was a large reddish-black animal. He had enormous back feet with equally sizable claws and a rounded belly. His wings were nearly pitch black with only the slightest hint of an iridescent red as they powerfully pushed up and down through the air.

The other traveller looked like a large, emerald green serpent with light green, delicate wings. They flattened gracefully upon the winds as the Dragon's body oscillated through the air.

"Why are they coming from the south?" Lapidus wondered aloud.

Within moments, the two large Dragons landed lightly upon the earth in front of them and changed form. The large serpent changed into a dark-haired woman they all knew well as Ventha. Her skin was deeply tanned and her hair was knotted on top of her head. Her eyes were equally dark, matching her complexion perfectly. She smiled pleasantly and stepped forward to give Igella a greeting hug.

"It has been too long, my sister," she said. Her affectionate gesture was gentle and controlled.

Igella returned the hug and began to speak but was interrupted by Gryp, who seemed very agitated. Gryp was a tall man with abnormally broad shoulders. His hair and beard were dark and neat with only a few streaks of grey.

"Avorlig, we flew to meet you and you weren't there," he grunted. "We had thought we could fly here together."

"He insisted we walk," Igella explained for the second time that morning.

Gryp rolled his eyes and took in an irritated breath. "You are such a fool," he vented.

"We have arrived, haven't we?" Avorlig asked simply.

Ventha looked around. "I do not see any Cats or Monkeys present," she observed.

"They have much further to come without the help of wings," Ashyina reasoned. She looked at the sky as though perceiving something the rest of them could not. "They will arrive before midday, I'm sure."

Lapidus gestured towards the caves, "Barjl is cooking some grouse he managed to snare this morning. They should be nearly finished. We also have an assortment of berries we discovered yesterday."

The group followed him to the same large cave they had used when cooking the stag. They sat around the fire as they ate the food Barjl offered them.

Usually a talkative man, he would always be uncharacteristically quiet around the council. However, it never escaped Ashyina's notice that he was listening quite intently to all that was said. Barjl was a light-hearted soul but he was not stupid and without the ability to know what everyone else was thinking, he always acted wary of non-Wolves.

The group spent the morning in idle conversation that even Avorlig would be unable to make uncomfortable and it was exactly midday when Lapidus pointed to the southern hills. They all followed his hand to see a large male lion and a lithe cheetah, each with Monkeys on their backs, galloping towards the caves. At this sight, they all stood and walked leisurely to meet the remainder of the council.

Though the two riders had the reverted forms of Barbary macaques. Monkey Thinkers generally could be of any species. In fact, in the last several generations of their race, it had become possible for some of their kind to be born human without any reverted form. However, this was still quite rare and both of the approaching members of that race had been reborn before any such thing had happened.

By the time they had reached each other, the Monkeys had jumped to the ground and all four individuals had changed shape. Akym, the larger of the two Monkeys, had changed into a young, tawny haired man with sparkling green eyes. He was not as tall as most of the others. He smiled broadly at those who had already been present and gave an overly dramatic hug to Ashyina.

"I have something you will be thrilled to learn, my old friend," he beamed.

The smaller Monkey had changed into a petite, dark-skinned, young woman with brilliantly bright blue eyes and golden-brown hair. They had known this form of Gringa only a short time. In her last incarnation, she had chosen to alter her shifted appearance. When she walked forward to join them, the power hidden behind her petite frame was obvious. She held her head high naturally. Smiling in greeting, she gave a much calmer embrace to Ashyina than her companion had.

The cheetah they knew as Ferra. She was now a robustly built woman with breasts and hips so overly exaggerated for the rest of her frame that they were evident beneath her cloak. Her auburn hair waved its way down to her knees and appeared to be made of the softest cotton. Her green eyes easily matched the rich hues of a spruce tree. Unlike the Monkeys, she simply smiled warmly and nodded to both Ashyina and Lapidus. Her eyes accidentally fell upon Avorlig, who had been glaring at her. She gave him a curt nod.

The lion had taken the form of a giant, muscular man. He was not old but had the beginnings of stress lines etching his tanned features. His shoulders were broad due not only to his musculature but also to his large frame. His fingers could have easily wrapped around Ashyina's entire hand. His violet eyes surveyed the group, stopping as they passed by Avorlig. He gave an indiscernible grunt before muttering something about at least there not being a spectacle this time.

Avorlig, whether real or pretend, acted as though he had not heard. Akym, however, had easily heard the comment and immediately jumped to defuse any brewing hostilities. "Now, now, Kiran," he said. "We're all friends here. Besides, Gringa and I have exciting news. We have wasted enough time getting here to do this properly." He addressed Ashyina, "Where would you have us hold today's meeting?"

She gestured for them to follow and led them back to the main cave. Upon entering, Akym seemed good-heartedly incredulous. His demeanour was strange and she had trouble reading his intent.

"Surely we need a far more secluded place to have our discussions," he said as he looked around. "One that better fits our purpose," he added. His grin became impish as he turned to Gringa. "Shall we improve our accommodations?" he asked her, to which she nodded firmly.

To the bewilderment of the remaining council, Akym and Gringa walked to the very back of the cave and, together, placed their palms upon the stone. As though they were meditating, they closed their eyes and appeared to alter their breathing. Beneath their hands, the stone appeared to become malleable. It liquidly changed, without a sound or a rumble, to create an arched opening through which they could see a path curve out of view.

Not a single person moved or spoke as they stared at the new door. It appeared naturally formed and yet geometrically perfect. A blue, ambient glow with no visible source lit the path. Until it turned a corner, its form was clearly discernable.

When Ashyina had regained her senses, she looked at Akym, who was giving her a silly grin.

"I told you it was exciting," he boasted. "Now, let us enter our new council chamber to conduct a proper meeting."

In a near-trance, the council followed him through the archway and down the path that descended slightly as it twisted and wound its way to an unseen destination. Akym traversed the path like an expert guide. After several moments, he turned a sharp corner, walked through another archway, and emerged into a large circular room with a domed ceiling. A shaft of sunlight filled the centre of the room and all looked up to see in the ceiling a perfectly circular hole that opened to the outside. The room itself appeared just as the archways and the tunnel, geometrically perfect yet still like a natural formation. Upon the floor, at equal intervals, were ornate spirals just large enough for a person to stand.

Gringa was the last to enter. Akym waited for her to join him before speaking again, "Each of you may take a place upon a spiral. This feels much better, does it not?"

The others looked around, still stunned by what they were witnessing, before slowly choosing a spiral upon which to stand. Once everyone had been situated, Akym turned to Ashyina who was awaiting his explanation.

"I know you will find this shocking but this new ability is not our only surprise for today. I will get to the second but first I must share how we made such a leap forward," Akym began.

"Yes," Gryp grunted. "How have you achieved something the rest of us have been unable to manage despite thousands of years of effort?"

Akym gave Gryp a smile that did not reach his eyes. He continued his explanation without addressing Gryp's hostility. "You may be further surprised that it was one of our Children that showed us this ability," he said.

He paused as this information was comprehended by the group. Most Children were unable to achieve the same skills as a Thinker. Those who managed such feats were very rare. It had never happened before that one of the Children had surpassed the current skills of the best Thinkers.

Akym continued, "It was during a feast that we noticed a group of Children huddled together. They were extremely interested by something and so we investigated. One of them had been impressing his friends by changing the form of a rock into various shapes.

"We immediately interrogated the young man about how he was doing it. At first, he was confused. We had not known that he had been able to manipulate such things for quite some time. He had never shown us because he did not realize it was such a unique talent. It was difficult for him to articulate what it was he was doing but we manage to conclude that he could identify a vibration of being we had not been able to perceive in these forms. It is at this level of existence that he makes the changes.

"Upon this discovery and our own subsequent experiments, we discovered this was also the basis for us to change our own forms. However, what we had not realized was that we can change ourselves so easily because we are already directly connected to this level of being that exists in all things. It is this that we are changing, not our appearance. That is simply a side effect. With this in mind, we began to experiment with ourselves too." He motioned to Gringa who changed her simple cloak into an ornate gown with beautiful golden spirals upon its red fabric.

"How are you able to maintain such complexity on top of your human form?" Igella asked breathlessly. "Don't you find it tiring?"

"This is the amazing thing," Akym interjected excitedly. "When one makes the changes at the appropriate level, it is very easy to maintain. Although we have not managed to come close to proving it, we hope that eventually when one effectively makes the change at this level, the metamorphosis is finished. There would be no need to concentrate, even slightly, upon maintaining the form. With the way we were changing shape before, we concentrated too much upon the physical outcome. In this way, we were only weakly connected to the vibration of which I speak. That is why we must always have some focus on maintaining the form. If we can someday perfect this new technique, we could possibly keep our forms even when we are asleep."

At these words, Avorlig leaned forward hungrily. Ashyina was also greatly interested in this new ability as she felt it explained the difficulties Shinga had been having and could mean a swift solution.

"How do you connect with this level of being?" Avorlig asked.

"We will teach you," Akym said. "Once you have found it, the rest is quite simple. But first I must show you our second discovery.

"Once we had made this realization about tapping into other vibrations of being, we discovered something that, even when our kind first came to this universe, we had not perceived. There is an underlying connectivity that flows throughout this entire universe."

He nodded to Gringa who smiled slyly before disappearing entirely. All present but for Akym turned around, searching for her within the room.

"She is not here anymore; nor any place nearby," he explained. "We could have come to this meeting with only a thought but wanted to show you this ability properly, so we held back." He said nothing now as he appeared to wait for Gringa's return.

He did not have to wait long as within moments she reappeared immediately before Ashyina. She held out something in her hand. Upon it lay a strange bluish plant with bulbs all the way up and down its one, thick stem. It jumped onto two roots, turned a violent shade of glowing orange and began to run circles around Gringa's palm, shrieking. Every person took in a collective gasp.

"I know where this is from," Ashyina whispered as she reached out to touch the creature. "We saw this when we were first pulled to this place. That planet is nearly across the universe from us."

Gringa nodded smugly. "I should probably take him back too," she said. "He'll explode if I torment him much longer." She was gone again in an instant.

"Once we found this connectivity to the universe," Akym began to explain while they waited for Gringa to return, "We began to experiment with trying to align our own forms to its vibration. We discovered that when we did this, we could go anywhere we wanted in the entire universe with only our thought."

Avorlig now appeared as though he were being presented with the most mouth-watering of feasts. "We should all learn this as soon as possible," he exclaimed.

At that moment, there was a flash of blinding light that lasted for several seconds before fizzling. From its epicentre, Gringa fell to the floor groaning in pain. Akym ran to her and helped her up. There were lacerations on her frame and scorched marks upon her face but as she seemed to come back to herself, the wounds disappeared. "Sorry," she muttered to Akym who turned to the rest.

"Yes, I was about to explain that part," he apologized. "This isn't as easy as it looks. There is still a great level of concentration that is required. If it isn't done perfectly, there can be consequences. Not a single particle of your being can be unconnected to this vibration. You must exist only on its plane." He brightened considerably as he said, "We haven't had any deaths."

"Can the Children do this too?" Kiran asked, intrigued. "You said you learned the shape manipulation from one of them. I am curious to know if they can do this as well."

Akym was deliberately measured in his words as he replied, "The young boy of whom I spoke has successfully managed with some guidance. He is much more limited, succeeding mostly in attempts to travel only on this planet. As he has not seen or experienced the rest of the universe, larger jumps are more difficult but I believe we can teach them."

"What of sharing our thoughts?" Ferra interjected.

At this, Gringa and Akym shared an uneasy look before Gringa turned back to Ferra. "We have made a progress of sorts," she began. "In exploring the different vibrations of existence, we were easily able to find the thoughts of the Children. We can hear their thoughts quite easily. However," she paused, "The vibration of our thoughts has eluded us. Despite extreme effort, we have been unable to discover that which had once connected us. We cannot understand why this is so difficult. Based upon the other skills we have reclaimed, we concluded it should be even easier to converse with each other telepathically than it is to manipulate the forms of other things or travel to distant places. Theoretically, we should have some level of our own beings already on the same plain. I am sorry not to have better news."

Ferra looked saddened but Ashyina would not let this meeting end in disappointment given all they had witnessed. "This is not a problem" she said simply. "It has been hundreds of years since we last made any progress and in one day we have been shown how to regain much of our ability. We will discover the rest in time. For now, we will have our hands full perfecting these new talents. It is greatly encouraging." She turned to Akym, "Now teach us how to do this."

* * *

It was nearly sunset when Shinga watched the council members say their good-byes at the cave mouth. She was hidden behind the foliage at the edge of the western forest. Everyone appeared somehow different. Only Gringa, who was wearing a beautiful garment of red and gold the likes of which she had never seen, looked physically different from before entering the cave.

She saw Avorlig saying his farewells and noticed that, for the first time in her memory, he appeared happy, even excited. Her heart dropped, lodging itself somewhere behind her navel. If Avorlig was that pleased, he must have convinced the council to agree with him about her. Her heart raced, causing a cold sweat to appear upon her skin. Frantically, she stared at Ashyina, who had her back to her. She could have drilled a hole in the back of Ashyina's head with the intensity of her focus. As Lapidus and Ashyina were finishing their last words with Akym and Kiran, Ashyina turned. Her face became visible and she was... laughing.

Instantly, Shinga's mind was an uproar of confusion. She did not know if she should be relieved, fearful, hurt. Her mind attempted to sort it out, becoming filled with a cacophony of loud and frantic thoughts that were too many to be understood but too boisterous to be ignored.

When the last of the council members had left, Shinga dared to stand from her hiding place and walked towards the caves. This task was made extremely difficult by her legs' refusal to cooperate as they too seemed unsure of how to proceed. With no clue what she would say or do when she reached Ashyina, she walked vacantly forward, a form of numbness setting into everything above her shoulders.

Lapidus and Ashyina were still standing at the cave entrance in their own light-hearted conversation as she approached. Upon seeing her, Ashyina's face brightened and she ran to her to take her into a warm embrace.

"I have so much to share with you. It is wonderful news and our problems will soon be over," she gushed.

Shinga looked over Ashyina's shoulder to see Lapidus smiling at her.

"Come, you two," he said. "You can discuss all of it while we have some food."

Shinga listened intently to the detailed explanation. Despite their afternoon of being taught the techniques by Akym, none of the council had succeeded in performing the tasks but all were confident they would in time. Given her history, this news caused Shinga only further despair. To her, it meant there would be one more thing she could not succeed at doing right.

Ashyina seemed convinced that in these new techniques lay the solution to Shinga's problem and, therefore, the source of any of their discord. Although Shinga was not convinced, she tried to appear thoughtful so as not to dash Ashyina's hopes with her melancholy.

"We'll show that Avorlig how much you really are one of us. When you master your form, he won't be able to complain anymore," Ashyina said.

Shinga gave a weak smile.

"Don't underestimate Avorlig," Lapidus warned. "He will always find something to complain about. He does nothing else." He stood and looked out of the cave as he said, "I think I'm finished for tonight. I'm going to find a place to sleep."

Ashyina wrinkled her nose, "You have not touched any of the rabbit. Are you ill?"

He eyed the carcasses of the small animals that remained upon the spit. "I haven't been in the mood for rabbit," he said with a hint of disgust before leaving Shinga and Ashyina alone with their food.

* * *

Kiran and Ferra had travelled through most of the night. They did not have much to fear of the nocturnal beasts while in their Cat forms and could keep cool as they travelled. Thick fur and running in relentless sunlight did not make a comfortable combination.

Akym and Igella used their newly formed abilities to return home easily and did not bother to keep them company. Kiran preferred it this way. He liked Akym but found him tiring in large doses. The man was simply too excited about everything.

The lion and cheetah stopped upon a rocky outcropping overlooking the sea and sniffed the air. There was no change in the light of the sky, but they could tell that dawn would appear soon. They would have to stop and rest until the evening. It would be several more nights of running along the sea before they would be near their home. For now, they managed to find a badger for their dinner and built a fire upon which to cook it.

As Kiran was not a talkative person, they sat quietly for some time as they ate their meal. He was almost finished when Ferra spoke.

"You didn't tell them why we were already on our way to see them," she noted, trying to sound unconcerned.

"It didn't matter anymore," he grumbled without looking at her.

She scoffed. "How could it not matter? Because of Akym's news? It changes nothing. They need to know."

Kiran threw his food aside in anger and stared intensely into Ferra's eyes. "I said it did not matter. We are no longer discussing this." With the force of his anger, he stood and stormed from the fire, venturing into the woods for time alone.

When he was far enough that he could no longer hear the crackling of the wood in the fire and could tell the dawn was near only when he forced his head upwards, he stopped and breathed deeply through his nose, letting the cool air cleanse his being. As if he were snuggling into the cosiest sleep, he let his body relax into his lion form. After a few more breathes, he sauntered through the woods, deliberately aware of each tickle of grass or scrape of rock upon his paws. It was not until this night, when Ferra had confronted him, that he had realized how stressed he had been in the last few weeks. He was losing control of himself.

As he looked up to the path ahead, this thought felt only more confirmed as his eyes fell upon the spectre of a beautiful human woman. He shook his head. He was surely seeing things, but the attempt to come back to himself did not work. She appeared only more solid. Her creamy, naked skin seemed to give off steam in the cold morning air as though she had been covered in dew. Her light blond hair danced around her as if suspended in water. As she smiled at him, he noticed her eyes were completely white.

With one hand, she gently beckoned for him to follow her as she turned and walked through the trees. He took a large breath both to steady himself and to resign himself to the fact that what he had planned to tell the council would most likely be about to happen to him. He did not resist. He responded to her summons.

The sun was nearly up by the time she stopped in a clearing bordered by five large trees and turned to face him. Her form appeared fainter in the light. She stood in an unremarkable spot but pointed to the earth at her feet as she smiled again before turning into a serpent and slithering away.

Confused, he stepped forward and sniffed the earth. There was nothing out of the ordinary as far as he could tell. He pawed at the dirt half-heartedly before deciding to leave. As he turned to do so, he felt rooted to the spot and could not explain why he suddenly had the urge to dig as hard as he could in the indicated area.

His paws worked powerfully and feverishly and despite his rapid progress, he somehow knew it would take some time to reach whatever it was he sought. With his strong paws, he pulled aside soil, silt, and clay until he almost jumped out of the hole from a sudden pain in one of his paws. He looked at the damage to see a small cut upon one of his pads. The edges looked neat but it was difficult to tell through the blood. Looking down to find the cause, he saw something that appeared to be a blue crystal. Carefully, he dug around the item as best he could until it was revealed.

A long, crystal spear lay at his feet. The spearhead was an octahedron with its base seamlessly narrowing into the long, perfect shaft of the same material. There were no imperfections in the craftsmanship despite how delicate it appeared and the hiding place in which he had found it. At the neck of the spear was a ring of small darkly coloured orbs of an unidentifiable material. There were several purple and one red. Next to the red, there was one orb that looked like a cloudy marble as it had purple clouds frozen in their attempt to consume the red.

Looking down at his feet once more, he noticed the edge of something else laying at the end of the spear handle. He removed this too from its burial place. It was a small, circular disk that was not much larger than his relaxed paw. It was as thick as a human palm, appeared to be made of some kind of pale blue and yellow stone, and had a thick rim and a relief on both sides. The images he did not recognize. They appeared as random lines and circles to him.

When he finally stopped examining the strange objects, he carefully took them into his large jaw and walked back to the fire where Ferra was curled up asleep. Quietly he set the objects aside to do the same. His usual ease of sleep did not elude him despite the events. Within moments, he too was in slumber.

## Chapter 3

Lapidus jolted awake from the ever-familiar dream. Looking around, he was surprised to see it was already morning. As he changed to a seated human, he wiped his hand down his face in a steadying gesture. His jaw went slack and he stared at his feet as nausea swept over him. As the sensation began to subside, he turned to look at the ground behind him and confirmed that the pain in his back had been caused by falling asleep on a fist-sized rock. Mad at himself, he picked up the stone and flung it into the bushes. He longed for the day he could manipulate the world like Akym and make himself a comfortable place to sleep.

Looking up, he saw that he was in a clearing bordered by five trees near the edge of the forest. The last remnants of a morning mist hovered over the nearby fields. Strangely, he could not remember having chosen this spot to sleep. In fact, his last memory was of walking through the trees deep in the forest, feeling wide-awake. Standing, he dusted himself off and walked back to the caves, which were nearby.

He heard shouting and frantic conversation coming from the main cave. He began to jog to see what was happening. There were several Children hovering around the entrance. One of them was Arken; a tall, blond man with a magnificent build. Barjl had insisted upon teaching the boy to hunt from the time of his first transformation and it showed in his toned musculature and scarred arms.

The Children were listening to the shouting from within the cave and many of them looked worried. As Lapidus neared the entrance, several of them stood back with their eyes wide and their mouths agape.

"What is going on?" he asked.

All but Arken shrunk back and said nothing. "You better go inside," he suggested without giving any information.

Without hesitation, Lapidus entered to find Ashyina and Barjl, who might have been competing for who could yell the loudest.

"Simply because you are completely irresponsible, Barjl, doesn't mean everyone else behaves that way," she screamed.

Barjl was equally agitated and yelled back, "And just because you are an uptight old bitch doesn't mean the rest of us are." He forced his voice to calm and continued, "Give him some time. He'll show up."

"Who will show up?" Lapidus interjected.

Barjl and Ashyina both looked at him with jaws on the floor.

"Where have you been?" Ashyina shrieked.

Barjl puffed out his chest with his vindication and dared to taunt her as he said, "I told you he would come back." Gesturing at Lapidus, he added, "See, fine, just like I said."

Lapidus was completely confused. "What are you talking about?"

Ashyina walked up to him and eyed his face suspiciously. "You have been missing for three weeks," she explained.

The insanity of her news caused him to falter a step back. "That can't be. I just woke up at the edge of the forest. I was asleep."

"We have been searching these forests since you disappeared," she seethed. "Don't lie to me. There was no evidence of you in them. No tracks, no scent. There is no way you could have been sleeping so near to the caves for three weeks!"

Putting his hands up defensively, he tried to tell her what he remembered. Upon hearing his version of events, she furrowed her brow and walked in circles around the fire.

"It's a lucky thing you showed up when you did," Barjl commented. "Ashyina and I were just arguing about whether we should send for the council. None of our people have disappeared like this before."

"It doesn't seem like three weeks to me," Lapidus shared. "I was sure it had just been one night."

Ashyina continued to pace the fire in silence.

In her stead, Barjl replied, "This means it is far more serious than if you had just wandered off. We will have to find out why."

Ashyina looked up at the pair. "We won't find out anything," she said. "We searched those woods and there was nothing. Now, you are back as strangely as you left. You do not remember anything. For now, we can do nothing. If it happens again or to anyone else, we will send for the council."

With these words, Lapidus turned to leave the cave. Ashyina called after him, "You aren't going anywhere. I don't want you disappearing again, possibly for good. Sit down."

Lapidus grumbled. With these new revelations, the last thing he felt he should be doing was sitting in a cave. "You're being unreasonable," he said. "I can't sit here forever."

"No, only as long as I feel is necessary," she affirmed importantly.

Ashyina had never annoyed Lapidus before. They were good friends and he often agreed with her views. However, her current behaviour made him wish he were still sleeping uncomfortably on that rock. Treating him like one of the younger Children made his anger boil in his head. He walked to her, stopping only inches away.

He was much taller than she and deliberately used his height to tower over her. His words were slow and forcibly controlled. "You may be the head of the council but you have no say about my life. If you forget that again, we will have a problem."

Without looking at her again, he walked from the cave, only briefly noticing Barjl's slack-jawed admiration at his display. At the cave entrance, he noticed those who had been gathered scurrying away to avoid his path. Arken eyed him curiously but Lapidus was not about to stop to chat with anyone. He returned to the forest where he had awoken, hoping that Ashyina was wrong; that he would indeed find some clue as to what had happened to him.

Once back at the spot where he had regained consciousness, he looked around for any. Kneeling down on one knee, he skimmed his hand over the moist soil as he examined the varying particles of dirt, bark, and leaves. Nothing seemed strange until he realized he could hear no noise, not even from the usual forest creatures or the activity in the nearby caves.

He stood to take another look at his surroundings. It was just a clearing. Looking up at the sky, he observed the familiar cloudless blue expanse. For a moment, he closed his eyes and breathed deeply as he tried to cleanse the anger from his body.

A rustle of leaves broke his reverie and he instantly opened his eyes to look for the cause. In the narrow openings between the leaves of a low-lying shrub, he saw the eyes of a small, brown and white rabbit with violet eyes looking out at him. Once it had realized he could see it, it turned and ran.

Without hesitation, he chased after the small animal. After a few moments, he realized he was not fast enough and reverted, which was nearly impossible when the mind and body raced as they did.

He dodged trees and shrubs and surprised animals, never taking his eyes from the puff of the rabbit's tail ahead of him. The woods were unusually dark, which made seeing the animal more difficult but he did not relent. His heart leapt in excitement as he appeared to be closing the gap. Then, the rabbit made a quick turn behind a rock.

He followed only to find that he could no longer see it. He stopped so suddenly that his momentum almost made him fall forward on his nose. As he regained himself, he strained his ears to listen for any rustle of leaves or paws upon the earth.

The forest was no longer silent as before and his ears twitched as he identified squirrels and birds going about their daily movements but there was no rabbit. He sniffed the forest floor and the air but the animal had strangely left no scent.

Frustrated, he turned to make his way back to the caves. He had been tormented enough for one day and now sitting by the fire, away from strange rabbits, seemed much more amenable.

* * *

Many weeks after the council meeting, Gringa found Akym late one afternoon sitting at the water's edge. They were near the base of a large waterfall, which was the most prominent characteristic of their jungle home. As she squatted next to him, she regarded the water calmly for a moment before turning her head to look down the stream where several of the other Monkeys were bathing at the water's edge. The younger Monkeys splashed and played while the older ones calmly went about their task.

Akym did not want to be disturbed and pretended not to notice her. Trying to regain his concentration, he listened to the comforting loud roar of the falls as he explored the strange stone one of the Children had found.

It was shaped like a half-diamond, split from the top point down to the bottom with an elongated base. It resembled a lop-sided pyramid. There were small squiggles, lines, and open circles carved into its stippled surface.

Although it looked pale gray, like any normal stone or pebble, he had been sure he had noticed the hint of iridescent purple when it had reflected the sun's rays as it was handed to him earlier that day. The colour had only lasted a short moment before vanishing and he had since been unable to replicate the effect. After spending hours turning it and flipping it in his palm, in which it rested quite comfortably, he had not seen any change in its surficial appearance and was now attempting to probe the vibration of the stone with his mind.

This was the strangest aspect of the stone. The vibration of it was as elusive to him as the thoughts of his own kind. Despite his futile exploration, he could not help feeling as though its secrets would be revealed to him if only he could delve slightly deeper than his current abilities allowed. As it was, he could make no connection to it, not even to manipulate its form as he could do so easily with other rocks of the earth.

He jumped when Gringa spoke to him, having immersed himself so much in thought that he had forgotten she had joined him.

"You must consider the possibility that it is nothing more than a stone," she offered.

He snorted as he looked at her through the corner of his eye before turning his gaze back to the object. "How did it make this shape and get these symbols upon it then?" He added.

She shrugged, undeterred. "Perhaps one of the Children made it many lifetimes ago and we only found it now. It may be nothing more than the evidence of an afternoon of boredom."

"I am glad I do not lack imagination like you do," he insulted back but gave a smile as he said it.

She raised a brow in humour as she replied, "Whatever you think, I would recommend not calling a council meeting for it. After our last news, they may get overly excited only to be disappointed by a rock."

Holding it up to her face, he explained, "This rock is hiding something. I saw a strange colour as it caught the sunlight and I know it isn't anything normal." Pre-empting any objections she was about to give, he added, "And it wasn't like the feathers of a bird or the wings of an insect. This was a change at a very fundamental level. I just need to find out why."

Heaving a sigh, she said, "I do not share your view or your enthusiasm on the matter but you are entitled to waste your own time as you wish." She stood, adding, "I think I shall join the others," before leaving him.

Frustrated with her defeatist attitude and his own lack of progress, Akym needed to escape everyone to focus upon his task. He needed his own place like the council chamber. He could do experiments as much as he liked without being watched by Gringa or interrupted by anyone else.

He climbed to his feet and looked around for a suitable location. When his eyes passed over the waterfall, he nodded to himself, feeling it would be quite appropriate. After walking up to the stone, he placed both hands upon it and focused his intent.

As the stone within hollowed and as that hollow lengthened, its changed vibration sang to him. He pushed it and guided it until it came to him, creating a path for him to use.

Satisfied with his efforts, he walked along the new path as it wound its way behind the wall of water. The cave extended back from the falls exactly as he had intended. Unfortunately, it was much darker inside than he had hoped. He would have to get some firewood before resuming his experiments.

* * *

The Dragon's had no set borders as their flight allowed them to travel the globe with ease. However, the main concentration of their kind was in the humid and hot areas of the far east as this type of climate proved ideal for their reptilian forms.

However, Gryp preferred to escape to the planet's highest mountain peaks, whenever he was finding the company of others distasteful. He sat upon the tallest of all the mountains, his large claws dug deeply into the stone so that he did not lose his balance as the winds buffeted his large wings. The piercing frigidity gave him a masochistic pleasure.

On this particular occasion, he had left the other Dragons who were celebrating after several of them had managed to teleport successfully. It had been a small victory of moving only a short distance but any opportunity for revelry was always taken. Unfortunately, Dragon celebrations also tended to include quite a bit of violence. When one of the young bucks had been nearly mortally injured, Gryp fled in disgust at the display.

If it were not for the power he felt in his enormous Dragon form or the freedom the flight allowed him, he would not have chosen to be a Dragon at all. How their society had been evolving was not what he had had in mind. Now that teleportation was becoming an ever closer reality, his desire to continue taking such a form was waning.

The Wolves at least had a proper chain of command to follow even if they could be equally violent when the mood suited them. Their Children did not freely challenge their superiors, especially not openly, like was becoming the habit amongst his own kind.

Taking in a deep, freezing breath that pierced his lungs, he closed his eyes and pulled himself up tall. After taking note of every sensation in his being, he exhaled the air in one large gust and opened his eyes to look at the sun. It was low on the horizon.

He turned his head to look out over his surroundings, in quiet contemplation. As he did so, he noticed a small spot in the distant eastern sky and scowled.

As the serpent-like form made its way to him, he pretended not to notice her at first, turning instead back to the setting sun. When she had gotten close enough for him to hear her movement through the air currents, he could pretend no longer and changed into his human form. She joined him upon the peak and changed as well. The thin air and extreme cold ensured they would not be able to stay like this for long.

Ventha's demeanour was serious as she said, "We have lost another one. You must return at once. This is getting out of hand."

His shoulders dropped involuntarily with his irritation but he managed to catch himself before rolling his eyes. "I doubt my returning will shed any more light on the situation," he replied coldly. "It isn't like there was any evidence with the first four."

Ventha glared at him as she evaluated his response. "Do you even care?" she asked.

"Of course, I do," he spat back at her. "These are my people."

Looking around at the cold, desolate surroundings, she said, "I doubt that."

Despite being in human form, he growled deeply. She would not back down.

"I am your equal, Gryp," she said. "It is time you remembered that. As you do not seem to care, I will handle the matter. I am sending a request for a meeting with the council. You do not have to trouble yourself in coming if it is that much bother." She turned to leave.

Uncharacteristically, he leapt out to grab her hand and faked a pleasant tone. "We do not need to do that yet. I will return with you and we will see if this latest disappearance has left any trace," he said.

The last thing he wanted was to be interrogated and brow beaten by the council. If they deemed him incompetent in some way for not having figured out what was going on sooner, he would not be surprised to find Avorlig added him to his campaign of persecuting of lesser thought.

"After that, I will still be sending for the council," she warned.

"We shall see," he replied.

Once they had returned home, the celebrations had long since ceased. Many of the Dragons were now snoring loudly, as was characteristic of their forms. However, one Dragon, who looked like a smaller version of Gryp but with a hint of green in his scales, was staggering amongst his brethren looking bemused. The human Ventha ran to him and placed her hands upon his sides, trying to get his attention.

"Lolan, where have you been?" she half-begged. "We were convinced you had disappeared like the others."

He looked down at her as if he had no idea what this thing at his side was. Through a blurry gaze, he tried to make out this strange being.

Gryp watched, intrigued. He had never seen one of the Thinkers behave this way. It was as though he were having trouble holding onto his own thought. Indeed, Gryp was convinced this was exactly what was happening as Lolan's form reared, his eyes becoming vacant for a moment, and let out a large roar that surprisingly did not wake the others. Then his eyes came back to him and he was once again straining to focus upon Ventha.

Finally, his large scaled form collapsed. His side heaved heavily with the slow rhythm of his breath.

Ventha was at his head now, her hands upon his large snout. "Lolan. Lolan!" she cried, trying to wake him.

Gryp, now too in human form, was using his hands to pry open Lolan's eyes, which appeared to be rolling back into his head. Using their newfound technique of detecting vibrations, Gryp attempted to determine what was the matter with him. He placed his hands flat upon Lolan's cheek and closed his eyes.

To Gryp's surprise, he did not find the vibration of Lolan's physical form, but his thought. The shock of this feat would have caused him to step back and break the connection if he had not been so compelled by what he saw.

Winged beings surrounding him. Some had taloned feet, others the bodies of lions and heads of humans. Some looked like mixtures of several animals at once, but all were winged and all looked as if they had been maimed. Yet they stood proudly, peering down upon Lolan.

"Who are these people?" Gryp wondered and in reply he heard Lolan's pale voice.

"They deemed me unworthy," he half-sobbed.

"Who deemed you unworthy?" Gryp pressed. "Why?"

His connection with Lolan broke as Lolan's body went limp, his last breath having left him. Ventha was screaming and crying as she clutched to the large snout of her friend.

The death of a Thinker's body had never been a sad event, but this time was different. The death was not like that of a Thinker but that of a Child. There was no sign that Lolan's thought was leaving to find rebirth. He was simply still. The finality of it changed the atmosphere around them. Gryp was in a paralyzed shock.

Ventha's continued shrieks and sobs were waking the others who were beginning to change form and surround Lolan's corpse in confusion. They turned to Gryp for explanation but he found he could give none.

These disappearances were abductions by beings that they had no idea existed. They not only appeared to have a reason but also were powerful enough to take away the immortality of the Thinkers. Thinkers could cease to exist!

Gryp felt as though his footing had become unbalanced and half-fell, half-lowered himself onto the ground, still staring at Lolan's body. He thought they should send for the council to warn them of this danger regardless of what Avorlig would choose to believe about his competence, but then stopped himself at the idea. These beings were powerful enough to destroy a Thinker, a being who could have once survived without flesh. There was nothing the council could do. They were no match for such an enemy. The sense of power Gryp had felt earlier that evening as he sat upon the mountain seemed so foolish now. He was a silly Child just like half the Dragons surrounding him at that moment. He watched as a few of them approached Lolan's body to confirm for themselves that he was in fact dead.

The helplessness that Gryp felt covered him like an uncomfortable mantel he could not remove. His skin crawled as thoughts of death swirled in his mind.

They were the playthings of some more powerful race. This was not how it was supposed to be. The Thinkers were the creators of true life in this universe. Nothing was above them... but now there was something above them and they were determining who was worthy. Worthy of what he did not know, but those who had not returned may have been given a better fate. As Gryp's mind continued to race, he decided he would have to learn what such judgements were for and how to prevent the same outcome as had been laid upon Lolan.

## Chapter 4

Shinga looked through the falling snow as she stood in the entrance of the deserted cave. When she saw no sign of movement, she returned to the warmth by the fire. She poked at the logs with a nearby stick. Looking over to the entrance of the council chamber briefly, she scowled.

It had been several months since the important meeting that had meant a jump in talents for the Wolves. After the council had left, Lapidus and Ashyina wasted no time in trying to teach everyone the methods by which they could more easily change not only their own shape but also those of other objects. Teleportation had still eluded them for the most part with the only success being a random jump of a few feet at a time.

Unfortunately for Shinga, as with the basics of changing her shape, these new methods proved equally problematic. The supposed vibration of which the others spoke confounded her perception. No matter how she tried, she could not find the very thing she was required to alter. The result had been an even greater gap emerging between her and the other Wolves.

Even Ashyina seemed more distant and more frustrated with her than she had before. The condescending tone that had begun to enter Ashyina's voice deflated Shinga's spirits further, resulting in the waning of her conviction to learn the new techniques.

The dynamics of Wolf society had changed tremendously since the rediscovery of these abilities and Shinga now felt she was no longer a Wolf as it had come to mean. She could not help but notice the looks she had begun to receive, especially from the Children, who regarded her more coolly than ever. On more than one occasion, she had passed a group of them who had whispered, not always entirely quietly, insults about her lack of thought and her animal form.

More and more often too she noticed Lapidus in foul moods whenever he returned from the coast. His visits with Avorlig were obviously increasingly difficult. The Hawk felt she had been given all possible means to changing her state. He was convinced she actually wanted to be an animal, that the animalistic way of being appealed to her more than thought.

With these developments tormenting her, it was only her rumbling stomach that wanted the others to return from their hunt. Otherwise, the torture within her mind was far more tolerable than the isolation she would feel when everyone had returned. Shinga thought back to Ashyina's eagerness to join this particular hunt and could not help but wonder if she too desired more distance from her lover.

It was nearly dark outside when the triumphant pack returned home, dragging the bodies of three deer behind them. Despite the weather, Lapidus had his chest bare with his robes tied at his waist. Though he could have altered the shape to suit his current sweating, he, like many of the others, had spent so many lifetimes wearing clothing external to himself that he often treated shifted clothing as if it were subject to the same limitations. Despite his jump in skill, he had kept his robes simple, only changing the colour to a subtle dark blue pattern of random shapes. Otherwise, his appearance gave no indication as to his transformation of the last several months.

Ashyina, on the other hand, had taken to making her outfits as elaborate as she desired, which only served to remind Shinga of how significantly she had failed. As she now walked by Lapidus, she wore a many-layered garment of dark purple and light blue with a white-fur lined hood, which was pulled up. She apparently was feeling the chill much more strongly than Lapidus. She was not the only cold one as several Children were bundled similarly.

Barjl was wearing a light, ragged shirt with his thicker brown robes tied in a similar fashion to Lapidus'. As always, he seemed thrilled with their success and appeared to be boasting about their efforts to anyone who could hear.

Shinga looked again at Ashyina, whose eyes were obscured by the shadow of her hood. Her heart skipped a rapid beat due to a mixture of anticipation and dread. For a moment, she wondered if she should hide in the council chamber and try to avoid Ashyina for the time being but her stomach gave another insistent growl.

Barjl was particularly happy to see that Shinga was in the cave, mostly because this served to provide him with an audience that had not already witnessed his tale. He flopped himself down next to her and put an arm around her, squeezing her shoulders gently as he did so.

"You should have seen it," he began. "We found an entire herd! We were just hoping for a stag but Lapidus had the great idea of using the vibrations in the air to find an animal and he found an entire herd!" He let out a satisfied breath and whispered, "Amazing."

Lapidus was helping Arken set up a spit on which to roast one of the flanks. They had left the other kills outside in the cold to prevent rotting so that they could be used over several weeks. Upon hearing Barjl's enthusiasm, Lapidus rolled his eyes but chuckled quietly. "You could have done it too if you'd thought of it," he muttered.

Barjl pointed at him firmly as he replied, "But you thought of it, not me. It probably wouldn't have occurred to me. Not to mention the fact that I swear the stag that got away from me was laughing at me. You were the better hunter today, brother." He turned his head and jutted his chin in Ashyina's direction as he said, "And her! I had no idea she could hunt like that. If I had known you could be so vicious, I would have started pestering you to go hunting with me centuries ago."

Ashyina said nothing as she appeared distracted with the task of shaking off the snow that had covered her hood and shoulders. Shinga regarded her warily, yet hopefully. Maybe Ashyina would show her the same kindness she had once known.

Her hope was quickly smothered, as Ashyina looked up at Lapidus and said, "I am going to inform the other Children that we will have food for them soon." She did not look at Shinga before leaving.

Shinga let out a disappointed sigh before turning back to the fire. Barjl gave a snort.

"Something's not right with that girl," he said.

"She's had to spend an entire day around you," Lapidus insulted without looking up from his task. He was changing the shape of a rock into a perfectly smooth knife he could use in butchering the deer they had chosen for that evening's meal. He contemplated the slightly curved surface for a moment before touching his finger to the end of the blade closest to the handle he had created. As he did so, the rock changed to create a small hooked shape in that location.

Barjl asked, "What is that for?"

Lapidus shrugged. "I thought it might help push the hide away from my hand as I cut it. It is always getting in the way," he explained.

Barjl gave an indistinct snort as he returned to the topic they had been discussing. "I still think something is wrong with Ashyina."

"She probably has a lot on her mind," Lapidus suggested as he began to work on the first of the deer's flanks.

They must have already drained it of its blood, as his cuts did not result in a massive red puddle upon the floor. Shinga watched on his hands as they worked because it was better than focusing upon their conversation. Yet, as hard as she might have tried, she could still hear Barjl's musings and could also tell when he examined her at Lapidus' words.

"I think she needs to relax a bit," Barjl added, not sounding nearly as jovial as he had before. "She has forgotten what is important."

It did not escape Shinga's notice that Lapidus gave a furtive glance in her direction but he continued with his butchering task. "Perhaps, given how things have changed, she is simply unsure what to do," he said.

Barjl was completely serious now, "Love is not that complicated. People are very complicated but love is quite simple. You don't treat people you love that way." He was sounding more agitated now and he was having trouble sitting still.

Shinga felt tears stinging her eyes but she was determined not to cry in front of the others. She sat stonily next to Barjl, who gave her shoulders another affectionate squeeze.

Lapidus had paused at Barjl's comment, pulled one knee up in his crouched position, and was resting his arm upon it as he stared forward. "Not everything is your business, Barjl," he said calmly. "Maybe we should stop discussing this before we upset Shinga further. She isn't an idiot."

It seemed that Barjl had taken too much. "Of course I know that," he seethed. "I am probably one of the last Thinkers to truly understand that, as the rest of you seem to have decided she is some kind of animal. You people need to remember she is one of us!"

Lapidus glared. Shinga wished the two of them would stop fighting so that she could return to the uncomfortable silence but Lapidus was not about to submit to Barjl.

He growled, "I remember very well who she is and I feel for her struggles but I also know that the situation between two lovers is none of my business. You have no right to judge Ashyina."

"You have no right to let her get away with such behaviour," Barjl barked back. He got to his feet and as he did so he leaned into Shinga's ear and whispered, "You deserve much better." He left the cave.

Shinga, who had been sitting with her knees pulled into her chest, pressed her fingers so hard into her knees that they were white. Her entire body was tense. She wanted it all to go away. She wanted it to be over. Life wasn't worth it. She gave an involuntary shudder as she knew that not even killing herself would bring relief. It never did.

"I am sorry about Barjl," Lapidus said kindly. "He should not be interfering in your matters."

She did not reply, only pressed her fingers more firmly against her knees as she forced her watery gaze to remain focused upon the fire.

"She does still love you," he whispered. "She is under so much pressure and just... doesn't know what to do."

When Shinga still did not respond, he returned to his task of preparing the meat of his kill.

Many bitter retorts swirled in her mind. Shinga was under intense pressure as well. In fact, she thought bitterly, she was under more pressure, as Ashyina would not be exiled from her own society if Shinga could not master her transformation. Ashyina was being selfish and cruel. There was no other way of looking at it.

* * *

"I cannot believe you are refusing to tell the council about what happened. It has been months and you are stubbornly refusing to admit that you may not know everything! Our people are at stake, Gryp. This isn't just a matter of your ego!" Ventha was in a rage.

They were standing in the large domed structure that the Dragons had formed to protect them from the elements. It was partially sunken into the earth near the base of a volcano so that it remained warm inside.

It was the middle of a beautiful day, the first of many given the rainy season, and all the other Dragons had decided to take advantage of the nice weather. Gryp and Ventha had remained behind to discuss Lolan's death and the other previous disappearances for yet another countless time.

There had been no new abductions since Lolan died but Ventha was still seething that Gryp did not want to inform the council. They now stood fighting in the hall; both simply dressed, as their minds were on their argument.

"We do not know what is going on," he stated calmly. "We do not have much to tell them and, given the reputation our race has developed for our particular type of celebration, I doubt they would understand the severity of the situation without more information."

"We are not talking about sending one of the Children to tell them," Ventha shot back as she crossed her arms. "If we tell them, they will understand. They will know it isn't simply a matter of some of our kind getting lost in the daze of a good-natured battle. They will know there is a problem."

"And then what?" Gryp asked, forcing his tone to remain even. "It is not likely they would be able to discern any more than we have. It is a waste of time. We would do better to spend our time trying to figure this out ourselves."

Ventha's jaw hardened and a vein in her temple became more prominent. "You refuse to admit that you may not be the smartest of the Thinkers. That some answers may elude you as well."

"That's not it," he yelled back at her. "You don't understand how serious this situation is!"

"Enlighten me," she requested with and even tone, "If you are so wise to know."

He took a deep steadying breath. "I don't, but that is precisely my point. We do not know what we are dealing with. Informing the council may prove to be a dangerous move."

She eyed him warily, apparently seeing for the first time that he may know more than he had shared. "What happened when Lolan died?" she asked, her lips tense and her eyes narrowed.

A guilty expression flashed on his face for only a moment before he regained his control and calmly replied, "Nothing."

"I don't believe you," she said in the same even tone. "Something happened when Lolan died."

"Your thought has run away with you. You are imagining things," he riposted.

Raising an eyebrow, she replied, "We shall see, Gryp. I will find out what you are hiding." She walked determinedly from the hall. He scowled after her.

He considered the matter after she was gone. He did not know any more than what he had seen in Lolan's mind and since that event, he had had nothing but nightmares of being surrounded by the strange company, looking down upon him disapprovingly. Given the lack of information, he was unsure about telling anyone about what he had seen. It was unclear at this point if his survival would be better served by his openness or silence.

He had been spending as much time as he could wandering alone. His hope was to attract the attention of the strange beings and, upon learning what it was they wanted, attempt to come to a beneficial arrangement. He did not know if such a thing were even possible, as their easy elimination of Lolan proved they had the upper hand.

However, this had not prevented his solitary walks or even him calling out to the strange beings, requesting their presence. For whatever reason, they had not answered. At the same time, he felt sure that they could hear him. It was becoming clearer to him that if he had any hope of learning more about them, he would simply have to wait for another of his kind to be abducted.

With this thought, he left the hall in search of any Dragons who may have wandered off alone.

* * *

Kiran sat upon a small knoll and watched lazily as Ferra attempted to teach some of the Children how to teleport. She had proven as skilled at the task as Gringa. It had only taken her a few weeks to learn how to move a few feet to realizing that distance was no limitation. She could now go anywhere she liked.

Despite this skill, she spent most of her time remaining with the other Cats. She had explained to Kiran that it was not nearly as interesting exploring the universe alone and that she was content to wait for the others to learn as well. He had not yet made that mental leap of ignoring distance.

As he watched Ferra, in her dark red robes, place a loving arm around one of the younger Children as she explained what the girl needed to do, his mind wandered back to the strange events of the morning after the meeting.

When he had awoken, the peculiar items had vanished. There was no sign that he had ever placed them upon the ground. Not wishing to worry Ferra any further, as she was already quite bothered by the previous disappearances amongst their people, he decided to keep the information to himself. It was always possible it had only been a dream... a very vivid dream.

Since they had returned home, Ferra's insistence that he contact the council about the disappearance began to wane. They had not seen anyone new disappear who was not already trying to teleport and even they always returned with their memories intact. For now, those who had not returned had become a mystery, explained away by most as probably a coincidental series of accidents. Ferra had even begun to argue that maybe the Thinkers who had disappeared had simply died somehow and they had yet to identify their rebirth.

As the sun began to set upon the lesson, Kiran stood and stretched out his stiffened limbs before transforming into a lion. He walked to the nearby river for a drink. He had to pass the gathering of Children around Ferra on his way and as he did so, she called out playfully, "You could use some practice too!"

He growled in reply to which she laughed before returning to her instruction.

Once at the river, he gently lowered his head to the water and began to lap up the cool liquid. It refreshed him and he felt his body relaxing as he drank, but then he paused, sensing a sinister movement. He leapt back just in time to avoid the jaws of a crocodile. The large reptile was undeterred by his evasion and lunged for him again. It was fervent in its attempt to have him as its dinner. He dodged its repeated attacks and managed to throw himself onto the creature's back. He closed his jaw powerfully upon the crocodile's neck.

The animal thrashed and snapped as it attempted to fight back. It managed to send the two of them rolling but Kiran maintained his grip and got them back in the previous position of him straddling the crocodile's back. He kept his powerful jaw closed as tightly as he could and pushed his weight down upon the creature's body. Slowly, the thrashing and snapping became slower and less powerful. After only another minute, the crocodile went limp, having suffocated from Kiran's efforts.

He did not get off the body immediately as realization and relief began to sweep over him. Then, slowly, he pushed himself up and collapsed onto the beach, breathing heavily. Although crocodiles had managed to attack and even successfully kill some of his kind before, he personally had never had such an encounter. His taste for water, he thought, would probably never come back to him.

Grudgingly, he stood and left the dead crocodile for the scavengers as he decided he would return to his knoll to watch the remainder of Ferra's lesson.

That evening, the others sat happily by an open-air fire, chatting casually. He sat against a rock and contemplated the flames. They danced so beautifully and rhythmically as they lulled him into a relaxed stupor. His focus became blurred as his eyes involuntarily drooped. Just as he was on the cusp of sleep, a quiet, seductive whisper in his ear jolted him awake.

"Come," the woman's voice had said.

He looked around. No one else had noticed and there was no one near him. He heard it again; the same breathy "Come," from a disembodied voice. Standing, he listened for it again. The voice indulged him as it called a third time, prompting him to follow the direction from which it came. It led him away from the fire.

He noticed Ferra give him a concerned look but he returned a smile. Slowly and deliberately, he followed the voice that led him far from his companions. He passed the knoll upon which he had sat earlier in the day.

His heartbeat began to beat faster the longer he followed the voice. The thought had occurred that he was voluntarily following the same fate as the others who had disappeared. He did not feel entirely convinced of this.

There was something about this adventure that felt familiar, like that night the woman had led him into the forest. Despite having no evidence to support such a feeling, he trusted her and knew he would not go missing this night.

He had been led to an area with gentle slopes leading to a watering hole. Looking around, he saw nothing at first. The voice no longer beckoned and he felt very much alone. He was just about to shape shift to return home when she appeared next to a tree before him. She did not look like the woman he had seen before but he knew it was she.

Her skin was as pale and creamy in appearance as before and her hair was the golden blond of which he remembered but her eyes were no longer totally white. Her irises were a vibrant purple. Her muscular body no longer appeared fully human. Her feet were large, rough talons. She had a long tail that looked like a snake and the hint of scales upon her throat. Behind her, framing her form in the darkness were two large wings. They looked as though they would have been covered in the softest feathers in normal conditions but there were so many rough, bald patches from scarring that they now appeared leathery.

The rest of her body was not spared these signs of injury. Not far under her left eye, there was a long gash. Her forearms were covered with equally deep wounds as were her calves and shins. Yet, the rest of her body, aside from the odd red mark, like one particularly long one on her ribs under her right breast, was completely flawless.

In her right hand, she held the same disk she had led him to that night months ago. In her other, she held the long spear.

She was wholly grotesque and entirely beautiful at the same time. Her abused form spoke of a power he would never wish to cross. Yet, the unmarred features he could see were seductively elegant. None of his kind had ever managed such a complex combination of features.

To his surprise, she smiled warmly at him as he examined her.

"Perhaps it would be easier if I looked more like the woman you had seen before," she offered.

"No, no, no," he replied quickly. "I have simply never seen anyone like you before. What are you?"

She smiled as though she found this a quaint question but did not want to offend him. For his part, he was not offended in the slightest.

"I have come to warn you," she said without answering his question. "I would be destroyed by the others if they knew I did this. I have gone against our most sacred law by coming here."

Despite her cryptic replies, he could not find it in himself to be frustrated with her. He waited patiently for her to explain and knew he wouldn't even care if she could not, yet he had no idea why. In any other situation, such vague responses would have driven him mad. It was one reason Akym annoyed him so much. He always gave riddles before explanations.

"They have begun to test you," she continued quietly. "Do not let them."

Somehow, he knew. "The crocodile was sent by them?"

"Guided would be a better word," she replied pragmatically.

He felt angry but not at her explanation, at the fact that he had almost been killed due to the whim of some unseen adversary. "Why?" he demanded slightly more forcefully than he had intended.

She smiled again, "All your kind showing potential are to be tested. They must be deemed worthy."

"Worthy for what? I do not understand," he said as his mind raced with possibilities, each more absurd than the next.

"Your kind does not belong here. You have trespassed upon a universe created for us," she explained.

He considered her words for many moments. "We had no choice in the matter. We were pulled here. We had no idea there was anyone here."

"Unfortunately," she replied, "That is not how my people see it. You have trespassed and brought thought where there was intended to be none. A price must be paid and only recently have They decided what to do with you."

With an attempt at clarification, he asked, "Your kind?"

"Our masters," she explained. "Do not let them test you. No good will come of it."

"How do I do that?" he asked, thoroughly confused.

She looked down at the disk in her palm and held it out, "So long as you have it, they will not come. Giving it to you allowed me to find your energy more easily but I was forced to take it back before I had intended."

With both hands, he took the disk and looked upon its symbols of concentric circles and random lines. "What does this mean?" he asked as his finger traced the symbol.

Her smile became very broad. "It is the crest of my kind. It is my crest. I am Tryailla Lilith."

* * *

Avorlig looked out over the vast canyons before him. Scowling, he realized he had quite a ways to go in refining his technique. He had teleported to a deserted planet he had once remembered seeing before he had taken a body of flesh. Unfortunately, he had teleported to the uninhabitable sulphur canyons in the eastern hemisphere rather than the forested mountains of the west.

Closing his eyes and breathing deeply and rhythmically, he calmed himself enough to focus again. When he opened his eyes, he was still upon a large rock overlooking the land far below him but now they were lush valleys with numerous streams.

Pleased with himself, he sat down to enjoy the view. In many ways, this planet was not unlike the one his people currently inhabited. However, it had a very important benefit: no one else to bother him.

He had begun to tire of Lapidus' visits. Their usual thoughtful debates had descended into cyclical arguments that neither of them enjoyed anymore. He was convinced that Lapidus would have dropped his efforts entirely if he did not have a misplaced sense of loyalty to Ashyina and Shinga. Although Lapidus had spent many years trying to convince him of Shinga's worth, his arguments were becoming less convincing. As this happened, Lapidus' style of debate had become more fervent and belligerent.

Luckily for Avorlig, Lapidus' visits were highly predictable as he always visited at the same times during the moon cycle. When he had emerged from his hut to see the last quarter of the moon hanging in the sky, he immediately knew it would be a good time to practice his teleportation.

Just as with his original shape shifting abilities, the overall talent came easily to him and it had only been a few weeks when he had accomplished his first jump. Since then, he regularly enjoyed the practice as he knew none could follow. Even if they could teleport, which was still a rare talent amongst the Thinkers, they would not know where he had gone. Such knowledge was greatly comforting.

He considered the possibility of one day leaving his people altogether. Shaking his head as though it had become clogged, he scolded himself. Such individuality was not the trait of a Thinker. He would have to keep an eye on his hermitic tendencies.

His mind turned back to his own people and specifically to Shinga. From Lapidus' words, he had begun to suspect that even the Wolves were tiring of her. Perhaps his task of having her deemed an unthinker would be easier than he had expected. As the emergence of the new techniques was still so new, he doubted he would succeed in an accusation against her at the present time but, come the summer, he would visit to evaluate her himself. If she had not progressed any further, he would force the council to make a decision whether Ashyina liked it or not.

## Chapter 5

Ashyina was thankful the winter had been short. She did not mind the cold or the snow but it prevented most of the Wolves from venturing from the caves for very long. This had resulted in several uncomfortable months of being confined with Shinga, who had become increasingly withdrawn.

As Shinga's stubborn self-pity had grown, Ashyina found it more and more difficult to look at her former lover. It only reminded her painfully of what once had been.

When she learned that morning from Lapidus that Shinga had left to enjoy the pleasant weather, she had initially felt relieved at the break it would give her. Unfortunately, she had instead spent the morning staring vacantly at the untended remnants of the night's fire as the recent past continued to haunt her thoughts. It was not until Lapidus had returned to the cave at midday for a short rest out of the sun, that her cyclical torment was interrupted.

"You should be outside like everyone else," he suggested. "Your skin is starting to look a little grey."

She shot him a half-hearted glare.

"I'm guessing," he continued to say, "That you are thinking about Shinga as always."

She did not respond.

He gave a tired sigh before saying, "You two are so determined to avoid each other that you have managed not to speak despite an entire winter of being packed in this cave. Why can't you just talk to each other?"

"And what should I say?" Ashyina burst angrily. "That I am disappointed in her? That I feel like she is refusing to listen? That I feel like she is just doing this to..." she trailed off as she did not want to admit aloud the last thought she had been feeling but Lapidus refused to let it go.

"That she is doing what?" he asked, sounding slightly exasperated. When she didn't immediately respond, he yelled, "You have to deal with this Ashyina whether you want to or not. Avorlig had told me he would come to visit in the spring and it is upon us. He may show up any day. If you refuse to deal with the issue, he will no doubt deal with it for you. Is that what you want? Shinga exiled for no legitimate reason?"

For many moments, Ashyina still did not speak as she was too busy dealing with her own inner turmoil. If Shinga weren't around, she wouldn't have to face the truth. She shook her head to clear the illogical thought.

"Perhaps Barjl is right," Lapidus muttered as he eyed her disdainfully.

His judging gaze was too much for her. She couldn't have everyone think her the villain. She wasn't the one causing the problem. Standing, she lashed out at him, "None of you understand. I know what Avorlig wants and I want more than anyone to prove him wrong. But I am sick of people thinking I am the only one who has to do anything to prove that."

Lapidus' eyes darkened. "Have you forgotten who you are talking to?" he said in a low warning tone. "I have made more effort than either you or Shinga to resolve this situation."

As she realized the stupidity of what she said, she gasped slightly. "I didn't mean you," she pleaded. She gave a venting scream and threw her arms in the air as she said, "I'm just so frustrated with her. She is the one who will suffer most and she seems to be trying the least to remedy the situation. She wants me to defend her. I am convinced she is doing this just to see if I will prove my love for her, defending her before the council over and over again. The less she tries, the less I have to use in her defence. Soon, it won't matter what I think or feel. I will be overruled. We have been able to watch her all winter and have you once seen her make any efforts? I haven't."

Lapidus, in a much calmer voice, replied, "She must have. If you have bothered to look at her, you would have noticed her ears are human ears now. They may still have some fur on them but she is getting closer. That is the first jump she has made in quite some time. It may be small but she obviously needs more patience than the rest of us."

Ashyina gave an indignant snort. "The rest of us have actually taken it seriously," she muttered. "She doesn't even care about what we have created. She ignores the Children entirely. She becomes more embittered if they outperform her. There is no joy in her heart for what we have created. How can she not care?"

"I'm not sure either of us knows exactly what Shinga thinks about this," he explained. "Perhaps she doesn't care and isn't trying or perhaps she is serious when she says she has and is only hurt to see others find the same ends so easily. I cannot determine that. If we could share our minds again, this would not be a problem but we cannot so we also cannot assume she has given up. Talk to her." He was pleading now. "You love each other, no matter how much you may try to deny it or find excuses to ignore it."

With tears in her eyes, Ashyina looked at him. "What if Avorlig is right?" She whispered.

His jaw slackened for a moment as his eyes popped wide. "How could you say that?"

Pulling herself up straighter, she steadied herself as she replied, "I don't. I just wanted to know what you would say." It took most of her concentration to appear calm and not betray what she was attempting to hide from him.

He walked forward to put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "We will all get through this, even Shinga, and you two can go back to your carefree days. Talk to Shinga. It will help," he said.

He looked out the cave mouth at the sunshine upon the fields before saying, "I think I will go to the watering hole for some water."

After he had left, Ashyina turned her back to the opening and stared, at nothing in particular. Then, looking at the doorway leading to the council chamber, she decided to seek temporary refuge within it. She traversed the familiar path slowly and numbly. Her thoughts no longer tormented her. They had become frozen, lacking all feeling and emotion. As she neared the entrance, she placed her fingers upon the cool stone and allowed her brain to indulge in focusing on the variations upon the stone as she felt them through her fingertips. Turning the corner into the chamber itself, she stopped and regarded the walls of the chamber meditatively.

As many of the Wolves had hidden within it during the coldest of the winter days, there were now blackened handprints and rough drawings upon the walls. They had been made with charcoal during the long days of boredom.

Her eyes fell upon the drawing she knew Barjl had done after seeing her attack that deer. He had drawn the animal and a large stick figure with wild hair next to it. It had been their most successful hunt of the winter. Lapidus had used his abilities to see to that.

Walking along the outer walls, she looked at all the different sketches that she had not before bothered to notice. So many were similar to Barjl's animals and stick figures alike but one caused her to take pause. She did not recognize the artist's style; in fact, she did not recognize the image at all. It was a tiny drawing, no larger than a third of her palm at most. Three concentric circles and several random lines within it. As she knelt to look closer, a voice echoed in the hall.

"Hello, Ashyina," the craggy voice said. Ashyina turned to see Avorlig standing at the doorway, a staff in his hand with its base resting upon the floor next to his foot.

"Lapidus informed me you might be visiting us," she replied coolly without greeting.

"Indeed, I have," he said as he walked into the room. "I have spent some of my morning with Shinga," he explained significantly. "I do not think she enjoyed my company."

Ashyina consciously avoided rolling her eyes as she said, "I am not sure why that would be. Perhaps she feels you do not care for her much."

Avorlig appeared sincerely affronted as he took a step back and his free hand flew to his chest. "Of course I care for her," he defended. "I care for all Thinkers and would not have taken such an interest in her if I did not. Her struggles reflect the degradation of our kind."

"Her struggles have no bearing upon you, Avorlig," Ashyina said hotly. "No matter how significant her problems are for her, you will always retain your own abilities. It is one of the advantages of these limited forms."

"You misunderstand my meaning," he replied. "I do not believe her lack of ability to be contagious like a disease. I believe any lagging of development, no matter how few the numbers of people, weakens us as a whole. When others realize that she is cared for and survives comfortably with minimal effort due to the work of those who have surpassed her, then what motivation is there to improve? Soon we could have large numbers of Children refusing to evolve, relying upon the rest of us to ensure their good lives. We have already seen the beginnings of social problems amongst the Dragons due to the emerging violent tendencies of the young. If we let these kinds of things mature unchecked, we could have a crisis on our hands. Even worse, out of shear laziness, all our efforts could be undone as those like Shinga lead the way in returning this universe back to a land without thought. Do you really want all of our work and our creation to end that way, Ashyina? I thought you had more pride than that."

"Of course I do," she spat. "I care for the Children and what we have done more than anyone. I am the one who started this, Avorlig. I am the one who knew that only thought could bring true life! I am the one who created these Children from my thought. No one else can ever question my loyalty to this; to our growth."

"Then you must also see," he continued, "That anything that threatens that must be dealt with accordingly. I appreciate what Shinga once was. I honour that. But you must accept that she is no longer the Shinga we once knew."

His words were echoing her own fears and amplifying her own jilted grief. Of course they had grown apart; the Shinga she had loved had been devoured. She no longer lived amongst them. With one last effort at hope, she looked in Avorlig's eyes and said, "But I cannot turn my back on her if there is a chance she is still a Thinker. I cannot throw her into the world of animals alone if she is not truly of them.

A sly smile spread across Avorlig's face. "I have an idea of how to deal with that," he said.

"What do you mean?" she asked cautiously.

"A being of thought would be able to determine how best to defend themselves when necessary," he reasoned. "An animal would thrash and flail but not logically retaliate to escape. We have seen it ourselves, have we not?"

"Yes..." she said slowly, not entirely comfortable with his new line of thought.

"If Shinga were to be put in a threatening situation, how she reacted would show us if she remains a Thinker or an animal," he said simply.

"What are you suggesting? That we try to kill her and see if she survives?" Ashyina asked, shocked. Knowing that death was normal and Thinkers could be reborn had not changed the fact that murder was simply not done.

With a dismissive wave of his hand, Avorlig said, "No, no. Nothing like that. She only needs to perceive it as a threatening situation. She would be in no real danger. If she performs admirably, then we will know exactly what the situation is regardless of her lack of talents and the matter will be settled. I will never speak of it again."

His offer seemed altogether ludicrous and entirely tempting at the same time. She did not want to harm Shinga this way and part of her feared the results. At the same time, a small episode of fear could bring significant benefits for Shinga and could enrich her life. She looked at Avorlig tentatively. "You swear that she will not be harmed?" She asked.

"I swear," he replied.

"What are you going to do?"

"I will simply ask some of the Children to chase her down acting as though they are hunting her but instructing them not to do so," he explained. "How she reacts will tell us what the state of her being really is."

"Our kind has never attacked each other before. She won't believe it," Ashyina said incredulously.

He gave a mirthless chuckle. "My meeting with her today demonstrated to me that she does not trust the Children in the slightest. She would believe anything if it were one of them."

"And no one will be hurt?" she asked again.

"No one," he replied.

Clenching every muscle in her body, she relented. "Carry out your plan then and I will finally be able to show you how much of an old fool you are."

* * *

Gryp spit the dirt from his mouth as he pushed his aching form up from the wet earth. Grumbling, he pulled himself to his feet and began to brush the dirt from his clothes. He looked up at the sky and shouted an expletive at his departed anathemas.

In the preceding months, he had managed to learn that one of the Dragon Thinkers, a petite female named Athess, had been abducted on more than one occasion. Given the unique circumstances of the appearance of these strange beings, he had kept it secret that he could get glimpses of thoughts from other Thinkers. He did not even know how he was managing it as it seemed to come to him unwillingly and without warning.

It had served his advantage on that particular occasion when he learned from Athess' thoughts that she had been having blackouts. Unlike many of the known disappearances, she had not been gone long enough for others to notice and this characteristic had led even her to believe that she was simply suffering from a faulty memory. While she was worried about what this could possibly mean, she had not dared to share the information with anyone for fear of seeming silly and irrational.

As a result, Gryp had begun to keep a close eye upon her, making sure that he could always see her no matter where she went. This was sometimes difficult as Ventha had not ceased pestering him about informing the council. As there were no more abductions that she had known about, he was able to keep her somewhat placated, although it was becoming increasingly difficult.

Finally, one night, Athess strolled alone in her deep-green Dragon form and he was able to follow. After walking for some time, he saw one of the strange beings guiding her through the trees. It was no doubt one of the many he had seen before in Lolan's memory. This particular individual looked mostly like a giant wolf with large feathery wings. His strangest feature, however, was that he appeared to be made entirely of stone. Flakes appeared to chip off his wings and body as he moved and yet there were no scars from where they fell. There was no sound in his movements either, adding to the spectral feeling of the scene he witnessed.

Slowly, he followed the pair deeper into the woods. As he did so, he noticed that Athess appeared entirely transfixed by her guide. When he managed to get a good look at her, he noticed her eyes were blank and cloudy. Eventually, the wolf came to the end of his path and turned to face her once more before vanishing.

She was in the centre of a clearing bordered by fiver large trees. Once he had done so, Athess's body began to rise into the air and hover above the ground. Gryp could sense in the ground beneath him a deep vibration too low for his human ears to detect as he watched her body begin to glow. The intensity of the light increased. It was at this moment that Gryp abandoned all sense, ran forward, reverted as fast as he was able and used his powerful hind legs to jump as he reached out to grab onto her.

As her form became enveloped in blinding light, he felt his own being begin to vibrate strangely. As the frequency of it increased rapidly, he looked down to see that, like a contagion, he too was now bathed in the illumination. Partly out of fear, he closed his eyes, thinking he may not want to see what was going to happen after all.

When he felt every pore of his being vibrating faster than anything he had before experienced, he heard booming voices. It felt more like he heard them talking inside his own brain than with the physical mechanism of his ear. Opening his eyes tentatively, he looked up to see that he was no longer clutching Athess. He was alone and crouched before three of the large alien beings.

One looked much more human than the other two. He was an overly muscular, broad shouldered man with long blond hair that fell over his shoulders. His eyes had no irises. He had white fur that covered his shoulders and down the sides of his chest and stomach in two strips so that it looked like he was wearing a vest. From the waist down his limbs were black.

There was something about this strange place that made it difficult for Gryp to see clearly. Everything had an unnatural glow that caused it to look fuzzy. Therefore, he was not entire sure why this individual's lower limbs were black but he did notice that his lower legs and feet were not those of a human but of a goat. The man's large hands were hanging freely at his sides but two large, feathery wings coming out of his back were twitching gracefully, showing his agitation.

The being in the middle looked like a cobra except for several significant differences. It had small gossamer wings protruding from the sides of its neck. As its body extended downwards, it changed seamlessly into that of an eagle so that it had a feathery underbelly, long tail feathers, and powerful talons.

The third looked like he was half bull and half-human. His arms looked like the darkly tanned, muscular arms of any human, but his head was fully that of a bull's. His legs looked mostly human except for the hoofs upon which he stood instead of feet. In his hands, he held two items in front of his body defensively. One item was a small circular disk with three concentric circles around a series of lines that had been carved into it. There were three vertical lines with one diagonal line placed haphazardly along the bottom of the other three. The other item was a long staff with an octahedron upper end that had a chunk missing. Like the first of his comrades, he too had large feathery wings protruding from his back but his had a few featherless patches where there were large scars. His wings were stiller than the other's but every now and then, they gave a great jolt or a shudder.

It was obvious that none of the three were pleased to see Gryp's intrusion.

"We did not want you. Why are you here?" None of their mouths moved and Gryp was unsure if it was all of them speaking at once or if it was only one who was scolding him.

He attempted to speak but before he could vocalise the words, the trio had already determined what they wanted to know.

"We have not been instructed to test you and we do not care to," they explained. "Never attempt to come here again. Tell no one of what you have seen or we will destroy you. You are lucky we have not already been instructed to do so."

Gryp had just begun to protest by saying, "But I can be useful to you," when the large bull lifted his staff and swung it down hard to deliver a blow across Gryp's head. The pain was excruciating and his brain could perceive nothing else.

He was unable to see how they had returned him to the forest or to feel the difference in the vibration of his being. All he did know was that when he was finally able to open his eyes to see, he was lying face down upon the moist earth, his front aching as though he had been thrown there.

Therefore, it was not without justification that he now cursed at the sky, hoping they would hear him. He felt his head to see if the blow had broken his skin but there was no blood. He suspected there was no visible sign of the attack at all but it still ached excruciatingly like a severe migraine.

As he calmed and the effects of the episode upon his body and his mind began to subside, he noticed that it was almost dawn despite the apparent shortness of his encounter. He noted this information for later and wandered, not entirely sure-footed, back to the Dragons' hall.

He had confirmed the disappearances and the worthiness that Lolan had mentioned in his death throws were part of some kind of test. What that test was for or how it would manifest itself, he had no clue. However, it was not this that concerned him, though he did hope to learn how one proved their worth. It was their mention of having been instructed. This implied beings even more powerful than the beasts, who could take his people at a whim.

His mind circled as he wondered if it was the abductors who had the power to remove the Thinker's immortality or their superiors who did the deed. At this point, he was not even sure if it really mattered. All that he did know was that he was not going to provoke them further by telling anyone what was going on, no matter how much Ventha pleaded for him to do something.

* * *

Groaning, Lapidus rolled over onto his back and stared at the morning sky. He had taken to sleeping in the forests during the warmer weather as an attempt to recreate the events of his previous disappearance. Despite it having been only a few moons short of a year since that event, it had not happened again.

As he stared at the pale blue blanket above him, he exhaustedly recalled the ever-repeating dream of the woman looking down upon him. In frustration, he rubbed his face with his hand to help clear his mind and pulled himself up to return to the caves.

The spring had wasted no time in transitioning to summer and even the mornings were quite warm. As he worked his way back to the main cave, he waved a hello at Arken who was hurrying in the direction from which Lapidus had just come.

"What is going on that you're in such a rush?" Lapidus called out.

Arken shrugged and slowed without stopping as he yelled back, "I'm just meeting with some friends."

"Have fun," Lapidus replied before continuing on his way.

As he neared the caves, he began to feel quite content as the torturous dreams were already fading away. Breathing in deeply, he concluded that it really was a nice day. Upon entering the main cave, however, he had determined that not everyone shared this assessment.

Barjl was staring at the dying fire, completely in his own thoughts.

"Miraja pregnant again?" Lapidus teased to get his attention.

Barjl jumped and looked at him for a moment as if he did not recognize him, "Sorry?"

"Is it another girl you've slept with then?" he asked, not giving up on his original line of insult.

"No girls," Barjl muttered and then paused, seemingly thinking about what he had just said before adding, "Well, not any of mine anyway."

Lapidus was confused. "What's going on?"

"Ashyina is up to something. She isn't acting ...," he paused and eyed Lapidus as he seemed to realize to whom he was talking. "Never mind," he added. "She's your friend. It is none of my business."

"Alright. Now I know something is really wrong," Lapidus said. "The Barjl I know thinks everything is his business. Friend or not, what is she doing?"

"I don't know," Barjl replied with concern. "That is the problem. Yesterday, when you left the cave, I was lying in the trees. I had heard a bit of your argument with Ashyina. At least the part when you were yelling at each other. I figured it was best to stay hidden as Ashyina has had less and less patience with me ever since she realized I have been siding with Shinga. For a long time, I didn't hear anything at all. Then, I heard Avorlig's voice. They were saying good-bye and she was asking him for reassurance that he would do what they agreed. He said it would be done within a moon."

Lapidus said nothing as he mulled over in his mind what could possibly be going on between Ashyina and Avorlig. "She hates Avorlig," Lapidus reasoned aloud. "She would never agree with him on anything and he would never do someone else's bidding."

Barjl straightened up and gestured with his hand as though Lapidus had stated the obvious. "And now you see why I am so confused," he said.

In an awkwardly coincidental moment, Ashyina came around the corner and into the cave. Lapidus and Barjl stared at her but she was looking down at some twigs she was holding, trying to snap one of them in two. She had apparently not heard their conversation and when she looked up at the pair, she asked "What?"

Lapidus asked bluntly, "What are you and Avorlig up to?"

Barjl glared at him.

Ashyina's eyes widened. "What do you mean?" she asked casually and she moved to sit on a nearby rock.

Lapidus shrugged as he said, "Barjl saw you two talking at the cave mouth about some plan you had."

"Plan?" she laughed, "I would hardly call it a plan."

"What is 'it'?" Barjl asked and Lapidus could tell he was still suspicious.

"We talked about what indicates the presence of thought," she explained.

"And?" probed Barjl.

She gave him a dirty look before saying slowly, "And, we discussed this in terms of Shinga and how he should proceed with her."

Lapidus leaned forward. "He is actually considering your point of view for a change?" he asked.

She thought for a moment before replying, "I suppose you could say that. Much still remains to be seen though. Don't assume this will turn out well, Lapidus."

His shoulders dropped. "That's true. This is Avorlig we are talking about. How did you ever convince him to come that far?" he asked, truly interested in how she mastered a feat he had been unable to accomplish in years of repeated visits and brow beatings.

"I'm not sure I have," she admitted, "But he seemed to be more amenable when I approached him as if we do not know either way and must consider all the options. He was much more open to talk after that."

The colour drained from Lapidus' face and gave a quick glance to Barjl whose face was stony and unreadable. "You didn't," Lapidus whispered. "Are you really turning your back on her?"

"Of course not," Ashyina replied but even Lapidus noticed she did not sound entirely convinced herself. She continued, "I needed to make Avorlig more willing to listen to me. I was doing it to get him closer to my point of view not because I am closer to his."

Lapidus regarded her for a few moments before responding, "So long as you can keep things straight yourself."

"Thank you for your confidence," she muttered.

Barjl stood and made a larger than necessary display in saying he was leaving to find Arken. Lapidus was too distracted by Ashyina's words to mention that Arken was at the forest pond until Barjl had already left. He shrugged at the realization that Barjl might not really care where Arken had gone and was just trying to escape the now heavy atmosphere within the cave.

Lapidus looked at Ashyina seriously and said, "Avorlig cannot be trusted. He is too fanatical about his beliefs."

She shrugged, "We shall have to see."

As her desire for discussing the issue seemed to have disappeared, Lapidus stood and walked out of the cave. He stopped not far outside the entrance, taking a deep, cleansing breath as he closed his eyes. Hearing voices, he opened them and looked to the forest edge where he saw Arken and several other young men emerging, all looking very serious.

"Everything alright?" he called to them. They seemed startled by his presence and Arken waved back as if to indicate there was nothing wrong but his face remained tense. Resigned, Lapidus decided to take a walk and left Ashyina and the young men behind.

* * *

Akym held the two oddly shaped stones together at their base, closing his eyes and involuntarily grimacing at some possible adverse reaction. When nothing happened, he opened one eye slowly and felt both frustration and disappointment. His shoulders sagged with his mood. He dropped his hands, which were still clutching one stone in each, and stared at the small light in the distance he knew to be the central fire.

In the last several months, there had not been much happening in any respect. The growth of abilities amongst the Monkeys had appeared to stall. Even more annoyingly, there had been no further developments with the strange stone.

His frustration had nearly reached a boiling point when Gringa of all people presented him with another one of the stones. It was identical to the first except for one minor difference. This particular one, he had noticed as she had given it to him, had given a hint of yellow before turning grey as he took it from her hand. She claimed she had stumbled upon it quite by accident and, knowing how obsessed he was with the first, thought he may want to see it. Despite this, she still seemed to think he had lost his mind.

She had only given him the stone that evening and immediately afterwards he began to examine the pair of stones. He had chosen to ignore his cave for the time being as the air within felt too stifling with his current level of excitement. Instead he remained just far enough from the central fire not to be noticed easily by the others.

He had been trying everything he could think of to see what they could do and was convinced that they worked together somehow. Obviously that was why he had gotten nothing from the first.

His own ego stroking, however, was beginning to falter, as he made no further progress despite the second object. He was beginning to think that he would simply have to admit he did not know how to work them and may never find out.

Then, a comforting thought occurred to him and he latched onto it, making his ego purr once more. There must be several of these stones and one must have all of them to accomplish anything. While his ego remained placated with this thought, he still deflated as it occurred to him that it had been random enough to find the first two. What hope would he have in finding any more? As those who had first found them had simply stumbled across them, he concluded that his only hope at this point would be to wander the jungle with his eyes focused upon the earth. He did not relish such a daunting task and instead returned his mind to the inscriptions upon the stones.

Perhaps if he could decipher them, they would tell him where to look and what to do. Despite the inevitable futility of this task, he decided he would have no other choice. As it was late in the night, he was unable to read them clearly where he sat. He also had too many thoughts to keep within his head alone.

Not long after creating his cave, he had discovered that charcoal upon stripped bark worked nicely to mark things down and get them out of his head. He had even begun to create a system of symbols to represent specific thoughts. By the firelight, he could ease his mind by making more of his markings. He stood and made his way back to the central fire, determined he could still solve this mystery.

* * *

Despite being one who normally enjoyed his solitude, Kiran had become accustomed to having others nearby. One way he found best to do this was to help Ferra in her practices and teachings of the students. For her part, she seemed to enjoy his increased presence and had begun to give not-entirely subtle suggestions that she would not mind becoming more intimately involved. This unfortunately made their time together more awkward for him but he was at a loss for what else to do.

His mind was still endlessly churning over the visit from Tryailla Lilith. She had warned him not to let her people test him and given him her crest to ward them off. It now hung heavily in a pouch he kept tied to his waist. Despite her reassurances, however, he had not felt particularly confident that that alone would keep him safe, most significantly because he had no idea how it worked.

It had been his own idea, therefore, that he would take the extra precaution of ensuring he was never alone as all those who had disappeared before had been entirely alone when abducted. Although Tryailla Lilith had not explicitly stated the two events were linked, he was sure that it was so and was determined not to play into the hands of those he doubted had his best interests in mind.

Tryailla Lilith had not stayed long that night but her unique visage remained etched into his mind so much that even when he closed his eyes, he imagined he saw her. She had an unnatural hold upon him and he continued to reason with himself that the bewitchment was entirely because she was an alien being, obviously much more powerful than he.

An unforeseen benefit had occurred since that last visit, however. With all his efforts to remain with Ferra, more for his own protection than her companionship, his abilities began to develop much faster than they had before. He could now teleport as easily as Ferra and the two of them had gone exploring on other planets that they had remembered from their initial journey through the universe.

In fact, they had found one planet that felt particularly welcoming. They now sat upon Kiran's favourite knoll, discussing it as they ate the dried meat of an antelope and looked out over the savannah.

"Maybe we should all go there someday," Ferra suggested warmly. "We have been here such a long time. The new experiences might be good for us."

Kiran gave a non-committal grunt as he chewed his food.

She shrugged, apparently not bothered by his indifference. After taking a deep breath, she pulled her knees into her chest and rested on them. "At the very least," she continued, "We might as well use it as our destination when trying to teach the others how to make the jump across large distances."

"I think we should see if we can take another person with us," he suggested.

Looking at him quizzically, she asked, "What do you mean?"

"Well," he began, "I'm not entirely convinced those, like the Children, will be able to go anywhere they haven't seen before. We don't really know but the thought occurred to me because we have only ever gone to places we already knew. We can picture them and concentrate upon them because we know where we are going. Neither of us has been able to go somewhere entirely new."

She straightened up as she thought about this problem. "You could be right," she conceded. "Does that mean the Children have to stay here if we ever decide to leave?" The thought obviously terrified her and Kiran was not surprised. She was the most motherly person he had ever met.

"This is why I think we should try taking others with us," he offered. "I thought we could try it with each other first. If it doesn't work, we are more likely to survive as we both know what we are doing individually."

"We can try it when I get the courage," she said.

"Hopefully, that will not take too long. We may need that ability sooner rather than later." His face stiffened as he realized what he had just let slip and that Ferra had not missed it.

"Why would we need such ability 'sooner rather than later'?" she asked sternly.

Attempting - and failing embarrassingly - to be casual, he replied, "No idea. I just thought that we might not know what could happen. We saw entire galaxies collide. It won't always be safer."

She was not fooled by his talk of galaxies. "Is this about the disappearances?" she pressed.

"Well... We don't exactly know what is going on there do we?" he defended. "It could be anyone."

"Anyone?" she recoiled a bit at the word and saw again that he had used wording he had not intended.

"Anything, I meant," he said quickly but both knew it was too late to hide it. He was normally so careful with his words and had never let anything out that he was not comfortable in saying. Now that his mouth seemed to have disconnected itself from his thought, he was truly irate with his own stupidity. He had not wanted anyone to know about his experiences or how much he had been told.

Ferra was staring at him, completely at the end of her patience for his poorly veiled lies. "Explain what is going on right now, Kiran. What do you know?"

"Not much," he replied and finally, his reply came out calm, for this was the truth.

Nevertheless, as she got onto her knees to lean closer to him and lowered her chin to glare at him, he knew he would have to give her more than he was willing to end this uncomfortable conversation. He thought for a moment more about what he would be able to say without giving away too much.

"Everyone who has disappeared has been alone at the time," he began. Before he could continue, however, her entire body gave a depressed droop and she sat back upon her heels.

"That is why you have been spending so much time with me. I had hoped you were..." she did not finish the sentence as though its conclusion were too painful. Turning her head away from him, she looked out over the savannah and he was convinced that he could see the wetness of tears appear at the edge of her eye.

Feeling like he had been completely insensitive and rude, he had no idea what to say to her or how to handle the situation. He was fond of her but not in the way she wanted and he found this awkward display too difficult to decipher. If he tried too hard to comfort her, she might get the wrong idea again. Lifting his hand briefly as though he thought placing it upon her back or shoulder may help, he withdrew it when he realized the only way out of the situation was to accept it for what it was and wait out the pain. He said nothing, awaiting her response.

She was trying to suppress her tears and appear strong. After several more moments, she took a deep steadying breath and turned to him with a feeble smile. "You were going to tell me what else you knew," she said.

As much as he did not like what had just transpired, he disliked the conversation about the disappearances even more. When she showed she would not let it from her mind, the colour drained from his face. He hurried to remember how he had planned to phrase what he could share. "Well, we have all been alone a few times since these started," he began shakily again, "but these disappearances don't happen every time or to everyone."

She nodded in agreement.

He continued, "I just think... well, a few times... I think I've seen someone when alone."

"Who?" she asked quickly.

"I don't know but it wasn't one of us," he said as he tried to keep out as much detail as possible.

Ferra would not be deterred, "What did this person look like? Were they human or Cat?"

"I don't know what they are," he replied. "But they are not Thinkers. This is what worries me. Maybe we missed something when we came here. Maybe this place really is the home of something more than animal?"

She got to her feet. "We have to contact the council. We have to figure out how to handle this."

"No," he said more forcefully than he had intended.

She looked reprovingly down her nose at him.

He needed her to understand. He stood and placed his hands upon her shoulders so that he could look into her eyes. "I am not telling the council for a very important reason," he explained.

"But others could be in danger too," she insisted. "What if the other races begin to be taken?"

He took a deep breath, knowing he had to share even more. "They are watching us, Ferra. We are all in danger and if I tell the council what I know, it could cause these beings to act before we know enough to fight back."

Her eyes widened. "You know more than you've already told me?" She whispered.

He nodded firmly and explained, "One of them, one who is on our side has visited me. She has warned me about them. It was at great risk to her own life. I do not want to risk her being found out by telling everyone. I am afraid for all of us in this. That is why I do not want to tell the council. Before it was stupid pride that kept me silent but now I have a legitimate reason. We cannot tell anyone. We must continue on like nothing has happened but we must never be alone."

"If these beings are so powerful, why do they wait for us to be alone?" Ferra's question came out more like a whispered musing than a direct interrogation of Kiran.

"I don't know," he replied. "Maybe it is easier for them."

Ferra was lost in thought for many moments before she looked into his eyes and said, "How do you know you can trust this being? Maybe she is the one behind the disappearances and is trying to gain your trust to make you easier prey?"

Kiran could not explain the extreme offense he took to this comment. It was a logical question. "She could have taken me the night she warned me."

"Maybe she likes to manipulate her victims," Ferra offered much more bitterly.

"I trust her completely," Kiran said. "She is trying to help us."

"Help you, I think," Ferra said. "She hasn't shown herself to any others of our kind."

"That we know of," Kiran retorted.

Ferra's eyes darkened reproachfully. "I think I understand my competition now," she said.

This comment had caught him completely off guard and all he could do was stare, open-mouthed in response.

She looked at him with hardened eyes. "Good-bye, Kiran. If you want protection from these abductors, look somewhere else. I would still like to keep my dignity." Reaching up, she placed her hands upon his and threw them down from her shoulders. With one last glare, she walked passed him to return to the settlement.

"Wait!" he called after her but she did not respond. "You are in just as much danger. We have to stay together. None of us can be alone!" She continued to ignore him as she walked out of sight. Looking around nervously, he expected to see a monster jump out at him. When none did so, he quickened to return to the settlement himself.

## Chapter 6

Spring had decided to give one last effort before surrendering fully to summer. For almost week, it had been raining steadily. This had resulted in many of the Wolves taking shelter once more within the caves. For Shinga, however, the confinement that she had endured out of necessity during the winter was too painful to go through again. Getting wet was the least of her worries. With this now ever-present forlorn attitude, she had spent the morning trudging slowly through the eastern forest.

Ashyina would be displeased that she was not trying to develop her skills but Shinga had too much self-pity to bother with such attempts now. The only thought she afforded them this afternoon was that of abandoning them altogether. Stopping, she looked around and realized she was at the pond where the Children would swim on warm days. She gave a heavy sigh as she figured she should probably go elsewhere lest any of them stumble upon her there despite the unwelcoming weather.

When she turned around to leave, she stopped abruptly and her heart jumped into her throat as her eyes locked upon Arken's. He was accompanied by nine other young men who were similar in age.

The expression in his eyes confused her. He seemed surprised to have come upon her and yet there was something else that spoke of an inner turmoil. Looking at several of his companions, she noticed that many of them were glaring at her and some stood wide-eyed and nearly drooling. The muscles of their bare arms were tense and they rocked on bent knees as if they planned to pounce.

"Get away from our pond, animal," one of them called to her.

She forced her chin up in a haughty manner to feign confidence. "I don't care about your pond," she said. "Unlike some present, I will continue to live when those who are the real animals have died."

She was looking at Arken as she spoke and he seemed thoroughly uncomfortable with the situation, yet also unable to act. The companion who had spoken to her, a tall dark haired boy of approximately 20 years old, stepped around Arken to come closer to her.

"Do you think you are less of an animal than I?" he seethed. "Avorlig is right about you. You have no thought left." He indicated her ears with his eyes and a twitch of his jaw. "You can't even change properly."

Everything about his demeanour and tone indicated he was happy to have found trouble. For her part, Shinga was not. Now realizing that at least this man was interested in more than idle posturing, she tried to step around him to leave. He blocked her path.

"I told you I'm not interested in your pond," she vented. "Let me leave and I won't bother you anymore."

The dark haired boy was about to say something but Arken, who she had not noticed step forward, was pushing him back by the arm. "Let's leave her alone," he said. "She's got enough problems."

Shinga did not wait for a better opportunity and immediately scurried around the group to head back towards the caves. Although she had seen the Children whispering about her and had even heard the occasional taunt, she had never felt as threatened as she had with that boy towering over her.

As she tried to make her way back to the caves, she did not look back until she heard shouting behind her. She turned abruptly to see Arken and the tall boy yelling at each other. They kept gesturing in her direction but she was too far from them now to make out what they were yelling. Arken got pushed down and she saw several of the others jeering at him and kicking at him before looking up in her direction. The dark haired boy called out something to his companions and they all began to run towards her.

Frantically, she turned back towards the caves and ran as fast as she could through the trees. The profuse rain they had been having made the ground extremely muddy, causing her to slip frequently as she ran. From the noises behind her, she could tell that even her pursuers were having difficulty with the slick terrain. However, they were still closing in upon her and she forced her legs to move despite the cramping and pain. It was like a horrible nightmare in which she knew she could run faster but somehow felt as though she were running through water.

Her hope, her salvation, came as she saw the lightened fields beyond the forest edge. She would be near the caves soon and they would not harm her in front of the others. She could feel one of them upon her heels and begged for her legs to keep moving fast enough to break out of the woods before they caught her. Tears raced down her cheeks as her fear and her effort forced them to flow unfettered. Crying and screaming for help, she emerged into the fields and was elated to see she had made it to safety. Despite this, she did not slow and intended to run straight to the caves.

Unfortunately, her pursuers did not slow either and it appeared the lack of the cover of the forest was no deterrent. In the open fields, they, many of whom were much taller and much more muscular from their frequent hunts, were able to catch up to her easily. The dark haired boy tackled her to the ground. The others swarmed around them. They kicked her and scratched at her as they began to rip at her leathers and furs.

The dark haired man yelled inches from her face, "You want to be an animal? I will show you what it is to be one."

She screamed and cried out for help but no one came. In their attack, she could make out the opening of the main cave. It was close enough for those within to hear and still no one came to aid her. As she screamed and sobbed during their repeated rape of her, the rain pelted her eyes. She shut them as tightly as possible. She writhed and bucked trying to escape, but she was at their mercy. It was not until they had spit on her and decided to saunter back into the forest that she was left alone.

Beaten, mud-covered, and violated, she tried to roll herself over to push herself up. There was no energy left in her body. She sobbed into the mud and dug her fingers into it, clenching her digits around it with all that she had left. Barely even understanding what had happened, she felt as though her own heart had been ripped out of her chest and lay as a withered corpse upon the earth. She did not even care now if anyone came. Perhaps if she were lucky, the torture truly had been ended and she was simply lying dead upon the ground, unable to be reborn because she truly had lost her thought.

Gasping for air, she writhed as she tried and failed repeatedly to push herself to her knees. In her physical efforts, her mind began to work again. Perhaps they would come back and torture her again. She forced herself up, staggering as she stood. One thought came to her mind in her distress: Ashyina.

She must tell Ashyina, who would defend her and love her, hold her lovingly like she once did. Ashyina would protect her from any further harm. This event would show Ashyina that Shinga had not been delusional, that she had been right all along about the fallacy of bringing thought to this world, that it must be undone.

Half staggering, half running, she made her way to the main cave, desperate to find her lover, the one person she wanted to give her solace. Their behaviour to each other seemed so silly now that such a tragedy had befallen her.

Upon entering the cave, she learned why no one had come to her rescue. It was completely empty. She called out for Ashyina, Lapidus, or Barjl. No one answered. She walked out to the other smaller caves and saw that, surprisingly, they too were empty. No one had come because there was no one to hear her. Perhaps that is why her attackers had been so bold, they had known she was helpless and unaided.

Running back to the main cave, she made her way down the tunnel to the council chamber and found Ashyina sitting upon one of the many spirals, her eyes closed. Relief washed over her. She threw herself down next to Ashyina and wrapped her arms around her only hope.

"I was so scared," she cried into Ashyina's shoulder. Ashyina looked completely caught off guard by this sudden intrusion and the nature of the outburst.

"What's wrong?" Ashyina asked with compassion that Shinga had not known in almost a year. This glimpse of the Ashyina she had once known and loved lifted her heart and she squeezed her again and cried as she recounted what had happened so nearby.

When she had finished, she sat back and looked into Ashyina's face, which was nearly expressionless. Assuming it was the shock at the news, Shinga threw herself upon Ashyina again. "It was horrible. I have never felt so horrible," she sobbed.

"I cannot believe it," Ashyina whispered in shock. "I cannot believe any of the Children would do such a thing."

"But they did!" Shinga pleaded, worried now that Ashyina had not believed her. She gestured at the ripped cloth and cuts and bruises they had laid upon her.

Ashyina stared at them for several seconds as if taking in the reality. "The Children could not have come up with such atrocities. There must be something going on. There must be something wrong," she said, still barely above a whisper.

Shinga was so frustrated that she was tempted to slap Ashyina across the face to bring some sense back to her. "There is something wrong!" she yelled. "They are abominations. No Thinker could do that to anyone. The Children's thoughts are perverted and impure. They are not like us as you had hoped!" Her tears continued to run and her lips quivered. She tightened her jaw.

Ashyina looked sharply into her eyes. "Why did you not change? Why did you not run from them or fight back?"

Taken aback, Shinga stared at her. "I did run," she said. "I did try to fight back."

"Your abilities! Why did you not use them?" Ashyina demanded quite unreasonably.

"I – I was so afraid," Shinga stammered. "I didn't know what to do. I ran. It was all I could think of. It did not even occur to me to change." Then, finding a renewed anger as her entire chest had been ripped out through her stomach, she turned on Ashyina, "Why did you not come to my rescue? I was screaming for help and you were here the entire time!"

Ashyina had no immediate answer but seemed to have been hit by the realization of what she was saying. Breathing heavily, she regained some control of herself and whispered, "I did not hear you." Tears welled in her eyes and upon seeing this, Shinga began to soften. "I did not hear you," Ashyina whispered again, "I am so sorry."

Shinga leaned in once more to embrace her former lover. "It is alright," she soothed back. "I know you wouldn't have let me be hurt like that."

"I should have done something!" Ashyina wailed and Shinga felt strangely awkward with this new outburst and yet was comforted that Ashyina finally seemed to understand and care what had happened. Nevertheless, Shinga was also confused as to how it was now her, the victim, who was doing the comforting.

As Ashyina cried, Shinga said quietly, "We can now deal with the aberration of thought that afflicts them. Now that you know the extent of the problem, we can get rid of them."

Ashyina sobered at these words and pushed her away abruptly, wiping away her tears. Without looking at her, she stood, saying, "No, this is not the Children's fault. This is mine. I have to leave to handle this." Then, seemingly remembering something, she looked down at Shinga and added, "Tell no one of what has happened until I return."

Shinga sat dumbfounded as Ashyina left her alone, all sense of safety or comfort leaving with her.

* * *

Avorlig gasped for air as Ashyina held him against the wall of his hut. Her forearm pressed obdurately against his throat.

"Where did you ever come up with an idea like that, you sick old Hawk?" She yelled in his face, unconcerned by the saliva that pelted his cheeks.

"I – I didn't," he defended. "I never told them to do that to her."

"You lie!" She reached out with her free hand to grab the flesh upon his sternum and clutched it between her fingers as tightly as her strength would allow. She twisted it. "There is no way they could have thought of that on their own. What did you tell them? You promised she wouldn't be harmed!"

Grasping at her arm, trying to release the pressure upon his throat, he wheezed, "I didn't want her to be harmed. I promised you! I simply told them to scare her."

"And how did you advise them in accomplishing that?" she seethed.

"I simply explained to them that we needed to be sure her thought had not been degraded," he said.

She eyed him suspiciously and threw him to the ground. "And that was all it took, was it?"

He considered for a moment as he massaged his neck. "No, many of them were not convinced there was a problem. I had to explain why it was such an issue, that in her current state she was not much better than an animal."

"You convinced them she wasn't even human and then told them to terrorize her?" Ashyina spat. "No wonder they were able to perform such a despicable task. You make me sick."

Avorlig regarded her calmly. "You agreed to it," he said evenly. "Has it not occurred to you what that means?"

She stared at him blankly.

A smile slowly cracked his face. "She was indeed harmed," he said. "Once the others learn of what we have done, it will be us who is exiled and never allowed to return. We are both responsible and they will see to it that we are both punished."

"I have told her not to tell anyone what has happened," Ashyina said desperately.

Avorlig gave a mocking laugh. "Do you really think she will stay quiet when she sees you have done nothing to rectify the situation?" he asked. "Do you really think this event will remain quiet? It won't matter what you think of me when the truth comes out. Everyone will think you are just as bad." He stood and walked over to her with a sinister gleam in his eye and whispered, "I wonder who they will pick as the new head of the council? Lapidus maybe? Gryp? And who will take your place as a Wolf representative? Perhaps even Shinga will be given the post out of pity for what you made her endure."

All colour had drained from Ashyina's face but all she could stammer out was, "Y-you p-promised me this wouldn't happen. You promised me she wouldn't be harmed."

He gave another mirthless laugh. "You honestly think the council will care about such an insignificant detail?" he taunted. "We must handle this situation to protect ourselves."

"And how do you propose we do that?" she spat. "We can't undo the past."

"Of course not," Avorlig replied matter-of-factly. "But we can discredit Shinga so that no one believes her."

"Hasn't she been through enough?" Ashyina shot back. "How much are you willing to torture one person?"

He seemed unconcerned as he replied, "You are forgetting a crucial fact."

"What could I possibly be forgetting that would make discrediting her acceptable?"

"I won our argument," he said. "She did nothing to defend herself. No abilities came forth in the height of her fear to protect her. She was no better than those deer your people hunt. According to the terms of our discussion, such an outcome indicated she had lost her thought and would be exiled."

Ashyina glared at him. "Are you also forgetting," she began, "That the plan was to ensure she was unharmed so that I could take this evidence to the council? As it stands now, no one can know about this test. Without evidence, there is no way that people on the council like Lapidus will agree."

"I understand that," Avorlig vented as though Ashyina were missing the point. "But you should not be feeling as sorry for Shinga as you are because she is barely even a Thinker any more if at all. She is not much better than an animal and, as such, should no longer be worthy of your concern."

She simply stared at him. She could not believe he could so easily negate what had happened, how easily he could calm his conscience given what they had encouraged to happen. Part of her wanted to run to Shinga's defence and protect her, confessing everything and begging for forgiveness even if it meant banishment. Perhaps it was the only way she could live with herself.

Avorlig broke into her thoughts. "And what of the Children involved? If what they did becomes known, they too will be punished. Do you really want that?"

Running through the event in her mind over and over again, she tried to figure out how they could have done such a thing. Her thoughts circled, each time grasping onto Avorlig and what he had told them; how he had had to go out of his way to convince them. No, the Children were not at fault. They would never have done such a thing without Avorlig's encouragement and manipulation. They must be protected.

"They will be punished if you let this come out," Avorlig repeated. "And Shinga will not keep quiet if you do not come to her aid. You have no choice. You must discredit her. You must tell everyone that she has begun to lie to cover for her own inadequacies. Her failures to improve herself have driven her mad. You must tell them that such lies are the evidence of how degraded her thought has become. You must learn to drop your attachment to her so that you can complete this task. You must learn to hate her, to see her for the lower form that she is."

"No!" Ashyina yelled. "I will not. She has done nothing wrong. We are the ones who have done wrong. I will convince her to stay quiet. I will keep her quiet and then no one needs to be punished. The Children will remain unharmed."

Peering at her sternly, Avorlig warned, "You will not succeed in keeping this from coming out. You will have to make her your enemy. We have the tools. You must simply be willing. Tell everyone that this is why you are estranged. It will not be surprising. You have more respect than she does anyway so it..."

"Enough!" She yelled. "I have heard enough from you." Looking him up and down, she added, "You should be the one who is punished but if that happens, innocent Children will be harmed too. We have done things your way and look at the mess. I will fix this how I see fit."

"And if that does not work?" Avorlig asked as though only mildly curious.

Staring at him, unspeaking, she did not want to vocalize what she knew was the only answer left to her and what she also knew to be exactly what he wanted to hear. The words would not come. They were too vile for her mouth. She left Avorlig, sick of his psychopathy.

When she had returned to the caves, she found Shinga sitting by the fire, her face still swollen from her tears, and to Ashyina's horror, Barjl comforting her with one arm wrapped around her shoulders. Upon her entrance, Barjl looked up and glared at her.

"I need to speak to Shinga alone," she ordered.

"Then take her to the council chamber," he growled. "It is empty. I am the first one back from the hunt. I came looking for Arken. He was supposed to be right behind me when we left but I lost track of him." The look he gave Ashyina was sopping with accusation.

Pretending to ignore it, she stretched out a hand to Shinga and spoke as compassionately as she could manage, "Come with me, Shinga. We need to discuss some things."

As if in a daze, Shinga limply lifted her fingers to take the offered hand. Ashyina had to help pull Shinga to her feet before guiding her brutalized lover down the path into the council chamber. Once inside, she had intended to speak immediately, but the grief upon Shinga's face, the obvious bruises and injuries she had been given were all too shocking.

Ashyina stared at her for many moments, comprehending the reality of what had happened. The conversation with Avorlig returned to her consciousness. The consequences of the truth returned with it, draining her blood from her body. Taking a deep breath, she began, "I think we should keep this quiet."

Shinga lifted her head to regard Ashyina with wide eyes. "W-w-what?" she stammered at barely more than a whisper.

"I cannot find the boys," Ashyina said. "I do not know who was involved. Everyone had been sent on a hunt except for those with small Children who were practicing their teleportation elsewhere. That is why no one was here to witness it. Our food stores were getting so low. I needed to send everyone to hunt. Those boys should not have been in the forest. They should have been hunting." She realized her voice had quickly descended into a pleading. Perhaps she was pleading for Shinga to understand, to forgive the entire event.

However, this was not how Shinga reacted. She screamed, "How can you say that? You don't know who was involved so you can do nothing? I know who was involved! I can tell you each and every one. Come with me and I will show you." She stepped forward and even held out her hand for Ashyina to take, but Ashyina ignored it.

"If you tell everyone what happened," Ashyina began to explain as calmly and controlled as she could manage, "What will that mean for our people?"

"What about me?" Shinga asked shrilly. "Have you ever put me before the others? The one you are supposed to love? I know we have had our difficulties but how can you ask this of me?"

"It isn't always about you, Shinga," Ashyina said angrily. "Sometimes it is about the good of the whole. That is all I have ever tried to impress upon you but you stubbornly insist that you – the individual – are more important than the whole."

Shinga looked as though she had been slapped across the face. Her cheeks had even begun to redden. Lowering her eyes, she whispered, "What is the whole if not a gathering of individuals. You are an individual Ashyina."

"And I don't matter compared to the whole!" she yelled.

"You would have this problem continue to develop unchecked and that is good for the whole?" Shinga asked quietly.

"This isn't a developing problem," Ashyina vented. "They didn't know what they were doing. It has never happened before."

Shinga looked up at her again, desperation in her eyes. "How can you think that means it will never happen again?"

"It will not," Ashyina said firmly and with finality.

"I doubt the council will be as indifferent about this as you are proving to be," Shinga threatened.

Ashyina's worst fear was materializing before her. Avorlig had been right. She would not be able to keep Shinga from telling everyone. She had probably already told Barjl, which is why he had been so cold. There was no choice now.

"Do not pursue this," Ashyina replied in an equally warning tone. "I cannot promise your safety if you do."

Shinga gave a maniacal laugh. "Are you saying you will kill me? Why would I care? You can do no worse than has already happened."

"No, of course not," Ashyina answered frantically. "But I cannot be sure that those involved will not want to silence you."

"Then kill them," Shinga growled. "That would take care of the entire situation nicely. They deserve it for what they did."

"We do not kill our own young!" Ashyina boomed. She was breathing heavily and trying, with much difficulty, to regain her composure. "Do not tell anyone, Shinga. You may not like the consequences if you do."

She walked from the hall, leaving Shinga alone. As quickly as she could, she made her way back to the cave where Barjl was still sitting. Her mind was frantic but she tried her best to appear calm.

"Do not believe everything Shinga tells you," she said as casually as she could manage.

He only raised a brow in reply.

"I sent everyone hunting. You know that as well as I."

He still said nothing.

She added, "I think the stress of her failures has made her resort to extreme measures. If her lies are spread, it could harm our people..."

"Far more than if she were telling the truth," Barjl finished for her with a monotone voice and a deadpan expression.

She was trying desperately to make him believe her but he seemed to have already made up his mind. "You know she can't be telling the truth. Nothing like that has ever happened before," she said.

He stood and brushed himself off before looking out the cave entrance as if considering where he should go. "Nor has a Thinker ever betrayed their own kind," he said and left.

* * *

Lapidus was leading the hunting party home, a large stag in tow, when he saw Ashyina wave to him from the cave. There was something in her demeanour that worried him but he did not quicken his pace.

When the group had arrived at the entrance, she announced, "I must speak to Lapidus alone. Please prepare the kill while I speak to him in the council chamber."

Once in the chamber, he stopped and examined her face. "What is going on? You look agitated," he said.

She paced the room nervously. "I am agitated. Shinga has created a new problem."

He was so confused he had nothing to say and waited for Ashyina to explain.

"Her mind is lost to her," she said. "I am convinced of it now. She is making up insane stories to get her way."

He asked, "What stories?" when she did not immediately elaborate.

She stopped in front of him and looked into his eyes. "You know I sent everyone on the hunt?"

"Of course," he replied, still confused about what this had to do with anything.

"All the Children who were old enough would have been with you?" she reiterated.

"Yes," he said slowly, thinking it was Ashyina who had lost her mind.

"Exactly!" she said firmly as if he had confirmed the very thing she had wanted. "She is saying a group of them attacked her. They chased her and each one of them beat her and forced her to mate with them. She even went so far as to claim it happened right in front of these caves despite the fact that I was here. I heard nothing happening. She came running to me for help, crying and sobbing and putting on a fabulous display to try to convince me it had happened. She had even ripped her clothing and hit herself with sticks and rocks to make bruises upon her own skin. She came up with this elaborate plot all to try to convince me that she has been right all along, that the Children are an 'abomination' as she calls them."

Lapidus had no idea what to say. The entire story was too shocking. His brain tried to absorb what she had told him and with great difficulty, he wrapped his mind around it. "Why would she say they forced her to mate?" he asked. "None of our kind has ever done such a thing."

"I know!" Ashyina shrilled. "She has lost her mind. She is saying she is going to tell everyone, the entire council, to make sure the boys are punished."

As Lapidus searched for a reason as to why she would do this, he thought back to the winter in the caves, to how Shinga had almost never spoken, how she hadn't practiced or progressed, how she was so easily brought to tears whenever the conversation turned to such matters. "Perhaps she is under too much pressure and isn't thinking straight. Maybe she even imagined it happened," he offered as he could think of no other reason.

"There is no way it could have happened," Ashyina insisted. "The facts do not support her story. I gave her the benefit of the doubt at first. I went and checked the forest for them because she said they had returned there. I found no one. But she is determined to harm all of us with these lies."

"Have you tried reasoning with her," Lapidus suggested logically.

"Of course I have tried," Ashyina cried, "She refuses to listen to sense. She is deranged. We cannot let her harm our people this way, all for her selfish gain."

"What can we do?" Lapidus asked, almost pleadingly as he worried what kind of rift such a story could create amongst not only the Wolves but also the other races.

Ashyina let out a relieved breath and smiled thankfully at him. "I need your support when she begins to tell this tale to anyone who will listen. I need you to help me convince people of the truth that she is lying. I need you to help spread the word of what she is really doing. And, if the council becomes involved, I need your support in arguing against her."

"You have it," he replied firmly.

Ashyina, the acuteness of her stress having waned with his answer, wavered slightly and collapsed onto her backside on the ground. "Why is she doing this?" she moaned. "Why has she turned against me?" She placed her face in her hands and sobbed.

Kneeling next to her, Lapidus rubbed her back reassuringly as he cooed, "It will be alright. We will straighten this out and maybe we will even be able to bring Shinga back to herself."

"She is gone from me forever," Ashyina wailed. "The Thinker I once knew is dead!"

Lapidus continued rubbing her back as he tried to think of some perfect phrase that would fix everything. Nothing came to him. "It will be alright," was all he could offer. "Everything will turn out fine, you'll see."

## Chapter 7

Shinga sobbed into Barjl's shoulder. He had become her only source of comfort and support since her attack and he had been kind enough – or at the very least tactful enough – not to have made any references, no matter how subtle, to his physical attraction towards her. Now, after having heard the most distressing news of all, she sat with him upon a grassy hill far from the caves as she released her anguish in waterfalls upon his chest.

It had been several weeks since the incident and news had spread very quickly about what had happened. Shinga soon learned that the news had spread so quickly because Ashyina and Lapidus were making active efforts to tell everyone that she had gone insane and was making up stories. Those who had been involved eagerly latched onto this explanation and joined the rallying cry to defame her. Given the consternation with which she had already been viewed by most of the Wolves, this did not take much effort on their part.

Arken, who had known exactly what happened, had confirmed for Barjl, who did not need much convincing, that Shinga had been telling the truth. Both men had taken every opportunity to defend Shinga but so great was Ashyina and Lapidus' respect amongst the others and so artfully did they craft a tale of lies and jealousy that even Barjl and Arken's objections went unheeded. In fact, life amongst the other Wolves had become increasingly difficult for them as well. All of Barjl's former lovers, except for Arken's mother who had died years earlier, and even his cognizant Children had cut off all contact with him. Aside from Arken, he had no family left.

Weeks later, it caused only more outrage for the two men when they learned that Ashyina had called for the council to arbitrate the matter and judge Shinga for the crime of lying to harm her own kind.

"I cannot believe they are doing this," he seethed. "No one is listening. Even the Children have made Arken an outcast." He heaved a sigh. "I suppose they do not want to face the horrible possibilities that have emerged amongst them."

With a great sniff, Shinga pulled herself away from him and tried to dry her face with the back of her hand. "Th-thank y-you," she said between involuntary intakes of breath. "You and Arken have been so kind to me."

He seemed somewhat affronted. "Why wouldn't we be? You've been put through so much and what the others are doing to you is wrong."

"I should have realized Ashyina thought I was lying as soon as she told me not to tell anyone." She gave a great heaving wail once more and nearly fell backwards in the process.

Barjl reached out an arm to steady her. "I'm not convinced she thinks you are lying," he commented darkly. "She seems to ignore Arken's evidence entirely and to have gone out of her way to make sure he cannot directly talk to Lapidus. If she thought you were lying, she would not be making such efforts."

Her body shuddered again with her sobbing but she fought to regain enough composure to speak clearly. "I can't believe she would do that. She is convinced I am the villain, trying to harm her. It isn't true but I still don't believe she would be doing this if she believed me."

"How can you say that?" Barjl boomed. "You said yourself that her excuses for not pursuing the matter were feeble and that she went on about the good of the whole. The woman is deranged."

She said nothing, now staring at her feet as she listened to him vent his rage.

"I don't trust her," he went on. "She had a meeting with Avorlig not long before it happened. I wouldn't be surprised if he were involved."

"She would never cooperate with him. She despises him," she said. Her voice was quiet and contorted by the lump in her throat caused by her prolonged crying.

Barjl considered her words before saying, "She despised him when she cared for you. I do not know how much that hatred would hold now that she has turned upon you as she has."

Shrugging, she cleared her throat and said much more calmly, "I have to believe this is a misunderstanding. I cannot believe her betrayal would go that deeply. I just can't."

He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and gave a quick squeeze. "No matter what happens," he said, "I will stand behind you and I know Arken will too."

She looked into his eyes thankfully, giving a feeble smile. "Thank you, Barjl. If I did like men, you would be the first one I would want."

He gave a smug smile in return as he replied, "Of course you would. I'm the best."

* * *

Despite a long journey, Ventha had refused to speak to Gryp on their way to the council meeting. Before departing, they had had yet another argument about whether to inform the council of Lolan's death and the strange disappearances. As they had been informed the meeting was to deal with a problem within the ranks of the Wolves, Ventha was convinced that they had begun to have the same experiences. She felt this indicated that the time for them to come forward had long passed.

Luckily, for him, they had to be in agreement to share any news before being allowed to bring the issue to the council. When she had questioned him as to why he had yet again refused to bring it before them, he argued that they did not know what the meeting had been called for, and that it may have nothing to do with such matters. Indeed, it may be something much more serious that would require their full attention and for which they should not be distracted by unsolved mysteries. Her response had been the same stony silence she had given him the entire journey. They were now approaching the caves of the Wolves and he could see that they were the last delegation to arrive as the others were gathered outside.

Upon landing, he changed form and had altered his robes to look the same as his Dragon scales only with spirals and constellation designs etched in pitch black upon the dark red. Ventha now wore a shimmering gold dress with long sleeves that were decorated by ornately edged holes at the shoulders.

As they approached the congregation, they found that many of them had very stern expressions upon their faces. Ashyina came to meet them immediately.

"We are dealing with a very serious issue," she began. "One of our own...," she paused as though the news were too difficult to face, "has been deliberately and maliciously trying to harm her own kind, and in particular the Children."

Gryp was unconcerned. This news was not nearly as troublesome to him as the winged beings he had encountered but he saw that Ventha was utterly shocked and hoped that he might get his wish after all. She might be too distracted to care about what he did or did not tell the council.

"What is going on?" Ventha pleaded.

Ashyina took a breath as if to steady herself before saying, "This Thinker has begun to spread vicious lies about the Children in a deliberate attempt to have them punished or possibly even killed. Today, we are going to discuss the matter and mete out a judgement upon her."

"Who is it?" Ventha gasped, apparently incapable of comprehending that a Thinker could do such a thing to another.

As she answered, Ashyina did not look up. "Shinga," she said mournfully.

Ventha placed a consoling hand upon her shoulder as she whispered, "I am so sorry."

With this, Ashyina returned to herself and announced, "We shall convene before we speak to Shinga."

The entire council followed her to the council chamber, which he saw had since been covered in paintings by the Wolves. He felt an involuntary sense of longing as he noticed these people appeared to have much more pride in their race than the Dragons. They had spent their time creating not brawling.

As they stood upon their own spirals and Ashyina spoke, he found his mind wandering to these images, examining each curve and imperfect colouring of the figures. He barely registered what Ashyina was telling them. In truth, he did not care. Shinga was nothing to him and whatever the council decided, he would agree if only to end the meeting sooner.

The others appeared torn in how to deal with the matter but he remained silent and impassive as they discussed whether to banish her or simply scold her. Ashyina listened to the debate silently. By the time that each member had begun to repeat arguments they had already given, she had made her decision and sent for Shinga.

Luckily, the meeting did not take very long and he was able to leave the room with the others, condemning Shinga to having no Children no matter how many lifetimes she lived, for she was obviously unfit for the position.

Upon leaving the chamber, Gryp was pleased to find that Ventha was still shocked by what had transpired and was almost completely sure he would be able to return home without the issues of disappearances being revisited.

Ashyina was the last to join them in the open air outside the caves. She looked shaken but thanked the council for their support in the matter before adding, "Until we can alter her form enough ourselves, we will have to monitor her to ensure the conditions for her punishment are properly met. She must understand the repercussions."

Avorlig muttered something about them having been too kind for such a crime to which Igella gave him a dirty look. Lapidus was now rubbing Ashyina's shoulders and Gryp could not help feeling the entire visit had been a stressful waste of time. He had wanted to return home as soon as possible to continue brooding over the matter of the winged beings. Until he could uncover more truths about them and especially how best to survive whatever it was they had in mind, he did not want to be distracted.

With great irritation, he learned Ventha had insisted they remain a few days to ensure that Ashyina was coping.

"You may stay," he growled. "I would prefer to return home."

Ventha rolled her eyes before replying, "Your desire for solitude is unnatural when there is risk travelling such distances alone."

He glared at her. "I have flown before," he shot back as though he had simply interpreted her comment to be a slight upon his abilities.

"Then, think of my safety," she offered. "I would prefer not to be left alone."

He dared not argue any more lest too much be revealed to the others but he now suspected her desire to stay behind did not have as much to do with Ashyina's emotional health as she had said. He grumbled, "I shall wait to accompany you home then. But while you are not alone," he motioned to Ashyina and Lapidus. "I would like to take a walk." He left the trio behind, heading for the eastern woods.

He walked until it was late in the day and the reddish light of the sun was quickly fading. In the forest itself, it was already dark in some areas, and would have been difficult to see if he did not have naturally acute eyesight.

He began to walk back to the caves for some evening food. His mind continued to work over his worries. He again thought of his last encounter with the winged beings. No new thoughts came to him and he was unable to glean anything more from his memory than he had already managed. He began to go over the details of the creatures' characteristics once more as if his mind were redrawing them and etching them into his memory more deeply.

He thought of the winged wolf, at least, it most resembled a wolf. The snout was longer and narrower, more like a fox. The ears were larger like a fox's as well. Yet, he still felt it most resembled a wolf in its hulking body and strong neck. He thought about the wings of the being. The entire thing had looked like stone and yet it moved fluidly as if made of flesh. Those wings began to glow, giving an aura of gold.

He shook his head to clear it. The wings had not been gold. They had been stone, pale, and gray. However, they became a brighter gold still and he stopped in his tracks. It was not the wolf of his memory that was gold. It was the being standing before him.

He had just entered a clearing. Looking around at the surrounding wood and seeing five enormous trees bordering the tiny glade, he realized that he was no longer remembering what had happened but that something entirely new was transpiring.

The wolf tilted its head as if regarding him curiously. His mouth did not open and yet Gryp could hear him speak. "You are not as happy to see me as I had expected."

"W-what?" Gryp stammered as though all thought had left him.

The wolf appeared to sigh and yet it had no breath. "Why they have sent me to you, I do not know. Surely there is one better suited."

With this insult, Gryp became defiant. "Am I to be tested then?"

Although the canine's body remained serene, Gryp thought he noticed a scoff before it said, "You? No. We know you would fail. We test only those who show promise."

If Gryp had not been so afraid of these new people, he would have burst with his outrage. As it was, he could not stop thinking of Lolan. He lowered his head and calmed his voice. "And what is to become of those who do not?" He asked.

"For most," the wolf began, "They shall be forgotten, most assuredly massacred in the cross-fire. They are not worthy of our concern. For you, there is a task."

Gryp had not been expecting this. After the unceremonious parting he had been given in their last encounter, he had given up hope of ever appealing to them to see his worth. "What task?"

"We have been watching your people," the wolf replied, as he looked at the shrubbery surrounding the clearing. "You are an odd form. You are new to us but, until now, you have been predictable. Your thought, your logic makes your kind easy for us to understand even if it confuses my masters. Somehow, you have become touched by their emotions. This concerns them greatly. You are beginning to show traits contrary to thought. This could be a problem."

He wanted to demand the wolf explain what on earth he was talking about but his fear reminded him to maintain a polite manner and visage. "What do you want with me then?"

"Your trait," the wolf continued as if he had simply chosen to elaborate upon his previous statement and not as if he had been prompted by a question, "has shown you may work to help us. Before, when so many others of your kind were predictable, this was unnecessary. We had no need of you. With your leader's treachery, my masters feel it prudent. It must be one of you, one of the tainted, that helps. We, untainted by your type of thought, cannot hope to understand or to plan for these problems. Simply watching is no longer enough."

"You want me to betray my own kind by helping you learn how best to overcome them?" Gryp asked, stunned.

The wolf lowered its head as if to sniff some new curiosity and gave a vague shrug. "If you would rather die with the massacred..."

"True Thinkers cannot die," Gryp retorted boldly.

To this the wolf raised its head to look at him. For the first time in Gryp's many lives, he saw a wolf smirk. It was a sinister gesture that him feel he were delicious and easy prey.

"Then what of your Lolan?" the wolf growled low with satisfaction and seemed only more pleased to see the colour drain from Gryp's face. He added, "Simply because we cannot overcome all of your kind at this moment does not mean we cannot rid ourselves of individual burdens."

With a large swallow, Gryp replied, "What would you have me do?"

The wolf was pleased with this question. "As I have already told you, your leader has betrayed your kind. She has proven an enigma for my masters. They do not like those who elude their comprehension." There was a barely discernable threat to his tone.

"Do you mean Ashyina lied to the council?" Gryp asked, more curious about why these powerful beings should care than about the deed itself.

The wolf only shrugged and did not elaborate. "There are other concerns about the one she has betrayed," the Wolf said coolly before adding quietly, "Very troubling concerns."

Gryp was becoming irritated. "If you want me to help you, you are going to have to speak more plainly than you are. How can I do what you want if I do not know what you are saying?"

The wolf glared at him. "It is what we do, Dragon. If you would prefer, we can end our meeting here," he said.

"There is no need to do that," Gryp blurted. "Simply tell me what you want and I shall do whatever it is so long as you will honour the promise to spare me."

The wolf appeared satisfied. "Very well. If you require simple instructions for your simple mind, I shall say this. For now, watch the Wolf Ashyina and her enemy Shinga. How you should act will become apparent in time. Do not let anyone know of our involvement. If any are to discover it, you will join your Lolan."

Gryp did not understand why they were asking him to perform this task, as it was Wolves they wished to investigate. Afraid that his usefulness may be too fragile, he did not dare voice this concern but the Wolf appeared to have sensed his apprehension all the same.

It explained, "I do not know myself why you were chosen but my masters insist you have characteristics which are, at this point, unique amongst your kind. They are crucial for this task. You should be honoured to have been chosen." The wolf eyed him critically once more before saying, "I will find you again to retrieve the knowledge my masters require."

The wolf faded from view so quickly that within only two blinks he had disappeared. Gryp remained rooted to the spot but looked around to see if there was any other sign of the being. When he had confirmed that he was alone in the darkness, he turned to go back to the Wolf caves, now intent on performing the task set him. He had only taken a few steps into the trees when he realized his assessment of his surroundings had been wrong. Ventha's shocked face was looking back at him.

They stared at each other for many moments, neither speaking nor moving. Her wide eyes conveyed her shock and her confusion but then changed to show her anger.

"You knew what has been going on this entire time!" she screamed. "You knew and you told no one? We are being threatened and rather than help your own people you have vowed to aid the enemy?"

The colour drained from his face as he realized she had witnessed a significant portion of his encounter if not the entire meeting. He would have stammered to defend himself if his mind were not now so completely blank. Fear of what the Wolf had said about being discovered gripped him now. Would his existence truly end so easily? Before he even had a chance to save it? Then his mind started working again and it increased its speed to make up for the lost time of his stupor.

"I am trying to bring a peaceful resolution to this matter," he lied.

"For yourself!" she shrilled again. "I heard you. You only cared whether they would spare you! What are these things? Why have they been attacking us? What is going on?" She was completely hysterical, throwing her arms up in the air as she yelled at him and was barely able to focus her eyes upon any one thing. Portions of her body began to show the early signs of reverting as her mind was completely assaulted by this new information. A finger reverted into a sharp talon and nearly took of his nose as she continued to vent wildly.

He tried to appeal to her, to make her believe he was only worried for his people, and he stepped forward with his hands outstretched as if trying to welcome her to be comforted. This gesture apparently brought her abruptly back to herself. All signs of the Dragon faded instantly and she slapped his offered hands away, glaring at him.

"You are not one of us, Gryp," she said. "You are not a Thinker. You are an animal." Her insult was given with cold fury and her eyes were blazing. She added, "Let the council decide what to do with you. I doubt you will be able to hope for as much as banishment."

She turned to walk away from him and with her he saw leave his hopes for life. He had intended only to reach out for her hand to pull her around and reason with her. He had not intended for her to fight off his attempts to get her attention and he had not intended to restrain her by the throat. He had wanted only to stop her. Why would she not simply stop and listen?

His heart raced and his fear peaked in his brain, blocking out all sight, thought, and knowledge of what he was doing. He squeezed her throat as tightly as his fingers could manage.

She was on the ground now, clutching and clawing at his hands, trying to remove them. Her eyes were wide in fear and shock but he did not truly see them. They were nothing but random colours swimming before his own gaze and as he pushed her throat further into the moist earth, watching the last of her life leave her, his consciousness became aware of a large disk to his right. Without thinking or knowing why, only feeling the blood pounding in his ears, he grasped it and slammed it against her chest. In an explosion of lightening, he was thrown back, his body hitting the hard earth with such force that it winded him.

He saw stars pop in front of his eyes. After several moments, his body began to recover from the shock of the impact. He pushed himself up and climbed to his feet. As he stood, he looked down at the body of his comrade. She was motionless and her death had been that of a Child. He had done it. He had murdered.

Looking down at his hands, he tried to find a reason. He tried to understand why he had done what he had. Then, remembering the disk, he tried to figure out what it actually was he had done.

"Perhaps the gods were right about you." The smooth familiar voice of the wolf jolted him back to himself and he spun around to see it regarding him calmly.

Stunned, he struggled to find his voice as his throat had become dry and rough. "Gods?"

"They told me you would do what we wanted," the wolf replied calmly as if they were discussing the weather. "You have proven yourself to me."

Looking back at Ventha's body, he raged, "You made me do that?" She was so still.

The wolf seemed to laugh to itself. "Of course not," it said. "You are the one who performed the deed. That is why you may prove to be so valuable. I simply gave you the tools."

Gryp whispered, "The disk."

The wolf lowered his head and closed his eyes as if to affirm Gryp's conclusion. "She will not be a problem again," he said.

"Of course she will," Gryp insisted. There was hope. The disk was new. He did not know how it worked. He continued, "When she is reborn and remembers what has happened, I will be finished whether it is by you or my own kind."

"There are those flaws again," the wolf grumbled. "Did you not notice the manner of her death? She has joined your Lolan."

It was true. The wolf had just robbed him of his last chance at denial. As the full impact of what had happened penetrated Gryp's brain, he stumbled backwards. The deed could not be undone. There would be no forgiveness or repentance. Ventha was gone.

"I shall see you again," the wolf said in farewell before leaving Gryp alone with his torment.

## Chapter 8

Kiran and Ferra walked through the night savannah, reeling with the shock of the day's events. After the council meeting, they had spoken to no one, immediately teleporting home to digest the events. They had been walking for several hours, wandering only semi-consciously and not yet speaking of what had happened.

It did not escape Kiran's notice that for the first time in weeks, since their uncomfortable discussion about Tryailla Lilith's motives, that Ferra was not deliberately avoiding him. He assumed it was the shock. One of their own could become that vile and deceitful.

Kiran thought of how this could be a part of the larger schemes of those wishing to 'test' his kind, for he knew they must somehow be related. Never before had his people behaved less than honourably but also never before had his people been stalked by an unseen and most assuredly more powerful enemy. There had never been interpersonal violence beyond good-natured brawling. They had seen it in the animals and even some of the other human-like races that walked the planet but not amongst the Thinkers. With all this in mind, he knew there must be something more happening. No matter how much he tried to find the connection, however, he could come up with nothing more concrete.

Perhaps Shinga had been abducted and this was the result? He brushed that thought away as it made no sense in comparison to the other abductions. The others had disappeared entirely, never to return or be found again. They did not return to destroy their ranks from within.

Tryailla Lilith's beautiful visage swam into his mind and he uncertainly remembered her mention of a betrayer amongst their kind. Perhaps this was what had happened. Perhaps Shinga had joined those who hunted them. What did trying to harm the Children have to do with testing the Thinkers? It made no sense.

As if she had been privy to his every thought, Ferra stopped her slow gait and let out a long, slow sigh. She looked up at the sky. "These are strange times," she said.

Watching her profile in the dim light of the waning moon, Kiran saw that there was no shock or anger upon her face. He found this apparent resignation much more sad than if she had been sobbing or raging. He struggled for words. Lately, he had found himself feeling much more like an adolescent Child than a Thinker of timelessness.

To his relief, Ferra spoke again, taking the burden of verbal thought from him. "We have been here for millions of years. Thousands of which have progressed with no change. We have lived each day like the last with very little difference. Perhaps we have forgotten what it is truly to think. Strange new events have been thrust upon us and we walk here in silence and shock. What has become of our thought? Perhaps we will all end up like Shinga, betraying our own kind because we are unable to see beyond ourselves."

Uncomfortably, Kiran stared at the ground trying to absorb her words but finding he was not sure where she was going with her musings. To his further discomfort, she stopped looking at the sky to observe his face as if his features held the answers.

"We cannot think of only ourselves, Kiran," she said.

He pulled back as if she had just slapped him as he vividly recalled their last dispute. "I told you that I am doing this for everyone. I'm sorry that I hurt your feelings by keeping you near me, but I wasn't only thinking of myself. I..." He was stammering and she knew it.

She smiled slightly, which bothered him only more. He felt she was mocking him, but for that her next words were completely unexpected.

"I love you, Kiran," she said simply before adding, "You were right. You know more about what is going on than any of our kind because of your friend. I think I was too hurt – thinking too much of myself – to see that what she has told you is the only information we have and, therefore, the only hope too." She looked down as if gathering strength for the next thing she was about to say. "I love you enough to accept that you do not feel the same way about me but I will stand by you with whatever is coming. I will support your wisdom and even the wisdom you gain from your new friend."

Kiran found that the events following this statement happened as though they had been planned and even practiced beforehand but he had not been informed. Ferra looked up towards the northern horizon and smiled faintly saying, "She is waiting for you."

He followed her gaze to see the slightly glowing form of Tryailla Lilith's beautiful human visage. She smiled welcomingly to him.

"Go to her," Ferra instructed. "She may have important news for you."

Looking around, Kiran realized how far from their home they were and how very much alone Ferra would be. He thought briefly of the crest but he was not only unsure if it would work for her but also acutely aware that it was not his to give and the owner now stood visibly in the distance.

Understanding his look, Ferra replied, "I will be alright. This is too important. Go with her."

He squeezed her hand in thanks and reluctantly left her alone to meet Tryailla Lilith.

Tryailla Lilith was still smiling at him warmly as he stopped in front of her.

"They will not come for her tonight," she assured him with her lyrical voice.

Rather than reassuring him, he became worried, "They are intending to come for her at all?"

Her expression turned grave. "They intend to come for all the Thinkers who show promise. The greatest of mothers makes the greatest of warriors."

"Warriors? They want us for an army?" The idea seemed ludicrous to him.

"You did not realize?" she asked. Before allowing him to answer, she continued, "That is what the test is. Those of your kind who are worthy will join our ranks to fight the final Gods' battle. That is why my kind has been created. That is why we exist. That is why this universe exists, to train to fight in the Gods' battle."

"Battle against what? What could our kind possibly help gods to fight?" he was getting angry at these presumptuous beings but trying to restrain his fury as not to lash out at the woman before him.

"They fight each other," she replied simply but he noticed her palms clench as she spoke.

This idea struck him as even more ludicrous. "Then why don't they fight each other and leave the rest of us out of it?" he vented.

"This is how they have chosen to settle their matters. The strongest army is of the strongest god." Her response was matter-of-fact, as though she could not comprehend an argument.

"You agree with this?" he demanded, wanting desperately to know that the woman who had chosen to show him mercy could not be so simplistic and violent.

She hesitated. "What I believe does not matter. There is no choice for my kind. No ability to go against what the gods demand," she said, her shoulders dropping slightly but noticeably.

"But you are going against them by helping me," he pointed out. "You told me that yourself. You are not supposed to be here."

This gave her pause and she stood in thought for many moments. "Perhaps it is this that worries them," she said more to herself.

Kiran felt a stab of fear. "They know you have gone against them?"

She shook her head, causing a deep swell of relief to wash over him. "They could not or I would have been destroyed by now. An angel can only exist through the grace of a god. Otherwise we are mortal and die," she explained.

"Angel?" he asked, feeling more and more like his brain and his vocabulary with it were leaving him.

She said, "That is what we call ourselves. We are the legions of the gods. Each legion existing through the grace of a different god in the Gods' war. There were once thousands of Gods but each battle has seen the destruction of many. There are only a few dozen left. Eventually, we will come to the last of the Gods' battles, when only two remain to fight. Those two will undoubtedly be the strongest and they must have the strongest army to win, to become the One God."

Kiran had been holding his breath and his words were barely louder than a whisper. "What happens then?"

"Truthfully, I do not think even the Gods know. It has never been before. There is rumour that, before the angels had been created, one became so powerful that he attempted to become the One God without having first defeated the others. It is said he had attempted to make the others his slaves. They rose up against him. There is no such god now, though I do not know what they did to him. Aside from that event, there has never been anything close to the One God though they all strive to have it."

"Where is their thought?" Kiran demanded. "Has it not occurred to them that their actions could lead to their own destruction?"

Tryailla Lilith nodded in agreement but said, "The gods are powerful. They are emotion at its strongest. Power does not automatically imply thought, my dear Kiran."

He felt a twinge of shame as, during this serious and important conversation, her mere uttering of his name had caused his heart to skip. Silently berating himself, he pushed the thought aside and said, "If these gods were able to destroy one of their own, what hope do we have?"

"I don't know," she said calmly before adding, "But there is something about you that has given them pause. That alone should give great hope. You would not exist to have this conversation otherwise."

He looked up at the sky, half-expecting to be struck down at that very moment. He stared at the expanse of stars, fully comprehending their vastness and wondering where these Gods were. How did they exist? What did they look like? What was the source of their power? He had precious little with which to judge them and that only worried him more. He jolted back to himself, realizing he had become lost in thought and that she was watching him intently.

"Tryailla Lilith," he began but she cut him off.

"That is my full name, yes," she informed him, "But you may simply call me Tryailla. Lilith is the name of my legion, the name of the Goddess whose grace allows me life."

Kiran could not help but sense a small bit of worry coming from her as she said it, as if she may have thought uttering the Goddess' name may alert the powerful being to her betrayal. He reminded himself that these Gods were possibly infinitely more powerful than the magical being that stood before him. The thought sent an involuntary shiver down his spine as the comprehension traveled until it had sunk deep into his bones.

"Why you have come tonight?" He asked. "Each time you have visited me, there has been a distinct purpose. This has felt more like a story telling of the past."

Her eyes danced with amusement. "Knowledge of history can have a great purpose, especially when it can help you prepare for the future," she said. Her smile broadened. "But, you are also wise. I did not come simply to tell you of the past, though our conversation has been enjoyable."

He felt his cheeks flush at her compliment.

"Walk with me," Tryailla instructed. "I do not walk upon this planet often. It would be nice to enjoy the scenery."

He found her simplistic wish endearing, but he could not hold back his pragmatism. "It is far too dark to see much scenery at all," he said.

There was that smile of hers again. She smiled so often and yet he could not seem to get enough of it. "I can see much more than you would think."

As they walked through the tall grasses, he noticed she was brushing the tops of the blades with the palm of her hand. It was as if her touch made the grass sing. Then he realized it was not just the grass but her as well. She hummed with a resonance that harmonized beautifully with the vibrations she created.

"It is sad that the gods have no more use for this creation than a battle ground," she lamented. "Perhaps we would not need to fight if they had learned how to enjoy their creations."

"You speak of them as if they are Children," he noted.

She did not look at him but smirked without mirth before saying, "Since I have been watching you, I have begun to feel that way. Your people have survived without threat to each other. You have worked together, maybe not always in love but never in hatred, always understanding a greater goal than yourselves." She heaved a profound sigh. "Until recently," she added.

"You're talking about the council meeting," he clarified to which she nodded.

"The betrayer amongst you will destroy your kind," she said. "I can't help but wonder if it has been your lack of hatred that has caused the Gods to watch you. They do not understand how thought can temper such a powerful emotion. Perhaps these events show that thought can only go so far."

"I refuse to believe that my people will end up like your Gods," Kiran retorted.

She nodded but said darkly, "They would never last that long."

"Is that why you have come tonight? To warn me of our destruction again?" As much as she entranced him, he was becoming impatient with the subject matter.

She stopped and turned to him. The breeze continued the grass' song even though her hand had stopped. Her hair swayed around her body.

As he looked into her eyes, he realized for the first time that she was not as tall as he had first thought. She was, in fact, the same height as he. How had he always come to feel like he had to look up to speak to her? Then he noticed she was not emanating her spectral light as much as when she had first arrived. In the darkness, he could still make out her features clearly but she seemed far less otherworldly. Her face was showing the signs of stress and she looked tired.

"You know the dangers," she answered his question that he had almost forgotten he had asked. "I do not need to warn you again. I came to tell you what you must do now that what I feared has truly come to pass."

"I will do whatever you ask of me," he vowed.

Her face softened. "You and Ferra are right to want to leave this place. It will be safer for you to be away from the betrayer."

"Ferra will not leave without the Children," he informed her.

She nodded. "I would expect no less from her. Do not be surprised if your theory proves correct. You must work on that task. When you are ready, you must leave this place and you must build a sanctuary."

He snorted with disbelief quite unintentionally. "A sanctuary from the Gods? If it were that simple, we wouldn't have any problems."

For the first time, Tryailla touched him. As she placed her hands upon his arms to steady him and force him to focus upon her, he felt a prickling of energy he had not felt since before taking corporeal form. In his current vessel of flesh, the sensation made his hair stand on end and his skin prickle.

"We are not trying to protect you from the gods, not yet. We are protecting you from your own kind and, hopefully, from my kind as well. We cannot overcome the Gods, but some of us are strong enough to overcome the other angels. That is the nature of being a warrior."

It did not fail his notice that Tryailla was beginning to look worried but he could not comfort her now. He felt lost himself. He said, "I don't know how to protect against your kind, or even my own for that matter. I've never had to do such a thing."

"My essence protects you from them." She reached down and touched the pouch containing the disk. She loosened the leather string that kept it shut and pulled out the disk. "My essence emanates from the crest and hides you from their eyes. You have kept the disk in this pouch so long, that even its cloth may be able to protect you now. It has been impregnated with my essence so thoroughly that it resonates as strongly as the crest itself. When you are ready to take your tribe to a new planet, call for me. I will teach you how to make the necessary barriers from that same essence. This is about you surviving." She searched his eyes for comprehension of her words. "Remember, Kiran. You cannot tell any other than Ferra the truth of this. It is imperative that they remain ignorant for it is their best protection for the time being."

"Why me? Why trust me?" he asked simply but it was a profound question born out of what Ferra had said during their last argument.

Tryailla straightened and turned from him. Her voice was uncharacteristically stony as she said, "You are not like the others. You could never have been the betrayer."

His gut tightened. Instinctively, he stepped forward, reaching out to her with the intent of comfort. His hand was about to wrap around her back, his fingers tantalizingly close to brushing her skin, when she whirled to face him. Her eyes were the picture of panic, causing him to step backwards. She clutched her crest more strongly before grasping his arm with her free hand.

"I must leave," she announced without explanation. "Call for me when you are ready. Promise!" Her last order was nearly shouted into his face.

He nodded slowly, trying desperately to understand what was going on and fully intending to make her explain. However, she was gone the moment he nodded. There had been no comforting words or pleasant good-byes. He could not help but feel somewhat cheated.

Looking around, he realized that she had left him far from his people and completely alone with no crest for protection. She had not been sure the pouch would be protection enough, only theorized it. It was this last thought that had shaken him from his stunned trance and made him place one foot in front of the other to return to Ferra. He broke into a run but remembered nothing of his journey back to the village as his mind raced against whatever could have turned the vision Tryailla into a panicked mess.

* * *

Lapidus stood in the cave entrance and watched Ashyina disappear into the forest. It had been many hours since the meeting had ended. Shinga too had long since disappeared into the woods. Ashyina, Akym, Gringa, Igella and he had stayed around the fire in quiet shock for most of the evening. Kiran and Ferra had left in silence to return home. Avorlig had attempted to speak with Ashyina who was pretending he did not exist. Lapidus could only assume it was because she did not feel like having Avorlig smugly remind her that he was right.

As the fire died down, they had waited for Ventha to return from fetching Gryp but there was no sign of them. The others assumed they had decided to return home after all and either followed suit or found their own place to sleep for the night.

Lapidus could not help be uncomfortably reminded of his own disappearance a year before and wondered if the woods had taken more victims. There were so many threats so suddenly. How could they kind have begun to fall apart so easily?

They had once existed together almost like a single entity. There were no such disagreements and by no means any such deception or maliciousness as had manifested itself in Shinga. It was a sad time for his people and he hoped that they would find their way back to whom they had been once more.

His mind drifted in and out of other things, not always forming coherent thoughts. Finally, his mind reached its inevitable destination of the dark haired woman. Letting out a thick sigh, he rubbed his face with his rough hands.

Her face had been permanently etched inside his brain. He shook his head again, trying to regain his senses and beginning to contemplate whether he should simply sit by the fire and sleep or head for the forest.

Since the issues with Shinga had arisen, he had not attempted to replicate the conditions of his abduction, having had too much on his mind already.

Just as he was thinking the warm fire was much more inviting, he heard it. A long, vibrating note of a voice that sounded nearly human but not quite. It did not have the same comforting quality of a howl and yet he would not have been surprised to have heard it amongst similar calls in a chorus. Looking around, he realized there was no one around him to confirm if the sound was really there.

The note vibrated but did not change and yet it felt like a melody that was too compelling to ignore. It called to him. Though he was sure he could physically deny the urge to find the source of the sound, he was also sure that the haunting song would never again leave him if he did not submit to it. He reverted, left the entrance of the cave, and walked southward along the edge of the eastern woods as he followed it.

He had not realized how late it was and only now saw that the first light of dawn was on the horizon. However, the light was still dim enough that it had not yet penetrated the dense forest canopy.

As the song called him into the trees, he found himself relying more upon it than his senses of sight or touch to navigate the undergrowth. After only a moment, he was fully immersed within the forest and saw light ahead of him. Without a doubt, he knew it was the source of the song.

Having the source within sight, he wanted to break into a run and make his way to it as fast as possible and yet the song kept him walking at a steady pace. He focused his eyes upon the light, trying his best to make out what it was as he approached.

It was every possibility of thought, emotion, or being. It had no limitation to its form or its purpose.

He must have been an old, dying dog when he broke into the clearing. His body felt arthritic and sore as though he had been doing too little or too much with his muscles and joints. The ache distracted him. It took his vision another moment to refocus and realize what stood before him.

The dark-haired woman faced him. Her lithe body just as it appeared in his nightly torture was covered in a thin gray sleeveless garment that fell down her curves. Her eyes pierced him, laying bare his entirety of thought before her. It took great effort to notice that she was holding some kind of musical instrument made of a series of open wooden pipes.

Much to his disappointment, she was not alone. On either side of her stood a figure. He could not have said human as neither being appeared as such but nor could they be simply described as any one animal. To her left stood a mostly human woman with long blond hair. Her eyes appeared white to him but something about the inclination of her head told him she could see him clearly. This woman had feet that resembled the talons of a large bird of prey and the long tail of a snake. From her back sprouted large wings with patches of soft feathers and patches of deep scars. Under one eye was a deep gash that did not bleed but nor did it appear to be healing. In one hand she held a long spear and in the other a disk.

The being on the right of his dark-haired woman was difficult to recognize. It looked like a person so old and decrepit that its saggy skin resembled a large slug covered in warts and boils and wearing robes that were too small except for the overly-large hood. From the dark hollow of shadow created by the hood, he could see no face and only the random spray of wiry gray and white hair that shot out past the edges. Unsure of what to make of this strange being, he looked to his beautifully lady.

She was not smiling as she appeared to evaluate him. For the first time since he had begun to regain his abilities, he felt self-conscious. He would change form to appear more presentable if he were not inexplicably frozen to the spot. As he attempted to speak to the woman of his visions, he found that he had no voice, not even a Wolf's howl. His mouth did not move as he wanted and no vocalisations made it passed his lips.

The dark-haired woman lifted the small instrument to her lips and blew delicately across the tops of the openings. What met his ears was more of the strange music and yet he found it sounded more and more like speech. Suddenly, with the great smack of an epiphany to his forehead, he could hear what she was saying to him. Once her words made sense to him, she stopped playing the flute but continued to speak without the use of her mouth.

"Lapidus, great Wolf of the Thinkers and hunter of stags, we have come to fetch you, one who shows promise."

He could not help but feel disappointed that she was running an errand and was not here to give him company of her own volition. As he was still bound from speech, he could not voice this thought even if he had wanted. Instead, he simply watched without trying to come to too many conclusions

His dark-haired woman was impassive. There was no point in trying to assess the mood of the slug but the other figure, the blond woman, seemed woefully distracted.

He felt his skin tingle. The sensation grew and moved deeper into his body.

His dark-haired woman was suddenly kneeling before him. After several moments, her eyes softened and a slight smile spread across her lips. Her face was so close. Her lips so enticing and so near, if he could only transform.

She parted them so delicately and said, "For Her glory, you must prove your worth."

The clearing was gone. The forest was gone. The three figures were gone.

The pang of disappointment would have stung much more if he were not now suspended in a cloud of white mist. His mind raced but he had trouble focusing. Remembering his own name felt as though it might slip through his consciousness if he did not force himself to focus upon it.

Was this another tortuous dream? Another night of having the only one he wanted ripped from his grasp? His mind had certainly achieved new lows in tormenting him. Nevertheless, he grasped at the torment as the impending abyss stalked him from some unseen hiding place.

It could not have been a dream. He could feel a breeze through his fur and when he bit his tongue, he felt the pain acutely. His body began to change without his will and within moments he was fully human.

He never stopped examining his surroundings. As he spun around, the mist cleared, leaving ever more definite forms and sounds in its wake. He heard whispers, then shouts, then cheers and screams. He was on the top of a large hill and surrounded by thousands of people. As far as he could see there was no variation to the landscape below him, only a sea of figures as contorted and battered as the winged lady in the clearing. All carried weapons. All had eyes filled with blood lust focused entirely upon him. He swallowed and muttered an expletive under his breath, hoping dearly that the pain of his tongue could be this vivid in a dream.

The monsters below him did not charge despite how starved they appeared to be for his blood. It was as if an invisible barrier held them back. Then he noticed one figure break from the ranks and ascend the hill towards him

The dark-haired woman walked slowly, keeping each step deliberate. In each hand, she held a spear like all the rest in the sea of beings. It was blue like the stars with an octahedron tip that looked like crystal. She was not as delicately clad as she had appeared to him only moments before. Her body and thighs were covered in firm armour that he could only liken to the hide of a Dragon. The thought did not give him comfort.

A band of leather was tied around her left arm and her hair was secured behind her head. Large wings, as battered and bruised as those of the blond monster, attached at her shoulder blades. It was after seeing the state of her wings that he noticed scars upon her face and limbs. He had never noticed those in his dreams. He knew what they meant.

She stopped at the top of the hill, only a short distance from him. Her face was defiant with her jaw set hard but he noted her eyes were not as clearly defined in their emotion. She threw one of the spears to him and he caught it.

It was a strange thing. It was light in his hand but as soon as he tried to move it, it felt heavy as though he were trying to guide it through sludge.

The dark-haired woman seemed to have noticed, her eyebrow lifting ever so faintly. She lifted her own into the air and twirled it as if it had been nothing more than a twig. Then, grasping it tightly, she held it high in the air to the cheers of the masses below.

"For her glory!" She yelled.

She did not charge him or throw the spear at him, but her first surprising attack had told him the battle had started. Within the flash of an eye, she shot around him like a whirlwind and was already standing where she had started, staring at him, before he realized what had happened. He felt like his heart dropped out of his stomach and became consumed by inexplicable hopelessness. He looked down at his arm that held the spear. It was vibrating so severely he was convinced the frequency would shatter his entire being to pieces. The spear was the source of his shaking. The vibration got stronger and stronger as he tried to ease it, holding the shaft more tightly, but it did not cease. When he was sure the vibration had peaked, it felt as though his energies were a cloth wrapped around him and they were quickly ripped off his body through his arm. As it impacted the spear, the octahedron tip cracked and a pyramidal chip fell from one of the top sides. His hopelessness became marginally less suffocating.

Looking up at his attacker, he saw that she was smirking at the result. She had attacked the spear. It seemed that had been her intent all along. He was now also sure that this first attack had been a demonstration of how the game was played more than intent to defeat him.

He tried to figure out how to overcome her speed. He had no hope against such an enemy and as he looked into those gray eyes, he realized that he had no desire either.

Had this woman haunted his dreams to taunt him, knowing he would be defeated? Her smile, her laugh of his silent memories, all came back to him and he could not believe her the same being. At the very least, he could not believe the one he sought could be a cold-hearted warrior intent on his death. As his heart warred with his mind, another fragment of his spear tip flaked away with an even stronger pull at his energies. He stared at the new wound in shock.

The dark-haired woman threw back her head and laughed before addressing the hoard surrounding the hill. "It appears I need not fight this warrior at all. These Thinkers so easily defeat themselves."

Her insult chipped another flake from his weapon but the feeling of more of his energies ripping away also turned his heart cold. He would not let her mock him like this.

"To the death," he seethed and his hatred drew her attention.

She regarded him much more seriously now. "For her glory, it cannot be any other way," she replied. Her tone was defiant but for a moment, he could have sworn her eyes flashed doubt.

However, she had fought this way before, her scars proved it, and her momentary lapse was quickly controlled before any damage could be done to her own weapon. These repeated glimpses of something deeper, a wish to lay down her arms, gave him pause but she would not let him feel despair this time.

"Fight me, Lapidus," she whispered loud enough for only him to hear. "Show all here what a good toy you have been for me."

He lunged at her, trying to hit the tip of her spear. She laughed as she jumped back and easily evaded it.

"You are a Thinker, Lapidus," she taunted. "You should be able to think past corporeal terms better than that."

She lunged at him and he felt the full force of a hurricane against his front as her wings beat powerfully before him. He tried to wrap himself around the spear while also protecting his head with his arms. His feet slid upon the ragged earth and he struggled to hold his ground but he refused to give in to her. He refused to let her get another blow upon the spear. As determined as he could be, he protected the tip.

She laughed again and he could not see why she would for she had ceased the onslaught without having succeeded in damaging the spear. "Perhaps you are able to learn after all," she called. "Such strong determination is difficult to pierce."

It was then that he comprehended what was going on. She was attacking the spear, yes, but it was her attempts to reach the weapon that allowed her to break him. He had no doubt that if she succeeded to destroy what he held, it would mean he too was gone.

She came at him again, not letting him curl up like a terrified animal this time. Grabbing his back with unexpected strength, she whipped him across the hilltop so that he fell painfully upon the spear. When he attempted to stand, he saw that not only was his spear missing several more pieces, but also the sharp tip had pierced him under the ribs. He groaned in pain as but climbed to his feet. Dabbing at the blood with his palm, he muttered another expletive before concentrating upon his own form to close the wound. As it healed, he heard the woman's mocking voice again.

"Do you think such physical resilience will save you?"

He said nothing but glared at her. These games had driven him to the end of his patience. Whatever he had felt for this woman had now transformed into rage. It was no longer about the spears.

As she came at him again, he feinted wrapping around his weapon once more. When he knew she was just about to grab him, he uncoiled and stabbed his weapon into her abdomen between her floating ribs. All his agonies and stresses seemed to flow through his arm, out of him, and into her wound.

His eyes locked on hers as she fell on top of him. The top of her spear shattered but for one small point that remained. Her face slumped upon his shoulder.

As he stood in shock, barely noticing that he still held her weight, she whispered in his ear, "I am glad you won. You are alive but my Goddess will never let you be free... I am sorry."

As her body fell to the ground, Lapidus became profoundly aware of the wind in his ears. It was not wind. The cheers of the warriors below were deafening.

He did not move. He stared blankly at the pure white sky above him as the wave of conflicted thoughts and emotions buffeted his soul. What on earth had just happened?

The blond monster stood before him.

"Lapidus," she called in a voice loud enough to quell the cheers of the army below. "You have proven yourself in our second test. You will be returned home until She has chosen your third. You will not remember this but we will come for you again. Your skill has honoured us, brother," she bowed her head to him.

His mind still rung with horror as the mist returned and swirled around him until all was silent and cloudy and his body reverted once more. He awoke on the forest floor, still in traumatized shock. Slowly, he began to blink away the numbness.

Judging by the light, it was not much later than when he had followed the song. The sun was nearly up but only just. Changing form, he felt his ribs hurt where he had been hit but there was no blood. His chest and his stomach now hurt worse from the tight knot they had formed.

The blond monster had been wrong. He did not forget. He could not have forgotten the death of those gray eyes. They would haunt him for ever.

## Chapter 9

Akym and Gringa had waited until the morning after the council meeting to return home. The trauma that the events had caused amongst the members had not spared even Akym. He did feel, however, that he was handling the events much better that those closest to the culprit.

Ashyina had not returned to the cave by morning and Lapidus staggered in, looking like he had been beaten and grumbling incoherent words that they could only assume might have been a greeting. As it seemed their presence was no longer appreciated, Akym and Gringa returned home with the full intent of having breakfast with their own people. It was with great surprise and irritation, therefore, that they returned to find Kiran and Ferra awaiting them near the waterfall.

"Has something else happened?" Akym asked without greeting them first. To his relief, they both shook their heads.

"Nothing like that," Kiran said gruffly. "We wanted to discuss some theories with you."

This caught Akym entirely off guard. Kiran had never wanted to discuss much with him. In fact, Akym had always had the impression that Kiran disliked him and his work. Any other time he would have sat with them eagerly and wasted no time in debating whatever ideas they had brought him. As it was, his growling stomach reminded him that it had been almost a full day since he had last had food. Even he had to accept that nourishment was more important.

"Can it wait until after we've eaten?" he asked.

Ferra nodded but Kiran looked irritated. Ferra elbowed him in the side– far from discretely– causing him to nod in agreement as well.

The others had been up for several hours and had a large assortment of nuts and fruits already gathered. Within moments, Akym and Gringa were eating the remains heartily while they sat next to the water, Gringa dangling her toes in the cold liquid.

To Akym's surprise, Kiran settled next to him and waited patiently for them to finish eating. Ferra sat next to him and looked somewhat nervous as she was staring at her fingers and fiddling them. Akym felt his eyebrow rise involuntarily and forced it down with a finger before returning to his food.

When he had finished, he leaned forward and shook his hands under the surface of the water to wash off the fruit juices that had run down his wrists. With a dramatic shake in the air, he dried them. He cringed when he noticed some droplets had sprayed Kiran, who was now glaring mutinously at Ferra. She smiled feebly back at him but said nothing. With slightly less flourish, Akym settled back down to face them and asked what they come to discuss.

Ferra opened her mouth to speak but Kiran answered first. "We wanted to know if you or any of your kind had ever teleported with someone."

Akym shook his head vaguely, not quite understanding the question, and said, "Of course we have. You saw yourselves when Gringa and I were teaching you the technique. We both teleported to the same place at the same time."

Kiran took a breath as if gathering patience. "That isn't what I meant. Ferra and I have done that as well. We were wondering if any of you have been able to take someone with you. Someone who is entirely unable to teleport and who has no knowledge of the destination."

Both Akym's eyebrows went up this time and he made no effort to hide the gesture. "What would you need that ability for?"

"For the Children," Ferra replied. "It occurred to us that if there were ever a danger that needed to be evaded, such as a particularly dangerous storm for instance, that teleportation might be the easiest way to reach safety. The young ones may not have had the time to master the skill yet."

He thought for many moments, absent-mindedly scratching his chin as he did so. He felt Gringa shift at his back. She had still been eating her breakfast and had appeared unconcerned with their conversation at first. Now, she was still and he could tell that she too was beginning to consider what they were saying. After several moments, it was indeed Gringa and not Akym who replied.

"Could you not move the earth to create an adequate shelter?" she offered. "You could create a mighty protection without any need to flee."

"But what if we require the ability to leave in such a manner?" Ferra countered, "Wouldn't it be best to have it and never need it, than need it and never have it?"

Before Akym or Gringa could reply, Kiran interrupted, "I don't care to debate the best ways to deal with each situation. I asked you a question. All I need to know is your answer."

Akym stuck his lower lip out as he often did when evaluating something unexpected. "I don't see why you would need it," he said, "But no, none of us has ever even attempted such a thing. As a matter of fact, the idea had never occurred to us before you asked." He turned to Gringa. "Perhaps we should try it to see what might happen?" He suggested.

She looked at him sternly and said, "Not with the unskilled until you already know for sure. We aren't having any accidents because your curiosity outweighs."

He brushed her comment away and turned back to Kiran. "We shall inform you when we have some conclusions." He stood, gesturing for the others to follow.

Kiran linked his arms tightly across his chest once he was flatfooted.

"And we will inform you if we learn anything," Ferra offered to which Kiran glares at her.

Akym was too delighted at these words to care what was making Kiran so angry. "Of course!" he nearly squealed. "Finally, other members of the council are regaining some enthusiasm for the unexplored."

Gringa walked next to him and rolled her eyes in an exaggerated motion but was smiling.

They exchanged pleasant good-byes and Akym and Gringa watched as Kiran and Ferra's forms disappeared.

* * *

"You could have been nicer," Ferra complained once they were back amongst the tall grasses of savannah.

"I told you I didn't want to talk to him," Kiran raged. "And look what happened. A complete waste of time!"

"I wouldn't say that," she replied thoughtfully. "They are going to try it too. We may have better success with us all trying it."

"He asks too many questions," Kiran said. "You nearly told him why we needed to know. No one else can know of Tryailla. She is in great danger helping us."

Ferra's eyes narrowed showing her irritation with his accusation. "I did not almost tell them," she defended. "I didn't see you coming up with any good excuses."

He stopped walking and let out a long breath that he only now realized he had been holding. "I'm sorry but Tryailla's visit and abrupt departure have me worried. Who knows how much time we have. We may all be dead before we are ready to call her back."

He almost jumped as Ferra placed a delicate hand on his arm and looked into his eyes. "It will be alright," she said quietly. "As terrified as I am, we can start experimenting today. This is too important now to wait."

He reached up and squeezed her hand. He hoped she understood how much he appreciated her help.

* * *

Barjl paced the shore of the small pond, steaming with anger. He had not slept as any attempt was foiled by the rapid heartbeat and pounding head of his fury.

Once Shinga had left the cave after the meeting, she came to fetch him and Arken. Through an eerily stony demeanour, she told them what had happened in the meeting. More importantly, she revealed what Ashyina had whispered into her ear.

She had admitted fully and arrogantly that she had indeed known Shinga had been telling the truth but had persecuted her anyway.

He was so wrapped up in his own feelings that he could not find the changes in Shinga troubling. Her heart had become cold. She had always seemed fragile but in those few hours had become hardened and unforgiving.

She sat on the opposite shore of the pond getting Arken to assist her in ridding herself of the last of her Wolf traits. He was proving to be a kind and effective teacher. Her ears now looked entirely human and entirely hairless. She had moved onto cradling a rock in her hand as Arken attempted to explain how it felt to mold the earth into other forms.

"How can you worry about such things at a time like this?" Barjl demanded, realizing too late that he was being unfair.

She lowered her hands, slowly wrapping her fingers around the stone. She stared straight ahead for many moments. He could see the chest of her robes rise and fall with deep, steady breaths. Then, slowly, she turned her face to him. It was completely unreadable. No frown or smile. He was becoming convinced that the council had attempted some experiment on her.

When she spoke, her voice was even but there was hatred beneath it; not hatred for him, but for the matter at hand.

"I have no choice," she said evenly. "I have no hope of overcoming Ashyina to get my justice. I cannot live amongst them after what they have done to me but nor could I survive if I left on my own given my current limitations. I appreciate your loyalty to me, Barjl. I am indebted to both of you for listening to me and believing me but even the two of you, despite your former status and popularity amongst our kind, have been unable to help me."

Her eyes locked on his and the force behind them was so powerful he wanted to cower before her but her eyes would not let him do anything more than stand perfectly still.

"I will get my justice," she continued. "Ashyina will be punished for what she has done and learn of the pain she has put me through and if going after her Children is the only way I can accomplish that. So be it."

Barjl stared at her uncomfortably for many moments. "What do you plan to do?" He finally asked.

She lifted up the stone again and examined it as she explained, "Master my abilities more strongly than any of our kind before us. They have chosen me because I am weak. They will cower before my strength. Ashyina will pay."

Arken was looking at the forest floor. In her current state, Shinga was terrifying and Barjl could tell that Arken was avoiding drawing attention to himself. His eyes flicked back to Shinga.

"Shinga," Barjl said as kindly as he could, "I agree with you. I agree those involved should be punished. By my own hands, I want to help you get that revenge. I will rip Avorlig's throat out myself and hold it before his dying eyes but you sound as if you plan to go after others too. This has to end somewhere. We can't punish our entire race for the actions of a few."

She glared at him. "Can't we?" Jumping to her feet, she rounded the pond. She walked towards him as if circling prey. Her eyes remained locked upon his the entire time. "Tell me this, Barjl. Which race's representatives defended me in that council meeting? Which ones demanded that I – at the very least – be allowed to speak?"

He wanted to look down and avoid her gaze but she was inches from him now, her insane stare refusing to relinquish his. There was no need to vocalize the answer.

"They all adore Ashyina," she continued. "They all bow to her and trust her unfailingly. And why? Because she is the one who came up with this idea. She is the founder of our prisons and for some twisted reason she has been raised up for it. I am seeing clearly now, Barjl. I am not the one with the damaged thought. They are. They are the ones too consumed by their self-love, their adoration of their great work, to see the truth of what has been created. Look at Arken!" She gestured towards his son who was very determinedly not looking up.

"He is an anomaly Barjl," she said. "You and I are anomalies as well. We see what is wrong. We still understand what it is to be together, to work as one and care for each other as one. "

More boldly than he had felt in several minutes, he said, "Yes. I do understand what is wrong. I also understand that not all the Children were involved and that not all the Thinkers were involved either. Even those council members who attended but had no other information cannot be entirely blamed." Upon seeing her eyes darken, he quickly added, "Though they are still more at fault than any others for not even allowing you an adequate audience. I will help you get your justice, Shinga, but you have to promise me that is where it will end. For Thought's sake, I have more Children than just Arken!"

His last words appeared to have given her pause. She pulled back and contemplated them for a moment. When she next spoke, her voice was much more like the woman he remembered.

"I'm sorry," she offered. "I just want the whole world to understand because no one does. No one understands what they have done to me. No one cares to know the depth of evil that has emerged amongst our own kind!"

He wrapped his arms around her and held her close, not failing to notice that Arken was appearing much more comfortable now. "I understand and I care," he crooned low. "We will take care of Avorlig and Ashyina. Such betrayal cannot be allowed another breath. We will even take care of the Children responsible. You are right that they are abominations. Something must have gone wrong for them to be capable of such actions. Such degradation of thought cannot be allowed to exist. But to go after innocents as well, that is only something Ashyina would do."

She pulled away and looked at him. He had expected her to appear more upset, more tearful like she often had in the past or even the new anger she had found, but her face was calm and her eyes clear.

"Thank you," she said calmly. Then, she turned back to Arken. "We must continue my lessons if we are to achieve any of this. I have no hope of overcoming them in my current state." She reached up and felt her hairless ears. "At least I am making progress," she added cheerfully.

Arken smiled back. "You just needed to stop thinking about disappointing the others. You are fully capable," he said.

She smiled at his praise but it was not the carefree smile she had once had in the delusional days of love with Ashyina. Her eyes were no longer filled with innocence, love, or joy. They held nothing but pain and hatred.

He had meant what he said. He would rip out that old Hawk's throat with his own claws. For Shinga, he would hold back the urge until she was ready to accompany him, but when that day came, he would draw the greatest joy from watching Avorlig's eyes lose their thought.

## Chapter 10

It was late summer, nearly fall, before Shinga gave Barjl his wish. She had spent the last several months overcoming her deficiencies. Thanks to Arken's diligent efforts, she had learned how to change easily back and forth from her Wolf state and had even developed her own silver robes to cover her human form. As much as she hated to admit it, there had been some truth to what Ashyina had said about her struggling due to her self-deprivation of regeneration. It only took her not having anything else to lose to attempt it.

Once she had gained more confidence, the rest had come with little struggle. It did not take long for her to learn how to teleport herself and even less time to learn how to manipulate the form of the earth and even water. Most recently, she had felt slight success in pushing the winds to her will. This particular gift she had yet to share with her comrades.

The time had come. Barjl suspended Avorlig by his throat against the inside wall of his hut. She looked around at those who had joined them.

She was no longer alone. Barjl and Arken had always been there for her but the complete consternation with which others had treated her had always made her feel alone. Now, her small band felt like her true family. She was sure they were as loyal as a family should be. They were held together by a bond stronger than blood. They were held together by shared tragedy and violence.

An unfortunate consequence of Avorlig and Ashyina's deceit was that the Children they had manipulated to do such an awful deed had become intoxicated by their first brush with malicious animalism. Once the council meeting had become forgotten in the minds of the masses, once they knew they were safe from punishment, they had not been content to hold back their newly discovered power. They had attacked several of their peers, male and female, experimenting in their warped world.

Shinga had not known about these events until the first of them, a petite young woman named Uri, came stumbling and crying to her side. Uri had been beside herself with fear and unsure of what else to do. Realizing that there would likely be more victims, Shinga promised vengeance to any who sought her solace. In return, they promised allegiance. They had learned quite sadly that Ashyina did not care about her own Children as much as she had claimed. Mysteriously and quite inexplicably, Ashyina – and sometimes even Avorlig – seemed to appear in time to prevent the victims from sharing their stories with others. They too joined the ranks of the discredited; painted as impressionable youth being seduced by fanaticism that promised power that Children, whether thinking or not, would never otherwise be afforded.

Shinga had hoped the contradictory propaganda would become apparent, as Ashyina would tell anyone who would listen what Shinga had said in the council meeting. The Children are abominations. Yet, Shinga's new family contained only two Thinkers among them; her and Barjl. Unfortunately, all those not already amongst her ranks were content to believe Ashyina's explanations. Perhaps the truth was simply too ugly.

When the new attacks began, Barjl had pleaded with her to act, to help him destroy Avorlig and Ashyina before more could be hurt. He was distraught enough about more people being hurt but he had also begun to voice his concerns that the attacks could escalate in their grotesqueness. As much as she agreed with him, she knew she was not ready.

She had yet to master her ability to manipulate the earth as easily as the others at that point. She knew there was no point in acting if Avorlig and Ashyina could escape or overcome her to silence the truth for another generation. As gut wrenching as it had been, she held back but redoubled her efforts to master her skills as quickly as possible, while Barjl and Arken had done their best to lurk in the shadows, monitoring the violators and attempting to intervene whenever they could. As the first golden leaves appeared on the trees despite the unusually hot days, they needed to wait no longer.

They planned to exact their revenge upon Avorlig and the rapists first. Ashyina would have to wait. Shinga needed to ensure she suffered. Her end would not be nearly as quick as the old fool's.

It had been Barjl's suggestion that they take care of Avorlig before any others. They did not want him interfering in their future plans. He was probably a much greater threat to them than they could adequately determine and they needed such an unpredictable enemy out of the way so that all other matters progressed smoothly.

Of course, Shinga also suspected Barjl had made the suggestion simply because his blood lust would not be placated with excuses any longer. He did seem to be quite euphoric with his clenched fingers digging into the man's flesh. He was sneering and apparently whispering threats into Avorlig's face. She could not hear his words but she could see his lips moving in speech.

The last of their small group, made up of herself, Arken, and three young men and two young women, entered the hut. There was the dark-haired, meek and now ever silent Uri; an equally petite woman with golden brown hair and green eyes named Fenda; the mammoth though timid Diurd whose eyes often squinted too much to see his irises and one could see nothing of his hair except a dark stubble due to his frequent use of a blade upon it; a dark-haired and dark-eyed boy who was only in the midst of his adolescence, named Worga; and Bistell, a tall and lanky man in his early twenties who had blond hair and blue eyes and was slightly dim witted when left to his own devices.

Shinga had been waiting for them to finish inspecting the surrounding forests, wanting to ensure that Avorlig had no nearby visitors before they began their task. Now that they had all assembled, Shinga felt ready to begin. Slowly, she walked up to Avorlig, noting his feet were several inches from the ground. She intended to impart some information upon him before his body was maimed.

"Look at these young faces, Avorlig," she began, gesturing to those who had just joined them and speaking in a sweet tone that had to cover too much hatred to be convincing. "Look at those whose lives you cast aside for your own ego. These Children were accepted amongst our kind as perfectly capable Thinkers. In fact, most of them here were held up as examples to my lack of skill for they had once surpassed me. You cared nothing for them when your own desires were threatened. It seems to me that you care nothing for thought that is not your own."

She stared into his wide eyes, wondering if he would respond but was not surprised that he refused.

"Perhaps I should thank you," she continued. "If you had not tortured me with your sickening ideas, I would not have realized what is truly important. I would not have realized that it is our thought that is pure and it is yours that is degraded and weak. I will tell you what is going to happen, Avorlig." She turned her back from him and paced the small hut slowly as she explained, "I cannot destroy what remains of your thought no matter how twisted it has become on its own and nor can any of those gathered here. Sadly, I cannot give what is the only adequate response to such treachery. For today, your body will have to be enough." She stopped and looked into his eyes once more. She wanted to see the comprehension upon his face as she moulded the world to her liking and her terms.

"When your body is decaying in this hut, beckoning to the truly wild animals that need fattening for the winter, your followers will be given the punishments they most justly deserve. Each of us here who has been wronged will be given the pleasure of bringing our fury down upon them. We will cleanse our kind of the sickness you have brought to it. We will heal our people and hone our skills. By the time your next incarnation remembers who you are, by the time you have learned how to find your human body once more, I will be able to destroy your thought. Be sure of that, Avorlig. Be sure that I will have my justice and you will have your punishment. For the good of all Thinkers, we will destroy your aberrant ways and there will be no Ashyina to help you."

She walked up to him, lifting her chin so that her face was only inches from his. She did not fail to notice that Barjl had already drawn blood simply from the pressure of his fingernails in just the right locations to prevent unconsciousness or death. She examined his wrinkled face and felt a small growth of satisfaction in her chest. He was simply a feeble old animal after all.

"I have one wish for you Avorlig," she taunted low. "I want you to remember me. Remember this moment as your first thought after your rebirth. Let my face haunt your dreams. Live in terror until I find you again and am able to remove you from existence." She smiled at him broadly, quite satisfied.

Turning, she observed the Children gathered and understood completely their angered expressions focused upon their captive. They saw nothing else. They wanted to witness the death of the man who had been responsible for their torment. She did not need that luxury. It felt premature to indulge in such an act. As much as she hated Avorlig, he was not the prize she wanted. She walked from the hut hearing the sounds of ripping flesh and the screams of an old fool as her new pack tore him apart.

* * *

Ashyina awoke to terrified screams. She scrambled to her feet but had difficulty finding her bearings. It had been one of the unusual nights she had slept around the main cave's fire. It had been quite unintentional and she had been unable, therefore, to alter the earth into a more hospitable bed before losing consciousness. The rock she had inevitably used as a pillow had not permitted restful comfort. She was fighting a pounding headache while forcing her pads to elongate into fingers when Lapidus appeared abruptly in the cave mouth, yelling for her to come with him.

It felt as though she were still dreaming, having some strange nightmare as he dragged her along into the blinding sun. Her mind was beginning to clear but her vision was slow to follow. She saw something large in the fields to the south but could not make out more than a blurry silhouette of a complicated shape she could not identify.

When Lapidus stopped abruptly, still quite some distance from the shape, she nearly toppled forward and had to make a great effort to fight her momentum so that she could pull herself upright. Taking a deep breath, she lifted her hand to shield her eyes from the unrelenting sun. It was then that she was able to make out the horror that had greeted the others as they awoke. It was then that she felt her heart and her lungs drop into her feet and it was then that she knew she would never cease to have nightmares for several more lifetimes.

In the middle of the normally lush, rolling field was a megalithic structure she had never seen before but had obviously been made by Thinker skill. The earth and rock appeared to have shot out of the ground to form a large, rough, stone arch. It was not especially tall but it was long, creating a wide opening. Up the posts of the arch and curled around the top as if they had naturally grown that way were long thick vines. In the opening, suspended by the vines, were eight bodies that she recognized as those who had been involved in the attack upon Shinga. They hung limply and the obvious abuse to their bodies showed that their deaths had not been quick or easy.

They had been beaten to the point of dark bruises upon all their limbs and bodies. Lacerations were visible in random locations as well. However, it was the most grotesque wound that was now sending many of her kin running for the woods or heaving in the grass. Their male genitalia had been, very roughly, ripped from their bodies so that only a bloody, mangled mess remained.

As unfortunate as their fates had been, the eight had been lucky. It was the tallest of them all who had received the worst fate and as the reality of the situation began to penetrate the shock, Ashyina realized the poor man was still alive.

His genitalia had been given the same treatment as those of his friends. However, he had not been given a quick hanging. In front of the arch, the rocky earth jutted up in a series of tall, narrow, and pointed columns. His body had been impaled upon the central and tallest pole and left to hang there until he died the longest and most excruciating death.

Ashyina ran to him, calling for help from those around but all appeared too terrified to move. It was Lapidus that ran to her aid. She wanted to lift the body from the pole, to help ease the boy's pain. She knew in her heart that it was already too late. He was far enough gone that even his writhing was now listless and limp as all he could do now was groan. She was about to lift his shoulders when Lapidus placed a hand upon her arm. Looking into his eyes searchingly, she realized what he was trying to indicate. Moving him now would only intensify his pain and he was beyond help.

Lapidus began examining the structure while Ashyina grasped the young man's hands and looked into his face. She had brought this upon him. If she had never consented to Avorlig's plan, this would not have happened. These young men would never have been the object of Shinga's loathing.

Her touch roused the boy and he screamed with a hoarse agonizing sound that indicated he had been screaming in this state for many hours. How had no one heard him? Then, his mouth began to move in small gestures and she could have sworn he was trying to talk. She leaned over him, putting her ear as close to his mouth as she could. He had already been in mid-sentence but his rasped whisper was clear enough to make out the rest.

"... Their deaths, our pain will not be silenced." The words were a great effort for him despite how feebly they emerged from his lips.

She pulled back and stared down at his suffering. He was barely more than an adolescent. Lapidus was at her elbow now, his dagger in his right hand.

"He should not continue to suffer. We cannot help him," he offered morosely.

Ashyina nodded in agreement and stood back to allow Lapidus room to complete the task.

Lapidus did not approach him immediately but walked to one of the shorter jutting columns. With a powerful kick, he broke the shaft at its base. With a face of stone, he quickly and nimbly hooked the man's arms around the detached pole to pull his arms back, spreading his chest. Pushing the man's head to the side, Lapidus wasted not a second more before driving the dagger into his head behind his right ear. Any evidence of tension, agony, and strain left his body instantly as had – Ashyina knew – his thought. His torment had been ended.

"Lapidus," Ashyina called out quietly. She did not look at him when he turned, her eyes still transfixed upon the mangled body before her. "Assign the most seasoned hunters to dispose of the dead. Then, go to Igella, Gryp, Ventha, Kiran, and Ferra and take them to the waterfall of the Monkeys. I will meet you there."

"Where are you going?" He asked, shocked that anything could be more serious.

"I must go to Avorlig. I will bring him with me," she answered.

Lapidus looked back at the horrifying scene. "Do you think it wise to leave the others?" he asked gently.

Ashyina still did not rip her eyes away from the victims. "She is after those she believes were involved in her persecution. It is the council in the most danger now. Go. You must find them before she does."

Nodding his understanding, Lapidus looked to the gathered and began to call for those he felt fit enough to tend to the bodies. Ashyina did not wait. She teleported at once and arrived upon the prominentory of Avorlig's hut.

Though she was not surprised to see the bark he used for the door now lying upon the earth as if callously tossed there, her blood still went cold. She half-ran half-stumbled to the opening and nearly vomited from the smell before her eyes had even adjusted to the dim light. His maimed flesh lay strewn upon the dirt floor. She could not help but hope that part of its current condition was the result of carrion eaters. However, the sickening scene she had just left, the lack of visible scavenger tracks, and the abundance of Wolf paw prints in the large pools of blood confirmed that was not the case.

In terror, she jumped and spun around to see if she had been lured into a trap and would be the next tortured victim. The sound of the waves crashing against the rocks far below and the breeze caressing the trees was all that met her ears. No movement met her eyes. Her breathing sounded increasingly loud as she began to lose her sense. Desperately, she clutched to it and tried to bring it back to her.

With the nature of these murders, she knew that there must be a reason Shinga had allowed her to remain alive. What devious acts had been planned for her? She did not want to know.

Though she could not stop trying to make sense of the scene, she dared not wander alone for too long. Instead, she would have to hurry to the other council members, ensuring they had not been harmed and figuring out how best to deal with this new threat.

## Chapter 11

Kiran returned reluctantly to the familiar waterfall of the Monkeys. Ferra held his hand as though she thought it would disappear. Lapidus stood on his other side.

Lapidus had told them briefly what had happened. It made Kiran feel strangely numb, which was not a familiar sensation. Ferra was nearly in tears.

Gryp and Igella had already arrived and were standing in conversation with Akym and Gringa. Apparently, Gryp had been unable to find Ventha when Lapidus came to fetch them. This made events increasingly worrying to all those involved.

As Kiran's group approached the four who had already been present, Akym broke away to meet them.

"When Ashyina and Avorlig arrive, I will lead us to a safe place to discuss these events," he explained.

It was only a moment later that Ashyina instantaneously appeared only a few feet from the group. She was looking harried. Her eyes flicked around, assessing her surroundings as if she were a cornered animal. She was breathing heavily and her hair was dishevelled.

"Shinga has killed Avorlig," she said through heaving breaths. "Barely anything recognizable of him remained."

Igella gasped. "First Ventha and now Avorlig."

Ashyina's eyes narrowed. "Ventha? What has happened to her?" she demanded

"I cannot find her," Gryp explained. "There is no sign of her."

The entire group looked around nervously as if expecting Shinga's hoard to leap out at them from behind a tree.

Akym interrupted the gesture. "Perhaps we should have our meeting," he suggested. "I have a special place I created for such needs of privacy. Please follow me."

He led them towards the water's edge as near to the waterfall as one could walk before being impeded by the jutting rocks. He placed his palms upon the stone and concentrated. The rock changed shape so that it was now forming a clear path that led behind the falls. The remaining council members followed as he guided them along the path.

Behind the falls, there was a large cave completely hidden from the outside. The water fell is such an opaque curtain that there was no possibility to see the cave behind it even if one had been told where to look. The cave extended a large enough distance back and was wide enough that it easily accommodated all the bodies with plenty of room to spare. Once the others were seated, Akym placed his palms upon the stone and replaced the rock over the path.

Kiran noticed Lapidus had picked up some strips of bark with strange markings upon them. "What is this?" Lapidus called to Akym.

When Akym realized what Lapidus was holding, his body jolted. "Careful with those!" he said as he ran over and pull the bark strips from Lapidus' hands. "They are the thoughts that are too numerous to keep in my mind. I use charcoal to mark them upon the paper," he explained before setting them down in a corner near the back of the cave.

"They don't look like thought. They look like markings," Lapidus replied.

"Each symbol represents a different thought to me," Akym said. "I've even begun teaching some of the Children how to read it."

Gringa coughed. "Akym," she said. "We did not come here for one of your experiments or lessons. Kindly discuss this at a more appropriate time."

He looked around at the others and his cheeks flushed. He hurried to his place and sat quietly.

The meeting began with Ashyina and Lapidus' accounts of what they had found that morning.

"If how it appeared was not awful enough," Lapidus added when they had already shared the basic points, "I believe the boy on the pike had been placed that way to ensure he did not die quickly from blood loss. He was in horrible shape but the pike kept his blood from spilling out too quickly. This is sicker than anything any of us could have imagined."

"Shinga has proven to have quite the disturbing imagination," Igella remarked dryly.

"There is something I don't understand," Ferra said. "Why did she choose these boys? As awful as it is, I can understand her motives to attack Avorlig and, if I stretch the logic enough, even Ventha seems an understandable target, but why these boys?"

Ashyina did not look at any of those gathered but stared straight ahead, her face haunted. She replied, "Those were the boys she had originally accused. Unfortunately, she has decided to go to extraordinary lengths to convince us that her lies are real. She has truly lost her thought. Ventha would hurt no one except maybe another Dragon in a willing duel. To go after her, before even Lapidus or me, goes against everything I thought I knew about her. I doubt there is anything of the Thinker we once knew left."

"What are we going to do about it?" Kiran added gruffly. He had been listening silently to all that was said but, as the acuteness of his own shock began to dull, he was becoming increasingly impatient with talk that went nowhere. He had had angels and gods to worry about, and now his own kind. He still could not help but think the two were linked but Tryailla had told him nothing aside from warning him about Shinga's betrayal in the first place. If the gods were controlling Shinga, however, it would explain the otherwise inexplicable and grotesque behaviour.

Everyone present was looking down at the dirt floor uncomfortably. They had never been presented with such a situation before and despite their knowledge of the universe, they had no experience with such perversion.

Akym was sitting with his side against the cave wall and carving something into it with a sharp stone he had found on the dirt floor.

"Akym," Kiran called, "What do you think?"

Akym did not stop his task for another moment. Then he threw the stone away and brushed the dirt from his palms. As he evaluated his carving. Kiran was not sure why he stared at it. It looked to him to be nothing more than a series of vertical lines laid out in a horizontal row; eleven lines. With a deep breath, Akym finally answered.

"What should I think about all this tragedy? It defies explanation." He paused, as though quite uncomfortable with what he was about to suggest. After a moment to gather his wits, he continued, "Should we hunt them?"

"Is there a point in killing Barjl and Shinga?" Lapidus asked. "If we simply kill them, they will return in the next life to hunt us down. And there have been rumours that Shinga's limitations are now far less than some of our own. We may not be strong enough to overpower her."

"I will try to find a way," Akym offered sadly.

Kiran was getting irritated with their own weaknesses. "And what of the two of them in the meantime? They seem intent upon hunting us down. I don't plan to be a sacrifice to Shinga's insanity," he complained.

"And the Children," Ferra added. "What about them? Many of them are defenceless. If Shinga truly hates the Children so much, they are all in peril. Perhaps even those so young they have yet to show thought or take human form."

All were now watching Ashyina, as their confusion required her leadership, but Kiran could tell she was lost. He could wait no longer. He could not tell them everything. In fact, he could tell them precious little if he still wanted to keep Tryailla from harm, but he might be able to tell them enough to improve their situation.

"There may be a way," he began. Ferra shot him a surprised look. He tried to return one that conveyed comforting assurance.

He continued, "Ferra and I have been discussing moving the Cats to another planet. Our plans had originally been intended as another great adventure, another test of our abilities. We began to experiment with teleportation involving people who lack the skill and any knowledge of the destination. We have not completely succeeded yet, unless Akym has not shared something with me." He looked questioningly at Akym who shook his head.

"We have had no progress at all," he replied.

Kiran continued, "Ferra and I feel that we are close. If we can manage this ability, we can move everyone, even those who are too small to know who they are, to the planet we have chosen. Shinga cannot harm us if she cannot find us. If we can..."

Gringa interrupted, "We do not know if Shinga has such an ability. If she has learned how to isolate vibrations so skilfully, she may soon learn to seek out ours if she is not already capable of such a task. Fleeing would be pointless."

With these words, Kiran absent-mindedly rubbed the empty pouch that had held Tryailla's disk between his fingers. His dry and calloused hands snagged the rough cloth as he thought about his last meeting with his beautiful vision. He looked down at the pouch, thinking of what she had said about her essence, about it hiding him from the eyes of the angels. Would it work for Shinga as well? If the gods were somehow involved in her behaviour, it very well could. With a final determination, he began to rip the cloth of the pouch as best he could into small squares.

"I may have something that can help," he said.

The council members looked at each other nervously as if they thought he was beginning to show symptoms indicating a Shingian disorder. He ignored this as he continued to rip the fabric into eight squares, one for each of them.

"This," he explained, "resonates with an energy that can mask our vibrations from her. If we all keep it with us, she should be unable to find us through such means." He began to hand out the pieces. Each member examined the rough square of cloth they had been given.

"How did you make this?" Ashyina asked.

"I was given it," Kiran said simply, refusing to elaborate.

Ferra, as loyal as ever, ensured no further questions were asked about its origins by moving the subject along. "We now only need to learn how to transport the defenceless. Then we can leave this place," she said.

"No," Akym said firmly, surprising all assembled. "I am not leaving. As strange as it may sound for a Thinker to say. I have grown fond of this place and I refuse to let the likes of Shinga drive me from it."

Kiran noticed Gringa was eying her companion suspiciously but she did not speak.

"Then you may very likely be killed," Igella pleaded. "You would be her only remaining target. Please reconsider, Akym. Don't stay here for some misguided nostalgia."

"I will stay with him," Gringa added firmly though her wide eyes spoke of uncertainty. "And any Monkey who wishes to remain behind will have our protection."

Ferra looked at Kiran with the worry of a conflicted heart in her eyes. He simply shrugged his shoulders in reply. Turning back to the group, he said, "Any who wish to join us may come. We will create a great center for all the races to live together upon our new planet. Any who wish to remain may remain." Then, he addressed Akym specifically, "If you learn of a way to destroy Shinga, fetch us and we will all hunt her together, united."

Akym nodded in firm agreement, as did every other council member.

Kiran stood, confident in their progress, as he announced, "Ferra and I should return to confirm that my own kin have not been harmed. I would also like to work on solving this problem immediately."

Ashyina and Lapidus both stood at his words. Ashyina's skin looked pale and slightly gray. Her fingers were trembling. When she spoke, her voice was quiet but steady. "We should hurry back to the caves to get the others. It is not safe for us there anymore. Kiran, would it be alright if we brought the Wolves to your territory for the time being?"

"I don't see why not," he replied. "We are in this together. Wolves are always welcome in the home of the Cats."

She nodded her thanks to him. "We shall fetch the others and return to your home within the day."

With this, the meeting adjourned and Akym and Gringa reopened the path leading from the cave. As the others filed out, Kiran walked to Gryp and touched him gently on the shoulder. Gryp turned and appeared to blink away a haze before his eyes registered who had pulled him aside.

Kiran was feeling a togetherness for Gryp that he had never felt before. He said, "You didn't say much during the meeting. I understand. It is difficult losing a Thinker this way, especially one of your own race. Keep that cloth with you, Gryp. Trust me. Without Ventha around, you may be in even more danger. I am going to ask Igella if she wants to join us as well until we leave this planet. The same invitation goes for you. You and I may have never really gotten along but if you and your Dragons want to join us, you are welcome."

Gryp appeared to need a moment to digest what had been said to him and Kiran thought he saw a glimmer of an inner battle being waged. However, the expression was quickly gone. The Dragon smiled at him faintly and said, "I would be honoured. I shall return to my Dragons and inform them of the situation. Let them make their own decisions."

Kiran nodded in agreement and left Gryp alone in the cave.

## Part II: A Hidden Home

## Chapter 12

Kiran knelt next to the small stream. Using both hands, he scooped the cold water over his head. He kept his eyes closed as he tilted his chin towards the sun.

The air smelled of sweet flowers. The purity of their scent cleansed him. He exhaled, allowing any worries he had had be carried on the breeze.

The woman he had come to worship sat upon the moist earth next to him. "What do you think you will call it?" came her soft voice.

He released the last of his deep breath, lowered his chin, and opened his eyes to look at her. Tryailla's face was framed by her golden waves of hair that was shining brilliantly in the afternoon sun. Her form was clad in a loose white garment that skimmed the length of her body and was secured at each shoulder by two gold clasps. The more they had met, the more this had become her usual attire, as she had found herself wanting to emulate the Thinkers more and more.

"I hadn't thought about it," he replied.

They had been discussing their completion of the sanctuary, a palace of such grand scale that all races could seek refuge within its walls. It was to be a centre dedicated to the work of the Thinkers and to the strengthening of their bonds to one another. Though they were originally beings without form, it honoured the natural and physical world around them that they had come to know as their home.

It had been a much longer and more difficult journey to reach this point than any of his kind had expected. It was almost three years to the day since Shinga's first attack upon their people; the attack that saw two Thinkers and nine Children dead. Since that day, Thinkers began to disappear daily, whether by angel or Shinga, Kiran did not know. As Tryailla had explained, she had information from only her own legion. What the angels of other gods were doing, she had no way of knowing. How little they knew did not change the fact that many of the Thinkers were gone, leaving mostly Children. None of those born since had yet to show any sign of being Thinkers, though it was still possible.

No more of the council had been targeted but that did not shed light upon the attackers. Though the cloth shielded the council members from the angels, Tryailla had informed Kiran it would not work against his own kind. However, it was possible that Shinga did not feel herself strong enough to overtake them openly. Immediately after the meeting that sad day, all the council members except the Monkeys had moved their people to the Cats' savannah,

The others were convinced that it was Shinga behind all the disappearances of the other Thinkers. Kiran would have enlightened them to the other possibility if he had not been so afraid for their safeties. Tryailla continued to stress the possibility of dire consequences if the angels became aware of their knowledge. Especially since Kiran did not know for sure that Shinga could not be responsible, he felt the risk unwarranted.

For the effect it had upon the people, it did not matter whether it was Shinga or the angels. Terror had risen amongst them. The Children were the most terrified of all because of the grotesque murders of the first nine. They refused to venture off without the accompaniment of a powerful Thinker. It had added an extra stress to an already frightening situation as Child and Thinker alike began to feel like prisoners in an invisible cage.

The fear led to suspicion as well, for the rumour had quickly surfaced that Shinga was able to lure so many off by taking the form of someone they knew and trusted. Such deceit had never been done before but neither had anything else Shinga had done.

Small coteries formed in which its members never left each other for a moment and suspicion of any from another coterie and especially any from another race became rampant.

To make matters worse, he and Ferra had not been as close to their teleportation breakthrough as he had assumed. It had taken them two years to solve the problems they had been having. When they had first attempted the jump with each other, they had thought all had gone well, but as they tried it several more times just to be sure, they realized that whoever was intended to be the "unknowing" partner was unintentionally guiding themselves. If the partner was not told the location, they would end up somewhere else entirely. Trying to let go of that control with such unknown consequences was like trying to relax one's muscles when face to face with a large crocodile.

They had been forced to change their approach. They had already known that simple lifeforms like plants could be taken quite easily as Gringa had demonstrated the first day they had learned of the ability to teleport. Just to be sure that they could do it as easily as she could, they had tried this task themselves and, once satisfied, increased their efforts to more complex subjects.

Eventually, Kiran had managed to get a hold of a talapoin that was not happy to have been chosen and was far from cooperative. However, Kiran felt his volatile participation would give them a more accurate idea of the difficulties they may have especially if trying to transport many people grouped together at one time. While the poor talapoin survived the experiment and was allowed to return to freedom, his involvement proved not nearly as enlightening as any of them had hoped.

Moving beings and objects that lacked thought appeared to be easy enough. Concentrating upon the form was the basis of the manoeuvre. However, it was when they felt confident enough to attempt working with their own kind that the largest hurdle emerged.

It had been nearly catastrophic. The young cheetah who had volunteered was named Yurth. Though slightly nervous, he had appeared eager, willing, and largely trusting of what Kiran and Ferra had explained to him was going to happen. He was not nearly as fidgety as the talapoin and much calmer but his thought proved too much to grasp.

Kiran had easily focused on the young man's body, concentrating on both their forms and the vibrations of them. Trying to alter the boy's thought to the correct vibrations, however, proved impossible. With great injury caused to the boy, though he luckily did survive, they learned that the thought could not be altered from the outside, at least with their limited abilities.

If they had teleported his body without successfully grasping his thought, they would have essentially killed him. Not having anticipated the problem, Kiran did not pull back his own mind in time to prevent injury. Yurth remained bed ridden and still recovering for months afterwards and had never fully returned to himself.

They were much more careful after that. They were still forced to experiment on the Children as no other subject would have furthered their knowledge of the problem but they proceeded with such extreme care and caution that none since Yurth had been harmed in the slightest way. Unfortunately, this meant that they had made very little progress.

It was not until Akym came to visit them one day that their efforts saw any success. He had come to share with them that he had started experimenting with the varying vibrations of different stones. He had found some were more easy to identify and to work with than others. Some, he informed them, even appeared to amplify his efforts so completely that whatever vibration he applied to them permeated everything within a small distance. He theorized that if they contained something within the stone, they would need only concentrate upon the stone itself to do the work.

With this new information, it was only a matter of hours before they were trying again. They had found a deposit of a strong, purple, crystalline substance that Akym had identified as showing the most promise. Together, they shaped it into a large hollow form not unlike an acorn but large enough to contain several people. Despite what had happened to Yurth, there were still plenty of brave Children who were willing to volunteer for their next experiment.

At first, they had been terrified it was not working. Though the stone's vibrations aided them just as Akym had predicted, the new vibrations it gave were so strong that they could not tell what was happening to the young woman inside. The energy of the stone also showed itself to be difficult to stop once it began to approach the necessary resonance. At that point, they knew they were following more than guiding. They tried to remain focused upon the correct destination as a precaution, as they had no hope of stopping it.

To their adrenaline-fed relief and joy, the wild and terrifying trip had been a complete success. It was only a matter of days before all the loyal Children and Thinkers had been transported to the new planet.

Kiran had wasted no time in seeking out Tryailla. Escaping into the forest where he was sure he would not be seen, he walked until he stumbled upon a large clearing with a small waterfall and stream flowing through it. It was there that he had summoned her. She had quickly suggested they protect the location for the safety of all future meetings between them. Imbibing the entire clearing with her essence, she ensured it would be invisible to the eyes of the angels and possibly even the gods.

It had also been at that meeting that she taught Kiran something that would have delighted him if he had not been so surprised. She taught him of the power of exchanging energy. It was more than mating. It was an entirely active effort to bless his being with her power and her essence. He had had no complaints about the process though how he felt afterwards had taken some adjustment.

She told him that with this addition to his energies, he would be able to remain protected from the angels. From then on, he would also be able to infuse objects to protect them in the same way she had. It was through this that he aided his people in building the sanctuary. All of the Thinkers and capable Children created the physical structure of perfection by pushing the rock into the way they had wanted it but it was Kiran who, without their knowledge, had blessed every particle of its structure so thoroughly that it nearly glowed.

It had only been that morning one year later that the immense task had been finished. He immediately made his way back to the glade to summon Tryailla.

She was giggling at him. It was a rare occurrence but her laughter was soft and lyrical. It fed his soul.

"What?" he asked.

She smiled kindly. "You have been staring in a daze," she said. "Did you not hear what I said?"

He shook his head, less in the negative than in a self-beration for having let his mind wander.

"I said that you will have to think of something. Such a powerful place cannot go nameless for long." Her tone was conversational but there had been the slight undertone of a scolding to it.

"Why not?" he asked. "I would think something so important should not have a rushed name thrust upon it."

She shook her head and explained, "Names are important. They have a way of identifying an energy, of containing it, and even protecting it from outside contamination. Naming energy can be the simplest way to surround it with a barrier."

He looked at her confused and awed. "Is this the angels' magic then?"

"Magic?" she asked confused.

He flushed. "It is what the Children without skill have begun to call the ability to control and alter vibrations."

For several seconds, she frowned in thought. "I supposed they are related," she offered. "Perhaps we can call it that for lack of a better word. It is simply a fact that the angels know. Names are powerful things. To know the name of your enemy or for them to know your name could change the outcome of a battle."

Unintentionally, he scoffed to which she, rather kindly, only laughed at him. Then, to his disappointment, she stood.

"I should not linger," she replied. "Call me again when you have chosen a name."

"There is a celebration tomorrow to honour our new home," he replied. "I will have one by then."

She leaned forward to kiss him on the forehead, and then smiled one last time at him before disappearing.

* * *

Gryp sat ignoring the boring conversation of Igella and Ferra. They were excitedly discussing the next day's celebrations and how they could improve them. Several of the Thinkers of all races had grouped together to fetch as much food as they could find while the rest of them remained behind to accomplish various tasks of making their new home and the celebrations of it as luxurious as they could imagine.

Igella and Ferra had insisted Gryp stay behind to help them finish the elaborate figures that now sat in relief around the opening to the large fireplace. He was not sure why they had insisted he help, as every time he added his own touch the two women shook their heads despairingly and changed the contemplative figures he had added.

"This is a hall of gathering and celebration," Igella had insisted. "We don't want images of people meditating and working on their skills. We want happiness."

It had been Ferra's idea to use the medium to emphasize the connection amongst the races. This combined with the air of revelry resulted in an elaborate and detailed sculpture of dozens of tiny figures dancing and mating in all versions of their forms. To Gryp, it felt obscene but the women brushed away his concerns by saying he had never been very much fun anyway.

When they had finished, the three of them sat upon the top step leading into their new palace. For Gryp, it was because he had nothing else to do rather than because he enjoyed the conversation of his two companions. The thought of nothing to do wandered back into his mind.

Ashyina had left with the hunting parties and with the insistence of the two ladies, he had been unable to follow, not that he liked the idea of hunting much. It was too animalistic for him. It reminded him too much of what they were trying to leave behind and so he even avoided eating meat as much as possible.

Now he became slightly worried. It had been a long time since the meeting with the winged Wolf that had led to Ventha's death. He had very little information to share if the Wolf ever returned but it seemed the animal must have known because he had so far left Gryp alone. With his skill of entering his companions' minds, he had learned the truth of what Ashyina did but he was sure that the winged Wolf and his kind had already known of this or they would not have been so interested in her. Telling them what they already knew would probably not endear him to them. The thought of the winged Wolf returning and not having what he wanted poked at Gryp's insides and made him regret not accompanying the hunting party.

Ashyina's betrayal was not consequential to Gryp. Obviously, it had begun something amongst their kind that had never happened before but in the realm of otherworldly beings, he could not figure out why it mattered. As they were the greatest threat to him at this moment, he found difficulty being troubled by the behaviour of his own kind, so his thoughts returned to that of his assigned task.

There was no way he would get what the winged Wolf wanted from Shinga. Not only did he have no idea where her band was now hiding, though he was sure it was most likely still upon Earth, but he also was acutely concerned for the safety of his own throat if he returned. No matter how little he had been paying attention to that council meeting, he had voted with the others against her. Shinga may only be able to destroy his body but if she did so, he would be unable to complete the errand for those who could destroy his thought.

Ferra let out a delighted shriek at some suggestion Igella had provided. The sudden outburst caused him to jump nearly a foot. Igella noticed.

"You must be tired," she noted. "Why don't you find a place to sleep for now? There are plenty of rooms for it."

Gryp nodded in agreement more because it was an excuse to escape than because he felt the advice accurate. Saying good-bye to the two women, he turned towards the palace and walked inside it. He stopped in the great hall, trying to decide upon which way to proceed. The shape of the palace reflected the rays of the sun when it was only halfway above the horizon. Many of the people had felt it reflected the end of the old and the beginning of the new quite nicely.

There were five wings for the rays with four smaller wings that filled in the sun between them. Each of the five wings represented one of the races. Within those, the race of that wing could meet separately from the others if they so desired. They were also intended to be inner sanctuaries of protection and of honouring thought. Each had been designed in such a way as to aid the development of a particular skill. They had equated a different physical element to each ability they had discovered thus far, which was why the doors had been formed with reliefs of different elements.

The Dragon wing, which was to his left, was adorned with fire. Along the length of the hall at various points were large pits for bonfires; three in all. The walls and pillars appeared to be made of fire itself as they had formed large waves and curlicues instead of flat stone. They had been covered in gold and lined with torches so that they appeared to dance like real flame. This realism aided in visualization of the energies one was attempting to manipulate. With fire, this was especially necessary, as the vibration of it was so volatile that it was often difficult to determine. Starting a fire or snuffing it out was easy enough for most of them but guiding a fire in the same way they could the earth proved impossible thus far.

The elemental wing to the right of the Dragon's was water. It had been assigned to the Cats, who had often used their own river on Earth as concealment for hunting when the occasion warranted. The halls within appeared to have been created by large parted waves of blue glass. The foamy spray made up the ceiling. A series of skylights let in the rays of their new sun, reflecting off the glassy surfaces to make it seem bright and welcoming. Throughout the hall, there were large pools filled with clear water. Ferra had managed to bring some large orange and white fish from Earth to place in the ponds. In this place, one could meditate upon their flow of emotion to purify their thought. They could manipulate the cold fluid to understand it and to use it. Though many had accomplished the basics of this task, none had truly manipulated it beyond forming small ripples or waves.

To his right was the large door of air, adorned with curling clouds that appeared to be blown about by strong winds. It had been obvious to all that this would be the Hawk's domain. This hall had no pillars like the others. It was simply decorated with white walls. There was a balcony at the far end that looked down upon the hall below. No stairs led to the balcony. It was only for those with flight.

Gryp noted he could not have set down upon it for it was also small and delicate enough that it would not have taken the girth of a Dragon. The ceiling was a thin layer of hard diamond formed to be perfectly clear to show the sky above. Lining the walls at the very top were a series of small holes that allowed the wind to pass through them, creating different tones and whistles as it did. The music aided in the mindset necessary to glide upon the air and to move the air to one's liking, though none had yet been able to move much.

To the left of air was the large door of earth, bearing the gnarled roots of a tree. The walls and ceiling were rugged stone that appeared to be supported by large redwood trees. The floor within this hall was the only within the entire palace to be the hard dirt itself and not some formation of stone. The end of the hall was obscured by the darkness cast by a large cave that formed out of the walls. Throughout the hall, there were stones of various compositions strewn about. The Wolves called this wing home and many of them had indicated they would even sleep there due to the familiarity and nostalgia. Here, one could explore the vibrations of flesh and of the planets on which they lived. It was here that they were all best suited to manipulate the element. Almost all who had joined them had shown skill in this area.

Directly before him in the Great Hall, placed in the middle of all the elemental wings was that of what they had chosen to call spirit. It was the indescribable. It was what they felt they truly were; the essence of their thought. It was the vibrations themselves with which they had been connecting. They had thought, but they had yet to master manipulating and working with that thought in the same way they once had. As far as any of the others knew, none of them had succeeded in reading each other's minds.

Gryp knew better though he sometimes went out of his way to avoid it. When it happened unintentionally, he often saw things so silly or obscene that he wished he had not. This hall was the simplest of all the halls, even air. There were plain cylindrical pillars supporting the ceiling. All were made of a dark, featureless stones. There were no windows or holes in the flat walls. The domed ceiling was unadorned and uninteresting. This hall was meant to be free of all distraction so that one could more easily concentrate upon their own mind.

Gryp knew this hall would be entirely empty, because it had been assigned to the Monkeys. They had proven the most inquisitive of the races but they had also been the only race to stay behind. They were welcome in the new home and the hall remained for them if they chose to join the others but as soon as it had become known amongst their ranks that Akym intended to stay, the rest of them insisted upon doing so as well.

This hall would be the best place to find solitude. The youngest and their caregivers, not having accompanied the others on their errands, would be in the four minor wings, which contained an endless series of chambers to house those who would have come to the planet. He had no desire to be bothered by any of them. Yes, the Hall of Spirit would be the best place to leave them all behind.

The large doors glided open with little effort and no sound and closed just as easily. He was nearly in darkness. Only enough torches burned to show the dim outline of the pillars so that one did not walk into them.

He walked to the end of the hall where two steps led up to a raised platform. It was the only variation within the hall. Climbing to the top, he stretched himself out onto his back and stared into the expanse of darkness above him. He forced his mind away from winged Wolves and from Ashyina, as he tried simply to be.

* * *

Ashyina dug her claws into the ground and crouched low. She looked through the leaves of a large hedge bearing flowers similar to the lilacs of earth. She had been lying in wait for suitable prey to pass her location. She was not familiar with the scents of any of the planet's animals. The last time she had been there she had no physical senses to perceive them.

Hunting with the same techniques she had used on Earth proved pointless when she had no knowledge of the prey she sought. Gracefully, she lifted her white Wolf nose and sniffed the air, trying to determine any changes. All she could smell were the sweet flowers and the residual aroma of morning dew that had long since left the landscape in sight or touch. Her hope for succeeding in this location was rapidly dwindling.

The sound of soft earth and grass being crushed under foot pricked her right ear and she turned to see Lapidus, in full human form, walking towards her. Giving her a quick smile, he settled on his stomach next to her and appeared to try to see what she had been watching through the bush. His focus was not on the task and she could tell he wanted to speak.

She changed form and sat cross-legged upon the moist earth beside him. "Speak," she said.

He raised an eyebrow but gave her what she wanted. "Horus has found a watering hole a far distance from here. If we hurry, we can reach it before midday. There is still a chance we'll return to the palace with a mighty haul if we can find a herd at the right time."

"Herd of what?" she asked sourly.

Lapidus was beginning to lose patience. "What is your problem?"

"Nothing," she replied, though it was far from true. Everything was wrong. The planet was wrong; the way her people were behaving – hiding like scared animals – was wrong; not seeking justice and vengeance was wrong; even Horus was wrong.

Horus was the Hawk chosen to take Avorlig's place. It was not often that the council was made up of new members. It did happen, Igella had been a recent addition as well, but it was so infrequent that it was always uncomfortable. The remaining members had felt it necessary to fill Avorlig's post until he revealed his reincarnated form. At least, that is what they had claimed but Ashyina could tell that some of them were nervous that given the current circumstances, there was a chance he was gone forever. There was no way to know.

For Ashyina, she was torn about the prospect of his return. Avorlig had been a true irritation at the best of times and at the worst – well, it was his fault they were in this mess – but Horus was too likeable. It grated on her.

He was adept at most tasks and even Lapidus had gone on about how Horus was more skilled than half the council. As a Hawk, he had already mastered reading the winds but he had also mastered simple tricks with almost every element. The only thing that comforted Ashyina about his skill was his inability to read the other Thinkers' minds. However, in every other respect, he was adored; handsome and kind, honourable, a skilled hunter, a joy to be around. No one should be that perfect.

It did not help that Horus had quickly become a sycophant of Kiran. She had always liked Kiran, as serious as he could be sometimes, but lately she had found herself liking him less and less. His views on matters often differed from hers, and more and more the other council members had begun to agree with him, voting against her.

She could not help but feel it was because he had given them the illusion of safety. She knew better. Until Shinga had been completely removed from existence somehow, there would be no safety for any of them. It was aggravating that no one else could see it.

She let out an irritated sigh. If she were honest with herself, the problem was not truly about Kiran or Horus. It was that everything had gotten to her these days. The day her world fell apart, the day she had to leave her home to seek refuge with the Cats, had been the day when nothing in the world felt right to her again. If only she could kill Shinga, if only she could get rid of her band of psychopathic murderers, everything would be all right again. She could have her life back.

Lapidus was staring at her with his chin tilted down but his eyebrows raised. Thankfully, he could not have read her thoughts. If Lapidus ever learned the truth, he would never forgive her.

But why shouldn't he? Wasn't she a victim as much as any of the rest of them? Living in fear for her life all because she had been duped by Avorlig? Avorlig had already paid for his crimes. There was no need for her to be punished further as well. She had lost her creations in that attack. They had not been hers by blood, but what did the flesh really matter? Without thought, they would simply be animals. It was their thought, a creation born out of her work and her ideas that had elevated them to such a cherished position. She was the one who had lost everything important to her. Shinga had always hated being flesh and always hated the Children. What had she lost? Nothing. She had gained her desire no longer to be among them. She did not live in fear.

A shooting pain in her head had broken Ashyina from her reverie. She realized she had been gritting her teeth so hard that it had caused a headache.

Lapidus was still looking at her with that "start explaining" look that was becoming so common between the two of them.

"I have a headache," she said hoping he would believe that it had been the cause and not the symptom.

His eyebrow rose again but he said nothing.

"Stop that!" she whined. "Shouldn't we be heading for this watering hole that Horus found?"

"We have to wait," he said casually. "Horus told me he would find us and show us the way. He just wanted to tell some of the other Hawks first so that they could round up the hunting parties."

"Great," she replied with more obvious disdain than she had intended.

With an expression of consternation, Lapidus eyed her before saying, "You could try to give Horus a chance. He's a great guy. It makes me disappointed that the Hawks stayed so dispersed. We never got to know most of them in human form. He would have been a great hunting partner."

"Perhaps you should invite him for a romantic night of tracking prey in the woods," she drawled.

"You can't honestly tell me you liked Avorlig better," he said exasperatedly. "You fought with him all the time!"

Ashyina looked at the ground and muttered something about how she might have actually enjoyed the fight looking back on it.

"You're only getting nostalgic because he is dead and you feel responsible," Lapidus explained seriously. "When he reveals himself again, you'll wish he hadn't and be begging for him to let Horus remain permanently. You need to move on, Ashyina. Stop dwelling on the past and give Horus a chance. We all went through some tough times back then but everyone else has worked hard to come through it."

"How can you possibly think you had it harder than I did?" she shouted.

The moment the words hit him and his eyes darkened, she wished she could have taken them back as with so many other things in this life. She believed what she had said but his response had shown her she had crossed an invisible line.

He climbed to his feet. Her words apparently wiping out the need to wait for Horus. "You don't know nearly as much about me as you'd like to think, Ashyina. Perhaps if you stopped being so self-absorbed, you would see the difficulties of those around you rather than just your own. I went through a hell three years ago that will haunt me for the rest of my existence but I have worked hard to control it so that it does not ruin me more than it almost did."

She scoffed. He liked to think he had gone through more but he did not know what had truly started it all. It had not been his lover who forced them all into hiding either.

When she spoke again, she could not keep her tone from being mocking. "Do you want me to find every available male I can and mate with them like you did with the females? Is THAT your idea of overcoming what has happened? You lost your mind after it happened. You turned into what Barjl used to be."

"Don't!" he warned. "Never say that name to me again. I am nothing like him. I have loyalty beyond my own loins. How I seek comfort is none of your business. I spent lifetimes celibate. You know that better than anyone. If I choose to try something new, especially when the old ways no longer work, then that is my concern. Start looking at yourself and stop worrying about me."

He walked away without another glance.

"Same to you!" she yelled after him.

* * *

Although he knew Ashyina had no knowledge of the torture he had been put through by those strange beings, he could not help but remain irate with her. He stalked through the fields towards the palace, clenching and re-clenching his fists.

A kill would have made him feel much better he was sure but he did not want to risk seeing her with the other hunting parties. Part of him kept dwelling on the irritating notion that he was being unfair but most of him wanted to wallow in his anger.

They had once been friends, in truth, he felt they still were, but she was not the Ashyina he had once known. She had become dark in the last three years, obsessing over Shinga who should no longer be a consequence for them. Perhaps for the Monkeys she was still a concern, but he had spoken with Akym and Gringa and was satisfied that they were comfortable with their decision.

Slowly, he began to calm. His stomping turned to a normal gait and he no longer clenched his fists, though they were now sore. As he drew close to the palace, he began to think of what Ashyina had said, even daring to return to her comparison of him to Barjl. His guts churned.

Three years ago, after he watched the only woman he knew he had ever wanted to love die by his own hands, something in him had snapped. He needed to feel a hot body against his, to take a woman the way he had always wanted to take that woman.

At first it had become an obsession, feeling as though with each orgasm he was bringing her back to life, if only for a moment. Then, it became a drug as the orgasms themselves grew strong and began to wipe all thought from his mind. To some extent, that is how it remained.

Recently, he had begun to enjoy the act simply for what it was. He had meant what he said to Ashyina that he had worked hard to overcome his despair. He had also been telling the truth when he said it would continue to haunt him, but now, at least, he did not feel the need to shut himself off from happiness or those around him. He had no delusions about ever finding a true companion but he no longer dwelt on it.

He was almost at the base of the palace steps when a flapping of wings caught his attention. He turned to see a large golden Hawk transform into a tawny-haired man. Two locks fell in front of his forehead from a central part. The tips of them just brushed his eyebrows. His face was thin but well defined forming a soft v at his chin. His eyes were blue like the sky. His human form was always dressed in the same way; a dark brown, sleeveless canvass shirt hugging his well-built upper body. His tanned arms showed a new definition of muscle with every movement. A heavy but extremely soft, dark-brown fabric was draped around his waist. The excess fabric was thrown up over his left shoulder. His legs were always bare but for dark sandals that had been laced up his shins.

"Ho there!" Horus called. "I was looking for you. You weren't where you said you'd be."

"Oh yeah, sorry about that," he replied. "You found Ashyina though, right?"

Horus shook his head in the negative. "No but when I came looking for you, I saw her heading towards the western hills." His brow furrowed and he asked, "Are you alright?"

Lapidus was confused. "What? I'm fine," he said. "Why do you ask?"

"Ashyina didn't look too pleased," Horus replied. "Since you were supposed to be together, I assumed..."

Lapidus shook his head vaguely. "It's alright. We just had a small disagreement between friends. I'll talk to her again later and set it right."

Horus flashed a smile of brilliant white teeth. "I thought so. Anyway, do you still want to come on the hunt? I saw a herd of deer heading in the direction of the water hole on my way to get you. Can you believe there are deer here too? It is so much like Earth; it's hard to comprehend sometimes given how far away we are from it."

"There were many planets like Earth when we first came here," Lapidus pointed out.

Horus would not be deterred in his enthusiasm. "Yeah, but that was millions of years ago," he said. "All the animals everywhere have had time to change and diverge from each other. How can you not find the similarities amazing?"

This Hawk's personality was truly infectious. Lapidus could not help but smile. "I suppose I will join you on the hunt after all," Lapidus replied, feeling nearly back to normal. "I had planned to rest in the Hall of Earth, but hunting would be much better."

"Then you must hurry," Horus teased, "Because I doubt your paws can beat my wings and you'll be lucky if the herd hasn't scattered and the good kills taken by the time you get there." With these words, Horus transformed back into a Hawk with a flourish and headed for the northern forest. Lapidus followed suit and was fur-clad and galloping after the bird within moments.

## Chapter 13

The day of the celebrations could not have been better. The weather was beautiful. The skies were clear but for the occasional cotton puff of cloud and the temperature was warm without being unpleasant. The previous evening the hunting and gathering parties had returned with not only as much food as they could carry but also the news that a wonderful new gift had emerged from a woman named Dyr.

She was tall, muscular and blond. She had been made Ventha's replacement three years earlier. On the hunt, she had stumbled upon a gift she did not realize she possessed. She could link her mind with the unthinking animals and guide them as she required.

She said it had happened when she was watching a deer move away from the nearest band of hunters. As it moved, she found herself hoping it would move back towards them, giving them a clearer shot. When she concentrated upon this hope, the deer did exactly as she wanted.

Immediately, she told the others and they began to experiment. They discovered she could do it with all the deer and any other animal they could find.

The gift had caught her by surprise as she was by nature prone to a lack of confidence despite her successes. The others were thrilled. With such a useful talent hunts would no longer be the same unpredictable and dangerous affairs they had once been. However, Dyr was noticeably bashful under the abundant praise.

With the hospitable weather, the council had decided to celebrate in the open air. Large bonfires were made to cook the endless amounts of food for the hundreds who now called this planet their home. The older Children laughed and conversed happily. The younger Children, who had just learned to change at no more than four or five years old, ran around and chased each other; randomly reverting here and there, as they still lacked refined control when excited.

Kiran walked through the crowds, dodging the scampering ones as he looked over the people. A small group of these younger Children broke away to start poking at the curious babies who still remained wholly animal and wrestled in their litters. Miraja ushered them away from the defenceless young.

Kiran was pleased to see the woman smiling for once. She was one of the few thinking Wolves left and had been in a deep depression since Barjl's defection.

Seeing the people without fear again brought the biggest smile to Kiran's face. They sat and talked, Thinker and Child together, races comingled freely. It was as it always should have been. He was feeling a paternal link to his kind that he had never before noticed. He had always been somewhat irritated by half of them. Yet, everything seemed different now.

Perhaps it was Tryailla's essence that had been placed within every particle of their new home and had even begun to swell over the land itself. Earth had been a home but it had never felt like his home. It had been where they were stuck until they could learn to regain their old selves. That did not matter to him now. This place was enough.

A small pang of regret shot through him. The only thing that could have made him happier was if Tryailla were able to share in their creation. However, none of the others, aside from Ferra, knew she existed. Having a stranger flit in and out of his life would draw too much attention and unwanted questions so, for now, it must stay a secret. He shook the thought away. There had been years of worry and fretting. Now was the time for celebration and joy.

Ferra and Lapidus were enjoying an animated conversation with Horus. Lapidus and Horus looked as they always did but Ferra had changed the appearance of her clothing. Instead of the usual loose robes most of their people wore, hers now hugged her arms and upper body tightly. There was neither a hood nor an opening down the front. The waste had no obvious tie yet it was snug. The bottom flared out from her waist in layers of folded fabric that fell to the ground. She had made the cloth bright red and as she moved, it sparkled as if it had been dusted with tiny twinkling stars. Many of the people around her were taking long looks at what she had done and he noticed a few people appeared to be making mental notes for their own attire in the future.

Walking over to join the trio, he was intercepted by Ashyina who did not appear to be enjoying herself as much as the rest of them.

"I would like to speak with you," she said. There were creases on her forehead and the corners of her mouth were turned down.

"About what?" he replied with genuine innocence as the delicious smell of wood fire and roasting flank wafted by his nose.

"I know the council chose you to name our new home but I had hoped you would have shared your ideas with us before the announcement," she explained crossly. "It is nearly time for the midday ceremony and I do not even know if you have an idea let alone a final decision."

He was not about to let her sour mood ruin his day. He smiled at her and said simply, "I have the perfect name and you will find out with everyone else."

Lapidus had noticed them talking and had broken away from Horus and Ferra to interrupt. "Ashyina, you should try some of the deer. Some of the Children found a delicious sap that they rubbed all over it before cooking. You have never had a tastier meat in your life!" He ushered her away, ignoring her protests. He grinned at Kiran.

Horus and Ferra beckoned him over to which he happily complied.

"Ferra tells me you have yet to choose your room in the palace," Horus said conversationally.

Kiran frowned. "I haven't had time to think about it," he explained. "I spent last night in the forest." He had been happy to make the waterfall clearing his home.

Horus waved away the comment as if it were absurd. "That was the old way," he scolded. "You worked harder than any of us in making this palace. If you cannot enjoy some of the luxuries you helped create, then you are going to make the rest of us feel guilty."

"I am perfectly happy to take whatever is left," Kiran responded indifferently but he noticed Ferra was wearing a silly grin. "What?" he asked her.

"I thought you might be this way," she replied. "I have taken the liberty of choosing a room for you and making some improvements to it.

He eyed her suspiciously though the matter at hand hardly worried him. "Do I get a say in this?" he asked.

"No," replied Horus firmly. "It has been decided. Besides, nowhere else is available. Now that that's settled. When do we get to know the name of our new paradise?"

"When do I get to know where to sleep?" he retorted jovially.

Ferra laughed. "After your announcement," she said, "Unless you would prefer to wait."

"That sounds fine."

"Good!" Horus boomed.

Kiran considered leaving to try some of the deer Lapidus had praised so highly. The smell was becoming too tantalizing to ignore.

"Kiran," called a meek, female voice in the distance. He turned to see Dyr. It was still strange to have such a large, formidable woman appear tiny and fragile.

"Yes?" he called back.

"Ashyina told me to tell you that it is close enough to midday and make the announcement before she is forced to come up with her own name," she yelled so that her words crossed the distance, but only just.

He nodded emphatically so that she would clearly see his response. Turning back to Horus and Ferra, he asked them to help gather the crowds closer to the foot of the palace stairs. Once they had left to perform the task, he made his way to the stairs himself. Despite taking deep, steadying breaths, his excitement increased with each step.

All eyes were upon him. Hundreds of Children and dozens of Thinkers expectantly inclined their heads towards him. As he looked out amongst the crowd, he imagined that he had seen Tryailla but knew it was only wishful thinking. She had presented herself to no one else but him except for distance glimpses offered to Ferra.

For a brief moment, his nerve left him and he was sure the idea was stupid beyond all measure. He convinced himself that it was simply a lack of confidence brought on by so many people watching him. He thought of Dyr and how much he suddenly had in common with her.

The crowd grew silent as all present strained their ears, thinking that at any moment he would open his lips. He made them wait no longer.

"Thinkers and Children, the council has honoured me with the task of welcoming you all to our new home. We have all endured much, living under constant fear of attack. Those days are over. This palace contains our hopes. It honours goals that have been obtained and inspires those that have yet to be achieved. The walls that we have formed out of our own strength, out of our own desire, and out of our own skill will protect us from those wishing us harm. Those who know what it is to be Thinker, those who know what it is to be of the five races and understand that that makes us kin, those who know that we are in this together are all welcome in our sanctuary. This is our Home!"

He paused, letting the crowd express their agreement and joy at his words. A great roar reached him from the simultaneous tumult of all the voices. The cheers made his heart swell and any nervousness he had dared entertain had been washed away. Once the crowd began to quiet, he let his voice boom forth once more.

"There is another task with which the council has honoured me. They have allowed me to choose a name for our new planet and home. It is a name that means a great deal to me and, in my mind, the most appropriate name this palace could ever be given. Welcome to our home Tryailla!" He shouted the last word as clearly and loudly as he could for all to hear.

There were no stunned whispers, only boisterous celebration. The name meant nothing to any of them except for Ferra but his worry that this would cause confusion had been unfounded. An entirely new name for an entirely new home seemed fitting, so much so that many in the crowd began to chant the name. The unified chorus met his ears and inflated him even more though he had thought such a feat impossible. He beamed back at the people who were now returning to their celebrations even more ecstatically than before. Descending the stairs to re-join them, he saw Ferra pushing through the crowd towards him.

"Are you going to insult my choice?" he asked her, trying to keep his tone jovial but not entirely succeeding.

She looked stung. "Not at all. Is that why you thought I was coming to get you?" she asked, her tone now a little too understanding.

He laughed at himself. Though his first impulse had been to sulk at her reply, the infectious mood of the revellers could not be quelled. "Sorry," he offered. "Since you are the only other person who knows the meaning of the name, I assumed that you of all people might take issue with it."

She chuckled at his explanation and said, "Not at all. She may be my competition but she is also the reason we have such a wonderful place to feel safe. I cannot think of any other name that would be as appropriate." She smiled and then seemed to remember why she had wanted to fetch him. "I came to show you to your new room."

He stepped aside, indicating for her to lead the way.

Once inside the Great Hall, she led him to the minor wing between the Hall of Spirit and the Hall of Earth. Their footsteps echoed upon the stones as they walked in silence down the main corridor, passed intersecting hallways, stairways, and doors leading to the various chambers. Kiran began to wonder if she had tricked him into a fool's errand.

"Is there actually a room or are you simply walking me around until I collapse from exhaustion?" he asked, still intoxicated by the celebratory atmosphere.

She snickered. "I know it is a little far. It is in the back of the palace. I know how the others can get to you sometimes so I thought a room that took effort to reach might deter such people except in the most dire of circumstances."

Though she could not see, he nodded firmly at this logic then replied, "I'm sure you're not referring to Gryp. He is such a charming fellow."

To his surprise, she did not laugh at his attempt at humour.

"I know I'm not the funniest of people," he began but she cut across him.

"Sorry. That isn't it. I'm just beginning to wonder about Gryp. Either the past events are getting to him more than the rest of us or he is hiding something." She seemed to be half in thought as she said it.

"I know Gryp is a little sour but hasn't he always been that way?" he asked.

She considered this for a moment. "No. This is something different. I can't put my finger on it." She waved her hand dismissively in the air. "Forget I said anything. I'm probably just imagining it."

Now it was Kiran's turn to consider. "I doubt that," he said. "If I notice him acting strangely, I'll let you know."

She smiled in thanks but continued walking.

"You should have warned me to bring provisions," he teased again.

She stopped and faced him. "Very funny," she said dryly. "We're here."

She had stopped before two doors almost as large as those of the elemental halls. These were made of wood that was simply formed. The only variance to the surface was a relief of a floral geometric pattern, which bordered the edges and crossed the middle horizontally. She stepped aside to let him push them open.

Before placing his hands upon the wood, he looked at her. "Did you make me my own hall?" he asked.

A simple smile was all she gave in response.

With surprisingly little strength, he pushed the doors open.

Ferra had lied to him. She had made him his own palace. It opened onto an enormous room with high ceilings. In the centre, taking up almost the entire room was a shallow pool of water. On the far side of the pool were large floor to ceiling windows that opened onto a balcony. The view from the windows was spectacular. One could look over almost the entire mountain range that was behind the palace. To his right there was another large set of doors. He walked to them and pushed them. They opened to reveal another large, high ceilinged room with the same floor to ceiling windows leading to yet another balcony. He walked onto the balcony and took a deep breath. There was a slight breeze brushing passed the palace and into the valleys. It had the slight smell of warm grass. Looking down, he saw that the balconies were above a series of flowering shrubs that had been placed in various geometric patterns.

He turned to see Ferra was still smiling at him.

"It is beautiful isn't it?" she asked.

He nodded. "I can't stay here."

She was not insulted but raised a brow.

"We could fit our old village in this place," he explained. "It is too much."

She laughed. "Hardly. Everyone else has already found their own places to sleep. We had the space, so I found a purpose for it." Leaning forward, she looked mischievous. "You're welcome," she said. Before he could complain, she had turned and was walking towards the large main doors. "I'll leave you to decorate," she called back to him and he rolled his eyes.

Once alone, he looked around again, trying to absorb the drastic change that had been thrust upon him. Such a private and spacious arrangement would take more than a little adjustment. He sighed resignedly and walked back to the room with the pool, intending to re-join the revellers.

That familiar voice calling his name stopped him. He turned and saw Tryailla standing in front of one of the balcony windows. The light from the outside made her blond locks glow ethereally.

"Why did you do it?" she half sobbed at him.

He did not understand but he hurried to her. She collapsed into his arms. Her strength had left her, which was terrifying as she had always been anything but weak.

"Why did you do it?" she wailed again.

"What are you talking about?" he managed to ask as he attempted to lower her gently to the floor. "What have I done?"

"Why my name?" she pressed.

The question was so simple but he now understood. "I wanted to honour you and everything you have done for us. I wanted... I didn't think...," he was pleading with her but for what he did not know.

"Did you not listen to me when I told you the power of a name?" she shot at him as she turned her head to look directly into his eyes.

"What has happened?" he begged again. "What have I done wrong?"

"You have linked my name to the essence. It will be only a matter of time before they discover it," she sobbed again.

He was entirely confused. "I don't understand. You told me your essence would hide us."

"And it does," she affirmed. "At this moment, they still cannot find you."

"Then what is the problem?" he was nearly beside himself as well now, but he knew of no reason for it.

She was breathing heavily. "You have those amongst your kind who are your enemies. You have seen them. Then there are those who remained behind. They are not protected. If any of them learns of the name no matter how accidentally. If somehow it were to get back to the legions..."

He hugged her close as terror ripped through him. "What would they do?" he whispered, his voice catching on the rough dryness of his throat.

"I have committed the only sin amongst my kind. I have gone against the Gods. It should not even be possible. We had no will, only duty. But I have gone against them." She clutched to him as she spoke, her body trembling within his arms.

"What will they do to you?" he begged again.

She ceased trembling but did not look at him. Her gaze was focused on some unidentifiable object in the distance. "They will use this link to find you and remove us all from existence."

He held her closer with these words. Somehow, it still did not feel close enough. "How can we prevent it?" he asked.

"I am not sure we can," she said quietly. Suddenly, she sobered. "But I can hide," she said and pulled out of his arms so that she could look at him properly. "I can hide amongst your kind. If they do not have me, they cannot follow the link."

As shameful as he felt to admit it, her suggestion made his heart leap.

"Tell everyone I am one of your thinking Children," she said hurriedly. "Angels cannot find angels. It is part of our defenses for battle. It is how the Gods created us. If I do not return to the legions, they will not be able to find me."

"And the gods? What about them? Will Lilith be able to find you?" he asked.

She looked down at the ground. She said, "I do not know. Such a thing has never been tested. A god has never needed to seek an angel before now. Our duty binds us to come when called. But there is nothing else we can do if she does have such a power." After a moment's pause, she looked up at him again. "I know of no other possibility to elude them. Let me hide amongst you."

"It isn't a matter of letting," he replied gruffly. "I want you to stay but I want you safe more."

She smiled and reached up to caress his cheek. "Staying here may be what keeps us all safe."

* * *

Shinga sat on the beach, the water lapping at her toes. She looked out over the waves with the myriad hills at her back. Slowly, her fingers traced nonsensical designs in the sand as she thought about everything and nothing at the same time.

In the years since her vengeance had played out, she had begun to re-evaluate everything she thought she had figured out. Her band had become a close and loving family. They took care of each other and there was no animosity amongst them like there had been when she had lived with the other Wolves. She took in a deep breath. The thought of this family came in on the breath to fill not only her lungs but her soul. These people were her home.

When the others had left, she was angry at first. She would be unable to find Ashyina and teach her the lesson she so desperately needed. The thought occurred to her that if she pressed her skills further still, she would eventually be able to find her and punish her. As time passed, however, that desire began to wane. It even began to seem pointless. She was now safe and happy with her small group and upsetting that for the sake of the past seemed excessive and detrimental to her own happiness.

Moreover, there was something that had begun to feel much more important to her though she did not even know what it was. As her abilities expanded, a niggling emerged in her mind. The more she did, the more she felt strange; the more she felt as though there was a memory trying desperately to break through the surface. Unfortunately, this only confused her more.

A Thinker tended to remember most – if not all – of her past. Though memory came more difficultly and later in each of her lives, once it came, it was all intact. It was rare that a memory would be hidden, especially for something significant, even for her.

She began to wonder if that had only been when all the Thinkers were together. One had the memories of the others to explore for reference. Perhaps it was possible for a memory to remain hidden.

As she contemplated this last point, her solitude was broken by Barjl.

"Here you are!" He announced happily, as he dropped himself onto the sand beside her and leaned back on his hands.

"I didn't know you were looking for me," she said. She turned her eyes upon the sand she had been tracing with her fingers.

Barjl shrugged. "Arken managed to summon a stag to him today. That boy is getting more talented every day. He even managed to put the poor beast to sleep before we killed it. I am sure that is a much better way to die than being chased down and ripped to shreds by a dog."

His description was too close to events in the past for it not to evoke memories. Shinga let out a sigh. "We are not like them, are we?" She asked.

Apparently, Barjl too had noticed the similarities in his words and understood exactly what she meant. "We didn't run away, if that's what you mean," he offered.

"You know that is not what I mean," she replied. "Avorlig and the others. Did we go too far?"

Barjl sat up straighter and crossed his legs. "Are you regretting it?"

"No. I am definitely not regretting it or even feeling sorry for them but I don't want to be them either," she explained.

"You are definitely not like that scum," Barjl said gruffly. "Avorlig lied and manipulated. He got other people to do evil deeds that he thought up in his own head. Those Children definitely did have something wrong with them. They liked putting others through pain far too much. Avorlig needed to be taught the lesson that you can't get away with behaving like that. None of those things are happy but we wouldn't have had to do them if it weren't for what they had chosen to do."

Shinga was not convinced. "Didn't we come up with sick punishments out of our own minds? Didn't we enjoy it?" She looked into his eyes. "You enjoyed it."

Barjl returned her gaze, refusing to turn away from the scrutiny. "That was different. Avorlig did what he did because he had a warped idea of what made a person worthy of respect. He wanted to inflict horrible acts upon you because he wanted to see you suffer like an animal. He wanted you to be an animal. He forgot what it was to be a Thinker and turned his back on his own people. He turned his back on his thought and on any attempt to find another way. You did try to find another way. We all tried to seek help from the whole. We all tried to make people see reason but arrogance and selfishness led to more victims and they didn't care. Avorlig died because he had to die. I took pleasure in doing it because his death gave me hope that we could fix this and prevent it from happening again. When he is reborn, do you not think that our punishment might help him realize what it is he had truly done?

Barjl continued without waiting for a reply. "As for the Children, it was only right that we let their own victims decide what they deserved. Everyone, even you, agreed that they needed to know pain because they obviously did not comprehend it before. They needed to be a demonstration to the others of the severity of their crimes. Their deaths were a demonstration of the victims' pain. We did it because no one listened to words and pleading."

"Barjl," Shinga whispered, "We were monsters. We were so blinded by our vengeance."

"No!" Barjl shouted and he jumped to his feet. "We are not monsters. Look at what we have accomplished since they left? Think about what Arken did today. With our abilities, not even animals have to suffer. We wanted a world without all of those sick things and, at least, for our small group we have that. Most of our family is haunted by the past but at least we can make up for it in the present."

"I still don't think I will ever be able to forgive myself," she said to her feet. "I do not blame or judge any of you. I hate only myself. Even if we meet them again, we will not kill any of the council or the Children. I was wrong, Barjl. I was completely wrong and it took you and the others to show me."

Tears were streaking her cheeks as she looked up at him. The pain and conflict within him was evident in his wide eyes.

"And Ashyina?" he asked. "What of her? The one who betrayed you more than anyone."

"For now, she will have to find her own way to live with what she has done," Shinga replied softly. "If we meet again, I do not know."

Barjl simply stared at her for many moments, looking as though he wanted to speak but never quite managed it. Finally, he lowered himself down next to her again and placed an arm around her shoulders.

When he spoke again, all anger had left his voice. "It is all so confusing, isn't it? Our people were so peaceful and happy until all of this. What happened to us?"

"Something that can never be taken back," she replied.

The waves were beginning to lap at her toes. They would have to go soon. She looked out over the water, wanting to stay longer. With her next breath, she focused upon the smell of the sharp freshness of salt water.

"Maybe I am wrong," he said. "Maybe you are right about what we did. But you are looking at the situation without the same imminent threat as we faced back then. You are looking at a situation already resolved; judging actions as if we knew all would become so quiet. Knowing what you do now, feeling how you do now, you may have acted differently back then. But you acted as you saw fit with what you had. If you truly see it as a mistake, let it act as a warning to you for the future but do not make it a reason to hate yourself for the past."

Leaning into his side, she said nothing but she was truly contemplating his words. It would help no one to squander the peace and safety they had now found. They were outcasts and it had brought a better life to many of them. She would have to learn to accept it.

She sat up straight and looked at him with a partially forced smile. "Let's go help Arken with the stag."

With a grin in reply, Barjl stood and helped her to her feet. They left the beach in silence.

## Chapter 14

As the golden light of early evening spread across the fields below the palace, Ashyina sat as one member in a circle of six individuals. She listened as they talked about the year that has passed since the celebration.

Taking in a long breath, she wavered her attention slightly from the words being said to note that the Tryaillan air never did feel quite like home. It was a moot point in some ways. She never could return to either of her homes but there was something about this new land that had never welcomed her. Perhaps it did not help matters that she no longer felt like the leader of the Thinkers but the unwitting follower of Kiran's new government. This unofficial demotion was salt in a gaping wound.

As she breathed in the warm air, the pang of homesickness only deepened. There was no bite to it that pierced the nose and made the lungs ragged with its cold humidity. Yes, the winters in their old home had been harsh for the Wolves but they had become part of a comforting cycle. It was the one time of year that the winds themselves tried to wake one up and remind them what the flesh was. It was those sensations that made her feel it had all been justified; those that she would never have experienced had she not guided her people to their fate. On Tryailla, the never changing climate, which was too perfect, had become a sickly reminder of the cause of their exile.

Looking to her right, she saw Lapidus listening intently to Horus' description of his latest adventures. Horus had explored more of not only Tryailla but all of the nearby planets than any of the others since their first incarnations. He was never content to sit in one place and, while he did not share Ashyina's particular disdain for Tryailla, he was not comfortable settling there either.

"That's why I am thinking of leaving," Horus said. "Kiran is very much against it but will not stop me."

Lapidus nodded and murmured his agreement, as did Dyr, Gryp, and Ferra. Ashyina shook her head to clear the fog of her daydreaming.

"What?" she asked sternly. "Where are you going?"

Horus chuckled good-naturedly before replying, "Fa'ah. I am thinking of leaving Tryailla to live there instead. I love you all and you are great company but there is little good wind here."

Fa'ah was one of the other planets Horus had been exploring. He had named it after the sound the winds made through the vast gorges. The valleys were so deep that one could not see the bottoms. With only a few exceptions, it felt more like the planet was simply made of sky and cloud.

"But what about your safety?" Ashyina said shrilly. She had failed miserably at appearing calm and logical, which had caused Horus to jump and eye her with concern and confusion.

"I have nothing to fear," Horus said simply.

Ashyina was now battling her hysteria physically. She could not let any of the others out of her sight. What if Shinga found them? What if they learned the truth? "Shinga will hunt you down, Horus."

He looked at her with slightly too much understanding. "I have no reason to believe that Shinga will find me."

Before Ashyina could argue, Lapidus had placed a hand upon her shoulder and said, "Horus is free to do as he wishes, Ashyina. It is his risk to take."

She looked at him, mouth gaping. How could Lapidus condone this? He had become one of Horus' most loyal admirers but surely, that should make him more concerned for the man's safety. It was all too much. As much as she hated Tryailla, there was safety in numbers and as long as they were all together and all equally hidden, her secret remained safe; the Children remained safe.

Lapidus gave her shoulder a squeeze with his hand. The tactile sensation steadied her and calmed her enough to get control over her breathing.

"I would feel more comfortable," she said much more steadily, "If we could take care of Shinga first." Her comment evoked several eye rolls within the group that were not hidden hastily enough. This made her jump to her feet. "You all think I'm obsessed with this but until Shinga is gone, none of us can ever truly let down our guard. She needs to be destroyed."

Horus raised his hands in a placating gesture as he said, "Let's assume that there is some chance she could find us and that you are right about what must be done. The only one of our kind who has the potential to accomplish such a task is Shinga herself. If you happen to know something the rest of us do not, you are welcome to tell us and to embark upon this quest of yours."

Her mouth opened several times and closed again, seemingly of its own accord, as she knew of nothing she could say in reply. Finally, in a huff, she spun on her heal and left the group.

* * *

Lapidus let out an audible sigh as they watched Ashyina stomp away.

"She was once our leader?" Dyr asked and then quickly gasped as if she realized she had spoken something that had been intended for thought alone.

Waving her comment away, Lapidus replied, "She is not the same woman we once followed. Even if she had guided us and protected us well, she is now head of the council in name only and she knows it. All of these changes have not been easy for her. I think she is tortured by many more emotions than she shares with the rest of us."

Gryp jumped up suddenly, surprising the entire group. He looked as though he had just been woken from a daze and realized he had missed something important. "I think I should go check on her," he said in an uncharacteristic display of concern. He raced after her increasingly small silhouette.

"That was strange," Dyr said to the others who nodded in agreement.

"Maybe we all need to accept that it isn't just our surroundings that are a little different," Horus offered. "We are all different too."

"Is that why you feel you need to leave?" Ferra asked kindly but there was an edge to her voice.

Horus noticed. "You know that isn't why," he defended. "I told you how wonderful it is to soar through those clouds. Those winds feed my thought. I feel like I am apart of them, like I am who I once was before all this mess happened and we were pulled here. Would you truly expect me to deny myself of that?"

Ferra looked depressed. "No," she replied quietly. "But Kiran is right, you know."

Horus eyed her more suspiciously. "Here is the crux," he replied, slightly tartly.

Lapidus wondered if he felt like Kiran and Ferra were ganging up on him.

With a flush in her cheeks, Ferra explained, "He told me what you said and that he is concerned. I know why Kiran is concerned and I have to agree with him. You won't have the same level of protection on Fa'ah as you do here. You know Kiran has constructed special barriers here. How will you hope to achieve the same thing on Fa'ah?"

"I don't see it as a problem," Horus replied lightly. "Are you planning on joining Ashyina's cause? Shinga doesn't worry me. She has not found us yet."

"Shinga may not be the only threat in this universe," Ferra whispered.

Her guilty tone was not lost on the group and it was especially significant for Lapidus who now wondered how unique his past trials had been.

"Tell us what you know," Lapidus demanded more forcefully than he had wanted but the matter was too important to worry about that now.

With much blustering, Ferra insisted she knew nothing and was only suggesting they might not know everything but Lapidus knew too much himself to believe her. Horus and Dyr did not seem convinced either.

"There is nothing in this universe," Horus stated as though to reassure them all. "We saw that when we were brought here; only unthinking beasts of flesh. There is nothing we need to fear as Thinkers."

To Lapidus' surprise, Ferra appeared quite defeated and relented to Horus' stance. "You are right," she agreed. "I don't know what I was thinking. I am sure you will be fine." Lapidus was quite sure that she had done nothing more than resign herself to the thought of Horus meeting a dark − possibly violent − fate. For now, he watched her warily but decided it best not to press his advantage.

"I will not be leaving for several months," Horus added brightly, making an artfully executed effort to brighten the topic. "Kiran has shared with me some wonderful news that I refuse to miss."

Everyone turned to him with anticipation.

"He is going to be a father!" Horus announced happily. "Can you believe our Kiran? Never a single child in his entire existence, despite all our time as flesh, and now he is going to be having his first? I think it is wonderful news."

Dyr clapped her hands excitedly and nearly squealed, "I love the Children. They are so much fun when they are young. Don't you think so, Ferra?" Ferra nodded in agreement but seemed distracted. She stood up without looking at the group and muttered something about having to go before leaving them alone.

"I am beginning to think we are bad company," Horus replied derisively. "Maybe we should head back to the palace before I say something to scare someone else off."

The three of them agreed and headed home in the now dim light as the sun made its last effort to dip below the horizon.

* * *

"Why didn't you tell me?" Ferra nearly screamed as she forced open the doors to Kiran's chambers.

He came running into the room to see her flushed embarrassment. She was staring at Tryailla, who had been was reclined next to the large balcony doors on a long chair covered in soft furs. His lover's eyes popped wide at Ferra's entrance but she quickly regained herself.

"Kiran," she said, "I believe there is a conversation the two of you must have. I will be in the hall having my dinner."

With inspiring grace, she placed her bare feet upon the floor and walked from the room, the delicate folds of her light, sleeveless gown billowing behind her. Despite the situation, Kiran could not help a small smile as he watched her leave but all too quickly, Ferra brought him back to reality.

"For years, we have been closer to each other than to anyone. I alone know your reasons for this entire venture." She waved her hands wildly around to indicate the palace. "I alone know the truth of what we face. I have loved you for years and have even loved you enough to step aside for your happiness and yet with all of that, with all of your secrets that I hold, you told Horus before you told me?"

Kiran's shoulders fell heavily as he let out a long breath. "Horus wasn't supposed to know either," he defended.

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" she shot back angrily. "It still doesn't explain why you haven't told me."

"I wasn't going to tell anyone," Kiran explained, his own temper rising. "I was trying to convince Horus to stay and it slipped out. At least the slip wasn't entirely useless; it has given me several more months to try to change his mind. You know Horus. That man can't keep anything a secret. As much as I enjoy his company, I wouldn't tell him half of what you and Tryailla know."

"So you just assumed he was going to tell me?" Ferra asked, still hurt, but no longer near shouting. "Did I not deserve to hear it from you?"

"Of course you did," he replied as he walked up to her and place both of his large hands upon her shoulders briefly before seeing that the gesture turned her gaze only more sour. After quickly withdrawing his hands, he continued, "I had planned to. I was waiting for the right time. Given our... relationship. I thought it important to treat it with more care that blurting it out like I did with Horus and inevitably, as he has done with you. With all these things going on, the right moment just never seemed to come."

"What do you mean 'all these things going on'?" she asked, now distracted by his wording.

He grabbed at the opportunity to dispel the awkward tension. "Horus isn't the only one who has wanted to leave and it is becoming more and more difficult to convince people it is a bad idea. The longer we are here, the dimmer the spectre of Shinga becomes. And..." He hesitated for a moment, trying to muscle passed an unpleasant truth. "I am wondering more and more myself if it even matters due to my own stupidity," he finished with his eyes upon the ground, as he tasted the bitterness of his own shame.

Ferra placed a gentle hand upon his arm as she quietly asked what he was talking about.

"I never told you why Tryailla chose to live amongst us," he said barely above a gruff whisper. "She had no choice. The risk of the others discovering what she had done had become too great all because I named our new home after her. I named it after her to show my gratitude and it did nothing but jeopardize her life. When I did that, I took all the strength of the protective spells of this place and broke a gaping hole through them. They must still have some efficacy as no one has gone missing yet but Tryailla has become positive it is only a matter of time."

Lifting his head, he tried to read Ferra's expression. As far as he could tell, she was in some form of shock because she was not looking at him. In fact, she was not looking at anything, her eyes were vacant, and her hand began to slide limply down his arm.

"That is why I wasn't sure I wanted to tell anyone about the pregnancy." His hands were shaking as he spoke. "I want to keep our Children safe. No angel has ever done what Tryailla has done. No angel has ever had Children before. We have no idea what they will be like. We have no idea what may happen. And we have no idea what Lilith or her legion will do to them if they learn of their existence." He buried his face in his hands. "How could I have let something so important slip like that? And to Horus of all people? It must be known to the entire palace now."

Wrapping her arm around his broad shoulders as best she could, Ferra gave him a reassuring squeeze. "We'll figure out something," she said in a cracked whisper.

* * *

Gryp followed Ashyina who walked aimlessly through the fields for a time before returning to the palace. He took great care not to catch up to her too quickly.

It had been so long since he last saw the winged wolf that he had begun to forget about the task set him, not that he had felt there was much point anyway. He followed Ashyina now not so much to learn anything new from her mind, which he was sure was not likely to happen, but more in the hopes that his effort would account for something when the strange beast returned for his report. He hoped it would not point out to him the opportunity of seeking Shinga. Though he knew more and more that was his only hope of learning anything useful that might appease those powerful unseen beings, it was an option he was not yet comfortable in pursuing.

Ashyina walked through the large doors into the palace and ignored the gathering crowd who were seeking nourishment. It had become an evening tradition that all the food sources would be pooled together in the main hall for all races to enjoy. It had done little to bridge the gap in relations that thousands of years as different species had formed.

The comingling of their inaugural festivities had proven to be a euphoria-induced exception. The differences in their species had resulted in the pre-existing coteries to re-emerge in the months that followed it.

He noticed three of his own Dragons sitting away from the others, arguing over some of their food. Whether they had segregated themselves or had been forced due to the inevitable food fight that always accompanied a Dragon's meal, he did not know but assumed it would probably be best this way. No Wolves had arrived yet but there were several Cats and Hawks conversing in their own little groups.

As he watched Ashyina head straight for the Hall of Earth, he nearly tripped over Tryailla who had been heading to one of the many low tables where various concoctions of meat and vegetables had been placed.

Her shock at their collision turned nearly to a scowl when she saw who it was. Tryailla always made Gryp uneasy. He could find only one fault in Kiran's taste. Though she was gracefully beautiful, she was still one of the Children, or so they claimed.

What made him uneasy was not only that could he not read her mind and nor Kiran's since she had joined him for that matter but also that she seemed to have taken Kiran's dislike of him and extended it into genuine suspicion.

She nodded curtly to him and looked down at her arms. He had unintentionally grabbed her in their collision and had yet to let go. Quickly, he pulled back his hands and attempted to give an apology that never made it out. She turned her back on him to continue on her way.

He quickly returned to looking for Ashyina. She was gone and must have already entered the Hall of Earth. It would be noticed if he were seen lurking around inside it. He had never deigned himself to visit any of the other inhabited wings. The lack of Wolves at the tables indicated Ashyina would not be alone.

Just as he was debating what to do, a large force hit him hard on the back. He coughed out nearly all of his air with the impact and turned angrily to see Lapidus looking genuinely apologetic.

"Sorry," he said. "I didn't think I was hitting you that hard. You alright?"

Gryp nodded as he gasped for breath, hoping that would end the conversation.

"You should sit with us while we eat," Lapidus offered peaceably. "It isn't good to be as aloof as you are. Talk with everyone. You may find someone you like."

Gryp hoped Lapidus could read the venomous disdain in his eyes and after a moment, he was sure he had because Lapidus quickly added, "Well, I'm famished," before walking briskly away to take a seat next to Tryailla.

* * *

As Lapidus left Gryp behind, he shook his head as if to get some sense into it. Horus' congenial nature must have started to rub off on him. He would never before have bothered to make such a suggestion to Gryp. It was common knowledge that he was a disagreeable man and only Ventha had ever managed to stay around him, most likely for duty's sake more than anything else. He had never had the impression that even Ventha liked Gryp much and he could not help being somewhat surprised at Gryp's lack of concern over Ventha's possible end.

This sudden concern for Ashyina's well-being was also puzzling, though he had to admit that it appeared Gryp had – in his opinion, wisely – thought better of seeking her. Lapidus had learned quickly since their move that when Ashyina was in these moods, she fared best left to her own thoughts.

With an over exaggerated shrug, he dropped himself onto a fur cushion next to Tryailla. He was determined to conjure a much happier conversation despite how much her visage still made its appearance in his nightmares.

"Kiran not joining you tonight?" he offered lightly as he reached for the brown and crispy drumstick of a large bird.

She gave a nearly indistinguishable twitch as she said in low tones, "He is settling matters with Ferra."

Letting out a long breath, Lapidus replied, "I was wondering if the news hit her a bit hard. She left our group so abruptly when it was mentioned."

Tryailla nodded. "She has affection for Kiran that he does not share but they are friends and it is his duty as her friend to help her."

Lapidus was impressed. "You're not jealous of them?"

Tryailla scrunched her face as if the mere suggestion were distasteful. "Why would I waste my time on jealousy?"

"Some people would worry that her continued attentions would help make the feelings more mutual," he explained as nonchalantly as possible.

To his surprise, she threw her head back and laughed heartily. In fact, it took her several minutes of wiping at tear-streaked eyes and doubling over before she could compose herself. Lapidus could only raise a brow at this response.

"I have no fear of such things," she said once she had composed herself enough to gain breath for speech. "I am Kiran's choice and I know his heart. He wants no other." She reached across the table to grab for a clay bowl of red stew that one of the Hawk Children had just invented. She paused thoughtfully before taking a sip.

"I suppose," she said, "If we truly wanted to entertain such a possibility, I would rip out their throats." By the end of the sentence, her tone was happily matter-of-fact. Then she added, "But that is nothing we need to fear." Reaching out, she patted his thigh reassuringly. "Neither of them is nearly so untrustworthy."

For several moments, Lapidus was unsure what to say mostly because her ease at discussing murdering Kiran for any slight brought back his nightmares and further strengthened his suspicion that he had met Tryailla once before.

Kiran had said she was one of the Children. That had scandalized the council enough at first but no one had remembered her amongst them leading Kiran to claim they had simply overlooked her as they often did with the young.

It was often not until they showed great talents that the Thinkers paid them any mind. Even then, the Children often kept to themselves for the most part, socializing only with those Thinkers who had had a part in bringing them life. Lapidus could not help but be reminded painfully of Barjl and Arken.

With a new dryness in his mouth, Lapidus countered, "Not everyone who seems trustworthy lives up to that expectation. We have learned the hard way that there are those who would hurt us for their own gain."

Tryailla nodded in agreement as she sipped her thick soup but said something that worried him more, "Do not be fooled to think those individuals are no longer amongst us."

He watched her intently with these words, determined to read her expression. She offered no clues to the truth of her meaning as she scanned the table. She picked one of the long needle points that had been whittled from a twig. After stabbing the chunks of food that still remained in her bowl, she dropped them happily into her mouth.

"I have been so hungry," she said as though their previous discussion had been nothing more than the weather. "I am convinced there are two bears in my womb not two small babies."

Lapidus asked, "You know how many already?"

She smiled at him. "Yes, of course. Did you not know that part? I guess when Kiran let slip my condition, he forgot to let slip how many."

"Though it can happen, it isn't common for mothers to know how many this early on," he remarked.

She simply smiled again. "I am not most mothers," she said slyly.

"You are definitely not one of the Children," he scoffed before he could catch himself. His eyes went wide with embarrassment, but she surprised him again.

"I had expected you to figure that out long ago," she said without the slightest concern.

"I had suspected," Lapidus replied. "I – I..." he was at a loss.

She turned her attention back to her food as she said, "I am one of them but I am no longer allied with them. They hunt what does not deserve to be hunted. None of you have anything to fear from me."

With this admission, he found his voice again. "I didn't think we did," he said.

He began to wonder to himself why that had been. The topic was beginning to muddle his mind with emotions, bringing back what had happened in too much clarity and force. His efforts to suppress the grief he had worked so hard to overcome felt like a limp arm flopping against a high wind.

He had all but forgotten Tryailla until she spoke once more.

"She really did love you. She was not tricking you. I hope Kiran and I can avoid such a fate," she whispered, still not looking at him.

These words were too much. He could not take them. He could not take a world of strange beings using him as a plaything only to rip away his only happiness. He could not take that Kiran knew it all. Was that why they had left Earth? Was it because of the winged warriors? It had nothing to do with Shinga at all. In the chaotic depths that threw his mind in every direction, he could not help but feel somewhat betrayed by his brother.

The bird leg was resting back on the table now; few bites had been taken from it. He did not remember setting it down but it did not matter. There was a thundering in his ears and even his vision darkened around the edges. He rose from his seat slowly; Tryailla entirely forgotten. He needed to escape, to run. Why was he not a Hawk so that he could fly and put as much distance between himself and reality as possible?

Reality had been suspended, or so it felt as he stood in the dark Hall of Earth. The soft earth beneath his feet gave him familiarity but no comfort. He was vaguely aware of the quiet as most of the others were now seeking their own dinners. Falling to his knees, he buried his face in his hands. He was alone in more than his immediate surroundings. Tryailla and Kiran knew but he could not seek their comfort. He could seek no one's comfort for this.

A rage filled him as his mind darted through the events and it was solely focused upon the faceless beings that directed the entire fiasco. He had always feared another encounter upon that deadly hilltop but now he welcomed the thought. He welcomed it if it meant he could kill who was truly responsible.

Shaking where he knelt, he filled with despair. Such an encounter would not likely happen again, at least not with any fair odds. He could rage against those faceless beings as much as his thought let him and most likely, he would cease to exist. They did not play fair and would allow no mercy for his foolish pain.

He lashed out to punch the air in frustration but his arm stopped abruptly, feminine fingers wrapped around his wrist. Looking up, he had to blink away his emotion before he registered what he saw before him.

Ashyina had knelt down in front of him, apparently checking to see if he was alright. His fist had nearly hit her square in the face but all their hunts must have honed her reflexes, for she now held his arm firmly, preventing the blow. He felt the blood drain from his cheeks.

"I am so sorry, Ashyina," he offered. "I didn't know you were there."

For the first time since the horrifying events of a year ago, Ashyina smiled at him. "I know," she replied peaceably. "I took no care being silent as I approached and you did not notice."

The space between her eyebrows creased with her concern, making her look much more like the Ashyina he had once loved as his best friend. It was that woman he needed most now, a friend who could give him true comfort. "Are you alright?" she asked simply.

"Memories," he choked out, fighting a new threatening wave. "Only memories."

She took a deep breath. "Too many horrible memories," she agreed and leaned forward to embrace him.

"I am so sorry for everything," she whispered into his ear. "I am so sorry this has happened to our people. I should have stopped it long ago."

There was no way she could know what he was really going through but her own morose tone prevented him from taking the opportunity to tell her. Mentally kicking himself, he forced his mind to remember acutely that Ashyina was going through her own troubles, ones that had taken a toll on her that she had had difficulty moving passed. He could not burden her further, at least not until she had recovered from Shinga's betrayal. He squeezed her in comforting reply.

She pulled back and looked at the ground. "Nothing is as it should be," she whispered. "But I cannot figure out what to do about it. I feel like..." she let out a frustrated breath. "I feel like I need to go after Shinga because it is the only thing I can think of to do. I feel so alone, because no one else agrees."

Gently, Lapidus took her face in his hands so that he could look into her eyes. "There is only one thing you need to do. Take care of yourself. Everyone else is fine. Shinga has not found us. I doubt she will find Horus or anyone else who chooses to leave for other homes. The universe is too vast. At the very least, we have a very long time until we need to worry about such things. And if you ever meet her again, being in the state you are now will not help your survival. You need to move on and find happiness again."

He firmed his grip so that she looked back into his eyes, which had drifted downward. "You do not deserve to be this unhappy," he said. "You are Ashyina, leader of the Wolves and my best friend. Whatever punishment you think you deserve for the events is unfair. Whatever you think you have done to bring this about, I forgive you."

Her eyes became glassy with her tears and she collapsed against his chest. The unexpected impact nearly pushed him off balance but with sure strength, he managed to avoid a comedic tumble. One of her arms draped around his neck as she sagged against him and shuddered with silent sobs. All he could do was hold her in return, reassuringly stroking her back with one hand, as he waited for her to come back to herself.

To his surprise, he found the warmth of her against him comforting. In the last four years, he had taken lovers to help distract him from his own grief. Holding Ashyina, he felt as vulnerable as he had with the first. Back then, it had helped for a time almost no longer than the act itself but at least it had helped. At this moment, with her letting loose all her built up anxieties against his body, he began to wonder why he had not come to her for support those years ago.

He knew they had grown apart as Ashyina had been wracked with her own self-inflicted guilt but was he really such a poor friend to have allowed that to come between them? Why had he not told her about his dreams long before Shinga had lost her thought? Why had he not trusted his best friend? Now, his own guilt shifted towards Ashyina. She did not deserve how isolated he had become from her and he had hurt both of them in the process.

This warmth of comfort, holding another Thinker, reminded him of what he had inexplicably denied himself for much of his time in the flesh. He had waited for the haunting woman of his dreams only to have been the one to kill her. He had been waiting for a dream, a nightmare, and shunned the reality.

Turning his head downwards, he tried to get a better look at the woman clutched to him and he realized he had had a mate long ago without realizing it. They had been partners in thought for a longer time than the Children could ever hope to comprehend. Shinga had been involved but now Shinga was far away in thought and body.

He lifted Ashyina's chin to look at him. Her cheeks were wet with her tears. For only a moment, he marvelled at them. This woman had always been one of the strongest of them all and was now broken into pieces. With a rough thumb, he brushed the droplets away. She was so close to him. Her body was so warm.

Her lips were so equally warm and they were soft. He had almost no recollection of leaning in for the kiss but now that his mouth covered hers, he had no intention of holding back. His winged warrior was gone, if she had ever existed. Reality felt more like a dream these days. He kissed Ashyina more hungrily and she, to his sudden surprise, kissed him back. Determined not to deprive himself anymore, he leaned her back upon the mossy floor, covering her body with his.

## Chapter 15

Akym whooped excitedly as he was unable and unwilling to temper the excitement that overtook his senses. Without delay, he gathered the seven stones in his hands, carrying them as best he could without dropping them, for they were far too precise to lose. He ran to share his news with Gringa.

As with the first few stones, the remaining four had fallen quite unpredictably into Akym's lap. He had stumbled upon one while walking in the savannah one day and the other three were given to him. Not a single finder aside from himself had been able to explain why they had picked up the stone.

While Gringa had initially shown scepticism about their worth, she now admitted that Akym's intuition must have had some basis as their similarity and perfection seemed far too strange to have occurred by random chance. Despite her own curiosity, she allowed Akym to continue his experiments with the stones with a fervent passion and remained content to listen to his theories without actively interfering. Unfortunately, until this moment, Akym had had only rudimentary suspicions that had yet to find purchase in evidence. Now, he finally had something to share with her.

It was a long way back to the Monkey's waterfall. He had taken to long journeys for his experiments so that he could concentrate without interruption. At first, his venturing beyond their small population had been viewed with some worry by the others. The threat of Shinga's wrath had still been fresh in their minds.

Akym did not care about such things. Only the stones mattered and, as the years had passed uneventfully, he had been proven correct that the stones were more important than worrying about Shinga.

It was not until he reached the village to find almost everyone gathered to eat the evening meal that he realized how long he had been gone. It was long before sunrise when he had left and now the red sun cast long shadows upon the ground. Scanning the assembled group of several dozen, he finally found Gringa, who was leaned over a young man as she reached towards the bounty of food for a piece of fruit. She looked up, saw him beckoning to her, and smiled with relief.

"I was beginning to wonder if we would have to form a hunting party to find you," she said cheerily as she walked over to him. As she came closer, he saw her expression change as she surveyed his face. "What is it?" she asked.

"They are not simply stones," he replied. "I've discovered something. Let me show you."

Kneeling down, he placed the seven stones upon the earth. Having examined them so often, he was extremely familiar with each one and could tell them apart when no other person could. Quickly and efficiently, he placed the triangulated stones flat side down in a circle and in precisely the same order he had stumbled upon earlier that day. Immediately, they could see what happened.

The stones no longer looked to be boring grey rocks. Instead, the one at the top of his circle shone with a dim yellow. The two that he had placed in order to the right of it turned a deep maroon. The fourth in the circle gave the faintest blue; the fifth red; the sixth green; the seventh yellow. With this obvious display, he looked up at Gringa who was staring at the stones in awe.

As she reached out a tentative hand to touch the colours, she asked, "What does it mean?"

"I have a theory but this isn't all. Listen," he instructed as he beckoned her to crouch down next to him and place her ear close to the stones.

They hummed together making a strange tone. Gringa looked confused.

"Can you not hear the differences?" Akym asked more curious than frustrated.

She looked as though she tried but could not make out the same distinctions as he. To this, he sat back on his haunches and explained.

"Each one sings with a different vibration, just like us. It is the vibrations together that make the overarching tone. That isn't all," he added emphatically. "By listening to these all afternoon, I have determined that the frequencies of most of the vibrations are equidistant from each other, except for the first and last of course. I have determined that I am missing one stone that should be placed between the Red and the Green. Beyond that, there could be any number more to find or no more."

His explanation must have been difficult to digest. Gringa followed his example as she sat back on her haunches but stared vacantly into the distance for many moments. He was just about to attempt to get her attention again when she shook her head as if to bring herself back to their conversation.

"What is the theory you mentioned?" she asked seriously.

"I have a couple, all based in the same reasoning," he began excitedly. "First, the vibrations together appear to alter the vibration in the centre of the circle significantly. I began to think of our manipulations of vibrations and what we can accomplish. The most likely explanation is that the converted vibration can be used either to alter something or to teleport it. Like the vessels we created for the others. I placed a normal rock in the middle of the circle to see what affect the vibrations had upon it. Nothing happened. I am convinced that all the stones must be required for them to function as intended."

"Intended by whom?" she asked nervously.

The question had caught him completely off guard. Until this moment, the thought had not occurred to him. These stones were no random occurrence in nature. He was sure of that now that he considered the matter. Could they have been created by a Thinker? Wouldn't they have known if that were the case?

Looking past Gringa, he watched those who were gathered to share in the provided nourishment. He looked at the young man who had first manipulated the earth and shown him how. He began to wonder if perhaps it had been him. Gringa followed his gaze and seemed to comprehend his thoughts.

"I don't think so," she said, shaking her head. "He was one of the first to give you a stone, remember? He did not know what it was then. I doubt he had anything to do with it."

Akym's shoulders sagged unintentionally. "Then my discovery today has only created a bigger mystery," he said, defeated.

To his surprise, Gringa laughed and placed a reassuring hand upon his shoulder. "My friend," she said, "You should know by now that is always how it works."

* * *

Lapidus winced at the hard punch in the back Horus gave him as they embraced, saying their good-byes. Although he could teleport to Fa'ah to visit, Hawks were notoriously difficult to track down, which is how they liked it. He had no doubt that the next time he met Horus, it would be on Horus's terms alone. It was for this reason he could not help but feel a similar twinge of regret as he did the day they had fled their home on Earth. There was an unwelcome uncertainty and finality to it that made it difficult for him to swallow.

Once Horus released his crushing grip upon Lapidus' shoulders, he turned to Ashyina who had been standing next to the two men. She smiled at him but Lapidus could tell it was forced. Since their mating, she had become much happier, even willing to let go of Shinga's betrayal. Everyone had remarked that she was much easier to be around again, much more like her old self. However, this still had not changed her opinion on Horus' leaving nor had it improved her overall opinion of Horus himself.

She had confessed to Lapidus that she had still found the man grating. Lapidus suspected that Horus had an idea of her feelings though he refused to indulge them, as he proved at that moment. He hugged her so exuberantly that her feet were lifted off the ground.

Setting the flustered Ashyina down, he said a jovial good-bye before turning his attention to the other council members present. Lapidus could not help but shoot her a smirk to which she scowled though there was none of the old depression in her eyes.

"I will miss you," Horus said boldly to Kiran as he slapped him heartily on the shoulder.

Kiran was standing with one arm cradling his tiny son and the other around Tryailla's shoulders. She held the boy's twin sister who had somehow managed to sleep through Horus' boisterous manner.

Though no one had said it, perhaps because everyone had had their own suspicions about Tryailla herself, the twins had a rather remarkable trait. They were born looking human and, indeed, spent most of their time in that form. While their transformation into Cats had happened upon occasion since they had been born several weeks prior, it was so uncommon that most had only heard of it and not seen it for themselves. It had fuelled rumours that Tryailla was actually a Monkey Child that had broken from her people.

Tryailla rocked the small girl and softly sang the same tune that Lapidus had heard her croon to them many times since their birth. It was always the same slow and mournful melody. He did not think he much cared to know the origin of it.

As she continued to comfort the child, Lapidus could not help but feel a slight revulsion at the tiny, pink, wrinkled body. He had never seen a child born with so little hair. While the human features in such a tiny form had some cute qualities, they were so foreign that he had trouble seeing the degree of cuteness that Kiran, the devoted father, boasted.

"Are you sure you won't reconsider?" Kiran offered as amicably as he could. It had been no secret that he had spent the duration of Tryailla's pregnancy trying to convince – and sometimes outright browbeat – Horus to stay. There had been many public arguments between the two of them.

Horus smiled kindly but his eyes narrowed. "You cannot stop me, my friend," he warned. "Besides," he added much less seriously, "There are several of the Hawks who are considering joining me."

"So I've heard," Kiran replied dryly. "It appears our experiment has been a failure."

"Not at all," Horus offered. "It has shown us what differences these forms can make. We are not the same beings we were. We have changed with our differing experiences."

"Is there really no more common ground?" Kiran asked as if he did not expect an answer but Horus did not let the comment drop.

"Of course there is but we must not ignore our differences. That would lack thought." he replied with another hearty slap to Kiran's shoulder. The gesture jostled the baby boy so much he looked as though he were going to give one of his great wails before falling asleep in mid-inhale.

Turning, Horus looked down at the smaller Ferra and flashed a large smile before giving her the same treatment that Ashyina had received. "Find a young man to entertain you," he instructed. "You have become far too serious."

She gave a weak smile but did not reply, giving only a small mutter of good-bye as he set her back upon her feet.

Dyr, who had learned long ago how to deal with Horus' overwhelming personality, smiled at him kindly as he approached her. Before he could get a chance to embrace her, she punched him just beneath the ribs. This would have scandalized any other group but those assembled had seen this comedic display too much to intervene as Horus laughed between wheezes, holding himself up by resting a large hand upon her tiny shoulder.

"I will be checking on you soon," she said in her sweet voice but there was also a warning edge to her tone. "Don't hide from me or I will tell the others you are dead."

He was still wheezing slightly but nodded emphatically in reply. Evidently, Dyr did not find this good-bye to be as emotional as the rest of them, though she did give a few small pats upon Horus' back to help him recover his breath. Igella, who had been standing next to Dyr, joined in half-heartedly. She was the only one present who seemed to take Horus' departure personally.

Once he regained himself, he commented on it. "Of everyone here, you are the one who can find me the most easily. Why are you upset? We will probably see plenty of each other."

She bowed her head and muttered something no one could hear. Horus asked her to repeat it to which she broke into uncharacteristic sobs. Unlike the display between Dyr and Horus, this caught all gathered by surprise and Ferra immediately walked over to embrace her friend. It took several moments for her to calm enough to be coherent. Between great, gasping breaths, she explained.

"There are s-s-so f-few of us left. I-I-I don't want to lose anyone else," she cried and inhaled another quavering breath. "It all fe-feels so lonely!"

Horus was genuinely taken aback. "How is this any different than when we all lived on opposite ends of the same planet and could not teleport?"

She shrugged but replied, "We didn't have Thinkers being murdered and not coming back."

Everyone looked at each other nervously. It was true, it had been almost four years since they had left earth, and there had been no sign of Ventha or Avorlig in new forms. While it was still possible their reincarnated bodies were still too young, the more time passed, the less hope any of them had.

Lapidus, given his own nightmares, had begrudgingly accepted long ago that they would likely never be returning. Igella's sobs only echoed what they had all felt at one time or another.

Horus looked at Igella kindly. "If I do not return here," he said, "It will be because I choose and for no other reason. I will not be taken down by anyone, let alone a former Thinker." His voice was strong and determined as though he was vowing it to himself as much as to her.

She nodded in agreement but there appeared to be no conviction behind it. Her movement was weak and floppy. Ferra still held the woman close, stroking her hair in comfort.

Horus steeled himself to turn to the final council member present. Gryp, for his part, appeared to be unmoved by what had transpired and was currently giving Horus a warning glare. To Horus' credit, he did not press the issue and, without touching Gryp, offered a friendly farewell. Gryp nodded firmly in reply.

With this, Horus turned and gave one last good-bye to all of them before he was gone. No one made a sound except for Igella's crying. The warm Tryaillan breeze buffeted them as they looked at each other, only now comprehending the significance of what Horus had done, of what it showed about the rest of their people.

After some time, they all began to break away from the group. Ashyina took Lapidus' hand in hers to lead him back to their home in the palace. He followed silently.

It was not until they were in the comfort of their secluded forest that she spoke.

"I don't blame him," she said quietly as she settled herself down upon the floor, leaning against one of the trees.

Lapidus was confused. He settled down next to her and began to stroke her hand. It lay limply upon the moss.

"You were almost angrier than Kiran when he suggested he leave and I know that hasn't changed," he said.

She heaved a sigh. "That's not what I mean. I do not think it wise that he left but I know why he did it."

He watched her face carefully but her expression remained unchanged, as she stared vacantly into the distance.

"This place doesn't feel like home," she continued after her pause. "If any planet were capable of thought, it would be this one because this planet has never welcomed me."

"I understand that it doesn't feel the same," he replied. "It definitely doesn't have that familiarity of our old caves but I would hardly say it feels unwelcoming."

Her eyes closed and he admired her dark lashes as he listened to her breath.

"Perhaps it is just me," she said finally.

"Exactly," he replied emphatically. "Once we have been here longer, you will start to feel this is more like home than Earth ever was."

Her head turned towards him, her eyes opening to look at him a second later. Her expression, he knew, was intended to placate but he could tell she did not agree. Lifting the hand he had been caressing, she placed it upon his cheek.

"Would you come with me, if I left like Horus?" she asked.

The question surprised him but he knew the answer easily. "Yes," he said simply.

She smirked but said nothing before pulling him towards her so that she could cuddle into his shoulder. As he held her, with his chin resting on her head, he prayed to himself that she would never make such a request. It had not failed his notice that the disappearances had stopped once they had come to Tryailla and he was sure that it had everything to do with who Kiran's lover really was. If Ashyina wanted to leave, he was not convinced she would remain safe. With everything in his being, he did not want to relive that battle.

* * *

"He loves you, you know," Arken said over the water of the stream as he surveyed for signs of just the right fish to skewer. His carved harpoon was held at the ready above his shoulder.

Shinga shrugged as she split open those already caught and arranged them upon stones in the bright sunlight to dry. The dried fish made a delicious snack on the days it was too hot to hunt.

"He knows I do not feel the same way," she called back. "We are friends and we are good that way."

"How long do you really think friendship will last?" he asked right before plunging his harpoon through a large salmon with lightning speed.

"A real friendship will always last," she replied calmly and with certainty.

He looked up at her. "You haven't noticed it then," he commented.

Stopping her task, she looked back. "Noticed what?"

Before he could reply, a petite young woman broke out from the trees across the river from her. Shinga jutted out her chin to indicate her to Arken.

"Fenda!" he called happily when he turned to see who had arrived.

Since joining their family, Fenda had grown close to Arken. Shinga was quite sure that Barjl's boasting was correct. Arken's innocent flirtations indicated much more. Though they had hidden the full extent of their relationship thus far, Shinga could not help but feel happy for Arken.

It was difficult not to like the girl no matter one's mood. He was an honourable young man and Fenda was equally good-natured – "I didn't notice a gofer hole and tripped and nearly fell into a pile of deer droppings," she called back to him – if not somewhat clumsy.

He laughed and replied, "This is why we don't let you hunt. You scare all the animals away."

The girl worked her way to the river's edge and began to find exposed stones to use as a bridge before Arken insisted on helping her. "You're likely to break your neck," he teased again.

She nudged him in the ribs. "You just want an excuse to touch me," she said.

To this, Shinga shook her head and returned to her task.

"Ow! That's sharp!"

Shinga whipped her head up again to see what was the matter. Arken was steadily holding Fenda's arm as she leaned down to pick up the offending culprit. Whatever it was appeared to have enthralled her as she picked it up and turned it over in her hand. Arken looked equally perplexed as he examined it alongside her.

"What is it?" Shinga called.

"We'll bring it to you," Fenda yelled back and with Arken's help they made their way to Shinga.

Fenda held out the small object. It appeared to be a stone but, despite having been in the river, was not worn to a soft rounded shape like most rocks but had perfectly straight sides that came into points so that it was pyramidal. The most striking characteristic was that it was entirely dry despite having just been retrieved from a flowing river.

Reaching out, Shinga wrapped her fingers around it. The moment her flesh touched the stone, a violent shiver ripped through her body. It was entirely painful and entirely pleasurable at the same time. It felt like home, their true home. It felt like everything she had ever wanted. It felt like her and, somehow, it felt like someone else entirely, someone whose face she could not see but who felt more familiar to her than her own family.

As the feeling began to subside, Shinga opened her eyes, which she had not realized she had closed. Arken and Fenda were looking down at her, palpably concerned.

"What was that?" Arken asked.

Shinga, unsure of how to answer him, looked down at her hand. It had clenched around the stone so tightly that blood dripped from her palm. She opened her fingers to see the stone was no longer a pale grey. It was as red as her own blood. She rubbed her thumb over the surface to remove the stain. It did not disappear.

Without a word, she took the stone back to the water and plunged it beneath the cool surface to clean it. However, when she pulled it back out, it was solidly the colour of her blood though her hand was now clean. The stone itself had changed colour.

As she turned it over in her palm, she began to notice symbols shimmering like the river in the sun. They were faint at first but became more discernable in a matter of moments. They meant nothing to her and yet they felt as though they should mean something. And the hum. There was a humming, almost like a song. That too seemed familiar like a memory she should not have forgotten.

"Are you alright?" Arken asked at her shoulder. She nearly jumped, as she had not noticed his approach.

Nodding, she asked, "Fenda, do you mind if I keep this?"

Fenda nodded in agreement but her face showed her confusion and fear.

"I think we have gathered enough fish for today," Shinga announced, getting to her feet. "We should get back home."

Arken stopped her. "Not until you tell me what happened. What is that thing?" He asked.

Looking into his eyes, she saw that it was not only Fenda who was afraid. Were they afraid of the stone or her? Strangely, she could not tell. Honesty seemed the best action. "I don't know what it is," she admitted, "But I feel as though I should. Maybe your father will have more ideas."

Placated though not eased, Arken agreed and they all worked to gather their haul to return home.

## Chapter 16

Several months had passed since Horus' departure. True to her word, Dyr insisted upon checking on him every few weeks. Horus, despite being convinced that the concern with his welfare had been needlessly exaggerated, had been cooperative in her periodic visits and had not attempted to avoid her. Dyr's uneventful reports upon her return always eased Kiran's heart for a few days until he began to worry again that maybe this time he would be taken by the Gods and Dyr would not find him again.

If Horus was tested by the angels, there was no guarantee that they would not find out about Tryailla. Once they knew the name, they would know exactly what had happened and Kiran's family would be at significant risk. Even without the name, they could all be at risk simply due to Horus' knowledge of the planet.

Sitting upon his balcony, he looked out over the sharp peaks of the mountain ranges below the palace. He rocked his son, who they had decided to name Turgim. Tryailla had said it was a name with strong vibrations that boded well for their descendants. Kiran thought that if anything it indicated a large waist line. The boy had become quite pudgy since his birth.

His mind wandered back to Gods, as it always did. He attempted to convince himself that Dyr would always return with news of Horus' continued good health, showing the Gods' did not care. Nevertheless, his attempts to ease his own worries simply fed his cyclical torment. Even with the news of Horus' safety, it would be only a matter of hours before he wondered if that was still the case. His fear for his people grew as the days passed, for there were increased murmurings of others wishing to do the same thing.

Many of the Hawks had shared Horus' sentiment that the air currents on Tryailla made for irritating flight. The stories of the Planet of Air, which many of them were now calling Fa'ah, were proving too enticing and more and more of the Children were voicing their opinion to migrate once more.

Even Ashyina's opposition was beginning to wane. With each safe return of Dyr with good news, she seemed to be less and less adverse to the others venturing on their own. Kiran could not help but wonder if she was beginning to think that Shinga lacked the ability to track the rest of them.

These new developments caused Kiran's guts to remain permanently clenched, regardless of his form. His efforts to protect the people were crumbling around him and he could do nothing to convince them otherwise without risking much more. Tryailla had explained on several occasions that if the gods knew all the Thinkers and their Children were aware of the situation, they would most likely be wiped out immediately, with no chance at a test. A mass uprising of beings with free will was not something they wished to entertain.

So long as the Thinkers had the potential to be useful and had characteristics to peak their curiosity that were not outweighed by the threat, the gods were content to take their time. As the Thinkers would be at a loss for how to confront such an enemy baldly, their best hope was to remain ignorant until something more could be done.

It was not simply a matter of his fear for the safety of those who left, or even those who stayed. Kiran could not help but feel a painful nostalgia for what they had once been as a race. They had been many voices of one mind. Ultimately, they had always been amongst each other. There had been no separation as they knew it now. Yet, the bodies they had chosen to inhabit, the forms that they had so long viewed as a prison, had become a source of an individuality that no longer seemed foreign. Now, even the council of the Thinkers held to these differences as cherished talismans. The more this separation was lauded, the more people pulled away and the lonelier he began to feel despite his loving family and good friends. He felt as though they were drifting away from each other and, though he had valued some degree of curmudgeonly behaviour in the past, he did not much care for the extremes of this new direction.

Tryailla's lyrical voice broke into his self-torment.

"Mierna absolutely adores Ferra," she said happily, as she walked over to the chaise next to him and lowered herself onto it.

He could not help but admire her graceful manner. He had seen the warrior on more than one occasion, so he never once believed her delicate movements indicated frailty or weakness but he did enjoy the artistry of them.

"She would not stop crying for me," she continued. "Ferra offered to give me a few minutes rest from the fussing and the moment Ferra wrapped her arms around that little girl, not only did she stop crying on the spot but she began to giggle."

He smiled at the imagery. "That's only because Ferra is always smiling back," he said. "She doesn't have to stay up all night with a distraught child."

She gave a small chuckle in agreement and looked out over the balcony, breathing in the view. "This won't last forever," she said seriously.

"What won't?" he asked.

Turning her head, she looked into his eyes. She was not upset and that was what worried him. He had learned that with the exception of her hysteria over his choice of names for the planet, she became pragmatic when discussing the gods and the angels.

"It is only a matter of time before Dyr returns with what we expect or, worse still, doesn't return herself. To be honest, I have been quite surprised we have gone this long. Neither of them has a cloth. Neither of them believes they are necessary. That means the angels know where they are. Why they have not acted concerns me greatly."

"Is that not a good thing?" he asked. "They haven't found us yet."

"Do not be lulled into a false sense of security, Kiran. Simply because we have heard nothing does not mean there is nothing to hear. There is likely something much more dangerous transpiring than we could understand at this moment."

Her words reaffirmed his most frightening nightmares and he could not help feel somewhat bitter that she refused to be more optimistic. One of them had to be, did they not?

"I wanted to talk to you about this because we must think of Mierna and Turgim. They will be at much higher risk than even the two of us," she said.

He felt himself getting angry, which was a strange sensation. He could never seem to become angry with her under normal circumstances. "What do you mean?" he asked. "You never told me they could be at greater risk than you or I."

For her part, she was surprised by his reaction. "Of course they will be," she said. "I thought that would have been obvious. They are half angel, Kiran. There have never been beings like them. The gods may see them as a great prize or a great threat. Either way they will be hunted. The fewer people who know of their parentage the better."

"What are you saying? That we have to give them to someone else to hide away?" he boomed angrily. "I am not giving my Children over to anyone else. If they need protection, I will protect them until my last thought."

"And what then?" she asked, remaining calm in the face of his outburst. "These Children are not likely to die like those of the other Thinkers. These Children are angels. They could likely live beyond their flesh just as you can. We are not talking about protecting their lives, Kiran. We are talking about protecting their souls and those of their descendants. Do you not see how important this is?"

"So important that we must abandon them?" He yelled, causing Turgim to cry. He barely heard it. There was too much anger thundering in his ears.

"I never said that," she replied, remaining aggravatingly calm. "Kiran, think about this logically. You are the Thinker, not me. You should be able to understand this better than I. There have never been angels with their own will before. How I have managed to develop is unheard of. There were others similar to me but none as free. It is this will that the gods fear. If the angels develop their own desires and the ability to act upon them, they will have the uprising they have always feared. If there are angels with will, they can help the Thinkers defeat the gods. Do you not see? Our Children are the hope for your people. Our Children and their Children are the only hope. They are more important than our selfish love."

She stood, walked over to him, and reached up to place a reassuring hand upon his cheek. It was this gesture that made him realize he had jumped to his feet in his anger. She looked into his eyes meaningfully before turning her attentions to the still wailing Turgim.

The moment her soft fingers touched his round cheeks, the young boy ceased his crying and looked back into his mother's doting eyes. The comprehension in the child's face was much more than Kiran had seen in fully-grown adults. Moreover, it was this expression that confirmed for him that Tryailla was right. Their angel heritage had more weight than he was willing to accept placing upon such small Children.

Without taking her eyes from her son, Tryailla said, "They are no threat if they are simply your Children. It is only I who has brought such danger to them." She paused. "Ferra would make a wonderful mother and she adores you."

"What are you talking about?" he asked, his blood going cold at her words.

Now she did look into his eyes and, somehow without a flinch or a tear, said, "They will come for your people again. Once they do, I must leave. I will evade them for as long as I can but staying means assured death for all of us. If I leave, there is a chance they will assume the damage I have caused is minimal, that only you, who named this land for me, knows the truth. So long as they believe that, we have a chance to protect the Children. Ferra must become your mate. She must become their mother."

His mouth went dry. He did not much care for what she was suggesting. "But everyone knows you are their mother," he reasoned.

She scoffed at him but seemed to restrain herself somewhat, most likely out of kindness. "Aside from you, Ferra, and Lapidus, the people have all but ignored me. They will not miss my absence and it is not uncommon for Children of your kind to belong to the community. We have been selfish enough to keep them to ourselves. Trust me, my love. They will happily ignore my role once I am gone. Remember, you broke a taboo in taking a 'Child' for a mate. People are often eager to forget such breaches of impropriety."

"You are making a rather risky assumption," Kiran remarked.

"Only because it is the only assumption I can allow myself to make," she said as she turned away from him to look out to the mountains once more. "I have been foolish enough to this point. If I had been as affected by your thought before we met, I would have tried to protect you in silence. I would never have brought such danger upon you or our Children. The gods are selfish and it was not until I encountered you that I realized it but now I see that my lack of though ensured I acted with equal self-absorption."

The last several words had a quaver that cut through Kiran's chest. Reaching out, he meant to stroke her hair, to comfort her, but she walked away. Stopping at the door, she said without looking at him, "I love you, Kiran. I love our Children. That is why I must protect you."

She left him alone with his shock.

* * *

A sudden draft tickled Shinga's skin, calling her to attention. Before realizing she had been unconscious, she had already sat bolt upright and was now blinking into the late morning sun. Her hands were helping hold her up and what confused her was that they felt as though they were resting upon soft earth.

With her family's abilities, they had long ago altered the inside of a secluded hill that overlooked a small stream to create a comfortable dwelling and they had long since ceased sleeping directly upon the earth, instead using cushions of furs and mats made by woven grasses. While they had created panels that could be opened and closed to let in air and light, the amount of both currently accosting her senses must have been coming from the south, indicating they gained access through the open door.

As her eyes continued to adjust and she attempted to remove the blur of sleep, she realized that she was not alone as she had first thought. Several people were gathered around her but in the shadows, out of the shaft of light of the sun.

Barjl was crouched near her right foot, looking extremely concerned. Fenda was next to him but closer to Shinga's head. Arken knelt to her left and she had the vague sense of several others gathered behind them. She thought she glimpsed Uri and Diurd. Everyone looked terrified. Though Bistell's blue eyes shifted nervously, he looked more like he was trying to copy everyone else to avoid looking the fool.

"What is going on?" Shinga asked curiously, as she attempted to stretch out her back.

Despite her sudden awakening and the strangeness of the situation, she still felt as though she had simply woken from a long sleep, though this feeling was somewhat shaken by her realization that she had already been in human form.

Collectively the group turned their heads towards Shinga's knees. Perplexed, she followed their gaze to the fabric draped over her legs. It was not her knees that drew such attention; it was the small stone resting upon the fabric there as if it had fallen there when she sat up. She blinked some more, not because the light was still too bright or because she had just awoken, but because the stone was exactly like the one she had found in the river only the strange swirling symbols upon this stone were still shimmering brightly.

"Where is the other stone?" she asked without taking her eyes from her lap.

In reply, Arken held out the deep red object to her and said, "It was lying next to your head."

This was not right. She had distinctly remembered placing the stone upon the edge of the window she slept nearest. As far as she could remember, she had neither picked it up nor decided to sleep in the middle of the floor. Tentatively, she reached out and took the stone from Arken with one hand before picking up the new stone in her other hand. Though nothing happened like it had that first day, she could feel that familiar song from the stones, bolder this time and now with almost an element of happiness. That could not be right. How could stones be happy?

"What happened?" Shinga repeated.

Those gathered looked at each other nervously which made Shinga feel more irritated. Why could they not simply answer her? She was just about to tell them so when Barjl spoke up.

"We don't really know," he began. "We have never seen anything like that before. After the morning meal, we all came in here seeking shade. We were in the middle of a conversation when you stood up and turned towards the door."

"You mean I woke up?" she asked.

Barjl shook his head, looking only more confused. "No, you were with us the entire morning. You were sitting here with us when it happened. You started to glide towards the door. Your feet were not even touching the ground. I called your name but you didn't answer."

His words were chilling Shinga to the bone.

"When you were near the door," he continued, "You suddenly flew backwards as if you had been shot with an arrow or a spear. You fell back upon the floor and..." He looked around at the others awkwardly. Barjl was never awkward.

"What is it?" she insisted.

Taking a deep breath, he explained, "You began to writhe and moan."

Given everything else, what was so strange about that? Looking down at the new stone, she said, "So this thing caused me pain?" The moment the words were out of her mouth, her recollection of the first stone she had found came back to her. She felt her cheeks become hot.

Barjl must have noticed her flush because he suddenly continued with his explanation, "It lasted only a few moments before you suddenly sat upright and looked at us."

She was examining the stones again, trying desperately to figure out what they were. After the first incident, they had been confused enough. If this was going to become a common occurrence, Shinga was downright irritated not to mention embarrassed. Scrambling to her feet, she clutched both stones in her hands and said, "I need to figure out what these mean."

As she headed for the doorway, Barjl called to her back. "Are you sure you should be alone?" he called.

"I will be fine," she replied. Despite her discomfort and fear, she somehow knew she was right but Barjl was not convinced.

"You need to consider my theory," he said. "You have said nothing since I suggested it and I think you are too easily dismissing it."

Shinga scowled and turned to face him. "I am stronger than her. I have accomplished skills that are still in their infancy for her. There is no way these were made by her."

"You don't know that," he reasoned. "They could be intended to seek you and harm you. It has been over four years since you last saw her. Who knows what she has learned."

Shinga gritted her teeth at the suggestion. "I would know," she seethed. "We are not speaking of her again." She stormed from their home leaving the others standing silently and awkwardly in her wake.

When she had gone sufficiently far to be left alone, she stopped, closed her eyes, and took in a deep, cleansing breath. The light of the sun now felt comfortingly familiar and yet her being still felt cold beneath it. Letting out her breath in a huff, she looked down at the small stones in her hands. They were still singing to her.

These stones were important. The strangeness of them said as much. Nevertheless, it was the unidentifiable qualities that said the most to her. She knew these stones were not from Ashyina. It was not petty denial. Their vibrations were too welcoming, too loving. As sure as she was that they were not sent by her nemesis, she was also sure that they were not intended to harm her or at least that they did not harm her.

Their resonance caressed her thought in a way no other had ever managed. They did not feel like her. They did not hum with her own vibration but they did comfort it. They reached out to it and joined with it in a way that niggled at her mind and tormented it with memories refusing to surface. Nothing else in her existence had felt like home as much as these did and this confused her even more.

She remembered her home. She remembered that void in which they dwelled long before being pulled into this place. These stones were nothing like that. In fact, what was more worrying was that they made that place seem distasteful and painful to her.

Without knowing why, she collapsed to her knees, held the stones tightly to her chest, and began to cry.

## Chapter 17

Gryp paced nervously through the Hall of Spirit. He had been weighing his options, trying desperately to deny the only one left to him.

Ashyina was proving entirely useless. No one could care about such mundane thoughts as she was now prone ever since joining with Lapidus. Gryp could not help but growl at the situation. He never much approved of council members mating but the fact that their union caused such a distraction for them made his blood boil. Time must surely have been running out. It had been so long since the last visit from the Wolf. He was now nearly beside himself in terror.

It was only this terror that could overcome his previous apprehensions about returning to Earth to seek Shinga. Somehow, he would have to beg her forgiveness. He had no doubt she would be able to find him. Her skills had grown so swiftly since Ashyina and Avorlig's plan that he was quite sure he had just as much to fear from her now as he did from the strange beings.

Taking out the small cloth from an inside fold in his robes, he wondered if it truly could protect him from Shinga. If he returned, perhaps it would prevent her from exacting her wrath upon him. Somehow, he knew it would not but the small trinket represented an equally small hope he refused to ignore purely out of desperation, though it did little to ease his thought.

His agitation continued to eat at him, making him fearful of everything and irritated by the smallest things. Even now, his own robes, which were ultimately a part of him felt too constrictive. He pulled at them, trying to get them to sit more comfortably. When he felt he could take no more, he decided to take to the skies and rid himself of the burdens of his human form. Perhaps a moment's reprieve would help him gather the courage to leave Tryailla. As he walked from the hall, he barely noticed a small portion of fabric flutter to the floor.

* * *

As Kiran stormed out of the palace to stop beneath the grand archway, he saw the silhouette of Gryp's Dragon form becoming steadily smaller as he flew into the distant sky. At least Gryp had not been causing any trouble, he thought to himself. Then he scoffed at the realization that the man he had once found the most irritating also seemed to be the man creating the least amount of grief for him now.

With all his strength, he punched the hard stone of the archway, succeeding in only hurting his hand. As he tried to shake away the pain and forced himself to breathe, he heard Ashyina calling his name as she approached. But his patience had been tested far too often and he could not bring himself to deal with her at this moment so he turned and ran down the stairs, transforming as he went so that he could easily outpace her. Without hesitation, he ran towards the glade. He ran as fast as he could, ignoring any pain in his lungs, revelling in the pain in his muscles.

Ashyina had come to tell him that the remainder of the Hawks had intended to join Horus that very day. They felt his continued safety proved there was nothing to fear so long as they did not return to Earth. Unfortunately, that was not all she wanted to tell him. She planned to exercise her right as the head of the council to order the making of a new home for the Wolves on another planet.

They had fought about both matters. She had made very clear that there was nothing he could say to change her mind. It would not be long before the Dragons joined them, the other races proving too reserved for their tastes.

With all these murmurings of an exodus, Tryailla was becoming more and more convinced that she must leave him behind. She had begun to reason that if so many Thinkers were returning to the open and appearing to remain oblivious to the threat that things would return to the way they had been with the isolated abductions. The gods would see no reason to increase their pace without an increased threat to themselves.

However, her own betrayal was now apparent regardless, meaning she was a liability upon the planet. He had not failed to notice that she had all but relinquished her role as mother in public, preferring to ensure that it was Ferra seen caring for the small Children.

How could anyone believe she was the real mother? The Children did not even appear like Cats! Yet, it seemed the people had selectively brief memories, as they appeared to play eagerly along with the ruse.

In his heightening anger, he dug his claws in deeper and harder with each stride. It could not all fall apart this way. All because of the selfishness of a race of beings he had never met. All because they felt themselves superior. Despite his quickly lacking breath, he could not help but growl at his thoughts. For the first time, he felt himself agreeing with what Shinga had claimed for years. They should have tried to go home. They should never have taken forms of flesh. It had led to a complete lack of logic and a complete immersion in pain.

As he broke through the dense forest into his sanctuary, he collapsed upon the grass that had been made warm by the sun. Keeping his eyes closed, he concentrated upon the trickling of water over the rocks as he panted heavily, not even having enough energy or care to transform. As his breath began to slow, he found the warmth and calm more soothing than he had intended, lulling him into a deep sleep.

"Kiran!"

He groaned as he tried to bury his face deeper into his bed.

"Kiran!"

He felt his body being shaken. It felt strange. He did not like it. Could the person not see that he was trying to sleep? Could they not tell it was the middle of the night?

"Kiran! Please – pray Lilith forgive us – Kiran wake up!"

Lilith? He thought. Why would anyone be speaking about Lilith?

"Let me help," he heard a much deeper voice say. Then he felt a heavy punch to his shoulder.

"I could have done that," the first voice said angrily.

"But you didn't," Lapidus replied. Lapidus?

He began to open his eyes. His vision was blurry and his entire body was sore and felt weighted down with lead but he began to make out shapes. It was dark. His bed smelled too much of soil. Then he remembered and more questions came flooding to him. He jumped up and looked around frantically.

He had intended to transform, to ask what was going on, and to ask how Lapidus had found the glade. Before he could fully get hold of himself, Tryailla was kneeling before him, holding his large, furry face in her hands. She too had not transformed. Her deep scar contrasted eerily with her pale face in the light of the three moons.

"Kiran, they have found the Hawks and they may have found us here. I must leave you. I must pray that I can lead them away," she explained frantically.

Lapidus interrupted, obviously having more sympathy for Kiran's confusion. "Not long after you left, many of the Hawks decided it was time to leave. The Thinker Hawks began transporting the Children. The angels were waiting for them."

Kiran's eyes grew wide and he forced himself to change. "What did they do?" he asked, exasperated.

Lapidus stared at him. "They were massacred," he said.

"The angels have no use for the Children," Tryailla explained. "They were considered inconsequential."

"So why kill them?" Kiran shouted.

Tryailla took a deep breath and let her hands fall to her side. Only when her muscles began to tense did he realize that she had just picked up her spear and was now clenching her fingers around it. "They are trying to root you and the other Thinkers out."

"I thought they wanted to keep their existence a secret as long as possible?" he asked in another yell.

"They still do," Lapidus interjected.

Kiran was getting more frustrated, "This is not exactly helping them do that."

"What they did is very smart," Tryailla said quietly. "They did not appear as angels when they did it. They transformed themselves to look like Shinga's band."

Kiran began to be suspicious. It was Shinga who cared about the Children, not the angels. "How do you know it wasn't her?"

She nodded to Lapidus who held out his hand to reveal several small stones that looked similar to the tip of Tryailla's spear. "Obviously, some of the Hawks were much better fighters than they had expected," he said. "These only break off the whole when an angel is injured. There is no other explanation. It is them."

Forcing himself to his feet, with great difficulty, Kiran said, "Then we must get back to Turgim and Mierna."

Tryailla stood before him, stopping him with her hands upon his chest. "I cannot return with you."

"Why not?" he asked. "The Children were harmed when they left here, that means they still haven't found us."

"That may be the case," she said nervously before adding, "But we have reason to believe it may not be."

Lapidus added abruptly, "Gryp is gone. When he came back from his flight, we were dealing with the chaos of the news by the few Thinkers who had managed to escape. He seemed pretty shaken by it and said he needed to be alone. He went to the Hall of Spirit and never returned. We went to find him and there was nothing. It is as though he has simply disappeared. We have searched all of Tryailla and there is nothing of him left."

"Maybe he fled out of fear. It doesn't mean they have found us," Kiran reasoned. "If they had, why wouldn't we all have been massacred?"

"We think," Tryailla began, "That they are trying to start a war amongst your kind so that their problem will take care of itself. Our problem is we do not know and we do not have the luxury to wait. You are both likely still safest here for now but, as we cannot guarantee that, I must try to lead them away, to convince them that your people are still a small threat compared to me."

"We are safest together," Kiran insisted.

Tryailla was becoming visibly frustrated with him, another rare event, and she looked torn between walking away and hitting him. "Why do you not understand? Why do you refuse to listen to me? These are my kind and I know they will seek me out. My treachery will have all the gods in a fury that will blind them to your existence in pursuit of me."

"An angel with free will can't be that much of a problem when they have legions," Kiran tried to reason again.

To this statement, something unexpected happened. Lapidus, looking quite shocked, turned to Tryailla. "You haven't told him?"

At this accusation of secrecy, Kiran glared at her, She did not look as sheepish as he felt she damn well should. If anything, she looked defiant.

"There was no need to know. It would have been more dangerous for him to know," she explained calmly and now glared at Lapidus before adding, "And I would have kept it that way if not for you."

"What are you talking about?" Kiran bellowed. He had had enough being played the fool.

Lapidus did not allow Tryailla to protest. "She was THE angel for Lilith," he explained. "Tryailla was the general of Lilith's army. Do you know what that means?" He did not wait for a reply. "It means she is the most powerful of Lilith's angels. Angels gain their status through battle. To be the general means that she could not only defeat any of Lilith's other angels in one on one combat but that she could very likely defeat several of them at one time."

"But for my betrayal," Tryailla added, "It will be the entire legion sent against me if not those of all the other gods as well. I cannot defeat them all." She paused and looked deep into his eyes. "Kiran," she said softly, "Seeking my death will keep them occupied for quite some time. I only need to leave a trail hard enough that I can keep eluding them. If I stay here, they will find me. Not all of the Thinkers' bodies were recovered. That and the spearheads prove that some of your kind were deemed worthy enough to serve the gods. What they know, the gods will know soon enough."

It was too much to deal with. Kiran was numb. He stared at this maimed woman before him and saw how beautiful she was, not simply passed the wounds and the strange features but including them. There was a magnificence he had been honoured to know but he knew it would be the last time.

Ignoring Lapidus, he took the winged Tryailla in his arms and kissed her as deeply and as passionately as he could. It was beautiful and satisfying and yet he felt no arousal. This kiss was deeper than that and from her equal return of it, he knew she felt the same way. Even as the kiss came to a conclusion and she began to pull away, he kept his eyes tightly shut. He was trying to etch the feelings of it into his mind to keep him company for the rest of his days. Her voice brought him back to the moment at hand and his eyes flew open to look into hers, which were misty.

"My Love," she whispered, "When we meet again, I hope it is not at the end of my spear."

As hard as it was for her to say, it was for him to hear. He knew what she meant. There had never been an angel with free will. She had talked of execution but they both knew to be let off so easily was no guarantee.

"When we meet next," he choked, "Your god will be at the end of mine."

With a weak smile, she vanished.

It was another several moments before Kiran was brought back to himself. Lapidus let a heavy hand drop onto his shoulder.

"I know what you are going through, Kiran," he said. "Back on Earth, when they had targeted me, I was tested by the woman I loved. She died in my arms by my hand." His voice was dark and haunted.

"We will find a way to destroy these gods," Kiran said through gritted teeth. "We will show them what Thinkers are capable of."

Lapidus squeezed his shoulder in agreement.

* * *

Ashyina paced the lines of wounded who had managed to survive the attack. Many of them were so hurt that they had no hope of healing themselves. They were being tended by everyone who could spare a hand but she was too focused on what the attack meant to be of much help to anyone. It had only taken the tortured yelp of one person before she had been none too kindly dismissed. Now, she walked as she tried to figure out how Shinga had found the Hawks without finding the rest of them.

As crazy as everyone had thought she was, she had been right and their current safety hinged on the hope that Gryp's disappearance was coincidental. Yet, how were they currently safe?

She fumbled for the small square of fabric. It was beginning to look ragged and stained, as she had kept it religiously tucked inside her clothing, pressed next to her skin. How could this help any of them?

It had a similar vibration to the palace itself and for some reason, Shinga had not attacked them there. Why? Could it be that she was truly that afraid of facing all the remaining Thinkers at one time? Looking over at the maimed, many of those who managed to escape would still not survive the night, she doubted that could be the explanation.

Thinking about the strange weapons described, Ashyina was only further convinced that Shinga had little reason to fear any of them. Her abilities had obviously progressed beyond anything Ashyina's own thought had conceived. The only remaining explanations were that – no matter how deranged she had become – Shinga had developed a terrifying patience and was now using it to toy with them or that Kiran's special barriers somehow were beyond Shinga's ability to penetrate.

She clenched her fingers into a fist around the fabric and clenched her jaw with all the might of her stress. Her panic was interrupted by Lapidus.

"How are they faring?" he asked as he walked up to her and indicated the wounded. Kiran was following closely behind and surveying the bodies with the same expression she knew she had just had.

Walking close to the pair, she lowered her voice so that no one else could hear. "It appears that we will be lucky if any of them survive the week."

"Is what Lapidus told me true?" Kiran asked.

She eyed him quizzically. What had Lapidus told him about the attack?

Lapidus noticed her confusion and explained, "That they are dying like Children."

She nodded, tight lipped, before adding, "Not one has passed in the way of a Thinker. It is as if they were never anything more than Children. Their thought dissipates the moment they give their last breath."

Kiran said nothing and seemed to be concerned with his own thoughts.

This angered her. This was not the time to be quiet with her. "We have to do something, Kiran," she said. "This will only continue. All those who have returned have said it was Shinga, Barjl, and the other Children who had joined her. What more proof do you need that we should have dealt with her before?"

Her words appeared to catch him by surprise and he gave a start before replying, "Don't you think that would be a little rash?"

"To give them more time to hunt the rest of us down and annihilate our entire race?" she shrieked. Several of the wounded nearby gave pained groans at her outburst but she tried to brush it aside. Much more calmly, she added, "Kiran, we need to stop her before she can kill any more people."

Lapidus and Kiran exchanged worried looks before Kiran was about to speak, but it was Lapidus who answered her. "It will only end more quickly in her favour if we seek her out now. Ashyina, use your thought. This shows she is beyond us as we are now. We cannot defeat her. We have no choice but to continue to hide."

"Because hiding has worked so well for us up to this point," she scoffed. How could these two possibly argue for continuing to do nothing? The devastating evidence was at their feet.

Lapidus took a deep breath before replying. "Yes, you are right. We have been sitting around, ignoring any development in our abilities and that has been very foolish. Our confidence in our defences has eroded our sense. However, we cannot leave now in search of her because we are only that much further behind in our skills. We must remain hidden for now but not in the same idle way as before. We must develop our skills further."

Kiran was staring at the bodies, once again in his own thoughts. Perhaps she was being too hard on him; he appeared to be taking this much worse than even she. Then her anger rose again as she recalled how this all could have been dealt with before if only the others had listened to her. The leader within her began to stir and she found her anger tempered by the needs of the people. These thoughts, however, brought her immediately back to her own needs.

"Kiran," she said more quietly than she had intended and was forced to clear her throat before beginning again. "Kiran," she repeated more loudly this time, "I am the leader of the council. I know this has changed somewhat in the last years but we cannot afford to have an ambiguous leadership anymore. We have differed on how to handle this situation and I feel this event is proof that I must stick to my original feelings. Lapidus is right; we do need to work harder at regaining our abilities. We must do this to survive. Unfortunately, to do this, I must leave Tryailla."

His eyes widened. "What are you talking about?" he asked before gesturing to the carnage surrounding them as he added, "Is this not evidence enough that we are safe only here? Gryp may have left of his own accord. We cannot find him, true, but nor do we have any evidence that he will not return or that his disappearance indicates we can be found."

She shook her head. "This has nothing to do with how safe or unsafe it is to remain on Tryailla. In fact, I completely agree that the other Wolves should remain here, where there are the most people to fight back. This has everything to do with the energy on this planet. I cannot breathe here in the way I need. I cannot reach down and feel my soul here like I could before. And the damn weather is becoming too much. I had never realized until we came here how much I need those northern winters."

"It would be suicide to return to Earth," Kiran said in exasperation.

Nodding in agreement, she replied, "Which is why I am not going to return to Earth. I am going to find my own home, one where the Wolves can feel comfortable. In time, any who wish to join me may do so."

"This is lunacy. Have you not seen what just happened to the entire race of Hawks?" he shouted. "Look before you, Ashyina. These people just attempted the very thing you are proposing and they are all dead or dying. You truly have lost your mind. Your thought has gone entirely. This makes no sense."

Though there was logic to Kiran's words, he was becoming more frantic as he said them and Ashyina could not help but feel more at ease somehow. Yes, leaving was exactly what she needed to do. It was as risky as Kiran claimed and yet, there was something about it that she knew was her only hope. She would die the moment she left or she would survive long enough to gain the power necessary to overcome her nemesis. There was no compromise.

"I must do this," was all she could offer to Kiran. He would not understand the feeling that gripped at her chest and pulled as it did.

Lapidus placed a hand on her shoulder. Looking into his eyes, she could tell he was torn. He agreed with Kiran, that much she knew without asking. Before she had even spoken, she knew what side he would want to take in the matter regardless of their relationship... or perhaps, not regardless.

"I will go with you," he said barely above a whisper. She smiled at him but Kiran sputtered.

"How can you?" he effused. "You of all people, Lapidus? You know of the dangers perhaps better than anyone."

Lapidus nodded in reply. "I must do this, brother. I cannot let her go alone or at most with a few inexperienced Thinkers and Children. Just as there is no one else who knows the dangers as well as I, there is also no one else who can protect her."

Looking deeply into Lapidus' eyes, Kiran said, "They will come for you first. You know that don't you?"

Lapidus nodded firmly showing his conviction had not wavered. "I expect it but I will give them a fight they have never seen." His voice remained low yet boomed with his confidence and fury.

Ashyina felt strangely excluded, as though she were no longer actually present and only a distant observer as these two men exchanged meaningful looks. Kiran stepped forward and pulled Lapidus into a hard hug.

"Show them what a real Thinker can do," he said boldly.

As they stepped apart, Lapidus nodded in agreement.

"When are you leaving?" Kiran said to Ashyina conversationally as he attempted to regain his composure.

"This very moment," she said. "I cannot wait any longer. I will leave now and, if I live, will return when I am ready to retrieve any of the Wolves who wish to join me. There is a planet not far from here that I remember singing to me. I think you may remember it. It was covered in ice when we last saw it and it is prone to very long cycles of winter."

Her words appeared to sadden Kiran, though he did not act surprised. Swallowing hard, he nodded and replied, "I do remember. I hope to see you again." Turning to Lapidus, he added, "Good luck, friend."

Lapidus nodded and linked his fingers with hers. With one last nod to Kiran, they vanished.

## Chapter 18

Gryp's heart pounded in his head. As much as he tried to push his fear aside, he could not help it. This was the first time he had returned to Earth since Shinga's insanity had taken hold those five years before and he had no way of knowing how easily Shinga could find him if at all. Despite the fact that he was now seeking her out, he had no intention of being ambushed before he could plead his case.

The attack by the winged beings ̶ he knew without a doubt it had been them and not Shinga at all ̶ had confirmed for him that he had less and less time to accomplish his vague task before they returned. When they did, he was sure he would not be spared unless he had somehow managed to accomplish it. Seeking Shinga had become unavoidable.

Lurking in the bushes of the old Wolf territory, he had searched for some sign of Shinga and Barjl's new band. He found none. In fact, the Wolf caves appeared to have been left exactly as they had been, save for an influx of dirt and the odd animal that had discovered the wealth of shelter provided by the elaborate cave network.

Avorlig's old home had no remnants left. He had considered going to the Monkeys to see if they had had any encounters with Shinga but he worried that their knowing he had returned could complicate matters, especially if Shinga found out he had gone to them before seeking her. It would not help bolster the plea he had planned to give her in hopes she would spare his life.

After days of journeying throughout the northern forests and mountains, even travelling so far as the ice sheets, he had begun to wonder if Shinga and Barjl had truly changed so much that they would move from the north. It seemed unlikely given how much the Wolves loved the colder climates but as his options were quickly dissipating, he was trying to find new ones that did not involve his quick demise brought about by strangely powerful beings.

With each location he searched, his heart raced. He had assumed that such a scenario would eventually become mundane and routine. To his surprise, he remained on tenterhooks every moment, as the fear of ultimate death did not want to fade.

Slowly, he pushed a branch out of his way as he tried to move quietly through the forest. He had discovered this one far to the west of the Wolves' old home. Unexpectedly, the branch slipped through his fingers and slapped him hard in the face. As his eyes watered from the sting, he grumbled to himself. He had had just about enough lurking in forests. Pushing the branch aside and blinking to clear his eyes, he tried to focus on the tree a few paces in front of him.

It curved quite strangely for a tree and had dark blue bark. Only when a spear tip was placed delicately, yet firmly, under his chin did he curse himself. It was no tree. His eyes cleared and he saw the person standing before him was not the one holding the spear but this person caused him shock nonetheless.

Barjl grinned evilly down at him. "You might want to try being quiet when trespassing through enemy territory," he said. "Of course, a smart man would avoid it altogether." Barjl gave a jerk of the head towards the person holding the spear. "Bring him, Arken. Shinga will want to see what we have found on our hunt today."

Gryp was pulled roughly to his feet. "I-I..." he tried to explain his presence but was silenced by Barjl.

"I care nothing for your excuses, Gryp. You can face Shinga. Let her decide what to do with you."

The journey to Shinga took quite some time. In fact, by the time Arken had led him ̶ far from carefully ̶ through the forest and across several small streams the sun was low in the sky and the spring chill lent crispness to the air. Barjl, who had maintained quite a distance in front of them the entire time, disappeared into an earthy mound and Gryp now realized they had arrived.

Roughly, Arken pushed him through the short door, for which he was forced to stoop to avoid hitting his head, before using his weight to ensure Gryp would fall seated onto the earthen floor. Gryp slowly massaged his shoulder where Arken had spent the afternoon pulling and tugging at him. It did little to relieve the ache and for this, he glared back at the young man who seemed unmoved. In fact, Arken as well as most of the inhabitants near him ignored him entirely, deliberately averting their gaze.

Taking the moment of peace as an opportunity, he looked around. The late day sun cast eerily and dense shadows through the small openings in the structure. If he had seen the construction before he had lived on Tryailla, he might have been impressed by some of the ideas they had utilized, such as the windows with earthen flaps and the hole in the roof for the fire. As it was, this structure now seemed entirely primitive.

Continuing to examine his surroundings, he tried to see into the far back of the structure but the shadows were so dense, he could not tell if the size of the interior was endless or quite small. His curiosity was unfortunately satisfied as he heard a voice from the darkness.

"Barjl, you have been gone a long time," he heard the silken female voice say. "I had begun to think you had caught us a herd of stags but now I see you were simply weighted down by vermin."

He knew who spoke and he knew she watched him from her place within the shadows. Part of him wanted her to show herself so that the entire scene was much less intimidating but the other part of him knew it would ultimately make no difference.

What had terrified him most was that he had not once felt the presence of a person in that darkness. It was only then that his heart dropped to a location somewhere between his knees and his ankles. Perhaps it was oscillating between the two, for they both felt strangely weak even though he was sitting.

The realization that he had not sensed Shinga made him re-evaluate his surroundings. He had not sensed any of the others either. Actively, he tried to probe into their minds and found nothing but walls. Shinga's band had indeed progressed far beyond what he had imagined.

This new information spoke now of the need to determine how much of his mind remained open. A dart of fear shot through him again as he realized his entire plan would fail if Shinga could read him as clearly as he had once been able to read her. Concentrating as hard as he could, he tried to focus on the present details in the room and not allow the thoughts of winged beings to enter his mind.

"We couldn't transform to get home," Barjl growled back. He was not angry. His voice sounded as though it had simply reverted for that short moment. His reply had unintentionally helped Gryp in his task of focusing upon the present.

Gryp's skin crawled as he heard Shinga give a quiet chuckle. He did not understand what was funny and looked around to see if any of the others had found humour in the situation but they were all still refusing to look at him.

"You are a temptation," Shinga said slyly as she emerged from the shadows now, stopping right before him so that she was able to tower above him while she examined his face. "They want to rip your flesh apart as they did with Avorlig but I have made them promise not to touch any of the council members. They ignore you in hopes that they can control the desire."

Unintentionally, he looked around at the others and, upon this third inspection, noticed many were clutching their hands in tight fists, or clenching their jaws. A dark-haired and dark-eyed young man seemed to be going out his way to control his breathing.

"You were a party to the destruction of our people after all," Shinga said casually. "You would have to remember that now, wouldn't you? How you and the other council members joined against me and how many people were harmed as a result?"

Gryp refused to rise to the bait. Telepathy was not needed to realize she was trying to goad him into doing something very stupid. Instead, he blinked back at her indifferently to which her jaw tensed.

A draft blew through the room. Appearing to notice it, Shinga turned and walked to one of the openings in the western wall. He expected her to close it but instead she leaned against the side and looked out at the setting sun. She was holding in each hand a small object that she played with absentmindedly.

"Part of me wants to give them what they want," Shinga explained resignedly. "I want to see you suffer just like Avorlig. I want to see the terror I felt in your eyes. I want revenge."

She paused and looked down at the objects. From his vantage point, they were obscured but he thought he caught of glimpse of something blood red. His heart skipped several beats and only restarted when he reminded himself to breathe.

Turning, she looked into his eyes. This simple action had had far more of an impact upon him than any of the factors of this current meeting. He wanted to cower before her, beg her forgiveness, and, strangely, he also wanted to worship her and proclaim his loyalty and love. However, there was still some sense in him, and he was sure this must be a side effect of her strongly developed abilities. This thought alone was what he drew upon to remain proudly upright and silent. His inner struggle was apparently invisible as Shinga did not notice or, at the very least, did not appear to care.

She spoke again, "I have found myself contemplating much beyond the past lately. I was so consumed with thoughts of revenge, of teaching you all the truth."

She looked down at the small objects and Gryp now saw that they were two triangular stones that were a vibrant blood red. It was obvious from their shape that they were not organs but the colour of them was so unmistakeable that he had to fight consciously the thought of seeing them pulsate like tiny, deformed hearts.

She continued, "It seems quite silly now. Since our show of power, you had left us well alone and I had even become content to believe it all remained in the past," her eyes darkened, "Until today."

She paused once more to consider him. "But you are alone," she commented. "This makes me wonder. Have you fallen into disfavour with Ashyina and she has sent you hoping that I will execute you? Have you been sent to execute me? I find that hard to believe, as I am sure Ashyina would want to do it herself. Of course, if she is afraid of me..." Trailing off, she seemed to consider many more options silently.

Gryp took the opportunity. "I have learned the truth and come to join you!" he blurted, hoping to get the words out before any of the others present could forcibly silence him.

Shinga's eyes narrowed, "What truth?"

She was testing him and luckily for him, he knew the answer. "That Avorlig and Ashyina plotted against you. That you told what you thought was the truth the whole time but you didn't know or suspect how bad it really was until the council meeting. I know it all. I know how much Ashyina has lied to everyone and how deranged she has become. She is obsessed with destroying you. Even now, it is only fear that holds her back."

Whatever Shinga had expected Gryp to say, it had not been this. She collapsed into a cross-legged position on the floor in front of him and blinked several times as if what he had said convinced her she was dreaming and nothing more. He did not let this further silence go to waste.

"She has gone even further to destroy you than you know," he explained, knowing now that she would not interrupt him. "Ever since that day you killed those Children, Avorlig, and Ventha..."

"I have done nothing to Ventha!" she shrieked.

Gryp forced himself not to smile at his own cunning. Obviously, he need not worry about Shinga reading his mind or she would have known the truth. His mention of Ventha had been deliberate to test the situation and also to use as a tool to gain her trust. Now, he feigned confused thought before pretending to say to himself but speaking loud enough so that he knew all would hear, "I wonder if she had begun her task that far back."

"What task?" Shinga asked, her face taut.

There was a flicker of movement to Gryp's right and he looked to see Barjl fingering a blade. Obviously, Barjl had yet to see his usefulness, so Gryp answered quickly.

"Ventha went missing that same day. I could not find her anywhere," he explained. "Ashyina claims that you must have killed her too and were most likely going to hunt down the entire council. That is why we fled. She must have done it herself to blame you."

"Why would she need to do that?" Barjl growled. "We had already killed Avorlig. There would have been no need to frame us for anyone else's death."

Gryp was irritated by Barjl's interruption but he turned and answered him as though he felt it a valid question. He did not want to alienate Shinga by alienating her band.

"Likely to prove that Shinga was a threat to those she had not originally accused," he offered. "The council has wanted to leave Shinga alone. They have been content to live elsewhere. Ashyina has had a differing opinion. She has been trying to convince everyone that we must learn to outstrip your abilities so that we can destroy you all and be truly safe. She used Ventha as an example of how much everyone was threatened equally. Despite Ventha's disappearance, this idea had not had much effect upon the others. They had begun to think she had lost her thought to be honest. Even Lapidus was becoming worried."

A small smirk appeared on Shinga's face but she jutted her chin out, bidding him to continue.

"But she must have still had her followers," he reasoned. "There is no way she could have accomplished what she did without them."

Shinga's face darkened and Barjl growled, "Do not speak in riddles, Dragon."

"I mean no disrespect," Gryp replied. "It is still quite a shock for me that it has all happened. Many of the people were not comfortable in our new home. The energies there were very welcoming for some but not to others. The Hawks decided to make their home elsewhere. They left for another planet and that is when it all went wrong. The entire group was massacred, even Thinkers were utterly destroyed, their thought ended."

For the first time since he had arrived, the quiet of the room was gone. All assembled muttered and whispered to each other and Shinga appeared to be searching desperately in her mind for an explanation.

"How can this be?" was the best she could devise.

"We do not know either. None of us had seen such a thing before," he explained. "They had strange weapons." He paused, eyed the stones in her hand, and realized, with a jolt what he was looking at. His shock must have been apparent, for Shinga eyed him suspiciously.

"What do you mean by 'strange weapons'?" she asked coolly.

With a shaking finger, which he deliberately embellished, he pointed at her stones. "They had pieces fall off them that looked like those." He acted afraid again, wanting Shinga to believe he had second guessed coming. He was trying to seem as sincere and as ignorant of these weapons as possible.

Everyone in the room fell silent once more. Shinga examined the two stones more closely, obviously unsure of what it all meant.

"Ashyina is claiming I did it," Shinga said firmly but quietly.

"I told you those were some weapon sent by her," Barjl exclaimed. "I told you not to trust them."

"They are not from Ashyina!" Shinga blurted but her cheeks reddened after she had said it.

Gryp looked at them both. What had happened in his absence? He wondered. Determining to figure it out later, he said simply, "The weapons are not why you were blamed."

Shinga shot a glare at him. "What?" she growled, sounding almost like Barjl.

"Those who survived long enough to return from the new planet said the band looked like you, Barjl, and the missing Children," he explained. "Obviously, Ashyina had her followers mimic your forms. It was the only way she could convince everyone that you are still a threat."

"I told you we could not let it go," Barjl vented. "I told you Ashyina would remain a problem."

Shinga nodded slowly. "It appears Ashyina is determined to bring this to an irreversible end." Turning her face up to Gryp's, she asked, "You know the truth. Why are none of the others with you?"

He scoffed. "Look what she did to you and any who joined you in opposing her. I had no proof to win others to my side and I was not stupid enough to defy her openly. I had hoped her deranged behaviour would prove harmless without you present but she apparently has no limits in what she is willing to do. She killed Thinkers indiscriminately. I fled for my own safety."

Barjl's laughter boomed in his ears. "Now this is the Gryp that I know," he replied. "Never worried about more than his own skin." Clapping Gryp on the back much more firmly than Gryp would have liked, Barjl added, "I thought you were going to feed us lies to gain something but your own self-preservation is far too like you to be a lie."

While Gryp was somewhat pleased that he had unintentionally managed to win over Barjl, he was also irritated by the insult, no matter how true he knew it to be.

"What shall we do about this information?" Barjl asked Shinga, and there was liveliness in his voice that Gryp had not before heard.

Shinga considered for several moments and when she spoke, Gryp almost missed the first words because she spoke so quietly and did not look up. "It appears we are fortunate enough to have some warning at least," she said. "We must prepare. If Ashyina has learned of a way to destroy a Thinker entirely, we must learn how to overcome it. And, possibly, how to do the same."

She looked at Gryp once more. "Can I count on you to join us in this fight?" she asked.

He nodded slowly. "I came to join you and that is what I intend to do."

* * *

To Lapidus' surprise, his first steps away from Tryailla since its founding were not met with immediate assassination or abduction. The only thing they had been met with was a blistering cold wind that pierced each nostril and cut to his bones. Though he was not one for complaining, he could not help but voice his tortured cry in the form of question to Ashyina.

"Why did you choose this place?" he asked as he considered whether he should sacrifice communication in favour of the heavy fur of his reverted form.

Strangely, Ashyina seemed quite pleased with the conditions and laughed at him good-naturedly. "Follow me," she said as she thankfully took Wolf form.

They had been on the top of a large glacier and Ashyina was now wasting no time racing down, her speed aided by the steep ice. Lapidus struggled to maintain control and was forced to dig his claws in so hard it agonized him. It was the only way to prevent a much more dangerous descent.

Finally, when he was near the bottom of the mountain, he saw Ashyina disappear into the rock face. As he approached where she had disappeared, he saw that the rock curved, creating a protective wall around a small opening. He wasted no time squeezing through the entrance and found himself inside a large cave. Ashyina had already transformed and was sitting upon the rock floor waiting for him to do the same.

"I am so glad this is still here," she said surprisingly cheerfully. "The last time I was here was not long after we first learned how to teleport and I was worried the ice would have shifted and covered the entrance."

Lapidus transformed once more. He was unimpressed. "You brought us to an ice covered planet with no provisions, on a whim, and you didn't even know if we would have shelter?" He asked.

She shrugged, unconcerned by the issues he had raised. "We could have easily returned to Tryailla if I had been wrong."

"Why are we here then?" he asked seriously. "You said you wanted to learn how to overcome Shinga and you needed to be here to do it. Why?"

She placed her palms flat upon the ground on either side of her and closed her eyes, breathing deeply. "Can you not feel it? Can you not feel the vibrations of this place?"

Following her lead, he tried to discern what she had obviously found and felt only a constant, quiet hum. "It feels little different from Earth or even Tryailla," he said conversationally.

Letting out a sigh, she opened her eyes and looked at him. "It sings to me," she said with a quiet passion.

"We still should have brought some food," he grumbled.

He had been so worried about her leaving Tryailla alone, possibly to be abducted by the angels, that he had momentarily lost his own thought. His anger, though unintentionally being directed at Ashyina, was more with himself.

Apparently, Ashyina had little patience for whining. She stood and became serious. "We came to this place to train, to learn how to maximize our abilities. We could easily go elsewhere to get food if you would like but we must take this task seriously. I brought us here to found a new home for the Wolves and if we are any kind of Thinkers at all, we must learn how to use what we have here. Until then, and maybe not even then, we cannot hope to overcome Shinga's new skills."

"Building a new home is not going to make us victorious," he replied. "If that were so, Tryailla would have been a success, not a failure. We did exactly what you are now proposing and look at what has happened? Only now, you are suggesting we do it alone and without the help of our entire people. Do you honestly think this will work?"

Her eyes grew dark and a chill unrelated to their lodgings went down Lapidus' spine. "Do you honestly think this war will be won by the Children?" she boomed. "Do you honestly think that our numbers hold any bearing on overcoming her? This is about skill. This is about regaining what we once were able to achieve so that she cannot be a threat to us again. A thousand Thinkers with meagre skill will mean nothing but more blood. One Thinker with all her abilities will mean victory. I am trying to ensure that Thinker is not Shinga."

Lapidus was exasperated. Was she honestly trying to make petty revenge seem so noble? One Thinker, even with their abilities, would be no match for a legion.

"Ashyina," he said as calmly as he could manage, "Do you hear what you are saying? You have turned this into a private battle between you and Shinga. This isn't about the two of you anymore. As soon as others were harmed, this became about all Thinkers and while we are hidden here to train, as you call it, the others are still in just as much danger."

She appeared wounded by his words and came to kneel next to him as she spoke much more softly this time. "Of course I know that," she whispered. "I know this is about all of us but I feel responsible. It is I who Shinga has made her ultimate target and I feel that it should be me who remedies the situation."

Looking searchingly into her eyes, he asked, "And how do you expect to do that? She is far beyond what we can do and I doubt she has slowed her progress."

Smiling weakly, Ashyina appeared to be trapped in her own thoughts momentarily before coming back to herself and patting him on the shoulder. "I have determined that my first goal must be how to find her without her finding me. I am sure she has moved on from our old home but I cannot safely seek her out without being at extreme risk."

"And?" he asked expectantly.

She glared at him. "And I have come up with an idea," she said. Looking around herself, she searched for something.

"What are you doing?" he asked her as he tried following her eyes.

Grabbing a rounded pebble half the size of her palm, she held it out in front of her so that they could both see it. She stared at it intently. This behaviour made Lapidus even more at a loss and he began to consider if maybe the attack upon Fa'ah had had a much more profound effect upon her than he had first realized.

Peering into her face, he said simply, "It's a rock."

"I know it's a rock," she said impatiently. "Be quiet for a moment and let me concentrate."

Doing as instructed, he leaned back, only now realizing he had been leaning forward in anticipation. After several moments, all that resulted was a sudden grunt of frustration by Ashyina.

Without lowering the rock, she looked up at him again, appearing disappointed. "It will take much more work than I had hoped," she began. "It occurred to me not long ago that since our methods of moulding the physical world and of teleporting all come down to identifying and altering vibrations, that it should be possible to align the vibrations of one person or thing with those of another."

"What good will that do?" Lapidus asked, feeling strangely stupid though he truly did not see the practical application.

She looked at him with a little too much understanding and he scowled back at her.

"If I change my vibrations to match this rock," she explained, "Do I not become the rock? Do I not cease to appear to be Ashyina? And would that not mean that I could hide well? Taking on the cloak of the environment around me?"

He considered for many moments. Despite all their work, they had never attempted what she was suggesting, yet he could think of no reason why this should not work aside from the failed attempt that had just happened before his eyes. However, such a failure was far from a resounding argument against the idea. He thought of what this kind of skill might mean with the true threats that still far outweighed any problem Shinga could cause them.

This thought made him consider the angels again. Why could he not tell Ashyina the truth? Though he was not sure it had been noticeable, he had felt his shoulders fall. He thought about his own experience and what Tryailla and Kiran had told him about the gods posing an imminent threat to those who knew the truth.

At this moment, hidden in this cave, half expecting to be bombarded at any moment, he wondered if that really mattered. Then, he considered that he had not yet been bombarded though he was now away from Tryailla. Perhaps there had been more truth to it than he had realized. Perhaps they were watching him and waiting until Ashyina would not be alerted to what was happening? Whatever the reason, deep down he could not bring himself to tell her he had been lying to her for years. He watched as she concentrated on the stone once more, long ago taking his silence for agreement or, at the very least, a lack of interference.

Slapping his hands emphatically upon his knees, he stood, saying, "I am going to look for food and wood."

She nodded vaguely and waved him away without looking at him. For some reason, he found her determination endearing and smiled to himself as he left the cave, hoping that doing so was not guaranteeing his death.

## Chapter 19

Despite a beautifully sunny morning, the air was punctuated by the chill of a breeze as it blew through the hills and down from the source of the stream. Though it made Gryp shiver slightly, he revelled in the sensation as he sat watching several of Shinga's band work far below him along the stream. Some of them were doing as he was, taking a well-deserved rest after trying to harpoon enough fish to replenish their stores.

To his surprise, Shinga and her ilk had not continued their work of developing their abilities further after the others fled to Tryailla. In fact, they had somewhat reverted to a more primitive life given the circumstances. At the same time, they had learned some very useful tasks that involved very little thought at all.

They would spend entire days taking in large hauls of fish from the stream and dry the flesh using fire and sun in such a way that it would remain preserved and edible for weeks at a time. Arken, who had been one of the few of Shinga's band not to shun him, had explained that it was especially useful to perform this task before the winter to help survival in leaner times.

Despite how early it was in the season, they were now performing the task as a means of practice. Uri was able to call the fish out of the water as if she moved all matter independently of the normal physical laws. She had started to explain the technique to Worga. Fenda was able to concentrate upon the fish to render them inert, making them easy prey for Arken's harpoon, which he guided perfectly without touch. Shinga had insisted they used this activity to renew their efforts in developing their skills. They were going to war; a war that she hoped would bring Ashyina's nightmares to reality.

Though Gryp had explain that Ashyina was on Tryailla, and though he had also explained where that was, Shinga was not convinced capturing her nemesis would be so easy. She reasoned that if Ashyina managed to flee, they would likely have to spend much time seeking her out again. As the conditions they would meet in such travels– especially given Ashyina's ability to destroy Thinkers– would no doubt be unpredictable, she wanted her band as prepared as possible.

As Gryp sat in the sunshine, enjoying the breeze tickling his skin, his body began to relax. At first, he wondered if this should worry him, but then he decided not to care for once in his life. Becoming acutely aware of his own breath, he listened to the air as it rushed in and out of his respiratory system. He could have fallen asleep – and part of him very much wanted to – but, despite the calm and the pleasantly drowsy sensation he now had, there emerged another feeling. It was a compulsion.

It began to grow within his body and gripped at his chest. He did not feel stressed but rather that a sense of determined purpose had been added to his calm. Without speaking or talking to the others, he stood. Without knowing why, he turned to face the dark wood behind him. With physical deliberateness and emotional indifference, he walked beneath the dense forest canopy, continuing to make his way through the vegetation without hesitation. The further he walked, the thicker the foliage became. He often had to divert from his intended course simply to circumnavigate groups of trees and bushes that grew close together.

He was so far into the wood that almost all of the daylight was blocked by the crowded canopy. His surroundings appeared as though it was night, causing an unbidden thought began to question the compulsion. What else had he met in such forests? What else had lured him and spoke to him in such seclusion? The thought struck terror through his body and he no longer walked with calm compliance. However, he could not stop, for he was not in control of his own legs.

If he did run, if he somehow could regain his own control, would it even matter? Would he be punished more severely for defying the winged beings? As his brain remained frozen in indecision, his body carried him onward to the inevitable. He broke into a clearing, which – despite the less dense growth – was still firmly shielded from the light of the sun. At the other end, sitting serenely, was the winged wolf. Gryp's feet stopped of their own volition as he and the wolf looked at each other for many moments.

"We had thought you had betrayed us," the wolf said with a nearly imperceptible growl.

"You had not come to me and I had no way of knowing how to contact you," Gryp replied defensively.

The wolf's eyes narrowed. "You had no trouble hiding yourself from us for several years. Most of your people have disappeared from our sight," he paused, before adding, "Until recently."

"What has happened to them?" Gryp blurted.

"A fate you are unlikely to share... now," the wolf answered with another growl.

Gryp said nothing. His mind was desperately trying to analyze the situation. He had not seen the wolf since before Tryailla. Now that he was back upon Earth, the wolf had only taken a few weeks to seek him out and now claimed he had been hidden. His heart sank with terror.

Not truly knowing the situation, he had feared he was in equal danger upon Tryailla. He had always assumed they would come for him eventually, no matter where he was. However, the protections of Tryailla had apparently managed to work even against the winged beings. His folly became clear and as he faced one of them again, he dared not move or speak.

"Where were you?" the wolf growled. "Tell me all that has happened."

"I had been trying to learn what you wanted from Ashyina," he replied, trying to be as vague as possible without being obvious. "She had nothing of value to offer so I have sought out Shinga hoping she would prove to be more helpful."

The wolf examined Gryp for many moments. "And what have you learned?" He asked finally.

Gryp's heart sank again. He would not be able to take much more of this as it would soon be in his ankles. "Nothing," he said sheepishly.

The Wolf gave such a forceful growl that it was almost a bark. "What use are you to us then?" the wolf shouted. "You avoid my questions. You say you have learned nothing. Why should we keep you alive?"

The threat forced Gryp to give an involuntary swallow to get his voice around a newly formed lump. "All I have learned is what you already know. Ashyina lied and Shinga told the truth. She is now intent upon Ashyina's destruction. It is all she thinks about... well, that and playing with those damn rocks."

"What rocks?" the wolf snarled.

To Gryp's surprise, the Wolf stood and began to pace the clearing. He never looked away from Gryp's face as he awaited the answer.

"Just a couple of stones," Gryp replied.

"How big are they? What do they look like?" the wolf's voice had a slight twinge of panic.

Though this reaction had been unexpected, Gryp could not help but feel relieved that he would not be so useless after all. Perhaps he would even be allowed to keep his thought. "They are triangular and the colour of blood."

"How many does she have?" the wolf barked again.

"Two."

The wolf sat abruptly and looked around as if he thought the explanation lay amongst the leaves covering the forest floor. For several minutes, Gryp chose to say nothing, waiting for the wolf to address him. The wolf began to pace again and did not look at him. Gryp's anticipation could be held off no longer.

"What are the stones?" he asked.

As he expected, the wolf was not cooperative. "Nothing for a Thinker to know about. Your kind must learn how to cease trespassing. You trespass upon our world, upon our business. When do you stop? Your deaths do not come quickly enough and even those lack any satisfaction for us."

Gryp did not know how to respond to this strange ranting. For lack of a better idea and due to a slight desperation to appease the creature, he offered, "Shall I bring Shinga and her band to you?"

"No." the Wolf said sternly. "Definitely not." He paused to think for several more seconds before coming to some conclusion. "Before you can proceed in any other tasks for us, you must retrieve those stones."

"That will be difficult," Gryp said. "She rarely lets them out of her own grasp and never out of her sight."

The wolf charged him, stopping only when their noses were nearly touching. His breath was hot and unpleasant. "I do not care about your problems," he snapped. "I do not care what you think is an obstacle. I care about those stones. It is too dangerous for her to have them. Call to me when you have them and it must be soon. If not, I will find you and you will not enjoy that meeting nearly as much as this."

Swallowing hard again, Gryp forced his voice to remain steady as he asked, "How do I call you?"

Thankfully, this question visibly relaxed the wolf. "Vanagandr. Say it and I will hear it," he said finally.

"Vanagandr?" Gryp repeated. "What is that?"

The wolf looked impatient. "It is what you asked. Call it and I will come," he said.

Lifting his snout gracefully into the wind, Vanagandr sniffed for several seconds before lowering his head to look at Gryp once more. "You should hurry back to your new band. They will be wondering what has happened to you and you have little time to complete our task," he said.

Gryp nodded nervously and with this agreement, the wolf disappeared. The sounds of birds and scurrying creatures returned abruptly to normal.

* * *

Kiran heard the approaching soft foot falls upon the smooth stone floor of his chambers. He chose to ignore them as long as he was able. The night was cool and clear and he had taken advantage of the crisp air to help clear his emotions. His strong hands braced against the stone railing of the main balcony as he looked without focus upon the terrain below.

When the valleys failed to solve his problems, he shifted his gaze up to the distant stars. It had been one of the first clear nights since Tryailla had left them. Though she had never mentioned it, he was now convinced the consistently pristine weather had been somehow her doing. The knot in his chest that he had worked so hard to loosen tightened to its former wrenching as he thought of her and how much he had yet to learn of the woman who was now gone from him, possibly forever.

During his prolonged loneliness, he had formed some of the whitest stone in the palace to her shape and placed it in the centre of the pool within his chamber. The voluptuous form he had worshipped stood with the palm of her hands pressed delicately together above her head. The statue showed her strength in the details he had given the arms. Unfortunately, this replacement of cold stone had done little to comfort him as he had hoped. Rather than a reminder of her brief presence in his life, it stood as a crushing admonition of reality. He often stood with his back to it as he did now.

His chest tightened further still as he thought of the threats his own race unknowingly faced and wrestled within himself for yet another countless time of whether he should risk everything to tell the others the truth. They had been patient with him for this long and he had shared nothing. It felt a supreme betrayal to continue but it was his ever-present fear and – even more – Tryailla's conviction that their ignorance was safer than knowledge that kept him silent.

Though most of the Hawk Thinkers had managed to return from Fa'ah alive during the massacre, few lived through the night and fewer still had survived the following days. Igella had been unharmed for the simple fact that she had planned to join them several days later. Unfortunately, the turn of events had pushed her into such a deep level of grief that she was little more than a walking vessel. She was no longer the council member he had been close to for most of his fleshed existence.

It had been weeks since that dark event and the people as a whole had yet to recover from the shock. It felt as though the entire populace was still trying to heal from a massive physical injury that had become infected. The trauma of the event had yet to give way to much else, though Kiran saw it coming.

More and more the murmurings involved talk of Shinga and Ashyina. It would only be a matter of time before the anger, which he could feel birthing beneath the surface, emerged and focused solely upon Shinga's band. It was likely that Ashyina would suddenly find herself with many followers, if she were still alive at all.

The very fact that there had been no news from Ashyina or Lapidus appeared to confirm for everyone that she was still alive. Kiran had to agree that if Shinga were to go after Ashyina, he doubted she would deal with her quietly. Her penchant for grotesque displays in her vengeance had already been made apparent. As he knew that the least of their worries was Shinga and was indeed the angels and gods more than anyone, his conviction of her still living or, for that matter, Lapidus having survived untouched was imperceptible.

The soft sigh behind his right shoulder broke into his thoughts. Clenching his jaw, he continued to ignore the intruder. Apparently, she would have none of it.

"They are both sleeping peacefully," Ferra said quietly.

Kiran gave a small grunt in reply but did not turn around.

Irritatingly, Ferra would not give up. She walked to stand next to him. Copying his stance, she braced her hands upon the stone. "They refused to fall asleep anywhere but my bed," she said. "I will join them again in a few minutes."

He grunted again.

"For some reason," she continued, "They broke into massive crying fits and hysteria when I tried to lay them down in yours. I put them in mine and they fell right to sleep."

He did not bother grunting this time mostly because he was trying to figure out why she was bothering to pester him with such inane chatter. Even more to his irritation, she seemed to understand his silence.

"They can sense your turmoil," she explained matter-of-factly. "They can sense your pain, your fear, and your anger. No child can sleep through that."

Clenching his fists, he forced his body to take in a slow, deep breath to calm himself. Though she had been perfectly kind and pragmatic in her tone, he could not help but feel attacked. After several more moments of awkward silence, he finally shot back at her.

"Am I supposed to act like nothing happened?" he barked.

His new aggression did not go over well. She immediately pulled herself up with confidence and her eyes narrowed. She took a step forward and slapped him across the face as hard as she could. He was sure that something in the region of his entire head had been injured quite badly. He had barely turned his eyes back upon her before she verbally tackled him.

"Get a hold on your thoughts for once!" she vented. "You are a Thinker and not just any Thinker. You are the council representative for all male Cats. You are a predator. I would ask you where your thought has gone but you seem to have lost your claws and your teeth as well. Perhaps you should turn yourself into a rabbit and be done with it."

With her pause, he thought she had finished her lecture but realized too late that she was only gaining enough breath to begin anew.

"You are not the only one who has lost," she shouted. Gesturing widely at the doors with one arm, she said, "There are hundreds of our people in those halls who have lost their kin. They are dead. They know for certain that those Thinkers they loved, those who we all believed immortal and without end, are gone forever, never to return. And those people know nothing of the truth of what is going on. They have been offered nothing because we have nothing that we can offer without endangering them further so their thought is permitted to work itself into a tumult that can only be stopped by answers they will never be given.

"You!" She jabbed at his chest painfully with her finger. "You have decided your worrying and unknowing are more important than anyone else's. You have decided that the unknowing is enough to warrant giving up. You have not even bothered to try finding a solution that does not involve Tryailla. You have forgotten your people, those who have been your family longer than you have known anything angel or god. And you – I am disgraced to say it – have forgotten that those small Children have lost their mother." She gestured wildly in the direction of Tryailla's statue. Without pausing, she added coldly, "Thanks to your selfishness, they have lost their father as well."

She surveyed him as though he were a rotting corpse. "You are no Thinker," she said. With a visibly clenched jaw, she spun from him and stormed out his chambers, presumably back to her own.

It was several minutes later before his shock subsided enough for him to rip his stare away from the closed doors. He shook his head as though he had been in a daze that Ferra had somehow managed to penetrate.

Slowly, he pushed himself back from the wall only to collapse upon one of the long chairs, for all strength had vanished from his muscles. What could he do? The gods and angels were far too powerful. Even if he took Tryailla out of the equation entirely, especially if he did, he could not see how they could win with their current skills. Even if they were full Thinkers again, would it make a difference?

Then, it occurred to him what Tryailla said about Thinkers being a threat to the gods and he remembered how they had seen no such gods or angels when they were true Thinkers. Why had the gods stayed away until the Thinkers had been limited by flesh?

As he searched his mind desperately for the answer, a sudden movement from the door caught his attention. Looking up abruptly, he strained against the light of the chambers to focus upon the tall figure standing there. The figure did not wait.

Lapidus walked briskly up to him and plopped himself onto the chair next to Kiran.

"Any more troubles?" he asked without preamble.

Kiran shook his head. "Either the protections over this place are still working or the gods are teasing us. There has been nothing since you left," he assured. As realization hit him, Kiran nearly jumped upon Lapidus. "Why are you here? How are you still alive?" he demanded.

Lapidus shrugged. "I was expecting to fight them," he explained. "For some reason, they have left me alone." Reaching into his robes, he pulled out the small square of cloth Kiran had given him and looked at it. He wondered aloud, "Perhaps it means that Tryailla's protections are still working. I have seen nothing of the gods and that is why I am here. Ashyina does not know I have come. I had to wait until she was asleep because she wanted us both to return together when she had succeeded."

"Succeeded in what?" Kiran asked.

"She had an idea of how to deal with Shinga," Lapidus began. "She has been trying to learn how to manipulate vibrations to become invisible in every way."

Kiran looked sceptical. "Even when we were true Thinkers, I do not know if we could manage that. Not that we ever had the need to try..."

"Exactly," Lapidus agreed. "It never occurred to me either for that very reason. I have to admit that I thought it was Ashyina being a bit obsessive again. To be truthful, she still has not managed it, though she swears she is close. But it occurred to me, if she could manage this, would it work against the angels and gods?"

Kiran's heart began to race with excitement. Could such a thing work? Even after Ferra's lecture, he had been too focused on how to overcome the gods. If they could stay hidden safely, they could take their time in working the rest out later.

"You may have the answer we need," Kiran beamed as he thumped Lapidus heartily upon the back.

Lapidus put his hands up defensively. "I have no idea if it is even possible," he cautioned. "As I said, Ashyina still hasn't been able to manage it and it was her idea. I just wanted to know what you thought about it. That, and..."

"What?"

"Why haven't they come after me?"

To Kiran's surprise, Lapidus sounded almost a little hurt. "You should be thankful," Kiran said, more than a little bitterly.

Lapidus explained, "I really am but I am also confused. Despite the cloth, it seems strange and it worries me more than if they had attacked me outright like they did the Hawks."

"Perhaps you are dismissing the protective energies too easily. If Tryailla itself has yet to fall, it is likely the cloths are as powerful as ever," Kiran reminded him.

For several moments, he considered another point. Finally, he said, "Even if the cloths no longer shield us, perhaps they are wary of you because they were unable to watch you for so long. They haven't been able to see what you have been learning over the last few years. You could be too much of a threat, especially after your victory over one of their own."

Lapidus scowled at his bringing up the past but Kiran would not feel guilty for it. Ferra was right in having berated him. They could not hide behind their grief for lost loves. Time continued its flow without their consent and that meant their enemies' plans did as well.

* * *

With a quick poke of her finger, Ashyina's fire roared to life. The austerity of the Wolves' living arrangements on Earth had made the physical survival skills she needed now quite good. Though fire was still the most difficult vibration to harness, it was not nearly so difficult to start.

Pulling her knees in tightly against her chest and wrapping her arms around them, she looked at the dark cave she had forced the two of them to call home. It was necessary. She knew it was, though she was also quite sure that Lapidus did not.

She had woken to find him gone and knew instinctively that he had returned to Tryailla. He had deliberately left while she was asleep. With a heaved sigh, she decided there was no point making an issue of it. It had long since passed that she realized the others would not comprehend the danger she did. As though it were a pestering fly, she batted away the unbidden thoughts of what the others did not know.

Deliberately, she focused on the fire to clear her mind and warm her body. It had been a long time since she had felt truly chilled in the cold. She returned her gaze to her stone surroundings.

One of the many loose rocks lay near her right foot. Slowly, she reached out and curled her chilled fingers around its more frigid surface. For a few moments, she clutched it tightly where it lay, before pulling it to her.

Slowly, she opened her fingers and stared upon the unassuming object. It looked simple enough. There was no sign of varying composition. Reaching out tentatively with her mind, she caressed the vibrations with her thought and confirmed that the substance was almost entirely uniform. The resonance lacked complexity. It hummed to her clearly, the simplicity of it somehow calming her.

Focusing upon this frequency, she tried to add her own complex and changing vibrations. Once she was sure she was fully aware of both the rock and herself, she nudged the song of her being here and there, shaping it as if it were clay, trying to meld it into the same being as the rock.

This appeared to work at first but then, it was as if she had reached a block and could go no further. There was simply too much of her own energy. As much as she tried to shape and change it, there was still more volume of her than the rock.

With a new idea bubbling to the surface of her thoughts, she stood and walked to the nearest wall of the cave. Stretching her fingers wide, she placed her palm flat against the stone and continued with the same procedure she had attempted with the rock. Although it felt as though the alterations to her energies were working at first, she was quickly frustrated when she realized the alteration seemed impossible to maintain for an outwardly perceptible length of time. It was as though her own energies, with their complexities created by her thought, could not remain still long enough to maintain the form of the rock. She could move the rock itself into other shapes but she could not alter its vibration any more than she could match her own to it.

Aggravated, she berated herself for not having predicted this trouble. After all, the Thinkers of flesh were shape shifters and yet none of them had ever taken the form of inanimate objects. Though they had never dwelt upon it too much before, she now came to the conclusion that there must be far more limitations to the forms they could take than they had ever previously explored. Did the complexity of the energies have to be similar? She thought it likely. If she could not alter the base complexity of her own energy, how could she hope to hide from Shinga?

Wanting to forget her newfound troubles, Ashyina decided to focus upon those skills she had already mastered. She walked to the back of the large dome and took a deep breath before placing both palms upon the rock. It had a striking resemblance to the granite of Earth.

Letting out her breath, she pushed and shaped the stone within the mountain to her liking. At least she was able to feel good about something. Her work was much more elaborate and yet required much less effort than had been needed by Akym and Gringa to make that first council chamber.

As though she were one of the Hawks dancing upon the winds, she felt her thoughts flow gracefully through the mountainside, she carved out several branching corridors, to what, she had not yet decided. It was when she had stopped to consider the purpose of her creation that she heard the rustling of movement.

"Welcome back," she called, as she continued to survey the new opening she had created.

Lapidus walked up behind her, asking, "What is all this?"

Shrugging, she replied, "I'm not entirely sure yet. We will need a place to live more long term, especially if others join us, but I hadn't really been thinking about that when I made it."

He walked closer to the opening and peered down the pitch-black corridor. "Where does it go?" he asked pragmatically.

"Mostly along the base of the mountain," she explained. "There is a branch or two that goes deeper."

"It needs light," he added.

With mocking impatience, she rolled her head to look at him. "Obviously. I had just started in case that wasn't clear," she said.

He gave her an impish grin before going to settle himself by the fire.

"How is Kiran?" she asked, joining him.

He looked at her uncomfortably before replying, "How did you know I was seeing him?"

"I knew you went back," she said. "What was bothering you? I would assume you had a reason for going to see him."

He shrugged. "I wanted to let him know we were alright," he said slightly too innocently.

"And?" she probed.

He had been staring at the fire but lifted his chin so that he could look into her eyes. "I wanted to see what he thought of your idea, if he had any suggestions. It would benefit more than your hunt to share such a skill with the others."

Crestfallen, she turned away from him. "Some skill," she muttered, angry with her own lack of progress. "I do not even know if it is possible."

Scooting over so that his body touched hers, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her in close. "If anyone can manage it, it will be you," he offered.

"It feels like I should be able to," she explained. "I have no idea how. My hypotheses have all been proven fatally flawed and yet I feel it. Some part of me knows it is possible. I just need to find it." With this confession, she let all strength leave her and relaxed into his protective body.

"We should get some sleep," he suggested, changing the subject entirely. "You had not been out long before I left and I was not gone much time either. How you managed to do all of that." He gestured to the newly created opening. "On such little sleep as it is, baffles me."

"I'm not tired," she protested but far too feebly for it to be truth.

He chuckled quietly. "I doubt that. If you need some persuasion, I can help," he teased.

Smiling to herself at his innuendo, she snuggled in closer to him. "Alright, we can sleep," she yawned. "But we will have to work harder in the morning."

* * *

The next morning, Lapidus woke long before Ashyina. He smiled to himself, as she had obviously been much more exhausted than she had let on.

The cave was much darker. The fire was little more than embers. Pulling his aching body to his feet, he walked to the remains and gave them a nudge of energy with his mind. Unfortunately, there was little fuel remaining and the initial rekindling lasted only moments. Irritated, Lapidus reverted so that he could squeeze out of the cave opening to fetch more.

From their first few days on this new planet, he had discovered that, while it was bitterly cold, there were the remnants of vegetation that had long since died. A forest of skeletal trees was located a fair distance from the cave mouth, far enough it could not be seen from the base of the glacier but close enough that Lapidus did not worry about travelling back to Tryailla for supplies.

His large claws and pads gripped the packed snow quite well and, reverted, he could make the journey in only a few minutes. It would have taken him nearly as long to focus through the piercing cold to teleport the distance not to mention the fact that he felt he needed the exercise. Though he could carry more if he changed form, he knew his skin would not fare well in the cold. Grudgingly, he accepted this and opted to transfer a large mouthful of branches and twigs, enough for maybe another hour. Then, Ashyina could help him bring more.

Running back, he kept his eyes focused upon where he knew the cave mouth to be as he repeated to himself that he would be warm soon. The colder he felt, the more he pushed his muscles so that he could return faster. With his determination at its peak, it was several moments before he realized he was now lying on his side, the wood he had gathered scattered pell-mell around him.

With great confusion, he stood, shaking the snow from his thick fur. He turned around to see what had caused him to slip. The snow was churned up so much from his fall, that nothing immediately caught his eye. Irritated but resigned, he began to pick up the twigs and sticks one by one.

As he crouched to grab a particularly thick piece, the ragged end dragged momentarily in the snow, just long enough to reveal something odd beneath the surface. Forgetting his errand entirely, he let the few twigs he had gathered fall and began fervently to dig the snow away from the strange surface he had seen. Once he had reached the limits of it and had apparently cleared the entire surface of snow, he involuntarily dropped his rear end to sit in the cold powder. His tail fell somewhere around his feet, as he regarded the bright symbol before his front paws.

A circular stone of white granite lay upon the ground, or at least appeared to. He brushed at the sides a bit more with one paw to see if it went further down. It did. In fact, it appeared to be the top of some kind of pillar that was now trapped within the ice and snow of the mountain. What had caught his eye, however, for the granite itself nearly matched the ice and snow perfectly, was a dark blue, widdershins spiral approximately the same diameter as his own human head. It had been incised into the stone and somehow coloured a deep blue that matched the night sky.

His mind raced with possibilities, all involving angels and gods, and none having more evidence than the one piece before him. Instinctively, he looked around, trying to ensure he was indeed alone. For a lack of any other ideas, he explored the various vibrations within his reach upon the planet. Nothing seemed strange. Nothing felt like the angels he had encountered. Nothing felt threatening despite the obvious evidence of their kind.

Looking back at the granite, he tried to determine if it were a warning – whether intentional or not – or something older and much more benign. He dug further down around the pillar, but worked his way down only a foot before being stopped by solid ice into which the pillar continued. It appeared to have been there a very, very long time.

Without any more information, and with nothing more to offer than a sore head, he hurried to cover over the symbol and gather up his sticks again. For now, he would not mention the structure, but, until he knew more, he would be keeping even more vigilant watch for any winged beings.

By the time he had returned to the cave, Ashyina was awake and sitting next to the remnants of the fire with a bowl in her hands. She smiled as she saw him squeezing through the opening.

"I tried walking down one of the corridors and stumbled upon a deposit of copper I had not noticed before," she explained as she lifted the perfect bowl to indicate how she had made use of the new find.

Human once more, he nodded his acknowledgement of her information as he absentmindedly began to add his haul to the fire. The repeated droppings in the snow had unfortunately made it moist. It was not until Ashyina pointed out the lack of growth of any flames that he forced himself to forget about the spiral and focus his mind upon drying the wood.

"Once we have warmed at little and eaten something," she said, seemingly unconcerned if he were really listening, "I thought we could make some more changes to the cave system."

He stopped his task. "You are not going to work on your invisibility?"

"I need to think about how to approach it a bit more," she said. "At the moment, I have no idea what to practice. Besides, we need to make a home for any of the other Wolves that wish to join us here."

"Is that a good idea?" he asked cautiously.

Pulling herself up tall, she replied, "No worse than them being kept upon Tryailla if they do not wish to be. Shinga has not found us here when we have been at our most defenceless. I believe it is safe here. This mountain sings to me and I know it will protect us."

He stared at here, not wanting to voice the thoughts her words had conjured. Somehow, she acted as though she had heard him, as if he had spoken. She narrowed her eyes and replied, "I am not crazy, Lapidus," she said. "All Kiran's protections were based on vibrations just as everything in this universe is based on such things. There is something about this mountain that speaks to me. There is something that I know protects us here."

Confused, he asked, "How did you know I...?"

Before he could get his question out, Ashyina pulled back in surprise. "I-I don't know. I swear you said all that. I swear I heard you," she said.

"I thought it," he explained. "I thought it all but I did not say it."

Her face showed her growing excitement. "Think something else," she asked eagerly. "I want to see if I can hear it."

He did not much like this idea. There were too many thoughts in his head that he could not have her knowing, too much information that would endanger her more than she already was. Would she ever trust him again if she knew? As his mind raced, Ashyina soured slightly and said, "Slow down and concentrate on one thing. I can't catch anything with your thoughts so wild."

He felt the colour drain from his face but hoped she did not notice. With as much discipline as he could muster, he pushed away the dangerous information by concentrating upon her own bowl, thinking about how perfect the curvature of it was.

"You like the bowl I made," she said happily. Lunging at him, she threw her arms around his neck in celebration. "Do you know what this means? It means I am already getting closer. I told you I needed to come here. I told you!"

Desperately trying to push her away just enough to relieve the heavy pressure upon his throat, Lapidus gasped in reply, "Can I make one request?"

She sat back upon her heels jubilantly as she asked him what it was.

Nervously, he replied, "Can you promise that you will leave my thoughts to me unless I know what you are doing?"

He had been afraid of this: she looked stunned. "Why would that matter?" she asked quietly.

"A Thinker should be allowed to have their own thoughts without every tiny silliness being scrutinized," he replied importantly, trying his best to make it sound like a simple expression of modesty and lack of self-confidence.

Slowly, she said, "When we were true Thinkers, such things never mattered."

It was strange to see her suddenly so vulnerable. At this moment, she did not look like an ageless Thinker who had led the council. She looked like a frightened young girl, still fumbling her way through adolescence. It broke his heart but he could not give in. "That was a long time ago," he muttered. "Things are different now."

She regarded him coolly. "Indeed they are," she said as she pushed herself to her feet. "I will be in the caves."

She left him alone to feel utterly guilty and torn as he went over the conversation in his head again. He tried to figure out how he could have done better and failed.

## Chapter 20

The great hall of the Tryaillan palace was deserted but Shinga could not hear the silence over her own pulse. Part of her was convinced she was mad to have led her band into such danger but it was the logic in her that had driven her to it.

Ashyina would not stop of her own volition. Shinga's band had kept silent these last several years, content to focus upon their own lives. Even that had not brought peace between them.

Looking down at the small blood-red stones she now held in her free hand –the other held a formed, metal blade the length of her arm - she drew comfort. Something about them made her feel confident and content when she focused upon them, as if they gave her power. They made her feel quite strongly that she could end this much more permanently than simply killing Ashyina's current vessel.

The thought terrified her and humbled her. It was this reminder that Ashyina would never relent that gave her the resolve to continue.

Her entire band had prepared themselves for the possibility of never returning to earth if they failed or if other unforeseen circumstances occurred. The problem of transporting the Children had been solved when Gryp informed them that he could share the location inside their minds. Gryp having regained some telepathy had unnerved her at first, making her wonder what he already knew. It made her suspect his stories as to how he had come by the truth had been orchestrated to hide the fact until he felt safe enough to share such information.

Shinga looked back at him in their group. He was clutching a long dagger and looking entirely uncomfortable. His base nature to worry about himself had not changed. Barjl was right about that. He was also most likely right that such nature made Gryp inherently untrustworthy but even he could not deny, as she had pointed out, that Gryp had earned some respect if for nothing more than being useful.

Looking at her other companions to see if they were ready, she felt a great surge of affection for them. Barjl and Arken had stood strongly with her since the beginning, never wavering in their support of her. The rest had been just as loyal once they had come to join them. At this moment, she knew that every other Thinker alive could cease to exist and she would not care. She had her people and they stood holding various bladed weapons, entering what was likely the most dangerous place in this universe for her, willing to risk their lives for her as much as themselves... well, all except Gryp, who would likely run if he felt too overcome, but nothing could be done about that.

As the cooler night air wafted in through the large doors, Shinga steeled herself to lead her family and Gryp onward. Gryp had informed them of the Wolves' home within the palace, how Ashyina never slept anywhere but within the Hall of Earth. The large, ornately formed wooden doors were easy to identify even without Gryp's silently indicating finger.

Crossing the large hall towards the doors, Shinga felt a piercing of dread. This new structure had very few hiding places and was brightly lit by the enormous fire in the central hearth and several torches lining the walls. She felt much the way she would have trying to sneak across an open field of short grass in the middle of the day. They hurried as best they could while trying to remain silent, though the rustling of their garments seemed entirely too loud to her.

Then the inevitable happened. It was an unfortunate likelihood given how many people lived in this one place. It was the main flaw in the plan, there were always people around. Just as they neared the large doors, close enough that Shinga could almost reach out to push them open, one of the adult Children wandered into the hall from the corridor nearest them.

The wiry man was yawning, looking as though he had just woken up, and, therefore, did not see them immediately. However, they had been caught off guard as well and had stood stupidly frozen while that moment of opportunity to act, to prevent a further problem evaporated. When the young man's eyes had cleared and had been met by the sight of the armed group, they rested upon Shinga and widened to the point of almost popping from his skull. Then he did the most predictable thing in the world. He screamed.

Though they had realistically considered the possibility that they may be forced to kill several innocent Thinkers and Children, it had been an outcome none of them had wanted. The ideal had been to make it in and kill Ashyina in her sleep, to rid all of their kid of the problem as cleanly as possible. Shinga had known such success would be unlikely and she saw that it was with great remorse in his eyes that Arken lunged forward and cut down the screaming man.

"Let's get this done!" Barjl ordered, no longer bothering to remain quiet.

They charged the door of the Hall of Earth, bursting through to see several Wolves already approaching to investigate the scream. The several Children Shinga saw were surprised only for a moment. Being unarmed and caught flat footed, many of them reverted to attack with teeth and claws. Shinga had been prepared for that. It was one of the scenarios they had anticipated to the point of training against such tactics. With ease, she and the others deflected the attacks using their own weapons to block the onslaught.

Shinga reached her mind through her bare feet to touch the earth beneath and forced it up in front of them like a wall. The assault ceased but only for a few moments before the Wolves, scratching and clawing, managed to scramble over the top. They obviously were as fervent about killing her as she was about finding Ashyina.

Before they could use the wall to their advantage by launching themselves on top of her band, Shinga pulled it back down flat so that they landed hard on their guts, being badly winded by the impact. Those in front lay momentarily incapacitated as those behind attempted to climb over to take over the fight.

As her people began their blocking anew, Shinga heard a yell from behind and spun her head to see Diurd, Worga, and Bistell grappling with several of the Dragons. Their enemies grabbed any random items they could use as weapons – rocks and metals quickly formed to have sharp points and edges – as they could not all revert to their large forms within the hall.

Barjl lopped off the head of a Wolf who had nearly gotten Shinga's neck in its jaws. She nodded her thanks to him as she yelled over the din, "We should have known the Dragons would get this involved. They never shy away from a fight."

As Barjl put all his weight into intercepting another large Wolf to throw it away with his shoulder, he grunted and said, "They love a battle too much." He looked around quickly as he fought off more attackers, trying to survey the situation without making himself vulnerable. "We need to retreat. Ashyina is not here. Gryp was wrong or he lied. Either way, we are already outnumbered and even if we kill every last one of them, we will still have to find her."

"Agreed," Shinga yelled back as she regretfully stabbed a lunging Wolf between the ribs. She was not wholly sure but she thought it might have been one of Barjl's former offspring. When she looked to see how her victim's identity might have affected him, she saw that he appeared to fight without truly seeing. He had made his choice and closed off his heart.

As the others in her group learned of her decision to retreat, she felt the pressure at her back slacken as they began to push against their attackers rather than simply restraining them. It was only a few moments before she and Barjl were fully back in the great hall. This unfortunately opened them to greater attack, as they were no longer protected on either side by the large doors. Though Shinga and Barjl still fought only Wolves, the increased number at one time made defending themselves much more difficult. Barjl, however, seemed to have gone insane and now fought in a battle lust that made him cackle and taunt wildly.

"Your new home has made you weak," he yelled. "You're slow and soft." He cackled again as he deflected the sharp canines that very nearly dug into his side and booted away another set that had almost sunk into his thigh.

While he rejoiced in their blitz, Shinga herself had narrowly fought off several more attacks. She was limited by the stones in her loose hand but she refused to drop them. To the core of her being, she knew she would die if she dropped them and more than once felt her stomach drop into her pelvis as she nearly lost her grip on them. Barjl had suggested she make a pouch for them but that idea had felt equally distasteful. She needed to touch them. She needed to feel their roughness. As she somehow concentrated upon them while successfully defended herself in a shell of flying blade, she began to feel them hum.

"We have more trouble," Arken yelled to them, despite being only on the other side of Uri who was fighting pressed against Shinga's shoulder.

Shinga dared to a brief look in the direction Arken gestured with his chin. Igella and Kiran had both entered the hall. Igella looked crazed, which was such a strange thing for her that it nearly caused Shinga to miss dodging a blow from a sharp weapon wielded by one of the Dragons who had moved around the fray. Kiran looked stunned more than anything.

Igella reverted to a large golden Hawk and screeched ear-piercingly, as she lifted herself into the air and dove at the intruders. Having to defend themselves against the air would not help matters. Igella's tactics had apparently inspired the tiny group of remaining Hawks, who had been standing in stunned silence. They too reverted.

Diurd lunged at Igella with his long spear as she tried to attack them with her talons. He nearly got her under one wing. Igella's second attempt was more cautious and Shinga knew that would give them some more time. Looking around wildly, she realized they had managed to get nearly to the large doors. The hall was packed with more and more people coming to see the cause of the commotion and to fight. Until they could break into the open, they would not have enough space to teleport. They could barely think about their own movements for defence let alone concentrate long enough to escape.

Shinga hit the stone floor hard, her shoulder screaming in pain and protest upon impact. Her sword flew from her grasp. Barjl was on top of her, having tackled her out of the way of some danger.

"Pay attention," he snarled. "I don't want anyone, let alone a council member, to kill you." He sprung off her and returned to the fray.

She saw Kiran, now a gigantic lion, spinning around after having failed in his attempt to tackle her. What frightened her most about this was not that she had not noticed his mammoth body flying towards her but that, unlike everyone else within the hall, his demeanour was entirely calm and entirely calculating. Though she was currently shielded by the bodies of her band standing above her, she knew Kiran would not let that stop him as he stalked towards her. Frantically, she sought escape. Her sword was too far from her now. They were slightly shy of the door but had been halted by Barjl having to knock her down.

"Keep moving!" she yelled to her band as she attempted to stand and move at the same time amongst them.

Kiran prowled around the large mass of fighters, looking for a better opening, his eyes focused solely upon her. His progress was slowed by his need to traverse the fallen. A small mercy, Shinga thought.

To her utter surprise, she heard a female voice she had not heard in years call to her band. "We're through!" Uri yelled to them all.

Shinga took her gaze from Kiran long enough to see that Uri was correct. While pushing to the entrance, they had thinned out the attackers enough that they had been easy to take down. Diurd was still fighting off Igella who had decided to focus upon him, being the biggest nuisance. Her great flapping wings created too much of a tumult above them for the other Hawks to gain access. With a powerful thought, Shinga created a wind gust that forced Igella to tumble.

For one moment, Shinga knew they would escape, knew they would win.

"Go!" she yelled to Uri and the others and one by one they disappeared before her eyes.

Perhaps it had been that most of her group were now already gone and he had seen his chance slipping away, but Shinga refocused upon the hall with just enough time to see Kiran flying through the air at her. There was no time for Barjl to intervene. There were no weapons at her disposal. With a scream, she stretched her hands out in a feeble effort to stop him, the stones humming wildly in her palms as she wished for nothing more than to live.

The force of his impact upon her caused her arms to buckle as they were hit by his underbelly. Their two bodies fell hard to the stone floor, her head hitting it even harder. Her head exploded in pain, her vision blanked out entirely but for the random lights popping before her eyes, and her hearing was knocked out but for a loud growling roar that ceased abruptly.

There was silence and Shinga resigned herself to a premature death.

Death did not hurt this much. She had died many times and the pain always ceased quite quickly. Had she lost all sense of time? Had she been reborn already? No, that did not feel right. She kept feeling painful bursts in her arm. Then she realized she was having trouble breathing. Every time she tried to take a breath, her mouth and nose seemed block by something very soft. She tried to push at it with her unhurt arm but there was something solid already in her hands.

The stones! Her awareness came flooding back to her. She was under Kiran's body and someone was trying to dislodge her by pulling on her arm. Why would Kiran not move? Did he really just want to smother her to death?

As she felt her body being pulled more successfully from beneath him, she began to hear shouts and wails and the clashing of weapons, but far fewer than before.

"Come on!" Barjl yelled as he pulled at her again. "Arken!"

Suddenly, the weight of Kiran's great body lessened just enough for Barjl to wedge her free. He pulled her up and shouted to the remaining others. "Let's get out of here!"

Whipping her head around, she saw that Diurd and Gryp, of all people, were holding back the small group who still fought. To her surprise, most of the hall was still. They were staring in shock at Kiran's body. She saw Ferra, who appeared to have just entered the hall, wailing and clutching at her face as if tearing it off would fix matters.

It seemed ages to her, but it was only a second that she had spent looking around and now, as Barjl tugged at her to pull her into the night air, she looked down to see why Kiran had not been moving. His eyes and jaw were wide as though he had been human and screaming in pain but his eyes were vacant and there was nothing of him left.

She felt another searing of pain across her face. Barjl had slapped her.

"I can't teleport you. Wake up and get out of here!" he screamed at her.

Feebly, she nodded, following by pushing all of the thoughts and sounds of the battle from her mind. Focusing on her home.

The silence was instantaneous. She collapsed to the soft earth and panted into it. After a few moments, she realized she was not the only one. Her band did the same. Barjl appeared to be the only one still upright, though he had collapsed to one knee and was now propping his body weight upon his large sword that appeared to have been bent at an odd angle.

"Everyone here?" he called as she saw him look around to verify the groans of reply. Once he had confirmed they were alive, he half collapsed onto his rear, throwing the useless and broken weapon away from him.

"Somehow, we managed to survive," he said.

Shinga clutched at the earth with her hands and realized she held a stone in one. Bolting upright, she looked around for the other.

"What?" Barjl asked urgently. "What's wrong?"

"I've lost a stone," she replied, looking more frantically still, Barjl now joining her.

"If what they just did is what I think they did," he said as he rummaged in the earth around her, "We definitely do not want the others to find it."

They stopped looking suddenly when they heard Gryp call to them. "You didn't lose it," he said as he staggered to his feet. "You dropped it when Kiran hit you and I grabbed it just before I teleported," he explained, now walking towards them, holding the stone out to her.

Though grateful that he had done so, her breath caught in her throat when she saw it. The stone looked as though it had been dipped in liquid gold so that half of it shone brilliantly despite the fact that it was a moonless night. With trembling fingers, she took the offering and stared at it with Barjl breathing over her shoulder trying to get his own glimpse at it.

"Perhaps that is what happens to them when..." he cut off as though he did not believe the words he had just been about to utter.

Looking at him, she asked, "What? What happened? I didn't do anything to Kiran. I didn't have a weapon!"

Barjl shook his head. "You did," he said as he indicated the stone. "Obviously a very powerful one. Kiran's vessel didn't just die. He died. That was no Thinker's death. He died like a Child."

In horror and disbelief, she shook her head. She had hoped to have some way to rid their kind of Ashyina, to do so permanently. Yet, the reality of such thoughts had never truly penetrated her and even if a small portion of it had touched her mind, she had never once considered the same fate for the others. They had been tricked and lied to. They were not at fault in the same way as Ashyina. They did not deserve such a fate.

Dropping the stone in the earth at the horror of it all, she quickly snatched it back up. Something about these strange objects made her feel torn apart when she did not have them in her possession. Holding one in each fist, she forced them into her lap and held them there, trying to keep her hands still when all she really wanted was to wring them in worry.

"What do we do?" she whispered.

Barjl stood, brushing himself off as he answered, "Follow the plan. We seek out Ashyina. The others will certainly never leave us alone after what just happened. We need to take care of our biggest threat first, before our entire race comes down upon us."

He paused, and she looked up to see that he was staring at where she held the stones in her lap. Then, a strange smile spread across his lips, "Though we now have a way to deal with her."

Shinga did not think she liked the way Barjl's blood lust still flickered in his eyes, but at the same time, she agreed that Ashyina deserved death, the ultimate death. Looking down at the stones herself, she wished she had someone, anyone, who could tell her how they worked.

## Chapter 21

Ferra felt several people tugging at her arms. She did her best to fight them off, clutching more tightly into Kiran's soft fur. Although she was dimly aware of the chaos around her, although they were unsure of how safe they currently were, she could not bring herself at that moment to care enough to move.

Kiran was gone. He may not have loved her in return but he had never ceased being her best friend. The thought made her insides roil and sink. So much for her friendship, she thought painfully as she buried her face in deeper, receiving no comfort as there was little presence to give back to her gesture.

The memory of her last full conversation with Kiran came flooding back. She had yelled at him and not given him so much as a moment to defend himself. Since then she had deigned only to nod in acknowledgement or give monosyllabic answers to questions or requests that were only immediately pertinent. How could she have treated him that way? She of all people knew of the risks they faced and should have known to treasure her relationships all the more for it.

How could he be gone? How could this happen? Tryailla was a haven. It was safe. There was no way it could happen. Shinga had no weapon, simply stopped him faster than a thought.

"His Children!" she sobbed. In her moment of grief, she had forgotten the wider implications for her family.

His Children had lost both parents. They were orphaned before they could walk. They were so young that they would never know their father's devotion or hear their mother's song.

There was no one to care for them now. She had hidden them away before running to see what had happened. The fighting had continued for so long that she was terrified of what it meant. They were still hidden, likely crying and terrified, but her legs had no strength. It was all too much.

Bracing against Kiran's body, she clutched his fur tighter still as she tried to push herself upright. Just when she thought her legs would buckle, she felt hands grasp her arms, helping her to stand.

With her tears wiped away, she saw Dyr and an adolescent Dragon Child standing on either side of her. Quietly, she thanked them for their assistance before taking a tentative step under her own weight. When she knew her legs would now hold, she began to walk, and then run to the small corridor she had used.

"Where are you going?" Dyr called after here. "We need you!"

Ferra ignored her for now. She ran despite the shortness of breath caused by her stress and her sobbing. Her heart hammered painfully and her lungs pierced as she continued to run. She stopped abruptly near the small alcove she had left only minutes ago. It was not far down the corridor from Kiran's chambers.

She had been right. She could hear the muffled cries of the babies. No one else could have heard them unless the palace had been much quieter than it now was but she knew to listen for the sound. No doubt, her own terror was what had woken them.

Hurriedly, she knelt at the end of the alcove and placed her hands upon the stone. In seconds, she had pushed it all away to create an opening exposing the small hollow in the wall that she had created. It was just large enough to cradle the two Children.

As slowly and gently as she could manage, she lifted the babies out of the opening and hoisted one into each arm as she had become so accustomed. Holding them close, she whispered calming words and hummed gentle notes in her best effort to mimic their mother's lullaby.

Her own heart was far from calm and when the heart is not calm very little of the rest of a person can be. The babies' cries grew louder and more distressed, echoing her own emotional tumult.

"Give Turgim to me," Dyr said softly at her shoulder. "It may help."

How Dyr could appear so calm given the circumstances confused and impressed Ferra. In her weakened state, she had no other ability than to comply with the suggestion.

As Dyr rocked Turgim, resulting in him almost instantly settling, she whispered, "Breathe."

Ferra stood on wobbly legs, doing her best to keep the screaming Mierna feeling secure. "I don't think he will understand you," Ferra suggested.

Without taking her eyes from Turgim, Dyr replied, "I was talking to you."

Stunned but unsure of what else to do, Ferra followed the advice, taking several breaths that had to be forced into a long, even rhythm. Though her grief did not lessen, the whirling torture within her mind began to clear. The pain still flowed freely in tears upon her cheeks, but her heart began to slow, her limbs ceased their trembling, and miraculously Mierna stopped crying. The tiny girl now looked wide-eyed at Ferra's face as though she had never before seen tears. Ferra could not help but chuckle to herself.

"It is a new thing when it isn't you or your brother, isn't it?" she teased the child, feeling strange to allow herself any measure of humour or comfort.

"Ferra," Dyr called even more softly than she had spoken before, "We must fetch Lapidus and Ashyina. The council needs to meet."

The pragmatic words brought Ferra back to reality. It was far less surreal and painful than when she had left it. The wrenching of her heart somehow felt as though it had been numbed. With her clearer head, she considered the situation and agreed.

"I cannot leave Turgim and Mierna," she explained. "Bring the council members to Kiran's chambers. They are the largest in the palace and will likely be far less crowded than the great hall."

She paused, bracing herself for the next bit of reality she knew she had to face. Gritting her teeth momentarily to gather strength, she finally added, "Have Kiran's body prepared as we did to the others. When we have sorted this mess, we will honour him."

Dyr nodded in agreement, returned Turgim to her, and left. Ferra walked back to the large, empty chambers she had made for her friend. Standing in the open doorway, she took in the air that faintly hummed with the remnants of his frequent presence. However, it was just an echo. Turgim began to fuss. Forcing another series of calming breaths, she walked to the main balcony.

The night was warm and comfortable, like it always was on Tryailla. Looking around, she found a large blanket that had been thrown over one of the couches and laid it upon the ground as best she could with arms full of babies. Gently, she placed the Children on their backs and let them kick and coo at each other to their hearts' content. They were oblivious to any previous uproar and certainly to the truth of what had happened.

Lowering herself into the nearest cushioned chair, she sat on the edge of her seat as she watched them. Somehow, trying to make herself comfortable seemed heartless and wrong, so she stayed perched awkwardly.

As they played, Ferra chuckled silently at their parentage. No one would have ever guessed that the toothless, drooling babies before her had come from the strongest and most powerful of Thinkers and angels. They were still so vulnerable.

Tryailla had anticipated this. Perhaps she had not seen the exact truth of the future, but she had known it would not end well. She had begged Ferra to care for them and protect them, especially the truth of their parentage more than anything else. There had been no question in agreeing and now the weight of the burden fell upon her more strongly than ever before.

Though she loved them and had cared for them often, sometimes deep into the night, it would not be the same. She was all they had now and though she had never once considered herself as strong and as able as their parents, she would now have no choice but to be more so. They needed a protector and she was it.

Quite some time later, Turgim and Mierna fell asleep in mid-swat at each other. The blanket could not have provided much cushioning from the stone but Ferra had long since learned it unwise to interfere with a happily sleeping baby. Rather than carry them to the soft bed in Kiran's room, she remained at her perch, waiting for the other council members to arrive.

She did not know how long had passed, though it seemed most of the night to her, before Dyr returned with the others. Quietly, she stood from her place as she heard them enter. Her legs felt as though they would give way because she had remained sitting awkwardly for so long. She watched solemnly as Dyr, Igella, and Lapidus came to join her.

"Are there really so few of us left?" she wondered aloud.

"Ashyina insisted on staying behind," Lapidus explained. "She says this proves she has even less time than we had hoped to find a way to bring a proper end to all of this."

"I hope she is not trying to learn what Shinga has just demonstrated before all of us, if that was even her," Ferra said bitterly.

Her statement confused Dyr and Igella. Lapidus gave her a warning look. If the angels had found Tryailla, she was unsure there was a point in keeping the secret any longer but Lapidus' expression had given her pause long enough to wait until she had spoken with him privately to divulge all she knew. Quickly, she added, "Sorry, I'm rambling. It has been difficult."

Dyr and Igella instantly softened.

"We need to figure out what exactly happened," Lapidus said and the weight to his tone indicated to Ferra that she was right in thinking he had other ideas.

"What is there to know?" Igella said angrily. "Shinga has found us again and slaughtered dozens of our Children, killed the vessels of several Thinkers, and entirely ended the existence of another and that was just tonight!"

"But this seems so strange," Lapidus explained.

Dyr scoffed, "I see nothing strange about it. She cut down almost an entire species of our people and now that she knows where the rest of us are, she has decided to finish the job."

Lapidus was confused. "How did she know where to look?"

"Didn't I tell you?" Dyr asked. "Gryp was with them. That cowered betrayed us all. He wasn't harmed after the massacre of Fa'ah, he was terrified for himself and defected to what he felt was the stronger side."

This news appeared genuinely to shock and worry Lapidus, for he said nothing but Ferra could see his mind working. Now that he was so concerned, her own mind began to race through the significance. If Gryp had returned to Earth, he could be at the mercy of the angels. Knowing what he did about Tryailla and given his selfish nature, their safety had just taken another blow. They both seemed to have come to this conclusion at the same moment, looking up simultaneously to exchange significant glances.

Dyr kicked the wall and followed this by hopping on one foot, indicating − silently once she noticed the babies − that she had hurt herself in the process.

"What is it?" Igella asked her.

"I'm just angry," Dyr explained. "How could we have been so stupid to trust Gryp? He has never liked anyone. How could we not have seen?"

"That is unfair," Ferra offered, surprising herself but the unbidden thought had too much merit to ignore. "Before this mess with Shinga, we had no reason to doubt any Thinkers or Children. There was no reason to believe Gryp's flaws had reached such a level. And, given how strange our lives have been since it all happened, there is no telling what threats he perceived."

"You are defending him far too much," Dyr shot back. "A true Thinker would never betray others that way."

"Maybe not," Ferra reasoned, "But I think Lapidus is right. There is more going on here. Why didn't Shinga attack us in the same way she did the Hawks? During that event, her special weapons easily overcame hundreds of Children and dozens of Thinkers in only a few minutes."

Igella and Dyr considered these words. "That is strange," Igella began. "The only truly skilled Thinkers who had made it to the battle were Kiran, Dyr, and I. Even at that, we arrived quite far into the event, or so it appeared, and they weren't fending us off easily."

"Their weapons were simple formed metals," Dyr added, "Nothing like what was described on Fa'ah. Why wouldn't they bring such things here after already having used them against the Hawks?"

Igella and Dyr descended into exchanging random thoughts about why Shinga would make such a move. Maybe she had not known the effects the weapons would have. Maybe she was taunting them. Maybe...

Ferra looked to Lapidus who walked over to her with the pretence of crouching to see the still sleeping babies.

"Do you think this was the real Shinga?" Lapidus whispered.

"It is likely," Ferra said immediately. "For the simple fact that the weapons were different. Though the effects of her attacks in at least one case were the same," she said bitterly.

Lapidus was able to keep a cooler head and said, "But even that was different. Igella told me that Shinga put her hands out and Kiran just dropped when he hit them. The others were attacked in a different way, which is why they did not die instantly. An angel's weapons do not work like that. It is likely this means that Shinga really has learned how to destroy a Thinker.

"There is something else," he whispered again as she knelt down to straighten the edge of the blanket needlessly. "When Dyr came to get me, she said they were trying to get into the Wolves' hall but then retreated. I saw the carnage when I walked by it. There was nearly a wall of the dead. That does not look like they were fleeing for their lives."

"You think they had some other plan and the fighting was unintended?" Ferra suggested.

Lapidus said nothing for a moment as he looked down at Mierna and Turgim, who had one hand resting upon his sister's face. "Attacking at night, leaving short of a goal when the resistance was manageable, fighting with blades when she held such power? I think they were looking for Ashyina and tried to leave when they discovered she wasn't here," he explained.

"Does this mean we really do have to worry about Shinga as well as... other threats, now?" Ferra asked wearily.

Lapidus stood but did not turn to face Igella and Dyr, who were still preoccupied with the exploration of their random theories. "This may complicate matters and make it all the more dangerous for us in dealing with the angels," he said. "I am going to seek her out and tell her the truth."

Ferra forced herself to remain calm and not jump with her surprise. "Do you think that's wise? We haven't even told those we trust for the safety of all. Not to mention the fact that I think even the real Shinga, especially with her band, could kill you and would most likely enjoy doing so."

He dared to look her in the eyes as he replied, "I have to try. If this kind of thing continues, there will be much more to worry about than my death, whether permanent or otherwise. You keep those twins safe and I will take care of Shinga." Hesitantly, he added, "I will leave immediately and I do not plan to tell Ashyina. She will only try to stop me and this is too important. When she no doubt comes looking for me, you can tell her where I have gone."

Filled with trepidation, Ferra did not want to agree but she knew Lapidus well enough to know there was little point in arguing further. She nodded in agreement before turning back to Igella and Dyr, whose theories had now descended into the wildness of love triangles involving Gryp and Barjl.

"Enough," Ferra called, firmly but not unkindly. "We still have work to do."

Igella and Dyr immediately ceased their talking and looked at her expectantly.

"Igella, if you are willing, I have a dangerous task for you," Ferra began. When Igella did not appear to shrink away at this, she continued. "We need someone to return to earth to find Akym and Gringa. I want to ensure they are still safe. If they are alright, they need to be told about what has been happening. Make sure you have your cloth. You never know what could help."

Igella nodded in agreement though she looked far less comfortable.

Ferra ignored this sign of wariness and turned to Dyr. "I have to keep watch over the twins so I need you to oversee..." Her voice caught momentarily in her throat. With a forced cough, she dislodged the stubborn blockage and continued with more roughness to her voice than she had wanted. "To oversee the arrangements for Kiran," she finished.

Dyr nodded.

Ferra looked at their tiny council. It felt hollow and strange for this to have been a council meeting but a meeting it had been nonetheless and now they had much to do. "There is no time to waste," Ferra goaded.

The others agreed.

## Chapter 22

Staring at the fire, Gryp listened absently to the plans Shinga's band considered. They sat circled around the flames together.

They no longer had any idea where Ashyina was and it mad the situation much more frustrating for them. They had prepared, even expected to have been forced to pursue her but even he had expected it would have been a different kind of pursuit than they were now facing. They had hoped that there would be some clue, some hint as to how to find her. Even if she had not been where they had intended to look, they had hoped to have had the opportunity to question one of the Wolves. The young man who had interrupted their efforts had caused the entire plan to fall apart.

"If only I had killed that man sooner," Arken grumbled. "I could have stopped him from screaming and waking up the entire planet."

Barjl patted him reassuringly on the shoulder.

Diurd said, "We should have been better prepared for that kind of thing. We should have agreed to keep people quiet no matter the cost."

Though Diurd had not been attacking or critical in his comments, Arken looked at him sharply before saying through gritted teeth, "I'm sorry. I have never had to kill an innocent person before."

Shinga let out an audible sigh that caught everyone's attention. "None of us has," she said resignedly. "Unfortunately, we killed many of them tonight. How could anyone anticipate what that would be like? It wasn't like the others. They had wronged us. They had shown how deranged they had become. They seemed somehow less..."

"Human?" Barjl offered when she paused. Shinga nodded solemnly.

"What have we become?" she whispered, looking into her hands, each holding one of her precious stones.

Gryp eyed them hungrily. When he had grabbed the first stone upon Tryailla, he had felt exhilaration, that the task set him would not be as difficult as he had first thought. Quickly, reality had set in. It was unlikely Vanagandr would be pleased with only one out of the two stones. He had seemed so concerned about them and that alone implied Gryp's success relied upon an all or nothing attempt. If he had kept the one stone and Shinga had found out before he had gotten the second, his chances of accomplishing the second half of his mission would disappear entirely. It was with this in mind that he had handed the first stone back to her, hoping the small gesture would earn enough of her trust to make stealing both the objects later all the easier. He would simply have to keep a closer eye on Shinga and her possessions in the coming days and hope for a better opportunity.

Breaking the silence, Barjl spoke only slightly more loudly than Shinga had. "We have become what they helped make us," he reasoned. "They forced us into this. Ashyina framed you and after tonight, no one is going to believe otherwise."

"We should have never gone," Shinga replied quietly.

This seemed to have awoken a new anger within Barjl. "Of course we should have," he said, jumping to his feet. "We went because Ashyina has been working as hard as she can to turn the others against you. We went to stop her so that the rest will leave us alone. Especially now, we cannot give up. Ashyina will have more to use against us, more to rally the others to her cause of hunting us down. And if they find us, especially if they find those," he gestured to the stones, "They are unlikely to listen to our story let alone treat us with any mercy. They will likely make sure the same thing happens to you as did Kiran. The only way to end this has not changed. In fact, it has become only more important. We must find Ashyina."

Gryp scoffed unintentionally.

"You have a problem with that Dragon?" Barjl growled.

Trying to appear as no threat, Gryp lowered his shoulders slightly, just enough to exude lack of confidence. "No," he answered with false meekness. Gryp did not doubt Barjl was still considering using bladed metal to destroy his current vessel but it was not this Wolf that frightened him. "I simply do not see how it can be done," he added. "Ashyina could be anywhere and we have no way of tracking her."

"He is right about that," Barjl said to Shinga without moving his gaze.

Shinga looked into her hands again.

"What is it?" Barjl asked.

She continued to examine the stones and appeared to be probing them with her energies. She yelled incoherently in frustration. "If only I knew how these things even worked!" she vented.

"Maybe they do not do anything else," Arken suggested.

"They do. I know they do," she replied so fervently that the others did not speak but only looked at each other nervously. They were still not entirely comfortable with the effect the stones appeared to have upon her.

Jumping to her feet, she began to pace as she caressed the stones in her fingers. "I have no gift for this kind of thing. It was hard enough to bring my abilities back to this point. Even that seemed to push me beyond my limits." Wheeling upon the others, she asked, "Do any of you have any ideas?"

The nervous glances were exchanged once again, this time with the odd shake of the head.

More because Gryp wanted as much as possible to put himself into Shinga's graces, he cleared his throat. She spun to face him.

"What?" she growled, almost exactly like Barjl was wont to do.

"I do not have any theories myself but there is a Thinker who has a particular skill at this sort of thing," he offered.

Her shoulders fell in defeat. "It does not matter what skills the other Thinkers have. We cannot go back to Tryailla. It is likely we would not survive the next time," she explained.

"I am not talking about one on Tryailla," he replied calmly. "There is one right here on Earth who is better at experimentation and invention than any other Thinker."

As her memory appeared to click into place, she took a sharp intake of breath. "Akym?" she mouthed.

Gryp nodded.

Barjl seemed to want to protest, to argue against Gryp just to spite him, but the idea apparently had too much merit for he held himself back and considered it. "It would be far less dangerous to go to the Monkeys than what we just did," he offered reasonably.

Shinga seemed to consider this as well. "There is no guarantee he will help us. He probably thinks like the others do, that we have lost our thought and are a crazed and violent group waiting only to murder them all."

"I think the very fact that we have left them alone so long would give Akym pause," Barjl reasoned. "It is worth a try. If it does not work, we will likely have a much easier time escaping than we did on Tryailla. Akym is no fighter and the Monkeys have very few living, adult Thinkers at the moment. Their population is mostly Children of adolescent age or younger. They are little threat to us even in an all-out brawl."

Unfortunately, Gryp could tell that Shinga remained unconvinced but she also seemed to be growing weary and did not wish to argue anymore, saying simply, "I will consider it." Then, she walked alone from their earthen house.

* * *

Shinga could not burst into the night air fast enough. Looking around at the eastern horizon, she could see the slight lightening of the sky indicating morning was not far behind. For now, the air still remained cool and crisp enough to be refreshing and she would likely have at least another hour before that changed.

Her apprehension about visiting the Monkeys had little to do with Akym's knowledge or even the possible physical danger. It had mostly to do with the stones themselves. She had nearly lost them on Tryailla and something inside her knew that would be very, very bad. The more people who knew of their existence, the more likely it was that someone would try to destroy them or take them from her. Hiding their existence would be better, but she needed to be able to hide them while still being able to use them.

Looking around for inspiration, she saw Barjl's broken weapon. Quickly, she walked over to it and collapsed onto her knees before it. Although Barjl could have easily mended the form, she assumed his actions after their return indicated he no longer wanted it. Looking at the bloodied blade, she did not blame him. In fact, she found it quite repulsive and nearly heaved when she noticed a small chunk of human entrails caught upon the jagged and chipped tip. Wiping the surface in the grass to remove the debris and blood was not making much progress. Instead, she decided to carry it to the nearest stream to wash the blade.

The moisture helped dislodge the dried blood and a tuft of rough grass scrubbed along the surface removed the last of the stain from their battle. Holding the cleaned blade up in the dim light, she examined her work. Satisfied, she sat back upon her heels at the stream edge, holding the blade and the stones in her lap. Closing her eyes, she concentrated upon the vibrations.

Barjl had formed several metals into the weapon, she soon discovered. There was only one she wanted for hers. Reaching out, she found the familiar particles that all danced with the same expected frequency. Then, she focused upon the stones, which she had pressed together. As she was not altering the strange objects, only coating them, the task was completed in a matter of seconds. When she was finished, she held up the silver fang just as she had done the blade to examine its surface.

Unlike the worn blade, this fang sparkled with the purity of the metal and the flawless surface she had formed. It was smooth and cool to the touch and yet she had made the curvature just the right size for it to fit in her hand without difficulty. It felt right as she clutched it in her palm. This one object would be much easier to keep track of than the two stones and if she ever did find Ashyina, it would be much easier to kill her by running it through that traitor's heart.

* * *

Akym had been indulging in a rare moment of resting his thoughts when he had heard Gringa call to him. Floating on his back in the rippling waters that flowed from the waterfall, he had been listening to several of the Children who were just old enough to have learned to transition in the last year playing and splashing nearby. Every now and then, he indulged in shouting out a tease or mock remonstration to which the Children would freeze and stare.

They were not accustomed to Akym socializing with the group, especially not so jovially. However, he had felt he deserved it after he had been spending so much time working on the stones. Though he had made almost no progress since the last revelations he had shared with Gringa, he was feeling somehow calmer. Perhaps the stones had that effect on him.

"I told you to get over here!" Gringa yelled again.

Begrudgingly, he called back, "You are the one always berating me for not relaxing enough."

"You can relax later!" she shouted impatiently.

The comment and the angry tone were completely unlike her. This alone caused him to lift his head. To his surprise, he saw standing next to her Igella, looking very solemn. His heart gave a small tumble. It could not be good news.

"I will meet you in the cave," he yelled back.

This appeared to have satisfied Gringa, for she nodded emphatically and turned to lead Igella.

Several minutes later, he sat dripping himself dry. In the waterfall cave, he had created a fire to aid his drying. He looked at Igella questioningly, waiting for her to explain.

"Ferra sent me to make sure that all of you are alright," she began, her eyes focused upon the fire as she spoke.

"Of course we are," Akym replied. "That cannot be the only reason that..."

"It is not," she said, cutting him off. "We were particularly concerned due to recent events that have happened on our new home."

"What events?" Gringa asked slowly, her tone revealing that she very much did not really want to know.

"There have been some attacks," Igella explained. "Two separate events."

She told them of the Hawks' migration and the disastrous results, how Shinga's band had ambushed them and killed them with strange weapons, how even the Thinkers died like Children. She went on further to explain how Tryailla had been discovered and how again Shinga's band had attacked and that Kiran fallen.

There was so much information to take in. It had been years since they had communicated and there had obviously been much happening but it was Kiran's death, especially the description of it, that caused Akym and Gringa to sit in stunned silence for so long.

"Why has she left us alone?" Gringa wondered aloud. "We have been an easy target. There are no such protections here as you describe upon Tryailla. Why not attack us before any of the others?"

Igella's jaw tensed but she did not take her gaze from the fire as she said, "We don't know."

Akym stood and paced, his mind racing. It was the not knowing that would bring him the largest grief. How could a Thinker truly die? How could thought be ended so easily? He thought of the stones he had found and how many of their mysteries still eluded him. There was far too much in this universe he did not understand, despite his belief that he had seen it all when they had first arrived. Moreover, what could all the tragedy serve? If Shinga simply liked to kill her own people, Gringa's question was valid. If it was something else, why kill indiscriminately at all? Too much did not make sense.

His mind shifted to those she had killed, to Kiran, to the Children. He shook his head in disgust. How could anyone justify such actions? Looking up, his eyes fell upon the small marks he had made after the first murders. These latest victims were no less. They were not the first, but that somehow made it all the more tragic. Mimicking the motions he had made after the first event, he chose a sharp, broken stone from the dirt floor and began to mark the vertical lines in rows surrounding the first few. He kept making lines for all those he knew had died and only stopped to lean weakened against the wall. His head against the stone kept him upright, as he asked Igella, "How many more was it?"

Only now did she raise her eyes. Turning his head slightly so that he could see her, he saw that her eyes were wide at what he was doing and they were full of tears. She looked at the cave walls, seeming to evaluate them.

"More than these walls could hold," she cried softly. "I am the only remaining Thinker of the Hawks. There are only a handful of Children left. They were to go with me when I joined the others. Dozens more from tonight. I do not know the number." Her voice trailed off in a feeble whisper.

Akym's insides roiled. There had always been death. The Children died and did not return and the longevity of the Thinkers had made them somewhat accustomed to it so that the grief was not so debilitating each time. However, it was always there. Even Akym who had little interest in the Children felt the loss of the unique contribution that each Child made to their whole. But this... His hands clutched around his writing implement. He squeezed so hard that he felt the unrelenting edges of the rock would dislocate his finger joints. Still he squeezed. His mouth was dry. His eyes were as well but he did cry. His organs riled and fought each other too much for him not to be truly crying.

Forcing himself to support his weight once more, he continued with his task. He would mark the entire cave; every clean stretch of stone large enough would hold a mark. They needed to remember. Their kind needed to hold on to the knowledge of what some of them could descend into doing. If the stones showed it, even the Thinkers' memories would seem fallible in comparison to this monument. If there was no Thinker left, the Children would know.

* * *

It had been no surprise to Lapidus that his old home was entirely deserted. Having been one of the last people to leave it in the evacuation, it appeared that aside from the obvious hand of natural forces – winds, vegetation, and the activity of small animals – everything had remained where they had left it. To be absolutely sure there was nothing of interest, he walked swiftly through the main cave to descend into the depths of the old council chamber.

As he approached the doorway, he slowed, listening and looking for any sign of a threat. When all seemed equally deserted as the caves above, he walked into the chamber. The light was dimmer than he remembered it. Looking up, he saw that quite a large amount of overgrown vegetation was hanging loosely through the small circular opening, obscuring most of it.

Although he had not expected anything different than the layers of dirt and random patches of mossy growth that he now saw aging the room far beyond its years, he still found himself questioning the surreal ghosts of nostalgia that lapped at his memories. Stranger still was the thought that his people had once coexisted in complete peace and cooperation as well as complete ignorance of their watchers. The idea felt so foreign to him now that he could not help but question if that life ever existed. In such a short time, the realities of the universe had altered every aspect of his life, making the past as detached and vague as a fuzzy, barely remembered dream.

Shaking his head back into the present, he brushed away the old memories that now tried to align themselves with the faded wall drawings and dirt filled floor carvings. There was nothing left in this place for any of his kind, let alone any clues that would lead him to Shinga. Leaving the cave, he blinked painfully against the sudden brightness.

It was still early enough in the day that he could travel quite far. As he had little idea where to begin, teleportation seemed pointless. He resigned himself to a long day ahead of hiking. Before setting off once more, he checked the inside folds of his loose shirt where he had formed a pocket to hold the small cloth Kiran had given him. He had no idea if the energy around it would still keep him safe but he hoped that it explained why he had lasted this long without being taken.

Surveying the well-known surroundings once more, he decided to walk to the west where he knew the terrain would eventually form a natural path he could take to get to higher ground. From the foothills, he hoped he would be able to get a better view of the land and with luck see some sign of Shinga without having to explore the entire planet, a task for which he had neither the reserves nor the time.

It was not until he was deep into traversing the forest he knew so well that he discovered it had rained quite heavily not many days before. His progress became greatly impeded by the slick earth. What little progress he did make was now filled with irritation as he quickly became covered in muck. Trying to minimize his grumbling with little success, he decided to change his planned route.

Nearby, the rocky hill ascended quite steeply to a forested area near its top. It appeared from where he stood that it flattened out, though this particular spot he had never explored previously, so he was not entirely confident in his assessment. Nevertheless, he could see the edge well enough and figured, if nothing else, he could easily hold himself upon it without falling. With the speed of his practiced concentration, he placed himself on exactly that spot.

To his relief, the surrounding terrain did flatten out quite nicely. In fact, the trees near the edge of the outcropping had given a false impression of how densely forested it was. Much of this elevated terrain was covered in thick tufts of long grasses, which, by their golden colour, had been baking in the sun for quite some time. He hoped this boded well for how dry the underlying terrain might be.

Without further delay, he dodged through the trees to break out onto the flatter terrain and revelled in the much faster and easier pace it afforded him. Now that he was out of the muck and the dark of the forest, he was able to appreciate how fine a day it really was.

Only a few puffs and wisps of clouds floated serenely through the sky. The sun was warm but a gentle breeze took away any sense of being scorched. The air felt entirely comfortable. Breathing out contentedly, Lapidus realized how much he had truly missed this place. He had accepted the necessity of their move to Tryailla and had tolerated Ashyina's experiment but just as Ashyina spoke of her new home singing to her, he now felt the same about Earth, though he had never before noticed it.

He walked happily, his limbs feeling wonderfully light as they were no longer being weighted down by his muddy struggle. Just as he was about to close his eyes to savour another deep breath of the clean air, he felt his descending foot sink lower than expected. In that same second, he looked down and realized only too late that there had been a deep hole, into which his leg now fell.

It had been a small hole, only big enough for his leg, but in the painful moment when the rest of his body hit the ground hard and he grabbed at the surrounding grass to pull himself up, the surrounding earth eroded away in a rush. The earth beneath him gone, Lapidus was falling, flailing out desperately for anything he could grab. The suddenness of it all caused a terror that wiped all thought momentarily from his mind. The instinct of his flesh took over as he continued to claw at nothing. His fingers failed to find purchase.

As he plummeted into a roaring underground river, the cold water froze his chest, forcing his lungs to constrict painfully. Desperately, he tried to swim to the surface but the turbulent waters were too difficult to fight. When he finally felt as though the currents were just right for him to make an attempt to ascend, he felt his cloak catch, holding him beneath the surface. Tugging at it made no difference. As he felt his final moments approaching, his thoughts resurfaced.

Within a moment, he had reverted so that clothes no longer held him. He had improved agility and traction in this form, even in the turbulent waters and was able to steady himself long enough to concentrate upon the warm grass above.

A moment later, his paws rested upon the brittle tufts and he shook his entire body violently to rid himself of the extra water. Panting from the excitement and the exertion, he then collapsed and waited for his strength to return.

He could tell he was nearing strong enough to get underway again when his mind had enough energy to berate him for his stupidity. His lack of attention had set in motion a series of events in which he had behaved very little like a Thinker. Especially when his entire quest involved seeking out a dangerous enemy, there could be no such further mistakes.

Grudgingly, he got to his feet, changed back into a man, and began walking once more; this time with more focus upon his tangible surroundings and less upon the weather and the sky.

He had not gone far before he felt an overwhelming smugness wash over him, but it did not feel like his own. He had little to be smug about given what had just happened.

The power of it made him freeze. Feeling as though he were being watched, he considered the situation. His heart pounded. The quality of the external emotion was cold and teasing and the suddenness and strength of it made him dread what he would turn to find.

Quickly, he checked his inside pocket and swore. The cloth had been claimed by the underground river. Wanting to delay the inevitable, but knowing he could not, he turned slowly around.

The woman, who appeared at least as tall as he, was several arms lengths away. She stood naked and looked entirely human with no strange attributes like he had seen upon other angels. Her arms hung loosely at her side but her posture and the incline of her chin spoke of a sense of superiority. Her eyes were too dark for him to tell the colour from his distance but it was quite obvious she was looking at him as if he were delicious prey.

Her lips were distractingly red in comparison to her pale skin. Her raven's black hair cascaded in waves down her back to beyond her buttocks so that it framed her voluptuous figure. He tried his best not to stare at her large breasts or the contrast of the hair between her legs against her pale skin.

He said and did nothing, unsure of what would be too dangerous. She gave him an unconvincing pout and walked towards him. She did not speak but her emotions radiated from her so strongly that he could easily discern her meaning.

She was mocking him, pretending to be hurt by his lack of enthusiasm for seeing her. This confused him. He had no idea who she was and had never met her before, yet all of his information indicated none of the possibilities would be encouraging.

She stopped right next to him, lifting her hand to run the tip of a long, slender finger along the edge of his ear and down the side of his neck. It was sure force of will that prevented him from jumping at her touch. Far from feeling erotic, it made his insides go cold as it felt as though her fingers were inside him, searching for something that he was unwilling to give. Her emotions were admiring now. She liked what she saw and felt as though she had been gifted a fabulous novelty. The sense of entitlement and ownership was overwhelming.

If he had thought he was uncomfortable as his blood ran cold before, he now realized it was nothing compared to how it felt to have it drain out into the ground through his feet. Any thoughts he had managed to latch onto when she first made her presence known had promptly vacated his brain, leaving behind only terror and one name.

"Lilith?" he whispered as his breath vacated his body in one, winded instant.

She leaned just enough so that she could look into his face and be sure he saw her. She was smiling deviously. With an energetic hop, she stood straight as a board in front of him. A broad smile on her face, she then proceeded to... skip away?

This action had been so unexpected that Lapidus nearly relaxed under the delusion that he was simply having a twisted nightmare. Lilith's behaviour, however, abruptly changed again.

She looked down at her naked body and frowned as though considering something. There was confusion combined with disgust now. She ran one finger down the curvature of one of her breasts and continued trailing it down her abdomen. Irritation wafted from her. It was seemingly at the confines of the body itself. It made him feel queasy. Abruptly, she looked at him questioningly as if she wanted him to explain the appeal.

More out of shock than defiance, he said nothing.

She shrugged and skipped back to him, a sly smile spreading across her lips. When she was near enough, she threw an arm around his neck and pulled him close so that his head was forced to rest upon her shoulder. Feeling very similar to when the muck had covered him earlier in the day, he cringed as her mischievous arousal seemed to drip off her skin onto his.

If Lapidus were not currently at her mercy, he would have found this entire encounter comical, even stupid. As it was, he had little trouble understanding why Tryailla feared Lilith. The unpredictability coupled with how vast he imagined her power could be was enough to make even the strongest and bravest wish to hide. Her silence made the entire scene more disturbing.

He shifted his eyes to see that she was now twirling her hair around a finger on her free hand. Daring to look up, he saw that her face appeared entirely vacant, as though she had drifted into a daydream. How could he determine the best way to act when dealing with such a person? Her mind shifted direction more frequently and violently than the winds.

Doubting such a bold move as fleeing would be successful, he cleared his throat to see if she would realize that she was still holding him by the neck.

Still gazing vacantly into the distance, she lapped at his mind with cheery and placating emotions. She moved her hand so that she was simultaneously holding his head against her shoulder more firmly and petting him at the same time.

He stared awkwardly at the grass at their feet, considering teleportation but somehow doubting he would be able to manage it. After several more moments of their awkward embrace, he decided to attempt it regardless of the low probability of success.

As his thoughts reached for his vibrations, he found he had trouble focusing upon them. It was as if random parts of himself were moving and oscillating into differing frequencies so that he was unable to focus upon any one group long enough to gather up the others.

He was pulled from his meditation by excruciating pain. His chest felt as though it had been ripped from him, and it burned with the fire of trauma to millions of nerve endings. Writhing upon the ground, he pressed firmly against his chest with both fists, trying desperately to help ease the pain.

She was firing outrage upon him in punishment for his attempt.

His eyes were clenched shut but he knew she stood above him. Through his seething and panting, he could barely focus upon her as she continued to assault him with her hatred. Her energies spoke of defied ownership, determination to have obedience, and the threat of further reprisals.

Though he was quite sure the pain itself was not diminishing, the power of it over him was as he became accustomed to its intensity. Sitting up and looking down at his chest, he saw that the sensation he had felt was not far from truth. Over his heart, he could see the marks from her nails where she had dug in with her bare fingers and ripped a sizable chunk of his skin from the area. Through a layer of sticky blood, he could see one of his ribs. To his surprise, he was not actively bleeding; the wound remained gaping without oozing just as Tryailla's had. The similarity caused a further dropping of his stomach.

Lilith appeared to understand his expression. She was pleased by his comprehension of what it meant and seemed perfectly willing to do it again if necessary.

Where he got the courage, he did not know, but his anger ran hotly through him and he glared up at her. "I am not an angel! I am a Thinker!" he cried triumphantly, though he had little to claim for victory.

To this, Lilith laughed, greatly amused. Sauntering up to him, she squatted down so that their faces were nearly level. The breeze rustled her hair slightly, blowing a small lock into her face. She ignored it. Her eyes spoke of how little he was to her. He was not a threat on his own. His race had proved far less trouble than she had feared.

"Why bother yourself with me then?" he challenged.

Her face darkened but he could feel a similar emotion from before, novelty and entitlement as well as a confidence that he, and possibly others of his kind, could be useful.

"Especially those that could win you a war," he mocked what he had sensed from her.

Instantly, her expression became like stone, her hand rested upon his shoulder and she dug her long nails into his flesh. She wanted the others too but could not find them.

This admission that those on Tryailla were still hidden lifted most of Lapidus' stress from his mind and he threw his head back and laughed a great belly laugh. Even the pain from his newly inflicted wound could not diminish his happiness.

Lilith slapped him across the face so hard that he thought his head would leave his shoulders entirely. Her hatred and outrage flooded him once more. It would all go away if he simply told her what he knew.

He almost wanted to give it to her. The emotion was so strong. The drop of pleasure she offered tickled and zapped through his nervous system, confusing his pain. The offer was nearly too seductive.

However, he looked confidently back at her. Her eyes were a dark, roiling violet. The colours of her irises moved and danced as if they were the clouds of a violent storm.

"Did the Hawks not know?" he taunted.

To his surprise, she smiled. It was not a pleasant smile but spoke of a maliciousness he knew would make him regret his open defiance.

Reaching down, she took both his hands in hers, squeezing them painfully, again allowing her nails to scratch him. She would show him.

## Chapter 23

Until the war, there had been little need for the Thinkers to mourn the deaths of their kind. The Children who died were missed by those who had cared for them in life and the toll it had upon those left behind depended entirely upon the individuals involved. Most of the Thinkers had become so accustomed to seeing their Children die that the reality of the situation had become a pragmatic affair for many of them. They cared no less for each Child but after countless lives facing this particular reality of their strange new existence, the shock and confusion of loss had worn away so that it was quite rare for a Thinker truly to mourn. This was no longer the case upon Tryailla.

The deaths of Avorlig and Ventha, while tragic and unexpected, had yet to have a full explanation attached to them. The possibility of them still being present, in one of the youth born since that time, had yet to be ruled out. For this reason, it was not until the massacre that any – Child or Thinker – had ever experienced any true grief over the death of a Thinker.

Due to the lack of concern over such events previously, there had been no ritual or agreed upon arrangement for marking such deaths. A Thinker's vessel would have been discarded entirely. If given any treatment at all, it would simply be related to the best possible way to dispose of the rotting flesh. No care or concern was associated with the abandoned shell. As it was thought and not flesh that was most prized, even the deaths of the Children were often marked only by remembrance and little more.

Somehow, that all seemed to change after the massacre. There had been so many dead and the event causing them had been so overwhelming. The first Thinkers who died were disposed of in the old ways as no thoughts could be spared upon much else given the immediate tasks at hand. As the numbers of dead continued to rise and as each death confirmed once again that their thought had been destroyed as well, many felt there needed to be more significant tribute paid to those who had cared for the whole for so long.

Each had been treated differently; the manner of their ritual shaped by the small group tasked in caring for them. Some groups had buried the dead with cherished belongings and others had created pyres and burned the bodies to allow the ashes flight upon the winds as if they were the remnants of thought. Therefore, it was not until Kiran that any formal plan had been made.

When Ferra had asked Dyr to ensure he was prepared as the others, she had not truly cared what that meant. Dyr, who for her part seemed to have realized this, had his body left untouched in the hall of spirit until she could confirm an amenable course of action.

As Ferra stood beneath the grand arch, the winds whipping at her hair and dress, she recalled that first surreal moment of walking into the dark hall to see the lifeless lion lying upon the raised platform. The hall seemed so long then, as though she walked half the planet before coming to stand before him. She had seen dead animals, had killed many herself in her time, but the motionless beasts had never disturbed her as much as this one.

Falling to her knees, she had taken one of his large front paws into her hands. It was so heavy that it made her wonder if thought lightened the body. She had stroked the soft fur upon this paw, had rubbed it against her cheek, trying desperately to clutch at any remnant of him that may have remained. There had been nothing and the gestures, far from comforting her, had beaten her core all the more badly.

As she had stared at him, she thought of the decisions Dyr had said she would have to make. Though Kiran had founded Tryailla, his heart had never been with the planet or the palace. It had been with his love and his Children. If it remained somehow in existence at all, it would be where they were wherever that may be. For this reason, thoughts upon the winds seemed fitting and so Ferra had said they should follow the practice of the pyres. She left the rest for Dyr to decide as it did not matter to her and she doubted it would have mattered to Kiran.

The entire populace stood grouped in the fields just as they had the day they celebrated their new home. They focused their attention upon a large conical pyre with several smaller copies around its perimeter. The morbid display had Kiran's body at the top of the central tower. The others who had been killed during the night raid rested upon the smaller pyres surrounding it. Each body had been given different adornments chosen by their loved ones. Some were covered with flowers, others with small trinkets such as decorated metals and crystals, others had their belongings of their life clutched in their stiff hands, and others still had been covered with furs and skins to hide their mangled bodies from view. Kiran had not been decorated with any such items. His body lay unadorned and in full view. Dyr had said she felt it was important not to hide his sacrifice and there had been little in the form of physical objects that seemed important enough to place with him.

The people had gathered in the fields around the base of the pyre while the remaining council members stood beneath the grand arch, overlooking the scene. Many had wanted to say something that would help them grieve. Dyr had made sure each of the dead had a tribute of thoughts given in words. The ritual gathering was so vast, that it was only the dead that would have heard these honours but the others stood in respectful silence nonetheless.

Listening to a mournful, wordless lament sung by one of the older female Children standing upon the palace steps, Ferra looked up to the sky. It was grey with cloud. It had been that way since Kiran died. Even the planet mourned him, crying upon the surface for the last several days. It was not crying now, though Ferra was unsure how long that would last. Such weather was unheard of here.

As she lowered her head to turn her attention back to the ceremony, she smiled weakly at Gringa who returned the forced gesture. Akym had remained upon Earth in case the Monkeys came under attack. Ferra looked at Dyr, who was watching the events intently. Igella was staring at the ground. Ashyina shot Ferra a tart glance.

Ashyina had arrived not long before the start of the ritual. Dyr had fetched her, as Lapidus had yet to return from his quest, and Ashyina arrived furious at the news that Lapidus was not still upon Tryailla. Ferra was quite sure that Ashyina had wanted to ask what was going on but there had been no time to discuss the matter. Obviously, Ashyina was still irritated by this. Ferra tried to ignore her. This moment was about Kiran.

The lament, which felt like musical tears running painfully and achingly down Ferra's body, finally came to a whispering end. Dyr nodded to a young man standing at the base of the stairs. He was holding a small drum under one arm. At least fifty others were flanking him with drums of various sizes of their own. Several of these people held sticks in their free hands. The young man nodded back and turned away to face the pyre.

With great force, he slapped the hide of his drum once. After a moment, he hit it again. There was another pause followed by several quick, irregular beats in a row. Another pause was followed by one last solo strike of his instrument. Then, as one, as though their thoughts had been shared and melded together, the others joined him. Some of the larger drums varied their beat from the smaller, but it was a controlled variation. It was a living rhythm of music that pulled one along.

Dyr gestured to the council members. She had explained how they would light the pyres together at this moment. They followed as she descended the long steps towards the drummers who were now already making their way through the large crowds to the pyres themselves.

As the drummers broke free of the crowd surrounding the pyres, they split into two columns, going in opposite directions to surround the pyres in a circle. They continued to drum as the five councilwomen, one from each race, took a place around the wooden base. When they were situated, Dyr nodded again to the young man who led the other drummers to a completion of their percussion.

Dyr raised both her hands above her in the air, calling for attention.

"Beloved Thinkers and Adored Children," she began with a voice that boomed beyond what her tiny frame would have indicated possible. "We honour today not just those who rest before our eyes at this moment, but all those who have had their thoughts ended by senseless acts: the Children and council members of Earth, the Hawks of Fa'ah, and now our own beloved Children and founder of home.

"Some were cut down without warning or respect. Others had fought to defend themselves and their kin. None should have died in the ways that have happened. Let today remind you what tragedy the loss of thought can be!

"Thinkers, you stay in our minds. Thinkers, you left us too soon. May thought bring you home again."

Upon the completion of Dyr's words, the remaining council raised their hands above them as Dyr still did. Together, they focused upon the vibrations of the wood and quickened them. The molecules raced faster and faster until the gathered sticks, twigs, and branches burst into flame causing all assembled near the structure to jump back from the heat.

The pyre burned for several hours. Many of those gathered gradually returned to the palace or wandered off to other more desirable places. A small group, the council members among them, remained in a circle around it, watching until there was little left but the charred remnants. Due to the efforts of the council, the fire had been so hot that little remained and anything that did was quickly being carried away by the winds.

The last stragglers began to disperse and Ferra decided to return to the palace. She had placed the twins in the care of some of the older Cat Children during the ritual. While they had attended, they had also been the first to retreat to the palace after the lighting of the pyre. Ferra had refused to seek them out in the crowd, knowing that seeing the twins at their father's death ritual would have sapped her of what little strength she still had. Now, she planned to find them and hug them as close to her as she could.

"Ferra!"

It was not unexpectedly that the irritated voice called her name, but in the hours of the burning, Ferra had hoped nonetheless. She turned to face Ashyina who was jogging to catch up to her.

"Yes?" she asked, wearily,

Ashyina looked only angrier at this. "You know what I want. Where is Lapidus and why was I not told that he has run off?"

Ferra let out a deep sigh that carried with it the weight of all her troubles of the last several years. "He knew you would worry and try to stop him. He made me promise not to tell you until you came asking where he was," she explained.

"And?" Ashyina asked impatiently. "Dyr hasn't told me anything!"

"That is because I told no one and I am the only one who knows," Ferra said simply. "Lapidus went to Earth to find Shinga."

"What?" Ashyina gasped. "How could you let him do that? She will kill him!"

Taking a deliberate breath, which was not nearly as calming as Ferra had hoped it would be, she replied, "Like most people, possibly including yourself, I cannot stop Lapidus from doing anything. He was determined. With recent events, I think he felt obligated to try and bring a peaceful end to it all."

To Ferra's surprise, Ashyina began sobbing uncontrollably. With little idea of what to do, she patted Ashyina gently on the shoulder before rubbing her back, hoping the touch would be soothing. After several minutes of this, she decided not to wait any longer for Ashyina to determine when to speak.

"He will come back," Ferra said soothingly, though she was not entirely convinced of that herself. "It is alright. It might take a while, possibly even months, as he has no idea where she is, but I am sure he will return smiling and eager to see you."

Ashyina cried harder. Ferra was now at a complete loss and stood awkwardly, waiting for Ashyina to do something – anything – else. It was not until Ferra was quite sure that Ashyina was drained entirely of tears and likely on the verge of severe dehydration, that Ashyina stopped sobbing long enough to take in several deep shuddering breaths and look at her through watery eyes.

"You don't understand," Ashyina whispered. "He doesn't know."

"Doesn't know what?" Ferra asked quickly. Her mind raced with horrifying possibilities that there was more to the gods and angels than even she knew.

Ashyina began to rock her upper body back and forth muttering over and over again to herself, "All my fault."

"What is all your fault?" Ferra pressed more firmly. "Tell me what is going on."

"I'm pregnant," Ashyina answered bluntly.

Ferra pulled back, stunned. Relief washed over her at the pleasantness of the news in comparison to what she had feared. Instantly, she rediscovered the compassion that her fear had momentarily pushed aside and pulled Ashyina into a hug.

"He doesn't know you're pregnant?" she confirmed and could feel Ashyina try to shake her head in the negative while it remained buried in her shoulder.

"He will come back," Ferra assured her plainly. "He will come back and he will be overjoyed to know he has the first child of his own to love." Ferra chuckled and then added teasingly, "Just watch, it will turn out to be the next body for Avorlig."

She felt Ashyina vibrate with her own silent chuckle. "I wouldn't be surprised if that old Hawk did that just to spite me," She replied, sounding much better.

"If you need any help until he returns, just ask me," Ferra offered kindly, with another reassuring squeeze.

"Thank you," Ashyina replied quietly as she pulled away and wiped at her eyes. "I am going to visit the other Wolves for a little while. They have lost so many of their brothers and sisters."

Ferra nodded in understanding and watched as Ashyina walked into the palace.

## Chapter 24

"They think I'm a monster!" Shinga yelled at Barjl, who had been pressuring her once again to make the attempt of contacting Akym. "He will take one look at me and teleport to who knows where."

Barjl paused in his task of forming his new blade. It had been several weeks since they had returned from Tryailla. He had taken his time replacing his old weapon despite the likely increase of danger because he had said the fight had shown him there were improvements to be made and he wanted to have them just right. As he put the final alterations upon his masterwork, a curved piece with a large solid hand guard and a ridged grip that fit his hand perfectly, he had irritatingly decided to bring up the issue for another countless time. Shinga had become quite sick of hearing it, mostly because she knew the others were right.

"Perhaps it is time we showed them that you are not a monster," he suggested, holding the blade up to the light to examine it for any imperfections. "Tell them what has really happened."

Shinga scoffed and threw her fang into the outside wall of their home. "Because telling the truth worked so well for me last time," she replied sardonically.

Letting out a frustrated sigh, Barjl countered, "And our outright attack was nearly catastrophic. Not to mention the fact that until we know what those stones do, " he pointed the end of his formed blade at the fang she was now prying out of the wall, "We cannot assume it would be wise to go after Ashyina."

Turning the fang over in her hands, she said quietly, "We know the stones could get rid of her once and for all."

Flabbergasted, Barjl set his blade upon the earth, stood, and walked to her, gripping her shoulders tightly so that it was difficult for her to avoid his eyes. "Do you even understand what that means?" he growled. "Do you even know what truly happened to Kiran? He died like a Child. Even we do not know what that truly means!"

She lifted her chin defiantly. "It means it will be over."

"For whom?" he growled again. "For Thought's sake, Shinga! I can't let her win. I can't bear to see what she has done to you and the others only to have you lose to her. Do you not understand?"

She stared blankly back at him, because she suddenly had a feeling this had little to do with Akym and yet she truly did not understand. It was in this confusion that he caught her so completely off guard. Pulling her into him with the firm grip he still had on her shoulders, he kissed her deeply and passionately.

Though it was not entirely unpleasant, Shinga wanted nothing more than to pull away but his grip was too firm. His skin was too rough and the physical intimacy brought the remnants of so many shattered emotions unwelcomingly back to the surface. Almost as quickly as he had started, he set her back, gave his head a quick shake and turned from her to leave.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "But for me, there is more at stake here than Ashyina's life." Even more quietly he added, "I won't let it happen again," before walking away.

From shock, Shinga's knees buckled, forcing her to plop onto her backside. She stared at the place Barjl had been last visible before he had disappeared into a thicket. Looking down at the fang that still rested in her hands, she felt a strong sense of loss.

It had been there since returning from Tryailla, part of her had been sure it was simply the trauma from what had happened. Such shock was only made worse by what Barjl had just done. He had made their present relationship more awkward and unintentionally dredged up her feelings of the past.

It had been so easy to kill Avorlig and those abominations he had recruited. It had been easy because she had been hardened by what they had done. Her anger and the fresh wounds, the daily ridicule and whispers, it had all fuelled her into frenzy. She had become another person entirely.

There had been remorse. There had even been regret, but it was not until the death of Kiran that she had truly felt like a murderer.

The stones seemed to vibrate through the silver, resonating with her loss and regret. Would it be this way when Ashyina died? Would the stones mourn with her? It was not until Barjl's kiss that Shinga realized why she was afraid to seek out Akym.

She did not fear for her life. She did not fear even for her own thought or those of the stones. She feared that she would somehow discover she was wrong, that whether Ashyina was responsible or not, it could have ended differently.

Barjl's kiss had reminded her of those well-travelled fields and the protection of their caves. It had brought back the memories of familiar scents and happiness. She had resorted to violence so quickly. These stones sung to her, making her feel more real, and she knew there was something special about them beside their obvious attributes. Yet, her first true use of them had immediately been in violence.

If anyone could figure out what these objects were, it would be Akym. Yet, knowing would also tell her where she failed. In her heart, she knew she had. In her heart, the stones sung to her that her ending did not have to be a sad and violent one. The hurt being inflicted upon all of their kind had to end and somehow she knew her tiny fang would be the way to do it.

With a newfound determination and hope, she clutched the fang more tightly and left for the Waterfall of the Monkeys.

* * *

Akym traversed the dense underbrush as he watched over several of the early adolescent Children. It was normally Gringa and some of the fully adult Children that would take them on explorations in search of new foods and ideas. He had never been one to enjoy the young ones as much as the others did. Since he had found the singing stones, there was something within him that seemed to have awakened to an appreciation for all around him. His curiosity and love of inventing had not diminished but now he saw the possibilities in everything and no longer regarded such social interactions as a hindrance to his work.

With Gringa attending Kiran's death ritual, he had decided there was no better time to escape the morbid monument of his cave. He had stood by the waterfall and loudly proclaimed that he would accompany anyone who wished to explore their jungle. It was the youngest of the transformed who had taken him up on this rare offer. His attitude change had not gone unnoticed.

The young boys and girls ran and jumped around, eager for a change of scenery. It had been a long time since they had explored so far from the waterfall. For a full year after Avorlig and Ventha's deaths and the murder of those Children, most of the Monkeys stayed resolutely close to home. Though the attacks upon Tryailla might have caused some to fear more for their safety, many of the Monkeys took the fact that Shinga had overlooked them as a positive sign.

They spent hours trekking through unknown jungle, seeing many unthinking animals in their travels. There were even some Monkey species that they had not before encountered. The longer the Thinkers had been upon Earth, the more they learned that the animals changed drastically over time. Their initial knowledge of the planet was challenged each time they explored an area they had not been for quite some time.

When they had come upon a river flanked by lush vegetation covered in berries and nuts, they stopped to relax their muscles and fill their stomachs. It was not until late afternoon that Akym ushered them all together to return home.

It was with great exhaustion and through a haze that Akym looked through the reddish hue of the sunlight of an aging day to see his home waterfall. The Children appeared as exhausted as he, trudging slowly along. They were likely in for a mellow evening around the fires.

As they came closer to the falls, Akym noticed a group of adults gathered around something. Then he noticed several others running to join the gathering. The oppressive exhaustion began to lift as his curiosity and adrenaline were awoken. He walked faster when he heard frantic commotion.

"What is going on?" he called when he was near enough for them to hear him.

Several of the people turned around to see him. No one answered, but as he approached, they parted to allow him passage to the oddity.

He recoiled and nearly jumped out of his skin at the appearance of the person lying on the ground. She had strange scaly feet, a long snake for a tail, and huge leathery wings that looked badly burnt. Her long blond hair was covered in blood and she had several gaping wounds across her body and her face that were quickly expelling her blood.

She was writhing in agony. Her pain was so great that she was barely coherent. Yet, through this, her eyes locked upon him and she gasped, "Akym! Help me!"

With this shock that she somehow knew who he was, he knelt down next to her. Taking her hand in his in an attempt at comfort, he asked, "Are you of the Dragons? What has happened to you?" He knew she was not a Dragon but his mind was having trouble processing the scene.

She simply looked at him imploringly. "Please!" She begged.

Looking at her naked and damaged body, he knew he needed to act quickly to take care of her wounds. He had never had to heal another but he would try to help. He slid his free arm beneath her back to help her upright. The moment his fingers touched her burnt wings, both of them disintegrated into a pile of ash.

The woman arched her body violently and screamed. Not wanting to hurt her further by dropping her back onto the ground, Akym fought his surprise and held her close. With the large wings no longer in his way, he lifted her into his arms. After telling the others to send Gringa once she had returned, he carried the battered creature to his cave.

With so many wounds, it was difficult to handle the woman's body gently enough not to cause her more pain and she took a sharp intake of breath as Akym set her down. Her entire body was bloody and it was now difficult to tell where the wounds were.

Immediately, he placed his hands upon the stone of the floor, moving and shaping the rock to form a bowl in his hand. He rushed to the waterfall and filled it with water. Kneeling back at her side, he used his hand to scoop the water out of the bowl and rub it along her skin. For a moment, he panicked. He did not really know what to do.

For a shape shifter, gashes and cuts were little problem as one just changed the shape of the form to remove them. Healing another who appeared unable to do this was entirely another matter. Many generations before, when shifting was more difficult and thinking Children still struggled to change, they had learned how to use the plants around them to aid in healing minor injuries and ailments. Such ministrations had not been used in a long time and would hardly be helpful for such serious wounds now.

Quickly, he forced himself to breath to clear his head. Panicking would lose more time than taking a moment to compose himself. As his thoughts began to regain coherency, he decided to treat her body no differently than he had the rock.

Placing both hands upon the long gash in her thigh, he closed his eyes and concentrated upon feeling her vibrations. They were chaotic and strange. Parts of her vibrated with an energy he had never before encountered while other parts felt like nothing more than a non-thinking animal. Forcing himself to focus upon the wounds themselves, he tried to guide the cells into reknitting themselves.

Though the constant fluctuation of her energies made his task extremely difficult, he became aware of some success when he realized the blood flow had slowed considerably. He was unable to heal the wound entirely but he switched to the next once he knew the flow was no longer serious. He had no time to be meticulous when there were still gaping holes spewing forth her life.

Her body continued to writhe with his efforts. Her pain had not ceased. Focusing even harder upon his task, he noticed nothing else until he had stopped the flow of blood from her face. She was muttering random words in her agony. Most of the words were meaningless to him, but when she said Kiran's name, he paused abruptly to listen.

She repeated Kiran's name several more times and seemed to be begging some unseen person for forgiveness and mercy. This pleading descended back into wordless seething and gasps as the pain seemed to be coming down upon her in another wave.

Akym's thoughts whirled around violently in his head but nothing comprehensible came from them. He remained crouching next to her, staring at her for a long time. Her wounds were nearly healed, and yet her pain had seemingly not lessened. Trying to find the cause, he reached out tentatively this time and placed a hand upon her to explore her essence once more.

The same chaotic roiling of energy was happening within her but with his focus free to ignore mortal wounds, he noticed several new things about the strange energy. The most shocking was that it reminded him of the singing stones. There was a familiarity to it though he would not say it lined up with any of the stones exactly. Only slightly less surprising but far less distressing was that this energy appeared to be leaving her. With each violent thrashing she gave, screaming out her torture, he felt more of it leave her.

Desperate to help, he reached out, trying to clutch onto an escaping strand and force it back into its place. It slipped through his mental fingers as though it was nothing more than vapour. He tried again and again with no success, refusing to give up and not knowing what would happen if he did but feeling quite sure that he did not want to know.

He had been continuing and failing with this task for some time when he heard foot falls near the entrance. The cave was dark now, for he had not dared to cease his work long enough to light a fire. Weary and depressed, he looked up to see Gringa, holding a torch in one hand and a large disk in the other. Her wide eyes were taking in the scene.

"She's dying," Akym said with certainty.

Gringa walked slowly around to the other side of the woman and knelt down, examining her the entire time. "The others said she had just appeared suddenly right before you arrived back," she explained. "She teleported to the spot you found her collapsed. They said she was a strange being..." Her significant pause came as she surveyed the reptilian feet and the limp snake protruding like a tail.

Akym spoke quietly, for the woman's gasps had quieted momentarily, "Whatever she is, I cannot seem to help her."

Slowly, Gringa held up the large disk with both hands and offered it to him. "The others said this was by her body."

Taking the offered object, Akym noticed it was deceptively heavy, like a dense stone. In the dim light, he saw a series of seemingly random lines within circles inscribed upon the surface. He ran his fingers along the defined edges, taking in nothing new as he examined it.

Gringa stood abruptly. "You keep trying anything you can think of to help her. I will get some supplies." Leaving her torch behind, she walked briskly from the cave.

Once she was gone, he tried to explore the disk as he had tried to do with the woman's body. A strong energy within it, resonating with a powerful force, slammed into his own, causing him to drop it. Terrified, he examined himself inside and out for any sign of harm. To his intense relief, there was none.

He placed the stone firmly away from both of them. His usual desire to experiment was held at bay by a newly emerged apprehension.

"Please."

He heard the soft whisper and turned back to his ward. Her pain seemed to have lessened and he was quite sure that was not a positive sign. She was still not fully aware of her surroundings.

"Kiran.... Tryailla..." she whispered again, her pleading returning, but she did not look at him. It was as though she were addressing the ceiling of the cave.

"Kiran is dead; his thought ended," he said factually but as kindly as he could.

The pained woman's eyes grew wide and she screamed. Far from the physically tortured yells of before, this outburst was a wailing that spoke of an emotional gutting. It quickly descended into wracking sobs that were only weakened by the poor woman's exhaustion. After several moments of shuddering and gasping, she whispered, "The twins?"

"Safe with their mother," Akym replied, though he was highly confused by this being's interest in Kiran and his family. However, his reply seemed to comfort her as a strained and weak smile formed on her lips.

Then she said, seemingly to herself, "Not their mother but safe."

As realization crashed down upon Akym about what she meant, his curiosity into her identity gained a new life.

"Who are you? Were you on Tryailla?" he asked quickly.

Still addressing the ceiling with foggy eyes, she began to chuckle but the gesture was cut short by her own physical weakness. "I am Tryailla."

At that moment, Gringa returned, her arms laden with several furs, kindling, and small bowls, the contents of which he could not identify from his position upon the floor.

"I figured her body would be too weak to keep her warm," Gringa explained as she set her burden upon the stone floor and began to cover the woman with the indicated furs.

As she did this, Akym took the kindling from her and used the still lit stick to set up a fire closer to the entrance so that it would help ward off any drafts that might try to gain entrance.

"I also brought some food for her," Gringa said, gesturing to the bowls. "I don't know if she will be able to eat it but thought it would be important to have in case you needed it. I crushed it down so she will not need to chew."

Akym took one of the bowls and peered down at the strange green paste. "What is it?" he said, turning up his nose.

Gringa shrugged and replied, "A combination of nuts, fruits, and leaves. It may not look appetizing but it will give her strength."

Turning to look at the woman who was still staring vaguely at the ceiling, he considered that such concerns were likely futile. As Gringa took a bowl filled with clean water, he was prompted to look at the bowl he had used and realized the liquid within looked more like diluted blood. Picking it up, he carried it to the wall of water and cleaned out the contents.

He felt as though he were working in a daze. The words that the woman − no Tryailla − had said confused him. Whatever this strange person had endured, he needed to know the meaning of her ramblings.

Turning around with the cleaned bowl, he saw Gringa using her fingers to scoop water onto Tryailla's lips. Gringa would have to know too. All the Monkeys would. Whatever they were about to learn, he knew without any doubt that if it involved Kiran and his family, it would likely be important to all of them.

"Gringa," he whispered as he made his way back to his kneeling spot next to Tryailla. She did not look up from her task but gave a whispered tone indicating she was listening so he continued, "Before you returned with the supplies, she was talking. It was as though she did not realize she was talking to me, like she thought she was talking to someone else or at the very least not totally aware of her surrounding reality."

His tone had grabbed Gringa's attention more thoroughly and she focused her eyes on his as she asked quietly, "What did she say?"

He swallowed. "She said that she is Tryailla," he replied and before Gringa could question him, he added, "It was when I asked her if she was on Tryailla that she said it. She was repeating Kiran's name over and over again and begging someone for forgiveness and mercy. And, she asked if the twins were ok... I believe she is their real mother."

Gringa looked down at the dying woman who was still staring vaguely at the ceiling. "She is the twins' mother? How?"

Akym shook his head. "I don't know but I want to try questioning her to learn more if we can. Will you help me?"

Apparently, he did not make such requests for help often, for Gringa looked quite stunned at first. After a moment, she nodded slowly and he turned his gaze back upon the one in their care.

"Tryailla," he whispered. Though she did not reply, he knew she had heard for she began to cry again. Few tears actually fell due to her increasingly weakened state. He would have given her more time if he felt they had it. As it was, he was not sure which breath would be her last so he pressed on.

"Tryailla," he whispered again.

To this she shook her head back and forth violently saying, "No," over and over again.

"It is alright," Gringa said soothingly. "You are safe here with us."

"Never safe," Tryailla said still shaking her head. "I am never safe from her."

Gringa and Akym exchanged worried looks. "Who?" Akym pressed gently.

Tryailla seemed to scoff but it was difficult to tell for it sent her into a fit of coughing. Once it had subsided, she began to cry again before saying, "Never the general again, only a mortal."

"What is a general?" Gringa asked Akym. He shrugged and shook his head indicating his own confusion.

"... Failed them," Tryailla muttered.

Though their efforts to glean information were becoming increasingly frustrating, Akym forced himself to remain calm. It would do no good to become agitated with someone who was not in a right enough mind to help herself.

"Who have you failed?" he asked, hoping this time they would get a clear answer.

"Everyone!" Her wailing began anew as she descended back into the pleading. "Please! Please, don't hurt them. Leave them alone. Please, kill me. KILL ME!"

Her body started to arch and whip around violently. It took the combined efforts of Gringa and Akym to push Tryailla back down. All the while, the woman begged for death, for mercy and, just as they had her nearly supine once more, for "Lilith's Grace." Akym and Gringa both pulled back at once and stared at each other.

"Lilith's Grace?" He wondered aloud. He had not been intending to direct a question but Tryailla had heard it and in her stupor treated it as one.

"She stripped me of her grace," Tryailla wailed. "My insolence! I deserve it." She panted heavily from the exertion the physical effort had taken then added more quietly, "Why was I so stupid to go against my God?"

Not knowing what a god was, Akym asked, "What is so wrong about that?"

At this question, Tryailla's vision seemed to clear somewhat, but as it did, her strength also seemed to disappear, causing her voice to drop to a croaky whisper as she turned to lock eyes with his.

"I am so sorry," she said.

This caught him completely off-guard and he sat simply stunned.

"Why are you sorry?" Gringa asked, causing Tryailla to give a miniscule jolt, as she only now seemed to realize they were not alone.

"You too Gringa?" Tryailla whispered woefully. "You should not know. Your knowledge makes you dangerous." She took a sharp intake of breath as though a renewed pain had stabbed at her. "Her Grace is leaving me and when it is completely gone, I will cease to exist," she explained. "I can feel there is very little left. I have no true energy; no true thought or will of my own to remain."

This did not make any sense to Akym. "If you have no thought or will of your own only what she gives you," he argued, "Then how could you have defied her?" Then he added as an afterthought, "Whoever she is."

"You know enough to be dangerous and yet still so little," she replied sadly before explaining, "I do not know how. I only know that once an angel's grace has been taken back by the god, she will die. It has always been."

"You don't know why you die?" He asked, unwilling to let the issue drop.

Tryailla took several breaths as if to regain some strength before attempting to speak once more. "The resonance of a God's Grace keeps our energies alive when they would not otherwise be. My wounds ...." She quickly reached up to touch the one on her face, which was now nothing more than an ugly red scar.

In explanation, Akym said, "I healed them to stop your bleeding. You would have died long ago if I had not."

She nodded in reply. "That is what the removal of grace does. Without it, our wounds would be fatal to us. With it, we can fight until the end of the Gods' War, doing their bidding, bringing them more power as we destroy other legions."

"I don't understand," Gringa interjected.

Tryailla turned her head slowly to look at her. "Kiran knew all of this and he died. It is likely the same will happen to you with this knowledge."

"Shinga killed Kiran," Gringa explained. "Are you telling me Shinga is involved?"

To Akym's surprise, this explanation of Kiran's death confused Tryailla. "What do you mean Shinga killed him? You mean she looked like her?"

Gringa nodded which caused Tryailla to ask another strange question. "Where was Kiran when he was killed?"

"On Tryailla of course," Gringa replied.

Tryailla shook her head again. "That is not possible. They don't know where Tryailla is."

"Gryp was with Shinga's band," Gringa explained. "He led them there."

This news made Tryailla shake her head again. "That is impossible."

"Why?" Akym asked, he was getting more confused by the minute and it was beginning to drive him a little crazy.

"It is not possible because if my protections have worked against the Gods, it would not matter who led them there, they would not be able to penetrate the barrier," she explained, not really clearing up any of the matters for them.

She seemed to sense their confusion. Taking a deep breath with difficulty, she helpfully went closer to the beginning. "I am an angel, a warrior of the gods, or, at least, I was. The god whose Grace I carried was Lilith. The gods have been fighting since long before the other angels and I were created to fight for them. When a god is defeated, the one responsible for his death gains his power and his legion of angels. This makes him stronger. Each of them wants to become the One God. I have always been in Lilith's legion, and for most of that time have been her general, the leader of her warriors in the battles."

Akym interrupted, "If a legion goes to another god upon defeat, does that mean Lilith's legion is undefeated?"

Tryailla nodded. "There are only a few Gods left. I do not know the exact number as it is difficult to follow the battles between the others."

"What are the gods fighting for?" Gringa asked, awed by all of this news.

"For all existence," Tryailla said simply as if she had just commented on the weather.

"They can't be able to win all existence," Akym argued, "When we were Thinkers in our own universe, we knew nothing about them."

"And that is the problem," Tryailla replied. "You have created a problem for them that they did not anticipate. When your kind came into this universe, it created upheaval and changed many things. For the first time, they are not fighting each other but watching all of you and what they have seen has made them uneasy."

"We saw no one when we first came here," Gringa replied in defiant disbelief.

"All the angels were recalled the moment you were detected," she explained. "This universe was created as a training ground for us. We practice our skills here before the real battles, which will determine the winning god. To be honest, the training and the battles are little different. Angels are killed equally frequently in the training. This is what we were doing when you arrived. Not knowing what you were, the gods recalled the legions until they could monitor you. And if you had hoped you had seen a god, you are underestimating them greatly."

"We have been here a very long time now," Akym explained. "Why have they not done anything to us? If they are so powerful, we are no match for them, especially in our current forms."

Tryailla nodded in agreement but said, "They do not fear most of you. To them, most of you are nothing. Some of your kind intrigue them with the promise they show. Those have been chosen to be tested. If you have noticed anyone disappearing quite randomly, that is why. Those who fail die in the testing; those who succeed are forced into the legions."

"That cannot be the only reason," Gringa said with a sharp intake of breath. Akym could see that her fists were clenched tightly in her lap.

"I don't believe it is," Tryailla replied. "There are two amongst your kind that we have been ordered to avoid at all costs. Under no circumstances were they to see us as angels though I have no idea why."

"Who?" Akym asked, his curiosity salivating, his fear needing to be placated.

"Shinga and Ashyina," she replied. "Though I am still unsure why. Upon Tryailla, I had met Ashyina and there did not seem to be anything remarkable about her, though she did not know who I was and I never revealed the truth of my identity to any but Kiran, Ferra, or Lapidus."

"They knew about all of this and they did not tell us?" Gringa's voice had gone up nearly a full octave.

Tryailla sighed. "I had warned them not to tell anyone. Kiran knew because I had tried to save him from being tested. I love him." She corrected herself, "I loved him and did not want him to be forced into the same servitude I had to endure. Ferra found out from Kiran and Lapidus knew because Lilith had chosen him for testing. He had passed the first two challenges quite easily but the others managed to escape to Tryailla before they took him again."

"But why didn't they tell everyone?" Gringa asked again.

"I told you: I had warned them not to," Tryailla said. When she saw that Gringa was about to have another outburst, she added, "Because the gods may not care about most of you, but it is their – I believe – fear of Shinga and Ashyina that makes them want to remain hidden. They are desperate to ensure that those two do not know anything about what is happening. If they learn that you know about them, they will either kill you immediately or force you into the legions. If you know, you are in danger. The more who know, the greater the danger. Even I cannot anticipate what the gods will do if they fear Shinga and Ashyina's knowledge is imminent."

"Why are they so afraid of Shinga and Ashyina?" Akym wondered aloud to himself. He saw nothing particularly special about either of them that could warrant such extreme fears by beings so powerful as these gods. Shinga was currently the most powerful Thinker but he doubted even her skills could challenge them.

There was silence for many moments before Tryailla finally asked, "You said Shinga killed Kiran." She seemed to be turning over possibilities in her own head as her eyes did not focus upon them or any one thing as she asked it.

Gringa nodded and explained, "Unlike Fa'ah, her band did not massacre everyone so easily. There was a struggle and they fled. Kiran was killed in the struggle."

Tryailla considered for many more moments before saying, "The massacre on Fa'ah was committed by angels sent by the gods. They took the form of Shinga's band to take advantage of your division and to help tease those of us on Tryailla out of hiding. They knew I was amongst them at this point and were trying to find me."

"If these gods are so powerful, how can they not find you?" Akym asked, quite stunned at such a simple flaw.

Shaking her head, Tryailla replied, "I do not fully know myself. Until recently, they have tried to hide this particular weakness from the angels. Being a general for so long, I began to notice Lilith's strange reactions and indications here and there and began to realize that she did not always know where each of us was. I did not share this with the others and did not use the knowledge until I approached Kiran. Once I left them entirely to hide upon Tryailla, the gods knew I had betrayed them. They also feared that it meant all of Tryailla knew the truth but as they had so little information, they dared not act outright but they are desperate to find it. That is how I know it could not have been them who killed Kiran."

She paused a moment. "Perhaps if Shinga has such power, she is a worthy threat after all. If only my work could have protected Kiran from his own kind. I never foresaw such an outcome." She cried silently and with the renewed, struggling tears, Gringa put her arm under Tryailla's head to lift it up enough to pour a slow trickle of water into her mouth.

"What work?" Akym asked quite suddenly, causing both women to look at him. "You said the gods cannot find Tryailla because of your work."

Tryailla nodded, "It was something I had never tried before. To be honest, I had doubted it had worked at all. I had trusted only upon the invisibility of an angel's energies to protect the planet at first, but I was unsure how long that would work. I knew that through that, it would remain hidden but it would not prevent it from being found if anyone knowing the location was guiding them. So I knew I had to devise another method to protect it.

"When Kiran and I became lovers, something I had never experienced before, our energies danced. The power of it was quite surprising and it did not take long to occur to me that perhaps I could use it. The night the twins were conceived, I tried to guide and shape the energies into a protective blanket that fell upon the entire planet and its inhabitants to act as a barrier preventing any who allied themselves with the gods to be unable to penetrate it. I had intended for it to continue protecting any who might leave Tryailla after that time but the massacre of Fa'ah proved it had not worked as I had hoped. To be entirely truthful, I was not sure it worked at all and was quite convinced I had failed entirely until the legions found me."

"I thought they couldn't find you," Akym commented.

"Not knowing where I am is far different from being unable to find me," she said through gritted teeth. Though she sounded angry, it did not appear to be directed at him. "My own stupidity let them catch me. I was careless and they nearly toppled over me."

"How did you escape?" Gringa whispered. Even in the golden firelight, he face was white with her stress.

Tryailla gestured to her battered form. "I didn't at first," she explained. "I was taken to Lilith and she tried to force me to tell her everything. I continued to defy her. When she realized she would be unable to force me to her will, she took my diane..."

"Your what?" Gringa asked, interrupting. With a new comprehension, she reached over to pick up the disk and held it up. "Do you mean this?"

Tryailla nodded. "It is an angel's greatest weapon; each one is unique to its owner. To put it simply, it strips an angel of her grace, and from our trials of your kind, it seems to have a similar affect upon your thought."

"Why does it kill some instantly and others it takes time," he said as he indicated her body but was referring mostly to what Igella had told them about the victims of Fa'ah.

"The user must be focused upon the task and cannot waiver until it is done. The greater the focus and the strength of intent, the faster it can be done but it still takes several moments. Lilith was interrupted. Something intruded upon her consciousness and she left me in the middle of her attempt. That is how I managed to escape her and come here. I did not dare return to Tryailla straight from her grasp.

"But I will die no less surely than I would have if she had completed her work but it will take much more time. Once the process is begun, it cannot be stopped. I do not mind death so long as the twins are protected. Especially with my death, Tryailla would not be safe any longer without the other workings I had performed, that miraculously seemed to have had some effect... even countered the flaw of Kiran naming the planet after me."

The trio remained in silence for many moments. The roar of the waterfall seemed muted and strangely distant, though the freshness of its smell was just as tantalizing as always. The fire flickered with a strong draft and Akym move to add fuel to it.

Tryailla sighed. "Names are such a complicated thing," she said. "Remember this: they hold a special power, almost like a link to the thing or person upon which it has been bestowed. If you give that name to something else, the link joins the two things of the same name. I am linked more thoroughly to the land of Tryailla than any other place or thing simply because of the shared name."

Akym shook his head in disbelief. "That seems all very strange and vague to me," he said. "It doesn't make any sense."

"Can you honestly not understand how it works?" she asked, making him feel slightly offended but before he could give a retort, she continued. "It is the resonance of a spoken or thought name. The name has its own vibrations, as does everything. By naming two things or people the same, you are linking their resonance. They have a common thread of energy running through them from that time forth. Their vibrations become similar."

Akym sat back on his heels and thought about her words for many moments. She kept talking about resonance and it tickled at his insides as if trying to awaken a sleeping thought. With a sudden realization, he jumped up and ran to the back wall of the cave. Ignoring Gringa's exasperated questions, he placed his hands upon the rock and shaped it to move the top layers away to reveal a cavity in which he had placed the singing stones. Gathering them, he ran back to Tryailla's side.

"These may be able to help," he said eagerly but as he held them up to show her what he had fetched, Tryailla pulled away from him, terrified.

"Get them away! Get them away!" She screamed. Quickly, she seemed to come back to herself, for her voice was calmer though her eyes remained frantic. "Where did you find those?" She demanded.

He was stunned. Unsure of what else to say, he replied, "It has felt more like they have found me. They have been showing up all over our territory."

"Those are the Stones of Ezamal," she said quietly, as she continued to eye them nervously. "The generals of all the legions were witnesses to their destruction. They should no longer exist! It is impossible."

"Perhaps they are different stones," Akym offered peaceably but Tryailla shook her head violently and looked into his eyes, stricken.

"Can you not hear their song?" she whispered. "They are the song of the end."

It was not her words that made Akym sit uncomfortably still but the fact that he could hear the song and that is why he had found them so intriguing.

She did not wait for him or Gringa to speak but said, "There is a prophecy about them:

"In the restraint of chaos, a striped feline be born

The unthinking Child, unthinking no more.

By wed of kin, all powers within will be leased upon her beau.

Survive to destroy, a great price to pay,

For us to be allowed home.

Blue planet of life, the tool for your end,

She will be given the keys to bend."

At these words, there was a strange scuffing noise at the cave entrance and all three looked to see what had caused it. With nothing obviously apparent, Gringa stood and walked to the entrance and looked around. Turning back, she shrugged and returned to her seat.

"What does the prophecy mean?" Akym asked, returning his attention to the conversation at hand.

"I don't fully know myself," Tryailla explained, "But I do know 'the keys to bend' are the stones. That is why they were destroyed, to prevent anyone bringing about the ultimate end, the end of all gods, angels, and Thinkers, of all existence."

"Who would ever make such a thing?" Akym wondered. The other two women remained in questioning silence, Gringa finally moving to offer Tryailla more water.

After swallowing, Tryailla added, "You cannot destroy them. Only a god can destroy them."

"They are obviously too dangerous to be kept around and I do not see myself volunteering my thought to the Gods," Akym replied slightly too tartly.

Tryailla nodded. "Then hide them if you must, at least until you can find a better way. There is too much the gods do not know. They will not act before they have learned enough to be sure of victory. They do not risk defeat lightly and that will give you time."

With a great effort, she reached out her hand to rest it upon her diane, stroking the markings with her fingers. "An angel no more," she whispered to herself, and then turned her eyes back to Gringa and Akym. "Please hide this as well. I am sure Lilith will try to find it. The dianes of the fallen are always reclaimed by the god unless they are defeated."

Though they had spoken for quite some time, Tryailla had kept up admirably, but now, as the conversation began to wane, her dying became more apparent. The pallor of her skin and the increased labour to her breathing all spoke of it. Her sudden gasps in pain had diminished in frequency and severity, which – far from being encouraging – made Akym quite sure that she had very little time left.

Gringa seemed to feel the same way. Looking up at him, her eyes were wet with unshed tears. Reaching across Tryailla's ailing body, he took Gringa's hand in his and squeezed it reassuringly. They stayed their together throughout the night and held each other in comfort until the early dawn when Tryailla's last breath left her body.

## Chapter 25

Shinga wheezed. She was down the hill from her earthen home. Her body struggled to recover from her pure shock. She bent over nearly double, placing her hands upon her knees to help keep from falling over.

She had arrived near the Monkeys' home right before the commotion, right before the strange woman appeared by the falls. She had put herself amongst dense foliage so that she could approach Akym in the safest way possible. From her hiding place, she had seen Akym carry the woman behind the falls.

There had been so many activities outside afterwards that she had to remain in her hiding place for several hours. When many of the people finally began to disperse for the night, she stretched her cramped and aching legs and made her way as quietly as possible towards the cave.

There had been muffled talking but the roaring water drowned out all intelligible words. It was not until she heard a woman shouting "Get them away!" that she dared to go to the very edge of the cave mouth to listen.

Whoever this woman was, she spoke of legions and generals. Though Shinga did not know what it meant, something stirred within her. It roiled with anger and a feeling very much akin to what she had felt at the injustice of her trial before the council. It was an emotion that could have led her happily into battle at Barjl's side, cackling the entire time as she cut down her enemy.

Then there was what the woman called a prophecy. She had said it was about the stones. A woman would be given them. Was it her? But she was not a striped feline. How could it be her? And yet they had come to her but who had given them? Who was the woman in the cave?

Shinga's surprise at what she had heard caused her to lose her balance, making noise in the process of regaining it. She was forced to teleport on the spot to avoid Gringa.

As the questions permeated her brain, threatening to destroy all other thoughts, she concentrated upon her breath. As it entered and left her lungs. When she was calm enough to have one coherent thought at a time, she looked down at the fang. If the stones helped bring about the end of everything, was that why Kiran died when she had used them?

With many more questions than she had had before seeking out Akym, she decided she must confide in her band. Forcing herself upright, she took several more measured breaths before returning to them.

* * *

Gryp was irritatingly jolted from his dozing when Shinga entered the hut calling to everyone. Trying his best to ignore her, he rolled over to face the wall. His firm sleeping mat of woven grasses made him think back longingly to the luxurious accommodations the Thinkers had devised upon Tryailla. There were soft cushions large enough even for his reverted form and he had always been able to find a place to sleep where he could be alone and undisturbed. He had rarely slept since coming to Shinga as it would mean having to sleep unprotected in the elements.

To his intense displeasure, he felt a kick to his backside accompanied by Barjl's voice. "You too, Dragon," he barked.

"It's Gryp," he snarled back but complied. He pulled himself up to sit facing the centre of the hut.

Barjl shrugged at the violent retort. Gryp had not expected him to care and watched the others grumpily as they finished taking human form, readying themselves for whatever important conversation Shinga wanted to have.

Fenda was already rebuilding the fire, which took no time in brightening the room. The strong scent of flint poked at his nostrils. Unlike many of the others, Fenda had not yet been able to light fires with her thought. However, she was so proficient with the flint that it did not take her much longer to complete the task and she would become fiercely defensive if anyone tried to help.

Feeling like he was being watched, Gryp looked up to see Barjl. His arms were crossed as he leaned against the opposite wall and glared at him. Given the unusual warmth of the evening, Barjl had chosen not to give himself a shirt and his large muscles flexed menacingly. Gryp made a deliberate and ostentatious turn of his head to indicate he was not impressed.

His efforts to prove his trustworthiness – or at least the image of it – may have been working with Shinga but Barjl would have separated his head from his shoulders long ago if it were not for her. Even with her, Barjl had been in such a sour mood the entire evening. Gryp would not be surprised if the brute attempted it anyway.

Once everyone was settled with their focus upon Shinga, who seemed too concerned to sit and instead paced the room, she began to tell them of her activities that evening. She had sought Akym. Though she had not spoken to him directly, she had learned much. Everyone sat in stunned silence.

Gryp's mind raced. He thought of Vanagandr's strong desire to get the stones and to avoid letting Shinga have them. Though Shinga did not fit the woman described in the relayed prophecy, the stones did. If they were indeed a tool to bring about the end of all existence, it would make sense why even the Gods appeared to fear them.

Gryp found himself eying Shinga's silver fang with increased covetousness. Whoever held such a weapon would likely be able to keep the gods at bay with the threat of using it. With this new information, stealing the stones for the gods seemed far less appealing than stealing them for himself.

What stopped him from snatching them from Shinga's grasp at that moment, aside from the sheer lunacy of such nerve given the odds, was Barjl's booming voice. "Akym has several of these stones as well?" he asked, concerned.

Shinga nodded and added, "I do not know how many. I couldn't see from where I stood, but I know he has more."

Barjl frowned. "We need to learn how many more. A group of us will return to the waterfall tomorrow to find out," he said.

After a brief hesitation, Shinga nodded in agreement.

"Who was this woman?" Arken asked suddenly.

Shinga shrugged. "I don't know," she explained. "She looked so strange, like a Dragon who had somehow catastrophically botched the shifting of her shape. She had wounds all over her body and her wings disintegrated when Akym touched them. I suppose it is possible she was a Dragon." Turning to Gryp, she described the woman's long hair and body and asked if he knew her.

The description chilled him because he was quite sure it was one of Vanagandr's ilk, especially given the woman's strange knowledge. There was no way he was going to confess this to Shinga and he felt it likely that it could cause problems for him if she was too suspicious about strange winged beings. With controlled calm, he looked right into her eyes and lied.

"I remember one of the Children fitting that description," he invented and for good measure added, "I believe Ventha was quite close to her before her disappearance."

Shinga looked sharply at Barjl, "She wasn't among those we fought on Tryailla, was she? I think I would have remembered her but her wounds did look like they had been made from a blade."

For many moments, Barjl considered her words before finally adding, "I do not remember her but there was so much going on. It is possible, but it has been quite a long time for someone to survive the wounds you described at the rate she was bleeding. It is more likely something else has happened to her since to cause those wounds, especially what you described of her wings."

Uri, who was sitting next to Gryp, fidgeted as though she wanted to speak. Although she had spoken those few words during their battle, she had been finding it difficult to fall into the habit of normal speech since their return. It still took much more effort than it should. Gryp was not the only one who noticed and as more heads turned to look at her, Shinga and Barjl seemed to realize what was going on.

Barjl walked over and knelt in front of her, softly placing his large hands upon her shoulders. "What is it, Uri?" He asked quietly, trying his best to peer into her eyes while her face was turned down.

"Perhaps it was Ashyina," she offered, barely above a whisper.

Only he, Barjl, and Shinga heard because they were already leaning so close to the young woman.

Shinga stood up straighter and considered. She had never heard of Thinkers attacking each other until Ashyina but she had turned it into a twisted and convoluted art form. As the others stared at her questioningly, she said, "Uri suspects the hand of Ashyina once more."

Barjl stood. "Does it matter?" he asked. "This woman is nothing to us and we already know that Ashyina is our problem." The others nodded in agreement.

For a few moments, Shinga considered. "I suppose it does not change anything," she replied. "Hopefully we will find out more when you go to Akym's," she said to Barjl. With a sigh, she added, "I suppose there is nothing else to do now but try to get back to sleep."

With this welcome suggestion, the group snuggled back into their spaces but Gryp was quite sure that no one slept.

* * *

Though Ashyina had often not thought fondly of Kiran during their time on Tryailla, she had respected him. Long before their lives were thrown into upheaval and their personal differences had emerged, they had even been friends. All the recent difficulties seemed somehow less jarring now that he was dead. She did not mourn for him in the same way she knew Ferra would. Nevertheless, his death served as another important reminder of what was at stake.

Lapidus' careless disappearance only further emphasized that she had to overcome Shinga before someone she would truly mourn was taken from her. Ashyina had thought she felt the rage of a mother after the deaths upon Earth. However, the threat to Lapidus and the first Children of her own flesh made her realize how petty her outrage had been in comparison to her new loathing and fear. Perhaps she would not have felt so imminently threatened if Lapidus had not been so entirely stupid to run off on his own. He obviously had not been paying attention to what had happened.

With all of this determination and angst, she spent the weeks following Kiran's death ritual working harder than ever upon invisibility. The task helped keep her calm. All the problems of their people had to give way to her concentration. During this forced focus, she finally made both the best and the worst discoveries.

Her first few attempts revealed that simply aligning her energies with basic things did not work. There was too much of her to fit into the resonance regardless of the size of the object. It had become apparent why no Thinker had ever tried changing into something inanimate like a rock. At some level, there had to be a similarity between the two energies, if only in terms of complexity. The rocks that surrounded her at this moment lacked that necessary component.

This caused her to consider the situation carefully. For more insight, she considered what she would accomplish if such alignment of energies did succeed. What would really happen if she managed to do it? This question made her realize she had been approaching it entirely wrong. Aligning her energies would not conceal her against the rock; it would make her the rock. She had spent a whole morning brooding over this realization of her own stupidity.

She considered being reflective but was reminded quickly of the distortions of water and was quite sure she would likely have to overcome the same problem. She tried changing the colour of her skin and clothes to match that of the rock next to her. While it did work, there were several problems that would be insurmountable. First, she would only be difficult and not necessarily impossible to see added to the fact that one would have to be looking from just the right angle for it to work. Second, she had to concentrate on changing her colours as she moved which took an extreme amount of focus and even then it was nearly impossible to keep up with the task to make it useful enough.

The best discovery came only two days after this camouflage attempt. The theoretical possibility came to her as she was trying to force one piece of wood in the fire between the gap of two others. She was purely a body constructed of particles, all with massive amounts of space between them at a small enough scale. The same could be said of the rock regardless of how hard it felt to the touch.

Dropping the wood she held, she ran to the nearest wall. She concentrated on the particles within both her hand and the wall. She wedged the particles of her hand amongst those of the rock. The particles of her hand could be dispersed only so much but it was enough for her to be standing with her hand appearing as though it were stuck in the rock completely. Unfortunately, it took great concentration to keep the rest of her whole with her hand so dispersed but she could feel the potential of the technique.

Immediately, she tried pushing farther and after several minutes, she was standing with her shoulder against the wall, her arm contained within it. She tried to push her shoulder in and the rest of her body, but she had only gotten to halfway through her shoulder blade and one lung before feeling extreme pain from her womb.

Frantically, she withdrew her arm from the rock, which was not nearly a fast enough process given what she had to do, and set herself down upon her knees, rubbing her swollen belly. The pain began to subside the moment she was out of the rock. Her mind raced over and over what had happened until she was quite sure she understood what may have caused the pain. It happened when one of her lungs had begun to dissipate.

Whatever she ultimately was, the three babies she had conceived while flesh were flesh and at this point in their development she knew they were nothing more. There had been times when mothers had claimed they could feel when the thought came to a baby and almost always the Children born after such claims were either reborn Thinkers or thinking Children. The timing of these events had almost never involved the same point in the pregnancy. Some mothers described this happening at the moment of conception; others not until they were labouring hard.

For Ashyina, she knew there was no thought in these beings yet. It was a moot point, however, for even if the Children had the thought of the most accomplished Thinker since they had taken bodies, they would be unable to assist her in what she had hoped to accomplish. For now, the vulnerable bodies were entirely separate from hers and entirely flesh. It would not be until they were born that she would be able to use the new technique. As the implications for this washed over her, so too did quiet sobs.

"Are you alright?"

The soft voice jolted her head up. Dyr was looking down at her. Wiping at her eyes, Ashyina tried to stand with difficulty, forcing Dyr to grab hold of her arm and help her the remainder of the way.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

Dyr shook her head as if she had asked a silly question. "We can talk about that in a minute. What is the matter with you?"

Ashyina explained the cause of her worries. When she had finished, Dyr said, "Lapidus will return happy and safe and you should be waiting until those babies are born before seeking out Shinga anyway." Her tone had finality to it and Ashyina lacked the strength to argue.

"You said you would explain why you are here?" Ashyina asked in a monotone voice that she hoped had not shown her irritation and exhaustion.

As always, Dyr was too understanding to take offense. "I have come to ask if you would like to have some company while you live here," she said. She looked at their surroundings, with her eyes wide and her lips pursed.

"Anyone who wishes to join me may do so," Ashyina offered. "But why would you want to come here, I thought you liked Tryailla?"

Dyr nodded, "I do. I definitely do but Ferra and I are concerned for you here all alone and once some of the others heard I was planning to come here, the idea seemed to spread." She was looking around again at the large dome within which they sat. "To be honest," she added, "I think the fact that this remains the only planet where our people have yet to be attacked holds some allure."

Staring at the fire, Ashyina replied quietly, "For the Wolves, that isn't the only reason. I talked with them after Kiran's death ritual. There are so few Wolves left, only fifty and only four of those Thinkers, though they are not very skilled. Lapidus and I are the only fully capable Thinkers left for them. They told me there are some feelings of abandonment since I left. They don't fit in with the Cats and there are so many of them upon Tryailla, especially now that there are only three races left. They say Ferra is no better than Kiran in considering their concerns."

Dyr considered these words for a moment, "I suppose you are right. It does feel a bit like the council has fallen apart but I always figured that was simply because of the devastation that has befallen so many of the members."

"You might be right," Ashyina conceded, "But that doesn't change how the Wolves feel."

"Well," Dyr began brightly, "Perhaps it is time we extended an invitation. The Dragons are in a similar state. It was the Dragons and Wolves that suffered the most losses during the last attack; it has left a bitter taste in their mouths."

"I thought the Dragons loved fighting?" Ashyina asked, confused.

Dyr shook her head, "They love brawling. Ever since the murders on Earth, their views of death have been altered. They fight for entertainment but not for death. Some of them are getting to be quite serious about what is and is not appropriate during a fight. It is strange to see really, though I must confess I quite like the change. I never much liked the risks."

After a pause, she added, "I think too that Gryp's betrayal has hurt them. I was ready to rip his head off myself when I saw him with those murderers. But the others, they have taken it as a personal insult to their own integrity. They are eager to distance themselves from anything that can be associated with Gryp. I think they feel shame for what happened and want their own new start."

Ashyina could understand their feelings. Regardless of how Tryailla had turned out for her and her Wolves, she had seen and even felt to some extent, the same feelings when they fled after Shinga's betrayal.

With this weighing heavily upon her mind, she said, "Return to Tryailla and tell them whoever wishes may come here." Gesturing at the pitch-black doorway she had made, she added, "Lapidus and I have made several rooms in anticipation of others joining us. They should be able to house everyone until we can expand the caves more comfortably."

Dyr nodded and stood. She looked at the fire, her feet, and then Ashyina's bump. Finally, she said, "Ferra is like Kiran. She is opposing this strongly. She cannot stop us from doing what we want but she has been quite disgruntled about it. Despite this, she did give me some good advice. To avoid what happened on Fa'ah, she suggested the people move in smaller groups over a few weeks rather than one large group at one time."

Ashyina nodded but countered, "I am quite sure Shinga would have come after her most desired target if she knew where to find me. I have spent much time here alone and entirely defenceless against an entire hoard. However, it could help ease some fears of all involved to do it that way."

"Did you want to come back with me for now?" Dyr offered.

Ashyina smiled but very much disliked the idea of returning to that place. "No thank you," she replied politely, "I will take what time I can to enjoy the remainder of my solitude before the others arrive."

Keeping her tone light, she knew Dyr did not take the comment as an insult. The two women said good-bye before Dyr left Ashyina alone with the crackling fire.

* * *

As Akym put the finishing touches upon the tree he had carved into the stone wall of the cave, he heard Gringa enter.

"Everyone is waiting," she said simply.

He nodded in reply, still concentrating upon the last few details of his work.

"What is this?" Gringa asked, stopping to stand beside him.

"If Lilith somehow knows Tryailla came here seeking help, she will come looking for the diane. I wanted to leave a message that may discourage her," he said simply.

Gringa was not satisfied. "How will a carving of a tree indicate anything to her?"

"It won't," he replied just as simply as before.

"You realize you are not making any sense, right?" she asked with a slightly mocking tone.

"The tree is a remembrance of us, having once made this our home," he explained. "It is to commemorate the Thinkers. Tryailla defied her god despite being convinced it was impossible for an angel to do so. As much as they have been told they have no free will, there are some who do. If all the Thinkers die, I still want something left to make the angels question their gods. I picked a tree because it seemed the most apt symbolism for our kind."

Pointing at the trunk he said, "This is what we were before we came here; one being." He pointed the five thickest branches spreading from the trunk, "These are the races we chose." With a sweep of his arm he indicated the canopy of leaves, "These are all of us."

Gringa stood in quiet awe at the symbolism. "It is beautiful," she whispered.

He grinned.

As her smile faded, she said, "But I still don't see what Lilith is supposed to get from this."

"She will likely get nothing from this. I am not finished yet," he said tartly.

As she stepped forward to examine his carving more closely, she asked what he planned to do.

"I am leaving a message," he said quite simply but, when Gringa looked as though she might hit him, he added, "Just give me a moment."

Placing both his hands upon the wall, he closed his eyes and took several breaths to calm his mind. When he was perfectly relaxed, he imagined pushing his intent and his thoughts through his hands into the wall. Though it felt extremely tiring and slightly painful, he was not sure it was working at first. Then he heard Gringa gasp. Taking this as an encouraging sign, he pushed harder. He felt as though a rush of warm air had swirled around him though not a single hair moved but his skin tingled from the phantom sensation. He continued until he felt as though the necessary intent had left his hands entirely and been absorbed into the wall. When he opened his eyes, he almost fell backwards.

The tree he had carved was shimmering like moving water reflecting the sun.

"What did you do?" Gringa whispered, completely aghast.

"I tried to put some of my own thoughts and intent into the rock," he explained. "Tryailla's efforts to protect those she loved made me think that maybe I could do the same thing. Thoughts are not so different from the energies of which she spoke."

"But what was your intent?" she asked just as quietly and just as stunned.

Watching the shimmering motion of the now glowing tree, he explained, "The intent was for this cave to remain hidden from all but loyal Thinkers or the Children of Thinkers. If that fails, I wanted any angels or enemy Thinkers who came here to know that the diane cannot be found. I was not entirely sure of a way to do that that would be comprehensible to Thinkers, angels, and gods, so I refrained from considering the method of communication just the importance that it must be communicated."

Looking at the tree, which was beginning to fade, he added, "I assume that if the energies can do that, they will somehow illustrate the point in the best way for the person present. Of course, I have never done this before not to mention the fact that I was just using my own intent and had no other input of energies to magnify it like Tryailla did. I suppose we will just have to hope we have witnessed a sign it was effective." He shrugged.

Gringa seemed uneasy. She turned to look him in the eyes. He had never noticed before how many lines she had upon her face. Had it been just since Tryailla? Or had he been too self-absorbed to notice?

"Do you think we are doing the right thing?" she asked with an uncharacteristic vulnerability.

That alone had caused him enough shock not to answer for several seconds. Finally, he said confidently, "Yes. I do. We cannot risk anyone learning that these stones still exist and so long as they are in our thoughts, the knowledge of them exists. Until we can find a way to destroy them without a god, we must hide."

She gave a great heaving sigh. "I suppose that we were forced to act like unthinking beasts for so long that a few more years will not be so bad."

His face was grim, "It may be more than a few years."

With a nod indicating her resignation, she said, "It will be hardest on the Children."

"It will be difficult on all of us," he replied before looking down at the gathered singing stones and Tryailla's diane that lay at his feet. "You said the others were waiting, we should go."

As he scooped up his burden, Gringa asked, "Why did you pick this island anyway?"

"They have lovely hot springs," he replied with a sly smile. "I figured that if I am forced to live like an unthinker for an indefinite period, I might as well find it relaxing."

The uncharacteristic joke made Gringa's stress break and she gave a hearty laugh as she walked from the cave.

He took one last look at his home, the lines that marked the fallen killed by Thinkers and angels, and the remnants of the fire he had so often lit during those late nights. He knew, no matter how much Gringa had tried to keep him hopeful, that he would never see this cavern again. With a stealing breath, he followed her from the cave, sealing the path as he went.

## Chapter 26

Lapidus awoke with a start. His eyes could not focus. His mind was equally foggy. The pain he felt throughout his entire body did not help matters. If only he could get rid of the searing light or even just move his aching muscles, he knew he would feel much better.

He tried to turn his body and adjust his dangling, aching limbs. Pain from the very centre of his body ripped through him, torturing him beyond any comprehension of endurance. He screamed.

Those tangible emotions washed over him again. She was not impressed by his screaming. As memory flooded back to him, he decided resolutely to ignore Lilith and forced his now rapidly clearing vision down to the source of his pain.

Just as Shinga's main victim had been, his body was impaled upon a pointed rockshaft standing alone in the middle of a grassy field very much like his old home upon Earth. There would be no way to get himself off. If it were possible, he knew that all the blood would rush from his body.

Lilith seemed entirely unconcerned with his plight. She sauntered up to him and even went so far as to rest one elbow upon his chest. It was his sheer determination to be defiant that prevented him from screaming out this time. Just when he thought his voice would betray him and escape anyway, he bit down hard upon his tongue.

Her mood had quickly become casually contemplative as if she were considering the differing aspects of a foreign culture to satisfy a flippant curiosity.

Still attempting to ignore her, he tried to figure out a way he could at least kill himself to escape.

Lilith placing her other elbow upon him so that she could rest her chin in her hands. She looked entirely bored. The grotesque and extreme situation eluded her sense of entertainment.

Lapidus decided he would need to endure the pain of moving to grasp the shaft. He hoped to lift his body the tiny amount necessary to allow the blood better flow. At least it would end. Before his fingers had even twitched an inch towards it, Lilith slapped him hard across the face.

His effort to die had insulted her again and she looked down upon him with fury at his defiance.

"If you want me so much, why are you killing me?" he screamed so forcefully that large wads of saliva flew with his words.

Wiping the spit from her face, Lilith was eerily calm and even gave him a smile but there was no warmth to it. Her true mood began to emerge. She did not like him asking questions and was now regarding him with a mixture of sympathy and frustrated anger, as if he were a young Child who did not know any better and would need to be taught.

There was that sense of entitlement again; entitlement that she, a God, not be defied or questioned by anyone. She wanted him to understand that her toys had no will and no thought of their own.

"Tryailla did!" he yelled.

Though he had known when he said it that it would be the wrong thing to say, he was beyond caring. However, it seemed very important to Lilith that he did care. Grabbing his jaw with one hand, she forced him to look her in the eyes. The force of her grip was so strong that her nails cut into his flesh and he would not have been surprised if she could rip his mandible clean off his face if she wanted. She blamed him and all Thinkers for Tryailla's betrayal, though she did not entirely view it as such. He could discern a concept of illness associated with the anger.

She then surveyed his face with such a peculiar expression that he was not sure if she planned to kill him, eat him, rape him, or all three. She nuzzled his ear as if she found their encounter erotic, but her emotions spoke entirely of laborious tasks caused by the loss of an important tool, he assumed Tryailla. There was also irritation and resignation at the task of replacement, which seemed to evoke further irritation at the concept of more loss.

Her lips were brushing against his ear and he could feel them curve into a smile. She had decided to taunt him. Without knowing how she did it, he was suddenly awash with all the gutting emotions that he had felt with the loss of his angel.

He clenched his jaw but forced himself not to react in any other way, which was quite difficult given the pain he was experiencing. Each emotion Lilith brought down upon him seemed an eternity. Each nuance took intense focus to understand.

Quite suddenly, Lilith pulled back to stand upright. Her demeanour was light and happy. She seemed to be remembering something she had promised. Waving a dismissive hand, she cheerily berated herself as if she had just been distracted and misplaced some mundane item.

In the next instant, Lapidus was standing next to her. The field and the rocky spikes were gone and only the familiar mist of his abduction surrounded them. Frantically, he examined his torso, feeling with his hands to confirm what his eyes absorbed. There was not a single drop of blood or the tiniest mark to show what he had just endured.

In reply to his frightened examination, Lilith gave an irritated sigh. She was tiring of his apparent stupidity, expecting more understanding from him of all people. Flicking her eyes from his head to his gut, she tried to impress her meaning upon him. Somehow, he understood. The mind and the flesh were separate. His torture had been in his mind.

As they stood in the middle of the mists, it began to dissipate just as it had when the three angels had fetched him for his test. The familiar trampled earth appeared beneath his feet and the volume of a roaring and screaming legion met his ears.

Lilith was happy and becoming increasingly excited by the display. She was apparently under the impression that the testing was somewhat of a treat to all involved.

Though they now stood upon a hill like he had the first time he had witnessed such a scene, it was not the only hill and the hordes below were not focused upon them. They were all watching, with boisterous cheers and shouts, two individuals fighting upon a second hill in the distance. Though Lapidus was too far away to see detail, he could see well enough to know the winged individual was a giant Hawk and not an angel. Unfortunately, he could also see that it was collapsed upon the ground, struggling to rise.

Watching the struggling Hawk, Lilith had an air of exhaustion and disappointment at lessons seemingly not yet learned. She had hoped for more and yet there was also an air of the low expectations of innocence being met and the confirmation of original assumptions.

Lapidus was looking at her with horror and disgust. "You are testing even the Children?"

She turned her head slightly to regard him unsympathetically. Expecting him to have understood much more easily, she was again frustrated and annoyed at the process of testing. It was not something she wanted because it led to too much loss but it was something she was forced to do because of the loss caused by the illness, the loss of her general. It was necessary so that she could again compete against the other gods.

"Competition? This is a game?" Lapidus' anger welled up and he felt his fingers twitch with the desire to strangle the woman standing before him.

She slapped him again, just as hard as she had before. If there were much more of this kind of treatment, she really would separate his head from his shoulders. The blow had been fuelled by more fury and impatience at his insolence.

Though he was tempted to give some retort, he chose this time to save his strength for when his defiance would be more effective. His lack of reply seemed to placate her and she turned her attention back to the battle. Almost immediately, she gave a quick flick of a finger to point to the current struggle.

She was amused and wholly satisfied that her low expectations had been met.

Lapidus whipped his head around just in time to see the ragged angel plunge its fully intact spear into the downed bird who gave a loud shriek that echoed loudly, piercing his ears. Several of the angels below covered their ears to block the sharp call.

Lilith was exasperated and tired. She felt she was enduring the same, repeated annoyances many times. Her lack of compassion, though far from surprising, was extremely distasteful.

Quite suddenly, she was excited again, nearly jumping up and down with her anticipation. She had been waiting for all her chores to be finished before indulging in the events that were now unfolding.

Lapidus was just about to ask her if that meant she had found Tryailla, his heart sinking so fast at the thought that he almost did not comprehend the large man who appeared upon the hill. As the shock of recognition hit him, he nearly forgot his own situation and began to take a step forward, intent on helping Horus survive.

She placed a hand upon his chest. Her touch was light but able to prevent him from moving nonetheless. Her emotions were eerily calm. With a hand, she indicated for him to watch. He was allowed nothing else.

"I cannot stand here and let you kill him so callously!" He protested.

Lilith turned to face him, eying him with interest. Silently, she raised a hand into the air and, though they had not been watching her and had given no indication that they had seen her, the cacophony of angels fell silent and the start of the duel remained frozen. She regarded him curiously. Any offer he could make, she did not want or need. All she wanted from him was the end to her search and then he would be useless to her.

"I will tell you nothing," he seethed.

Her expression did not change, but he felt a silent roiling of her energies. She did not like how he refused to submit and seemed to have come to the end of her patience for him to understand the situation. She knew confidently that there was nothing he could do.

Clenching his fists at his sides and staring at the ground, he said quietly through gritted teeth, "There must be something and I will find it."

Confused, she tried to understand him. There was the slightest hint of compassion for his plight but to her, it was strange that he would care. Such concern, no matter how miniscule, was so sudden that Lapidus looked up purely out of surprise.

"He is a friend, a brother, a Thinker. We all care for each other," he explained sincerely, desperately hoping that more could be evoked from her sliver of consideration.

She chortled, smugly recalling their conflicts. There was now an intrigue that tempered her anger at his defiance. She seemed to wonder how his concern for another could be so strong. It gave him enough conviction to continue ignoring her will. That sinister smile spread across her face once more. She wanted to explore this phenomenon further.

The next instant, Lapidus and Lilith were gone from the hilltop. They were surrounded by pitch-blackness though their own bodies appeared to be lit by an invisible strong sun. They were not alone.

Horus was with them but there was something wrong with him. His eyes were vacant, his arms hung limply. There was no sign of the man he had once been.

Excited, Lilith wanted to play a game.

* * *

Slowly and as silently as she could, Shinga wrapped her fingers around her fang and walked to the entrance of the earthen home. She took care to keep herself obscured in the shadows.

She looked at the still sleeping forms around her and tried to calm her breathing. Waking them up would likely cause more commotion than she wanted heard. As she peered around the corner to get a better look at the possible intruders, she realized with irritation what she already knew, it was a moonless night and too dark to see clearly.

"It's only us," Barjl called out to her.

With a cold wash of relief moving down her body, Shinga relaxed and lowered the fang, moving out from the doorway to greet the others of her band.

"I wasn't expecting to see you return until nearly morning," she said confused.

Barjl gave an annoyed grunt. "We wouldn't have if there had been anything to see," he said.

Shinga raised a brow. In the darkness, she was not sure if he could see it but he still elaborated upon the strange comment.

"The Monkeys are 'gone'," he explained. "All of them; every last Thinker and Child."

"What do you mean "gone"?" she asked in disbelief.

As he walked passed her towards the door, he said, "Exactly that. There is nothing left of them."

"That isn't entirely true," Arken called quietly from the rear of the group who were now trying to find their places for sleep.

Barjl gave an exaggerated scoff. "A bunch of lines, a carving of a tree, and a cryptic thought are hardly things to care about."

"I care about them if they are important," Shinga said. "What is Arken talking about?"

Barjl stopped, halfway through the door and turned to look at her. "It was just a bunch of random lines etched into the wall of that cave. We had a heck of a time getting in there. The only way was to revert and swim through the turbulent water. I swallowed a lung full of water and Fenda nearly drowned herself before getting through."

"You didn't take the path?" Overlooking such a simple option caught Shinga off guard; it was not like Barjl to miss anything let alone something so obvious.

"There wasn't one and the stone wouldn't change," he growled. "We couldn't teleport either. Like I said, the only way to get in was to revert." He sounded quite offended and angry at even the implication he had done something stupid.

Arken spoke up again, "There was also a large carving of a tree. It glowed when we approached it and at the same time we were all suddenly hit with a thought. All of us had the same thought with the same words and yet none of us knows what it means." Before Shinga could ask, he offered the words, "The death of Tryailla was witnessed here, the weapon that dealt the blow will never be found."

"The death of Tryailla?" Shinga whispered. "That doesn't make any sense at all." She thought of the mortally injured woman she had seen and wondered if that was the death of which it spoke. However, Tryailla was a place, one she had seen herself, and the death of it could hardly have been witnessed in that cave.

"Exactly," Barjl agreed emphatically, "Which is why I doubt it is anything important at all. Even if it were, even if it would solve all of our problems, we have no way of knowing with the Monkeys gone. They left and removed any trace that they had ever been there except for the cave."

"We need to return to Tryailla," Shinga said abruptly.

All present turned to look at her as if she had lost her thought.

"The thought mentioned Tryailla," she said. "It also mentioned the death of it. We need to verify that it still exists if we are to find Ashyina."

"Can I at least get some sleep before I have to fight off another hundred Wolves and Dragons?" Barjl asked wearily.

Shinga scrunched her nose at him. "Of course you can sleep," she said. "We will leave tomorrow and we are not coming back here until Ashyina has followed Kiran."

With this announcement, Barjl looked her in the eyes, as if trying to evaluate her words. He said nothing.

* * *

It was to find himself walking through the pitch-black forest that Gryp awoke. Confused he looked around. His Dragon legs were carrying him along without his will.

After they had returned from the Waterfall of the Monkeys, he, like the others, had collapsed. He was so exhausted that he had chosen to stay outside to allow himself the luxury to revert properly. It had only been a few heartbeats before he fell asleep.

Now that he was fully awake, and his body seemingly journeying without the volition or guidance of his thoughts, he knew who he would see when he finally stopped. Without the stones to offer, he did not much like the prospect, but he was once again unable to fight the impulse no matter how much he thought he should.

It was not long before Vanagandr, who glowed in the darkness, was sitting before him and demanding he explain himself. Gryp transformed to explain.

"It has been quite some time," the wolf complained. "With the stones so nearby, why has it taken you so long to retrieve them?"

Gryp swallowed hard before leaping into his defence. "It has been difficult, she keeps them close to her, and if I were to outright take them, the others would likely kill me."

"You have skill enough to escape," the wolf replied unconcerned.

"If I am to complete all the tasks you gave me, including watching Shinga, then I must stay in her favour. Stealing from her would hardly do that," he reasoned.

Again, the wolf seemed unconcerned. "Does she sleep at this moment?" He asked. "Can you not slip them away while the others are distracted? You do not try hard enough."

Gryp thought of how easily Barjl tended to wake at unfamiliar sounds and cringed inside at the thought of what the curved, formed blade would feel like slicing into his own neck. "I have been trying to gain their trust, so that I can take it without suspicion. Just tonight we were trying to learn about more of the stones..."

"What did you just say?" the wolf barked. "There are more of them?"

Gryp nodded slowly. "We were trying to steal them but the Monkeys who had them have disappeared only leaving behind some cryptic message about Tryailla dying and some kind of weapon."

Vanagandr's eyes went wide and he seemed to puff up at this news. "Tryailla is dead?" he asked in a growl.

Gryp nodded again.

"You have brought me important news with this," Vanagandr announced. "Though your incompetence otherwise quite makes up for it." The regret with which he referred to Gryp's minor success was a stinging blow. Inwardly, Gryp grumbled to himself.

"Thinker!" Vanagandr barked boldly, trying to regain Gryp's attention. "Shinga's favour is no longer important to you. The stones are more important. You will bring me Shinga's stones before sunrise or it is not her band you will need fear."

Without further announcement, Vanagandr was gone. Gryp looked up at the sky which was already a lighter blue indicating morning was not far behind. With another grumble, he teleported back to the shelter.

No one was stirring when he returned; all still within a deep, exhausted sleep. He tiptoed slowly through the large, furry forms, making his way to the silver body of Shinga. She was sleeping on her stomach, her paws forming a soft surface on which her head could rest. Between her paws and poking out from under her jaw was the shining fang. Slowly and silently, he leaned forward and reached out for the exposed tip.

The moment the flesh of his fingers came into contact with the metal, Shinga's eyes flew open. Within a heartbeat she was on her feet and growling at him but in that same heartbeat, he had gotten a stronger grip upon the object and was already turning to flee.

The disturbance woke several of the others. In the corner of his eye, Gryp could see Barjl already changing form.

Gryp did not stop. Just as he was at the door, he felt a great weight crash into his back. He crumpled to the ground.

From his awkward position, half on his side, he tried to slash with the fang as Shinga was already trying to rip out his throat. Although he did not make any contact with his awkward blows, he managed to scramble to his feet when Shinga pulled back just enough from his attempted assault.

All of her band was pouring outside; Barjl with his sword raised. As quickly as he could, Gryp tried to gather his thoughts to teleport. The strange energies of the stones within the fang acted like an anchor, keeping him where he was. Within a hair's width, he dodged what would have been a fatal blow by Barjl and ran as fast as he could into the forest.

Shinga and her band were upon his heels. A searing pain erupted from his left shoulder. Without slowing his pace, he looked down to see an obsidian point attached to a thin, wood shaft protruding from his chest. That would be Uri's work.

Knowing the stronger endurance of the Wolves would very quickly overtake him, the moment he saw a small clearing, he ran for it. As he broke free of the denser brush, he clutched the fang tightly and forced himself to revert faster than he had ever done before in his life, which proved quite painful with an arrow through his shoulder. With one great push of his massive legs, he jumped into the air and flapped his wings frantically.

He screamed as he was almost pulled back down and his leg erupted in excruciating pain. He looked down to see Barjl holding on to the leg clutching the fang and trying to hack it off with his blade.

The tips of Gryp's wings were brushing the treetops as he tried to overcome the extra weight. He kicked at Barjl with his free leg, which was difficult because Barjl was on the outside of the one he was still attempting to dismember. Gryp gave one giant, over-exaggerated flap of his wings, so that they came in close to his body. The large bone of one came into contact with the back of Barjl's head, cracking it against the same leg he was trying to attack. He fell to the earth, limp and unconscious, leaving Gryp free to escape into the sky. Dawn had come and all that remained was for the sun to peak over the horizon.

He heard the shouts of the others from below even as he quickly increased the distance between them. Another of Uri's arrows flew through the sky and sunk itself deep into a vulnerable and meaty part of his wing right where it attached to his body. She had managed to place it in a particularly dense nerve cluster. It was nearly impossible for him to keep flapping and he was not yet high enough to glide. He faltered and immediately began to lose altitude.

He knew from experience that his crashing into the trees would be the only thing to slow his progress at this point. Unfortunately that was quickly approaching. Pulling his wings in around him right before impact, he tried to protect himself from further injury as he fell through the foliage, breaking and uprooting trees. He slammed into the hard earth, skidding along it and creating a long dug out scar until his body finally stopped.

Although he was far enough from the others that they were not an imminent threat, he had no doubt they saw him fall, or at the very least heard it, and would now be rushing to find him. Forcing himself to endure the process of shifting once more, he called, "Vanagandr!"

Instantly, the wolf was standing above him, peering down into his face.

"Give me the stones," Vanagandr ordered.

"No," Gryp said fiercely. "Take me with you. When I am safe, you can have them."

Vanagandr gave a fierce growl. "I could kill you right now and take them," he snarled.

"You still want me to get the others," Gryp said confidently. "For whatever reason, your gods need me. When I am safe, you can have the stones."

The commotion of the approaching Wolves emerged in the distance, but not distant enough for Gryp's liking. He stared defiantly into the wolf's eyes. "Take me with you and I will give you these stones and find the others," he repeated firmly.

The wolf considered a moment, during which the sounds of the others continued to grow. Finally, reaching a conclusion, he placed a paw upon Gryp's uninjured shoulder and said, "Let the gods decide what to do with you."

The next moment, they were gone.

## Chapter 27

It was as dozens of Dragons, Wolves, and even the few remaining Hawks filed into the dome that Ashyina heard her name being called. The throng of people headed through the corridors to which she had only that morning added shafts to the surface for light. She looked around their moving masses to see Igella waving to her.

"Any problems?" Igella called.

Ashyina shook her head. "All as gone smoothly," she replied as she surveyed the crowd once more.

Everything was as calm as a mass migration could be. Though she had been willing to move the people in small groups as Ferra had asked, the people had insisted differently.

When Igella had arrived at her side, she said, "Some of the younger Wolves are nervous about coming. They insist that they will not use the vessels to come here unless you are guiding them."

Ashyina could not help but smile to herself. It felt nice to know there were still those who trusted her so completely. Her own torment had made such comforting feelings a rare occurrence. She nodded in agreement to Igella's relayed request and together the women returned to Tryailla.

The commotion upon this planet was no less than it was on the planet they had just left. With great difficulty, Ashyina and Igella pushed their way against the flow of bodies leaving the palace until they finally broke free into the Great Hall. Igella began walking towards the Hall of Earth when Ashyina placed a hand upon her shoulder to stop her.

Dyr and Ferra were speaking quietly to each other next to the large fireplace. It was impossible to hear them over the din but their faces were serious. Ashyina waved to them and bid Igella to follow her to the two ladies. Ferra and Dyr looked up with taut jaws and tense eyes.

When the women were all together, their focus upon each other seemed to quiet the cacophony around them. Ashyina asked what had happened.

"Ferra said she has something important to tell us," Dyr explained. "We were just having..." she paused uncomfortably before adding, "A difference of opinion."

"What do you have to tell us?" Ashyina asked, her distrust and irritation rising. Ferra was indeed beginning to remind her of Kiran just as Dyr had said.

Ferra fidgeted with her fingers, seeming to reconsider her earlier decision. She had the distinct look of someone who felt the entire world was falling apart around her. Ashyina could recognize it because she had felt that way so many times herself. However, her sympathy for the Cat was negligibly lived, for Ferra had hardly been sympathetic to Ashyina's own worries. Before Ferra could come to any conclusion, their conversation was interrupted by shouts and screams coming through the Grande Arch.

"What is going on?" Ferra called loudly.

An adolescent girl turned to yell back, "Shinga's band has returned. They are fighting with some of the Cats at the edge of the forest!"

All four women looked at each other terrified. Ashyina forced the shock away and ran for the entrance. She had nothing but her own fangs but she would not fail to rip out Shinga's throat.

* * *

Barjl gave a huge grunt as he threw a tiger off himself. "I told you this was a bad idea," he called over his shoulder to Shinga as he attempted to run the offending animal through.

"Who could have known there would be so many in the forest," she called back as she sliced open the belly of a tawny lion. "If only Gryp hadn't turned out to be a complete traitor," she grumbled loudly.

"I told you about that too," Barjl gloated without joy. "I would have thought you'd have learned to listen to me by now."

"You should have listened to me when I told you not to come!" Shinga retorted to his whining as she dodged the giant claws of a second lion.

After Gryp had disappeared, Shinga had insisted they leave for Tryailla as soon as possible to determine if the strange message of the Monkeys had any bearing upon the Tryailla she knew.

The others had complained. Barjl had outright objected, saying it was an insane notion to try such a thing, especially now that her fang had been stolen. However, Shinga was angry beyond all measure at having continually been made to feel like the plaything of others. It had to end. She had to do something!

She had told the others they could stay behind, even said she would prefer it that way. In truth, she would have. She knew that she would not leave the planet alive this time but the others seemed to have realized that too and insisted they accompany her. As a compromise, she agreed that they should hide in the woods, even lied and said they could leave once they had confirmed that nothing strange had happened on or to the planet. It was surely bad luck that they had teleported into the midst of several Cats who had been enjoying the shade of the trees. It only took the few seconds of recognition to hit them before they attacked Shinga's band.

Their current fight, though not beyond their ability to win, was trying enough that not a single member of her company had a moment long enough to escape.

Shinga swore at herself for having let the others come along. They would die in this place because she had a wanted to be reckless with her own life, because she was sick of doing differently when others were so cavalier with her feelings and family.

Suddenly shoulder-to-shoulder with her, Barjl punched another pouncing Cat in the face and knocked it out, stopping quite abruptly its intended attack upon her. He flicked his chin in the direction of the palace. "Make it quick and maybe we can still get out of here," he said.

Shinga gutted her next attacker, who had managed to graze its claws down her sword arm in their struggle, and looked where Barjl had indicated. She saw the unmistakable wolfish form of Ashyina sprinting towards her. Several other Wolves, Cats, and Dragons were close behind. Despite Barjl's optimism, Shinga knew they would not survive.

"Barjl!" She called to him, for he had been forced to move from her to deal with yet another foe. "Take the others and get out of here! I will deal with Ashyina and be right behind you."

He gave a booming laugh. "You can't lie to me Shinga and I am not leaving until I know you are safe."

"Stubborn Wolf!" she screamed as she downed another attacker.

He laughed in reply. "Let's see if we can make this a fairer fight," he said happily as he dropped to the ground, trying to dodge another attempted tackle, and took the opportunity to concentrate upon the earth.

Within a moment the ground was oscillating beneath them. A large mound moved out from them, gathering earth as it travelled. It looked like an earthen wave that grew taller and taller as it approached the hoard rushing towards them. The moment it had passed under Ashyina, it stopped instantly and grew into a giant wall. Shinga realized that it was not just ahead of her that Barjl had done this but in an entire circle around them. Until the others removed the obstruction, they would not have to worry about being overwhelmed. Few of the Cats remained within the bowl.

A deep voiced scream sounded out behind her and she whirled around to see Barjl writhing in agony as Arken attempted to kill the two Cats who had attacked him while he had been concentrating upon the ground.

"No! Barjl!" She screamed as she ran to help Arken.

Her blade flashed quickly and a moment later, the head of the Cat she had attacked rolled upon the ground, but to her horror, it still clutched Barjl's head within its mouth. She had been too late and she watched in tears as the golden light of his thought shot like a column of sunlight into the sky before it dissipated.

"Ashyina is nearly here," Arken called to her, having finished dealing with his own target. When Shinga did not move, he yelled angrily, "He will live again but you may not if you don't defeat her!"

Shinga looked up at the sky, ignoring Arken's urgency as she watched the last of the gold disappear. "I did love you!" she whispered. "If Ashyina doesn't destroy my thought, we will find each other again."

For a moment, she considered grabbing Barjl's blade to use as well. Somehow it did not seem right. She left it where it lay and dropped her own upon the churned up earth. She turned to face Ashyina, who was close enough that she could see the blood lust in her eyes.

Calmly, determined to meet death unafraid even it could be the final death, she changed into her silver form and charged.

The two dogs lunged at each other and collided hard in mid-air, falling to the ground in a snarling and snapping heap. Shinga had no time for thought, allowing the Wolf of her flesh to act upon instinct and adrenaline, snapping, kicking, and clawing at any body part she could reach. Ashyina did the same and it was not long before both their fur dripped with blood and both their ears were ringing with their fury and snarling.

Then it happened: Ashyina had lunged at Shinga's shoulder in just the wrong way. Taking the opportunity of Ashyina's exposed throat, Shinga turned her head to latch on with all her strength. Ashyina cried out as Shinga shook her head fiercely while still holding tightly to the furry bunch of flesh at her jugular. With all the strength in her legs, neck, and jaw, Shinga gave one last whip like motion to throw Ashyina the length of several Wolves' bodies.

Her bloodied form sailed through the air and came crashing down, remaining quite still for a moment. Shinga had not dared hoped it would be that easy and was already approaching fast when she saw her shift into the sprawled form of the woman she had once loved.

"Please," she wheezed.

Shinga slowed her approach. She saw that Ashyina had blood flowing from her mouth and throat. Another bite and she would be dead. Shinga lunged for the fatal attack but was brought up short by another pleading from Ashyina.

"Please, let me live," Ashyina said.

Why would Shinga want to let Ashyina live? Why would Ashyina ever think, after all that had happened, that Shinga would want to let her live? Ignoring the small battles her remaining band still fought, Shinga changed into a woman and knelt down next to Ashyina.

"Since when is a Thinker afraid of death?" she asked coldly. "Have you lost your thought?"

Ashyina moved a glistening red hand down to her torso, which Shinga only now noticed looked slightly more bulging than the last time they had met. "My babies, please," she begged.

This revelation stunned Shinga. She sat back on her heels and stared at Ashyina's swollen abdomen. Why had she even bothered to fight in such a state?

"Mercy," Ashyina begged in a whisper.

In truth, Shinga had very nearly decided against such an act just based upon her nemesis' state, but of all the things she could have said, this was the one thing that hardened Shinga's heart.

She clutched her fingers tightly around Ashyina's remaining uninjured neck tissue, leaned forward and whispered in her ear, "Were you not the one who taught me the face of mercy?" Then, after a pause intended purely to maximize Ashyina's fear, she added, "You gave me the gift of betrayal, hatred, and despair. Now, I return it to you."

Before Ashyina could say any more, Shinga wrenched with a strength fuelled by all-consuming rage and hatred, ripping out the rest of her throat. She had known she had succeeded when the familiar dark purple of Ashyina's thought left her body to follow Barjl's.

Knowing their battle was over until they found each other again, Shinga panted heavily from the exertion she had just been forced to endure. It had only been moments between Barjl building his barrier and Ashyina's death. The wall still stood but, by the renewed vibrations beneath her, she knew it would quickly be removed. She could still escape.

Arken called to her. She lifted her chin weakly and saw that the others had successfully killed their attackers though Uri and Bistell lay sprawled and unmoving. Regret stung her eyes.

"Get out of here!" she called back to Arken. "I'm coming right behind you," she lied when he hesitated.

The moment the others were gone, she stared back at Ashyina's body, looking at the bulge where three dead babies now lay. What had she done? How had the Thinkers been brought to this?

She was vaguely aware of the newly approaching hoard coming down upon her, the last remaining foe. She did not move. Perhaps her death would give her time to consider what she had become.

## Chapter 28

Jaw clenched, Lapidus watched as Lilith sauntered around Horus's body, examining him from head to toe as if he looked particularly appetizing.

She wondered if she could hurt Horus without Lapidus objecting.

Afraid of what she would do if he did not answer, Lapidus replied shortly, "No."

Feeling contemplative again, she wondered about harm to a Thinker, as if she was unsure what that meant.

Not knowing what he could say or even what she wanted to hear, he gritted his teeth as her tried to concoct something to satisfy her. She did not wait.

Stopping behind Horus' left shoulder, she looked at him questioningly before demonstrating her meaning by raking her nails so strongly down the man's arm that his skin was sliced open in long deep gashes. The blood flowed quickly and soon dripped from his fingers.

"Yes, that is harm!" Lapidus replied, still gritting his teeth.

Although she was mildly pleased that he was playing along, she still seemed confused as to why it was harm. She did not dwell long as she looked up at Horus' vacant eyes mischievously.

"What have you done to him?" Lapidus blurted.

Smiling slyly, she felt quite pleased to have broken one of the Thinkers to her will. She reached up and ran her fingers through Horus' hair, tenderly tucking a stray lock behind his ear. Loving what Horus had become, she scowled at Lapidus and his distinct lack of such obedience.

Lapidus refused to respond but this only made her give that horrible smile again. There was a threat to her expression; a dare for him to push her. Then there was a return of her wonder and confusion. Did he love his brother?

"You know I do," he replied, irritated.

She sighed, still unsure what that meant.

He eyed her suspiciously. "It means I do not want to see him harmed," he replied simply, not sure how else to put the emotion into words. It felt like they were caught in a logical loop.

With a great huff, her emotions changed rapidly. She understood harm but she did not understand why he felt as he did. Horus served no purpose for him. How could anything she did to Horus cause harm to him? She was angry and outraged. What made him feel as he did? Was it thought? Was it flesh?

Her emotions had turned into a powerful tornado of fury. He flinched beneath the strength of her demands. He wanted to hide.

She reached down between her legs. To his horror, she pushed her hand inside her body and withdrew with a yank, a bloody, mangled mess of a uterus and ovaries. They dangled from her hands. Perhaps it was simply the shock that prevented him from retching, for all he could think as she waved them at him was that he must be having the most twisted nightmare of his existence.

He shut his eyes. The slapping sound of drops of blood hitting an unseen stone floor tapped painfully in his ears. He could not escape into the fantasy that this was not real.

He knew what she wanted now. She wanted to know if love came from the flesh. Was it from a woman's flesh? Reaching over with her free hand, she grabbed Horus between the legs and pulled his reproductive organs from his body and waved them in a similar fashion. Horus did not move. Was it from a man's?

"I don't know!" Lapidus cried, just wanting desperately for her to stop the grotesque display.

The next moment, she was standing before him, entirely calm. The maimed organs were gone and Horus was fully intact once more. She was contemplative again, still trying to figure out this emotion he had but she somehow lacked. She felt loss at the death of an angel but not the loss he would feel if Horus died.

"I do not want to see him harmed because of how it would make him feel," Lapidus reasoned. "You do not want to see your angels harmed because it would reduce the strength of your army and what you want."

She considered for a moment, before feeling quite disgusted. Such emotional connection to others was sickening. Not only did she not like it for herself but hated the thought of it in others. Looking at his body, she regarded it as the source of sickness. There had been a hint of admiration for what the Thinkers had once been. Now there was nothing but her sense of superiority over what they had become. Her conclusion seemed to be that these new flaws were what made him so vulnerable to her.

She was back behind Horus' right shoulder and considering other possibilities for the allure of the flesh.

Instantly, Lapidus found himself pressed against Horus, his hands running up and down the man's body without his volition. His face moved closer until their lips were pressed together. At the same time, one of his hands cupped between Horus' legs. The violation was nearly too much to stand. Horus remained still and vacant, a lifeless shell, and Lapidus fought with his thoughts and his will only to have his own body betray him.

Lilith huffed impatiently. Disappointed, she had obviously expected him to comply more willingly with her desire for entertainment.

With a flippant wave of her hand, Lapidus was standing where he had started, now fully in control of his limbs again. Horus did not notice anything at all.

She was weary of playing not just with him but all Thinkers. A new determination to avoid past mistakes of others filled her. She felt now only joy at destroying another enemy.

Lapidus could not help himself. "What past mistakes? What other enemies?" he asked, genuinely curious.

Lilith gave a twisted smile before sauntering up to him. She stopped only when her cheek was pressed against his. He waited for her to explain, and finally she recalled the emotion of a harrowing time for the gods. Turning her face towards his, she pressed her lips gently against his earlobe and kissed it lovingly before hailing down upon him even greater fury at his audacity. He was unworthy of such knowledge.

His entire head remained ringing for several moments. As he watched her walk back to Horus, he rubbed his temporals, failing at relieving any pain.

Lilith was stern and pragmatic as she faced him again. She wanted answers. She wanted to know where Tryailla was.

"I have no idea," he replied defiantly and then added, "Has she still managed to elude you?" He felt a smug satisfaction until Lilith laughed triumphantly.

Thinking about her general, Lapidus noticed the subtle differences in her emotion when considering the place compared to the person. There was anger and hatred for both. For the person there was a diminishing loss and a self-congratulatory sense of victory.

"If you have already captured and killed her, why can you not find it?" he shot back, feeling somewhat amused though the feeling was tinged with bitterness.

Lilith did not reply but the churning colours of her eyes roiled more fiercely. With her strength and her power, she demanded answers.

"No!" Lapidus bellowed back with equal force. It seemed to come out of nowhere, as if it resonated with the power of thought not limited by flesh. In fact, the force behind his defiance caused Lilith to stumble back; she looking as surprised as he.

Regaining her composure quickly, she pulled herself up tall. He was proving useless. She did not want or need useless.

The next instant Horus was holding the two familiar angelic weapons and charging. Lapidus somehow was holding his own weapons. He easily dodged Horus' first attack. There was something slow and cumbersome about his friend's movements.

It was not like him. Nothing about what was happening felt right. He was not going to fight his friend, a person who had once ultimately been a part of his own consciousness. As Horus lunged again, Lapidus dodged, throwing down his weapons. Standing tall, he faced his brother.

"I love you too much to fight you, Horus," he said. Horus stopped abruptly but said and did nothing, his eyes still vacant.

Lilith was frantic, furious, and aghast. She wanted Lapidus dead.

Horus raised his spear and approached menacingly.

Lapidus chuckled to himself. "But I also love you too much to let her make you kill me."

Horus paused again and with this additional hesitation, Lapidus focused purely upon his thoughts. He ignored his breathing, he ignored any sensations upon his skin or within his body, he ignored it all purely to remember what it had been like to explore the universe unhindered and what true thought had felt like. A feeling ran through him that he could not ignore, a strong vibration that increased in intensity with each moment. He revelled in it. His thought revelled in it.

"Horus, we are the same being," he said with the power of his thought behind the words. "We are one being and we are beyond her."

Though Horus' eyes remained vacant, the weapons fell from his hands. Lapidus approached him. Surprised that Lilith did not try to intervene, he looked briefly towards her to see that she was cowering and that the darkness around them appeared to be giving way to another mist. He did not understand why but he knew at this moment it did not matter and ignored her to embrace Horus tightly.

"I know what it was we needed to learn," he said. "I know why these bodies are important. Our thought now knows how to feel. I love you, brother, come back to me."

Lapidus took the emotions he held and placed them upon his thoughts of love for his people, pushing them through his body into Horus. He realized that their individualism had been what led to how easily they were manipulated by the gods, for it made it easier to keep secrets and to feel comfortable in doing so. Though their separate identities were not the problem, deliberating cutting themselves off from one another very much was.

"Come back, brother. Her energies cannot hold you. She cannot understand them and she fears us because of that. You are stronger than she is," he whispered. "Please."

Horus' shoulders straightened and Lapidus pulled away too look into his alert, though somewhat confused, eyes.

"What is going on?" he asked quietly.

Lapidus looked at Lilith, who was still cowering. The mists around them were now nearly white, and the ground beneath their feet began to show patches of grass. He walked to the goddess and crouched down in front of her.

"That is why you get the angels to fight for you," Lapidus said, ignoring Horus' question for now. "Your emotion is too chaotic and fragile but that is how the weapons work, they destroy emotion. You had no idea what affect they would have upon thought. That is why you feared us when we came here. If they did not work, you couldn't defeat beings that lacked emotion."

Lilith was nearly in the foetal position, trying to scootch away from him.

"Your outbursts are an attempt to show your strength," he said calmly, continuing his approach. "But you have very little, that is why your army is so important to you and why you have no love available to give to others. If you had tried giving up the rest of yourself to your angels, to give your love to them instead of holding it close to yourself, you would know that brings more emotion and more strength, not less. Our thought tempers our emotion, keeping the erratic contained and strengthening the ordered."

Though she was still afraid of him, she gave an outburst of hatred and distrust of his words. There was also the glimpse of recognition. She had been told this before, long ago. She and the other gods fought the truth, fearing it would take their power from them. They overcame those who lied to them.

"I pity you," Lapidus said quietly. Standing, he turned to leave her.

A loud shriek came from behind him. Within a second, Horus was running towards him, his eyes wide. He tackled him to the ground just in time to avoid Lilith slamming the disk against his back.

With a scream of frustration, she summoned her angels and the next instant they were surrounded by her legion, poised to attack.

"We cannot defeat them all," Horus said grimly.

Lapidus nodded his head in agreement. All his revelations came to nothing. They were still outnumbered. The gods may lack true thought but the angels did not. His heart plummeted to his feet, taking his stomach with it.

Horus turned to him and placed each of his large hands upon Lapidus' cheeks. He was frowning. "There is only one way to escape this time," he said. "I'm sorry. I hope we see each other again."

Before Lapidus could protest, Horus broke his neck. His thought escaped the legions and the grasp of Lilith, but his friend's was at their mercy.

## Chapter 29

Ferra took a deep, steadying breath. It had taken all the horrific events of the last several months to make her realize this should have been done a long time ago. She had just finished telling Igella and Dyr the entire truth about Tryailla the angel, the gods, and even what that could mean for the twins.

The two women stared at her in stunned silence. A slight breeze ruffled her hair, and she closed her eyes, breathing in the strong scent of the flowers that grew in the gardens beneath the balcony.

Turgim gurgled. Opening her eyes, she looked down at the boy lying upon a fur on the floor. He was trying to poke his sister in the eye for another countless time. Ferra gently pushed his hand away and he turned his face up to hers, his violet eyes twinkling. She smiled.

It was the news that the Monkeys had disappeared entirely that had affected her most. It had broken the last remnants of her resolve to keep the secrets so vital to their survival. The words of the message "The death of Tryailla was witnessed here, the weapon that dealt the blow will never be found" had pierced her and woken her from her naiveté.

It was obvious, wherever they were, that the Monkeys knew the truth. She did not know if this knowledge had resulted in their decision to hide or if it had indeed led to their deaths but staying quiet had helped none of their race. She liked to think that somewhere, possibly still upon earth, the Monkeys lived safely. After all, there was no evidence they had ever lived there and she doubted the gods and angels would needlessly bother with such details.

With a sigh, she turned back to Igella and Dyr who appeared to be at a complete loss.

"Will you come back to Tryailla?" Ferra asked hopefully.

Igella shook her head. "From what you have said, even the protections upon Tryailla are precarious," she reasoned. "It seems that any efforts to care for the people have ended badly. You may consider this your home, Ferra, but it has far too many terrible memories for me. I need to leave. Despite this news, I am no longer afraid of leaving. It does not matter where we are; we live under the possibility of death. I refuse to live in fear anymore."

Nodding in agreement, Dyr added, "We have been on the new planet in large numbers for weeks now with no incident. For whatever reason, these gods either cannot find us or have decided to leave us alone for the time being. Either way, I agree with Igella. I refuse to live in fear."

Ferra looked at her hands clasped tightly in her lap. She had been afraid they would say that. "I don't agree," she said. "But I have nothing besides my own feelings to support such thoughts and I am determined to do what I feel is safest for the twins. They are too important to risk. That is also why I would like you to continue to propagate the lie that I am their mother."

"Of course," Igella replied.

"There is one more thing I wanted to ask you," Ferra added. "Do you think we should tell everyone else about this, Thinkers and Child alike?"

"No!" Dyr replied so adamantly that Igella and Ferra both gave a start. Seeing their surprise, she blushed. "Gryp betrayed all of us and, angels and gods or not, Shinga did horrible things to her own kind. I think they have taught us a miserable lesson, that we cannot blindly trust even our own people," she explained.

"What a depressing thought," Igella added dryly.

Ferra considered it. "Only depressing because we have unfortunately seen that it is true," she said. "We have changed much since taking bodies of flesh. It is time we accepted that not all those changes have been beneficial. It helps no one to ignore such a fact. But it is important that someone knows, especially about the truth of the twins. For now, the three of us do but somehow we will need to ensure that this knowledge can be passed on in case we die."

"Agreed," Igella and Dyr said at the same time, causing them to look at each other and laugh.

Mierna and Turgim seemed equally entertained, for they gave tiny giggles that warmed Ferra's heart.

## Epilogue

And so now you have been told how the Whispering War became silent, though it never disappeared.

How I survived the removal of Lilith's grace, I do not entirely understand. Though an angel I am no longer, my death was followed with the blessing of a grace far greater.

My Children lived and stayed hidden from the gods, as did all of Tryailla. To keep the power of the angelic blood pure, they mated with only each other. Each generation begot twins, always a boy and a girl. This continued until my greatest of grandchildren, the first immortals amongst the Children, were born. Perhaps they will live up to our hopes.

###

About the Author

Tara Kristen Young is a computing archaeologist who spends many of her days helping with the investigations of hunter-gatherer cemeteries in Russia and Japan. Other days are spent twisting her archaeological knowledge into new forms to create fantasy stories. Time not spent researching or writing is joyfully filled with the company of her daughter and husband.

Other Works by Tara K. Young

Shauna's Inheritance (a short story, available now at Smashwords)

Devil's Sacrifice (a short story, available now at Smashwords)

Gods' Masks, Book 1 of the Moirean Tapestry (available now at Smashwords)

Memory's Emissary, Book 3 of the Moirean Tapestry (coming Winter 2011/2012)

Connect with Tara Online

Twitter http://twitter.com/TYoungWrite#

Facebook http://www.facebook.com/pages/Tara-Kristen-Young/197334213614658

Website http://www.myriadmaia.com

