From below came the scuttle of Shadow Eaters. Rion thrust his sword and caught a beast broadside. He lifted Kara's body into his arms. With a heavy cord, he fashioned a sling and lashed her to his front, afraid to have her on his back, knowing he'd need both hands to haul them up this mountain.

Yanking on his rope to test its durability, he anchored it around his palm and elbow, hearing the scuffing sounds of Shadow Eaters getting closer. He had no idea how many there were, and couldn't wait around to find out. It was feeding time, and Shadow Eaters could be persistent as well as deadly.

He grunted, pulled himself onto the face of the wall. Oh.     

Surely this one girl wasn't worth all this effort. He pulled with hands already blistered and raw. Sweat poured into his eyes. Her dangling arms slapped against his back. He was being foolish and dangerous.

Another yank, slide, catch toes, haul himself upward. No choice, he gagged on slime. No choice. Must reach the top. Must.

A volley of toxic darts bounced off his boots. He could only hope they hadn't pierced his priceless treasure. Kara moaned, and Rion projected a healing balm into her pain. Muscles strained in agony, sweat ran down his face, toes and hands slipped, and regained. Another volley of darts; were they following him?

Rion crested the top, yanked his rope free and loosened the hurriedly devised sling. He slammed his goggles onto his eyes and swerved to see fifteen Shadow Eaters climbing the sides of the mountain at an alarming rate. He hefted Kara into his arms, fastening his sling once again to give him a free hand should the need arise, and then swept his other arm under her legs as he lifted her body against him. Their best choice for safety was a lotica room.

****

Korlon approached Kara's doors. Twelve-year-old Faherdin stepped out from behind a velvet curtain that had been tied to give Kara ease of travel.

Korlon eyed him in irritation, but he stopped to see what he needed. He tried not to let his impatience show. "Faherdin. Why are you haunting Kara's halls?"

Faherdin shrugged. "Came to watch the showdown. I want to be able to rib her."

Korlon faced the large wooden doors, blinking in annoyance. "You know her well?"

"Knew her well would be the operative words, Korlon. She is my Aunt."

Korlon faced the door, one hand on the knob. "If you know her so well, then you know how well she won't take being reprimanded."

Faherdin grinned in apology. "She got caught going after Jerrika alone?"

Anger coursed through Korlon and it was all he could do to hold back. "She has enough courage for all of us."

"Bravery isn't wisdom."

"Please leave us." Korlon ground out, implying that if he didn't, there would be a price to pay.

His ploy to see Kara had been thwarted, Faherdin shook his head as nonchalantly as he could and then slowly turned. As he thought, Korlon was eager to get inside that room. He stopped as the last of the carpet disappeared into an adjoining hallway and waited.

Korlon opened the door. Faherdin heard the gruff voice call her name, and a second later call it again. Finally, his yell was heard all over the royal wing of the fortress. "Dammit, Kara! Where are you?"

******

Rion used his knees to make an indentation in the soft white sand, this room had a much smaller pond, a larger span of beach, and a glowing patch of healing flowers. He collapsed beside Kara in exhaustion, removing the sling with shaking arms.

Rest. He just needed to rest.

He couldn't simply sleep. They were inside the mountain, they both had limits as to how long they could endure. He needed to test her blood. There was plenty of it. He fumbled for his belt pack where testing kits would be found. His arms trembled as he touched her blood to the test kit and registered that she had quite enough time left. He lay back, feeling his ribs creak.

Her injuries would need to be cared for. He reached for his gear, pulled off his heavier shirts and immersed his under armor in water from the lotica pond to wipe her bloody arms and legs.

Her uniform was torn. A fine line of cold perspiration beaded his upper lip and the back of his neck as he realized he would have to divest her of her clothing to care for her wounds. No amount of experience with a Granite Fears whore could have prepared him for the silken limbs and perfection of this royal searcher girl. He softly pulled the cowl from around her neck, marveling at its tough, yet extremely light material, as he laid it aside and repositioned her neck, pulling lotica sand and leaves to cushion her. He froze as he bent over her, her lavender tipped eyelashes fluttered.

"Galantyne." She whispered, and his heart rushed out to soothe her. Her eyes began a frantic search underneath the bruised lids.

The customary way to divest a woman of her clothing proved impossible.

He projected reassurance into the atmosphere while easing her head down to the pillow he'd amassed for her. Her neck was extended at an odd angle, and he knew it was broken. He ran a practiced hand down her arms, feeling the whip-corded muscle beneath skin so satiny it felt like molten cream.

Rion simply needed to heal her. The wounds were not immediately fatal and were in the realm of his healing ability. He ranged for more lotica leaves, started a small fire and gathered the accouterments to make poultices. He began softly pulling her rags from her and he covered her with his own outer clothing. So far, the racing of his heart had not changed from the frenzied climb out of the abyss.

Kara's healing was underway. Rion stared off into the depths of the pond. His breath came like fire. He glanced at her and then away. Had he not recently spent time pondering the why's of his life? Had he not in the very near past conjured traitorous ideas to do with this girl? And now, he had saved her from certain death. He was harboring her, healing her.

One hand plowed through lank hair and pulled hard at the ends. Forbidden! The Witch would sense his defection. Quildor would know and retaliate soon. With one arm folded across his bent knees, he peered at her under his armpit. Kara... Kara....

His hand rose to clutch at his heart. He willed that frantic tattoo to become a rationale he could deal with. In his mind a shield formed. He couldn't think about her with his mind on fire with being caught.

Everything about her drew him, made a difference, screamed genuine. Things he needed to continue.

"I need you, little one—you."

****

Crevan entered Adara's chambers with a wary step.

"Send him in." Her voice was brooding, not alight with her usual flare for the dramatic. He entered her sitting room, finding it dark, filled with strange furnishings.

"You called for me, lady?" He announced as the guards closed the doors behind him. Crevan's eyes went to the Witch directly.

"I called for you." He felt a queer prickling along his spine and stood his ground.

"What do you want?"

"My apology for interrupting your time, Crevan." She pretended that she didn't think her time was the most important time in the palace.

"I have a man down. I need to tend to him."

"Perhaps you need my help?"

"No." Crevan had a distinct distaste for her brand of help.

She sighed. "I had hoped we could meet under less strenuous terms, but I see the life of a Quarso Team Captain is demanding." She had decided to play the game on his terms, he was relieved. "Many years ago I was a Council Woman of the Tri-realms. I had a sister, her name was Nimiane. Ah! I see you recognize that name?"

"Nimiane Etrusia was Quildor's wife."

"Yes, she was once, but she wasn't his first choice of love."

Crevan's brows rose. "I thought all royal marriages were arranged back in those days."

"They were. I, myself, was betrothed to Archer Valdemar. I bore him a son, but I left him and the boy."

He cleared his throat. "We digress..."

"Ah yes. Quildor loved another Council Woman, her name was Ondrea Carrigah. She was young and beautiful and betrothed to Taan of Aquaria. She led Quildor on, she let him believe she loved him. But she didn't, and she married Taan."

Crevan was startled. "Quildor once loved Ondrea Taan? The war that ensued? Was it for her?"

Adara snorted in disdain and her nod was measured. "Quildor married my sister, Nimiane, and used her to get revenge on Ondrea and Taan."

Crevan rolled his eyes. "This was the cause of the war that exiled most of Etrusia to the land? A love triangle?"

"There is more, be patient, young man! Each Councilwoman was given a token. Ondrea's was a scepter. It had magical powers brought with it from earth, but in the transition from earth to Folara it gained power to destroy the materials the undersea domes are made of. These were otherwise virtually indestructible. Yes, I see you understand now! The scepter has power to destroy."

"Quildor wanted that scepter."

"Yes, and he used Nimiane to steal it from Ondrea. But she found that the scepter did not work for anybody but Ondrea. So she brought Ondrea to Quildor, she thought he would be happy to control her and the scepter. But he was still in love with Ondrea."

"So Nimiane killed her!"

"No."

"Then what?"

"She faked her death, and kept her alive, hoping to learn the secrets of the scepter and steal its powers. When Quildor found out that Ondrea was still alive he stole the scepter from Nimiane and would have exiled her but she fled to Taan on Aquaria. To this day she sits on the Council of Ladies, plotting her revenge."

"Why does this make any difference to me? So, Nimiane is still alive. Do you know what she plans?"

Adara chuckled. "I can contact Nimiane if I need to, but that is not why you are here! Ondrea is still held in the castle."

"She is alive? But the Aquarians believe she is dead. Surely Nimiane would have told Taan that his wife lives!" But even as he said it, Crevan realized that if Taan had known his wife was alive, he would have come after her. There would have been no end to the former war.

"Of course she lives, she is Quildor's prisoner, and I want her gone."

"Gone? As in dead?"

Adara swept her hands over her own trinket table. She ran one long nailed hand over his shoulder and chest, sharply. "You know the child you captured is the Princess, Kara, Taan's own daughter."

Crevan took her hand in his and squeezed it painfully. "I had no such thought."

"Of course you did, Crevan, you said you'd seen the royal mark."

"I said her eyes changed color in the lotica room inside the mountain, it could have been a trick of the lighting."

Adara sighed. "Believe me, the girl is Taan's daughter. She has the mark, and she has the powers of her mother. There is no doubt who she is."

"What do you mean she has the powers of her mother? Can she wield the scepter? Do you want to force her to work her magic?"

"Magic does not always work when forced, that is its beauty, and its curse. The rightful owner, or one of her blood must willingly use the scepter. In sixteen years I have not been able to break the curse of the scepter, nor have I been able to break Ondrea's silence. Quildor still loves her, and for this I hate him. He used my sister, and for sixteen years he has used me!"

"You would have me kill his lover, Ondrea. Then you would take the daughter and force her to your will. She will not be easily convinced I think!" He slapped his hand against the table. "No, this girl will not take kindly to being forced."

"I have a way to make her change her mind!"

"I would think that killing her mother would make her hate you. Perhaps if you tell her her mother is alive...."

Adara looked thoughtful. "Yes, that would be leverage, but I also know where the scepter is hidden. I can get it, and in the girl's hands, with her in my power, I can destroy the undersea domes!"

"And what good will that do you? Ruling them seems like more revenge than destroying them."

Adara seemed not to hear him, so lost in thought was she.

"What you ask is treason."

She leaned in to whisper in his ear. "Help me do this, and I will give you half of my kingdom when I take it from Quildor."

Crevan moved a step away. "You plan to kill Quildor as well?"

Adara's teeth gnashed in feral hatred. "As I will kill you if you do not help me."

"Do not threaten me, witch." He growled low in his throat, throwing her hands off him. "I will go to your master and disclose your plan."

"Will you?" She cackled and waved her hands in a circular motion in the air in front of her face chanting some kind of spell. Crevan backed away, intending to run, then in the air he saw an image appear. He looked closer. The image was dark and grayish, a deep well inside the mountain, and the walls of the cavern crawled with Shadow Eaters. In the center, Rion, leaning protectively over something, fighting them off.

"Tell Quildor about me, and I will tell him how your 'brother' has taken a searcher girl, not a simple liaison either, Crevan. Take a good look, this girl has wings. Do what I say or your brother will be tried and killed."

*****