The guards were as amused as her when they pulled up the mounts so they didn’t leave the street rat behind. She wasn’t sure if he’d ever ridden before, but the mule was placid enough for any tyro. He’d insisted on coming out of the city with her and she was starting to toy with the idea of offering him an apprenticeship. He wasn’t gifted, but there was more to healing than mental powers.

What had caught Jono’s attention was the spirit horses galloping and playing on the plains north of the city. The magical creatures were said to be the fallen mounts of wars of the past and they could go solid when they so choose but they were mercurial and not to be trusted. Sometimes they were present as great herds, sometimes only a few, sometimes none at all. Never had Sora passed through and had the scene be the same. Jono was absolutely fascinated by the ghostly shapes that flickered in and out as they danced through the grass.

Daisy, Sora’s equally placid mule decided this was a good opportunity to eat some of the dusty grass by the side of the roadway. The guard’s destriers were better behaved and just shifted restlessly in place. “I know it’s a fantastic sight, but we do have a time table,” she said to Jono gently.

The boy whipped his head around and gave her a shy and embarrassed smile. She smiled back, “I understand, they take me the same.” He just ducked his head further while the leader of her three guardsmen chuckled and clucked to his horse to get it moving once more. The mules fell back into the middle of the pack, Daisy munching on wisps of grass as they went. Sora supposed letting her mount eat with a bit in wasn’t particular good horsemanship but she was the one who’d be cleaning the tack.

The Rissiki village didn’t look much like anything of the sort, a few mounds with the large cat people lounging around and that was all most saw. Their elaborate dens were hidden by camouflage spells that would make the queen’s wizards jealous. They may have claws half a foot long, but that didn’t necessarily mean they liked battle and wanted it on their hearths. “Kasai Mesong,” Sora said as conversationally as she could. The felanoid’s language didn’t adapt well to the human throat no matter what breed of human tried to speak it.

One of the watchers rumbled a laugh and rolled off his mound to greet the party. “Good day to you Lady Life and her death brigade,” he gave a bow, tail flicking from side to side. “You bring a cub with you now?” He sniffed in Jono’s direction.

The mute boy stared at the Rissiki with wide-eyed fascination. While many races came to the city and even more lived in the wilds around, it was probably his first encounter with the race that had these lands first. They didn’t exactly come into town often.

“This is Jono, a possible apprentice.” She answered, the boy’s eyes flicked to her and then back. “He doesn’t have the gift of speech, but his hands have the gift of caring and life.”

That brought a rumbling purr of approval. “You are welcome in our den, Jono of possible apprenticeship,” the guard teased, “and your metal death troop know their welcome.”

Their welcome was about ’start trouble and we’ll feed you to the ground.’ Fortunately Baron pain in her butt had chosen her guards well and trouble had never surfaced.

Sora nudged Daisy forward and they rode into a shimmer curtain that then revealed the tents, dens, and buildings beyond. Without a welcome, you’d see a dusty road or your funeral from the wrong side. Jono seemed as fascinated by this magic as he had been by the horses.

They were soon greeted by the eldest of the village females, Kosi “It is too early for birthing season and we have not called, why you seek us?” she asked, licking her whiskers nervously. None of the females liked change from routine.

“War comes to these lands again, I wanted to offer the safety of walls and make sure you were prepared.” Sora answered simply.

Kosi’s tail lashed twice, “War always comes in the shadows of humans.” She softened her bristling, “But so does friendship. We are well Sora-Healer, and we thank you for your concern. Do you wish to join us for a meal?”

She was tempted, Kosi’s cooking was heavenly, but the suns were climbing through the sky and they had other communities to visit yet. “No, I wanted to check in on and you and introduce you to Jono. Will you take his scent?” She wanted somewhere for the boy to be safe and there were fewer safer places than the Rissiki dens.

Kosi’s tail stilled for a heartbeat and she approached the group. The equines shifted nervously, even Daisy was uneasy around what she considered a huge carnivore. She reached Jono’s side and took his palm and gave the startled human’s hand a long sniff. “You and your direct kin are welcome in our dens Jono human cub.”

Jono’s eyes sparkled and he touched palm to heart and gave her a fairly credible bow.

Kosi tsked and turned back to Sora, “That boy needs a mother, he will steal hearts of all who have birthed.”

Sora laughed, “If hearts are all he steals, I’ll consider him reformed.”

Jono looked offended by this but soon enough they were heading back out of the village and on to the next.

Jono’s brother came in while she was cleaning the thief’s hands of gravel. He’d fallen from a gutter and caught himself with his hands, really a strange reaction for a boy who lived by their condition.

Massus peered over her shoulder, “Will he be alright?”

“Few days and he’ll be right as rain and staying out of my windows.” She said with a smile. Mr Baron High and Mighty would probably have her reporting every thief and pick pocket to his guard, but really, was he about to tax the rich to feed the poor? Was he going to go catch every wayward father who impregnanted a night lady? She didn’t think so.

“Which, of course, means, he’ll be on guard duty here.” she added while she could see Massus figuring out how much it was going to cost him to feed his younger brother. The deal Sora had with her street friends was they got free care, food and roof, in exchange for keeping her from thieves, gangs and bullies. They’d formed the watch all on their own. Her home, ward and yard were neutral ground and anyone treating it other wise would find themselves without a healer.

Massus gave her a smile while Jono practically bounced in spot. He much preferred cooking for her than his brother. Sora wasn’t quite sure why, cooking for her meant feeding every one of her patients and not all walked on two feet. The mute boy suddenly hugged her and scrambled down from the counter he’d been sitting on to skip off to her small cottage.

“Ever feel like his world is a much nicer place than your’s or I’s?” Sora asked absently.

Massus shook his head, “I know it is.” He looked down at Sora, “What did his highness want?”

“Treatment, same as everyone else.” Sora answered, busying herself with tidying and cleaning.

Massus made a noise of disgust, “No, he wants you as a prize and knows the only way the Pissini of the city won’t storm the castle is if you choose him. Though, Ma swears she senses love off him.”

“Love of power, maybe.” Sora grumbled and then sighed, “I do him a disservice. No, love of his people and his realm. If I were to marry him it would unite my father’s people and my mother’s people more symbollicly than their marriage. Father wasn’t heir when he married Mother, and by the time he would have been, Keros held the seat.”

Massus, a boy five years her junior gave her a look of sympathy, “Don’t you wish you could have just been born in an alley half-starving like the rest of us?”

sora barked laughter and smacked him upside the back of the head, “I happen to know Lorist delievered you in the kitchens, don’t try that alleyway line with me.” She tied up her healer’s sack, “Now, go help your bother clean roots and you can eat with us.”

Massus bounced up and down on his heels, “You’re the best, Sora!” and scrambled off the way his brother had gone.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re still doing dishes after too!” she called after him. Another reason not to marry would be she would lose her stipend from the Queen as part of the conquering. Or was she an empress these days?

Sora looked across her waist high border walls to where the larger twin of the suns was setting behind the castle. She did miss not having to do her own cleaning and animal care, but she certainly didn’t miss the restrictions on every part of her life. She suddenly grinned visciously, Baron Broom up the Butt was going to have a fit when he got her request for guards to do her sweep of the villages. He was the one who had insisted on them in the first place, she’d go with or without them, and with trouble brewing she wanted to make sure the villagers and farmers knew what to take into town in case of siege.

She wasn’t surprised when she stepped into her cottage to find Lorist studiously wittling something. She had a collection of strange carvings from the ex-Healer on her mantle. She just gave him a kiss on the cheek and went to make sure the boys weren’t about to burn down her cottage.

Coming back she found him with nib knife against the wood, but it wasn’t moving. “So, what was this afternoon about?”

He shook his head and looked down to the table.

Lorist hadn’t been the same since the Kacasi had captured him. Something in his mind had broken, his gifts had tripled in strength, but he was strange. Sora didn’t know where he spent most of his days and nights, but she was always happy to see the man who had trained her in her own gifts. “I wish I could make you two.” Lorist said finally.

She raised an eyebrow, “Two of what?”

“One a noble of the pissini line, one a farmer’s daughter of the drassen line who is a healer. One to marry the baron and unite our peoples in the darkness that comes and one to carry on your duties.” He sighed and dropped the wood onto the table and drew idle lines in the shavings.

“What do you see?” she asked, brows furrowed and concern causing her to lean forward.

“I see an army that covers the horizon, I see drakes ready for war, and I see a traitor from within that can be prevented by unification.” He picked up the wood again and went back to his carving. “And I see dinner being scorched if two brothers do not stop arguing.”

“That’s okay, I had Lissa drop off bread this morning, we won’t starve.” She reassured him, patting his form arm.

He smiled, “well, there’s that then.”

He’d stopped sending messengers when she’d started paying them to go back up to the castle on the hill and say the message had been delievered and she’d shown them a good time beside. He may be a stubborn son of a goat, but he did eventually learn. So it was with both surprise and a sense of inevitavbility when she turned to see him darkening the barn that served as her ward. Sora pursed her lips and pushed past him out into the sunshine. His Chief of Guard was still Rasak Torren who was looking rather embarassed. Poor man, always got stuck in the middle of their greater arguments.

“Baron Keros, to what do I owe this unexpected and unwanted visit?” Sora asked, trying to resist the urge to pat blonde hair back into its braid.

He had the eyes of the bluest sky, that color of when the sun is behind a small puffy white cloud and the rest of the sky is a perfect and clear blue. They were framed by dark raven lashes and even as he towered over her, she could see them narrow in irritation. She wasn’t quite sure why he bothered. “I have need of a healer.” He replied dryly. “Why else would I come to your ward?”

“To drive me to drinking. Obviously you’ve invested in cartage recently and wish the bessini usage to rise.” Sora replied and gestured with her head for him to follow her to the small office that had been built in the barn. A few shadows lurked beyond her stone walls. The urchins and teens of the neighborhood kept an eye on her, but she didn’t think they’d challenge the baron and his men. Or at least, she hoped they wouldn’t.

“Sit.” She pointed at a chair large enough to hold his drassen frame. The mountain people only came in two sizes, large and larger. Her mother may have been drassen, but she took after her perrisi father, small and petite. Her mother had always defended the size difference with a shake of her head, a smile and “Love, you know.”

She didn’t scent the blood until he removed his outer breastplate. He was in his hunter leathers and pealed them off with no help from her or squire. Really, if anyone wanted to kill the Baron they’d just have to convince her to do it, he rarely protected himself around her. Thoughts of irritation disappeared when she saw the ragged slash across his chest. It had started oozing blood again when he’d removed his gear. Sora let out a hiss of surprise. Such a cut under the armour? She grabbed the disinfectant and sewing gear. “Angered the wrong lady of the night?” she asked, distracting from the expanse of chest. It would be rather poor form if she tried to entwine her fingers in that forest of hair and to feel the muscles of his chest twitch and flex under her hands. Though, it would probably make him seven shades of happy.

“Hardly,” he replied, staring off over her shoulder as she applied disinfectant. “We were attacked at our camp last night.”

She stopped in threading of the needle. “And there were no other healers between here and there?” She asked with a sigh and shake of her head.

“None that I trusted to see the wound.” He replied.

Well, she was still officially the court’s healer if only because he refused to replace her. That had a whole set of oaths ontop of the standard. She leaned forward to study the wound to make sure it didn’t need cleaning though she was fairly sure he would already have attended it. “Holy hell.” she muttered.

“Exactly.” He replied, with some smugness.

The wound revealed the waved and jagged knife it had been made by, the signature of the black hand clan. A group of high priced assassins no matter what they tried to call themselves. “Well, someone definitely wants rid of you.”

“Someone other than yourself,” He said wryly, tilting his head to one side.

She took some satisfaction sticking the needle into his flesh and listening to him suppress a hiss as he tried not to jerk. “I don’t want you dead.” She replied honestly. “Just to leave me alone.”

“No, you don’t.” He replied through gritted teeth.

True, she wanted him in her bedroom and under her and they both knew it. Too many mind talents to deny it, but she also didn’t want to marry him or be his pet court healer or his mistress or anything else that went with his castle and cirlet. She had way too much to do down in the city.

She tried to ignore where her hand held the wound closed as she stitched it up. Other than a twitch when she inserted the needle each time he was a statue. She wished all her patients were as stoic and well behaved.

When finished she straightened and cleared away her gear. He was still sitting in the chair when she finished. She made an irritated noise in the back of her throat. He grinned, the brat, as he stood, stepping easily and comfortably into her personal space. “Come back with me,” he urged, starting to wrap arms around her.

She was taking a step back, readying the standard argument that always happened at this point, when she felt a familar mind brush her’s. “Lorist!” she cried, and shoved pasted Keros and ran out into the yard.

He was still taller than tall, but his muscular build had shrunk into wireyness over the years. His thick hair had thinned and turned silver. His eyes were still two chunks of obsidian. “I thought I sensed him,”

The Baron’s guard were turning in shock and surprise, not knowing how the seemingly old man had gotten past them.

She didn’t quite pounce of Lorist, even though he was probably still strong enough to toss her around one handed. She did however wrap her arms around him and shared a burst of happiness to see him.

His echo was one of concern and worry. He returned the hug with distraction, but he did everything with distraction these days. She could feel him looking over her shoulder to where Keros would have come from. She could still feel Lorist’s anger and distrust, his confusion and his fear. “You should go with him,” Lorist said.

Sora was so startled she let go when she jerked back to look up at her old teacher’s face. “What?” She and the Baron said in the same shocked voice.

“War comes. You should be safe.” He said, and turned.

Sora tried to grab his hand to prevent him from leaving, but he was already smoke and leaving on the winds. “I hate it when he does that!” she growled and turned to look at the stunned baron. “And no, I’m not going with you.”

He actually growled before answering, “I expect nothing less. Why would you let a warrior protect you? Why would you hide behind walls of steel and brick? Why would you keep yourself safe when you can be in the worst slum in the city courting death by a thousand different methods!”

“I don’t need protecting!” She growled back. His idea of protecting was sitting in a solar somewhere doing needlework. “My patients here need me.” She added, attempting to reign in her temper.

He strode to her, placing hand under chin and catching it before she could jerk away, “I need you too.” He said firmly.

“As a political play, yes.” She glared up at him, daring herself not to cry. She may lust for him, but he was ice. She had once dreamed of more, but dreams tended to crumble to dust.

He shrugged one shoulder and let go of her, “I wish to protect every single being within my realm and responsibility. I did not realize that was a bad thing.”

“It’s not when you’re playing with game pieces and not people.” she replied to his back, he was turning to return to his men and horses.

He smiled over his shoulder, “Ah, but I’m not allowed to play with you. You make your own rules, remember?”

She stood and steamed as she watched the stubborn son of a goat return to his men. He easily mounted the horse that she’d have needed a ladder to climb. She turned and strode back to her ward, no interest in watching the noble party depart.

Sora did wonder if he’d left enough of the assassin to go back to its clan and exclaim why the target was hale enough to ride a horse. Knowing the baron, however, the assassin had probably only scored on him when it had a knife through its throat.

Tisa pounded down the pavement, rain plastering her dyed forest green hair to her scalp. She ducked into the alley that would take her out by the Denny’s. People and light would make her safe and it would only cost her a dollar twenty five to sit at the coffee bar and be warm for a while. She stopped as the figures unfolded from the shadows. This wasn’t the first time they’d precog’d her path, but it was the first they’d stood in her way.

“The master isn’t happy with you,” said the shadow on the left. He was taller, wore a trench coat that swirled against his legs as he strode forward. The street lamp behind her and half hidden by the old pawn shop revealed blonde hair that was cut rather business. He was wearing clothes that weren’t suited for an alley that was used as bathroom more often than not.

His partner looked more suited to the streets of the neglected downtown buildings. He was wearing a motorbike leather with a dragon airbrushed across the back, head coming down the left sleeve. She’d seen him enough times to know him at a glance. He was known as Tear. He never seemed to do much of anything but occassionalley go off for coffee and chats with the various street rats and personalities. She’d had one chat with him and been avoiding him ever since.

“The master made you a very generous offer, but you turned him down,” the left shadow continued. Something about his movements weren’t right, he seemed to move like an oil slick. Tisa kept an eye on Tear, judging her chance of escape by his movements. He seemed perfectly happy to lean up against the alley wall, shoulder against brick, and let the shadow do all the talking.  The shadow stopped in front of her, looking down at her.

Tisa wasn’t short. One of the reasons she’d joined the misfit crowd of youths was because she was tall and gangly, never fit in with those around her. This guy towered over her, it made an already tight stomach knot further. She was debating turning and taking her chances with those who had been chasing her when another form entered the alley mouth where she’d come from.

The new form seemed as wide as he was tall. He could have given a few of the CFL’ers a lesson in linebacking. His scent reached her, he smelt of old cigarettes and leather. He was wearing a sweet Duster than she’d have given two thoughts of rolling him for if it wouldn’t have wrapped around her skinny frame six times and tripped her ankles. Why did the tall skinny people never wear the cool clothes?

“Leave the kid alone, Jackson.” The voice was rough and travelled over her head to the shadow.

“She’s one of our’s.” The shadow, Jackson, replied.

“Not yet.” was the reply as the new comer drew even with her and faced off against Jackson.

“She’s not one of your’s.” Jackson sneered, “So you may as well keep out of it.”

“I’m tired of keeping out of it.” the new comer said, moving his head oddly sideways, each ear touching shoulder like he was loosening up. “The elders aren’t here to know otherwise, are they?”

“Jack..” Tear warned, standing up straight and looking less at ease.

Whatever warning Tear had been about to start got waved down. “Mirall, I’ve been looking forward to this.” He smiled a toothy smile that flashed canines unusualley long in the doubtful light.

“Hey kid, hold my jacket.” Mirall, the linebacker or whatever he was, shrugged out of the beautiful leather trenchcoat and handed it to her. Not so gently he shoved her out of the way as Jackson dropped civility and charged.

Tisa let out a squeel as her would-be rescuer went down under psychopath. The sickening crunching of bone and flesh sound had her run back the way she came, startling Tear into letting her go. She’d been in more than one fight, she’d tossed business people, but never had she heard those sickening thuds, tears and meaty sounds. She ran until she lost herself, leaning up against a lamp post panting.

She was surprised to find she was still holding the duster. She tossed it over a shoulder so she could wipe her hands on her jeans and catch her breath. It was several minutes before she felt almost normal again and looked around. A few doors down was a McDonalds. Not her idea of ideal coffee, especialley since they guilted you if you tried to get your one free refill, but right now warm, well lit and populated meant a lot.

The restaurant didn’t have a lot of people in it, but it was populated enough to make her feel centered once more. She ordered the large coffee with entirely too much sugar and cream and grabbed one of the read while you eat newspapers. She didn’t much care what was happening on the other side of the world, but it would give her something to occupy her mind with.

She was halfway through figuring her way through why the Canucks were trading one of their better defensemen to the Maple Leafs for a promise of a good draft slot when the chair opposite her was suddenly filled. Normalley she had an awareness of beings around her, but the linebacker,  Mirall just seemed to appear out of nowhere.

He was dressed conservatively, a little mountain man, Tisa thought. Hoodie, jeans, hiking boots. His beard was a bit scraggly, like he’d hit puberty and never touched blade to it and his medium brown hair was halfway down his back. His eyes were the strangest shade of pale. “My coat?” he asked, eyebrow raised. He seemed to act like they’d been planning to meet here all along.

She nodded to the chair beside her, trying to swallow her rapidly beating heart. “How’d you find me so fast?” she asked, ten thousand thoughts whirling.

He grinned, perfectly even white teeth. No strange canines. “Followed your scent.”

“I heard you get pummelled.” She continued, fingers toying with the edge of the newspaper.

He shook his head, “Naw, you heard me dropping shape to properly deal with one of the night walkers. Doesn’t sound real pretty, sorry I couldn’t warn you. Some folks don’t remember, some do.”

“Dropping..” She sighed and put her hands palm down on the table before picking up her nice large, warm coffee. “What kind of moron do you think I am, or what kind of freaks are you and your two shadow buddies? Am I supposed to suddenly go ‘Oh, he saved me, I must trust him with everything!’?”

Mirall’s grin managed to widen. “I’m not asking for anything but my coat. I offered you explanations, but I can’t help if they don’t fit your world.” He reached across the table to snag his jacket. Tisa felt a pang at the loss, even though it had never been her’s and it wouldn’t have fit right anyway. “But you might want to ask why those night walkers are being so persistant in tagging your tail.”

She was getting mad. Enough of the cloaks and daggers. “Okay, and why are those ‘night walkers’, which by the way, means ‘hooker’ in this part of the world and they certainly aren’t, chasing me?”

“‘Cause m’dear, you have something they want.” He stood up to shrug into his jacket.

“Well, duh.” she replied with the sarcasm and scorn off the teenager she’d once been and had gotten her tossed out of her parent’s house.

“You might want to be asking yourself what that is. I wouldn’t know.” He turned to leave in a swirl of leather.

“Hey.” She stopped him, curiousity winning over common sense and street smarts for a moment. “Dropping shape? What did yiou turn into? A werewolf?”

He snorted, looking quite offended. “Please.” He then shrugged as if settling fur, “I am a big fucking cat.”

Eyebrow raised at the disaply of what she hoped was insanity, Tisa watched the man turn sideways and duck to get back out onto the dark street. Insane or not, he had a point. Those thugs wanted her for a reason and it was obviously time to relocate. It was a bit early to be heading up valley, there wouldn’t be much transient work, but she could find an empty summer home to squat in none the less.

She downed the last of her coffee and put the paper back. She remembered her grandma once saying courtesy didn’t cost you nothing and it always brought good returns. She idealley wondered if all the small acts of courtesy she tried to do equalled one big mother fucker showing up to save her ass in a darkened alley.