Dren continued to drag Amani through the streets of Vienda, weaving a path towards a safehouse that he owned but rarely operated in. It was a block of flats, one room of which he kept unoccupied at all times. He paid someone to clean it and keep quiet about it, although there really wasn't much to be said about what went on there. He simply slept there from time to time.

Unfortunately it was on the second floor.

"Mind the walls, Amani." Dren muttered in mugrobi, taking care not to jostle her and incite her wrath. "You do seem rather clumsy today, my love."

The steps were small and difficult to navigate but at least the door was looming before them and with it, some salvation. Dren did not seem as mad about their failure as Amani might have expected.

Amani, who had been about to sway against the wall, switched directions and leaned more heavily on Dren's arm. She couldn't muster up the energy to reply. The force of her mind was concentrated on each of the small steps that seemed more like mountains at the moment. She was breathing hard and she could feel a chill beginning to climb up her spine. It was cooler indoors and the sweat that had made her back slick gave her goosebumps.

Her foot slipped and she only caught herself just in time, biting her lip after uttering a small yelp of desperation. She drew blood.

Dren kept pulling Amani forward, even as her foot slipped on the stair. He was like creeping vine, tugging. It took an age to reach the final landing. Dren became quieter as the time passed. Like a force of nature that had gone dormant.

He propped her up against the wall as he slid the key into the latch. Even then his hands did not fumble. His movements were still precise and eerie. He did not seem to have anything else in his head but the task before them. It took nearly ten minutes but he eventually had her laid out on the couch.

It smelled of old mould.

"I'm not very good at healing." Dren said and Amani knew it to be an oft repeated line.

His hand spread out as he began to speak the syllables that would heal Amani. It felt unnatural, like a chill had come over the room. His magic felt like being probed with a long, cruel finger. It was clearly not within his nature to be a gentle healer, though it would not change the result.

"Tell me where it hurts most." He said, intrigue obvious and not at all hidden. Her comfort was a disjoint set to where his interests lay.

Amani's eyes were wide and her nostrils were flared in pain as she layed on the couch, refusing to cry out. She only managed a gutteral sort of grunt and a half nod when Dren told her he wasn't good at healing. Had she been in a clearer state of mind she might have told him where he could shove his bad healing spells, but for now she was barely hanging on to conciousness.

She looked at her badly charred arm and wiggled it slightly, indicating that that was what hurt the most. In truth she couldn't exactly tell-- everything hurt. Her head felt like it was shrinking, compressing her skull. Amani took deep breaths trying not to pant, trying to slow her heartbeat.

The sound of skin knitting together is unpleasant enough with a clean cut. With a burn it was like hearing hearing meat crackle on the fire. They could even smell it. It was like being at war with all it's ways at tearing people apart. There was a single lamp in the room, small and serving more to throw shadows than to provide light.

"You stink." Dren said quietly, once he was finished. Amani's burnt arm was tender, sore and much paler now. It was obvious that she would have to be gentle with it, possibly visit another healer.

"I think I should get you to drink some water." He said, keeping to estuan because he did not feel like having a fluid tongue. "Tell me, Amani, when did you become so incompetent?"

He stood like a bird taking flight. He barely even bothered to look at her as he crossed the room and poured her water. The pitcher he was holding was heavy and black and near invisible in the darkness.

The laugh that escaped the dark woman sounded dry and painful, "Since I did not have an army at my back."

Everything, she had once reasoned, was easier with a million men screaming bloody murder and wielding the best weapons and magic available to an army. She was for the most part correct.

"Besides, I think I would wish to see you do better." Amani said it with an amused smile that did not reach her eyes. She let out a slow breath, flexing her hand and removing the armguard finally. She was sure she did smell, but she was still breathing too hard to do much actual smelling.

Her arm felt weak and quite tender.

"I misjudged some things. This was a failure on-- yaraka!" She swore, and switched to Mugrobi, "If those other seventen hadn't been near I would have finished him."

She could feel exhaustion creeping into her limbs, making them heavier. Her eyelids were also puffy and weighted.

"I am glad to see that your success is so conditional." Dren said wryly, now moving back towards her and handing her the glass. "I had not realised that you kept excuses in your arsenal."

He sat on the arm of the couch, still.

"Better the seventen find him. He'll be up on disciplinary charges, surely. I saw the humans watching you two carry on. They were terrified." Dren seemed pleased. He liked the lower races, he felt that had an exuberance that galdori lacked. That didn't stop him from enjoying it when they scurried about like rats.

"Perhaps it is time for a tactical retreat on your part. Unless you have other business. Please feel free to call on me, should you ever need me for your own purposes." He looked like a hatcher. "I do so value our working relationship."

"I keep several." Amani replied, too tired to get too angry.

"Seen." She croaked, taking the water from him and swallowing small sips, "Great. I can't wait to become a wanted criminal in Anaxas as well as Mugroba. This is why I don't like leaving the Harbor."

The Mugrobi woman snorted derisively, "Yes I'll contact you as soon as I want some new injuries." She growled. "Since you're always so happy to give me things to do where I can get them."

"I'm glad you understand me." Dren said, apparently without guile. "Be honest Amani, doesn't civilian life bore you? You may hate me, in fact I'm sure you do. Does it not make you feel more alive?"

Dren watched Amani, drained from healing but still twitching slightly from the stress of the evening. He knew it to be a chemical reaction. Amani wasn't the sort to flinch where it counted. He draped a blanket over her.

"I suppose your best has been adequate. I'll do something to make it up you." He continued, moving towards the window and sitting on the ledge. When he drew the curtain out slightly, it was just as dark. He let it flop back down.

"Sleep, we will talk in the morning."

"And what..." Amani began and then halted, "And what is it that makes you think I want to feel alive? After all that I have done."

Better to sink into oblivion.



"Please don't." Amani mumbled, feeling that her definition of things being fixed and Dren's definition were probably vastly different.

She let herself sink into an exhausted, dreamless sleep.

Amani's rest was uninterupted and she might have been surprised to find that when she finally opened her eyes, it was bright outside. Dren was nowhere to be seen, though he had left a note sitting by the window, along with some fruit and bread. A pitcher full of water was sitting on the bureau, out of the sun.

The skin of Amani's arm was tender, though not badly enough that she could not move. The human body generally could not regenerate nerves on its own, so the magical interference was going to leave her feeling strangely until her body had time to become accustomed to the new sensation.

Amani could see a door leading off to the left, while the door outside was behind her. Now was her opportunity to explore, should she so wish.

Amani groaned a little as she got up. Her head ached. She half wondered how she'd managed to get here. Putting that question out of her mind she lifted herself and massaged her head a little. The first thing that caught her eye was the water, and she stumbled towards it. She drank until she felt a little dizzy and felt the water sloshing around in her stomach.

The note caught her eye next and eating an apple she scanned it.

The note was written in Mugrobi.



The paper was slightly scented, possibly with lavender.

[i'm asited!]

Amani read the postscript twice and put the paper down. She rummaged through the bureau until she found the salve and applied it gently, wincing more out of surprise than out of pain when she felt it cool her arm significantly. She'd have to ask Dren what it was later.

Her eyes slid involuntarily to the door. She didn't notice she'd been staring at it until...well until she did. Amani stopped herself.

Again with the mindgames, Dren? She thought to herself idly. He was either trying to get her to open the door, or he was trying to stop her from opening it. It all depended on how much he knew her. Superficially of course, she'd follow orders of her commander until she crossed the vale. Dren was no commander. Mirai had been, but Dren was not.

Blue eyes flicked to the closed door again, this time consciously and Amani bit her lip. She took a few steps closer and put her head near the door, listening for movement.

Amani could not hear a thing. Not even the sense of space, that echo that came with nothing being beyond a door. She was going to have no joy there. The door had no lock. She would not have been able to see under it, had she tried. The door opened towards her and something had been placed across the bottom, on the other side.

If she wanted to know what was within, she was going to have to open the darn thing.

Amani let out an annoyed snort and looked around for her weapons. She found them near the couch and pulled out the long dagger that was strapped neatly into the belt besides the sword. Holding it defensively close to her, she approached the door and pulled it open.

The door opened silently, despite the age of the apartment it was clear that time was spent on its upkeep. The room was dark and it took a moment for Amani's eyes to adjust, as the open door allowed more light in. There was a note pinned to the wall.



Beneath it was a tied up human woman, now struggling and screaming beneath the gag she was wearing. Her eyes were near white, head flicking as she tried to get further away from Amani. She would need to be careful not to trip on the door snake Dren had left to help muffle the sound. She looked to be in her mid-twenties, with dark hair tied back by a pale cloth.

Amani grinned wolfishly at the note in spite of herself. Okay. So he always covered all his bases. Now the girl... There was a chance that this was one of the people that wasn't supposed to see her. Her mind turned and she wished once again she was a planner.

Well, if she was to let the girl go, she'd have to find out who she was...why she was here. Just in case Dren had her here for a good reason. Amani attempted to cast Quiet.

Amani was drained from the night before and perceptive magic was hardly her heart's true calling. Her field seemed to pull away from her, draining her strength as she spoke. It was only enough to make her feel like she needed to sit down. Her skin felt drier and she could almost hear a sound like water on sand. The room seemed almost silent now, except for the muted cries of the woman in front of Amani. She was crying now, snot and tears leaking down her face.

Don'tthrowupdon'throwupdon'tthrowup.

Amani took a deep breath and removed the gag with shaking fingers from the other woman.

"Okay. Who are you?"

There were probably better questions Amani could have asked but she was too tired to think of them. The sound that was buzzing in her ears was making her slightly dizzy and she realized how thirsty she was. She'd wait for the answer and then get water. Hopefully it would revive her somewhat.

The moment Amani removed the gag was the same moment that the woman decided to scream. Loudly. Outsiders wouldn't have heard a moment of it but Amani was not outside. She was inside.

"Oh gods, don't kill me! Stop-clockers, I hate you, I hate you!" She ranted and raved and wouldn't stop a moment. She was off her head with fear.

Amani, of course, had some options. She could try to calm the woman, she could knock her out or she could kill her. If she got closer, she would have noticed a pece of paper tucked into the woman's bodice, slightly more visible now that the woman had her gag off.

It was like a puzzle game, only with hostages.

"Oh for fucks sake." Amani growled. Really, she should have expected this. "I will be right back."

Amani walked out of the closet and considered closing it before deciding that would probably only increase the screams. Instead she grabbed the pitcher of water she'd seen earlier and drank straight from it instead of pouring it in a cup. Too late, she wondered if it was poisoned.

Lalala don't care about poisoooon.

After she was done she put the jug down with a heavy clunk and headed back to the closet, feeling much better than she had. She was wondering how to calm the girl down before deciding that she wasn't really good at calming people down. She was only good at killing people.

Taking out the longer dagger she pointed it at the girl's neck, glaring. "Shut up. Do not move."

She reached towards the note carefully, hoping this wasn't one of those biting hostages that Dren had often found in their war games.

The woman let out one last, piercing scream before descending into a series of small teary gasps, like hiccoughs. She did seem to be considering biting Amani, though the size of the blade pointed at her made her reconsider. Amani procured the note with little trouble.



Even his hand writing looked smug.

Amani let out a long, annoyed sigh and dropped the letter. She began picking at her nails with the long dagger, as was her custom when she began to think.

"You are making my life difficult." It was unclear as to who she was speaking to-- the girl, or Dren. The girl would most likely think it was directed at her. Amani didn't care. Instead of coming up with a plan she glanced at the woman and frowned.

"Do you need to go to the toilet? I can cut you loose and take you there if you promise not to run. If you run I will kill you." It wasn't a threat, it was a fact.

A clever kidnapee would have said, "why, yes, I do need to go to the toilet, please take me there, I won't try to escape, oh no!" And then kicked Amani in the head once they were in the lavatory and screamed for help or run out the door. It's very difficult to be clever when you're terrified.

"Oh gods, please don't hurt me!" She whimpered, falling back into the same rigmarole as before, only at a lower volume. "I d-don't know anything, please, I've got children, four of them, I don't know what they'd do without me."

Threatening to kill the woman had focused her attention, just not in the area Amani had been hoping for. She babbled on for a while. Amani began to detect a certain, familiar smell...

"I pissed myself oh please don't kill me." The woman said, still senseless with fear but at least explaining the smell.