The freedom of flight was breathtaking.
	A shadow skimmed across the clouds, high above the mountains, yet far
below the burning sun.  Only twice did the mountain peaks break the
clouds, and they were bare, snow-capped mounds at best.  They rose like
little hills on a surreal cloudscape, mocking land and grass and hills. 
It fitted, at least- green grass, green hills, white clouds, white
hills.
	Of course, the clouds were not solid, and the peaks were.
	<You think its around here somewhere?>
	<Its got to be.  Im sure of it.>
	<But you dont know.>
	<No.  I only glanced at the map.  I just wanted to get out of there.>
	<I dont see why...>
	*Of course you cant, my friend...*
	The dragons shadow that skimmed the cloud came closer, spiraling down
as if right out of the sun itself.  It became ice-blue, almost white,
streaked like heat-cracked ice in veins of white.  Icy, opalescent eyes
whirled and focused in a myriad of pearly hues, adjusting automatically
to the lessening light of the sun.
	Callana clung firmly to her dragonsaddle, her sword and provisions
strapped across her back.
	<We could have teleported,> Slaire accused, gliding a bit to rest her
wings.  Callana bit her nearly bloodless lips and did not reply.  A
dark, deep sense of loss welled up from the bottom of her soul,
threatened to spill into her eyes, her eyes threatened to tear and
flood.  She felt one trickle down her face, off her chin, and saw it
splash down onto one gloved hand.

	[Flashback/Dream]
	Crying blood.
	Callana screamed, and watched as the blood slowly washed over her feet,
as it rose slowly up.  It crept up past her ankles, to her shins, her
calves, her knees, her thighs, her hips.. she was swimming in the blood
of a thousand dragons.
	Slaires anguished cry, mingled with Furls desperate screech, brought
her back to the relative reality of the wastes.  She stared helplessly
down into the valley of skulls, and saw the skeletons begin to rise up
and float in an ocean of crimson.
	It spilled over the sides of the valley, running down onto the flat,
grey expanse of dead, yet deathless land, forming tiny rivers far below.
	[End of Flashback/Dream]

	Callana snapped back into reality.  *Shards...!  Not another...
gods...*  She looked down.  Her flight instructor, nearly five years
ago, had warned her about looking down.  Far below, Callana saw rivers. 
They were blue, sparkling, clean.  Not a dull scarlet, filthy and
tainted by death.  Desperately, she blocked out the harsh cries of the
dead, who had only gone there to seek peace from their pain.  They had
met only death.  Callana had seen her death there, and wanted no part of
it.
	<Sorry,> her dragon replied a moment later, after Callanas silence. 
It was a good indicator she was upset or angry.  <Really... I- I didnt
mean.. Im sorry..>
	<Of course you are,> Callana sighed, trying to soothe her agitated
dragon.  <Of course.>  *Im sorry, too,* she thought to herself.
	Slaire folded her wings nearly all the way and plummeted to the ground
in a nearly heart-stopping dive.  Callana let out an involuntary whoop
of excitement, and clung on for dear life.  As they broke through the
clouds, Callana was momentarily stunned by the huge expanse of green.
	<I think we found the NomadLands,> Slaire thought, trying to change the
subject.
	<Obviously,> Callana replied shortly, having little use for such an
evident statement.  Slaires wings went limp for a moment; a humans
equivalent gesture would have been slumped shoulders.
	Slaire snapped open her wings and hovered briefly, before continuing
her descent in lazy, downward circles.  Her shadow became larger and
larger down on the grassy plains, and horseherds scattered.  An arrow
whizzed and fell short.  Callana snorted, reaching for her own bow.
	<No, Blade!> Slaire cut in hastily.  <Thats just one of the Nomads
herds.  We dont want to fix the fragile terms of peace the Warren has
established with them.>
	Callana put her bow away without any sign of reluctancy, yet she did
not relish laying away her arms.  She did not reply.
	<So, which way to the Warren?> Slaire asked, genuinely curious.
	<Dont you know?  Cant you sense the other dragons?> Callana answered.
	<...>  Slaires precense of mind was there, but there was no real
answer.  After a moment of mental silence, her dragons thoughts came,
<I, like you, have my reasons for silence.>
	They circled lower and lower until they were only about two hundred
feet above the ground.
	<To our north,> Slaire decided a moment later.  <The Warren is to our
north.>
	<North, then,> Callana agreed.
	Which way was north?  Up, down, left, right, east, south- to the sun or
the moon?  Those mountains were behind us, last time... no, they
werent.  They were there before.  They dont shift.  Thank gods, they
dont shift.  Strong, steady landmarks.
	*But, dammit, it wouldnt matter!  We got over that, we learned our way
around... they could have shifted on us and we would have survived..
gods, we always survived.  Charmed, or something magical like those
blasted bards are always singing about.*
	<Graces, Slaire, graces.  Are there any patrolling pairs about right
now?>
	<No,> Slaire returned.  <Not in this area.  They leave the NomadLands
fairly solitary.>
	*Ill have to remember that,* Callana thought absently, running a hand
through her white-blond hair.
	They spent the rest of the flight in silence, as usual.  Silent, mutual
understanding passed between them, a sense of anticipation of what the
other would do, a talent honed from nine months of being stranded in the
shifting wastes.
	<Hello!  Welcome to Cleft!  You must be knew here.. did you just
transfer->
	Callana cut the unwanted sending out, just by closing her mind to her
dragon.  Slaire was just so used to passing messages on, straight from
their source.  Callana did not recognize the mind-voice, or see the
speaker.  She knew there were several dragons in the area now, because
Slaire could feel them.
	<That wasnt very nice.  He was just trying to be friendly.>
	<When I find out who that was, Ill apologize,> Callana retorted
coldly.  <In person,> she tacked on, as an afterthought.
	<Of course.>  Slaire shrugged, as much as any dragon could shrug.
	Dragon River ran down out of the mountains, carving a deep, beautiful
valley into the rocks.  It was a veritable haven amongst the streches of
sandy desert and burnt grasslands.  Callanas sharp eyes could just make
out a series of caves etched in to the face of the valley, marking
entrances to personal apartments.  Larger cave openings were obviously
entrances to major warren holes.
	Callana itched to take out the little reed-flute that hung at her side.
	*Had to learn something, cooped up in bed, whilest those healers asked
me if I could see bloody dragons and burning wastes.. or was it
fire-spitting dragons and bloody wastes?  Or maybe... ah, never I mind. 
Lakoda was convinced I was fine, sane, fit, healthy, whatever.  I could
leave.  I did leave.  And here I am.  It looks very peaceful down there-
ah, yes, there it is- the Warren Green.*  Her dragon immediately began
angling for the Green.
	Several more riders attempted communication, but Callana rebuffed them
all.  <Slaire- please...>
	She could feel Slaires broadcast sending go out.  Her request for
peace until she landed was graciously answered by all who had spotted
her on the Green.  She circled in closer, smelling the deep green scents
of the vegitation, and the richness of fresh, pure water.
	<Relative luxery, I suppose.  Ill just have to get used to it.>
	<Its a hard life,> Slaire sighed, uncharacteristically showing
slightly sarcastic humor.
	Callana grumbled something in reply, but was too busy paying attention
to the little attention Slaire was giving her landing.  They were
approaching much too fast...
	<Slaire!  You overgrown rock lizard!  Slow down!  I want to land in one
piece, not spend another year with the Healers!>
	Slaire grinned toothily as the people on the Warren Green scattered to
make way for the dragon and rider pair to land.  Slair chose her spot,
folded her wings, and dove for the ground again.  Callana hung on,
feeling all her skill fly out the window.  Her eyes flashed with
excitement and fear, but she kept her face emotionless.  At the very
last moment possible, Slaire snapped her wings open, buffeting the
ground and all those unlucky enough to be nearby with great gusts of
wind generated from her large wings.  She landed gently, barely bending
the grass, one claw elegently raised for a three-point (clawed) landing.
	<You...> Callana seethed, her eyes burning.  A bit of smoke escaped
from Slaires jaws and curled upwards as the dragon smiled.
	<I?  What have I done..?> Slaire returned instandly, letting her raised
claw to the ground.  <I merely provided us with all due->
	<Pomp and idiocy!  You friggin showoff!>
	<Fine!  Our first impression can be yours, Ms. Iceberg,> Slaire
snorted.  Callana dug one of her spurs in Slaires side, and Slaire
lashed her tail.  Callana kicked free of the saddle and slid to the
ground, which was about twenty-five feet away.  Slaire lowered her
shoulder politely, and Callana only fell about fifteen feet.  She slid
down Slaires forearm, hitting the ground painfully and tumbling.
	<Clumsy lizard..> she grumbled, rubbing her shoulder as she sprang to
her feet.
	<Well, at least youre fit,> Slaire retorted.
	<Ill get you back,> Callana promised, her eyes glinting playfully.
	<Just how, pray tell, do you plan to seek revenge on a creature such as
I?> Slaire asked imperiously, standing tall and proud all of a sudden. 
She tucked her hind quarters beneath her, wrapped her tail around
herself, and posed.
	Callana groaned.
	By now, a small crowd had gathered.  There were only seven other
dragons present, surprisingly enough.  Callana wondered where they all
could have been.
	Crisis, she knew instantly.
	Slaires tail twitched.  <Weve been gone far too long, Blade,> her
dragon sighed.
	<Shut up.  As far as we know, they dont know we were ever gone.  Lets
try to keep it that way.>
	Callana plastered a smile on her face.  It was warm, radiant, friendly,
and honest, though not genuine.  It was far from genuine- it was the
kind of smile she had used for Tkeths friends- people she had little
tolerance for, and liked even less.  She used that smile for the sake of
Tketh, because it helped her fit in.  Tketh had always wanted her to
have more friends...  *And I had always wanted Tketh to just have me.*
	My name is Callana Blade, she called.  Ive transferred from Marrid,
only just arrived.  I need to see your - our - the Warrenlady.

****
NRPG:  Tag, Barb!

Submitted by
Keri Rodgers <keri_rodgers@execacco.com>
Callana Blade and Slaire