[NRPG: I'm going to rewrite the bit with Matteen and Jinam, swapping the
names in some places, since Matteen is the empath, not Jinam.]

[Night of Day 8]

Night fell over Cleft Warren engulfing it in a soft black shroud.  There
was no moonlight, and no clouds obscured the myriad stars arrayed on the
canvas of the heavens.  Jinam and Matteen lay together in the soft grass
by the banks of the mare river looking up at the shining pinpoints of
light.  To the northeast they saw the Bowman with his arrow nocked and
ready.  They followed the line of the arrow to the Deer of the North
whose heart always lay directly to the north.  In the west they saw the
Bear, and south was the horse.

They were looking east at the Wolf when something large flew across the
sky, obscuring their view.

"That is odd," Matteen said in the Nomad tongue as he sat up and tried to
track the dark shape as it flew toward the warren. 

"What?" Jinam asked.

"That dragon flying toward warren."

"What is so odd about dragon flying toward warren?  It happens all time." 

"It didn't roar to watch dragon," Matteen said as the dark shape he was
following stopped moving.  He thought it must have landed.  "Dragon
entering warren always roars to watch dragon when it returns at night." 

"So, he probably forgot."

"Maybe," Matteen said standing up.  He could feel the hair on the back of
his neck bristle. 

"Where are you going?"

"Something doesn't feel right.  I'm going to have closer look."

Jinam watched him duck into his home and come out belting on his
swords.  Jinam shrugged and moved to follow him toward the warren.

******

Jinam and Matteen paused at the entrance to the hatching cavern,
listening.  They could hear the faint sounds of activity from inside and
Matteen debated his next move.

"It is not usually wise to enter Hatching Cavern uninvited," Jinam, who was
much more familiar with the ways of the warren than his cousin, said. 

Matteen nodded.  "But I have feeling."

"Then you and your feeling should lead way."  Jinam knew better than to
question the feeling of the dain Hanan.  If Matteen thought there was
something odd about the black dragon, there probably was.  It was a gift
he often envied.

Matteen stepped into the hatching cavern entrance and moved slowly
forward, allowing his eyes to adjust to the darkness.  They reached the
point where the entrance tunnel met the hatching cavern and Matteen
stopped.  He could see the large dragon belonging to Cynthia on the sand
with a large black dragon on top of her and two men mounted on the black
dragon's back. 

"Is that mating?" Matteen asked.

Jinam shook his head.  While Matteen had never visited the warren after
his imprisonment, Jinam was there frequently, and had seen mating flights.
He knew this was not mating, but simple violence.

Jinam sprinted toward the dragons, howling a Nomad war cry and drawing
both his swords.  He saw two more men on the ground and one hoisted a
struggling form, Cynthia he thought, up to one of the mounted men.  He
realised with surprise that all four men were Nomads.

"Get up," he heard one of the raiders shout to the two on the ground. 

They didn't get there before Jinam was on them. Jinam deftly sliced his
longer blade into one's side, keeping the shorter blade in readiness for
defense.  The other one spun on him and began to draw his sword.  Jinam
stepped and swung, deftly taking his hand off at the wrist.  The other
Nomad screamed as blood sprayed out.  Jinam brought the longer blade
forward and drove it up to the hilt into the man's chest.

The black dragon bounded forward toward the entrance tunnel. 

I must be insane, Matteen thought as he crouched just inside the hatching
cavern watching the black dragon come toward him.  As the dragon passed
him, he brought his longer sword up and plunged it into the beast's side. 
The dragon was moving so fast that he had to release his grip on the hilt
to avoid being dragged into the tunnel as well.  He heard a satisfying
roar of pain and had to scramble away from the dragon's lashing tail
before bringing the shorter blade to bear.  Then all was quiet.  Matteen
looked down the tunnel and saw nothing.  He moved away from the hatching
cavern entrance and stood by Jinam.  "What happened?" 

"I don't know exactly," Jinam said looking over at the crushed egg.

"He won't be able to tell us," Matteen said pointing at the dead Nomad.

"I'm hoping other one might be persuaded to talk," Jinam said
looking at the Nomad breathing raggedly on the sand.

Matteen walked over to Syren and knelt by her head.  Her color looked odd,
but she was definately alive.  "Poor mother," he whispered, "what has
happened to you?" 

Jinam strode over to Turner and cut his bonds.  He shook the smith and
Turner came slowly awake.  He sat bolt upright, and then leaned back a
bit.  He looked around, "Where are Kellie and Cynthia?"

"Gone with black dragon," Jinam answered in Turner's language.

"Then we may all be doomed."

******

[Brisse]

Brisse sat rocking Kyrran, her mind going over the horrible events of the
day.  Lenna missing.  Blanchie poisoned.  Trevor gone.

She wished Dan'yar were here.

But he was leading the search for Lenna and Trevor.  Somewhere out there
in lands they had yet to explore was a rogue warren.  They hoped the
nighttime lights of the place would act as a beacon to that place where
they believed Lenna was being kept.  And so they kept up their search,
even as night fell.

As for Trevor... no one knew what to think.

Suddenly, she felt a sudden surge of anger, rage, lust, malice...  Kyrran
began to scream.  She almost dropped him in her haste to rise, as the
feelings were joined by those of pain, fear, anger, outrage.

<The eggs!> Tymor screamed from her ledge as Brisse ran toward the exit of
her apartment.  She was nearly knocked back by the wind from a black
dragon as it lifted off in front of her apartment and then was gone. 

She took the steps two at a time, Kyrran clutched to her, then turned and
ran into the hatching cavern that was practically right under her
apartment.

She skidded to a stop at the sight that greeted her.  Jinam was helping
Turner up while Matteen was kneeling by a sickly-looking Syren.  A Nomad
lay bleeding his life away into the sands, while another lay already dead.
Some of the depressions where eggs had lain were empty now, most notably
the large one where the queen egg had stood, tall as Dan'yar and sparkling
bright.  She turned her gaze from the crushed egg, visions of the dying
hatchlings at Marrid flashing through her.

She was almost deaf to Kyrran's screams, so profound was her horror.
Matteen walked over and held out his hands.  Automatically, she handed him
over, then turned to Turner.

"What happened here?"

"Rashevon," Turner said.

"Rash what?"

"Rashevon.  Kellie said it was him.  M'del's dragon.  He was her...
step-son.  He had this huge, crazy wilder dragon.  They thought he was
dead.  But he came here tonight, with four Nomads and took some eggs.  And
he's got Kellie and Cynthia.  Oh, gods."

She heard footfalls behind her and turned to see Meena dashing in,
followed by the few other riders who hadn't been out searching for Lenna
and Trevor.  They all looked grim.  They had all heard what had happened.
S'lomon pushed his way past them and toward the sickly queen.  Jinam was
tending to the fallen Nomad raider.

"What can I do?" Meena asked.

Brisse suddenly realised that she was once again, in this crisis
situation, in charge of the warren.

"What can we do?  We don't even know where this place is.  We have no way
to find it except to keep searching," she said in frustration. 

"That's not true now," Meena answered.  "Far'rin found Trevor.  He has to
rest tonight, but tomorrow he'll be back and Trissana can use her talents
to find that place."

"She can really do that?"

"She can."

Brisse nodded.  "All right.  Go get Dan'yar and have him call his
searchers in."

"What?!" Meena exclaimed.  "Call them in?  Why?"

"Because," Brisse said calmly, "we need all our riders rested.  Tomorrow
morning when Trevor and Trissana get back, we're finding and attacking
this Jhezrael Warren with full force, nothing held back.  They want a
fight.  We'll give them a fight."

Respectfully submitted,
 Lynette R. F. Cowper
  Brisse and Tymor

---

 Lynette R. F. Cowper <lcowper@indy.net>, INWO Line Editor