The morning of the discovery.

*JADAIN!*

Falling out of bed, clutching his head, R'ven buckled under the onslaught of
his distraught dragon.  Doubled up, with his eyes shut to stop the room form
swimming, R'ven called to his soul mate.

*Zen? Are you alright?* His head ached  and he felt nauseous as he tried to
stand.

Placing his hands on the wall, the hungover rider clawed his way upright.
The room tipped and swayed and R'ven felt the contents of his stomach doing
the same.

He managed to get to the bathroom in time.

*R'VEN! WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?* Zenith screamed in his brain.

His stomach lurched again.

*Zenith, don't shout. It kinda hurts. Now I know that we haven't seen eye to
eye recent...*

*Shut it 'Ven! It's Jadain. I can't reach him. No-one can. It's as if he's
dead but alive.*

Sitting with his back to the cool wall, R'ven wiped his mouth with the back
of his hand, trying to rid the sour taste from his lips.

*Whoa... slowly Zen,  you're not making any sense.*

 R'ven's head throbbed. He sat taking deep breaths as he tried to recollect
what had happened last night. His brain too befuddled to be listening to his
dragon closely.

*R'ven,  are you  listening to me?* the large black harangued

*Give me one bloody good reason why the fuck I should!?* R'ven spat back.
*After the way you have behaved I should...*

*R'VEN! SHUT UP AND LISTEN TO ME!*

The dragon rider clasped his head, resting his forehead on his knees.

*Don't shout!*

*Jadain has found Sienra's rider's healer and the hatchling. They are dead.
No-one can talk to Jadain.*

R'ven's head snapped up, the walls spinning. He closed his eyes.

*Dyanisa is dead! Are you telling me Dy is dead?*  Colour draining from his
face. 

Zenith sighed impatiently.

*No. She and Sienra are nowhere to be found.*

R'ven breathed a sigh of relief. 

*Phew for a moment I thought you said she was dead.*

He reached out for the wall and stood up. Turning, he looked at himself in
the mirror.

*So who's supposed to be dead?* 

He stuck his tongue out and grimaced at the face that copied him.

 *And what do you mean you can't hear Jadain. He's most probably still asleep*

 He pulled his lower eyelid down and looked at the bloodshot orb.

'Yeugh! You look like shit, R'ven,' he said to himself as he filled the sink
with cold water.

*Yea gods, R'ven!  You haven't heard a single word I have said. Get your
sorry ass out here and  you can read my lips!*

*Look, my scaly friend. I feel like shit; look like shit and my mouth tastes
shit. Now get out of my head and let me die!*

He ducked his head under the cold water. The iciness clawing at his face,
opening the pores and reaching deep within his skin. 

*Jadain is hur,t R'ven. Get out here  and help."

R'ven breathed in taking the cold water into his lungs. Pulling his head
free from the sink, he coughed and retched.
Grabbing a towel and stumbling against the wall he gasped, *What do you mean
hurt? How, when, why, where? Where's Jayleigh? Is she ok? Why didn't you
tell me sooner?*

*I did! But would you listen? Oh no! Mr Know-it-all knows everything!*
Zenith shot back sarcastically. *Get over to Sienra's rider's healer's new
apartment. Jadain is unconscious and the healer and his hatchling are dead.*

R'ven was now trying to pull on the grotesque green and purple leather pants
along with the frilly shirt. Hopping around the room he tried to find his
other boot.

*Hurry, R'ven!*

'Oh shit!' he swore and he tumbled out from his room in the hatching
barracks and into the morning.

He half ran, half limped over to the apartment where a crowd was gathering.

He pushed his way through the throng. Standing on the steps of the
apartment, R'ven cleared his throat. 

"Quiet! QUIET!" 

The rumbling murmurs died down and R'ven continued to speak.

"Please can you all move away. We need to get the healers in and you are
slowing down their progress. "

"Did she do it? Did she kill that child?" someone shouted.

"I have no idea what's happened. All I do know is that you are hampering
the people that need to be here. I'm sure Jayleigh and Danika will keep us
all advised as to what the situation is. Now if you will please step back
behind the cordon."

R'ven watched as several dragon riders pushed the encroaching crowd back.
Their dragons watching beadily at the mass of bodies tried to push their way
under the ropes. A snap of jaws or a toothy yawn deterred most folk.

********

There was silence in the apartment as the healers took Jadain over to the
Med Centre.  R'ven knew that he'd only be in the way so stayed behind with
Lorish.

"Why is it Ven the only time I ever get to see you is when there is a
death?" the blond woman complained.

"Well it could have something to do with the fact that you don't actually
keep social hours Lorish, plus you seem to be in great demand in the
Landbound world."

Lorish nodded agreement, "The Landbound do pay rather well though."

" So what's your opinion 'Rish?"

They were in the room where the child had slept. 

"The baby was smothered as far as I can see. There are no wounds on her." 

The pathologist turned the child onto her back.

"What are those marks on face?"

"I would say that they are finger prints."

R'ven looked puzzled. 

"Would they have been there before Kerrie was killed?"

"Oh no most certainly not. The pillow would have smudged them. And another
thing they don't belong to Dryan."

"How do you know?" R'ven looked more closely at the child's face.

"Look at his hands. The fingers are much larger than these prints. I'd
guess that they belonged to Dy or whoever was in here at the time of the
killings. I'd also say that, that person was badly hurt too.  There is blood
on the edge of the crib. and also splatters over the bed linen. That
wouldn't have been caused by bloody hands."

"Then what would have caused it?"

"How tall was Dyanisa?"

R'ven shrugged and ran his fingers through his hair.

"About this high," he held his hand to his chin.

"So a bit shorter than me."

R'ven nodded. He watched as Lorish knelt on the floor next to the crib. 

"I think that whoever removed the pillow was kneeling next to the crib. If
you look here," Lorish pointed to the bars, "there  are traces of blood. I
can't be certain but I'd say that they had been stabbed in the ribs maybe
here or here." She jabbed her fingers into the side of her chest. "The knife
pierced the lung causing that person to cough up blood. That's what those
spatterings there are." She pointed to the red blobs on the bed clothes.
"And... if you follow me..."

R'ven helped the woman up from her knees.  

"These spots here and here are likely to have been coughed up too. There is
also blood out in the dragons hollow."

"What are you saying? That Dy killed Dryan and his daughter? I don't believe
that for one minute." R'ven paced angrily back into the living area and sat
down on the sofa, burying his head in his hands.

"I didn't say that R'ven. Was Dy left or right handed?"

"Gods... I haven't got the..." R'ven rubbed his hands over his face. "Right.
She was right handed."

"Why did you say 'was'?"

"What?" R'ven looked up, bewilderment in his eyes.

"You said 'She was right handed.' That implies you think she is dead."

Standing up, R'ven wandered around the room.

"I have no idea why I said it." He slumped back down on a chair. "I just...
I don't know! I just get the feeling she's dead." 

Again he buried his head in his hands.

"Why do you want to know if she was... is... was... right-handed?" he
mumbled through his fingers.

"Here take this."

Lorish handed him a pencil.

"What's this for? To sign my own death certificate. They say the penis
mightier than the sword!"

"Be serious, R'ven. Stand up."

Peering up at the pathologist, he sighed, slapping the palms of his hands on
his thighs he pulled himself up.

"Ok, what am I supposed to be doing?"  he enquired  as he took the pencil.

"How would you stab someone in the neck?"

"What?"

"You heard, R'ven. How much did you have to drink last night?"

"Too much," he groaned.  "Oh shit!" He stumbled back at a sudden thought.

"What is it?"

He stared down at the stiff body.

"Last night," he continued, "he was drinking. The same place as me. He was
drunk. Muttering about ghosts and the child and everyone gone. Dead!"
R'ven's eyes opened wide in realisation. "Oh Gods. I think Dy killed him. He
was really drunk, he couldn't focus or walk. What if... no he wouldn't have!
Would he?" he asked Lorish.

She remained silent as R'ven tried to piece things together in his mind.

"What if he came home, and he tried it on with Dy. She grabbed a knife and
they fought.  She ended up getting  stabbed as they wrestled and .... no
that doesn't work does it?"

He looked at Lorish's calm face. She was shaking her head.

"What the hell happened here?" R'ven snapped angrily. Not being able to
piece the jigsaw together was infuriating.

He sat back down and looked over the evidence.

"They didn't fight because there isn't any mess. Ok so what's this with the
pencil?"

Lorish put her hands in her pockets and walked over to R'ven.

"Dyanisa is right-handed. Dryan was left handed."

"How do you know?"

"There are ink marks on the left index finger and thumb."

"Ok, So?"

"So... take the pencil in your right hand and pretend to stab me in the neck."

R'ven stood up and jabbed at Lorish's neck.

"You have stabbed me in the left-hand side."

"Rish, I really don't follow."

"Come and look at Dryan."

R'ven wearily got up once again and made his way over to the body.

"What do you see?"

"I see a dead man with a knife in his neck."

"Yes, but *what* side of the neck?"

R'ven shrugged, "The right."

"And what does that tell you?"

"Bloody hell, Lorish, can we cut the fuckin' riddles? So far today I've been
woken up with a dragon shouting in my hungover brain, thrown up, and have
become embroiled in a murder investigation. I'm feeling like death warmed up
and you want to play games with me?"

"There was a time, R'ven, when you could have sorted out the clues, so damn
it man, THINK!"

R'ven glared at her.

"Dy was right-handed. If she stabbed Dryan where would the knife be?"

"In the left-side of his neck."

"But it isn't. It's in the right-side. What does that tell you? It tells you
that Dy didn't kill him, unless she did it from behind, in which case the
entry angle would be different. Think about it R'ven, Dy - was - blind! She
couldn't have killed him from behind.  He's a powerfully built man. He could
have overpowered her, even if he was drunk."

"So what are you saying? He committed suicide? Oh come on be reasonable. Why
would he do that? There must be another explanation!"

"Ok. Take the pencil  and stab me in the right-side of my neck." She watched
R'ven awkwardly stab at her.

"See how difficult that is?"

"What if I came up like this?"

R'ven  cut upwards with the pencil.

"Wrong angle of entry. The only possible explanation for that wound in that
position is that it was self inflicted. He committed suicide. Your next
question is going to be why and that my dear friend is going to be up to you
to discover."

"And what about Dyanisa? Do you think she killed the baby?"

"R'ven, I have no idea. That again is going to be your responsibility... to
find the truth. All I can tell you is that Dryan committed suicide and that
his daughter was suffocated. And I think Dyanisa was stabbed in lungs. I
have a feeling that you are right R'ven."

"That Dy is dead?"

Lorish nodded sadly, "Dryan has been dead about ten hours. If Dy hasn't got
treatment she would be dead too! I'm sorry 'Ven. I know you cared about her.
The best thing you can do is seek out the truth as best you can. There is
always going to be speculation about this. Without Dy, or her body, we will
never know the truth!"



*********

*Are you sure you can't see anything?* R'ven asked Zenith as he wriggled in
his saddle.

*Will you please sit still 'Ven. For the hundredth time I can's see anything
down there out in the Wastes. I don't get any reply to my calls either.
Let's face it, they ain't here.*

The dark haired rider slumped over  Zenith's scaly neck and exhaled wearily.

*Take me down will you.*


Zenith's great bulk banked steeply and, as he approached the ground, he
backwinged to slow his descent, neatly tucking in his wings as they landed.

R'ven slid from Zenith's back and grabbed a canteen of water. The liquid
cooled his parched throat.

He'd gone to the Healers Hall at Tinobal to inform them of the death of
Dyran and his daughter. Reji Nikero, the healer that recommended Dryan go to
Daere, was upset at the news and when R'ven had told him that it could
possibly have been suicide, Reji didn't look too surprised.

R'ven went back over the conversation in his mind as he sat with his back
against a rock.

"I must admit I wasn't sure if Dray would have taken the job. I mean it's
only been a few weeks since his wife died.  Such a waste."

"How did she die?" R'ven had asked.

"Adie died almost immediately after giving birth to Kerrie. Dray was beside
himself with grief. I thought at one point he was going to loose it. But he
seemed to snap out of it. The child was sensitive to almost everything.
She'd cry at a drop of a hat. I think that Dray at first resented Adie
leaving him with a deformed child. I then assumed that he'd reconciled the
fact that Adie was dead and no matter what the problems with the child were,
he'd do his best, just for Adie."

"Do you recognise this?" R'ven held out a knife.

Reji took the blade from the dragon rider and turned it over in his hands. 

"I should say so. It was a present to him from Adie. One of Dray's hobbies
was carving. He was very good actually. He'd carve heads of his patients and
then let them 'see' themselves by touch. It encouraged them to want to find
out more about the seeing world through their fingertips."

R'ven asked at this point if there was a bust of Adie. Reji had told him
that Dray did have one, but didn't know where it was. 

"Can I look around his rooms?"


*****

He'd found nothing of help in Dyran's home. He thanked Reji for his time and
told the healer that the body of Dyran and his child would be returned to
Tinobal for burial.

Now here he was looking for ghosts in the desert. R'ven had got Zenith to
pull images from his memory about Sienra's favourite places. And where he
sat now was Dy's home. Where she had lived as a child. But there was
nothing. Birds circled lazily in the sun, catching the warm thermals
bouncing up from the land; heat haze made the scrub dance infront of his eyes.

He sat just staring into the distance, not wanting to believe that she was
dead. 

*Come on, 'Ven, let's go home,* Zenith pushed his snout at his riders feet.
*There is nothing else you can do. Like you, I believe Sienra and her rider
are dead. And I don't think that Dyanisa would have killed the child.*

R'ven patted the warm scales at his feet and pushed himself up, brushing the
dirt from his clean pants.

*Yeah, I guess you're right,* he sighed resolutely. *We will never know the
full story. If only she didn't run.*

*I think she wanted to go home. Some animals go back to the place they were
born to die. Take salmon for instance.*

R'ven nodded silently and hefted himself up into the saddle. Zenith rose
gracefully into the air, and, like the birds, he found a warm air current
that took him higher into the clear blueness of the sky. 

*****

The chill of the evening back at Daere took R'ven by surprise. The warmth of
the wastes had spoilt him and he shivered in the dusk.

As Zenith landed he was bombarded with dragon's telling him how Flerrion's
rider had managed to get through to Jadain and that the young boy was going
to be fine.

*I thought you'd like to know that Jadain is out of danger. That new rider
helped repair the damage that he sustained when he found the bodies.*

*That's good news.* R'ven wanted to sound more enthusiastic but the day had
been draining and he still wanted more answers. *You go and find a cuddle
partner, Zen. I want to have another look round Dyran's apartment.*

"R'ven, let it go! She's dead! They're dead! There isn't anything you can do!*

Anger built up inside of him and R'ven snapped at his dragon, *Don't you
think I know that!? *I* need to know what happened. I'm the one  that is
going to have to make a report to Jayleigh and whoever else is involved in
this sorry mess. Dyran was landbound; Dy was a dragon rider. He's dead and
she's missing. You know what that means, don't you? The authority in Tinobal
will want an inquiry. I have to find the evidence to prove that he killed
his daughter, himself and Dyanisa. Otherwise she will be found guilty of
murder and I for one know damn well she couldn't have done it!*

Zenith nodded his large head, *Ok, R'ven. You go and dig up your ghosts of
guilt. Because that's what it is. Guilt. You feel guilty because you won her
in a mating flight and you didn't have anything to do with her afterwards.
You wear that cloak so well I'm too tired to bother to try and help remove
it for you. So you go and search for the answers that you know won't be there.*

With that Zenith lifted his great bulk from the land and rose into the
darkening sky. He needed some light entertainment and sort out that young
crimson hatching toy of Troy's.

*****

He stood in the doorway. Light from the candle flickered on the walls,
casting eerie shadows. Silently he crept into the room. The bloody body of
the healer now gone, taken, presumably, by Lorish down to the stone morgue.
He shuddered and faltered as he made his way past the place where Dyran had
fallen in death.  There were still odd spots of crimson on the carpet. 

He lit lanterns,  illuminating the interior. It looked normal, but still
R'ven felt uneasy.  Blowing out the candle, he lifted one of the lamps and
walked into the bedroom. Systematically he searched the healers belongings
in the hopes he could find some clue as to what had happened.

He found a small leather bound book in a draw next to the bed. Staring down
at it, R'ven swallowed hard. He turned it over in his hands several times,
then cast it onto the bed. Pacing around the room, he was continually drawn
back to it. He knew what it was. Dyran's diary.
Part of him wanted to pick it up and burn it. The other part wanted to read
what was inside. 

Picking the slim book up, he slid it inside his jacket and continued his
search of the apartment.  

He stood for long moments on the threshold of Dyanisa's room. Breathing
deeply he could still smell her. 

There he found it. A small wooden carving of a woman. He turned it over in
his hands, caressing the tactile surface.  Looking down at the features, he
gasped. It was Dyanisa!


*******

Leaving the apartment, R'ven could hear the music and laughter coming from
the dining hall. He was in no mood for gaiety.

Wrapping his jacket tightly around his body, he walked briskly over to the
apartment he shared with Tair'n.

Opening the door, R'ven undid his leathers and, taking them off, he threw
the jacket onto a chair.  He wandered  to the kitchen and opening the cooler
took out a bottle of wine. 
Pulling the cork out he poured a large glass of the golden liquid, taking a
sip as he walked back into the sitting room. He placed the glass on the
table and slumped down on the sofa. Leaning back he ran his fingers through
his hair and let out a deep sigh.

"I didn't hear you come in."

Looking up R'ven smiled at his mate's pale face.

"Looks like you could do with a drink, Tai," he said as he got to his feet
and hugged his lover.




R'ven and the scaly  prankster.


nrpg:

Bridget, let me know what you want R'ven to find in the diary.

Lyn, hope this ending didn't cock anything up you had planned

all, sorry this is long and boring. Took longer to write too *sigh*


*hugs*

Lea
>



















"Lust is pure. 'Tis Love, Lust's little sister, that is tainted."