[Afternoon, Day 8]

<snip>

He frowned, trying to remember the right Jakka words.  He spoke slowly, not
sure if he was pronouncing things correctly, "::Greetings, sister, how is
your trade?  How are your family?::"

Aitzan looked up at the tall sailor, surprise evident in her eyes.  She
spoke too quickly in a dialect he was not familiar with, and only caught
about two or three words, one being "storm" and the other "alone".

He shook his head, "::Not fast!::" he said.

Aitzan frowned and began again.  This time Corwin was able to understand
that her shipmates, correcting his misuse of the similar sounding word for
"family," and their ships had been lost in a storm, though not everything
she said.

<end snip>

She trailed off as she saw his face go from intent to confused when she
tried to tell him about the battle that had put her ships in such straits.
In the small silence, she also realized she was being very rude.

"::I am sorry, Brother,::" she apologized formally, lowering her eyes,
touching her fingers to her lips.  "::I have been rude.  I am called Aitzan
Enno Shou Laami.::"

"::Rude?  No... but I am glad to know how you are called.  I am called
Corwin.  I have no ship anymore, but may I claim Jasra Warren, and rider of
Syngnath::?"

 She blinked at him, covering her confusion by picking her hair out of her
mouth,  "::Rider of what:::?"

"Of Syngnath.."  He frowned as he noticed the utter lack of comprehension in
her face.  "My...my.. dragon" he settled on finally, unable to come up with
a similiar word in Jakka

"D-lagon?" Aitzan repeated, not recognizing the word.  But it didn't take
much thinking to figure out what it was, she hadn't seen these people ride
anything else in her time here.  "Gea'te?" she asked.  She made flying
motions with her hands, or tried to anyways before the wind came up and
tangled her hair around them.

"Gea'te?" Corwin asked not recognizing the word.  A movement caught his eye
and he glanced up, spotting one of the creatures in question.  "Dragon!" he
pointed towards the sky.

Aitzan craned her head back and got a faceful of hair for her trouble, only
catching the barest glimpse of the beast.  Despite her determination not to
cry, her eyes went moist as she clawed at her face, trying to clear her hair
away.

When she finally managed to meet his eyes, she saw.. something in them,
pity, or maybe sympathy, but they were wonderfully.. understanding she
decided.  Amazing how eyes the color of water could look so warm.

Corwin suddenly realized how alone she was.  She didn't even have anyone to
braid her hair, as he knew was customary for the Jakka.  "::May I help?::"
he asked compassionately, gesturing towards her hair.

Aitzan resisted the sudden urge to kiss him and nodded.

She sat in front of him and gazed out at the open water, as Corwin swiftly
separated her hair into smaller segments.  He was used to working with ropes
and lines, and easily began braiding her hair.

"::May I ask a favor?::" she ventured, trying to hold her head still.

"::Of course.::"

"::Could you...::" she licked her lips, embarrassed and ashamed to have to
ask him.  Yet it didn't seem like she had much choice.  She took a deep
breath and plowed on.  "::Could you help me learn the tongue of these
people?::"

"::I would be very happy to, Aitzan,::" he answered kindly, finishing the
braid and twisting bits of dried seaweed together at the ends to hold it in
place.

He flipped the finished braid over her shoulder and leaned forward, placing
his hands near her neck, as if to assure her that he hadn't left.
"::Better?::" he asked near her ear.  She turned, aching with the need not
to feel so alone.

"::Almost,::" she whispered softly, turned and kissed him, keeping her hands
to herself for the moment.

For the barest instant, surprise kept him from responding to her soft lips
and questioning eyes.  Of its own accord, his mouth began to respond, no
part of him touching her except his lips, and after a moment, his tongue.

The kiss broke off naturally and they searched each others eyes, making sure
this was what they really wanted.  Her heart swelled with relief as a smile
stole across his mouth.

"::Two sailors alone in port...::" Corwin commented with an amused glint in
his ocean eyes.

"::With no ships to tear them apart,::" she responded with her own
mischievous grin.

He shucked his vest into the sand so they could start out on somewhat even
footing and kissed her again.  Their hands were set loose this time, given
free rein to try to ease the lonely aches in their hearts.

**********************
[Mid morning, Ismene warren  Day 10]

It was the quintisential autumn day; crisp, breezy, a day to feel alive
despite the decidedly brownish tinge to the green and the half bare
vegetation.  A day to enjoy, not play escort to a witch of a queenrider.
But Sh'ryton was not stupid enough to say so, not with Vignette nearby.

<Tell me again how we got this job?> he asked his red dragon.

<Because Lynio's rider is hurt, so we don't have a patrol partner,> Maryaht
answered frankly.

Sh'ryton rolled his eyes at his all too literal dragon waited for the two
queenriders to finish talking.  When the witch finally headed to her loaded
down dragon, he set off to intercept her.

"I know how to teleport, Sh'ryton," the diminuitive queenrider said just as
he was going speak.

Witch, he thought as he bit his tongue on what he was going to say.  He
watched her, and his mother's stories about the beautiful water fairies that
would seduce men along their river banks and drown them came unbidden into
his mind.

<It's very hard to drown in the air, Sh'ryton.  Can we hurry this up
already?>

He was thankful Inagua was to busy mounting to see him blush as he turned
and ran back to his dragon.  Moments later, both dragons took to the sky.
He held the image of Jasra in the forefront of his mind, making sure that
his dragon was passing it on to the queen.

<Myacura says she has it and is waiting for your signal,> Maryaht informed
him.

Sh'ryton nodded to himself, raised his arm and abrubtly brought it down.

The two dragons, one red, the other metalic silver and black, disappeared
from Ismene skies.

Only one reappeared over Jasra.

Sh'ryton's curses could be heard nearly the entire way to the ground.

*****************************
[Noonish, on the Ismene border]

Her tongue snaked nervously over chapped lips, briefly tasting salt from the
sweat on her upper lip.  Her eyes saw nothing; she might have been a statue
but for the rise and fall of her chest, the ocassional twitch of a finger
against the riding straps.  But the feel of everyone of her queen's
wingstrokes through her thighs was slowly crumbling the fragile tower of her
confidence.  They reminded her all too vividly of what she risked.

Her practical side also pointed out that doubt was as dangerous as anything
else.  Doubt made for hesitation and that led to mistakes.  She could afford
neither.  Despite everything, she was surprised to find she had no wish to
die.

Though, judging by the current degree of her headache, she likely would
soon.

It was time to cast the dice and pray they rolled lucky.  Inagua mentally
articulated what it was she wanted; a nearby magic pocket big enough to hold
Myacura and strong enough not to break their fragile bond.

Three choices promptly appeared on her mental map... except they felt more
like possible inkblots then properly drawn symbols.  Only half there,
dreamy, hazy.. confusing as hell.  Panic quivered faintly in her gut, no
place had *ever* been uncertain before; a place was either there or it was
not.  Even when it was too far away to pin point, she could always tell that
it existed, that it was *real.*

A horrible expression somewhere between a scowl and pure terror contorted
her delicate features as she struggled to calmly considered the situation.
Before she could even form a thought of a hypothesis, one of her options
abruptly vanished.

Terror won.  She fought down the bile that rose in her throat as thoughts of
what would happen if she had choosen that one played out a sorrid little
show in her head.

<I have the image of this Jasra place in my mind, if anything goes wrong,> a
quiet voice intruded, breaking up the ugly little daymare.  <I trust you,>
the gentle queen added as an after thought.

<Your crazier then I am then,> Inagua retorted sharply and regretted it.
Being nasty didn't do her a wit of good.

Another pocket disappeared from her mind.  Wasting time accomplished even
less.  It was time to choose; and none of her choices were pleasant.
Unbelievable humiliation and possibly permant grounding awaited her at
Ismene; weeks of indescribable agony and disorientation would be her reward
if she simply teleported to Jasra right now; or a few days of headaches and
likely a very good scolding if she continued making her short hops but that
was only if she succeeded.  If she failed, death... or worse.

Inagua chose to go on and felt an old friend descend upon her, a frigid,
unflappable calm.  A soft sigh escaped her as her very soul seemed to freeze
and go numb.  With an amazingly clear mind, she took a deep breath and got
down to work.

Unable to think of any other approach to the problem, she bullied her
finding sense into focusing completely on her destination.  Ever so slowly,
under the force of her will, the inkblot revealed itself to be a faded
symbol, not particularily clear, but almost undeniably there.

<Mya,> she managed to think without losing her focus on the place.  <I think
this is as good as it's gon->

They teleported.

In the micro-instant that it took for one desolate piece of sky to be
replaced by a nearly identical one, red hot pokers seemed to sear through
her brain.  And then they were there and pokers turned out to be hot steam,
leaving her head only marginally more painful then it had been before that
teleport.

And the blasted place still felt fuzzy for some reason.

<The magic is less here.  Strong enough, but barely,> Myacura informed her
worriedly.  <Perhaps we should move on quickly?>

Quickly...  Persing her lips, she started the whole process over again,
taking only enough time to wipe the sweat from her eyes as she worked,
trusting to pure instinct to pick the right pocket.  Quickly, she could try,
only would it be quickly enough?

**************************
[Sunset, Haven]

"Benyo! Benyo! Look! I got un!" Balindora shrieked exuberantly, brandishing
the stunned frog before her like she was trying to stab something with it.

"Yes, Balda," Benyome laughed, looking up from his section of weeds and mud.
The frog croaked pathetically and he waded over to rescue it from four year
old enthusiasm.

"Why don't we put him in the basket," the tuber filled, lidded basket swung
forward, "so he won't get away?"

"No!"  The frog emitted another croak as it was crushed to Balindora's
chest.  "Mine! My fwoggy!"

He winced and tried again.  "But if you put him in here, Balda, he can eat
all th-"

"Dwagon!!" Balindora exclaimed, dropping her frog as she pointed above and
behind him.

Caught gaping like a guppy, he struggled to turn in the muck, wondering if
there was a giant salamander behind him.  Brown eyes widened slightly as
they made out the soaring beast in the hazy light and obstructing water
plants.

"Dwagon! Dwagon!" Balindora repeated excitedly, making her way through the
mud so she could see it better.

Amused at the child's fearless zeal and more then a little curious, Benyome
followed, lurching towards dry land.

Balindora beat him to shore and, to his dismay, took off like an arrow from
the string, still shrieking for all she was worth.

"Balindora come back here!" he commanded, trying to pick up the pace and
landing face first in the mud for his effort.

"Gods damn it!" he spluttered, scrambling to his feet.  "Balindora, come
here right now!"

Distant shouts of "Dwagon! Dwagon!" were his only answer.  He stopped
shouting, it was like yelling at a rock, and concentrated on catching the
girl.
*******

Myacura was more intent on not squashing her.

She swerved to the left as fast as her weary wings would allow, but an
ackward glance below her showed that by the time she was ready to touch
down, the human hatchling would be right under her again.

Humans were so very odd sometimes.  Her children had certainly possessed a
great deal more sense then this at their hatching.  And dragons certainly
weren't this noisy either.

Briefly she considered her options, and discarded nearly all of them.
Another teleport was far too risky, even one just a ways down the lake.
Landing farther down was nearly feasable, except for the trees in the way.
Nor did she want to land near the only other large clearing that she could
see, not when it was full of wagons and humans.  Landing on the lake itself
was completely out of the question; 'Naga couldn't swim a stroke.

Movement caught her eye and the solution to her dilema presented itself in a
muddy young boy with a basket.  She couldn't restrain a fervent <Thank you,>
as he snatched the female hatchling and scurried out of the way.  She didn't
notice the peculiar look the boy shot at her as she concentrated on forcing
her aching wings to backwing properly for a soft landing.  'Naga's head felt
like it was about to split as it was and she'd suffer along with her rider
if she made it worse with a hard landing.

Pure determination briefly overpowered the agonizing head pain and
exhuastion from her rider and a moment later, the riding straps slapped
against her sides.  She snorted in surprise as Naga's impact with the ground
sent her head reeling painfully, and managed to look back.

Her rider trembled like a fall leaf, hunched over and clutching at her
skull, gasping, tears leaking from her closed eyes.  Worry set even deeper
in her soul.  It was not the worse her rider had looked, but it wasn't the
best either.  And here there was no warren to help.

The boy moving towards them caught her eye and his empty arms was the only
warning she had as the noisey human hatchling rammed into her foot,
clutching it in her small arms with all her might.

<*My dragon! Mine! Balda's dragon!*> burst into her head, earning a blink of
stunned astonishment from emerald eyes.

<Hatchling... I already have a rider,> she explained gently.

<*My dragon!*> was the adament response.

Mya sighed with resignation and let it pass.  Her rider was stubborn, but
this little girl had her beat by far.  A sudden feeling of irritation
prompted her to look over her shoulder to where the boy was helping Inagua
sit down.

<What's wrong?> she asked, careful to avoid bumping the girl attatched to
her leg.

<The boy is an idiot that's what, asking me if I'm all right.  Do I look all
right to you?  And if someone does shut that little brat up I'll throw
myself in the lake, by the Gods I will!> Inagua snarled mentally.

Myacura was amazed, she hadn't thought 'Naga actually had the energy to be
angry.  But she hoped her rider could at least hide it a little. <'Naga,
please be nice to these people.  You need their help.  I'll see what I can
do about the hatchling, though she seems very.... strong willed.>

<Hatchling...> she managed to get out before the child detatched itself from
her leg and turned around.  Mya followed the childs gaze and inwarddly
cringed.

<*Mama! Papa! Look a' my dragon!*>

A crowd of people, likely from the wagons, was rushing towards them, armed
with swords and bows.  Mya stuck her head in the lake and started drinking,
trying to look as helpless as possible.

<*Balindora Savres, get over here right now!*>  The queen nearly choked on a
swallow of water at the shout in her head.  What was going on?

Still spluttering, she turned and saw a heavy set woman rushing her, red in
the face, skirts held high.

<*NO!*> the hatchling shrilled, reattatching herself to Mya's leg.

<*Troublesome child,*> the woman mumbled, like she was talking to herself.
Then louder, <*Ever so sorry about her, Madam Dragon.  I'll get her off you
right quick...*>

<That's quite all->

<*No, no, my little Balindora can be such a pest, a little flea.  It will
only take a moment..*>

The woman proceded to prove her word was good by grabbing the child around
the waist, yanking for all she was worth.  The child suddenly let go and the
woman landed hard on her bottom.

<*There now, see?*> the woman annouced as she picked herself up from the
ground, the wailing and kicking child firmly under one arm.   <*Now I'll
just have my Deln carry your rider, poor dear looks utterly worn out, and
we'll take her right on home and put her straight to bed.  Though by the
look of her, it wouldn't hurt to feed her first.  Doesn't the dear ever eat?
All skin and bones, that she is.  But don't worry your pretty head about
her, I'll take fine care of her.*>

Mya blinked in astonishment, as the woman continued to babble on while she
got everyone in order.  Inagua was carried off and the whole crowd of people
herded back to the wagons.

<*So sorry about the trouble, deary.  Now if you need anything, just give a
nice roar and Elsi will take care of everything,*> the large woman informed
her with a kindly backwards glance before she disappeared behind the reeds.

<Thank you!> Mya finally managed to insert, swishing her tail in amused
bewilderment.

Humans were dreadfully strange creatures sometimes.
****************

NRPG: Inagua will likely show up sometime during Day 10.  If any searchers
would like to find her, feel free.  But they shouldn't get their hopes up
that she'll go along with them, cause she won't. :)  For any who are
wondering where Haven is, it's on the Lost DLands map, and is a stable
pocket roughly halfway between Ismene and Jasra.

Respectfully Submitted,
Bridget Olson
Aitzan
Inagua and Myacura
Benyome, Balindora, Elsi Savres and caravan