*Just after sunset in Jasra, Day 10*

The world swayed, shadows blurred, oblivion beckoned invitingly...

Inagua locked her knees and blinked determinedly, forcing the shadows to
briefly refocused into a man-shaped silhouette,  bending.. no bowing..

"My lady Inagua, it is good to see you. I trust you are well?"

Her fingers clenched convulsively as his voice reverbated painfully, yet
familiarly, in her throbbing skull.  A pained wimper was converted into a
quavering "Who?"

He moved closer, putting his hands on her arms to steady her.  "I'm
Mc'Key, Inagua," he said softly.

Her lips formed the name soundlessly, it was familiar, from.. Geode.  He
was from Geode and that was very, very bad, though she was far too tired
to dredge up exactly why.

"I think we'd better get you to the Med Center," he said softly.

"No, Mya first."

"Very well," he agreed, and after a moment, another dragon landed nearby.
With the new one leading the way, the two dragons lumbered off.

Her knees choose at that moment to totally revolt against continued abuse
and Mc'key's hands were the only thing keeping her from falling on her
face. Gently, he picked her up, cradling her like a child.  She was asleep
before he had taken two steps.

************************
*Day 11, Mid Morning, Med Center*

A body couldn't sleep forever and neither could Inagua.  She lay their
blinking at the strange room, giving her brain time to warm up while she
took stock.  The headache was still there, but hardly a twinge compared to
last night, and other wise, she seemed to be in one piece.  Her stomache
chimed in about then, she threw back the light sheet with a sigh.  Being
lazy was all well and fun, but not when you were hungry.

<Morning 'Naga,> Myacura greeted cheerfully.

<Morning.> Inagua returned, pulling on her pants, which some kind soul had
cleaned and left on the chair.  <How are you?>

<Wonderful!  It's so beautiful here, and Vasleth has been showing me the
ocean and telling me all about home and->

<Home? As in Geode home?  And who's Vasleth?> She reached for her shirt,
wondering why the name was so familiar.

<Yes, Geode.  Vasleth and Kikeane just came from there yesterday.>

<From Geode...>

Inagua sat down heavily on the bed.  It was like a nightmare.. Why
couldn't she ever get away from it?  Did every sin she had ever committed
have to follow her to the ends of the earth and back?  Would she ever have
any peace at all?

<My rider, what's wrong?> Mya asked softly.

<Nothing.>  She had been hiding her thoughts from her dragon so long, it
had become a habit.  <Just the weather, it's too hot.>

<It is much better out here.  Why don't you go get something to eat?>

<I think I will.>  Sighing, Inagua got up from the bed and walked out of
the room.

If she hadn't already figured she was in the Med Center, the smell alone
would have dismissed any doubt.  She made it halfway down the hallway
before a Healer stopped her.

"You must be Inagua, right?" a short, muscular man asked.

"Yeah," she answered, eyes looking more in the direction of his waist then
face.

"I'm Raleon, a healer here.  How are you feeling?"

"Hungry, but otherwise fine."

"Well, I'm going to give you a quick examination just to be sure, all
right?  By then your guide should be here to show you around."

Inagua shrugged agreement and let him lead her into a small room.  The
whole affair only took a couple minutes, before the healer gave her leave
to go.  She turned into the main hallway leading out and nearly tripped
over her own feet in surprise.

Mc'Key?  Inagua took another closer look at the man leaning against the
wall.  There was no mistaking it, it was Mc'Key, Vasleth's rider, from
Geode.  A part of her couldn't seem to decide whether she wanted to weep
with despair or scream in fury at the Gods at the unfairness of it all.

Inagua buried it all with a deep breath and continued down the hall as
unobtrusively as possible, hoping he wasn't supposed to be her 'guide.'

Mc'Key shoved himself off the wall when he caught sight of her.  Her teeth
ground together in annoyed despair; he obviously had been waiting for her.
Wonderful.

Inagua kept walking and bit her tongue on a rather nasty comment as he
came to walk beside her.

"Good morning, my lady," he said gallantly.  She wondered if that lover of
his, what's her name, had managed to turn his brain to mush.  Since when
had she ever been a lady?  "You look much better today."

"What do you want, Mc'Key?"

"Why merely the pleasure of your company?" he joked lightly.

She let him know his attempt at humor was completely unsuccessful with a
brief, yet utterly scathing glare.  He looked away first, flushing
slightly, and she returned her gaze to table-top level feeling slightly
more in control of the situation.

She was hot, hungry, still in the grips of a mild headache, and possessing
very limited patience.  Inagua got right to the point.  "You're Tara's
little watch dog, aren't you?"

He cleared his throat, "No... she simply asked me to make sure you.. get
the greatest benefits possible from your vacation."

"Uh huh, which translates as "the murdering queenrider's nanny," right? As
I remember, Phaedra gave you and your mate the same assignment back home.
Perhaps a new master to pet your head will spur you to better efforts than
the old-- By the God's Breath," she gasped as they stepped outside into
the late morning sunshine.  Inagua could almost feel her skin start to
burn beneath fresh beads of sweat.  "Is it always this hot?"

"Hotter in the summer I've heard."  She could hear the satisfaction at her
dismay in his voice and decided to ignore it.  He had likely never been
sunburned so bad he had been sick for a week, and that had been from a
Geode summer.

Inagua switched direction mid step and headed for the tailor shop.  Food
could wait, it wouldn't be the first time she'd gone without.  For an
entire three steps she was alone until Mc'Key caught up.

"Hope your reflexes're faster against wraiths," she murmured under her
breath, but loud enough for him to understand.  His teeth were definately
grinding that time.  Savoring the minor victory, she held her tongue, and
he did the same, until they reached the shop.

The shade was a welcome relief from the outside, and she stared half-blind
at the interior until her eyes adjusted to the dimmer light.  Racks and
displays of cool looking clothes abbounded; there wasn't a half decent
coat in sight.  Looking at it all, she resigned herself to the fact that
Mc'Key had been right, it really was this hot all the time here.

Inagua had been told that it was warmer here.  But Ismene was way warmer
than Geode and it still had a winter, a very wimpy winter, but still
winter.  So she had brought autumn clothes, but unless she wanted to get
heat stroke, she was going to need a new wardrobe.  A damn lot of trouble
for a few weeks vacation.

A tall skinny man who seemed to made up entirely of knees, elbows, big
feet, huge hands, and a beaky nose, came out from the back room.  "Oh,
hello there," he almost gushed.  "How may I help you?"

Inagua, who rarely looked anyone in the eye, was immediately drawn to this
odd looking man's hands.  His simple introduction some how became a
graceful, gestured dance that was absolutely fascinating.  

"Lady Inagua, rider of Queen Myacura, has need of your services," Mc'Key
intoned.

She could have slapped him.  The last thing she needed was everyone
calling her my lady this, my lady that.  Especially a man who almost
managed to make a simple greeting sound like some ground shaking emotional
statement.  

"My lady," he bowed, his hands doing another elaborate performance.  "The
humble shop of Luccin Piestro is honoured-"

"Fine," Inagua broke in impatiently.  His hands possitively drooped with
disappointment so she threw in an quick, "thanks," before getting to the
point.  "I need some clothes."  

Luccin's hands began twitching as they prepared for another finger ballet.
She plowed on before he could get started.  "Specifically," Inagua began
moving towards the piles of pre-made clothing on a table, "loose, long
sleeved shirts and pants of either grey, undyed, beige, or white cotton.
Oh," she pulled out a few likely prospects from the pile.  "I also need a
hat.  A nice shady hat like that straw one over there, that would be
nice."

"But my lady!" Luccin protested, gushing horror with every sylable.  "It
is not proper for you to walk about in.. in peasant clothes!"

"Why not?" she asked rhetorically.  She wasn't particularily interested in
his answer.

"Because it simply isn't!  Why not let me design something more befitting
your status?  A saphire color would look lovely with your complextion, or
perhaps an emerald?"

"Thank you, no.  If you'll excuse me, I need to try these on."  She strode
into the changing room, ignoring the sounds of the scandalized tailors
efforts to persuade Mc'Key to join his cause.  Foolish man.

The shirt and pants, both undyed cotton, fit exactly right, loose and
baggy.  Inagua put on her belt, folded her old clothes and walked out,
snatching the straw hat and, careful not to let Mc'Key or Luccin see, the
cloth one beneath it, confronted the two men.

The cloth hat invisibly made its way into her pocket and she shoved her
old clothes at the tailor.  "Have these sent with the clothes I ordered,
in these sizes please," she fingered the shirt, "to my apartment."  Inagua
wasn't exactly sure where that was yet, but it shouldn't be hard for the
tailor to find out.

"Yes, my lady," Luccin agreed mournfully.

She gave him a nod of thanks and made for the door, Mc'Key following.

Appropriately attired in much cooler, if definately less fashionable
clothing, Inagua tied on her new straw hat and set out to find some food.
She was famished

The dining hall was crowded with people in for lunch and she felt
impatient just looking at the line.  Still, there was nothing for it, but
to stand in it and wait, Mc'key, naturally, only a step behind.  It moved
fairly quickly as far as lines went and soon enough they reached the food.

Her appetite abruptly deserted her.  A nudge in the back from Mc'Key broke
her horrified stare at the plethera of seafood before her and got her
moving again.

"What's the matter?" he asked, filling up his plate.

"I *despise* seafood," Inagua hissed, wishing the line would move faster.
If she had to stare at this much fish for much longer she was going to be
sick.  Of course, if she didn't eat at all she'd likely get sicker, so she
stayed in the line.  The table full of breads, fruits, and vegetables a
bit farther down was a relief, and she piled it on.

Inagua barely made it two steps to towards the table with wine and beer
before a hand grabbed her arm.  She jerked free as if she had been burned,
loose grapes rolling off her plate, and glared openly at the offender,
none other than her shadow for the day, Mc'Key.

"They won't give you anything," he stated before she could make a sound.
He didn't meet her eyes, likely because he'd loose that sort of contest.

"Who won't give me what?" Inagua snapped, wishing he would meet her gaze
so she have the small satisfaction of making him look away.

"The servers," he still avoided looking at her.  "Actually everybody, they
won't give you any alcohol.  Tara's orders.  She said Jasra is a.. a 'dry
warren' for you, no drinking."

"Really."  He would have had to have a suicide wish to meet her eyes right
then.  Her tone was about as warm as a glacier north wind.  "Well, then."    
She went and got a glass of water and, straw hat flapping against her
back, went to find an empty seat.

[NRPG: Tag anyone?]
****************************
*Aitzan*

The ocean called to here, urging her to court it, cajolling with the harsh
sea bird cries, the rush and splash of the surf, the whistling breeze
through spray sculped rocks.  Yet no matter how badly she yearned to strip
of her pants and dance with the waves, she wasn't that stupid.  Not when
her cuts and scrapes were only half healed. Aitzan had learned a long time
ago that cuts and salt water were only to be mixed when absolutely
necessary.  So she was confined to prowling the beach like a caged beast,
easing her boredom, grief, and lonliness as best she could.

For most of the morning, Aitzan had watched the repairs on the ship with
some interest.  It was something familiar, something she knew and
understood, something she could do.  But she hadn't been stupid enough to
offer her help, though she had spotted Corwin's large figure on board.
The injured ship was subtlely different from those she was familiar with
and, since she couldn't understand, she would just be in the way.

It was almost exactly like last night at the party.  A sailor was a
sailor, and Aitzan had had instantly recognized the crowd that had
gathered around Corwin.  Being a sailor herself, she had also known
exactly what her intermittent translator had been doing.  Telling wildly
exagerated tales with great skill if his attentive audience was any
indication.  And no matter how much she had longed to join and listen in,
she couldn't.  It wouldn't have been fair to Corwin or his listeners.  So
she had contented herself with some fairly mild dancing and drinking 
before leaving early to feel sorry for herself on the beach.

A rock flew from her hand and skipped three times before sinking.  She
seemed to doing a lot of that lately, feeling sorry for herself.  Aitzan
shook her head, and picked up another rock, this time fitting it into her
sling and whirring it around.

She didn't like feeling sorry for herself, it wasn't something that came
very naturally to her, but she just couldn't seem to help it.  The people
at this warren place were all very kind and such, but about as
approachable as a reef when you had a deep keel.  Corwin couldn't be there
all the time, and he wasn't wonderfully fluent anyways, so the only other
creature she had to talk to was the damn lizard.  Her problem was that she
was lonely, but she couldn't think of anyway to fix it.    

With a frustrated grunt, Aitzan let the rock fly, watching it skip a few
times before disappearing beneath the surface.  Putting her sling away,
she continued her restless stroll until the sounds of voices further down
made her pause.  Did she really want to meet them?

Shrugging, Aitzan decided that she did, there really wasn't any other way
to cure lonliness that she could think of.  And if her grasp of their
language was embarrassingly small, practice was the only way it would get
better.  So resolved, Aitzan followed the voices.

But when she finally caught sight of another human through a break in the
rocks, he was alone.  Alone.... and naked.  A knowing grin tugged at the
corners of her mouth and she quickened her pace, hoping to get a closer
look before he covered up all the good parts.  It didn't take a genius to
figure out what he had been up to.

Stalking him like some sort of prey, Aitzan crept closer and managed to
get a nice long look from behind some rocks at his firm, nicely rounded,
rather cute, if incredibly pale, butt.  Then he pulled his pants up and
Aitzan sighed softly with regret.  Still, nothing like a nice butt to make
a woman feel playful and perky.

Grinning wickedly, Aitzan crept from behind her looking place and, as he
was pulling his shirt over his head, leapt towards him and jabbed him
right below the ribs.

He jumped into the air, yelping like a monkey that just got its tail
stepped on, and spent several moments trying to untangle himself from his
shirt.

Aitzan fell into the sand, giggling gleefully, in a good mood for the
first time in days.

He finally straightened himself out and turned to look at her, anger
turning to stunned surprise as he spluttered, "Aitzan!"

"Hello, Ed'wen," she said, grinning widely.  She rose to her knees and
patted her bottom, then pointed to him and said in a very suggestive tone,
"Nice, nice."

The vivid red his face managed to achieve was enough to start her giggling
again.  Perhaps language wasn't all that necessary for the important
things after all.

[NRPG: Tag Dana :)]

**********
Submitted by,
Bridget Olson
Inagua and Myacura
Aitzan