"The Great Queen believes you dead. Malachite has assumed your position. But
then again, he is the only one of the Old High youma left. The Great Queen
moves the Dark Forces in preparation for invasion for The Dark Presence has
told her that it will have enough power soon."

 "Zoicite is dead then?" He asked for confirmation as Mender rose to get the
fur blanket.

 "Yes, struck down by the Great Queen herself in her fury at his attempt to
kill her Chosen Consort. She forbade Malachite to bring Zoicite here. I heard
it took him a full day to die. So instead, Malachite sent a flood of lesser
youma to me as he vented his anger and his grief."

 Mender didn't know that the Rainbow crystals had been united back into the
Silver Imperium Crystal as the Moon Princess had awakened or that Endymion
was the Queen's Chosen Consort. Or that the other part of the reason Beryl
had killed Zoicite was for allowing that awakening to happen and had
forbidden Malachite to reveal any trace of that knowledge to the other youma,
fearing that it would weaken their wills.

 His Gift for Far Seeing had seemingly fled when he had let himself be taken
by the Darkness, the last thing that it had shown him was the reincarnation
of Althea appearing a thousand years later in the Dark Kingdom with the High
youma who had been Nathan in desperate need of help. Help that he had given
his soul to be there to provide.

 In truth, he really didn't remember much about his past life as the mortal
Innish at all or the events that changed it, most of those memories being
wiped away when the Darkness took possession of his soul. The one thing he
had concentrated on keeping with him were his memories of Althea, his love
for her and the need to be there to help her when she came. He remembered
Nathan as a vague impression, someone who was bound to her also by love, but
not much else.

 Nephlyte lifted Aurora so Mender could arrange the fur beneath her, realized
he understood how Malachite must have felt as he began to understand the bond
between the two High youma that he had always thought of as nothing but a
foolish and shallow affectation. He imagined he would kill anything in range
for quite some time if Aurora died.

 "Tell me about the Chosen Consort." He asked with a touch of curiosity as he
helped wrap the fur around Aurora's cooling body. He thought about moving
them to the wall so he could lean against it.

 Shadow-spawn saw the High youma shift and straighten uncomfortably, sensed
his weariness and understood his unwillingness to give up Aurora's weight
against his chest.

 Nephlyte froze, eyes narrowed as the big youma moved toward them. Mender
appeared totally unconcerned as he towered over them for a moment, lowered
his head and flicked his tongue against Aurora's cheek, then stepped behind
him, those big hooves too close for his comfort. He almost flinched as
Shadow-spawn lowered himself settling close enough for him to lean back
against his warm side.

 He did, cautiously, as Shadow-spawn snaked his neck around to rest his
muzzle on one outstretched foreleg. Nephlyte looked at the youma in
puzzlement. Shadow-spawn stared back, the white glow of his eyes seeming to
be full of amusement. He yawned displaying all of his fangs then his eyelids
closed and he heaved a great sigh letting the breath out as little puffs of
steam, moving Nephlyte forwards a bit by the distention of his ribcage.

 Mender almost laughed out loud as he watched Shadow-spawns by-play with the
High youma and Nephlyte's astounded reaction. He covered his amusement by
answering the question.

 "I don't know much about him. I have never seen him. Zoicite almost killed
him when he was still a Son of Man and the Great Queen took him before the
Dark Presence Itself for healing and baptism into the Darkness. They say he
is a powerful High youma and will pass even the Seven Shadows of lore when he
comes into his full power. So now, Nephlyte, you are caught up on the news
and Aurora is mending. Will you finish your own so you can take her from this
place as soon as possible?"

 Nephlyte nodded. "Soon. I will sit with her a little longer."

 Mender sighed in resignation as he rose. "I will bring you something to eat
then, to help fuel your healing."

 Nephlyte nodded again, rested his cheek against the top of her head, the
silk of her hair a soft tickle against his neck.

 Mender expected that the High youma would be asleep by the time he returned.
He glanced at the great double doors as he hurried to the kitchen, thought
about going to check and make sure they were securely closed. He had adjusted
the wards to allow Althea and Shadow-spawn free egress into and out of the
House and knew that earlier crash had been caused by Shadow-spawn kicking
open the doors in his panic to get Althea to him. But they appeared to be
intact and closed. He'd double check after he got Nephlyte back into the
pool, trusting to the reputation they had for being impenetrable for the
little while it would take if by some chance they were not.


***************************

 By the time Endymion's head cleared the youma and Shadow-spawn where gone.
He let out a yell of frustration, not believing that this had happened again.
He put his fingers to the pain at the side of his head, glared at the blood
that showed on them when he brought them down. First he would tend to this,
then he would hunt that youma and Shadow-spawn down. He summoned a Gate,
stepped into his own chambers in the Dark Fortress.

 The cut itself was small, maybe a half-inch but it hurt and he hissed as he
cleaned it then pressed a cloth against it to get it to stop bleeding. While
he waited, he tried to call a shadow to show him where the youma and
Shadow-spawn where. Nothing answered. He tried again. Still nothing answered.
He narrowed his eyes in thoughtful anger. The only youma he knew who was
powerful enough to hide them from him other than the Queen herself was
Malachite. But why would he do so? He checked the cloth, dabbed at the cut
one more time, then tossed it on the table as he left in search of Malachite
and some answers.


 Malachite studied the holograph-like map that covered the large table of his
workroom. It showed the slow advance of the dark blots that signified the
massing of youma toward the Zenith Gate in the Southern Wastes, another set
heading towards the High Gate in the Eastern plains. Everything was on
schedule and the armies would be in position within five days. Beryl had
chosen to use the fixed Gates again when she launched her invasion, for even
though they took a huge amount of energy to open, once they where activated
and focused she would be free to lead them through and at her full power
instead of having to wait and keep Summoned Gates open as her armies passed.

 Endymion flung open the door and stalked in. Malachite didn't bother to look
up as the Prince halted across the table from him, crossed his arms and
watched the map also.

 "What do you want, Endymion?" Malachite finally asked, wishing to be rid of
him. The slow throb of pain had already started up in his head. He had not
been able to get past the spell that Beryl had put on him, his efforts
resulting only in snatches of nightmares full of Zoicite and other vague
figures he did not recognize and a splitting headache whenever he had to deal
with Endymion for any length of time.

 "Who is this youma?"

 Malachite glanced up to the small flickering image standing on Endymion's
palm, returned his attention to the map as he shrugged. "I don't know."

 "Look again." Endymion's voice was full of angry challenge.

 Malachite raised his head slowly, one eyebrow cocked and a small smile of
cruel amusement on his lips, made a show of studying the image carefully. The
smile did not change as he absorbed the disturbing information from the image
and the young High youma glowering before him. The first thing was her
remarkable resemblance to Endymion, the second was the cut above Endymion's
right eyebrow and the rose of Endymion's power that was embedded in her side.
That she slipped past Endymion's guard enough to wound him and had taken that
wound in return yet had apparently escaped screamed High youma at him. Yet he
did not know her and that started a small knot of worry in his mind to join
the headache.

 He shrugged nonchalantly again, began hunting for information. "I don't
know. You should really find out the names of your playmates before you
decide to kill them."

 Endymion closed his fingers in an angry gesture, squeezing the image out of
existence. "You don't know." His voice dripped with disbelieving sarcasm.

 Malachite shook his head. "Sorry. Is there some reason I should?" He kept
his eyes on Endymion's face, knew he was weighing what and how much to tell
him.

 "She is Shadow-Spawn's rider."

 "Really?" Malachite echoed Endymion's earlier disbelief. "I have heard
rumors but have had no solid report. You saw her on his back?" He had
dismissed them as nothing but that, rumors, and had been too busy in
organizing the armies to check on it. As soon as he could get rid of Endymion
he would remedy that.

 "No." Endymion looked a little uncertain.

 "Then how do you know this youma rides him, Prince Endymion? Other than the
rumors of Lesser youma?"

 Endymion dismissed that with an angry shrug. "It doesn't matter. She
attacked me when I had Shadow-spawn trapped and now I can't find her." He
glared at Malachite, dared him to tell him she wasn't under his protection.

 "Ah, I see." Malachite gave a little derisive snort. "You assume that for
some reason she is under my protection and I have hidden her from you? Now
why would I do that, Prince Endymion? I protect no one but myself now. You
should know that."

 "Then you call a shadow and show me where she or Shadow-spawn are now." If
Malachite had hidden her he would have to refuse, for using his own power to
summon a shadow of their whereabouts would negate any spell he had thrown to
keep them from others' sight. He was surprised when the other High youma
sighed with a false put-upon patience.

 "If you insist and it will get you out of my way." He formed the image of
the horse-youma in his mind, told the shadows to find the image of where it
was now and show him. He frowned when nothing answered his summons. He tried
with the image of the female youma. Again, nothing answered. He narrowed his
eyes as Endymion stared at him with puzzlement. They both knew that he had
cast the spells truly.

 A Gate opened beside Endymion and their Queen's throaty purr rang through
it. "Endymion, come to me. I have something I wish you to do."

 "Where are they?" Endymion hissed at him.

 Malachite silenced him with a gesture. "The Queen summons you. I will look
into it and tell you what I find."

 Endymion's expression was guarded and full of suspicion as he nodded then
stepped through the Gate.

 Malachite made a slow circuit around the map table, only a small part of his
attention on the movements it showed. There where only two ways to avoid a
shadow. One was to leave the Dark Kingdom all together and he was certain
that High youma or not, their mystery female would not be able to summon a
trans-dimensional Gate so wounded by Endymion's power. The other was to be
resident in Mender's House of Pain.

 No one was quite sure how that youma had managed it, but somehow shadows
could not get out of his House. Nor could one open a Gate into or out of it.
The only way to get into Mender's house was through his front door and that
had enough wards on it to give even the Queen a problem getting through it if
Mender so chose to close it against her. It served a purpose, though,
creating a Sanctuary for youma who where too damaged to defend themselves
against their enemies.

 He also realized that Endymion would have no reason to know yet about Mender
or his House, Beryl using the pure Dark energies of the Presence Itself to
heal him when she had taken him. The youma did not speak openly about The
House of Pain out of fear and a strange respect. To all of them it was a
place of last resort used only when life itself was threatened, making the
pain of the healing pools worth any price Mender asked.

 Malachite knew beyond doubt that this was were the wounded youma he now
hunted had gone and for some reason Shadow-spawn had accompanied her. He went
through the adjoining door that led to his private chamber, pulled out a
beautifully carved box from a chest. He held it between his hands, his face
reflecting his loss and sorrow from the memories it summoned for a moment,
then he shook his head. His expression was hard and cold as he put the box on
the little table against the wall and opened it.

 He looked over the jewelry sparkling against the black silk lining. His hand
hovered over the magnificent dark blue ring that had been the first gift he
had given Zoicite, chose the lavender jade armlet shaped like a dragon
instead.  It had been Zoicite's favorite piece, worn only for him in the
privacy of this room. It would be a fitting offering to get him into Mender's
house. He could not bare to part with that ring. Not yet. Then he summoned a
Gate and had it leave him before Mender's door.

 He stepped up to it, raised the side of his fist, intending to give it a few
solid thumps. His blow stopped just short of connecting as he realized that
one side of the double door was just a hair's breath shy of being closed. He
smiled darkly. Stupid of Mender not to make sure his doors where shut.
Anything could just wander in.

 Malachite slipped through, shut the door firmly and slipped into the shadows
as he focused his vision to study the layers of wards that hung in the air
around him. He nodded to himself. Any attempt at concealment spells not of
Mender's casting would set them off. Well, he'd just have to be careful to
avoid the Master of the House. He moved stealthily, keeping to the shadows as
he worked his way down the hall, slipping into each chamber to check the
occupant of it's pool. Many were empty but he knew he'd find her.

*****************


 Nephlyte hadn't gone to sleep, even though his body demanded that relief. He
let Aurora's warm weight rest against him for a few more minutes then
carefully gathered her up so he could move, laid her back gently into the
warm hollow Shadow-spawn had created with his legs and body and made sure the
fur was tucked well around her. He ran his fingers down the curve of her face
tenderly, then straightened. He knew that the longer he stayed with her now
the longer she would have to stay here in the Darkness while he lay in the
pool.

 He had decided not to wait for Mender, but go back in now. He had just
pulled the shirt off and was tossing it to the table when the door opened. He
turned his head, expecting to see Mender. The two High youma stared at each
other in stunned shock.

 "You?!" Malachite snarled, a dark purple sphere of raw power forming in his
hand.

 Nephlyte tensed, ready to throw himself out of the way, heard Shadow-spawn's
angry hiss behind him and the sound of the youma surging to his feet. The
dark sphere winked out with a crackle as Malachite stumbled forwards and sunk
to one knee, Mender's heavy tray having just connected with the back of his
head with a solid 'thwack'.

 Malachite steadied himself with one hand against the wall the other to the
floor as the edges of his vision darkened, started to rise. Nephlyte laced
his fingers together, drew back and swung as hard as he could, putting all
his weight behind the blow, the back of his doubled fists catching Malachite
across the face as he pushed himself up and sending him back into the wall to
slump down unconscious.

 Nephlyte stepped back, his body quivering with anger, exhaustion and  a
little fear. *By the Darkness Itself, that was too close!*

 Mender 'tsk'-ed to himself as he narrowed his eyes and frowned, all the dire
possibilities of this encounter spinning through his mind. "Nephlyte, sit
down before you fall down, please."