O.K. This is very beta! Anything you'd like to say, positive or 
negative, please feel free! I need all the help I can get.


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	*Nephlyte!* That name throbbed in time with the pain in his head as 
Malachite's eyes snapped open. He took in his surroundings as he surged 
upright on the padded couch, somewhat surprised to discover that he was 
still alive. He fingered the knot on his head that was the source of 
throb. *Where in all the Worlds am I?*  The light filled room and it's 
heaps of treasures was incredible! Then his searching gaze found the 
youma sitting amid the fabulous clutter that surrounded its chair, so 
still that for a moment he thought it nothing more than another statue. 
Mender. The variegated grey youma grinned back and winked. Malachite 
stood slowly, eyed the shimmer in the air before him. Some kind of a 
binding ward surrounded the area of the couch. He narrowed his eyes, 
crossed his arms and drew himself up to his full height.

	"Release me, right now." He demanded.

	"No." Mender answered in an amused tone, propped his elbow on the arm 
of his chair and rested his chin in his hand as he waited for the High 
Youma come to terms with his confinement.

	Malachite reached out slowly with one hand until his palm came into 
contact with the searing barrier of force that surrounded him. He didn't 
jerk it back but rode the wave of pain that soared up his arm and into 
his chest, testing it He pulled away from it casually, not willing to 
let Mender see how much it had hurt him. He could get through but the 
effort would be taxing, and Mender was waiting on the other side. Not 
that he wouldn't have any trouble dealing with the youma if it came down 
to it. But this was also an excellent opportunity to gather some 
information. For the moment he'd let Mender believe he held the upper 
hand.

	"Where is Nephlyte?" He returned his arms to their folded position 
across his chest.

	"Oh, wandering around somewhere, I'm sure." Mender shrugged, totally 
unconcerned.

	He took that piece of information, worried it around. Nephlyte was here 
in the sanctuary of Menders house. Shadow-spawn had been with him in the 
chamber. That meant that the female youma was probably there also and in 
alliance with Nephlyte. But why? He had absolutely no idea of why and 
that made him very uneasy. 

	"What do you want, Mender?"

	"Huum. What do I want? I don't know! Everything!" Mender laughed, made 
an exuberant gesture with his arms. "But then I'm greedy by nature." The 
glee in his face and voice turned menacing. "Let's start with an 
explanation as to why I found you in my House, uninvited and obviously 
not in need of my services?" 

	"I was searching for a youma. The doors were open." Malachite shrugged 
back.

	Mender shifted in his chair, his chin going to the other hand as he 
sighed. "I knew I should have checked them. Though any youma but you 
would have had the manners to knock instead of just barging in. Now 
you've gone and caused me all kinds of trouble."

	Malachite shrugged again. "Not my problem. As you said, you should have 
made sure the doors where shut. Now, what is it going to take for you to 
let me go?"

	Mender studied him with unblinking and glittering eyes. "You are going 
to keep the knowledge that Nephlyte is alive and here secret and protect 
and provide safe passage for him and his companions for the next four 
days."

	Malachite laughed, hard. When he got his amusement under control he 
cocked his eyebrows at the youma. "I don't think so, Mender." *Why just 
four days? Of course! The Gates. He's heading for one of the Gates.* 
"You can't keep me here forever anyway. Think of something reasonable."

	"Oh, I could if I chose too, Malachite. But then I'd have to put up 
with your posturing and bad temper. Who'd want to do that?" Mender 
giggled. It was an unnerving sound that set Malachite's teeth on edge. 
"No. Those are my terms for your release."

	"The Queen will be looking for me soon. I don't think she will be 
pleased to find that you are holding me here, Mender. Or to learn that 
you are helping a traitor."

	"Oooo, threats!" Mender clapped his hands and bounced in his chair. "I 
just love threats. Can I play too? How about: If Beryl asks, I'll just 
tell her you are dead. That one's pretty good. And it would work too! 
What do you think?" He finished with another giggle.

	Malachite glared at him. "But that wouldn't serve your purpose. You 
want me to protect them."

	"Oh, they'll get there without you, it would just be easier if you were 
to help them along their way. Tell you what, I'll even sweeten the deal. 
I'll give you something you want." Mender's face turned sly.

	Malachite tensed, cautious and curious. Something he wanted? What could 
Mender have that he would want? And Mender never offered anything 
without a price. What trap was the youma laying for him?

	"And just what would that be, other than my immediate release?"

	"Oh, how about a way around that nasty rock that Beryl put in your 
head."

	"Rock? What rock?" Malachite bit out, startled.

	"Oh, it's a good story. Want to hear it, High Youma?"

	"Yes, I do." Malachite snarled.

	"Well, then sit, sit!" Mender gestured at the couch.

	Malachite sat on the edge, every sense tuned to its limit. Did Mender 
have some piece of information that he was unaware of? Or was he just 
rambling?

	"Let's see. Where to start. At the beginning, of course! Where else? 
But the beginning is really the middle. Or is it the Now? Oh, I'm 
confusing myself! How silly!" Mender blinked a few times and shook his 
head. "Well, it doesn't matter. Beryl had these four rocks, you see. 
Very special, very powerful rocks. Can you guess what they were, High 
Youma?"

	"I don't like guessing games, Mender." Malachite had a suspicion as to 
what they were, though. And he didn't like it.

	"Of course you don't. You like to 'know'.  Well, they were of Jadite, 
Nephlyte, Zoicite and Malachite, of course. Very special rocks, indeed. 
She used them to turn four human men into her High Youma. Ringing any 
bells yet, Malachite?"

	Malachite relaxed and gave a snort of derision. "What a ridiculous 
tale, Mender. I have always been a youma, just as you have. Now stop 
wasting my time and tell me what you are after."

	Mender smiled maliciously. "Ridiculous? It's the truth, cross my heart 
and hope to live! What do you find so ridiculous in it, Alexi Medov?

	"Is that supposed to be my human name, Mender? I'm not impressed. By it 
or this flight of fancy. Now, I'll only ask you one more time. What do 
you want?"

	"Well, that was one of them. You have another, older one. Want to hear 
it? I can guarantee you'll be impressed!"

	Malachite had had enough. He rose smoothly, power beginning to crackle 
into purple-black existence around his frame. He would go through this 
ward and Mender, then go and extract some information out of Nephlyte.
 
	Mender sighed, 'tsk'-ed and shook his head. "Temper, temper, Malakai."

	"What?" The dark aura around Malachite wavered. *Malakai?* His mind 
echoed on the word even as he tried to silence it, knowing now what it's 
sounding would bring. He was too late. When the black, pain-filled wave 
that had risen to engulf him in warning started to ebb he found himself 
on his hands and knees beside the couch. Fear flickered through him. How 
had Mender known that this name had power over him?

	"My, my! That was interesting..." Mender's chin had gone back into his 
hand and that annoying grin was amused.

	Malachite's head snapped up, his blue-grey eyes holding fury filled 
fear as he waited for Mender to finish his dramatic pause with that 
name. 

	"...High Youma."

	Malachite sagged with relief and surprise. Why hadn't Mender said it? 
He would have. Just to reinforce his power, to make sure that he knew 
his place. He decided he really didn't care. Just as long as Mender 
didn't say it. So now he knew what Mender was after. Damn him to the 
Light!

	"Get up, High Youma. Sit." Mender watched as Malachite all but crawled 
back onto the couch. "Amazing the power in a name, isn't it?"

	Malachite closed his eyes as his thoughts raced, laced his fingers 
together to hide the shake of his hands. How would the knowledge that 
came with the memory of that name threaten Beryl? Did he have some power 
that she was afraid of? Had he been human once as Mender had said? He 
now questioned his memories. He had seen Beryl warp and twist 
Endymion's. Had she done the same to him? And the other High Youma? When 
he opened them again, his thoughts were calm and focused though his 
hands hadn't lost their tremble. 

	"You said it was mine, this name."

	Mender nodded into his hand.

	"And the Queen uses this rock to hide it's meaning from me?"

	Mender nodded again.

	"Why would the Queen need to hide it from me?" 

	"Only you can answer that, High Youma. I can but show you how."

	Malachite locked his ice colored glare onto Mender. "How."

	Mender straightened, the grin gone. "You will pay the agreed price for 
it?"

	"Yes. I agree to the terms and conditions of the bargain." For four 
days he would protect them. But on the fifth, Nephlyte and his companion 
were fair game.

	"Done!" Mender gave him a strange look. If he had been human he would 
have recognized it as compassion. Then Mender giggled, the maniacal 
gleam coming back into his eyes as he rose and went to a corner to 
rummaged about, muttering.

	Malachite still felt as if he was missing some vital piece of 
information as he watched. Why just four days? Did Nephlyte truly think 
that he could hide from the Dark Presence and those who served it? If he 
did, he was a fool. And Malachite knew that Nephlyte was no fool. What 
was his plan? His thoughts were interrupted by Mender's, "Ah-ha! I knew 
it was over here!"

	Mender straightened, turned, the thin circlet of unadorned and dull 
metal spinning around one finger as he came back. He paused a few feet 
from the shimmer of the ward, flicked his hand and sent the fillet 
towards the High Youma. Malachite caught it easily with one hand, then 
narrowed his eyes to 'read' it. It seemed innocuous enough. The metal 
warmed in his hands as he studied it. There was some power in it, yet he 
wouldn't have given it more than a glance under other circumstances. He 
raised his eyebrows at Mender in question. Mender's face wrinkled with 
exasperation as he mimed putting it on his head with over exaggerated 
gestures.

	Malachite studied the band a few more seconds. This was Mender's way 
around Beryl's spell? Then he gave a mental shrug and put it into place. 
He waited. Nothing happened. He glared at Mender. Mender shrugged, a 
look of curious expectation on his rough features.

	"It's kind of old. Probably taking a few minutes to warm up. Oh, I 
forgot to tell you! If you've got any magiked bits and pieces on you, 
you should take them off."

	*Magiked bits and pieces?* His snarling response to that died before he 
got it out as the band clamped down around his skull with a surge of 
heat. He raised his hands as pain stabbed through his mind...*off,  
Darkness, get it off!*

	Mender gave a hard, vindicated smile as Malachite screamed and clawed 
at the circlet around his head, his body arched with agony. "Oh, I also 
forgot to mention it was going to hurt."

	He watched until the High Youma went past screams and had collapsed 
into a shuddering huddle on the couch. He began to whistle a cheery tune 
to Malachites labored breathing as he turned and wandered to the Go 
board  to play both sides of the table as he waited.

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	Aurora was in a place full of palm trees and warm breezes and the sound 
of the ocean and the wonderful, hot sun. She was in a hammock...no that 
wasn't right. She frowned, eyes still closed as she tried to place the 
gentle rocking sway. Shadow-spawn. This was his rolling gait. She sighed 
as the dream and it's illusion of warmth fled as the dull throb above 
her left hip and memory slowly started to reclaimed her. She opened her 
eyes, focused on the features of the bowed head above her shadowed by 
the broad brimmed hat and smiled. Nephlyte. He was taking her home. 
Home! She wondered if he was asleep. His arms where firm around her even 
though his eyes were closed and his head moved loosely back and forth 
with their mounts stride. Her smile turned into a grimace and she drew 
in a sharp gulp of air as she tried to shift to a more comfortable 
position.

	"Aurora?" Nephlyte's eyes snapped open and he tightened his arms around 
her as that sound jerked him out of the doze he had been lulled into by 
Shadow-spawns rolling lope.

	"I'm O.K. I just need to move." She assured him in a tight little 
voice.

	He helped her as she pushed up, hated the helpless feeling that 
fluttered through him as she went pale with pain. She closed her eyes 
and bit at her lower lip, her hand moving to press against her wound as 
he steadied her while she moved to straddle the back under her. She 
leaned back against him with a sigh, relaxed, then tensed as she sat up 
and looked around. He wondered what was wrong as he scanned the 
undulating blue sameness of the Southern Plains. Nothing but a small 
herd of long-legged prey youma occupied it for as far as he could see. 
Shadow-spawn slowed, then halted, went to his knees.

	"Aurora? What's wrong?" She avoided his hand as he reached to steady 
her as she wiggled off and limped a few steps away. He slid off, 
confusion warring with annoyance as he followed.

	She had been concentrating so hard on not giving in to the pain as she 
moved that she hadn't realized that they were still in the Dark Kingdom. 
It had stunned her to find that they were still in this horrid, cold 
place. That Nephlyte had lied to her. Again. An uncharacteristic fury 
was rapidly replacing the shock of that discovery.

	Shadow-spawn gave a concerned nicker as he saw the Darkness begin to 
tinge the gray of his One's aura. The High Youma and Aurora ignored him.

	"Where are we?" Aurora demanded, her voice trembling with suppressed 
anger as she turned on Nephlyte.

	"The Southern Plains." Her hostile stance and tone of voice pricked at 
him and he sub-consciously drew himself to his full height and put his 
closed fists against his hips, a posture that the youma knew and feared, 
as he made himself keep a firm hold of his own temper.

	"Why?" She snapped.

	"Why?" He echoed as his temper flared despite his attempt to control 
it.

	"You said you were taking me home! You lied to me! Again! You lied!" 
She all but snarled, her face twisting into a hard cold mask from her 
fury.

	Nephlyte glared back at her, coldness taking hold of his soul. *Please, 
Aurora, stop...I can't...* But she wasn't finished yet.

	 "I think it's all you know how to do! And I, stupid human girl, keep 
on believing you! Look at me!" She took another wincing step back, 
looked down at her hand over the hole in her body. "I'm a seventeen year 
old girl masquerading as a youma in Hell! You did this to me! You did 
it!"

	Nephlyte tensed, his body moving without thought. It was the only way 
he knew to stop those words that raked across his being. Shadow-spawn 
roared and lunged.

	"I hate this place! I hate it! And I hate..." She stopped, the fear 
that came into her eyes not from the strike that was flying for her face 
but  from the word that had almost been spoken.

	She held his eyes with her own, seeming to dare him to hit her as those 
venom filled words struck him. Fear came into them as his hand sped for 
her face. No! He took hold of his anger and contained it. He would not 
hit her for speaking the truth. He managed to stop as she simultaneously 
raised her hand and thrust it in the way of Shadow-spawns fang filled 
mouth, saving him from a venom filled bite. 

	They stared at each other, each uncertain of what was happening, then 
Aurora pressed her lips together into a thin line and lowered her eyes.

	"Aurora..." His hand was now slow and gentle as it moved towards her 
face. She turned her cheek away from the intended caress.

	"Just leave me alone for a little while, Nephlyte." She kept her gaze 
on the ground and her head turned away from him.

	He dropped his hand, schooled his features into bored unconcern and 
shrugged as he turned. He glared at Shadow-spawn who laid back his ears 
and hissed menacingly as he passed and walked fifty paces away from 
Aurora. What had just happened?

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Thanks for reading it!

Windlily

trichm@iu.net