Nephlyte dropped his head and studied the rippling pattern of the
uneven floor. He had no choice but to accept the terms that Mender
offered and the other youma knew it. But why? Why would Mender offer
such a simple solution to his current dilemma? There had to be a catch,
but Darkness Itself, he couldn't detect it.

	"I accept your terms and agree to your conditions," Well, it was done
and now he was bound by it. He'd find out soon enough.

	"Wonderful!" Mender crowed. "Now," he gathered Malachite up into his
arms and stood, "you get some rest while I get things ready! I'll be
back in a bit."

	*Crazy. Mender was insane. And I just made a bargain with him.*

	That was the only thing Nephlyte could think as the youma's "Oh, yes,
just wonderful!" Echoed back as he scurried away.

	He sighed as he shut the door and leaned back against it, the weariness
that threatened to take him to his knees finally showing as a fine
tremor that ran through his entire frame. He heard Shadow-spawn make a
soft hissing nicker and looked up. The youma had moved from his guarding
position over Aurora and now stood at her side. He gestured with his
head for Nephlyte to come. It was an invitation he couldn't resist. He
made the few steps to her side and sank down, not caring that the floor
was rough and cold against his skin as he formed himself around her and
let himself fall into the quiet rest of sleep.

	Shadow-spawns growls and Mender's mutters brought him back up.

	"Oh, stop complaining. They're not that heavy and a beast of burden you
where and will be again," Menders voice.

	He pushed himself up to one elbow to see the tall youma fussing with
the rope connected bags draped over Shadow-spawns back.

	"Ah, good. You're awake. Here," Mender went to the little table and
brought him a pile of clothes as he pushed himself up to sit. "Time to
get going."

	He bit back a groan as his still weak and pain tinged body reminded him
that it was still in bad shape. Well, bad shape or not, he had to
function. He willed the pain away and ignored the weakness as he looked
over the coarse fabrics and worn leathers that Mender had handed him and
wrinkled his nose in an unconscious gesture of disgust.

	"What? You were expecting your uniform, High Youma?" Mender blinked and
gave him what passed for a sweet smile.

	"No. I'm not stupid, Mender. Just something a little less," he paused
for a moment as he glared at the clothing, "used."

	"If you're going to be a lowly rank and file, best dress and act like
one, don'tcha think, Nephlyte?" There was a hint of warning under the
grin.

	Nephlyte didn't answer, just started to put the disgusting things on.

	"Where's Malachite?" He asked as he dressed.

	"Oh, contained." Mender answered nonchalantly as he went and leaned
over Aurora.

	Nephlyte tensed, ready to move as Mender reached down. The youma did
nothing more than softly touch her hair with a strange look on his face.
It took Nephlyte a moment to place it. It was the same expression that
humans made when they were with children they cared about. It was very
strange to see on this youma. Then Mender straightened and the
tenderness was gone.

	"Eeee. That hair! Got to do something about that hair! The hat. Yes, I
knew I forgot something! Well, we'll get it on the way out. Don't let me
forget now. Now, what was I going to tell you?" He tapped his chin as
Nephlyte went to one knee by Aurora, getting ready to wake her. "No, let
her sleep until she wakes up on her own. Well, I guess you are ready to
go. Everything you should need is in the packs."

	Nephlyte lifted Aurora into his arms and told himself he could and
would carry her even as his body warned him it could and would not.

	"Where are we going?" Aurora murmured.

	He looked down into her barely open green eyes and found himself
smiling. "I'm taking you home. You just rest now."

	"O.K.," she snuggled back against him, trusting and certain in the
knowledge he would keep her safe.

	It frightened him and made him strangely content all at the same time.
He would keep her safe, to the best of his abilities. Shadow-spawn came
and went to one knee before him. He eyed the black creature, still
uncertain about it's apparent change of heart.

	"Here, let me hold her while you mount."

	Mender took her out of his arms before he could protest. He glared at
the youma, but Menders whole focus was on the young woman he held.

	"Get on, Nephlyte. She is yours, not mine."

	*Yours. Not mine.* Those words echoed in Nephlyte's mind as he
straddled the wide back and grabbed for mane as Shadow-spawn surged to
his feet.

	He didn't hear that last forlorn, "Never mine."

	Mender handed her up without a word, his face set like the grey rock it
resembled. Then he turned and led them out, walked silently beside them
down the hall with his head down and long fingers laced behind his back.

	"Wait here," he stopped in front of the doors to his horde and came
back a few seconds later with a wide brimmed hat and a sheathed sword
wrapped in it's belt.

	He unwrapped the belt and buckled it at it's widest. Nephlyte took it
with a grateful nod and managed to get it one-handed over his shoulder
and head and into a comfortable position across his back. He looked at
the hat, balked in taking it from Mender's hand.

	"Wear it. If for some reason the Ward slips or you run into one of the
youma who can see through them, you'll need it. One look at that mane
and they'll know who you are."

	He frowned but took the hat and pushed it firmly down on his head.

	"The Zenith Gate. Four days."

	"We'll be there. You just make sure you keep your end of the
agreement," Nephlyte grumbled back.

	"Oh, you'll be the first to know if I can't," Mender grinned as he led
them to the front doors.

	"Ha. Ha. Very funny."

	"Well, I thought it was!" Mender giggled as he made the gestures that
created the concealment ward.

	Then he pushed open one side of the great doors and waved them through.
"Get out."

	Shadow-spawn took a step.

	"Wait," Shadow-spawn stopped at Nephlyte's request. "Why Mender? Why
are you helping us?"

	Mender cocked his head and looked up at him with a playful gleam in his
eyes.

	"You wouldn't believe me if I told you, Nephlyte. Besides, I've
received fair payment for my services. Now, get out of here
Shadow-spawn!" He made a shooing motion with his hands and the youma was
off.

	Mender watched Shadow-spawn turn towards the South at the bottom of the
path then closed the door and went back to deal with his uninvited
guest.


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


	*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 and eyed the shimmer in
the air before him. Some kind of a binding ward surrounded the area of
the couch. He narrowed his eyes as he crossed his arms and drew himself
up to his full height.

	"Release me, right now," he demanded.

	"No," Mender answered in an amused tone as he propped his elbow on the
arm of his chair and rested his chin in his hand and 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 and 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 as he
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
companions 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 and turned, a 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 and with a flick of his hand 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
in time with Malachites labored breathing as he turned and wandered to
the Go board to play both sides of the table as he waited.

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