Everyone has to take holidays sometimes.

In a vast, heavily foliaged mountainous region of a world they had recently discovered to be named Krickhen, two werewolves, alien to this world, were having a romantic break from daemonslaying.

Shade and Soul had been left by themselves to explore the apparently sparsely populated forests of the Northern Mountains for a few days, while their friend Blackjack had departed for the city of Starren, where he hoped to find that his quite obviously un-humanoid form could pass unnoticed. As they hadn't heard from him since, and the dragon was quite able to look after himself, they assumed he had been successful.

The single moon of Krickhen had just passed the pinnacle of its six-week lunar cycle, and the two lovers were enjoying the cool mountain night air for the first time in human form. They were climbing one of the taller mountains in the range, on a suggestion from Meccha that it might offer a premium view of the canyon they had passed through the last night as werewolves.

Meccha was the first one of the couple to writhe her way out of the bracken and stand on the cliff edge looking down at the glacier valley that marked this side of the mountain, but F'lair wasn't far behind her.

"Look at this, F'lair, it's beautiful!"

"Wow," the undead werewolf replied as he caught up with his immortal mate, slipping an arm around her affectionately, "so it is."

They turned their attention away from the impressive view, and were about to focus it exclusively on each other, when they were surprised by a shape hurtling up over the cliff edge, and a man landed squat on all fours in front of them. Dressed in torn black leathers, he was obviously less surprised to see them than they were him, although his face suggested he had more pressing things to be concerned about than new acquaintances.

"Hi," as he stood up, he shook his dirty blonde hair over his head and out of his extremely tired face. "I think it's fair to tell you that there's a pack of wild dogs on my tail, and if they kill me, they will no doubt tear you two to pieces."

The daemonslayers had no time to respond before the stranger lashed out a kick behind him, sending a mass of hair yelping into the trees below the cliff. Another creature followed that one, but he had followed through the back kick in time to strike a left hook exactly to deal with this one.

A third dog scrambled on to the flat, and was about to sink its teeth into the exhausted stranger before Shade sent it flying.

Then there was no time to think as all three were engaged in combating a surge of animals over the side of the cliff. It was disconcerting, the sheer numbers they were fighting, and it didn't take long until Shade realised that just sending the creatures plummeting back was not working: they consistently came bounding back for more. When he had a second to breathe, he drew his fireblade,

His mounting suspicions as to the nature of the foe were confirmed when, having turned his back long enough to let one attempt a rear assault, he turned to face it, and found himself eye to eye with what was not the canine he was expecting, but a werewolf. His surprise as hesitance to attack would have been fatal if something hadn't whizzed past his left ear, hitting the other werewolf between the eyes. It was a silver knife.

Shade stepped back automatically as his opponent burst into flames and dropped dead. He turned around to see who had thrown it and saw that the stranger had a regular arsenal of silver weapons, and was using them against the pack, whose attentions were mainly directed towards him. A werewolf hunter? Possibly. F'lair caught the eye of Meccha, who had also realised what they were fighting, and they made a silent agreement to try and keep their lycanthropic tendencies under control until they could make their escape. But now, they had other things to do.

Now they knew what they were fighting, it didn't take long to see off the pack. All three saved each other's lives a number of times, and Shade began to doubt that the stranger had sought out these werewolves in order to kill them. At the end, he was exhausted, and collapsed to the ground. His left leg looked awkward, evidently broken, but he seemed unconcerned. He, too, looked less then human. Panting on the floor, he was covered in a matt of golden hair, his legs looked too short and awkward, and his feet and hands looked distinctly paw like.

Soul placed her hand on F'lair's shoulder. "What do we do?" she whispered in what basic Caevalonian she knew.

Shade half-turned to her. He had decided the stranger was a lycanthrope himself, albeit one who carried an obscene (not to mention downright suicidal) amount of silver. "We wait until he can talk." The two werewolves were tired after the fight, but Shade's injuries had already healed and Meccha's were only superficial. The stranger, on the other hand, was incapacitated with exhaustion after the fight, which had obviously succeeded a tough chase.

After a minute the stranger resumed a human form and sat up, a smile of gratitude on his face, and a leather-gloved hand extended in friendship, "Thanks guys, I owe you my…" As he caught Shade's eye, he stopped short with shock. "What are you?"

This, Shade thought, was rich, but the look in the stranger's eyes stopped him from a comeback.

He sees me, said Raven inside his consciousness. And I scare him.

It was a shock when the stranger shook his head. "Only if fear is lack of understanding. I don't understand how your soul can have a separate voice, I don't recognise the species, and to find it in a werewolf is beyond unheard of," then to Soul: "And I'm not used to meeting people with no soul at all."

"And you?" asked Shade. "What are you? A were-puma?" It was the nearest he had been able to gauge.

The stranger laughed gently, but his eyes flashed. "There was a time I would have killed you dead for such an accusation. I am a bimorph. But yes, I do have the soul of a mountain lion."

This needed explanation, but the 'bimorph' seemed to be in a hurry.

"Unlike Lycanthropes, I can adopt the complete shape of a mountain lion. I also have a puma's soul. But we are wasting time. I was leading those dogs - also bimorphs, as you might have noticed - away from someone who will be expecting me to return. My name is Ky'Lechks. People call me Lex."

"Shade, Soul."

"It's an honour to make your acquaintance. I think you had better come with me. It's dangerous to be a werewolf in these mountains. You both obviously fight well, but dogs are stupid. You may already have a hunter on your tail. If anyone sees you with me, they will think twice before attacking. Were you loose last night?"

Shade nodded.

"Did you kill anyone?"

Shade shook his head. "Not that I know of. Was anyone killed last night?"

"People are always killed around here on a full moon. It provides a scapegoat for murderers wishing to remain anonymous. But we should make a move." Lex went to stand up but stopped with a grimace of pain as he put weight on his broken leg.

"Let me look at it…" Meccha offered, but the puma stopped her.

"I have my own magic." He opened a pouch attached to his belt and removed the leather wrapping around a silver amulet depicting concentric circles. Gritting his teeth, he placed his forefinger in the centre of it…

***

Blackjack, known to his two best friends as Sy, was being watched.

He had been right in assuming he could pass unnoticed in the city of Starren, although the silver collar he had been obliged to don at the city gates suggested his friends would not have had so much ease fitting in.

He was sitting now in the largest tavern of the city, listening to a band whose heavy metal type music was pumping through the walls with magic. He had been unable to determine the species of many of the tavern's occupants, including the lead singer and guitarist, a seven foot humanoid with large red bat-like wings, but he was fairly sure that he and the feathery winged bassist were related to the Harpies of Syrax' own world. The other guitarist was one of the only humans Blackjack had seen in this city, and the drums were being played by a troll.

Black' finished his (as yet unidentified) drink and pushed a small fraction of the native coinage he had acquired toward the satyr behind the bar. Seeing that this was enough, he jumped off his stool and headed out; hardly noticing he was being followed.

It wasn't until he was a hundred yards down the road until Syrax heard a sweet, childlike feminine voice saying "Hello, Mr Dragon."

He turned to face a tall, slender woman clad in a nearly completely black cat suit, of a material not unlike PVC, with knee length bright red high-heeled boots. Her bright green eyes and perfect red mouth were set on him with a faintly quizzical and friendly look. Her black hair shone in the moonlight as she took a step towards him. Blackjack was already suspicious. And he didn't appreciate being addressed like that.

"Do I look like a dragon?" he demanded.

The girl shook her black locks and smiled again, walking up to him. "Dragons have scales. You have hair."

Well, she was not the brightest girl Blackjack had ever met. His suspicions did not fade, however, as the stranger ran her forefinger along his snout. It irritated, and he reached up to brush her hand away while moving to step back.

It happened so suddenly that at first Blackjack didn't understand the origin of the sudden pain that shot through his skull. He staggered back, bent double in shock and pain, and his hands shot to his face. The girl's finger had barely moved, but when he felt his face, he saw that she had broken his nose -the cartilage had shattered.

Blackjack looked up when he heard a girlish giggle. She was grinning at him! He pulled out his double-headed axe, only to have it fly out of his hand to the girl. He decided the best thing to do right now would be to flee - the black clad girl was some powerful sorceress, and he didn't want to find out what she wanted. He spread his wings and took off - heading for the mountains and hopefully safety with his friends.

But Blackjack was no more than ten feet off the ground when he realised he wasn't going anywhere. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw the witch standing on air behind him, one hand grasping his right wing with an iron grip.

"Don't try to escape. That's no fun." She snapped his wing with her one hand, and they shot up a further ten metres before she and let go. Syrax plummeted to the ground, just managing to land on his feet, but the force of impact broke his legs and he collapsed.

Rolling over onto his back, Blackjack had lost sight of his tormentor. She stepped into view, looking as beautiful as ever, and reached down, blood red talons extended, towards his eyes. Blackjack wondered how long he would stay conscious for.

The girl stopped suddenly, as if listening to something the cursed dragon couldn't hear. "Oh pooh. Hang on," she told him, and moved out of his view again.

***

Meccha disliked her on sight.

She sat cross-legged, hovering what would be three feet of the ground if she wasn't on the other side of the cliff edge. Her flawless brow was crinkled slightly in annoyance, but her smile was disarming.

"Yes?"

Lex sniffed the air, and, with the air of a disapproving teacher "You smell of blood, Peki."

The newcomer smiled coyly. "Found a playmate."

"What have I told you about 'playmates'?"

She pouted. "You didn't say anything about this one. He's not really a dragon."

Shade's ears perked up. "Blackjack!" He suddenly recognised the axe that she had been idly toying with.

Lex saw his concern. "A friend of yours?"

"She'd better not have hurt him!" Soul drew her fireblade.

"'Hurt', I'm afraid is a given. Is he still alive, Peki?"

'Peki' adopted a hurt expression "Of course he is."

"Bring him here."

A groan behind the three made them turn to see Blackjack lying in the grass, which was already becoming stained with blood pouring from his legs, wing and face. He would have been indistinguishable, if it wasn't for the fact that he was particularly unique in form.

"Sy!" Meccha rushed to the invalid. Shade turned on Lex, ready to kill him.

"What has your thing done?" He growled.

Lex sighed. "Peki, fix him. And while you're at it, I have a broken leg"

Peki pouted again, but Blackjack's nose slid back into his rightful place and he stood up, testing his now perfect legs. He turned to Peki.

"My axe." He demanded. Lex nodded and the axe returned to its owner. Syrax' eyes flashed with anger, but the puma, having stood up, extended a hand, removing his leather gloves.

"I'm Lex. Shade and Soul saved my life. And my genie nearly took yours. I am truly sorry.

Blackjack snarled, and didn't reply, not taking Lex' hand, which was returned to its owner's side.

"But," asked Shade, "why did you let it wander around looking for people to kill? Why didn't you use it against the dogs?"

"I don't want the bimorphs to know who has her, and she gets irritating locked up in the amulet," replied Lex. "but lets talk and walk. I left someone in the valley, and I want to check on her." Lex went to change, but checked himself, thought for a second and instead said "Peki, get us to the bottom of the cliff. All four of us. Safely."

Shade blinked and found himself looking down a rough path leading into woods, with the mountain towering behind him that previously he had been standing on top of. He and Meccha had followed this path the night before.

"Silva's cottage is down this path," said Lex, leading the way. Meccha glanced at the others, and went after him. Peki winked at Blackjack and followed, walking an inch above the actual forest floor.

"Shade, a word?" Blackjack laid a hand on the werewolf's shoulder and the two walked together a short distance behind the others.

"What's up?"

"What are we doing following this guy? His 'genie' has just almost killed me."

Shade looked his pal up and down "You look OK to me."

"That's not the point. Those injuries were real. Why don't we just leave him? He's got that thing, he doesn't need our protection."

"Sy, he understated when he said we saved his life. He saved each of us a coupla' times during that fight."

The news that they had been involved in battle hadn't surprised the dragon, who had seen the debri, but he was feeling left out. "So now you're even, right?"

"He says it's dangerous for werewolves in this country. There's a bunch of creatures called bimorphs who are out to have us killed."

"So let's just leave this world. I've had enough of a holiday. I'm itching for some action."

"I don't think there's an absence of that around here." Shade was distracted, and puzzled "I don't remember a cottage down this path. What's going on?"

Meccha had fallen in step with their guide.

"So, you want to explain why those dogs were even chasing you to start with? You're of their kind, aren't you?"

"Yes," replied Lex, "but I'm an outlaw in bimorph society. They have a very rigid social structure and set of laws, and the punishment is usually death. We take our roles as guardians of animal souls very seriously."

"Guardians?"

"A mountain lion doesn't have an individual soul. The body can't contain one. My body contains a mountain lion soul that represents the rest of the mountain lions. It is my actions that reflect on the soul."

"But what about your soul?"

"I don't have one." Lex looked at her to gauge her reaction, "a human who is accepted to become a bimorph, will undergo a ritual releasing the original soul, but I, as a pure-bred, never had my own soul. I have the greater burden of a mountain lion's soul."

"So, what have you done that makes you an outlaw?"

"I used to be a bounty-hunter for the bimorphs. I used to seek out and kill lycanthropic targets for the Council. When I said I wasn't going to do it any more, they outlawed me. There's a considerable price on my head."

"What made you change your ways?"

He shrugged, and turned his head back to the path in front of him. "I fell in love with a lycanthrope."

He wasn't particularly talkative after this, and the only sound amongst the group was the hushed debate going on between the two daemonslayer guys.

After they had been walking a short while, Lex looked up. "Silva's cottage is just along here." And, sure enough, in a clearing both Shade and Meccha could have sworn was empty the last night, a small hand-built cottage stood, with a young brunette woman standing at the gate, hands on hips and a disapproving look on her face.

"What was that display of heroics for?"

"Saving your life," replied Lex. The woman, presumably 'Silva' didn't answer. She was glaring at Peki.

"That is not coming in my house." She stated, no small tone of hate in her voice.

"Peki, get in the amulet." Lex told the genie. With her gone, the woman's face softened, and she greeted Lex with a kiss. When the guys had caught up. She approached Blackjack.

"Are you OK?" she asked, genuine concern in her voice.

"Yes, of course I am." Blackjack flexed his mended wing.

"Just come inside, and I'll get you some hot cider." Silva gestured for them to enter the cottage.

"Cider?" Lex suddenly sounded hopeful.

"Just go and get dinner."

"That's OK…" Blackjack started, but Lex interrupted.

"It's not a good idea to turn down Silva's cider." he suggested "You'll never regret tasting it."

"Just come in," Silva encouraged the daemonslayers. "Only be careful of the windows, they've got silver catches."

"What is it, with bimorphs and lycanthropes on this world," Meccha whispered to F'lair as they entered the cottage, "they've all got silver fetishes!"

It was a surprise to all three of them when they entered the cottage. The room that greeted them was bigger than the exterior. There was a staircase moving up into a storey that hadn't been visible from outside and a glimpse of an expansive kitchen out the back. The main room was filled with an eclectic range of comfortable seats around a large fireplace. Wild roses and garlic flowers were strung around the windows, and there was evidence of a mystic carving beneath the worn rug. The large oak table by the main window was covered in various knifes and large leather-bound volumes, as well as a crystal ball mounted on a gold stand. The mantle over the low fire was filled with bottles labelled in an alphabet Soul didn't recognise, and a cauldron just below smelled invitingly of apples, cinnamon, and above all, alcohol. Silva was evidently a practising mage.

"Just make yourselves comfortable," Silva told them, she and Lex's proceeded into the kitchen as the daemonslayers took seats around the fire.

"They seem harmless," suggested Shade.

Meccha, having taken in as much of her surroundings as she could, nodded "A woodland witch: - no serious black magic."

Blackjack growled "I hate this world."

A heated argument had broken out with the couple in the next room, and the three visitors couldn't help eavesdropping.

"…completely irresponsible. If you hadn't called her away…"

"I wasn't to know that dimension hoppers would be around, was I?"

"Why you let her wander free is beyond me."

"Because if she is locked up she gets tetchy. The last thing I need is an excitable piece of silver on me, isn't it?"

"I just wish you wouldn't bother with her."

"…And let her fall into the hands of bimorphs?"

The witch sighed. "Just give it here, and go and get me some meat." The back door opened and closed, and Silva re-entered the living room, her hands full of silver weapons, which she heaped on to the front table. Meccha stared.

"What is it?" Silva asked, looking at her hands.

"Nothing. Lex implied… I thought you were…"

"A werewolf? Oh no." Silva looked slightly puzzled. "My sister was a lycanthrope. He might have meant her." A look implied the subject was to be dropped as she moved to the fire, and ladled a large amount of the cauldren's contents into a huge mug.

"Here," she offered it to Blackjack. "I'm sorry about what happened. Lex really has no control over that thing, but he does put her to constructive use." Her brown eyes conveyed absolute sympathy, and the dragon shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He wasn't used to this treatment, and didn't see why he should stand it.

Silva gave mugs of cider to Soul and Shade before taking one for herself and sitting down. "So," she began, by way of small talk, "what do you make of Krickhen so far?"

Blackjack was about to reply in expletives, when he was interrupted by a frantic noise at the window. All four of them turned to see a flurry of black against the glass, with bursts of flame scorching the frame. Silva jumped up with a cry of "Starling!" and opened the window.

The small black ball of chaos hurtled into the room, and lapped the ceiling a couple of times, with a horrific squeaking amongst a flurry of leathery wings. Soul ducked just in time for a hole to be burnt in the back of her chair.

Silva reached up and grabbed the intruder, which turned out to be a tiny black dragon, not half the size of the daemonslayer's friend Garth, and gave it a little slap around the face. It stopped its urgent squeaking and sunk into her arms.

"Poor thing, you're exhausted. Calm down, sweetie." The dragon resumed a squeaking, this time a steady, low one, like sobbing. Silva laid him on her chair, dipped a lump of coal into her mug of cider and held it out for him to lap from.

"Do you know him?" Meccha had got up to see the pathetic sight.

"He was a present from one old friend to another. From his agitated state, I imagine one, or the other, or both, is in trouble." Starling nodded franticly. "Is it Riya?" He nodded again. "and Zetnel?" He shook his little head and looked up.

"Then I imagine," Silva continued, "that Riya is in trouble and Zetnel will be following Starling for my assistance." Starling nodded, and finished his cider. As Meccha sat down again, he flew to her and nestled into her lap. Silva laughed.

"He's very spoiled. Don't let him take advantage." But, Soul had already taken a shine to the tiny dragon, as he closed his exhausted eyes.

Silva cleared a space on her table, and drew her crystal ball closer to her, peering in. "Nothing." She didn't sound surprised. "Zetnel carries a shielding rune I enchanted for her, and Riya is probably out of my reach. She regarded her visitors. "I'm sorry, I'm not being the hostess I should. Riya is a very dear friend, and this may have implications for the whole of Krickhen."

"If we can be of help…" Shade offered, and was acknowledged with gratitude. Silva was impatient for the arrival of her friend.

She didn't have long to wait. Blackjack looked up suddenly as he caught a glimpse of a purple dragon through the window, and a woman appeared in the doorway.

Standing as tall as Blackjack, this woman was an impressive sight. Her unnaturally bright red hair cascaded in loose curls to her waist, and her green eyes looked distinctly reptilian. She wore a minimal reptile skin bodice and knee length boots over leather trousers. She embraced Silva.

"Silva," she explained, "I need a spell for Ry. They've got her in a cave with a curse over the entrance. Only one person can go through at a time."

"I don't understand…" began Shade, but Silva explained,

"Riya's pregnant: with a very important baby. OK, Zet, I'll see what I can do," she headed towards the kitchen. "Make yourself at home. This is Shade, Soul and Blackjack." The daemonslayers had never thought to wonder how they were so familiar to her. She retired to the kitchen.

Zetnel looked at Blackjack. "I don't know you."

Blackjack snarled. He was really getting rankled. "I'm not from this world."

She shrugged, and turned towards the coal-scuttle. "OK, just as long as you don't cause trouble"

Blackjack started right up and turned on the girl. "Right, I've had enough of this treatment…"

Shade jumped up and grabbed his friend. "Easy, man, just relax."

"I'm not getting respect from these people!"

"Respect!" Zetnel had whipped round, and brandished a lump of coal in Blackjack's face. "Who are you to demand respect? Off me? Do you have any idea…" she stopped, and collected herself. "Of course you don't. But let me tell you, young dragon, you think you've got problems, you try it without your wings!" she grabbed the coal-scuttle and swept outside, to where the purple dragon was waiting.

"What did she mean by that?" wandered Soul.

Syrax turned to her. "She's a dragon, too."

"How can you…" Soul began, then realised that even if there was a specific way, beyond intuition, that Syrax could recognise another cursed dragon, he wasn't about to share it.

Instead, Shade spoke up, "another demon curse?"

Blackjack shook his head "I don't know. A demon wouldn't give her the advantage of looking normal. She looked human."

"That's because I am human," Zetnel had re-entered the room.

"Yeah, right," scoffed Blackjack.

"I am. This is a perfectly human body, with all it's weaknesses," the dragon woman stated.

"You weren't always human though,"

"And I won't always be human. It's just a temporary situation."

Syrax turned away from her, "right."

"Right! So don't get any ideas into your head, my dear. If any young dragons approach you, claiming to be a dragon-queen, then don't believe them, OK?"

So that was it "I have a mate," Blackjack replied, but Zetnel wasn't about to take this.

"So you're loyal on your world are you?" She suppressed an incredulous smirk, and changed the subject. "Are those Lex' weapons?" referring to the table. Shade replied in the affirmative.

"Oh good," she didn’t sound like she meant it, but sighed in resignation "but Peki could come in useful. Have you met Peki?" She addressed everything she said to Blackjack, as if the others didn't matter. He nodded curtly.

"Oh yes. I've met her."

"Oh. I see. Well, that's just her way of making friends," Zetnel shrugged, which annoyed Blackjack even more, despite the fact that, against his will, he was beginning to warm to the only dragon he's ever met in a similar predicament.

"Of course, Silva despises her," Zetnel continued, "which is a pity, because I could use her help fighting the demons."

"Demons!" Blackjack had perked up finally, with the prospect of getting some slaying in on his holidays.

"Oh yes," Zetnel was amused by his joy. "That upstart Sir H'Nairre fancies himself as a bit of a demonologist. He'll no doubt have the cave guarded on the inside by whatever demons he can control. Which won't be much. You guys want to come and shed some goo?"

Meccha and Shade caught each other's eye. There went their vacation!

Blackjack, however, looked back to his normal self, willing to forget all the crap that had happened to him on this world if he got to wreck havoc in return.

Silva reentered the room at this moment with a returned Lex. The bimorph and dragon exchanged icy glares, which the witch carefully ignored.

"Zet, could you or Thonny do the honours?" Silva brandished a small antelope, which was quickly chargrilled by a jet of flame that shot out of the red-headed woman's mouth. It was shared out, if unfairly, as neither Zetnel nor Blackjack was quite au fait with sharing food. The smell woke up Starling, who ripped a large chunk off Meccha's share, before flying straight to Zetnel, who fussed extensively over the little dragon.

"Oh, Starling, you good boy. Did you warn Aunty Silva like I asked? Did you? Oh, good boy. Mummy's so proud of you!"

"'Mummy'?" Meccha questioned her.

"Oh yes," Zetnel answered, cradling the squirming black runt against her, "Starling's my little boy." But she mouthed to Blackjack over Starling's head: Cuckoo.

"Baby," she continued to Starling "could you do another favour for mummy and aunt Riya?" Starling nodded his head vigorously. "Could you go and find Kiltret and let him know I need his help? Could you? Good boy." Starling had shot out of the window in a flurry of black leather. His adopted mother watched him go.

"He's so enthusiastic, bless him," she told Blackjack, then turned to Silva, who tossed her a silver pendant.

"It should provide a gateway for Riya and the baby to pass through the curse." The witch said. "We just need to get it to her."

"Not a problem," replied Zetnel. "Syr…" she stopped short. "Blackjack and his friends have offered their services. I assume they can fight?" she asked Blackjack about the werewolves.

"Of course we can," replied F'lair. "With Black' as a friend, we wouldn't be alive if we couldn't"

"I can vouch for them," Lex spoke up. He had spent this time at the door to the kitchen, leaning nonchalantly against the doorframe. Zetnel shot him A Look.

"Are you still alive, puma?" She asked.

The bimorph shrugged with one shoulder. "Looks like it. Seen any rampaging genies?"

The dragon narrowed her eyes. "Sounds like Blackjack has," she replied.

Lex brushed a dirty blonde bang from his eye, and was about to retort when Silva interrupted.

"Riya!" she reminded them.

Zetnel brought herself together. "Right. She's in the North Mountains. Thonny and I will lead the way," she paused, "Do you have transport?" she finally directed a question at Meccha, who nodded.

"It'll be outside." She stood up and went to the door, stopping at what she saw. A large scar had been burnt into the forest in front of the cottage, with the large, and overweight, purple dragon taking up most of it. Nearby, two large griffins were pointedly ignoring each other. Soul blinked as she recognised the armour on the largest of the two. "Is that the Steed? She asked Shade, who passed her and approached it. It turned and padded up to him.

"Looks like it," said F'lair, as Silva went up to and mounted the second. "I was expecting it to be in war-horse form."

Lex laughed as he jumped up behind Silva, much to the distress of her mount, which evidently distrusted the bimorph. "You wouldn't pass very unnoticed riding an equine outside of the Empire on Krickhen," he smiled. "You'd be risking war with the centaurs, let alone what the Pegasus would do to you. Besides, it helps to be able to fly if you do a lot of travelling."

Zetnel was introducing Blackjack to her mount.

"Thonny, this is Mummy's new friend, Mr Blackjack," she adopted much the same tones as with Starling. "This is my little boy Thonarax," she told Blackjack. "He looks after his old disabled mum." Zetnel kissed the massive forehead of the dragon as she climbed onto his head, taking a position behind one of the huge horns that protruded from his skull. The young dragon stood up, flapped his black wings clumsily a few times, then took a run up along the scar he had left, and took to the skies, followed by Silva and Shade on their respective griffins. Grinning at the spectacle, Syrax spread his own wings and took off after them.

***

Despite a clumsy start, and obviously not being altogether particularly bright, Thonarax turned out to have quite and impressive turn of speed, and he and his humanoid mother had soon left the real Griffen behind. The daemonslayers found themselves flying in the middle, and Shade was discovering a vertigo he didn't know he had. Trusting the Steed to follow Thonarax, he shut his eyes and tried not to look down. This amused Blackjack no end.

"It's only bloody air," He laughed at his unfortunate friend.

"Shutup, Sy. We're not all as used to it as you are, OK?"

"Oh, come on, F'lair, You've been in more dangerous situations," this was Soul, who was thrilled with the ride. "If you just relax, you can enjoy it."

"I'll relax when we get down."

"It's not as if the Steed will let you fall."

"Tell my stomach that, OK?"

Raven was laughing hysterically.

Lex wasn't a fan of flying either, but he had ridden pillion on Vreht, Silva's griffin, before. He and Vreht hated each other, but Silva, the ultimate diplomat, made them suffer in silence. He gripped the witch's waist, and kept his gaze fixed on the people flying in front of them.

"So, tell me again what I'm doing here?" he asked Silva.

"You're saving the life and protecting the freedom of a beautiful princess, an unsurpassed warrior, and an innocent baby, as well as preventing the Prophesy of Anarchy, at least for now."

"What?"

"OK, you're here because like it or not, you're a good guy. And no matter how many issues you have with dragons, griffins, and being the Good Guy, you won't leave a friend of mine in distress if you can help it."

For a fraction of a second, Lex was torn between to protesting Silva's observations, and sulking in silence, before he decided to let it go. "Have you spotting the irony?" he asked instead.

"Go on."

"Zetnel, rescuing a princess."

Silva smiled, "from a knight, no less."

"Are you going to explain the entire situation to me, or what?"

"The baby Tr'Riya is carrying is the only child of the late Prince S'Hasjhen."

"Who?"

"The heir to the imperial throne."

"So that baby is next in line?"

"Except that the current empress is the 499th member of the house of Setalette to sit on the throne."

"And?"

Silva sighed. "Do you, in fact, know anything about the Eight Prophesies?"

"Do they involve bimorphs?"

"Only in a supporting role in the Prophesy of Extinction."

"Well, no, I don't. I know how to kill lycanthropes. That's what I was trained for."

"Let me put it this way. If that baby is born outside Holy Land, and takes the Imperial Throne according to the laws of progression, it would be, to put it one way, a Bad."

"OK. And this H'Nairre guy likes Bads?"

"More or less."

"Do I get to kill him?"

"If he's around - which is unlikely - I think Zetnel would like that pleasure. She and he have issues."

"She has issues with everyone."

"And you don't?"

This time the puma did sulk.

Zetnel sat impatiently. Thonarax was certainly a speedy flyer, and she wouldn't be getting there much faster if she were flying herself, but flying under somebody else's wing power was trying. To be honest, she didn't care much about the Prophesies. Dragons came out the winners, as far as she could tell. She might even get her form back. But Tr'Riya was a very good friend and a warrior the Dragon Queen could respect: one who didn't consider herself above a bit of murder when the situation called on it. And Riy did care about the Prophesies, and had sacrificed a lot for the prevention of this one. Zetnel would be damned if she was going to let some human male hold her friend hostage just for the sake of a stupid prophesy. She patted her son's head encouragingly, and urged him on, preparing a game plan for the fight.

***

As the convoy reached the edge of the vast forested areas, Blackjack and Shade were both suddenly disorientated by a voice in the heads of each of them. At first, Shade thought it was Raven, but somehow this didn't feel right, as if it was a different voice.

Zetnel! a large black shape was snaking over the mountains towards them. As Shade became aware that this was a black dragon of proportions rivalling Syrax, a movement from the front of their airborne convey distracted him. With a sense of mounting horror, the daemonslayers watched as the humanoid form of Zetnel plummeted from the neck of Thonerax, who didn't seem to notice. Both Blackjack and the Steed - at Shade's bequest - plunged down to catch her. The approaching dragon, however, had an astonishing turn of speed, and dived at her, catching her between its jaws and promptly tossing her up again.

"Ready for some action, Sy?" Shade drew his fireblade, but Soul stopped him by laying a hand on his shoulder.

"Look," she pointed at a tiny shape behind the head of the black dragon. It was Starling, positively somersaulting in the slipstream of his escort. This was evidently Kiltret.

Zetnel landing agilely on the nape of Kiltret's neck, and grinned at Blackjack as the daemonslayers caught up. The black dragon turned and flew on in the direction they were going. Once again, Blackjack and Shade heard the inner voice they had heard before, an exchanged glance between the two of them confirming the other could hear it.

Who're they, Zet?

Dimension hoppers. They've offered to help Riya.

Why?

Seems they've got a vendetta against daemons, or something.

Who's the female?

A werewolf. Sort of. They're all sort of.

I noticed. Noticed them trying to attack me, too.

They didn't know who you were, Tret.

I think he's got a thing for you.

I'm the dragon queen. Of course they do. But you're my darling, Tret.

Can they hear us?

Probably.

Why don't they reply?

Maybe the dragons on their world haven't released their full telepathy. Or maybe they've repressed it.

Zetnel punctuated this with a wink at Blackjack. They were now weaving their way through a mountain range, and Kiltret eventually alighted on a mountain top, and they waited for Vreht to catch up.

Tr'Riya of Setalette, widow of the crown prince S'Hasjhen, sat on the floor of the shallow, damp cave she was being held captive in, steadily returning the gaze of one of her captors: a hungry, longing gaze that betrayed its owners fury that it could not satiate its hunger for the human flesh that sat incapacitated in front of it. H'Nairre had been specific about that: Riya and the royal charge she bore were to remain in the best of health until her purpose as an incubator was fulfilled. Afterwards, she could only gues, but right now, she was needed.

The legendary fencer, traveller and warrior felt frustrated. She couldn't pass the barrier at the entrance of the cave, nor did her limited knowledge of magic stretch anywhere near being able to lift it. She glared at the daemon, and hoped that little Starling had delivered his message adequately.

The staring match was interupted when a young woman rushed into the cave. She raced to the back wall, past the five daemons standing guard, and flattened her back against the wall. Only then did she seem to notice the other occupants to the cave. The daemons smirked, and began to approach this new, permitted meat.

Riya, however, immediately recognised her old friend Silva, the wood witch, and wasn't surprised when a threatening growl rose from the cave mouth, where a large golden mountain lion was standing. Although they had never met, Riya guessed this to be Ky'Lechks, the lover of Silva's late sister, although she didn't recognise the werewolves that entered the cave and flanked him.

The attention of the guards distracted, Silva took Riya's hand and pressed into it a silver amulet. The princess nodded and slipped it over her head. The three creatures had now assumed human form: - Two tall, heavily set men, both with a mass of blonde hair, and a slender, incredibly pretty brunette woman. The man on the far left winked at the daemon that had so wanted to rip Riya to pieces.

"Man, are you gonna love what's in here!" he called out the cave, and the three warriors were quickly joined by a creature unlike anything Riya had ever seen. Standing 7 feet tall, its heavy humanoid build and large, bat like wings suggested it may be a Skylock, but the humanoid features ended at the neck, where a canine muzzle emerged out of a mass of black hair.

The creature was grinning insanely, tossing a large double headed axe easily from hand to hand. "Oh boy, the carnage is gonna be huge!" he laughed.

The larger daemon took this moment to attack, throwing itself at the stranger. The male werewolf, however, took it out with a swing of a sword, with a large fiery blade. The four remaining didn't hesitate, each attacking one of the intruders, who each fought back. The leader, partially recovered, joined in the battle, but the four didn't seem fazed by a slight unfairness in numbers.

"Riy!" a voice called from the cave entrance, where the Dragonqueen stood, a glare challenging her friend as to why she stood and watched her rescuers. Edging around the battle, the princess reached Zetnel and they embraced.

"Tret's outside," the queen told her. "he'll take you to whichever holy land you choose."

"Thanks, Zet," Riya replied, noticing as she left towards the black dragon that his mate joined the winning side in the fight a little too eagerly for even the warrior's taste. The DragonQueen had made some acquaintances she could obviously relate to.

fin

All characters, places and anything else portrayed in this story is copyright 2004 to the author, Isabelle Davis (Drakhenliche), and may not be used without express permission. Meccha/Soul (c) Elsa Lai 2004

Comments, questions, whatever, can be addressed to me at the www.NecroDragon.com forum.