Rion signed into his shift inside the mountain. The damp permeated his human skin, and he transformed into partial Salimantor.

He hadn't slept well. Images of the staircase with the red carpet assailed him, and the beautiful girl who stood on them so grief-stricken.

The fact that he was still obsessing over this incident bothered him greatly. He felt a deafening clamor inside as well, as he recognized his own betrayal of Quildor.

He had met with the Harpyiae. He committed to help her free the intact searcher girl. What he had not done was solidify any plans. She asked for his help, based on his ability to dream answer her. But what else? Nothing.

He was a fool to have agreed. He had given this bird-woman a weapon against him. If she betrayed him to Quildor...

Damn!

She was nothing to him. She offered him nothing.

Beguiling.

Conversant in Zalez.

Powerful, and imploring. She had a strong natural empathy, alluring to men.

Yet she offered him nothing! She did not offer to take him with her. She did not offer him flight.

She had offered him proof that nature was in charge of this planet and not Quildor, and not any Kings of undersea domes.

Yes, and now he knew.

That was all. Why would he risk his life to free the prisoner, even if she was Harpyiae? She would not thank him for it, it was he who had captured her in the first place!

Rion reached out to Crevan. Brother, are you awake?

Yes, Rion, what do you want?

The Harpyiae, Kahlest. She said she had established trust with me. That's a lie. I don't know her at all.

You just realized that?

What, you realized it sooner? You seemed completely smitten after only seeing her!

And you agreed to meet with her based on a dream!

I don't know why I did it.

No, it isn't like you. You are normally more conscious of consequences.

What will be the consequences of association with this Harpyiae? Will she betray us?

By what, introducing herself to Quildor? I think not.

I am inside the mountain, brother, I need to think.

Good, where she cannot get to you and you have time to come to your senses.

Rion felt termination of his contact with Crevan and felt better for having gotten his doubts off his chest. If they were to betray Quildor, it would not be in this way, helping a creature he knew nothing about.

This was because he craved contact with the little Searcher sister. His connection to her had opened his mind to other possibilities.

He sat up, holding his head. He'd never seen her except in a dream vision.

He sensed her.

He projected carefully, finding his way into the tunnels of Sentinel. He pushed past the sea barrier. This time was much easier, he felt compelled. The light he'd seen and felt before was absent. Perhaps it was night in Galantyne's fortress.

She lay on a bed, with sparse white linen blankets. She was dressed in a shift, plain and loose, with a pillow under her head so white that it made her red hair look like spilled wine. He felt someone there, but couldn't take his eyes off the girl. If she looked at all like this in life then she was beautiful.

He didn't know her name.

How could he call to her?

Mistress? Princess?

She moaned slightly in her sleep.

 What happened to you?

Jerrika....

 She is still intact. Does that ease your pain? I can give you that.

  How?

Quildor is keeping her.

Hurt?

No.

Assimilated?

No.

Why?

He couldn't answer her questions, yet felt her slipping into unconsciousness.

Rion withdrew; calm for the first time in hours. He rolled off his back, rubbing his eyes. Things had settled inside him.

He could deal with his rebelliousness.

And Kahlest?

She was a pariah, and if she called on him to release... Jerrika, he would be more careful in ascertaining her plans. What did he want from her? That would have to be dealt with first. Mere knowledge of planetary adaptation and the Aerie wasn't enough. 

The Searcher girl?

He sighed, determined that nothing but a lack of sleep and grief ailed her. She wasn't inside the mountain, and that was all he needed to know.

******

"Jerrika."

She ignored this voice the way she had been ignoring all voices for days. Losira was content, and Jerrika slept.

"Open your eyes."

"They are open." She did not question how the voice had penetrated her barriers, or why her Zalez would have allowed it.

"Your human eyes." The voice commanded and Jerrika felt compelled to obey.

"Jerrika."

She looked down to ascertain her bodily form. Confusion reigned. Was she inside her own Zalez or in another's?

"You are in your own Zalez, Jerrika. I have accessed it, here in your frontal lobes. I pose no danger or threat to you or your kai."

"Who are you?"

"I am Ondrea." The woman had infiltrated her safe "room" and now stood to let Jerrika assess her. She was taller than Jerrika by a few inches, slender, and covered in a long flowing white gown that sparkled with some kind of shimmery feathers.

"I have heard of you." Jerrika forced herself to conjure a chair. "You're dead."

"I accessed your Zalez the first day you arrived in Village Quildor."

"That was you? I heard a voice tell me the way to block Adara the Witch. I thought you were dead." She knew the name Ondrea, and did recognize the woman from her portrait inside Castle Aquaria.

"Zalez is a form of mind control. It exists on this planet. So few utilize its great powers." Ondrea smoothed her gown over her legs. "See how far you have come?" Jerrika's eyes followed hers, seeing her furnishings from the eyes of a stranger. "You have designed this room in your mind, Jerrika, another protection for yourself and your kai."

Jerrika's brows drew together obstinately. "I owe you my gratitude. But may I ask how you are doing this? Is Zalez so powerful it can conjure those who are dead?"

Ondrea's soft laugh tinkled. "I am not dead, Jerrika!"

Not dead! How could she not be dead? Taan's first wife, Kara's mother, had died giving birth to Kara! It was common knowledge. There had been a funeral, witnesses!

"I am Quildor's prisoner." Ondrea went on in a hurried voice. "Like you."

"You didn't die? But they buried you. Taan grieves."

Ondrea's lovely eyes filled with tears. Her lips moved with the name Jerrika had just uttered.

Jerrika winced. "I am sorry! I should have thought.... I'm so sorry."

"No, my dear, do not be sorry. We haven't time." Ondrea took a deep breath, and her face softened as she looked into Jerrika's eyes. "Quildor must not discover the truth of who you are. It is imperative that he not realize your identity. Right now he believes you are Taan's daughter Kara. It is more imperative that you get free."

"Is that why they haven't assimilated me?"

"You resemble her, do you not?" At Jerrika's nod, she took another deep breath. "Outside the castle is a woman with gifts like yours, she is planning a way to get us free. You must help her. Quildor will be here any second, Jerrika. You must be aware, stay in Zalez, but open your frontal lobes and face him. He will try and identify you by a royal marking."

"I have no such marking."

"I know. Only Taan's blood carries it. I am going to give the illusion of the marking to you. Quildor must not find out that you are not Taan's daughter. Zalez can do that. It can change your body temporarily."

"Why can't he know who I am?"

"If he knows you are mine, and you are, then he will know I was unfaithful, and he will kill you."

Jerrika became aware of herself sitting on the floor of the room she was held a prisoner in. Had she fallen here? She struggled to stand as the doorknob turned. She faced Quildor alone; the most hated and feared man in all of the Tri-Realms.

One hand on the carved wooden bedpost, her courage bolstered by the knowledge that Ondrea was also a prisoner here.

"I see you have woken up."

Without warning the clawing scratch of a nail drew into her arm the magical marking that would identify her as Kara. Jerrika's shudder was masked by her frantically beating heart.

"Who are you?"

"Who you are, my dear, is the real question." His presence brought a dark aura. As he approached her, Jerrika would have backed out of his reach, but her pride prompted her to stay. "I am Lord Quildor of Etrusia, and you are currently... my guest."

Jerrika tightened her fists and strove for composure she didn't feel. "What do you want from me?"

"Your name."

Jerrika faced him, her hands trembling so she put them behind her back. "I refuse."

Quildor hunched his shoulders as if he were considering her words, pursed his lips and stroked his chin with one finger. Jerrika stood her ground, though her insides were turning to mush. The man moved carelessly around the room, not coming close to her side of the bed, but giving her a sidelong glance every now and then, as he seemed to work out just what technique he planned to use on her.

He cannot force you, Jerrika.

"Telling me your name, girl, would be the simplest way to identify you."

"You can just kill me."

A startled grunt erupted from his throat, and he leaned against the bedpost. "Kill you? Kill you? My dear! I don't kill your people here! I enslave them."

His eyes narrowed as he observed her like the snake about to spring.

"Then I will kill you!" She screamed.

Before Jerrika could move, the Witch made her first appearance since the day she'd thrown her Kai dagger at her heart. The blackened eyes darted around, taking in Jerrika, the bed, the window, and Quildor.

"Do you still want to kill me, little Searcher Princess?" Quildor laughed as his whole demeanor changed. He leaned far over the bed, one knee up, and one hand resting on the coverlets. Jerrika froze, they had her trapped! "There is a mark, little Searcher girl, a mark that has been found on all the members of pure Aquarian bloodline, a crescent moon. If you are Taan's child, you will have this mark." As he spoke, he began to roll the sleeve of his tunic up his massive forearm. High in the center, on the side where it brushed against his chest, a silver crescent moon resided on the pale skin. Jerrika's breath caught in her throat.

"Show me your mark." He said still rolling his shirt sleeve up. When he was done, he leaned against his hip, resting the arm on his bended knee. Jerrika's eyes flickered from The Witch to Quildor, and she couldn't figure out who terrified her most.

Quildor's sudden movement caused Jerrika to fly across the room away from him, slamming into the window wall. With a loud crack, the glass began to shatter. She ducked and covered her head, as the glass and tapestry came crashing down around her. Adara screamed, casting words and throwing her arms wildly.

Jerrika's heart was pounding, but she knew she had to use this unexpected commotion to get away. Barefoot, she managed to wrap her arm in the tapestry and smash the rest of the glass out of the window to haul herself over the jagged edge. She was through the torn and jagged materials when suddenly her whole body was caught in a wave of excruciating pain, and she felt paralyzed, unable to move her limbs. In her mind, Losira offered her extra power.

Though her ability to move was frozen, her eyes were not. The room had filled with darkness and she saw Adara, with her fingers raised in a weird incantation, assemble the splintered shards in the air above her. They gathered into spear-like pieces and began to hurl through the room toward Jerrika.

When they should have pierced her breast they whirled away from her and reassembled in their original places. Losira had given her the ability to do that. Adara's defeated scream rang out. Jerrika turned to the other occupant of the room, Quildor.

His hands were outstretched as he now sat calmly on the bed, and she knew he was the one holding her immobile, he had control of her body. She began to float closer to him, falling inch by inch toward his evil leer. His fingers turned claw-like, and she could only imagine what kind of damage they'd do if he chose to stab her with them.

One finger crooked and Jerrika's body floated. No, she wailed inside, No!

"I will see the mark, my dear, make no mistake about that."

Losira floated into Jerrika's awareness, offering more help. "Speak to him. Tell him no."

"You have no right!"

"You say, I have no right?" He brought his fist down with a crash on the little table behind him. "No right!"

A strange image came to her. She saw in her mind Ondrea, silver and shadowed, raising her arms above her head, her body framed in lush feathery metal. Enshrouded in that protective shell, she twirled and became... bird. With the image came the knowledge, I am like Ondrea! I have the bird kai! She is my mother!

She raised her hands above her head and forced her mind and body to become one with the image implanted there. She felt the warmth of healing impenetrable gloss, a covering so fine as to render her no longer subject to Quildor's whims. She became as stone, safe inside her feather cocoon.

"Ondrea!"

Adara had fallen to the ground, whimpering in dismay. This child! She had Ondrea's power!

Quildor gnashed his teeth in animosity and he skirted the molten silver woman/ bird now untouchable and dashed toward the door. There was no use yelling his ire at Adara, she'd not been able to penetrate Ondrea's powers either. Their combined efforts could hold Ondrea, but not force her in any other way. Now, she'd somehow imparted her energy to this child!

He slammed the door, not caring that the four guards who were standing at attention, cowered away from his wrath. Of course, the child was Ondrea's daughter! He needn't see the mark to know that her blood ran in the girl's veins. How else could she change into this form? She was the Princess!

"Ondrea!"

*****