The men rose early the next morning, before the sun had even started to show its soft glow from the horizon. But this morning was different than the prior one. There was more merriment in the camp, and men joked and talked back and forth warmly. It was quite an improvement from the days past.

As she gathered her things Zia reflected again on the brilliance of Heath's idea to get to know one another. There was less tension in the group, and the packing went more smoothly because everyone was helping each other out. Four men worked together to saddle up all the horses while laughing and talking merrily. Three others gathered supplies and helped spread the ashes of their dead campfire from last night.

Zia's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of someone clearing his throat behind her. She twirled around to find Jay. He smiled at her, but she did not return the cheerful grin; she worried that this might be the moment she had been dreading- the moment when she would be requested to share her past. Of course, Jay had asked her last night at the campfire, but he obviously hadn't expected her to answer with that number of people around... Had he?

"How did you sleep?" Jay asked.

Zia froze. That wasn't what she had expected at all. After a slight hesitation she replied, "Fine, thanks."

He nodded and they fell into silence. Avoiding Jay's eyes, Zia bent to grab her sleeping cot.

"Oh," Jay said, bending low, "let me get that."

"I've got it- Ouch!" She and the Captain both rubbed their heads where they had collided.

"Sorry, miss," Jay muttered unhappily.

Zia stared hard at him. "My name is Zia, not 'miss'."

Jay laughed. "You know, when we met you would have been too scared to say anything like that. Or anything at all for that matter."

Zia stiffened. Here it comes, she thought.

"Speaking of when you were younger, what happened to you after the execution? Now you don't have to answer," he added quickly. "I understand if you don't. I was just thought I'd ask without so many listening ears."

And there it is, Zia thought unhappily. She sighed deeply. "I went to live with Arch and Ike."

Jay snorted. "Well, I know that," he said. "Do you take me for an idiot?"

"You don't want me to answer that," Zia decided as she made her way to her horse.

"You insult me!" Jay said, feigning hurt.

"I am only returning the favor," Zia told him as she tied her belongings on the back of her horse's saddle.

His voice deep and serious, Jay asked, "How have I insulted you? I'm sorry, I meant no offense."

Zia turned to face him and looked him straight in the eye. "Captain, my past is a very painful, dark, and brooding place, and I do not wish to visit it, if I can avoid it."

"I understand," Jay said quietly. "Forgive me, but you cannot blame me for being curious. You just fell off the face of the earth. The King sent me to village to look for you to offer you protection until Daxtor could be found, but I never found you."

Zia had never known that. "I don't blame you," she  assured him. "But a lot has happened in the last few years, and I've found a new and better life. So I'm sorry if I seem cold and rude, Captain, but you played a key part in giving me this life, and now that you're back I fear you're here to take it away."

"I would never do that," Jay assured her quickly. "I'm not here to do that. I'm here to end a war."

"Then we're on the same team," she told him happily.

She went to go back to her packing, but Jay called her back. "Zia," he said. "I'm sorry if I've offended you somehow."

"I know," she said with a smile. "Now, if you'll excuse me, Captain, I still have things to gather before we depart."

"How long until we find them, do you think?" Ryker asked Jay as they rode through the Pass.

"The Skilaens were about three day's ride to the entrance of the Pass the day we left, which was two days ago, so I'd say they're about a day's ride from the entrance."

"How long is the Pass?" Hamish wondered.

"It's nine days' ride all the way through," Jay informed them. This is our second day in the Pass, so I'd say we would meet them in... four days, tonight."

"Four days?" Ryker whined.

"Give or take," Jay added.

Ryker groaned again.

"Oh, buck up, Ryker," Ike called from the rear of the company. "No one likes a whiny baby."

Laughs went through the men, and a small giggle escaped Zia's lips. She could sense that Ike was intentionally baiting Ryker, daring him to do something. She only struggled in finding out why.

Ryker turned in his saddle and glared at Ike. "I'm no baby, pretty boy."

"Thank you," Ike said. "You see, Heath? I am pretty!"

More laughs rang through the Pass, the echo very loud.

"You know, you are, Ike," Heath said looking his friend up and down. "I guess I've just never seen you from this angle before." He cleared his throat and spoke in a deep, formal voice. "Shall I compare thy beauty to a cabbage patch? Or perhaps an unmucked stable?"

Zia laughed and snorted until her sides hurt. "A stable?" she giggled. "Very original, Heath."

Heath let out a burst of laughter. He bowed deeply and gallantly, like a true gentleman. "Why thank you, m'lady!"

Ike's mouth was hanging open in surprise, staring at the exchange. "I look like my mother, thank you very much!"

"Are you sure, Ike?" Heath asked him. "I've heard your mother was a lovely sight. Surely you can't look like her!"

A flash of hurt crossed Ike's face as laughter reigned once again, but he quickly covered it up. It was only there for a moment, but Zia was sure it was there.

She did not join in the laughing this time. Instead, she rode her horse in silence, shocked at the thought that Heath would say such a thing. He knew that Serina was a sensitive subject for Ike! Zia's shock turned to hurt, and her hurt turned to anger. How could he not realize what he's done? They're best friends!

She marveled at how only a few moments ago she had been laughing, feeling happy because she had addressed the dragon in the room with Jay, and it had all been ruined by a handful of careless words.

The company rode on until the sun was directly above them, saving them from their chill that came from the shadows of the canyon walls.

"Let's stop here," Jay suggested once the sun had reached its peak. "I'm famished."

"I like th' way ye think, Cap'n," Archibald said as he dismounted his amber horse. The other men followed his example and they all gathered around in the sunlight, soaking in the sun on rocks as they chewed dried beef.

Zia sat by herself, a little off from the rest of the group, seething with anger towards Heath. She chewed angrily on her dried fruit and glared at Heath's back. And to think only this morning she had been admiring him for bringing the company all together!

Zia glanced at Ike, sitting next to Heath. His head was down and his look was far off, as though in a sad daydream. The look on his face broke Zia's heart and she could no longer sit there while her brother was hurting.

She quickly devised a plan and put it into action. Standing, she made her way over to her horse and pretended to check the stirrups for a few moments. Finally, she looked up and called to the circle of men, "Heath? I think something's wrong with my stirrups. Could you come take look?"

Heath turned to face her and smiled as he stood. "Of course!" he called. He strode towards her, whistling merrily.

His jaunty behavior just infuriated Zia more, and she could have sworn that her body heat levels rose. Did the stupid boy feel no remorse for causing his best friend such pain?

Zia was on the side of the horse that was furthest away from the other men, just as she had planned. She didn't want everyone to know what was going on, so she had chosen this side knowing that the horse would provide a little protection from prying eyes. It was a rather large horse, and from the men's view, it covered from her mid-thigh to her collarbone. It would be sufficient in the case that she lost her temper and started to throw a fit.

Heath joined her on the far side of the horse. He took the stirrup from her hands and examined it. "What seems to be the problem?"

"You, you idiot!" she snapped.

Startled by her outburst, Heath looked wide-eyed at her. "Me? What did I do to your stirrups?"

She smacked him upside the head, his brown hair tickling her palm. "I'm not talking about the bloody stirrup, you dimwitted troll!" She felt bad about hitting him as soon as her hand made contact with his head. Her worst fear was to become anything like Daxtor in any way, and what she just did was definitely something he would do. She should know; he did it to her enough times when she hadn't swept the floor properly.

Heath's green eyes widened. "Dimwitted troll?" he said, outraged. "What have I done to make you so angry and disrespectful?"

"Oh, now you're worried about being disrespectful!" Zia fought hard to keep herself from full-out yelling at him, and she barely contained the desire to hit him again.

"What are you talking about?" Heath demanded. He was red in the face and was getting angry too. "I've done nothing!"

Zia groaned and rolled her eyes, throwing her hands up in the air in exasperation. "Men! You all say whatever you want without taking into account the feelings of anyone else! You say whatever thing happens to come to mind without a second thought of how your words might make someone feel!" As she spoke she was reminded of her conversation with Jay that morning. He had tried to invade her past, a place that brought her to tears each time she visited. The memory of being terrified as Daxtor stood over her with a knife- the feeling of helplessness- was not something she wanted to remember. Yet it was always in the back of her mind.

"What on earth are you talking about, Zia? What have I done to offend you?" Heath was definitely mad now; his chest was moving up and down quickly and his voice was rising.

"Not me!" Zia nearly shouted at him. Honestly! she thought. Men can be so thick! "Ike! It's what you've done to offend Ike!"

"What have I done?" Heath demanded.

"His mother, you dolt!" Zia finally screamed. She felt the eyes of the men staring over at them, but she didn't care anymore. Lowering her voice to an enraged whisper, she spat out, "What were you thinking, insulting the only connection he has to his mother?"

"His only connection?" Heath asked, now looking confused.

"He looks like his mother, Heath!" Zia had to try hard to make herself call him by name and not something rude. "And this morning you not only insulted that, but you also made him the laughing stock of the whole company!"

Understanding dawned in Heath's eyes. He paled and his eyes widened. "Oh, my," he whispered. "I didn't realize-"

"You bring back painful memories for your best friend and the only thing you say is 'oh, my'?" Zia demanded, getting heated up again. "What you should be saying is a very sincere apology to him."

Heath's face hardened again. "Who are you, my mother?"

"No, your mother's dead too. You of all people should understand how Ike might feel." Zia felt a twinge of guilt at the look of shock and hurt on Heath's face, but she knew that in order for him to truly feel remorseful, Heath had to experience the pain that he caused Ike. She regretted making him feel so sorrowful, but it had to be done- at least, that was the way Zia saw it in the heat of the moment.

Heath stared at her open mouthed, hurt, sadness, and anger all displayed on his face. He narrowed his eyes at her. "Why does this mean so much to you?" he suddenly asked. "Ike is the one I caused pain, not you, so why are you so involved in it?"

Good question, Zia thought. Why did she care so much? Normally, her instant reply would be that Ike was her segregate brother and she wanted to keep him from harm. This was true in this case, but she felt even more attached to this than usual. Finally, the answer came to her, and she voiced it, looking Heath straight in the eye: "Because, like Ike, I never knew my mother. Arch is like a father to me, and Ike a brother. They're my family, and I know Serina would be more than a mother to me if she were alive."

Heath was silent for a long time. Finally, Zia could no longer stand the awkwardness of the quiet. "Now go and apologize to Ike. And do something nice for him while you're at it."

Things were very icy between Zia and Heath the next day. Even though Heath had made a very sincere apology to Ike, who had waved it off as if it were nothing, both Zia and Heath were still offended, and seldom spoke to one another as they rode.

Their mood seemed to be affecting the rest of the company, and the men were quiet as they rode. The only ones who spoke were Jay and Will, who would discuss things quietly, sensing the dark mood that hung over their party.

Zia heard the clopping of hooves as Ike sped up his horse to match her pace. Zia watched him out of the corner of her eye as he very subtly rubbed the side of his nose twice with the edge of his thumb. Zia knew the gesture to mean: I have something to say.

Sighing, Zia slowly reached up and tugged on her ear: I'm listening.

When Zia was little, she used to talk with her hands a lot. So much, in fact, that Ike had begun to mock her, making his hands look like claws when he got angry or frustrated; or he would hit his fist into the palm of his hand to indicate that he was going to hit something. At first, Zia had been offended at his mockery, and to make things even, she would exaggerate Ike's mockery. Not to be outdone, Ike even invented some gestures of his own. Unknowingly, Ike and Zia had created their own series of signs and sounds for their most common words and phrases. As they grew older, Zia and Ike used their secret language to get into trouble and mischief. It was one of the few things that they hadn't included Heath in; Zia didn't want Heath to mock her too.

Ike pointed at her, shook his head slightly, pointed two fingers at his eyes, punched a fist into his palm, and pointed a thumb to Heath, who was trotting slowly behind them: You don't have to look like you're going to smack him.

In reply, Zia rolled her eyes, pointed a thumb at Heath, mimed eating something off a fork, and knocked on her head: Of course I do; he's a muttonhead.

Ike laughed out loud and they both ignored the stares and looks of concern for their mental heath that everyone sent them.

Once he'd stopped laughing, Ike pointed to himself, gently patted his chest where his heart was, and then pointed a thumb at Heath once again: I've forgiven him.

"Will you two stop that?" Heath snapped. "Don't you know it's rude to point at people?"

Zia cast him a glare, and then returned to Ike. She gave Ike a thumbs up and then pointed a finger at his chest: Good for you.

Ike put his hands palms-up at his shoulders, shrugged, made an X with his fingers, and pointed at Zia: Why can't you?

Zia folded her arms and looked away: Not happening.

Ike raised an eyebrow and shrugged: Why not?

Zia cupped her hand over her mouth: I'm not telling you.

Ike raised a brow, shrugged, placed one hand on the other, face up, shook his head, and tapped his chin twice: Why? Because you're too scared?

She crossed her eyes at him and pointed to herself: Of course I am.

Ike gave out another laugh, and more strange looks were shot his way, but once again he ignored them. Instead, he turned to Zia, shrugged, pointed his thumb at Heath, and ran his finger across his throat. Then he proceeded to mime someone walking with his hands, point at her, and then patted his belly twice: What if Heath were to die on this journey? Do you want the guilt of not forgiving him on your hunger?

Zia cocked her head to the side and raised her eyebrows. You didn't need to know their secret language to know that she was asking: What?

Ike made a series of hand gestures that Zia understood to mean: If Heath were to die, you would feel guilty for not forgiving him, and you wouldn't be able to eat because you would be so full of guilt. Therefore, he's death would be on your hunger.

Zia replied with more hand motions: How could anyone follow that? That's completely mental!

That's how I role, sister, Ike signed, circling his fists around each other again and again. To add to his silliness, Ike moved his upper body with his right arm, so that his body moved like a worm. If that wasn't enough, Ike was also dancing his eyebrows at Zia, and making faces at her. He didn't stop the fun until a bark of laughter tore from Zia's mouth. She had tried very hard to keep a serious face, and she even glared at him, but Ike was persistent and didn't stop until she started to smile, then giggle, then laugh, and then snort.

"Are you dancing?" Heath asked. The look on his face was truly priceless. His eyebrows were scrunched up and his mouth was slightly agape, looking both confused and horrified at once.

That's when Zia lost it completely, and she could no longer hold in her giggles, laughs, or snorts. All came tumbling out of her like the dam that held them back had broken. The confusion on Heath's face deepened, and it set Zia into a new fit of giggles as soon as she had gotten herself composed again.

Zia finally got a hold on her laughter and tried to ignore the stares that said, She's lost it as she rode on. No matter how hard she tried, though, a giggle got out every once in a while.

"Hush!" Jay snapped, and the men approached him more quietly. 

When the sun had set and the stars had come out to share their light, Percival had noticed a distant glow of a big fire around a large bend in front of them. Jay had selected a small group- himself, Percival, Archibald, and Zia- to check the fire and anyone who might have started it.

The group was five meters from the curve of the bend, and they could hear the laughter of men and see the shadows of people walking past the fire on the far canyon wall. They were hidden in shadows and there were large rocks where the group could stand and move about without making any noise.

"Here's the plan," Jay whispered to his group. "I'll go around the bend and stay in the shadows while I do some looking aroun-"

"I'll do that," Zia volunteered.

Jay shook his head. "I'll do it. Besides, the only reason I let you come is because you would have followed anyway."

"While true," Zia conceded, "think for a moment. This is a situation that requires much stealth, correct?"

Jay nodded, not sure where she was going with this.

"Then I'm the perfect choice," she said. "I'm the smallest and the lightest, so my footfalls won't be as loud, and it's easier to hide something small in the shadows than something large and bulky. And, I'm not wearing that flashy armor." Zia knocked a fist lightly on the Guard's metal chestplate. "The light from the fire will be reflected off you and it will draw attention to you." She touched her own breastplate. "Leather doesn't reflect light."

Zia fought hard to hide her smile of triumph as Jay connected the dots. "Alright," he finally said. "But be very careful. This is just an observation, not a sneak attack."

Zia shrugged. "Not my usual style, but I'm flexible."

Zia lightly placed her feet as she shuffled silently around the bend, staying in the shadows. She crept forward like a cat, her soft leather boots barely making a sound against the dry earth. She took each step carefully, always lightly placing her foot and feeling with her toes for any small, loose rocks that she might disturb before placing her full weight on it.

Zia found herself underneath a shelf of rock that had grown out from the rest of the canyon wall, and it bathed her in shadows, keeping her unseen. It was from this point that Zia took in the scene in front of her. There were about thirty or so men in the camp, most of them gathered around a large bonfire, drinking and laughing. From her experience as a child, Zia knew that most of them were drunk. They were wobbly even sitting down, and they leaned on one another and pushed each other. One man even fell from a large rock he was sitting on, bringing laughter and finger pointing from his companions.

To Zia's left there was a large wagon. She couldn't see inside, but she was willing to bet her left leg that it contained weapons, spices, and other goods that people would be dying to get their hands on.

Zia's attention was drawn to the campfire as a large, unshaven man stood shakily, a bottle in his hand. "Great raid this week, fellas!" he shouted, raising his bottle. "A toast!" The men around him lifted mugs and bottles in the air. "To the Skilaens! For having such great things to... liberate! What would us poor Otarians do without them?" His men cheered and drank deeply.

"As you all know," the man continued with a hiccup, "we have a very special guest with us tonight!" Cheers went up and so did heads as the men drank again. "Gustav, go fetch our lovely guest."

A large man dressed in a large fur coat stood and walked heavily towards the wagon, disappearing behind it for a moment. When the man reappeared he was holding on to a small silhouette, who pushed away from him. Zia could tell that the dark form was a woman, and the catcalls and jeers that the men sent her made Zia's skin crawl and made her want to hide in a hole.

She's a prisoner, Zia thought as the large man threw the girl away from him and into the circle of men. Jeers and laughter came from the men. Now that the girl was near the light, Zia could see her more clearly, Her face was white and beaded with sweat. Her dress was torn and tattered and her bare feet were cut and bleeding. Her eyes shone with terror, and her face was bruised.

Anger like none other pierced Zia like a sharp blade. Her blood was on fire and her breathing came in deep, heavy pants. Every muscle was taut and posed to attack. She gripped her sword at her belt, ready to draw it at any moment. These men were no better than Daxtor, taking advantage of a poor, frightened girl.

If Zia hadn't been able to control her temper, she would have stormed right into the middle of the circle of men, collected the girl, and taken down whoever blocked her path on the way. But, fortunately, Zia only just managed to make herself quietly move back to the others around the bend instead of charging at the drunk men.

"What did you find?" Jay asked immediately. Then, after taking a closer inspection at her, he added, "And why do you look like you're ready to charge a bull?"

"They're thieves," Zia said through gritted teeth.

"And what's the problem with that?" Jay asked. "If they're Reems' men, we-"

"They're not Thieves of Otar," Zia said angrily. "They're just regular thieves. And they're coming from Skilae. They have stolen goods on a large wagon that they plan on selling in Otar." She described everything she saw and heard: the wagon; the fire; the stolen goods. "And they also have a girl."

"Kidnapped?" Jay asked, hand on his sword hilt.

Zia nodded. "I'd bet my left leg on it. She's terrified, and that kind of terror only comes from not knowing where you are and who you're with."

"So you've seen th' likes afore?" Archibald asked.

Zia nodded. "Coral, another woman in the Thieves. We rescued her from a fire that had burned down her village. The rest of her family didn't make it, and she fought like a demon trying to run away from us. It wasn't until we explained what was going on that she finally calmed down. The only thing that confuses me is why the raiders want the Skilaen girl in the first place."

"Slave trade," Jay said immediately. "It's a highly illegal yet highly practiced trade in the Otarian black market. We've been hunting down men like them for years, trying to find the location of the black market, but we've always turned up empty-handed."

"What's th' plan, Cap'n?" Archibald asked.

"We attack," Zia said simply, not even caring that the question was no addressed to her. "I will not stand by and watch those men treat the woman like that. Besides, we'll have to face them eventually. If we don't cross paths tonight, we will tomorrow. Better to do it tonight when we have the upper hand; we have the element of surprise on our side, and most of the men are all drunk- they'll be too shaky to defend themselves."

"But this could be the perfect opportunity to find the black market! And we can't just take the lives of these men!" Jay protested.

"Sure we can," Percival said. Zia was surprised to hear him speak because he had hardly ten a dozen words the entire journey. "They've crossed the Otar-Skilae border illegally- punishable by banishment-, kidnapped a young girl- punishable by death-, and stolen goods from another country- punishable by banishment. Even if they hadn't taken the girl, two crimes punishable by banishment equals the death sentence. We'll just be bringing the ceremony a little ways from the capitol. Besides, how are we going to follow them? Not to mention that our mission has higher priority, considering the fate of all Otar might depend on us completing it."

"But-" Jay started.

"There's no buts here, Captain," Percival said firmly. "It's either they go or we do, and considering our cause, I'm going to go with them."

"Surprise, surprise," Zia muttered.

Jay seemed to wage an inward battle. Percival had a point, and a very valid one at that, but Jay had always been a firm believer that the punishment of death should be considered very carefully. Human life was important to him, and very valuable, and he did not feel like he had the right to take their lives without a proper, fair trial.

As if reading his thoughts, Percival said quietly, "I'm sure His Majesty would agree."

Taking a deep breath, Jay said to Archibald, "Alright. Go get the others. And tell them to bring their weapons."