"Right, then, what weapons do we have?" Jay said softly. 

The party had gathered a few meters from the bend so that they would be able to make a plan in relative safety. Zia had assured Jay that most of the men were drunk (she understood the effects of alcohol better than most), but even under the influence of the drugs they would be a dangerous enemy, especially since they outnumbered their own group and they had a hostage.

"Us Guards have one longsword and three daggers each," Percival said, "And the little miss has a sword as well."

"The 'little miss' has a name," Zia muttered. "I also have a knife in my boot," she said louder.

"I have my bow," Heath added. "And a few quivers full of arrows.

"I've also got some throwing knives," Ike said. "Oh, I have a sword as well, but I'm not that great with it."

Jay took inventory of the rest of the weapons at their disposal. They had many longbows, swords, daggers, and crossbows. Ryker smugly added a battle-axe to the list, and his brother, Hamish, added a large mace. There were a few spears here and there and old Will had a deadly looking war-scythe.

"Wha' kind of weapon is tha'?" Archibald asked as a weapon was added to the inventory. A tall man, Ed- Zia remembered from Heath's introduction circle- was holding an odd-looking weapon. It was made of light wood that was smooth and polished, large on one side and gradually lost its thickness the further down the weapon you looked. The wood was slightly curved, as if made for a hand to rest comfortably on it, and it was rather small. There was no point or blade to be found on it, and Zia was beginning to wonder how something that small could be deadly. Then again, she reminded herself, that's often what people thought of her before she had a knife to their throat.

"It's called an atlatl," Ed said defensively. "It can be quite dangerous."

"How?" Ryker demanded, his arms crossed across his chest. "The worst you can do with that is hit them on the head!"

"Obviously there's more to it than you think," Zia said coldly, giving the large man a dangerous glare.

"Thank you, Miss Zia," Ed said. "It's rather like a mixture between a spear and a bow; that is, if the bow doesn't have any string." He reached behind him and pulled a large arrow-like dart from a quiver on his back. "There's a small hole in the large end, and you set the end of the dart in there." He demonstrated as he spoke, and all leaned in closely to get a better look at what many of them had thought was a useless piece of oak. "Then, you swing it all forward as if you're going to throw it, but in reality, you hold on to the handle while the dart goes flying."

There were a few "aah"s and "oh"s as the group understood now that the atlatl was in fact a deadly weapon.

"I think you might be the most dangerous one of this team, Ed," Jay said, a broad smile on his face.

Ed flushed with pleasure, and he was opening his mouth to say something when Ryker gruffly said, "Are we going to stand here all night plaiting each others' hair or are we going to get on with this?"

"You're right, Ripper," Percival said.

"It's Ryker."

Percival shrugged indifferently. "We've got to set a plan into motion soon or we'll lose our chance."

Jay nodded several times, sorbing up. "Of course. Alright, here's the plan..."

Zia breathed softly as she got into position. She ran through the plan once more in her head, trying to calm her nerves. Despite having been fighting for years, this always happened to Zia at a time like this. Her stomach would knot itself and the adrenaline would start to rush. She wiped her sweaty palm on the hem of her tunic so her sword wouldn't fall out of her hand when the time came to unsheathe it.

In the shadows around her, the rest of the group was getting into position. Ed was crouched in the shadow of the large shelf across from where Zia was now hidden, as planned, and Heath stood silently, bow loaded, above him in the shadows. Ike was hidden behind the large wagon with Percival. Archibald, Ryker, and Hamish were concealed a few meters from them on the other side of the canyon. Zia was on the same side, taking the position closest to the bend. The rest of the party was either hidden behind the bend or crouched low a hundred meters from behind the wagon, all ready to catch any of the smugglers who tried to escape. How they were able to get so many large, loud men to surround the smugglers without being seen was beyond Zia, but somehow they did it. Though, she was sure that the smugglers' drunken state helped with that.

Looking back, Zia realized that waiting was the worst part of the whole thing. Be patient, she scolded herself. Just wait for the signal. So she waited... and waited... and waited... and waited. For what seemed like hours she sat silently in the shadows, listening to the men around the fire laugh and drink. Sitting there watching them made all her anger return in full, and she could barely restrain herself from attacking. But somehow the practical side of her brain, which usually stayed dormant, told her that if she attacked now she would give away her group and a lot of innocent people would die because of her.

The kidnapped Skilaen girl had momentarily been forgotten about, and she was trying to stay that way by standing back in the shadows, close to the wagon where Zia's companions where hidden. She looked as if she wanted to run and never look back, but she didn't. She's smart, Zia thought. She'd never outrun thirty large, fighting men, even if most of them were drunk. Besides, if she were to run in the direction of the wagon she would scream when she found more armed men waiting silently behind it, and that would give Zia and her company away.

Just when Zia thought she might explode of anxiety, something streaked out of the darkness and plunged itself into the smugglers' fire. It was an arrow, and the feathered end quivered as the flames licked the wooden shaft.

Some of the more sober smugglers looked at the flaming arrow curiously, but most of the men either ignored it or didn't notice it, and continued to drink.

There it is, Zia thought excitedly. She began to count silently, waiting for a moment before she dove in as the attack slowly began. Men dropped at random from all sides, making the thieves' numbers steadily drop as arrows struck them in the chest, head, and neck.

The smugglers were now very confused, and it showed on their faces when two more men went down, arrows protruding from their backs. All the men were silent, and three more went down before, all at once, the rest of Zia's party attacked.

Zia drew her dagger from her boot and threw it into the back of the first man she saw. She slipped from the safety of the shadows and unsheathed her sword, attacking the nearest man and taking him down with a single stroke. She only stopped on her way to her next victim to retrieve her knife from her kill's back.

One man saw her and turned on her, grabbing a sheathed sword leaning against a nearby log as he went. She charged at him, her sword raised, and took him down before he could even draw his weapon.

The other men started to understand what was going on and began to arm themselves. They rushed awkwardly into battle, some falling over their companions in their drunken state.

Out of the corner of Zia's eye she could see Jay, Archibald, and Percival each taking down one man after the other. She heard cries of pain as men went down from the darts of the unseen Ed and Heath and the throwing knives of Ike. They were all very good shots, and more and more men went down as each minute passed.

The sounds of battle enveloped Zia as she fought, blades ringing and steel clashing against steal. Swinging her sword with expert speed and strength, Zia fought like a demon. The anger that had built up in her chest since discovering the kidnapped girl burst like a bubble and she took out man after man, her sword a deadly arc that cut down anyone stupid enough to defy her.

Through her blind rage Zia heard Jay's voice say, "Now, Ike!" and her brother's form ran like the wind to where the poor, frightened girl lay in the fetal position, shaking like an autumn leaf. He scooped her up in his arms, and despite the girl's screams of fright, he carried her away from the battle to safety.

Zia's attention was brought back to the battle in front of her. Before her stood an extremely tall man with arms as big as her waist. She couldn't see his face because his back was to the fire, but even without it Zia could tell he was dangerous. He was roughly two meters tall, with hands larger than Zia's whole face, and in one of those hands was a large, evil-looking mace on a chain. Worst of all, he was coming straight for her.

The man's bulging muscles tightened as he prepared to swing his mace. Zia saw the movement and knew that there was no way she could parry the crushing blow that the mace would send with her sleek sword. It would likely snap in two!

The man swung, bringing the large, spiky mace toward her in a blow that would have broken her skull if she hadn't tucked and rolled, coming up behind him. The man turned around quickly, holding the mace high, ready to swing. The mace came hurtling towards Zia's head so fast she barely cleared her head of the swing in time.

Swings came from left, right, and even above, and Zia was defenseless against them. Ducking and dodging was the only thing keeping Zia alive.

As the man raised his arms for another swing, Zia noticed that his entire torso was exposed. If she was fast, she could get a few cuts here and there before she had to dodge the huge metal ball of spikes. Of course, he did have hard leather armor on, but, if Zia was lucky, she could get a few slashes in the chinks.

And that's just what she did. She danced around the mountain of a man, making small slashes on his sides and back, but they were a hindrance more than a series of injuries, and they only seemed to make the large man angrier. His swings became more powerful in his frustration and he had a dark fire raging in his eyes.

Zia was wearing out. She was in great shape, but her breathing was coming in deep gasps, and the sword in her hand was beginning to feel slow, sluggish, and heavy. It was all she could do to just barely avoid getting her head removed by the giant mace.

The large man took notice of Zia's decreasing speed, and he began to make his attacks in faster succession. As one speeding blow came hurtling towards Zia's head, she knew, no matter how fast she was, she would not be able to dodge the mace. With a sudden burst of speed, Zia raised her sword to protect her head, and she felt as the chain wrapped around her weapon. The man pulled his weapon back, yanking Zia's sword from her grasp, leaving her defenseless. The man tossed her sword to the side, completely out of Zia's reach.

Zia retreated from the bulky form in front of her, trying to increase the distance between herself and the man who was not her doom. Her opponent, however, closed half the space with one long, deadly stride. Zia stepped back more quickly, which was the biggest mistake she made. In her haste, her heel caught on one of the logs that littered the Pass floor, and she fell back, landing on her hands, cutting them on sharp rocks beneath her. She shout in pain and surprise, but the ignored the stinging as scrambled backward until she felt the cool rock of the side of Pass on her back.

She was trapped.

Zia considered calling for help, but there would be none, she knew. Everyone was too busy with their own fights. Even if anyone wasn't fighting, most of them would be too far away to help. Defeated, Zia faced the inevitable, and looked at her death bearing down on her. She looked the man boldly in the eye, even though she could see his face. Her last moment would be one of defiance; she wasn't going to cower in fear.

Heath surveyed the fight from above on his shelf of rock above Ed, who was taking down men with his deadly atlatl left and right. Heath lifted his bow and shot down a drunk man who had spotted them and was stumbling towards them. He went down with a grunt, and Heath turned back to the battlefield. He heard a shout of pain, and he looked around for where it came from. Of course, there were cries of pain from everywhere as the fight raged on, but this cry was different from the others. It was the cry of a woman- the cry of Zia.

Heath scanned the fight waging in the canyon, but he didn't see her.

Out of the corner of his eye, Heath saw a flash of gold. His eyes trained on where the flash was and surveyed the area. He could see Zia now. She was on the ground, scrambling backward on her hands from a large, shadowy form with a dangerous looking mace and chain in his hand. Glinting in the light of the fire lay Zia's discarded sword.

Realization dawned on Heath and he jumped into action. He reached behind him for an arrow from his quiver, but came back empty handed. Tossing his bow aside, he leaped gracefully down from the ledge, bending his legs and ankles and tucking into a roll to absorb the shock. He rolled to his feet and started to run across the canyon, bending down to scoop up Zia's fallen sword as he went.

The vast form in front of Zia raised his hefty arm, preparing for the final blow that would end her life. She breathed deeply as she waited for the pain to come.

But it never did.

Just as the man was about to bring down the mace, the point of a sword protruded from his belly. The man's eyes widened in surprise and his silent lips breathed out his pain. He dropped his mace and his arms fell to his side. The sword tip was pulled from his stomach and he gasped in pain as his hand fell limp, dropping the mace being him. He fell to his knees, revealing Heath, panting slightly, holding Zia's sword in his hands.

"Heath!" She had never been more happy to see him in all her life. She leaped to her feet. "Perfect timing. Thank you."

He smiled. "Don't mention it."

"I'm so sorry, Heath." She found herself apologizing fiercely for all the rude things she had ever done to him. "I'm so sorry. I was wrong to-"

"It's okay, Zia. It's alright," he said.

The adrenaline faded from Zia's body and the fear of what had just happened sunk in and she started to shake. She felt like a little girl again, when Daxtor had a knife raised above her head. The same fear coursed through her, and she started to feel shaky. She fell to the ground in an attempt to steady herself.

"Hey, hey, it's okay," Heath said soothingly as he sat beside her on the ground. "You're alright. Just take deep breaths." The last of the fighting was dying down, so it was safe to stop and rest.

Zia did as Heath instructed and breathed deeply until she calmed down and her hands stopped shaking.

"Thank you, Heath," she said at last. "You saved my life."

He gave her a half smile. "Well, what else was I supposed to do? Sit back and eat roasted pork?"

She huffed a small laugh. "I wouldn't have blamed you if you didn't." Her smile disappeared. "Some friend I am."

"You were right to yell at me. I shouldn't have mentioned Ike's mother. Sometimes I can be a bit of a muttonhead."

She gave him a small smile. "Still, I wouldn't have blamed you if you hadn't done anything."

Heath shook his head. "Maybe not, but I would have blamed me."

A small smile played on Zia's lips and they fell silent. Zia couldn't think of how to properly express her gratitude and appreciation, and she searched desperately for an answer.

They sat in silence until Zia blurted out, "You know you're my best friend, right?" It may have seemed casual and friendly to any one else, but the words ran much deeper than one would think.

Heath, taken aback by the sudden burst of words, laughed gently. "I thought that was Ike?"

Zia shook her head. "He's my brother. You're my best friend." She didn't really understand why she was saying this, but she didn't try to stop it. Not because she thought they were grand and extravagant, but because they were true, and she needed Heath to know how deeply she cared for him. It was the only way she could think of making it up to him.

Heath gave her a full smile, his eyes sparkling in the firelight. "Thank you. Don't tell Ike, but you're my best friend too."

Zia rolled her eyes and bumped his shoulder with her own. "Yeah, right. I'm sure you say the same thing to Ike."

Heath shrugged and gave her his trademark half-smile. "Guilty."

"Heath! Zia!" Jay's voice rang through the Pass. "Get over here!"

They hit the ground running and made their way over behind the supply wagon where Ike had taken the captured girl. She was backed up against a wagon wheel, shaking like she was having a seizure. The rest of their company was surrounding her, pushing each other aside to get a better look at her. Ike was the closest one to her, speaking softly that things were alright and that she was safe. Despite the assurance, the girl was still terrified, and her eyes were wide and her irises were nearly nonexistent.

"Step back," Zia ordered and she took a step forward. "All of you, get back. She's terrified."

The men started to disperse, grumbling and complaining about being bossed around by a small girl.

Zia slowly stepped toward the girl, and crouched low so that she could see the girl's face better. She was about Zia's age and her skin was pale as the moon. Her dark brown ratty hair was plastered to her face with sweat and her dark red dress was tattered and torn. Her eyes were a very deep brown that could have been mistake for black. Her eyes kept darting back and forth, and her chest heaved up and down as she started to hyperventilate.

"Hey, it's okay," Zia said softly. "You're alright. We're here to help you." The girl wouldn't look them in the eyes, and she had tears springing from her her own.

"That's right," Ike agreed, speaking in the same soft tone. "We won't hurt you. Take some deep breaths."

"My name is Zia," she continued. " And this is my brother, Ike. What's your name?"

"I-I-I'm E-E-E-Elaina." Her voice was rough and weak, and she was failing a taking deep, calming breaths.

"Hello, Elaina," Zia said kindly. "Would you like some water?"

The girl glanced at Zia and nodded eagerly. "Please."

"I have some," Heath said. He stepped forward and offered a drinking skin to Ike, who uncapped it and held it out to Elaina. She flinched away as Ike's hand got near her.

"It's okay," Ike assured her. "I'm not going to hurt you."

Trying to lighten the mood, Zia added, "Even if he wanted to hurt you- which he doesn't- he would be too wimpy to do anything."

The girl didn't smile, but gingerly took the water skin from Ike and drank deeply from it.

When she had finished she handed it back to Ike and rubbed her mouth with the back of her hand. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice clearer now. Her breathing was much slower now, but she was still shaking slightly.

Ike smiled reassuringly at her. "You were sure thirsty," he joked.

"Elaina," Zia said, ignoring Ike, "you seem really tired. Why don't we get you cleaned up and in some fresh clothes and let you go to bed?"

Elaina looked at Zia's face to reply and let out a gasp of horror. She started to pant again and tried to scramble backward. "You... you're the Golden-Eyed One!" Those were the last words she said before she passed out.

"How is she?" Zia asked Ike as she quietly approached him.

"Still a little shaky. She woke for a few moments and started to hyperventilate again. I've given her some calming herbs I found in the area and she's sound asleep. She's very dehydrated, and I've asked Will to drip water in her mouth with a clean rag every once in a while to fix that," he replied as he rolled up his bed roll.

"Did she say anything?" Zia asked too innocently.

Ike gave her knowing look. "She just kept saying, 'The Golden-Eyed One, the Golden-Eyed One. I can't believe she's real!' That was all she really got out before I sedated her."

Ike studied Zia for a moment. She was gazing far away, as if looking into the future, and her arms were tense and taut. She appeared... nervous, which scared Ike. Zia was the bravest person he knew- even braver than his father. If she was nervous, that meant that things were about to get hairy.

"Are you alright?" Ike asked.

Zia was snapped out of her trance and looked at Ike, as if she couldn't quite see him. "I'm not sure, Ike," she admitted.

"Well, I'm not master when it comes to women," Ike began, "but I do know that it helps sometimes to talk about things on your mind."

"Sometimes," Zia agreed, once again staring off into the distance. The traveling party had agreed that they would stay in their camp another day to let Elaina rest. Now that day was coming quickly, lighting the sky and the Pass in rosy colors.

"And," Ike added, "with a woman it must be especially helpful to talk about their feelings, what with so many complicated thoughts and emotions that the male mind couldn't begin to comprehend."

Zia focused on Ike, but he had taken a leaf out of Zia's book and was staring off down the canyon.

"You're right, Ike. Never could the male mind, nor any mind, comprehend what's going through the head of a woman."

"What about the mind of the brother of the woman in question?" Ike said a little too innocently.

Zia glanced at him with a small smile. "Adopted brother," she reminded him.

Ike waved a hand. "Oh, potato tomato."

Zia snorted. "I'm not sure that's how the saying goes."

"No, I'm pretty sure it's 'potato tomato'." When Zia didn't reply, he said, "Honestly, Zia, what's the matter?"

Zia sighed. "How do I begin?" she wonder aloud. She thought for a moment and decided carefully on her words. "Do you remember when we first met?"

Ike looked taken aback. "Don't try to change the sub-"

"I'm not."

"Well, in that case, yes, I do."

"And," Zia pressed, "do you remember the first thing you ever said to me?"

Ike shrugged and shook his head. "That was a long time ago, Zia."

"You're right. Your poor little man brain probably doesn't even remember what you had for dinner last night," she teased.

"I do too remember," Ike said, offended. "We had baked potatoes and roasted pork!"

"We had dried beef and a salad made of some greens you found around, actually," she reminded him.

"Potato tomato!" he said with a laugh. "You were saying?"

"I was saying, the first words you ever said to me were, 'Wow, Pa was right. Your eyes do have pic-mule-clear in them!'" She said it in a high-pitched voice to imitate Ike's younger voice.

Ike started to laugh uncontrollably. "I had forgotten about that!" he said between laughs. "I had meant 'peculiar'- that's what Pa said your eyes were."

"Exactly," Zia said, looking back to the horizon.

"'Exactly', what?"

"All my life, people have told me that my eyes are strange, or odd, or even peculiar. And now we rescue this random girl from some smugglers and one of the first things she says is 'You're the Golden-Eyed One'. What if..." Zia said, thinking herself ridiculous. She shook her thoughts from her head. "Whatever. Forget it."

"No, go on," Ike begged. "Come on, tell me."

"What if..." Zia took a deep breath. "What if there's something different about me?"

"You mean besides the fact that you dress like a man and can fight with a sword better than most Guards?" Ike asked sarcastically.

"Forget it," Zia decided. "I knew it sounded stupid."

"No, no, no, Zia, I meant no offense," Ike said hurriedly. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have laughed."

"You were right to laugh," she told him. "It was a harebrained thing anyway."

"I know you better than anyone else, Zia, and the only harebrained things you've ever done were always my ideas."

Zia smiled a little. "You mean like the time when we put poison ivy in Arch's trousers?"

"Or when we switched Cook's containers of salt and pepper?"

She smiled at the memory. "We paid dearly for that one, didn't we? It took Cook about a week to notice and the food was horrible before he switched them back."

Ike nodded enthusiastically. "You see? And they were all my ideas."

"You can't take credit for all our childhood pranks," Zia argued.

Ike raised an eyebrow mischievously. "Who said they had to stop with our childhood?"

Uh-oh, Zia thought. She had seen that look before. "No," she told him. "Whatever you're thinking, the answer is no."

"Oh, come on, it will be fun," he promised. "And it will be just the thing to cheer you up!"

"This is so childish," Zia whispered to Ike who was lying on his stomach next to her, hidden by large rocks and a small bush.

"That's why it's so brilliant," he whispered back.

She shook her head, not believing that she had agreed to this. She wrapped herself in the dark blanket Ike had given her and dropped it low over her face so that she was hidden in shadows. She could hardly see a thing in front of her eyes, but at least she could see the ground.

"Ready?" Ike asked excitedly. He had that evil and mischievous glint in his eye that Zia had known as a child, and the thought brought back memories that made her smile. She nodded and brought her legs underneath her to a crouch. She surveyed the camp from her vantage point as best she could with the blanket in her face. Heath was watering the horses. Jay, Percival, and Archibald were speaking in hushed tones around a fire pit that Ed had built. The others were either sharpening weapons, rolling up their sleeping cots, or preparing breakfast. They all seemed distracted, which was perfect for what Ike and Zia had in mind.

"And... action!" Ike whispered. He rose to his feet and let out a yelp that called the attention of the busy travelers. He scrambled backward, a look of panic on his face. Many rose to their feet to get a better view. "Ghost!" Ike called in terror as he high-tailed it back to camp.

Thinking that Ike was just yanking their chains, many returned to their tasks, but out of the corners of their eyes they saw a dark, hooded figure emerge out of the rocks. The dark form let out a low, blood-chilling moan, and many rose to their feet in panic.

These reactions alone were nearly enough to make Zia giggle and give herself away, but she held her ground. That is until Ryker took action.

Upon seeing the 'ghost', Ryker's blood ran chill and he felt a line of beetles with frozen feet march down his spine. He could feel the blood drain from his face, and before he could stop himself, he let out a high shriek, turned tail, and ran. Forgetting that he had been sitting on a large log, Ryker tripped over his former seat, and let out another squeal of terror, convinced that the hooded figure had somehow tripped and cornered him.

Many of the company looked left and right, searching for the screaming six-year-old girl. All they found, however, was a twenty-three-year-old man curled in a ball, eyes shut tight.

It was all Zia could take. A series of giggles, laughs, and snorts escaped from her mouth. She bent down, holding a stitch in her side, and as she did, the black blanket fell off her shoulders, revealing her to be a small, giggly girl who sounded like a piglet.

Ike started to laugh too, beaming at the looks of confusion and shock on his companions' faces. Soon, both Ike and Zia were rolling on the rocks, hugging their sides and their faces beet red.

"Did... you hear... Ryker?" Zia asked Ike between snorts.

Ike nodded, gasping for breath. "I didn't... know... that pigs came... in that size... Nor did... I know... that they could... be so... pale!"

This sent them both into a harder fit, and soon they were gasping for air, but they couldn't stop laughing long enough to take a deep breath.

"That was NOT FUNNY!" Ryker shrieked, his voice shrill. His face was the reddest thing Zia had ever seen, but whether from anger or embarrassment she couldn't tell. This just made them laugh all the harder, and even some of the others of the band started to chuckle.

"How dare you laugh at me!" Ryker's gruff voice cracked with a high-pitched squeak, which got everyone, even Hamish, laughing harder and harder.

"What in the name of goat milk and dirty toe nails is going on out here?" Will's voice broke all the laughter, save for a few giggles and snorts from Zia and Ike.

The old man had emerged from the tent where he was caring for Elaina, and upon hearing the little girl screaming and laughter loud enough to wake the dead, he decided to investigate.

"Oh, nothing, Will," Heath answered, holding his sides as he approached. "We were just practicing." Somehow, he managed to keep a straight face.

Will narrowed his eyes. "Practicing for what?"

"Well, Zia and Ike decided to start a choir, and Ryker volunteered to sing the high part." A few snorts and giggle escaped the lips of his companions. He continued to say, "He was just demonstrating his incredible vocal range." More snorts were torn from those around him, but they all somehow managed to keep it together.

"That's not at all what happened!" Ryker said indignantly, turning redder than a ripe tomato with a cold. "They were... Well, I can't tell you about that bit."

Will shrugged in a confused sort of way. "Clear as mud."

Ryker's face reddened further, if possible.

"Embarrassment is an ugly color on you, brother," Hamish said with a smile. His whole life his brother had teased him about his squeaky voice, and now it was time for payback.

Before Ryker could come up with a snappy comeback, Will chimed in, deciding that enough was enough. "Well, while you're out here 'rehearsing', you've woken the girl. She's asking to see the 'Golden-Eyed One'."

All eyes turned to Zia, and the smile that had stayed on her face vanished with the wind. Ike groaned internally. The prank was supposed to get Zia's mind off the whole gold-eyed business, but it appeared that fate had different ideas.

Zia said nothing as she stepped toward the tent. Ike caught up with her and place a hand on her shoulder. "I'll go with you," he offered, but Will shook his head.

"Let's not overwhelm her," he said.

"If anyone can calm her down, it's Ike," Heath argued. "He has a way with people, and seeing 'the Golden-Eyed One' will probably upset her more than seeing Ike."

Will conceded the point. "Alright," he agreed.

Zia led the way to the small tent, and when she reached the entrance, she hesitated, took a deep breath, and pushed through the threshold.

Elaina was sitting up on a spare sleeping cot that had been laid out for her. Her eyes were glued to Zia as soon as the tent flap opened. She seemed slightly surprised when the dark-haired boy entered behind the "Golden-Eyed One", but she didn't say anything.

The three of them sat in silence, Zia looking anywhere but Elaina's face while Elaina's own eyes were fixed on the strange-eyed girl. Ike was looking between the two, watching both carefully.

"How are you feeling?" Zia finally asked.

"Much better," the girl answered. "Thanks to you."

"What else could we have done, seeing how horrible they were to you?"

Elaina smiled softly. "You could have done many things, but you chose to save me, and for that I will be eternally grateful."

They fell into a silence again that seemed to be even longer and more awkward than the first one.

"What did you want to see me for?" Zia finally questioned.

"I wanted to make sure that I wasn't dreaming you- the Golden-Eyed One." Elaina shook her head. "I can't believe you're real- that you're here."

"Why do you keep calling me that?" Zia asked. "Who is this 'Golden-Eyed One'?"

Elaina looked at her funnily. "You mean you don't know?"

"I wouldn't be asking if I did," Zia replied as she sat on the ground. Ike lowered himself next to her.

"Why, you're the whole reason for this war!"

Zia did a double take. "What? No. I've been hiding in the woods for over a decade. I didn't start any wars- I couldn't have."

"Well, I'm not sure about that," Ike chimed in helpfully. "I think Ryker's signing a declaration as we speak."

"I'm not saying you personally started the war; you can't help who you are," Elaina said.

"I'm not following," Zia said as she gave Ike a dirty look.

"You're joking?" Elaina asked, shocked. "B-but you're Otarian. I thought everyone knew about it. Don't you know the legend?"

Zia looked at Ike, who shrugged in a Don't ask me manner.

"But, the Silver Dragon- it's your country's seal!" Elaina seemed to be getting upset, and Zia wondered if it was such a good idea to come.

"What do my eyes and I have to do with the Silver Dragon?" Zia wondered aloud, vaguely remembering the tale of how her country came to be.

Elaina turned to Ike. "Surely you must know?"

Ike grinned. "Actually, my name's Ike, not Shirley." Both girls gave him a withering stare. "Okay, not the time for jokes, I get it. Big dramatic moment I'm ruining. To answer your question, I have no idea what you are talking about."

"Oh, so nothing's changed there then," Zia muttered, earning a glare from Ike.

"Oh, I see how it is. You can make the jokes but I can't."

"I will tell you myself then," Elaina said before they could continue their sibling rivalry, sitting up a little straighter. "After the great war and our two countries were formed with the help of the Silver Dragon, the dragon spoke with your first King, Dirk the Delusional, as my people call him. The dragon's foresight allowed him to see some many thousand years into the future. He knew that his peace-making services would be needed again, though he could not tell when. And he could not just stay in Otar until the time came- the dragons themselves were fighting each other to extinction, and only the Peace Maker could save them. So he gave Otar a gift- an infant girl with eyes the color of gold. Legend has it that the girl would be able to call upon the Silver Dragon and his power when the people of Otar most needed him. The child's gift was handed down through the generations, until it was lost to history."

"What does this have to do with me starting the war?" Zia wondered.

"I was getting to that. You see, my country has never been happy about our defeat, and when the Silver Dragon gave Otar a tool with which to defeat us again, well... we Skilaens are a very proud people, and we tend to hold grudges."

"For a thousand years?" Ike shook his head in disbelief.

"I do not have a say in what my kingdom's leaders do or do not hold a grudge against." Elaina continued, "My ancestors were determined to steal the child and convince her to call upon the Silver Dragon to give them the victory in a new war. However, Dirk the Delusional got wind of their plans, and sent the baby to live with a poor farmer and his wife. Hard as the early Skilaens searched, they did not find the child. At least, that's what legend says. My father says it would be just like an Otarian to fake something like that."

"I don't follow," Ike interrupted again. "What does this have to do with Zia starting a war?"

Elaina smiled at him. "Just the question I was waiting for- Ike, was it?" He nodded and Elaina continued. "After the Golden-Eyed One disappeared, my ancestors gave up their search, and the child and the dragon were written off as legend. But recently that legend has resurfaced, and our ruler, King Holen, is desperate to find the descendant of the Golden-Eyed child. He believes that the time to call the Silver Dragon is coming swiftly, and he is desperate to continue the work of his ancestor."

There was a slight pause for the information to sink in before Ike blurted, "So let me get this straight. Your King started this huge war that has cost thousands of lives on both ends just to find some person with gold eyes that may or may not exist?"

Elaina shrugged. "But she does exist, doesn't she? She's sitting right in front of me." Her eyes bore into Zia's, and Zia was taken aback that the other girl's eyes were... familiar. She felt chills run down her back as she stared into Elaina's eyes, trying to remember where she had seen those eyes before. She pushed the thought aside. Plenty of people have brown eyes, she reminded herself. Ike does. But if that were true, why did Elaina's eyes seem to strike fear in Zia's gut?