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Anjel waited until the buzz of the camp went down, and later still, to be sure that everyone but the lookouts would be sleeping. He didn't show it outwardly, but he was quite worried about Akio's safety. Holed up in a tent, close with all of those males, while giving off those pheromones...

He slipped out of his tent, moving silently on bare feet on the dry earth. Nobody sighted him as he picked his way through the yard--those keeping guard would be looking out, not in--all the way to the tent where he knew Akio would be sleeping. He could scent her from outside, but the noises coming from inside were not sounds of sleep. A struggle. Anjel snapped the tent flaps open and, following the noises and the gazes of all the slaves inside, caught a white marked, black-furred wolf heckling Akio. She was huddled in a corner, ears down. The male hadn't laid his paws on her yet, and if Anjel had anything to do with it, he wouldn't get the chance.

Anjel was halfway to him when the black wolf spun around. The dragon dashed for him, catching him easily in the close confines of the tent. The other slaves began to make noise, urging Anjel on, or cheering for the wolf. Burning orange eyes narrowed at Anjel as the wolf growled, baring perfect teeth, but Anjel had a large hand around the beast's throat.

"Anjel, don't hurt him!" Akio shouted over the din. "He didn't hurt me."

The wolf in Anjel's grasp snarled, clawing at Anjel's arm, but it may as well have been made of stone. "She was practically begging me to fuck her," he growled.

Anjel lifted his free arm, fist clenched. His dull talons dug into black fur and the wolf sputtered a bit.

"What's going on in here?" A guard was holding the tent flaps open, a lantern thrust inside. Anjel looked back, the ridge down his spine raised, but when Glyph pushed the guard aside, he dropped the wolf.

"What, indeed?" Glyph hissed. He eyed Anjel, looking smug, but Anjel kept his silence.

The wolf was not so wise. Rubbing his throat, he got to his feet. "This dragon came in here and tried to kill me," he said. Glyph sneered at the wolf, but seized the opportunity to torture the white dragon. Anjel was certain he could not want to kill a creature so badly as he'd like to kill that damn wolf.

"He did, hmm?" Glyph gestured. "Come on out here, now, messenger. Come on out here and we'll have us a little talk." He stepped outside.

Anjel looked back towards the black wolf, who was standing defiantly and rubbing his throat. A mostly-healed scar along his ribs was bleeding, what little white fur had grown in stained with red. The dragon huffed a short pink flame at him. "If you lay a finger on her," he warned, "I'll be wearing your pelt."

This time, the wolf had no reply.

Anjel glanced to Akio, who was sitting in the corner still, her arms around her legs. She looked at Anjel, but said nothing to him, her face a mask. Anjel looked between the two wolves, his frustration mounting, before he spun and stalked out of the tent.

Glyph was waiting for him. Anjel saw the punch coming, but he didn't dodge it. It hit him full on the jaw and he bit his tongue. Sliding to the side, he spat out blood, watching Glyph warily. He didn't raise his fists to fight.

"What's gotten into you, you stupid ghost?" Glyph snapped. "She's a slave. She'll sleep with the other slaves. Whatever comes to her is her due." He walked around Anjel, studying him with a look of disgust, his leather cloak snapping in the wind. "You are a disgrace to dragons everywhere. Can't even stay in your own species."

Anjel took the verbal lashing, as he had done on so many previous occasions. He soothed his wounds with the knowledge that one day, soon, he would be free. Though, he reminded himself, it would make him no less a ghost.

"I should send you back to the southern dragons for your foolishness," Glyph said, baring his white teeth, every one of them sharpened to a point. "But I think the disdain of your fellow ghosts will be far more entertaining to perceive."

"It isn't any of your business," Anjel said, straightening. In truth, he hadn't even thought about what the fellowship would think. He felt anxiety twist in his gut.

"It is not your place to tell me what is and is not my business!" The squatty snout of the bulkier dragon pressed close to Anjel's face. "You will go back to your tent. I'll have a guard posted there and at the door to the slaves' tent. If you or she tries to leave, we'll kill you both."

Anjel felt his spines rise, but he held his anger. A plume of purple flame slipped out when he exhaled. "As you wish, Master Glyph," he said obsequiously. He turned around and stalked back to his tent. If Glyph said anything more, Anjel did not hear it.

A guard did, indeed, watch the door to Anjel's tent, and he didn't dare to test Glyph's word. He remained inside for the rest of the night, sleeping restlessly. He wished he'd crushed the wolf's throat while he had the chance, but there were many more males in that tent who could just as well do the same sort of damage to Akio.

When morning came and they broke camp, Akio joined him to pull down his tent. She was subdued, but when Anjel asked how she fared the night, she told him it was without further event. Anjel wasn't sure if she was lying, but he could tell that she didn't get very much sleep, either.

The caravan crawled north. As they stopped for the night, two guards came and watched as Akio and Anjel set up his tent. Anjel didn't need to ask why they were there. When they were finished, Anjel watched as one of the guards walked Akio to the slave tent.

The next morning, Akio did not join Anjel as camp broke. He secured his belongings on the supply van and looked back towards the large tent where the slaves slept. It still stood, but no one came or went from inside. His heart sunk down into his stomach--had she tried to get out? Or was she hurt, did that black wolf hurt her?

"Messenger," came a silky tone from his side. He looked down and saw the little black dragoness that followed Glyph around. She looked up to him, her otherwise sultry eyes filled with contempt. "Your slave requires waking. And hurry it up. We need to make the most of the day if we're to reach Sunsin by dark."

Waking?

Anjel left the little dragoness standing by the cart. He approached the tent flaps, pushing them aside and poking his head in. She was laying near the back, sleeping or dead. No, she was sleeping, he convinced himself that he could see her chest rising and falling with her breath. Not dead. Not dead.

He walked across the empty space to her. The noises of camp faded away, as if there was emptiness outside of this tent, only them. He knelt down beside her in the dirt, but he knew there was something terribly wrong before he even touched her. Her head was turned away from him, her body was terribly still. Anjel's hand was frozen halfway to her. His mouth was dry.

"Akio?" he whispered into the silence. Tears of dread welled up in his eyes, but he knuckled them away before they had the chance to fall. The still body before him made no movement. It just lied there.

His heart skipped a beat when he heard more than saw her take a short, shallow breath. She was not dead. Not dead. He placed a trembling hand on her shoulder. "Akio, it's time to leave," he said, forcing the tremors in his voice to be still. But Akio did not stir.

Anjel lifted her and her head rolled back like a doll's, her body limp. He saw that Akio's eyes were open, but unseeing; a cloudy film had covered them. She did not blink.

Instantly he knew what had happened. She'd fallen asleep, likely from exhaustion, and into a prophetic dream. It had been said that it was bad to wake a dreamer during a true dream, but he'd never seen the reason. While Akio rested and dreamt, one of the slaves--probably that black wolf, damn him to darkness--woke her. Or, tried to. Now, Akio slept and did not wake.

Anjel held her body against his, nuzzling against her, letting his tears fall now in the thundering silence. Eventually, the sadness gave way, parting to reveal the next step in his grief. Anjel was filled with wrath, bubbling up and rolling through his blood. He felt the heat in his eyes and the spines along his back rose. He stood, still clutching Akio to him, and carried her out of the tent.

Nobody so much as looked at Anjel as he sat Akio onto his horse and wrapped the reins around her hands, binding them to the saddle so she wouldn't fall. He left her there, leaning against the horse's neck, and he looked for the black wolf.

He wasn't hard to find. He was tied up behind the horse that Glyph's attendant rode, so that he'd have to keep up with the horse as they went. The wolf began to turn a fraction of a moment before Anjel punched him, sending him flying to the dirt. The horse he was tied to danced to the side, showing the whites of its eyes, even as its rider cursed and jumped from the saddle.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" the little dragoness demanded, but Anjel held out his hand to her.

"Don't get involved," he said to her, walking over to the wolf and lifting him from the ground by the rope that bound his paws. It was a mistake--the wolf had more room to move, and he lunged at Anjel's face, jaws wide. The white dragon flinched, his other hand coming around to snap the wolf's jaws shut. "What did you do to her?" he growled, hot flames licking his nostrils. He rearranged his grip, holding the wolf by the throat again. Anjel was dimly aware that the black dragoness was yelling at him, but he wasn't listening to her.

"Fuck you," the wolf snarled, blood-tainted spittle flying out. "Fuck you and your little bitch."

"What did you do to her?!" Anjel's fingers clenched around the wolf's windpipe. The beast wheezed, bound hands trying vainly to move the dragon's arm.

A whip cracked behind them. Anjel spun around, the wolf dangling from his talons. Glyph stood with his leather whip uncurled in the dusty earth, glowering at Anjel. "Put the thrice damned wolf down, messenger."

"Whip me? Like a slave? I have every right to kill this meaningless creature. He is only meat." His grip on the wolf's throat did not loosen.

"He is my slave, ghost, and if you kill him, I will have every right to replace him with yours."

Anjel stared, hating the dragon before him with every cell in his body. "Akio may never wake up," he said. "And your slave is the cause of that. I should be allowed to exact my payment upon his flesh."

"With his master's permission, ghost, and I do not give it!" Glyph was winding his whip up, attaching it to his belt, but Anjel knew he'd already lost. He dropped the wolf to the ground. His gasps for breath were like music.

Anjel rode the rest of the day with Akio over his lap, her head cradled against his arm. She stared ahead, blind, maybe dreaming, but never waking.

They arrived in Sunsin at dusk. The red wolves of the Sunsin pack ushered the dragons and their personal slaves into the large building, including Anjel and Akio. Fool and Trick were returning here for further training and to be sold again.

The Sunsin pack were known for their school for slaves. Many of the slaves in the Geart tribe were pleasure slaves, but all sorts were trained at the school. They even had a port to ship slaves to the mainland, where slavery was illegal. That made it no less popular. Once in his own chambers, Anjel laid Akio down onto the large bed and covered her with a blanket. Where there were students, so also there must be teachers. He knew that many a wealthy master owned slaves who were learned in the healing arts. There must be someone here who knew how to wake Akio.

He'd been to Sunsin before, and finding the infirmary required little more than a jog of his memory. He pushed the bamboo beads curtain from the doorway and stepped inside. The room was blissfully empty with the exception of the red wolf who taught the slaves. Red wolves were generally smaller than the others that populated the tribes across the land, and this wolf was no exception. Though female, she was even smaller than Akio. She wore simple desert garb, loose cotton draped over her arms and wrapped around her legs. Her green eyes flickered to Anjel as he came into the infirmary.

"What can I do for you, dragon messenger?" she queried, her voice polite but not without a hint of impatience. She did not stop what she was doing; arranging bandages and medicines in a long pantry. Anjel placed his hands on the wooden counter, his talons spread out on the rough surface.

"Someone in our party is taken ill," he said. The wolf looked at him questioningly, and he amended, "My slave."

The female nodded, coming around the counter. She wiped her paws on her loose pants and peered up at him. "Is she sick, coughing?" she asked. "Has she come into contact with anyone who has shown the same symptoms?"

Anjel shook his head. "It's not like that. She's a seer, and was disturbed during a dream."

The wolf looked away from Anjel, towards the pantry. He could see her hesitation before answering. "A seer should never be wakened from a true dream," she said flatly.

"I know," Anjel pressed. "I didn't wake her. She was sleeping in the main tent with the other slaves of our group, and one of them disturbed her."

Her green eyes found him again and she crossed her arms over her chest. He caught a glimpse of her tail swaying, held upright in a dominant position, like all the rest of the wolves in this pack. They were all equals above the slaves they trained.

"How long has she been sleeping?" she asked.

"Since last night."

She nodded. "And are her eyes open, or closed? Is her breathing quick or slow? Shallow or deep?"

Anjel filled her in on Akio's status. The wolf's subdued, detached demeanor never changed. When she was finished answering questions, she moved back around the counter and looked through the tiny labeled bottles in her pantry. After a moment, she turned around and placed a plastic jar with a white cap on the table. The liquid inside was thick and yellow. "Two spoonfuls in a cup of iced milk, twice a day."

Anjel picked it up. "What is it?"

"Honey," she said. Anjel looked at her querulously. "I have nothing that will wake her. Sometimes they sleep to their death. Sometimes they wake in a few hours. The best you can do is keep her healthy. Her body will need the milk--her mind, the honey. Don't fret if her eyes close. That is when she will rest. She is dreaming, always, and in her mind she may not know that she is sleeping. As long as she still breathes, you do not have to worry if she lives. Waking, however, it may never happen."

Anjel's world was a little darker as he made his way back to his room. Akio was unchanged, laying on the bed, her eyes open and staring at the ceiling. He set a cup of ice on the bedside table, borrowed from the kitchen, and poured the milk the assistant gave him into the glass. The ice clinked around and Anjel glanced to Akio, to see if she'd reacted to the noise. She hadn't. He opened the bottle of honey and scooped out a bit, stirring it into the drink with his talon. He leaned forward and lifted Akio from the bed, cradling her as he slowly poured the liquid down her throat, bit by bit so that she wouldn't choke.

As he lied her back on the bed, he leaned over and kissed her lips. Drawing back, he held onto her hand and sat with her, his mind lost in an eddy of thought. The only sound was her soft, shallow breathing, and for a moment Anjel began to contemplate sleep. The soft, sweet whisper of "Anjel" made him snap around, looking down to the wolf.

Her eyes had closed, but she still slept on. His name was a word from her dreams.

They stayed in Sunsin for two days. Before the caravan moved on, Anjel got a supply of honey, enough to last them the remainder of the journey to the mountains in the north. Their party had diminished; with the loss of Trick and Fool, one of the palanquins and several attendants would be staying behind. Besides Glyph, his attendant, Anjel and Akio, they had the Firegryph and a few token warriors and slaves to help run the camp.

The black wolf was in attendance. He stood out, with the large cross bleached out on his back, and the newer marking on his stomach. It looked like dragon script, but Anjel was unable to get close enough to read it without drawing attention.

They left early and forded the river before noon. They made camp late, making good time without the extra baggage, but still it took five days to reach the City of the Tower.

The cold northern peaks of the Icefire range stabbed at the gray skies in the distance as they passed. The monotone of the world suited Anjel's dark mood. Not even being so close to home lightened his burden. There was no change in Akio's state throughout the rest of their journey, and the elves at the Tower city were unlikely to give their party shelter overnight.

Glyph hadn't even tried to talk Anjel out of keeping Akio in his own tent after they left Sunsin. Anjel was thankful--he probably would have killed Glyph, and lost his chance at freedom. As the air around them cooled, Anjel made sure to keep Akio warm. Her pack lands stretched north enough to see snow, but not so far that it knew blizzards and ice. Her fur was not thick enough to insulate her against the cold alone.

They pulled up into the city as the sun was setting. Two elves with tanned skin, silver hair and violet eyes met them near the tower for which the city was named. It was high enough to disappear into the clouds, black as obsidian and just as smooth, without a single window or door. Nobody but the elves knew about what was in the tower, and nobody but the elves lived in the city. They would be uncomfortable with the caravan parked in their city limits overnight, but they would have to deal with it.

Akio's eyes had closed when they entered the city, and they were still closed even as Anjel curled up beside her in his tent for the night. He lied in darkness, thinking about his old den and even missing it a little. While it was not his home in the mountains, it was a home, and after all he had some fair memories there with Akio. Anjel fell asleep holding her close to him, his mind deep in memory.

Akio didn't know she was dreaming.

But even in her dream world, she felt the pull of it. Something was calling to her, nagging her. She stood in an open field, somewhere familiar. The grass was tall and tawny, the skies too brightly blue for reality. The wind was cool, gentle, playful. She lifted her head back and closed her eyes, feeling the fingers of air rush through her fur. The wind smelled like home.

Her paw brushed the swell of her belly. How long had she been pregnant, now? Months, of course, and why not? She smiled the proud, timid smile of a first-time mother. She turned around, expecting to see Anjel standing there behind her, but he wasn't. In his place was Burning Heart Forgotten, the werewolf from the games, only in his normal state. The male grinned down at her, every teeth white and sharp, as his eyes burned like fire. She cried out and stepped away.

Over the edge of a cliff.

She flew, in the arms of her dragon. He was getting old, she thought, and soon he wouldn't be able to fly at all anymore. Anjel looked down to her and she smiled bravely. "You have to go now," he said softly, landing on a barren plain. He put her down, and she felt the pull again, now stronger than before.

"I want to be with you," she said plaintively. "I don't want to go. In that world, there's nothing but pain."

"You have to go," was all the dream dragon said, crouching and opening his wings before taking off into the sky again. She watched him fly away, feeling sadness in her heart, but she knew he was right. She couldn't wait forever.

She turned around and saw it. The tower was so tall that the top was lost in the sky, so black that it sucked the brightness out from the world around it. It reflected nothing; it did not belong in this world. Taking a deep breath, Akio walked over to it. She saw herself inside, mirrored, but it was not a reflection. The copy was her, pregnant, cradling her swollen motherhood with both arms. The smile on her face was tired, but happy. Akio touched her own belly, but found it flat.

She lifted her hand, and the mirror image lifted hers. They joined hands against the cool black wall.

Suddenly, the image was gone. Akio stood, her fingers splayed on the obsidian surface of the tower wall, staring into the blackness. The air around her was cold, the wind biting through her fur.

Anjel found her there. He bundled her up in his cloak and carried her back to his tent without saying a word. Akio's teeth chattered for awhile, but her eyes were open, seeing, and she was awake.