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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Waylon's Crossing - 17. Chapter 17: To the Rescue

Let's go; sleepy-time's over.

Waylon's Crossing
Chapter 17: To the Rescue

"He's doing it again."

"Doing what?"

"That ... that thing, you know, as what almost got his ass killed." Bryce had almost killed them both; he would have if he hadn't been knocked backward from the force of the spell. And what a spell! Where had the thing come from?

He gave the little half-unicorn a sideways glance and rubbed his arms. The remnants of magic clinging to Jacen made all the hairs stand up on Bryce’s body. It was a ticklish sensation like static picked up by rubbing socked feet over carpet. What made Bryce nervous was wondering when and how that static would discharge.

Jacen sighed and crawled over to the sleeping werewolf. They didn't dare risk the lamp now. They'd entered tunnels frequented by demon patrols. This was the kind of security Bryce had been expecting all along, and it slowed their progress considerably. Something was going on down there and they had to move quickly but quietly to remain undetected.

"So?" Bryce prompted, craning his neck to peer over the healer's shoulder.

"There's nothing to worry about," Jacen replied. "He's fine."

That's what worries me, thought the vampire, scowling. There'd been nothing, not for centuries, and then there they were again: rumors of ... things preying upon people's dreams. Those rumors had brought Bryce to Waylon's Crossing originally.

"Are you sure?" is what he asked, however, rubbing the hilt of a dagger with his palm.

Jacen sighed. "Yes," he answered. "Perfectly fine." He grimaced as he sat back, groaning, against the wall.

"How are you feeling?" asked Bryce, watching the healer worriedly.

"Like I ought to be pregnant," Jacen muttered, sheepish expression changing to discomfort as he drew his knees toward his chest. He set his head on top, closing his eyes against the magical tug and resulting nausea.

"You're not, are you?"

That got a brief, derisive snort.

"Well, you look like shit."

"Why thank you for that brilliant deduction," drawled Jacen. He shrugged off the pessimism with an apologetic smile. "It's this place," he explained. He fisted his hand around the ring he still wore.

Bryce nodded in agreement. "Smells like goblins. Awful creatures, them."

"I've never seen one."

"Lucky, then," observed Bryce caustically. He poked the werewolf with his toe. "How long's he going to be like that?"

"Don't know. Leave him alone." He didn't have to see the vampire to know what he was doing, or that he was up to no good. Bryce was not a patient man and all this waiting around while Aure scouted ahead weighed heavily on his nerves.

Bryce stuck his tongue out at the healer, but settled against the wall opposite him. He wanted to rest, but Aure had been gone so long ... Where was he? What was taking so long? What if he didn't come back, or what if he couldn't find them? Bryce had to give the demons credit; they were thorough. They'd had to move a couple of times since they'd parted.

The tunnels were wider and taller in this section, the walls smoothed through probably centuries of goblin slave-labor for the comfort of the large, winged demons. Not all of the creatures in the patrols were demons, however. Bryce had spied at least one wraith, a couple minotaurs, trolls, a handful of werewolves, vampires, dwarves, several half-demons, and a variety of other creatures that were comfortable in the dark. From the little he'd been able to hear eavesdropping, there were many, many more on the surface.

That didn't really bother him; what bothered Bryce were the uniforms.

Battle armor was dull, purposely so, for demons lived in a world of eternal darkness. The basis of demon armor was a sleeveless tunic and breeches. From a distance, the tunic and breeches looked like simple leather, but Bryce knew that demon armor was far more than it appeared. Sandwiched between layers of leather was chain mail made with thousands of tiny, steel plates that overlapped like scales. Fortunately, Bryce had the experience that told him how to penetrate that armor.

Every demon clan had its own unique symbol, to emblazon on its House Guard. The royal line was a green demon eye on a black background. The Queen's Hunters dyed their entire tunics black, and crushed emeralds to paint on their insignia. They were adorned with cuffs, torcs, and hoof-coverings of silver and gold, inlaid with priceless gems, for special, state occasions. Bryce had witnessed such an occasion only twice. The first time was the Queen's coronation; the second was the ceremony to sign the peace accords.

These demons wore a solid-black, eye-shaped impression on their chests and backs. Bryce was not familiar with this emblem. As far as he knew, there were no new demon clans. Most of the time, news of the demon world centered on which clan had most recently died out.

"I don't like this," he muttered.

"You don't like a lot of things," commented Jacen.

"Fuck you."

"No, thanks."

Why was it only the werewolf got any sleep? Idiot boy, Bryce wished he'd never set eyes on that stupid gun. See? he berated himself. This is what you get for trying to be a do-gooder. Wrapped up in complexities he'd never wanted to become embroiled in ever again. This is my life, damn it! He didn't owe anything to anybody, and he liked it that way. No responsibilities, no orders to follow, just him and his wants to gratify -- except, here he was babysitting two helpless non-combatants while his partner went off into danger alone.

Damn the elemental for always being so infuriatingly right. He could sneak around easier than Bryce could, learn more in less time at less risk -- less known risk, anyway. There was still that rogue elemental out there. Elementals had a means of sensing each other that Bryce didn't understand, but it had something to do with all elementals having a connection to their element at all times and the passage of another over or through their influence would be communicated instantly. Aure had tried to explain, but Bryce got lost at about that point. A world without scent or sight or touch was completely foreign. He still remembered fondly having to teach Aure what colors were.

That thought brought with it an unexpected pang from the dead organ in Bryce's chest. He rubbed the ache awkwardly, abruptly making up his mind.

"Okay, that's it." Bryce grabbed and tossed Alan's pack at the slumped healer. "Can you manage that? We're going."

"Going where?"

"Elsewhere. Come on."

Bryce couldn't track Aure, but he knew that if they kept going toward the heart of demon activity, then they would most certainly find some kind of clue. With Alan slung over his shoulders and Jacen holding tight to him, Bryce couldn't move fast, so he moved as quietly as he could.

There weren't many places to hide. When he felt Alan stir, Bryce turned around, returning to a semi-enclosed alcove they'd passed a short time before. He set the werewolf down gently, worried by the trickle of tears on the boy's cheeks. Alan was their only connection to the missing half-demon, their only advantage should things turn sour. He patted Alan softly, jolting him back to awareness.

He pulled away, face in hands, leaning forward as he wept brokenly. "They're hurting him," he sobbed. "They're hurting him!" He looked up at Bryce, agony shining in his wet eyes. "I have to help him. I have to, I --"

"Whoa, there, kid," said Bryce, catching Alan's shoulder to keep him seated. "You're in no condition to go anywhere. Now, take a deep breath and tell us what happened."

Alan glanced from Bryce to Jacen, reassured by the silent sympathy offered by the exhausted healer. He bit his lip and looked down at his lap, fidgeting with his fingers.

"I don't know," he said quietly, shaking his head. In his mind's eye, he could see Kynan, wounded and all alone. He tried to be tough, but all Alan could think about was how very alone Kynan was, how much he was trusting to Alan, and how little they really knew about each other. Kynan wasn't a monster; he was every bit the gentle and caring man Alan knew, and what he'd made him feel ... How could anything compare to that? It was everything he'd imagined, and more.

And they might never see each other again.

He pressed his forehead to his knees to hide fresh tears. "They're hurting him," he repeated. "He's in so much pain, and I can't help him. He won't let me." He was quiet a moment, and then abruptly snatched at Bryce's arm, staring imploringly into his eyes. "We've got to do something! We have to! He's going -- he's -- he -- or he'll die!"

"You're hysterical," said Bryce calmly, pulling Alan's hands off. "Who has him? What are they doing? What do they want with him?" Questions about just what had happened to the werewolf must, it seemed wait, though Bryce figured he'd get about as much sense out of the boy as before.

"I don't know," he'd stubbornly maintained since that night, ignorant, apparently, of just how close he'd come to dying. He made Bryce want to snap his foolish neck. What danger were they walking into? That Aure was wading through even now? There were too many unanswered questions.

"The Prince," Alan whispered, so softly as to almost go unheard. "It's the Prince of Darkness. He's a demon and he works for the Queen."

"The Prince?" Bryce bit the inside of his cheek to keep from saying something potentially damaging. He'd been a love-besotted boy at one time. Long, long ago, but, all the same ... Adolescents and their crushes, it was live or die for them. Piss off the boy and there was no telling what stupid thing he'd try and do.

"No, no." Blood thudding against the confines of his skull, Alan shook his head. He felt worn thin, as if he'd worked extra hard at the forge all day on a particularly tough commission. If, that is, they'd used his head as the anvil.

"Kynan. Kynan does. Work for the Queen, that is."

"So," breathed Jacen. "He is a Hunter, after all."

"Yeah." Alan wiped at his tears, sternly telling himself that he had to be strong, for Kynan. Kynan needed him right now. He was eighteen, too old to be acting like a baby.

"Is it civil war?" Bryce prompted.

"I ... I don't know." He repeated Kynan's words. "He wants power, that's what demons do, isn't it? The Prince -- no, wait." He closed his eyes, trying to remember. "There was a spy. Kynan was trying to find a spy, and the Prince jumped him. He's back, from exile, and ..." ... he's making moves to take over.

Alan gulped, opening his eyes to look guiltily at Bryce. "Yeah, civil war."

"Shit," cursed Bryce. He jumped to his feet, starting to pace. "Fuck!" Aure, where are you? Get your ass back here, damn it!

Alan flinched back from the irritable vampire, turning to Jacen. "Why are they doing this? Why, Jacen? He's so nice! He's handsome and he's kind and I -- he knows, but he won't tell me! I don't want to be protected, I want to help! I want to help, I do, I -- I just want to help."

The last he mumbled into Jacen's shoulder, enfolded within the healer's embrace. Jacen gave Bryce a warning glare as the vampire grimaced, but he left off the questions for now. Instead, he crouched at the entrance to their hidden sanctuary while Alan wore himself out with his pointless weeping and fell once more into slumber, Jacen not too far behind and wrapped around him like a living blanket.

Bryce counted as he watched the patrols passing by. They came at regular intervals, in groups of five or six, far too many for him to take on alone. Where was Aure? He'd been gone far too long, surrounded as they were in enemy territory, saddled with two non-combatants. Where could he be?

Bryce would be the last person to admit that his personal concerns were disrupting his ability to think clearly and dispassionately. He'd brushed off the elemental's pessimism and paranoia regarding this mission, but now Aure's words of doom kept circling around and around inside his head.

"Where are you?" he whispered. "Where are you?"

He was always out there; no matter how far away, Bryce always knew that the elemental was alive and well and safe. He didn't have that comfort at the moment and he wanted, desperately, to be reassured. He'd even give his right fang to have those teasing currents around him right then.

"Aur -- mmpf." The impression of a hand fit over Bryce's mouth.

"Shh," whispered Aure, a breath of wind along Bryce's ear, making him shudder. "The walls have ears."

"Mmm ...!" was all Bryce managed, for the hand over his mouth morphed into a pair of lips. He clung to them hungrily, hands reaching for what might constitute the back of the elemental's head.

He crushed their lips together in a fierce kiss before pushing Aure away, thumping his chest with a fist. "Where were you?" he demanded, scowling. "I was worried!"

"I had to move carefully," explained Aure, bringing the fist to his lips to kiss the knuckles.

Bryce trembled, and withdrew his hand, shoving his hands in his pockets. Air rustled through his hair, and the ghost of a kiss landed on his brow.

"Come," said Aure. "I have found him." He gave Bryce a knowing look. "It is bad."

"Shit. Where?"

"We are within the Gorge of Fengdu," the elemental replied. He approximated Bryce's crouch by the side of their sleeping companions.

"Did you say 'Fengdu?'" asked Jacen, opening an eye suspiciously. "That's a myth."

"Apparently not," said Bryce. "They had to put the Prince somewhere, right?"

"The irony does not escape me." The healer sighed. "Any good news?"

"The elemental is not here," said Aure, looking to Bryce. "We must move quickly, before he returns."

"Elemental?" Jacen repeated, glancing from one to the other. "A-another? I --"

"Yo, kid." Bryce interrupted to shake Alan's shoulder. "Let's go, kid, sleepy-time's over."

Alan groaned, rubbing his eyes, gritty and red and sore. He blinked, squinted, but -- He sat up quickly, forcing the elemental to withdraw. "Smoke! You're back! Does that mean ...?"

Some time had passed, but how long, Alan couldn’t rightly tell. Everything was so broken here and time was measured in pit stops and stretch breaks. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner came whenever you were hungry. They had only the dried jerky to eat and carried water to quench their thirst. It felt like an eternity since he’d last spoken to Kynan even though Alan knew that very little time had actually passed. He was eager to see Kynan's smiling face again. Being with him was like an itch that needed scratched or a need that longed to be sated.

The innocent hope and yearning made Bryce wince and look away. He didn't ever remember bouncing around from one extreme emotion to another. Alan rode the crests and troughs easily and fluidly; just watching made the vampire seasick.

"Yeah, kid," he answered, thrusting a wrapped bar into his hand. "Eat something. We're moving out."

They were back within the main corridors within minutes, Aure leading them in a demanding trot through the maze of passages. Down they went, imperceptibly at first, but more obviously the further they traveled. Down and down, and around in circles until Bryce began to second-guess his ability to get himself back out. He had an arm around Jacen's shoulders, helping the healer to stumble along beside them, wincing at any inadvertent and too-close contact.

Aure brought them to an exhausted halt in a dim corner somewhere. Alan and Jacen panted for breath, leaning heavily against the walls. Bryce pinched his nose shut, glaring at Aure, but the elemental ignored him, gesturing for the thief to join him at the entrance to the middens.

Placing his feet carefully to avoid the worst of the muck, Bryce leaned around the reinforced doorway as Aure bid. He didn't see anything at first, his nose too filled with goblin dung, ears distracted by the harsh breathing from Alan and Jacen behind him.

Beyond them, almost at the limit of Bryce's vision, a torch outlined the shape of a demon and the door he stood beside. From the glow, there were other doors beyond. Closer entrances had no doors and Bryce could clearly make out the shapes of various bundles hanging from the ceiling. They were in the demons' kitchen. True to demon architecture, the prisoner cells would be nearby, most likely where the guards began. The more valued the prisoner, the closer they were to the kitchens. The frequent traffic of goblins and servants through the dungeon kept captives in a state of nervous tension, uncertain if their torturer would open the door, or the chef. Chances of escape were slim with so many eyes passing through the area.

"Oh, no, you don't!" growled Bryce in a low voice. Although he, too, was tired from their fast pace, killing demons was one of Bryce's favorite pastimes. "You are not leaving me alone with them while you get all the fun!"

"I would not dream of it," Aure agreed, giving Bryce a grin. Holding out his hands, the smoke and shadows around the elemental lengthened into a pair of long swords. The swords were for effect; the idea that wind, carefully focused, but invisible, could do the same kind of damage as a sword made Bryce uncomfortable. Aure grasped the hilts, indicating their direction with one of the points.

Bryce grinned toothily back and pulled two long knives from their sheaths against his thighs.

"Stay here," he told the others. "We'll be right back."

Alan frowned, rebellious, but Jacen nodded wearily, accepting the vampire's much-denuded pack. They watched vampire and elemental slip around the corner, ears straining to catch sound of their activities, but were disappointed. Their only indication that all had gone well, was when Bryce returned to them, blood-spattered and grim.

He guided them along the path of destruction and Alan swallowed hard, trying not to look beyond the first body, and stepping over the rivers of blood. Bryce urged them along faster, knowing that the scent of blood would eventually draw unwanted attention, and Alan let himself be led.

Having checked the occupants of each cell as they went past, Bryce only picked one lock. However much they wished to release all of the prisoners, they could not. Managing one individual, and from the stench of him, a wounded one at that, would take every bit of cunning they possessed.

As he caught the smell as well, Alan walked faster and faster until he was all but running, and dragging Jacen along. Caution abandoned, he pulled away from Bryce's hold, thundering up the passage to hurtle recklessly into the room.

He had eyes only for Kynan, lying face-down in the middle of the floor. He looked -- he looked -- one of Alan's hands found his mouth in horror, eyes gone wide. "Kynan!" cried Alan. "Fuck. Oh, Kynan." He sank down beside him, hands hesitantly fumbling with blood-caked blonde hair, forgetting the presence of the others.

Blue eyes sprang open and Kynan lifted his head, not quite believing his ears. "Alan?"

The werewolf went to catch one of the hands that twitched in his direction, but caught sight of the raised blisters on the palm and touched his wrist instead. He didn't even notice the tears on his cheeks.

"Oh, Kynan ...."

Bryce brought the torch inside for Jacen's use. The healer was a sorry sight, eyes bruised and sunken. Those odd eyes glanced up at Bryce as Jacen moved toward the injured man. He halted, sucking in a shocked breath.

The vampire had his fangs bared, drool moistening his lips, eyes wide and unfocused. He stood frozen not a foot away, hands white-knuckled around the torch. Jacen had never seen such brutality as the flickering light revealed, but his fatigue gave the situation a surreal glow. Bryce, though … Jumbled emotions contorted the vampire’s expression.

"Smoke!" hissed Jacen, afraid to even move lest he attract a vampire’s killing rage.

The elemental pushed Jacen aside with a rustle, and a shimmer as he became visible once more. His form surrounded the vampire to block out the cell. "Bryce." The name landed liked a full-body caress, barely loud enough for the vampire to hear. "Bryce." Aure could feel the shiver that rippled through the vampire’s lean body, but he couldn’t judge its impact.

"Stay in the now, Bryce,” he implored. “Hear me." He slowly guided Bryce toward the long chain and the bloody shackles around the prisoner's ankle.

"Bryce." He spoke gently, but tension crept into his tone, senses springing alert as he could feel the other elemental. They were now aware of each other and Aure knew that they had to hurry, but he could not leave Bryce like this. "Death!" He was growing more desperate now. The other elemental had no doubt raised the alarm.

Oblivious to all else, Alan and Kynan had eyes only for each other. Kynan panted shallowly, each breath straining his battered body. Alan held his hand delicately, frightened to cause any more harm.

Jacen stood between pairs, psychologically torn between them. His guts heaved and twisted, his resistance to the mage's call tearing him apart inside. He wanted to snap, to scream and yell, he wanted to dissolve into jealous, needy tears, but he wanted most of all to give in and let the magic eating at him pull him back to the city. The ring was like a hot coal against his skin, pulsing in time to his heart beat, synched to that of the far-away mage.

"Hear me, please," Aure whispered intently. "Vüväloiek dü quuo, Arawn, vüväloiek dü quuo." He whispered the words over and over. Arawn: Death; the demons had named Bryce so, for to them vampires were both living and dead, another failure, more lost hope.

"I am death," Bryce had so often said. "I smell of it, I deliver it, I want it, with all my heart -- but I have none! And I am afraid of it."

A witness to many atrocities during the wars, Aure could not even begin to imagine what the vampire had experienced at the hands of their enemies, enemies that to Bryce were loved, hated, feared, and admired all in equal measure.

"Vaik vaierüs cünch vaivoiväl," said Aure softly. "I need you to live." Important though Jacen or Alan or Kynan might be to whatever was happening in the city, Bryce was Aure’s world. He would protect Bryce even should the city fall to ruin around them.

In that moment Aure made his choice: his lover before his duty. His focus became Bryce and bringing him back from whatever gruesome memories held him captive. He loved the vampire’s stubbornness, but the cost this time was dear.

The memories gradually faded as Aure filtered the air Bryce breathed. Lips frozen into a snarl slipped closed as the tension bled away. Bryce sagged in the elemental's arms, shock taking its toll on his flagging reserves. He closed his eyes for a minute, and then pushed Aure aside as firmly as the ancient memories.

"I'm okay, Aure, I'm okay."

The elemental released him at once, but he let his touch linger a little longer. "Hurry," he said. "They come." Despair filled him as he moved to guard the door. He automatically located air currents he could use to escape, but what about the others? What about Bryce?

Bryce threw his pack at the healer. "Don't just stand there, Jacen!" he snapped. Dropping down beside the shackled ankle, Bryce pulled out his picks. "Get to work! We've got to get out of here!"

Out, thought Jacen, jumping. Yes, out. Out, indeed.He turned his hand over to look at the ring, blinking in amazement at the glint of red fire inside the onyx.

"Duncan," murmured Jacen. He knew the mage's name now, could almost see him if he closed his eyes. "Can you hear me?" The ring warmed even further as if in answer, so he added, "We need help."

The door slammed shut, making Alan and Bryce jump. The vampire whirled, lock-picking forgotten as he rose, hands to his knives.

"Hurry!" hissed Aure in his ear. Pounding on the door rocked the wood in its frame. The elemental did not draw his swords this time, instead flattening himself against the door to seal its cracks. The other elemental was very near, he could sense him, but he was keeping his distance for now. Why?

"But --" Bryce began. How were they to get out if Aure was barricading them in?

"Bryce!" called Alan, gesturing to Jacen.

The healer moved stiffly, hand out, and palm facing forward and away from his body. He stepped to the other side of Kynan's prone body, going to the wall and placing the ring against the stone.

Bryce's eyes widened as words in the old tongue spilled from Jacen's lips: "Fallaces sunt rerum species." He tapped the ring on the stone. Light flashed brilliantly, and then was gone, narrowed into a tiny disc.

From that tiny dot grew a circle of light, larger and larger. Jacen curled his fingers around the edges and pulled, forcing the hole open faster and wider than before.

"Alan!" snapped Bryce, gesturing. He knelt down once more, fumbling in his haste to get the shackles off. They were large and crude in design, but very secure. Bryce had not worked on a lock this complicated in decades

Gripping the magical circle hurt, but Alan wrapped his sleeves around his hands and gritted his teeth. He could hear shouting on the far side of the door now, spurring him to work even harder. They were so close! Kynan was here, he was injured, and, no matter where this magic thing went, they were going! He could not leave Kynan here to continue suffering. Alan was going to do something right this time.

The opening widened, opening like a window for Jacen. On the far side, Duncan stood, legs braced in his nightcap and robe, hands holding a worn, ancient book between them. His eyes were closed, the room dark behind him except for a low-burning candle. Jacen thought there were books in the darkness around the mage, a library of some sort, perhaps.

As soon as there was gap enough, Jacen got his elbows up and over the lip, pulling himself inside. He was almost there!

"Jacen!" yelped Alan. He grabbed for the healer's leg, but missed. He ran to Kynan. "Kynan! Ky, can you get up?"

Kynan bit his lip and worked his arms to push upward, grimacing with pain. He grabbed tightly to Alan’s supporting frame. The werewolf’s fear and determination helped, but Kynan was also frightened. He didn’t know if he had the energy to take the necessary steps.

Bryce looked up from his lock-picking in time to see Jacen disappear. His mouth dropped open and he stared.

"Wait!" Alan cried, turning back around. "Jacen! No, no, wait!" Kynan slipped back to the ground as Alan lurched forward. He clung to the circle on the stone wall, but it was already shrinking. "No!"

Aure felt the earth shift around him and knew that the other elemental was making his move. He abandoned the door.

"Bryce!" Aure couldn't ask him to stay and fight. They were outnumbered and he could feel the ground sucking at his incorporeal form. Aure had to save Bryce, no matter what.

"Wha ...?!" the vampire snapped in response, startled fingers fishing for a dropped pick, but his fingers caught only air. He felt movement in the air whistling past his ears and he tucked his body in. His reflexes understood that he’d been thrown through the shrinking portal even if his mind hadn’t yet caught up. Bryce hit the ground on the other side and rolled, coming instantly to his feet, but could no longer feel the elemental’s caress. Aure! Why hadn’t he followed?

Bryce’s tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth as he sprang back toward the portal. There was just enough time for him to receive one very brief glimpse of Alan's shocked face before the wall became solid once more.

"No!" screamed Bryce as his body impacted the wall. Plaster rained down as his claws raked the wall. "Aure! NO! No-no-no-no-no!" He screamed in wordless rage and fear, the stone-covered plaster no match for his mindless fury.

"AUR-RE!"

Goodies in the forum; don't be shy! link: http://www.gayauthors.org/forums/topic/31411-waylons-crossing-by-dark/
Copyright © 2011 Dark; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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Uff, Aure just condemn Kynan and Alan if Jacen and Duncan don't do something to help.

 

Then again, maybe Aure is going to end up dead too - he didn't seem too keen on tangling with the Earth Elemental the last time they came in contact.

 

Great chapter, nice BIG cliff you left us on. Good job :P

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