More days have passed since that fateful night. Galand has taken two more trips to Darkside to cut throats. One throat belonged to another Kavi that had stolen something valuable from an "herbal" shop in Darkside. The second had been another gambler. The payment for the second murder was a copper shekel, and the third earned Galand a black ring – his sign that he had been accepted into the Assassins' Guild.

While on Faraon's Dome, the Savanite Digger and her Vartan friend Skye have been teaching the Khatta how to do hand-sign. The relationship between the pair reveals itself more and more whenever Galand sees them. There are no signs of a romance there… but a strong friendship does exist.

Today, the gardeners are taking a break. For once, the constant droning of noise outside Galand's apartment has quieted.

Galand sits at a desk, quill in one hand as he writes on a piece of paper. He murmurs to himself to organize his thoughts, "Dear Rhiow… How've you been? I've been, well, busy. You know how it is. I hope you're doing well at school. I also hope you haven't accidentally set off another whirlwind in your instructor's office… "

The silence outside is interrupted for a moment by several Savanite feet walking past the front of the house. There's a flash of beige fur and auburn hair among the spots that blink by the front window but the group passes so quickly that it's hard to get a good look. The noise the group makes as they continue on their way sounds rather strange; the Savanites carry bundles that rattle like sticks, and something else twangs heavily like a guitar or some other stringed instrument hitting someone's shoulder with every heavy step.

He continues as he writes, "I trust Mother and Father are well. I've not heard from them of course, nor our brother. This may be the last time I get to write to you for some time, so I wanted to say a few things… first, that I love you, sister mine. That will never change. Second… I'm sorry for the way my fighting with Father has affected you. You always were the gentler kind – " He looks up, blinking. Setting the quill down, he goes to the door and opens it, looking outside.

A spotted tail vanishes around a hedge the moment Galand peeks out, as the group moves on.

Frowning slightly, the Khatta checks to make sure he's got his daggers up his sleeves, then steps out. He closes the door behind him and follows that tail.

The noise the group makes causes them to be fairly easy to follow, although they seem to have the advantage of distance and knowledge of the area. It appears that Galand is in some kind of hedge maze. Between the bushes, as he walks on, he hears a woman's voice tuning itself and an instrument, while frantic footsteps sound almost like they're running in circles around that voice.

Galand perks his ears up and tries to follow the sound, his tail-tip twitching in intense curiosity.

The sound of 'setup' has stopped and the Savanites depart. The music of the woman starts in full force, a haunted melody that sounds tinged with bitterness.

Pressing crowds and passengers, waiting by the carousel,
Will your bags remind you of home, and who you've left in hell?
I can't take the thought of you here,
I can't put you out,
Close your eyes and look at me here,
Across the miles … look at me.

The bushes starts to rustle again… but this time it's from the plants themselves in the center of the maze. Large vines curl upwards and slither, rattling the foliage.

The cat halts in his tracks a moment, caught up in the sound, then staring at the vines.

Can't you feel the chains… feel the chains?
Can't you hear a voice… behind the quiet?
Can't you feel the chains… feel the chains?
That keep us bound forever, love…

The sound of the music makes the vines move. Some of them wave over Galand's head, clutching small reddish sticks before curling back downwards. The music seems to be causing the vines to grow!

Ashur stares at the vines and the sticks, then continues onward, following the sound, shying away from the moving vines as they get too close.

My mind is like a whetstone now,
Sharpening things to throw.
Who or what could pull you this far?
And how far did you go?
I can't take the look of this place,
You can't trust the ones you trust.
And as you turn to treason now… my hands are tied…
Look at me…

… and finally Galand makes it around the corner. His eyes catch an amazing sight. Sitting in the middle of the mass of writhing vines is none other than Lilith – the Kattha that helped Galand with his disguise. Her head is down as she focuses on her music. The vines slash around her with every note she plays.

One of the vines moves in too close, striking her sharply across the shoulder. She cries out and then chokes it down… straining the sound into a gentle note sung to the plants.

Galand stands in astonishment, wide-eyed and open-mouthed.

Oblivious to it all, Lilith continues to sing…

Can't you feel the chains… feel the chains?
Can't you hear a voice… behind the quiet?
Can't you feel the chains… feel the chains?
That keep us bound for life, my love.

Her shaking hands continue to play the final notes of the song and the Kattha carefully rises up to her feet. Her back is to Galand, so she can keep her eyes on the plants that seem intent on snatching the last of the odd sticks poking out of the ground. Her hesitant steps put her on a collision course with Galand, it seems.

Galand steps back, keeping pace with her, sensing somehow that to disturb her at this point would be very, very bad.

Lilith continues to slowly back up. Apparently she knows the maze well enough to navigate it backwards. After she rounds the first corner her song stops altogether and she spins, slinging her lute over her shoulder and whirling around – face to face with the spotted Khatta.

Ashur licks his lips nervously, and says, "I, ah… I heard the singing, heard the commotion. I didn't mean to intrude."

The Siamese Kattha trembles slightly and then slumps, clutching her bloody shoulder as the strap of her lute digs painfully into it. "I suggest you not get too close. It's feeding time."

Galand reaches forward hesitantly, then lays a gentle hand on Lillith's shoulder. "Come on back to my place, I'll see if I can't bandage that up for you." He makes a special point not to ask about "feeding time."

Lillith's first impulse seems to be to step back before Galand can touch her… but a vine whistling past just a few feet behind her is enough to quell that urge. A mixture of emotions dances across her cold eyes as she seems to be considering her options. Finally she nods her head as slightly as she can, and clutches the strap of her lute with her free hand, shrugging the shoulder Galand's hand rests on.

Galand leads her back to his cabin and settles her into a chair, going to the other room for some bandages.

The entire time, the Kattha does not say a single word. As she sits in her seat, she distracts herself by placing her lute in her lap and humming to herself as she plays it.

There is a small first aid kit in Galand's washroom – some bandages, disinfectant, and a few other minor things for cuts and scratches. Nothing big… but enough to service.

Ashur brings back the aid kit and starts to clean and bandage Lillith's shoulder, asking, "So what was all that, if you don't mind me asking?"

Hissing as Galand cleans the scratch, Lilith replies, "Climbing Lover's Promise. They're popular plants but require some special care. It wouldn't do to have them tearing up the hedges looking for food, or growing improperly." She looks away from the spotted cat and out the window, "It was either play for the plants or work in the brothel. I'd rather die by having one of those vines choke me than to… " Her eyes shut tightly and she shakes her head, refusing to even finish her comment.

Galand hisses softly in sympathy. "I can't say that I blame you for that. I've got to admit I've had some rather… disturbing choices to be made lately myself."

"Of course." The Siamese rubs her bandaged shoulder and pulls herself to her feet, slinging her lute over her unwounded shoulder. "Thank you, Ashur Galand."

Galand stands, and holds up his paws. "You're welcome. It was the least I could do." He looks at her closely. "You sure you should be moving around so soon? You look positively exhausted."

The Kattha shakes her head. "Faraon needs me to play for some visitors soon. I have just enough time to make myself look not exhausted and to make my appearance, if I leave now." She smiles slightly, "Besides… Faraon has arranged for a visitor to come and see you if I recall."

Galand arches an eyebrow. "A visitor? I wonder who it could be? Thank you for letting me know, and good luck with your performance. You've a lovely voice."

"Goodbye, Ashur Galand," Lilith says and quietly exits through the door. The lute twangs with every step as it bounces against her back, and the sound fades as she walks away.

Ashur hmms softly as he crosses the room back to his writing desk. He picks up the quill and sits down again, murmuring, "Where was I?"

A while later, the work in the gardens begins again, providing a dull noise to keep Galand's mind occupied while he writes his letter. The sound of someone knocking at his door jolts him back into reality.

Galand sets his quill down and gets up, brushing dust off his trousers. He grasps the door handle and calls out, "Who is it?"

"Temple police! Open the door or I'll use Too-Slow as a battering ram to get in there!" The voice is unusually young-sounding and very familiar. It's also laughing hysterically at the moment.

The cat sighs inwardly, rolls his eyes, and calls out, "Temple police! Oh, NO! I guess I'll have to hide all the gambling, booze, stolen goods, and women of a disreputable nature! Give me a second to stuff them all under the bed, please!"

Another laugh, "Don't forget the laundered shekels… or did you run out of room?"

Galand opens the door, chuckling, "They're in my pants. How else do you think I stay so alert? All that cold metal… invigorating."

Standing outside is a young human boy with neatly cropped hair and a loose cotton uniform. Behind him is a Savanite with half a tail that looks almost like someone did use him for a battering ram. His head, arms, and legs sport bandages and he limps slightly as he moves.

"Mind if we come in? Archelaus managed to get me some escape time. I decided to use it to see how you were doing." The human smirks.

With a grand gesture, the Khatta ushers Rhys and Dar into the room, offering them seats. "By all means! It's good to see you again."

The human and Savanite wander in. Dar drops his head and keeps it that way as he walks in. Rhys makes a leap for the biggest chair in Galand's living room and sets his feet up on a coffee table. "So how have you been doing? I hope my friends have been treating you well."

Galand leans against the desk and folds his hands, the obsidian ring glinting a bit in the light. "Reasonably so. some of those 'unsavory things' you said I might have to do have indeed come up… " He trails off for a moment.

… and picks up, his face now an inscrutable mask as he says, in a calm, almost serene tone, "I… dispatched those duties efficiently, however." A moment later, and he's back to himself.

Rhys looks quizzically at Galand but decides not to press the matter further. "Any word on Shadowspite?"

Galand shakes his head. "Not really… Faraon's assistant… the Eeee… he thinks we were used as a decoy for the Guardsmen so she could close in on some baron or another and take him out."

Galand thinks a moment. "Yes. The Duke of Chesing, as I recall."

"Interesting." The human rubs his chin. "So what are you doing now?"

Galand holds up a hand, making the Savanite hand-sign for 'quiet.' He discreetly checks the windows to see if anyone is looking in or listening.

Outside there is the usual bunch of workers minding the 'dreamweed' flowers, but for the moment – and as far as Galand can see – no one besides the workers is out there, and they look much too far away and busy to be listening in.

The cat takes a seat close to Dar and Rhys, and speaks in soft, low tones that will not carry beyond the room. "All right. Your friends have managed to get me into their employ as well as yours. I'm to infiltrate the Assassin's Guild, and try to bring it down from the inside, either by funneling information, or direct action. It's… " He licks his lips a bit. "It's not the most savory work. I've already had three, ah … assignments." He looks at Rhys. "Your friends are very interesting people. I get the impression that if I'd said no, I'd be a red smear on a mountain downside somewhere."

"Don't be silly," the human whispers. "You're a friend of mine. They wouldn't hurt a hair on your head."

Galand arches an eyebrow. "I wouldn't be so sure, Rhys. You're my friend. In fact, if you don't want to pay me any more, I won't mind a bit. But I get the impression that these people… they use people, either by trickery, or by coercion, and I suspect you're not immune. Now… the last thing you want to do is confront them about it. Act normal, above all. I'm trying to figure a way out of this with our skins intact."

Rhys snorts, "Have they killed anyone in front of you? Flayed prisoners alive or anything like that? What proof do you have besides bad feelings and uneasiness?" He folds his arms across his chest. The glittering humor vanishes from his eyes.

Galand shakes his head. "It's the way some of the 'guests' and 'servants' around here act. Only one or two have directly said anything." He shakes his head again. "I'm probably just being paranoid."

The human smiles again. "I think you're just not used to being spoiled like the Dome tends to do. I really miss the days when they had me here before I had to go to Tarsus."

The cat shrugs, shoulders, tail, and whiskers. "I can't explain it, Rhys. Something about this place makes my whiskers itch. Not to mention the fact that I've killed three people in the last week, and the frightening part is that part of me is reveling in it."

"Who have they sent you against?" Rhys pulls an apple from a basket resting on the coffee table, and rubs it against his shirt.

Galand hmms. "A couple Kavi gamblers who didn't pay their debts… another Kavi who'd stolen something from an 'herbal' shop. They gave me this… " He holds up the obsidian ring. "I guess you could call it my member's badge."

"Bah. Just street garbage. You probably did Rephidim a favor." The human takes a bite from the fruit, gesturing absently with his free hand. Dar's ears flatten.

Ash murmurs, "… but at what cost? You know, I used to pride myself on not actually killing anyone unless I had to. Now that's changed as well." He shakes his head. "So, anyway … how've you been?"

"The cost of the debt they owed! Besides, hopefully you'll be able find out who hired Shadowspite out to kill Cerbancos." Rhys picks some bits of flaked-off apple from his shirt. "I've been bored out of my skull mostly, but at least Tahir's stopped acting like a mother hen. I guess he finally decided to keep his nose out of my business."

The Savanite rubs a bandage on his hand as he forcibly tries to keep his ears from folding flat against his skull.

Galand shrugs. "He probably is concerned for you, you know. He might not know how to express it. I've… had similar problems in my family."

The human shakes his head. "He's an inferior officer who stole my job from me. He's probably acting out of guilt."

Galand hmms softly. "I see."

Rhys finishes the apple and pockets the core. "Anyhow… I just popped by for a quick hello. Mind if I park Dar here while I pay the dragon a visit?"

Galand nods and smiles. "Certainly. Enjoy your visit with him. I've not actually met him myself yet."

"I'll put in a good word for you." The human winks and pulls himself up to his feet. "If you have any messages you'd like to send to me, Dar's going to act as a go-between. He knows the sewer systems and the Warrens fairly well, so I've conscripted him as my messenger boy."

Galand nods, standing and opening the door for Rhys. "All righty then. See you soon."

Nodding, the human skips out into the gardens, vanishing behind one of the numerous hidden doors in the Dome.

Dar remains where he is, his gaze still down.

Closing the door, the Khatta slumps against it with a heartfelt sigh. He looks at Dar and says, "Did I just screw up, big time?"

The Savanite's lips twitch slightly as he fights down a snarl. He simply nods his head, rubbing the bandage there.

Galand goes over to Dar, frowning. "What happened? I can understand you now."

Dar takes a step back. "I was beaten up," he signs.

Galand sighs, sitting down. "Have a seat, Dar. I'm not going to hurt you. Relax, and tell me what happened?"

"I find it difficult to relax in the presence of the person who is supposedly responsible for my injuries," Dar replies, standing rigid as a nail.

Galand blinks, standing up again, spluttering, "Responsible?! I've been here for the past week at least. How am I responsible for your injuries?"

"After I was injured I was told to deliver a message to the Astromancer. That message was that unless he wished more Temple slaves to suffer worse fates than mine, that he was to not disturb you again." The Savanite frowns, pausing in his signs for a moment. "The Astromancer has had a hard enough time concealing the fact from his slave, Leeta, that he is being blackmailed because of her… and now he must deal with the guilt of causing another's injuries. I have never seen his eyes so full of anguish."

Galand closes his eyes. "Dar… I didn't mean for this to happen to you. I hope you believe that."

The Savanite simply frowns and turns to leave, his stump of a tail bristling.

A sound very close to a guttural snarl erupts from Galand's throat as he stands, reaching for his weapons and placing them on his person. "That's it. I've had enough of this dragon meddling in my life and hurting people near me."

This action causes Dar's tail to bristle even more ad he whirls around to look back at the Khatta, "What?"

Galand says plainly, "I'm not going to live under this person's thumb, and I'm going to try to get you out from under it as well, unless you've got a good reason why I shouldn't?"

"You can't bring down the dragon with your weapons. You'll be swatted down before you make it halfway there. Faraon has an army at his command and could probably toast you to a cinder if you somehow managed to single-handedly slay a hundred of the finest warriors in Rephidim." Dar shakes his head, "If you are sincere… then you should try to find out what they plan to do to the Astromancer instead of trying to become a martyr."

"Now that I've got your attention, listen up, Dar, because I mean every word of it. I. Didn't. Know. I didn't know that these people were like this until after I had already spoken with them the first time, and they put me in this pretty little cage. I didn't know that you were going to be hurt. If I'd known, I would've walked away, not told them a thing, and furthermore, if I had known, I would've told Rhys where he could put his friends. If he doesn't open his blasted eyes and see the vhai that's about to rain down around us, he's likely going to wind up a pawn the rest of his life, or dead, and the Astromancer with him." Galand stands there and pants for a minute. "Now… you going to help me try to stop this, or are you going to stand there?"

Dar looks conflicted, "Let me ask you one thing first… if you did not intend to get the Astromancer into trouble, why did you tell them that he had secretly met with you?"

Galand shakes his head. "I didn't think about it. I didn't fully realize the pull these people had."

Galand looks up, meeting Dar's eyes, more than a little of "Ashes" lurking in the cool blue depths of his own as he says, "But I intend to get him out of trouble. And you, me, and the rest."

"What do you want me to do?" the Savanite signs, looking resigned.

The cat starts pacing, musing, "I'm not sure. You do have a point in that if I go in there half-cocked, I'm going to get fried, extra crispy. I'm going to keep working at this from the inside. What you need to do, I guess, is make sure that Rhys doesn't get himself in any deeper than he is already, maybe pass a heads-up to the Astromancer from time to time."

Dar nods his head, "I can do that."

Galand sighs. "I really don't have a solid plan, Dar… but I'm going to play 'kiss-the-Poodle' as much as I can to see if I can't find out what's going on."

The Khatta offers a bow to the Savanite. "But for what it's worth… it's been good knowing you, despite the misunderstandings."

"I will do my best to spread word with the other Temple slaves about you… although I should mention that not all of us favor the Astromancer. The fact that he outwardly owns a slave, even though Leeta stays with him because she wants to protect him, makes many of the other Temple slaves rather bitter. I do not know who you can trust and who you cannot. Dar's hands sign.

Galand hmms. "There's a Savan here, by the name of Digger. She considers Leeta a hero of sorts, and I think I can trust her."

Dar nods. "I must go. I suggest you gather as many friends as you can, Ashur Galand. You will need them to pull yourself and everyone else from the Dragon's mouth."

Galand nods. "I agree… I might even need my enemy within."

"Good luck. I will be back later tonight. If you have any messages you wish for me to deliver, have them ready." The Savanite's eyes flick over to the desk where Galand's letter to his sister rests.

Galand nods. "I will. Hunt's Luck, Dar."

Tail flicking, Dar bows and exits, following a different path in the hedge maze outside.

Sighing heavily and uttering a few choice oaths in High Khatta, Ashur Galand sits back down at his desk and starts writing again… Rhi, I should tell you this: Watch for strangers, watch for people suddenly claiming to be your friend. If someone asks you to go to Underside with them, by all means, DO NOT GO! This is important. I've gotten tangled in some nasty business, and I want you to stay clear of it, Twinnette. No heroics, no charging down on one of your pet vortexes to save your brother. I'll get out of it somehow… not sure how yet, but you know me… I'm a survivor.