"Have you come to kill me at last?"

An hour after the meeting broke up I found myself leaning against the front porch rail, a mug of Wolfman's superb coffee steaming in my hand, gazing across the brilliantly sunlit clearing at the old barn. Raised voices were beginning to make themselves heard from there. Evidently Deebs and Grease were having an argument over something, and I supposed I should wander over there eventually and see what all the yelling was about.

That line of thought, however, was put on hold when I heard a quiet step behind me. I closed my eyes for a moment, bracing myself, then nodded without turning. "My Lady," I greeted.

"Hasai," Dithra returned, then paused for several seconds before continuing. "Hasai, the clans--"

"My Lady, please," I interrupted, fighting down a surge of irritation. "It was the only thing I could think of to do. I'm sorry your plan didn't work; more sorry than you could ever possibly imagine. But it didn't work, and that's all there is to it. We need to find another way, and if you're not willing to help, may I respectfully suggest you be so kind as to step aside and let a soldier do his job."

"Hasai, please; allow me to speak."

I sighed, then turned to look at the ancient dragoness. Her expression was still quite unhappy, but now that unhappiness was mixed with a distinct helping of pensiveness that had replaced the simmering anger of earlier. She sighed. "You are correct, young one," she began. "I was quite upset with you at the gathering, when it seemed to me that you took all of our work and casually discarded it without a thought. It took Stefan's words, the words of a dragon far younger than myself, to make me realize that the path I had expected you to take, to disavow that child and turn away, was a path bereft of honor. It was a path that Ahnkar or Ksstha might take, but not yourself and, I pray to the Ancestors, not I."

Dithra fell silent then, her eyes studying the weathered planking beneath her feet. I was about to say something, but then she continued. "I may yet be of some small use. In those moments between the destruction of Ahnkar's agent and our departure I had an opportunity to study those around us." Her gaze rose to meet mine, her expression one of sadness. "I once told you that a dragon fears nothing but dishonor, but I may have overstated myself a little. There may indeed be something else that a dragon would dread, and I think I saw it in the expressions of my peers as we stood within that chamber and watched someone evaporate into nothingness. A dragon would indeed fear being casually swatted out of existence, with no hope of defending herself."

"In an all-out war, the humans would do no less to us, my Lady."

She carefully searched my face, then finally gestured assent. "Yes; I see that you truly believe that, and I confess you would know far more about the subject than I. Most dragons, however, would not believe it. They do, however, now fear your sphere of the Lung and what it can do. I saw it there, in their eyes." Dithra's expression grew intense. "If reason will not work, then perhaps fear will. Let me play upon that fear, dear one. Perhaps I can persuade some to turn away from this course, before it is too late."

I gazed at Dithra for a long moment, more than a little surprised that she felt she needed to ask me permission for something. "If you could get just a few of the Elders to remain neutral--"

"There is no neutrality among those who give or receive Challenge, young one. Still, there may be something that can be done."

I looked at her some more, then silently nodded to myself. What was there to lose? Let them hate, so long as they fear, quoted my human side, and I was in no position to disagree. "If you truly believe that it can be done, my Lady, then all I can ask of you is to be careful." I paused, then sighed. "I don't think I could bear losing you as well."

The ancient dragon bowed slightly, her warm, gold-green eyes never leaving my face. Then she sobered. "Dear one, there is one more thing I must know. Forgive me for asking this, but have you given any thought as to what might happen if you fail? Have you made any plans?"

I grimaced, my mouth pressing itself into a thin line as I turned away to gaze at the barn again. "I have started to, my Lady." I responded at last. "No--" I held up a hand to stave off her next question. "I hope you will forgive me, but I think it would be better if I kept them to myself. At least for now."

The tourists generally don't come down here, not to the parts of the San Francisco waterfront that deal in freighters and trawlers rather than cutesy little souvenir shops and hideously overpriced restaurants. Down here, the grimy waves lap against the battered piers, various bits of waterlogged trash bobbing at the edges, the whole smelling of dead fish, overripe garbage, and spilled fuel oil. I felt one corner of my mouth curl down into a grimace, then turned the collar of my field jacket up against the chill Pacific wind and walked toward the lone figure that sat on the end of the wharf, legs dangling over the edge, staring out at the fading evening sky.

"Thinking of tossing yourself in?"

The figure exploded to his feet, spinning to face me, teeth skinning back in a feral snarl. I fought down the urge to recoil, held perfectly still until Kaa'saht recognized me and slowly, very slowly, straightened from his crouch, his red-rimmed eyes staring at me. "The thought did occur," he muttered at last "more than once." I nodded silently, and for several long moments we stood there, looking at one another. "Have you come to kill me at last?" he finally asked.

My mouth twitched into a thin, cold smile. "I'm rarely that merciful," I replied.

"Then why are you here?" he rasped.

That smile widened a fraction. "To offer you a job."

Stefan's former agent just stood there, looking at me for so long that I began to believe that he'd had some sort of seizure. Finally he blinked. "What?"

"You heard me; I'm offering you a job. Are you interested?"

Kaa'saht seemed to sway slightly, but then gave himself a sharp shake and glared at me suspiciously. "What sort of job?"

"One that just might require the rest of a very unpleasant, very short life," I replied, the smile fading. "But one I think that you will accept. I want you to care for my mate and children."

The disgraced dragon sagged in disbelief. "What-- What do you mean? What in the name of the Ancestors are you talking about? What--"

I sighed, leaned back against a dirty tarp draped over some anonymous crates. "Kaa'saht, just shut up and listen. Things have gone to hell in a hand basket, and there's a good chance I'm going to need someone in place and ready to spirit Pasqual and the children away. I need someone who will hide them from both the Council and the clans, and who will defend them beyond all sanity." I sighed again, lifting a hand to rub my eyes. "I cannot give this responsibility to Lady Dithra. She is an admirable person, but I suspect a bit too much the politician. She may be tempted to be reasonable, to compromise, if it meant peace between the factions. Stefan, I'm afraid, is far too much of a realist. No," I lifted my gaze to meet Kaa'saht's "what I need is someone who will not be reasonable, who will not be a realist. Who would be better than someone who loves Pasqual, and whom she loves in return?"

Kaa'saht became perfectly still, his face going deathly pale. "She told you this?"

"She didn't need to." I smiled, perhaps a bit wistfully. "The two of you were together in Ahnkar's shadow, then within my control, plotting your mutual escape, for so very long. Then afterwards, after you had been banished, nothing. In all the time since then, she has never asked about you, mentioned you, not referred to you in even the most indirect of terms. Nothing." The smile became a quiet chuckle. "Pasqual will be quite formidable someday, but first she must learn subtlety. No, there can be only one reason for your sudden, utter, non-existence, and it is that Pasqual fears that if I learn about what exists between the two of you, I will hunt you down and kill you."

"And why haven't you?" the young dragon asked quietly.

"Good question." I leaned forward, rested my hands on my knees, my gaze dropping to the weathered planks beneath our feet. "I suspect it's because I haven't been very good for Pasqual. We met in a cloud of deceit, both of us using the other. Fear and misery are the only things that I have ever offered her, and I think . . . . And I think that it is ruined between us, that we will never be able to trust one another." I looked up at Kaa'saht. "Perhaps it would be better if she started over, with someone else." I felt the corner of my mouth quirk upward sardonically. "I accused Stefan of being a realist. Well, I'm a realist as well. And reality tells me that you're the only one I can hope to trust with this, even if it is for all the wrong reasons. Will you take the job?"

Kaa'saht looked just a little bit like someone running short on oxygen. "You will want-- Do you wish an oath of fealty from me?"

I snorted. "Dithra and Stefan had oaths of fealty from you, and you walked away from both." The dragon flinched at that. "No, all I want is your word. Do I have it?"

The disgraced dragon stood there, staring at me, and for a minute I thought he was going to burst into tears. "You have it, my Lord," he choked out at last. "With all my heart I say that you have it."

And we're back to the 'my Lord' crap again. . . . I nodded, carefully looking away from Kaa'saht's raw emotion. "Very well; we still need to hammer things out. You'll be operating completely isolated from the rest of us, and no-one else will know of this arrangement. So, we'll need to rig a contact system among other things." I thought for a moment. "I passed a pub a few blocks back. Lets go there to work things out, and to get the hell out of this wind."