A Changeling & A Meeting.

"What did you find out?"

"They know nothing of what has occurred, my Lord. Evidently, Ahnkar has used a--" Stefan made a sound reminiscent of someone dragging a concrete block across a rough wooden floor "--to replace the child."

I blinked. "A what?"

Dithra's agent frowned at my question, but then lifted his head in sudden understanding. "Ah; forgive me. It is a, hmm, a simulacrum, my Lord, made to look and act like the child. It is made in very much the same manner as these," he gestured to his human form "but unlike these it is not bound to anything that truly lives. Eventually it will grow listless, then weaken and die, apparently of natural causes. The technique was used many times to gather new material during the, ah, project that eventually resulted in yourself, my Lord," Stefan finished, looking slightly uncomfortable.

"Changeling.".

Stefan frowned again. "My Lord?"

"It's an ancient term for what you just described. Some human legends have it that the Sidhe used them to conceal the theft of children for use as slaves." I chuckled darkly. "Not quite right, I guess, but pretty darned close to the truth. Harvesting genetic material, I presume?"

The ex-Stasi agent grimaced. "Yes, my Lord."

I nodded, sighed. "Hopefully, we will be able to get away from things like that soon." I leaned back in my wooden chair until the rickety thing creaked alarmingly, glanced out the cabin window at the lengthening shadows of another evening in the mountains. I sipped at my umpteenth mug of coffee. "How long before the replacement keels over?" I asked as last.

Stefan sighed, looked down to where his hands lay folded upon the table. "Unknown, my Lord; it all depends upon how much Power was expended in the making of the . . . simulacrum, and I know of no way of measuring that Power. I regret that I am not very knowledgeable in such things."

"Worst-case, then."

"Mere days, I suspect, my Lord."

I frowned, sipped again at my coffee. "So; the thing could already be dead."

"Unlikely, my Lord. In order to avert suspicion they are typically constructed to feign illness first, rather than simply coming to a sudden stop."

"So; not yet, but possibly soon."

"Yes, my Lord."

"Great," I sighed, "something else to worry about. If we don't get Anna back before that thing dies. . . ." I rubbed at my eyes with my free hand, thought for a bit. "Please, have one of your people keep an eye on it, would you? If it starts to fail, let me know immediately."

"Yes, my Lord."

"So; you're going to put it here?" My finger moved to a point on the map where a small rectangle had been penciled-in.

Fields nodded. "Yeah, that's the spot, give or take a meter or two. I took a look at the ground up there; it's pretty rocky, but I think we'll manage."

I frowned, propping my head on my hand while I studied the diagram. "A little close, don't you think?"

The Special Ops man ran his fingers through his hair in a gesture of mild frustration. "Yeah; I thought so too, but any further out and you hit solid rock. Deebs says we can shore it up so it won't slam shut on you, though."

I chuckled darkly. "Well, I certainly hope so. . . ." I trailed off, looking up from the table as Stefan came in the cabin's front door. He looked a little agitated about something. "Yes, Stefan?"

The former Stasi agent glanced at Fields and the papers covering the table, bowed slightly. "Forgive me, my Lord, but Lady Dithra is outside and must see you immediately. There are . . . some people that she wishes you to have words with."

I blinked at that, frowned, then turned back to Fields and gave the diagrams one last careful going-over. "Okay; let's go with this. Let me know how much help you'll need, okay?"

Fields sketched a salute. "No problem, Sarge. I'll get right on it."

"Good." I nodded to Fields then turned to Stefan, who gestured me out the door. I snagged my coat off its wall hook and we headed out. Dithra was waiting for us, standing in the soft snow at the edge of the forest. "Dear one," she greeted me warmly, I have someone I wish you to meet."

"So I understand, my Lady." I glanced at the empty forest around us, then back to her, one eyebrow lifting in inquiry.

The ancient dragoness caught the gesture and smiled. "They cannot come here, dear one. To do so would violate their agreement with me." She swung out an arm, gestured upslope. "We must meet with them at the edge of the clan territories."

Clan. I felt my lips pressing into a thin line, but I nodded. "As you wish, my Lady. May I lead the way? The one known as Lucifer has placed . . . things . . . in the forest about us, and an encounter with one of them can be extremely unpleasant."

Stefan nodded soberly. Dithra looked a trifle blank at my warning, but gestured assent anyway. We shifted to our true forms, then I spread my wings and headed up the slope with the others in train, in the direction the dragoness indicated. Shortly we came upon a small, high clearing on the mountain slope, a short distance from the clearing where I had caught up with Pasqual not-all that long ago.

There, two large draconic forms patiently awaited us. One of them I knew by his tiger-like striping of black and white. The other was markedly larger and was mostly a flat black in color, relieved only by the occasional marking of slate gray. His pale yellow eyes were a stark contrast to his somber, battle-scarred scales. Those ancient eyes studied me carefully as we approached, then passed on to regard Dithra. I paused just short of the two, my own eyes moving momentarily to Tin'na'tak to nod a silent greeting, then looking to Dithra as well.

The ancient dragoness stepped forward, stopping to the right and just behind me, and bowed to the elder dragon. "Hasai, may I present to you the one known as Trassahn, Eldest of the Sstahn clan. He has expressed a wish to have words, and words only, with you."

In other words, Captain Jack Sparrows' favorite word: Parley.

Trassahn and I bowed formally to each other, our eyes carefully never leaving our opposite. "I am here, Eldest Trassahn," I said at last. "What is it that you would wish to discuss?"

Trassahn's eyes widened fractionally, possibly surprised by my bluntness. Then they narrowed, studying me even more intently. Finally he came to some sort of conclusion and he straightened fractionally. "I have come to discuss with you the coming . . . altercation . . . between yourself and the Eldest of each of the clans, Lord Hasai," he replied with equal bluntness. "Discuss the situation, and, perhaps, come to some sort of accommodation. You are of course aware that when you gave Challenge you gave it to clan Sstahn, an ally of Lady Dithra, as well?"

I gestured confirmation. "Regretfully, Lord Trassahn. The one known as Ahnkar has assaulted myself and those of my blood, not once or twice, but thrice. His transgressions must cease, and this is the only course that was truly available to me."

Trassahn drew in a breath, then let it out in a sharp snort. "Ahnkar is a fool. A fool to so goad one of the Lung, and worse to pick such a battle while our world burns to ashes about our very ears." The Eldest made a sharp slashing motion. "I wish no part of this. My clan wishes no part of this. We were one of the first of the clans to join with Ksstha in his 'holy war' against the humans, and after years without number, battles without number, we have nothing to show for it. Nothing, save sending most of our people to join our Ancestors. Those few of us who remain have had enough."

Trassahn finally broke eye-contact, his gaze dropping to the snowy ground as he gave a very human sigh. "I am old, Lord Hasai; old and tired. I believe that I shall sleep soon." Tin'na'tak started at this simple statement, the look he turned upon his Eldest full of anguish. He remained silent, however, as Trassahn's gaze once again rose to meet mine. "But not until I know that the clan that I have been so fortunate to lead for all these years is safe," he continued. "A short time ago, a short distance from here, you held the honor of both our clan and my son in your claws. Held it, and then gave it back. We do not forget such things, Lord Hasai, and I do not forget them now. Therefore I need to ask you one and only one question: how will you rule?"

Taken aback, I blinked at the ancient dragon. Up to now I had never even conceived of such a question, so focused I had been on just simple survival. Now Trassahn was confronting me with it, and I had to consider what would happen if my mad gambit actually managed to succeed.

How will you rule?

Suddenly I realized that I stood on a razor's edge. To one side lay defeat and death; that I already understood. To the other side, however, lay ultimate power. All of the clans would bow to me, the Council would be meaningless before me. My word would be Law, until the day another challenger succeeded in dragging me down. Such were the old ways, the ways of power.

How will you rule?

In some shadowy corner of my mind, the dark wraith that was my human half slowly uncoiled itself like some midnight serpent, then whispered to me a single word. I felt my hackles rise at the sound of it. "Lightly, my Lord Trassahn, very lightly," I answered at last, my voice rough with emotion. "My interests are few; the safety of those of my blood, the well-being of those who follow me, and the ending of this idiotic war. Beyond these, I care little."

Lord Trassahn continued to study me for several long moments. What he thought of my answer, or perhaps more importantly my reaction to his question, he gave no sign. Finally he gestured satisfaction. "It will suffice," he said at last. For a moment more he looked at me, his emotions unreadable, then he drew himself up and spoke once again. "Those within the sound of my voice, I ask thee to bear witness," he intoned formally. "I am known as Trassahn, and I am the Eldest of clan Sstahn." Then, with a strange, slow grace he crouched down before me, forelegs splayed, wings laid flat on the ground, his head turned up and away, exposing his throat. "On behalf of both myself and my clan, I doth yield to thee, Lord Hasai."