Story (c) 2000-2003 by Hikaru Katayamma/Keith Dickinson. All rights reserved. The character Sheila Vixen (c) Eric W Schwartz. Throckmorton P Ruddygore, Poqua, Lakash (c) Jack L Chalker. Jack (c) David Hopkins. All other characters are (c) Hikaru Katayamma.  This story contains adult situations and language. By reading it the viewer agrees not to hold this or any other person responsible for any content they may find objectionable. If you don't like it, don't read it.

The cavernous room stood silent, the only movement or sound coming from the torches flickering along the walls. Arden stood, staring down at the unconscious form of Sheila for several minutes before kneeling down next to her. He reached out with his hand and caressed her muzzle, gently stroking the fur. "Sheila," he said in a quiet yet firm voice. "Wake up, Sheila." As he continued to caress her face, the sleepy vixen smiled and rubbed herself against his palm. "Wake up. It's time to go."

"Time to go?" the drowsy female replied, opening her eyes. She blinked a couple of times as she focused on the man's face. The blurry oval resolved itself into the now quite familiar image of Arden; only his eyes were wrong. It took her a second to realize it wasn't a trick of the dim light, but that his eyes were in fact solid black with no trace of whites or irises. "What happened to your eyes?"

"My eyes?" he replied, rocking back on his heels for a moment in thought before smiling. "My eyes, yes. I can see now. I can finally see." He glanced around the room before beaming a smile back down at the vixen. "There's so much that I understand now that I didn't before, when I was blind." He shook his head, as if to get rid of the distraction. "But we can't sit around all day talking about that. There are enemies about, and the longer we stay here, the more likely they'll find us."

Sheila's gaze shifted from his eyes to the hand he held out for her. Taking his hand, she was swiftly lifted to her feet where a wave of dizziness stuck her for a moment. "Whoa… I feel woozy," she complained, holding her head with her free hand and trying to balance herself.

"It's natural. You should feel OK in a few seconds," Arden replied while reaching down to pick up the silks, which had been folded neatly nearby. He opened the top and held it out for her to slip into. "Put the armor on. It will lend you strength."

As she slipped her arms into the silk jacket, Sheila felt an odd surge of strength fill her body, helping her to steady herself. Cautious despite the new strength, she carefully put on the pants and tied the outfit off with the silk sash. She held her hand out towards Arden who simply cocked his head at her. "The swords?" she prompted.

"Oh," he grunted as he removed the wakazashi and tanto, handing to them. "I'm going to need this one," he commented, patting the katana.

Sheila nodded to the oversized, ebony colored sword that was still sticking out of the middle of the circle. "Why do you need that one when your old one is still over there?"

"That sword…" the large man muttered, walking over to the sword and drawing it. He glanced around, frowning. "Where's Lucifer?"

"He's gone." The old witch with her cane stood up from her chair and walked over to the circle. "You didn't expect him to stand around watching you drool, did you?"

"Lucifer!" Arden snarled at the air. "You still owe me three services!" He looked around for a few moments, before again shouting, "Lucifer!"

A strong tenor voice spoke from behind him. "Would you stop shouting already?"

Arden spun to face what appeared to be a Franciscan monk. The man wore simple brown robes and had the bowl haircut that the monks were notorious for. "Who are you?"

The monk smiled and bowed. "My name is Asmodeus. I'm sorry, but I must inform you that his unholiness is unavailable right now. However, I have been ordered to deal with you for your remaining tasks, as long as they are within my power."

"No," Arden grunted. "Not good enough. The bargain was with Luci, so tell his assholiness that he needs to attend to business."

"His…" Asmodeus paused, letting a small smile caress his lips. "His assholiness is busy. He warned you that he had pressing business elsewhere. You can either wait for him to finish, or tell me what you need." He brought up his arms, tucking his hands inside the sleeves of the robe and watched Arden with a smug look.

Arden opened his mouth to argue, but instead closed it. With an annoyed sigh, he tossed the ebony blade to Asmodeus.

Catching the blade by the hilt, the monk held it at arms length by two fingers, as if it were a dead rat. "And just what am I supposed to do with this?"

This time it was Arden's turn to cross his arms and chuckle. "Why, deliver it to Hukkath, of course."

The monk's face turned red. "What the fuck do I look like," he shouted, "some kind of God damn delivery boy?"

"Well," Arden replied, drawing the word out, "you said you'd do any task if it was in your power. Are you telling me that you can't deliver a sword?"

The brown-robed man pursed his lips and glared at Arden for a moment before nodding. "Yes, it's within my powers," he reluctantly admitted. "Are you telling me you were actually going to make Lucifer deliver this sword?"

"Oh yah. That, I was," Arden replied lightly. "Don't worry. It's not a demeaning as you think." The monk's glare forced him to unconsciously backup a step. "Trust me. Take a good look at the sword."

Asmodeus glanced at the sword, paused, and then studied it closely. "Excuse me," he said, taking a step towards the other man, "but aren't there supposed to be a pile of pristine souls taken from a bunch of kids?"

"I think that was the original intent," Arden replied, smiling at the other man's confused expression. "However, Hukkath made the mistake of losing his temper as I was asking him about all the different possibilities. He actually said, and I quote," he cleared his throat a couple of times before speaking in a gruff snarl that sounded like it belonged to a wild animal. "I don't care about any of that shit. If the kids are already dead then bring me their parents."

The monk put the tip of the sword against the floor and leaned on it. "OK. I'll bite. What happened to the kids?"

"I killed them, of course," Arden replied with a shrug. "Before performing the ritual, that is."

Asmodeus chuckled as he shook his head. "I don't quite think that's exactly what Hukkath had in mind."

Arden nodded in agreement. "Neither do I. However, I did live up to the letter of the agreement, though maybe not the spirit."

The monk looked down at the sword and chuckled. The chuckle soon transformed itself into a fit of snickers, which then became a full-blown laugh. After two long minutes of this, he ran out of breath. Virtually collapsed and leaning heavily on the sword, he wiped tears from his eyes. "Oh, that's too precious. Hukkath's been bragging about how he worked a scam to get a pile of pure souls and you screwed him at his own game."

Arden nodded, his smile growing somehow larger at the praise. "So, do you still think this is some shit delivery job?"

"Oh, no!" Asmodeus replied quickly, tucking the sword into his belt. "I'm going to relish the look on his face when he realizes he's been had." Another small fit of chuckles passed over the man before he got control again. "All right, is there anything else you need right now, or can I go?"

"That's it for now," Arden replied, bowing with a flourish. "I'll give Luci a holler when I'm ready for the next task."

"Luci, eh?" The monk shook his head. "I'd be careful about that if I were you. You may be important to him now, but once you're usefulness is done, he's going to bitch slap you around like a red haired stepson. So take my advice and don't antagonize him. You don't want him for an enemy." With that said, he simply faded into the darkness and was gone.

The old woman cackled and pounded her stick on the floor. "You've got one hell of a pair of brass balls, boy! Playing with Hukkath like that."

"Hukkath is of no concern," Arden replied, rudely turning his back on the old woman as he stepped back over to Sheila. "Shall we?" he invited the vixen, gesturing towards the door. As he reached the doorway, he looked back at the old crone who was intently studying the summoning circle. He gestured with a finger, creating a crackling blue sphere, which he then lobbed towards the circle. As it struck, a shockwave tore through the floor, reducing the black granite surface to gravel and destroying all traces of the summoning ring.

"No!" the old hag shrieked. "You destroyed it! You destroyed the circle!" As and afterthought, she looked around at the rubble and added "And you destroyed my floor! Do you have any idea how much it's going to cost to replace that?"

"Send Luci the bill," he replied, stepping through the arch.

Outside, two figured stood inside the open mouth of the snake and watched the couple as they climbed into the buggy. One wore immaculate shining silver plate and gold chain armor with an ornate gold and silver sword hanging at his side. Next to him, a small man in a dapper suit and hat stood leaning on a cane.

"That's him," Lucifer stated, nodding at Arden.

The other man frowned. "He's not much to look at, is he? Is that the best you could come up with?"

"Hey!" the devil barked in defense. "It's not like we had a selection here."

"Still," the other mumbled, absentmindedly stroking his chin, "I don't like the idea of having to rely on him. He's too unstable."

"Unstable, schmable. He's the only chance we've got," Lucifer replied. "This is the first time Lakash has stuck his neck out in eons. It's no time to get choosy."

An armored head shook negatively. "It doesn't matter. We will not interfere. We can not break the compact, even by agreement."

"Damn it, I'm not asking you to break the compact," the dapper man replied, annoyed with his companion's attitude. "You're the only one who can do this. You and I both know it can be done in the Sea of Dreams, where the compact has no influence."

"I don't know," the armored figure commented skeptically. "I can't afford to show bias to either side. If the Voice caught wind of that, it would cost me my wings."

"You worry too much. Besides Lakash wants it done too, only not quite the way I'm suggesting. You can't get in trouble if all three sides want it done, right?" He turned to the man and placed his hand on an armored shoulder. "We've got to cut the connection between him the dragon while giving him his human form again. The only way to do that is by rebirth, and we can't do that without your help. Are you in, or do I have to do it myself?"

The armored man frowned. "You know he won't trust you with that."

"Then do it for me," Lucifer said, almost pleading. "For Christ sake, this is the end game. If we don't fuck it up, we can neutralize Lakash."

"All right," the large man replied, brushing off Lucifer's hand. "All right. I'll do it. Just stop taking Junior's name in vain, OK?"

The devil smiled and nodded cheerfully. "Whatever you say. So, I have your word that you're going to do it, right?"

"Yes, already," the armored man acknowledged, annoyed at the repeated question. "I'll do it. You have my word." He looked in the general direction that the buggy had gone and frowned. "So tell me: If this is such a good thing, why do I feel like there's a large, heavy object hanging over my head, ready to drop?"

Lucifer chuckled and clapped the armored man on the back. "You'll get used to it. I've had that feeling ever since I first met him."

The small campfire crackled and popped as Sheila slept on the ground next to a log, wrapped in a blanket while using another for a pillow. Arden sat near by, watching the fire and listening to the night sounds. Near the edge of the clearing, the horse stood with an empty feed bucket nearby.

Sheila rolled over and cracked her eyes to watch Arden. His eyes had remained large, glossy pools of ink that reflected the light from the fire. As she watched, a plant sprouted from between his fingers, quickly growing from a tiny thread into a large, colorful flower. It was as if she were watching a time-lapse movie of some sort. She watched as he took a sniff of the flower and then stared at it again, causing the flower to immediately wither and fade to dust. Over and over as she watched, he repeated the scene, each time with a different flower. Sometimes the flower was one she recognized, other times they looked like some mad scientist's attempt to cross-pollinate. "What are you doing, practicing your illusions?"

"Illusions?" he echoed thoughtfully. "No, no illusions." He concentrated and created a flower, causing it to sprout from nothing and grow to full bloom within seconds. He took a sniff, savoring the aroma before tossing it over to Sheila.

The vixen picked up the flower, avoiding the sharp thorns and inhaled the sweet scent. "How'd you do that?" she asked, studying the flower. It looked and felt real to her.

"It's quite simple once you can see the pattern," he replied, looking around at the forest. "Any sorcerer can summon up a reasonable knock-off, but it won't be a living plant. They can't see the entire pattern. That's why they're always doing research. They can't see how it's all put together, so they guess." He summoned up another rose, this time a yellow one, and sniffed it.

"And you can see it now?" Sheila asked, watching him wearily. "You can see how it's all put together?"

"That and much more," he replied, smelling the rose again before crushing it in his fist. "I thought Lucifer was doing me a favor, showing me how to use this sight, but now I realize that there are some things that mortals were never supposed to see."

The vixen twisted and managed to sit more or less upright, leaning against the log. "Arden?" she asked in a quiet, uncertain voice. "What's happening to you? What's happening to us?"

Arden looked at her for a moment then turned away as if unable to face her. Instead he stared down at his hand and summoned an orchid. "They're making me into a weapon," he replied in a somber voice. "The bargain Lakash made with Nanuk has left him vulnerable, and they're going to use me to strike at him."

Sheila frowned at him. "What about your quest? What's going to happen to you when this is all over?"

"The quest? Oh, if everything goes according to their plan, the quest will be complete." He let himself lean backwards until he was lying on the ground. "As for me, I don't know anymore."

"You don't know? What the hell do you mean, you don't know?" Her brow furrowed as she studied him. "What am I supposed to do if something happens?"

He sat up again. "I mean I don't know! This isn't like paying a parking ticket. There's no guarantee about how things will turn out. As for you?" He shrugged. "You'll get back home one way or another. It's part of the bargain." Sheila looked down at the fire and pulled the blankets closer around her. "Are you cold?"

"No," she spat back angrily in reply. "I'm just… I'm scared."

"Of what?" He scooted his way over to the log and settled down in near her. As he reached out to put his arm around her, she pulled away. "What's wrong? There's nothing to worry about. You will go home when this is all over."

"God damn it," she snarled, taking him aback, "I don't give a flying fuck about that." She clenched her teeth and frowned. "OK, maybe I care a little bit about it, but that's not what I'm worried about. What am I supposed to do when I get back? I'm counting on you to be there with me."

"I know," he admitted quietly as he looked away, past the fire, "but you're a resourceful girl. You'll manage to get by somehow."

Sheila hit him in the arm hard enough to rock him and nearly knock him over. "God damn it, that's not what I'm talking about! What about us? What about our baby? What happened to us being parents together, living in a nice house somewhere? What happened to all that?"

He looked at her with those black eyes that made her feel like he was looking into her soul. "What about it?" he challenged in a harsh tone. "You never wanted that. You've been complaining about how you were nuts to let yourself get pregnant. You never said anything about wanting any of that." He leaned forward, forcing her to lean backwards over the log. "Where do you get off trying that bullshit on me? Huh? Hell, you don't even love me, do you? Admit it---you don't!" Arden sat back and turned angrily towards the fire.

The vixen closed her eyes and hung her head. A single tear crept down her face. "I don't know if I love you or not," she whispered. "Everything's so confusing right now. I don't know what I feel." She didn't see his face soften as he turned to look at her. "I don't know anything at all. I'm so alone now. You're the only thing I have left in the world and I don't want to loose you."

Arden reached out and brushed the tear from her cheek. His eyes locked with hers as she looked up at him. "I guess we're both in the same boat about now," he said, cupping her face with the hand and caressing the fur with his fingers. "Neither one of us knows what's going to happen. All we can do is hang on and hope for the best." He dropped his hand down to pick up hers and held it tight. "All I know is that I still love you and I won't abandon you. No matter what happens, if it's at all possible, I'll come back to you." He paused, and then looked away, releasing her hand and whispered under his breath "If you'll have me."

Sheila reached out to touch him, but stopped. Trembling with indecision, she finally dropped her hand to the blanket. Pulling it tightly around her as she turned and rolled back over onto the pillow and stared into the fire.