Pony pressed her face against the opaque shield, trying to look out at the river. Saying their trip through the forest had been a disaster would be an understatement. They'd barely left the road before a host of mutated creatures swarmed over them.

It was a sheer miracle they had survived.

And they wouldn't have if Olivia hadn't used her holy magic to burrow a hole into the ground. Trapped in the inner bowels of the earth, they had stayed in the darkness for over an hour as they'd tried to figure out what to do next.

In the end, Alf had set the entire jungle on fire. Then like some insane pyromaniac, he'd fed its flames as they followed in the wake of its destruction.

It was a mean and horrible thing to do to the animals in the forest, but Drake had insisted it was the only way. Pony shuddered as she thought of all the little, helpless creatures running in terror from the Dragon kin's natural disaster. And despite the prince's constant reassurance to the contrary, Pony couldn't help but wonder when one of Vackzilian's minions were going to pop up. The blood oath's may be stupid, but even they couldn't miss a whole forest on fire.

"The others are asleep sweetie," her eldest sister whispered, interrupting her thoughts.

Removing her face from the glistening blue barrier, Pony looked over at the tent where the grand champion rested. Tears welled up in her eyes; Zaphaniea had fainted halfway through the day and hadn't awoken since. Olivia had done what she could, but she'd been preoccupied with trying to keep them all alive. In the end, everyone had mistakenly tossed it up to the grand champion suffering from a bad case of heatstroke along with having used too much energy; after all, they'd been mere feet away from a blazing inferno, and the heat of the day had already proved unbearable.

By the time they'd made camp, Olivia had collapsed from exhaustion, and Silver and Drake had seen to putting her and Zaphaniea to bed.

Scarlett wrapped her arm around Pony's shoulder. "Maybe it won't be as bad as it was last night," her sister tried to reassure her.

Pony wiped away her tears and nodded. "Maybe," she said, her voice slightly hopeful, as Silver led the others towards the champion's tent.

The waning moon, shining through the charged shield, cast watery shadows over the barren, burnt land. Dust danced in the faint moonlight as their footsteps sent up plumes of ash while they crossed the short distance.

***

An hour and a half later, the tent lit up with a brilliant light as the three maids transformed back into their human form.

Silver knelt down beside the grand champion, blue light shining from her eyes while she examined her handiwork. After several moments, she looked up at Pony and shook her head.

Pony's heart sunk as the light from her sister's eyes faded away and complete darkness filled the void. "Let's try again," she urged.

A slight rustle of movement echoed in the tent as her eldest sister reached out and took her hand. "No sweetie. All three of us are already on the verge of collapsing from exhaustion. I'm sorry, but there is nothing more we can do for her."

"But...," she muttered.

Fabric brushed against fabric and Scarlet wrapped her arms around her. "We just don't have the energy or the medical knowledge to help Zaphaniea anymore."

Pony stared into the blackness at her feet where the grand champion lay. On the surface, the woman was a self-centered, antagonistic, egotistical maniac, but on the inside, she was a scared little girl who, despite her fear, would do anything to help those in need around her.

They just couldn't let her die like this.

She lifted her head and gazed with determination at her sister's. "We might not have the energy or medical knowledge," she stated, "but Alf and Olivia do."

"Oh, sweetie," Silver scolded, brushing the strands of hair that had fallen in front of Pony's eyes back behind her ear. "You know we can't do that. It would be breaking the oath we have with the Brockovich's and it'd put all of our offspring in danger."

Pony pushed her sister's hand away. "Forget the stupid oath. I never liked it anyway, and Alf would never do anything to harm our children; besides, you told that stupid kid."

In the pitch blackness, Pony felt the gentle smile that spread across her older sister's face as she pulled her closer. "You're right. Alf would never intentionally hurt our clan, but he is young and impetuous and not mature enough to handle our secret. As for the prince, it was only a matter of time before he figured out what we are, and this is far better than him discovering it on his own."

"But..."

Silver wrapped her in her arms. "I know. I know," her sister whispered in her ear. "You have a big heart, and it hurts to see things like this happen. But there are just some things we can't fix."

Pony buried her face in her sister's arms and started to cry.

As the soft sound of weeping filled the tent, both of her sisters tightened their grip, holding her close as she wept.

After several minutes of her sobbing, Scarlet said, "Let's go to bed. Today's been a long day and we're all exhausted."

Pony nodded, wiping at her tears with her hands, and together, the trio carefully stepped over Olivia and made their way around the earthen barrier to their side of the tent.

***

Zaphaniea smiled to herself as she slid down a giant rainbow with her new friends, her arms and legs wrapped around the back of a unicorn with a brown mane.

The four of them splashed down into a gigantic, white, fluffy cloud, and she rolled off the unicorn's back into the floating white matter.

"Let's go again!" she exclaimed as she backstroked through the liquid cloud.

But instead of scooping her up on their backs and carrying her to the top of the rainbow as they'd always done before, they stopped swimming and just stood there, staring at her with sad expressions on their faces as their crystal horns sparkled in the bright sunlight.

Zaphaniea stopped playing in the cloud and turned to look at them. "What's wrong?" she asked.

None of the trio answered, but the unicorn with the brown mane started to cry.

The champion's smile faded. "What's wrong?" she asked again, this time her voice full of alarm.

Still, none of the majestic creatures answered her as they turned their back and trotted off into the swirling clouds.

"No wait, don't go!" she shouted after them, but it was too late.

They were long gone.

***

The grand champion sat straight up and peered into the darkness, trying to figure out where she was. Finally, realizing she was in the traveling tent with Olivia asleep beside her, Zaphaniea raised her hand to her throbbing forehead.

"Well that was morose," she muttered to herself as she remembered the dream.

Lifting her hand, the champion produced a light and tried to figure out what had awakened her.

As the light gently flooded the peaked, rectangular-shaped tent, Zaphaniea breathed a sigh of relief. Nothing seemed out of place. Then something moved off to her side, and Zaphaniea glanced over to see Olivia tossing and turning. The healer's eyes moved restlessly beneath her eyelids, and her arms yanked and pulled against the fabric as if she were in a tug-of-war with her sleeping bag.

"And I thought my dream was sad," the grand champion grumbled to herself as she slid out from under her sheets and crawled over Olivia's side to shake her awake. But as she reached out to touch the healer's shoulder, lightning exploded from Olivia's fingertips and knocked her flying across the room.

Shaking from the shock of the explosion, Zaphaniea lay there in a tangle of arms and legs against the edge of the tent, trembling as the last tinges of the electricity faded away. "Oh now she's done it!" the champion exclaimed, rolling to her knees.

Producing several spheres, she sent the pink magical balls flying across the room and straight into the still unconscious Olivia. Like angry pink bumble bees zipping through the air, the magical balls hit the sleeping healer with enough force to roll her onto her face.

"That should wake her," the grand champion mumbled as she sat down Indian style, fully expecting Olivia to sputter awake. But instead of the meek, mild healer she'd expected, Olivia sprang to her feet, grabbed the sheets, and tossed the sleeping bag aside. Her eyes flew open in a blaze of light, glowing a bright gold as they lit up the entire tent.

The scent of burnt ozone filled the confined space; the air hummed with pulsating energy, and the healer's hair floated out behind her like an avenging goddess of old. Suddenly, her eyes latched on Zaphaniea, and at that moment, the grand champion knew something was not right.

The grand champion threw out her arms, summoning her spheres back to her side as two beams lanced out of the healer's eyes. Yanking her spheres in front of her, Zaphaniea barely managed to intercept the oncoming attacks. The sound of two opposing energies clashing echoed in the small space as the golden beams bounced off her spheres, streaked across the darkness, and sliced a giant hole in the side of the tent.

Not about to stick around with the crazed healer, Zaphaniea launched herself through the tent, out of the hole, and into the dark night.

Seconds later, the canvas behind her exploded, and Olivia, with long beautiful dove-like wings, rose skyward. Flapping her wings, the healer shot straight up and slammed into the surrounding blue shield with a dull thud, then careened backward. Not to be stopped, the berserk woman raised both of her hands, and light exploded from her fingertips. A giant, golden beam slammed into the shield.

Light sizzled and sparked and blue fragments fell from the sky like thousands of tiny stars, but the barrier held.

Olivia's glowing, expressionless eyes looked down at Zaphaniea, then quickly scanned the area. Spotting a dip in the land by the bottom edge of the shield, the healer swung her arms, and another beam lanced out.

Her magic burned a hole into the ground, and before the grand champion could react, Olivia dived into the hole. Several seconds later, Zaphaniea watched the blurry outline of the healer's glowing figure rise skyward on the opposite side of the nearly opaque shield.

"Oh, this is bad. This is really bad," Zaphaniea muttered as the healer disappeared off into the woods.

***

Drake sat up straight as one of his perimeter spells alerted him to movement outside of Alf's shield. He raised his arm, tapped on the gem attached to his forearm, and with a tiny flash of light, a blue screen appeared.

That's not right, he thought to himself as the screen clearly displayed something leaving the perimeter. Carefully displacing the sheet covering him, he scrambled to his feet. Then tiptoeing around the edge of the tent and the sleeping Alf, he slipped outside.

As his eyes adjusted to the dim light cast by Alf's shimmering barrier and the waning crescent moon overhead, he spotted Zaphaniea laying on the ground, staring at the far side of the camp. Then his eyes latched onto the half-collapsed tent and alarm shot through him. Keeping low to the ground, he dashed across the open camp to the grand champion's side.

"What happened?" he hissed.

"Olivia went berserk and nearly killed me. That's what!" the grand champion spat as she pushed herself out of the ash and wiped soot off her face.

Drakovian stopped in his tracks and stood up. "What?" he asked.

The grand champion turned to him and said very slowly, "Olivia went berserk and tried to kill me. Then she blasted her way out and flew off into the woods," she said with a fluttering motion of her fingers.

Berserk? That didn't make any sense, unless... "What did you do to her?" the prince demanded.

"Oh no you don't," Zaphaniea said, raising her hand and shaking her finger. "You can't pin this on me. All I did was try to wake her from her nightmare. She's the one who went berserk."

There was that word berserk again, but it couldn't mean what she thought it did. "Why do you keep saying berserk. You mean she was upset?"

"No, I mean berserk! You know, an unconscious killing machine!" Zaphaniea snapped. Rising to her feet, she mumbled under her breath about needing a bath and a pain killer as she shook her soiled silken blouse.

Oh, it was what she meant. But that shouldn't be possible, Drake thought. Berserk was a preprogrammed fight or flight response and something only high-level agents, or royalty, utilized. Only the highest level of spell crafters was able to formulate such programs. Harold might be able to, but it was not something he'd ever do. Programming such a spell in Olivia could even endanger Alf's life, and the butler would never risk that. It was also impossible for anyone to install a berserker spell in themselves, so Olivia couldn't have done it either.

"What are you doing standing there?" the grand champion exclaimed, cutting into his thoughts. "I told you. She flew off into the woods."

Zaphaniea was right. He'd have to figure out this mystery later. Scanning the area, Drakovian searched for the healer's point of exit. Then he spotted where Olivia had bored a hole into the ground by the base of the barrier. "She flew off in that direction?" he asked, jutting his chin at the hole.

"Yeah," the grand champion answered, a look of concern flashing across her face. "Should I wake Alf?" she asked, turning towards his and Alf's tent.

"No," he answered. "If she really is berserk, he'll be more of a liability than a help."

"Oh yeah, I guess you're right. That lovesick fool would probably try to hug her and get sliced right in half."

Drake ignored the champion's comment, dashed back over to the tent, and slipped in quietly. Procuring the sword with traverse wake from the sleeping Alf, he mentally took control of his sphere and the one Alf had released when he fell asleep. Then stepping back outside with the two spheres in tow, Drokovian pushed both of his hands together and combined them into one giant pink seat.

"Ah, you're going to-"

"Don't say a word. Just get on," he said, cutting her smart-aleck remark off and throwing her the sword.

"You're so cute when you're flustered," Zaphaniea teased as she caught the weapon and plopped down into the magical beanbag.

Once again, the prince chose to ignore her comment. Throwing out his left hand, he sent them both flying across the ground towards the hole Olivia had created.

"Hey, wait, where's the rest of my spheres?" the grand champion asked.

"You automatically released them when you fell unconscious earlier today. Neither Alf nor I were able to handle that many, so we left them behind," the prince told her while he guided the sphere she sat upon through the hole in the ground and out through the other side of the shield.

The smell of fire and smoke burned the prince's eyes and stung the back of his throat as they left the protective barrier behind and entered a land of soot and ash. Hot, arid wind singed his face, and miniature tornadoes of black ash whirled around his feet.

"Ah man, that means I have to make a whole new set," the champion complained, apparently impervious to their new conditions.

"That shouldn't be hard seeing as you slept most of the day," Drake stated while he maneuvered the floating sphere upwards and together they rose skywards into the dark night. If the champion's spheres followed the normal law of gravity, this would be impossible, but since they stayed wherever they were placed, Drake could maneuver them higher and higher as he followed Zaphaniea.

As they made their way into the starry sky, the prince swallowed and struggled not to look down. Under normal circumstances, this would be utter foolishness; if Drake forgot to follow Zaphaniea, he would plummet to his death hundreds of feet below. Regardless, they needed the vantage point to figure out where the berserk healer had gone off to.

"It's not my fault you guys are trying to work me into an early grave," the grand champion quipped as she raised her hands and started to produce more spheres.

A twinge of guilt struck the prince. Zaphaniea's statement was likely truer than she could ever imagine. He hadn't had much time to examine her, but while putting her to bed earlier that night, Drake had concluded his original assessment concerning her physical state was gravely in error. Her white blood cells were undergoing rapid cellular degeneration. Which meant the champion had not merely strained her body, she had also damaged her mind redirecting Vackzilian's meteor.

And from his experience, such injuries rarely ended well.

Flipping up his eye patch, Drakovian channeled energy into his eyes and gazed down at the barren land now far below. Once again, he swallowed hard, though not from his current predicament, but from the thought of the champion dying. Every war had its casualties. At least, that's what the prince kept telling himself to stave off the pain of losing so many he'd loved. Of course, Drakovian planned on telling Olivia of his discovery, but he knew what her answer would be. No healer alive could reconstruct neural passageways, not even holy users. Which was a good thing, seeing as such a skill would potentially make mind control and telepathy achievable.

Even then, Drake found himself wishing it was possible for Zaphaniea's sake.

With those morose thoughts plaguing his mind, the world took on an orangish-red hue. Hot wind tore at his black sleeping attire as Drake scanned for any trace of the healer.

The charred wasteland stretched out before them, then slowly tapered off where the heat from the magical fires had died down. Half-burned trees and scattered patches of green lay in its wake until the thick, moist jungle took over once more.

"There," Zaphaniea stated, pointing down at the glowing Olivia standing amongst the charred trees.

Drake swung his gaze in the pointed direction, and two energy sources flashed into view: one glowing a honey gold and the other pulsating an ebony-tinged blue. Drakovian's breath caught in his throat. There, swishing its tail in the blackness, a monstrous panther slowly crept up on the unaware healer.

The prince threw out his hand, swinging the magical chair around, and shot off in Olivia's direction.

"Hey!" Zaphaniea snapped as she received an unhealthy dose of whiplash, and her hair flapped out behind her.

"Olivia!" he shouted, trying to get the healer's attention. But, alas, they were too far away and too late. The mountain-sized panther leaped through the air, its dagger-sharp claws aimed straight for the glowing healer's back.

Drakovian fought the urge to look away as the healer died a gruesome death. But as the animal hurled forward, Olivia spun around. Her eyes burned with holy magic, and her hand flew upwards as five white beams lanced out from her fingertips.

The carnivore let out an ear-piercing screech as the beams sliced it cleanly apart. Moments later, six neatly cut pieces thumped to the ground around Olivia.

Drakovian gulped and pulled his hands in, bringing them to a sudden stop. The healer stood there, her cold, emotionless face and stark white wings illuminated by the shifting crimson red and orange hues of the dying embers.

She looked like an angel of death standing amidst a blackened land of destruction and mayhem.

"Perhaps we should plan our approach more wisely," he stated, the after-images of her holy magic dancing across his sight.

"Agreed," Zaphaniea whispered curling up and hiding behind the sphere she sat upon. Together, they sat there watching Olivia as she scanned the surrounding area. She then jumped into the air, floated a little distance, landed, and then scanned the area again.

"What's she doing?" the grand champion asked peeking over the edge of her seat down at the healer far below.

"Searching for her panic room," the prince stated as he watched Olivia repeat the pattern.

"Huh?"

"Berserk uses a person's subconsciousness to protect them in case they fall comatose in a life-threatening situation. It has two main states: fight or flight. But each state has several subcategories. For spies and agents, the 'flight state' usually consists of trying to reach a safe distance or a safe house where the agent can then rest until regaining consciousness. For young children of overly protective royalty, the flight state consists of one thing and one thing only: reaching the panic room. And that's what she's trying to do," the prince explained hovering in the smoke-filled darkness.

The grand champion turned to stare at him, the hot wind whipping her hair about her face. "But Olivia is an orphan; she has no parents."

"I know," Drake said, recalling the unicorn's statement about Olivia's past.

Over and over, the healer jumped into the air, floated a little distance, then landed and scanned the area again and again. His eyes narrowed as he watched the healer's erratic pattern for several more moments. "She's getting closer to the jungle," he whispered. "We need to stop her."

"No duh," the grand champion remarked, rolling her eyes. "The problem is how."

"As I see it, we have two options," he told her as the lonely dirge of the wind played in his ears and the land below ebbed and flowed in a pool of shadows. "We can try to subdue her and keep her contained until she regains consciousness—which is the straightforward choice—but that could lead to several complications."

"Yeah, the primary one being our heads may end up parted from our bodies. There's no way I'm taking that chance," Zaphaniea spat, her eyes tracking Olivia's movements. "What's the other option?"

"We help her fulfill her goal," Drake stated simply.

The grand champion's nose wrinkled in bewilderment as she looked back at him. "And how do we do that?"

"I'm not sure. It depends entirely on what her subconscious thinks the panic room looks like."

Zaphaniea pulled her knees under herself. Sitting on her legs, she leaned out over the edge of the magical seat and looked down at Olivia as she passed underneath them. "Well, to me, a safe room is a place with thick metal walls and a giant door that swings shut. And I'll tell you, there is no way we can make something like that, especially not without Alf's help."

"That sounds about right," Drake mumbled. Of course, the champion was right, making such a structure with just the two of them wasn't feasible. They would need Alf's help, but they didn't have time; Olivia's current course would lead her straight into the forest in less than two minutes, where a host of dangerous nightlife would be waiting. It would take more time than that to return to the campsite, and even if they managed it, involving the young High Lord would probably not end well.

He closed his eyes to try to visualize another option.

"Hey!" Zaphaniea shouted at him.

He threw open his eyes and gazed at her angrily. "What?" he snapped.

"Not much. Just that you were about to try that 'mind palace' thing of yours and plummet straight to your death," she snapped back, the light of the moon highlighting her worried face.

Drakovian glanced down and his heart leaped into his throat. She was right. He'd nearly forgotten to keep following her. Wait.... "How did you know about my visualization techniques?"

"Because I spent months with you in my visions. Duh."

That's right. She could see the future. "Hey, can you-"

"No," she said, cutting him off.

"Why not?"

"Because my head hurts! And it has ever since I stopped that stupid meteor."

"Oh," he found himself uncharacteristically muttering. Of course, her head was hurting; she was dying without even knowing it.

The prince pushed the thought aside, compartmentalizing it just like he had done with all of his other emotions of late. "Looks like our only option is to try and redirect Olivia in order to buy ourselves ti..." he started to say and trailed off as his eyes lighted on a hill rising out of the barren wasteland.

"Scratch that," he said, maneuvering Zaphaniea's pink seat as he dropped them out of the sky. "To our left, several hundred feet ahead, there is a hill. Use your holy magic to drill a hole into it and earth magic to smooth out the walls. If we can conjure up a suitable door, Olivia might just believe it's what she's after."

"I can't do that," the champion argued, her hair streaming out behind her.

He stopped them several feet above the ground.

"And why not?" Drake asked, landing on the remains of a stump. Pulling his hands apart, the prince split the sphere she sat upon in half and dumped Zaphaniea into the ash. "Olivia has done it several times."

"Because I'm not her," she barked as she landed unceremoniously on her rump, sending up a cloud of cinders. Pushing her hands against the burnt wood, she scrambled angrily to her feet. "And why in the world would you drop me like that?"

He shrugged and faded into the darkness, becoming completely invisible. "I'm going to see if I can redirect her towards the hill. I'll buy you as much time as I can. Just do your best."

"But I already told you I... Fine, whatever," Zaphaniea spat and turned towards the blackened knoll rising from the ground. Then the grand champion shot off as she started to snap her fingers behind her back.

Drake spread his fingers, further dividing the two large spheres in half. Now that his feet were back on the ground, and he didn't have to concentrate on following the grand champion, he could actually think.

***

Zaphaniea had never actually used her holy magic to dig holes in the dirt; in fact, she'd rarely used her holy magic at all. Good thing it'd turned out to be easier than she'd imagined, she thought to herself. All she'd had to do was lightly blanch the dirt with her holy magic, and it'd fallen apart. Which had made it super easy for the champion to move the dirt out of the way with earth magic.

Huh, maybe I should think of being an architect, Zaphaniea randomly thought as she stood in the dark, shallow space located under the hill. The moist smell of earth flooded her nose as she burned away several more inches of soil. She was almost done with the makeshift panic room when Drake's voice suddenly sounded in her ear.

"I hope you're ready!" an out of breath voice shouted.

Zaphaniea turned around to see the entire sky behind her light up with streaks of holy beams while plumes of dirt erupted into the air. Whatever the prince had done had clearly ticked off the berserk healer.

"Almost," she answered. "I'm just putting the finishing touches on the door."

Kneeling down, the champion placed her hand in the loose dirt at her feet and envisioned what she wanted the entrance to look like as she channeled energy into the ground.

"Get out of there now!" the boy's voice yelled as the sound of wingbeats reached her ears.

Zaphaniea released her charge and the door sprung to life in front of her, rising from the ground like a puppet on a string. Ya, maybe I should forget that idea of being an architect she thought as the door emerged looking quite different than what she'd imagined. Leaning forward, she reached out to try to refine the shape.

"Forget it! Run!" Drake shrieked.

But it was too late. Air whistled; a cloud of dust rose from the ground, and a heavy thump reverberated through the earth as Olivia landed less than ten feet behind her.

Zaphaniea spun around to face the berserk healer, and her heart seized in her chest as Olivia's expressionless, glowing eyes locked onto her. Time seemed to slow down as the winged warrior raised both of her hands with her fingers spread wide. Scrambling to defend herself, the grand champion threw her arms up. She pulled her spheres in front of her as the healer's eyes and fingers released gold-tinged rays of death straight at her.

Zaphaniea should've easily deflected the attack, but things weren't normal: her head pounded; her energy was all over the place, and her spheres moved sluggishly while she tried to reposition them. Desperately, the champion shoved energy into her spheres, trying to make them move faster, but she pushed too hard. One of her pink balls went spinning into the void, and a high whining pitch hummed in Zaphaniea's ears as the beam from Olivia's left thumb raced past her barrier and straight towards her heart.

Suddenly, something slammed into her side. Stars danced in her vision, and the deadly beam scraped Zaphaniea's left arm as she was thrown to the right; then the ash around her exploded up from the ground, obscuring Olivia from view.

As plumes of soil and dust covered the night sky, a small, invisible hand grabbed her own. Yanking her arm and pulling her along, the invisible Drake forced Zaphaniea to run from the scene of battle.

Heat radiated up through the champion's sandaled feet, and Zaphaniea's lungs struggled for air as they sped along the side of the blackened hillock. Finally, they rounded the side of the hill and two spheres slammed into her shoulders. Knocking her off her feet, they pushed her to the ground. Then the sound of ripping cloth echoed through the air.

Seconds later, a shirtless Drake appeared in the darkness and threw himself on top of her. Then out of thin air, an oddly colored, grayish-black cloth fluttered down over the top of them.

"What are-?"

"Shush," the prince hissed, cutting her off, his face mere inches away from hers. His hand moved over her waist and grabbed her shirt.

"Hey!" she exclaimed.

"Shhh," he hissed again as strands of blue electricity ran the length of her blouse, charring the formerly snow-white garment to pitch black. Then he reached past her waist, the wiry muscles in his arms tightening, and a gust of wind rushed past them, pulling a pile of dust and ash over top of her feet and obscuring both of them completely from view.

"Oh," she muttered as she suddenly realized he was trying to camouflage them.

His furious eyes, one dragon gold, and one piercing blue locked with hers, and he angrily pushed his index finger to his mouth, telling her to be quiet for the third time.

Several minutes passed as they both lay there in silence, him lying on top of her, and his breath brushing against her cheek as his eyes watched something through the hillside she couldn't see.

It was an odd situation, and with a start, Zaphaniea realized it was the first time she had been this close to someone since the day Vackzilian had attacked her family. And it wasn't at all how she would've imagined or wanted it.

The champion shifted uncomfortably.

"Stop fidgeting," the prince hissed.

"I can't help it. You're squashing my chest," she hissed back.

Drake rolled his eyes in aggravation and placed his hand over her mouth.

The grand champion fought the urge to punch him in the face and instead waited there quietly. When this was all said and done, Drake was going to pay. And big time, she thought to herself as the moments crept by more slowly than an African snail crossing the Imperial highway.

"She entered your panic room and is laying down," Drake said at last.

"Finally!" she exclaimed, shoving the boy off of her.

As Drakovian landed on his rump in the ash, she sprung to her feet and wiped the dust off of herself, then looked down at her blouse. "Ah man, look what you did to my clothes," she complained.

"It was necessary to keep us both safe," the prince stated as he righted himself. "And you should be careful, the spell I-"

A loud crack echoed through the air, cutting him off as a strand of electricity jumped from her garment to her hand as she tried to brush the dirt away.

"Ouch," she yelped, yanking her hand back. That hurt far more than it should've, she thought and raised her hand to look at it. By the soft light of the moon, she could see angry red burn marks on the left part of her palm. She frowned. "How did that burn me?"

"Amperage," Drake stated.

"Huh?"

"Never mind," he said standing to his feet and reaching out for her hand. "Here, let me."

She looked skeptically down at him.

"Here, let me heal it," he said again motioning impatiently.

Stretching her injured limb out reluctantly, Zaphaniea let Drake have her hand.

The prince cradled her fingers in his, and soft, caressing stands of energy flowed across her palm, healing the minor burn. Feeling awkward as his smooth fingers stroked her palm, she looked off towards the makeshift panic room. "How long do we have to wait?" she asked, her voice sounding strangely hollow. Zaphaniea's ears still rung from Olivia's attempt on her life, and the strange, ringing silence of the night sunk into her psyche, making her feel nervous.

Drake's eyes, glowing with a soft orange light, glanced at the hillside. "Olivia looks like she's already fallen asleep, and since it accomplished its goal, the berserk state should have deactivated."

"So what do we do?" Zaphaniea asked, thinking how this night had taken the cake, as the old saying went. She'd been dumped, shot at, sat upon, and shocked, and that didn't include the weird dreams, raging headache, and kamikaze mission.

"Wake her up," the prince answered, his voice pragmatic as always.

A shudder ran through the grand champion. "I'd rather not. The last time I tried that, she nearly killed me."

"You're right; she does seem to be in a heightened state. Trying to wake her might reactivate berserk," Drake agreed, his attention returning to her hand. "In that case, we can wait for her to wake up on her own, which I don't advise. The fire has scared off most of the creatures, but come morning, this area will be covered in scavengers of some form or another."

"No, you're right. That wouldn't be good. Any other option?" she asked while she watched the dancing strands of energy knit and heal her blistered skin. She had to admit it; the kid was pretty talented.

"We take her back to the tent without waking her," Drake suggested.

The champion's eyebrows scrunched together, and she gazed up towards the moon. "That might work," she said as she mulled it over."It will be difficult, but I'm pretty sure I can move her with my spheres, though you'll have to use some type of spell to keep her asleep."

"That's easy enough," the shirtless prince said, releasing her mended hand and walking towards the makeshift panic room.