He was lying on his hammock. Faber and Stanton played cards. Ingrid slid the folds of his tent apart. Her robes were white as bleached bones. The last time he'd seen them they were covered in Blain's blood. Damon was too tired to get out of his hammock. He almost gave Ingrid a smile, but it was too much effort.

"You're coming to the commander's tent at night, Guardian. That might seem unseemly."

Ingrid crossed her arms. "Go fuck yourself."

"I'm too sore."

"Then why don't you have one of your 'brothers' to do it for you."

"You heard my words?"

"You mean the propaganda?"

"Do you think it helped?"

Ingrid looked over at, Faber and Stanton. "These two were probably shedding tears."

Faber smirked. "I'd love to see you shed that robe."

Ingrid stalked over to Faber's hammock; she towered over him. "I know you're used to sleeping with sheep in the hinterland but you're in the Royal guard now, and I'm a Guardian. Do you want to see what I do to little men with big mouths?"

"No Ma'am."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

Damon swung out of the hammock and straightened his twisted back. "I guess now we know why we aren't supposed to fraternize with the scions order. I know you didn't stop by to shoot the shit, so is the Scion here?"

"No, she's in the meadow beside the Pyre; she'll meet with you there."

Damon contemplated prying the secrets of the order from the scion while fighting off dark creepers from all sides. "Very well, I'll alert the men."

"That won't be necessary. She will meet with you there alone. You'll be safe."

"Do I have your word on that?"

"Well, I'm not going to make any pledges, but if you run into any trouble just give them a speech. I'm sure you'll be fine."

Damon reached for his can of pit and tucked a wad into his lip. "All right let's go. You two stand at the gate if you see anything suspicious scream, if I'm in trouble find her."

Damon walked out of the gate by himself. The sky was clear, full of stars and dark shadows. He held his pike up high and gritted his teeth, waiting for a pair of talons to bite into his flesh. The field was full of moving figures clawing at rotting meat. Two little girls in white stood on either side of the pyre their faces flickering in the flames. The girls didn't seem to be moving their lips, but the thousand voices all speaking at once clearly came from them. Between the little freaks in front of the pyre sat their mother on a wooden chair.

"There is no need for worry, captain. Have a seat. My children have a knack for speaking a tongue that the creepers abhor; you will not have any trouble here."

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Damon didn't retract his pike but decided it would be unmanly not to sit. So, he planted himself across from the Scion and tried to make sense of her.

She looked to be in her early thirties. She wore the tight white robes of the order, but her top was cut away to expose half a breast on each side. The effect was interesting; it made a man's mind multiply the two parts into one whole. Her cheeks were covered with an ivory sheen and her lips were wet and red. Her silver hair was long and braided, it draped down to her hips framing her exposed chest.

"How have you proceeded with your training? I hope you are fully prepared for your task. Although it would seem that you have had some difficulties with the minglers. Personally, I don't mind the little squishy ones that do all the thinking; I find they make a delicious soufflé once you boil off their hides."

Damon thought of the wretched screaming thing with his pike struck through it. He thought it resembled something human and wouldn't want to develop a taste for something like that. He cleared his throat. "The reason I asked you here was for a favor. You see the mission is in danger. We had a saboteur; he killed one of our pilots. I'd like to ask your help in finding another."

The Scion nodded her head. "Unfortunately, this is a trying time for Galleria. They're prince committed treason, they are at war with Thermica, and their princess is being committed to a foreign religious order to absolve the pregnancy of the child wrought from her brother. The royal family will not be inclined to answer any of my requests for soldiers and I'm sure you would prefer not to have them know of your mission directly. If they were to find that they were under threat from a Creeper Queen, and Thermica, then I'm afraid the whole city would devolve into mass panic."

Damon spat and then wiped some of the pit dribble from his lips. He held his can out for her in an effort at being polite, but she waved it away. "Well, Ma'am, I'm told that members of your order have a knack with these creepers, I'm told that many of your people are capable pilots."

"You're asking that a member of my order accompany you on an EIS mission?"

"No, I'm asking for five of your order to accompany me on an EIS mission."

"And why would I do that? It breaks protocol; it goes against specific clauses of the scions treaty. if it became widely known the scions order would lose its distinctive role, its credibility. Our members would be pressed into service at the whim of every entitled royal in the empire."

Damon reached into his pocket and pulled out a small leather booklet. He opened it and traced an intricate drawing of a naked scion being burned below a group of naked graven prodding her with forks. "On my last assignment, I became well acquainted with a certain member of your order; she was not very discreet with some of your secrets."

The scion looked at the leather booklet and laughed. "That's a cheap EIS trick. Who'd you have draw that or did you do it yourself? What of the other pages? I'm sure they're blank. We have nothing to hide Damon. Ee have no love for the creepers. We came to live with you because we preferred it to living with the beasts. In exchange for our protection, you give us some of your women so that we may train them to keep your walls safe. We don't have any nefarious connections that must be kept hidden. Although your crude attempt at blackmail is admirable."

Damon held up the book so she could see him flip through its pages all of them full of a writing he could not understand. "I believe this is the scions script, is it not?"

The scion closed her eyes. "Who have you shown this book to?"

"Just a few disreputable scholars."

"And I am to believe you didn't give it to any of your superiors."

"Not yet."

"And why not?"

"I'd like to understand it first."

"But you will give it to me, if I give you what you want?"

"I will give it to you if you give me five of your order and let me know what I'm up against."

The Scion shifted her legs in a not-so-subtle provocation. "Are you sure there isn't something else I can offer?"

Damon felt himself grow unnaturally excited. There was a different intensity to the voices from the little freaks; secret desires seemed to well up in the recesses of his mind.

Damon turned to the side and spat. "I don't know much about your order, Scion, but this isn't the first time one of you has used that tactic with me. Frankly right now I need more than a sirens call and a few minutes with your bare skin. I need some answers."

The call quit and the drone died down to its previous low hum.

The scion re-crossed her legs. "Very well, what do you want to know?"