Aboard the Ghost Lion, everyone was quiet. The air was thick with tension. They had nowhere to go and no way back, Lion thought, carefully maneuvering the wheel. Achromurcra was destroyed, and no one anywhere could move through gate-space except for the skyships that had the machine.

Kirone has done the impossible, he reasoned. She has sent the Spheres back at least a thousand years. He thought for a moment. How could any living person feel so destructive, he wondered again? All in the name of some imagined destiny.

"Where are we going?" Sachiel said.

"No one's told me that," Lion said, carefully maneuvering the wheel.

Sachiel furrowed his brow. "Hmm," he said. "That's not good, not with the line of ships we have. And we can't stay here."

"No," Lion said. "Gate-space has a tendency to degrade the hulls of skyships during a jump. Never mind the psychological strain of the nature of the space. That is why Machines used to ferry your people through space."

"I can't believe what we've been through," Sachiel said. "What we've created."

"You didn't create this," Lion said.

"In a way, I feel I did," Sachiel said. "All I wanted was to make sure my kingdom and my people were protected. I sensed a malignancy in the air. And I had to leave my people to save them. Now, look at us."

"Yes," Lion said. "But there is still hope."

"If there is hope," Sachiel said. "I'm having a hard time seeing it."

Adamov adjusted the collar at his neck and hummed. A tone, a rasping metallic note of speech emerged from his throat. He was in the lower depths of the Morgana, crouched shirtless over a foundry. He slowly reached into the burning urn in front of him, his dead fingers burning at the touch of what was inside.

It was a half mask, to cover the part of his face that had been marred by Liandra's claws. He very slowly put the mask to his face, despite his knowledge of death; there was still the fear.

He pressed it to his face, smelling the smoke of bunt flesh. The flesh fused with the metal, and the metal underneath his face. Smoke filled the room, and Adamov let his hands fall from his face. He opened his eyes. He blinked--once, twice. The machine readouts told him everything was nominal. He touched the three jewels in his forehead. For all intents and purposes, Adamov now had five eyes.

That would help, he reasoned. The next time I fight Darken Blackangel, my perception will exceed his. I will be master of the air, his sky-bound dominion. I will take his supremacy as he has taken my love from me.

The door to the room slid open. Kirone stood before him, waving the smoke away from her nose. He turned to look at her. She jumped slightly at the sight of his face.

"What is it?" He asked.

"I just . . . thought you’d want to know this," Kirone said. "We have Vertigo. She's being held in the brig right now. I thought . . .perhaps you’d want to see her."

"You're awfully conciliatory," Adamov said. His dark eyes burned their bright red pinpoints into her.

"Think of it as a reward," Kirone said, smiling. She couldn't take her eyes off the metallic mask that was fused to his face. What kind of being would do that to him, she wondered?

Adamov stared at her. The only sound in the room was the slow burn of coke and steel and flesh.

"I do not want to see her right now," he said.

Kirone looked shocked. "Why not? Isn't that what you came here for? To find her, to take her back?"

"I did," Adamov said. He sat at a nearly workbench, adjusting screws and bolts on a strange armature lying on the bench. "But I want Vertigo with a whole heart, not a divided one."

Kirone looked confused.

"The halfling, Darken Blackangel," Adamov said, as though that would explain everything. His voice modulator gave his voice a harsh rasp. "He has stolen my beloved's heart."

Kirone felt her natural instinct was to giggle. She willed herself to stop.

"You can't be serious," she said. "Vertigo knows nothing of love."

"Then you do not know her," Adamov said, his back to her. Kirone looked around the room. Pieces of wings, of arms were littered about.

"The Seketha could repair much more effectively," Kirone said.

"I do not wish their help," Adamov said flatly. "Your minions would not understand my . . .unique condition."

Kirone nodded. Even the Seketha weren't ruthless enough to fuse a mask to their own faces.

"So what will you do?" Kirone asked.

"It appears," Adamov began. "That your fight has become mine. To heal the split in Vertigo's heart, Darken Blackangel must die. I will kill him myself. Even now, I work to improve myself. I will fight Darken in his own dominion. I will break his wings and watch him fall."

"Too bad Darken just perished when the Machine Sphere exploded."

"He is not dead," Adamov said. "This one is very crafty. We have not seen the last of him. I have not."

"You’re awfully sure of yourself," Kirone said.

"You no more believe him dead than I," Adamov said. "You have said many times you two are bound by destiny."

"Darken and I are bound by a common destiny, by opposing destines, but what does that have to do with you?"

"I have my own score to settle with Darken," Adamov said. "Think of it as an exchange of destiny. You will have no obstacles to your final triumph. I will have my heart's desire."

"Are you proposing an alliance?"

"Yes," Adamov said.

Kirone thought for a moment. She would need someone to aid her in collecting the keys. Someone to help her when she went to Taruga. But at the same time, Adamov was dangerous. A being not bound by death or pain was difficult to control.

"What will I do with Vertigo," Kirone said.

Adamov looked at her. "You said you had some scores to settle with her," he said.

Kirone took a step back. Then she nodded and left the room.

Adamov turned back to his work. He tested the lead on the armature. It twitched, the fingers clenched and unclenched, it wiggled like a hand should.

Adamov stood up. He had a cutting torch nearby. He activated it with a disinterested motion; He held his arm up, and with one swipe of the torch, cut his arm off.

Phoenix wrapped the last of Darken's bandages around him. He was lying on a makeshift bed they had made for him in his quarters. She stroked his blue-black hair out of his face. He was resting comfortably, exhausted beyond all reason. The cuts weren't too bad, but the fatigue that had accumulated had caused his body to shut down.

Liandra sat on the other side of the bed. Her fairies sat on her shoulders, their hands clenched in concern for Darken. Liandra was holding Darken's hand in hers, gently stroking it.

"At least he's resting," Phoenix said. "All the things we put him through . . ."

"He never lets up though," Liandra said. "He'd never say it was too much. Always he carries so many burdens."

"I know," Phoenix said. She gently kissed his forehead. "I'm scared for him, Liandra. I'm scared he may have to actually bear the weight of the whole world soon."

"What makes you say that?" Liandra asked.

"I feel something," Phoenix said. "Something has changed here, ever since the Machine Sphere was destroyed. It's like something's been freed. I know it, I feel it. It's something dangerous, ancient and . . . familiar."

Liandra's fairies watched her. "What does that have to do with Darken?"

Phoenix frowned, resting against his chest.

"I'm scared, Liandra," Phoenix said. "I'm scared that I've dragged Darken into this."

"He would never blame you," Liandra said.

"He doesn't have to," Phoenix said. "Liandra, I love him with all my heart. I know he dreams of a normal, quiet life, where destiny is defined by the sunrise, the sunset, and what he makes of life between them. I just feel . . ."

"What?"

"I'm scared it may never happen."

Elita Miral had ordered absolute silence from every station on the Sorceress ever since the assault on the Machine Sphere had begun. Deep into the Dragon Sphere, in a skyship that was even now part of a fleet of aggressors on every Sphere, it wouldn't have done at all to be noticed.

She sat in her office, looking out at the burning volcanic mountains. Inside those mountains were armies of Dragons. She had fought against them years ago, before they had had these skyships.

She wasn't really thinking about that. She was thinking about the message that even now sat unfolded in her lap. She thought about reading it again, but couldn't.

Sandalphon, she thought. What you're asking me to do is insane. I understand the why, and I understand the debt I owe you, but this is too much.

Her mind drifted back twenty years. The Tomb of the Red Shadows. Sandalphon forcing her back to the Angel Sphere.

If it weren't for him, Elita wouldn't be here now.

She stood up, the letter falling from her fingers onto the floor. She walked out of the office without closing the door. Her eyes surveyed the officers. They looked shocked.

"What's happened?" Elita asked, brushing her light green hair from her face.

"Achromurcra has been destroyed, Lord Protector," the communications officer said.

As expected, Elita thought. "And the fleet?"

"8 ships have survived the battle, 7 are in gate-space as we speak."

Elita sat in her chair and took a deep breath.

"Open the channels," she said.

The communication officer did as he was ordered, the communication crystal glowed, awaiting her voice. Elita swallowed hard, and began to speak:

"This is Elita Miral, Lord Protector of the Angels. We are presently in the Sphere of Dragons. All extant ships please respond to our signal."

Darken took Phoenix's hand.

"What happened?" Darken said wearily.

Phoenix kissed him gently. "You almost fell to your death. I was able to catch you. Your wings got injured . . .you couldn't fly. I was so scared."

Darken took a deep breath. "Kirone?"

"She escaped," Phoenix said. "But I'm not worried about that right now, Darken. I just want to be with you, make sure you’re OK."

Darken took her hand. "It's all right," he said gently. "Romanova?"

"Yes?"

"I love you. Very much. I think of how much we've been through--how you saved my life so many times over. I think of how much you mean to me, and how little I've got done for you. Please, forgive me, I try so--"

"Shhh," she said gently. "No."

She brushed his hair out of his face.

"But there's so much," Darken said, tears flowing from his eyes. "I'm sorry."

"You don't have to try," Phoenix said.

"Love you . . . "

Phoenix cradled his head in her arms. "I love you too."

Vertigo hung in the brig of the Morgana. If she could have had one wish granted right now, it would have been for blessed unconsciousness. She could feel the danger around her. Kirone was here, that much she knew. She also realized that her sword was gone. It must have been obliterated when the machine sphere was destroyed.

Vertigo sighed. Somehow, she didn't feel very free. She had taken some of the power into herself . . .maybe a fraction of the sword's capacity. It could break her out, but where would she go? She couldn't fight off a whole ship. Not yet, anyhow.

She sighed and leaned against the wall. Trapped.

Kirone entered the room, flanked by two strange black-robed beings. One she could see. His pale white mouthless face and glowing green eyes marked him as something less that human. The other one was taller, seemed less like his partner.

"Get out of here, Kirone," Vertigo sneered. "I'm not gonna power your ship this time."

"Well, that's good to know," Kirone said. "Because I'm not doing that to you this time. Actually, I'm just holding you until someone else, someone you know, finishes a task for me."

"Oh, you rebuilt Lanicrus?"

Kirone shook her head. The taller of the robed figures shifted uncomfortably "I think you know. Adamov of Russalka?"

Vertigo's head snapped up. "What? But . . .he's dead."

"That he is," Kirone said. "But he's also very much alive."

"How can that be?"

"To be honest?" Kirone began. "I don't really know myself. But he's here, now. He says he wants you for himself. I told him that was perfectly fine with me."

Vertigo looked at her, her eyes never leaving Kirone's.

"So, what do you get to do with me while he's waiting for me?"

Kirone smiled. "Whatever I want," she smiled.

Kirone turned on her heel and walked out, followed by the two robed figured. The taller one spared her a glance as they walked out the door.

As the door slid shut behind them Kirone looked to the taller figure. "I told you it would do you good to see her, and I'll keep my word," she said, as the figure removed his cloak, revealing it to be Adamov. "I won't kill her."

"Yes," Adamov said. "You will do that."

Kirone nodded to him, and walked back to the bridge. Adamov looked at the door to the cell. If he could have cried, he would. Right now, it just hurt too much.

"Is the signal legitimate?" Sachiel asked nervously.

"I think so," Lion said. "In any case, I don't have much of a choice. If we don't jump out of gate-space, the ship degrades."

Sachiel sighed. "Sachiel to all ships, this is Pr-," He stopped for a second, unsure of what to say. "All ship jump back to Dragon Sphere. Message repeats, all ships jump to the Dragon Sphere. We will converge with the Sorceress at the Dragon Sphere."

He shut off the communication crystal and sighed. He needed to go see Leiliel, he was worried about her. He also wanted to make Darken was all right. And if he wanted to talk to him.

Phoenix save us, he thought. What do I do now? Darken, I'm in a territory unfamiliar to me. I'm not ready to be king, to be a leader on this scale, and the woman I love is hurt, is unable to be beside me. . .the woman I need is not here. What do I do?

He took a deep breath. Is this how you feel, Darken, when things are imperfect?

Darken lay beside Phoenix, holding her close to him. He didn't ever want to leave this place, where they were right now. He held her close, stroking her hair very gently. He felt in pain. . .in a lot of pain, but things were easier because Romanova was there.

She had even fallen asleep. She didn't really have to sleep--it was more an affectation than anything else, Darken had found. He wondered if she dreamt, wondered what she dreamt of.

He wondered if she was ever afraid at all. He wondered indeed if she could be afraid.

You're a goddess. You can do anything.

He had said that to her, a year ago now. . .ever since he had fallen into her realm. And she had proved him right. She had healed his heart when he thought it irrevocably broken . She had made him want to be a better person. She had even made it possible for him to go on when he knew he wasn't able to.

Romanova, he thought. Please. Stay with me. I know I ask so much, I know so many times you hold me up and I seem to do so little in return, but please. Stay with me. Give me your strength and I will give you my love. It's all I have. I love you, sweet Romanova.

I've always been scared of the future, because I can't see where it's all going. I need you there. I need your fire to keep me going, and your light to show me the way to our destiny.

"Romanova," he whispered, kissing her forehead. "I love you."

She took his hand in hers as they slept.