Milius grinned up at Sirius, who was still frowning down at him, shrugged, and said, “Wasn't my idea this time. Anyway, how come you're here?” he added, looking around at Shakil.

Both Sirius and Shakil raised their swords; Oceannerva’s sapphire and Vulcatrix’s ruby were glowing, but the lights were flickering, like strobing beacons.

“The swords signaled to you that we were in trouble?” Milius asked incredulously.

“Not exactly,” Sirius said slowly. “It was more like . . . a feeling, you know? I don't really know how to explain it — we just . . . knew, and then we came. . . . So who's she?” he said abruptly, jerking his head towards the ground, where Ariana was standing over the fallen girl, who was still sobbing uncontrollably.

“We don't know,” Milius said. “We were passing overhead when we saw her, and she looked like she was in trouble, so we —”

But the rest of his sentence was lost; a loud roaring, billowing sound had rent the air, and all of them turned to look back at the woods below. The fire that was eating away at the fallen tree creature was now spreading to the rest of the grounds, consuming everything in a blaze of abnormally large, scarlet flames.

“Oh — whoops,” Sirius said, grinning apologetically.

“I'll handle it,” Shakil said exasperatedly. “Come on girl.” He patted Aleia’s head gently and she rose into the air, spread her long, manta-ray-like wings, and spouted a hose-like jet of water to douse the flames. When they had finally died down, Shakil joined Milius and Sirius and the three of them swooped and landed beside Ariana and the still-crying girl.

The girl took one terrified look at them as they slid off the dragons and advanced on the pair, whimpered piteously, and hunched herself more tightly. The three of them stopped dead, and Milius stared at the girl, taking in her appearance for the first time. She was quite young, about the same age as he was, in fact, with olive skin, long dark hair that fell to her waist, and deep brown eyes almost like the god Pan’s, but larger and less intense than his own.

Milius found himself gazing more intently at the girl than he had initially thought, drinking in the darkness of her eyes, the smoothness of her skin, the lustre of her hair. She was beautiful. She glanced up and for a brief moment, their eyes met, dark and pale; Milius felt a rather unpleasant swooping sensation in his stomach, but the girl quickly dropped her head back into her lap as though frightened of hurting her eyes.

“Keep back, you three!” Ariana said sharply, throwing out an arm.

Milius, Shakil, and Sirius retreated, and Ariana bent lower over the girl. “It's okay,” she said in a low, soothing voice. “You're safe now. The monsters are gone, my friends took care of them for us. I'm Ariana. Can you tell me your name?”

The girl raised her tear-soaked face to Ariana’s; she was trembling all over. “H — Hestia,” she said weakly.

“Hello, Hestia. It's very nice to meet you. My friends and I are the new generation of Dragonknights. Do you know what that means?”

Hestia gave a quick, shaky nod.

“Good,” Ariana continued kindly. “We're going to help you, okay? But first we need you to tell us what happened. What were you doing out here, alone?”

“I — I was traveling, to the town. I was supposed to m-meet up with m-my aunt. I’m staying with her, until the Royal Wedding. B-but, I wasn't alone,” she added in a terrified whisper.

“Who were you traveling with?” Ariana asked.

“A family friend, and my cousin, Frederick,” said Hestia. “But we got separated.”

“Can you remember where?”

Hestia raised a trembling finger and pointed to the woods ahead of them. “We were walking past a t-tomb when the monsters came. He told me to run — that he would find me — but he still hasn't —”

Her voice broke. She buried her face in her hands again and began to weep afresh. The sound of her wails made Milius’s insides tighten, as though clenched by a cold fist.

Ariana stood up and turned to them. “You three go on ahead,” she said, “search for whoever’s out there. I'll take her back to the Cave.”

Shakil and Sirius nodded and dashed over to Aleia and Verdona at once, while Ariana lead Hestia to Vrydius. The great birdlike allowed them to mount him, then took off in the direction that they had come. Milius, however, hesitated, looking around apprehensively.

Sirius and Shakil were both waiting. Milius did not much feel up to riding Aleia again, but Verdona did not seem a much better choice from where he was standing. She was as large as any of the other dragons, though she was the most lizardlike of the bunch, coated with thick, burnished, metallic-looking scales, with a barbed tail like a mace, and large black spots dotting here and there along her bodice. Her eyes were a severe contrast to her hide; a bright, poisonous green, slitted like a snake's, and her fangs and claws were a shining bronze.

Milius sighed, deciding, then climbed atop Verdona, settling behind Sirius. The scales were not as uncomfortable as he had imagined, but still, they were far from pleasant.

With cries from their masters, the dragons rose into the air and zoomed off, gliding over the trees, close enough for them to spot their targets, but far enough away to evade murderous trees should they appear again. It was nearly ten minutes before they found anything.

“There!” Milius said. “That must be the tomb!”

Aleia and Verdona landed, and Sirius, Shakil, and Milius slid off, raising their swords and looking around. There was no one there, but Milius felt suddenly, deeply, uneasy. To his surprise, all three of their jewels suddenly flared again.

“What is it?” Milius said at once. “Is this what you meant earlier? Is Ariana in trouble?”

“No,” Sirius said, shaking his head. “This . . . this is something different. Something new. . . .”

“I think . . .” Shakil said, and Milius turned to look at him; his face had suddenly blanched. “I think . . . it has something to do with . . . with that.”

He was pointing at the ornate, white marble tomb set in the ground ahead of them. As they turned to look at it, Milius felt a sudden pulsing in his blade, but this was quite different from the other times he had felt it, when energy had been stored in the sword. The lights began to flicker more furiously, and a strange, rhythmic rumbling seemed to be coming from the tomb, almost like a heartbeat.

Milius suddenly became aware that Aleia and Verdona had frozen, standing stock-still, staring, unblinkingly, at the tomb.

“I don't like this,” Shakil said, looking deeply uneasy.

“Neither do I,” Milius said. The rumbling was getting louder, stronger. . . .

“Come on, let's go!” Sirius shouted. Milius and Shakil did not need to be told twice. They tore off towards the dragons, who had mercifully unfrozen, scrambled atop their necks, and flew off. They looked back as they soared along, and the flickering of their swords’ jewels, and the rumbling of the tomb, ceased at once.

They exchanged looks of undisguised terror, but no one spoke. They spent the next few minutes in disconcerted silence, and Milius was almost glad of the sudden shout from Shakil moments later, indicating the two figures below. The dragons descended, and they saw two young men ahead.

One of them was tall and thin with a shock of untidy auburn hair, kneeling over the second youth, who was leaning against a tree trunk, clutching his chest, from which blood was blooming.

The auburn-haired man jumped to his feet as they landed, staring at them apprehensively. He looked, Milius thought, vaguely familiar, but he could not place him. Before he could devote any more thought to the matter, however, the man spoke. “Who are you?” he demanded. “Stay back! Back, and state your purpose!”

“Easy!” Sirius said. “We're here to help you — if you just let us —” He made the mistake of extending his sword arm as he spoke: a strip of light hit the silver blade as Sirius tried to placate the stranger, and a wicked gleam ran along its length.

The man's eyes widened in horror. “No! Get away from us!” he yelled, his expression wild, and he dove to his left where, Milius had just noticed, an enormous black dog was lying on its side, under the shade of a large sycamore tree, something white sticking out of its chest. He seized the white object and flung it, as hard as he could, at Sirius, who raised his shield just in time.

The projectile hurtled straight into the shield, embedding itself right in the center, with such force that a ruby actually shattered.

“Hey!” Sirius said indignantly, prying the object, a short, sharp knife seemingly made of bone, from the shield and tossing it aside.

“Hestia sent us!” Shakil roared, as the man made to launch a rock he had just snatched from the ground.

The boy stopped dead, his blue eyes wide again. “Hestia?” he said slowly. “She's — she's alive?”

“Yes — but your friend won't be for much longer if you don't stand aside and let us help!” Sirius said bluntly.

The boy hesitated, looking from one anxious face to the next, then, very slowly, he nodded. Milius, Shakil, and Sirius hurried forward at once.

“My name's Frederick,” the boy said, moving aside. “And this is Cole.” He pointed at the boy lying beside him, gurgling.

“He looks bad,” Sirius said, rather unnecessarily. “What happened to him?” he shot at Frederick.

“It was that,” Frederick said, pointing at the huge black creature. “That dog started chasing us when we passed this weird tomb a while back. I gutted it” — Milius heard a strain of pride in his voice as he said it — “but not before it took a swipe at his chest.”

“A Hellhound,” Shakil said, peering over at the dog. “Pretty ferocious creatures.” He turned away from the dog and bent lower to examine Cole’s wound more closely. “He's lucky to be alive. He'll need a dose of Nectar, at least,” he added to Milius.

“A dose of what?” Frederick asked, looking bewildered, but Milius paid him no attention.

“Can't — it's back at the Cave, it'll take too long to get it,” he said.

“What about the vial Pan gave you?” Sirius asked.

“Who?” Frederick interjected, but again, Milius ignored him.

He doubted very much that this would be the big moment that Pan had predicted when the Nectar would prove truly necessary and be unsealed, but he pulled out the vial anyway. Expectedly, however, the stopper did not budge.

“No dice,” Milius said hopelessly.

The boy on the floor gave a weak moan, and a bubble of blood grew from the corner of his mouth and burst.

“He needs help now,” Sirius said. “Something — the pain, at least —” He pointed Vulcatrix’s blade towards the boy on the floor; Frederick made a sudden movement, but Shakil seized him around the shoulders and shook his head.

Sirius stooped, took hold of Cole's arm with a surprising gentleness, and placed his palm against the blade. Once again, bright red lines began to spread from the point of contact, along the blade, towards the ruby, which glowed again. Milius heard a sharp intake of breath and turned to see Frederick, his eyes wide, his mouth a comical O, staring at the scene unfolding before him.

Slowly, steadily, Cole’s breathing grew easier, then he slumped back, his eyelids drooping.

“What did you do to him?” Frederick demanded, staring from his friend to Vulcatrix.

“Took away his pain,” Sirius said shortly. “It won't help with the wound but it should make transporting him easier. Help me with him, will you?” he added to Shakil. Both of them seized him, hoisted him into the air, and then laid him on top of Aleia’s head.

“Get on,” Sirius, who had settled himself on top of Verdona, said to Frederick, who retrieved his knife and hurried up behind Shakil at once, steadying his friend. Tearing his gaze from the massive, doglike creature on the ground ahead of him, Milius joined Sirius.

They arrived at the Cave a few minutes later, and Milius received a slight surprise to see that Lumeus was waiting beside Vrydius at the entrance. Calder had returned.

The dragons set down and Vrydius, interpreting the situation correctly, blew a cloud of green wind over to them. They laid Cole on top of it and moved swiftly beside him as the cloud began to soar into the Cave, quite of its own accord. Inside, they saw Ariana and Hestia seated around a table, Calder, Aaron, Demus, and Basil all standing around them, looking remarkably unperturbed by the sight of the bleeding man drifting towards them.

Without speaking, Calder pulled a small vial of golden fluid from the table and swept over to the cloud, then tipped the contents into Cole’s half-open mouth. A second later, the bruises over his skin began to fade, and the wound, Milius was sure, though he could not see it under the blood, closed up. Cole gave a great, shuddering gasp and then lay still, apparently fast asleep.

“Well, I'm afraid that was the last of our stock,” Calder said serenely, depositing the empty vial back onto the table. “Do you think you can manage with regular medicinal methods?” he said to Frederick, who still looked awed.

“What — oh!” His eyes had found a trail of claw marks on his arm. Fortunately, they did not seem to be very deep, but droplets of blood were still dribbling from the gouges. “Yes, I — I think I can manage.”

“Excellent,” Calder said briskly. “Now, Hestia has told us your reason for being in the forest. You may stay at the Dragoon Cave as long as you need to, so that you may heal completely."

Behind him, Aaron made a low, impatient noise, but he did not protest.

“In the meantime,” Calder went on, as though he had heard nothing, “I am sure our Knights will be glad to take you on a tour of our humble abode.”