And still, in an oddly quiet area of the palace, Dorian and Cyan continue their conversation.

All around, the servants hustle and bustle, guards stand at their posts, or patrol their allotted rounds, visitors make their way to meetings and audiences...  And somehow, none of them come through this particular corridor.

The scratching of Cyan's pen on the paper finally ceases, and she stares down at the sketch.  A fox's mad, laughing eyes stare back from a clever face:  brilliant hair, sharp cheekbones, and a devil-may-care grin.  Cyan's own smile returns, and she glances up at Dorian with one eyebrow quirked.  "A good likeness, for the little time I have, do you not think?"

Her sapphire eyes return to the sketch, Berd slowly uncoiling on her shoulder.  For a moment she feels his weight - immesurable years pressing down on her like the mass of the world itself - then the echo of her father focuses his own will upon the picture, enhancing, speeding the process Cyan has begun.

For an instant, the drake is a link between the underflow and the sketch, its forces flowing through him.  He is the lens, twisting its energies as he wills, and the light falls upon the sketch, already aspected to the spiritual reverberation of Jonnee Kay.

A few tens of heartbeats, that's all it takes... well that, and countless eons worth of gathered strength and willpower.  And for an instant, the image seems to blur, and the faint echo of laughter fills the air...

Having said the bulk of what he had wanted to say, and more that he perhaps hadn't planned on saying, Dorian waits in silence for Cyan to complete her task and speak with their old friend.

"Hmmm...yes, it worked," Cyan notes, her topaz eyes a touch wider.  Berd chirrups proudly on her shoulder, promptly pulling himself back in to curl up preparatory to further slumber.  Frowning, Cyan studies the picture again, taps it with a finger; the drake lets out a disgusted grunt and a puff of mist in one breath, the mist floating down to settle on the portrait.

It clears, leaving a card sitting on the next, blank page.

"All in ten minutes," Cyan murmurs, a smile curling her lips.  "A vast improvement over the old method."  She draws her brows together, vexed, and taps the card with a fingernail - it rings like a bell.  "Less artistic than I would normally desire, a mere head-and-shoulders...but needs must, yes?"

Lifting the fully-formed palanquet, she focuses upon the grinning face of her friend.  "Jonnee Kay," the bard whispers aloud, by habit.

"Cyan?  Is that you, Babe?" the face swims into view, grinning like a maniac.  His hair is longer now, dreadlocks hanging to below his collar, and there is an old, fading scar on his left cheek, running from his ear to the corner of his mouth.  Little more than a curved pale line on his tanned features.

"How you doing?"

"Jonnee Kay, as I live and breathe," Cyan laughs.  "You've let your hair grow.  And is that a scar?  Are you becoming...respectable?"  She shakes her head, her ruby eyes alight with mirth.  "You shall never, ever guess where I am, Jonnee...after long last, here we are in Amber!"  Focusing further, she opens the Palanquet's vision to her surroundings - Dorian beside her, the wall, the paintings.  On her shoulder, Berd cracks an eyelid open and smiles a thousand-needle counterpoint to Jonnee's mad-fox grin.

"You are well, I hope?"  Concern edges Cyan's tone for a moment as she surveys the scar, but...it is as the old saying: anything that does not kill Jonnee only makes him stronger.  "Things proceed apace with the britizzi?  I have news - news of the darkest and possibly brightest sort, and a request for your assistance."  She leans forward - quite unnecessary, but it plays to Cyan's bardish sense of the dramatic.

"I believe we hold the key to ending the war."

"Amber.  Cool!  I ought to go back there some time and report in.  Good to see Dorian and Berd again too."

"Yeah, I'm doing good.  And of course I'm respectable now... I'm a general." For a moment his grin slips, as he remembers who he's talking to, and then it returns, as he changes the subject, "The Brintizzi are doing great.  We have those new weapons from the battle at... where was it?  The city that was all one big fortress."  He glances away, then looks back again, "Charyk, that was it."

"The Brints don't like them much, they prefer to get up close and personal, but I have other troops now.  I took a couple of legions on a tour of some nearby places, and got some new recruits.  The army's about twice as big now, and some of the new guys don't mind ranged weapons at all."

A nod at Cyan's mention of a key to ending the war.

"That's good news.  I found the Shaivur, who once fought an invading force of Archons to a standstill, and drove them off their world.  They are seriously good fighters, so we also have a back-up option."

More laughter, bright and delighted.  Spirits help her, but she loves them all, though in very different ways; one finds a love in life, and one can also find a sibling, older or younger.  Aaron, Dorian, James, Jonnee...could there be four more different men, yet all splendid in their own fashion?

Her lips twitch at his use of the tricky word, but Cyan has put the name behind her - it is only a title, nothing more.  "I well congratulate you on your new posting, Jonnee Kay - they could not have found a finer man for the work with the Britizzi."  One eyebrow quirks.  "I suspect they run you ragged, 'slow' as you are."

New weapons from Charyk, a welcome addition.  Britizzi with those armaments would be a deadly force against Archons, mobility combining with ranged attacks capable of damaging and killing the enemy.  And a threat in close, for all that it would take many of the insectoids to defeat one archon.  "A pity you cannot persuade your quicker troops to use the weaponry..."  Cyan shrugs, discarding the thought.  "Well.  To each their own, yes?"

"These Shaivur, Jonnee - how do they appear?  I have other allies in mind, indeed - Prime's Soldiers, who I have mentioned to you in the past, are deadly warriors, even against Archons.  They would be welcome...though difficult to control.  More of a point and shoot army," she muses, then shakes her head.  "Also, there is another matter.  In all of your travels, with the people you have visited, have you heard aught of a different form of Archon?  One of a ring forged of ice, rather than flame?"

Something glitters in her sapphire eyes.  "Have you heard of the scenathi, Jonnee Kay?  Listen well, for I have a story for you, of how we might win this war...."

"The Shaivur look like... " for a moment he struggles for words, and finally settles for something anybody can understand, "They're monsters.  A good ten feet tall, shaped like a man, but broader in the shoulder, and with longer arms.  Their heads are a bit like a lion's, but instead of a mane, they have barbed quills, like a porcupine."

Jonnee listens to the tale of the lost tribe of Archons, and shakes his head slowly, "I can't say I've heard of them.  But one of your old friends is in the area.  I'll ask her, if I see her again before we move on.  Never spoke much to any Archon before, and she's certainly interesting."

"The plan sounds good.  If you need my support, with the army, you'll need to help me though.  This... " he taps at the sleeve of his jacket, where it conceals the tattoo on his upper arm, "... works a lot faster if I'm going to a place that I've been before."

"I'll need you to pull me through a card when you get to the right spot.  Then I'll go and fetch the army."

Cyan nods along with Jonnee's description, though she would not have gone with the idea of 'monsters'.  Between everything she has seen in her travels, yet another creature that looks aggressive is nothing new.  Of course, Jonnee could simply have been using it as slang - 'big, huge things'.

In fact, that seems the more likely conclusion.

"I would be well-pleased with any assistance I might have...."  Her eyebrow cocks.  "One of my old friends?  Pray, say on, Jonnee Kay, for there are a few archons with whom I would have discourse at present."  The more she talks to the man, the more Cyan slips into her old mode of speech - she finds this interesting, and wonders at the reason.  I had little contact with Jonnee as the General, the bard finally surmises, and much...before.

"And I will absolutely bring you through when I find the right place."  Cyan grins.  "In fact, if it will take over a day for you to bring the army, I could always open a gate..."  Berd perks up.  "Ah, and Berd might be able to widen it, allowing more than three through at once.  I suspect it would save on carting around rations, though you would want those for the way home."

Her eyes dull to jade for an instant.  </I>The way home.</I>  Too many will not be going home after this.

"She, and her brother, know you well." Jonnee replies, with a smile, "She calls herself Left.  She says she was on some sort of scouting mission for the Nephelim, and spotted some of my scouts.  She recognised the Brintizzi from the battle at Charyk and looked about until she found the camp."

He laughs, then, "Frightened the guards half to death when she came cruising in over the perimeter, asking very politely to speak to their leader.  She hung about for a couple of hours, and was able to give me some information about troop movements a few day's march from here, so we're in the process of breaking camp and moving away from them."

"She also told me that, if I speak to you, I should tell you that she, and Right, are both intact.  That was the word she used.  Intact.  And then something about his silly obsession with colours is getting worse."

Ah, Left.  Cyan suspected it might be so, but there were a few other archons she knew...in her life before her life before, one might put it.  The gulf is too vast for her to view it any different way, now.  Berd again twists on her shoulder, obviously uncomfortable - she scratches his head and he settles down again.

"I can well imagine...one hopes no undue injuries took place?"  The bard doesn't have too many concerns along that line - Left has always been quite meticulous.  She breathes a sigh of relief at the news of Right, then another, heavier sigh when she hears of his growing obsession.  "He will be the most gaily painted soldier on the battlefield," Cyan complains, shaking her head.  "And if he takes his customary place, I won't need a banner."

A blink, and her eyes lighten to emerald.

"Well, then, Jonnee Kay.  I will tell you what I need for this plan to succeed.  Hearken closely..."

"That should be no problem.  I think." Jonnee confirms, "I'll use the Brints as a core, but only because I know them best.  They can't be scared, and their scales make them harder to hurt.  But I'll pad their numbers out with some of the others - the Shaivur, in particular, have experience of battling Archons.  More important, they have experience of winning against them."

One by one the other requirements of Cyan's plan are discussed, and things start to take shape.

"Spectacular, Jonnee Kay.  Now we need two things - Archon allies and a place to set our feet."  Cyan stares blindly into the distance for a long moment.  "I believe I can provide both of these.  It will not be an easy task, but between myself and Dorian, and any others who choose to join us, we shall manage."  Her lips quirk, a brief expression of ironic mirth.  "All we need from you is...well, an army."

Her sapphire eyes lower.  "I am sorry, Jonnee.  I ask for much, and hinge everything on a desperate gamble I have no proof will succeed."

Berd raises his head, his eyes glittering.  For an instant the air wavers about him as he focuses.

"Everything is a desperate gamble we have no proof will succeed.  We're all making this up as we go along.  Your plan is better than the one I don't have, so I guess yours is the one we go with." Another laugh, and then, "If it fails, what's the worst that can happen?  We all die, and then the Universe gets destroyed.  Compare that to what happens if we don't try something... the Universe gets destroyed, and we all die."

"At the end of the day, it's just a matter of priorities, really."

Her eyes light up as she laughs, and Cyan nods her head, suddenly a young woman again, out on her grand adventure.  "As usual, Jonnee Kay, you have a way of striking the particulars," she admits.  "Indeed!  Better to make the attempt than allow all to fall to ruin...."

Drawing herself together, she focuses on his face.  "So!  I shall leave it to you to gather your allies, and will seek some of my own, and that fabled place to stand.  Somewhere dramatically appropriate, I think...somewhere no innocents may perish."  For a moment she considers Ares' tomb - poetic, but to destroy that land with the conflict, to torch those blue flowers...no, Cyan thinks not.

"Berd will find a place."  She taps the drake on the forehead.  "He always does."

"Is there aught else you wish of me, Jonnee Kay?  News, gossip...I would hug you, were you here," she admits, cocking her head to regard him with her ruby eyes.

"You want me to bring an army to a place out of legend, and stand ready to defend the Universe against an enemy that can't be stopped?  Me... Jonnee Kay, a simple beach punk from Las Angelos, in the Kingdom of Califonia?"

Jonnee shakes his head, before crossing his arms before him.  Twin blades of bone slide out from his wrists, and he grins, momentarily taking on the appearance of a living skull and crossbones.  "Hell, yeah!  What more could I ask for?"

"I'll see you at your fabled place, Babe, and I'll collect my hug then."

The smile flickers back on Cyan's features.  "There is nobody else I would choose above you, Jonnee."  Being the leader here is quite a promotion for him, he probably thinks.  For her, it's just the place he was born to be, and never knew it.

A chilling image he presents, but that is merely another side of the man - Jonnee Kay, mad fox extraordinaire.

"I will most certainly pay the toll," she laughs.  "And we shall be in contact soon.  Possibly through Berd."  The drake puffs a small, scintillating cloud in his annoyance.  Work?  Bah.  "Fare thee well, Jonnee Kay," Cyan whispers, passing a hand over the card, sealing the contact.

Then she closes her eyes for a sigh.

They spring open a moment later, like bright topazes.  "Well and good, then.  It seems I have part of the army I need - if not all of it, but I would have more Archon support to deal with their more esoteric abilities - and Jonnee yet lives.  Good news both, the latter moreso than the former."  The sigh had been relief - for a time, she worried the man had gotten himself in too deeply - Jonnee had been a bit of a 'rush in' sort of person, for the short length of time Cyan had known him.

"And now we only have to pick the place...."

And then Jonnee is gone, at least for the moment, leaving behind promises of support.