"Let's go, then," Luke murmured, slipping after Talbot on his way to the edge of the crowd.  This, he knew, was when everyone would somehow figure out they're there, they've been listening, and now they were leaving.  Perfect time for it, really.  Alternately, a perfect time for betrayal.  But one had to start trusting somewhere.  And speaking of which...

Aaron, where are you?

He'd better not be gadding about with his new sweetheart, Luke decided, or there would be hell to pay.

At that precise moment Aaron is, in fact, gadding about with his new sweetheart.  If one's definition of "gadding about" includes the leading of a sizeable contingent of warriors towards an enemy camp.  He's still some miles away, but he is, at least, going in the right direction...

Luke's supposition that they are about to be discovered, or betrayed, seems groundless.  He and Talbot make it to the edge of the crowd.  Just a small strip of open ground to cross, until they reach the edge of the forest...

And something comes out from the trees, about fifty yards to their left.  A roiling mass of squamous tentacles and foul black smoke, emitting a strange piping cry, underscored by a continual buzzing, like a swarm of angry hornets.  It does not turn in their direction, but pushes into the gathered congregation, who move aside to let it pass, moving on towards the platform and Igronitiandach.

"Stashil!  Messenger of the gods.  You honour us with your presence."

And it occurs to Luke that this might be the creature that had stunned him earlier, on the trail.  Certainly he is developing a most unpleasant headache...

"Now," Luke muttered, "now we have a problem.  And we're leaving.  Immediately."  He focused further on his mental defenses, edging into 'Not Here' territory rather than 'Can't Get In'.  "I think I know what that thing is - on more than one level - and we're not up for taking it on alone.  Let's go."

Carefully keeping up the shrouding overtop of himself and Talbot, Luke continued moving back from the group.  Recon was a good thing, if it didn't get the scouts killed, and sticking around to hear Stashil's announcements seemed to be a good path to the latter.  Besides which....

"I think it's a hunter."  His grin was mirthless and merciless. "Made from their 'General' to kill their 'General'.  And that means it might just be able to find us."

Stashil pauses, and the piping sound drop in pitch.  "There is something... " the terrible creature roars, and its voice is familiar to Luke.  Like Cyan's voice, if Cyan were screaming in pain.

"No... it was here, but is gone.  Has there been a stranger here?"

"Mighty Stashil, the Commander, your servant, has been interrogating a prisoner.  Could it be his presence you sense?"

"His presence?  Unlikely, but possible."  It starts to glide back from the stage, tentacles writhing, and oily black smoke seeping from its skin, "I will speak to the Commander."

Luke and Talbot don't wait to discover if it goes directly to the tent where Talbot had been tortured.  They duck directly into the forest, and don't stop.

"Luke, where are we going?  If your friend comes looking for us, he'll run straight into that thing.  We need to warn him."

"Yes, that would be a hunter," Luke grated out, wincing slightly. "It's probably even more sensitive to me, curse it all."  He slipped into the forest and started to jog.  "We're getting out of here, and fast.  The problem is, those cursed things can supposedly track people even through the Myriad Worlds.  I'm just buying time to think."

The muscles of his jaw tightened.  "They'll be after Aaron as well.  You're right - we need to let him know what's up and heading his way.  He'll be so overjoyed to see a piece of Cyan like that.  Talbot, I think I can take us directly to Aaron, but I have a sneaking suspicion that doing so will draw that beast along.  If that happens, you'll have to run."

He slowed to a stop, looking around.  "Because I don't know if there's a hell of beans you'll be able to do against it, and your people need to know."  His lips twisted into a lopsided smile.  "This could be unpleasant.  Your choice - come with me, or keep running and hope."

With that, Luke began reaching out for Aaron.  He wasn't his father, no indeed, but he had plenty of experience finding these particular people throughout the Myriad Worlds.

And there he is.  Aaron.  Fortunately Luke has a good idea of the direction Aaron would be coming from, and had been able to focus his attention in that direction, and away from Harbonah's hound.  Which could very well be the thing which had struck at his mind earlier.

So now he can feel Aaron's presence, and the enemy is not alerted to his own, at least as far as he knows...

The shriek of rage that rolls across the forest from somewhere behind him might be proof that he's wrong.  Or it just mean that the hound has been unable to find the commander...

"We're moving now!" Luke snapped in the wake of that howl. "Take hold of my hand, Talbot - this will be somewhat difficult, but I can manage."  He thought.  Luke hadn't tried to drag anyone with him through the Underflow like his father did, but believed it well within his capacity.

Self-confidence had never been lacking in the dark man.

Time grew strange.  The world blurred.  And Luke fell away, out of reality for an instant as he shifted, a multitude of burning wings opening around him, a thousand burning eyes on each.

OOC - Transporting Talbot and myself directly to Aaron.  But not right in front of him, as I don't want to get stabbed.

Aaron cocks his head to one side and listens.  There is an odd vibration in the air, like a swarm of bees buzzing quietly, and in harmony.  It buids up for a few seconds, allowing him to trace the source, and turn towards it...

And there is a loud popping sound, as Luke appears about five yards away, with another man clinging to his arm.  The stranger is sweating profusely, and pale of face.  "I... I'd really rather not do that again." he says, and falls to sit on the ground, where he leans to one side and throws up.

Crethe favours Luke with a smile, "The company you're keeping lately seems less... cultured."

"That was less than stellar," Luke muttered, stepping quickly away from Talbot.  "Only for emergencies, Talbot - my apologies for the rough ride.  Normally I do that kind of trip alone.  Your presence caused some unbalance, and we ended up oscillating  between temporal planes."  He shook his hand and for an instant it blurred, leaving visible afterimages, then snapped 'back' into its proper solidity.

"Better."

He cocked an eyebrow at Crethe.  "Whereas yours runs about the same...be nice, he's been through a lot.  Aaron, we have a rather large, ugly problem heading our way.  Specifically our way.  It seems that when Cyan was captured, Harbonah used some of her essence to create hunters - hunters keyed to her, and to us, and supposedly powerful enough to give us serious trouble."

His smile was thin. "That thing that assaulted my mind recently, that was one of them.  I'm fairly sure it can and will track you."

Aaron gives Luke and the stranger a curious look.  "Then we'd probably do best to give it a wide berth.  Is there a reason why your new friend keeps doing that?"

On the ground, Talbot is shifting constantly, his skin flickering from scales, to feathers, to bark, to fur, and back again, while horns and antlers come and go on his brow.

"I'll be all... " he vomits again... "Oh, gods!  I'll be all right.  Just... just not used to his tricks."

"Interesting." Aaron comments, before speaking louder, addressing the troops.  "This is the man we were going to help." he gestures towards Luke.  "Obviously he's managed to get himself out of trouble, so we don't need to save him just now.  So we're heading back to camp, by the fastest route possible."

Talbot clambers to his feet, swaying, "I hope that doesn't mean more of the same."

There is a movement, and Jonnee is standing at Aaron's left shoulder, "Hello Luke.  Long time, no see, buddy."

"He'll be fine," Luke muttered.  "Just...mind your shoes."  Once Aaron turned away and Talbot finished his up-chucking, the dark man reached down and quite easily pulled the shifter to his feet.  "Up you get.  It'll all pass soon."  In truth, he didn't at all know it would, but assumed a shapeshifter merely needed a little positive reinforcement to get his body back under control.

"'Tricks'." Luke snorted.  "I'm not a street-corner magician, Talbot.  But don't worry.  I can't drag Aaron, you, and all of these people together, and besides..."

Enter Puck, blades on-hand.

"...some of them don't need me to be quick."

He eyed the shorter, flame-haired man. "Same to you, Jonnee Kay, though from the lines around your eyes it's been longer your way than mine." He couldn't help but smile; it was easy to see why Cyan liked this man.  "Glad to see you haven't joined Aaron in the Missing Body Parts support group." 

"Oh, I considered it, but then I figureded that the cool factor didn't outweigh the pain.  Besides, there was no way I could catch up with Aaron, so I just got some new ink instead."

Jonnee reaches out a hand and taps Aaron on the shoulder.  "Fastest way back would be my way.  I've been there before, so I can find the path easy enough."

With a bow of the head, Aaron gestures for Jonnee to do it, "Lead away."

The red haired man starts to walk, quick and confident, and the rest hurry to keep up.  At a command from Jonnee, a number of the brintizzi break away, spreading out into the forest, and are soon lost from sight.  "They'll catch up later.  But, for now, they'll make sure we aren't tailed."

The traversal of Arden is fast, and leaves little trace of their passing, considering the number of people involved...

As the returned troops disperse out into the camp, Jonnee calls a meeting, with Aaron, Luke, Crethe and Talbot.  "I'm thinking we should head for Amber, fast as we can.  If this thing Luke talked about can follow us, then I reckon we need to be in the city, if not the palace.  Lots of men about, with pointy bits of metal.  And it gives us a chance to report this new stuff.  What about the rest of you?"

More tattoos...just what Jonnee needed.  Luke grunted in amusement at his quip, and aquiesced with a wave of his hand.  No sense in arguing over who got to do what...

...besides which, this way avoided Talbot ruining his shoes.

He glanced back as the brintizzi left - they moved too quickly to be seen with the naked eye, but Luke's mind could trace their paths.  "If the hunter is following us, Jonnee, it'll tear them to pieces.  They'll die before they even know it's there," he muttered.  An unpleasant thought, but something that needed to be said.

Upon arrival, Jonnee offered a plan.  It sounded...sound, so Luke shrugged his agreement.  "One place isn't as good as any, and that one is  better than most.  Amber it is, though I'm none too sanguine about bantering with Princes and Princesses.  If there's any silliness, I'm gone."
The last thing he wanted was one of them probing his mind.

"I can't guarantee that there'll be no silliness."  Jonnee's expression is all deadly seriousness now, "What I can guarantee is the the princes and princesses of Amber will do anything to keep enemies out of their city.  There are traps in place that can force an invader into just the right place to get itself killed.  They've been there a long time, and nothing ever got past them."

"There'll be an army to back up the traps, and the Royal Family to back up the army.  The city is probably the safest place in the universe right now.  You don't have to come with me, but if you do, I don't think you'll be disappointed."

"That's fine," Luke muttered.  "I'm all for being cautious, and I said I was going, right?  I just don't want anyone rummaging around in my mind without a damn good reason - one I don't plan on giving to them."

He paused, considering his next few words with care before finally speaking. "I...value my freedom.  Mental enslavement and violation isn't an improvement over physical or spiritual."

"But lead on, Jonnee."  An expressive wave followed his request.  "I'll meet with your royalty and do my best to use the right fork at dinner."

A broad grin splits the man's face.  "You don't have to meet anybody.  You can stand at the back and avoid attention if you want.  As I remember it, you're pretty good at that.  There's times I'd swear you weren't in the room, and then I'd turn round to find you standing there, about three feet away."

He looks about, assessing the readiness of his own people.  "Ten minutes, then we go."

It's actually a little closer to fifteen minutes later when the army starts to move out.  A number of brintizzi remain behind, hand picked for something that Jonnee refers to as "being generally badass".  "If they can stop this enemy, that's good.  But their main job is just to slow it down.  Buy us some time."

"Amazing, that," Luke muttered, dusting his clothing with the back of his hand. "Very well, I'm along.  For now."

He glanced at the brintizzi sent to be a rearguard.  Hopefully not a last stand, the lean man pondered.  He'd had enough of those; the memory of leaving three of his best to hold the blasted plains against his Father's Host still ached within.  "They do know when to retreat, don't they?" he muttered, then pursed his lips.

"Of course, it'll be too late for that.  If the hunter comes, it'll just annihilate their minds in short order.  And that'll be that." He flicked his hand as if knocking the ash from a cigarette, and a small trail of smoke hung in the air for an instant, along with a curious, sulphurous scent.

"A waste.  I don't like waste, Jonnee Kay."  It could have been a threat.  Delivered in a dull, tired tone, it wasn't.

Jonnee keeps walking as he talks to Luke, "They have their instructions.  It won't be a waste.  I've told them not to get into a fight.  If they see the enemy, they have to retreat, away from us."

"Took me ages to teach them that whole live to fight another day thing."  And some of them still don't get it.  Their honour gets in the way.

He turns a little to his left, "This way.  Don't worry about the brints.  I picked them myself, and they know how to follow orders.  They won't like it, and I'll have to let them take the lead next time there's a fight, but they will do what I told them."

Then he stops for a moment, claps Luke on the shoulder and smiles at him.

"But thanks for worrying about them."

Luke grimaced again, though he didn't shy away from the shoulder clap - his expression was concern, not distaste.  "You're welcome...thing is, it's their minds I'm worried about.  That bloody thing hit me - hard - from outside of sight, and if it can stretch and break my defenses like that, hell if it can just mind-bomb them.  Granted, I was sweeping around myself, so I might have attracted attention, but it still took a shot at me from quite a distance."

He squinted along their backtrail as they picked up moving again.  "But you're the man in the field.  One thing I did learn in the wars I fought was that once you give the general your information, it's up to him to decide what to do with it.  Second-guessing them just makes things go straight down the toilet that much quicker."

"So lead the way, General Kay.  We're in your hands now."

Jonnee does exactly that, following a trail which winds throu Arden and, sometimes, seems to turn back on itself, which brings questions from Crethe, "Are we lost?"

Certainly the detours seem make little sense - walk past on the left of a tree, then double back, and walk past it again on the right.  But slowly the land rises, and more questions as Crethe realises that the sun is moving backwards across the sky, "What's happening?  A few miles back, the sun stood with scarce an hour until sunset, and now it is noon at the latest."

Aaron does his best to explain.  An explanation which talks of endless worlds with tiny differences between them, minor variations in the length of days, and dawn and dusk occurring at different times.

Jonnee tells him to be quiet.  A scout stands beside the man, more or less human, his skin dyed brown with a compound made of nuts and bark, and with leaves and vines woven into his dark hair.  He says something in a hoarse whisper, and Jonnee translates it.

"We have to cross a clearing, and it looks as if there are enemy troops there.  We can't go around because it'll add days onto the journey.  We need to go right through the middle of the camp.  The good news is, they look human."

The scout whispers something.

"Human enough." Jonnee corrects.

Luke just rolled his eyes at the explanation.  "Can't we just get someone to write it down and pass it around?" he muttered.  He silences himself shortly thereafter, before Jonnee has a chance to do so, and waits for the explanation.

"Is this one of those 'teeth six inches long, sorry, sixteen inches' things?" the dark man grumbled, edging forward.  "How many?  I can check them out, unseen - see if I can lay some form of control over them, long enough for us to get through without issue."

He pursed his lips. "Though, the way our luck runs..."

The scout continues his report, answering Luke's questions while Jonnee thanslates his words.

"He reckons they look human, or human enough that he can't tell the difference, so no long fangs,  There are maybe forty or fifty of them in the clearing, but he says that he's sure there are more nearby, patrolling."

A laugh then, "And he reminds me of my own standing order about not tangling with a group until you know if it's in contact with anybody else."

"Then again, I don't usually have anybody about with the sorts of talents that I know you have to hand.  Give it a go, if you want."

"'In contact with anybody else' is something I can deal with as well," Luke muttered.  "Maybe.  Give me a short time, and I'll see if I can settle things here.  If I don't come back in ten minutes or so..."

His grin was reminiscent of knives.  "Find another route, and I'll see you when I see you."

With that, Luke moved away, slowly and carefully.  His spirit reached out, seeking control of the world about himself.  This close to Amber, it wasn't easy, but it wasn't impossible either; he might not have been his father, but he had never been weak.

And his mind reached out, oh-so-carefully, seeking the thoughts and presences of those ahead, along the track the scout had indicated....

There are minds ahead.  Small ones.  No more than merely human, though with difference.  Something else too, and as Luke closes in on the thoughts it becomes clearer.  Familiar... but also different.  For a moment or three he can't quite put his finger on it, and then...

There is a noise which tells him exactly what is there.  Dogs.  Or something close enough.  A baying sound, like that of hounds, but not exactly the same.  Then shouting, and the dogs fall silent.

As he draws nearer, the camp takes shape in his mind's eye.  More or less human occupants, and their guard dogs.  They don't seem particularly dangerous.  No shelters, so probably a very temporary camp - likely just a place where they stopped for a break and something to eat as they moved from one place to another.

Helpful so far, assuming there was nothing hiding amongst the people.  Luke paused a moment, considering his situation.  The dogs, the dogs he could handle.  Easily.  That amount of people?  Shielding the group behind him?  He wasn't Berd (not yet, a small voice considered) - so probably not.

On the other hand, there might be something he could do to make the problem take a nap.

Focusing harder, he reached out with his spirit for a more in-depth delving into these intruders.  From where did they hail?  And, more importantly, how much weight did they hold in reality?  Could he influence them?

OOC - checking just that - can Luke influence these creatures?