"This is NOT amusing." Lady Arianda stood upon the deck of a beautifully wrought galleon. It was night but not impossibly dark, as many white sails whipped in the moonlight. The ship rocked gently in lapping waters while Arianda squinted through the silver midnight to see who else may be on board. Oddly enough, she saw no one, not a single crew member on deck, nor even a watch up top.

Her arms were folded in front of her, partly from consternation and partly to hold together her lace robe. The fabric tried desperately to unfurl from her body and she had nothing but skin and chills beneath it. The Lady began to pace back and forth beside the main mast. She looked up and yelled into the flapping cloth above her, "Do you hear me?! I am not amused!" She didn't know who there might be to hear her, and didn't care at the moment. Had the ship been in port, she might have set fire to it already. However, there was enough feline in her that she had no interest in swimming the churning black waters to get safely away. Even so, she was still tempted.

Her agitated pacing came to a stop so she could scan the invisible horizon. Arianda wondered just how far at sea she might be stranded. Her heavy sigh was cut short as someone suddenly pressed in behind her and caught her hands, binding her with her own crossed arms. He was large and strong, no doubt of that. She kicked and spat curses at him then held still a moment to gather her will. To hell with the swim and to hell with this ship and to double hell with the brigand who held her prisoner at the moment. She'd set fire to him too!

After a moment, Arianda's stillness was quite profound. She was shocked. She was unable to gather any force at all; couldn't even sense energy from which to draw.

A deeply intoned whisper crossed her ear. "The Master requests your company."

This broke her free from the shock. She scoffed at her captor, twisting his word with heavy disdain, "What master?" She pulled again at her hands but was locked back against a hard and powerful set of ribs.

"If you will follow, milady..." At last he released her and stepped aside to gesture politely that he intended to lead the way below deck.

Arianda looked up at him, and then further up at him. He was too tall and too brawny for a physical argument, which is surely why his 'master' sent him to deal with her. On the odd chance, she reached out with her mind again, thinking perhaps the lackey's touch had somehow shorted her power. But once again, she found nothing. Whether it was the ship or this part of the sea or whatever cause, she could not draw the faintest spark. Even within her was a hollow stillness, a very uncomfortable void. So, she followed.

The henchman led her across the deck and down into the ship through a maze of darkened doors and rooms. He had to duck most of the joinery and filled the spaces to such extent that Lady Arianda felt quite claustrophobic. But at last, light spilled around him through a doorway, just as soon as he stepped through and clear of it. Arianda stomped in past him, ready to give a great tongue lashing to whatever imbecile started all of this.

Ultimately, she said nothing, while the lackey left and closed the door behind him. Arianda stood with her steely scowl, fists on her hips, and her white lace robe just barely tied together at the waist. She impatiently tapped one bare foot on the polished wood floor.

The cabin was spacious, taking up this entire end of the ship. Paned windows fanned away on either side of a thick curved rib of wood, presumably the spine of the boat. All the window panels were currently propped open so the salty breeze wisked through the room. Hurricane lanterns hung from various joints in the ceiling, with one strategically placed over the largest piece of furniture in the room - a monstrous four-poster bed. Sheer white netting gathered from the canopy to the posts, but the dressing was otherwise black and shining; yards and yards of smooth black satin.

Lounging in the middle of the bed, propped all too comfortably against shining black pillows, was presumably the henchman's master. Dressed in loose white satin leggings, and shirtless, his skin was phenomenally pale, and his long hair, silky and white. There was in fact very little color to him at all except a blush of lips and piercing blue eyes. Were it not for the fact that he made a shadow on the sheets, Arianda might have assumed him to be a ghost.

The embodied spirit grinned at her, "Welcome, Arianda."

She tilted her head and her glare, then set about taking a more casual pose. She took a moment to resituate her robe, adjusting the tie belt. She relaxed and folded her arms again, but without a lot of the anger she'd had in it earlier. She put on a sweet smile, a much too sweet smile, and spoke every word with extreme control, "Pray tell why you've brought me here and what it is you think you want from me." Her only accent was on the word 'think', and well he should. Energy or no, she would not make it easy.

"Come. Sit. Have some wine. We'll discuss it."

"No, thank you, I'd rather discuss from here."

"Not afraid, are you?"

His words, the exact intonation, in fact the exact voice, chimed in her head. She narrowed her eyes at him and he spoke again, "Come now, you've nothing to fear from me."

Arianda closed her eyes with a swallow. The first voice had unmistakably been the loathed viscount, whom she knew to be dead, and also knew this was not some visitation from him, for the second voice tugged deep within her heart. He spoke Maxwell's first words to her, in Maxwell's voice, with all the concern and compassion he had conveyed at that time. As she tried to work out this ghost man and his tricks, he began to chant. His voice was clear and plaintive. He sang as Aaron and not a soul who ever heard him could have mistaken it.

"Stop it!" she yelled as her eyes flew open. What she saw next made her step backward until she came up against the door.

Bear's voice spoke one willful word, "No" and that word came from Bear's face. It was now Bear who lounged in white trousers upon the black bed. It was Bear's tanned body, his grey eyes, his half grin, and his long black hair, every bit the image of him.

"Stay with me, Arianda." The spectre added, and in that he made an error, for it broke the spell. The Lady recalled these words from Bear, but not from waking life. She recalled them from a dream, albeit a hauntingly vivid dream.

Her wrath exploded in a hasty reach for anything to throw at him. As it turned out, the handiest object was a lantern sitting on a table near the door. She flung it straight at Bear's head, or what passed for Bear. She might not be able to summon fire, but she could damned well make one the ordinary way.

Bear shifted back to the original ghostly image and waved away the hurling lantern. It was not deflected, it simply shimmied in the air then disappeared.

"Morpheus!" Arianda growled and took a running leap over the footboard of the bed. She landed on him and started pounding at his chest, but soon found her wrists caught in his hands. Try as she might, she was helpless to continue the beating he so deserved.

"Ari, Ari... Please..." He began to chide her, then he looked her over. She was deliciously straddled across his lap, robe now draping to either side of her body, bare breasts heaving with her anger. "Actually, this is better than I had planned."

"Bastard!" she hissed.

He clicked his tongue at her, "Now, now, is it nice to disparage my mother?" He sat up with her still on his lap and clasped her wrists together, first with one strong hand, and then manifesting shackles in the other to secure them. He made a great play of this activity, seeing that his hands found reason to brush across her breasts. When the shackles were snapped tightly, he nosed beneath the bend of her arm to lick at one hardened nipple. She growled and wriggled but his strength kept her in place.

( Continued on Pg 2)