Duat Diaries

Disclaimer: Digimon does not belong to me. This fic is set in Lord Archive's Diaries Universe and is written with permission.

Chapter Nine

Homestead

The bone dry sand crunched underneath her padded feet. She could feel its blistering heat through the soles of her shoes. It was best to just keep moving. So hot. It had been surprisingly windless this day. Yesterday had seen them in a big sandstorm lasting well into the night, but now the sand had ample opportunity to bake underneath the sweltering sun. And it had.

A print had been left behind in the sand in front of her, the first of a trail Nephthys had long searched for and no longer expected to find. The beast had started off hiding his trail when he had been near their home, but had stopped in the mistaken belief that the desert would do the remainder of the work for him. Alas, the desert had faltered, and Nephthys had not; though with the gruelling heat it was a challenge not to head back. As it stood, she was the only one of the Chosen still out, day after day.

A wind was starting to pick up though, before long it would change the face of the sands and rocks, erasing her find for all time. Nephthys crouched above the print. She brought a gloved hand, of the same wan white material as the loose fitting robes covering her body, towards it. It was best to leave as little skin exposed to the sun as possible.

She fingered the paw print, its outline, centre, and the depressions of the claws. Lean and far apart, a predator on four legs, and unlike before it was not alone. Three of them had been here, wishing to hide their comings and goings. That didn't make for a good impression on her.

She rose, seeing the sun already starting to dip lower. The days moved quickly indeed. Having found what she came for Nephthys knew she had no more business being out. Following the tracks further was foolhardy, certainly while by herself and with a wind picking up. Even so she felt at peace alone in the desert, a feeling of belonging.

In peace it was easy to lose your guard, unless you had something to keep focused on. For her it was a lion's face coming for her in her dreams. When it happened, which fortunately was getting longer in between, she woke up in a sweat. Last time was, what, two, three, days ago? She reckoned it was something in that vein.

Counting herself lucky she turned, leaving the print to be swallowed up by the sand. Nephthys set a harsh pace for herself in returning to the shelter.

Her pace was not harsh enough. The outer wave of the sandstorm overtook Nephthys on the last stretch. It struck her back so suddenly she stumbled, managing only in the last moment not to fall. Bent over she continued, chastising herself for waiting so long to return.

Just when she thought the storm was getting the best of her she broke through, coming into an area of calm. Walls of sand moved on both sides of the lull. Below her feet the ground had shifted to gravel and now to full stone. Now she could finally see what she had felt. She stood at the precipice of a great hole. It was easy a hundred metres in diameter, with walls that dropped sharply.

Had the sandstorm not veered around the crater she would have fallen over the edge and not known until it was too late to stop herself. What power kept this particular depression sheltered Nephthys didn't know, nor did their digimon friends.

Directly below, constructed partly into the rock wall, was a stocky building. It was a nondescript structure, like most of the houses in Burner, only bigger. It was made from weathered sandstone. Or sandstone that had weathered elsewhere as there was no breeze within the pit, ever.

There was enough room for them all. They had water coming up from a well and a storehouse of foodstuffs. Though the latter would run out sooner rather than later for now it was home. Standing up there the sight warmed her heart.

Brushing sand off her robes she took the winding steps down, following them in a half-circle along the walls to the bottom until reaching the far end from the house. The shade was a welcome relief.

"Nephthys!" Alraumon's happy voice called out while she drew back the hood, freeing her long hair with a shake. Perhaps Eboni had the right of it, wearing it short, but she couldn't bring herself to cut hers. "You're back, you're finally back." Her happy tone turned into one of reproach. "Where were you? What were you thinking going out alone?"

Nephthys waited for her partner to rush over from where she had been sitting, at a small distance from Hesire and Skelamon. The two boys looked over briefly before being once again invested in their activities. From what she could see they were drawing a mixture of hieroglyphics and digicode in a pile of sand they had brushed together. None of the others were outside.

"You'd shrivel up if you came," Nephthys said, taking her partner in a long hug. "And I know what I'm doing out there. Believe me, there's nothing to worry about."

"I know," Alraumon said. "So, you didn't find anything?"

Nephthys stiffened momentarily. Alraumon drew back. Some might think that when she held herself back it was because of dimness, but there was nothing dim in Nephthys' shy partner. With but a momentary hesitation on Nephthys' part her partner knew what was going on. Alraumon sighed. "You did find something."

"Tracks," Nephthys said. "They were here again last night. Don't worry, they're gone now."

She didn't say it would only be until nightfall, but suspected Alraumon knew that as well as she did.

Alraumon took her hand. "Come inside."

Hesire looked away from Nephthys and Alraumon, a frown marring his features. He hadn't known she was out there still. Alraumon had been here all afternoon, so he had assumed her partner had been as well. No, truth be told he hadn't thought about Alraumon's presence at all. Scholarly pursuits didn't wait for anyone. And he and Skelamon were learning a lot of each other.

He should pay more attention not to lose time like that again. This world was dangerous, something which he had not forgotten. She shouldn't be out there alone even if she knew best what was out there. None of them should go unless the need was high, and that he didn't see.

When he looked away Hesire quickly drew another sign in the sand, and then two more, drawing the hieroglyphics from his mind. Skelamon watched, and mimicked the signs to get a feel for them. What had they been discussing? Oh yes. "Bast was a solar deity, and goddess of war. Feline, she was often depicted as a woman with a lion's head. She's also called Bastet, or Ubasti."

Now Skelamon took his turn, drawing a symbol in the sand with a desiccated finger. Not digicode, at least not completely, but a clear pictograph of a sun and a cat. "The marking above the Temple of Life, led by High Priestess Bastemon," Skelamon said, "doesn't quite conform to any of your signs for Bast."

"The same way it didn't fit with Anubimon."

Skelamon nodded. "But the remaining similarities cannot be denied. Solar goddess, temple of life, Bastet and Bastemon, it's amazing. Yet, goddess of war, now that I don't see – she celebrates life, though some of her followers can be a tad wild. Cats, it's in their nature."

"Perhaps she just hasn't grown into that role yet. Or it's denied her here. All death aspects are under Anubimon's dominion, and war lies with the Phoenix Guard. With war and death not in her portfolio she only has the sun and the life flowing out of it. Bastet was also seen as the goddess of ointments and viewed as the wife of Anubis when he became god of embalming."

Skelamon shook his head, and an ominous rambling ensued. It hadn't taken Hesire long to grow used to his partner's odd body, but he could see how it might be hard on others. "Anubimon and Bastemon don't have such a relationship."

"Are you sure? There are always layers upon layers. Feigned disinterest, open malice, or hidden passions? The old stories are full of those."

But Skelamon shook his head. On his skull visage he had a look that he was utterly certain such a thing was ludicrous. "There is no evidence of such; they are, indeed, disinterested in each other and openly disdainful of each other's followers. It's said they haven't spoken face to face in years; their temples are separated from each other by the great river. Aside from their ranks, they share nothing except both being sworn companions to Pharaohmon. They were there when he defeated the Tyrant of the Deep Sand, it is so said."

"Another mysterious being of which I known little," Hesire said, bringing a hand to his chin. "Who was he? What did he look like?"

"A great evil that had to be defeated. That's all we know. Perhaps more is known in the Temples, and surely the High Priests know. We speak of him only by title, his name forgotten lest he be brought back – or so is the fear," Skelamon answered.

"We should ask them," Hesire mused out loud. Skelamon looked affronted, but relented quickly. What knowledge those ancient beings possessed was hard to imagine and for the two of them the greatest lure of all. "You can't tell me you don't want to know? There is a being of evil, Apep, who was destroyed time and again by the sun god Ra. Is there a similar connection with this Tyrant and Pharaohmon?"

Questions aplenty, and already their surroundings had stopped to matter. If there were tangible connections, perhaps they could delve into a hint of what was to come.

Though Apep was defeated, he rose again every night for Ra to battle. Was this Tyrant returning to lay claim to the land? Was that why they were here? If it was, if they did what was expected of them, could they return home? The others would like that, a small part of him thought. But that was in the future still. First, they needed answers and he was the one to figure those out.

The wonders of a modern kitchen was theirs, were not the refrigerator glaringly hot and the area above the stoves near freezing. The tap didn't pour water, but soap, and hadn't that been a nasty surprise. For everyone actually, as V-mon had been the one to discover that particular feature.

She hadn't liked his expression then and neither, after the fact, had the others. The insufferable blue lizard had suffered for it; Leormon hadn't been amused by having her mouth doused in soap. Consequently he was banned from the kitchen.

Now, though it had taken some time to adjust, Eboni was relatively sure she got the hang of the place. There was a pan of water boiling in the fridge, a stone tray – as light as pumice – with vegetables sitting next to it.

"Sethos, get me more water," Eboni said.

Sethos and Ahmose were sitting by the one small table in the kitchen. She'd almost thrown it out to save what space there was. The younger boy looked up. "What do you need more water for?"

"The sprouts are dirty, and I want them cleaned before boiling them. I'm making a proper meal here. And get me some of those brown sticks for seasoning."

Sethos grouched, but they were all rotating kitchen duty. Today was his turn helping out and she wasn't letting him slack off at the table. She had seen Ahmose letting him off when he was cooking.

It had come as a surprise that Ahmose knew how to cook and quite well at that. He was the only one besides her. Nephthys was good with a fire, but Eboni pulled her nose up at trying scorpion kebab. Fortunately there were no scorpions, but then, what were those things Nephthys had made for them? Best not to think about it.

"Yes, ma'am," Sethos said. His tone was almost like he was going to salute next, and she scowled even though he did nothing untoward. She tried to hold her temper back, she really did. Lately she even thought she did quite well, given the circumstances.

"Aren't you a bit too strict?" Ahmose asked.

Eboni crossed her arms and cocked her head. Typical of him, to see things directly opposite. "Aren't you a bit too lax?"

"Maybe you're right," Ahmose admitted, which surprised her. Her face showed that surprise openly. "But I feel bad keeping him around when I work. He doesn't like sitting still, never has."

"You've known him before coming here," Eboni said. She smiled wryly. "Did he live near you?"

"He doesn't actually," Ahmose said, looking far off. "I met him when I was working; he often hung around the busy streets."

"A street urchin," Eboni concluded. It was sad, but not everyone had a home to go back to.

"That's what I thought, but his family is actually pretty well off," Ahmose said.

"Then what's he doing on the streets?"

Ahmose shrugged. "He doesn't like staying in one place, I guess. I've asked, but I've never gotten much out of him about what he does or where he goes when he's not around me. I only know he's not home much."

"He lacks discipline then," Eboni said, then winced. "I sound like my mother. Can you believe it?"

"I'm sure your mom is a nice person," Ahmose said. She noticed he spoke carefully, as if he wanted to avoid a conflict. As if she was the reason they often argued – she wasn't the one who didn't make sense.

"She is," Eboni said. "But I don't want to be like her, I don't want to be a mom. And, surprise, that's what I'm becoming. A homemaker, everyone's substitute mom."

She waved her arms animatedly, indicating the kitchen in which she spent so much time.

"I think you'd make a good mom," Ahmose said. He was sincere, she realized. That just made her more annoyed.

Eboni pinned him down with a glare. "You think I want this? Coming here I wanted to live the adventure. A whole new world to explore and sights to see, I felt free, for the first time in my life. "

Ahmose shook his head. "This adventure is a mess; you shouldn't want it so much."

"And why shouldn't I? You think this kitchen is any better, trying to make sure the house is cleaned, making sure all of you do what you have to do, while all you do is act on whatever you want!" Eboni shouted.

"And you're doing a terrific job," Ahmose said, and he was still sincere.

That was the last straw, she could take sarcasm, but this was too much. He thought this was the right thing to do, if she let that continue pretty soon this would be all she did. "And you think that's a compliment? I want to be out there!"

Now Ahmose got up from his seat, glaring. "There's nothing out there but sand and rock and digimon who want to kill us."

"No, there has to be more. Just beyond the horizon." Her stance dared him to disagree.

Ahmose cocked his head to the side. "I think I hear Sethos calling. I'll help him out with the well, the winch has been jamming."

Nephthys and Alraumon shared a bemused glance when Ahmose rushed past them, Plotmon hot on his trail.

Someone yawned. "When did you get back?"

"Just now Leormon," Nephthys answered. The fiery cat was lying in the living room, just outside the kitchen, "What's going on here?"

Leormon grinned lazily. "The usual, mommy and daddy are arguing again."

"Ah."

Leormon looked over her shoulder, to the kitchen behind her, and then beckoned Nephthys to come closer. She whispered, "Next time you go out, perhaps you can take us with you. Just for a bit."

"Sure," Nephthys said. Satisfied Leormon put her head back on her paws, drowsing.

Nephthys put her head inside the kitchen. "I'm back; I'm going to lie down for a bit."

"Yeah, yeah sure. Find anything new out there?" There was a hopeful look in Eboni's eyes. Leormon wasn't kidding when she said Eboni wanted to get out of the day to day. If what she found out there was any indication Eboni might get her wish for excitement soon enough.

"No," Nephthys said. "Nothing new."

"Okay," Eboni said, trying not to sound disappointed. She did a passing job at it. "I'll call you when dinner's ready."

Nephthys stepped back out of the house, looking up at the sky filled with sand. Seeing the storm's fury she was doubly glad she only suffered the periphery of its power. Turning left outside the door she followed the line of the building, rounding its corner to come into the shade of the rock face.

Ahmose and Sethos were there, getting water up from the well, but she didn't stop to chat. The winch was sticking, and the two of them were completely caught up in getting a bucket up from below.

The stairs were, for some reason, on the outside of the building. While ending on the second floor the stairs started a little ways from the house. Going up the stairs cradled the well in the nook between the stairs and the house.

A curtain hung in the door frame at the top of the steps, unmoving despite the tempest of sand raging above. She pushed it aside, looked up as she always did, and continued. She wasn't back in the house yet, behind the curtain was a narrow passage between the rock wall and the house. It was open to the sky above. Dark stone on one side, lighter sandstone on the other, but the darker stone was cut as smooth as the sandstone.

If she went all the way through she'd find an open balcony, directly above the storehouse. Halfway though there was a door to the inside. Nephthys took it, coming into a small hallway with one door to the left and one to the right. She took the left one, passing by yet another drab curtain.

Behind it was a rather austere room, much like the rest of the house. It had everything they needed though. A closet and some shelves were cut into the sandstone walls, and three beds were lined up opposite the closet. They only used two as this was the girls' room. Their partners slept in the same beds, which Nephthys didn't mind at all. Having Alraumon around was calming.

Her partner followed behind, going straight for their bed. Nephthys started to strip out of her robes until she wore just her normal dress. The closet was next to useless, just an empty space with nothing to hang anything on, so she put her folded survival wear on one of the shelves. A similar package lay on the shelf next to it. Fashioned from the cloth Flybeemon had been kind enough to give them the robes helped a lot when going out during the day.

She smiled as she remembered the process of making them. They had learned a lot about each other that day. That she knew how they should look, that Ahmose was pretty good with needle and thread, that Eboni had the patience of a fruit fly for tasks like that – even though she wasn't half bad when she truly set her mind to it – and that Hesire and Sethos were next to useless.

They couldn't cook either, as they had discovered on a later night.

"What are you smiling about?" Alraumon asked.

"Memories, some happy ones for a change."

All in all there was nothing really odd for a room of a desert dwelling in another world, except for one more item. Completely incongruous, a PC sat on a corner desk. It didn't work and the novelty of it had worn off with that discovery. She looked at it now though, had there been a glare that shouldn't have been?

Shaking her head Nephthys put her head down. A short rest before dinner, her last thoughts before closing her eyes.

Someone had just entered the room, thinking Nephthys asleep. But she was a light sleeper, even before the Digital World. A feeling like a cold hand wrapping around her heart made her roll off the bed, reaching for her digivice and Alraumon. Her partner, sleeping right next to her, was thrown roughly off the bed as Nephthys grabbed hold of her. With one quick roll she had brought the bed between them and the intruder. The plant squeaked in panic, dropping on her head.

"No, wait, it's just me," Sethos said, holding up his hands half in a warding gesture and half placating. He'd come alone. "I didn't mean to frighten you."

"Why are you here, this is the girls' room," Alraumon said. The floor was hard enough to knock her mood right over. Stepping around the bed she started shooing him off.

"I really need to talk to you," Sethos said. He wasn't letting Alraumon push him out the room.

Nephthys straightened her dress. "About what?"

She could guess at what Sethos meant and she wasn't disappointed when he spoke. "About what's out there."

Still she sought to be evasive. Sometimes, no, better make that all the time, it seemed Sethos and V-mon lacked caution. To survive in a harsh environment you had to be patient. "Out there?"

Sethos stepped closer, ignoring Alraumon. The plant girl put her hands on her hips, scowling up at him.

"Yes, you know what I mean," Sethos said. "We are still being hunted; we can't assume we're not. But instead of increasing the distance or do something to turn the tide, we're staying put, right here, where everyone can find us. I need your help."

"Mine?" Nephthys said hesitantly.

"Think about it. You're the only one who's going out there. When have the others? Eboni gets cagey here, but it's horrible out there so she stays anyway. Ahmose wants to find a way home, but he and Plotmon want us all to be safe too and this place is safe. Hesire might go, when he and Skelamon decide their useless talk is actually useless, but that will take a while. And by then I think it's going to be too late. If we're to mean something or find a way home, we have to leave this place. We have to."

Nephthys shook her head. "But what can I do?"

"They won't listen to me, but they will to you. You're the very reason we made it this far. If you say we have to leave they'll believe you."

"I- I can't. Just let me rest some more, Sethos. It was tiring out there." She started to sit back down on the bed, hoping he would take it as a sign to leave.

He didn't, stepping past Alraumon completely now. He stood right in front of her bed, looking very intense. She shifted uncomfortably. Sethos spoke, "You've been going out longer every day. What is it you're trying to find? Did those tracks return? That's it, isn't it?"

She stiffened, and slowly looked him in the face. She thought about it, and while she didn't care much for the intensity of his desires to get them moving again she understood the point he was trying to make. What he failed to understand was how easily the desert could kill. Without just cause they shouldn't just go out there. That was why she was so reluctant to mention the tracks she found. They didn't realize how fortunate they were to have found this place when they did.

Nephthys let out a brief sigh. Sethos would remember those tracks. "I did, and more this time. I was hoping they would leave."

"But they haven't," Sethos said, a note of triumph in his voice.

She shook her head. "They come every night."

"We don't know if they are really after us," Alraumon spoke up.

"You don't really believe that, do you?" Sethos said wryly. "You can't be that naïve."

"Please don't speak to Alraumon that way," Nephthys said, suddenly forceful.

"Right, again, sorry. I'll leave you now." He turned abruptly, disappearing back in the hallway dividing the two rooms. He had reached a decision; she could see it in his eyes and the set of his shoulders.

"Sethos wait, don't do anything rash," Nephthys called out.

"Trust me," he called back.

Nephthys sank back down on the bed, only to return to a sitting position when Alraumon kept looking at the door. Her expression, Nephthys could now see, was troubled. She went to her.

"What is it?" Nephthys said, patting Alraumon's head gently.

"If you find a way home," Alraumon started hesitantly after a few seconds. "You will leave me."

Nephthys hugged her partner.

The storm lasted until after dinner, changing the landscape with it, everything but their hole in the ground. Nephthys hadn't mentioned their talk, and, probably to her surprise, neither had he.

Waiting in a corner of the living room, leaning against the wall, Sethos watched his apparently carefree friends. At times he really questioned just how carefree they were, but this house of safety was genuinely dulling their senses. He was to blame as well, he could've been a more active proponent for leaving – not that it would've worked – but he took it slow as well. That was about to change, he had a really bad feeling about staying.

They were preparing for the night, Ahmose lighting the hearth with a fire of source unknown. There, from a cabinet against the back wall, Hesire took a heavy chest and brought it close to the hearth, its warmth, and light. The temperature was dropping already, even though the night was still young.

Eboni came out of the kitchen, carrying a plate with some leftovers. She saw him standing alone.

"Come on sourpuss," she said. Eboni was in high spirits again. "We're starting."

"In a minute," Sethos said. "I want to breathe some fresh air."

She shrugged, as much as she could with her hands full. Sethos stepped away and in moments he was outside. He didn't want them to see his face right now. Troubled, ecstatic, he showed none of these things. It was his game face that earned distrust. And they'd be right, for he was up to something. They would not appreciate what he was about to do, indeed, what he had to do.

V-mon came out behind him. There was a wide-eyed look of concern on his face, a dead give away something was wrong. Sethos listened to the sounds inside, but they seemed normal.

"Are you sure we should do this. I'm all for a prank, but, this…"

"We have to," Sethos said. "Trust me."

"If you say so," V-mon said.

"I say so. Now, the tracks we found days ago came from the north. Nephthys didn't say, but I don't think that has changed. Find them, deliver a warning that they should stay away. Really make it convincing, but don't put yourself at risk." Sethos pointed his digivice at V-mon.

A warning would not be heeded by his friends. The beasts, whatever they were, would come. With his partner's eye witness report of the enemy he'd have no trouble convincing them to leave. It was for their own good.

Sethos fell silent, watching his partner's white glistening scales in the light leaking out from inside the house. This would be the second time he sent out his partner out alone. "Go, let's do it."

When he returned inside, after seeing Quetzalmon off, he saw Nephthys looking at him. You didn't listen to my warning; her eyes seemed to be saying. If she spoke now she could ruin everything.

"Where's V-mon?" Leormon asked.

"Out, I wanted him to fly around and see what's out there," Sethos said, not looking at Nephthys, or the frown he knew would be on her face. He hoped the play of light and shadow from the hearth masked that frown. This was not the time for explanations. "So, how large a hand will we take this night?"

Hesire opened the chest, revealing a large collection of small triangular tiles – each easily fitted in the palm of a hand. "Seven. The resonance between tiles and the need for convergence, as well as chance, seems most apt with that number for each participant."

For some reason he never called them players, and watched the stones laid like a hawk. As Sethos thought of this everyone sat down, to participate.

Quetzalmon rode the air currents of the cool night, revelling in this gift of flight. He wasn't as bothered by the cold in this form; instead the caress of the wind along his scales was a soothing presence. Free of sand – which got absolutely everywhere – and of restrictions it was a most freeing feeling. He hardly got a chance to enjoy it, but this search, for whatever was out there in the dark, gave him plenty of time to do just that.

Being out here meant missing the game, and any chances to mess with the stones. It was becoming harder and harder to do so unnoticed, which was part of the appeal he supposed. The game freaked him out though. Certain configurations of the tiles, as they were laid, made the markings glow.

He read the words 'black as night, pale is the cast of its' once as well as something quite literally a threat to his life; the bite of death in the cold night, wind against fangs.

Hesire had just smiled faintly then, and he was struck silent by it. Skelamon had chuckled, or his bones had simply rambled. He was a little less eager after that, even though Sethos had shrugged it off when he told him.

No one else had even seemed to notice. There had been no continuation of those phrases, at least not that night. Most glowing glyphs made no sense either. Perhaps he ought to ask Skelamon about it, but then, he didn't really subscribe to Skelamon's ideas of predicting the future – especially not with a game.

And he would continue to tell himself that.

Still, he was out tonight looking for something that could very well promise death. There was an odd shape ahead on the sea of sand. Quetzalmon folded his wings and dropped, opening them again when he was only a metre above ground. Sailing the low current of air he saw it for the rock it was, and lifted again. Just a false alarm.

He was beginning to think it would be a very long night, and one he might just cut off early. As liberating as flying was it was becoming monotonous. But then he heard a low howl somewhere ahead. Something else was on the prowl this night. Something with fangs.

Sethos couldn't put anything down, so he reached for the pile of tiles – turned so their blank side was facing up - to take one more stone for his growing collection. Turning it over he suppressed a sigh. Yet again he had drawn another dud he could do nothing with, until another player placed a new stone down he could work with. The markings on one edge looked promising, matching with those on the free side of one of the connected tiles on the floor, but they were reversed. His bad luck was holding for the night.

Leormon put one down, then Eboni took one from the unclaimed pile. Same with Ahmose and Plotmon. Sethos sighed; he'd have to draw another one if this went on.

"Last stone," Hesire declared as he placed the tile down. The two markings on one side glowed, as did the ones on the matching tile. Even more lit up and Hesire gave a satisfied hum. They didn't know why the tiles did that. They didn't do it all the time either. Now, as per their rules, Hesire only had a single stone left. When he got this far he hadn't lost yet. On the whole he had more wins than losses.

Suspicion gnawed at Sethos. "You aren't cheating are you?"

Hesire gave him only a calm regard, and the lifting of a single eyebrow – a most infuriating gesture.

"My partner doesn't cheat," Skelamon objected.

"How can one cheat, in this game of chance?" Hesire asked. Oh, that settled it. No one who spoke like that was on the up and up.

Sethos growled. "It is more than luck guiding your hands, or you are by far the luckiest bastard ever born."

"Language," Eboni admonished. Ahmose closed his mouth; he had been a moment behind her in voicing his own admonition.

"I don't cheat. The stones simply want to be placed," Hesire said

"What do you mean by that?" Eboni asked.

"There's something tangible about them, or haven't you felt it?" Hesire started, leaning forward. "The markings are digicode and, like hieroglyphics, each has a meaning. Put together that meaning expands."

"And what does that mean for the game?" Ahmose asked.

"He figured out a cheat," Sethos said.

"No, not a cheat," Hesire said, standing by his point. From the faces of the others no one was buying it. "But every stone placed down creates a reaction with the others. The ones still unclaimed, the ones in your hand. You just have to be observant."

"And when were you going to tell us about this?" Eboni glowered. She turned on Skelamon. "And I suppose you know of this too?"

"Well…"

Hesire spoke up. "When I was completely sure of how it works, I was going to tell you. It's not full proof, at least not yet. And your actions were all, more or less, driven by chance, creating interesting anomalies in the patterns. It's really all quite interesting. And you know, I haven't won every game."

Leormon sniggered. "We've been watching the wrong lizard all this time."

There were three of them, loping on four spindly legs, spittle dripping from their maws. Sleek and red furred and with legs wrapped in leather bands, the three were obvious predators, heading in the direction of home. Travelling merchants sometimes told of these desert raiders, these Fangmon.

I was sent to find these beasts, Quetzalmon thought. They didn't look like much, but Sethos had made his wishes clear, so a warning it would be. Had they been quiet he might have missed them. Ill luck, for them.

Quetzalmon dropped, calling upon his innate power. He felt no wind resistance, the winds he summoned directed all that away. He was almost upon the lead runner, still undetected by the lupine creatures, when he drew his wings back. In a heartbeat his descent stopped. A fist of wind continued, following the line laid out by his tail, to slam into the Fangmon's back.

With a startled yelp the beast sank through his legs, forced to hug the sand. He wasn't going to get up immediately. Surprised by the sudden fall the other two went right by the lead before they realized anything had happened. When they stopped to turn, Quetzalmon head-butted another, ascending again quickly while the second one slumped in a daze.

The third Fangmon opened his maw, firing a blast of dark energy in the air. Quetzalmon dodged, drawing a grey field of energy around his wings.

"Fossil Wave," he called out, and wave after wave of grey energy resonated down. The third Fangmon leapt away from it, and then opened his maw again.

Quetzalmon was ready for another blast, but instead Fangmon howled, and was answered. Not from one place, but at least five, all of them still a while off. The howling blended together, chilling Quetzalmon were the cold air had failed.

With a swipe of his tail he sent out a gust of wind, knocking the howler prone. While the three were slow in collecting themselves Quetzalmon flew away, as fast as he could.

His head down, hunched over a new hand of tiles, Sethos looked as surprised as the others when his digivice beeped. Smiling sheepishly, he stood up. "I'll be outside for a bit."

Without waiting for an answer, or questions he didn't want to answer just yet, he rushed outside. Quetzalmon was coming over the rise, glowing and decreasing in size until he dropped on the ground as V-mon, breathing heavily.

"V-mon, what happened?" Sethos said, running to his partner's position.

"I found three, and took them on. No problem, but then there were these howls. I think I've set them off. They're coming, Fangmon, beasts, a lot, a whole awful lot. And there was something more, something powerful. Did you know? What kind of warning was I to deliver?" He was babbling, and Sethos motioned for him to be quiet.

Footsteps, the others were coming to see what was happening. Sethos shushed V-mon and turned, standing between his partner and their friends.

"Sethos, can you explain what's going on?" Ahmose asked.

"I can, and I can tell you now we're in trouble. Every day Nephthys has been going out, and finding tracks of things coming in the night." Sethos said. Nephthys looked uncomfortable under the attention.

"Wasn't that only that one time?" Eboni said. She turned to the other girl. Nephthys held her eyes downcast. Sorry Nephthys, Sethos thought, but I need you to be the centre of attention right now.

"No," Nephthys said softly.

"I wanted to know what was stalking us, so I sent V-mon out to patrol. And it's a good thing I did," Sethos said, keeping up his momentum. "He found a large pack of beasts, and they are coming this way."

"Were they provoked?" Ahmose asked. V-mon gulped.

Sethos glowered. "Provoked? V-mon was just attacked!"

"I know you Sethos," Ahmose said.

"Do you know me for a liar?" Sethos said, holding his back straight and looking Ahmose in the eyes. Yes, Ahmose knew he had a tendency to scoff over little things as rationales when he thought something had to be done.

"Not that we can prove," Eboni interjected. She looked surprised when both Sethos and Ahmose levelled a glare at her.

"The provocation did not come from our side. Come on, they've been sizing us up for days. I only wish we had the chance to provoke them, perhaps even stop them in one strike. V-mon's lucky to have gotten back." Sethos said. "We have to leave, now."

"We can defend this place," Ahmose said.

"Doubtful," Hesire interjected. He seemed to be all there for a change, not thinking about his stupid ancient puzzles, but looking at the here and now and the future. If Hesire was like this, Sethos could use him.

"We're boxed in and they have the high ground," Skelamon supplied.

"Exactly what I've been saying," Sethos said.

"If we leave we'll be in the open, at least here there is shelter, as well as food and water," Plotmon said.

"We'd have a head start," Leormon said.

Eboni took a step to Nephthys; the girl stood shivering in her dress. "Nephthys, do you think we can make it out there?"

Without the robes lying in her room the night was bone chilling. Sethos felt pumped, able to ignore the chill. While Eboni rubbed the other girl's arms, to bring some heat in them, he implored her with his eyes.

"I think so," she said. "It's risky, but so is staying."

"We'd run out of food eventually. If we pack what we have now and quickly we can march the whole night and stay ahead of the beasts V-mon saw," Hesire said.

Ahmose shook his head. "I don't like it."

"Neither do I. I'd rather leave at a time of our choosing, but we'd have to leave eventually. Might as well be now," Hesire said.

"The trip here nearly killed us," Eboni said.

"And it'll get more dangerous. We'd have to go south to avoid them. These beasts might be the desert raiders I've heard about in Burner. They make their territory to the north. To the south there are villages and the Temple of Life but we'd have to pass through, or walk around, the great Desolation to reach it," Plotmon said.

"Where we head we can discuss on the road. We have to hurry," Sethos said. He found it hard to keep from smiling as they agreed. One day they'd thank him for this, though if V-mon and Nephthys kept their mouths shut they'd never need to know.

With the moon shining brightly in a starlit sky bestial shapes materialized one by one over the rise, poised over the edge and looking down into the pit. They had the place firmly surrounded, with eyes that would see any undue movements below.

Sleek coyote forms and more burly wolves raced down the steps, unopposed by anything from the compound. Once below they sniffed and approached the building warily. One went inside, then two. Others climbed to the second floor, entering there as well.

The circle howled, a sound of respect and a sound of warning. Walking on two legs, the night breeze ruffled his worn pants, the pack's alpha leapt over the edge, disdainful of the steps. He landed with bent knees, and rose just as fast as he had dropped.

One of the Fangmon exited the house, whispering to a Garurumon. It was the wolf who turned to him. "There's no one inside."

"They can't have gone far," Were Garurumon said, showing his teeth. "Find them, hound them to exhaustion. No prey escapes the Pack."