Cairo

"Naven, just sign this . . . I need clearance to use a police portal to Floating Atoll. The standard portal is monitored too closely." I sighed. "Hyksos is always up to no good, but I can't continue to let him go unchecked. Not after finding that icon."

He signed the document with a tinge of worry in his eyes. "Your trial's tommorow, Mistress. If you're not back in twenty-four hours when the trial starts, you'll forfeit the case. Besides, your civilian's outfit is a little too flashy for what I think you have in mind . . ."

"Thanks for reminding me. I need to duck behind your changing curtain for a moment." I walked behind the screen of wax paper, pulling the outfit from my wand's inventory and beginning to change into it. "If it takes me more than twenty-four hours to deal with this issue, I'll return anyway — besides the trial, It'll require massive backup to deal with followers and the like."

"And Hyksos himself?" Naven looked up at the changing screen. I had just finished switching back into my 'business' outfit— the standard flaxen leotard with white leggings, like I wore the day before. I added over the outfit a white cloak that covered all but my eyes— a typical male worshipper's outfit. Assuming Hyksos didn't perform mind checks at a distance, it would keep me from being spotted too soon.

"Hyksos is not invulnerable. When I destroyed Sakhmet, I tried to kill Hyksos but found it all too difficult. So I cursed him instead — destroying his feathery wings and forcing him to suffer as long as the religion lived without a temple.  Cursing him as I did should have prevented him from making icons."

"Why didn't you just kill him with 'Spectral— MMPH!" He spoke, and I silenced him.

"It's an emotion-triggered spell. I had use of it earlier that night and it slipped before I ran into Hyksos." I spoke as I stood in front of the wall. "Portal me, please."

A flash of portal later, and the two of us were shivering in the brisk snow winds of Floating Atoll's Temple Island. We were downwind of the ruins, but I couldn't see Hyksos near them. Probably tending to some issue in Tep or Habi. "That's odd . . . he's usually hovering around the temple."

Naven looked at the peculiar ring of snow on the ground. "What's with that ring?"

I ran up to it, hoping to jump it. "Maybe some worshipper's idea of a trick. OW!" I hit the air over the ring hard, and slid down, making an imprint in the snow ring. I snarled. "Icon Shield. He's trying to . . . protect . . .  Naven, do you see that?"

"Yeah... the temple looked destroyed from where we landed and it doesn't now." He walked ten feet back from the ring. "Now it looks destroyed again."

I stepped back too, and he was right. "Hyksos rebuilt the temple. THAT'S how he's gained enough power to make icons again!" I walked past the illusion, and tried to throw a fireball past the shield. It bounced off and made a hole in the snow straight through to the tundra. I tried throwing another fireball underneath the snow, but to no effect — the shield apparently didn't stop there, either. "How am I supposed to destroy this thing if I can't get past it?!"

"You said something about a sacrifice earlier, right?" Naven leaned up against the shield. "Where they take a dragon and kill it in some way so that Hyksos would have a surge of power?"

I nodded slowly. "At this stage, a sacrifice like that would break the curse completely.Go on . . ."

"A dragon is obviously never a Sakhi, so there must be a way for the shield to allow Tahlaists in for sacrifices or conversions. You'll also notice that the snow ring is outside the shield, which means it can't find a way in either. But there's still some snow inside the shield."

"You think the shield is dropped so that a Tahlaist could enter?" I threw another fireball at the shield. "That means I'll have to wait for them to drop it, and it'll be a rather small window of time. We'd either have to know about it or set a trap for it." I pressed my hand on the shield. "Let's go back to your office."

"CEASE AND DESIST!" We both froze from the shock of being discovered. "That's it, soldier, quit messing around with that worshipper. Kneel in the snow, hands in the air where I can see 'em." Naven did as the voice ordered. I looked back to see the disciple of Anubis glaring at him, mounted on a horse— a black horse, not Hyksos. His feathery 'wings' were just pretty wooden planks grafted to the top pair of his real wings, with handholds for steering. His ring-hoops were atached to his belt, as his hands were busy with the horse's reins. The eyes in his belly— a sure sign of a disciple, whose eyes were removed from his head and implanted elsewhere— glared at Naven. The original eye sockets were covered by a gauzy piece of fabric attached to his black nenes headress with green lining. The disciple's portal began to close up; if his was just closing, than Naven's portal was long gone. He tossed me a rope. "Worshipper, secure his hands. We'll ride back to the outpost and let the infidel walk."

I blinked. Apparently, Hyksos was the only mind-reader on the islands; the disciple thought I was a real worshipper. After tying Naven's wrists together, I noticed a small line of hemp on one end of the rope. I used the cord to tie Naven's thumbs together, remembering Sakhmet himself doing the same thing to me, even with roughly three hundred years to cloud the memory. 

I carefully mounted the stallion, sitting behind the disciple. If I thought I could get away with stabbing him and running, I would have. But the opprotunity was too tempting— This may have been what I was waiting for. It could bring the icon shield down for long enough for me to destroy the temple.

The stallion whinnied and broke into a gallop. Naven, shocked, fell to the ground, his arms stretched in front of him and his body being dragged behind. The disciple broke into a laugh as he looked back and saw this. "What's wrong, soldier— I thought you blacks were good at running!"

Spyro

"Welcome to Spectrum Raceway Community Airport. Due to the recent events at Temple Raceway, all flights to that airport have been delayed until further notice." The speaker near our dock blared. "Affected passengers may go to the Food Court on Concourse A for a free chicken sandwich, compliments of FireFarmer's Foods. You must show a valid ticket stub to recieve your meal."

I stepped out of the boat and scratched my neck. "Couldn't we just buy a new set of tickets to Iron Prisma from here?"

Nehi shook her head. "Bronze Prisma flights are only available from Temple Raceway. Better off just trying to do it alone from here, anyway— cheaper fuel. She walked over to the 'Crystal Chasm' Portal. "I think you two will like this place  . . . One of the few places in Prisma Tors with a Dragon majority. Remember, the boat needs a stainless steel 'A' spring from this place. Don't leave there without it  . . ."

We flew into the portal, which led us to an unusual spot— the bottom of the chasm. I walked around it for a a few moments before a dog jumped down into our little hole of the chasm. Some type of poodle, although I couldn't remember which. It had a blue crystal which shone on its collar.

"Nice doggie..." Reena cooed to the dog, which promptly pointed its nose and yipped at us. It barked until a rope ladder unfurled itself next to us.

"Good Tepi! Now show those dragons how you climb a rope ladder!" I heard Scioness Djari's voice from the top of the pit in the chasm. "Reena! I didn't expect you to be out here! Come up, too!"

Reena climbed up the ladder first, and I followed. It took a little longer to get to the top than I expected— Or maybe it just seemed that way because Reena was climbing the ladder up ahead of me. I hadn't cared very much yesterday when she accidently flashed me at Stormy Terrace, but now . . . even with her pants covering up what I saw before, my eyes were fixed on that spot as I climbed up the ladder.

Djari shook Reena's hand by the time I reached the plateau they were on, and I'd snapped out of my fixation for the time being. The dog grinned at me, still yipping away. I also noticed a faerie in a green jumpsuit standing behind her.

"[Oh-h-h, Tepi, you found me a little friend!]" The faerie captain, Candace, smirked at me with a cruel glint in her eye. "[Saw you in the news earlier today . . . Prima, isn't it? Quite the bodyguard this morning; never had to take a bullet in my experience with Djari.]" She spoke, shaking my hand heartily. "[You healed up quick. Rather lucky, especially for a rookie.]"

I glared at her, stepping past the dog. She tried to shock me, but I barely flinched. I didn't know how much Candace knew, but I wasn't about to speak in front of her all the same. Djari obviously hadn't informed her about me. Sparx spoke up, instead. "A rookie? You care to call HIM a rookie? He's defeated more nasties and no-goods than you've ever heard of!"

"[Care to prove that?]"

"Candace?" Djari spoke up. "Don't harass Reena's bodyguard. They're just here to get some supplies to repair their boat." She turned back to Djari. "I can empathize, certainly . . . I sent a repairman out to fix my boat, too. After this morning's incident, the temple portals were shut off, so if I plan to get back to the Monarchial Temple by tommorow at all, then I need to leave here tonight."

"[We've been stuck here for quite a few hours so far. The sad thing is that this place is one of the most peaceful spots in the Tors. Absolutely boring.]" She grinned as she walked to catch up with Djari. "[Maybe with you here, we can do something interesting . . .]"

I watched her carefully as Sparx flew up to her. "What's your idea of interesting?"

"[You'll see . . .]"

Naven

I whimpered as the horse slowed down to a halt in front of a small granite slab just outside of the icon shield. I was flecked in snow from being dragged about, and my hands felt like they'd been cut off— they may as well have, considering the fact that my wrists were badly bruised from the rope. I sat up in the snow and tried to stand up. The disciple dismounted from the horse, tying it to a pole. 

Cairo fell from the horse with a plop, and I winced. Riding on a horse was not something that most Tahlaists did, even one as old as Cairo. Riding a dragon, certainly, but not a horse. Dragons had individual scales and spines for handholds, not to mention that the wings were very helpful. A horse on the other hand had no suck luxury. The disciple lifted Cairo from the ground, and then blinked, his waist-high eyes looking up and down the cloak.

"You're a woman. Women don't worship!" The disciple glared at the wet side of Cairo's cloak that hugged her hip. Her face was still hidden, so she walked away from him about two yards before the disciple leapt on her. "You think you're too proud to wear your normal clothes, wench? You think you're better than me? The worshipper's cloak is for men only!" He yanked at it, pulling it off in one yank.

I ran over to the disciple and sat on him while the cloak covered his face. Cairo pulled out a silvered dagger and cut away at the ropes, freeing my hands again. "So much for going undetected. That slab must contain a way to drop the shield— I'll go investigate." She walked over to the slab, and stood in the middle of it. The shield rippled with something. Cairo walked up to where the shield was, and walked past the ring of snow. Once she did that, the shield came back up. She put a hand on the shield from the inside.

"Can't get out now, Mistress?" I asked her.

"No, I can't. Clever way to work the shield— although I don't know if this is better or worse. My guess is that anything can stand on the rock, and then be able to temporarily walk through the shield. Not sure if only Tahlaists have to do this, or if everyone has to, or even if Hyksos is the only one who can go through the shield at will." She looked at the ring of snow again. "Getting in was easy enough, but where's the slab on this side to get out?"

I stood up. "I don't think there's supposed to be a—"

"Look out!" Cairo screamed at me, and I ducked. The disciple shoved me aside and ran through the shield, taking Cairo by surprise. He pulled out a pistol and aimed it at her.

"So . . . you tried to trick me into giving you an advantage. I'll give you something . . ." A deafening blast later, and Cairo was on the ground, grabbing her leg. The disciple never even bothered to shoot at me, focusing entirely on her. "There's more bullets in this pistol if I have to use them, Silver-Dagger."

"No— do you think I've never heard a pistol before? That sounded like your last bullet." She hissed, trying to force the first bloody bullet out of her skin. Both the disciple and I winced at the remark; given the amount of vibration a gun makes when fired, it was entirely possible, although extremely unlikely to hear the number of bullets.  

The disciple took a step towards her with a tense grip on the trigger. "You're bluffing."

"Hand me the pistol and I'll prove it." She held her hand out, and the disciple took two steps back. "If you won't believe me, try taking another shot. Better yet, take two." 

A smirk grew on the disciple's face at the thought. "It's your funeral, Silver-Dagger." 

Click. Click.

Cairo smirked. "See? It's a useless weapon. It did quite a good job, disciple,but not good enough."

The disciple sneered, then put the pistol back into its holster and pulled out his two casting rings. "I don't need conventional weapondry to destroy you, Silver-Dagger." I watched as the rings began to spin around his wrists. The left began to glow silver, and right one glowed bronze. Between the two rings, a rope shot out from thin air and wrapped one end of itself around her neck, leashing her. "Being merely what you are gives me all the weapondry I need . . ."

I'm bolting before he deicides to turn on me! I though to myself and ran, using the cloak to hide myself until I was out of the disciple's sight. I cast a portal for myself and dove through, landing on the floor of my office. I sighed and leaned over to the intercom.

"Madame Yom?" I spoke into the intercom, hoping my secretary was at her desk for once— running around like a page boy didn't make for easy access. She was there this time, however, as she chirped back with her usual series of beeps from transferring the communication to her headset. "Madame, please bring the accused Spyro Thelonious to a holding cell for interrogation."

"I need to check for an opening . . . you're in luck. Questioning Room 3 is available. Should I have the room outfitted for any of your specialties?" She spoke as I heard the distant click of a keyboard."I recommend Level 5 Dragon Restraints if you bring the Priestess with you."

I gulped. "She is not going to participate in this session — Level 2 should be enough."

"With or without saline IV?" She asked dully. 

I thought about it for a moment, but decided that a groggy suspect was not going to do me much good. "Without."

"Intersting combination; much lighter than your usual. I think this is a mistake, but he's your suspect . . . ." I could have sworn I heard her bite her lip. "The accused will be ready for you in 15 minutes. I'll also have your lunch sent there for you."

"Much appreciated, Madame Yom. I will be there soon."

Scioness Djari

"Reena, don't tell me he's actually going through with this . . . ." I sighed, leaning against the wrought iron.

She shrugged. "Who needs to tell you that he's going through with this? You'd have to be blind and deaf to miss it."

"[Tah-li-ka-ti!]"  

"Oh, for the love of Tahla, I can't look!" I covered my eyes for an instant, and then decided to look anyway, peeking through my fingers.

Candace dove down from the cliff, and began to hover just before she would have splashed into the mud only a few inches below her. She hovered there, and looked back up at Prima. "[Top that, hotshot. Remember, closest to the mud without touching the mud.]"

Prima stood at the top of the cliff wordlessly, trying not to use his balance and fall any sooner than he wanted to. Why he didn't speak was a smarter reason than I originally gave him credit for: He didn't want Candace to spot him, at any cost. Even if she wasn't as lowly and malicious as Cairo, she was a nuisience nontheless to him; the less said, the better.

"[Jump already! It's not very nice to keep the clients waiting . . .]"

SPLUT!

Reena broke out in laughter at the sight of Spyro's landing. I giggled. "Apparently, there's a loophole in that reasoning." I looked as Prima was trying his hardest not to slip off of Candace's bald head, which was the only thing keeping him out of the mud. He'd landed on Candace and forced her into the mud, which meant he won by default if he could stay on her head. He then glided off of her head and onto dry land, grinning wildly.

Candace snarled as she walked out of the mud. She spent a moment digging the grime out from under her fingernails before wagging one in this face. "[You weren't explained the rules properly; if you had to hover, I would have won.]"

"You're just being a sore sport." Reena walked over to Prima, grinning. holding the spring in a canvas bag. "We should be leaving soon anyway — we need to pick up another spring and a tarp before nightfall if we plan on reaching Iron Prisma ourselves."

"Can't you stay a while longer? The route to the Temple from this point is further than here to Iron Prisma . . . we could drop you off." I tried to offer them an excuse to stay longer. Being just with Candace was maddening, especially since she still hadn't given me a satisfactory explanation why she used a lockbox on me last night."

"[There's not enough room in the boat. The two of us and the repairman are a big enough crew as is.]"  Candace pointed out. I sighed. She was, as usual, right about these sort of things.

"Don't worry, Djari; we'll be fine! I'll see you in a few days, I promise!" Reena waived to me, and then jumped up into the whirlwind, Spyro not too far behind her.

I sighed. Reena had the same responsibiliies as I did, if not more now that she was married; but she also had all the fun.

ShadowSpyro

I whimpered as the soldier tried to spray some Cotrata essence into my mouth. My hands and feet were put in two separate lockboxes as is; I didn't need to be humiliated further with that disgusting oil reducing my flame to nothing.

"C'mon, big fella . . . This doesn't reflect very good on your trial outlook if you try to resist this stuff." The soldier confided in me, almost spraying me in the eyes with it.

I reeled my head back again. "Cotrata tastes worse than boat oil! The only way I'm trying it is if you taste it first."

The soldier held the atomizer of Cotrata up and tried it himself; he looked like he was about to vomit afterward, but managed to eek out a grimace. "See? It's delicious!"

"Horseshit. I'm still not taking it." I snarled at him. "It's quite unnecessary for me."

"Nyah." He stuck his tongue out at me. I did so as well, not seeing the next step— the soldier grabbed it and took advantage to spray the Cotrata in my mouth. He soldier quickly ran out of the room, and I stood there, trying to get the taste of that gunk off of my tongue. 

The door opened and a male hybrid stepped into the room. He was mostly Marian, in full military garb, but I noticed a set of bandages around his wrists— judging from the handiwork, he had applied the bandages himself, and tried hard to hide the bandages as well. He smiled. "Good afternoon, Spyro."

"I don't believe we've met." I spoke to him. "You're not my lawyer, are you?"

"That would be against the rules for me — despite the circumstances of your case, rest assured that Cairo plays by the rules as much as anyone else." He sat down in a nearby chair. "I am Liutenant Naven Teterin.This is independant of your case as far as evidence is considered; I just want to talk. There are some . . . complications."

My heart skipped a beat. "Complications?"

"Yes; Have you ever heard of the Sakhmet Cult?" Naven looked over at me from his seat.

I nodded slowly. "Believed to be connected with the ADC, which is a highly disputed claim; predominately in the Floating Atoll region; lead by a hierarchy of clerics, disciples, and supposedly this creature named Hyksos who was Sakhmet's old pet." I looked at him. "Although having someone's pet as the head of a religion makes it a cult right there . . ."

Naven snickered slightly, but regained his composure. "In all honesty, Spyro, Hyksos does exist; and he's incredibly dangerous. He's also my main concern as his interference may complicate your trial."

"How so?"

"Earlier today sources indicated some unusual activity in the region; Cairo did her own analysis already and discoved that Hyksos is now capable of creating weapons-grade icons. I trust that, as a warrior, you have learned something about icons in the Shadowlands' past . . ." He spoke, and I loudly gulped at the thought. "Well, that answers my question. You obviously know this is a very potent skill to have."

"This is all quite intriguing, Naven, but I fail to see the point." I glanced over at him again, noticing he had a lunch tray next to him. "May I have that slice of roast beef? That Cotrata spray tastes incredibly nasty . . ."

"Why not?" He tossed the slice at me, and I caught it in my mouth, trying to squeeze the juices out."The point is that Cairo went to perform some further investigation into this— I went with her as a precaution. She was captured by a disciple; I was not, although I had my own issues to deal with." He pulled back one sleeve, holding out a bandaged wrist. "Hyksos's power has been greatly underestimated until today; if I didn't see the temple with my own eyes, I wouldn't think it was possible."

I looked up from my muzzle, still holding the now-chewed roast beef in my jaws. I swallowed it. "Temple? You mean the old ruins..."

"Sadly, no." He slumped, his face losing the mirth it had before. "The temple's been rebuilt, and we didn't know that fact until today. He's fully capable of reaching full power and becoming even greater than Sakhmet was — to put it in a way that you'll understand better, it'll make the Raid Before the Pause look like a hatchling's tea party.

"We also have evidence sugessting that a sacrifice may take place later tonight." He added, and I began to cough, my throat now feeling very tight.

I looked up at him again, eyes wide open. "Is he THAT powerful now? Doesn't he realize that any time a sacrifice has even been attempted, the dragons lash out and begin calling for heads to roll? Half the time it's followed by a raid. Not that raids haven't happened for other reasons as well, but all the same . . ."

Naven nodded solemnly. "I'm aware of as much. I know you're already in a cell where you'll probably be the safest from any such attacks, but it concerns me that you have so many connections to all of this. I was hoping you might have some additional information which would help me to prevent a sacrifice."

I shook my head, and then looked up. "I've only seen a few drawings of Hyksos . . . I've always been confused by it. One picture shows this black, maneless horse, and the other one has the same horse, but with odd circular markings and wings. I realise it's not of any value to the case, but I've always wanted to know which one looked like the real Hyksos."

"I'm not sure. For the past three hundred years, he looks like you described in the first picture... after tonight, who knows?" I shrugged. "The second form is his orginal one — the black horse is what Cairo cursed him to be."

"Beyond that, I don't know anything else than what's in the textbooks." I slumped sightly myself, being no real help.

"That's quite all right. I just wanted to brief you and to make sure." Naven looked ovar at me again, tossing me another piece of roast beef. "You're acting very calm and helpful, all things considered. I'd swear you're innocent."

"Why shouldn't I be?" I raised an eyebrow to him. "I already said you have the wrong dragon."

"Just the same, we haven't found anyone matching your description yet. A soldier will be here to escort you back to your cell in a few minutes. Good Day, Spyro." With that, he left, taking his lunch and leaving me only more worried than before.