Natron was startled out of her concentration by Netahiln coming home. Normally, she wouldn't be startled by something like that, because she knew when Netahiln was coming home, and she expected it each time. With two and a half months of the same routine behind them-- even given the unpredictable nature of some of Netahiln's employment circumstances, she still let Natron know her schedule as soon as she knew it-- Natron wasn't taken off-guard by her comings and goings anymore.

This time, though, she was. Netahiln wasn't supposed to be home for another six hours. She'd been supposed to meet her bond, Kalaia, for a little while and then go down to the planet for her legitimate job as electrician and repair-dragon. Natron liked Kalaia, but didn't go with Netahiln to see her very often; it was a personal thing for the dragoness, and Natron didn't like going out much, anyway. It wasted precious time that could be much better spent doing other things.

At least she'd finally convinced Netahiln, after several weeks of the dragoness simmering angrily at her lack of "helping", that she was doing something worthwhile with her time. First she'd told her who among the "shadies" in the lower commercial levels she'd had dealings with that morning, even though Netahiln had been alone when she met with them. Then she teleported from one side of the room to the other, landing perched precariously on the arm of Netahiln's single couch-- and it was metal with cushions on it, not actually stuffed, so it was a very tricky landing. Then she slid down to the floor, spirit first and paws a few seconds later. For the grand finale, she set Netahiln's tail on fire and laughed at her surprise when she put it out. After that, Netahiln didn't bother her about what she did during the day, except to growl now and then that she'd better be useful once Habithi came back from the Twisted Fate, since she was eating so much.

Of course, at the time, that was all Natron could do. She'd learned how to teleport almost immediately because it had seemed necessary, just in case Netahiln needed her or she needed to be somewhere that Netahiln wasn't inclined to take her. It had helped to experience her mother's teleport, taking her to Netahiln's now-familiar-- and now clean-- apartment, and to take lessons with her telepathy, which felt somehow connected to the transportation power. She'd been spirit-walking since before she'd hatched, in order to find where and to whom she was drawn for her life's work and then to learn as much about that situation as possible, so extensions of that were fairly simple to master-- though admittedly, she hadn't tried a lot of them. The fire control she'd worked on a little, just so she had something showy to use to impress Netahiln, but that wasn't what she spent so long trying to meditate on and pick apart. That particular skill wasn't ready yet, and she was running out of time to get it ready.

Too much to do, too little time. Both Natron and Netahiln thought Habithi would be back after his second theurge on the Fate. He was essentially wasting time up there, with nothing to do but plot and plan, and no way to put those plans into motion or even test to see if they were possible. Three whole months of that and he'd be very ready to come back, even if he didn't collect anyone at all from the second theurge. And Netahiln was fairly sure he hadn't come back at all, in between, too: she kept checking, whenever she thought about it. Which was fairly regularly. None of her contacts had seen him, either.

But there was only two more weeks until that three months was up and he would come back, armed with an omniscient dragon, quite likely a multi-headed gryphon, and his own impressive suite of powers and intellect. Natron didn't have much more time to get her own powers to listen to her and do what she told them to. Sure, her spirit-walking would be useful to keep an eye on things, but there were other powers-- more useful powers-- that were much harder to figure out.

So it was a little frustrating to have her medidation on one of those powers so suddenly interrupted by Netahiln coming home far too early. The dragoness simply materialized out of one of the shadows right next to Natron, startling the kitten so much that she flared up, very nearly burning a hole in the upholstery of the couch, and then promptly fell off the couch in an attempt to avoid that very accident. That only made things worse. Bad enough to waste time, bad enough to change plans, bad enough to break routine... but she had to scare her, too!

"Netahiln!" she growled. "What do you think you're--"

The dragoness fixed her with a very black glare, and she clamped her mouth shut, frowning at her. Netahiln stalked past her and further into the apartment.

::Netahiln, are you all right?:: Natron tried again, peering after her, concerned now instead of angry and back to her usual telepathy. Whether Netahiln appreciated the gesture, Natron had no idea, but she did it anyway. It felt better.

::None of your business.::

Natron frowned again and trotted after the much larger beast. ::It's my business if you come home in a bloody mood and knock me off the couch because of it.::

::I didn't touch you; you fell.::

Well, true, but.... ::Still your fault. Come on, out with it. What happened?::

As if in answer, Netahiln closed her bedroom door in Natron's face. Natron glared at it for a minute before trying one more time. ::Netahiln. Please? I want to be partners, but how are we going to do that if we don't share anything?::

Through the door, Netahiln answered bitterly, ::This from little miss mysterious, who thinks that a baby is proof against a balespawn and an omniscient yet won't tell me why she thinks so.::

Well, that was true, too.... ::It's just not ready yet,:: she said, a little stung and a little guilty. ::I wanted to surprise you, too.::

There was an audible snort from the other side of the door, where Natron could sense Netahiln had sat, her back against the door and wings splayed out. She knew Netahiln's head signature pretty well, by now, and could pinpoint her even through a door. To her surprise, though, she also answered: ::Kalaia had a chance to change herself back today.::

That was probably the last thing Natron had expected to hear. She stared at the door in surprise. ::How is that possible?:: she asked, confused.

::Something little miss mysterious doesn't know?:: Netahiln mocked, but there wasn't any fire in it. ::The new strain of yautjadragon from the Abstract Destiny are designed to combat balespawn and heal the damage they can cause.::

:: ... oh.:: Really, what else was there to say? ::Well, isn't that good?::

Netahiln laughed, this time without any humor at all. ::She turned them down.:: Now Natron really stared. She'd gotten the impression that Kalaia hated what she looked like now, because of the looks she got and how awkward and unusual she was. Netahiln went on. ::Ugly and his little yellow brat came to cure her, because the little yellow brat wanted someone to practice his abilities on. And she said... she said there was nothing wrong with her.::

::Ugly?:: Natron repeated blankly.

::Yautjadragon I met before you barged into my life. He bonded one of the new yautjas who can do the anti-corruption thing. He's ugly, so I call him that. Would be a kind of inside joke, if he didn't think I was scum of the earth.::

Well, that made sense, and it sounded like the kind of thing Netahiln would do, too. ::So Kalaia wants to stay how she is?::

::She said, and I quote, "It's too late to go back, so I'm going to learn to live with it."::

If Natron didn't know better, she'd say Netahiln sounded like she was going to cry. And really, she didn't know better. Netahiln liked to play tough-- Netahiln was tough; Natron liked that about her-- but that didn't mean she wasn't still a person. Just because Natron had never seen her really upset didn't mean she didn't get upset. But that also didn't mean Natron had any idea what to do about it. ::I'm sorry, Netahiln,:: she sent through the door, awkwardly, one paw on the faux wood.

::Yeah, well.:: There was a little sniff from Netahiln's side, but her mind-voice went brusque again. ::Not much to be done about it. But I do think I can bother Ugly some more, at least.::

Natron gave the door, and Netahiln on the other side of it, and narrow look. ::Bother him?:: she asked suspiciously.

Netahiln chuckled, then: an almost nasty sort of sound. ::His little whelp wants some corruption to look at... I can give him some corruption to look at. Yeah... I think I'll do that. Ugly will shit himself.::

While Netahiln, apparently cheered by the idea of making a yautjadragon pull his dredlocks out, chuckled to herself, Natron sighed. Well, at least she wasn't liable to cry anymore, but whatever Netahiln had in mind for the "yellow whelp", it probably didn't bode well.

Chapter Thirteen

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