Netahiln supposed it should have surprised her when Natron insisted she come along to meet the pair of yautjadragons, and it did, a little bit-- the brat had hardly left the apartment, and she was so hung up on getting her practice and learning in before Habithi got back-- but for the most part she took it in stride. It seemed an odd sort of parallel: Ugly with his little yellow whelp, she with her own. Hers, she thought, was rather the better side of the equation, being both on fire and a minor deity in her own right, but she wasn't going to scoff at someone both immune to and able to heal the corruption of the balespawn.

At the very least, meeting him and his whelp kept Netahiln's mind off other things, things that deterred her from her purpose and made up that purpose: her bonds. It would be much more fun to pick at Ugly and find out what made his new bond tick. Maybe she could give him a good scare, while she was at it; he'd probably never seen things like some of what she saw on a regular basis. Even the small corruptions Habithi and his quieter sister had left behind might send him fleeing for the hills; Netahiln didn't know.

There was, however, a small part of her that thought the experience might be good for the whelp, teach him things he probably ought to know if he was going to be fighting bad guys. And for Ugly, too, who needed to learn how to relax and let someone else take over now and then. It was an unworthy thought, really, as she had no business at all trying to give yautjadragons, of all creatures, learning experiences. After all, it was entirely likely that one or both of them would turn on her-- wasn't she nasty, cruel, petty, and evil? Didn't she make deals with drug lords and gang leaders? Didn't she steal and swear and fight brawls? Hadn't she brought one of the dreaded balespawn on board? Yautjadragons never saw more than that. Ugly's reaction when he realized who she was proved that. No, it would be much better to just torment them both needlessly and take what amusement she could, if they even showed up.

But there was that small part of her, still, that whispered having a pair of yautjadragons on her side would be useful, no matter how annoying they might be in the meantime. They could, in fact, be more than useful. That small part said that she ought to keep on the pair's good side-- or even just the whelp's good side, since keeping on Ugly's good side would probably be impossible-- as much because they could further her own goals as to save her own skin. It was possible that they would overlook the lesser evil in favor of the greater one that she fought, as well, if she helped them.

The smallest part of her, even more unworthy than any of the rest, said that she just wanted to do something that made a difference. The prospect of Habithi's return scared her, no matter how much she wanted to deny it-- no matter how much she did deny it, to herself and to Natron-- and each day that brought the date closer made her feel more and more trapped, more and more like everything she did was futile, pointless, worthless. At least giving someone a better chance against her horrible bond would be something, even if it was a yautjadragon brat who would as soon turn on his teacher as on his teacher's sworn enemy.

So here she was, sitting in the bar she'd sat in almost three months before, drinking the bartender's stock-- virgin this time, since he knew who she was and how old she was, to her annoyance-- waiting for a pair of dragons. Natron sat at her feet, staring fixedly at the door as if she was more interested in meeting the yautjadragons than Netahiln herself was. But then, she was quite a bit more earnest than Netahiln was, and less practiced at being casual. Less practiced at not caring.

And then, there he was. Several minutes late, and looking reluctant, but still there. It was more than Netahiln had honestly expected. He even had the whelp with him. Hell, he was even shielded: she couldn't pick up any stray thoughts buzzing around his head, this time. The bartender, apparently remembering him, too, unobtrusively moved farther towards the other end of the counter.

::Hello, Ugly,:: she told him, looking at him sidelong without turning her head more than half an inch his direction.

He growled at her. Though Netahiln had learned Ugly's real name ages ago, Netahiln thought it was more fun to keep on calling him by the nickname she'd first known him by, when he'd started off much more amiably. Hell, when she'd started off far more amiably. She'd bought the jerk a drink.

::I have a name,:: he told her stiffly.

::Yeah? Well, names are over-rated. Hello, whelp.::

The speckled yellow hatchling-- whose name she also knew, but preferred not to use, as well, just for the sake of consistency-- stared up at her, half-hiding behind his bigger bond's big foot. He ducked his head politely at being addressed, not smiling but not frowning, either.

::His name,:: Ugly said even more stiffly, ::is--::

::Yes, yes, I know,:: Netahiln cut him off, annoyed. ::I'm not stupid; I looked it up before inviting him here. But I told you, names are over-rated. Feel free to call me whatever you want, whelp. Big daddy here called me Rude when he first met me.::

The whelp-- Raesun was his name; "whelp" didn't suit him as much as Ugly suited his bond or Brat suited Natron-- looked in surprise between Ugly and Netahiln. ::Really?::

::Among other things,:: Netahiln agreed, giving Ugly another sideways look. He growled again, more defensive and off-balance than actually angry, but then Natron came out from behind Netahiln's tail and he finally realized that there was a little green-flamed something down there. Natron was, after all, tiny, even compared to little Raesun, and easy to overlook even if she did glow.

Predictably, Ugly jumped, bared his teeth and spread his clawed face wide, and put a hand to the round throwing blade he carried. ::Balespawn!:: he hollered, and Netahiln sighed. The bartender just ducked behind the bar again. ::Trickery!::

::I am not,:: Natron said indignantly. ::Yuck.::

::Godling, yes,:: Netahiln put in smugly. ::Balespawn, thank god, no. She needs to learn as much as your whelp does, so she's coming, too.::

Ugly scowled at the fiery kitten, tense and uncertain, but he did finally nod, curtly. ::I shall have to take your word.::

God, that must have been hard to say.

::Trust is that hard, is it?:: Netahiln said, amused, and Ugly looked both angry and embarrassed.

::You could just touch me,:: Natron added, sounding a little bit sulky, and her flames flickered in somewhat ominous counter-point. ::Kalaia did, and it didn't hurt her any more.::

That startled him. ::You have met Kalaia?::

::Well, sure,:: Natron shrugged. ::She's the reason Netahiln does everything, so I thought it was important. I like her.::

Netahiln aimed a kick at the brat. ::Shut up.::

She missed, of course, as Natron neatly side-stepped, leaving behind a brief after-image of spirit and flame that made her fur stand briefly on end where she touched it. Shaking herself, Netahiln grumbled, ::Nosy brat.:: Natron had no reply, so she continued, ignoring the yautjadragons' staring, ::So are we going, or not, whelp?::

::Yes,:: Raesun said, looking a little less apprehensive and a little more eager.

::I'm coming, too,:: Ugly began, but Netahiln cut him off again with a click of teeth.

::No, you're not. I don't care if that suit thing makes you invisible, you'll still have scent and you'll still make noise and you'll still be there. It's bad enough having your whelp along without having you hovering, too.::

Ugly bristled at her, but she just gave him a hard, cool look, and he subsided-- mutinously, but he still subsided.

::I'll be careful,:: Raesun told him quietly, though not quietly enough for Netahiln to miss it, and patted his bond's thigh affectionately. It was kind of cute, though Netahiln would have been willing to bet that Raesun was the only one allowed to touch the big yautjadragon like that.

Ugly heaved a sigh, reaching down to pat the kid on the head in turn. ::Call me if you need me.::

Raesun nodded, and looked expectantly up at Netahiln. God, for once, a quiet one! ::Come on, then, whelp,:: she told him, sliding off her chair and heading for the door. She brushed up against Ugly's side quite intentionally, and was amused to see him sidle aside and shake himself as if disgusted by the contact. ::There's a few minor corruptions out there I haven't bothered to destroy yet. I bet you could do 'em good.::

The yautjadragon kid trotted eagerly after her. Natron, looking oddly sour, gave Ugly a glare before bounding to catch up. She passed Raesun, grabbed onto Netahiln's tail, and scrambled up onto her back. From there, she dug her little paws into her mane and her fire danced harmlessly across her fur, and Netahiln didn't bother shaking her off. It was odd, the brat making such a possessive sort of move, but also... amusing. She did think that Natron was making a point to look down at Raesun from her perch.

Ha. If Natron was going to be jealous, Netahiln thought she might die laughing.

Chapter Fourteen

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