That day passed in an agony of worry and waiting. When night fell she attempted to go to sleep, but could not. She got up and paced back and forth in Belak’s workshop. So she was the one that answered the knock on the door in the early hours before the dawn, though she could hear Belak’s footsteps coming behind her. Standing outside were a trio of dwarves. All three looked solemn, and two of them carried a stretcher between them. One white-feathered wing trailed off of it onto the ground. “We’re sorry, ma’am,” said one of the dwarves, and they carried their burden inside the courtyard area and gently set it down.

Then they left. Belak started to say something, then stopped. The silence was thick enough to cut. Flame Song sat down next to Aidan’s still form. He was covered in soot as if he’d been in a fire, his feathers were blackened, and his skin looked red and burned. Flame Song gently brushed his hair off of his forehead. It always was getting in his eyes, she thought. She felt disconnected from reality. Tears seeped down her cheeks, but her grief seemed unreal. She wondered how he had died. Surely he hadn’t died from the fire itself. Ever since Spectoria where he had drunk in a touch of her own firecat nature along with her blood, he had been resistant to flame. Not to the same extent as her, but certainly he didn’t look burned enough to have died of it. It must be smoke inhalation, she thought absently, aware that the thought was somewhat morbid. Then it was as if the grief hit her all at once. She bent over the still form and sobbed. Belak quietly turned and left her alone. With her face buried in his chest she could smell the scorched feather smell. Strangely his body was still warm, despite the intense chill of the night air. That fact sunk slowly into her mind where all at once it clicked with one other fact, the dead dwarven scouts killed by vampires. She suddenly sat up straight. She shifted into her firecat form and sniffed Aidan over. The scorched feather smell almost drowned it out, but the familiar scent of a vampire was unmistakable. Then she glanced up at the sky. It was already starting to lighten with the coming dawn.

“Belak! Come back here!”

The dwarf trotted back into the courtyard. “What is it?”

“He’s not dead! Aidan’s not dead! Quick, no time to explain, we’ve got to get him inside right now!”

“Flame Song, I know you loved him, but ye can’t delude yerself. He’s not breathing!”

Suddenly the dwarf found himself nose to nose with over 500 pounds of angry firecat. With a snarl she said, “Get him inside. Now!”

“All right lass, if ye feel that strongly about it.” Belak picked up Aidan, the stocky dwarf lifting his slight form easily, and carried him inside. He put him down on a couch in the back room where Flame had been sleeping.

Flame Song looked around the room. Only one window, and it faced west, so the sun wouldn’t come in until the late afternoon. “Shut the window,” she commanded.

With a shrug Belak closed the window and drew the drapes over it. “Now lass, can you explain all of this? I don’t want to cause you grief, but you have to accept it, Aidan’s dead. He’s not breathing, no pulse, dead.”

“You’ve seen him out cold and not breathing before though, when that animated tree knocked him out on Spectoria. And think Belak, two dwarves were found yesterday, killed by vampires!”

A look of dawning comprehension crossed Belak’s face. “By all the gods! You mean he’s a…”

“A vampire again. Yes. And if we hadn’t gotten him in here in time, he really would have been dead.”

“Aye lass. Quick thinking on your part. But he still doesn’t look too good. Do ye know a way to wake him?”

Flame Song nodded. “There’s only one way I can think of.” Steeling herself for what she was about to do, she shifted back into human form. She drew her dagger and held out her left wrist. It was crossed by a thin, fine scar, like a suicidal teenager’s, but suicide had been the last thing on her mind when she had made that mark. With a quick slice she added a second narrow cut. She had nicked the vein, and blood began to ooze rapidly out of the thin wound. Trying not to think about how dangerous this was, with Aidan unconscious and not in control of himself, she pressed her wrist to his lips. He didn’t respond at first, but then he began to drink, sucking weakly. His hands came up slowly and grabbed Flame Song’s arm. He drank deeper now, and Flame Song gasped at the pain. It had never hurt like this before.

She waited, trembling slightly, while he continued to drink. She could see that some of his burns were actually beginning to heal. Then she started to feel faint and dizzy. Aidan wasn’t stopping. She tugged on her arm, but he only grabbed on tighter. Belak took a step forward, as if he would help. She tugged as hard as she could, and suddenly Aidan’s eyes flew open and he stopped, dropping her arm with a gasp of shock. She slumped forward, feeling weak.

“Flame Song, I’m so sorry.” Aidan started crying. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

Flame Song was too started to cry. She hugged Aidan, saying, “It’s all right. You’re alive, you’re alive. Everything is all right.”

Belak tiptoed out of the room and softly closed the door, leaving the two of them alone.