Her mind wide open, Cal felt the man’s soul escape his body, and she shivered uncontrollably. She had never before taken a life, not even during her time in the Alftar Army. The young woman looked down at the blood-stained dagger in her hand for a long moment, frozen in shock. A hundred feelings ran through her, culminating in one question; who or what am I? She shuddered again and locked her mind from the outside world.<br/><br/>A Psionic blast brought her abruptly back to the present. The leader of the group of green cloaks was thrown past her out the window, showering her with wood splinters as he knocked apart the door frame, and Cal looked up at the merchant in astonishment. Had he done that? She watched his hand fall from the pendant around his neck and realized that he must have just deflected the blow. Cal cursed. If the green cloak had been able to summon that large of a blast,  he had no reason not to teleport when he saw things not going well for him, and Cal lacked the skill the masters called Following. She could not follow him through the scar his teleport left.<br/><br/>Cursing aloud in a long stream of Alftari, the red head searched the body of the man she had killed. Other than a few coins and weapons, he had nothing but the pendant to identify him, and no clues that pointed to their future plans. Cal cursed her own anger. Now not only would the leader most likely escape, they would also know they were being followed. Why had she not just watched the scene play out and continue following the green cloaks?<br/><br/>Then again, Cal knew herself, and she could not have allowed these innocent people to be attacked and possibly killed. It never did any good, wondering what would have been.<br/><br/>One of the green cloaks was dead at her feet, another with a broken knee and in the path of a charging dragon, and the leader being followed outside by the merchant man, possibly to disappear any moment. The fight was all but over, Cal realized, but no one who had participated would be safe afterwards. The green cloaks could return in force or the city’s officials would choose to blame them, the good guys. In every amulet murder case she had seen, the red head had noticed a distinct lack of involvement by the authorities—whether it was because the green cloaks were working with the law or because of the lack of evidence, Cal didn’t know. Like as not, the authorities would take just about any chance to pin the blame on someone.<br/><br/>She heard the Alftar girl who had been in the shop say ""Surrender and be taken by the authorities of this fair city, or resist and subsequently die from your wounds and future injuries," but Cal thought that was a thoroughly optimistic statement. The red head  hurried outside where the others were, in various stages of fighting and recovering.<span style="color: #0040FF">“Get whatever you need together, and get ready to run,”</span>she shouted.<span style="color: #0040FF">“No one who opposes these people stays safe for long!”</span>After a second she opened her mind and mentally shouted to her dragon.<span style="color: #0040FF">“Zephyr!”</span><br/><br/>Zephyr had heard commotion and seen the scrambling of the ant-sized humans in the city from his knoll on a tall neighboring hill. He was now hovering anxiously, high in the sky above. Knowing his Alftar, she would have either started it or ran in the least sensible direction (towards the danger) as soon as it became known to her. He was thus thoroughly unsurprised when he heard her shout for him, and he nearly answered with a haughty ‘I told you so.’ But, instead, Zephyr decided to play the stoic hero and thought simply<span style="color: #00BF00">“I come.”</span>The girl would hear him.