Though both Baeris and Kalkin wanted to keep Vinh in bed a little longer, he seemed healthy enough and wanted to head out with the group. He almost balked when he saw his first dragon - consciously that is - but he soon learned that the dragons of the Healing Den were just as fun and pleasant as the rest of his own kind.

The trip would be to a fivesome of worlds, two that were layered upon one another oddly. They explained their world hopping in brief, and gave the young man some advice.

"There will always be danger," Lucas announced. "Because our enemy is predictably unpredictable. Count on him becoming violent, and never - ever - listen to what he has to say when he's smiling."

"I know that," Vinh nodded, looking down at the stone floor. "But no one could have warned me."

"No one ever does," the Crazy Doc said. "Until now."

They doubled up with the dragon riders, and they'd begun carrying equipment like stretchers, liquids and bandages. Off they flew, causing Vinh to tremble in fear. They were all afraid of heights to a certain extent, even now, but he'd never been up higher than a few dozen feet on his own world.

As a group upon blue and one stunning red dragon, they flashed into a world of nearly endless jungle. The dragons relayed information, as they usually did, with Sixth squeaking and Cephari giving her own two cents. They flew low over the canopy, where steam literally rose from the leaves below. There was little in the way of mountains, the land was rolling with this carpet of deep green.

They heard the sounds of water rumbling below, and realized that there were gaps in the jungle, where the land had fallen away a bit, and a waterfall drifted down to an impossibly blue-green lake. There was a bit of difference between the cliff and the jungles above and below it, and the group of dragons swept by it to get a look and see if they could land anywhere.

It wasn't looking promising, but then they heard other sounds. Over the rush of water, there were animal noises everywhere. Birds, monkeys, predators, and doubtless everything in between. And then they heard the screaming.

It was a faintly familiar scream to a couple of the Sangers, but not all. The dragons perked up and followed the sounds. There among the slender trunked trees, was a bit of a clearing. A pack of animals, draconic in first impression but then redefined by the Crazy Doc as 'dinosaurs'. These dinos though, they wore feathers on strings around their necks, they had spears in their clawed hands.

They were a tribe. And two of them were fighting.

"How much you want to bet what we're going to find here?" Called Doc. The others laughed and they circled above to watch.

A pair similarly circled, one was a long, tan colored raptor with strong legs and curved black claws, markings from his head down to his tail in a rich black that striped along his sides. On his head were two brightly sky-blue markings, none could tell what his eyecolor was from up beyond the canopy though. It was good enough. That was their guy.

The other was a pale-colored raptor whose thickly muscled body was held at a low angle, his skin bore an almost yellowish tint, specked with silver-platinum-gold on his back and body. His muzzle and between his eyes was a green silver shade.

The color of Jon's eyes. Storm clouds and algae. Beautiful eyes. All eight of the men paused for a moment, in shameful memory of those eyes. Sometimes Jon would hurt them just for wanting a look at his eyes.

The pair of dinosaurs moved around one another, lashing their long tails. There was another whole group of raptors beyond them, forming a loose circle, but they would back up and get out of the combatants way if they got too close. This was obviously a battle meant only for those two.

As one would lunge, the other would raise his clawed foot - a good kick from one of those talons would gut an enemy. Three times they struck hard at one another, each leaving long gashes in the other's hide. Neither seemed to be slowing down.

The Crazy Doc relayed a message to the others, that this was something he'd done. In court, of all places. Maybe this was a court, and they didn't even know it. Perhaps. But more likely, given the coloration of the other raptors beyond? It was a harem. They all had tan hide with dark markings...

The tan one grappled the yellow by the throat, with his short strong arms. And then he sunk his teeth deeply into his opponent's head - grasping it around the muzzle so strongly that the crack of bone was heard all the way up in the winds, where the dragons flinched.

The yellow one flopped lifeless to the ground, and the victor screamed at the sky. He kicked hard onto the corpse, making blood fly everywhere. The others came forward slowly, until they too joined in the howling and kicking.

"I don't think we have a problem here any more," said Kalkin. As they left this jungle world the dragons gave a loud call, which silenced the rest of the jungle for a moment. But then it was echoed by a troupe of tan-and-black males below.

***

This place they had ported into now, it was dark. The sky roiled with clouds that did not rain, they merely covered everything. There were bits of nighttime sky visible at the horizon, but this batch of storm? It was right over what appeared to be a sprawling walled city. There were large beasts - dragon like beasts - resting near the edges of the city. They looked in or out of it, as they could reach - some might be guarding, some might be burden creatures or curriers.

At least they wouldn't have to hide the dragons here. Of course, the moment someone thought that, three of the 'guard' dragons below looked up with their huge jagged maws open in a growled warning.

The dragons did not balk, but neither would they approach the city.

They say we need clearance. What is that for? Asked Fennryth of his rider. The Doc shrugged and told the others, "convince them we're friendly, somehow." They circled in the sky over this odd city, and waited.

The dragons eventually were told that they could land - if their riders would submit to a quarantine. That brought a laugh to Lucas' lips. "What's down there that we will contaminate?"

They don't know if you are alive or not, replied Audeo privately. Her mental voice was warm, but not happy. I think there are many creatures that live but do not live, there.

"Undead," Lucas grunted to the others. "They need to check us for a pulse?"

That was how it appeared. For when they landed in the wide entry courtyard the group was surrounded by guards with long spears and bristling bows. But there was something extremely unsettling about this all.

"It's quiet," said the genrehopper. "They... aren't the live ones."

"Oh that's just great," Izzy hissed. "If we're alive, does that make us the targets? Or food?"

"Both," announced a burly man whose black and red breastplate bore a hand-clutching-heart design on it. "There is a price to pass through this city unharmed, when you are of the living."

"What price is it?" Asked Vanya. He seemed most at ease with this place, so the others let him take the lead. "So long as we retain our dragons and all our lives, and needless to say our freedom to leave here, I will see to your price."

"It is not gold nor riches we seek," said the guard. He pushed back his helmet, and the rest of the guards let their weapons relax in their grip. The man was human, or nearly so, but big - almost Vanya's height and much wider. A treetrunk wide man. Whiter than milk, though. With dark brown eyes that had red rims, dark circles below them on his pale skin. His hair which could be seen stuffed under the steel helm was a light shade of copper, he was not an unattractive man, if he were alive the group might even say they'd fall for him.

"The price is blood - we must harvest it off animals or travelers, and those who come here willingly know our cost."

"What have you in this city that people would brave this cost?" Asked Izzy, quietly.

"We have libraries, boy, information, spell books older than the mountains. Powerful people who may be comissioned, and we have an army." He smiled, and his fangs could be seen easily. He must have been older than he looked, undead for more years than they expected, because just then he also added, "and we do not take lives with our food unless we must. Our people are civilized, here. The outland clans? Not so much. Come along."

He turned, holding his helmet under one arm as his cape drifted behind him. The guards formed a corridor, but none of the Sangers seemed likely to bolt.

The architecture of the city became apparent - there were awnings on everything that kept the sky all but invisible to the people inside. They liked air, they just disliked the sunlight that must surely be on its way in some hours. The city seemed quiet, empty, but not deserted nor desolate. With the senses that the Sangers had, they could detect life all around them, but it was not as frequently seen as those who walked without heartbeats.

Stone walls, secure marble steps, and a towering edifice that had no windows and only one grand door, was where the guard captain led them. Though it was night and though it was still covered with clouds they all could see admirably well. There was no need for the torches that the guard offered to light on their way. Perhaps by declining that, they had earned a bit of respect from the locals.

"The collectors are here," said the guard. "I will be waiting outside for you. If you need to rest, just ask them and you will be provided a place for the duration."

"How much..." Vinh asked, "and how often?"

"That will have to be decided by the collectors," the guard said, bowing as he left them in the lobby of this massive hall. The walls were rounded, the tower's base must have been more than two hundred feet across. In the center of the place ran a smaller tower, all still marble. There were torches here, spotting the walls and casting spooky shadows and light everywhere. The floor was dark, slick. It was not overtly scary, but it was still empty and unnerving.

Especially so when one of the vampires arrived to show them to their waiting room. She made no sound, not a breath came from her lips, but she smiled with them pleasantly enough. Vinh and Izzy almost jumped out of their skin when she showed up behind them. The others laughed nervously.

"Please, follow me," she said softly. "I am sorry for the wait, but our collectors are in negotiations with a particularly idiotic band of travelers."

"Other than us?" Izzy said, and the woman gave off a musical laugh.

"Are you trying to fight for the lives of your favorite rooster?" She asked. "They're just overly attached to the noisy thing. Chickens aren't much, but..." The woman took a strangely apologetic glance at the group, "to be honest we're not collecting enough and people aren't coming in like they were. The price you pay might be higher than it was just a few decades ago. I don't wish to dampen your visit with that."

"We're all right with that," Vanya said, "perhaps a deal could be arranged that will please your collectors."

"Thank you," she said, almost a whisper. Perhaps they were starving to real death, these vampires? She didn't seem ravenous, but then not all the group had ever met a vampire. They arrived to a plushly comfortable room with a large round table, surrounded by soft high-backed cloth covered chairs. It was a conference room, but more like a restaurant booth of some kind.

"What's your game on this, Vanya?" Asked Lucas. He wasn't irate, but he was not taking this with the ease that the immortal Zekiran had on him.

"I've been feeding vampires all my life, in fact I bred myself with one of them once. Juvon's still alive, of course. As is Java, our daughter."

"They had vampires on your planet?" Vinh asked, incredulous. "I thought they were just scary stories."

"Perhaps they move from place to place, if your world has stories of them," Vanya said. "But yes, of course we did. But they came in all manner of kinds. Juvon's uncle needed no blood, he preyed only on emotions. Strength of emotions, passions. I rather preferred giving blood."

At least the doors opening made some noise to alert them to the presence of the Collectors. A trio of vampires, all the same pale shade with slight circles of dark below their eyes, which all had reddened rims as though they'd pierced them and blood ran down the eyelid. One was a tall and gaunt man with pale grey-black hair almost like the Sangers', whose crest on his silken garments was the same hand and heart design as the guard. The shorter man was stockier of build, and his clothing bore a blue and violet theme with what looked like a star gazing eye on it. His head was all but bald, save for a ring of brown hair. Pattern baldness in vampires? The third was a woman who was far from beautiful but was striking none the less with yellow trimmed green clothing and a firey arrow design as her crest.

"Welcome to FaluVeres, travelers," Said the tall one. "You have been informed of our price?"

"Certainly," Vanya said, "but not the exact quote. And I would be interested in extending a kindness if needed, to your city."

The pair of shorter vampires glanced at one another behind the taller, but said nothing.

"Of course, of course. Our prices..." He sighed, "recently have had to increase. Our situation is not dire, nor is it comfortably settled just now. Normally our requirements are enough to fill this jug," he produced a smallish gourd-shaped glass jar, "for every two days spent in our city."

"Normally," said Crazy Doc of Carramba, "but now?"

"It must be for only one day. We will not take more, if the traveler cannot support that price, for we do wish them to return, and be able to do their trade while here of course."

"Of course," the Doc said.

"If we find who we are looking for, we will barely be here but a night," Vanya said. "And I will have to discuss this with my companions, but we may be able to provide you with more than your price, if we can also be afforded some information."

Kalkin realized what Vanya was doing, and had to think that he was a sly one. As an immortal, of course, Vanya would be able to donate almost infinite amounts of blood. Most likely, Lucas and Kalkin himself would also be able to do this. The others, perhaps would try. Izzy and Vinh - no. Especially not Vinh. Before he really had any kind of segue into it, Kalkin asserted himself into the conversation.

"Vinh is a bit frail at the moment," he said, "and as his physician I must ask that he not be required to donate more than the minimum. We can pick that slack up, but you still need more rest."

Vinh was about to protest but the older man's steely gaze told him to shut up and get the benefits of it.

"He is not diseased, is he?" Asked the woman in green.

"No, no, just fresh from injuries that he's recovering from." Kalkin said. She seemed to accept that. Vanya went on with the dealing. For someone who'd spent most of his life flat broke or in transit off planet, he was still a Zekiran at heart and what they did best was barter. He must have learned a few things while in his long immortality.

Eventually it was decided that Vanya, Lucas and Kalkin who'd volunteered for this would remain for donations as much as they could bear, and still walk away after a night's rest. For them, that might very well bleed them almost dry. But they could survive it, and they all knew that. The others would donate their amounts, and then start looking for the local Sanger, provided they could get that information from the vampires.

The strange look of anticipation on the shorter man's face was nudged off him by the woman, who more politely helped get the group set up with their bleeding aparatus. There was no biting to be had, and for all appearances, Vanya almost looked disappointed.

"While you are here, please make yourselves comfortable. I will dismiss the guards, outside. We will begin searching for your counterpart," the woman said. "We have many ways to glean this but I believe we will find the one you search for quickly. Should we bring him here, if he's to be found?"

"We can't go looking ourselves?" Van asked, as they slid a painless glass shard into his arm. "Honestly your hospitality is kind of strange, but it's very pleasant compared to many places I've been. I'd like to see your city a bit."

"Bring him a message if he's able to accept one," Kalkin said, "if that's possible, then we can arrange to meet somewhere."

"There is a food-tavern at the edge of the town," the woman said. "Our city does not have more than one of those, and it's often busy during the travel season. But this is not the travel season, so ... you will not have trouble finding your friend."

They were left alone, to discuss what their next move would be, as the quiet faintly-magical pumps brought their lifeblood out in slender rubber tubes to the glass jars.

"You know this is frightful to say, but this is hardly sanitary," Talon's Doc Sanger said. He held the jar in one hand and gazed at the blood in it casually. "Not even any refrigeration. No wonder they ask about disease."

That got them started on a riotously funny discussion about how madly it would suck if someone transferred diseases this way, who to blame, and how they all themselves would hate life if a sexually transmitted disease came walking into their lives. They'd always been able to beat those things, by thinking hard about it. But there might come a day...

"They have located the man you're looking for," said the shorter vampire. "My people have told me that he will arrive to the tavern in the morning. He is one of those late-night types, and for us, that means staying out until much too late in the day."

"Isn't that dangerous?" Asked Izzy.

"It is, that is why we have the clouds," he pointed up, and tilted his head. "You arrived on dragons, foreign ones. Are you all brothers?"

"No," Lucas said, "but we're close enough. So you have the clouds to keep most of the sunlight off - that's why it was just circling over the city. That's quite a powerful weather spell you must have."

As they finished up their donations, and the others fell to sleep, the vampire explained a bit more about their city. The mages and necromancers they had were all somewhat tired of their jobs. They needed someone new to replace them. But, those were few and far between, and most of them had their own designs on the world, instead of resting up in a city like this. Cooperative life with the living, something that Lucas explained was how a large number of demons and devils lived in Hell. When he'd been there.

When the day began to break, only Vanya was left awake and coherent. His physiology was far more 'cranked up to ten' than the others, even the immortal others. He took the stopper for the last jar he'd filled, and placed the jar among the others. All counted, there were twenty eight jars. A more pleasant greeting from the woman who had escorted them to the room had never been seen.

"You've done us such a service," she purred.

"How much do you usually drink, to survive?" Vanya asked, as he woke the others. Vinh and Izzy came awake quickly, only having given their one jar. Van and the Crazy Docs' were a little tougher, as they'd done two each. It would be a while before Kalkin and Lucas would be all quippy and full of themselves, but they rose.

"We train ourselves to live off as little as possible, sir," she said. "One jar will feed a person of my size for more than a fortnight, if we let it chill. We have spells to keep it fresh."

"The economy here must be a total disaster when a war comes through..." one of the Crazy Docs said. The woman laughed, and then pulled them all out of the room with a wide grin.

"I will take you to the tavern. My day is all but gone, gentlemen, and yours is just starting. I should love to see your business go well."

"I never thought that I'd genuinely say I'd miss a city of undead," Lucas said, "but honestly you're really changing that."

They came out into the dim light, morning had broken but fortunately east was where the hilly lands were. The sun would come up almost completely obscured by the clouds and mountainside. It was in the evening, then, when the flatlands to the west would make it difficult for these undead to rise to their city streets.

The tavern was hard to miss, as it was the only place with a consistant warmth and heartbeat to it. The group of weary Sangers entered it, and were unsuprised to see their local member sitting with not just an attractive woman on one arm, but with an attendant healthy young man on the other. He was young looking, but with a wisdom held in his bright eyes. His skin maintained a darker hue, and they wondered - had he been recently converted or was he just showing off? They could after all change the melanin in their skin to get the right tan they wanted to impress people.

His clothing was expensive looking, but comfortable in that way that they would never wear something badly. A snug violet red high-collared shirt, below a layered and shortly sleeved black and purple vest-coat. He had a big ornate golden medal pinning the shirt and they wondered what sort of religion he'd found? It looked like a cross, but wasn't quite like any Earthly one. He rose, bowed, his hair was tied sharply back and they noticed that his coat was meant to be used in flourishing moves. If nothing else he was a master of style.

"I was told that there were relatives looking for me," he said, gently dismissing the pair of adorees. "I was not sure what that meant, since my family has been dust for many years."

"Most of ours too," Vanya said. He explained their mission, and was greeted with a sly and pleased smile.

"And you'd like to know where he is? I shall tell you." They wanted to call him Sangria. No one said it but he moved like mercury, if these vampires were the ones who visited other worlds, Vinh was sure of why they had the reputation they did. He might be responsible for them, this man.

They followed 'Sangria' out to the balcony which was begining to fill with the ambient light of day. Below the clouds, it was still dark, but on the edges of their artificial storm it was bright. Far to the south-west, he pointed out, there was a set of mountains. Between them, a huge castle and city where the unruly clans of other undead occasionally met.

"They answer to him?" Asked Vinh.

"Oh no, no, but he is one of them. A lord among them, but not their leader. And you know how that must gall him so." He smiled widely and betrayed the sharp, elegant fangs that they knew he had. Every single one of them wanted desperately to feel those fangs slip into their skin. He looked down toward the courtyard where their dragons rested.

"Ah, a colorful bunch, not like ours." He looked at the dragons with a curious tilt to his head. "A bit of color around the place would be nice."

"We could ... arrange something," Kalkin said, "there are always dragon clutches ready to hatch - not all of them take undead, mind you, but most will if you can abide by their rules."

He paused, and thought. "There are things I would put in order before setting out to find a dragon mount."

"They're more than that," Izzy said, "they're our friends, eternally. Can you... handle mental speech?"

"Of course I can," 'Sangria' said. "How do you think they're commanded?" He tossed his head toward the patrons in the tavern, "though I'll admit I don't have to do too much of that around here. They never seem to mind the chill skin."

Izzy wasn't interested in feeling his cold flesh, but Van and the Doc's did. And Sangria seemed to relish the touch - if anything he was far more vain than the rest of them. But genuinely so, and attentive. He wouldn't just leave his 'girlfriend' down there, or his boytoy, without saying good bye at least. Perhaps providing for some servants or whatever he had at home.

"We will come back for you, then," said Vanya. "We will know when you are ready. We're like that."

Sangria thanked the tall man, and watched until they'd flown off on their mounts - eyes piercing the light of day with a bit of pain but he enjoyed that pain anyway.