Smoke rose from the burned houses and drifted away into the afternoon sky. A dog limped from behind a toppled shed and whimpered at the approaching figures.

Quatre ran ahead of his companions and knelt beside the wounded creature. "Oh, you poor thing!" he said, lifting the dog’s leg to inspect the wound.

Heero stopped in the center of the road and looked around at the village. It had been stripped of everything except the burned shells of the houses, and there were no people to be found. It was the second destroyed village they had come across that day.

Wufei walked over to Quatre and looked down at the dog. "Leave it," he said. "It won’t be of any use to us."

Quatre, ignoring Wufei’s remark, closed his hand around the dog’s wound. The animal whimpered and tried to pull the leg away, but a soft light began issuing from between Quatre’s closed fingers, and when he lifted his hands away, the wound, which had been open and raw, was half scabbed over, and looked almost healed.

Quatre looked up at Wufei. "I’ve been working on my healing spells."

Trowa came over to the two. "Why don’t you take him with us?" he said. "He can help us catch food."

Quatre laughed as the dog began licking his face. "Good idea," he said. He put a hand on the dog’s head. "I’ll call him… uh… Winner!"

Duo had come up beside Heero and said, "Let’s move on. There’s no one here."

Heero nodded, and looked around once more. Then he motioned to the others, and they all moved out of the burned village, the dog trailing behind them.

Zechs smiled to himself as he ran a finger along the aged leather cover of the Book of Meteors. The greenish binding and warped, yellowing pages made it look like nothing more than a useless old volume, long forgotten in someone’s cellar. But of course, it was much more than that. The spells… more powerful than anything he had ever seen before. It had taken nearly four years to decipher just the one spell he was using, but it was well worth it.

He put the book down and rose from his reading table. Leaving the small room, he walked down passages, through the fortress, until he came to Treize’s conferring chamber, where he was speaking with Noin.

"The first wave of captured people is being brought in," she was saying. "They are ready to be placed under your control, as soon as Zechs is ready." She looked up as Zechs entered the room, gave him a small, quick smile, and turned back to Treize. "All of my men have reported in safely, except…" She hesitated. "Except the ones sent to deal with the First Magician."

Treize, silent until now, raised his head. "The First Magician…" he repeated slowly. "I see. Well, it appears that they had some forewarning of our approach."

"Yes, sir," Noin replied. "None of the townspeople were found, either."

Treize nodded, then looked up at Zechs. "What news have you? Is the spell ready?"

Zechs nodded. "It is. But I have more good news. I have found the apprentices."

Treize’s head rose just slightly. "Have you?"

"They were taking many strong precautions to make sure that they could not be tracked," Zechs said, "But there was another creature with them, a dog, I think. He left them around midday, but by then I had a good lock on them. They will not lose us again."

Treize nodded in approval and allowed himself a small smile. "Very good indeed. You have done well, my friend. But do you have any idea where they are going? Because," he said in a low voice, "There is nowhere to hide from us."

"I hardly think they are hiding," said Zechs. "They appear to be heading towards the colonies."

Treize’s face did not change, but he said, "Are they going to enlist the help of Queen Relena?"

Zechs nodded. "It would appear so, sir," he said.

Treize nodded. "I see…." He was silent for a moment, then said, "Well, I trust you can find some way to hinder their progress?"

Zechs nodded and stood taller. "I will, sir."

Treize stood to his feet. "Very well. Lady Une?"

Zechs started as he realized that the woman had been standing against the wall behind Treize the entire time, and he had not noticed her. Now she stepped forward, saluting. The constantly blank expression on her face was cold, and Zechs once again had to stifle a shiver as he watched her. The only thing about Treize that he could honestly complain about was the pleasure he took from having this drone of a woman about to do his bidding.

"Lady Une," Treize told her, "See to the preparations for the captured townspeople. Make sure everything is ready."

"Yes, sir," she said, and left the room.

Noin stood as Treize followed Lady Une, speaking over his shoulder to Zechs and Noin, "Make ready for the next stage of the operation."

As soon as Treize was gone and the heavy wooden door slammed behind him, Zechs reached out an arm to pull Noin up against him, and kissed her passionately.

When they drew apart, Noin giggled quietly and rested her head against Zechs’ chest. "Everything is going perfectly," she said.

Zechs stroked her hair. "The Magicians and their apprentices will be dealt with soon enough," he said. "Then the plan will be complete. Treize—"

"Will have what he wants," Noin finished. She looked up, gazing adoringly at the silvery mask. "And so will we."

Zechs smiled. Everything was going exactly as planned, and he knew just how to deal with the apprentices. He reached up his arms, lifting off the mask to kiss her again. He would deal with the apprentices in the morning….

The voice was wispy, distant. He strained to hear it better.

Come? Come where?

The calling was weak also, distant and strange, but he thought it was getting stronger.

I’m on my way, just wait for me.

A shimmering radiance began forming before his eyes. It flowed all around him, and a shape began to come together in front him. He strained his eyes to see what it was. A woman?

The light spread and faded, and Heero found himself looking up at the sky, blue and fresh in the early morning between the trees. A strange dream, he thought, but Master J had always told him never to ignore a dream, because they were almost always premonitions, or warnings. But what could this have meant? Perhaps it would come again another night.

He rolled to his stomach and sat up, looking around. The others were all still asleep, except Quatre, who was sitting with his back against a tree a small distance from the others. His head was bowed, and it almost looked like he was in pain, his head moving up and down as if he were sobbing, and his arms were shaking. Heero’s eyes fell on what he was holding.

"Quatre, what are you doing with that sword?" he called. He stood and began moving toward the other boy. The Epyon was dangerous, and Quatre’s behavior was very strange. Quatre stood suddenly and turned to face Heero, the sword half-raised in his hands. Heero stopped cold as he saw Quatre’s face. The boy’s eyes were wide and dark. There was a black light in them that frightened Heero and brought all his senses to an alert.

The other three magicians had heard Heero’s voice and were rising now, one at a time, standing to their feet to face Quatre, all of them as alarmed as Heero at the strange look in Quatre’s eyes.

"Quatre, what are you—?" Duo began, but Quatre’s voice cut him off.

"I am the Epyon of Ironblood," he began, and Heero instantly recognized that it wasn’t Quatre’s voice that was coming out of his mouth. He continued. "I am powerful beyond the imagination of any. None knows of my true strength; all who come before me, fall." Quatre took a deep breath then, as if bracing himself, and spread his feet and raised the sword. Heero recognized it as an attacking stance, and swallowed, unarmed and completely defenseless.

But as Quatre raised a hellish cry and charged forward, Heero felt something move beside him, and Trowa’s slim figure rushed past him, his own sword raised to meet Quatre’s. The two blades clashed, and Trowa’s shuddered and split. Trowa dropped the broken shards and held his arms in pain from the impact. Quatre hissed, like some unearthly serpent, and raised the great sword above Trowa’s head.

Suddenly his head jerked backward violently and he cried out in a high, bird-like screech. Little patches of shimmering light flickered behind him, and Heero realized that Duo had managed to get behind him and grab him around the neck.

But Quatre was fast, and turning the sword around, jabbed at the air behind him. The hold on his neck was released and Duo appeared, uninjured, several feet behind him. He had dodged the blade, but his robe was torn; it had been close.

Quatre turned to him, but he faltered for just a second. The strange contorted expression on his face shifted to one of dismay and immense terror. "Duo," he gasped, and it was his own voice. "Stay back. I—" He choked off abruptly, and the change came over him once again; his face contorted, and without a delay he prepared to charge again.

The next instant, before he could react, Trowa was beside him, and had grabbed the wrist of the arm that held the sword. He began twisting savagely, and Quatre let out the high-pitched screech once again. Finally his grip on the sword loosened and it fell to the ground. Instead of picking it up, however, Trowa had one of his own knives ready, and the next second was wrestling Quatre to the ground, the knife at his throat.

But Quatre was no longer struggling. As soon as he had let go of the sword, the spell had seemed to be released, and his face no longer looked possessed.

"Trowa," he was panting, "I’m sorry, I…. I don’t know what…." His voice faltered, and tears gathered in the corners of his eyes.

Trowa stood up slowly, releasing Quatre. "Don’t be sorry," he said. He looked at the sword lying on the ground a few feet away. "That wasn’t you."

Heero walked over to the sword and looked down at it. "They were controlling you," he said, "The same way they controlled those riders." He reached down and picked up the sword. Nothing happened; the weapon had returned to normal.

Duo laughed shakily. "It’s a good thing for us they picked you, Quatre," he said. "I guess your sword-fighting skills aren’t up to par, huh?"

Quatre was standing up. "I don’t think they picked me," he said quietly, looking down at himself. "I woke up early this morning, and saw the sword. It was strange. I… I knew I shouldn’t touch it, but I had to see…." He trailed off, seeming confused.

"How about no one touches the sword from now on except Heero?" Wufei put in, coming to stand beside Heero, who was still turning the sword over and examining it.

Heero nodded. "That’s a good idea," he said. "It belongs to me by birthright, and I think if anyone else touches it, it could be…."

"Dangerous," said Duo, becoming serious. "That sword is nothing but trouble, not safe for any of us to use. And if Heero wants to risk it, then I say he’s crazy, but that’s his choice."

Zechs stood in the little room, hands resting on the table. The scrawny one, the only one who couldn’t use a sword, had just happened to be the first to wake up, and had been easily subdued by the others. Zechs breathed deeply and forced himself to be calm. Just bad luck. He would have better luck next time. He clenched his fists. He would be sure of it.

Stay tuned for Part 3 of Ironblood

Next Time: The apprentices come across a new friend (with a familiar name ;) who needs their help. But something sinister lurks behind this harmless encounter, and the apprentices find themselves in trouble deeper than they can handle….