Quinn was frustrated.

She'd accepted within the last week that she was in a magical world.

Around three days ago, she'd tried to glean information from her intimidating companion with very little success.

Miroslav didn't talk.

Ever.

He communicated in grunts or often times through prolonged eye contact when he thought you were being really obnoxious or stupid.

Unfortunately that tactic worked on Quinn. She couldn't help it! He had such pretty eyes that when he turned them in her direction, she sort of forgot what she was even talking about in the first place. She felt like a sixteen year old who had never seen boys before.

Quinn had tried every possible conversation starter.

She tried asking questions, which he simply ignored. She tried bringing things up casually, but he didn't answer to that either. At the point where she was really desperate she had gone for the sharing your pitiful backstory, but found his silence too humiliating to get past a few sentences. She felt like he was judging her for even opening her mouth.

Quinn knew almost nothing.

A week! And she knew nothing.

Some people-reading gift.

Sighing, Quinn gave up on the idea that she would ever have normal communication again.

She'd spent the last 24 hours being as loud and annoying as possible.

To get to the grump, but also because she was just bored.

She'd played a very lame one player game of I Spy.

She'd spent about an hour doing a dramatic narration of everything they did. She listed all the countries she could remember.

She told him about her stupid roommate Tammy.

She'd sang The 100 Beer Bottle Song at least 3 times.

She was now on 4.

"43 bottles of beer on the wall! 43 bottles of beer! Take one down, pass it around, 42 bottles of beer on the wall. 42 bottles of beer on the wall--" she garbled the end of the line as Miroslav's gloved hand came down over her mouth.

He stared her in the eye, making sure that she got the message and she grew quiet.

He hesitantly lifted his glove.

"Well, that was rude. All you had to do was tell me to-" Quinn was cut off by a glove to the face again.

She made a few thankfully muffled remarks that were probably not very nice.

Miroslav rolled his eyes and put one finger to his lips.

Quinn wasn't stupid. She got the message.

He raised an eyebrow and she nodded, reluctantly.

He lifted his hand and pointed beyond the ridge.

Just over the ridge was a cart.

A cart attached to two humongous horses. Their hooves looked like they would be the size of her face.

Miroslav climbed over the ridge stealthily, his large body making almost no sound at all, which Quinn figured was impossible before watching him do it.

He scanned his surroundings before motioning with one hand for Quinn.

She went crunching up after him, grumbling a little about his stupid procedures when she felt a gust of air and then there was a knife being held in front of her throat.

She gasped and held very still, trying to size up the person behind her.

From what she could tell, they were only about an inch shorter than her.

Definitely thinner.

As she tried to analyze them, she was suddenly very aware of them.

"Mir-"

Miroslav jerked his head once.

Okay.

Did not want his name out there for some reason.

"Uh.....Miro?" Quinn covered.

Miroslav's head nodded once.

"Don't hurt them Miro."

His eyes met hers. She couldn't usually read his expression, but it was very obviously disbelieving at the current moment.

"It sounds insane." It really did.

As Quinn tried to shift away from her attacker, their wrist brushed her throat and what had been a strange intuitive feeling became an overwhelming one that flooded her system.

"They're afraid Miro. They're scared. Don't hurt them. Please."

"She's lying. Doesn't know what shes talking 'bout." Her attacker bit out.

Quinn was confused. She could feel they're fear and she couldn't think straight.

"Miro?" She began to panic at her loss of control.

Miroslav's eyes moved from her attacker to her, then to her attacker.

Quinn swore she didn't see him move.

One second he was in front of her.

The next, there was a sheet of ice between her and her attacker and through it she could make out blurry struggling shapes.

The overwhelming fear was receding.

A hint of it was still in the air, but Quinn sighed as her mind refocused.

She crept around the ice wall.

Miroslav was dodging clumsy kicks and slashes.

He leaned sideways, grabbing the attacker's arm and disarming them before twisting their arms behind them.

Quinn gasped.

The attacker was a thin boy, probably just a lanky teenager. He had brown hair, and his brown eyes held that fear that she could still sense.

He struggled violently against Miroslav's hold.

"Please stop."

The boy stared at her, struggles forgotten.

"I know. He's a frightening brute, but he's really not that bad. Miro, let him go."

"You're a gel!" The boy gasped.

"Uh, yeah? Miro, seriously. He's littler than I am."

Miroslav raised one eyebrow.

"He had the element of suprise. And now he doesn't have a knife."

The boy panted a little, clearly tired.

"Do you have telepethy?" He whispered, the same way a paranoid psycho would ask if you spoke Russian and knew the Aliens.

"Oh. No. We've just been around each other long enough that I can just kinda tell."

Miroslav let the boy go, but he was tense, legs apart as though he were bracing for another fight.

"Gels are rare. All the ones with Gifts ah gone." The boy looked genuinely in awe.

"What are you talking about?" Miroslav growled.

Charming as ever.

"The Sorgina. It was one of the first things she did. Once we knew about it, we stahted puttin' the gels in hidin', but anyone that she feels threatened by ends up disappeared."

A twinge of sadness and fear tinged the air.

"Disappeared?" Quinn repeated.

"No one knows whether they're alive, but everyone I know doesn't think so."

"How awful." Quinn could feel it.

Miroslav put a hand on the boy's shoulder and looked at him seriously.

"When.....did you last see the prince?" He asked.

The boy's eyes widened.

"The royal family has been dead about twelve years now, 'less you believe that kooky stuff." The boy said.

"What's your name?" Miroslav growled.

He hadn't moved.

"Name's Nolako. You can call me Nol. Everybody does."

"Listen. Nolako. We need to get to the city, and my companion needs to be kept secret. Can you help us?" Miroslov said, slowly.

"You want her in the city?" Nol asked, eyes wide.

"We're on a mission. She has to come with me."

Nol helped Quinn onto the cart, which was carrying the equivalent of otherworldly polar bear furs. Quinn slipped under one or two and felt her body warm up instantly.

Miroslav jumped in after her and sat on the furs close to the front.

"I'll tell you when we near the city. Then you'll have to hide."

They talked for a long while, all through the remaining daylight.

Nolako was 16. Thin. Way too thin.

Quinn got the impression that the man he worked for was not the world's greatest guy.

Nol had relaxed, and she could feel his happy mood radiate warmth as though it were one of the furs atop her.

According to Nol, the Sorgina was the current dictator running Elurra, and because of her "disappear" policy, she'd emptied the good council seats and replaced them with her own personal pawns.

"You see," Nol explained. "The Sorgina doesn't stay in Elurra. Doesn't like it. Those council puppets run things while she's gone, but in comparison to her, they're tame."

"What would one need to do to get onto the council?" Miroslav asked.

Quinn felt Nol's uncertainty.

"An invitation from one of the current members, I think. But, they're greedy. They don't share power unless it benefits them. I've heard they try to get rid of each other when The Sorgina isn't looking. The Council is brutal." Nol explained.

Quinn wanted to know more, but the cart rocked back and forth gently, and she was so warm.... exhaustion from the past week seemed to catch up with her all at once.

Her eyelids flickered as she tried to stay awake.

Then Miroslav pulled her back against his legs and she gave in and laid down with a sigh.