Dante and the hita crouched in the soot deformed forest beside Star Mines. The already bare branches spoke of winter, yet another fall had hardly begun. The night basked in the spell of warmth between summer and true fall. Hita summer, the humans called it, from the years when hita used to attack hunters, travelers and isolated settlements. The creatures surrounding Dante wore full camouflage paint and dead human hair ornaments. Their devil eyes and guns glinted in the dark. That time had returned.

Friend wondered if Dante's magic had vanished with the closeness of the iron. The hita's images seemed faraway, almost a disappearing dream. Dante closed his eyes and concentrated. His power still existed. He tugged the Black's cloak around him and concentrated. The cape shivered the shine's distress but the magic grew. He imaged his strength to the hita and they returned satisfaction that he possessed enough.

During their planning of the mission, Dante had remembered that he communicated with Friend while in the iron helmet and that human telepaths used magic to talk and listen to other minds. Perhaps his ability could overcome iron. Reluctantly, he had put on the helmet, minus the bit. A sudden silence descended. He had sent Friend a questioning look and the hita shook its head. No images or feelings traveled from him to them. This could create a serious situation at Star Mines.

"Why didn't the helmet stop them before?" wondered Dante as he removed it.

"The shine," imaged Friend.

Dante got the cloak, laid it out on the floor of the hall and called. The cape inflated, the wraith shaking out the dust from the folds.

"What do you wish?" it asked.

"If I asked you to kill my half-brothers, my mother, all my enemies, free the slaves, would you do it?" asked Dante in a sudden inspiration.

"That is not possible," replied the shine.

"I didn't think so or I would be long dead or captured. Just a thought. But you'll help me with other things, won't you?"

"I am bound to you."

"Then you won't mind becoming part of the material again:

The words whorled into the cowl, the shine moaned and the cloak collapsed in a heap. Dante pulled on the cape, tugged the cowl over his head and put on the helmet. The chatter from hita at the end of the room dimmed but the rest remained load and clear. He covered his face to hide his body language and sent out the emotion of satisfaction. Friend had sent back an acknowledgment of his feelings.

"Break," shouted Dante.

A black word oozed out of the dark interior of the hood and drifted across the hall to rattle a small pot of incense. He had needed intense magic practice with the cape and helmet before he could drill a hole in the vessel and the spells wore him out. He could only use a little magic, mostly to communicate with the hita. They would carry out the bulk of the mission the regular way, with stealth and explosions.

The troop sneaked out of the trees, forded a sluggish red stream and climbed over a few gritty barren hills. They looked down on Star Mines. Dante gave an involuntary gasp. He was an idiot. Below them, stretching for a good mile, lay an open pit mine, not the entrances to a few underground shafts. The band of orange harvest moons clinging to the horizon like a snake necklace sent odd shadows across the long ridges and rail lines scarring the hillside. Here and there an empty trolley, shovel or bulldozer drowsed in the night. At the far end of the artificial valley, lights blazed and machinery rumbled in and around a steaming, smoking black factory. Beside it sat a tumble of dark stone buildings falling down to a cluster of slave huts. The group plastered themselves to the ground as a security truck roared by on a dirt road behind the barbed wire perimeter fence.

The polluted dust of its wake settled back to the ground. The raiders slunk up to the wire. Dante checked for any dead lizards on either side, a sign the fence electrocuted. Finding nothing, one of the hita threw a small wererat against it. The animal bumped against the wire, dropped to the ground and, after a stunned moment, ran away to freedom. Dante took snips and clipped an opening in the barricade. Two hita peeled back the wire, the troop slipped through, then the creatures rolled the mesh back into place.

Flipping back his cloak, Dante struggled out of his backpack, resting it on the ground before him. He opened a side pocket, pulled out several cotton mittens, handed them to several of the hita, then put on a glove, dug out a wad of plastic explosive from the main part of his bag and separated it into several portions. The hita picked up the pieces in their mittened snouts and kneaded the explosives to soften them. Dante brought out wire and explained how to place the bombs under the bulldozers and any trucks, so they would explode when the engine was turned on. Hita flitted away across the valley.

"According to the directions in the pamphlet that I fetched, we should have enough to explode that factory and the buildings. Well, at least make a big mess of it," imaged Dante to Friend.

"Is your magic strong enough that you could fetch some of the human stores and food to our meeting place before we destroy everything? Seems a waste not to scavenge," it imaged.

"You're craving candy bars, admit it." Dante grinned, showing it unwrapping and munching an imitation chocolate and raspberry stick. Friend sent back pleasure. "I don't have enough power to fetch. You'll have to get it yourself. Every minute means danger and risk of capture." The hita acknowledged his fear, but noted the excited thrill entwined with it.

Dante closed up the pack, shouldered it and adjusted the cape over himself. A wraith and a shade drifted along the road for awhile, listened for the sound of a returning truck, then wafted down the ridges and along the tracks until they came to the slave huts.

The patrol truck stood empty at the side of the road, security busy checking the slaves and chatting to the guards patrolling the huts.

Friend crouched to crawl under the vehicle and place a bomb but Dante stopped it.

"It'll explode too soon and alert the humans," he imaged. They squatted behind a mound of dirt until the men returned to the truck and drove away. Dante felt several of the other hita appear behind him. They crept around the heap and up behind the jailers. Trunks snaked around necks and constricted. A slight struggle and the guards slumped, dead.

Dante slipped up to the first hut. A dead jailer lay beside the door. He stepped back with a shudder at the sight of the correction rod hanging from the belt, squeezed his eyes shut and turned away, shaking.

"Get rid of it," he imaged to Friend.

Two of the hita pulled the body around the side of the shed. Dante pushed down his fear and stilled his mind.

"Open," he whispered. A small black word oozed out of his cowl and arranged itself inside the thick deadbolt lock. The door clicked then creaked open by itself. He entered, Friend behind.

A dirty window at the far end let in enough light to show the sleeping bodies crowded over the floor. Behind him Friend coughed at the overpowering smell of urine and the unwashed. Gaia had smiled on him when he ended up in his own soft bed at Madams.

"The wraith that serves death, Gaia protect us," gasped a voice from the floor.

"Don't be afraid," said Dante. Ordinary speech felt thick and slow on his tongue. "I'm here to free you."

"Huh? What's going on? Shaddup." said several voices.

A black man stood. "There's iron beneath us, wraith. How'd you come here? And why? Tell Seth we're not ready for death yet."

"Speak for yourself," muttered someone.

"A hita. Behind him," crackled a voice.

"The hita are helping me," said Dante. "They won't hurt you unless you decide to hurt them."

The slaves began a hubbub of whispers.

"Shaddup," said the standing man. "You want to bring the guard?"

"You guard is dead," said Dante. "I'm repaying a kindness. The man's probably long dead now, but once in the slave pens of Mary Delight, he gave a crust of bread, a drink of water and a kind word to a dying mute. Those slaves, except for the mute, were sold here, so I've come to free you."

The man looked Dante up and down, spent a few moments examining the bottom of the cloak then peered into the cowl. "Not many wraiths have bare feet. You're a man. No magic here. That hita a trained pet of yours?"

Dante pulled back his hood. "I'm that mute slave. The hita's a friend of mine."

"Just you and that creature are going to free us. Just like that," snorted the slave.

"Yes," said Dante. He dragged the cowl back over his head. "Freedom."

The word drifted to the man's shoulder, hung in the air for a few moments then dissolved in his upper arm. The slave grabbed his arm as his chip popped out with a burst of blood to land on the floor. Stunned silence filled the hut.

"You idiot," said the man after a few moments. "You've just set off the alarm. You think a chip's not set to go off after it flips out?"

"I know that. Your master thinks you're snug asleep." Dante looked at the rest. "There's not much time. We've got to get you all away and blow up the factory. After I remove the chips, a hita will lead you to safety." The slaves scrambled up and pushed towards him. "Woah. Stand still. I can't get the chips out with you moving around."

"Fall in," shouted their leader, his hand still clutching his arm. The men shuffled into a rough formation and he turned to Dante. "That's better. Do your miracle."

"Free at last. Free at last. Hail Gaia, we're free at last." The ancient words wavered and expanded until a smog blackened the gloom. Brief shouts and yells then a chorus of joy.

"Shhh, you'll bring trouble. Silence as we go," said the man. "What about the other guards?"

"They're dead. But not the ones in the truck. Move."

He jumped to one side as the slaves rushed out into the night. A hita moved off back to the fence with most following. Three or four brawny men, including the leader, milled around the hut entrance.

"Only you and the hita?" asked one of them. Dante nodded.

"Jerome," said the head slave thrusting out his hand.

"Dan," said Dante giving it a shake. He pulled back his cape, lowered the back pack, knelt down and opened it.

"Those your explosives?" asked Jerome. "I'm the blast man. Place the stuff after these clowns have hammered the hole." His men smirked. "Let me have a look." He pulled out a package with a timer and detonator and examined it. "Not bad." He fiddled with the bomb. "You know where to put this stuff so the factory goes up?"

"Uh, not really," admitted Dante. "We thought this was an underground mine."

Jerome sent him a thoughtful look. "Let me and my boys do your job. No one's going to notice a few more laborers but they sure will notice hita. You free the rest and go. Where's the break in the fence?"

"Up along the road, at the top of the ridges. We'll put the bombs round the slave huts, so they'll think you're dead."

"Who are you? Not just Dan, I warrant," said Jerome. "You're some wizard, creating magic over an iron deposit. And hita setting bombs. Don't know why the story about the retard slave boy. But he'd be long dead, you're not him."

"Let's go. Meet you on the other side of the fence, " said Dante.

Jerome picked up the pack and ran off towards the factory, his men behind. Dante repeated his task at the next two huts while the hita set the bombs. He opened the door to the final smaller shed.

Light from a single kerosene lantern sent a warm glow through the crowded but orderly room. Men lay in rows on the dirt, on either side of a beaten path down the middle. Some favored bandaged limbs, some lay groaning, one or two searched for death's gate. Almost at Dante's feet crouched a gaunt, scraggly bearded man dressed in a dingy overshirt and pants instead of a slave's overall. A worn stethoscope dangled from his neck. The man gently washed the fevered face of a young slave.

The boy looked up at Dante and cried, "It's Adonis. Come to take me home!"

The man glanced around and stood, his face full of anger. "Who the hell are you?"

Friend sent an image of a guard and aimed its rifle. The sick stared at them. Dante waved the hita back, pulled the cowl over his head and started his chant.

"Free at last, free at last, Hail Gaia, we're free at last."

The words drifted and spread, then floated down onto the slaves. Cries of surprise and scrambling to stop the blood.

"Sire. Doctor Luke," whimpered the boy, clutching his arm.

The man glanced down, "It's all right, Toby." His eyes, full of speculation, returned to Dante's shadowed face. After a few moments he spoke,

His words shook Dante. "No, I, no. I'm Dan." He leaned down and pulled the doctor up. "Don't kneel like that. Stand up. You're a free man. I'm just returning a favor. Follow the hita outside the door, they'll lead you to freedom. Uh." He turned to Friend and imaged rounding up some able bodied slaves to help the sick. The hita headed out the door. "Can everyone in here walk? Do you have any stretchers? This place is going to explode in a few minutes."

"There's some at the end," said the doctor.

Friend returned with two other hita and several men who helped load up the seriously ill starting from the back of the room. The walking patients struggled out the door.

"There's no stretchers left," said one of the slaves when they got to Toby.

"I'm going with Adonis. Don't worry about me," whispered the boy. He closed his eyes with a look of peace.

"Don't die, not now," said Luke. "We're getting away from the iron. I can heal you." He put his thin arms around his patient and struggled to lift. "Damn place stealing all my strength. Can't even carry a kid.

"Here. Let me," said Dante.

The doctor moved back. Toby opened eyes glinting with fever and smiled. He raised his arms. Dante bent down, gathered him up and slung him to his shoulder. The boy rested his hot dry cheek against his savior's neck and reached out to his doctor. "See. Adonis has me." Luke clutched his hand for a second then turned away, his eyes full of tears. They rushed out into the night.

The security truck rattled back over the hill and stopped at the sight of the last of the fleeing slaves. Hita jumped the guards and snapped their necks before they could raise an alarm. Jerome and his men came rushing round the huts.

"Quick. Take that truck," shouted Jerome. "Basil from the other shift's going to pull the alarm, then boom!"A siren screeched and whooped.

"No, not the truck," yelled Dante. "They'll know where we went. On foot." They dashed up the road to the fence. Dante turned back to face the mine. "Shake the dust from your feet." He nodded at Jerome, Luke and the men. "Go on, do it." They shuffled and shook. "Shake the dust from your feet." Tiny words kicked and swirled the dust up into a gritty cloud that brushed down the road and over the ridges, removing all traces of the fleeing crowd. A flare and a blast ripped open the night. Heat blew against their faces.

They rushed through the fence and the hita rolled back the wire. Over the barren hills they ran, the following cloud whipping away their footsteps then dying at the edge of the knarled trees. Their panting echoed in the dead forest as they rushed on. They reached the normal growing expanse of the untouched bush.

Luke slowed then stopped, an odd look on his face. "My magic. It's back! Praise Gaia, a prisoner no longer." He laughed and danced a jig.

Dante stumbled against a tree, overwhelmed with exhaustion. Toby had grown heavier and heavier as they ran, until now his rescuer could hardly carry him. Dante lowered the unconscious boy to the ground. Luke leapt to his side with a cry of joy and knelt beside his patient. His hands moved back and forth over the prone body, a murmuring chant adding rhythm to his movements. Toby shook and moaned.

Dante leaned forward, wheezing, hand and stump against his knees, fighting off a stitch in his side. Creating magic over iron had taken more out of him than he cared to admit.

"How far to the camp?" he imaged.

"The moons at the top of the sky," imaged Friend.

Dante showed himself falling asleep on the spot. "Damn," he said aloud.

"You all right?" asked Jerome.

"It's nothing. You go on with the hita. In a few hours you'll come to a camp under an overhang of rocks. You can stay there for the day, it's fairly safe. We have some food and stuff to help you on your way."

His magic spent, Dante's left arm waved uselessly as his right hand fumbled with the ties at his neck. He flung the suddenly heavy, unbearably itchy cloak to the ground. A deep spectral groan rumbled along the cloth as the cape inflated. Jerome and his men moved back in fear. Luke, deep in healing concentration, his patient now still and silent, paid no attention.

"Never again," said the shine.

"No, no. Never again. It takes too much," whispered Dante.

The world swirled. A repetitive thump pounded in his ears. Planes had found them. He'd blown it. Rotten and the correction rod leered in his mind.

"I'm not the bodhisattva. I'm not Adonis reborn," he said. "I'm a golem."

Jerome and the freed slaves stared from him to the wraith and back again. Dante slid down the tree, landing on a soft hummock. Friend's images appeared in shadows, he couldn't make them out. He sent back pictures of the hita killing him when the soldiers surrounded them then looked up at Jerome. "I'm a golem, a zombie. Understand? Don't let them capture me alive. They'll order me to torture and murder you all." He stared at Toby resting in a haggard Luke's arms, his face pale and gaunt but the fever gone, and gave a deep sigh. "I'll do it. I'm lower than the worms that eat the dead. I'll do it." Dante slumped over sideways, asleep.