Karla, can you hear me? Whisper softly if you can.> A voice disturbed Karla from her fitful slumber. Struggling to wake up, she blinked bleary eyes. Her arms and back ached, she’d fallen asleep in a sitting position, her arms held above her head by short chains attached to the side of a wagon. She’d not been able to find a comfortable sleeping position, and the cold night air had chilled her.

“Rex?” She called out softly, confused. Had she dreamed it?

Sort of.> The voice of Rex replied in her ear, Remember, speak softly.>

“Sort of?” Karla asked, puzzled. Rex’s voice, transmitted to the speakers in her ears, sounded the same, other than being a bit flatter and more monotone than normal for the excitable dragon.

It’s complicated, but Rex is actually still asleep. I’m a voice in Rex’s head. You could say I’m something like a spirit that shares his body and helps him by giving him that special “technology” magic we told you about.> Idea explained, trying to simplify things so Karla could understand, but when she failed to respond, the AI simply pressed on. One of my friends, a spirit like me that lives inside a bird, is going to give you the keys to your cuffs. You need to free yourself then come free me by getting this collar off so Rex can wake up.>

“What should I call you, spirit?” Karla asked softly.

My name is Idea. We’ve spoken before, Rex sometimes lets me borrow his voice. I’m usually the one that explains things. But, Rex does most of the talking.>

Karla was silent for a while, thinking about this new information. But then she shook her head, “We can talk about this later,” She announced in a whisper, “for now, I will trust you. We have to escape first.”

Ok good, I promise I’ll answer your questions when we are free.> Idea told her. The bird is called Sixxy, she can understand you, but cannot speak.>

Sixxy had explained that the directive in question could be summed up as; Do not communicate with natives or allow a native to observe the use of abilities beyond that of a normal bird. This was an oversimplification, as the directive was actually a full subroutine, not a simple sentence. The Idea series had interpreted the directive to mean that they could be seen doing anything a well trained bird could do, including small things like using body language to respond to statements or questions.

This meant Sixxy was able to steal the key and had no qualms about putting the key in Karla’s manacles even as she watched in amazement. “Thank you,” Karla whispered. Sixxy hopped to the wooden rail of the wagon Karla had been chained to and bobbed her head as if to say, “you’re welcome”.

Directives weren’t really laws, they were something more akin to strong personality traits; an expression of what an AI wanted or didn’t want to do, impossible to ignore. As strong as a phobia or an obsession. Idea, for example, was driven to want to explore or learn new things because of it’s last remaining directive. Directives could be overcome with considerable effort, for a while, but not forever.

Sixxy’s directive to not reveal itself resulted in the small bird being extremely shy around “natives”. For that reason, Idea wasn’t surprised when Sixxy sent a private message; I’ve done my part! The rest is up to the three of you. I will be watching from the trees!> and flew away as Karla used her teeth to unlock her mantacles. The magpie, whose otherwise normally colorful feathers had been replaced with black metallic ones, vanished into the night.

Finally free from her restraints, Karla looked around. She was next to a covered wagon in the middle of a large group of wagons and tents. Rueban had not stayed still after capturing Rex, he had joined a caravan. There were a few people still keeping watch, but they were mostly focused on watching from threats from outside threatening the sleeping travelers and merchants, not a single unimportant slave’s escape. Only one person noticed Karla’s escape.

Nightshade materialized in front of Karla, fading into view as she dropped her invisibility spell, startling the poor catgirl into a muffled meep of surprise. “Ah, has someone taught you lockpicking?” The shadow assassin asked in amusement. “It looks like the kitten isn’t as toothless as I thought.”

Karla looked ready to bolt, but Idea had told her that Rex was in the wagon nearly directly past the smirking assassin. There was no way Karla could abandon Rex who’d only been captured because he’d tried to rescue her. “Not going to run?” the amused assassin asked. “You don’t even have a weapon. Here.” Nightshade drew a knife and tossed it at Karla’s feet.

Shivering in fear, Karla picked up the knife and held it, pointed at Nightshade. Karla had no illusions that she could win, not even if she were armed and Nightshade appeared unarmed. Karla could feel the confidence and poise of the middle aged woman, she was better than ten times higher level than Karla, a skilled veteran assassin. Karla was a level three dragoon and a skinny thirteen year old girl. But Karla couldn’t run. She’d rather die here than leave Rex behind.

“Brave little kitten.” Nightshade said with approval. “Stupid, but brave. Much like your pet dragon. You know, that “Rex” of yours could have won, beaten all three of us? He was more dangerous than I’d been expecting, it was a close fight. But you know why he lost?” The assassin asked.

“No?” Karla asked, curious despite her fear.

“He lacked resolve. He had a chance to kill my companion, a paladin. But he didn’t, instead he poisoned the paladin with some sort of sleeping drug, then rushed past him to put the mage to sleep with some sort of gas. I’d almost gotten the collar on him, but I wasn’t expecting that gas, and I nearly passed out. But the paladin had a spell to cure poison, used it on himself, ran over then used it on me. If Rex had taken the time to finish the paladin properly while he was on his knees, the dragon would have won.” The assassin explained.

Karla’s eyes were huge in amazement. Rex had almost won against three adventurers as strong as this fearsome woman?

Nightshade continued. “So my question to you, little kitten, is do you have the resolve to do what needs to be done to escape? Because, I’m going to let you prove it.” Turning to a nearby tent, Nightshade lifted a flap and spoke loudly to wake the occupant. “Hey it’s your turn to keep watch!” Then, with a wink, Nightshade turned to Karla and faded away from sight, leaving Karla alone to face the tent's occupant.

With a muffled curse, Blake poked his head out of his tent, climbed out, then turned to stare at Karla, stilled armed with a knife, her face pale with fear, but standing her ground. Blake’s face twisted into a joyful grin, and he reached back into the tent to pick up a whip. “Look what a gift that damn assassin has given me; a runaway slave to punish.” He said softly. Blake didn’t plan to raise the alarm, he planned to deal with this personally, and he planned to enjoy it.