It hadn't taken long before Tony's phone was ringing, and he had Christian on the line.

"Where is this Rhy'Din?" Christian asked, in a thick French-Canadian accent from somewhere on the other side of the Nexus.

How it all worked, Tony wasn't sure, but the connection was crystal clear, as if Christian was just across town, not halfway across the universe. Magic, he supposed. There was no other explanation.

"Is it in Russia?" Christian continued. "You know how I feel about going there. It is too far, mon ami. Too far. I prefer to stay on this continent."

Tony knew it was Christian's fear of flying that kept him in North America. It was a well-known fact that if given a choice, he preferred to drive rather than fly, despite the fact that flying was statistically safer. He wondered what the man would think of traveling through a portal, if he didn't like flying.

Despite all that, Tony chuckled. "No, amico, it's not in Russia, and you don't have to fly to get there. I can practically guarantee you a cure if you come here and a choice spot in my dance company." It wasn't really a company yet - it was too small for that - but Tony was hoping it would be someday, if only he could find experienced dancers willing to stay with the troupe longer than a year, especially ballerinas.

There was a long silent pause on the other end of the phone, while Tony presumed Christian was considering his offer. Tony knew Irina had told his friend all this already, but he had insisted on speaking to Tony directly before making a decision.

"They say I will never dance again, Antony," the other dancer replied at last with an audible sigh. "What am I to do' The ballet is all I know. Do you have an opening for a teacher" Perhaps I can help you there."

Tony frowned, hearing the hopelessness and the desolation in his friend's voice. He understood only too well what he'd feel like if he'd been in his shoes. It was like a death sentence for a dancer, especially one who had devoted his whole life to the ballet, as Christian had.

"Tell you what ..." Tony started. This was where it got tricky. He was going to have to not only convince his friend to trust him, but to put his entire life in Tony's hands. "Let me bring you here. Talk to the ....the doctors. See what they have to say, and if they can't do anything for you, I will find you a job. It's a win-win situation, amico. But do me a favor in the meantime. Send me your application for open auditions and don't mention a word of your injuries. I'll do the rest."

"You are not hearing me, Antony. I can't audition because I can't dance. Even if these doctors of yours can help, it will take months to get back into condition. You are asking for a miracle, mon ami."

Tony could hear the frown in his friend's voice and felt a surge of almost brotherly sympathy. "Perhaps a miracle is what I am offering," he admitted tentatively. "How does the old saying go - nothing venture, nothing gained" Just trust me on this. I promise you won't regret it."

"Tres bien," Christian replied with a sigh, as if he was too tired to argue about it anymore. "But I am not flying!"

Tony chuckled at his friend's continued insistence that flying was dangerous. "You will not have to fly. I promise. I will send Irina for you in the morning. Be packed and ready. And Tian' Keep an open mind. Rhy'Din is a very different sort of place."

"So long as I don't have to fly there," Christian assured him. "Tell Irina I will be ready. Merci, mon ami. I will see you in a few days. Au revoir."

"Ciao, amico. I will see you soon." And with that said, the line went dead. It was Tony's turn to sigh with worry. He just hoped he was doing the right thing. Time would tell, he supposed.