Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

This is a side-story to my first Fire Emblem fic, 'To Lands Still Unknown'. While knowledge of that story is not necessary to enjoy this one, it is recommended for maximum enjoyment.

For readers of 'To Lands Still Unknown', this is set between 'Clarion' and 'Zephyr'. I hope you enjoy this!

Passports, Please?

Mark stopped and admired the fortress marking the Bern-Lycia border. "Nice," he said. "Easily defensible, backed by the mountains to prevent sneaking in from any way but the front, and the soldiers look alert."

"The crossing guards at the border are comprised of both citizens of Lycia and Bern," Kent said. "They are often called on to stop fugitives from escaping into the other country, and it is thought that having members from both countries will ensure fairness. Because of their job, our traveling papers signed by Marquess Caelin are crucial."

"Strange," Lyn mused. "The crossing back at the border between Bern and Sacae only had soldiers of Bern, and they asked for no papers."

"They probably didn't worry as much about Sacae," Sain said. "Sacae doesn't have nearly as much of a history of trying to slip armies into its neighboring countries as Bern and Lycia do."

"Well, let's get out the papers," Mark said, noticing the soldier who was riding up. "Sain, you had them last, didn't you?"

"Fear not, Mark!" Sain reached into his bag. "For, I have the papers allowing our travel between countries…right…" The knight trailed off, and Kent frowned.

"That silence is ominous," the red-haired cavalier said. "Sain, you do have the papers, don't you?" By Sain's panicked look, he didn't.

"You had them yesterday!" Mark exclaimed. "I saw you check that you had them when we reached the crossing inn!"

"Is there a problem, gentlemen?" the guard asked, hearing Mark's last outburst. "You do have your papers in order, don't you?"

"Oh, come on, Kyle!" Sain exclaimed. "You saw us pass through here just last month! I remember that you were the one who checked our papers personally."

"Be as that may, Sain, you can't expect me to just let you through without your papers, can you?" the guard demanded. "If I get caught letting even one person through, it's worth my life!"

"You can't expect him to break regulations like that because you were careless, Sain," Kent added. "Even if it would have made things easier for us."

"Thank you, Sir Kent," the guard said in obvious relief. "I knew I could count on you to see it my way."

"Think nothing of it, Sir Kyle," Kent said. "I am sure, however, that our new companions, Serra and Erk, will have papers for crossing the border."

"Serra should have them," Erk said. "My traveling identification was sent ahead to Ostia, to ensure that I completed my mission." He looked at Serra with a long-suffering look. "My mentor thought that without proper motivation, I might be tempted to break my contract."

"I can't imagine why," Serra frowned. "Any man should be happy to spend five minutes in my company!"

"I know," the mage deadpanned. "It's for the next few weeks after those first five minutes that we need that motivation."

"Poor Erk," Serra said, patting his cheek. "Clearly being around my beauty has addled your wits to the point where you try to insult me to get my attention." As he began to stammer denials, the cleric pursed her lips in thought. "Actually…I think I left my papers back in Etruria."

"What?!" came the chorus.

"Well, Erk's mentor came with us to the border to see us off, and the nice guards there didn't ask us for our papers," she said. "I think I left them with Lord Pent, to prove that I was who I said I was."

"How…how did you …how could you even get past the border without…gah?" Mark took a deep breath, before he continued to stammer. "Florina, surely you have something, as you came from Ilia?"

"Um…not exactly?" The girl seemed reluctant to speak, which was understandable given the waves of disapproval radiating off of Kent and Mark. "As a Pegasus knight of Ilia, I'm given more leeway over my travel through Ilia's borders. I only left to visit Lyn in Sacae, so I didn't bring my papers, in case I lost them, or they were stolen."

"Anyone else?" Mark glanced at the remaining two members of their group in desperation. "Anyone?" Dorcas shook his head, and Wil fidgeted uncomfortably.

"Well, sirs and ladies, I'm sorry to say this," the guard said slowly, "but I cannot permit you to enter Lycia until you present papers signed by a lord, authorizing you access."

"Sain…" Kent began to growl.

"Let's not panic," Lyn said, stopping the murder before it began. "You had them when we stayed at the crossing inn, right, Sain?" At his nod, she smiled. "All we have to do is check back at the inn. You probably left them in your room or something similar. We'll be fine when we come back with the papers, right?"

"Indeed, miss," the guard told her. "Once you return with your traveling papers, I will be happy to allow you across the border."

"Let's get going," Lyn said to the group. "The sooner we find those papers, the sooner I can see Grandfather." As the group began to move out, Mark found himself walking next to Kent. "Just in case, what are our chances of getting across that border without the papers?" he asked.

"Slim to none," Kent promptly replied. "I am told that there are ways through the mountains through which a few men can pass, but it must be done quickly, as patrols of the wyvern knights of Bern fly through regularly. Usually, when mercenaries and such wish to pass, they either pay the local lords an outrageous sum for 'one-time' passes, or they pass a few at a time through the mountains."

"An outrageous sum?" Mark asked. "How much?"

"Each one-time pass is only issued for one person, and it costs five hundred gold each pass," Kent explained. "Neither country likes the idea of powerful mercenaries or wealthy merchants moving to the other country."

"Apparently not," Mark said, wide-eyed. "We don't have four thousand gold on hand, Kent."

"No, we don't. If the worst comes to pass, we can stay in Bern for a while and take jobs as mercenaries until we earn enough money," Sain said, riding up behind them.

"We need to get the Lady to Lord Hausen as soon as possible," Kent said, frowning. "I heard some disquieting rumors about the marquess being ill at the inn, so we need to speed our journey." He faced Mark directly. "If the worst comes to pass, we cannot stay in Bern.

"If the worst comes to pass, wewill need every scrap of your tactical knowledge to get us through those mountain passes."

-

"I'm sorry, milady," the serving girl said, bobbing a curtsy. "Nobody's cleaned your rooms yet. Anything that you left should still have been there."

"Are you sure?" Lyn pressed. "Nobody exited carrying a scroll, or a bundle of papers, or something of the like?"

"No," the serving girl said. "I would have seen them if they had. I've been down here, at the door, cleaning all morning. I even wished you good day, remember?"

"I do," Lyn sighed. "Thank you." She walked up the stairs, and entered the room that Kent and Sain had shared last night. "The maid didn't see anyone."

"Where could you have put it, Sain?" Mark demanded. "I know you had it when we rented the rooms! We've retraced our steps exactly, and by all accounts, we were the only travelers headed towards Lycia, so you couldn't have just dropped it!"

"I don't know!" Sain seemed as frustrated as the rest of them. "I kept it on my person when we went for dinner, just in case, and I didn't take it off of me until I reached my room again!"

"How sure of that are you?" Kent interjected. "I don't remember you taking it out when you got back to the room."

Sain paled. "I must have done it, because it wasn't on me the next morning…"

"You were robbed," Mark said bluntly. "They waited until you kicked back that last pint of ale, and they took our traveling papers off of you."

"Who could have taken it, though?" Dorcas asked from his corner in the room. "I was there with Sain, helping him to his room. We didn't run into anyone on our way out of the dining area."

"So it was probably taken while he was drinking," Mark said. "Someone getting drunk isn't going to notice a piece of paper being taken."

Sain sniffed. "I wasn't that drunk."

"But that one waitress kept on coming up to check on you," Dorcas remembered. "She kept on getting rather close, asking if you wanted refills."

"It's unlikely that you would have noticed if she took the opportunity to divest you of the papers," Kent concluded.

"Kent!" Sain cried. "While I appreciate the ladies perhaps more than the next fellow, I would never do anything that careless! And I certainly would have noticed if she tried to take the papers from me! It's not like I left them on the table, ripe for the taking!"

"We should check with the mistress of the inn, then," Lyn said, ignoring him. "She would know where the waitress could be found."

"Sounds like a plan," Mark agreed. "Let's go find her."

"Ha," Sain sighed, shoulders slumping. "No one ever trusts me…" Slowly, they trooped out of the room.

"Excuse me?" Mark said to the woman at the front desk. "I'd like to know where one of your waitresses who was working last night lives…"

"If she didn't give you her own personal information, you're not welcome," the woman growled. "Men like you, always showing up and frightening away the help with your flirting, you're the absolute worst."

"That's not it," Lyn said, as Mark shot a glance at Sain. "We think that this waitress took something extremely important from our comrade, and we need to get it back. If it makes you feel better, you can accompany us to her residence…"

The woman gave Lyn a long, careful look, before leaning over the counter. "Which girl?"

"She had long, wavy black hair," Sain spoke up, "and beautiful brown eyes. She was wearing pink and red."

"Oh, you mean Amy." For some reason, Mark shivered at the innkeeper's words. "She sleeps in a room here. I'll take you there." She glared at Sain. "No funny business!"

"None whatsoever," Lyn assured her. "We just want to get his item back."

-

"I'm telling you, I have no idea what you're talking about!" the girl protested. "I've never even seen a set of traveling papers! They're expensive, you know?"

"We were told that you paid Sain here a lot of attention," Mark said to the wall behind her. For whatever reason, he was unable to look her in the face without flinching. "He had the papers when he went down to dinner, he didn't when he came back up. It's understandable why we would come to ask you."

"It's not like I wanted to," Amy said. "Your friend over at the other table? The one with the grey hair? He told me how this guy just lost his girlfriend, and asked me to make sure he had all the ale he wanted. If I had the chance, I would have been spending time with the usual big-tippers!"

"What friend?" Kent demanded.

Amy snorted. "You know, the guy with the long, grey hair and stubble? Really ugly appearance?"

"I have no idea who you're talking about," Sain said, frowning. "We just arrived here yesterday."

The girl gaped. "You mean that I wasted the entire night's worth of tips for some fake sob story?"

"I'm afraid so," Mark said. "My condolences." He walked out of the room, and fought the temptation to bang his head on the wall. "Do you know of anyone with such an appearance?" he asked the innkeeper.

The woman laughed. "Kid, people like them, they come and go all the time. My guess is your guy's probably a mile past the border by now."

"Thank you so much," Sain was saying as he followed Lyn and Kent out the door. "I hope that this makes up for it." He turned to Mark. "You know, it wouldn't have hurt you to give Amy a little extra because of her slow night."

"Why should I, when I have you to do that for me?" Mark asked him.

"And I told you that I would have noticed if she tried to take the papers," Sain added. "You and Kent, always thinking the worst of me!"

"You usually prove us right," Kent said, not really paying attention. "Well, Mark? Do you have any ideas on the…alternative plan that we discussed?"

Mark sighed. "I'm going to check the taverns around town. Someone's probably done it before, and if they have, they'll be telling tales about it." He glanced at the innkeeper, and she took the hint, leaving. "I've heard that wyverns don't have that good of night vision, so we'll be leaving after sunset. See if you can find any maps or such."

"I don't think I want to know what you're planning," Lyn said slowly, "but it's going to involve loss of life or limb, isn't it?"

"Don't worry," Mark said cheerfully. "If we plan this carefully, there's only a medium-sized chance that we'll end up as wyvern feed, instead of a large one." He ducked out the door to the main part of the inn as Lyn turned on Kent and Sain, the intent to interrogate clear on her face.

"At least, I hope that they'll be telling tales," he muttered to himself as he walked. "Most of it is as likely as not to be false, and the few who made it may actually keep their mouths shut. Unlikely, but…" He sighed as he entered the first tavern he came to.

The bartender looked up from where he was cleaning glasses. "A bit early to be drinking, isn't it?"

"I just found out the price of one-way travel papers," Mark lied, mentally hitting his head. So caught up in the need to solve this that he hadn't even thought about the fact that nobody else would be drinking at this point! "I think that it's a perfect time to start drinking."

The bartender sighed. "Sit down," he said, gesturing to a stool. As Mark complied, the bartender shook his head. "You're new in town, aren't you?"

"How can you tell?" Mark asked.

The bartender smirked. "Nobody who's been here before actually goes to the lord to get their papers," he explained. "By the time you get in to see him, you've already spent half of your purse on bribes, and then he tacks on what he calls 'a little extra' for his 'trouble'. I hear it's the same in Araphen."

"It is," Mark said, deducing that Araphen was the parallel town in Lycia. Thank goodness they hadn't gone to the lord. "My boss said he'd never pay that much again, but…"

"Look, I feel for you," the bartender said. "I remember when I was your age, and all I wanted to do was travel the world. You can see how well that went," he added, gesturing to the room. "Anyways, everyone who actually wants to get through the border buys their papers off of a forger."

"A forger?" Mark asked, intrigued.

"Yeah," the bartender agreed. "They take between two and three hundred apiece for their one-way passes, as opposed to the five hundred 'plus expenses', and in return everyone buys from them."

"Your local lord must object," Mark said wryly, as his mind was racing. Three hundred apiece for the eight of them came out to twenty-four hundred gold. Given the current amount of money they had on hand, they only needed a few hundred more gold to be able to meet that price. They'd have to live off the land for a while, but they could get into Lycia…

"The lord doesn't know anything," the bartender snorted. "He thinks that travel is just down. Here." He grabbed a piece of paper and wrote something on it. "Take that to the Hawk's Roost, down three streets from here, at around…say, five. Tell them Harold sent you, and they'll let you into the auction."

"Auction?" Mark questioned. "I thought you were talking about a forger."

"They auction their passes off sometimes," the bartender said. "It also lets them display their pieces to the public. Sometimes thieves come down there as well, auctioning actual passes to the forgers."

"Interesting," Mark said, smiling. He had a way into Lycia that didn't involve them becoming wyvern food! "Would it matter if I brought the guy who takes care of our money?"

The bartender shook his head. "They check to make sure you're not a member of the guards, or anything like that, but other than that, you could be a horse as long as you bought something."

"Thanks, Harold," Mark said, taking the paper and leaving ten gold in its place. "I'll remember this."

-

"Why aren't we letting the rest know where we're going?" Lyn asked, a traveler's cloak hiding her face much in the same way Mark's was. "I don't like this…"

"Relax, Lyn," Mark said, double-checking the sign with the poorly-drawn hawk on it. "I am almost completely certain that we're not going to come to any harm here. Besides, Kent and Sain would have objected."

"Why?" Lyn demanded. "I thought you said we were just going to get supplies to cross the border with!"

"We are," Mark responded, knocking and sliding the paper through the slot that opened up. "It's just not very legal supplies." At her frown, he said, "Besides, what's better – getting something slightly illegal or being eaten by wyverns?"

"So, some kind of wyvern repellant?" she asked as the door opened and a grizzled man stared out at the two of them.

"Not quite," Mark said to her quietly, before telling the man, "Harold sent us."

"What's your purpose – buying or selling?" the man asked, somewhat less suspicious. He stood aside to let them enter.

"Buying," Mark told him as they stepped into the grungiest place he had seen yet. At least a year's worth of filth was caked on the walls, and the floor was stained with what appeared to be a mixture of some kind of drink, urine, and blood.

"I think," Lyn said slowly, looking around, "that we should have gone with being eaten by wyverns. What are we getting from here, again?"

"Trust me," Mark told her. "When do the auctions start?"

"They're just about to start up," the man told him. "Just go sit wherever you can find a chair." As Mark and Lyn made their way over to a table, someone stood up on the bar. "Attention, all!" he yelled. "The auctions are now open! Starting off with a one-way pass by Wilkes himself, the master of forgery! Let me remind you that no-one has yet been able to tell the difference between his works and those of our 'dear' Lord Kennan!"

Mark winced as Lyn kicked him hard under the table. "Slightly illegal?" she hissed. "Mark, this is a den of lawbreakers!"

"Like I said before, it's this or the wyverns," he said. "I'd prefer to deal with unsavory characters and get all of us across the border alive and well, instead of recuperating for a month because we got savaged by wyverns!"

"Two hundred fifty!" the man next to them yelled.

"Two hundred fifty five," another called out.

"Look," Mark said as Lyn winced from the noise, "if you really don't want to do this, just sit here and try to ignore it. But I intend to get us all to Caelin, one way or another."

"Sold to the Fallatin mercenaries for two hundred and seventy gold!" the man at the bar called out. He climbed down, and another man took his place. Apparently, there's an individual seller for each forger? "Next item, four one-way passes made by Zama, expert forger, perfect for getting you across the border!"

"That is, if you don't mind being caught a few seconds after you cross!" someone yelled. Everyone laughed.

"Fine," Lyn said as someone finally bought the passes for eight hundred twenty five gold. "But I still don't like it."

"I don't expect you to," Mark said, eyeing the long-haired man who was making his way to the bar. "I don't like it myself. We'll just get this done, then get out of here."

"May I present to you all," the long-haired man started, "a set of permanent papers?" The bar got silent as everyone turned to face him. "Not a forgery, not a trick, but one set of permanent papers for crossing the border!"

"Come off it, Langley!" someone shouted. "There's no way that you got your hands on a set of permanent papers!"

"I kid you not," Langley said. "Mistook them for a one-way set and took them off a sucker just last night!" Lyn inhaled sharply, and began to stand up.

Mark tugged her down. "I have an idea," he whispered. "One that doesn't involve us getting beaten up by the pub."

"Make it quick," Lyn growled, as someone asked what the catch was.

"The catch?" Langley sighed. "Single person, and you have to take a woman with you. It's a set of papers for one 'Lady Lyndis' and her escort."

The sense of excitement that was building up in the room deflated quickly. "It's not worth it if it's only you and some woman," one of them grumbled.

"But it is interesting," one of the forger-sellers from earlier said. "Two hundred, for curiosity's sake."

"Three hundred," another forger-seller spoke. "For your trouble."

As the price went up to three hundred fifty, Mark blinked in realization. The papers weren't of much use to anyone but them, and he was lucky that they hadn't caught on that 'escort' could mean more than one person, but if the forgers had the signature and seal, they could create a permanent forgery with different words.

"Four hundred!"

"Four fifty!"

"One thousand," Mark called out idly. The bidding stopped as all heads turned to face him.

"You sure there, mate?" Langley asked, suspicious. "That's an awful lot of money for a one-person pass. You could probably get it cheaper even by going to Lord Kennan."

"Florina and I are guarding a merchant caravan," he said, indicating Lyn. "They think that it's not worth their time to pay a penny more than they have to for us lowly mercenaries. We'll see who's laughing when we don't have to pay for passes every time and they do." A murmur of agreement ran through the room at the thought of money-grubbing merchants who valued their gold more than their lives.

"Do you even have that much money?" Langley persisted. "Seems expensive for a two-person mercenary group."

"Here." Mark tossed a bag at Langley, who caught it reflexively. "That's five hundred gold there – all I brought with me." Lyn gave him a look of suspicion – she knew, after all, that the tactician was the only one who handled their money, and that he had much more on him – but Mark ignored it. "Half here, half when we get back to my room at the inn."

"S-sold," Langley choked out, opening the bag. "You want to go back to your room now, sir?"

"Sure," Mark shrugged. "We're done here, anyways. Come on, Florina." A wicked grin, hidden from everyone but Mark, spread across Lyn's face as she caught on to Mark's plan.

-

"How far is this inn, anyways?" Langley complained. "Seems like we've been walking forever. Couldn't you have picked one closer to the Hawk's Roost?"

"We could take the money back right here and now," Mark suggested. "Leave you with the pass."

"No, that's alright!" the man said hurriedly. "It's just pretty far, that's all I'm saying."

"How'd you get the papers in the first place?" Lyn asked, eyes glinting.

"Aw, it was simple, sweetheart," Langley said. "Saw this guy had a pass tucked into his shirt, so I told the waitress a story about how my mate had just lost his girl. Once he was drunk enough, I took the papers when I bumped into him as he was leaving."

"Clever. We're here." Mark opened the door and walked in next to Langley.

"Mark?" Kent asked from his seat next to Sain. "What is this?"

"Hey," Langley said, frowning. "You're the guy…" Eyes widening, he turned to run, only for Lyn to hit him over the head with the hilt of her sword.

"Take that," she smirked. "And I'm not your sweetheart."

"What are you doing?!" Kent yelled as Mark began to look through the other man's clothes. "You bring a complete stranger here, knock him unconscious, and now you're robbing him in front of us?!"

"We're going to have to leave quickly, before someone comes looking for him," Mark said to Lyn as he retrieved his gold and the pass. "Let's get everyone to pack their bags."

"Are you even listening to me?" Kent demanded. "What could possibly justify –"

"Here." Lyn took the papers from Mark and tossed them to Kent. "Hold on to these, please, Kent."

"And now I'm an accomplice to this," the cavalier moaned. "I obey your wishes, milady, but…" He trailed off as he opened the papers. "How did he get these?" he asked.

"Stole them off of Sain," Lyn told him. The green-haired knight peered over his comrade's shoulder. "Kent, we have to ready the group."

"Yes, Lady Lyndis," Kent agreed, still flushed. He and Sain exited the room, and Mark smirked. "I told you we could get through without becoming wyvern food."

"You had no idea that this would have happened," Lyn said flatly.

"Nope," Mark agreed. "None at all. Let's bind his wrists and ankles, so he doesn't escape and warn his friends before we're finished, shall we?"

As Lyn and Mark finished tying Langley up, the rest of the group piled into the entryway. "What's going on?" Wil asked curiously.

"We've apprehended the thief, but now we need to get moving," Lyn said. "How quickly can we get to the border, Kent?"

"Perhaps half an hour, if we hurry," he responded, as the group exited the inn.

"If we continue at the same pace, we may even make the castle town of Araphen before we stop for the night!" Sain interjected. "We could stay at the inn there –"

"No." Mark fixed him with a glare. "Until we're at least two days away from the border, no more inns." As an afterthought, he added, "And Kent holds the papers until further notice."

As Sain sighed, Mark relaxed, and walked out of the inn first. They still had all their money (minus the ten-gold tip he had given the bartender, and whatever Sain had paid the waitress) and the papers back. It looked like they were in the clear at last –

"Oi, you! Where'd Langley go?" One of the men from the Hawk's Roost approached him, and Mark saw several more behind him, wearing confused looks. "He was supposed to come out first, wasn't he?"

I just had to think it, didn't I? "So you could rob us as we exited?" Mark asked, cursing himself for not realizing that the thief would have accomplices.

"Doesn't matter if you know or not, whelp," the man sneered. "Hand over all your gold and the pass, and maybe we'll go easy on you. Or do you think you and the woman can stand up to all of us?"

"No," Mark responded. "But they can." As he stepped out of the path to the door, a fireball blasted out of it, knocking the man over with its force. As he scrambled to put the flames out, Erk stepped out, holding his Fire tome. Mark looked at it with interest. Something about that tome seems familiar…

"Lawless scum," Lyn snarled, as the rest of the group piled outside. "Get lost!"

"Not 'til we get what's ours," another bandit grimly declared. "Let's get 'em!"

"Get the horses and your Pegasus," Mark called to the cavaliers and Florina. "We'll stall them for a bit, then we need to get out of here before the rest of the town joins in!" They ran for the stables.

"Mark!" Florina yelled a moment later. "Our mounts are missing! Someone's taken them!"

"Go find them!" he yelled back. "Hurry up!"

"Hey, those outsiders are attacking our people!" Mark swore.

-

"What happened?" the guard on duty asked curiously. "I thought you were just going to get your papers, and that was yesterday."

Blood slowly coagulating in his hair, Kent grimaced and continued holding the papers out. "There was an altercation," he said. "Please approve the papers."

"Are you sure that you haven't broken any laws that I should be keeping you here for?" the guard asked suspiciously, making no move to take the papers for perusal as his eyes scanned the group. Serra was asleep on Huey's back from sheer exhaustion, soot covering her face and dress, Dorcas' shirt was bloodstained and torn even though there was no sign of any injuries, and Sain's right boot was missing.

"We didn't break any laws," Mark muttered. "We just exposed some lawbreakers. They weren't too happy about that."

"I can see," the guard said slowly. He glanced again at the group, noting Wil's arm looked like it had been bitten and that the tactician himself sported a large bruise on the right side of what was visible of his face. "Do you mind telling me how you lost your boot?" he finally asked Sain.

Sain grimaced. "That Elimine-cursed mastiff wouldn't let go," he said. "Does it really matter, Kyle?"

"Mastiff?" The guard looked at all of them with an expression that was something between confusion and dawning horror. "Sain, what were you doing that would involve a guard dog –"

"Are you going to approve the papers or not?" Mark cut him off.

Shakily, the guard pulled a stamp out of his pouch and stamped the papers. "I bid you welcome to Lycia," he finally said. "And I fervently hope that you don't get in as much trouble in Araphen as you did here."

"Don't worry," Erk assured him, rubbing at the newly-healed skin along his arm. "Marquess Araphen's manor is hardly likely to catch on fire because someone wants to smoke us out." At the look of abject horror, he protested, "What? It's not like your lord blamed us for it."

"In the end," Lyn added in a tone so low only Mark caught it. He glanced over at the girl carrying Florina, noting with pleasure that the burns were healing rapidly. Well, that answered the question if a heal staff will work on fire damage quite nicely.

"Please don't come back soon," the guard said faintly.

"Trust me," Mark told him, "we don't plan on it."