"Blasted aristocracy and their inane penchant for rhyming!" Cara thinks to herself as she readies for first watch. It's been at least a fortnight since their last escapade, since Cara was asked to don the identity of a princess to rescue Kahlan from the clutches of a maniacal ruler. To play her role well, which she did for the most part, Cara had to speak in a specific poetic pattern, and her mind since then has continued to compose poetry, driving her halfway mad. Every time Richard asks her to do something or Zedd begins thinking out loud, she creates a rhyming response, though not as formal as was required during Kahlan's rescue.

"I'll take second watch tonight," Kahlan says with a curt smile, "wake me when it's time."

Cara fights the urge to say wake you I may, wake you I might, for Zedd's lack of bathing may keep you up all night.

"Sure." she says to Kahlan.

The night air is soft and warm, small breezes touch her cheeks and hair now and again. She thinks fondly of her shift ending, when she can snuggle down within the embrace of this comforting weather.

The others settle down for a much needed rest. Cara settles upon a log for a moment, ultimately finding herself getting a little too drowsy, and decides to spend her watch walking in a circle about the clearing they've settled into. For the most part the trees are none too dense, and she navigates without having to think. Her eyes more often then not settle on the stars, filling her mind with wonder. From the depths of the vast ether do we wonder, will the whole of this one day be torn asunder? She thinks of their temporary seeker, the man who was killed after fighting so valiantly. Remorse taints her sense of wonder, she'd had feelings for him, as brief as their bond lasted. Do you spy me from above you gentle man, touching my soul in ways only you can? He'd been a brave fighter. Such a sad loss, and since then no other man has even come remotely close to capturing her heart. The faintest sound triggers her attention away from these thoughts. Animals?

She crests a small hill and sees the vague outline of a modest castle. Her eyes adjust better to the darkness and she sees what she'd heard. A small herd of cows, settling down for the evening. For cows they were petite, quite so in fact. A strange breed, but cows just the same.

Could be home to enemies, or an opposing faction. She decides to inch her way close enough to identify whose home this is. The other side of the hill slopes down quite a ways before meeting a small pond, the other side of which rests the main courtyard. Her trained feet fall without sound as she reaches the other side of the pond, a gate to the courtyard entrance blocks her further advance, though stone above it has been carved with the name of its patriarch.

" Tis I," says a smooth, well commanded voice from behind her, " Manticus Miter, at your service."

Cara spins about, her heart pounding.

"How did you do that?" Cara says, " I didn't even hear you, and I, a Mord Sith, hear everything."

"Finish reading." says Manticus, nodding back up to the carved stone. His height is incredible, though slight of build.

"Manticus Miter: Master of Shadow. So you are an Illusionist?"

"Very much so."

"An illusionist that owns cows?"

"A man must eat."

She frowns at him, her neck having to tilt up dramatically to spy his grave features: high forehead, prominent cheek bones, graying temples, and a thick, well manicured, shock of hair. He seems good natured, and Cara tends to trust her instincts. And then he lays it on her.

"I have ghosts."

"What?"

"I have ghosts and I need your help."

"I…," she looks questioningly at him, "I'm sorry I must return to my camp, they need me for watch."

"Will you come back tomorrow," he says quickly, "please, I'm desperate, and these matters are beyond my capabilities. I beg you come back tomorrow!"

"I'll ask my companions, but I make no promises."

"Are you by any chance Cara? You must be, he said you would come today."

"What are you talking about? Who said I'd come?"

"A broken soul, one of the ghosts, he says he used to be a seeker, even if for a short while."

Cara's blood runs cold, and her stomach lurches.