THREE

Gilder checked the temperature of the forge before he set the raw blade in amongst the coals. He'd been working metal since he was six, and he'd learned the hard way that only meticulous attention to detail provided satisfactory results. Yesterday he'd formed the blade itself, shaping and hammering it until he was happy. Today he needed to heat it evenly and cool it slowly, so that any stresses and weaknesses created by the previous work disappeared.

He enjoyed working in the forge. He enjoyed the physical activity and the mental concentration required. Truthfully it was the only part of the family business he did enjoy. The rest involved too much number-crunching and schmoozing customers. Nowadays his uncle rarely set foot in the forge; he employed others to craft the fabulous blades they sold all over Vana'diel.

" Not locked up in the counting house yet?" Cerenth said, from behind him.

Gilder jumped. He pulled the half-made sword out of the heat, cursing. " Damn it, Afro. Don't sneak up on me like that."

" No sneaking involved," his friend replied tartly. " I've been knocking on the door for the last ten minutes. Apparently you go deaf when you're working."

Gilder grinned. " It's called concentration."

" You might want to try some of that out in the field."

" You calling me a bad mage?"

" Nope. I'm just trying to count up how many times this past year you cast a –ga spell right after I finally managed to put all the mobs to sleep."

Gilder grinned again. " About as many times as you woke them all up yourself with a wild swing of your scythe. Besides I killed them all, didn't I?"

Cerenth grinned back." I prefer to call that luck rather than good judgement."

" Did you come here just to criticise? Or does your visit have an actual purpose?"

Cerenth moved around the table and started picking up tools one by one, checking them out, and putting them down again. " News. And the possibility of some action."

" No can do," Gilder said. " I promised I'd stay at least till the end of winter this time. Don't mess with my gear, Afro. You're muddling it up."

Up to now he'd fiercely resisted all his family's attempts to transform him into either an accountant or a salesman. At fifteen he'd abandoned any pretence of conformity and run off to become an adventurer. By twenty he was an accomplished, if somewhat foolhardy, black mage. But his mother and his uncle refused to give up, and lately he'd found himself resisting them less. After Iggy was killed, wandering and playing the hero began to lose its appeal. Or other things started to appeal more. He found he looked forward to the peace and comfort of home, if only when he was away from it. He thought about a home of his own. A family of his own. A wife. Out on the roads, all he could think about was how much he missed Igs. Damn him.

" You haven't heard the news yet," Cerenth told him.

Gilder turned away from the forge to look at his friend. Cerenth was the older of the two; how much older remained a mystery. Most of Cerenth was a mystery; where he came from, why, even if Cerenth was his true name. He had the dark skin and wiry hair of the far south, and his arms and upper body were covered with intricate tattoos. Gilder had fallen early into the habit of letting the older man make most of the decisions. It was a habit that was proving much harder to break than he had previously expected.

He shrugged. " Suppose I say I'm not interested?"

A year ago, give or take a few days, he'd met a woman. A girl. The daughter of one of his uncle's associates. He didn't work out until too late that the meeting hadn't been quite as accidental as he supposed. By then he'd already fallen under Thalia's spell, and both their families were talking excitedly about alliances, and dowries, and the creation of a great mercantile dynasty. Gilder panicked. Adventurers didn't marry. They didn't have homes and families. What the hell had he been thinking? He fled back to Jeuno and threw himself headlong into the Abyssean campaign. He didn't mention Thalia to anyone. Then, one night when he was maudlin drunk, he confessed the whole of it to Abs. And the elvaan had looked back at him and asked the only pertinent question left in the whole damned world.

" Do you love her?"

Gilder groaned. " I think so."

" What the hell are you doing here then?" Abs replied.

Gilder pulled the blade out of the coals again and plunged it into cold water. Steam hissed up and enveloped both him and Cerenth.

" Trying to make me disappear with smoke tricks isn't going to help," Cerenth said.

Gilder sighed. That was true. The other man wouldn't go away until he'd gotten what he came for. " Spit it out then. But I'm warning you, I'm dining tonight at Thalia's. All the fancy stuff. Five courses. And musicians. They're expecting a proposal. So . . ."

" Ela's back," Cerenth said.

" WHAT? When?"

" The day before yesterday."

" What happened? Is she in trouble?"

" She came to the house in Bastok," Cerenth replied, grinning like an idiot who'd just won a million on the chocobo races. " Apparently she got a summons from Aht Urghan."

" Whoa," Gil said. " What? A summons from who?"

" Whom."

" What?"

" A summons from whom, Gilder."

" Titan's balls, Afro, just tell me the damned story."

" Well, either she doesn't know who sent it or she's not saying. But my money's on Nashmeira."

" Oh great. If this involves Odin and Alexander again, you can count me out. Once was quite enough."

Cerenth was still grinning like a fool. But that was no surprise. He'd always been overly fond of phrases like 'terrible danger', 'insurmountable odds', and 'heroic recklessness'.

" Indescribable terror too," Gilder muttered, turning his attention back to the unfinished sword.

" Hmmm?"

" Nothing. I was talking to myself. Tell me one good reason why I should drop everything, upset the woman I love, and piss off her family? Just to go help El with this?"

" Is that a serious question?"

Gilder sighed. " No. I guess not. But El walked out on us, Afro. Does she really expect us all to come running just because she . . ."

" I got the distinct impression she didn't expect anything," Cerenth replied, walking towards the door. " But I'm going regardless. I'm meeting her in Jeuno in two days time. I guess it's up to you if you come or not."

He walked out of the forge, leaving his friend staring at the open door. Gilder resisted the temptation to run after him and protest that of course he was coming. He put the unfinished sword down. Then he kicked the table.

After a while he left the workshop himself, went into the house and upstairs to his rooms. He looked out of his window across the square, into the window opposite. There was a vase on the ledge there, holding a single white flower. He took the matching white flower out of the vase on his own window-sill and switched it for a red one. Then he changed out of his work clothes, picked up a cloak, and left the house again.

Winter in Windhurst was a little more temperate than elsewhere in Vana'diel. It was still cool, but there were no bitter frosts, no impenetrable banks of fog, no days when the sun barely seemed to rise and the rain tumbled down interminably. Today the sky was streaked with grey clouds, and the wind was playing pointless games with eddies of fallen leaves, but at least it wasn't gloomy. Gilder made his way to a small public garden in the south of Windhurst Waters, sat down on a bench, and waited.

The flowers in the window had been Thalia's idea. A secret code. Red meant, I need to see you. Her willingness to meet him without her parents' knowledge was just another strand in the knot of fascination she'd woven around him. She was seventeen and beautiful. But he'd met many other suitable young ladies who were equally as beautiful. Thalia, however, was also intelligent, articulate, and unconventional. She was fascinated by tales of his adventures and demanded that he teach her some spells. After a frying a few innocent insects outside the city walls with some basic fire magic, she wanted to learn sword-craft. Gilder refused – he could imagine the uproar if her parents ever found out – but he did teach her some simple hand-to-hand moves. She proved unexpectedly deft at them. And the rough-and-tumble of combat led to kissing. And kissing led to other things. She proved unexpectedly deft at those too.

He groaned aloud. How the hell was he going to tell her he had to leave again?

" You sound like you have a belly-ache," she said from behind him.

He swivelled round on the bench. " I don't know about a belly-ache. But I must be tired. People keep managing to sneak up on me today."

She smiled sideways at him, looking pleased. " I did try and sneak."

" Then you were highly successful."

" Good." She settled down on the bench next to him, keeping the proscribed distance. Meeting in public, even if her parents didn't know the meetings were pre-arranged, wasn't against the rules. If anyone saw them, they looked like a typical courting couple, very proper, very formal. But he could smell the sweetness of her perfume from where he sat and see the warmth in her eyes. And he could remember far too well the way her body folded against his, in other, less public places, and the way she sighed under his hands.

He cleared his throat.

" What's up?" Thalia asked.

He decided that directness was the best approach. " I have to leave Windy again."

He saw her stiffen, but she didn't make a fuss. " When?"

" Today. I need to be in Jeuno by Iceday."

" Oh Gil."

" I know, sweetling. I'm so sorry."

" My father will be furious."

" I know. But I have to go. Something came up, something I can't get out of."

She turned and looked at him, her dark eyes hiding nothing. He had never seen any trace of dissembling or pretence in Thalia; it was one of the things he loved best about her.

" You mean something you don't want to get out of," she replied, smiling faintly.

He looked away. " Yes. I'm sorry."

" There's no need to apologise, Gil. I wouldn't love you if you weren't the person you are."

Right then he felt like he hated the person he was. " I don't deserve you."

" Nonsense," she said. " You know I'd never ask you to give up the adventuring. Whatever my parents think. I don't expect you turn into a merchant, Gil, just because you want to marry me. You'd be miserable, and you'd start to hate me."

" I could never hate you, Tal," he protested. " I adore you."

" How much?"

" Millions. Zillions."

" Then take me with you," she said.

He reared backwards. " Whoa. What?"

" Take me with you. I want to be an adventurer too."

" Tal, you can't. I mean, you're . . . you're young, and untrained, and . . . it's DANGEROUS out there, Tal."

" You mean I'm a girl."

" I didn't say that," he replied, trying hard not to think it either. " But you come from a wealthy family. You're used to soft beds and good food and comfortable clothes. You wouldn't . . . I mean . . ."

" I wouldn't last a week out on the roads?" she asked, those lambent eyes fierce now.

Sometimes he would swear she could read his mind. " I didn't say that either."

" No, but you were thinking it. I know I'm all the things you say, Gil, but I can learn. I learn fast. I've been practising the magic by myself." She scrambled to her feet. " Look, I'll show you."

He grabbed hold of her wrist. " Sit down! You can't do magic here. It's forbidden, you know that."

" No one will see."

" I don't care."

" You're not being fair," she protested, subsiding back down on to the bench. " When you ran off to be an adventurer, you didn't take any notice of all these stupid arguments."

" I didn't try and persuade someone else, someone who loved me very much, to take me out into danger either."

" Fine," she snapped. " Fine. I'll go by myself then."

" Tal!"

" What?"

He sighed.

" Okay," he said. " Okay. I won't go to Jeuno. I'll stay in Windy. Tal, don't cry. Why are you crying? Sweetling, I love you, there's no need to cry. We'll get married and live happily ever after and . . ."

" No," she choked. " No. It's okay. You must go to Jeuno. I'd hate myself if I stopped you." She sat up and scrubbed fiercely at her eyes whilst he cursed the conventions that meant he couldn't comfort her, except with words. " See? I'm fine now. Tears all gone."

He looked at her, and she smiled bravely back at him, and his heart ached so hard he could barely breathe.

" I love you so much," he said.

" I love you too."

" When I get back, I'll teach you more spells."

" Okay."

" And how to fight with a katana."

" A great katana?"

He made an effort to smile. " Don't push your luck."

" Spoilsport!"

" I'd better go," he said.

She folded her hands in her lap, as if it was an effort not to reach out for him. " Yes."

" I'll see you soon, sweetling."

" Yes," she said again, smiling. " Be careful, Gilly."

" Always," he replied.

This time he meant it. This time he had something to come back for.