Disclaimer: By this point, if you think that I think that I own Tamora Pierce's marvelous work, you are incredibly dense.

A/N: Wow. Much as I hate to admit it, I totally had no intention of writing this today. I was just sitting at the computer, incredibly bored, and the next thing I knew I was halfway through the chapter. So. You get a speedy update!

Chapter 5

Daine's conversation with Amily left her feeling considerably better about the whole situation. It was a relief to know that not everyone hated her after what had happened, and according to the maid she wasn't the only one that had disbelieved the rumors. It was somewhat uncomfortable to have her childhood friend in awe of her and her achievements, but it also brought a warm kind of feeling that she finally had proof that she wasn't the good-for-nothing that everyone had claimed that she was.

Unfortunately, the reunion between the two girls was cut short quite abruptly at a bellow from the common room. Amily winced.

"That'd be Bayard," she remarked regretfully. "He'll be none too happy to see me talkin' to you. Um…"

Daine picked up on the other girl's awkwardness and smiled warmly. "Then I'd best not get you in trouble. Numair's likely starving. If I might have some of this bread…?"

"Of course." Amily was obviously relieved that Daine understood her need to stay in favor with her employer. After all, there weren't too many jobs available in Snowsdale as good as the one that she had, and it would be a terrible blow to her family if she were to lose it. "I'll give y' a bite of cheese too…and Bayard won't be missin' a little sausage either, I'm thinkin'."

"Thank you." The wildmage accepted the napkin in which Amily had wrapped the food, but held onto the younger girl's hand for a moment. "I'd fair given up hope that anyone back here would still like me, after all that'd happened."

"An' you really thought all of us'd believe you was mad?" The maid demanded in indignance. "You're truly mad if you think that. I wouldn't believe half what these puffed up villagers say about their flocks, not to say if they tell 'bout somethin' so fanciful."

"Amily, you little chit, y'd best get your lazy self in 'ere before I drag you myself," came a deep, unpleasant bellow. Amily frowned.

"I'd best not keep him waitin'," she remarked apologetically, then grabbed a tray and bustled out of the room. Daine waited for a moment to peek outside the kitchen to see if she could figure out the location of her errant mage. No such luck; he was nowhere to be seen. She pursed her lips and ducked back out of view from the common room. It really wasn't that it was too troublesome to find him, given her magical abilities, but he should know better by now than to go wandering off alone.

A quick survey of the local animals traced him to a house near the outskirts of the village, and this fact caused her to chew her lip in consternation. What could possibly have him in someone's house, especially since he knew her past with these people? This thought was not a pleasant one, considering that the only reasons she could think of were bad ones.

Relax, she told herself as she exited the kitchen through a back door that lead to the stable-yard. Perhaps someone just needed his help with something, since he's a mage and all. It didn't mean that catastrophe had stricken.

You fret too much, a grey pony informed her. Daine smiled at the sight of her loyal Cloud, and allowed the mare to butt her head against her side. She noticed amusedly that several other ponies had drifted near her in hopes of similar attention. The stork-man can take care of himself. And if you ever try to ride me that sick again, I shall have to throw you, Cloud added in reference to the previous night's activities.

"It's not as though I knew I was that sick," Daine protested, hands on hips. Cloud snorted and tossed her head.

You would have noticed if you had been paying attention. You need to take better care of yourself. The stork-man nearly ran Spots and me to exhaustion trying to get here. It was Daine's turn to snort, and she had opened her mouth to retort when she noticed several pairs of wary, suspicious human eyes turned in her direction. With a sigh she decided that it would be best not to give them any more reason to think her insane than they already had. With one last caress to the mare's head and a silent promise to the other ponies that she would be back to get acquainted with them later, she made her way out of the stable yard.

It was odd to walk the streets of her childhood again, more so than it had been to look upon them from the inn's window. Then she was removed from it all; she had a barrier between the town and herself, and it was almost possible to convince herself that she was somewhere else entirely. Now there was no denying that she was back in Snowsdale.

In all her years away, she still remembered it in great detail. The memories were like ghosts haunting every tree and house and stone, some half-remembered and others only fleeting glimpses into a life that did not seem to be her own. With these memories came the emotions that she had feared would spring upon her when she had first discovered where she was. There was no more denying that there had been a part of her that had been claimed by Snowsdale long ago, and that part of her still remained no matter how long it had remained buried and dormant.

Daine reached into her shirt and pulled out the Badger's claw, holding it tightly in her clenched fist. She refused to let herself be taken back over by the feelings of inferiority and fear and hatred that had been so much a part of her early years. Her life had been changed in Tortall, and she was not going to let this place recapture her.

Reminding herself of who she had become helped her to stand tall against the curious glances cast her way by villagers. She would prove to them—and to herself—once and for all that she was someone to be respected and treated as an equal.

It was difficult to keep her eyes straight forward as she tried to maintain an air of confidence in walking down the streets. She was convinced that if she were to meet anyone's eyes they would recognize her or she would break down completely, neither of which she could deal with right now. She kept her pace even, for all that she wanted to break into a run and fling herself into Numair's arms.

Just keep going, she instructed herself. You'll be with Numair soon, and then you'll be able to deal with this.

It seemed to be both an infinitely long and short time until a few sparrows chirped out that this was the right place. Daine took a deep breath and spent a moment straightening her appearance; if she was to confront the owner of this house, then she wanted to look as well off as she possibly could. It took another moment of reassurance from the sparrows and a few mice for her to gather the courage to knock on the door.

The wooden portal did not swing open immediately, and in the tense minute in which she waited for a response she registered feminine laughter drifting out the window. A lilting woman's voice said something that was on the verge of being distinguishable, and was followed by a very familiar laugh that Daine had grown to adore. Doubt filled her; who was she to go barging in if he was enjoying himself?

The wildmage had no more time for worrying, however, as the door was opened to reveal a petite woman with fair hair even for a Gallan. Daine blinked in surprise as she connected the face with a name: Nonia. The memory of her ma giving assistance with a breech-birth during her stay in the Divine Realms flooded her mind; hadn't she said that the mother of the babe was Nonia? The thought scared her now as it had then; the woman was only a year older than her, and not only was she married but a mother of several years.

"May I help you?" Nonia was inquiring, and Daine was about to answer when her eyes drifted past the mistress of the household.

Numair sat in the picture of relaxation beside Nonia's older sister, both of them seemingly absorbed by the other's company. It was plain to see that Mandaly was completely taken in by the mage, and had seemingly set her sights on winning him over to having the same feelings for her. Numair, for his part, did not seem to be resisting the woman's charming advances.

"…assure you, the scenery of Tortall cannot possibly compare to your beautiful Galla," he was informing her. With a sinking sensation Daine recognized his tone—it was the one he had used when he was just her teacher, trying to win the affections of some court beauty.

What was it that Onua had said of him, back when they had just met? "He goes for shapely blondes." Well, Mandaly certainly fit both of those requirements, and Daine could only qualify for the shapely bit, and then only if you were willing to be generous. And besides that, she was eight years Daine's elder—a mature woman closer to Numair's own age by far. Beside Mandaly, how could she possibly hold a candle?

Daine's breath caught in her throat. Perhaps…perhaps everyone had been right about things here in Snowsdale. No man would want someone like her, and she had been foolish to keep hoping for so long. She should have taken it as a hint that he had hardly brought up their marriage again after the first year or two.

Her voice only hitched a little as she mumbled out some excuse to Nonia and turned on her heel. She struggled to keep from sobbing within the town limits. Although a few tears managed to leak out, she miraculously managed to keep herself from bawling until she had reached the familiar forest surrounding Snowsdale.

It was a mystery to her how she managed to make it to the tiny cave that had been a refuge in her childhood. Somehow, as rivers of tears spilled from her eyes, the place had lost its comfort.