Dynaheir watched her ward's head bob up and down, his fatigue catching up with him. "Minsc, thou shouldst sleep."

"But Dynaheir," Minsc mumbled, weariness weighing down every word, "Minsc and Boo have finally found you. I must keep watch so you are not lost—"

"Let thy worries be. I am free now." Dynaheir laid a hand on his. "I am going nowhere. Thou hast earned rest. Everybody has."

"Minsc can stay awake. It is fine. Dynaheir does not need to keep watch, not while her berserker"—a great yawn escaped him—"still stands."

She patted his hand. "No and that is final. I do not have to be a Wychlaran to see thou art exhausted." She shoved him away with a friendly push. "Go to bed, Minsc. When I tire I shall wake another to keep watch."

The warrior grumbled, but gave in to his witch. He lumbered off to his bed roll and soon his snoring joined in with everybody else's—albeit quite a bit louder. She couldn't help the smile that strayed. For all of his size, she felt like a mother dealing with a child.

Dynaheir turned to the fire, watching it for a time. She tapped her knee and peered around at her sleeping companions. What an odd group Minsc had the good fortune of finding. Khalid and Jaheira were kind enough sorts, though the woman wasn't nearly as pleasant as her husband; still, her healing had helped with the gnolls' torture so she couldn't complain. Dynaheir did not misunderstand their affiliation though. Minsc, the Three bless him, did not catch the meaning of the couple's brooches, but she did: those two were Harpers.

Yet while they were Harpers, the others surely weren't. The gnome was addled, an odd sort she hardly had time to try and understand. The girl was completely opposite in her cheer and chattiness. The boy was last. Her eyes rested upon Zanven's sleeping form. He had proved himself a riddle in short order.

Minsc had burst through the boy's shyness just an hour earlier and spilled loose information that caused Zanven unease. She had wanted to pry into the bounty, but he had excused himself. It was not difficult to see that the boy was out of his element; it certainly seemed obvious enough seeing the cloth wrapped around his eyes. Curiosity brewed in her head. She would have to content herself with knowing things would most likely be explained later.

Movement caught her attention and she tensed. She frowned, finding Edwin stirring in his sleep. Anger flared and for a moment she cursed herself for even bothering to have the man spared. The Red Wizard had been nothing but trouble, just as his ilk was to be. He certainly wouldn't have given her the same luxury were their roles reversed. Lesser people than her wouldn't have allowed their once-captor mercy.

Mercy, however, allowed for clarity. Leaving him to be torn to bits by an angry gnoll gave her no answers as to why she was important to him. Answers that, as her glare lingered, she wanted right now.

Dynaheir stood up with a huff and marched over to him. "Wake up." She sat down and prodded his side. "I shall not say it again."

Edwin ignored her at first. When her prodding became more forceful he awoke with a start, one hand stretching out and another reaching for his waist. He relaxed when he saw it was her. "What? What reason do you have to ruin my slumber? (Oh to have my spells back... or at the very least my dream. Am I not afforded the sanctuary of my mind now?)"

"I wish to talk with thee."

He groaned. "Can it not wait until the morn?"

"It can, though I'm not sure what will become of thee then. I know not what our companions will do if they learn of thine actions. Only that they will not like them."

Edwin tensed again and let out a hiss. "You wake me up to threaten me?"

Dynaheir crossed her arms. "I am not as childish as thee to waste our time with threats. As it stands, come morning our companions will desire to know what led us to be in gnoll hands. I will be telling them, of course."

"Ah. Let me guess. They will side with the damsel-in-distress and I will be judged and executed with little a defense to my name. A waste to have spent time on my wounds in that case."

"I would merely speak the truth. I cannot speak to their actions, though I'd be owed having mine opinion help dictate them. As I said, I wish to talk. Thou art capable of determining how the future shall play out."

"Lucky me." Edwin pushed himself up into a sitting position. "Fine. Have your talk. What is it you want?"

"Why me?" Her question elicited a blank look that turned to irritation. "What purpose was there to sabotage my travels?"

"You are Wychlaran and I Red Wizard. Wherever we are is merely a backdrop to the enmity between us." He gave her a withering look and raised his chin. "That nest of rats you call sisterhood would do well to be culled."

Dynaheir met his gaze and moved so that they were nearly nose to nose. "Do not lie to me, wizard!" She resisted the urge to grab his neck and throttle the answers out of him. Controlling her anger, she leaned away. "There is more to thy failed scheme than that. Were we squabbling over an age old hostility, one of us would not be here right now. One of us would be slain instead of wasting time on taking a captive."

Edwin grimaced. "Perhaps that is the case. (She talks as if a duel between us isn't already a foregone conclusion in my favor.)" He sighed. "It is a matter of information, as I told you back in that pit. Is it not strange a witch is so far from Rashemen?"

"As strange as a Red Wizard subjecting himself to cultures beneath Thay?"

"Bah. Not nearly. There is sense in our dealings outside Thayan soil. (It is just unfortunate that I am a part of them.) We don't wrap ourselves up in barbarity and stay put as the Rashemi do."

"Information then?" Dynaheir clicked her tongue. "Thou willst get nothing from mine lips."

"As you will find the same with me. If that much is agreed, I believe this pointless chat of ours is over." Edwin turned to roll over and go back to sleep, but Dynaheir pulled him back toward her.

"Thou may keep quiet on thy motives, but that only makes it much more imperative that I mistrust thee. I presume that Minsc and I shall be travelling with this group for some time. Whatever thy quarrel with me is, drop it. If there truly is a shred of honor within thee, recognize it was I that spared thee. We need not hound one another's trail."

Edwin narrowed his eyes and plucked her hand from his shoulder. "And what of your motives, witch? You hide behind a curtain as much as I. Whatever, find solace in surrounding yourself with a blind boy and his babysitters. I speak no more, away with you and let me sleep! Do what you must when I awake."

Dynaheir retreated back to her spot by the fire. It was no coincidence they had crossed paths. She didn't dare think his kin sent him this far merely out of furthering an age old hatred; that was too spiteful, even for them. Much as her sisters, it was information they wanted. Edwin would get nothing from her, his scheming be damned, but she wondered what he kept locked away within his mind.

She shook her head. All of this to chase after prophecies.

"What reason do you have for sullying my shadow?" He hardly registered her, only giving her a brief look over his shoulder as he kept walking.

Imoen jumped at the man's sudden vitriol. "You sound funny. Your accent's much different than everybody else's... although, come to think of it, none of us sound the same really."

"(Wonderful. I owe this unwelcome annoyance to linguistic curiosity. No doubt a subject way above her intellectual means.)"

"Sheesh, you're awful friendly, aren'tcha? You'd think after Dynaheir letting you off easy you'd be a bit nicer, Mr. Red Man."

"Do not address me by that imbecilic title. You will call me Edwin Odesseiron, though perhaps Edwin is a simpler verbal hurdle for you."

"Well then, Edwin, care to explain the beef between you and her?"

He heaved a sigh. "Did you not hear her when she addressed us all this morning?"

"I did. Just thought it'd be better to hear your end of it too."

"There is little from my end I wish to share with you. I agreed to her terms, did I not? (The very same that hawk of a woman in your group delighted in hashing out.) We are rivals and I was unfortunate enough to be a step behind. I've given my word to shed hostilities and serve penance by aiding your group."

"Sure sounds a lot better than being eaten by gnolls, I'd say." Imoen frowned and dashed the thought; that was an image she didn't quite want stuck in her head. "Just think, once we root out the rest of this iron problem you're free to go."

"Yes, how exciting. Pray the mastermind behind it is duller than you and your companions so that my atonement is swift." Edwin picked up his pace to move away from her.

Imoen let him be, moving to walk beside Zanven. "Heya."

"I told you he wouldn't want to talk to you," Zanven said.

"And how were you so certain of that, huh?"

"Because you're Imoen. If that isn't a big enough reason to avoid you then... ow! Let go of my ear!"

"Say you're sorry and Imoen's the best and you're full of cow dung!"

"I'm sorry! You're the best, I'm dumb, you're better than me, blah blah blah!"

Imoen released him, grinning ear to ear. "One of these days I won't need to coerce that outta ya and you'll say it right and true, all polite-like."

Zanven mumbled something unpleasant, rubbing his ear. "I just figured he wouldn't want to talk to you, or anybody really. He doesn't seem like kindness is important to him."

"Fair enough. Considering his options, you'd think he'd be a bit happier. Death by gnoll if she didn't help him, thrown in jail if we bring it up with the Fist, or doing the Coast a favor. Seems an easy choice to me because death and jail aren't any fun."

"Just leave him be. One perpetually angry man is already a handful with Tiax."

"Two if you include yourself." Imoen chuckled at his groan. "I'm sure he'll come around and be a bit more talkative later. All this walking gets boring without some chatter. Besides, he can't resist my charms for too long. I'm far too lovable and adorable for him to ignore forever."

"And yet I've had no troubles ignoring you for years now." Zanven was quick to guard his ear this time. "In what world do you think he'd like you, Imoen?"

Imoen laughed. "I'm sure there's one out there. And maybe there's a whole bunch of others too where we can fly. Or walk upside-down! Or ride unicorns and-and-and—"

"You are completely addled, Imoen."

They had stopped in Nashkel only long enough for Brother Nalin to evaluate and tend to Dynaheir and Edwin. The events at the carnival had seen to it their stay at Nashkel was merely in passing; the less attention brought to them the better, Jaheira had explained. She had also been keen on stressing that Zanven and Imoen were not to stray this time.

When Beregost greeted them, Zanven was overjoyed at the idea of not having to hustle from one spot to the next. They would have real beds and real food. How long, he could only guess—Khalid and Jaheira, intent on rooting out Nashkel's link to the Coast's banditry, spent their time combing the town for leads—so he would enjoy a sedentary life again while he could.

"And this is where Tiax started a bar fight and has been following us since," Imoen said. "Shame he's stuck around. Wouldn't if it weren't for his crush on Zanven."

"Imoen!" Heat surged to Zanven's cheeks. Perish the thought—violently with a sword. "I'll admit... he's not quite there, but he has helped us in spite of it."

"Tiax is...odd, to say the least," Dynaheir said. "His company amongst you did give me pause." Minsc mirrored her thought with a grumble.

"Thankfully he's someone else's burden right now. I bet Khalid already had to stop Jaheira from wringing his neck a thousand times now," Imoen said. "No way no how there's anything smart in that head of his."

"Let us not dwell on that despicable little creature's history with your group." Edwin stomped past them and opened the inn door. "That gnome is a nuisance, though only slightly more than present company. I tire of playing babysitter and would like to go about collecting the tools of my trade."

"Hey now," Imoen said, "you take that back!"

"If anything, it's the other way around. We're watching over you. You're the one who could have been left to the gnolls," Zanven said, joining in the testy air.

"Unlike you, I am not blind. (Nor stupid.) I can read between the lines as to why your caretakers dumped you two on me and the witch," Edwin said. "While they are flitting about town on whatever mission they've sworn themselves to, we are left to make sure nothing happens to you. (I cannot discern the importance of such a lowly task, if there's any to it.)

Energy itched within Zanven's clenched fist. "They are not my caretakers! You'd do well to recognize the kindness undeservedly afforded to you."

"Or what... mageling? (He glows?)" Edwin asked, a hint of curiosity to his abuse. "You insult me by leaving your threat unfinished, or worse, empty."

Zanven frowned. His hand felt ready to burst. Laughter rang throughout the inn, drawing his attention to the crowd. He remembered Jaheira warning against making a scene. Her words be damned! He didn't need to suffer this man's insults. His fingers twitched, eager to release the spell coursing through them.

Dynaheir laid a hand on Zanven's shoulder and gently pulled him back. At her touch his magic winked out. "Rising to his bait only gives us the misfortune of hearing his voice further. As for thou, cease thy prattle, Edwin. Thou art mistaken to think I shall accept thy presence any longer than necessary. Crawl away to a room and leave us be."

"You force servitude upon me and bar me from seeking out spell components?" Edwin asked. "I can hardly be of any use as a wizard should be in this silly penance you ask of me. Perhaps you are afraid of me breaking my word and testing the strength of your witchery?"

Dynaheir let out a breath, much like an irritated mother. "I do not fear thee. Our ears deserve better than to suffer under thy words. Minsc, help Edwin to a room and watch after him. Write a list of what thou need, wizard, and I shall see to it that it might find its way unto thy hands."

Minsc took hold of a sputtering Edwin. "Come, you'll not bother Minsc's friend anymore. Boo says you'd do well to learn some manners."

"Ha, look at him," Imoen said. "I think he's redder in the face than you've ever been, Zanven. Upset the both of us, didn't he?"

"I, uh... yes," Zanven said. He felt sheepish for the bout of anger. It was unlike him to rise to such obvious bait. "You are certain it is not better for the Fist to take hold of him?"

"He serves a purpose in spite of his attitude... much like thy gnome, I imagine," Dynaheir said. The trio found a table and sat down. "Ignoring him is for the best. I too plan on fetching things I need if I am to be any help to you. I would not presume that you would like to remain here. You are welcome to join me."

Imoen thumped the table. "Shopping, huh? And you said you're looking for magic? That's the fun kind!"

Zanven shared her excitement, though had the decency to temper it. "Count us in."

Dynaheir led them through Beregost's marketplace, hopping from stall to stall. For a magical shopping trip, it seemed rather mundane. Most of what she had purchased thus far, Zanven wagered, wasn't even magical. It seemed suspect spells consisted of flowers and leaves; in particular, the trail rations had let him down. Sure, they staved of starvation, but they weren't magic. Imoen had no problem 'ooing' and 'aaing' over everything though, especially when they came upon the stall selling jewelry.

"Ah, I do believe this is it. I was afraid I would not find it again," Dynaheir said. "This way, you two, into this shop."

"Again?" Imoen asked.

"Minsc and I passed through here once before, on our way south," Dynaheir said. She reached out and blocked Zanven's way. "Sorry, but do be careful here. This building is rather cramped. Tables and shelves are everywhere." She inspected everything and offered up an explanation for each component; nothing was without purpose, no matter its role in the spell. Joy danced in her words, and it was clear her knowledge spawned from passion rather than arrogance.

"There's a whole bunch of animal parts all laid out over here, gross! A bunch of jars too. What's bat guano?" Imoen asked.

Zanven made a face. "It's, uh, bat—"

"Poop," Peri chimed in, giggling.

"You let me touch it!" Imoen laughed along with Peri. Zanven shoved her away when she wiped her hand against his sleeve. "Funny how this all works. You throw out some dust and say a few words and poof!"

"There is a little more to it than just that," Dynaheir said, a respectful air to her words. "They are tools to access the gift of the Hidden One. Thy mind is just as important as the material aspects of spellcraft."

"Quit your fantasies now, Imoen. You don't have the patience for scrolls and spellbooks," Zanven said.

Imoen blew a raspberry at him. "Some of us don't get to have magic the easy way. Hardly fair it's in your blood and not mine!"

"Thou art blessed with sorcery? I had my suspicions, though it is rude to pry." Polite as Dynaheir was, Zanven found himself suddenly interested in toying with the materials on the table. "Thou hast a familiar quite different from others and there are certain qualities I have noticed." Peri posed at the compliment, causing Zanven to bat away his outstretched wings.

"Kinda hard to not notice when he turns into a candle," Imoen said. "Angelboy's a funny one. Magic's been cropping up for him all over the place recently. Good thing too or that lady woulda had him dead. Burnt her right up and even fixed his broken arm. Healed up good as new."

Dynaheir let out a 'hmm', listening in earnest. Zanven expected her to grab at his arm to inspect it from her interest. "That is peculiar... who was this lady?"

"Don't really know. A stranger tried to kil—hey, stop it, Zanven! Quit elbowing me!"

"A bounty seeker?" Dynaheir asked. "This seems more troubling than thou first let on. Thou mentioned two before, no?"

"There have... been a few," Zanven conceded.

"A few?" Imoen asked. "Two in Nashkel, one at the Friendly Arm Inn, and then there was—where are you going?"

"I... I'm stepping out a moment. Just outside, I won't be far." Zanven spat the words out, fighting the lump in his throat. He bumped into a table on his way out, leaving materials knocked aside in his wake. "Just a breath of air."

He brushed up against the door, all but falling through it as he exited the shop.

Claws tapped at his head and he ignored it. The tapping turned into scratching. When that too provoked no response, the dragon shifted his weight and flicked his tail in front of Zanven's face. Irritation welled inside of him. When he heard Peri take in a deep breath, he snaked a hand around the dragon's snout.

"Don't you dare!" He gave a squeeze before letting go.

"Something is wrong. You aren't happy." Peri gave a low whine, nuzzling Zanven's neck. "Dynaheir is nice. You do not like her?"

"I just didn't want to stay in there, that is all." His words came out in a jumble. "It was small, hardly any room to move. Stuffy too."

Peri hmmed, unusually scrutinizing coming from him. Zanven waved his hand in dismissal and started back toward the noise of the marketplace. Peri went rigid. "Wait! We have to stay here. Where are you going?"

"I'm just walking."

He wasn't going far, just like he said. Let Imoen run her mouth. They didn't need him there for that. Let her be the one to brief Dynaheir on why they were running from gods know how many killers.

A pang of guilt struck him. He had been as excited as Imoen to stroll around town and here he was fleeing with hardly a word for his absence. She had held his interest when she spoke, as if she were a monk. She was the first person outside of Candlekeep he found he could really converse with about the arcane, and although it felt much like scrutiny, her curiosity signaled she might know something of himself he didn't.

Just like...

Zanven steeled himself with a frown and walked faster. He made out a tune floating through the air. "You hear that? Let's go find where it's coming from." Music would calm him down.

"I don't know... Shouldn't we turn back now? They'll worry and-and it might not be safe!"

Zanven kept moving in spite of his familiar's protests. The music led him into a building, another inn he guessed. The smell of food drifted throughout the room and the bustle reminded him of Feldepost's. Something was different though. People talked nervously and quite a few were quick to shove their way past him out the door. The musician kept up a light melody; thank goodness it wasn't a wasted trip.

He moved closer to the music, humming along with it. Peri snapped him back to attention with a screech that frightened him half to death. "That's a body!" Peri hopped off of his shoulder, wings beating.

With all the grace of a spooked horse, Zanven tumbled over the heavy lump on the ground. Arms flailing, his staff clattered to the floor and he fell onto someone. He tried to regain his balance and furthered the awkward incident by grabbing a fistful of hair. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to! This wasn't—" He wheezed as a hand tightened around his neck.

"Let. Go. Of. Me." It was a woman, and anger resided in every syllable. A blade poked at his stomach.

Zanven untangled his fingers, unsure whether embarrassment or her grip suffocated him more. "I... really... sorry!"

"I made short work of your dwarf-friend you're trying to avenge." Her blade bit through his robe. "I can do the same for you."

A man yelled out to them. "You better not! One body's enough on my floor. You take this one outside. You didn't even clean up that mess you left behind!"

"He tried killing me first!" she spat back. "I've nothing to do with him. As for yo—oh hells." Her voice filled with discomfort. Her blade eased away and tentatively lifted up the cloth around Zanven's eyes. She released him and he gulped in air.

"Is everything alright?" a young man asked, hurried footsteps marking his appearance.

"Yeah, just fine. I, uh, mistook him for the world's worst assassin. Thought he was the dwarf's partner."

Zanven couldn't help but let a laugh escape him. The sheer irony of it: almost killed because someone thought he was an assassin!

The man retrieved his staff and handed it to him. "Hey, uh, I think we owe you one for that. Here, I'll pull over a chair."

"Yeah, sorry about that," the woman said.

"Yup, straight out of Berdusk's college, I am!"

"Wow," Zanven said. "I would have never thought there'd be schools for the arts." Perhaps he paid too little attention talents beyond his grasp. For wizardry sure, but for music?

"He's not quite the best poet though. Definitely more of an instrument man."

"Ah, heh, yeah..." Zanven noted the man's pause, a surge coming to his own cheeks when he caught her meaning. "Used to travel wherever the Dale Wind carried me, but greater things are ahead now."

The woman snorted. "Embellishment as always. Can't say I'm as interesting as him. A book-learned barbarian just trying to find her way through the Heartlands."

"Huh?"

"I fight things. Tend to kill them more often than not. It's a bit of a joke." She sighed. "Thayvians..."

"There is truth to it though. You can recite that combat manual blind. Front to back, back to front, not a word missed! I, ah, hmm..." Zanven smiled and indicated he took no offense. "How about you?"

"Me?" Zanven hesitated. What could he say? He had none of their experience. "I'm nothing like you guys really. I've an aptitude for magic and used to waste away living in a library. Tore through a lot of books thanks to this guy." He patted Peri and the familiar cooed, scrabbling to sit on the table.

"You too, huh? Life didn't see fit to keep me trapped there." There was an edge to her voice that resonated with Zanven.

"Birds of a feather," the man said with cheer. "Pardon me for saying it, but you're a strange sort. Blind, magical, and travelling with a fearsome dragon! That'd make quite the tale, with artistic license of course."

"I don't know. I couldn't stand out in a tale. Who'd even be interested in it?"

"I'd make it a fiction for the ages, a net fit to capture fans everywhere!"

The woman groaned. "His head's spinning already. It's bad enough he tries to rope me into his tales. Hardly any truth to them, not a one." She shared a kiss with him. "They're getting better though."

"Thank you so very much for your most gracious compliment."

For once Zanven welcomed Tiax's headache-inducing voice. It sure beat enduring Imoen's lecturing. She punched and pinched his arm bruised for his disappearance act; that was only the beginning. The rest of the day she bogged him down with a scolding. Already she had made him apologize to Dynaheir half a dozen times and demanded another half-dozen for making her worry. Had she not threatened to tell Jaheira, he would have ignored her and let her anger fizzle out.

"It is him," Tiax shrieked, provoking a reprimand from Jaheira to quiet down. He beat at the table the group sat at, madder than usual. "Cyric has given Tiax revenge on a silver platter—no, gold! Gold only fit for Tiax!"

"I am afraid I do not understand," Dynaheir said, obvious that she struggled to keep her voice diplomatic.

"Neither does Minsc. What madness do you ramble on about now, gnome?"

"What the fool is trying to say is," Jaheira said, "is our efforts have bore fruit. We have produced a lead to the Sword Coast's problems, however shaky it stands."

"You would put stock into this imbecile's words?" Edwin asked.

"Your insults are petty, slave! Tiax has not forgotten the underhanded affront to his ascension! He cares not for aiding in the region's troubles, but Cyric demands a culling of his followers again. Any bandits in Tiax's way shall merely net him more favor."

Jaheira was quick to speak before Edwin had a chance to argue. "Rumors speak of a mad man assailing Beregost, and not just the one in our company. They seemed nothing more than stories at first, but there must be truth to what the townsfolk say to create such fear."

"So what are we dealing with this time?" Imoen asked. "Kobolds, check. Gnolls, check. Assassins, check." Zanven stomped his foot; she said that on purpose! Imoen clicked her tongue and continued. "What's the new notch on our bad guy offin' belt?"

Jaheira sighed. "These stories are backed by the word of Beregost's governor. He spoke of citizens going missing. Some bodies have shown up, maimed beyond recognition. Unfortunately, we wade through clouded details much the same as with Nashkel. Nobody is certain as to why people are disappearing from town."

"Tiax knows. Oh yes, Tiax definitely knows." He cackled. "We deal with the one who turned his back on Tiax to curry favor with common thieves! I have cracked Mulahey's skull already, I shall tear yours asunder too, Bassilus!"

"Who is Bassilus?" Zanven asked

"T-Tiax is very adamant that the source of Beregost's m-murders lies in his old companion," Khalid said, taking over for his wife when she resorted to praying for patience.

"Bassilus is a... he is a..." Tiax's venom stalled. He pounded the table. "He is a rat deserving extermination! He shall be given the mercy of a grave so that Tiax can dance upon it."

"Amongst the rumors are strange sightings on the outskirts of t-town," Khalid said. "People say they've seen shambling b-bodies when the sun goes down."

"Shoddy work one can expect from a shoddy follower. He knows nothing of truly manifesting the Word of Cyric. Even after all Tiax taught him!" Tiax sounded more disappointed than angry. "His zombies are shameful minions, nothing at all like Tiax's ghoul."

A murmur went through the group. Jaheira commanded a hush. "If that is the case, then there is no doubt we will act upon this abomination. We've only this small connection to the bandits plaguing the roads, as well as to Mulahey's operations in Nashkel. We have not been given many strings to pull out so we shall tug at this one and see how much it unravels."

"When Tiax demands it, you will stay your hand. It shall be only his that puts down that wayward dog!"

A rap at the door caused Zanven to tense. He moved his blanket aside and sat up, wondering if Imoen had heard it too. Her snoring answered that question. "Imoen," he whispered. "Imoen, get up!" He nudged Peri awake, his heart thumping.

There was only one way in and out of their room. If it was another assassin they would have to fight past the door. Even doing so, they were trapped. An ambush had to lie on the other side. Another knock, harder this time, jolted him up from the bed with Peri in hand.

A voice accompanied the knocking. "Zanven, if thou art still awake, I would wish to talk."

Zanven let out a breath. He could pretend he was still asleep and let her walk away. Maybe she would forget whatever it was that was on her mind. He shook his head, moving toward the door when he heard her footsteps leaving.

He cracked open the door and peeked his head out. "Dynaheir?"

"Ah, thou art awake after all." She walked back toward his room. "As I said, I wish to talk. I apologize for the hour I disturb thee in, but I feel this chat is of some importance. We seem to have... gotten off on the wrong foot, and if allowed I would like to correct that."

Guilt flooded back to him at her sincerity. He eased himself out of his room, closing the door behind him. He shifted his weight, Peri hardly awake in the crook of his arm. "Fair enough."

"Come then, if thou wouldst?" Dynaheir reached out, tentatively taking his hand. Zanven resisted the urge to pull his hand back and let her guide him downstairs. The inn at this hour was far less exciting than its usual liveliness. As they took a seat nestled away from what few patrons still around, silence hung between them.

Dynaheir drummed her fingers against the table, fueling the butterflies in his stomach. She sighed. "Let us to it then. I'd do thee an injustice by wasting thy time this late."

"To what exactly?"

"Thou needst not worry so much. Thou art dancing in thy skin, Zanven."

"I... I am not. I am fine." He stopped himself from bringing a hand to his face. Much too quick to speak, much too defensive. Gods, why was he so nervous around her?

"I am thy friend. I owe thee mine life." She paused, her words slowing. "If I've offended thee in some way..."

"No! No, you haven't." He scratched his cheek. There was no use stalling any longer. "You want to ask about me, about everything?"

"Aye. Thou hast not been very forthcoming, though it is understandable... I must admit, I very nearly asked Khalid and Jaheira about thee. As with Minsc, I am here to help. I seek merely to know how I can."

Zanven slumped forward, leaning his elbows on the table. "Take me back to Candlekeep."

"Pardon? Thou speaketh too soft."

He jumped, the thought unintentionally vocalized. "I am hunted and I don't know why."

"Thou hast said as much. Tis an unfortunate circumstance hanging over thee and despicable others seek to kill for gain."

"Little more than a tenday ago I was in Candlekeep until my foster father urged me to leave with him. He's... dead now." Dynaheir murmured to herself. "That was the first. They took him instead of me. We were to journey to the Friendly Arm Inn to meet his friends, Khalid and Jaheira. Another assassin tried to kill me hardly after I set foot through the inn's gate. Then again in Nashkel, the lady Imoen mentioned and another an entertainer at the town's carnival."

"By the Three, art thou cursed... oh, I am sorry."

Zanven gave her a sad smile. It felt liberating to no longer avoid dancing around the issue with her "Certainly feels like it. There is little to glean from it outside of someone wants me dead."

"For now. The reasons are hidden, but that does not mean they do not exist to be uncovered."

He cradled his head in his hands. That was that then. She knew now. She had been with them for only days and now she was briefed as to why they traveled the way they did, with all the secrecy and alertness; that wasn't even including trying to solve the Coast's banditry.

"Candlekeep thou said?" Zanven brought his head up at her question. "Let us shy away from what we cannot control. Tell me of thyself."

"I called it home until recently. Until this mess... I spent my time learning under the monks and studying magic. That really is all." Apparently enough to warrant a bounty.

"The finest of places to learn. Even from Rashemen in the East we know of Candlekeep. Would that I could, I would visit its halls. How was it that it became thy home? It is not notable for its youth."

"I grew up there, orphaned as a child. I've known only the monks, my father, and Imoen as family. What of you? What is your story?"

Dynaheir chuckled, odd to hear her demeanor fade away; she had been pleasant enough yet serious, much like a more tolerable Jaheira. "I am Rashemi and have traveled with Minsc, accompanying him on his dajemma. It is a rite of passage in our land, if he has not explained it himself. It is our way of experiencing Faerun to bring knowledge outside our country back home."

"And you are a witch?" The word felt strange coming from his lips. Edwin was quick to brand her with it as an insult, yet Minsc used it in adoration. "That... is a bad thing, isn't it?"

"If one goes by fairy tales, then that might be the case. Don't make that face, I've taken no insult. It is merely what we call ourselves, those of us that take spell-casting up as a profession, and it is an important one at that. We are the caretakers of Rashemen, of land and people."

"No wonder you seemed like an herbalist when we were at the marketplace."

"Our ways in magic do call for a more unorthodox understanding of things than others. The Hidden One spins the Weave, but what use is it without Bhalla and Mielikki's contributions?"

Zanven furrowed his brow. "I know of Mielikki, but the others?" He wouldn't dare call himself an expert on it (well, perhaps to Imoen,) but mythology fascinated him.

"Bhalla to us is Chauntea outside of Rashemen and to you the Hidden One is known as Mystra. Certainly a deity you must feel kindred to."

"I owe my being to her, I suppose. Although I profess to following Oghma. Candlekeep and all so it's not much of a stretch."

Dynaheir yawned, her chair scratching against the floor as she stood. "I think it is time to welcome sleep. I am thankful thou allowed mine request. Were it not so late, I feel we could speak of gods and magic until time ran out of hours to count. Trust is earned, but know that thou hast mine."

Zanven followed her upstairs and they bid each other good night. He crept back into bed, his nerves a calmer beast than before. He turned to his side when he heard a yawn from the other side of the room.

"See? Toldja being nice to her wouldn't hurt. Bet she didn't even bite."

Author's Notes: "And Mr. Anchev, tear down this fourth wall!" - Reagan probably, 1368 DR. I'm finding these scenes quite entertaining to whip up and can only hope they bring as much joy when read as they do while written! One of these days, Karlat, you might win, and when that happens, reloads will steal your victory.

I gotta throw a thanks ValidDreams' way. The joke of bat guano being someone's bane was one I couldn't pass up after seeing her Edwin's use of it, though it causes a bit less chaos here haha I've always found spell components kind of a weird concept, but I think reading other fics around here warmed me up to trying to explore it. Definitely makes magic more of a 'science'.

Man, I can't help but admire the rest of you guys. I always feel like my chapters come out at such a slower pace in comparison (though I always keep chugging, the literary tank engine I try to be.) Thank y'all for the reviews and views. I shall continue to do my part and endeavor to make myself worthy of them!