Wilhelmina spent a sleepless night, and vindictively hoped that Diccan was doing the same. Jhaliir, who'd loped off after a discreet interval to track the man to his resting place, reported with grudging respect that he'd kept his word and found shelter in a house on the edge of the village. In the meantime, Wilhelmina gently herded the two exhausted young witches to bed, layering the blankets with warming spells and the walls with muffling sound shields. No matter how scared and angry she'd been, the girls were still innocent; she'd cautiously tested their emotions when Diccan dropped his shields, and found nothing except weariness and a fierce determination to stick with each other.

They were reluctant to be separated, so she abandoned her plan to put one in each bedroom and squeezed them both in the guest bedroom instead. After that, she tried to sleep herself, but gave up on it after a restless half-hour. She spent the rest of the night on the couch downstairs, reading distractedly and keeping an ear out for Jhaliir on his frequent patrols. Her uneasiness was affecting the tiger, but she couldn't push it down, even if the immediate danger was past.

Just after the girls woke up, she sent what could only be described as a wail for help to Mairin, who arrived a few minutes later, freshly scrubbed and curious enough for any ten cats. That didn't stop her from diving into the pantry and starting on a breakfast that smelled more tempting than anything Wilhelmina could have managed. "How did you get yourself _into_ this?" she whispered when they had a moment to themselves.

"I didn't get myself into anything," Wilhelmina retorted. "They showed up and got me into it all by themselves."

"Alone?" Mairin said in instant concern. She glanced at the two witches - pale Caillie, who was better off this morning but had a drifty, dreamy look that worried Wilhelmina, and dark-haired Reanna, who looked almost as fragile physically as her friend did mentally.

"Not exactly. It's a long story."

"And I'd better hear every word of it." Mairin's mock-glower dissolved into a grin, but that didn't stop her from threatening Wilhelmina with a ladle before she dove into breakfast preparations. Hearthwitches who were born to their Craft enjoyed it as much as Healers or Black Widows enjoyed their own, and Mairin looked positively delighted with the sudden domestic challenge.

While Mairin was absorbed in cooking, Wilhelmina sent a second and much more discreet psychic call to Khary; by the time she'd finished eating, he and Morghann were at the garden gate. Jhaliir was nowhere to be seen, but Wilhelmina couldn't spare him more than a thought; she was too surprised at Morghann's sudden appearance. Morghann might be Jaenelle's friend and Sister, but Wilhelmina had always found Queens more than a bit intimidating.

Morghann swept into the garden, cheerfully oblivious to the dew on her skirts, and held out her hands in formal greeting. "It's good to see you again. And I apologize for the scare you had last night."

"It wasn't your fault!" she said, surprised.

"Diccan was acting on my request, so I share some of the responsibility. Though if that wool-headed..._male_ had thought to _call_ me, we could have avoided all this."

Wool-headed? He hadn't seemed stupid to her. _ Bull_headed, though, that she could agree with. "You do know him, then."

"For years. He's done me a good many services, and it's not entirely his fault that he has the social skills of an ox. Was he at least able to find Lady Nieve's daughter?"

"Yes. She and a friend are inside now, eating enough breakfast for four."

Morghann relaxed, then frowned as she realized what she'd just heard. "Friend? Oh, dear. Is this going to get complicated?"

"I think it already has."

Morghann coaxed the two girls out into the garden, and was talking quietly with them when Diccan appeared at the front gates, trailed - or possibly herded - by a smug-looking Jhaliir. The tiger leaped lightly over the garden wall, bumped his head affectionately against Wilhelmina's hip, and sat down where he could keep a suspicious eye on the Warlord.

*I found him,* he announced, clearly enough for all of them to hear. *No more sneaking up on my Lady.*

"I wasn't _trying_ to sneak, you great beast." Diccan glared at Jhaliir, who drew himself up and ignored him. "Lady Benedict, can't you keep him under control?"

"_Prince_ Jhaliir serves me," Wilhelmina said frostily. "He's not a pet. If you want him under control, try a little courtesy."

Morghann cleared her throat. Diccan swallowed whatever he was going to say, but his face lit when he caught sight of the Queen. "My Lady," he said, relief washing through his psychic scent. "I found your friend's daughter, and one more witch besides. I...wish I could have done more."

"More?" Morghann looked worried, and Wilhelmina frowned at the trace of disgust and self-blame in his psychic scent. She recognized it from last night, but it was stronger here in the Queen's presence.

"It took me months, my Lady. And-" He cut himself off, with a worried glance toward Reanna and Caillie. Apparently there were parts of his story that he didn't want them to hear.

Jhaliir gave him a thoughtful look, rose, and trotted toward the two young witches for a polite introductory sniff. *Some things hurt cubs to hear. I will watch them while you talk.* He stretched his muzzle out to Reanna and purred at Caillie like an oversized housecat before bounding off with both of them in tow, looking more pleased than otherwise to be excluded from the adult conversation. Wilhelmina wondered when the tiger had started learning how to charm witches like that, and hoped he didn't try it with Morwen. He'd end up round as a barrel in days.

Morghann waited until the girls were out of earshot before turning to Diccan. "All right, Lord Diccan. You did what I asked of you - and more besides. So why are you talking to me as if you failed?"

"Because I didn't do enough. I had a lead - I was close to finding more of the girls who'd been taken from Scelt, but then they scattered them all and I had to choose. You sent me after Caillie, so I had to choose her." He spread his hands in a frustrated gesture, then went on at Morghann's silent look of inquiry. "The girls were originally taken as hostages, and held in an isolated part of Goth. But when the fighting started it was every man for himself, and some of them scattered the girls all over the Realms. Mostly to Red Moon houses. Reanna and Caillie got packed off to Terreille with two others, but-" He stopped. Set himself. "But by the time I got to them, only those two had survived. And avenging them is a damn poor substitute for bringing them home alive."

Wilhelmina bit her lip and tried to withdraw, but a sharp look from Morghann stopped her. *Don't you dare!* the Queen said sharply on a private distaff thread. *You're from Terreille yourself; I may need to discuss this with you.*

*Me?*

*Yes, you,* she said firmly, and snapped the thread. "Diccan, you did what I asked, and I thank you. Though...I don't think I'll inquire into what else you might have done. There are things it's best for a Queen not to know at all, just in case someone comes asking."

"That's...probably best, my Lady," the Warlord admitted.

"Tell me about Terreille. Were you there long? Are they going to pose a threat to us again?"

"No. Not for years. Lady, it's bad there. A lot of Blood died from the witchstorm, and a good many followed afterward. So many lost touch with the land, and they didn't know how to survive when the cities died. There's been riots, and murder - most of those who were broken in the witchstorm had made themselves a good plenty of enemies over the years, and some took the opportunity to settle old scores."

Wilhelmina's lips pressed together at the mental images his words triggered. It might not be her home any more, but she didn't like thinking of Beldon Mor in riot and ruins. Except for the house where Robert Benedict had stalked her; _that_ could burn for all she cared.

Diccan gave her a curious glance, but didn't say anything to her. She _thought_ it was her imagination that his next words were directed more to her than to Morghann. "It'll take years, but I think the Realm will heal itself. Not that I'd like to be there while it's healing, understand," he added hastily. "But if the children who survived grow up knowing how to act like Blood, there may be a chance for them."

"If the Darkness is merciful," Morghann said somberly. Then she straightened, a subtle note in her voice that spoke of Protocol. "Lord Diccan, I thank you for your service. Is there anything I can do for you?"

He made an amused huff that wasn't quite a laugh. "Lady, just at the moment the height of my ambitions is a _bed_. Other than that - well, it'd be a kindness if you'll just let me stay quiet in Maghre for a bit. These last few months, all I've been able to think about is getting home."

Morghann's smile warmed. "I think we can manage that. Welcome home, my lord."

Wilhelmina just squeezed her eyes shut. Mother Night...