"Is there anything else that you need for the journey?" Beregnil asked Haleth. Two nights had passed since the meeting. The Master of Lake Town had been a solicitous host, offering to bring Haleth on a tour of Lake Town the day before. She had sadly declined his offer out of sympathy for Inglor, who was confined to the house and the sidelong attentions of Mrs. Bass.

If Inglor had appreciated or even been aware of her gesture, he had given no sign of it. They had spent most of the morning of the previous day in the cheery sitting room, pouring over maps and making plans. The quickest way to the Sea of Rhun was Ethirwen's offer of passage down the River Running. They decided to go ashore a day's march away from the mouth of the river and to travel across country to avoid notice.

Once these sketchy plans had been made, Inglor had become stubbornly withdrawn, and nothing Haleth could say or do would get more than one word answers from him. She had finally abandoned her futile efforts to lighten his mood and had turned to Beregnil's books for more amenable companionship.

Haleth had sought unsuccessfully for something that might explain the silver ring that hung around her finger like a rebuke, but there was nothing in Beregnil's bookshelves that could shed light on that particular mystery. She would probably have to go back to Rivendell to find the answers. After her last visit, Haleth was not entirely certain of the welcome she would receive. The puzzle would likely always remain unsolved.

To distract herself from both the irritating mystery and Inglor's black mood, Haleth spent the afternoon reading a thick book about the peoples of the east.

Inglor had echoed her example in silently reading, a slim volume of Numenorean poetry in his delicate hands. An uneasy quiet presided over the remainder of the day as each sat in an upholstered chair, doggedly ignoring the other as the shadows shifted across the room.

The tension even affected Mrs. Bass. The housekeeper brought another tray of delicacies for Inglor that afternoon. She hovered in the sunny room for several minutes before favouring Haleth with an accusatory sniff and leaving.

The evening meal was an exercise in stomach wrenching tension, with Beregnil in an effusive mood, Inglor willfully silent, and Haleth desperately trying to keep the elf involved in the conversation. The dream of the white boat riding silver-crested sea foam haunted her sleep again that night.

Now she was in the entranceway of Beregnil's home, waiting for Inglor to make an appearance so they could begin the next stage of what would definitely be their final journey together.

"No, thank-you Master Beregnil," Haleth answered with a smile. "You have been a most generous host. We lack for nothing."

"That reminds me," he said suddenly. He pulled something from his belt pouch. "Would you consider keeping these? As a reminder of our meeting?"

With a jolt, Haleth recognised the ivory combs he had loaned her. Inglor's words rose in her mind. "You would trade the ring for those combs," she heard his soft, resigned voice say. She had thought the imagined choice ridiculous until it was actually before her.

Haleth examined the combs. The delicate gold twinkled softly around the graceful lines of the running deer. Then she looked at the plain silver ring on her finger. It had become tarnished in the past two days, as though Inglor's low disposition had clouded its natural brilliance.

"I am truly sorry, Master Beregnil," Haleth said regretfully. "I cannot accept the combs as a gift."

"I see," Beregnil said. His dark eyes glinted with a quick stab of pain. Haleth looked upon him with sudden, unhappy comprehension. For all that she could see the signs directed at others, specifically Inglor, she had completely missed those directed at her.

Then the Master of Lake Town put the combs back into his belt pouch. "If you could promise me something, Lady," he said softly.

"If it is in my power to give," she said quietly.

"Once you have completed the task you have set for yourself, if you find yourself free, return to claim them."

Haleth thought uncomfortably of her dream from the previous nights; standing alone on slippery, sea-washed rocks, watching the white ship sail away from her.

"I promise you that," she said, trying unsuccessfully to shake the image from her mind. "But I truly doubt that I will ever be free."

"One can hope, Lady," he said softly.

"Indeed," she smiled sadly. "One can hope."

Inglor chose that moment to noisily descend the stairs. Haleth looked at him with a mixture of wonder and annoyance. He never made any sound unless he meant to do so; the racket was a deliberate intrusion. She suspected that he had been at the top of the stairs and had witnessed the entirely scene.

They made their polite farewells. With a magnificent flourish, Inglor gave Mrs. Bass a flower, a chrysanthemum of deep rusty red. Haleth never learned how he had come by it. She strongly suspected that it would be carefully preserved and saved by the widow for the rest of her life. Inglor himself seemed happier than he had been in three days.

At last they were out the door, making their way through the perpetual crowd of the Market Square to the docks below. Haleth felt Beregnil's eyes on her until she climbed down the ladder to the docks and disappeared from his view.

They crossed the Long Lake to the western shore by ferry. A small settlement had grown on the bank to accommodate travellers and the ferry crews who ran back and forth from the mainland to Lake Town. A small wooden inn and several ramshackle houses lined the shore. Children ran riot in the muddy streets, playing a game only they could understand. Inglor caught their attention and they immediately began to follow him.

Haleth had to smile as she watched them tagging along like iron filings drawn to a moving magnet. At first they were quiet and hung back, whispering excitedly among themselves. Their soft murmurings were soon punctuated with giggles which grew progressively louder until they almost drowned out the deep roar of the Long Falls.

She glanced questioningly at Inglor, who grinned widely at her, abruptly stopped and spun around.

This was met by a collective intake of breath as the children fell silent and drew back in anticipation of a scolding. Their upturned faces watched the elf with a mixture of fear and wonder. Then Inglor smiled and held out his hands. The children shrieked in delight and swarmed around him, a tide of shouting and laughter in plain homespun.

They made poor time on the path to the Long Falls. Inglor carried a small girl on his shoulders. She gently stroked his hair with her tiny fingers. He held another two children by the hand. Even Haleth found herself with two guides when a boy and a girl, about the same age, took a hold of her after finding Inglor's already claimed.

All along the way they were regaled with stories of how each child's father was the strongest man in Lake Town and how the boys would be just like their fathers when they grew up. Inglor tried not to wince as the child on his shoulders began tangling her fingers into his smooth hair and pulling.

At last they reached the path down the escarpment. Inglor freed his hands and gently put the girl who had been on his shoulders down. Several strands of his hair were entwined around her fingers. Haleth watched with some amusement as she very deliberately untangled them and crammed them into a pocket.

Inglor told the children gently but firmly that they could follow no further. Haleth waved good-bye to the raggedy band as they reluctantly made their way back to their homes.

"We had best hurry," he said as he studied the position of the sun. "We are late."

Even rushing it took them the better part of the afternoon to climb down the long, zigzag path that had been hewn into the face of the rock bordering the Long Falls. The trail was wide and broad, but slippery from the spray. Porters struggled upwards, bent almost double under heavy packs. Men driving heavily laden donkeys shuffled up and down the trail. The amount of traffic made for some interesting moments when two large groups going in opposite directions met at a narrow part of the footpath. At several points Haleth found herself balancing along the barest of ledges while men and donkeys sorted themselves out on the wider part of the track. She did not have to look back to know that Inglor was directly behind her, poised to catch her if she lost her footing. As always, this irritated her more than it comforted her. There was no time to dwell upon it, though.

Some of the larger packages were brought up the escarpment by an ingenious system of ropes and pulleys. There were wide ledges at regular intervals where porters struggled to detach crates and barrels from one leg of the pulley system and attach them to the next. When possible, similar sized packages were used as counterweights from the top. Strong armed men worked the pulleys, sending the trade goods that fueled the markets Esgaroth up or down the cliff.

Several women with baskets strapped to their backs passed them. They would stop at the various ledges to sell food and drink to the labourers.

At last they reached the bottom of the cliff. A wide gravel road led to the shore and the docks where a heavily laden river barge waited. The boat was big enough to accommodate a large amount of cargo as well as passengers. Two masts sprouted from the deck and a bank of oars lined the sides. The gangplank lay open to the dock.

Inglor waved to someone on the deck. Haleth squinted in the direction of his wave and thought she recognised the tall, slim figure of Ethirwen, her raven locks floating in the western wind. As Haleth watched, she raised her arm to acknowledge Inglor's greeting. Not wanting to be rude, Haleth waved a greeting as well.

"It was very kind of Lady Ethirwen to arrange passage for us," Inglor said.

"Yes, it was," Haleth agreed, keeping her reservations about Ethirwen's possible ulterior motives to herself.

They made their way up the gangplank, Ethirwen waiting for them at the top. A gruff looking man with a bright shock of orange-red hair and a bushy beard of the same colour stood by her side.

"Good day to you, Lord Inglor," Ethirwen said.

"Good day to you, Lady Ethirwen," Inglor bowing deeply.

"Good day, Lady Ethirwen," Haleth said, fully expecting to be ignored.

"Good day to you, Lady Haleth," Ethirwen smiled with genuine delight.

"This is Dorlas," she introduced the red-headed man at her side. "He is the captain of this vessel."

"Welcome aboard," Captain Dorlas said abruptly. "We've been expecting you."

They were apparently the last passengers to arrive. The cargo had already been loaded.

"Come," Ethirwen said, "I will show you to your cabins. Do you have any other luggage?"

"No, Lady," replied Inglor. "We travel lightly."

"Very well, then," she said. "Please come."

Ethirwen led them past the banks of rowers to the passenger's area. They entered a low door into a dark, narrow hallway which led down the length of the ship.

"Here, you will have need of these," she said, handing each of them a small, shielded lantern. "Use them to light your cabin. Please try to burn them as little as possible. Captain Dorlas does not approve of the use of fire on his vessel. He tolerates it among the paying passengers, but only barely."

Haleth dug her tinderbox from her pack and expertly lit her lamp. Inglor used her lamp to ignite his own. They proceeded up the hallway.

"This is your room, Lord Inglor," Ethirwen said, pressing a key into Inglor's hand.

"You are to be his neighbour, Lady Haleth," she added, handing Haleth another key.

"I apologise if you find the rooms small. Space is limited on a boat. Shall I see you above decks once you have settled in?"

"Certainly," Haleth said smoothly. She wondered where, exactly, Ethirwen's cabin was and if she had a spare key for Inglor's door. She would undoubtedly find out soon enough.

Haleth unlocked her door and entered her cabin. The only piece of furniture in the room was a narrow bed, and it took up most of the space. If she turned sideways, there was just enough room for her to pass between it and the wall. Two drawers, side by side, were beneath the bed.

Another small lantern was hung from the wooden wall. She lit that lamp, extinguished the first and placed her pack on the bed. The cramped, dim room was already oppressive. Haleth opened the door to admit the faint, natural light and held the door open while she extinguished the wall lantern.

Inglor was already in the hallway.

"Shall we go above decks?" he asked.

"It's much preferable to here," Haleth said.

Together they passed into the sunshine.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Haleth stood near the stern of the boat and gazed into the water. The day was pleasant enough with the sun shining around white, fluffy clouds. Behind her, the rowers sang, their voices raised in off-key harmony. There were many pauses in the music where they skipped some of the more colourful lyrics. The Captain, who held the ship's tiller, looked positively grim. He had undoubtedly warned them not to offend Ethirwen's sensibilities.

Haleth had been pleasantly surprised by Ethirwen, who was a far more pleasant travelling companion than expected. The merchant was a wealth of information about the people of Dorwinion and their customs. She also made a point of including Haleth in the conversation, which Haleth found refreshing. Ethirwen's even division of attention between herself and Inglor gave Haleth hope that this intelligent and charming woman held no designs upon the elf. The trio usually spent the day in quiet conversation and shared the evening meal.

Two incidents prevented Haleth from enjoying the voyage as much as she should have.

The first had occurred when she noticed a scruffy, dark-haired, bearded man giving Inglor the evil eye from behind one of the masts. When she had approached him, he disappeared. In spite of keeping a careful watch, she had yet to see him again.

The second occurred below decks. An older crewman had blocked her way in the corridor. He was a large, burly man with arms the size of young tree trunks, an unkempt mop of brown hair and an equally wild beard. He nodded at her and grinned in what he probably thought was a friendly manner. The effect was rather alarming as his large, uneven, yellow teeth glinted in the faint light of Haleth's lantern.

"You're travellin' with the elf, dearie?" he had asked her in a friendly whisper.

"Yes," Haleth had whispered suspiciously.

"You'd best be watchin' that Ethirwen," he had said whine shaking his head in warning, "She's a bad 'un, she is."

"Lady Ethirwen has been nothing but kind to me," Haleth had said.

"Up till now, yeah," he had said, looking over his shoulder to be certain that there was no one within hearing distance. "But keep your guard up. She wants yon elf and you're in her way. I've seen it afore. Mind what I tol' ya."

He had rolled up the corridor, leaving an astonished Haleth behind him.

She was wondering about the first man when Ethirwen and Inglor, deep in conversation, joined her. The reflexive pang of jealousy stabbed her heart when she noticed them together and she quickly stifled it. What did it matter if Inglor was popular with women? He was not for her and their time together was drawing to a close.

Forcing a smile to her face, she joined in the conversation.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

The next day found the three of them in their usual position near the stern, well behind the rowers. For the most part, the boat kept to the centre of the channel, avoiding the shifting sandbars and other unseen obstacles beneath the brown waters of the River Running.

The rowers were large, boisterous men who, for all that they worked, obviously considered the trip downriver as a holiday. Haleth saw the man who had warned her rowing several times. He winked at her when he had noticed her icy attention and then ignored her.

The men were quite merry, exchanging jokes and ribald comments. Their raucous laughter often interrupted the trio's quiet conversations. There was nothing to do but to wait until the amusement died down before trying to speak again. Haleth never did try to discover what they found so amusing, though she could make a few educated guesses. Inglor likely heard every single word each one of them said, but he neither reacted nor relayed any of the comments.

Occasionally the boat would have to veer closer to the eastern shore when they passed another vessel heading north. The rowers on these boats worked much harder. Often the vessels sailing upstream had tow ropes fastened to them so that men and draft animals on the western shore could aid in the battle against the current.

The weather had grown warmer on their journey south and Haleth found herself rolling up her sleeves and wishing for lighter clothing. Ethirwen had graciously loaned her a brown-red dress of light cotton. The merchant from Lake Town was a fair amount taller than Haleth, though, and Haleth found herself constantly rolling up her sleeves. In spite of the warning, or possibly even because of it, Haleth had found herself unable to dislike Ethirwen, who was quite charming.

Haleth told Ethirwen about the mechanical bird she had purchased in Dale. She rushed to her cabin to show it to both Ethirwen, who was likely accustomed to such wonders, and to Inglor, who was accustomed to far greater wonders and unlikely to be impressed.

They exclaimed over it anyways, much to Haleth's delight.

The sun was westering and the captain issuing orders to have the vessel anchor for the night when Inglor sniffed the air and said "Something's burning."

A shout of alarm went up and men came scurrying from unexpected places like ants whose hill had been disturbed.

Captain Dorlas began to shout urgent orders as smoke poured out of the passenger's area.

Both Inglor and Haleth joined the bucket brigade and helped to pass water belowdecks. Ethirwen hesitated and then joined as well. It seemed as though it took hours of desperate sloshing and passing buckets, though it was no more than a quarter of an hour before the blaze was out.

The trio remained above decks. Captain Dorlas disappeared below. He quickly reappeared and immediately descended upon Haleth.

"What's the meaning of this?" he shouted.

"Excuse me?" she asked.

"You nearly set my boat on fire with those firecrackers of yours. What kind of an idiot leaves something like that next to an open flame, I'll never know. Do you have any idea what you almost did? I've put people ashore for far less. In fact, I've half a mind to throw you overboard myself!"

"Excuse me, Captain Dorlas," Ethirwen interrupted smoothly. "This woman came at my insistence. You can hardly put her off the boat without putting me off the boat as well."

This gave the Captain reason to pause. Ethirwen was wealthy and powerful, it would do him no good to antagonize her. Still, he was Captain and he would not be seen giving in to a passenger, even one such as Ethirwen.

The merchant seemed to be aware of this.

"Perhaps if she stayed in the hold?" she suggested. "She could hardly get into trouble there."

"If Haleth goes to the hold, so do I," chimed in Inglor. By the look on the Captain's face, he had approved of this suggestion.

"No, Inglor," Haleth said, thinking of the dark haired man, "It would likely only cause more problems. I will go alone."

The Captain barked out orders and two crewmen escorted her to the hatch which led to the hold.

"Don't worry," Ethirwen said to Inglor, her voice filled with sympathy, her hand resting lightly upon his arm, "I have every confidence that Haleth can look after herself. She is a most resourceful woman, although she never said very much about herself. Could you tell me more about her?"

Inglor watched Haleth being led away by two crewmen. The Captain followed her progress with far less sympathy. When she had disappeared down the hatch at the front of the boat, Inglor sighed.

"I could," he said, watching the empty air above the hatch. "But not, I think, tonight. Would you please excuse me, Lady Ethirwen?" He gently pulled his arm from beneath Ethirwen's hand and walked lightly towards the hatch.

"Lord Inglor," Ethirwen whispered. She had followed him along the deck. "Did Haleth not ask you to remain above deck?"

"Yes," Inglor said. "But..."

"Please forgive my forwardness, Lord Inglor," Ethirwen interrupted him. "But even with the little I know of your adventures together, it seems to me that you are better ruled by her advice when dealing with Aftercomers. She knows our ways better."

"So you believe she is correct?" Inglor asked.

"Although the answer brings you pain, yes, I believe she is correct," Ethirwen answered slowly, choosing her words with care.

"Then I shall have to heed her advice," Inglor said with a wry smile.

"Thank-you, Lord Inglor," Ethirwen said, visibly relaxing.

"No, thank-you, Lady," Inglor said. "And although the stars are bright, I bid you good night."

"But the smoke," Ethirwen said.

"Will not bother me overmuch," Inglor said, bowing. "Again, good night."

Ethirwen watched his lithe figure disappear into the blackness of the passenger area. When she was certain he was gone she went back to her station at the side of the boat near the stern. She studied the far, eastern shore. The boat had been anchored for the night, it being too dangerous to sail in this area without the sun's illumination. She rubbed her thumb and fingertips together and stood sentinel as she made her quiet, careful plans.

Inglor lay in the close, stinking air of his cabin and worried about Haleth. He knew very well that the she had survived long years without him, but events of the recent past showed that she was vulnerable and did, on occasion, require help; even if she did have to be unconscious before accepting it. There was something strange about the fire. He resolved to get to the bottom of it, literally. He would visit Haleth.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Haleth descended the ladder that led to the cargo area. It was almost completely dark amid the stacks of crates and barrels. There were several small lamps suspended from the crossbeams. The small, dim circles of light they shed illuminated a tiny area of the hold. The rest remained an inky pit of oblivion.

She reached the bottom and peered into the surrounding blackness, waiting for the crewmen to make a comment like 'And stay down there!'. They remained disappointingly silent, climbing back up the ladder without a word. The hatch swung closed, blocking the small square of stars that hung so far above her.

'They could at least have allowed me to retrieve my pack,' she thought to herself and then realized that most of its contents would have been ruined in the fire.

She knew had extinguished the lamp before leaving her cabin. Someone had deliberately set the fire to implicate her. She needed to find a relatively safe place to station herself so that she could think through the situation.

She inspected the visible cargo. The boxes were piled above her head, but there seemed to be plenty of space between the top of the stack and the ceiling of the hold. Without further hesitation, she scaled the crates.

The hold provided a slightly different picture from the top. It appeared to be an uneven, cracked, wooden floor of various sized tiles. The lamps shed more light up here, closer to their tiny flames.

Haleth picked her way towards one of the lamps, wondering if anyone else were in the hold with her. If Dorlas had left lamps lit, there had to be someone. That theoretical someone could remain hidden in the blackness for quite some time, secretly watching her movements.

There was one particularly tall stack of boxes to her right. Moving like a cat, she made her way to the topmost crate. The deep shadows betrayed no sign of current occupation. This would be where she would make her bed, at least for the rest of the night. Hopefully someone would bring her some water, food and blankets tomorrow. She seated herself on the hard, wooden box and began to think.

She had not set the fire; the lamp had been out when she had left the room. The only possible explanation was that someone else had set the fire. Who could that possibly have been and why would they have done it? If they had actively been attempting to burn the boat, they had chosen a particularly bad place for their arson. A fire in the hold would not have been noticed nearly as quickly as a fire in the passenger's compartments. It was possible that the fire had only been a distraction. But a distraction for what? And why in Haleth's locked cabin? No, her cabin had been deliberately chosen.

So what had the arsonist hoped to accomplish? Haleth surveyed the part of the hold that she could see from her perch and listened intently to the creaking of the cargo and the whispering skittering of small, unseen animals.

Who would deliberately target Haleth? She carried nothing of value. Why have her thrown off the boat?

A dark possibility reared up from her subconscious; if Ethirwen had wanted to be rid of Haleth as a potential rival, this would be one way to do it. Except Ethirwen had convinced Captain Dorlas to not put Haleth ashore, so that could not be right either. She felt relieved in dismissing this particular possibility as she genuinely liked Ethirwen and wanted to believe the best of her.

It was possible that one of the Hosluin was attempting to slow their progress by having Haleth thrown off the boat. But why have her thrown off the boat when it would be so much easier to simply kill her? Now that she thought of it, it would be relatively easy to murder someone in the hold.

Her eyes darted around the dark spaces. She shook her head and rubbed her eyes. She had to stop frightening herself. She had thought she had seen a figure descending the ladder.

Haleth strained her ears all the harder, but the only thing audible was the scraping of small claws on wood.

Even if the Hosluin killed her, there would still be Inglor. For all that she knew how to deal with men, Haleth knew that in an open battle, Inglor would be far more formidable a foe than her. So why try to kill her when it would be so much more effective to kill Inglor?

Unless the plan actually had been to have her put ashore, in which case Inglor undoubtedly would have gone as well. Once on land, it would be a simple matter for two travellers to vanish. Haleth had seen Inglor fight on several occasions and knew that he possessed much strength and skill, but she doubted he could win against a large group of men who were determined to see him dead. If that was the case, they both owed Ethirwen a great deal for interceding on Haleth's behalf.

She caught herself twisting the silver ring. The idea of someone trying to murder Inglor made her far more angry than the thought of someone trying to kill her.

If one of the Hosluin was aboard the boat, they would have to find him and expose him before he made his next move. But who could it possibly be? Haleth thought of the man she had seen glaring at Inglor their first day aboard. She had watched for him, but had not seen him since. She was searching her memory for any outstanding details about him when a hand suddenly appeared over the edge of her crate.

Haleth's knife whispered death as she drew it from its sheath. She held the blade low, ready to stab at the face her hunter, when Inglor's familiar blond head cleared the top of the crate.

"Hello, Haleth," he said quietly.

"Good evening, Inglor," she said pleasantly after taking a long, deep breath to steady herself.

"I thought I asked you to not come down here," she added as she sheathed her knife.

"You did," Inglor agreed, "But it is the middle of the night and the only other woman on the boat is Ethirwen and she is likely asleep so it seemed fairly safe."

"I don't know," Haleth whispered doubtfully. "I don't believe the Captain would be at all happy to know you are here."

"What he does not know will not hurt us," Inglor shrugged.

He smiled at Haleth's raised eyebrows. "What?"

"You've got to stop spending so much time around humans," she observed. "You're beginning to pick up our speech patterns, and worse, our facial expressions."

Inglor mimicked the look on Haleth's face to perfection and they both laughed quietly.

"I brought you a few things," he said. He handed her a small bag. Inside was a flask and dried fruit.

"You have my most grateful thanks, most thoughtful elf!" said Haleth, who was becoming rather thirsty.

"Now who is taken on the mannerisms of the other kindred?" he asked.

"Oh come now, we Second Born know courtesy, we simply chose not to practice it most of the time," said Haleth, opening the flask and taking a quick sip. She offered it to Inglor, but he shook his head.

He looked around the hold. "I think it would be better if we moved over there." He pointed to a completely dark area, far from the dim circles of light thrown by the lamps.

"Are you certain?" Haleth asked as she peered doubtfully into the utter darkness.

"You're too visible here," he answered. Without waiting for her to argue, he picked up the sack he brought and gracefully leapt downwards to the next crate.

Haleth followed him over the uneven wooden paving of the cargo. It quickly became almost impossible for her to see and she found herself isolated in the soft blackness, trying to follow Inglor using hearing rather than sight. This also proved hopeless as he made no discernable sound. Only faint air currents told of his passing, and these quickly dissipated in the stale air of the hold.

Moving by guesswork, Haleth soon found her foot in thin air. She had to literally throw herself backwards to keep from falling. A strong, steady hand caught her at the elbow before she could tumble.

"I can't see," she whispered.

"I will guide you." The words seemed to appear in her mind without having passed either Inglor's lips or Haleth's ears.

A strong arm snaked around her waist. Haleth had to force herself to relax at Inglor's touch as he drew her against his side. She quickly looked downwards and away from him to hide her face while she regained her composure. Inglor had the most distracting way of helping that Haleth could possibly imagine.

Whether it was another elven talent or because they had been together for many years, Haleth now found it quite easy to judge each step or leap without benefit of her eyes. It was unsettling and yet pleasant to be jumping through the utter blackness, trusting herself entirely to Inglor's senses. It was an unpleasant shock when he stopped and withdrew his arm.

"It is safe to sit down," he whispered.

She slowly lowered herself until she was seated on top of the crate.

"Wait here. I am going to look around," he whispered.

"Just let me know when you get back," she replied, thinking of her knives.

She waited in the darkness, watching the triple circles of light for any sign of movement and listening intently for any out of place sound.

"I am returning," a soft voice said in her mind. She sensed the air currents that heralded Inglor's movement rather than actually hearing him.

"Did you find anything?" she asked.

"Yes," he said. "Someone has set up a small nest among the crates just beyond the reach of the light. Whoever it is, he is not home at the moment. I do not need to tell you that you shall have to watch for him.

"There was something most strange about the fire," Inglor suddenly changed the subject.

"There certainly was," Haleth agreed.

In hushed voices they spent most of the remainder of the night discussing possible reasons behind the suspicious fire. Haleth shared all of her theories except for the one which involved Ethirwen. Once she has realized that Ethirwen may very well have saved her and Inglor from a plot of the Hosluin, she was far too ashamed to mention her suspicions.

Inglor seemed to agree that the Hosluin were behind the arson and that the mysterious stranger was most likely their agent. There was nothing they could do in the present circumstances except to watch carefully.

"Should we take Ethirwen into our confidence?" Haleth asked at one point.

"No," Inglor said quickly.

"It's far too dangerous," he explained at her startled silence. "It's bad enough having to worry about one woman without having to worry about two."

"I can look after myself," Haleth said automatically while simultaneously wrestling with the green-eyed monster.

"I know you can," he agreed pleasantly. "I simply intend to help you."

Haleth shook her head and chuckled. "Is there really any point in arguing about this?"

She could sense his grin, even in the dark.

"I didn't think so," she said, resigned.

"You'd better go," Haleth said suddenly. "You shouldn't be caught here."

"I am not certain that would be wise," Inglor said quietly. "It may not be safe for you down here alone."

"If you mean that this man could kill me, you are right, but I doubt that he would bother. Someone from the crew will be bringing me food. If I were to die, it would only draw attention to the arsonist," Haleth said. "Besides, you're by far the more dangerous of us. They'll target you first."

"I would also be more difficult to kill," he said.

"All the more reason to kill you first," she insisted. "Besides, you can't stay down here all of the time and protect me. If both of us were confined, how would we ever catch this Hosluin?"

"You are right," he said with the characteristic mildness. "I should be going.

"Please, take this," he said, unclasping his cloak and placing it around her shoulders. It was light but warm. "No one should see it if you fold it and find a place for it during the day. It is too cold for you to sleep comfortably without some kind of covering."

She opened her mouth to protest and immediately closed it again. Some things were worth fighting over. This was not one of them. She did not want to spend the night contemplating her next apology.

"Thank-you," was all she said.

"Inglor?" Haleth said as he made ready to leave.

"Yes?" he asked.

"I'm glad you came," she said, smiling.

"As am I," he answered. "Good night."

"Good night."