Chapter Twenty Two - Nightmare Awakening

A knock. Footsteps. A door creaking open. More footsteps. Murmured salutations.

"Any change?"

"None, yet he's still mumbling in his sleep."

Footsteps, closer this time.

"At least he's stopped vomiting in his sleep."

A soft laugh. A cool hand touched his forehead.

"His temperature's back up. Has Aurora been by?"

"Yes. Left a while ago. Said that someone in the village was having stomach pains and wanted her to look at them. She thinks the woman might be pregnant."

"It would be good if she was." A sigh. "Too many loved ones have been lost already."

A moment of silence. "How's Caled doing?"

A stressed sigh. "No change. The wounds that transferred aren't healing. It might be due to the head injury she received."

"Ever notice how many times that girl has injured her poor head?"

A chuckle. "Yes, I'm beginning to believe she's a bit top heavy. But the other wounds healed fine. It's only the lacerations on her chest and abdomen that remain."

"Maybe it's because of the transfer that they won't heal."

"Most likely."

"Does Mornie have an idea as to why?"

"Several. Yet he seems to think the answer lies in what Caled was focusing on at the time the arch struck them."

"I thought it was the fact that he was about to die."

"It's possible, but we can't tell until she wakes up and answers the question herself."

"And there's no telling when that will be. It's already been a week."

"Healing is a slow process."

"Is she in a coma?"

Silence.

"Is she?"

"...We don't know."


Light shone in through the window behind the bed, dust filtering through the beams. Voices could be heard through the glass as well as beyond the door. The room was small yet well furnished.

His head ached.

Legolas sat up slowly. He squinted against the sunlight, shading his eyes as he swung his legs off the bed. Where was he? The room seemed familiar but he could not place where he had seen it before.

He frowned. Something in the back of his mind was telling him that his current location was not important. There was something else that was important, very important.

With a rush it all came back to him. Everything he had seen.

A wave of nausea struck him at the memory. Seeing a pail beside the bed, Legolas grabbed it just before his stomach emptied itself. He heaved, gasping for breath as the images flashed across his mind's eye.

The cell filled with battered children, their eyes speaking of horrors that words never could. Caled being sold to Saruman. Caled being comforted by her brother, afraid because he had been punished because of her. Caled being cursed by the wizard, screaming at just the mere touch of him. Caled and the others trying to run away only to be hunted down, her brother killed before her. Caled chained to the wall like an animal. Then Caled...and the Orc that had...

Legolas shut his eyes, willing himself not to think of that. Yet it would not stop. With another heave, the scene flew before his eyes again.

Caled, sobbing on the ground. The Orc tearing her clothes. Her hoarse screams...


It had been so quiet on the other side of the door-no noise whatsoever-that Dias did not notice Legolas sitting up on the bed until he was through the door, across the room, and sitting down in a spare chair. When he glanced over at the bed by pure reflex, the white haired Elf blinked, staring. "You're awake," he blurted after several seconds of silence.

Legolas nodded slightly, eyes staring at his hands in his lap. Dias noticed the frightened look in those eyes and stood up as if to cross over yet stopped, unsure if it would be wise. For while, neither spoke.

A child's laughter rang from the market outside the window. The sound-whether from the high pitched tone it had or for some other reason-caused Legolas to look up, fixing the far wall with his gaze. "Where is Caled?"

Dias flinched. "She's...she's in another room. She's...unconscious...she has been since-" He broke off, not certain of what to say.

"How long?" Legolas said quietly.

"Nearly two weeks," was the quiet reply.

Legolas breathed deeply, and then slowly let it out. He closed his eyes, raising a hand to rub his forehead, forcing his mind away from the dreams he had. "What happened after I fell?"

Dias opened his mouth, stopped, sighed, and sat back down in the chair. "In all honesty I don't know. There might not be any words to truthfully explain what happened."

"Try."

Dias thought for a moment, nodded to him, then flicked a bracelet from his wrist into his palm. Hearing his movements, Legolas opened his eyes to see what he was doing.

Dias uttered something under his breath and the bracelet flashed brightly before expanding. It formed into his staff. Dias stood, holding his staff perpendicular to the ground. He raised his other hand in front of him, making a loose fist with his forefinger limply pointing at the ground. He began to chant, staring in the direction he was pointing. Silver light flickered through his eyes, never blinking. Slowly his finger began to sway back and forth. A mist seemed to pour from his fingertip, collecting in the shape of a large globe resting on the floor. When it was fully formed, Dias stepped back and prodded the globe with his staff until it hung in the air between him and Legolas. Righting his staff, he touched the jeweled ornament at its top to his forehead. A small streak of lightning flashed in that space as he pulled his staff back. He glanced over the globe at Legolas as if to wait for his signal. Legolas nodded, and Dias drove the staff's top into the globe.

The mist began to crackle as the sky did during a storm. Streaks of lightning arched within yet did not stray from the confines of the globe. Then the mist began to circle and the lightning traced its edges as it formed a flatter shape. The mist glowed softly.

An image burst into being within the mist, distorting whenever a streak of lightning went through it. It showed Caled staring in shock at Legolas as he defended her against the Reaper, its claws dug deep into his torso. The view shifted, focusing on Aurora who looked scared.

"An arrow! Quick!" Dias' voice shouted, the sound somewhat fuzzy.

Aurora opened her mouth to reply but it turned into a shriek of horror.

The view snapped back. The Reaper had just torn through Legolas' chest, throwing him back into Caled. The image shook then started to grow closer to Caled and Legolas but a Reaper appeared in front. A quick slash of the sword later and that problem was solved. Denya swung past, running towards Caled and Legolas as a blue eyed Reaper advanced on the two. Caled looked up at the Reaper, then down at Legolas. Her face screwed up in an expression of pure sorrow as she buried her face in his blood stained chest and screamed, "NO!"

A blinding light literally erupted from Caled's huddled form. It poured like molten lava in waves from her and engulfed the Reaper. Within seconds it was reduced to a smoldering pile of ash. The Reaper Elite leapt back, avoiding the light. They barked orders at the remaining Reapers, urging them to attack her.

Caled suddenly reared her head back, screaming, "Not like Theo! Not like Theo!"

The light was pulled back to her only to be swung out again in a large sweeping arch. Whenever it struck a Reaper the being vanished into thin air.

The image tilted then was flung down to the ground. Darin's voice came from the side, "Idiot! Get down!"

When the image focused on Caled again, the arch was near her yet she was staring down at the unconscious Legolas. One hand was gripping his shirt above his heart and the other was holding his head to her chest as if to protect him. Her eyes were wide and even from a distance her pupils could be seen; they were severely dilated.

Then the arch struck them both.

For a moment nothing could be seen but the light now contained to that spot. Then the silhouette of Caled and Legolas showed through. It flickered, moving as if melding together, then finally separated.

There was an explosion and the image turned black.

With a wave of his staff, Dias dispelled the globe. It evaporated, leaving behind a faint smell of burning metal. "When I came to," he said, "all the Reapers were gone and the others were just coming to. We immediately checked on you and Caled. We were astounded by what we found."

At this, Legolas frowned but said nothing.

Dias looked over at him. "Haven't you wondered why your wounds aren't hurting you?"

Legolas started to reply it was because they were healing but stopped, raising hand to touch his chest. The skin was unmarred. Surprised, he opened his shirt to confirm it. Yes, he was unharmed.

"All your wounds were gone," Dias continued. "Not even a scratch remained. What's more, when carrying you here Tan accidentally bumped you against a tree, scraping your right arm. You won't find it there," he added as Legolas reflexively looked at his arm. "It did not show up. All of your wounds had transferred..." Dias hesitated for a moment, "...transferred...to Caled."

Legolas stared at him, almost as if he was waiting for the punch line of a joke that would never come. "My wounds-Caled now has my wounds," he said.

Dias nodded.

"How-"

With a deep sigh Dias cut in, "We don't know. All we know is Caled is now sporting several deep gashes in her stomach and chest that she did not receive firsthand. There's no other explanation for it." He shrugged. He watched Legolas, gauging his reaction to the news.

Legolas was looking off into space, thinking hard. He ran a hand through his hair, brow furrowing in deep thought. He was silent for so long, Dias simply took his seat again, waiting.

"Theo."

Dais blinked, startled out of his daze.

Legolas' eyes were wide with both understanding and fear. "Theo...She saw him...in the dungeon, the workroom, out in Mordor...that's why..."

"Legolas, what are you talking about?" Dias said, concerned.

"I saw things when I was unconscious," Legolas said. "Things I never should have seen." He met Dias' gaze. "I believe it was Caled's memories."


It was a bit surprising when Legolas was told that the village they were staying in was the same one they had helped on their first time through. During the time after their first visit the village had finally finished repairs left over from the Orc attack. Matthew was still adjusting to his new role as village head yet everyone was doing their part to make sure he felt welcomed in the position. Kain had since been wed to a young woman, who was about two months pregnant Aurora told them with a grin. Though she did not directly say so, it seemed that in the medicine she had left them was an herb that increased a woman's chances of becoming pregnant. Her reasoning was that after losing so many loved ones the survivors needed something to fill the void.

As soon as he was well enough-being unconscious for almost two weeks left him weak and it took a few days of Aurora's medicine and plenty of what she called "home cooking" to help him regain his strength-Legolas tried to see Caled. Both Clad and Rali stopped him as they had been placed as guards to the room she was in, saying that Aurora's orders were quite plain and simple: no one was allowed in the room.

"Are we quite sure that little snooze he took didn't damage his brain?" Darin snorted into his drink, avoiding Aurora's admonishing glare. It was just after another one of Legolas' attempt at getting in to see Caled, a rather bold move of trying to enter through the window. It would have succeeded had it not been for the fact that Dias had set up an illusion around Caled's room, causing the Elf Prince's vision of the desire window to be disrupted and instead entered the adjoining room. As it turned out, the neighboring window's occupant had been quite thrilled at the intrusion and was thanking the poor Elf over at the bar.

"He's just restless," Aurora said, plucking a slice of meat off the plate in the middle of their table before Tan could snatch it. She smiled smugly at the pouting Elf, fixing herself a sandwich with the remaining cheese and rolls. "Besides, with what Dias told him, he's probably imagining horrid things about Caled's condition."

"I did the best I could," Dias interjected sulkily.

"I know you did," Aurora soothed, patting his arm.

"It's not like she's gonna die," Denya said, eyes flicking over to Legolas. "She just can't cope with the physical strain the new injuries caused. Anyways, I'm beginning to believe Mornie's theory about how her mind powers went a bit crazy back there when Le-when they were attacked," she hastily amended, hiding her eyes from Darin and Tan's puzzled gazes.

"Well, when your 'mind powers,' as you put it, are linked to your emotions, they tend to get out of hand," Dias said.

"Then why not before now?" Darin asked, grabbing the bottle out of Denya's hand to pour himself another drink. "She's been pretty upset before. What about when the Shadow Elves were attacked? She was really mad and-" He stopped, frowning at the clear liquid he had just poured into his mug. He sniffed it then looked over at Denya in question. "Vinegar?"

"Laying off the booze for a while," Denya said vaguely. "Water didn't have enough of a kick."

Making a face, Darin dumped his drink into Denya's mug. "Help yourself; my stomach's not made of iron."

"Back to your question," Tan cut in, "Caled's never been in a situation like that: cornered, injured, weapons useless, can't think straight from the panic so she won't use her fire or plant abilities for fear of hurting one of us, so sure she's about to be impaled. Then the one who's received the brunt of her biased opinion on male Elves ends up nearly killing himself to save her. I'm surprised she didn't faint straight away. Then you have to think about what Legolas said after he woke up."

At Darin's confused look and when Tan simply stood from the table to order more food, Dias picked up with, "Legolas said he saw things when he was asleep. Things he would never have normally seen. This isn't a normal case, though. You've heard of the Law of Equal Trade, right?"

"Basis for the Theory of Alchemy," Darin nodded. "You have to give something of equal value for the thing you desire. Not enough of the raw materials and it won't turn out right, too much and you might get something different."

"It also applies the fact that matter cannot be created or destroyed somewhere in there," Aurora added.

"But what does that fit in-"

"I'm getting there," Dias interrupted. "Now, it is a fact that the wounds Legolas got in the fight and a little while after-namely the lacerations on the chest and stomach-vanished from his body and reappeared on Caled's."

"Right, right, already know that," Darin prodded.

"Put simply: Legolas' physical injuries went to Caled. Correct?"

Darin grunted, becoming annoyed at the repetition. He snatched a roll from the plate Tan brought back.

"So what did Legolas get?"

Darin blinked, caught off guard by the question. Brow furrowed, he straightened in his chair. "What do you mean?"

"Think to the Law of Equal Trade," Dias prompted. "What is the equivalent of a physical ailment?"

For a few moments, Darin looked blankly at him. Then, "Another ailment? A mental one?"

"Correct," Dias said. "A physical ailment for a mental ailment. One of equal stress. Well, it stands to reason that Caled had a slew of mental ailments from all those spells she had cast on her before," here Dias sneered, disgusted by the memory. "And by deduction, her life was pretty hard after that kidnapping ordeal, whatever it was."

Denya shifted, eyes briefly glowing as an angered snarl softly crossed her lips. This went by unnoticed.

"The problem is that there are too many ailments on her end. Something had to set the standard, to set limits in accordance with Equal Trade."

"Legolas' wounds," Darin said, slapping the table.

"Legolas' wounds," Dias repeated, nodding. "Whatever causes this used his wounds as measurement for the switch. In short, Legolas took on a mental wound from Caled while she took his physical wound."

"And that just depressed you," Denya sighed.

Aurora frowned. "How so?"

Taking a swig of the vinegar-much to Darin's disgust-Denya looked them all in the eye. "Whatever her ailment was, it was the same as having your chest and stomach ripped open. And it came from her memories." She looked over at Legolas in an almost pitying manner. "It's no wonder then that he wants to see her so badly. He wants to know whether or not what he saw was real."


Aurora hummed a lighthearted tune to herself, gladly tapping mugs with a man beside her. Judging by the hazy way his eyes titled he would be dropping within five or so minutes. Unless he increased the amount of alcohol he was drinking, then it would be sooner.

It was only their fifth week in the village yet this was the eighth wedding to be celebrated. While a fairly easy way to make a bit of money from all the slight injuries that happened, the parties were a wonder on Aurora's stressed nerves.

Taking a small sip of her beer, Aurora glanced upward and to the left, at the third window to the end of the inn. Her eyes automatically slid away and focused more on the middle window. A frown crossed her face. Caled was still the same, if not a bit worst. Just earlier she had gone in to do her morning checkup to find that Caled's wounds had become infected overnight. When she told everyone this, Legolas had paled severely and Mornie looked dumbfounded. A bit of a chat told her that prior to their meeting with the Guild Caled had suffered a wound from a cursed weapon that reversed healing and encouraged infections.

She sighed, rubbing her forehead. She would give anything to find out what was wrong with Caled. She hated seeing a friend suffer like that, and it pained her to watch as Legolas slowly retreated further and further into himself. He never spoke of the things he had seen, yet she knew it had been horrible. He was going mad with guilt from having viewed Caled private memories.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

Aurora smiled, quickly snatching the small copper bit that was thrown at her. Matthew smiled in return, setting down a giggling toddler. The small girl waddled over to Aurora, pulling at her skirt to be picked up. Bending down, Aurora easily scooped up the child with one hand. "You'd want a refund for my thoughts," Aurora said to Matthew, flipping his coin back to him.

Matthew watched it sail and hit the ground. He shrugged, "A child could put that to better use than I could. Is there anything I can do to help, Lady Aurora?"

Aurora shook her head, shifting to allow the girl to pull at the necklaces she wore. "Not unless you know of a way to wake someone from a coma."

Matthew shook his head regrettably. He opened his mouth to say something but stopped, staring at her.

Aurora looked at him in concern. "Is something wrong?" She mentally checked her disguise, had she activated it correctly? Yes, the slight hum she felt in the back of her neck told her it was working properly.

Matthew seemed to stutter, looking quickly from her to somewhere off in the crowd. Finally he stopped, raised a hand to his forehead, and shook his head with an expression of disbelief.

"Matthew, are you well?" Aurora asked, growing worried.

"Uh-yes. Yes, fine," he said dully.

Aurora raised an eyebrow, unconvinced.

Matthew cleared his throat unnecessarily. "I'm fine," he said again. He glanced again over at Aurora, and then became silent for several moments.

Aurora let him think and amused the girl she was holding. The child had bright blue eyes that squinted every time she grinned. The Half-Elf felt a pang of lost stab at her heart. She recalled someone who had had eyes just like those...

"A funny thing, Lady Aurora," Matthew's voice broke through her reminiscing.

"What is?" she asked.

"When I first saw your brother, Lord Auron, I was surprised."

Aurora frowned. "Surprised at what?"

Matthew chuckled. "I thought it was just an old man's mistake, really. I even checked the posters to make sure."

Aurora's stomach suddenly chilled. Posters? Could he mean...

Not the wanted posters. Please, Valor, don't let him mean the wanted posters.

If Matthew realized the bounty on their heads they would have to run for it and she feared how that would affect Caled. Please let him mean something else.

"Then I realized I was far from mistaken. I was dead on with my guessing." He turned to face her, his face unreadable. "I would never have believed you both would wander into my village, of all places."

Aurora kept her eyes steadily trained on him, her free hand gently easing one of her small bags out of its place inside her sleeve and into her hand. She could easily strike him but making him faint and saying he had had too much to drink would be easier. Then she could warn Auron and they might be able to come up with something.

"When you two left, I had realized it too late. I cannot tell you how much I regretted letting you go. And then, when you appeared again, the dreadful condition you all were in caused it to flee my mind. It was only recently I began to ponder it again."

Aurora nodded her head, pretending to be interested in where this was leading. She could feel sweat trickling down her neck, the girl she was holding was looking worried, having felt her tense suddenly.

Matthew sighed, a smile now spreading across his face. This one she knew, it was a smile of triumph. He reached into the front of his tunic and began to pull something out.

Aurora flipped the bag into a more easily thrown position in her hand. She would let him have his say before knocking him out. Even if he was going to try to collect the bounty, he had given them shelter and helped them. He deserved a chance to be heard.

Aurora was so certain he was pulling out a wanted poster that she was surprised when instead he held a yellowed roll of parchment. Judging from the way he handled it, it was very old and valuable. He carefully untied the leather band holding it closed and raised it to Aurora. "I believe this should speak for itself," he said.

Aurora stared at the rolled parchment, not understanding what was going on. Setting the girl on the ground, she reached out to take the parchment. She mildly noticed the girl running to Matthew, looking to be on the verge of tears.

With a gentle hand, Aurora unrolled the parchment. Now that she held it, she could feel that it was more like a cloth. The passage of time and the oils they had used to preserve it had made it stiff like paper. She carefully eased it open, spreading it out.

For the longest time, Aurora could do nothing but stare, dumbfounded. Somewhere in the back of her mind she registered the sounds of Matthew chuckling, the clinking of mugs, singing, laughing. Deeper still, she was able to pick out the sound of Auron laughing.

The cloth did not hold a display for a reward for their heads. Nor did it proclaim a list of the offenses Aurora and Auron had committed. In fact, there was only one thing written on it: the initials G.C. in the lower right of the cloth.

It was a painting.

A painting of her and Auron.

Aurora felt tears brim her eyes; her mouth had gone slack as she realized what she was looking at. It was unmistakably a scene she had often recalled late in the night or in the early morning. It depicted herself sitting under a tree, bowls and flasks spread out on a blanket, her mixing bowl resting against her crossed legs. She was lifting a small girl into her lap, smiling warmly at the child. Auron stood a little ways away, arms raised to catch the young boy he had just thrown into the air. The grin on his face could not have been rendered more perfectly. That had been the day before Auron's 'failed spell' had sentenced them to death.

As she regained her senses, Aurora noticed something. In the painting she wore a pendant crafted in the shape of a half-circle with swirling designs. Her heart began to thump wildly. She recognized it, but it was slightly off. Her half of the pendant had different patterns.

Slowly, Aurora raised her eyes to meet Matthew's smiling gaze. "H-How?" she stuttered, the whole question lost on its way from her brain to her mouth.

"I knew as soon as I saw Lord Auron," he said. "Of course he was disguised, as you are now. I cannot say truthfully how I knew, I just did." He shrugged.

Aurora dimly shook her head. "No, I mean how-this-who?" She made a motion to the painting.

"Ah, that," Matthew said, nodding. "Take a look at the signature."

Aurora did, frowning. G.C., who was that? Did she know anyone with those initials? G.C. ...G.C. ...

Gloria...

"Gloria!" she gasped.

"Yes," Matthew said. "Gloria Corbis. She painted that when she was barely ten. Said it was something she had to do or else she would forget it."

"How did you find this?" Aurora whispered, softly tracing the image of the girl in the painting. She could still hear that giggling gurgle that always greeted her, brown eyes twinkling and black curls bouncing as the babe crawled to her. Then she saw the little girl she had become, barely three when Aurora had tucked them all in for the last time. Had she known that before dawn would come she would never see Sarah or her children again, she would have stayed with them through the night, committing their faces to memory.

"You could call it a family heirloom."

Aurora's eyes widened, snapping up to gawk at Matthew. The man's smile turned nostalgic. "It has been quite a while since they passed on, and I never had the chance to see my ancestors face to face, but it is a well known fact that the founder of this village had a wife named Sarah and six children, the youngest of which was named Gloria. It is said that for the rest of their life, the children would periodically wander the land, searching for a brother and sister who had helped raise them. A brother and sister who had been very close to their dear mother. A brother and sister they yearned desperately to find again. Yet none more so than Gloria."

Through the tears in her eyes, Aurora watched as Matthew drew something out of his pocket and held it up for her inspection. When she saw it, she almost dropped the painting. She quickly caught the precious cloth and rolled it back up. Then she reached out and took what Matthew was holding. With a shaking hand, Aurora pulled out the half of the pendant she carried wherever she went. She placed the two pieces together, and burst into tears when she saw that they fit together perfectly.

At long last she knew. Sarah had gotten away to safety. Her children lived on.


Night air was known for being fairly quiet, especially deep in the mountains. Yet this night, things were too quiet. The silence was so absolute it swallowed anything that happened upon the area, chilling it to the core. Birds had long since flown off, chirping in a frightened and angry way. Deer, foxes, even squirrels had fled, leaving it for good. In their primitive minds they knew that that place was no longer safe. That place was a very bad place to be.

White on black eyes blinked slowly, almost in wonder. Odd how one could come to appreciate things like silence after being without it for many years. The world became a better place when you stepped back and saw things clearly.

Though it often took a great deal of pain for your sight to clear.

Na'Tath closed her eyes, a ghost of a sigh escaping her. She could not breathe properly and might not be able to for quite some time. A bubble of mirth swelled in her battered chest yet she did not allow it out. Laughter was something foreign to the Reaper. Something she had not had a need for in...in...

How many years had it been since she last laughed?

Too many.

She opened her eyes again, lowering them to look at the tree line just ahead of her. It was just a few feet yet nothing had ever looked farther away. She doubted if she could even sit up without some support.

The Reaper had been severely punished for her actions. Her orders had been to observe the Guild and do nothing unless it was obvious that their ascent would be greatly hindered. The Guild had cut through the other Reapers sent to their own death, they would not need assistance.

Yet Kaha'Dak had stayed to finish off those few left. Kaha'Dak had known Na'Tath was there. Kaha'Dak had spurred Na'Tath into speaking. Kaha'Dak had attacked Ke'Dab as it pulled Na'Tath through the shadows and out of the room.

Kaha'Dak had said Na'Tath was not a Reaper.

Na'Tath felt tears form behind her eyes. Tears were an old friend of hers, they visited her very often.

If she was not a Reaper then what was she? How could she still hear the Voice incessantly whispering in the back of her head? How could she reach out and grasp into a living creature's Spark? How could she use the mere shadows around her as a means of transport? How, if she was not a Reaper?

I can smell your blood and it's not the same as Reaper blood. So, what are you?

Na'Tath did not know. But someone did. Someone knew what she was. All she had to do was stand and follow the trail leading through the trees, the trail she was literally sitting on. It was over a month old yet so clear to her eyes. If only she was not so injured.

With another sigh, Na'Tath gently rested her head back against the rock she was propped up against. Due to the Voice, she knew that the Shadow Elf was gravely injured, as was another in their party. The Shadow Elf had slaughtered hundreds of Reapers, wounding the Reaper Elite as they had been too slow in retreating. They needed more time to heal before they could be sent out again.

And Na'Tath was closer than they. Her wounds were further along in healing than theirs.

As if through a hazy fog, Na'Tath saw the face of an elderly woman gazing up at her from a blood soaked floor.

You must stop him. Please help them. You must find Kaha'Dak. You must find her.

She would find Kaha'Dak. In her own time, but Na'Tath would find her.


Rali had been in a state of semi-unconsciousness when he heard it. A muffled groan coming from the door of Caled's room. He was jerked fully awake as a second groan, louder and this one sounding pained. He glanced at Clad, who nodded to say he had heard it as well, then ran to fetch Aurora. As he rushed down the stairs he prayed that Legolas was not nearby. When he got news of Caled's awakening, the Elf prince would certainly want to see her, whether or not Aurora thought it wise.

Pushing through the crowded bar, Rali made his way over to where Auron sat discussing something with Dias and Denya, Aurora dozing with her head on the table. Auron looked up; saw his expression, and his eyes widened a bit.

"Aurora," Rali said, shaking her awake.

Aurora grunted, blinking blearily at him. When she too saw his face, she stood up. "She's awake?"

"Not sure," he said. "But Clad and I both heard groaning from the room."

Aurora was gone in a flash and, too late, Rali saw Legolas seated at the bar, twisted around in his chair and looking in their direction fixedly. From the intense expression on his face, Rali knew he had heard.

"Legolas, don't-" Denya's words fell on deaf ears as Legolas seemed to vanish. They caught sight of his back just before the bar door swung shut.

Automatically, the rest rose and made their way across the room. "What's he thinking?" Dias said, shaking his head. "We don't know about the effects Caled is having. For all we know just us being near her could endanger her life! Those wounds could become infection even more!"

"It's not her wounds I'm worried about," Denya breathed, glancing up the stairs.

"What then?" Rali asked.

"Look, maybe Caled knows that he saw into her head," Denya replied, a note of exasperation in her voice. "And if not, Legolas is going to ask her about it. Either way, she will know. What is that going to do to her?"

Rali's response died in his mouth. Just above them, they heard a chocking scream that froze their blood.

Then the fire surrounded them.