Pale crimson clouds billowed around the rag that Anna swirled impatiently in the bucket. Giving it a squeeze she again applied the rough cloth to the kitchen floor. Despite numerous water changes she couldn't manage to get all the blood off the stones, her efforts just smearing it around and staining the porous mortar between the stone edges. In frustration she rubbed harder.

Her eyes on the stain she saw boots slowly step into the kitchen. She didn't need to look up to know it was Finn. He stood in silence, watching her scrubbing intensely. Finally he spoke.

"It looks pretty clean."

"There's blood in the cracks, I can't get it out. If it dries it'll be permanent," Anna replied shortly, not stopping her work.

He stood quiet again. The scrubbing of the rag blended with the sound of steady rain on the kitchen roof, muffled by the bolted door and fastened windows that would normally be open to the summer air.

Finn knelt and gently took her hands. They shook slightly from nerves and activity but she didn't resist as he pulled the rag lightly from their grasp and placed it in the bucket. She leaned back, feeling the bruising on her knees from the hard stone. She looked at the wet floor under her skirts and said nothing.

"Hey, it's going to be alright," he said. "The guards said we could leave. We shouldn't stay longer than we have to."

"This is my home," she replied, her voice shaking like her hands. "They came here. They were watching me! What if I can't come back?"

"You'll come back," he said. "We'll get them."

"How can we?" She looked up at him. "Honestly, tell me. They've done all this—all this killing, the iron crisis—we don't know where they are…we don't even know why they're doing this."

He smiled a little.

"I know."

"It's impossible, Finn. It's stupid. What did we really expect to do? We can't fight an army of bandits. The Flaming Fist can't even find them, and we're just supposed to what—wander around aimlessly in the wilderness, hoping against hope that we stumble across them so they can put arrows in our backs?"

She ran her wet hands through her hair, oblivious for the moment to the blood that mingled with the soapy water. Finn stayed crouched beside her. Anna felt like screaming but wrapped her hands in her skirts and bit her lip instead. She pulled the fabric tighter and tighter, almost hoping it would rip. Finn said nothing, regarding her silently.

Finally Anna drew a shallow breath.

"This is how you feel, isn't it?"

She turned to him and saw his eyes.

"It is," he said quietly.

"Finn, I'm sorry," she choked. "I didn't mean to—"

He put an arm around her and she gladly pressed her face onto his shoulder.

"This is all I can do," he said after a moment. "There isn't anything else. I don't know how we can win either, or what winning even means here. But there's nowhere for me to go. I'm sorry you got caught up in this. Maybe I should just take Imoen and run somewhere, but I don't know where to go. We can't go home. I have to try, Anna—because there's nothing else I can do."

Anna looked down at the pink-stained floor.

"Come on," he said quietly. "This is just stone. It doesn't matter."

He helped her to her feet and she looked around the kitchen, still spying a drop of spattered blood here and there. Anna shivered from somewhere deep within her stomach but tried to give him a small smile before hurrying off to pack.

...

An hour later she looked back at the cottage, partially hidden by the grove of trees. Its windows were shuttered and it looked strange and asleep. Glancing down the hill she saw the mist-covered fields of the farm where Maya's daughter and family lived, where the good woman now lay recovering from the shock of the attack. Anna had no time to say goodbye. She pulled her hood further down over her eyes against the rain and hurried along after the group.

They kept to the woodlands and fields, avoiding the roads and before long heavy wilderness surrounded them once again. The rain persisted and they spoke little, their faces tight. Even Coran seemed reserved, walking silently as only an elf can through the trees. Anna wondered if the reality of their quest was in his mind when he thought of grand adventures. But if he had second thoughts about accompanying them he kept it to himself.

The group headed towards the fortress inn of the Friendly Arm, nearly a tenday's march north of Beregost. Based on their only intelligence another bandit camp lay somewhere in that region. It was vague information and they had no way of knowing if the bandits even remained in the area, but they hoped some rumour at the Friendly Arm might provide them with another clue. Other than waiting for the mercenaries to attack again there was little else they could do.

That night they made a soggy camp. The dense trees overhead dripped heavy drops that their leaves collected like funnels, striking almost like shot when they hit Anna's head. She paid little notice though as she took refuge under the oily-smelling tent. With such a large group they needed two shelters and it was a comfort at least to change clothes without first checking to see if any of the male party members were looking. It was a small problem next to all the others but another one she hadn't really considered before setting out on the road.

Imoen glanced up from her blanket when Anna entered then dropped her eyes back to the book she studied. Despite the forced flight Anna wanted to keep her promise to teach the girl magic—if nothing else it might keep both their minds off their troubles for awhile.

Safana likewise reclined, examining what looked like a small leather journal. The thief hadn't been pleased with their sudden departure and from snippets of overheard conversation Anna gathered she'd been trying in vain to convince Finn to head south, for reasons unknown to the mage. His response she knew from their northward trek.

Branwen bent her head over a pair of hose with the heel of one foot stretched over a wooden darning egg. With capable hands she swiftly made a new weave in the woollen fabric. Her dexterity with a needle was remarkable, Anna noticed, and unlikely as it seemed she imagined the possibility that the warrior maiden was once a seamstress of some sort. The occupation certainly was more in line with what she knew of Northlander culture than a priestess of Tempus.

...

Anna barely had time to pull her spellbook from her pack when Jaheira crawled through the narrow canvas flap.

"You have drawn first watch," she said to the mage. Noticing Anna's open book she frowned. "Have you not memorised your spells?"

"I'm fine," Anna said, drawing a little breath. She'd just taken shelter from the rain and didn't fancy another two hours sitting in the deluge.

"Good. We should extinguish the lantern as soon as you have readied yourselves for the night," she said to the others.

Safana groaned. "If there were a sun tonight it surely would have just set. Isn't it bad enough that we must go without fire on this damp eve, now we must keep the bedtime of children? I am not finished reading."

"I am sorry if it inconveniences you," Jaheira said coolly. "Perhaps we should keep a fire to attract the bandits which are no doubt on our trail even as we speak. As for the early night, I'll wager you'll appreciate it more when you see to your watch. Yours is the last, and we march at dawn."

Safana didn't reply but slapped her book shut and tugged off her jerkin. Anna donned her cloak once more and went out into the rainy evening. Thankfully she took the time to bathe it in a solution of lead salts after the group returned to Beregost; it now kept off the rain but the brown wool was still smothery in the warm, damp night.

The grey light was fading fast from the trees and she saw little of form outside the warm lantern-glow that issued from within the tents. The other tent's flap parted and Khalid crawled out. They'd taken to keeping two sentinels now their numbers permitted it.

"Ready?" Khalid said shortly, standing up and pulling his grey hood over his head.

She nodded in response and they wandered up out of the hollow, Anna following slightly behind the half-elf whose eyes penetrated the grey mist much better than hers. Khalid wasn't the boldest of warriors but tonight Anna thought he walked almost aggressively through the trees as if he expected an opponent to materialise at any moment.

They circled the camp and Khalid directed Anna to take a spot near a boulder. She curled up against the stone and let out a little sigh as she watched him fade into the mist, making his way to his own lookout.

Anna sat dutifully in the dripping darkness, her ears listening to hear footfalls over the sound of the pattering rain. She generally disliked keeping watch, not so much because of the loss of sleep but rather the lonely feeling that came from being separated from the others by even a short distance in the dark wilderness. She could never shake the feeling that, somehow, she would return one night and find them gone. It was a childish fear and she kept it to herself but with the shock of the past day and the utter blackness of the rainy night she found it building within. She'd never been afraid of the dark. Why now? She wished she could find Khalid but it seemed a hopeless task with no light to guide her and she stayed where she was.

...

Eventually the half-elf returned, Anna only knowing him by his quiet whistle in the dark.

"See anything?" he said low, sitting down beside her.

Anna wondered if he was being ironic but responded in the negative.

"A f-few minutes more," Khalid said.

Anna nodded into the darkness and they sat in silence. She knew she shouldn't talk on watch but the night wore on her nerves and she wanted to hear a voice. Building up some courage she asked a question that had been on her mind for some time.

"Khalid," she began. "Tell me, how did Jaheira and you end up with Finn? I know it's because of your…connections, but…"

She trailed off, suddenly feeling foolish at the question. Khalid started a little and responded in a tone she expected.

"Why d-do you ask now? Does it matter?"

Too late as well Jaheira's face as she looked at Finn in the tavern came back to Anna and she felt a queer heat rise to her face. Khalid noticed that, too, and he was probably the last person the half-elf wanted to speak of. Flustered though Anna continued.

"I'm sorry, I just wondered. It's not important."

Khalid let out a sharp little sigh.

"His foster f-father was a friend. Jaheira and I—we j-joined the Harpers at about the same t-time. We m-met Gorion then. He…introduced us, in fact. Nearly twenty years ago," he laughed a little, as if surprised by the passing of time. "Gorion was a mentor, he taught us b-both a great deal. We were on the c-coast here investigating the crisis when we were told to w-wait at the Friendly Arm for Gorion and his ward. We did. But only F-finn and Imoen arrived. We were told to protect him, n-no matter what. To watch over him. So we did."

Khalid drew another breath. Anna didn't ask who gave the couple their directives, but she wondered. Even if Finn was Gorion's foster child their orders seemed strange. 'Protect Finn'—from what? The bandits? She'd already worn out her thoughts on numerous occasions pondering the bounty on his head. He wasn't a Harper or anyone to warrant such a thing. Now though it came creeping back to her mind. With a bit of humour she thought perhaps he was the son and heir of some king or other, living a secret life in Candlekeep, waiting to claim his throne. The Lady of Brackenfell Hall clearly made more of an impression on her than she'd like to admit, she thought ruefully as Khalid rose and she followed him carefully back to the tents.

...

Thankfully the rain departed the same way it arrived and Anna woke to a fresh morning and a broken sky. They ate quickly and wasted little time in setting back off towards the north. The rolling hills grew higher and steeper, their sides thick with trees and for awhile they followed a shallow, rocky stream that splashed swiftly through a narrow valley. The road and the only trace of civilisation was now miles to the west, curving sharply to avoid the same hills the party rambled through.

Anna's face stayed grim and she idly regarded the water that was tinted light amber from the minerals in the hills as it flowed merrily by, now and then a silvery fish slipping through the rocks. She looked up when she saw a cloak flutter next to her.

"Lady Anna," Coran said, a smile decorating his face.

"Hm?" she replied indifferently.

"I dreamt of you last night."

"Indeed."

"I rolled out of bed twice!"

Anna face screwed up but seeing his dancing eyes she couldn't help but laugh. He gave her a mischievous grin and moved on, his work apparently done.

...

Noon came and they took a rest amongst the trees. While they ate Imoen approached Anna.

"I think I've got it. Do you want to see me cast it? I'm ready!"

"Yes, I was thinking that an explosion is just the thing we need right now," Xan said dryly.

"What explosion? It's just a defensive spell. And I have casted spells before, you know."

Anna opened her mouth but Xan cut in again.

"Even so, magic in the hands of a novice can have unpredictable effects. Surely it would be better to wait until our situation is slightly less precarious before continuing?"

He directed the question at Anna and she sat looking between the serious elf and Imoen's eager face. She looked over at Finn who gave her a little shrug.

Anna let out a puff. "I suppose it will be alright. Come, let's go over here."

She led the girl a short distance from the camp, ignoring Xan's eyes and hoping with all her might that Imoen didn't prove her wrong.

"Okay, then," Anna said with an encouraging smile. "Let's see what you've got."

Imoen stood straight and collected a breath. She raised a hand in the air, then promptly started laughing.

"I've got it," Imoen said in response to Anna's look.

She took another moment to collect herself, then again raised a hand. She closed her eyes and began chanting under her breath, moving her hand around in a circular motion. Anna watched with baited breath as the girl's palm began to glow blue. The light stayed in the air and she motioned outwards into a greater circle until a round shield of energy had formed in front of her. Cautiously she opened an eye and let out a little squeal of delight.

"It's there! It works! I did it!"

She clapped her hands and did a little dance, the shield hanging in the air, moving when she moved.

"Well done!" Anna exclaimed, smiling. "Here, let's test it."

She picked up a small stone and tossed it at the shield. It bounced lightly off the barrier, the gentle force not enough to penetrate the spell.

"Great! Now try a magic missile," Imoen said, eager.

Anna laughed. "I think we'll leave that for another day."

"Oh, but why? This spell stops them, and I really want to try—"

She gestured and the spell fizzled away with a crackle of energy.

"Oops."

"That happens. You need to keep your mind clear and stay focused on the Weave," Anna said.

"Right. But how do you do that when you're fighting? There's a million things going through my head at a normal time, never mind a battle."

"It's just something you'll need to learn. You need to keep part of yourself devoted to the spell. Don't worry, it gets easier with practice."

...

"As do all things. It was a fair try, Imoen."

Anna turned to see Kivan walking up, appearing as usual from nowhere.

"You saw it?" Imoen said, catching a breath. "Pretty cool, huh?"

"I know little of the spell's temperature," he replied.

Anna forced down a laugh. "Have you seen anything?"

"No signs of pursuit. If the bandits follow us then they keep their distance."

"That's good. We'll try to keep the noise down anyway," she said, having a feeling the elf appeared for a reason.

"Yeah, sorry," Imoen said. "But I cast a spell! That's so great! Thanks so much, Anna."

"Of course," the mage said.

"I want to learn everything again. I missed all those books, scrubbing at the inn. Hey Kivan, maybe you can teach me some elvish?" she said with a laugh. "They say you need an elf to get the accents right."

"Perhaps, mellonamin," he responded with a little smile at the girl's enthusiasm.

"Of course, I did study Quenya before, but I can't remember much," Imoen continued as the three headed back to the others. "I think I can remember some poems. And the alphabet. Maybe I could copy it out later, and you could have a look?"

"I think you should ask Xan if you wish to learn the letters of my people," he answered.

"Oh…well, I suppose it would take too much of your time, and you're always busy, tinkering with your arrows and whatnot," Imoen said, looking a bit dejected.

"It is not that, little one. You probably know more of the letters than I."

"You don't know Quenya?" she asked, confused.

Kivan smiled in his rather grim way. "Elvish I do know, along with your tongue and the tongues of many others. But of the markings I know little."

"You can't read?" Imoen exclaimed.

"No, mellonamin."

"But—all elves can read!"

"And you have met all elves to come to that conclusion?"

"Well—"

Kivan sighed. "My people—my tribe that is, the Calen'Quessir, have little use for the scratchings on paper that others are fond of."

"But—how do you remember stuff?" Imoen asked, still flummoxed.

"How? With our words. Our words are living things. They live on the breath of the speaker and in the ear of the listener. They flow in our memory like a river. Parents, elders—they tell their tales and they live and change and grow. We prefer this to the dead, fixed words that are etched onto parchment, to be one thing forevermore."

"But how do you cast spells, if you don't read?"

"We have few arcane spellcasters, that is true. We rely mostly on priests. The few wizards we have often come from outside the tribe, those who have come to live with us in our forest."

As he spoke his eyes took on a strange look, almost as if he saw someone or something appear before him. Anna wondered but caught up Imoen's sleeve and tried to rein in the girl's stream of questions about an elvish culture she knew little about. Something about Kivan's face told her he'd had his fill of questions that day.

...

The party spent several days travelling through the hills. Except for a few minor encounters with the wild beasts of the forest they met with no battles. Anna hardly dared to hope they'd managed to escape Beregost without alerting the bandits but couldn't explain their absence any other way. They certainly wouldn't wish for a more remote location to ambush the party, if that was their plan.

On the fifth day they began again to see signs of human occupation, dingy and drear that it was. They passed through the settlement of Peldvale, a small area of what was often referred to as 'dirt farmers' by idle tongues along the coast. The soil was poor and its proximity to the wild hills made the valley a less than desirable location, but that didn't stop the determined folk who sweated out a living there. In reality though most that farmed that place likely couldn't afford to live anywhere else.

They stayed out of sight but decided to chance purchasing some fresh food at a wayside farm. Anna and Branwen were elected to do the bartering as the party members least likely to draw attention in that place. Stripping off armour and weaponry and counting on their spells for aid if any trouble should arise the two women approached the ramshackle house. A tight-faced farmer's wife appeared at Anna's knock.

"Who be ye?" she said suspiciously.

"Just travellers, missus, here to barter for milk and eggs," Anna said.

"We don't need no damn gypsies round 'ere. Be off, afore I set the dog on ye."

"We've fair coin, missus. It's for our little ones, they've not 'a proper bite in their stomachs for days," Anna pleaded, hoping to appeal to some maternal instinct in the woman. The reaction wasn't what she expected.

"Ye've wee ones? Take 'em and be off," she said hoarsely, eyes growing wide.

"Missus?"

"Be off I say! Don't come round again."

The woman retreated inside, slamming the rough door shut in their faces. Anna and Branwen looked at each other but turned away in silence. As they walked towards the forest Branwen paused and looked back at the farm.

"What is it?" Anna asked.

"Ye live amongst farmers. See with your own eyes."

Anna looked. She saw a man in a field, back bent in weeding. The woman she saw exit the house, dragging behind her a heavy tub of wash that she proceeded to hang on a line. The mage examined the scene, realising something seemed out of place but the answer eluding her eyes. Finally it came.

"Where are the children?"

"Aye, where? None I heard in the house, none in the field. And that woman seemed near to fainting with fear when ye mentioned little ones."

"What does that mean?" Anna asked.

"Tempus knows. But it seems an ill omen, does it not? Come, let us return to our comrades."

Anna glanced once more at the empty farm before turning and following the cleric into the woods.