Daine tried her best to keep her chin high that afternoon as she left. She and Briar were mounted on their horses as their friends swarmed around them. In her pack she had her maps, money, pass, food, and clothing and bedding in her saddlebags. She had placed the locket around her neck, next to the Badger's claw.
Jonathan smiled and patted her knee. "It's only a mission, Daine. You look like you're going off to war."
She laughed, relieved that he wasn't worried. "Well then it's a good thing you're not going. I've heard you can do a fair share of fighting, but when it comes to getting something done right, you're hopeless!"
Jon fixed her with a glare of mock-sternness, a wry smile on his face. "You and Numair abuse me," he muttered.
Gary approached her. "So you know what to do Daine?" he asked. "Just…find out it's magic, give us a description, and it's morals and standards. We need to know if it's dangerous."
Briar stood in his stirrups, stretching. "Will do, Sir Gareth. Don't worry, I doubt we'll have trouble."
"That's another thing," Alanna proclaimed. "You should be able to control…whatever it is…considering that together, you're magic should cover just about everything we can think of. Goodbye, Daine. I have to go." She nodded and hurried off to the stables.
Raoul saluted his farewell and also left, in the direction of the tilting yards. Jon and Onua bid them goodbye and left, leaving just Numair.
"Funny," Briar said, "that everyone always makes it so just Daine and Numair alone."
Numair ignored the boy and grasped Daine's hand. "I miss you already."
Daine smiled down at him. "I'll likely be home in less than a month, Numair. It's just up by Scanra."
The tall mage shrugged and squeezed her hand, casting Briar a wary look. "Take care of her, Briar Moss."
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The sun was sinking behind the trees when the two decided to make camp. They had traveled almost twenty miles in little time, and were getting tired. Wordlessly Briar swung down from his horse. He hadn't spoken all day.
Daine accidentally bumped into him as she was setting up her tent. She got knocked down.
"Sorry, Daine," Briar said hastily, and reached down to help her up. Gratefully she took his hands and he pulled. On her feet, Daine smiled, not letting go of his hands.
"Avoiding me, Briar Moss?" she accused.
"No. I'm just quiet." He thought about pulling his hands away, and refrained.
With a sigh she let them go.
"Wait," the Wildmage ordered, and picked up his hands again, examining the to "X" tattoos on the web of skin between his thumb and index fingers, on both hands. "What're these?"
Briar withdrew his hands ruefully and closed his eyes.
"The mark of theft," he explained quietly. "One for each time I got caught. It's how I ended up learning mage craft at Winding Circle Temple. You see, I used to be called Roach…."
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(A/n: sorry it took so long! I've been doing pitching stuff all week. How about…reviews!?!?!?!)