OMG I want to thank all my reviewers, but especially youdontneedtoknow for explaining to me that saving on the Web page thing so I can have italics and everything! Thank you sooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo much! Oh, and for those wondering what the hell the first chapter had to do with anything, it didn't really, I just felt like writing it!

Chapter Four: The Quest Begins…With A Few Exchanged Insults and Glares

Furious, Kel paced, shooting violent glares at the blond lounging on the ground.

"Why are you being so difficult," she finally burst out.

In mild surprise, he looked up. "Pardon?" he asked sweetly.

"Why are being like this? Don't you realize that I will disappear if you don't do anything?"

"Why, yes, actually. I do."

"Then why are we just sitting around?"

"Because I'm tired."

"You're dead!!!!!! You can't GET tired!"

Joren remained silent. Those the Black God picked to be Uusoae's minions had one warning to tell them that she was going to be their new mistress, and that was that they would gradually become more human by the day. His warning had started about a week ago; it wouldn't be long before the Black God started to search for him. He took some comfort in the fact that the God still had to look for him, and not just appear wherever he was. That would definitely give him some time to get to the Transition Point.

In the meantime, however, Joren had to pretend that nothing was wrong. He had to make sure that Kel at least thought he was in charge. But, in truth, he depended on her just as much as she depended on him.

"Well then, I want to sit down."

Kel slipped on her Lump Face and sat down across from him. With unreadable green-hazel eyes she stared at him. A heavy breeze ruffled her wisps of mouse brown hair. He could not believe how much she had grown since he last saw her a couple years ago…when he was alive. Though she would never be beautiful, she was pretty, as she grew more feminine than boyish over the years.

That blank stare was beginning to unnerve him. Uncomfortably, Joren shifted his position. He did it again. She continued to stare at him. Again. Stare.

Again.

Stare.

Again.

Stare.

"Okay," he finally shouted, jumping to his feet and marching off. "Let's go."

He did not miss the smug, triumphant smile that flitted across her face and felt very cross that a Lump had bested him. It was a horrible feeling, and so he decided to do everything he could to make up for it.

"Hey, Mindelan?"

"What."

"Did you know I slept with your sister?"

There was a pause, and Joren was glad that Mindelan could not see his face, but he wished dearly he could see hers. Sleeping with her sister had never even occurred to him, of course, he had better things to do than sleep with relatives of this slut, but he wanted to see what she would do. Then, to his shock, she said,

"I know."

"You…you what?" he blustered.

"I said, I know."

"But…But I…"

"Yes?"

"I never slept with—"

"I know."

That is when Joren realized that, once again, he lost. Puzzled, he halted and turned to look back at her. She was brilliant, but she had never been one to make a fool of someone at their own game. It had been but one, two maybe three years since he had died, and left her, but during that brief period of time something had changed her. Maybe it was the dark gloom called life, or the black tainting color that marked that gloom called death. An unexpected flash of pity burned somewhere inside him. Swiftly he pushed it away. He had spent six or so years hating the Lump; now was no time to start feeling differently. But still…it was a little disturbing to see the calm, innocent girl possessing a sorrowful understanding of life and what Fate does to its sweet opportunities.

"You little—"

"Joren, shut up."

"Why?"

"Because you need to."

"Why?"

"JOREN!"

~*~

"I don't get it."

"Honestly, Kennan, doesn't anything get through that thick skull of yours?"

"I have a skull? And all this time I though it was a rock."

Alanna sighed and dismissed the redhead as a blockhead. "How's it going, Numair?" she called.

Numair looked up. Though his eyes were tired and baggy, they were filled with a new excited light that only appeared when he was dealing with a new magic or undiscovered experiment.

"It's coming along wonderfully," he said eagerly, looking back down at the large, incredibly thick, dusty book in his lap. "All the information needed is right here. I'm astonished to have found it in the open."

"It wasn't in the open," Daine said.

"Well, in the open to a black-robed mage," Numair admitted hastily. "Any black robe could have found it with their magic."

"Spare me the arrogance," Alanna said, rolling her violet eyes.

"You mean to tell me," Neal said slowly, "that in exchange for taking Kel to that Pointy thingy so she can return here, Joren is to come back with her?"

"My former squire figures out things so quickly it scares me," she said dryly. "That's correct."

"So Kel's entire future rests with Joren?" Cleon gasped.

"She's doomed," Owen said gloomily.

However, Alanna smiled mysteriously. "Ah, but Joren depends on Kel as much as she depends on him."

"What do you mean?" Daine said curiously.

"It seems the Black God chooses very bad people to become minions to Chaos," the redheaded woman said. "Joren is definitely one of them, and he knows it, because when he was talking about someone who had been given to…what's her name, Daine? Usona? Usoana?

"Uusoae," the brunette said quietly.

"Right, Uusoae. Anyway, when he was talking about that, he had this weird gleam in his eye and his tone was all…I don't know, different. If he can come back again, alive, he won't be picked. Simple as that."

"The thought of that endless torture almost makes me wish Kel would disappear," Neal said dreamily. Owen tackled him off the bench they were sitting on.

"Boys," Buriram Tourakom said sadly, shaking her head. Queen Thayet nodded.

"Do you think you'll be able to do it all within a week," King Jonathan asked anxiously.

"Probably," Numair said absently, his nose already buried back in the book.

"I admit," Wyldon of Cavall said suddenly, "I didn't like the chit much. I do now, though truth be told she can be so mulish I just want to hit her with a coconut. But even when I didn't like her, I knew she would be an extraordinary knight. It would be most pitiable if she disappeared without really showing the realm what she can do."

"Wow," Seaver murmured. "The Stump actually said something nice about Kel."

"I heard that, Tasride."

~*~

Shivering, Kel hugged herself and rubbed her arms to stimulate warmth. It was cold in the Black God's Realms. She was envious of Joren who, dead, could not feel anything. But then…why was he shivering?

"Joren?"

"What is it, Lump?"

"Why are you shivering?"

"I'm not," Joren said shortly.

"Yes, you are," Kel insisted. "You're cold."

"I'm not cold, because I'm dead. The dead feel nothing."

"If you're dead, and the dead feel nothing, then why are you cold?"

"I'm not cold."

"You are too."

"I am not."

"Are too."

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Am not. When will you give up?"

"Are too. Never."

"Am not. How long can you d this?"

"Are too. As long as needed. Remember, I'm friends with Neal."     

"Am not. Good point."

"Are too."

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Oh, shut up."

Kel smiled. Joren noticed it and stuck his tongue out at her. She grinned wider.

After a while, her legs began to tire.

"Joren?" she asked timidly.

"What," he snapped.

"Can we rest?"

Joren sighed and glanced behind him. She was a little pale…and, truthfully, he too wanted to take a break…

"Okay, fine. Sit down."

Kel gracefully folded her legs and sat down. Five minutes later, she was curled up, fast asleep. Joren wished he knew what time it was. He shrugged. He would know when Alanna or Numair appeared in five days to check on them. For now…

Beside the lady knight, Joren lay down, his eyelids drooped from something he hadn't needed for a long time, and he fell asleep.

Some distance away, the Black God watched him.