OK, peoples, down to business. I know I haven't been updating in a while (random fan: yeah, we all know. I fell asleep while waiting for you to update. Zzzzzzzzzzz) but I have HONESTLY been really busy. Anyways, schools out for the year now, so expect the chapters to be coming up sooner!!! And one more thing. Lotzanlots of people have been complaining about the SHORT chappies, and I just want to say that I am making an effort to write longer chapters, and c6 is…erm…slightly longer. Tootles!!!

Disclaimer: Don't own, never will, I'm not gonna write this every time, so deal.

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Patar rode home, furious that his spell had failed—and that Nehima had taken advantage of that. He passed the Narrow Way leading to Belisaere, not even noticing that either his daughter or someone who looked a lot like her had just turned out of it and onto the same road that he was on. He continued riding for five minutes, until he realised that someone was following him. He twisted around in the saddle, and saw Nehima riding behind him, deep in thought.

Patar looked directly at his daughter. "I didn't want to believe it, but apparently it's true. You did get out somehow, and you have been spreading lies about me!" he spat.

Nehima's face was blank, devoid of all emotion. Her father knew that look; the girl had inherited it from her mother. A wily woman she was, but she bore her Charter mark with pride.

Patar jerked back to the present when he realized that Nehima—his own daughter!—was weaving a spell to use against him. Then her hand went to the bandolier that she wore around her chest, opening the second-largest case. Patar didn't know anything about the bells of a necromancer, but he watched Nehima with apprehension nevertheless.

Saraneth boomed out, and Patar felt himself succumb to the iron will of his daughter.

"You will travel throughout the kingdom, seeking information about a certain Wallmaker by the name of Arrenil," Nehima commanded. Then she replaced Saraneth and drew Kibeth, the Walker. She rang the bell backwards, forwards and figure eight as she had been taught by Eruquetta, a Clayr who had given up her birthright to become a master of the necromantic arts.

Patar jerked backwards, then started on the long journey that Nehima—now only his daughter by blood—had compelled him to take. Behind him, Nehima allowed herself a small smile at her success, and put Kibeth back in its pouch, her practiced hands keeping the bell still.

(breakline)

A/N: Phew!!! :::wipes forehead::: that took me ages to type up, believe it or not, seeing that I only did like a paragraph a day… :::laughs randomly::: So… did ya'll like my evil!Nehima? R&R plz!!!

MORNIINGSIDE FOR LIFE!!!