Disclaimer: No, I'm not Tamora Pierce... I'm Tolkien, risen from the grave! Bow down to me! Hah, ha, very funny. Come off it, Tammy doesn't even read fanfics, why do I have to write these stupid things?

A/n: If I don't get some more reviewers I may be forced to stop. I don't want to do that, so please, please R & R! Also I'm inclined towards short chapters very often, but if you guys prefer long chapters less frequently, that's cool. It's up to you.

Alanna and Cythera were sitting huddled together on one side of the lavish coach, trying to withstand the fierce cold that penetrated the fancy but impractical hangings. The coach shuddered over the uneven track on the way to Corus, one of the few that had not been restored.

"I swear," Muttered the lioness grimly, "Even Corus sounds good compared to this. How much further is it, anyway?" Alanna had never really paid much attention in Geography classes, mainly because the priestess who taught it was so infinitely boring that she almost rivalled the Mother Superior. Cythera shrugged in reply, the droplets of rain that were finding a way into the coach and onto her face making her grumpy.

"How can I tell how far it is when I don't even know where we are?" She enquired miserably, shoulders sagging. Patting her friend's shoulder awkwardly, Alanna slipped her wet slippers off and sprung nimbly onto the opposite seat. Opening the hatch and sticking her head out, she yelled n a voice that would have made any of her teachers wince:

"Oi!"

The coachman didn't hear her over the rage of the storm. Below her, Alanna could just make out Cythera's shocked voice.

"Aly! You'll catch pleuro-pneumonia!"

Alanna shrugged. She didn't even know what pleuro-pneumonia was, and quite frankly she wasn't that bothered. She vaguely remembered something from her Gift Healing sessions, but since those lessons always made her use her Gift she had hated them, though she excelled at the practical, and had never paid much attention. In fact, Alanna had never paid much attention to any of her lessons. She tried again, louder this time.

"OI!"

This time the coachman heard her, and, reining in the horses, turned to face her, a look of wary respect on his craggy face. In the several hours they had been travelling, he had already learnt there was something odd about his two passengers, and quite frankly he wanted to stay away from them as much as possible.

"My lady?"

"How long till we get to Corus?" Alanna requested. It would have been a very pretty request, too, but she was forced to scream it over the storm. In the carriage below, Cythera rolled her eyes.

"Why, milady, we're coming up to it. Shouldn't be more'n half an hour, 'less the roads get flooded."