Shining and Nearl both stepped out from the mayor's house, their travel bags on their shoulders already, ready to depart immediately. Unfortunately for their plans, all of Clastorn had seemed to get wind of their plans to leave, and gathered to give their heroes a proper sendoff.
"Are you sure you won't stay longer?" Esitha asked. The mayor was busy trying to quell the crowd and open a path through that they could use without having to shoulder their way through. "You'd be welcome to stay as long as you like," the guard captain continued, one palm open. "It's not as if people here would be eager to see the backs of you, even if you weren't the best healers anyone in the town has even heard of."
"Thank you for the offer, but…" Shining paused, trying to find the right way to say it. "There are two reasons for us to leave. First of all, yours isn't the only town that could use our help, you must understand. Our hope is to help everyone we can, and we can't do that by settling anywhere, even such a nice town as this. But secondly, both of us may draw trouble. Margaret made her share of enemies back in Kazmierz, and any of them may want to settle scores. And I… you must know."
"I wasn't fooled," Esitha agreed, pitching her voice low to avoid having it travel to the crowd. "I don't think many others here figured it out, but I recognized your robes after an hour or so. You think they may be coming after you, then?" Shining nodded.
"They will be, for certain. If you can, simply don't mention that we were here. If not… tell them everything, as accurately as you can. I don't want our stop here to cause you any more trouble than it has to. Don't let anyone in the town try to be a hero, Esitha. I don't want anyone to die on my account."
The mercenary woman nodded, stepping back. "I'll do my best." She gestured. "It looks like everyone wants you to at least say goodbye properly. I assume you have enough time to do so?" She grinned, the expression stretching a scar on her cheek, as she gestured them towards the town square for one last time.
They reached the square, both of them standing together in front of the crowd. Shining stepped forward, her voice quiet, but the townsfolk hushed instantly, leaning forward to hear her words. "Thank you all for your generous hospitality, your warm welcome, and your kindness to the two of us as we travelled through. I have traveled a great deal in Kazdel, and most of the land is poisoned by civil war, betrayal, and fear. It is good to know that at least one small town still remembers kindness, peace, and trust." She bowed to them, then straightened. "We are leaving now, but hopefully one day we will be able to return, at the very least for a visit. We wish you all safety and well-being until we meet again!"
She had expected the mayor to have a prepared speech ready, but instead he smiled and ushered forward Sadie and a few of her friends. The girls were carrying a pair of small bundles. "We wanted to give you these gifts to remember us by," Sadie explained, serious as only a child explaining something important to an adult can be. "Please, be careful and come back and visit us someday!" The girl threw herself forward, hugging Shining around the waist. She froze for an instant, surprised, then gently returned the hug, patting the girl on the back.
"I promise," she said quietly. Sadie looked up with a brilliant smile, then turned and grabbed Margaret in an equally impetuous embrace. Nearl, too, hugged her back, until the girl reluctantly released her, stepping back into an embarrassed curtsey, clearly remembering her 'proper' manners.
The two of them accepted the gifts, wrapped in soft brown cloth, and tucked them away solemnly into their packs. Then Shining turned away, waving over her shoulder to the crowd, as she and Margaret headed for the gate.
Esitha came along. "You'll be taking the north road, right? I thought I should come along as far as the edge of town and tell you what to expect. Stay on the road, for one thing. We scouted it out, and it looks like the vsighar have started building a nest near here. We haven't yet cleared it out, so be careful and keep a good watch for the first few nights."
"Are there bandits we should be worried about, before the next town?" Nearl asked, the knight's ears flicking.
"Not really. But there is something you should know about. Maybe five or ten years ago, there was a big construction project to the north, some kind of semi-mobile facility, not as big as a city, settling in. I'm not sure exactly what it is, but I'd steer clear of it if I were you. It's not a friendly place. Lots of guards, razor wire fences, that sort of thing. Probably something to do with one side of the war or another." The mercenary's face was serious and concerned. "Please stay well away from there. Don't go near it for any reason. The road loops around it, and travelers on the road haven't had any trouble, but some people say they've heard things… screams… Look, just be careful." Esitha stopped talking, flushing lightly. She clearly wasn't used to trying to give such a serious warning to people.
"Don't worry, Esitha," Margaret said. "We won't go looking for trouble. We'll be careful."
XXXX
Vesimr hurried through the hallways, his face locked in an expression of seriousness and urgency, trying his best to project an aura of needed haste and important business. The sword at his side was usual; the weight of his crossbow on his back was not, and he got a few raised eyebrows from his fellow guards, though they all appeared to assume it was related to whatever urgent task he was hurrying to.
He entered the wing of the facility where the test subjects were kept, and started up the stairwell. A few guard/subject pairs were also on the stairs, either heading to or back from testing. He passed them, meeting the eyes of a few guards he knew and exchanging nods, trying to not act as if he was doing anything unusual. "Vesimr," one greeted him at the door to her floor, and he had to pause and exchange a few words. "Off to go get your subject? They've been doing a lot of testing on her recently."
"Yeah, they have. Can't say too much about it, but the head researcher seems to think she's got a lot of potential." He shrugged, trying to keep the motion as casual as it would have been a few weeks ago. "Anyways, I ought to get moving again, shouldn't keep them waiting too long."
"Right. At least she's docile enough," the other guard said. "Could be like some of them and be aggressive and a real pain to handle, or suicidal. Be glad for your blessings," he finished, pushing the door open.
Vesimr walked swiftly down the hallway to the young woman's room. He couldn't think of her as a test subject anymore. In his mind, he had given her the name Nightingale, though he hadn't said it aloud. He pushed the door open, to find her sitting quietly on the bed, singing a quiet, wordless song, the little blue bird perched on the windowsill and singing back to her.
"Nightingale," he said quietly, for the first time. "Come with me."
"Is it time for another test?" Her voice was still quiet and relatively calm, but he could hear a note of apprehension in her voice.
"It is… but we aren't going to be doing that." He gestured to her. "We're leaving here. I can't stand by and watch this shit anymore." His voice was rough with self-loathing for how long it had taken him to make the decision. He saw confusion play across her face. "I am not going to let them hurt you and treat you like you aren't anything other than a weapon anymore. I'm taking you away from here. There are still places in the world where the Infected are treated decently. Maybe we can go there."
Her brow creased in a faint frown. "Leaving here? Leaving the facility? You really mean it?" He nodded silently, and tears sprang to her eyes, contrasting with her smile.
He reached down, lifting her off the bed and setting her on her feet. She stumbled, tried to regain her balance, and barely could. He slid one of her arms around his shoulder, helping her stand, and pushed the door open, returning to the hallway. They left via the ordinary stairwell, heading back down. This time, besides the guard at the door, nobody was in the staircase. That's lucky. It means nobody will notice immediately if I head towards one of the exits, he thought, checking the door. At the end of the hallway was a guard he didn't recognize, but this one would work… and more importantly, nobody was nearby to stop him immediately.
He pushed the door open. Fortuitously, this was also the quickest way to the treatment ward, so if he was stopped by anyone, he could simply say he was taking her there for a routine checkup. Most of the people at the facility wouldn't know that he had done so earlier that week, and it should suffice.
They almost made it to the doorway. They would have, except that two hallways from the exit, they turned a corner and ran directly into the lead researcher.
"Corporal Vesimr! What are you doing with her?!" He drew himself upright, frowning at the corporal, confusion plain on his face. "I ordered you to take her to the testing chambers, not the medical ward. How dare you disregard me?"
As the researcher was snapping at Vesimr, he was already thinking. Can't talk my way out of this one. Only one choice! His hand flashed behind him, swinging his crossbow around on its sling, and squeezed the trigger as it came around. The flat snap of the bowstring jolted the heavy crossbow in his grasp, and a wet thud followed almost immediately. The researcher coughed hard as the bolt ripped through his chest in a spray of shockingly bright red, then ricocheted off the wall and clattered down the hallway, leaving smears of blood behind it. "Shit," he exhaled, drowned out in the gurgling scream of the dying man. He pushed Nightingale roughly in front of him, hurrying her towards the door as he threw the cocking arm of his crossbow one-handed, then reached for a bolt to reload.
"Stop! Stop!" Another guard dashed around the corner, seeing the scene and ripping his sword free from its scabbard, dashing towards him. Vesimr interposed himself between the other guard and Nightingale, drawing his own sword. The blades clashed as the other guard lunged low, trying to end the fight quickly. He parried, and whipped a riposte out, taking advantage of the other man's hurry to slash the tendons in his wrist with a quick blow, then struck him in the throat as the guard's sword tumbled from his hand.
He turned to follow Nightingale's slow, stumbling progress down the hallway, reloading his crossbow. He managed to catch up with her and swept her up, carrying her as he ran hard towards the door. Something clanged on a pipe overhead, and he jerked a look over his shoulder. Two guards who had their crossbows had come up from behind him. He had to set her down and lifted his bow, sending a shot down the hallway at the one on the left. It hit him in the stomach, and the other guard had already fired. There was only one more cross hallway left, and he gestured Nightingale towards it, reaching for another bolt. The guard who had fired wasn't reloading, though, instead dragging his wounded comrade out of the way.
He heard Nightingale gasp, and rounded the corner to find her struggling in the grasp of one guard, another one already with drawn sword. He backpedaled as the guard unleashed a lightning-quick, deadly slash. He only just managed to dodge and draw his blade, then parried desperately as a thrust followed it. He countered, getting some breathing space, and then saw the other guard dropping Nightingale and reaching for his own sword. He pressed the attack on the first guard, feinting high, then stabbing him in the thigh and following with a slash to the throat, but he took just a moment too long. The other guard's sword came lunging for his chest. He twisted, and it stabbed agonizingly through his bicep instead, scraping along the bone. The other guard recovered, but too slowly, and Vesimr stabbed him in the eye.
They had finally reached the door. It wouldn't be far to the woods, and then they would be able to lose their pursuers. The guards at the facility weren't trained in tracking. He only knew it from his prior experience, so he should be able to lose them. He shoved the door open, then staggered as something punched him hard in the back, and he staggered, looking down to see the broadhead of a crossbow bolt protruding from low on the left side of his chest. He coughed hard and painfully, blood splattering on Nightingale's white dress, but forced himself forward into the woods.
He was slowing down badly, though. It was getting harder and harder to breathe, and his vision was greying out. Ahead of him, he saw… two figures on a road? They'd gotten that far? One of them had a bushy tail and ears of some kind, but the other… the other was wearing the robes of a Redeemer. Oh no… We were so close… He saw the two figures coming closer, but couldn't hold himself up any longer, collapsing. Nightingale fell with him.
XXXX
Margaret was enjoying the day, their fourth since leaving Clastorn. They were in no particular hurry, and today, at least, was a bright, sunny day. She could hear birds twittering in the trees, and see the occasional one flying by. Shining, though, didn't seem to be enjoying the day. Instead, she was looking around, warily.
"What's wrong, Shining? It's a beautiful day, and I don't hear anything in the woods that we should be worried about." She looked over at the Sarkaz woman, catching a slight flush on her face.
"I suppose I'm just a bit on edge," Shining admitted. "We're supposed to be passing by that facility Esitha mentioned today, though, and places like that… there might be someone there who would recognize me. I'm just nervous about that. You're probably right that there's nothing to worry about, though."
They continued on along the road, passing a side road that led towards a gate which blocked access. The gate was guarded, but the guards only looked up to see that the two travelers weren't heading towards them, then turned their attention back to whatever they were occupying themselves with. Through the woods, they could see a clearing, with some buildings in it. The road ran on for a while, then bent to the left, wrapping around the facility. Shining quickened her step, clearly eager to be past it, and Margaret matched her pace. They were about halfway around the buildings when Margaret heard something and stopped.
"What is it?" Shining's voice was sharp, questioning. She knew that Margaret's Kurantan ears were far sharper than any Sarkaz's, and Nearl waited a moment to be sure of it.
"Some kind of commotion by one of the buildings. An alarm? And I hear… that's a crossbow shot!"
Shining's expression tightened, going worried. "What are we going to do?" It wasn't a complaint, but a question. Margaret picked up the subtext clearly enough. The ex-Redeemer knew that the right thing was to wait, and be ready to intervene, but her fear of bringing down trouble onto them made her unwilling to suggest that course.
"We wait," Nearl said. Shining tensed slightly, and then relaxed. "If trouble comes our way, we react as seems appropriate." She tensed too, as she heard a cracking in the woods. She turned just in time to see a wounded man supporting a white-haired girl in a hospital gown come staggering out of the woods. The man looked at them, hope flaring on his face as he saw Nearl and then dying when he recognized Shining… and then he collapsed. The girl he'd been propping up fell too, and despite his wounds the man tried as best as he could to cushion her fall. Nearl's face hardened, and she rushed forwards, kneeling down next to the two of them.
"What's happening?" she asked the man quietly, her tone hiding the instant flash of protective anger that surged up when she saw the scars on the young woman's body.
"She's… test – cough – subject," the man, who was wearing some kind of uniform, managed to get out, blood spattering on the road as he coughed. "Had to… get her out… couldn't let them – cough – keep tormenting her…" Margaret looked up, hearing more movement in the woods, and saw a dozen armed Sarkaz, wearing the same uniform as the wounded man, making their way towards them. The man saw where she was looking, and reached up, gripping her arm weakly. "Please," he begged, pain clear in his voice, "protect… Nightingale." His grip slackened and his arm fell away from her.
"Piekło," she cursed quietly, seeing the tears springing to the young woman's – Nightingale's – eyes, and drawing her mace, turning away from the dead man to face the oncoming guards. Shining was kneeling next to the two of them, but her eyes were already sorrowful, and Margaret knew that not even her Arts would be able to save him.
"You there! Step away from the subject, and no harm will come to you!" The leader of the oncoming squad barked the order, gesturing with his empty hand. Margaret glared at him, dropping into a fighting crouch.
"And if we choose not to?" she said, her Arts starting to glow around her.
"Fire!" the commander barked in response, and half a dozen crossbows snapped, launching bolts at her. She sidestepped two, caught two more on her shield, and the last pair glanced off her armor, and she dashed forwards. Three of the guards leapt to meet her, driving in fierce blows from three different directions, clearly all competent fighters. She blocked a cut at her head on her shield, parried a blow at her leg with her mace, and let the thrust at her torso skate off her plate, using the momentum of her parry to punish that swordsman for overcommitting to his lunge, her mace cracking ribs and sending him flying backwards. Another slash came whipping in towards her head, and she shortstopped it with her mace, then lashed out with a precise kick as another guard came in, shattering his wrist as he cut up from below.
A fourth and fifth guard were joining in, and the commander lifted his sword too, pushing forward. They clearly expected Nearl to retreat under attack by four, but instead she attacked, bull rushing the commander and throwing him to the ground, before turning, striking one of the guards with enough force to blow completely past his parry and shatter his shoulder. A slash clanged off the back of her armor, and she pivoted, slamming her shield into the attacker's temple, and jabbed the last of the sword-armed guards in the solar plexus with her mace, doubling him over and then slamming a knee into his jaw, dropping him unconscious to the ground. The commander rose unsteadily… and she slammed him in the hip with her mace, throwing him back to the ground… just as the other six guards took aim and fired. She didn't have time to react… but as the bolts flashed towards her, the sky dimmed and a globe of solid, translucent light surrounded her, the bolts glancing harmlessly aside from it. The guards looked behind her… and she took the opportunity to attack, the shield of light following her.
The crossbow-armed guards broke before her charge, running back towards the facility. Nearl looked past them and saw another group, twenty or so at least, charging past them. She stopped her charge, falling back towards the road. The guards came after her, led by a tall, muscular Sarkaz wielding a heavy broadsword. She braced herself, blocking the blow he drove towards her, and countered, meeting his parry. The other guards were spreading out, surrounding her, as she traded a quick half-dozen blows with the guard leader. He staggered back as she landed a solid blow on his torso… and then looked past her at the source of her shield. The anger and battle-lust on his face drained away, replaced by fear. Nearl looked over her shoulder.
Shining had thrown her hood and cloak back, revealing her Redeemer's robes and face, her hand on the hilt of her sword. Blindingly bright light poured from the ricasso of the blade, and she looked like some ancient spirit of vengeance, staring down at the guards. "Absolutor…" the huge Sarkaz whispered, fearfully.
"Give up," Shining ordered. "My traveling companions are under my protection. You know what will happen if you challenge me on this." Her voice was nothing like her usual quiet, confident tone. Instead, it was cold and sharp. It wasn't a warrior's voice, but the tone of an executioner, or of the sword an executioner would use, if the blade could speak. Margaret felt a shiver travel down her spine, and the intimidating force of her friend's presence wasn't even directed towards her. The guards broke, slinking backwards, returning towards the facility.
Shining released her Arts as they retreated inside, her face softening back into the woman Margaret knew, and bent down, wrapping an arm around the shoulders of the weeping woman. Nearl joined her a moment later, bending down and stroking the young Sarkaz's long white hair. She said nothing, just gave the young woman the reassurance that someone was there for her in her sorrow.
Eventually a small bird, blue with a cream-colored breast, fluttered down out of the trees, landing softly on the dead man's chest. It chirped at the three of them, startling the young woman. She looked up, and then smiled through her tears. "Hello," she said quietly, extending a hand. The bird perched on her finger, trilling a brief little song. Nearl slid an arm around her, standing and helping her to her feet. Shining did the same on the other side.
"Thank you," the dark-horned woman said next, when the bird had stopped singing. "I don't know who you are, but thank you for helping me." She looked down sadly at the guardsman's body. "I… I don't…"
Nearl let Shining support the young woman, bending down and picking up the man's body. "We'll bury him somewhere safe," she said.
"I don't know why he decided to help me. I thought… but it doesn't matter, now, does it?" She shook her head, tears coming back to her eyes. "I probably will forget him, too. My memory is… something's wrong with me…"
"You won't forget him. I promise." Shining spoke up, quietly.
"But how? How will I remember him?"
"He gave you your name," Shining said, glancing at Margaret so quickly that the knight thought she might not even have realized she'd done it, herself. "Nightingale. You won't forget that, will you?" The white-horned woman's free hand brushed away Nightingale's tears. "That, at least, will always be with you."
XXXX
Nightingale looked around curiously as the two women who'd saved her stopped, the tall, armored woman who'd been carrying her on her back setting her down gently. She tried to get her feet under her, wobbled, and then slumped helplessly down, the white-haired Sarkaz woman catching her and stopping her fall, helping her into a sitting position.
"Your legs…" The armored woman sucked in a hissing breath as Nightingale's gown shifted, exposing her thighs.
"Umm… what about them?" Nightingale looked up inquisitively.
"Those scars…" The white-horned woman looked up at her companion, eyes narrow and face grim. "Sarkaz military-issued heavy arbalest bolts, probably fired from a static platform. It looks like we know how they were testing her. The only question is why. Nightingale? Do you remember why they were testing you in that facility?"
"My Arts," Nightingale replied quietly, holding up a hand and starting to draw on her power. The Sarkaz woman's hands flashed out, pulling her hand down.
"Lost King, no! Don't do that, Nightingale!" She broke off her focus, looking uncomprehendingly at Shining. "You're Infected, Nightingale. That means you can use your Arts without a focus, a staff or a wand or something… but it also means you should never do it. It will accelerate the progress of your Infection, and that would be… bad. You'll have to wait until we can find you a focus to show us what your Arts can do. Until then, would you mind just telling us?"
"Umm, no, I wouldn't mind…" She thought hard for a moment, trying to delve up the memories. It was easier than usual, since she'd been doing it recently, and since the period in which she'd been brought to the new room, with her bird. The bird helped her tie memories down, and she finally looked up. "I can… I can create projections of light that can interact with physical objects, and my Arts can dampen the effects of other Arts. I don't know if I can do anything else." She noticed a sudden look that came over the armored woman's face, and the Sarkaz woman's too, but didn't know what it meant.
"Well, hopefully we won't need you to be doing any of that any time soon," the armored woman said, businesslike. Then she paused, slapping her forehead. "Oh Pegasi, I'm an idiot. Shining, we forgot to introduce ourselves properly. Well, I suppose it can be forgiven since we were busy putting as much distance between ourselves and the facility as we could, but we should do that now. Nightingale, my name is Margaret Nearl, the Radiant Knight of Kazmierz. My friend, and traveling companion, is Shining, a healer."
"Margaret Nearl. Shining." Nightingale said the names slowly, trying her best to burn them into her memory. "Thank you so much for saving me."
"It was our pleasure," Shining said quietly, reaching out and laying a slim-fingered hand on her shoulder gently.
"By the way… Miss Margaret Nearl?" The knight blushed lightly, and laughed cheerfully.
"It's two names, you only need to use one or the other at a time, Nightingale. But ask away."
"Your tail… I've never seen something like it before. You aren't a Sarkaz, are you?"
"No, I'm not. I'm a Kuranta," Margaret said, bending down to show off her mobile ears and swishing her tail back and forth. "Most of us live in Kazmierz, though there are a few of us elsewhere, here and there."
"It looks so soft," she said wistfully. "May I touch it?" The other woman blushed.
"I suppose so, but be gentle. Shining, would you mind starting a fire?" Nearl bent down, sitting next to Nightingale. The Sarkaz woman nodded in assent, standing and heading off into the woods.
Nightingale gently stroked the Kuranta woman's tail. It wasn't as soft as it looked, the hairs strong enough that had they been shorter they would have been bristle-y, but still oddly pleasing to touch. "Thank you, Miss Nearl."
"You're welcome. Thank you for being careful," Nearl said, standing up. "Now, I should go help Shining out with setting up camp."
"Is there anything I can do to help? I don't want to be a bother," Nightingale asked. "I'm not… very strong, but if there's anything I can do, I want to try at least."
"Let me see," Nearl said, striding to the other side of the hollow they'd stopped in. "Hmm… hmm… Would you feel safe using a knife?"
"I suppose I could try," Nightingale said, nodding. "I won't need too much strength for that, will I?"
"No, you shouldn't. I just need you to cut up some of these strips of dried meat for us so we can use them in our dinner," Nearl said, coming across the clearing with a small knife, a flat board, and a bag of brown, leathery-looking strips. She set them down in front of Nightingale, and demonstrated. Nightingale watched carefully. She couldn't remember ever doing anything like this before, and didn't want to make any mistakes. "Now you try," Nearl said gently, reversing her grip on the knife carefully and offering it to her handle-first.
She took it, gripping the handle carefully, taking a piece of the dried meat in her other hand. She set the knife to it, and drew the blade towards herself. The knife bit in, and a slice of meat fell away from the strip. She set to it with a will. After a while, Nearl picked up the bag of meat, leaving a few strips on the table. "All right, it looks like you've got it, Nightingale. Tell Shining when you're done, it looks like she has the fire going."
The white-horned woman was in fact kneeling next to a small, crackling fire, concealed in a ring of stones. Nightingale watched for a moment as Shining fed the fire carefully, then turned back to her business of preparing the… jerky? The word popped into her mind from somewhere, and she tried to run it down.
"Go run and get the jerky from the picnic basket, honey," the woman's voice said. "Pappa and I want to watch the river for a little longer." Nightingale did, running to the blanket spread out under the tree at the top of the hill. She opened the basket, pulling out the flat paper package of dried meat, and taking a strip out, munching happily on it as she looked down at Mamma and Pappa sitting by the riverside, hands clasped as they leaned on each other.
She realized that she'd been sitting there motionless when she felt someone looking at her. Shining was giving her a concerned glance. "Is everything all right, Nightingale?"
"Yes, sorry… I just… remembered something, is all." She ducked her head in apology, and returned to slicing the jerky. Soon enough, she was done, and looked up, only to find that Shining had crossed the clearing near-silently, and was already kneeling down.
"Thank you very much, Nightingale." She paused, then set the cutting board back down. "It's a bit chilly over here, and that gown doesn't look very warm. Would you like me to bring you nearer to the fire?" Nightingale nodded, and Shining picked her up off the ground, carrying her over to the fire and setting her gently down.
"Here you go," Shining said, then pulled a blanket out of her pack, wrapping it snugly around Nightingale. "Now, dinner only awaits that jerky, so I'll go get it in." The black-clad woman added the jerky to a pot of slowly bubbling… something, which looked a bit like crushed biscuits in water.
"What is that?" she asked.
"Something they call skillygalee in Victoria," Shining answered. Nightingale giggled at the name, and Shining smiled too. "Yes, it sounds a bit funny to say. It's twice-baked biscuit broken up and boiled with salted or dried meat. I've added some wild onion and a touch of pepper."
"What's pepper?"
"A spice," Nearl replied from across the camp. "An expensive one, too. It's little black seeds that you crush up, to make food taste better. I didn't know you had any, Shining."
"Just a little," Shining responded, quietly, flushing a bit. "One of the refugees in the camp insisted I take it as payment for saving her husband, and I was saving it for a special occasion." She gestured elegantly to Nightingale. "I think that saving you qualifies."
Nightingale blushed. Shining stirred the skillygalee, and then took a spoonful out to taste. "It's ready," she announced, pulling out a flat plate from her pack. Nearl had one too, and then they both paused, looking at Nightingale.
"Here, use mine," Margaret said, extending her plate to Nightingale. Shining intercepted it long enough to fill it, steam rising from the food, before handing it to her. She took a spoonful, blowing on it to cool it, before taking a cautious bite… and exclaiming. It was much better than anything she could remember, certainly tastier than the bland food at the facility.
"Thank you," she said again, taking another bite. Both of the other women watched her, soft smiles on their faces as she ate. When she'd finished her bowl, Shining refilled it.
"You look like you need to get your strength back," she explained. Nightingale didn't object, finishing her second helping off quickly. She shook her head when Shining offered her a third helping, though. The white-horned woman nodded in understanding, handing the filled bowl to Nearl, and filling one for herself.
When the meal was done, Nearl took the dishes off to the side, washing them off and setting them on a clean stone to dry overnight. The tall woman returned, and picked Nightingale up, carrying her over to the tent. "Are you feeling tired, Nightingale?"
"Yes," she said quietly. With food in her stomach, the events of the day came rushing back, and she felt exhausted. Nearl laid her down carefully in the tent, and then wormed in next to her, pulling a set of blankets over both of them. Shining slid in on the other side, adding her blankets to the pile, and the three of them settled in, falling asleep in the dim red light of the dying fire.
