"The barbarians are fundamentally different in temperament from us. Their culture is steeped in primitive superstitions far removed from anything resembling civilization. For as long as they live in such squalor in the Grasslands, these so-called clans will always resent us, coveting the wealth of our society, and the blessing of the Goddess. Every man of Zexen must keep watch against these savage beasts, taking care that they never sully Zexen soil and its sons and daughters. Only through such vigilance does our fledgling nation deserve to stand the test of time."

—Speech delivered by Sir Charlem, Captain of the Knights, at the Customs Assembly, IS 422

Chapter XVI: A Certain Meeting

(--)

-Dupa-

Dupa stalked along the ranks of the saraak warriors arrayed before him. His war cap clanked with each step.

"Hear me!" he said, hefting his halberd. His voice was answered by a deafening roar from every throat.

Dupa slammed the butt of the halberd against the soil. "Hear me; the Ironheads approach. They are not the same, and yet they are. These foes come from afar, but they are no different from the Ironheads our mothers and fathers fought, and our grandmothers and grandfathers before them."

The sun glinted on the scales of the saraak warriors as they clanged their weapons against each other in reply.

"The Ironheads have made the voices of the Spirits distant, by living on stone and wrapping themselves in iron. They have no courage, so they hide their hearts from the Spirits!" He swished his tail through the dirt, growling in a low voice. He saw Hrunga, with coppery scales and a scar across his jaw. Makele, head and shoulders above most others, stuck out like a anthill beside the warriors around her. And there, at the end of the column, Mharag's stared at him, grinding his poleaxe. These were warriors without peer. They were saraak. The Ironheads were many, but they would bend like willows before their fury. He grinned, raising his halberd to the high sun.

"Death to the Ironheads!"

They would be victorious.

-Chris-

The walls of Bylsma's wagon were covered by shelves, all filled to capacity with the woman's belongings: carved animals of bloodwood and ebony, lacquered pewter figurines, and embroidered wool caps, all strewn about the shelves in a jumble. There was no method to the madness that Chris could see, but the woman had paused several times to arrange an item here and there as the wagon shook across the dips in the road.

"I do not know how to thank you," Chris said. "I did not expect such kindness."

Bylsma smiled. "Do not be too quick to thank me, child. You're not out of this yet."

Chris shook her head. "Even so, we owe a lot to your assistance." She felt her pockets. "I do not have a lot of potch, but—"

Bylsma's smile drained from her face. "It'll take more than potch to make me risk my family, child." She leaned back in her chair, folding arms over her chest.

Chris' eyes narrowed on the woman. "Excuse me?"

"I simply did what was best for us at the time. You'd already dragged us into this."

Chris stood up. "I did not ask for you to get involved." She fought to keep a frown off her lips.

"You certainly did not." Bylsma stood, jabbing a finger at the cloth-covered table. "You dragged us into this the moment you made your appearance at the gates back in Brass Castle. And now you're trying to dump your traveler's purse on me and leave me with the soldiers? I think not."

Chris felt her ears burn. "It was I who got you through the gate in the first place."

Bylsma laughed. "You did us no kindness, child. We've been through this a thousand times, and we always look after ourselves. All you did was draw attention to us; attention we don't want."

Chris rubbed at her chin as she felt the wagon roll to a stop. "You would have preferred me to stand and let it happen?"

Bylsma swept her hands at Chris. "Yes! Already this Captain Huarn and his soldiers have commandeered several of our wagons for their own use. You got us involved in this mess, and so now you're involved with us."

The beaded curtain covering the wagon's doorway rustled, and Hugo ducked into the wagon, halting at the sight of the two women. The look on his face told her he would just as well turn and leave.

"The foreigners are making camp. The Huarn fellow is coming this way." His eyes darted between Chris and Bylsma. "What's going on?"

Bylsma's smile returned, as broad as if it had never been gone. She stepped around the table towards the two.

"The two of you are going to play your parts." She extended her open hand towards them. "You must promise me that you will remain with the caravan until the Harmonians leave, and that you will keep up your charade to the best of your ability."

Hugo's jaw dropped.

Chris realized that she was grinding her teeth. "What if we do not promise?"

"Then," Bylsma said, sighing, "The moment Captain Huarn walks into this wagon, I'll tell him the truth."

Hugo cursed the runes. "You'd sell us out to him?"

Chris motioned for him to be silent, and turned to face Bylsma. "What would this charade entail?"

The woman's eyes fairly twinkled! "You'll be the perfect husband and wife. You'll get a taste of what life as a Wind Seeker is like. You'll adhere to our traditions to the hilt."

Hugo muttered something under his breath. Chris did not want to know what he said. She glared at the woman, painfully aware of her own heartbeat as she considered the offer. If she did not agree, the jig would be over, and the Wind Seekers would likely be caught in the crossfire anyway. But she understood that Bylsma could hardly trust her, either. After all, why wouldn't they just leave at the first opportunity? Huarn's rage could tear the caravan asunder. Besides, how bad could their marriage traditions be?

She sighed. "I promise."

Bylsma smiled. Hugo's reaction was a look of utter disbelief.

"You don't know what you're doing."

Chris turned to face him. "This is the choice I least resent." The words tasted bitter in her mouth.

Hugo shook his head, raking hands through his hair. Chris heard footsteps outside the wagon. She fixed her eyes on him.

"Hugo, promise her."

Swallowing an oath, he reached out to touch Bylsma's hand, ducked his head, and said, "I promise."

Smiling, Bylsma turned her hand over to reveal the glowing white rune on its back. "Good. The Symmetry Rune has sealed your oath. Until the spell is broken, your charade will become truth."

Chris' eyes widened as she took in the sight of the rune. With the spell wrought, the pattern's glow was receding back to a pale outline, no more than a scar in the skin.

"You…!"

Bylsma sighed, tracing the rune with her finger. "At least you'll be easier to deal with than that girl, sleeping the days away, emerging from the wagon only to throw tantrums and make petulant demands."

The curtain rustled behind them.

If Huarn had not arrived at that moment, Chris was not sure what she would have done.

-Bylsma-

Bylsma held the curtain aside to watch 'Helen' follow Captain Huarn towards the hastily erected command tent. Soldiers were milling about the site, pulling at canvas and securing guy ropes even as their commander ducked through the opening, followed by the Silver Maiden. She glanced at the Karayan boy, who watched the procession from the outskirts of the halted caravan. His eyes found her, and she smiled. He shot her a dark look.

"Aunt," Rakma said, climbing the front of the wagon and smoothing her skirts. "Why the charade? Why don't you just tell Captain Huarn the truth? We did nothing to upset these Harmonians."

Bylsma chuckled, sweeping her fingers across the young woman's cheek.

"When did we ever do anything to upset anyone, dear? Soldiers are all the same, no matter what flag they hoist." She motioned towards the flagstaff being erected near the command tent, bearing the circle emblem of Harmonia in blue and white. Running her fingers over the Symmetry Rune affixed to her right hand, she could almost imagine it reacting sympathetically to the sign embedded upon that flag: the crest of the True Rune that gave it birth.

Rakma sat down and began to undo her braid. "Why make it worse, aunt?"

"Because, dear, we have a chance to make it better."

"I don't understand."

Bylsma shot a pointed look at Hugo. "See that boy?"

She frowned. "The one caressing the hilts of his daggers? Of course." Hugo was stamping his feet impatiently, arms crossed over his chest, but his fingers kept reaching for the dagger on his back as if they had a life of their own. He was very clearly trying not to touch the weapon.

"What can you tell me about him?" Bylsma asked.

Rakma shook her hair free. "Only that he's Karayan. And that you're taking a big risk if you trust him to play his part well. He doesn't look like the deceptive type."

Bylsma chuckled. "He may yet surprise us. That boy isn't just any Karayan. He's Hugo, the son of Chief Lucia."

Rakma's jaw dropped.

Bylsma grinned, gathering up her skirts to step out of the doorway and sit down cross-legged in the driver's seat. The horses had been unhitched and taken out to pasture, and the afternoon sun felt pleasant upon her skin. "Chris Lightfellow, of the Zexen Knights, and Hugo, son of Chief Lucia." She gave Rakma a pointed look. "Those two are the future leaders of the Grasslands, mark my words. Zexen, and the Clans… I don't know what these two are up to or how they even came to travel together, but no doubt it has something to do with the Harmonians. Once the invaders are gone, these two will go back to their homes and a conflict neither understands but will both devote their lives to. And meanwhile, perhaps, after I'm through with these children, they will have learned something about the Wind Seekers. About what our lives are like."

Rakma crept up behind her, placing her hands on her shoulders. "Aren't you worried that they'll resent you for what you've done?"

Bylsma chuckled. "It's a risk, but I'm sure I can turn this to our advantage."

Rakma stared at Hugo, pouting. "Do you really think those two are lovers?"

"Of course not, silly girl," Bylsma laughed. "It's just a trick. I'm sure they're both chafing under the lie." She tapped her lip, raising a brow at Rakma. "Hugo would make a good match for you."

Rakma cast her eyes down, brows furrowed as she studied her nails with great interest. She shrugged. "He's handsome, even for a Karayan."

Bylsma patted her shoulder. "Stay close to him if you can. After all, he is the future chief of Karaya."

Just then, Hugo looked up at them. There was a strange look on his face. Somehow it reminded her of a mouse watching a hawk swooping down towards it.

She smiled at him.

-Huarn-

"Zexeners and Grasslanders don't often marry, do they?" Captain Huarn said. The fold-out chair creaked as he leaned back.

"That is correct," the woman across the table replied. Poised with casual authority in the makeshift chair, she seemed at ease even with his eyes no doubt boring a hole in her head. Golden-haired, smooth-skinned, and slender, she was quite something to behold. Whether she was Helen of the Wind Seekers, or the Silver Maiden of Zexen, he envied the man who could put a smile on that stern face.

"That would make you the exception," he said.

"Yes."

He shifted in his seat. "At Brass Castle, you had a sword. Is it customary for women among your people to carry a blade?"

"It was not mine. I was pretending to be a knight, to get us through the gate."

Huarn cradled his head in his hand, regarding her coldly. He was not accustomed to being misled by his intuition.

"My dear lady, do you expect me to believe the sheer coincidence in all of this? Here I am, searching for the fabled Silver Maiden of Zexen, and who should come waltzing through the selfsame gates under my scrutiny but a young woman matching the description nearly to a tee, wielding a sword and acting like a knight."

The smile on her face was apologetic. "I understand how you could find that difficult to believe, Captain. However, I had heard that the," she searched for the word, "...Silver Maiden... died."

"My spies assure me the rumors are exaggerated."

She looked surprised—or she feigned it well. "Truly?"

"True as Lord Hikusaak himself, may he be eternal."

She bowed her head slightly.

He leaned on his hands, let out a small sigh, and fixed his gaze on her beneath lidded eyes. "I must admit, I'm finding it hard to believe that a girl like you could run a knighthood, even in a backwaters place like Zexen."

He strained his eyes, focusing on her features to try to detect the slightest hint of a reaction. There was nothing.

He was beginning to doubt his own intuition. After all, what he had said was the truth: she did not seem a warrior, much less a knight. There was a streak of iron in her manners, but he thought her a courtier, or a merchant's daughter. Not a soldier.

"You may go," he said, making a gesture for the tent flaps.

She stood. "I am sorry to disappoint you, Captain Huarn. Does this mean that you will be leaving the caravan?"

Huarn leaned back, folding his arms over his chest. "No. I pledged to escort the caravan for a time, after all. I won't break that promise. Perhaps I'll find something interesting along the way."

"Perhaps." With a slight curtsey, she bowed out of the tent.

Huarn cast one last wistful glance at the nape of her neck as Helen strode out. Could she be the Silver Maiden? How the knights got anything done with a woman like her wearing breeches like those around them, he had no idea.

Three seconds passed before Serfein stepped out of the shadows.

"Do you believe her?"

Huarn left his seat to pace up to the entrance of the tent and back. "Yes. But my intuition still tells me not to."

"My spies do not fail."

Huarn chuckled. "All spies fail. All the world is a lie, and then the truth turns out to be nothing but a joke. Perhaps the Silver Maiden truly is dead."

"I can make her talk." Serfein touched a hand to her shoulder. "I'm no stranger to torture."

He looked her in the eye, hesitating.

"No." He shook his head. "I serve the Bishop Sasarai. I won't sully his name."

"If you fail, Bishop Sasarai will sully your name."

"Not yet, Serfein. Not yet."

-Hugo-

Chris' shoulders seemed to sag as she left the shadow of Captain Huarn's tent, as if suddenly unburdened. The setting sun bronzed her hair as she approached him.

"Well?" he said.

Chris glanced back, but kept walking. "I think he believed me. At least, I am not in chains. That is good, is it not?" She stroked her still-sore wrists. "Would you believe he fell for your marriage sham? Hah! Why would a Zexener marry a Grasslander? Preposterous!"

Hugo smirked, looking her over. "Right. Preposterous."

Seeing his look, her eyebrows shot up. "What?"

He shook his head. "Nothing. What do you think he'll do now?"

All around them, the Wind Seekers were milling about their wagons, loading and unloading supplies which they ran between wagons on wheelbarrows, while small tents and simple canvas awnings were raised against the vehicles' walls. The soldiers were long done with their preparations, and now lounged around their tents, playing at dice, or tended to their horses.

Chris glanced back at Huarn's tent. "He will keep watching us. No doubt he suspects the truth, but he cannot be sure, and he probably will not act until he is."

"But he won't let us go until he's found the Silver Maiden."

She nodded. "Or until he's convinced that she's dead." She balanced on her heels, adjusting the tight-fitting top with a frown. "This garment chafes. I believe it is too small."

"It looks fine to me," Hugo said, then quickly coughed and added, "So, I guess we keep up the charade?"

Chris looked at him. "I wish…" Her words trailed off.

"What?"

"Nothing," she said, shaking her head, "It is nothing." She gazed into the horizon, shielding her eyes against the quickly setting sun. "You know the area better than I do. What should we do?"

Just then, the Knight Class Gunner, Serfein, came sweeping out of the tent. She paused outside to give them a long, searching look. Then she started towards them.

"Well, first of all," Hugo said, turning his face away from Serfein, "Why don't you get a little closer, dear?" He held out his hand.

Her eyes bulged. "Pardon me?" Her voice sounded strained.

"It's that preposterous thing, remember? And don't look at me like I killed your dog."

She stared at him, mouth hanging open.

"Is it not enough that we are… together?" she said.

He chuckled. "Now that would be preposterous. Come here, take my hand."

She knitted her brows, but drew closer. She took his hand. "Is this better?"

He squeezed her hand and grinned. "Much."

She frowned. "This is amusing to you. You are doing this to mock me."

He could not help but laugh. "You're pouting."

"I am not."

"That gunner's about to pass us," he whispered. Feeling bold, he put his arm around her waist. He felt her turn rigid, but she soon relaxed, and did not resist.

Serfein traded glances with them as she passed by, mere feet away. Hugo smiled at the woman, but held his breath until she was far away on long strides.

Chris exhaled. "I think she fell for it." She paused, then glanced at him with a raised brow. "Are you going to take your hand off my waist?"

"Huh? Oh, right." For some reason, part of him hated to let go.

"Come, walk with me," he said, yanking her arm lightly to make her follow as he started down another path through the caravan. "You won't become a barbarian just by being near me."

"I understand that—"

"Good, because it's a step-by-step process."

She staggered to keep up with his pace. "Let us be serious for a moment. I asked you a question."

He turned, and she stumbled to a stop at arm's length. "Since when do you want my opinion?"

She cocked her head. "Since just recently."

"Sure. Alright." He sighed. "This is all plainsland. If Huarn's keeping half as close an eye on us as I figure he is, we would never be able to outrun his cavalry. We could sneak away in the night, but I wouldn't be so sure we'd reach Chisha without running into Huarn or other Harmonians."

"In my experience, Grasslanders are never short of hiding places."

Hugo's eyebrows shot up. "Are you saying we're cowards?"

"Do not be childish."

Her hand felt clammy in his, and he let it go. "We can talk about cowardice—"

"Do not misunderstand. I mean to say that Grasslanders are well at home in this terrain. Do you not have tunnels to take you between Brass Castle and Chisha?"

Hugo stilled his breathing. "No. There are safe places, but sticking with the caravan would be faster. The Grasslands are probably crawling with Harmonians by now. I figure our best bet is to stay right here until we reach the Stillwoods, and go from there."

Chris frowned. "That will be at least three or four days at this pace."

Three or four days of fighting, of Harmonian soldiers making their way through the Grasslands, and him unable to do anything to help his people. He smiled apologetically. "That's how it is. Besides, I don't know what kind of spell Bylsma put us under. It might prevent us from leaving."

She sighed. "And even if not, leaving now would put Bylsma's people at risk. As we have already done."

"Right." Turning uneasily, he spotted an approaching woman. "Speaking of which..."

Bylsma came upon them with a smile. "It's a fine evening, isn't it?"

Hugo smirked. "I hadn't noticed."

The woman tucked her arms into her fringed sleeves. "I've prepared a wagon for you."

Chris glanced at Hugo. "It would be easier if we both quartered separately. We do not need to chase anyone out of their wagon."

Hugo shrugged. "It doesn't matter to me." What was she playing at?

Bylsma flourished her hand with a little laugh. "Have you forgotten that you're married?"

Chris' face went blank. "Surely you do not expect us to—"

"I don't care what you do once you're alone in your wagon," Bylsma said, shaking her head, "But you'll adhere to our traditions. I'm sure even Zexen couples share a room. How do you expect to pull this off if you can't even stand to sleep in the same wagon?"

"She's right," Hugo said. "It's a small thing. Karayan men and women sleep in the same tents, most of the time. I'm used to it."

Her eyes narrowed on him. "Are you, now?"

Hugo coughed. Well, maybe not with women like Chris.

Bylsma crossed her arms in front of her body. "There will be no discussion. Solve it."

Chris pushed out her lip. She looked at Hugo. Then she nodded.

-Nash-

Nash kept to the caravan, keeping out of sight for the most part. He was squatting down by the side of a wagon, arms draped over his knees as he thought. With a Knight Class Gunner around and Hikusaak knows how many more gunners, he did not want to be recognized. Serfein was young, and she would not know him, but she may well put two and two together and figure it out if he gave her too many chances. It was never a good idea to take chances with the Guild.

Worse, Nash had to consider the fact that the Guild was working with the Chimera. Chris and Hugo had fought gunners—they had said as much, and he did not doubt the truth of their words, though he struggled to find the connection. At Tarnay, the two had faced illusions of a saraak raid, and then been hunted by these gunners, apprentices no doubt, who they eventually managed to kill in the forest. Hikusaak knows how! Even apprentices should not have failed such an assignment, especially with Hunter Runes at their disposal.

Nash ran a coin over his knuckles, frowning. If Serfein was involved with this 'Chimera,' that was bad news. The illusions of the Chimera had thus far been used to incite a war between Zexen and Clans, and had been doing a good job of it, too. Nash knew for a fact that Bishop Sasarai had no hand in this. His concern was, first and foremost, the True Runes. But strange things were happening in the Grasslands these days, and too many shadows seemed to have a hand in the troubles. As long as he did not know who these shadows were, he could do little to prevent whatever was coming.

Nash rubbed at his back, standing up to squint against the setting sun. He was getting too old for this; much too old. Before anything else, he had to get a message to Bishop Sasarai. A report was overdue.

-Sarah-

Sarah squinted against the brilliant hues of the setting sun, tracing her fingers idly over the shell of a Water Rune crystal. She did not feel the lingering heat of the eventide sun, but she could imagine it, sweltering over the swaying fields of the aptly named Grasslands. From her perch on a low hill, she could see miles in every direction, but chose to turn her back on Bishop Sasarai's sprawling encampments in favor of the endlessly open landscape before her.

"I don't believe we've met before," a voice cut in behind her.

She turned to see Luc approach her, hesitating with a boot on the edge of the precipice. Only his eyes were visible through the impassionate mask, but she could imagine the smile on his lips.

She glanced at the distant activity in the camp below before she smirked. "Indeed, Masked Bishop. I would dearly love to make your acquaintance."

With a few slow steps, Luc was beside her. He placed his hand on her shoulder. Sarah relaxed, pausing to feel the warmth of his touch through the leather gloves. When he pulled back his hand, he ran it through his sweat-soaked hair.

"I shouldn't have dressed for Harmonia. This heat is grueling."

Sarah reached out a hand towards him. "I could use my rune to—"

"No." He pulled away, placing his fist against his side. "No more runes."

She frowned. "Not even your own?"

He faced her, pushing his mask closer. "People will have to get used to life without runes. Most of all me. Remember?"

A chill that had nothing to do with the Water Rune ran down her spine. "Don't say that. You can still find another way."

He turned his back on her. "No."

She frowned. Did he think this discussion was over? Well, he was in for a rude awakening if he did. She wouldn't just let go that easily. Men needed a good talking to now and then, and she was just the woman to give it to him. He was too stubborn; that's all! Letting it go for now, she sighed, and asked, "How was sleep?"

He squared his shoulders. "Brief."

She sneered. He didn't have to sound so satisfied! "Let me help you—"

Luc ran a hand over his scalp, pausing while clutching a handful of hair, as if something had occurred to him suddenly. "Something is amiss."

Her heart leapt, and she looked around. "What?"

"No, not here. Elsewhere. There's something… It doesn't have to do with Sasarai. I'm confident that… No, it's something else entirely."

Sarah stepped closer, tilting her head to get a better look at his eyes. "Is it… the rune?"

"It's from the rune." He turned to look at her, struggling to express a concept he could not quite voice. "It's… a memory, but not of the past, but of the future. Do you understand?"

She raised a brow. "Not quite."

He shook his head. "Neither do I. But the True Wind Rune is trying to tell me something. There will be… interference. And something is about to awaken… Something we thought was lost."

"You need to focus," she said. She was about to say, 'you need rest,' but thought better of it.

Luc watched her in silence, and then turned to walk back down the hill.

"Yes. The war is about to begin."

Without moving, she watched him go.

-Hugo-

The dream was still affixed to the curb of Hugo's consciousness when he shot up from sleep. Lying there, breathing heavily as his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he found himself staring at the hardwood of an unfamiliar ceiling. Outside, the familiar sounds of crickets and frogs chirping in the Grasslands night soothed his spirits, but some moments passed before he remembered where he was; sleeping on the floor of the Wind Seeker wagon that had been vacated to make room for him and Chris.

Chris. She seemed asleep, though he could hardly hear her breathing behind the veil that separated the bed sized for two built into the wall of the wagon. It was sized for two, but not for two such as them, and though Hugo could not understand her needs for privacy, he had not hesitated to give it to her.

He blinked, wiping sweat from his brow as he leaned on an elbow, watching her sleeping for form vaguely outlined behind the veil. In the dream, it had been his hand that thrust the blade into Lulu's back. A far more brutal, deliberate act, beyond anything he had ever accused Chris of. The thought poisoned his mind.

He clambered to his feet. Padding over to the window, he parted the silky blue curtains and looked out to see the moon high on the night sky. The sun was far from rising. He glanced at his crumpled bedclothes and shook his head. He doubted if he would be able to get back to sleep. Linens rustled behind him, and he froze. Chris turned restlessly in her sleep. The memory was faint, but she'd been there, in his dreams. Hugo swallowed.

He had to go for a walk.

-Caesar-

Caesar Silverberg scratched at his neck, blowing a stray lock of hair from his face as he leaned out the window of the wagon he shared with Apple and, of late, Lily Pendragon. It had been a chance encounter, but circumstances had forced the three of them to share a wagon while traveling with the Wind Seekers. He pulled at his collar and exhaled. The heat was unbearable, but then, he very much doubted if there was a wagon large enough to comfortably share with that insufferable Pendragon woman.

Movement in the sleeping caravan caught Caesar's eye, and he held his breath and watched as a figure climbed down from the front of a nearby wagon. When the moon's touch swept over the man's features, he saw that it was Hugo, the Karayan who had become a part of their band of misfits at the Brass Castle gates.

Caesar studied him as he wandered aimlessly between the wagons. He kept his distance from the hastily erected military tents, where restless soldiers stood on watch around glowing fire pits. Hugo kept walking, but moved neither closer nor farther from the wagon he'd emerged from. So, he wasn't going to escape? Caesar wondered at the events that had brought him and his so-called wife, 'Helen,' to this time and place. Captain Huarn clearly suspected the two, or the woman at least, and Caesar would wager a potch or two that there was more than met the eye to the presumptive couple. It seemed too obvious. But then, he had to admit, the situation was made for delicate hands to handle, and the captain's hands were tied for as long as there was doubt to their identities. If he committed to his suspicions, he would leave himself wide open for a counterattack, in whatever form, and of course he would not want that. Caesar very much looked forward to seeing how this little charade would play out. He could not help but wonder if his brother were somehow involved in all of this. Sometimes he felt as if everything bad that happened in the world could be traced back to Albert's agile fingers.

Behind him, the Pendragon woman stirred and muttered something in her sleep. Sighing, Caesar sank down from the window onto the small cot he'd been awarded. He would need some sleep if he were to deal with the woman again tomorrow.

Not to mention Apple.

-Chris-

That morning, Chris found Hugo outside of the wagon, watching the Wind Seekers pick up their belongings and prepare for departure as the morning sun washed over the encampment. A fresh breeze kept tossing her hair into her face, but Hugo had assured her in most serious tones the night before that a recently married Wind Seeker woman would keep her hair loose and free. She was sure she had seen women in the caravan with their hair put up in fanciful dos, but who was she to doubt his words when he was so adamant about it?

She shook back her hair as she approached him.

"Have you been up long?"

He squinted up at her. "A while."

She frowned. She could tell by the bags under his eyes that he had been up most of the night. She had to bite back the desire to berate him about staying up. Why it was any of her business at all, she could not say. It really was not. He could take care of himself.

"You have… interesting dreams," she said.

Even without his eyes, she knew when he had left the wagon. Even before then, he had rested fitfully, and with only the veil separating their resting places, she'd been privy to the incoherent mumblings he'd produced in his sleep. Colorful mumblings, to say the least, before the dream had turned sour and Hugo woke up in a fit of troubled gasps. She couldn't help but flush as she pushed down the memory. Who had he been dreaming about, she wondered? Now that certainly was none of her business.

Hugo's brow shot up, but then he grimaced and nodded. "It was nothing. I just had a nightmare."

A nightmare? Well, it certainly ended that way. But that couldn't have been all of it. Not with the snatches of monologue she'd picked up.

"If it bothers your rest, I can find somewhere else to sleep." There was not a hint of resentment in his voice.

"No," she said without hesitation. "I slept well enough." She shielded her eyes from the quickly rising sun and looked out over the Wind Seekers and the soldiers as each group dealt with the final preparations for the day's journey. She had slept well; that was true enough. But more importantly, she was not about to force even more of the Wind Seekers to vacate their homes to accommodate her. She could not expect things to be as they had back in Vinay. Hugo obviously had no compunctions about nor serious problems with sleeping in the same wagon as her, so why should she? He certainly had better reasons to resent her.

She looked out over the swaying grasses on the horizon. The caravan had veered off the old stone road and now followed the semblance of a dirt track through the grass ocean. "Why does the caravan not follow the most direct route towards the border?"

Something gloomy came over Hugo's eyes. "This is the most direct route."

Chris blinked. "No, it is not." She waved her hand at the landscape as if to draw a path across the hills and plains. "The path we are following takes us a considerable distance around where we should be traveling to get to Chisha as quickly as possible. You must have noticed this." She tilted her head at him.

Hugo was beside her. He spoke in a low voice.

"The straight path would take us through the forbidden ground."

"Forbidden?"

Hugo placed a hand on her shoulder. "You know how the War of the Fire Bringer ended?"

She knew what her history books said, but not what the Karaya taught their children. "Enlighten me," she said.

Hug nodded. "The war ended with a final conflict right here, in the Grasslands, between the Flame Champion's coalition and the Harmonians. Because the Flame Champion couldn't keep the True Fire Rune under control, there was a huge inferno that swallowed everyone, Harmonian and Grasslander alike. Thousands of people died there."

Chris nodded slowly, fixing his eyes with her.

"The Forbidden Ground is the site of the inferno."

Hugo stared into nothing.

Chris was about to ask a question when a shout interrupted them.

"This is insufferable! Is there no one here who will tend to my needs?"

It was a young woman's voice. It had caught Hugo's attention, and the blood had nearly drained from his face. Turning in surprise, Chris watched as a familiar face emerged from a nearby wagon.

A face she hadn't seen in years.

-Yumi-

Yumi squatted down at the edge of the woods, watching the encampment through dense bloodwood leaves swaying in the breeze. To her eyes, the wagons in the distance were the size of stones fit to be clasped in her hand. Figures, like fire ants milling about an anthill, appeared and disappeared behind the vehicles, and smoke rose from evening campfires in the midst of the makeshift wagon fort.

She ran her fingers over the trunk of a tree, feeling the roughness of the bark through her leather gloves. She squinted at the shapes passing by.

"I think I see Harmonian soldiers."

Yun's eyes were closed as she adjusted her fur-lined dress-jacket. "Yes."

"That might be a problem."

"No."

Yumi smirked, turning to look at Yun. Eyes still shut tight, the apple-cheeked girl smiled without breaking her concentration.

"We should stay here. She will come to us."

Yumi smoothed down the skirts of her own dress-jacket over her thighs, sighing and pushing out her lower lip. "Little sister, you'll tell me beforehand if there's going to be trouble, won't you?"

Yun giggled, covering her mouth.

Letting slip another deep sigh, Yumi shook her head and kept watching the wagons.

A smile crept back onto her face.

-Lily-

Lily adjusted her wide-brimmed, feathered hat as she stormed out of the wagon and skipped down onto the ground. Caesar hurried behind her, raking his hands through his hair and buttoning up his jacket.

"Bylsma? Where are you?" she called. Where was that woman? She was being treated without respect. First, she had to share a wagon—her, share a wagon!—and with such maddening nitwits no less. Then, there was no breakfast, and no service to speak of at all. Certainly no lunch! She huffed when she saw that the Wind Seekers were at best halfway done with their morning preparations. They should be well on their way by now! There was no word for these conditions but insufferable.

Caesar caught up with her. "Listen, don't you think you're asking a little too much, here? I mean—"

Lily silenced him with a glower, to which he had no answer but a grimace.

"Bylsma?" Grumbling, Lily stalked towards the elder's colorful wagon near the middle of the caravan. No doubt she was sleeping the day away. How these people got anything done without her, she had no idea. Worse yet, people seemed to be avoiding her, not that she could understand why. Here, Wind Seekers carried their sacks behind their wagons. There, others hid in their chores, knowingly ignoring her. Even the children seemed to be giving her a wide berth! She pushed past an oafish young man standing in her way.

"'Scuse us," Caesar muttered, bowing his head.

Lily paused, blinked, and turned to get a better look at the face of the man she'd pushed past. Her eyes bulged.

"Hugo? What are you doing here?"

He tensed up, glancing both ways as if seeking an escape. Him, of all people? How rude!

Then she saw the woman at his side.

Lily gasped. "You are…!"

Chris' mouth opened, and Hugo's hand went to his knife. Then, Caesar was behind them, grinning as he put a hand on each of their shoulders.

"—married!" he finished. "That's right! You're a very perceptive woman!"

"Caesar, don't be ridiculous. This is—"

"It's true," Hugo said, snatching up Chris' hand. Chris gave a look of surprise, but it quickly turned into a nod and a small smile.

"Yes, we are married," she said.

Lily paused. Caesar was giving her the strangest look, motioning with his head towards her as his features tensed up briefly. Chris kept glancing to her side, splitting her gaze between Lily and something else. Lily followed her eyes and saw that a group of soldiers were approaching them, led by Captain Huarn, who stalked towards them with a look of determination and purpose on his face.

"Lady Pendragon?" he called out. The soldiers fanned out, and the captain was before her. He bowed at the waist, keeping one hand on the hilt of his sword. "I am Captain Huarn, of the 282nd West Company, of Harmonia."

Lily mouth twitched. She glanced at Caesar and back at Captain Huarn. "A gentleman, at last!" She crossed her arms over her breast. "Can I help you, Captain Huarn?" Her mind raced. Hugo and Chris, married? Impossible. She fought down a frown. Yes, impossible. Definitely. But something was going on here, and Caesar seemed to be in the know. How could she possibly have missed the two of them joining the caravan? When had that happened? People were keeping her in the dark!

Captain Huarn bowed once more. "If it pleases you, I would like to have a word with you in private, Lady Pendragon."

Lily furrowed her brow. "Is something amiss, Captain?"

"Not at all," he said, smiling. "If it pleases my lady…?" He waved his outstretched arm at the sizeable brown canvas tent erected near the middle of the caravan. Around them, all activity had died down, as the Wind Seekers watched the scene unfold, huddled around their wagons.

Lily nodded. "Of course."

Glancing back, she saw all three give her the strangest looks.

She shrugged.

-Hugo-

Hugo felt his heart sink as he watched Lily follow Huarn as if she had not a care in the world. The captain's soldiers spared the three of them one last glance before they hurried off to escort the pair towards the tent. He turned to meet Chris' eyes. "You know her, too? The Spirits must be angry at us."

Chris sighed. "The Goddess certainly is not smiling."

His fingers felt clammy on the hilt of his dagger. He looked at the red-headed boy Lily had called Caesar, trying to gauge his intentions. "Listen—" he began.

Caesar's eyes were fixed on the blade of his dagger. He grimaced. "If I'd wanted to blow your cover, all I'd needed to do was to keep my mouth shut just now. Though I'm still not sure if it had any effect on her. She can be pretty thick-headed."

Chris looked him up and down. "Are you traveling with Lily?"

"'Fraid so," he said. He looked almost apologetic.

She took Hugo by the arm and led them out of sight from the soldiers. "I do not trust Lily to pull the wool over Huarn's eyes. I hesitate to say this, but we might need to make the first move." She had planted her other hand on her waist, looking somewhat lost without a sword at her side.

Hugo nodded. He pulled out his own dagger and presented it hilt first. "Here."

Her lips parted momentarily, but she took the weapon, staring at the wavy patterns carved into the hilt.

"I can't—" she began.

"Just use it," Hugo said. He pulled out Lulu's dagger, testing its edge on his finger. Keeping their weapons low, they began to stalk towards the captain's tent. Caesar hesitated, eyes darting this way and that, but then he nodded and veered off from them.

"Hey!" he called out to some nearby Wind Seekers. "A little help, here?"

Hugo drew a deep breath. He looked at Chris, and they nodded at each other. He thought about the spear-wielding soldiers surrounding the miniature encampment, and weighed his odds.

Well. Better than dying in his sleep.

-Huarn-

With a smile, Huarn sank into his fold-out chair across the table from Lily Pendragon. It was difficult to contain the sense of triumph. He felt Serfein's presence in the shadows; her eyes on him. Even better that she should be here to witness his success.

"Lady Pendragon, you're well acquainted with the Silver Maiden, I take it?"

Lily's face was blank. "Who?"

Huarn's brow rose. He leaned forward in his seat. "Chris Lightfellow."

"Oh. Yes, we've met before."

Settling back, Huarn tapped his fingers together. "But you didn't expect to see her here."

Lily blinked. "I don't understand what you mean."

Huarn froze. He peered at the woman across the table. She had taken her ostentatious hat off and placed it upon the command table, and now sat twirling a lock of hair behind her ear. She looked honestly perplexed. How could that be?

Huarn cleared his throat. "Were you surprised to meet Chris Lightfellow here?"

"I did?"

She looked almost bored where she sat! Huarn felt blood pumping into his cheeks. Suddenly, Serfein's presence was not such a soothing thing. If he'd ever seen the woman smile, he would've sworn she was doing it now. He suppressed a brief frown and tried to put on a pleasant face. If the girl would play games with him, he would abide by her rules.

"Your friends from outside," he said, pausing to run a hand over the chair's arm. "You know them well?"

Lily puffed herself up. "Yes, we're good friends."

Huarn nodded slowly, smiling. "I never caught their names."

The girl smiled. "Really? That's a shame."

Huarn almost darted out of his seat. Slowly, surely, he drew a deep breath and cradled the chair's arms with his hands.

"Perhaps you can tell me," he managed through gritted teeth.

Lily raised an eyebrow. "Is this an interrogation?"

Huarn shot up, hands balled into fists. A look of surprise came over Lily's face, but she met his glare with a calm patience, as if watching a child throw a tantrum. He could detain her. He could, but, it would make a mess of things. Above all, it would be a headache.

"Well, is it?" she asked.

Hesitating, Huarn glanced at the shadows where Serfein was waiting. He then fixed his eyes on Lily Pendragon.

Weighing her fate in his mind.

-Chris-

Chris and Hugo squatted behind the corner of a wagon, making passes with their eyes at the commander's tent from which Lily had yet to emerge. Chris squeezed the dagger in her hand—she'd been surprised but, somehow, touched to find Hugo willing to lend her the weapon—and kept her mind spinning by counting the steps of a lone soldier wandering about the tent in a confused semblance of order. The soldier was watching the frantic motion of men and women and carts and wagons around the tent, but seemed powerless to influence or make sense of it.

At Caesar's word, the Wind Seekers had erupted into a whirlwind of activity. Horses were trotted around the area, while a wagon was drawn aimlessly across the caravan, surrounded by wheelbarrows carrying little or nothing between the wagons. The Wind Seekers were alive with conversation; shouts of instruction and admonition shot between the work groups running around seemingly without direction. In the middle of it all stood Bylsma, hands planted at her sides as she watched the chaos unfold around her. The soldiers had, at first, tried to stop the madness; tried to get the Wind Seekers to settle down and clear a path around the commander's tent and their own pickets, but after speaking at length with the Wind Seeker elder, they had resigned themselves to merely watching.

Caesar was fanning his face as he sat down beside them, out of the frazzled soldiers' field of vision. He grimaced.

"That's the best I can do on such short notice."

Chris glanced at Hugo, then shrugged.

"I am impressed."

Hugo nodded. "You've got a knack for this sort of thing."

Caesar chuckled. "It runs in the family."

Chris followed the soldier with her eyes as he struck up a conversation with a sergeant. Neither man seemed sure of himself. She watched them shake their heads, pointing at the ongoing chaos around them and shrugging.

"We need to make our move. Lily has been in there long enough. I do not think she will come out." Where was Nash when you needed him? She frowned.

Hugo grunted, flicking his dagger from hand to hand.

"Listen," Caesar said, licking his lips. "I really have to say, I advice against this."

Chris and Hugo both fixed them with their stares. Caesar grimaced, pulling at his collar.

"I'm just saying, you're outmatched. I mean, you two look like you'd wrestle a boar and everything, but it'd be outright stupid to charge into that tent without at least some sort of plan. Really."

Hugo looked at her and smirked. "We've been through worse. Right?"

Chris winced. "Right."

Caesar muttered something under his breath. "Look, just listen for a second—"

"Don't listen to him," a new voice said. "Caesar's just a busybody who's always trying to convince others to do what he wants. Don't let him talk you out of anything!"

Chris had shot to her feet the moment she heard the voice. Her eyes now bulged from their sockets. From the other end of the wagon, Lily came strolling around the corner. She adjusted her hat and grinned.

"What?"

Chris shared a stunned look with Hugo. She shook her head. "Nothing." She walked up to the girl. "What did you tell him?"

Lily threw out her arms. "Nothing. He was a pussycat to my touch." She strutted, hands planted at her waist.

Hugo exhaled slowly, then muttered something under his breath.

Caesar rubbed his hands together, looking either which way. "Can I suggest that we find a quieter and cozier place to talk?"

No one objected to that. They started down the still-chaotic jumble of wagons as the caravan began to move in earnest.

Lily leaned in to give her a strange look. "I had no idea you got married."

Chris sighed. "It's a long story.

Chris would not glance back, but she could hear Huarn's orders being relayed to the officers, and through them, to the soldiers. Soon, the Wind Seekers would be under way again. And not a moment too late.

-Huarn-

Huarn sagged back into his chair with a sigh, rubbing at his brow.

"That girl… She really is the daughter of the Mayor of Tinto?"

Serfein walked up to the tent flap, feeling the canvas. "Yes."

Huarn shook his head, chuckling. "Imagine that; Harmonia's agents extending such courtesy to a mayor."

Serfein tilted her head. "Tinto is a powerful city-state. The Lord Mayor has more influence than many kings and queens. In fact—"

He held up a hand. "Spare me the lecture. What do you make of Lady Lily?"

She walked slowly along the edge of the tent, running a gloved hand along the canvas. "She is either a genius playing the fool, or a fool playing the genius. Either way, she is supposed to be a friend of Chris Lightfellow."

Huarn rubbed at his chin, narrowing his eyes. "Howling Voice Guild intelligence?"

Serfein stopped, facing him. "Common knowledge."

"So you keep saying," he muttered. Standing up, he thrust his hands into his pockets. "So she'd recognize Chris Lightfellow, without a doubt."

They were both silent for a moment.

"I should spy on them," she said. "I will find the truth."

He waved his hand dismissively. "No. Something bothers me."

There was a twitch at the corner of her mouth, and she took a step forward. "You should see this as more evidence of the connection."

Huarn frowned. "I'm not with the Howling Voice. I need to be sure before I put a sword in someone. I need to know." Realizing that he had raised his voice, he took a deep breath and sat down in his chair. Curse the Guild to chaos and beyond!

"How can you still doubt?" Serfein asked.

He turned his head towards her. "Let's say we assume we're right. Let's say the Silver Maiden is alive and is trying to trick us. Well, what if this is a red herring? What if the Silver Maiden sent a decoy to string us along. Even if we extract a confession from this 'Helen,' it might turn out to be nothing but smoke and mirrors, and meanwhile, the true Silver Maiden runs free in the Grasslands."

Serfein leaned against the central pole. "Do you really think her capable of such subterfuge?"

Huarn balled up his fist, feeling the leather of his glove crunch in his hand. "I don't know. But I do know that General Kalanov was sure that Ghanmar would come through the pass."

"Kalanov was your grandfather." Her face betrayed no emotion.

"Assassinated by gunners." The words felt like bile in his throat.

"Executed," Serfein said. "The Guild serves the Perpetuator."

He was not so sure of that. "I will not make the same mistake. I will not be sure, when there is still the possibility of an error."

"As you wish. What would you have me do?"

"I need you out there, looking for more trails of the Silver Maiden. And I need you to make sure that the siege doesn't fail because we didn't anticipate the Zexen counterstroke."

Serfein started towards the exit. "As you wish."

After she left, Huarn stood. Hands clasped at his back, he stared at the flickering light of the lantern suspended from the canvas. The Silver Maiden might yet elude him, but he was not done. All he had to do was to prove beyond doubt that Helen was none other than Chris Lightfellow, and not an impostor, nor another person entirely. He crunched his gloves in his fists, relishing the sound of crinkling leather.

He needed to push her buttons.

-Chris-

"My, my," Apple said, putting the hot tea pot down on the bloodwood table. The cups clattered with the motion of the wheels over the rocky ground, as the five of them sat on chairs, beds, and the floor of the cramped space inside the wagon Lily shared with Caesar and Apple.

Smoothing her skirt, Apple pushed her glasses back against the tip of her nose and sat down, one leg over the other.

"So, you're friends of Lily?"

Hugo shrugged, "Not really—"

"Yes," Lily said, beaming. She gave Chris and Hugo each a quick pat on the back.

Chris cleared her throat as she picked up her cup. "Lily, listen. We would rather you not—"

"This," Lily said, pointing at Chris, "Is the Silver Maiden of Zexen. The captain of the knights." She gave a satisfied smirk. "Can you imagine that? She's almost as famous as I am."

Chris sighed, sipping her tea. "Never mind," she mumbled into the cup.

Caesar and Apple gaped at her.

"You're Chris Lightfellow?" Apple asked. She adjusted her glasses as if to better see her. "I'd heard you were young, but…" She shook her head.

Hugo stood up from the floor, nearly hitting his head on a lantern dangling from the rough motion. He steadied himself against the wall.

"I think it's too late to try to keep the mice in the bag. They already know too much. Huarn's not letting us go, no matter what, I think, but maybe together we'll stand a better chance of reaching Chisha. If we can make contact with my mother…"

Caesar's ears perked up at that. He and Apple shared a look.

"You have the look of a Karayan warrior," she said. "Could your mother be Chief Lucia?"

Hugo frowned, but nodded.

"What are the odds…?" Caesar muttered.

Apple sat up straight. She pointed to Chris, then to Hugo. "And you two are…?" She passed over the word.

"—No," Chris and Hugo said simultaneously.

"We are pretending to be husband and wife to evade notice." And how well it had worked so far. Chris' sighed.

"It's complicated," Hugo said.

Caesar rested on his side, looking up at them. "I'll bet. Don't Zexeners usually hate Grasslanders, and vice versa?"

"Usually," Hugo said.

Chris cleared her throat. "As Hugo said, it is complicated. He and I have become… friends." She almost stumbled over the last word. Even then, she almost felt she wanted it back. Did Hugo feel the same? She glanced furtively at him, but saw no reaction. No, of course not. He wouldn't feel the same; not after what she was guilty of. And it had been an exaggeration on her part, naturally. She emptied her cup, staring into it.

Lily leaned in. "So," she whispered. "Hugo's available?"

Chris nearly dropped the tea cup. "What?"

Lily nudged her shoulder, nodding at Hugo. "If you two aren't an item, that means he's available."

"Certainly not," Chris hissed. She blinked, catching herself. "I mean," she said in a low voice, "I do not know. You will have to ask him." She glanced at Hugo. He didn't seem to have caught any of their conversation, but was instead intently watching a colorful rug hung out to dry in the window as he balanced against the wall. Strange, she'd never thought about it. Maybe he had some fiancé back in Karaya. What was left of it. As the chief's son, it seemed natural that he would have. Not that it concerned her. But Lily had asked, after all.

Lily shrugged, smiling at Hugo as she whispered, "That doesn't matter. I just wanted to be sure that you don't want him."

Chris froze, staring at Lily. She could not think of anything to say to that.

-Alron-

"Sir Borus," Alron said, standing up to extend his hand to the man who walked up this table. "I'm glad you gave me this chance to explain myself."

Borus took his hand. "I received your message." He seemed stiff, and his eyes swept over the rundown taproom of the Brass Castle tavern. It was a slow day, but as the late afternoon crossed into nighttime, people had begun to filter into the taproom to escape from the toils of the day. Alron's table was in an alcove near the back of the smoke-filled room. His sword was laid out across the wooden bench beside him.

"Please, have a seat." Alron motioned for the chair. With a nod, Borus sat, and Alron joined him.

Borus' eyes wandered. When they met his, they hardened. "I need to know that what the Captain said about you is not true. I need to be sure."

Alron nodded slowly, placing his palms on the table. "I understand. Do you believe it's true?"

Borus hesitated, but then shook his head. "A knight would never act in such a manner. But why would the Captain lie? I cannot reconcile these two untruths."

"She did not lie," Alron said. "But neither is it the truth."

"How is that possible?"

Alron leaned forward, hands clasped before Borus. "You've seen some strange things of late, have you not?"

"At Iksay, I saw the Captain die… But it was an illusion." Borus frowned at the table, pursing his lips as he obviously struggled to make sense of the situation. He looked up at Alron hopefully. "Are you saying that… this was an illusion, too?"

Alron leaned back. "Yes." Predictable Borus, filling in the blanks. This would work out, after all. He felt a bit guilty about lying to a knight, and a good man too, but Borus was blinded by the woman's beauty. He was a true patriot, but his lust for the Captain was his failing. He would be made to see eventually that the future of Zexen was more important than a woman. This was the right path to walk.

"The Grasslanders are the source these illusions, Sir Borus. Their heathen shamans weave demonic spells to ensnare our minds; turning knight against knight. They're trying to destroy us before the war even begins."

"But how…" Borus shook his head. "The Captain I saw in Vinay must have been the true one. She cannot have been an illusion. She was so…" He paused, burying his head in his hands with a troubled groan. "Can't I trust my own eyes?"

"She was the true Captain, Sir Borus. But she was not in control of her own mind at the time."

Borus' eyes flashed when he looked up. "What do you mean?"

Alron nodded eagerly. "Yes, she was under the spell of the barbarian, Hugo. Why else would he be present in Vinay? Why else would she take him to her bosom?"

Borus gritted his teeth. Alron could almost sense him bursting inside at the insinuation put forth. Inwardly, he smiled.

"That cur!" Borus stood, slamming his fist against the table. Around him, people looked up from their games of dice and cards to glance over at them, but beyond a few whispers, the order was soon restored. No one would question a knight, even one dressed as casually as Borus. Not to mention that some of them likely recognized the 'Swordsman of Flame.'

Borus face was red. "Yes, it all makes sense now." He paced along the long end of the table. "The Captain seemed so unwilling to speak of what had happened. It must have been the barbarian's influence." He turned to Alron. "Why else would she not trust me with this? And,"—he continued to pace—"why would she not outlaw you, if you had done those terrible things?"

Alron nodded. "You see!" The Lightfellow woman was playing right into his hand. He had considered that same question, but had reached the conclusion that the proclamation had been stayed so that word of her return to Vinay would be kept quiet. As far as most people were concerned at this time, the Silver Maiden had fallen in Iksay. Being considered dead, she would have far better chances of remaining undercover.

Borus gnashed his teeth. "Everything makes sense. Yes, the barbarian must be responsible, as you say. After all, you are a knight. You could never do such a horrible thing as the Captain said. It's laughable even to consider!"

Rage filled Alron, but he fought it down. Borus was definitely too deep in the Lightfellow woman's grasp. He had seen through her intentions—she was moving soldiers away from the heartlands of Zexen to the bolster the defenses at Brass Castle against the Harmonians. It was nothing less than treason. Would others notice? He had to admit, she had been discreet. The barbarians would tear Zexen to pieces if it was allowed to go on. But, once the woman was dead, she would make an excellent martyr to stoke Borus' rage against the Grasslanders. If Alron could guide events just so, he would be able to undo the damage that the woman had done, and perhaps even build upon it, making Zexen's position stronger. He looked up at Borus.

"Sir Borus, calm your nerves before you leave. Sit, and we'll have a drink."

Borus nodded, sitting down and calling for a tavern wench.

Alron smiled to himself.

-Rina-

Moonlight filtered down through the canopy of the forested ridge, glinting against the blades of weapons and on pieces of armor as the Grasslanders advanced. Rina marched at the front, hands parting her hair to display the light of the Mother Earth Rune's glow. The branches parted before them. Leaves and twigs shrank from their feet. Through the power of the rune, Rina felt the woods in her heartbeat.

Lucia stalked beside her, coiling and uncoiling her whip. Her brow was furrowed in concentration.

Hundreds of campfires lit up the night below the ridge like fireflies in a meadow. Sentries patrolled in the faint light, circling tents stacked in deep rows in the shadows.

Lucia crept up to the edge of the ridge and crouched there. She looked back, signaling her lieutenants, and then nodded. She looked up at Rina.

"We're ready."

Rina dropped her hands. "The camp looks calm. Do you think they noticed us?"

Lucia shrugged. "We'll attack. How do you feel?"

"I'll hold up my end of the bargain."

Lucia's lips were pressed together. She raised her hand to call the attack.

Bells tolled in the camp below. The Grasslanders stirred, startled by the sound. Before Rina could speak, she felt the presence of magic. It built, and she shrank back. Her eyes widened.

"Run!"

The wave hit the ridge with the force of a hurricane. Leafs rustled, then branches snapped, and then trees cracked and fell. Rina raised both hands, manifesting the power of her runes in a shield. The barrier buckled, and she was knocked down.

Rina's limbs ached. The gale drowned out all noise around her. She pushed onto her feet and scrambled back. Lucia dragged herself up beside her, blood pooling down her forehead from a wound near her hairline. Rina reached out and clasped her hand, pulling her along. The forested hill was littered with bodies, some cut down like grasses, others mangled as if by a giant's fist. Most of the trees lay sprawled over the ridge, laying bare the night sky.

Lucia screamed something, but the wind drowned it out. Clothes and hair flapped like wind-beat flags. She shook her head.

The living retreated.

(--)

Author's Notes:

Whew. It's been too long. I hope you enjoy it. The next chapter is already well under way, and it'll be up in two weeks.

As usual, comments both negative and positive are always welcome, because it's fun to read them. :)

Next Chapter:

The appearance of Yumi and Yun further complicate things. The marriage traditions of the Wind Seekers become more and more constricting. How far are Chris and Hugo willing to go to keep up the charade? As Huarn loses his patience, things come to a head. Lily, exuberant in her enthusiasm, might end up making matters worse. Borus races towards the Wind Seeker caravan, filled with rage.

And somewhere in the Forbidden Ground, something forgotten is about to awaken… Next time, in Blazing Waves, Burning Rain!