Crevan woke from a nightmare, memories he'd thought buried came to the fore. He had enough practice not to scream himself awake. He set his feet on the floor and rose. He put on a robe, he wouldn't get any more sleep tonight. He heard the wind outside, reminding him of the coming of the white frost. It must have been that sound that triggered the nightmare. A pot of some infusion was sitting on a table along with Regis. It had been a long time since he'd seen the higher vampire, the last had been at Geralt's cremation.

"You're looking slightly better than when I last saw you," Regis said. "...At least you are awake."

"...Sleep is not easy here."

Regis poured two cups from the pot on the table. He pushed one to Crevan.

"It's one of Pen's favorite teas." He said. "It should help.."

He took the cup and sat in the chair by the fire. The Higher vampire took the chair opposite.

"...What woke you, other than the nightmare."

"Wraiths..." He said. "...Ones I thought long banished."

Regis looked to the window, a storm had rolled in during the feast and the wind was screaming Beansidhe loud. The sound had awakened the more sensitive of the court, including the twins.

"...Not many are sleeping with the wind screaming around the castle." Regis said. "It made a lot of people restless."

Crevan watched the fire dance from the wind down the chimney. The silence was what he needed to ask the question in his head.

"...Do they ever go away?"

Regis sipped his tea. He had a feeling Crevan wasn't just talking about the nightmares. He had heard the question many times over from those of the table.

"No, they become better, but do not go away..." He said.

The wind howled again, this a wail of pain. This was no natural storm, the weather workers would have warned them hours ago.

"...I am walking, what is the expression Lady Thorn uses, The blade's edge."

Regis watched the sage rub a spot on his arm, the top layer of skin gone from where he'd peeled it away in madness. He'd talked to the healers, shared their horror at what Crevan had done to himself.

"...I have no intention of seeking out anything, I know how stupid that is." He continued. "...and I am thankful that I would have to get past you to do it." He looked at the Higher Vampire. "...I doubt lady thorn or his majesty would allow such things in their domain."

Regis nodded. "...Possession of such things is grounds for banishment from both the High seat and the freehold. It does not mean that it does not exist, but the penalties are strict."

Another wail from the wind, it did sound like a Beansidhe. The unnatural storm growing in intensity.

"It sounds like the world is tearing itself apart out there..." Crevan said, deciding to change the subject. "...not a good sound..."

"No, it's not," Regis said. "...considering the day was mild, and no indication of a storm."

"...It reminds me too much of the frost, the cold spells the Rider's used."

Regis paused, he had not thought of that.

"Would your people have Weather workers?"

"The Aen Saevherne, but most of the sages are in The Court of thorns," Crevan said. "And I am here, the remaining ones..." He dropped the cup to shatter upon the hearth. "Find Lady Thorn, this is a faint...They are attacking the Court of thorns..."

Regis leaped up and headed out when one like Crevan said something it was worth considering.

"I know exactly where she is..."

The Vampire vanished into mist, seeking Pen.

The scream of her daughter woke Pen, She leaped from the bed throwing on her robe and hurrying toward the Nursery, running into Regis. The Vampire tackled a shadowed figure in the room.

"...Get them out..." The Gruteral growl from the shadows. "Call up the Ravens..."

Pen scooped up her children and fled the room, bringing them to the royal chamber. Regis came in a few moments later, still somewhat feral.

"...What is going on..." Pen demanded, trying to soothe her daughter.

"Funny dogs..." Deirdra said. "Funny dogs at home..."

That made her go pale, Nuada frowned.

"...Rouse the castle..." He hissed. "Bring me the Sage..."

The order was swiftly carried out.

Crevan had been given enough time to dress in tunic and trousers before two Raven guard and a thorn escorted him to the throne room. Pen, Nuada, Dain, Tam, and Regis waited for him. The Inner Court, wanting answers.

"...We managed a message to the Court of thorns, there was a raid." Nuada said. "Luckily they did not anticipate the human merchants there for the mid-winter fair."

"I have never been so thankful that the merchants are armed." Pen said. "...There are two prisoners and several dead hounds." She looked at Crevan, who had been shoved to his knees before them. "...I need to know if you knew about this prior..."

"No, it was the wind that reminded me of one of Ge'els' tactics of sending a storm and attacking where he thinks is the most vulnerable. And I know how much he despises you..."

"And the attack has cost him," Nuada said. "It will cost him more, the merchants carry silver and iron...and projectiles that shatter once inside the body."

Pen frowned. The loss of life saddened her, but anger had won out over the fact that it was her home they had gone after.

"Would Ge'els have lead this raid himself?"

Crevan wished to laugh, but that would not help the suspicion they had of him.

"He would not dirty his hands, he would choose another..." Crevan said. "...Or have the young king to chose..."

"...I want you present when we question the captives."

Crevan looked to the floor, then up at Pen. A choice, answer the pull or betray the blood once again. Pen knelt, lifting his chin and getting close.

"...I need you there." She said. "My sage..."

Something pulled hard, taking hold as she asked him.

"Yes..." escaped his lips, before his mind could decide.

Pen rose. "Take him back to his quarters...do not let him out until we are ready to return to the Court of thorns."

They picked him up and carried him out.

Nuada knew what Pen had just done, and by the way, she walked toward the windows was something she hadn't wanted to do. He followed and put his hands on her shoulders.

"...I had no choice," she closed her eyes. "...he is still Aen Saevherne."

Nuada knew what that meant, the sages were very much about the ends justifying the means. Singers were much like that as well, but it did not mean she liked it.

"You are not Ciri or Lara." He said. "You owe the Aen Elle nothing, the debt paid long before you were born."

"I know, this is just...Not fair." Pen said, cringing at her own words. "I sound like Sara..."

Nuada refrained from Jareth's answer.

"Fate is rarely like that." He said. "I am beginning to understand why you are finding the choice to have him go through the bonding so difficult..."

"...I still do not know what made Ciri love him." She said. "Nor the change of heart that made him betray his own people for her..."

"Love does strange things." He said. "I may have done the same in his skin. He did tell us of the deception of the storm...Even if he didn't know about the raid." He turned her to face him. "Let us deal with the aftermath of the raid, question the two captives..."

She nodded, "Yes, let's deal with this..."

He led her back to the assembled group.