A/N: Yay I'm so glad you guys enjoyed that last chapter! I had a lot of fun writing it. And it always makes my day to know when someone had fun reading it, too. I really appreciate those of you who have been following along and/or reviewing. I know I'm far from perfect, and sometimes I look back at a chapter and just see all the ways it could have been better. But you guys have been very gracious and kind. Just wanted to take a minute to say thanks. :-) Okay, okay, sorry for getting all mushy. On with the story...

As they walked home together-Troi helping a battered Tarron and Riker keeping an eye on a drunken Carmen-the commander noticed that something seemed off. It made him feel strangely uneasy, though he couldn't quite place what was wrong.

Carmen stumbled over a rock in the path suddenly, swearing under her breath. Riker grabbed hold of her arm until she could regain her balance. "Watch it! How much have you had to drink?"

"It was just a pint," she grumbled. "And why is it so dark out here? Can't see where I'm walking."

"Where did you get a pint from?"

"They were playing this game...something called Chug, I think."

"Glugg," Tarron corrected. "Davar and his friends like to play. They mostly use it as an excuse to get drunk."

Riker shook his head. "And you just couldn't resist, could you?"

Troi looked at the commander over her shoulder. Go easy on her, she said, speaking into that sacred place where their minds touched. She's still learning to cope with her Betazoid abilities. And she's right-it is dark out here, isn't it?

Then Riker knew what had been bothering him. It was the moonlight-or rather, the moonlight's conspicuous absence. Never before had he seen the village shrouded in such darkness. He looked up to find great black clouds, like ships, sailing across the canvas of night. They blotted out the moon and the stars like ink to the paper.

Tarron followed his gaze. "The Drums are coming," he remarked.

"Drums?" Troi repeated.

"Summer storms. They come every year."

Carmen eyed the sky nervously. "Is that a bad thing?"

"No, not usually. The river will flood its banks, but our house and the inn will be safe. Wait-the river!" His voice rose with concern.

"What about it?" Carmen's foot struck another rock, but this time she caught herself. Then she glanced quickly at the commander as if to say, See? I'm fine.

"Well it also floods the highway every year, just north of town. If you don't leave for Kitadara by morning, you'll have to wait a whole week."

A wrinkle of concern sat above Troi's brow. Ready or not, looks like it's time we located the missing doctor once and for all.

Yes, Riker agreed. And the Romulans.

A cheerful glow emanated from the windows of the main house. In the barn, too, a small light flickered from the loft. "That'll be Jora," Tarron explained. "She likes it up there for some weird reason."

Carmen's face drew serious, sobering in more ways than one. "I think I'll go see her, say hello. Or rather...goodbye."

Troi nodded. "Take your time. We'll meet you back at the room." As the young woman trudged off, Riker felt a swell of sympathy rising in his chest. For all her reticence, Carmen always managed to get attached. More than she'd care to admit.

Tarron went on ahead, pushing the front door of the main house open. Right away, Riker could hear Lorana's cry of surprise. "What in the name of all seven deities happened to your face?"

"I'm alright!" he insisted, throwing his hands up as she charged at him from her armchair in the corner. She swatted his hands aside and examined him thoroughly, with much clucking and fretting.

"Was it that Davar boy again? Was it?" she demanded.

Tarron winced as she turned his bruised face this way and that. "Yes, mama."

She clucked even more furiously. "Why do you listen to him? His words mean nothing. Nothing at all."

"He was going off about Jora!" Tarron's defiance flared at the memory, then simmered quickly in the wake of his mother's icy stare.

"No son of mine will be returning fists for words, you understand me? Now go into the kitchen and wash your face. I'll be right in to fix you up."

"Yes, mama."

Baby Wren stirred from a blanket on the floor. The harshness of his mother's voice had unsettled him, and he began to wail with the loudest sound his lungs could produce.

"I'll take him," Troi offered, arms already outstretched towards the infant.

"Of course you will," Riker quipped.

Lorana turned his direction at the sound of his voice. Her jaw dropped open. "Mr. Will! You're bleeding!"

"I am?" He glanced down to see a crimson stain seeping into the shoulder of his tunic. Shards of glass, caught between the threads, glinted in the lamplight. "Oh. Must have been from that bottle."

"What bottle?"

"The one someone hit me with," he laughed.

But Lorana paled. "Don't tell me it was because of Tarron."

"It's alright, he only needed a little help." He tried to reassure her with a smile, but she was no longer looking at him. She glowered in the direction her son had shuffled off, and Riker swore that the very paint on the wall blistered beneath her glare. "Really, it wasn't a big deal," he insisted. "Just a scuffle, that's all. You know how boys are."

"Yes," Troi interjected, rocking Wren against her chest. "They're very reckless, aren't they? Brash. Cocky. Can't take them anywhere." And you wonder where Carmen gets it from, she added silently. The commander wrinkled his nose at her, but she merely giggled, delightedly smug.

Lorana cracked a small grin. The gibe had succeeded in cooling her wrath. "Yes, well, have a seat," she ordered. "Let me just make sure it's nothing serious."

He did as he was told, slipping his tunic up over his head while he sat on the edge of the armchair. Lorana swooned, momentarily forgetting how to speak. "Well?" Riker prompted. "How is it?"

"How-how is what?" she stammered.

"The cut."

"Oh!" Her cheeks turned a fierce shade of red. "It uh, it's going to need some cleaning to get all the glass out. Tarron's probably got the basin filled by now. I just have to...Wrennie needs to..."

Troi waved her off. "Don't worry, I've got him. I'd...I'd like to spend some time with him, anyway, since we're leaving in the morning."

Lorana frowned. "You are?"

"The Drums," Riker explained. "We'll have to leave early, I'm afraid. While the road is still good."

"Ah." Her hands clasped together in defeat. "Well, you've been a delight. All of you. And if you ever find yourself coming back this way…we'd love to have you again." She swallowed and then smiled at Riker, an unusually bashful gesture. Lorana wasn't the type to get emotional, he could tell. But her sincerity in the moment moved him. "Now come. Let's get you fixed up and then I'll pack some food for your trip."