Author's note: So as it turns out, rewriting this actually took a lot of my passion out of this project, but I'm trying to push through. I think once I'm back to writing completely new chapters, it'll speed back up again but for now, I'm kinda dragging my heels. Not a lot changed in this chapter, so I've really got no excuse for having taken this long. That out of the way, please enjoy and thank you for reading! :)

***Castle Araluen Grounds***

"I know nothing! I swear it!"

Halt glowered at the pathetic figure cowering against the tree. He was a good head taller than Halt, built like a farm ox, but you'd never know it with how he stooped as Halt leered over him. The rain was coming down hard and fast around them, and they were both soaked and shivering, but Halt refused to move the situation undercover, discomfort makes people talk.

"Little Pete tells no lies!" The man quivered like a leaf in a storm.

"That right, is it?" Halt barked, "Not according to what I've heard."

"You've heard all lies, master Ranger. All lies! Little Pete sold nothing to no one!"

"Little Pete better not be lying! Or I'll remove his lying tongue from his mouth."

Little Pete clawed at his throat, growing pale, "Not my tongue." He whispered hoarsely. "I need it."

"Need it for what?" Halt snarled, "Telling more lies?"

Little Pete shook his head viciously. His gray hair dripped as it swung in the wind.

"Who'd you sell the king's seal to? And how did you get it? You were seen making the deal!" Halt roared." Stop wasting my time!"

Little Pete dropped into a crouch on the wet grass, rocking back and forward like an infant. "Promised not to tell." He whimpered, "Promised not to tell."'

"Promised who?"

"Halt!" Halt glowered at the man before turning to see who had called. Gilan walked across the grass, huddled deep in his cloak, bracing against the rain and wind.

Little Pete launched from under Halt and took off like a bird in the wind towards the castle village and disappeared before either ranger could react. Halt swore and slammed his fist into the tree. It hurt like a bitch.

Gilan froze in place, eyeing Halt warily. "Should I come back?" he said softly.

Halt took a moment to compose himself, jammed his injured hand in his pocket, then whipped around to face Gilan.

"Yes, Gilan?" He asked, keeping his voice level with incredible difficulty.

Gilan hesitated, avoiding Halt's eyes. "This came for you." he lifted his cloak just briefly to reveal a letter. Halt held out his hand for it but Gilan frowned. "Maybe we get out of the rain first?"

Halt just grunted and stalked towards the village, Gilan followed silently.

They stopped under the eaves of a flower shop and Halt held out his hand again. Wordlessly, Gilan handed the letter over.

Enjoy the show Ranger. The boy will suffer greatly before he dies. I thought it fitting he should feed the same beasts you left my son to.

Halt closed his eyes for a long time, holding the letter to his heart. Even though he had no idea what show he was supposed to be enjoying, this meant, without a doubt Will was still alive. And if he was still alive, he could save him.

Gilan spoke again, "What did Crowley say to you?"

Halt froze, recalling the conversation.

"You're not going to like this Halt." Crowley had said, "I've been in correspondence with Baron Arald, and he has men out looking for Will. I need you to look into this business with the smugglers and the kings seal. We need you present."

"And Gilan?"

"Can continue to help search for Will until he can't be spared. I've sent back up to Meric."

Halt looked at Gilan now, peering at him from under his cowl.

"Never mind what he said to me, what did he say to you?"

"I'm to keep searching for Will," Gilan said, studying his boots. "I'm heading to Galrun, it's where our assassin came from. Some of the locals here recognized him. Said he was a regular trader. Owned an apothecary."

"Galrun?" Halt frowned, the name was familiar but he couldn't place it,"Where the hell is that?"

"It's a farming village south of Redmont. On the Upper Salmon River."

Halt sniffed, digesting the information. "Apothecary, you say?"

Gilan nodded. There was a small silence between them.

Halt nodded again, his anger from before draining out of him, only to be replaced by exhaustion.

"I could be heading that way too." He said with a weary sigh, "Let's not waste time. One more coffee, and then we'll hit the road."

Halt convinced himself he was doing the right thing, and that it was all related to the smugglers anyway. What was the harm?

***Castle Araluen***

The running man stank of sweat and fear as he barreled through the bakery door, knocking over pots and pans and crashing to the floor in a shaking heap. Everyone present froze for a second before the few waiting patrons fled, not waiting to find out what was happening. The lead baker, a huge balding man with a heavy red moustache and eyebrows like thunderclouds, marched over and cleared his throat with authority.

"Ya wanna break anything else while you're at it, Little Pete?" he barked. A few mice scurried to the safety of the pantry.

Little Pete looked up in fear, cowering behind bags of flour. "He knows about the deal," he whispered, inching backward across the wooden floor until his back found the wall.

The baker's eyes widened. "What have ya done? Ya didn't tell him!"

"No, never! Says I got seen, but I know I didn't. There wasn't anyone around but us."

"Ya damned fool! You've likely killed us all. Set that damned ranger on us. He'll hunt us down like dogs if he knows the boy is here!"

They both turned to look at the barred wooden door at the back of the room, hidden by shelves of cooling loaves.

"Maybe we just get rid of him? I don't want grief from any ranger."

Little Pete shook his head violently, sending water everywhere, "He doesn't know the boy is here. If he did, He woulda asked, and he didn't ask. "

"You'd better damn hope he doesn't" The baker slammed his hand down on a bench, sending flour everywhere.

Little Pete fell silent, and the baker wiped his hands on his apron.

"The sooner this is over, the better. I don't want any grief from the ranger or the other, thank you very much."

Little Pete nodded frantically. "Okay okay."

"Now get outta my damn shop!"

***Somewhere between Castle Araluen and Galrun***

"Halt?"

"Mhm?"

"Are you okay?"

Halt's fingers went white on Abelard's reins, but he said nothing. Gilan felt sick. He was beginning to think he and Halt would never speak freely again. He'd barely slept since Will had gone, barely eaten. His clothes didn't fit right, and his pants kept sliding down, which would have been funny if it weren't so sad. Will had been more than just an apprentice to Halt. Gilan had been one of the few lucky to know the whole story. And thinking that he had been at fault for his possible death made Gilan want to puke. Will was only a kid. Far too young to die like this.

Halt nudged him, bringing him from his reverie.

"How are you, Gilan?" he asked mildly, staring straight ahead.

"We don't have to talk." Gilan studied Blaze's mane, "I understand you're still angry. I understand. I would be too."

Halt snapped around to look at him, eyebrows impressively high. "I don't… I'm not angry at you, Gil." he gruffed, "I'm just…" he made a wild gesture and huffed. "I'm angry at the bastards who did this. And at myself for letting it happen. Blundered right into their plan like a fool."

Gilan was speechless. Halt looked away, and was silent.

At that moment, they came over a rise in the road and headed down into the mud that was thick with weeds and litter. Two people were walking slowly back the other way, clearly deep in conversation. "It'll be the show of the year in Galrun." The man said as he passed by them.

Enjoy the show Ranger

Halt went white and brought Abelard around so fast, Gilan's head spun.

They only caught the end of the mans next sentence. "Strange people are letting their children wander about so freely. I'd be too afraid mine would be taken."

His companion nodded and drew a cross over her heart. "Particularly this close to the sacrificing ritual. To stave off the forest spirit."

"The what?" Halt demanded, leaping off Abelard and coming to stand and inch away from the little man's face. Gilan followed quickly behind.

The little man swallowed, looked between Halt and Gilan and took a few steps back, sweat springing across his brow despite the chill in the air. "You know." he choked out, "The giving festival. Where they.. you know." he was panting now, and tugging at his collar.

"Actually, I don't know. Why don't you inform us?" Halt's voice was a dark and quiet growl.

"Well. It's where we leave offerings for the forest gods, so they don't steal our children and our crops." he said it like it was a question and Halt took a further step into his personal space and grabbed his shirt with a firm grip.

"What offerings?"

"The usual… Uh… Fruit? Lambs? Sometimes gold?"

"Ever any people?" Gilan cut in, his heart in his stomach.

The man went very pale. "I mean. Not generally. But."

"But?" Both Halt and Gilan spoke as one.

"It's not unheard of."