It was a few days later before they ventured deeper into the marsh. Zangarmarsh's raised boardwalk paths were safe enough, but they only extended through the most traveled areas. Often the two hunters would follow a meandering path into a wilder area of the marsh only to find splintered, rotted boards before them marking an ominous end to the known and the safe. The marsh was beautiful, but its beauty could beguile the unwary traveler into a false sense of tranquility. There was viciousness here as well as beauty; everything was hungry, from the sodden ground that sucked at feet and hooves, to the towering, graceful fen striders that swayed on willowy legs through the marsh's channels and plucked their prey from the water to devour it whole.

They were following one of the less distinct trails south through the bog when the misty wind carried a low, trumpeting snarl to their ears. Hyara and Galmak stopped abruptly and peered between the mushroom trunks to the side of the path. The sound echoed weirdly, dampened by the soft ground and the trunks, then died in a muffled thud. Fireflies and marsh lights drifted in a sudden breeze. Hyara dismounted and stepped cautiously off the path to get a better look at something glowing a faint blue between the trunks. She sprang back abruptly when she realized what it was. She motioned to Galmak, who dismounted and joined her.

"There's a sentry totem over there," she whispered. "See the glow?"

He nodded but stayed where he was out of the totem's line of sight. "Could you tell if it was Horde or Alliance?"

"Definitely not a draenei totem."

"Alright, maybe I should check it out. Whoever it is might need help." She nodded and he started to creep in the direction of the strange sound when they became aware of an approaching squelching noise. A brown-maned tauren stepped into view near the totem and recalled it back to dust with a casual wave of one huge hand. He looked straight at Galmak and roared, then charged forward. Hyara jumped in fear as Galmak shouted and ran to meet the tauren barreling at him. She had unslung her bow, fitted an arrow, and was trying to get a clear shot at the tauren before she realized that the two men were slapping each other on the back and grinning. Hyara lowered her bow in confusion, but relief was replacing her fear.

"By the Mother, it's good to see you, Galmak!" the tauren was saying. "Our paths haven't crossed in so long."

"Too long, old friend," Galmak grinned. They walked toward the path and now the tauren saw Hyara. He stopped.

"That's the draenei I saw through my totem." He fingered a mace casually.

Galmak glanced between the two of them and smiled. There was no doubt in his mind that they could share their secret with this shaman, one of his oldest friends and one of the wisest and most understanding people he knew. "Hyara, this is Chetvek. I've known him practically my whole life. He's as good a friend as they come. And, old friend, this is-" he broke off. More squelching noises approached, and an orc and a blood elf emerged from the mist between the trunks.

"That was some noise you made. I thought the whole point was to stay quiet out here," the orc said. He glanced at Galmak, then his eyes slid to Hyara. The blood elf was staring at her.

Hyara realized she was still holding her bow and that the smart thing to do would probably be to drop it and let Galmak talk this out, but she couldn't seem to let it slide out of her fingers while that blood elf still had his glaring green eyes fixed on her.

"This is my good friend Galmak," the tauren said. "He was just introducing me to this draenei." He turned a questioning look back to the hunter.

"Uh, right," Galmak said. He kicked at a dead mushroom stalk. "She's just a slave I picked up a while back in Ratchet. Her name's Hyara."

Chetvek frowned slightly. Galmak avoided his friend's eye and instead whistled to Palla, who came slinking from the other side of the path. Hyara turned away and strapped her bow back in place, trying to ignore the several sets of eyes on her.

"Amazing that you let your slave go around armed," the blood elf said.

"I trust her," Galmak answered gruffly. "She's proven her loyalty."

Chetvek cleared his throat in a deep rumble. "At any rate, this is Zarguhl." He gestured to the leather-clad orc. Hyara had never seen an orc like this one before. His skin was an earthy reddish brown, his hair a darker shade of the same color. He gave the impression somehow of being much bigger too, although side-by-side he looked barely taller than Galmak.

"I'm Pellien Longsun," the raven-haired blood elf said with a microscopic bow toward Galmak.

"What brings you out here?" Chetvek asked his friend.

"Not much in particular," Galmak replied. "Just exploring the marsh some. We- uh, I've never been here before. The Cenarion druids mentioned that they're still trying to make a clear record of a lot of the plants and animals out here and they're grateful for any observations I could bring back. How about yourself?"

Chetvek looked thoughtful for a moment. He glanced at his companions. Zarguhl shrugged and sat down against a mushroom, but Pellien glared and shook his head.

The tauren glared back. "My trust isn't good enough, mage?" he said to the blood elf. Then he addressed Galmak again. "Well, aside from running into that fen strider back there… It's probably nothing, really. There've been rumors at Zabra'jin of some strange things going on in the marsh lately. Stranger than normal, anyway. They asked us to come out here and take a look around." His eyes flickered to Hyara and back. "We're not sure, but the Alliance could be tied up in it somehow. There've been a few indications. We think some of the Lost One tribes may be involved too."

Galmak frowned. "Alliance and Lost Ones? That sounds strange for sure. There's no love lost between them on Azeroth."

The group of men walked back among the trunks to where the party's mounts were tied out of sight of the path. Hyara waited uneasily for them to return. Galmak apparently trusted the tauren, but the other two were unknown elements.

Chetvek patted his kodo and waited for Zarguhl and Pellien to move away to retrieve their mounts. "So you've taken a slave," he said quietly when the other men were out of earshot. "Galmak, I wouldn't have thought that of you. I didn't think that was your way."

"It's not," Galmak said. "I'm glad those two showed up before I said anything more they might have heard. I was going to tell you that Hyara's my wife. Not my slave."

The tauren smiled. "That sounds a good deal more like you. Then I'm happy for you, my friend."

As they rejoined Hyara on the path Galmak whispered, "I'd trust Chetvek with my life, we don't need to worry about him. He's with us." She nodded, then flashed Chetvek a quick smile. He grinned back and hauled himself up onto his kodo.

Hyara hung back so Galmak could ride next to his old friend. She found herself next to Zarguhl instead, and snuck another glance at the curious-looking orc. He caught her looking and grunted. "Never seen a Mag'har before?"

She was embarrassed. "A… I'm sorry, a what?"

He only grunted again.

The group picked their way carefully across the spongy ground. Occasionally they would cross a path or follow one for a time. Larger pools of water, some of them big as lakes, rippled in sight between the mushrooms. They seemed eerily still with only stray, wet breezes ruffling their surfaces into pebbled glass. Hyara became uneasy once she realized the direction they were heading. She calculated with a pang of disappointment that by now they would have passed Telredor, undoubtedly her city on a mushroom, and were making their way west. In all likelihood Chetvek was leading them to Zabra'jin. It looked as though her "slave plan" that Galmak so loathed would be put to the test in earnest soon.

Night was dropping around them like a cloak now, shadows slinking among the trunks and bringing the will-'o-the-wisps to flare more brightly and drift like watchful eyes. Still they continued, but now they joined with the path; the marsh was too dangerous to travel in the dark off the road. The sounds in the darkness around them began to take on a more frenzied tone, as if now was the time when most creatures came out to hunt and feed.

"Keep your eyes open," Chetvek warned. "The Feralfen Lost Ones live nearby. We're also near to a few naga colonies."

"Naga? Here?" Galmak asked sharply.

"They're sworn to the Betrayer. They followed him here from Azeroth years ago," the tauren answered grimly. "These are the things the marsh will reveal to you if you venture far. Ah friend, you came here unaware of the dangers," Chetvek sighed.

Galmak was beginning to think he was right. Yesterday he'd looked upon the marsh as a very welcome change from the demon-infested Peninsula, but now it was clear that this place held its own mélange of perils just as deadly as the searing hell to the east.

There was a sudden rumble overhead and rain began to fall in torrents. It lanced down between the mushrooms, it fell on the mushroom caps and flowed off the sides in sheets like water from a fountain. They were soon soaked and huddling under blankets and cloaks. Hyara looked down to see water churning beneath the boardwalk path, rushing to overflow the channels and saturate the ground. Poor Gink was plodding along miserably at her side sending droplets flying as he shook himself with nearly every step. Hyara peered anxiously down the path, hoping for a glimpse of torchlight or any sounds of civilization, but there was nothing to see or hear except the thundering sheets of water and the rising rapids beneath the path.

She leaned forward and shouted over the roar, "Does the path ever flood?"

Chetvek couldn't hear her; Zarguhl merely shrugged.

"I've never seen it like this," Pellien shouted from behind her. Not particularly comforting news.

Ahead a solid curtain of water blocked the road, pouring from the cap of an overhanging mushroom. Zarguhl extended one hand, and abruptly the curtain parted and sent sprays of water shooting to either side of the path. Hyara looked at him in surprise. He's a shaman?

Weak orange pinpricks of light blinked one by one through the rain. As the group approached the lights resolved into the myriad guttering torches of Zabra'jin and the mushroom-timber walls of the village emerged in the warm glow. As if finally relenting just as they were within reach of shelter, the rain slackened to a drizzle. Galmak pulled his timber wolf to a halt and motioned for the others to go by. Hyara stopped next to him.

He grimaced. "I'm going to have to take your weapons now before we get to the gates."

Hyara handed him her bow and let him unfasten her axes from her belt. "Can I keep the dagger? Can you tell it's there?" She patted her left side where she kept a tiny dagger sheathed beneath her tunic.

"Keep it. I hate this, hate leaving you defenseless."

She squeezed his hand. "Would you rather have me trying to get to Telredor or Orebor Harborage on my own tonight?" she asked gently.

When they reached the gates of Zabra'jin, Galmak was ready for the guards' challenge. Hyara kept her eyes lowered and her body slouched in the saddle as Galmak talked, trying to look dejected and blank. She thought wryly that it probably helped that she was soaked to the skin with her hair plastered around her face in a tangled mess. Gink had melted into the shadows for the night; he would stay nearby but it might raise questions to have him at her side. The guards let them through after only a cursory glance told them she was unarmed. Slaving was not as common as it used to be, but an orc with a single slave was hardly worth too much notice.

"Stick with me every second," Galmak said in a low voice as they dismounted and left their mounts with the stablemaster.

Hyara raised her eyebrows. "Uh huh. You don't really think I'd wander off on my own here." She hoisted one of his bags to her shoulder along with her own. He tried to take it but she shook her head. "You're going to have to let me do a little more work here or this isn't going to be as believable."

"Hyara… no one in their right mind is going to believe I own you so you can carry my bags and wash my clothes."

"Well, of course not; I realize that. But just assuming for one second that you did actually own me for other reasons, wouldn't it be nice if I also carried your bags and washed your clothes?"

Galmak snorted and they started toward the inn only to run into Chetvek.

"Ah, here you are," he said. "I have a small piece of bad news, I'm afraid. The inn is extremely full because of the weather. There was only one room left. On a better note, though, I managed to talk the innkeeper into letting us all share the one room if we'd like. Pellien wasn't very happy about that, but it's that or sleep in the mud."

Galmak and Hyara nodded together. A warm, dry room sounded wonderful, bed or no bed.

The inn was crowded wall to wall with travelers, villagers, and off-duty guards. People were lounging on cushions and chairs, drinking, talking, laughing about the freak storm that had soaked everyone and brought them fleeing here for shelter and camaraderie. Hyara kept her eyes downcast and followed Galmak closely, but nevertheless she could sense the eyes that turned to her, the slight hushes in conversation and laughter that followed her across the room. Her cheeks burned at a few of the snatches of comments that reached her ears. She disappeared inside the room with relief.

It was a small room, not big enough for five to fit comfortably, but perfectly adequate for a ragtag bunch of soaked and weary travelers who just wanted a dry place to spend the night. The upper halves of the walls were an open lattice of woven reeds, allowing air to circulate while the deep overhanging roof kept out the rain. Hyara peeled off her mail tunic and fanned her damp shirt away from her body, wishing she could take it off too. Galmak was doing the same, but he had the advantage of being able to strip off his shirt. She made a face at him.

"Maybe I shouldn't be so modest," she said in a low voice.

"Oooh, no, I don't think so. If it were just Chetvek I'd say go for it, but I don't know about these other two," he whispered. He got to his feet. "Let's go out to the fire."

"There's no way I'm going to sit out there with all those people looking at me. Did you hear them on the way in?"

Galmak frowned. "I tried not to. But I'm talking about the covered fire out in front of the inn. Come on, you can hide in the dark."

She sighed but got up and steeled herself to walk the gauntlet again. Chetvek followed them outside to a campfire set a short distance from the inn. There was a cover stretched over it to shelter it and anyone sitting near it from the marsh's endless misty drizzle. Somewhere the lilt of reeds wavered then swelled, joined by drums. The village was coming back to life after the rainstorm.

Hyara stood near the fire, warming her front and back by turns to allow her clothing to dry. The thin cloth leggings she'd stripped down to were just as soaked as her shirt. Uncomfortable as she was, however, the marsh had been hardest on her mail armor; she could only hope it wouldn't all be rusted through by the time they decided to leave this place. Galmak and Chetvek were talking quietly about old times and old acquaintances. Feeling a little dryer now, she sat next to her husband and held her hands out to the fire.

"Chetvek," Hyara said into a lull in their talk. "Zarguhl said he's a Mag'har. What does that mean?"

"Ah," the tauren nodded. "Yes… I'm surprised you got that much out of him. He's a very closemouthed fellow. The Mag'har are the last of the old orcs, the only remaining clan untouched by the Legion's demonic taint. Well… they're not really a clan in the traditional sense; more like an amalgamation of all the orcs who rejected the call of the Legion. They've survived all these years in Outland."

Hyara looked at Galmak. He was staring into the fire with furrowed brow. "They're what you wanted to find," she said softly and squeezed his hand.

"I had no idea," the orc finally said. "I didn't know there were any who didn't go through the Portal and managed to avoid corruption. Orcs who had no part in the blood-lust…" It made his own perceived guilt seem all the more atrocious.

"Their ways are very different," Chetvek continued. "Their brand of shamanism is remarkable. I ran into Zarguhl quite some time ago and managed to convince him to teach me some of the Mag'har practices. I would call him a friend by now, but he would likely just grunt and shrug."

"And the blood elf?" Galmak asked.

Chetvek crossed his arms. "That one I don't know so well. He's more a companion by happenstance. He's a bit aloof… he may not think very highly of me or Zarguhl, I suppose," the shaman mused.

Galmak shook his head and grinned at his friend's philosophical attitude toward the blood elf's dislike.

As if mentioning him had been a summons, Pellien appeared at the door of the inn and trudged over to join the group at the fire.

"Zarguhl is snoring again," he said with distaste. "I can't remember the last time I slept through a night without that wretched lout waking me up."

"Hmm," Chetvek said thoughtfully. "It was probably four nights ago when we didn't have to share a room at the Cenarion Refuge."

Pellien threw the oblivious tauren a nasty look and sat on a mushroom stump to Hyara's left.

"Well," the mage said. "What sort of scintillating conversation do we have out here?"

Chetvek sighed. "Pellien, if you're in a bad mood please go away."

Hyara stifled a laugh. She caught Galmak's eye and could tell he was holding back a grin.

But the blood elf gave a sigh of his own. "I apologize. Fire mages get a little out of sorts after weeks of nothing but dampness and humidity and sogginess and generally being soaked to the bone, if you know what I mean."

They sat in silence for a few moments until Hyara yawned. Galmak looked at her questioningly. She nodded and they both rose. "I think we'll be getting some sleep now," Galmak said and clapped Chetvek on the shoulder.

"You can poke Zarguhl if it gets unbearable," Chetvek said. "He'll usually shut up for a good half hour if you jab him in the ribs."

"Just a moment," Pellien said. His eyes glittered in the firelight. "Forgive me, but there's something I'm curious about. I was always under the impression that masters branded their slaves. Did you brand her, Galmak?"

The sudden tension in her husband was palpable, and Hyara willed him not to say or do anything rash. What to do… well, what else to do. She lifted the right side of her shirt, revealing a long scar that gashed down her side from her lower ribs and curved slightly inward over her abdomen.

"I wouldn't have this if it weren't for him," she said. She wouldn't have any of the rest of herself either if it weren't for Galmak, but Pellien didn't need to know that.

"Ah," the blood elf said and frowned, clearly thrown off-balance. Hyara adjusted her assessment of him slightly; he was obviously disturbed by the brutality that the scar implied, and by what it implied about how her "master" had acquired her. Hyara turned once more to leave. Poor Galmak. He looked like he wanted to be sick.

"Well… good thinking, I guess," he whispered resignedly.

"I love you," she whispered back, and he smiled.

They were halfway to the inn when a scream cut through the heavy night air. Another followed, then something buzzed past Hyara's ear and made her drop heavily to the ground. She reached out frantically to pull Galmak down but he was already sprawled next to her in the mud and searching for her hand. Over at the fire Chetvek and Pellien too were crouched low. Several more arrows whizzed overhead. There was shouting to the north beyond the village walls, more screams, and the sound of weapons clashing. Guards streamed out of the inn and sprinted from their posts elsewhere in the village, all heading to the north wall in response to shouted orders. Some of the town's adventurers were also rushing to join whatever was going on.

Galmak growled. "I should go help."

"You're not going over there without a shirt or armor or even weapons."

Chetvek had no such reservations though; the tauren leapt up and sprinted off into the darkness.

"Chetvek!" Galmak roared. He looked helplessly from his friend to his wife, then pulled Hyara up and dragged her by the hand over to where Pellien still crouched by the fire.

"Stay here, I'll be back in a minute," the orc said to Hyara, then to Pellien, "Keep her safe, don't let her out of your sight and don't let anyone give her trouble!"

"What- I-" The blood elf started to protest, but Galmak was already gone.

"You don't have weapons!" Hyara screamed in frustration. She whirled on Pellien, started to speak, but there was no time… he could follow or not. She sprinted off to the inn. Pellien jumped up cursing, but she ignored him.

The inn's common room, so crowded and lively only minutes before, was now all but deserted. Hyara entered at a dead run and practically kicked down the door to the party's tiny room. She dropped to her knees at Galmak's pack, fumbling for his axes, his bow, and whatever arrows she could grab.

"What the fuck is going on?" Zarguhl growled groggily.

"There's an attack on the village; north wall," she yelled over her shoulder as she blew back out the door- and crashed headlong into Pellien. The blood elf looked furious.

"He told you to stay there, are you in the habit of disobeying him?" he fumed.

Hyara barely heard him; she was already running into the night. Pellien threw a helpless look at Zarguhl and dashed after her again. The shaman was wide awake now and grabbing for his maces before he too bolted out the door.

Hyara peered through the darkness at the wall. "Galmak!" she shouted. Everywhere defenders where scuffling and shouting, bathed in the orange light of the village's torches, illuminated in sudden blinding flickers of spellcasts, or struggling in the shadows where the lights had been kicked over and trampled in the mud. There was a ragged hole in the log wall, not large, but a breach that some of the attackers had managed to force their way through. A troll gave a wild, ululating cry and slammed a body against the wall, driving her sword through gut and bone. The cruel, staring eyes of a Lost One met Hyara's for a heartbeat; then the troll ripped the sword out in a spray of cobalt blood and the nightmarish, desiccated parody of a thing that had once been a draenei slumped to the ground.

Where is he… Occasional arrows flew through the chinks in the log wall and she held Galmak's axes broadside in front of her body on the chance they might deflect anything coming at her. There were several tauren struggling in the writhing mass of attackers and defenders but none of them Chetvek. He wouldn't dare have gone outside. She wanted to scream in frustration at the thought; that fool man had run over here half naked and he thought he could do something heroic?

A powerful grip closed on her arm and instinctively she whirled, sending an axe slicing toward her assailant. It clanged against metal with force enough to jar her and would have sent her reeling if not for the hand still gripping her arm.

"Easy," Zarguhl said. "You shouldn't be out here." Pellien stood behind him, his hands motioning runes in the air as he wove the energy of a spell.

"The hell I shouldn't!" Hyara yanked her arm out of his grip and bolted for the gap in the wall. A Lost One melted from the shadows as she stepped through and she glimpsed a blade dripping sickly green with poison before a fireball blasted the creature to a blackened cinder that flaked and dissolved in the damp breeze.

She looked down the line to her right… and there was Chetvek's towering, long-horned bulk, roaring with rage, swinging mismatched shortswords. Hyara plunged toward him frantically, trying to catch a glimpse of Galmak somewhere nearby. There was a sudden snarl and Gink streaked out of the darkness, drawn by her agitation and danger. She lashed out at any attackers in her way, but her skill was poor in close combat and most of the Lost Ones fell to Zarguhl or Pellien. The line surged away for a moment and there Galmak was with Palla at his side, backed against the wall, a Lost One pressing in with daggers flashing. Galmak was fending the thing off with a sword, his eyes burning red with blood fury. He's terrible with swords, he should have picked up something else, Hyara thought absurdly as she raised Galmak's bow and put an arrow through the attacker's neck. Galmak caught sight of her now and the red glow died as fear flashed through his eyes, followed closely by anger.

"Get out of here!" he roared. "I thought I told you to keep her safe!" He jabbed the sword toward Pellien, who didn't spare a glance away from his casting.

She shoved the axes into his hands. "You stubborn, idiotic, pig-headed, foolish man!" Arrow after arrow flew from her bow. Out of the corner of her eye she looked him over, praying his injuries weren't serious. He had a few gashes with blood trickling down his bare back, but she couldn't see anything badly wrong. She said a prayer of thanks to the Light for one of Chetvek's nearby totems, pulsing with healing magic. Hyara's arrows flew until her meager supply ran out, then she grabbed the sword Galmak had dropped and did what she could at close quarters. The Lost Ones fought with a terrible ferocity. Where did they all come from? Hyara wondered. She didn't know the ways of the marsh, but it was obvious that an attack like this could not be a common occurrence; the village had been too slow to respond in any kind of concerted defense and the Lost Ones had breached the wall too easily. Slowly though, they were being pushed back. More defenders had broken outside the walls and now there was a distinct line of combat outside. Screams of pain died in the darkness, the clash of metal and the bursts of spells grew less frequent.

Cries began to drift outside the village and were taken up inside the walls. "They're running!" "They're going, it's over!" Hyara slumped to the ground, tail twitching with her exhaustion, and Galmak sat heavily beside her. He was breathing hard, and… Shit. There was an arrow buried deep in his thigh. She placed her hands on his leg and her Gift of the Naaru shimmered around him, doing little but at least easing some of the pain. He grunted as she lifted his leg slightly and found what she'd feared; the arrow had gone so deep that the head was protruding slightly from the back of his leg.

"At least it wasn't you," he said, and she glared at him.

"I don't know what you were thinking," she bit out. "That was the most foolish thing you've ever done."

Chetvek knelt to Galmak's other side. "Oh… oh dear. Well, we'll sort it out," the tauren nodded.

Hyara gaped. "We'll sort it out? We'll sort it out?" She couldn't remember ever being so furious. "He followed you! You were the first idiot and everybody else had to follow you!" Dammit, she was so angry she was crying. She jabbed a finger at Galmak. "I am not going to lose you now after everything to a lack of common sense!"

Zarguhl elbowed her gently aside and ripped open Galmak's pants leg. "Let's get that arrow out." Galmak knew what was going to come next and he braced himself as best he could. Hyara gripped his hand. The Mag'har seized the arrow and gave it a sharp push to drive the head out the back of Galmak's leg, pulled out a knife and cut the head off, then yanked out the shaft in one swift, fluid motion. "Best to do things fast," the brown orc said wryly. Hyara stroked her husband's face and looked into his pain-glazed eyes. He'd barely made a sound through it all. Chetvek had a cloth ready to staunch the blood now pouring freely from the wound, and Zarguhl sent waves of healing magic into Galmak's leg. Slowly the flow of blood dwindled and the hole began to knit closed. Once it was clear that his friend was no longer in danger Chetvek moved off to find others in the darkness who needed healing. Zarguhl left to join him now. Galmak started to push himself up, but Hyara put a hand on his chest. She just looked at him, her anger spent. He took her face in his hands and kissed her.

"I'm sorry," he said.

She kissed him back fiercely, nipping at his lips and darting her tongue over his fangs. "I know you are. Promise me you'll never do anything stupid again."

He laughed. "I won't promise that. But I will promise that I'll check this kind of stupid thing off my list and consider it done and accounted for."

"Good enough." She smiled and wiped her tears on a sleeve.

He examined his leg. "It's not so bad, anyway.'

"Pshh. It was bad. I know because it happened to me once during my training days. It wasn't as bad as this but it still hurt plenty."

He raised his eyebrows. "Really. You never told me that. And it didn't leave a scar either."

Hyara smiled. "They took care of it quickly. I got all sorts of abject apologies from the person who did it. He was a friend and he felt horrible. Really though, I think he and our instructor were secretly rather pleased. At that point in our training most of us could barely manage to make an arrow travel forty feet, let alone make it travel forty feet and punch into someone's leg."

Galmak narrowed his eyes. "I don't suppose this person might have been a certain someone you once told me about from your years in training."

"Umm… what?" She looked uncomfortable.

"Hah! So let me get this straight… he shot you in the leg and then you slept with him?"

"Galmak!" she said, affronted. "Don't tell me you're jealous now! It was years and years and years ago, and I told you I've never even seen him since then! It might as well not even have happened, believe me. Besides, it didn't happen in that order."

He roared with laughter. "Gods, you slept with him and then he shot you? Do I or do I not want to hear that story…"

"Well, you're not going to hear it, regardless. Because there's no story. And besides, this isn't fair. I've never asked you about any of your past… mistakes."

He grinned and kissed her.

Abruptly it occurred to her that they shouldn't have been alone right now. "Wait… Where's Pellien?"

Galmak growled. "Probably ran off, just like he did after I told him not to let you go anywhere."

"No." She shook her head. "I was the one who ran off, he tried to keep me there. Did you really think he'd be able to stop me from going after you? If he was going to run off he had plenty of opportunities, but he stuck around and backed me up with Zarguhl when I came looking for you. Maybe he went with Chetvek to help out."

"He'll turn up." Galmak grunted and stood gingerly. Hyara pulled his arm over her shoulder and helped him back inside the village wall.


Shadow Hunter Denjai was livid. Zabra'jin had lost fourteen good men and women to those vicious, snake-hexed Lost Ones that night; dozens more had been wounded. The attackers had been using poisoned blades, a fact which pinned blame firmly on the Daggerfen. Apparently the tribe was no longer content to pick off the occasional scout or courier and was now declaring all-out war on the village. Denjai glared northward into the darkness. As long as he could get backup from Swamprat Post, those Lost Ones would rue this day.

The rope bridge swayed under his feet and he turned to see an aide approaching.

"Sir…" the aide said hesitantly in Zandali, wary of the murderous gleam in his commander's eyes.

"Out with it!" Denjai snapped. He didn't have time for skittish whelps.

"We've just had a runner come in with a report from our scouts in the Hewn Bog. The Daggerfen also paid a visit to Orebor Harborage tonight."

Ah… either rumors of Alliance cooperation with the Lost Ones were incorrect, or this was a ruse engineered to make the Horde think so.

"The scouts are saying it looked like bad carnage there too, maybe even worse since they're closer to Daggerfen Village," the aide continued.

Denjai grimaced and waved the aide off, who saluted and scurried back down the bridge. The commander rubbed a tusk thoughtfully. The Daggerfen must be insane as well as deceitful and vicious if they thought it was good strategy to simultaneously anger two separate enemies. He'd wager he had a counterpart at Orebor Harborage contemplating bloody revenge right now just as he was, and Denjai would eat his left arm if the Horde and the Alliance didn't both decide to dish up some justice for those cursed monstrosities.


Where before the village had seemed lively and cheerful after the rain, gloom and exhaustion now hovered everywhere like the mist. Tired though everyone was, Zabra'jin's soldiers were restructuring watches in case of a second attack. There were also the dead and wounded to tend to. Wailing voices rose and fell in the night, a lament for those who had entered the realm of spirits. Hyara shuddered as she helped Galmak lie down on their bedroll in the inn and wished she could shake the eerie song from her head. She'd come too close to raising her own voice with the mourners tonight.

She dipped a cloth in a bowl of cool water and began cleaning the blood off Galmak's leg.

"Tell me if I hurt you," she said.

"You're not going to hurt me, it's nearly healed."

Hyara suppressed a sigh a few minutes later when Chetvek and Zarguhl came in and flopped wearily on their bedrolls. She'd hoped for a little more time alone with her husband. She wished… well. There was no use worrying about that; they'd get their chances.

"Too many dead," Chetvek shook his head. "If only it hadn't been raining… we might have seen them coming. Such a senseless attack."

Zarguhl's eyes were already drooping shut again but he mumbled something.

"What's that, friend?" Chetvek asked.

"I said, where did that little mage rat get off to?"

They all looked at each other, then at the room's single small -and empty- bed. Pellien's pack lay on the floor beside it.

"He didn't stay with you two?" Chetvek raised his shaggy eyebrows at Galmak.

"We thought he'd followed you," the orc answered.

"Come to think on it, I don't remember seeing him when we were getting the arrow out of you," Chetvek mused.

"He fought next to me the whole battle," Zarguhl yawned.

"Well… that is a bit troubling. Maybe I should go look around? I'll go ask after him some." Chetvek rose wearily and left. Zarguhl's snores began sawing holes in the floor almost immediately. Hyara lay down next to Galmak and settled into the crook of his arm with her head on his shoulder, careful not to jab him with her horns.

"He can't have been among the dead," she whispered. "Chetvek said the three of them were sent out from here together..."

"Right, so whoever is in charge would know to tell Chetvek if he'd been found dead. Don't worry about it till Chetvek's learned what he can, love. Just get some rest for now."

"Easier said than done." She eyed Zarguhl across the room. "Maybe I should try poking him?"

Galmak snorted. "I wouldn't. I'd be curious to know if Chetvek's ever actually tried that. He is still alive, after all."

Hyara hooked a leg over Galmak's uninjured leg and snuggled closer to him. She closed her eyes believing she'd never sleep with all the racket, but her mind wafted into warm and welcome darkness.


"Nothing. Nobody's seen him."

Hyara and Galmak started awake together. Zarguhl grunted and punched his pillow.

"Oh… sorry." Chetvek looked sheepish. "No one seems to know anything about a dark-haired blood elf mage wearing purplish-red robes. Of course they weren't really purplish-red by now; maybe I should have said he was very muddy."

"That goes without saying. Shut up and sleep and we'll find him in the morning." Zarguhl rolled toward the wall.

Chetvek sighed and looked at Galmak. "I'm going to fall over if I don't lie down."

"There's no good in searching in the dark while we're all half asleep. Zarguhl's right, Vek; we'll find him tomorrow if he doesn't wander in on his own."