Rune set down her bag, keeping her eyes averted from where Vanir laid against the door. After his efforts in smashing it had proved futile, he had settled to the ground, staring blankly into the space beyond. His cheeks were still wet, but now no tears came.

Bracken looked at him in confusion, but said nothing.

It's my fault, Rune thought bitterly. I forgot her.

Tawnyclaw screeched. Hope! He cried. Fault not!

What do you know? Rune bit, You're a bird. It's my fault.

Eragon came up behind her and slipped his hands around her waist silently. He pressed his lips to her ear.

"Whatever Vanir says to you," he said in a voice quieter than a whisper, "He's just angry. It isn't your fault."

She shivered and pulled away from him, setting Freoh on the bed next to her bag.

"I'm worried about Freoh," she said.

Bracken moved to her side and looked at Freoh. The Shade boy's crimson eyes didn't follow him. They looked glazed.

Bracken waved a hand in front of his face. "Has he been sick?"

"No…" Rune murmured. "Well, I don't know. He never laughs anymore."

"What have you been feeding him?"

Rune played with Freoh's feet, trying to make him laugh, before she responded. "Hane gave me goat's milk for him. It was all I could think of."

"Why don't you breast feed him?" Bracken asked.

Rune blinked at him, frowning. "I'm not his mother," she said. "She died."

Bracken sat down on the bed next to Freoh. "You'll have to find a wet nurse for him then," he said. "Because goat's milk isn't good for him, and you can't very well feed him yourself."

"Where am I supposed to get a wet nurse?" asked Rune. "I don't know anyone."

Bracken frowned thoughtfully, before getting up and beginning to pace.

"I'll inquire about it," he said, facing the others.

Súndavar plunked himself down on a cot, stretching out and yawning. Tawnyclaw glared hatefully at him.

Bad blood.

Súndavar stuck his tongue out at the bird, before rolling over.

Rune brought Freoh into her lap. He blinked at her blankly, as if he didn't recognize her. A single, glistening tear slipped down Rune's cheek.

"It's your fault, you know."

Rune looked at Vanir. The elf laid against the door, still staring into nothingness, a lost look on his face. His skin looked pale as he slumped there. Rune handed Freoh to Bracken and moved to Vanir's side.

She touched his hand. "I'm sorry," she said, her heart hurting in her chest. He met her eyes, but there was no spark of life in them.

"We're going to get her back," he stated simply, turning away. He let Rune hold his hand without protesting. She leaned against him, tucking his hair away from his face.

"Of course."

He looked at his hands, clenching them into fists. Rune grimaced as his grip tightened on her hand painfully, but didn't complain.

"Her blood it on your hands, Rune," he said softly. "If she dies, it will be your fault."

Rune nodded. "I know," she said. She kissed his cheek, softly, gently. "We'll get her back, Vanir. I promise."

oooooooooooooooooooooooo

Everett cracked his knuckles, glancing to the others in the warm, candlelit room.

"He should be back by now," one of them whispered. "He was just going to the market."

"What if the Ra'zac got him?"

"If the Ra'zac got him, he's not coming back."

"Shut up!" Everett cried. "The Ra'zac didn't get him! He's just late, that's all. He's always late."

But he wasn't. He was always on time.

The others muttered nervously, but none complained.

"What if he got stopped by Tabor?" asked one.

"Then he's dead."

"At least he wasn't caught by the Ra'zac," one murmured hopefully.

Everett scowled. "Dead is dead, no matter how you go," he snapped. "Now quick talking about what could have gone wrong. We're safe here, and he's coming back. He always comes back."

"There's a first time for everything."

"In this case, a first and a last," Everett said tightly, trying not to lose his temper. "If he doesn't come back, we know what to do. We've prepared for this." He glanced at them. "Besides, he's going to come back."

Finally, they settled into silence. Everett gave an internal sigh of relief. Despite his heavy cloak, he shivered.

He should be back by now…

Then he heard it. It was quiet, if he hadn't have been listening for it, he would have missed it in the nervous rustling of cloaks. A single short knock on the door, then two long ones. Immediately the door opened and a figure in an cloak identical to Everett's swooped in, followed by a girl in chains.

"Robin!" Everett whisper-yelled at the man.

The man smiled at him, shaking his hood off. Intense blue eyes, a handsome if a bit rugged face, and cocky grin stared back at Everett. The young man moved across the room to embrace the older one.

Robin hugged him back like a father to his son. "Miss me, kids?"

A mixture of happy affirmative bombarded him.

"You were late," Everett said. It wasn't a scold, but his boyish face searched Robin's eyes for the answers to his questions.

Robin pushed the young woman in chains forward. "Meet Cael's daughter. Found her at the slave market."

"Cael's daughter?"

Robin nodded. "Pleasant enough surprise, isn't it, kids? Although she went and broke her wrist."

Shay frowned. "How do you know my father?"

Robin was silent. So were the others. Finally, Robin turned to Everett. "Where's Tamara?"

"She left this morning," Everett said. "Hasn't come back yet."

"That girl is going to get herself killed one of these days," Robin sighed. "She aught to be more careful."

"Tell her that," Everett snorted. "She doesn't listen to me."

"She doesn't trust you," Robin laughed, shedding his heavy cloak to reveal a simple tunic and breeches. His boots were worn and well-patched, but in fine, working condition. He looked at Shay, undoing her chains.

"Everett, tend to her wrist, will you? She's gone and broken it." He turned to the room's other inhabitants. "Get ready for bed, all of you. We'll need rest for tomorrow."

Shay had no idea what was happening tomorrow, so she followed Everett into the next room. He motioned for her to sit on the table, before grabbing some things from a cupboard and sitting next to her.

Shay looked around at the shabby house. It was bigger than most, but it was obvious it was still rather dingy. Everett tightened something around her wrist and she jerked away. "Ouch!"

He blinked at her. "Stop moving," he ordered. "I need to fix this."

"It hurts," Shay said, less because it did than because she wanted to make it hard for him.

"Try to distract yourself," he muttered.

"How?"

"Ask me questions. Talk to yourself. Sing a song. I don't care."

She sniffed. "Fine. Where am I?"

"You're in Dras Leona."

"That's not what a mean," she groaned. "What is this place? This house?"

"Can't tell," he said. "Robin's orders."

"Who is Robin?"

"Can't tell that either."

Shay clenched her fists, jerking the bandage away from him. "If you want me to ask questions, you should answer them," she snapped.

He shrugged. "You're asking the wrong questions."

"Alright…then who are you?"

"I'm Everett."

"Do you have a last name?"

He looked at her. "Yes."

"What is it?"

"Can't say."

She let out a little scream of annoyance. "Look, I don't know what's going on here, but you aren't cooperating. If—"

"If what?" he asked. "You're a slave. Robin bought you to keep you from being sold off as a bed slave, mostly because of Cael. You're the one who isn't cooperating."

She snorted angrily. "Fine. How does Robin know my father? And if you can't say, then just be quiet, because your saying 'can't tell' is grinding on my nerves."

He said nothing.

"Okay. I get it. What about all the others, then? Why are they here in this house?"

Everett tightened her bandage. "Because they don't have anywhere else to go."

"Why?"

"They just don't," he said. He met her eyes. "Listen. I don't know you. I don't trust you. When you earn my trust and Robin's trust, I'll tell you what's going on here. Until then, you'll just have to play along because I can't say anything."

Shay shrugged. "Fine. But as soon as I can, I'm out of here. I have to find Vanir."

"Vanir is an elf name."

"Vanir is an elf."

Everett's eyes flickered with curiousity. "Eh? So what is he to you?"

"He's my lover."

"Ah," Everett shrugged. "Well, I'm all for you leaving. But you can't, not until Robin says so. So we'd better fix you up a bed or something. You can sleep in the bedroom with the girls, or in the barn with me and the men."

"Why would I even consider sleeping with a bunch of men who I don't know?"

Everett actually looked shocked. "No one would bother you," he said quickly. "I wouldn't think about that sort of thing, and neither would the others. Never. Robin would personally quarter anyone who so much as laid a finger on you in ill will. He holds women in high esteem."

"Does he? And what about the others? Would they be good because Robin tells them too, or because they want to?"

"We're respectful of boundaries," he said. "Women aren't things to be played with. They can be strong and willful and often do a job better than men. We understand that. You'll be safe here, at least from those who wish to violate you. We're not like the slavers, you know. You'll be regarded as an equal."

"But I'm a slave."

"Only in the fact that you'll have to help with the work until Robin lets you leave," Everett said. "But you'll get no more work than any of us. We all work."

Shay frowned, narrowing her eyes. "What's the catch?"

"About what?"

"Sleeping in the barn? If you're so wonderful, why don't all the girls sleep there?"

Everett laughed for the first time since Shay had met him. "There's more room, that's for sure," he said. "But apparently most of us snore."

ooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Matrix folded her wings neatly. Thy Riders cry for thee, she said. We must fly.

Fly where?

Matrix smiled. To where it began, of course, she said. We fly to Kuthian.