Disclaimer: If I laid claim to any of Tamora Pierce's work, I would undoubtedly ruin it totally and completely. It's fine how it is, thanks very much.

A/N: Yes, yes, long time no update. I'm dreadfully sorry, but I've been a tad stressed out of late and lacking inspiration to boot. That's my excuse. Take it or leave it.

I want to thank all of you for reviewing. Really. You're amazing. I never expected this story to be so successful. Doyou realize that this almost has more reviews than my other story, which has 13 freaking chapters? So thanks for staying loyal, and I love you all.

Chapter 6

It was very late in the evening by the time that Daine gathered up the courage to return to the inn. Despite the many small, warm bodies that had so eagerly offered their support, her illness was making a comeback. Hers was a miserable arrival; she was cold, weak with sickness, and did not feel ready to face Numair in the slightest.

In the end, the wildmage chose to sleep with her trusty steed rather than the man waiting for her inside. She knew that she should at least confront him with what she had seen, but was to afraid to even do that. It was impossible for her to summon up anger at his betrayal, although she wished she could; the only thing she felt was a deep penetrating sorrow. She felt that the moment she set eyes on him she would shatter into a thousand tiny pieces. This was too much on top of everything else that had happened in the past few days, this which would have been too much by itself.

And so Daine curled up in a pile of straw with the warm comfort of her pony, the only thing that had remained constant through all the tragedy and joy in her life, at her back.

Morning came all too soon. Daine woke to the growling of her stomach and the realization that all she had eaten the night previous was an old apple filched from the stable's supplies that had undoubtedly been meant for the ponies. It felt wrong for her to want something to eat, now that Numair no longer cared for her, but Cloud and the other stabled animals were far too insistent for her to resist their pleas. With some great reluctance she slipped into the kitchen from the back door she had escaped from…was it really just yesterday? It was amazing how drastically her universe could change in such a short time.

She successfully managed to obtain a roll from the curious Amily, but quickly retreated to the common room in the face of concerned questions that she was unable to answer for fear of breaking down in tears once more. After reaching the common room, however, she became doubtful of whether the situation she had left would be the worse.

There, before the fire in one of the chairs that they had sat talking in the previous day, sat Numair. Daine's breath caught in her throat, not only because of the sickness that was beginning to take hold again. The chair's back was to her, but from what she could see the man was asleep. Maybe, she thought, she could get by him unnoticed and have some time to compose herself before coming face to face with him.

The young woman had crept across the empty room silently and had just reached out to open the door when a voice came from behind her.

"If I didn't know you better, I'd say you were trying to avoid me."

Daine froze in place, unable to move one way or the other despite her mind screaming at her to flee, to confront him, to do something other than just stand there.

"Magelet?" he sounded confused and worried now, voice lacking the trace of good humor his previous statement had borne. She sensed more than heard him get up and start his way across the room. "Is something wrong?"

She couldn't do it anymore. No matter how long she wanted to delay this moment, she couldn't keep what she had seen bottled up anymore. Finally came a trace of that anger she had been longing for. How could he just go on as though everything was just as it had been? How long had he pretending? How many other women had come before Mandaly?

Daine turned to face the lanky man, chin tilted up in determination. "Fine question that is! Seems to me you should be asking yourself what you did to deserve being avoided." She fought back the cough building in her chest, resolved not to show any weakness.

"What are you—" She had to notice how authentic his confusion appeared; he truly was a Player at heart.

"Did you think I wouldn't find out, Numair? Did you truly think you could keep it from me?" She blinked angrily to keep from tearing up and suppressed another cough, despite the building pressure in her chest and how difficult it was to breathe. She had to stand firm, or she would collapse entirely.

Enlightenment seemed to dawn on the mage, and he reached out to place a hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry. I didn't think that it would upset you this much, or I never would have done it."

Daine could not believe what she had just heard. Absolutely could not. The Numair she loved would never, ever be this heartless. She couldn't stop the tears this time as she filled with both rage and the deepest, bitterest sadness. "You didn't think it would upset me?" she demanded, volume climbing hoarsely, painfully. "How—" Her voice had reached its limit, and she fell to her knees in a violent coughing fit made no easier by the sobs that were also racking her body.

The young woman struggled to get a breath in, but each intake of oxygen seemed only to make her feel as though she was drownnig. All she could do was choke and cough and cry and shut her eyes tight, tight against the world and her tears and seeing him—and then he was there and he had one arm around her, and it was steadying her, and the other was doing…something, something that was helping her breathe and now there was air and she wasn't drowning after all and she was so cold and his body was so warm and comforting and why had she been crying?

Daine took a few shallow breaths, reveling in the ability to breath and the rightness of his heart beating beneath her ear, allowing herself to forget that he no longer loved her. For now, wasn't it enough that he was holding her? Maybe it had all been something she had imagined, and if not, couldn't she just pretend it was? But she knew that she couldn't, any more than she could pull herself out of his arms. She cursed her helplessness, her weakness, and the fact that she now seemed to be crying again, albeit silently.

"I think, perhaps, that we should talk," Numair said quietly, but with no room for disagreement. Daine herself was in no position to argue as he somehow managed to provide and put on a fur-lined cloak for each of them, managing all this without his former student leaving his arms. She was in a dreamlike state partially due to physical weakness and partly because of her state of emotional shock. She registered a blast of cold as the man carried her outside but took no note of their surroundings, simply taking comfort in his warmth and his motion.

She came to herself as the familiar rocking of her body stopped, and a voice a distant part of her mind recognized as Numair stated "I believe we shall have some privacy here."

Daine coughed a little and sat up, blinking blearily and trying to remember what was going on. Even as she began to recall the events of the past day and put them together in her mind, the mage set her gently on a cold surface (she soon realized it was a rock) and took a seat on the boulder across from her. They were still fairly close to the village of Snowsdale, but far enough into the wilds surrounding it that they need not worry about being overheard unintentionally, as the nearest dwelling was about seventy-five yards away. Daine realized that this was probably the best place they could have gone if privacy was indeed their aim.

"Now, why don't you tell me what exactly it is that has you so upset," Numair suggested soothingly, his concerned eyes never leaving her face. The wildmage supposed that it was probably part of his plan to catch her while she was still off-guard, but she was past the point of caring anymore. Every part of her hurt, both body and soul, and all she wanted was for the hurting to go away.

"If you—" She started, but had to stop for another brief coughing fit. Numair half rose to his feet, but she waved him off. "I'm all right. Really." She closed her eyes and took a few calming breaths, then tried again.

"If you wanted other women, you could have told me," she began, refusing to look at him for fear of losing control. "I'd have understood. It was silly to think you could be happy to be with a baby like me, anyway." She felt the tears start welling up again, as she'd known they would, but refused to let herself get choked up. Another cough. "But you shouldn't have hid it from me, Numair." She cast a brief but desperate glance at his surprised face, then looked away again. "You shouldn't have kept pretending. If you were afraid of hurting me…well, it hurt a lot more this way. It—"

"Daine," she heard his voice say, "I never—"

"I saw you with Mandaly," she interrupted in return, now feeling brave and angry enough to risk looking at him. This something that he couldn't deny; her eyes dared him to try it, to try saying that he hadn't been with her, that his voice hadn't sounded that way, that his eyes hadn't looked that way. "You sounded exactly how you used to, back before we were together, when you wanted to charm yourself into a woman's heart—or a woman's bed, I could never decide which."

"Daine, will you listen to me?" Numair all but yelled, on the verge of anger himself. "I have never even dreamed of being disloyal to you. Not once! How could I possibly want anyone else?"

"I didn't imagine what I saw," she maintained, wanting more than anything to believe him but unable to allow herself to be taken in so quickly.

"I'm not saying you did, but what you saw wasn't what you thought it was!" The black-robe mage exclaimed. "I was being polite! I wouldn't have been there at all if I'd had that choice, but unless I wanted to give those people reason to dislike us even more, I couldn't!"

"Funny, Mandaly seemed to like you just fine," Daine persisted, hardly allowing herself to hope.

"How can you—"

"Really? Could you tell?" Came a pleasant feminine voice from behind them. As one the pair turned to find themselves faced with none other than the topic of their discussion—and behind her, a mob of armed, dangerous-looking villagers.

"All we want's the chit," said one man, stepping forward. "Give us her without a fuss and we won't hurt nobody else."