Author Note: Sorry it took so long to update. I've been kicking myself, but we just moved into a new condo, and work post-holidays is hell, and blah blah blah, you know how it goes. At least the good news is that I've been writing a tiny bit every chance I get (I actually zoned out during a meeting at work yesterday and got busted), and the little bit seems to have accumulated into a lot. This chapter's a bit short, but the next one makes up for it. I have problems determining where they should begin and end. Most of the trouble comes from trying to find time to sit down and tweak everything, so pardon any errors. I'll prolly come back to edit later. Enjoy!

After Malek finished cleaning the front of himself post-beer spluttering, he forcibly pulled Spencer off by the foot of the stairs to have a private chat with him.

"You're married?" he hissed.

"Technically, yes."

"How come you didn't say anything?" Malek jerked his thumb back towards Constantina. "Why do you think I brought her here with us? She's sweet on you. I thought I'd be doing you a favor."

Spencer blinked, a little surprised. "Thanks…but no thanks."

Malek, sounding like a pubescent juvenile deprived of gossip, said: "How could you not tell me about this?"

The rogue scowled. "Because," he snapped. "I don't particularly enjoy discussing the woman that murdered me and my son." He thumbed the blade of the dagger at his side. The mouth of his orc friend dropped open, and for once, he was at a loss for words.

"I want you to help me find her, Malek."

"Yes, yes…you know I'm with you. I can see how you'd want to pay her what she's owed. Do you have any idea where to start?"

"I think so," Spencer nodded thoughtfully. "She still has friends, I'm sure."

Malek slapped him on the back. "Then what are we waiting for?"

Constantina appeared in the stairwell. "What are you boys doing together here in the dark?" she asked mirthfully. The two glowing orbs of Spencer's eyes turned towards her. They narrowed in disapproval.

"We were just leaving," Malek said. "It seems we have a new mission."

Spencer stepped through the pub door into the muddy slush outside, his long leather coat curling around his legs in the wind. It was beginning to snow; he tilted his head back to squint into the grey, overcast sky. The breeze caught his collar as he turned back to look at his comrade...he could see the small, wan form of the warlock following Malek out.

"I'm sorry, but you can't come," he said to her callously.

Constantina stopped indignantly in her tracks. "Why not?"

"Because you're not experienced enough."

Malek gave her a contrite pat on the shoulder. "Go out there and get some more kills under your belt. Then you'll be ready."

She scornfully turned on her heel and marched back into the tavern. Malek shrugged at Spencer.

"You know," he mused. "She really could have helped us out. She's pretty skillful…as far as 'locks go."

"No," Spencer countered with an irately curled lip. He summoned his horse and took hold of the dragonhide saddle. "I don't need any distractions."

With that, he pulled himself up onto the steed and spurred the creature through the town gates into the white blanketed forest of Winterspring.