Lana woke to a splitting headache, her jaw feeling swollen to double its size. She groaned softly, trying to touch her aching face – but found she could not.

What...?

She tried to sit up, but could not move at all. She opened her eyes, to find the sky was lightening with the first hint of dawn. And that she could not move because her hands and feet were bound tightly.

She turned her head to see Bishop sitting a few yards away, looking at her with a blank expression on his face.

That bastard!

Anger boiled up in her like a hot geyser. "You misbegotten, fly-bitten toad! Take these off immediately, you beef-witted maggot!", she snarled.

He shrugged. "Sticks and stones, Captain, sticks and stones."

As always, the word "Captain" had a not so subtle derisive undercurrent, coming from his mouth. And even though Lana could not care less about the title they had thrown at her so she would keep still and do as she was told, it served only to fuel her fury.

She gnashed her teeth and jerked in vain at her bonds. "Take these off, or I swear I will..."

He laughed. "You will what, Captain? Curse me some more? I own you could always swear with the best of them, but it still does not exactly make me quiver."

She let out a yell of helpless fury, and he laughed again.

"And now, Captain", he added, "I think you've got some explaining to do."

"Screw you!"

His lips curled in a mocking smile, his eyes glittering derisively. "I remember offering twice, but you turned me down."

"I'd rather do Grobnar!"

But with the words came an image, the image of his face above her, fire blazing in his honey coloured eyes, his body pressed against hers... The sudden, surprising pain she felt made much of her anger evaporate and left a sting in the corner of her eyes.

"Now, that's a harsh thing to say, Captain. You could hurt my feelings with that."

She had to avert her face to hide her eyes from him. "You don't have any feelings", she mumbled.

"That is not true. At the moment I feel like I'm bursting with curiosity to find out how we ended up together at Crossroad Keep, for example. And how my dear old friend Jaluth comes to be in the picture." He tried hard to make the words sound nonchalant, but Lana could detect a slight wavering in his voice.

He's afraid.

Well, no wonder.

"So?", he said. "Sing."

She shrugged as much as possible with her hands tied. "No. Not as long as I am bound."

He sneered. "I won't take off the ropes, Captain. I'm not a total retard. I know very well what you can do with your hands free. So they will stay nicely bound."

"Then I won't say anything."

"Talk!", he growled.

She glared at him. "Go hang yourself, wolf boy."

"You know", he said softly, "I'm not really above torturing people if it suits me."

She shrugged again. "Can't say I'm surprised to hear that."

His lips curled into a grin. "That was one of the things I always liked about you. You don't scare easily."

She scowled at him. "You don't scare me, wolfy."

He got up, and went on his knees next to her. There was a strange light in his eyes, but Lana could not put a name to it.

"Maybe you should be scared", he said, his fingers running slowly over her cheek. "You're at my mercy, and I'm not widely known for my soft heart."

His touch was like a ghost of the tenderness she had seen in him the last few days. She felt a stab of hurt again, a sharp feeling of loss. The sting in her eyes was back, and she closed them, so he would not see.

I swear to the gods, when this is over, I'm going to join a nunnery. I'm so done with crying over men.

But right now, she could not prevent a single tear from escaping and running down her cheek.

The motion of his fingers froze, and his hand went to her neck, gripping her hair tightly.

"What?", he said, tension in his voice. "What is it?"

She opened her eyes, her vision slightly blurred due to the tears still swimming in them. That did not keep her from throwing him a withering look.

"Piss off", she said, proud of herself for sounding steady.

He let go of her hair and sat back a bit. "I've never seen you cry", he remarked, his eyes probing hers.

"Well, enjoy the moment, because it won't come again", she snapped.

He grinned. "Shrew", he said.

"Son of a whore", she spat.

He laughed. "See, that's why I just can't hate you", he replied, "no matter how hard I try. You're the only woman I know who can give me a run for my money. In your own way, you're just as mean as I am."

"I'm nothing like you, you bastard!"

He snorted. "If believing that makes you happy."

"Do the world a favour and swallow your tongue!"

"So, what's with the tears?", he asked, sitting back a bit and observing her like she was a dog that learned an interesting new trick.

"Got something in my eye."

Bishop shook his head. "You're not exactly cooperating."

It was her time to snort. "I think that spell messed something up in your head", she said bitingly. "You knock me out and truss me up and expect me to be cooperating?"

He shrugged. "Had to."

"Like hell you had to."

Something flickered on his face. "You seriously want to tell me you would have come with me, to... her?"

She stared at him, mulling his words over. Would she?

In her mind, the last couple of days started running before her eyes.

She saw him sitting in front of her at the breakfast table after they first had met again, looking dejected. In the cage in Jaluth's disgusting play room, looking forlorn, desperate. She remembered the look on his face when he told her he might love her. The feel of his body against hers. How he had held her, comforted her. And last, the way his face had lit up when she told him they were friends.

Then she looked at the man sitting in front of her, regarding her with a cold, calculating stare out of his wolf eyes. He looked identical, and so different at the same time.

Would she have gone with him, had he not chosen the hard way to convince her?

Hells, yes. I would have gone with him, if I could but believe there might be something left of the man I knew. Some way to bring him back.

Loud she said: "Not even in your dreams, wolf boy."

He laughed, bitterly. "Dreams? Nightmares, more like. Do you think I want to go back?"

He got up and started pacing in front of her, his hands running through his hair.

"Do you honestly believe I would go back, if I thought I had the slightest choice? Back to that bitch? She was the one person I really never wanted to meet again in my life. You don't know... you have no idea..." He swallowed and stopped, breathing hard, still pacing.

Oh, but I do.

He turned, facing her, a fierce light in his eyes. "But somehow, she got her claws into me again.", he continued. "And there's nothing for me to do but do as she said, and go back. And to bring you with me. And believe me, bring you I will. Because I have to. But also because I really want to know how I ended up in her pretty web again, after I took so much trouble to escape it years ago."

His hands clenched to tight his knuckles turned white. "You're not telling. Fine, I don't care. I'll find out when we arrive. She will not be able to resist, she will gloat and spill it all. But this time..." his voice went low and vibrated with hatred, "...this time, I will find a way to get rid of her. I will kill her. I swear I will. I will not be her toy again. No fucking way." He kicked at a pebble at his feet, viciously, and sent it flying into the night.

Lana remembered how helpless they both had been, how easily the harlot had defeated them. The thought still made her stomach turn sour.

And she felt the desperation under his show of bravado.

He knows he stands no chance.

She wanted to be angry with him. She wanted to hate him. Where was her fury when she needed it?

She couldn't be angry. The only thing she felt for him was pity. And regret. And... no. Nothing else.

Stupid, Lana, stupid. He's going to feed you to the monster, and you pity him.

But she could not help it. She had seen what the bitch would do to him. And he had to walk back into her claws, knowing what was expecting him. Knowing that this time, Jaluth would make it hard for him to escape again. If not impossible.

Lana shuddered. The thought would drive her crazy.

Don't pity him so much. Remember, he will drag you into the hussy's clutches as well. Without a second thought.

She swallowed. That was right. Bishop was not the only one who would be at Jaluth's mercy. And this time, chances were she would not remain as unscathed as last time.

Who knows what kind of plans she has with me?

The first traces of fear made themselves felt.

I have to get away. Have to run, somehow!

Very clever. And how are you going to do that, with the second best tracker of the Sword Coast on your heels? Apart from the little problem that you are bound into one neat parcel?

Even if she managed to get free, to get away, he would have no trouble finding her again. She was not forest girl, as she had told him what seemed a lifetime ago. She was not good at finding her way in the wilderness, let alone surviving there. The little matter of finding food, water, shelter, and avoiding the more unpleasant denizens of the woods might be a little hard for her to handle on her own.

And, even if she managed to find her way around, to survive... he would always catch her and drag her back. She would leave a track as visible as that of an ox for him.

So, how to do it without leaving a trail...? Fly?

No, something much better!

The thought struck her suddenly, and she shifted cautiously to feel if the leather bag he had made for her was still in place.

It was.

Of course! If he did not remember the last days, he did not remember the bag! And it seemed like he had not bothered to check under her clothes, even if he had removed all of her other equipment.

So, the only question remaining was: How was she going to get her hands free, to get to the Teleport scroll and use it?