Chantal ran through the dark ruins until her breath came short. She slowed down, panting, and looked around. She had no idea where she was, had not paid any attention to where she was running. It did not matter, as long as she got away from Casavir's accusing stare... and from Bishop.

She sat down on some piece of rubble, still panting heavily.

How can I ever show my face again?

She really would have preferred a horde of undead stumbling in on them. At least they would only have killed them.

The look on Casavir's face...

He had looked so angry. So disappointed. Gods, she felt like she had let him down, completely. And maybe she had. Repeating her old mistake... it was beyond stupid. And even if Casavir had Neeshka now, she knew that it still stung that she had chosen Bishop over him, no matter the outcome. And that she still fell for the ranger, after all he had done – it was like a slap in Casavir's face.

Will he ever forgive me?

She sighed, running her hands through her hair in a tired gesture. Of course he would. It was just who he was, condoning everyone's failures but his own. The thought really did not help. In fact, it made her feel even worse.

I really don't deserve a friend like him.

Well, she could not change what happened, could only see that it did not happen again. And there would be a time to apologise to Casavir, a time to wallow it guilt, but only after they were out of here again and had Neeshka safe. Until then, she would have to pull herself together. And get back to their little camp.

And spend a whole day in the company of Casavir and Bishop, without anything to do to distract them from their... differences.

Wonderful.

Oh yes, it was going to be a blast. But it could not be helped. It was her own fault for letting her guard down.

She just hoped they had not killed each other by now. Casavir sure had looked ready to kill, and Bishop... well, he always was, wasn't he? That was kind of the problem. She had to get back, to prevent any fatalities.

She sighed. So, where was she?

You are lost in the ruins.

Great. Really great. Just famous. Especially with all the undead walking around in here, and she did not even have a weapon. Well, apart from the dagger in her boot, but that was not going to save her if she ran into more than one of the amiable natives of this charming settlement. What had she been thinking, running into the darkness like that? Oh yes, she had not been thinking at all. Even before she ran. That was what had started the problem in the first place.

Ok, concentrate. Go back the way you came.

Bestest idea ever. At least up to the next junction. Then she was fairly sure she had come from the right. And then... left? Straight? Right again?

She had no idea.

xxx

When Bishop arrived at his hideout, the paladin was already there, sitting outside, staring up into the night sky. Bishop just ignored him, went inside and threw himself onto the cot he had placed there so long ago. A lifetime ago, it now seemed. He lay, staring at the ceiling, turning the events of the night in his head over and over again.

His mood surely had suffered some dizzying ups and downs. More downs then ups, if he was honest. Well, that was to be expected, the company he was travelling in. But this was the worst down he had so far.

He closed his eyes. Best to sleep it away. As a bonus, time would pass much faster that way.

But his brain just would not stop working. He opened his eyes again.

Where is she?

I don't care.

She should have been here already.

I don't care!

He turned on his other side resolutely. Stared at the wall. Turned on his back. Closed his eyes. Opened them again. Cursed. Sat up, groaning.

Pathetic.

Swearing under his breath, he got up from the cot and started donning his leathers. Then he headed out into the night without deigning the paladin with a glance.

He went back to the small opening between the two buildings where they... had let the undead pass, and crouched down to examine the ground. The good thing was, nothing was left of the original pavement, the floor consisted of dirt and weeds. The bad things were, there had been a group of undead through recently. And it was too damn dark to see clearly.

But he thought he could make out her tracks. She had been running at full speed, so her footsteps were impressed deeper and the ground and weeds compressed to the back from her weight and momentum. Now that he had singled them out, her tracks were not that hard to follow. He kept his eyes on the ground, his ears concentrated on the surrounding sounds. He would have to rely on his hearing if something was coming for him, because his eyes had to stay trained on the tracks. He did not want to lose her trail.

xxx

Chantal got up and started back in the direction she had come from. She had to admit she was completely lost. These ruins were like a maze. If she found the others again, it would be pure coincidence. She could have kicked herself for running away in this childish fashion.

Well, no need for panic. These ruins could not be that big. So if she kept going, carefully avoiding any inhabitants, sooner or later she would come to a familiar spot. And then she could find back to he hideout.

Cautiously, she made her way through the dark alleyways, intently watching out for any movement. Then a dark figure stepped out of the shadows ahead. Alarmed, she reached into her boot for the dagger. She stopped in mid-motion as she recognised the wolf eyes glinting in the darkness.

Bishop just stood there, blankly looking down at her as she stood crouched, hand at her boot. Then, without a word, he turned and walked away, into the dark alley he had stepped from.

Chantal could not deny the immense relief that was coursing through her. Being lost here had scared her more than she wanted to admit. Hurriedly, she followed Bishop before she lost sight of him in the darkness.

He was looking for me?

Don't wonder, just be grateful.

Following Bishop in silence, glad about the darkness that hid the colour in her cheeks, she thought with dread of the next few hours, stuck with Bishop and Casavir, and nothing to do but sitting around. She dreaded meeting Casavir and having to look him in the eyes. But it could not be helped. She just would have to get through it somehow.

Soon, the alleys started to look a little familiar. And then, coming round a bend, she saw Casavir, sitting in front of the hideout, his back to the wall, his arms on his knees, eyes on the ground. He must have heard them approaching, but he did not look up. Chantal swallowed. This was not going to be easy.

Before her, Bishop just entered the little room with the cot in it, without giving them as much as a glance. And Casavir still did not look up. Chantal felt so guilty, she wanted to look for a dark corner and just curl up in it. But she could not let her cowardly side get the better of her. So she squared her shoulders, went over to Casavir and crouched down beside him.

"Can we talk?", she asked softly.

He nodded. "I was worried", he said in a carefully neutral voice. "I am glad he found you."

Chantal looked at the open doorway next to the paladin. Bishop could probably hear every word they said. This would not do. Her words were for Casavir alone.

He still would not look up, so she touched his hand. He drew back.

Ouch.

It hurt, but she could not really blame him.

"Come with me? Please?", she asked.

He shrugged, got up and followed her a couple of steps away, until she thought that probably even the ranger's keen ears could not make out their words anymore. When she stopped and turned to face Casavir, he leaned against the wall, arms crossed in front of his chest, still staring at the ground.

"Won't you at least look at me while we talk?", she asked, feeling a stab of annoyance in spite of everything.

He looked up at last, and his eyes were full of anger, and sadness, and hurt. The huge wave of guilt that had been hanging over her head came crashing down on her.

"I'm sorry", she whispered.

He ran his hand over his eyes tiredly. "How? How could you do it? I don't understand. I don't want to understand."

"I don't know", she said, so low even he could probably barely hear her. "It just... happened. I don't understand myself."

"He is a traitorous, murderous, cold-blooded bastard! How could you let him touch you? How could you stand his touch, let alone... And after all he has done to you!" His voice rose with every sentence.

"I know. I know!", she said, feeling tears rising into her eyes. "I'm sorry."

He held up his hands in a warding gesture. "Let's just not talk about this anymore. I don't want to hear it. Just tell me what you found out about Neeshka, please."

She swallowed her tears, trying to gain some composure. "Right. Fine. Well, I've got some good news."

The anger in his eyes was instantly replaced by hope, making them shine like sapphire stars.

"She's is still alive.", she said.

Casavir leaned back against the wall, closing his eyes, letting out a trembling breath.

"Thank the gods for that", he whispered.

"They will execute her in two days."

His eyes shot open. "What?

"Wait, I'm not finished yet. Bishop..." she swallowed. It was difficult to say that name around Casavir. "His contact thinks he can get her out. They will bring her here tomorrow night."

Casavir let himself sink down the wall and covered his face with his hands. His shoulders were shaking. Was he crying? Chantal had never seen him cry. He always was a pillar of strength.

She sat down beside him, wanting to hug him, but she knew he still did not want her to touch him. It made her feel dirty.

What you did with Bishop makes you feel dirty. Casavir has nothing to do with it.

After some moments, Casavir looked up, and she could indeed see tears on his face. "I was sure I would never see her again", he said, his voice quivering. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me", she said, quietly. "I did not do this. Without Bishop's help, we would never have made it this far. We owe him, if we like it or not."

His face hardened. "I believe that when I have Neeshka safely in my arms again. But even then, I will never trust him. If he really did help us, it is because it suited him." With that, he stood and went back to the building, sitting down in his old spot.

Chantal closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. Then she looked up into the night sky, already not as dark as it had been. Morning was approaching, and she suddenly felt how tired she was. Best to try and catch some hours of sleep. They would have to stay in this place until tomorrow evening anyway. Sleeping was as good a way to pass the time as any. Better maybe, because you did not have to think while you slept.

So she followed Casavir back to the building and entered. For a moment, her eyes fell on the still form on the cot.

I can't stay in here, with him. I just can't.

So she grabbed her backpack and her bedroll and went outside again, rolling out her blankets next to the wall. She lay down and soon fell into a fitful, restless sleep.