Chantal sat by the fire, her thoughts wandering back the last couple of hours.

They had descended the endless, winding staircase in silence, Bishop in the lead, walking quickly, nearly running down the stairs, as if he could not wait to get away from them. She followed as closely as possible. Neeshka and Casavir, still engrossed in their own world, talking quietly, fell a bit behind.

At the bottom of the stairs, the ranger had stopped and turned back. As she caught up with him, she could see the anger still in his eyes, as he looked at her with resentment. She wondered what hat caused his anger this time, but asking him would only get her a scathing remark. Well, he could keep his little secrets.

She had to admit though that against all probabilities, he had helped them to rescue Neeshka. Why had he done it? He really was a mystery to her. And as much as what she was going to say next would hurt her pride, he deserved it.

So she walked up to him, stopped and looked into his angry eyes, not speaking for a moment, trying to find the right words.

"What?", he snapped. "Some complaint, Captain? Am I not licking your boot eagerly enough? Well, let me tell you..."

"Bishop", she interrupted softly. And wonders over wonders, he paused. "Thank you", she added, making use of the short silence.

"What?", he said again, but the tone of his voice was incredulous, not angry anymore. "What did you say?"

"I admit I did not trust you. I still don't. But you really have helped us with Neeshka. We could not have done it without you. I do not understand why you did it, but I thank you for it."

She saw the anger dissipate, to be replaced by an expression she could not identify. Was that... uncertainty? Indecision? And maybe a hint of... fear? Before she could be sure, the impassive mask hid his emotions again, and he sneered and turned away.

"Yes, that'll buy me much", he said, derisively.

Refusing to let him rile her, she put a hand on his arm. "Wait", she said. He turned to her again, eyebrow cocked, lips curled.

She took the bundle with his scimitars from her belt, where she had carried them all the time, and handed it to him. "I think you earned these", she said.

He stared at her, the mocking expression gone from his face, a number of emotions warring on it, chasing each other so quickly she could not identify a single one. Slowly, he reached out and took the swords from her hand.

She took his bow from her back. "And that, too.", she said. He looked down at his beloved bow, taking it with his other hand, softly caressing the wood. He looked up at her again, and it seemed that he wanted to say something, but then he just turned away abruptly and stared out of the doorway, into the greenish glow of the city of the dead.

Behind her, Neeshka and Casavir reached the end of the stairs. Casavir immediately noticed the bow in Bishop's hand, disbelieve showing on his face.

"You handed him his weapons?", his voice boomed, incredulous.

"He's armed now?"; Neeshka piped, worried.

"How can you hand him his weapons?"

"I say we kill him now! I don't want him armed while he is near me. Or you. Or anyone!"

Bishop looked over his shoulder at Chantal, a smile lifting the corners of his mouth. "Perhaps you best use that spell of yours again", he said, softly.

Thinking of that smile still made Chantal's heart skip a beat, just as it had done then. It was a quiet smile. An understanding smile. Intimate, somehow. There had been no mockery in his voice, nothing of his usual sarcasm. It was a smile that was only for her. As if they shared some joke only they could understand.

And she just had to smile back.

He made the barest of motions, as if turning to her, but then he just looked away again, into the glow ahead.

"We better get going, before we attract attention", he said, his voice neutral.

So she cast her spell, cutting off the still ongoing protests from the other two, who glared daggers at her. She just shrugged, refusing to feel guilty, and they started their careful way through the city. As last time, under the silence of Chantal's spell, they slipped through unnoticed. The tunnels to the surface were much easier this time, too, with Bishop armed, and Neeshka making do with whatever weapons they could spare, because her equipment had had to stay behind with her captors.

Casavir had not argued anymore about Bishop's weapons, but had stayed at her side like a watchdog all the time. Neeshka had continued bickering until Chantal had told her to shut up in no uncertain terms. Luckily, the tiefling had stopped complaining before Bishop lost his temper again.

When at last they had climbed up the well, without accidents and with the help of the rope this time, Chantal could hardly believe that they really had made it. Still following Bishop's lead, they had walked a couple of hours until the rest of the daylight had faded. Exhausted, after a night and a day of marching, they had made camp.

And now she was sitting by the fire, first watch, staring into the flames, her mind in a turmoil.

What do I do?

Her eyes sought the still form of the sleeping ranger.

I still can't believe he did not turn on us.

But he had not. He had truly helped them. He had saved Neeshka's life. And Casavir's and hers probably as well, since she had to admit that, left to their own resources, they would very likely have been caught as well. Or simply killed in a fight. She owed him.

Now, does that make up for what he did?

Probably not. His betrayal, his murder of her, still weighted heavily against that one good deed. But it made it so much harder to deal with him. She could not simply paint him black anymore. That complicated things to no end. She sighed. Having him as a black villain had been so much easier.

Now, she could not turn him over to justice. It seemed wrong, even if he deserved to pay for his deeds, to thank him for risking his life by letting him hang. She just could not do it.

She would send him away. As soon as they were far enough from Luskan. Send him away, out of her life, hopefully for good this time. She just hoped he would leave. She still did not know why he had come back in the first place.

She heard movement and turned, alarmed, but it was only Neeshka, crawling out of her sleeping roll besides Casavir's. Silently, she approached Chantal and sat down next to her.

Chantal smiled at the tiefling, and Neeshka reached out and took her hand. "Thanks," she said, unusually solemn. "For coming for me. No one would ever have done that for me. I never had friends like you. So... thanks. I won't forget this."

Chantal squeezed Neeshka's hand. "Don't say that. You would have done the same for me."

Neeshka considered for a moment, then her face lit up. "Yes, I would", she said, grinning, her short grave moment over. "Wow. I'm so proud of myself!"

Chantal laughed.

Neeshka's eyes went to Bishop. "I grilled Casavir", she said. "You know he cannot withstand my interrogation techniques, so don't be mad at him."

"What did he tell you?", Chantal asked with dread.

Still watching the sleeping ranger, Neeshka said, curiosity thick in her voice: "You and him... did you really...?"

"Really what?", Chantal said, feeling her cheeks heat up. Damn Casavir! Did he have to tell Neeshka?

"You know what! Did you really..." her voice fell to a whisper, "...sleep with him?"

Oh hells!

"Well, yes", she mumbled, her eyes on the ground, cheeks flaming. "Once!"

"Wow!", Neeshka squeaked, then lowered her voice again. "And?"

"And what?"

"Was he... well, good?"

"Neeshka!"

"Sorry", the tiefling said. And after a pause: "And, was he?"

Chantal groaned. "You're not going to let this go, aren't you?"

"No", Neeshka said cheerily.

I'm going to kill Casavir for telling her. How does he know, anyway?

She knew Neeshka well enough to know she would not let go before she had her answer. The sooner Chantal told the tiefling what she wanted to know, the sooner they could drop this embarrassing topic. She sighed and resigned to her fate.

"Yes", she mumbled.

Neeshka considered that for a moment.

"How good?"

"What?"

"Well, was he that-was-nice-good, or let's-do-this-again-soon-good, or oh-yes-please-more-good, or was he oh-gods-I'm-going-to-die-good?"

"I can't believe you're asking me this!"

"No? Why not?"

"Ok, you're right. It's exactly the thing you would ask."

Neeshka grinned. "Yes, but you have not answered me yet."

Oh my. Neeshka really was not letting this go. Chantal groaned again.

"Fine. I'm-going-to-die-good.", she said, her face bright red.

"I knew it! Just look at him!", Neesha squealed triumphantly.

"What?I cant' believe you're saying this!"

"Why? I always thought he must be good. All that caged energy must be good for something."

Chantal groaned for the third time. This certainly was the most insane conversation she had had for a long time.

"I thought you hated him?"

"Well, I do! And you should, too. He murdered you, after all. But he's still so hot! Have you looked at that butt of his? Hmmmm."

"I'm not discussing Bishop's b... behind with you!"

"Why not?" Neeshka's gaze still was on the ranger. "It's really a very nice butt, so firm and well-formed... and he has the two most perfect dimples there..." Her hands modelled something curving slightly inside. "And the rest of his body is just as nice..."

"Neeshka...?", Chantal asked, menacingly. "How do you know all that?"

Neeshka's gaze reverted to Chantal at last, grinning like a cat in front of the cream pot. "Watched him taking a bath sometimes. Watched all the men. Well, except for Khelgar of course, because, eeeeew. And Grobnar, for the same reason. That Sand was not bad, either. Bit small and slight, perhaps, but not bad. And Casavir...", she sighed wistfully. "Well, but you know that."

Chantal broke into helpless laughter. "You really are impossible, you know?"

"Yes", grinned Neeshka. "But never mind." Her face turned serious suddenly. "Be careful, will you? I don't want to see you hurt like that again. You can't trust him. Even if he is oh-gods-good."

"I know", Chantal said, taking Neeshka's hand and squeezing it again. "I don't trust him. And I'll get rid of him as soon as possible. As soon as we don't need him anymore. When we're out of Luskan territory."

Neeshka's eyes searched her face, doubt very visible on her own. "I sure hope you do. Because I have to say, I really don't like him near, free and armed. Bound and gagged would be so much better."

"He saved your life, Neeshka", Chantal said, quietly.

"Maybe", Neeshka said, sceptically. "Ever wondered why?"

"All the time."

"And what do you think?"

"I have absolutely no idea", Chantal replied honestly.

"Well then, there you have it. As long as you don't know his motives, you should be very careful. Believe me. I know enough shifty people to know what I am talking about."

"You're right. And I will get rid of him." She yawned. "After I got some sleep. I'm so tired, I think I'm going to fall over in a minute."

"My watch anyway. Just go to sleep. I'm going to wake Casavir later."

Chantal smiled at the tiefling and got up. "Thanks. Good night."

"Good night", Neeshka answered, and added: "Nice dreams!", with a saucy smile.

Smiling and shaking her head, Chantal made it to her bedroll and laid down. Despite her troubled mind, sleep claimed her nearly instantly.