Disclaimer: I do not own 'Shadows of Amn', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them.
I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

– Blackcross & Taylor

A house divided

It was very late; or very early, depending on which way one was to look at it, a watery grey light just beginning to creep over the eastern horizon, a hint to the dawn that was still a couple of hours away. Haer'Dalis looked out on it with tired world-weary eyes, the city as grey as the sky that hung over it. The Prime, that of place such mild diversity. It had not the extremes of the planes -of infernal and celestial splendours both, of suffocating rules and boundless madness- but its own even mix of all of them still kept it interesting in its own unique way.

He had first travelled there out of necessity, the Prime as good a place as any to hide from those bounty hunters and the troupe had secured the theatre and spent a few dull months in Athkatla before they had been discovered and his skills were called upon to fetch the planar gem and secure them a means of escape. A task that had been managed eventually though not as any of them had envisioned, and he remembered it very clearly, stood, his friends of the troupe pressing in about him, making their farewells as that Astral prison collapsed around them.

When he had first asked to join with Fritha and her Prime-bound band he had never planned to stay. Not that he had ever really planned anything, content to take life as and when it came, just as he always had. No, the Prime had merely been a place where he could make an escape of his own, working so closely with Raelis doing nothing to heal her rejection of him, and he felt the break would do him good before he made his return to the planes with fresh eyes and a mended heart. But the Prime had formed a far greater claim on him than he had ever expected.

He had liked Aerie almost from their very meeting, the girl open and enthusiastic, unmarred by the ever-present cynicism which pervaded in Sigil. She had seemed naïve too, another rare trait, though as he grew to know her better he had realised that such may have been more assumed on his part than was actually the case. She had suffered much in her young life and it merely made her all the more the rarity that she could still see the world with such bright optimism, and throughout their myriad of confessions and quarrels, it had been that, her beautiful aura of hope that had kept his regard firm.

He could never have anticipated that it would be the thing that eventually came between them.

He had been a Doomguard for decades now; ever since he had been introduced to its philosophies and his eyes had finally been opened to the nature of the multiverse. It had been his guide, unwavering and true, through the twisted chaos of the planes. And so why did he suddenly feel the wretched namer, as though he had been giving false worship to a philosophy that had no hold on his heart?

It was not as though he had lost his beliefs; indeed, he saw more than enough to give credence to the Doomguard philosophy all about him. But it was not an issue of whether he could or could not believe it anymore, but a nagging doubt that perhaps Aerie was right, the philosophy he had followed almost all his life merely a shield he hid behind, rather than facing up to the ordeals of his past.

Of course, there was only one true way to find out, and it was one which could serve to change him and all he believed forever. Still, perhaps it was as Fritha had said; perhaps she was worth it.

The girl on the bed behind him stirred, muttering something too quiet for him to understand. Fritha had been so ever since she fell asleep, whispering away to herself, sometimes in languages unfamiliar to him, though she never woke and with her cheeks still holding their vinous blush, he had not even bothered to cover her with the quilt in the end. He watched her a moment longer, curled upon her side with her back to him and the world beyond the window, one hand entwined about the cords at her neck while the other lay carelessly next to her, palm up and fingers parted, as though waiting for another's hand to lead her in some dance.

The bard left her sleeping, stealing from the room and locking the door behind him, confident the girl's magics would not make a prisoner of her. The corridor was dark and silent and seemed much longer than it usually did, her door a few paces from him and he walked them with a trepidation that was as frightening as it was stirring.

He knocked softly, more concerned of alarming than waking her; he knew that Aerie, like him, was unlikely to have slept that night. And sure enough, there was a rustle, a creak and a voice croaked out, 'come in'.

The curtains were closed against what little light there was, the whole room laid out in shades of grey as though he had somehow stepped into the Plane of Shadow. And there she was in the gloom, sat on the bed slightly hunched and wearing the same clothes she had been when they had parted, Aerie staring blankly back at him as he moved to kneel before her, gazing up into a face that could have been carved from alabaster so emotionless it was.

'Aerie, I cannot apologise again; I fear we are both tired of hearing the words that come to naught. But I have been thinking, and what I will say is this: I am yours and, from now on, whatever you wish to hear of my past, my thoughts, anything, then you need only ask; I lay it all bare before you and will accept the consequences as they come, because I love you and there should be nothing between us.' He stared up at her face, her eyes bright and glassy. 'Aerie?'

She said nothing, just dipped her head as she began to sob into her hand and for want of anything else, Haer'Dalis rose to sit next to her, a gentle arm about her shoulders as he let her cry.

xxx

Fritha slowly opened her eyes, a wan grey light pouring through the open curtains and she could feel the beginnings of a headache already throbbing in her temples. She did not recall getting to bed the night before, but she was there now, laying face down and fully clothed on top of the quilt, her hip sore from where one of her belt buckles had been pressing into it as she'd slept. Fritha rolled on to her back to stare up at the ceiling with unfocused eyes. She knew what would have to be done now, had known since last night and Bodhi's little revelation, and Fritha, wanting to look at it practically, knew it would be something that would be easier to bear with the haze of last night's wine still blanketing her from the world. She sighed and slowly sat, heaving off her tunic and wondering vaguely where her bag was as she made to change her clothes.

The world outside was like an assault to her senses, even at that early hour, the stale heavy reek of the slums combining with the low rumble of a city awaking and Fritha felt as though she could still be asleep, the world about her distant and unreal. The clear grey sky above was pale, glary with the dawn's light and she was glad of her hood, drawn up to shield her eyes as she made her way to the docks.

Myrtle was there as she always was, sat at the foot of the stairs pouring over a ledger that was likely the guildmaster's diary for the day and, though she looked surprised to see her there so early, the girl showed her straight up, explaining that the Thief Master had only just risen himself in that cheerful way of hers that Fritha found somehow depressing that morning. And finally the door was open and she was stood in that simple room before that familiar low table, not yet strewn with parchment as it usually was and baring only a neat lacquered tray set with tea, Renal Bloodscalp looking up with a genial surprise.

'Ah, good morning, Fritha,' he smiled, gesturing to cushions opposite, the girl removing her cloak and taking a seat as he continued, 'Well, this is a surprise, though not an unpleasant one, I might add. Will you take tea?'

She nodded and he poured her some, passing it over to her. Fritha stared down at the cup now nestled in her hand, a fine white porcelain with the inside glazed in blue, so neat and pretty, and she felt suddenly very sad.

'Well, to what do I owe this pleasure?'

'I have more information for you concerning the vampire guild,' she answered promptly, the girl relating to him all that Parisa had rather foolishly told her the night before. Renal listened to it all in silence, though he made no attempt to hide his admiration when she at last finished her account.

'Well, even for one who makes his living by gathering such information, that is astounding work, Fritha; how on Toril did you come by this knowledge?'

Fritha watched the tealeaves drift in her cup.

'Actually, their guild approached us. They offered us a path to my friend, Imoen, and for only five thousand gold.' She glanced up from her tea to fix him with an unwavering look, 'A quarter of the sum the Shadow Thieves asked of us.' Renal did nothing. If he was surprised, he betrayed nothing of it in his face, the man just sat on other side of table like a statue as she continued, 'I just want to know one thing: did you know where Imoen was all this time, Renal?'

He remained still a moment longer and Fritha dropped her attention back to her cup listening as he swallowed, though his voice was clear as he spoke and she did not look up to watch him as he answered; if he was lying she did not want to know.

'I know no more than you, Fritha, the name of the asylum. Only the Shadow Master, Aran Linvail, knows of its location. Funds were needed to finance this on-going guild war. Your gold was to pay for your transport there and keep our own guild from falling to the vampires.'

Fritha nodded once, draining the last of her tea and setting the cup down on the table before her with a certain irrevocability.

'I see. Well, it seems our arrangement is finally concluded.'

For the first time ever in their acquaintance, Renal looked rattled. 'You- you accepted their offer?'

Fritha smiled humourlessly, shaking her head as she rose.

'Come now, Renal, I should hardly be here telling you all I have if that were the case. No, no, despite popular opinion to the contrary, even I draw the line at working with vampires. I was referring to our agreement: that you would look out for work for us in return for information on the guild. I do not think they will be quite so trusting of me in future, not once they find out I've brought everything they told me straight to yourself, and you have more than fulfilled your part of the deal.' Fritha looked down at him, this man whom she had so trusted, and against everyone else's advisement too, the aid he had afforded them no less welcome despite this betrayal. 'You have helped us greatly over the last few months, Renal, and I thank you for it. Well,' Fritha sighed, swinging her cloak about her shoulders once more, 'I don't imagine we will ever have reason to meet each other again now our arrangement is concluded.' She dipped a bow. 'I wish you well, Renal. Goodbye.'

Downstairs, the room was empty, Myrtle nowhere to be seen and Fritha crossed instantly to the alcove she knew was nestled beside the main doors, pushing aside the long dark curtain to spend a few blissful moments sobbing in front of the shrine to Mask, before she manage to compose herself enough to make her prayers for Imoen, leaving the collection bowl a few coins the heavier.

The sun had finally crested the eastern rooftops by now, staining the world a sleepy yellow and the docks were alive with people; travellers and sailors alike all rushing down to the quays, ready to sail with the morning's tide, while lines of couriers ran past her, shallow trays of fresh fish in their arms as they headed for the markets of the Promenade. The bustle of the place was almost painful and she could feel the shrine to Oghma calling to her, enticing her to lose herself in its sanctuary of dust and silence. But, it would do nothing in the end and she knew it, and she forced herself past the place, the girl walking a slow pace back to the slums.

xxx

Anomen walked the streets of the slums, sunlit and pleasant, the warm dawn light seeming to lessen the weight on his heart. Losing his temper with Fritha the previous evening had been a disappointing return to old habits and he had wanted very much to speak to her that morning. But he had risen early to attend matins and he did not feel waking her, especially after the evening she had undoubtedly had, would have been particularly welcome. He glanced up to her window as he finally arrived back at the Coronet, the curtains open just as they had been when he had left and he wondered if she was awake yet.

He was still trying to decide whether or not it was too early to wake her as he reached the corridor, finally settling on knocking very softly on her door with the idea of leaving if there was no answer, though to his surprise it opened but a moment later, revealing the girl up and dressed, her sword already slung at her hip.

'Oh, Fritha, are you going somewhere?'

'I've just arrived back from the Thieves' Guild,' she answered with an impatient glare.

'I see… I wonder if I might speak with you about something, my lady?'

She sighed deeply, turning back into her room leaving the door open behind her. 'Fine, come in and let's get this over with.'

Anomen frowned, following her inside though he had barely closed the door when she whirled back to him, eyes flashing.

'Come on then, I know you're dying to say 'I told you so'. Go on, say it! I knew the Thieves' Guild were trouble and now you've got just as you deserve and-'

'Fritha, will you please calm down,' he cut in firmly, her anger unusual enough to be alarming, 'I have no intention of saying anything of the sort. That we were raising this coin for the thieves all along really is the least of any evils I would have been expecting of them. Really, does it even matter as long as they uphold their part in the arrangement and Imoen is returned to you?'

The girl seemed to sag where she was stood, sinking on to the bed behind her with a sigh.

'I'm sorry.'

Anomen frowned, this melancholy far harder to bear than her anger had been.

'As am I. If I detested Bloodscalp before, it is certainly nothing compared to how I hate him now, having seen you so distressed.'

The girl just nodded, not even bothering to look up. 'I'm sorry about last night too, the things I said -I don't know what's wrong with me at the moment.'

'I should apologise as well, my lady, 'I'm sure half of what I was saying did not make sense, but-' Anomen chuckled nervously, no explanation ready for her, though she did not seem to expect one and he felt his heartache blossom anew at her despondency. 'But please do not dwell on this, my lady-' he continued hastily, having to force himself to speak past the sudden dryness to his throat, 'Er, Simon has arranged a gathering tonight, he wishes to know if you would like to attend.'

Fritha looked up, the beginnings of a frown creeping in. 'A gathering?'

Anomen flushed, trying to look anywhere but her face.

'Ah yes… it has been planned for a long while now, though I forget the occasion –it should prove an adequate distraction, if nothing else.'

He glanced down to see the girl considering it before she nodded, smiling now, albeit wanly.

'Yes, that would be nice. Thank you, Anomen, and please give Simon my thanks too. I have to attend some rehearsals at the theatre, but it shouldn't go on too late. Perhaps I could meet you all somewhere afterwards.'

It seemed only moments later Anomen was stood in the courtyard of the Order's compound on the edge of the smiths, a familiar blond head dipped before him, its owner hunched slightly as he slowly drew a fine long blade across the whetstone.

'Simon?'

The squire glanced up, smiling as he recognised him.

'Anomen, what brings you here? I thought you'd have a full schedule rescuing damsels and slaying dragons.'

Anomen shook his head, ignoring his teasing to say only, 'Simon, I need a favour.'

…

'This is exactly the sort of thing I was talking about the other night; it is as though you don't want her to like you!'

Anomen sighed deeply. It had not taken him long to explain to Simon his rather impulsive falsehood and the reasons for it -though he had neglected mention the cause of Fritha's melancholy. And for his part, Simon was more than willing to aid him in the task, agreeing that he would get word about their friends and arrange a hasty gathering; though not without giving the knight a stern lecture first it seemed, the squire before him now and frowning as he continued his reprimand.

'You always were you own worst enemy when it came to such things, Anomen, forever unwilling just to be yourself and keeping everyone at a distance with unnecessarily formalities. I notice you still insist on addressing her as my lady.'

'Simon-'

'And why we are pretending this was all my idea when it was your own and all for the reason of cheering her? It is care like this Fritha needs to see!'

'Simon!' Anomen snapped, finally halting his friend's tirade, 'Because if she suspects this is all just for her benefit she would feel as though she were inconveniencing us and refuse to come.'

Simon sighed, shaking his head though he seemed appeased enough.

'Fine, fine, I will speak to everyone and let you know.'

Anomen nodded once, gripping his friend's shoulder firmly, wishing he could somehow put the same strength of feeling into his words and express the deep gratitude he felt.

'Thank you, Simon.'

The man just grinned, clapping his arm heartily before turning back to his work and Anomen knew he had understood.

xxx

Jaheira nodded as the maid quickly rattled her order back to her, the girl making note of where they were sitting before disappearing off into the kitchens, Jaheira turning from the bar to head back to her table and two men she had left. It was late in the afternoon in the common room of the Coronet, the street outside washed in a contrast of golden light and blackest shadows as the sunset blazed in the west. Fritha had been occupied at the theatre all day, which had left Jaheira to organise the rest of their group in a search for some work while they continued their so far futile hunt for Valygar, though it had been easier said than done. Haer'Dalis and Aerie seemed to have vanished from the face of Toril, no sign of the pair when the group had assembled around a table at lunch and, according to Cernd, no one had answered when he had knocked for them either.

Jaheira sighed as she watched the man himself gazing blankly out the window next to him, Minsc clearly knowing enough not to disturb his introspection. Cernd had been the same at noon, no outward change to his actions or words, but there was nothing behind them, his eyes dull above the bland smile. His new found despondency with the world had not prevented him from offering to accompany Minsc over to the Council Buildings to look at the bounty notices though and Jaheira was grateful that whatever pain he felt he was willing put it aside for his duties to them and this reluctance to wallow in his misery gave her hope that he would recover from his loss in time.

Anomen had been helpful too, the knight informing her he had already asked at the temple of Helm that morning and agreeing to visit the temples of Illmater and Tymora in the slums, which had left her with the unenviable task of asking about the bustling Promenade.

Jaheira had borne the crowds as best she could, though it had still been a fruitless task and it had been she who had returned to the inn first, taking a table in the common room to mull over a tea and her continuing worries. Anomen had arrived back not long afterwards to join her in a cup, before he had disappeared off to his room, returning an hour later in the tunic she recognised from Moira's funeral and his knighting both, the man looking rather handsome and very nervous as he's bid her a polite 'farewell'. Though she was not alone for long, Minsc and Cernd finally arriving back having enjoyed no more fortune than she or Anomen.

'Well, I have placed our order,' Jaheira began, Minsc and Cernd glancing up as she returned to their table, 'it should not be long.'

'Ah, dusk comes and we find our birds here at roost.'

Jaheira turned in her seat to confirm what she already knew, Haer'Dalis stood behind her chair with a roguish smile, Aerie at his back.

'There you both are! Where have you been today?'

'You were worried, my ptarmigan?'

Jaheira snorted coolly. 'Not in the slightest, though it would have been good of you to join us earlier --perhaps while there was still work to be done.'

Haer'Dalis smiled and dipped his head with what looked to be almost sincere regret.

'Forgive us, good Jaheira, but, as I am sure more than one of us can appreciate, last night had not the most restful of airs and this day found Aerie and I catching up on some much needed sleep -though this sparrow is happy to make up his toil now if you've some task for me?'

Jaheira shook her head. It was not as though there had been anything urgent to do that day, and she understood well enough. She suffered from it on occasion herself, that weariness that came from a life spent always on the move, never settling anywhere for long, always wondering where the next coin was coming from, the quarrels and bad feeling they had been steeped in lately hardly helping matters. If the couple had managed to escape it all for a day then she wished them well, though Jaheira wonder how beneficial it had truly been, still something of the weary lingering about Aerie, the girl looking drawn and pale as she silently took the seat the bard was holding out for her.

'No, no,' the druid dismissed, waving away his offer with a sigh '-though we have already ordered our meal if you planned to eat with us.'

Haer'Dalis nodded once, immediately sweeping off to the bar to no doubt make a couple of additions to their order.

'So, good Jaheira,' came Minsc after a silence long enough to make even him uncomfortable, 'what are we to be enjoying this evening from the kitchens?'

The woman shrugged. 'The choices were crab stew or grilled mackerel and rice; I ordered one dish of each.'

'Ah, very fine, though no good for Boo, eh?' the ranger laughed, gently fishing the hamster that had been nestled and sleeping in the pouch at his belt, the creature yawning widely as it perched in his hand, rubbing tiny clawed hands vigorously over its face. 'Boo does not worry though, he knows I am always carrying seeds for such occasions.'

'Should we not have waited for Fritha and Anomen to arrive as well?' asked Cernd quietly, seemingly only just realising the pair were absent, Minsc glancing up too, though Jaheira shook her head.

'No, I spoke to Fritha before she left for the theatre; she and Anomen won't be returning until much later tonight.'

'They are out?' came Haer'Dalis from behind her chair, the man returned from the bar and fixing wide near-black eyes on the druid as he exclaimed, 'Together?'

The druid smiled slightly. 'Indeed, apparently there is some gathering of the Order or the like tonight –Anomen's friend, Simon, invited her.'

Haer'Dalis threw himself into the chair next to Aerie with a loud laugh.

'Ha! The Squire Simon, you say? How wonderful! That should cheer her- er, which will, ah, benefit us all…' he finished falteringly, sending a wary look to Aerie, but the girl had not even lifted her attention from her hands and Haer'Dalis turned back to the table looking disheartened. 'So,' he sighed, though he looked little interested in the reply as he asked, 'does another noble quest await these birds on the morrow?'

Jaheira shook her head.

'I fear not and our own funds are dwindling. There is so little work in the city now the winter is here -it may be that we will have to widen our search and postpone our hunt for the fugitive while we engage in work away from Athkatla to earn some coin.'

The bard whistled through his teeth.

'I do not envy the hound tasked with broaching that with Fritha; perverse in nature though it is, this Valygar is her saviour.'

Cernd nodded absently. 'She gave up on the vampires' aid and now she must give up on the Cowled Wizards' as well? You ask much of the girl.'

Jaheira frowned, wondering who she was trying to convince as she assured them, 'Fritha is not unreasonable, merely… focused. She will see sense.'

'Here we are,' came a welcome interruption at her shoulder, Jaheira glancing up into the round and slightly shiny face of Bernard, the portly barkeep, a large tray carrying two pitchers and several cups grasped in his slab-like hands. 'Right, it was one of the wine and one of the wheatbeer, was it not?' he confirmed cheerfully, leaning over to set the tray on the table before her and unload it, his ample bulk easily hiding the small square of parchment as he dropped it into her lap, her name written on the front in a familiar angular hand.

'And your meal should not be much longer. Enjoy your evening.'

xxx

Anomen pushed open the door, the tavern beyond still quiet from the afternoon lull, the staff using the time to make their preparations for the considerably busier evening ahead. A group of musicians were setting up in the corner of the dance floor, while maids flitted back and forth lighting lamps and cleaning tables, one stood on a chair and polishing the large mirror that hung over the fireplace, Anomen catching a glimpse of himself in it as he passed, his face almost pale when next to the dark blue of his tunic. It felt strange to be dressed so formally and he wondered again if he should not have just worn one of his plainer ones, worried Fritha would notice the effort he had gone to and somehow realise long-buried feelings from that alone, however implausible such an event was. Simon was easy enough to find, sat at a table one row back from the dance floor and looking relaxed and cheerful in a tunic of deep sky blue, the silver embroidery at the cuffs glinting in the newly lit lamps.

'Ah, Anomen you're here; Erick is just at the bar and Tristan and Marcin should be arriving soon too-'

'Sir Tristan?' Anomen interrupted, as he took the seat next to him, 'I thought he was on campaign in the southern marshes.'

'He was; he and Sir Marcin returned just last night and full of talk about how many lizardmen they slew and villages they rescued.' Simon laughed. 'To hear them talk, you would think it had just been the two of them, not a whole battalion of knights! Now, Sir Diesveld and his sister will be coming later, as will Sir Hugo and his lady wife, Deorna. I spoke to Sadir as well and told him to come and to bring William and Aiden -I imagine Aiden will bring his lady too- Oh, and I invited Lady Irlana and her friends as well. In fact,' Simon grinned, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied look, 'it should be quite the gathering. But where is the guest of honour?'

Anomen shook his head, unable to help smiling; his friend had really surpassed himself.

'Fritha had rehearsals to attend, she said she would be here as soon as she could.'

Simon beamed. 'Ah, I can just see her now. Girls love to go out dancing -my sisters are just the same- she'll be flitting about that theatre of hers, all of a flutter as she dresses her hair and finds her jewellery.'

…

'No, no, no,' scolded Higgold, his nasal voice shrill in his frustration, the man waving a copy of the script under the young actor's nose, 'how many times, Davith? There is a pause after the second line!'

Fritha closed her eyes for the briefest of moments, feeling that this reprimand was hardly likely to help the boy's nerves, Davith looking red-faced and contrite as the rest of the cast fidgeted, tired of these continued interruptions.

She had been at the theatre all day, most of it spent watching this first full rehearsal, though with all the problems and interruptions they were barely halfway through the play. Higgold kept assuring her she could leave 'just after the next scene', and the last hour had found her stood in the wings, all her preparations for that night's gathering done in the snatched moments during set changes, the girl nipping back and forth to her office to wash her face and change her clothes. Fritha sighed tiredly, returning her attention to the comb she was pulling through her hair as Higgold turned back to her.

'Really, my lady, he was much better yesterday.'

'Yes, well, I don't doubt it, but I really should-'

'Perhaps, if we take it again from the top,' Higgold offered, neatly ignoring her protestations.

'Honestly, Higgold, I really have got to leave soon.'

But the director had already turned back to the stage, clapping his hands affectedly. 'Right everyone, we're taking it again from the top. Ketrick, if you can realign the lights.'

Fritha sighed, returning to her brushing, Wynn and the two actresses, Jenna and Iltheia, moving to join her in the wings while Meck and the other hands hurriedly reset the stage.

'So, where are you headed tonight, my lady?' asked Iltheia quietly, angled green eyes taking in her mane of frizzy curls with an openly pained look. Fritha shrugged, head tilting slightly as her comb caught another knot.

'Just to the Mithrest; Simon invited me.'

Jenna just about suppressed a squeal.

'Oooo, Simon -he was lovely!'

'Erick was handsomer,' offered Wynn practically. Jenna shook her head.

'Yes, but he was too quiet. Simon is a much better match for the Lady Patron.'

Fritha smiled and rolled her eyes. 'Will you two behave, I said I'd go dancing with him, not marry the man.'

Wynn grinned in a way that seemed to suggest she knew otherwise.

'As you say, my lady. So what do you intend to wear, then?'

Fritha gestured to her dark red tunic, her amber sash loosely slung across her hips, battered old sandals just visible under the hems of her black linen trousers.

'You're looking at it.'

'No!' cried Jenna seemingly before she could stop herself and looking rather abashed as she continued, 'I mean, you look very nice, of course, but I've a dress that would be perfect.'

'My Lady Patron, we are ready,' trilled Higgold, sending the four a rather stern look over the agreeable smile. Fritha grinned, gathering up her hair to pin it in place.

'Ah, looks like we've just run out of time, girls -From the top then, Higgold?' Jenna hurried and Iltheia sauntered back to their places, Higgold moving from the stage.

'Right then and-'

'Oh, just a moment there,' called a voice from the flies above them, 'the lights still a touch out-'

'That is it!' shrieked Iltheia, the elf throwing the thankfully empty tea tray Meck had just handed her to land in the auditorium with a dramatic crash, 'I refuse to work a moment longer with these- these amateurs!'

'Oh, Illtheia, my dear! Now, it will just-'

But the woman was not to be placated, the elf sweeping past Higgold's ineffectual flapping to march across the stage and Fritha could have sworn she saw the elf send her a wink as she stormed past them for the dressing room.

'Well, I never,' breathed Wynn, looking deeply impressed that the haughty actress seemed prepared to use her tantrums to help as well as hinder, though Fritha doubted Higgold would have agreed with her.

'Damnation! Ah, I had better go and fetch her back.'

'I really do have to go soon, Higgold,' Fritha reminded, the man looking torn before he finally gave up, throwing his hands heavenward with a frustrated sigh.

'All right, all right. That's it for this evening everyone; Ketrick and Alhana, please prepare the stage ready to rehearse the parlour scene first thing tomorrow and then you're all free to go. Iltheia, my dear!'

He bustled past them, leaving the stage with a rather more cheerful atmosphere as the cast began to pack up for the night, Jenna marching straight back to them, her face wearing an unnervingly predatory look, Wynn sweeping an arm towards the dressing rooms.

'Right this way, my Lady Patron.'