The Zenith

by Blackcross-Taylor

After their capture by the mysterious Irenicus, Fritha and her companions find themselves in the lands of Amn with a friend to rescue and a debt to repay. Completed

65. Last Orders

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.

Author's note: I'm publishing this a little earlier than planned since I am away this weekend (Watch out, Manchester! :-D). This is one of my favourite chapters of the ones I've been working on/published recently, which I suppose, in an ironic world, would be a cue for everyone to tell me they dislike it, but I will take that risk ;-)

Thanks, as always, to my betas, Maje, Drew and Arabellaesque, and to everyone who took the time to read and review.

-Blackcross & Taylor

Last orders

Aerie stood at the window, her head pillowed on her arms as they rested against the sill, the cold of the floorboards creeping in to her bare feet as she watched the sun slowly edge over the jumble of rooftops. She had not slept that night; she had not tried. Haer'Dalis had returned just after the moon had set, the man just appearing at her door, his bag at his back, already packed, and she could still hear the unbearable resignation in his voice as he had bid her that last farewell.

'You have not changed your mind, of course. No, do not answer, I can see by your eyes. Well, my decision is made as well then. I cannot stay here. I suffered enough of love unrequited with Raelis and I will not put myself through the same again. Perhaps some time apart will do us both some good. Please give the others my apologies, the hour is late and I do not wish to wake them… Maybe we will meet again, but until then, fair thee well, Aerie.'

Aerie sighed, a strange numbness blanketing her. She thought she would have been devastated, wracked by a misery without compare, but she just felt empty, looking back on the past two months and the memories of their relationship with a hazy disbelief; had it even happened? Had it even been she who had held his hand and laughed and kissed him. Nothing felt real, the city that was laid out before her no more than a model, the vast toy of some spoilt child.

Aerie turned from the window, taking only a few steps into the room before she had sunk down to kneel on the hearth rug and make her prayers. She did not have a set time for her worship as Anomen and Jaheira seemed to, just praying when the urge entered her heart, when she was full of joy or steeped in misery or when she simply needed guidance… like then. She knelt on the rug and raised her hands, the rough fibres pressing into her legs, the cold of the feet that rested under her seeping through her thin slip. She remembered in the beginning, the prayers of thanks that she felt she could have intoned for hours, thanks that she had finally found someone who had made her heart so sing. And then the more recent prayers, knelt begging to be shown what she needed to do to just understand him and the things he did, and why he couldn't seem to help but hurt and upset her.

Aerie felt the lump rising in her throat. Slight at first, it grew large and hotter, a burning coal lodged there and when the tears finally came she did not try to stop them, cradling her head to sob into her hand until she was empty once more. And perhaps that had been what she was waiting for, a tiredness washing through her limbs as she straightened, the girl just summoning enough will to crawl into bed for a few hours, where she could lie unaware of the world before she would be forced to face the consequences of her decision.

It was only a few hours later when Aerie awoke from a restless sleep, the elf rising to wash and dress with little care as to she was wearing. Downstairs the room was busy and her own table was no less so, the life and noise making her feel all the more empty as she moved to join them, Fritha full of smiles as she regaled the others with tales of her evening with the knights.

'Oh, I had the best time. I swear, I think we would still all be there dancing now if Simon had had his way.'

'Dancing, you say?' came Cernd, his tone unusually light-hearted, 'So, our young leader's hand was not asked for in any more permanent basis?'

'Well, now you mention it, there were a couple of marriage proposals, though I thought it best to decline.'

'Good! Boo says we need our Fritha more than they!'

'Well, thank you, Boo.'

Aerie watched Jaheira send the three an almost rueful smile before turning to the knight.

'And did you enjoy your evening, Anomen?'

The man glanced briefly to Fritha before nodding once, his voice mild, especially when compared to the girl's enthusiasm. 'It was most pleasant, my lady.'

Jaheira smiled wryly. 'Such a glowing report, Anomen -you were both at the same gathering, were you not?'

Everyone laughed, even Anomen managing a smile at her wit.

'Ah, good morning, Aerie,' Jaheira continued as the elf sank into the chair opposite, the maid arriving to set their final dish, a trencher of bread, on the table, the druid immediately moving to cut herself a few slices. 'Would anyone else like some?'

'Shouldn't we wait for Haer'Dalis?' asked Fritha.

Jaheira snorted. 'Would he wait for any of us?'

'Fair point -have you seen him yet this morning, Aerie?'

Aerie swallowed, her throat suddenly tight and she only just managed to shake her head. Fritha frowned slightly.

'Are you all right? You look ever so pale.'

'No, I- I'm fine.'

'Have you and he had another fight?' Fritha questioned, sending her a sympathetic look and not even waiting for an answer, sighing as she made to rise, 'I'll go and knock for him.'

'Don't!' Aerie cried before she could stop herself, the elf feeling her face growing hot as everyone turned to her.

'Don't what?' questioned Jaheira, 'Aerie, what is wrong?'

'Please-' Aerie cried, suddenly desperate, 'please don't go, he- he's not there!'

'Aerie, calm yourself, you are not making sense.'

'Yes,' agreed Fritha, 'what do you mean, "he's not there" –has he gone out?'

Aerie swallowed and shook her head. 'I- we had another quarrel last night and- and he left.'

'Oh, well, no matter,' sighed Jaheira, leaning across the table to slice some more bread, 'I'm sure he'll be back once he has finished licking his wounds.'

Aerie choked back a sob, their cruel obtuseness forcing her to relive the thing.

'I- I don't think… When we fought…'

Fritha leaned in, gently clicking her tongue as Aerie tried to swallow her tears, Anomen and Cernd suddenly very interested in their breakfasts.

'Oh come now, Aerie, I know it probably seemed like you both said things that you could never come back from, but I'm sure it is nothing you cannot resolve.'

'No, you're not listening!' she cried, angry at how Fritha had assumed it was just another of their silly little quarrels, 'He did not just leave, he has left; he has gone!'

'Gone?' repeated Fritha, drawing back from her with a frown, 'Well, when is he coming back?'

Aerie felt her throat tighten again, hardly daring to breath.

'I- I don't think he is.'

The table looked astounded, though none more so than Fritha.

'What? He- he's just gone? Just like that? No explanation? No note? Nothing?' Aerie watched as something about the girl hardened, eyes narrowing, her voice slow and measured, 'Well then why didn't you stop him? Or- or even tell one of the others? Or anything?'

Aerie shook her head, this anger unexpected. Everything was happening so quickly, everyone staring at her waiting for an answer and she felt almost dazed.

'I- I just thought it would be better this way.'

Fritha's eyes flashed. 'Better? Better for whom?'

'Fritha,' warned Jaheira, quiet but firm. Aerie swallowed, a bitter anger of her own rising within her.

'No, let her speak her mind, Jaheira!' she snapped shrilly. It had been building for days now, the desire mete out some of the pain she had been feeling as she'd watched them together, the way Haer'Dalis seemed to trust the girl, the pair relating to each other in a way Aerie would have always found impossible.

'After all, if we're dispensing the blame we should not neglect your share. Always dragging him about the city, a companion to your misery, too caught up in your own troubles to see you were driving us apart,' she accused, feeling an unpleasant rush of joy as Fritha flushed. 'The way you would carry on with him, always laughing and going off together; you liked him from the very beginning, didn't you?'

Fritha's cheeks were scarlet now, though it seemed more from anger than any embarrassment, the girl suddenly on her feet and much taller than Aerie had ever remembered her being.

'I was nothing to Haer'Dalis but a friend, something you wouldn't understand since you're too selfish to have ever had one! Haer'Dalis loved you; he would have done anything for you! The way he would talk after your arguments, so desperate to understand why you kept picking at him, the way he professed to love you over and over. You drove him away, Aerie, just you, and now he's gone and the group is one man down, and I am one friend the less, so I hope you're happy with yourself!'

'Fritha,' came Jaheira eventually in the stunned silence that followed, her voice quieter than it had been, 'that's enough now…'

Fritha shot the woman a dark look but said no more, abruptly grabbing up her cloak to throw it about her shoulders. 'Sod this, I'm going to the theatre!'

'Fritha!' someone shouted, but Aerie said nothing, her heart beating heavy in her chest as though she had just woken from a nightmare. About her, people were talking, but they sounded far away and she just sat, watching the battered tavern door where the girl had last been before she pushed her plate away and rose as well.

'I'm going to the circus.'

xxx

Outside the morning was cold and sharp, Fritha's breath misting in the air as she drew deep calming lungfuls. But it was no use. After last night and the pain of watching Eriyn leave again, to lose another so unexpectedly was too much for her. Haer'Dalis, her friend, the one person who had made that last tenday anywhere near bearable, was gone, more than likely forever, and she was alone once more.

Fritha felt her fists clench, eyes closing against the pressure building in her temples, the world pressing in about her. She hated that city, that life she had been forced into, her head reeling with the sheer intensity of the feeling, the urge to just be free of it all coursing through her and before she knew it she had begun to run. It was slow at first, no more than a jog, but she pushed herself faster and faster and soon she was haring through the streets, Athkatla just a blur around her, her whole world reduced to the heavy pounding of her heart, the air burning in her lungs and for a few meagre moments she was free. She reached the bridge all too quickly though, the sight of the Five Flagon bringing her sharply back to reality and she skidded to a halt outside, Samuel stood on the front step smoking his pipe as he enjoyed the morning's quiet and she just caught a glimpse of his concerned frown before she bent double, her hands resting on her knees as she fought to catch her breath.

'You all right there, Fritha? You looked like Asmodeus himself was after you.'

'No, Samuel, no, I'm fine, I just…' she trailed off, feeling herself going red, all her hatred turned to embarrassment and she swallowed the sudden lump in throat, frightened she would just burst into tears right there in the street. But she did not.

Fritha drew in one final breath and slowly let it go.

'I- I am fine, Samuel. Is Higgold up yet?'

He was, but only just, the director still looking half as sleep as he greeted her in the tavern, the rest of the cast and crew all sat at the tables about him taking their breakfast.

'Oh, my Lady Patron, I did not think we would be seeing you until later, I, ah, there isn't a problem, is there?'

Fritha shook her head, trying to force a smile to reassure him but it would not come.

'No, no problem, I just had some free time so I thought to come here and see if you need me for anything.'

'Oh, well, you caught up with all the paperwork the other day and we are still awaiting the dyed parchment for the invitations… Oh, but I know Meck needs help fetching an old chest from the larger of the two storerooms -Ketrick was supposed to help him yesterday, but his back is troubling him again. Oh, but perhaps you should not-' he added in afterthought, perhaps worrying she would deem such a task beneath her.

'No, no. I'm sure I can be of assistance there. Where's Meck?'

The boy was already down in the theatre and she found him backstage, stood at the open doorway of the larger storeroom sizing up the chaos of furniture and props within and Fritha considered that once the season was over, she would definitely have to assign some people to the task of organising the place.

'Morning, Meck,' she sighed in greeting, 'Higgold said you were hoping to fetch out some chest?'

The boy started slightly, glancing up to her and seemingly surprised she was there though he recovered soon enough.

'Oh, morning, m'lady. Well, I was just thinking on that meself. The chest is somewhere in the back there; it's going t' take all day to shift that mess out to get to it though -I can see why Ketrick's back suddenly started playing up, aye?'

Meck laughed and Fritha smiled slightly, the boy's good humour somehow making the ache within her all the worse.

'Well, I don't really fancy spending all day shifting props. The path to the chest is mostly clear; I say we just sort of clamber over and we'll worry about how to get it out once we're there.'

It was agreed, Meck seeming rather enthused by Fritha's haphazard approach to the task and they clambered through the jumble, ducking under a barrier of blunted spears to walk along a faded sofa and squeeze past an overflowing chest of drawers, Meck laughing as Fritha was assaulted by a papier-mâché skeleton, which fell from the top of a nearby wardrobe to tangle her in a dusty embrace. The chest was resting against the back wall, half-hidden under a pile of poorly made tabards from some long-forgotten fictitious army and the pair of them spent a few moments clearing the area about it, Fritha climbing to the other side and she and Meck both crouched down, worming their fingers under the heavy base.

'Ready? And lift,' she signalled, half-straightening and nearly choking as the cords at her neck caught on the drawer handle next her. 'Whoa there, hold on before I strangle myself.'

They set the chest down again, Fritha taking a moment to untangle herself before she straightened.

'A key?' Meck confirmed, his attention caught by the large iron key and her jade stone that now hung above her tunic.

'Yes, though don't ask me what it opens for I haven't a clue,' she sighed, slumping onto the sofa they had just climbed across to take it from her neck, the boy perching next to her, 'We found it in the house of a fugitive we're supposed to be hunting, but the trail has been cold for days now. I don't know why I'm still wearing it, I suppose I just want to believe it's still important, that we can still find him.'

She let the boy take it from her, small hands running over the worn letters with a reverence which reflected the importance she had attributed to it.

'Hmm, Samson and Wellings.'

Fritha was astounded. 'You –You can read it?'

Meck glanced up to her smiling proudly.

'Oh aye, me ma taught me my letters when I were young, though I weren't so good at the time. I'm much better now though: Marcus's been 'elping me.'

'Well, good,' Fritha continued, feeling somewhat caught out, 'but I mean you can read it? The whole name? The first word is so worn none of us could make it out.'

Meck just shrugged. 'Yeah, but I know what it says anyway.'

'What?'

'Aye, from those digs I 'ad when I were in that street gang. It were full of stuff from when it were still a factory; old crates and jars and sacks and on them all that were stamped: Samson and Wellings-' He looked to her again, frowning slightly at her no doubt stunned expression, 'Lady Patron?'

Suddenly Fritha was on her feet, clambering back through the chaos and almost falling over herself in her haste.

'Meck, we've found him! We've finally found him!'

xxx

Aerie pulled aside the heavy canvas flap and slipped through the narrow gap, escaping the bright noise of the Promenade into peace of the circus tent, the air tinged with the familiar smell of sawdust and damp canvas as the morning dew dried on the sloped fabric roof above her. Though it was not early in the morning by any means, the last performance in the circus never ended until almost midnight, a much more bawdy routine entertaining the drunken crowds that filled the pavilion at that hour, and as a result the circus folk generally rose much later than was usual. Aerie stood in the small entrance chamber, the main pavilion through the curtains to her right, the rows of benches empty before a silent stage while behind the curtain to her left were the performers living quarters. They seemed just as lifeless as the circus proper though and Aerie was just wondering what she should do when the flap was pulled back, and Yasmine, the cheery halfling knife-thrower, bustled through, a towering basket of laundry in her arms.

'I'm sorry, the first performance isn't till- Aerie! I almost didn't recognise you! We have not seen you here in a while. I was just on my way out- there's a nice old gnomish lady in the east of the arena who takes in laundry- Here, let me call your uncle out.' She poked her head back through the curtains to bellow at a volume that quite belied her size, 'Quayle! Hey Quayle, you've a visitor.'

And the gnome himself appeared but a moment later, looking as though he had not long been up, shirt half-untucked and whiskers standing out at odd angles, the gnome fumbling for his spectacles. 'Now who-? Ah,' he cried as he finally fitted them to his nose, 'is that my little Aerie?'

Aerie smiled weakly, feeling a pang of homesickness so strong she wondered how she had ever left the place. 'Hello Quayle.'

'Hello indeed!' he scolded fondly, 'Why so formal, my child? Or are you too grown up now to be giving your old uncle a hug? Ha, that's better-' he chucked as they finally parted from a friendly embrace, 'Now what brings you back here?'

Aerie shrugged, not sure she knew the why of it herself. 'No reason, I just missed you, I suppose.'

Quayle sent her a searching look and nodded wisely.

'Ah, I see… Well, let's go in the back and have a proper catch up, then,' he offered with his familiar toothy smile, the pair of them bidding Yasmine farewell as the halfling left for the Promenade, Aerie slipping off her boots to carry them as she followed her uncle through canvas floored sleeping quarters.

Most people were still trying to catch up on their sleep before preparations for the first performance of the day required them to be up, people nestled about the room under piles of bedding, the curtains hanging here and there about the chamber the only attempt at privacy. Quayle was headed for the back of the tent, pushing aside another heavy canvas curtain to what served as the circus's kitchen, the battered old range already hot in the corner, the room dominated by a long table where Aerie herself had once taken her meals along with everyone else. She sank down at the far end of one of the long benches, Quayle setting two chipped cups before her and filling both with some well-stewed tea from a large iron teapot on the stove behind them before taking the seat next to her.

'So,' Quayle began slowly after that first bitter sip, 'that blue-haired fellow of yours not with you this time, then?'

Aerie dipped her face, taking another mouthful of the hot strong tea and across from her, she heard her uncle sigh.

'Aye, I thought I recognised that look. So, are you going to tell your old uncle all about it?'

'Oh, Quayle, everything has gone wrong!' she burst out suddenly, 'I wish I had never left you, never left the circus!'

'Oh, my Aerie, there now,' he soothed as she began to cry, 'what has happened?'

'Everything,' she hiccupped, her voice sounding almost echoed as she mumbled the words into her hands. 'Haer'Dalis has gone. We've been fighting and fighting and in the end I just let him go and now the others hate me and I am stuck here on this wretched rock, the world pressing in about me, all its pain and misery clogging up my mouth until I feel it will suffocate me!' she cried, the anger and sorrow she had been trying to forget for as long as she could remember finally flooding out of her, the girl flinging her arms about his neck as she cried, 'Oh, Quayle, why did they have to take them? Why did they have to take my wings?'

Quayle said nothing, just stood there with his arms about her, gently stroking her hair just as he had in the beginning. And, Aerie considered dully as her tears finally subsided, had anything really changed since then? At her ear, she heard Quayle sigh.

'Ah, my dear little Aerie, I fear I did you no favours when I took you in after the slavers cast you out.'

Aerie drew back from him, so shocked she could not even feel stung as she cried, 'How- how can you say that?'

'Oh, I don't mean it unkindly, but you've never had a chance to grow like the rest of us have. I protected you, yes, but I hindered you too, held you back; you've never had to be your own person, never had to face up to your loss.'

'If you thought so, then why didn't just cast me out again as the slavers did?' she snapped sharply. But the gnome just sighed again and shook his head.

'Oh Aerie, these things are not so easy to see and I cared for your well-being, truly I did. And in the begin it seemed only right I take you in, protect you from the harsh world outside in the bright pantomime that is the circus, where everyone has a role to play. But as time went on, I came to realise that it was no good for you, these canvas walls just another way for you to hide from your sorrows -because of me you had just swapped one cage for another. I knew it would be hard for you and a part of me just wanted to spare you from it. I hoped travelling with those adventures you might be able to find your true place in the world, but...' he trailed off with a shrug, taking another mouthful of tea.

'Oh don't talk of them, please, I can't bear it,' Aerie cried, an awful yawning hole suddenly opening just under her ribs as she imagined having to face them all once more. 'They will have no place for me anymore; Fritha hates me now Haer'Dalis has gone.'

Quayle reached across the table to pat her hand, a warm look on his old whiskery face. 'Ah, things aren't ever as bad as they seem.'

Aerie could not agree, merely nodding vaguely to ask, 'Do you think I did the right thing, letting him go?'

Quayle puffed out a long uncertain sigh.

'Well, now, if you are unsure, I surely could not say. I suppose time will tell, though I will say this: the decision is made now, for good or ill, it will be how you deal with the consequences that will truly make the difference in you.'

xxx

'Some more tea?' asked Cernd. Jaheira shook her head, her cup still half full on the table before her and the man turned immediately to the ranger at his side, Minsc offering Cernd his cup with a grim nod. Breakfast had hardly been the same after Fritha and then Aerie had made their abrupt departures, Anomen leaving for the temple soon afterwards and with nothing else to be done, Minsc, Cernd and Jaheira had just remained at the table, gloomily sharing out the rest of the tea and waiting for the others' eventual return.

Minsc sighed deeply as he swallowed that first scalding mouthful, returning the cup to the table before him with a dull clunk.

'Ah, all these quarrels -and between friends too,' the man shook his head gravely, 'not good, not good. Boo was sure that once these vampires were refused, peace would come again to our group.'

Cernd was murmuring his agreement, but Jaheira said nothing. The vampires had brought their group more trouble than either of them could ever know. She had not forgotten last night's promise to Dermin, though she was certainly having second thoughts about it after this morning's altercation. Jaheira sighed, she had wanted to draw Fritha aside today, perhaps mention something about needing her later, but then Haer'Dalis's departure had come to light and Jaheira had had no further chance.

The druid swirled her cup absently, watching the tea leaves whirl in the storm within. Such a conflict really could not have come at a worse time. Fritha was, at the very least, unhappy and probably very angry into the bargain –perhaps it would be best to delay this meeting until she was less irascible. Jaheira set her cup down again with a frustrated sigh, feeling old and foolish. Galvarey was a Harper, as she kept reminding herself; he would not let something so minor influence his evaluation. No, the time had come for this all to be brought out in the open and resolved, once and for all. She would take Fritha before Galvarey as promised, let him speak with the girl and see that, despite some unfortunate decisions of late, her heart was good, and then his and the seniors' worries would finally be allayed.

Jaheira took up her cup again, downing the last of her tea in one long cold mouthful and almost choking as the door banged open behind her, Fritha stood in the open doorway, haloed by sunlight and looking wild, the boy, Meck, at her heels.

'We've found him.'

--

The docks were busy. A trading vessel had just docked from Waterdeep and the quayside was a chaos of people, crew and dockworkers trying to unload her cargo, the few passengers that had disembarked milling about in twos and threes still trying to find their legs (and some their stomachs too, by their pallor) while merchants jostled in amongst them all, trying to collect the wares they were due, one man complaining loudly to the first mate about a consignment of blue-glazed pottery that had apparently been damaged on the trip. But even then, their group were still drawing looks, such a strange mix of people marching so purposefully through the throng, a young boy leading the procession.

'Gods, Anomen will have my head,' Fritha muttered to no one in particular, ignoring the press about her in a way Jaheira never could. 'He made me promise after the crypts incident that I would always tell him when I was planning to do something illegal and potentially dangerous.'

'There, it's that one over there, the one on the end of the block,' announced Meck as they reached the end of the quays, the boy pointing to a long whitewashed building that ran right up to the quay's edge where it merged with the harbour to go down into the sea, the three frontages it bore in differing states of repair, but all set with the three same rows of small sand-grazed windows. Fritha nodded once.

'Good work, Meck. Now I need you to run over to the temple of Helm and ask for Anomen and tell him –oh, just tell him this whole convoluted story and bring him here if he's willing.'

The boy nodded to show he'd understood and turned to run back up the hill.

'Right,' continued Fritha, casting her eye over the three buildings before her, 'let's find our fugitive.'

But it seemed this was to be easier said than done. As Meck had said, the factory which he had once called home was no longer, three properties now where one once stood and it seemed none of them had even seen their fugitive nor knew where they could find a door for their key.

Jaheira watched as Fritha came out of the last building, a large inn that looked like it served as a brothel as well from the large number of dubiously dressed women hanging about outside, the girl sending her a dull shake of her head as she made her way back to where Jaheira, Cernd and Minsc were awaiting her on the quays. Fritha looked strange in her chainmail, the girl so rarely wearing it about the city unless on some excursion to the sewers or graveyard or other place where she expected danger, and with her boots at last fastened properly, the leather tightly laced to up over her knees, her contrast to the surrounding women could not have been more pronounced.

'Here, love, that were fast!' one of them called to her suggestively, no halt to the girl's pace as she turned to reply, 'You're telling me; I demanded my money back!' and Fritha reached them to a chorus of debauched laughter that was much opposed to her grim look, Jaheira absently wishing that the squire had been with them for this jaunt, if only so she could see his blush.

'The innkeep said he's never seen anyone matching the description around here and as for a door,' Fritha shook her head, and Jaheira guessed his answer had been the same one they had been given in the warehouse and the trading coster before it; that baring the floors and ceilings, the insides of the building had been completely re-worked during the renovation –nothing of the old factory was left. Fritha sat down on the rusted iron mooring bollard next to her with a discouraged sigh.

'This is impossible. This key was nothing after all; the door it fits probably doesn't even exist anymore.'

'But then why would Valygar have it?' questioned Jaheira, Fritha throwing up her hands in her frustration.

'Who knows? But no one round here seems to have seen him.'

'Well, that hardly means anything. If he can avoid the eyes of the Cowled Wizards, I doubt he would find hiding from mere citizens any feat- Cernd, what are you doing?' Jaheira questioned as she turned to see Cernd a few paces away at the end of the quays staring down at something in the harbour below.

'Cernd?' she called again, though he appeared not to hear her, the druid moving to disappear down the stone steps at the end of the quays. Jaheira was on her feet an instant later, Fritha and Minsc at her heels as they followed him to the edge, gazing down the flight of steps to find Cernd stood on the sloped wooden jetty beneath which ran a short way along the wall, the water of low tide lapping at the lower edge, while up against the harbour wall a silt bank had been formed by the changing tides, fine black mud pushing up through the wooden slats.

'Cernd?' Jaheira called again as she made her way down the steps to join him, 'Cernd have you found something?'

'Perhaps,' he answered slowly, the man gazing up at the wall behind them and as Jaheira reached him, she finally saw why. The outline of a huge archway was set in bricks just above the tide line, the area beneath it bricked-up now, a solid wall of stone a shade lighter than the rest of the wall, though it had clearly been a doorway at some point in the past.

'Of course!' he exclaimed suddenly, stooping to press his finger into the mud that caked the slats beneath their feet, the man touching it to his tongue.

'Cernd!' squealed Fritha, looking revolted.

'It tastes of soap, just like the mud from the footprint at the murder scene. This place, Meck told you it was a factory, yes?'

Jaheira was nodding slowly, an understanding dawning behind her eyes. 'It was a soap factory; where better to situated it, where the whalemeat needed could be brought straight here to be rendered.'

'So, Valygar was here then, on this jetty… Then where does this fit?' asked Fritha, holding up the key, the group casting about them when-

'There,' said Minsc, pointing further along the jetty, Fritha following his hand to an iron door to the right of the larger doorway and flush with the wall, small and plain enough to be easily overlooked.

The sense of expectation mounted as they walked, until they were there before the door, all crowded in about the girl as she place the key in the lock and slowly turned it, the tense silence finally broken by a smooth run of clicks.

Fritha's voice was unusually hushed. 'It's open.'

The was no handle, the girl merely placing a hand against the rusted metal, the door swinging open with an easy silence that spoke of frequent use and Jaheira leaned over the threshold to see a narrow set of stone steps spiralling up in to the gloom, the first few coated with mud and algae from the monthly spring tides.

Cernd frowned. 'Do you think we should wait for Anomen?'

Fritha shook her head, eyes lit with a fierce anticipation.

'No. We'll go up now and try to surprise him. Jaheira and I will enter first, Minsc and Cernd come in afterwards, but remain on the stairs unless we get in trouble, I don't want him getting past us.' She glanced to Jaheira, 'Ready?'

The druid nodded and slowly the girl drew her sword and they began their ascent, the stairs coiling upwards for at least two floors before they finally reached a plain wooden door, the stairs that would have continued upwards suddenly bricked off, likely blocked when the building was renovated. Jaheira put an ear to the door, but apart from the distant roar of the ocean and the light breathing of those about her, she could hear nothing.

She shook her head at Fritha, the girl adjusting her grip on her sword, her other hand twisting the handle and the door swung silently open to reveal a sunlit room packed with a half empty bookcase, a large desk and a wardrobe; a narrow pallet set against the wall behind them almost as an afterthought. Though all this was secondary, for the first thing anyone would notice as they entered was the sheer confusion of books and papers that covered the floor, scattering the desk and even the bed. Another doorway was set in the wall to their right and Jaheira crept towards it only to find a smaller room that was devoid of any furnishings or even the mess of the first and holding only two crates, both stacked untidily with books.

'No, there is no one here,' she confirmed, lowering her staff as she turned back to the others.

Fritha sighed, moving forward as well to make more room for the men behind her. 'What is this place?'

'It was likely some sort of office or temporary storeroom used to load waiting ships,' offered Cernd, gazing about the room as though hoping to find some evidence of it. 'Yes, you can still see the hole in the roof timbers where the crane must have been, and that was likely the loading aperture,' he continued, pointing to an uneven patch of bricks under a lintel in the lower part of the eastern wall. Fritha nodded, turning back to the room.

'Well, whatever it was used for, it looks to have been ransacked.'

'Not quite,' corrected Jaheira, casting a critical eye over the mess, 'There is no sign of any forced entry and the wardrobe is empty. Someone was definitely in a hurry to leave here though,' she drew a finger across the shelf behind her and wiped the dust off on her sleeve, 'and their departure was not recent either.'

'Oh Hells, so he could still be anywhere then?' Fritha sighed deeply, 'Well, there's enough parchment strewn about here. Perhaps one of them holds some clue. Right, Minsc, Cernd, you return to the inn –hopefully you'll run into Anomen and Meck on the way. Jaheira and I will make a search of this place, and join you all soon.'

A moment to wait for the men to move off and Fritha turned back to the mess before her, dropping to a crouch in amongst the papers. Jaheira knelt as well, sifting through the chaos of notes, diagrams and pages upon pages of magical equations, hoping something would catch her eye. She glanced to the girl next to her, Fritha frowning as she tried to decipher some strange-looking symbols. This was the first opportunity they had had to speak since the argument, and she was very aware that time was running out if she was to bring the girls to a reconciliation.

'You know Aerie left for the circus mere moments after you did…' Jaheira sent her a measured look, 'She seemed very upset.'

Fritha snorted dully, swapping the parchment she was examining for a large black bound book.

'Yes, I'm crying her that river.'

'Fritha, I know-'

'Look, Jaheira, we could be about to find the location of the fugitive that will finally secure Imoen's release, as far as I am concerned, we have better things to talk about than Aerie.'

Jaheira swallowed, very aware of the huge sandstone building that stood but a few hundred yards from them at the other end of the quays. 'Fritha, now is not the time to be revelling in such discord -you are our leader; people look to you and expect to see the calm responsible demeanour that such a position warrants.'

Fritha glanced up, her eyes narrowed. 'And when did you suddenly begin to care what people expect?'

Jaheira faltered, unable to voice the worries she had spent so long denying. More pressing concerns forestalled her reply though, a somewhat rough female voice drifting up the stairwell.

'Oi, what are you two doing here?'

Cernd's voice, calm and civil answered the woman.

'Just looking for the Wyndward Warehouse, I was told it was in the far east of the docks. It is not around here?'

Fritha hissed a curse, for a moment so angry she felt she could have screamed; was nothing simple?

'Quickly, in here,' whispered Jaheira urgently, the pair leaping up to bundle themselves into the open wardrobe, Fritha's fingers gripped awkwardly about the lock and holding the door to; the last thing they needed was to get locked in.

'I don't like this, Arvind. That door should have been locked, and those two blokes looked suss too. And- Besheba's Horns!' the woman's voice exclaimed as she finally reached the room. Her accent was that of the local area and broad with it, and Fritha was surprised when a dark-skinned young woman of Calimshite decent cross her narrow field of view, 'What in the Hells has happened in here?'

'Gods!' came another voice, male this time and sounding just as surprised as his companion. 'I know Valygar said he deliberately ransacked the place in case it was discovered, but to this extent? Do you think the Cowled Wizards have found this place? If they have that diary…' The speaker stepped forward, further into the room, the man tall and fair from what she could see of him and Fritha felt her heart groan, her arm instinctively tightening about the book she still held to her chest.

'If they had found anything we'd know about it,' the woman reassured him, and Arvind sighing deeply.

'I know, but with finding the door open… That book contains all Lavok's notes concerning the sphere. If the mages have got hold of it they might be able to find another way to summon the thing or even build one of their own –Come on, spread out, we'll have to search for it.'

The floorboards creaked as someone crossed to the window.

'Arvind, those blokes are still hanging around out there.'

'Damn it!' Arvind cursed vehemently, 'It's no good. All right, you go and get Gaine and Haru and come straight back here and burn the lot, all the notes everything; we can't risk any of it falling in to the wrong hands. I'll set out for Umar right away, tell Valygar what's what and see if he needs any more supplies before the winter sets in; it can get really bad in those northern hills and he's far enough from Imnesvale to be unable to make the journey regularly.'

'Right, those two look to have gone; it seems as though they've given up, for now at least.'

'Good, I'll see you in a tenday, Sangeeta.'

They leaned in to kiss and Fritha felt rather uncomfortable, the girl letting her gaze drop, all her focus on her fingers and the pain aching through them as she kept the door wedged closed.

'Be careful, Arvind.'

'You too, my love.'

The sound of footsteps and the front door slammed shut. Fritha watched as the woman, Sangeeta, moved back in to view, crouching to sift half-heartedly through a few of the scattered papers before giving up as well, straightening with a sigh and Fritha heard the door slam a second time. She waited a few moments more, her heart beating heavily, before she pushed the door wide, stepping out into the sunlit room, the muted clamour of the docks unchanged outside the window, the world carrying on about her, unaware of her swelling sense of hope.

He was in Umar.

xxx

Everything was explained and planned in but a moment, an unnerving contrast to the time the actual search for the man had taken, and Fritha was marching them back through the slums at a pace even Minsc was struggling to match. Jaheira hurried along, feet pounding on the packed earth and gravel of the street, her stomach a twisted knot; she had spent so long avoiding the Harpers, the idea they could leave before their summons came was making her anxious. What if left they and Galvarey believed it was deliberate? Another attempt to keep him from the girl would just make things worse in long run and Jaheira was torn between trying to get word to them herself or hanging back and leaving it all to the Fates.

'Anomen, you're here,' came Fritha's voice ahead of her, Jaheira surprised to find herself already before the open door of the Coronet, Anomen glancing up and looking alarmed by their abrupt appearance.

'Yes, my lady, why is there a prob-'

'Ah, there-' came a voice behind them, Meck suddenly stood in the doorway they had only just left. 'Oh, Lady Patron,' he continued with surprise as he noticed them, 'how were it, m'lady?'

'The house was empty, but we've found another location for him. Thank you for your help, Meck'

'Not a problem, m'lady.'

He dipped a quick bow and was gone, the four turning back to the table as Anomen demanded, 'What is going on?'

Fritha was quick with her answer.

'We've found Valygar. I sent Meck to temple to find you, but…'

'My prayers did not keep me there long,' he explained promptly, 'so have you any news? You told the boy we've a location.'

'Indeed we have, we found his hideout within the city and while we were there, two of his company arrived. We overheard them talking: Valygar is hiding out in the hills somewhere north of Imnesvale. We leave first thing tomorrow -we are going to the Promenade now for supplies.'

'Is Aerie still at the circus?' asked Jaheira, Fritha seemingly losing interest in the conversation as she stooped to tidy her bootlaces.

'I have not seen her return,' offered Anomen as he gathered up his belongings.

Jaheira nodded. 'Well, we can fetch her once we arrive.'

Fritha snorted but said nothing she could hear.

xxx

Aerie sighed, leaning closer to Minsc as another shopper jostled past her, the stout woman too preoccupied to even notice her as she continued to upbraid the mulish young boy she was dragging in her wake. Her return had been strained; Yasmine peeking her friendly face around the curtains to tell them her group were waiting for her outside and Aerie had bid farewell to her uncle and those of her friends who were still eating a very late breakfast and had reluctantly gone to join them.

As Quayle had spent the last couple of hours reassuring her, her worries had been misplaced, though perhaps not entirely. Cernd, Minsc and even Anomen had greeted her return with welcoming smiles, though Jaheira had managed no more than a civil nod and Fritha had simply ignored her, merely talking to the group as whole as she had told them what supplies they required and divided the tasks amongst them, the girl leaving it to Minsc to explain about their discovery concerning the fugitive as Aerie and he headed for the western steps. They had been tasked with buying the cured meats, waybreads and other dried foodstuffs that would make up their rations for the journey to Umar. The best stall for such produce was the furthest from the rest, right out of the Promenade in the western plaza, but it had not been busy and they had finished their shopping first, the pair returning to where they had arranged to meet at the eastern end of the Promenade not far from circus tent she so longed to hide within.

Fritha was not far from them either, the girl stood before a stall but a few yards away, laughing and chattering with a merchant as they haggled over the price, a light-hearted face to that subtle serious business. And it seemed Fritha had won that bout, the merchant finally giving a smile that seemed more wry than calculated and nodding once, and Fritha was rummaging in her bag for her coin purse, Aerie about the make a comment as to the speed of the transaction when another passing shopper caught her shoulder.

The woman whirled back to her and Aerie was suddenly face to face with dark-skinned girl of a comparable age to herself, her bright eyes deep-set and as black as the long shiny curtain of hair that was tidied away into the hood of her travelling robes.

'Your pardon, I did not-' she began, the apology dying on her lips as the girl was suddenly transfixed by Minsc, something about the way she was staring up at him showing the elf it was not just the usual attention he received for his sheer size.

'What is your delay, Emurra?' called a commanding voice behind her and Aerie, for the first time, noticed her two companions: another girl of similar age and colouring though perhaps slightly prettier, and a much older woman who was clutching a staff, her hair now white with her many years, her swarthy face lined and creased like an old apple.

'Forgive me, Hath- ah, Elder Yundra but…'

The girl trailed off meekly, no need for any further explanation, it seemed, the white-haired woman transfixed as she had been, her eyes lingering on the striking violet tattoos that adorned his head and, to Aerie's surprise, Minsc began to flush red.

'You are a Rashemi,' said the woman eventually and it was not a question, 'You are accompanying a Wychlaran on her Dajemma, yes? Your markings clearly show it. Where is your witch?' she asked, suddenly casting about him, her eyes resting for the briefest moment on Aerie.

'Oh, it is not I,' the elf hastened to assure her.

'Truly?' sneered the other young woman who had been silent all this while and Aerie joined Minsc in his blush. Elder Yundra sent the girl a stern look.

'Hulmeira… I ask you again, brother: where is your witch?'

Minsc swallowed, his throat bobbing though his voice was steady as he answered her. 'Forgive me, sister, but my witch, she- she is dead.'

'And you still live?' gasped Emurra, though she looked more astounded than appalled. Hulmeira on the other hand…

'You failed to protect her?' she cried so loudly that people nearby turned at the noise. Minsc's blush intensified as he rumbled, 'That is so, sister.'

Elder Yundra stared up at him with an unrelenting look and for the first time of Aerie's knowing him, Minsc looked cowed.

'If you failed to protect her, you should have returned home in shame to face the consequences, not be hiding from them here amongst these foreigners.'

Minsc said nothing, merely bowed his head and Aerie felt her indignation swell.

'He is not hiding! He is helping someone. He- he had sworn to rescue-'

'His duty was to his witch! He swore to protect her or die in the attempt!' interrupted Hulmeira. Aerie ignored her.

'He is sworn to rescue an ally and is in pursuit of the mage who took his witch's life- Minsc, say something!'

'Who was your witch?' asked Emurra quietly.

Minsc did not look up as he answered, 'Dynaheir of Mulptan.'

'I have not heard her name ere this day, but I will carry it and news of her passing to those who have,' said Elder Yunda gravely.

Hulmeira shook her head pityingly, 'What angry spirit's umbrage cursed her with such a poor protector?'

'Any witch would be proud to have Minsc as their guardian!' snapped Aerie.

'Clearly some witches have to,' Hulmeira retorted with a sneer that indicated that she did not think much of either of them.

'Enough, Hulmeira!' said Elder Yundra sharply, the first time the older woman had raised her voice and Aerie felt the hairs on her neck prickle; there was power in her. The young witch immediately dipped her face, hands pocketed in either sleeve in a stance of instant deference as Yundra returned her attention to Minsc, her manner serene once more.

'It is right that you pursue the one who murdered your witch and take his life, but do not assume that this act alone will purge you of your failure. Only when you return to our homeland and face the judgement of the Wychlaran can you truly began to find atonement; do not be delayed in seeking it. I wish you good hunting.'

And with that they were gone, Elder Yundra turning on her heel to continued her path west across the busy marketplace, people hastening to get out of her path in a way they never would have for Aerie, the two younger women hurrying in her wake. The elf turned instantly back to the ranger at her side, Minsc still looking wholly abashed.

'Who were they?'

'I am thinking, and Boo agrees, they were a hathran and her two blethran wards; the proud witches of my homeland. They are often known to travel past our boarders to learn more of the world, especially in their youth. Just as Dynaheir once did…' He trailed off, looking deeply sad, Aerie suddenly angry that those women had dared make one as kind as he feel so ashamed.

'But, but how can they say all that to you? They don't know what happened. You did all you could-'

'Do not make a fuss, little Aerie, they are right. Boo and I know their words have truth, have always known it. We will take our vengeance on Irenicus but we have failed our witch, and our honour never will be free of that stain.'

'But-'

He sent her an unusually stern look and Aerie could tell this meeting was not something Minsc wanted to discuss further. She sighed and determinedly held her tongue as Cernd and Anomen appeared from the crowds before them, the four exchanging mumbled greetings, Jaheira moving to help Fritha as the merchant passed over her goods, the women finally joining them a moment later, Fritha's chainmail chiming with each step.

'Right, is that everyone finished?' she asked absently, still struggling to push the last of her purchases into her already overfull bag. A murmur of unenthusiastic assent. 'Good. Well, I suppose we should see about getting something by way of lunch.'

'Well, since we are here, we could dine in the Mithrest,' offered Anomen, hoping to lift this somewhat gloomy atmosphere. Jaheira sent the well-kept frontage behind them a frown.

'No, I do not think so.'

'If it is a matter of the coin, my lady, then I will glad-'

'I said no, Anomen! I will not take my meal surrounded by the mindless clamour of Athkatla's rich and foolish!'

'Jaheira,' came Fritha, not shocked or reproachful, but the bland flat tone of one only interrupting from a sense of obligation and Anomen felt all the more stung. The druid heeded her all the same, dipping her head as she continued, 'I- my apologies, Anomen.'

'Come on,' sighed Fritha, turning to head towards the western steps and together the group trudged back to the slums.

The common room of the Coronet was busy, a group of what looked to be mercenaries in the corner and already drunk, the men roaring at the maid for more ale and Anomen had to bite his tongue against a comment at the distinguished company they were now taking their meal in. He doubted he would have been much heeded anyway, the frayed tempers of before leaving the group quiet and introspective. Fritha was staring into her dish with unfocused eyes, every now and then glancing to her bag and nodding imperceptibly to herself, as though mentally checking off all they would need for the morrow and as for the druid...

Jaheira had not spoken since her outburst in the Promenade and the only times she lifted her head from her dish from that moment on, were when the tavern door would open and she would glance sharply to it in a way that put him on edge, and Anomen was almost relieved when the door banged open once more, a messenger marching straight to their table to hand the druid a letter. The table watched, no one speaking as she read it over at least twice before placing it in her pocket and pushing back her chair.

'My presence is required elsewhere. Fritha, your attendance is also… requested.'

'Me?'

Jaheira glanced to the girl, something of the uncertain to her look and in Anomen's opinion something that was far more worrying than any of her displays of temper had been.

'Yes, is- is that a problem?'

It clearly wasn't, Fritha shrugging once, dipping to gather her bag from the floor at her feet, if curious about Jaheira's request she was not showing it. But Fritha's apathy did not extend to the rest of them, Aerie glancing between the women with a frown.

'What? Where are you both going?'

Jaheira threw her cloak about her shoulders, not even looking to her as she answered. 'To meet with some associates of mine. We shall return here later.'

'Should we not attend as well, my lady?' Anomen pressed, something about the woman's manner unnerving him.

Jaheira shook her head.

'No, that will…' she paused, the shadow of something flickering behind her eyes, before she turned back to them, 'Yes, I- I cannot see why not.'

Aerie raised a shrewd eyebrow. 'So, does that mean you'll tell us were we're headed?'

Jaheira was half-turned to go, a ghost of a smile gracing her features as she swung her cloak about her shoulders.

'We are going to meet with others of my number –at the Athkatla Harper Hold.'

--

The docks were cold, a chill wind blowing in from the sea as the group stood waiting on the quays before the large sandstone building where they had delivered the poisoned man so many months before. Though Anomen had suspected the druid was a member of some covert group just by her actions -the way she would sometimes disappear off on errands she refused to explain, he had still been surprised to learn Jaheira was of the Harpers. That disorganised and secretive group, working tirelessly to Faerûn's benefit, or merely meddling in its affairs depending on to whom you spoke. And he was not alone in his surprise either, Cernd and Aerie sharing a whispered conversation as they waited, though it did not appear to be a revelation for those who had known her longer, Fritha and Minsc stood side by side in silence. As for the Harper herself, Jaheira was at the doors now, talking to someone behind the grille who seemed reluctant to allow them all entry, though he finally relented, the door swinging back as Jaheira turned to beckon them forward.

The room they entered reminded Anomen of the Order's Great Hall, large and airy, though this was far more opulent, marble columns stretching up to a distant ceiling where small crystals hung, suspended by some magic and glowing softly, providing the room with light in the absence of any windows. A half dozen or so Harpers were milling about it, all watching them with a guarded look and Anomen could not help but notice they were all armed, hands twitching over their weapons as though they had been warned to expect trouble. Their group were immediately ushered over to stand a few paces from the doors, only Jaheira and Fritha allowed to continue on further into the room.

To one side a desk had been placed, an older grey-haired man in robes sat behind it while next to him was stood a man of about Anomen's age, tall and lean with a shock of dark brown hair. He was deep in conversation with the older man, though he glanced up at their arrival, smiling as he crossed to greet the druid.

'Ah, Jaheira, you have come as we asked and you have brought her –and everyone else you know as well, by the look of it.'

Jaheira raised a stern eyebrow. 'Was I not to, Galvarey? Your note did not specify.'

Galvarey smiled tightly and shook his head.

'No, no, it matters not, this is no interrogation, just an informal interview to assuage any lingering reservations held by the seniors. Perhaps your companions would be more comfortable waiting in the common room?'

Anomen shifted where he was stood, ready to protest this, though Jaheira got there before him, sending the Harper a pointed look. 'I am sure they are fine where they are.'

A pause, the tension between them almost palpable before Galvarey dipped his head in acquiescence, turning his attention instead to the girl next to her.

'As you wish. Ah, and you must be the young lady who I've heard so much about; Fritha, is it not?'

The girl nodded once, her face impassive. 'Well met, sir.'

Galvarey's smile broadened and Anomen felt an unease stir in his stomach.

'Ah, and so charming too, who could have predicted it? Has Jaheira explained to you why you are here. No? Well, allow me to oblige you. The Harpers serve the greater balance and as such we find ourselves concerned about the motivations of the young woman who is so cutting a path along the Sword Coast. So it was proposed, and Jaheira agreed, that you were to be questioned on your motives that we may lay any concerns we have to rest. Reasonable enough?'

Fritha shrugged, sending a chary glance to Jaheira as she answered, 'I suppose.'

'Excellent. Will you have a seat?'

Fritha sent another look to Jaheira, but moved to sink onto the low bench before the desk as she was asked. Galvarey smiled, moving to stand beside the seated man.

'Now, this is Ramas, a sage of our number who is to evaluate your answers and perhaps let us ascertain the logic behind them.'

Fritha sighed, turning an annoyed frown on the druid behind her. 'Jaheira?'

The druid stepped forward, frowning herself.

'Really, Galvarey, is this necessary? I thought you just wished to speak with her.'

The Harper laughed. 'And what would be the point in that, when she has charmed you all so completely? Surely you realised that this would be required when you agreed to bring her here, Jaheira? Goodness, we discussed it often enough.'

Jaheira flushed, Fritha's face suddenly stony as she turned back to the desk without another word. Ramas smiled, narrow-eyed and anguine.

'Hello, Fritha, now something simple to begin with, I think; may I inquire as to your favourite colour?'

The girl blinked owlishly. 'Sorry?'

'What has that to do with anything?' interrupted Jaheira sharply, Galvarey sending her a quelling glare.

'As I said before, we are hoping to get a glimpse into the unconscious mind. Now if you would just answer the questions, Fritha, with the first thing that comes to you.'

Fritha sighed. 'All right then, blue.'

Ramas nodded wisely, making note of something in the ledger before him.

'Ah, blue: the colour of grief and tears.'

She snorted. 'Yes, and my tunic. Can we hurry up here, please, I have quite a bit to do today.'

Ramas barely glanced up from the ledger.

'Hmm, becomes riled when questioned in the most minor of matters. Very interesting. Now on to my next; Fritha, what is your earliest memory?'

The girl sent him a tight smile. 'Well, I recall walking through that door back there, but before that is just a blur. Sorry.'

'Fritha!' cried Jaheira, a slight desperation creeping in to her tone, the sage shaking his head as he continued to write.

'Hmm, you are very antagonistic. Not good. Not good at all.'

'Fritha, please, just answer their questions!'

The girl sighed again and more deeply this time, scrubbing a hand across her face.

'It is the day I arrived in Candlekeep. I am in the gardens staring into one of the fountains by the main keep. Gorion and Ulraunt are stood at the top of the steps. They're arguing. I can't hear what they are saying, but I know it is about me. That's all I remember.'

'Interesting,' said Ramas, finally glancing up from his ledger, 'So your first memories are of discord, anger, hatred. Hmm, that explains much. Now, my next question: have you violent thoughts, Fritha?'

'You what?'

'Galvarey!' shouted Jaheira, the man ignoring her to demand, 'Just answer the question!'

Fritha turned a defiant glare upon him.

'That question is unfair. Violence is a part of our world, it is unavoidable!'

'So you find violence unavoidable?' prompted Ramas. Fritha gave a hollow bitter laugh.

'Well, it certainly feels like it some days.'

Fritha had seemingly had quite enough of this inquisition, making to stand once more, Anomen and the others moving instinctively to join her and the Harpers about the room seemed to close in as well, gathering at Galvarey's back; the battle lines were being drawn. Jaheira forced herself between the two groups, looking almost desperate.

'Galvarey, I demand you put a stop to this- this farce immediately! Fritha did not mean it that way, this man is twisting her words. I brought her here for you to see her as she is, not as you would believe her to be.'

Galvarey shook his head, unmoved it seemed. 'And how can you tell what she is, Jaheira, when deception is a very part of her being? Can you comprehend the thoughts of an illithid or beholder? She is akin to these.'

'Only in your mind!'

'What- what are you both talking about?' came a tentative voice and Anomen glance to his side to find Aerie watching the pair argue with a confused look. Of course, Fritha must not have told her…

Galvarey turned to the elf as well, suddenly smiling in a look of cruel delight.

'Oho, have the lies been spun to even ones so close to you? Lament, elf, for the one you have followed so loyally all this while is none other than one of the Children, or, as they are more commonly known, a Bhaalspawn.'

Aerie whirled instantly to Fritha. 'You- you're a Bhaalspawn?'

'Yes, and the fact that I didn't ever mention said heritage to Haer'Dalis should tell you more than first memories and favourite colours ever will!'

A look Anomen could not read seemed to pass between the girls and Aerie turned her attention back to Galvarey without a word, Jaheira attempting again to resolve the stand off.

'Galvarey this is not our way, as Harpers-'

'As Harpers,' he interrupted loudly, 'we have a greater duty to maintain the balance. How can you, as a Harper and a druid, sanction the freedom of this girl? Chaos and destruction are in her very blood.'

'But not in her will! She is good! Her presence restore the balance destroyed by the others of her kind.'

Galvarey snorted disdainfully. 'Restores the balance? As she did for Delthyr?'

'Galvarey!' Jaheira shrieked as though the man had invoked the name of Khalid himself. Anomen glanced to Fritha; the girl was white, her look of defiance replaced by a sudden blankness of expression.

'You understand, do you not?' Galvarey continued, his voice softer now, ignoring the druid to move closer to the girl and Anomen could not help but step up behind her. 'How your very presence in the world endangers those around you, all lives you touch, however briefly. Why, even those who travelled with you-'

'How dare you rake up the past like this!' Jaheira shrieked, Minsc stepping forward ready to restrain her and Anomen took the moment to lay a hand upon Fritha's shoulder. She glanced to him, her face no more expressive than when she had stared blankly back at Galvarey and he felt his stomach tighten.

'Enough of this,' continued Galvarey coldly, 'It has been decided the risk is too great. Fritha, you are to be… confined.'

The girl whipped back to him, a sneering smile suddenly twisting her face. 'And where am I to be locked away? I do hope it is somewhere with a view.'

Galvarey enjoyed the slightest of smiles.

'You mistake me, Fritha, there will be no walls to confine you other than the ones woven by my mages. We cannot kill you -to do so would merely free the dark essence that rests within you, allowing Bhaal one step closer to his goal. No, I speak of an imprisonment to contain the very chaos you would sow, however unintentionally. Just a short ritual and you will spend the rest of your existence in a small container a few leagues beneath the earth. Quite peaceful, so I'm told.'

Anomen found his mace suddenly in hand, his grip about the handle so firm his knuckles were white. Fritha was practically shaking, her look wild.

'You, you-',she breathed as though she could not think of a word horrible enough for him, 'I will die before I submit to this!'

Galvarey sighed.

'That is unfortunate, but not unexpected. Jaheira your orders are clear, as are mine: by the will of the Harpers and for the greater good this girl is to be confined. The rest of your companions are free to go.'

'We go nowhere without Fritha!' roared Minsc, Jaheira nodding firmly.

'It is as he says.'

Galvarey whirled to her, seemingly astounded. 'You would go against the will of the Harpers to stand by this- this monstrosity?'

Jaheira stared back at him, unwavering. 'You are wrong, Galvarey, and I will not aid you in this injustice.'

'Very well. I was hoping to avoid bloodshed, but as you will. Kill them all, take the girl!'

The Harpers closed in about them, Galvarey stepping back perhaps hoping to avoid a fight himself, though it seemed Fritha had other ideas about that. The girl ignored Jaheira's cry to dive for him, the Harpers before her suddenly finding out how difficult it was to take someone alive, especially one who knew you could not hurt them, Fritha swinging her sword at anything within reach as she cleared her path to the man.

The others she had left were not so fortunate though. Anomen brought his shield up, guarding against another sword thrust from the grim looking woman before him, the knight countering with a rather feeble uppercut with his mace which she easily blocked. The Harpers had surrounded them an instant after Fritha had fought through their lines, their own group forced back to back, pressed in so close he had not enough room to swing properly and a place from him he could see Minsc was having the same trouble. The ranger was fairing better than he though, his greatsword brought up, one gloved hand at the hilt the other on the blade itself as he wielded it spear-like at his opponent's face and shoulders, keeping the man constantly on the defensive. Anomen blocked another attack with his shield. Though hardly fairing well himself, he wished he knew how Fritha was, but the girl had disappeared somewhere behind him and he could not risk letting his guard down for a glance back to find her, his only comfort the fact that bastard, Galvarey, had wanted her alive.

Fritha did not let her eyes leave the man for an instant as she upturned the desk Galvarey had been trying to keep between them, Ramas diving out from where he had been cowering underneath it and running for the stairs, Fritha barely sparing him a glance, all her focus on the man before her.

'Why so reticent, Galvarey? You wanted to capture the evil Bhaalspawn and show your masters what a good little Harper you are. Well, now's your chance to earn that glory.'

Galvarey's eyes narrowed, the man at last drawing the sword at his hip, the blade long and unusually thin, a blue sheen to the metal.

'You think I am defenceless, Bhaalspawn?' he sneered, adjusting his grip on the sword as they began to circle one another. 'I said you had to be taken alive, I did not say you needed to be whole.'

'You'll have me dead or not at all!' she screamed back, leaping forward, her sword at shoulder height as she swung at him with a vigour that stung her hand as he parried the move, her blade forced downward to crash against the tiles at her feet. She was slightly stooped now, her sword under his, Galvarey taking advantage of this and bringing his blade up to slash across her face, Fritha shifting her weight to dodge the sweep and barrelling into him, forcing her shoulder into his chest to send him staggering back a step.

'Still want me alive?' she spat, her only answer a vicious thrust to her shoulder, Fritha moving to dodge the blow, though she was not quite fast enough, the point piercing the links of her chainmail, the chainshirt riding up as the blade slid over her shoulder slicing through the flesh. Fritha screamed, though more from her fury that the burning pain that suddenly sang along her arm, the girl making a thrust of her own at his open stomach. With his sword still caught, it was all Galvarey could do to sweep her blade to the side with his free arm, his vanbrace not quite sparing him as she opened a long wound across his forearm and they both leapt back, panting as they circled each other once more.

Anomen watched the woman before him carefully weighing up her next attack as he tried to remain focused enough to do the same. He had heard Fritha's scream not long ago, the sound of it piercing right through him and he had been fighting ever since to keep him mind on the battle before him. At his back, Aerie was trying to call another spell, the close confines she had to work in, pressed inside their small circle of bodies, doing nothing for her casting. It seemed she was managing this time though, a crackling ice-blue charge building between her hands to bathe all around her in a fierce white light.

'Someone get on the witch!' came the roar from somewhere behind him, and Anomen heard the elf herself yelp an instant later, though he was not given time to contemplate what had caught her, his hair and skin suddenly pricking with static as the spell she had been weaving exploded, the energies surging outwards through the bodies surrounding her in a blinding flash. Anomen saw his chance, ignoring the jolting of burning pain as the charge ran through him to take advantage of his momentarily stunned opponent, knocking aside her feeble parry to thrust the edge of his shield into her throat, the women staggering back a step and finally giving him enough room to take a decent swing at her, his mace connecting with the side of her head with a force that rendered her helmet useless, the knight immediately stepping over her body to engage the man at her side and Anomen felt a rush of exhilaration as the battle finally turned.

Galvarey parried another thrust, sharply slapping her blade away with his own to make a slash at her knee, her shoulder aching as Fritha quickly leapt back swinging her sword up into a close guard as they continued to circle one another. Her was tunic clinging unpleasantly to her skin beneath her chainmail where the warm blood was soaking into the fabric, a narrow trickle making it all the way down her arm, her sword hilt growing slick in her hand.

Galvarey lunged forward, taking another swipe at her wounded shoulder, Fritha dropping her sword into a back guard and stepping into the attack, past his blade to swing up at his chest the tip just scoring his armour as Galvarey changed direction at the last moment to make an unanticipated slash at her throat. Fritha leapt back just in time, caught out by this change in stance; taking her alive was clearly no longer the only option. In the haste of her retreat, her footing was all wrong, her weight too far back, Galvarey already pressing his attack, the man bringing his sword back in the opposite direction for another slash at her head to end the thing, Fritha ducking awkwardly under his blade, throwing all her weight forward to make one final desperate thrust at him, forcing her blade up through his chest, leather armour and all.

She could not hold him on his feet, the man collapsing to the floor to take her sword with him and Fritha had to brace a foot against his body as she eventually heaved it free, Jaheira rushing over as the battle behind her ended as well.

'Fritha, are you unharmed?'

'An Imprisonment spell?' Fritha shrieked, ignoring her question to whirl on the woman, her fury evident.

'I had no idea they would do this, I swear!'

'But you knew they were not to be trusted, didn't you? Didn't you? That's why you had us all attend, isn't it? I heard Galvarey: been discussing this for weeks, haven't you? You knew Galvarey was going to try something like this and you brought me here anyway.'

Jaheira looked stricken, reaching a tentative hand out to her. 'Fritha, I-'

The girl leapt back.

'Don't you touch me, don't you dare!'

For a moment they stood, Jaheira still with a hand hovering halfway to her, Fritha staring back at her, somewhere between defiant and distraught, when the girl turned on her heel and stalked from the hall.

'Fritha!'

Jaheira hurried to catch her, Minsc stepping in to place an arm across her shoulders, barring her way.

'Let young Fritha go, Jaheira. Only things you will both regret will pass between you if she stays.'

'But…' the druid protested weakly before she seemed to sag in his arms, gently shrugging the ranger off to turn, gazing distractedly over the carnage about her, her brethren fallen at her feet, dead by her hand.

xxx

Anomen moved through the dusty gloom of the backstage, following the directions Higgold had given him, the director's imperious commands drifting after him as the man continued to oversee the rehearsal that was currently in progress upon the stage. The remainder of their group had headed straight back to the Coronet at first to await the inevitable fallout, but as more time had gone on it had become clear that the city guards would not be arriving to arrest or even question them and Anomen left the others at the tavern to attend temple and try to find an inner calm before he set out for the one place he believed Fritha could be, her list of possible havens greatly reduced in number of late.

The steps to the flies were before him now and he ascended them, the girl slowly revealed as he climbed, Fritha sat at the opposite end of the long walkway, her feet over dangling over the edge and arms resting upon the rails as she started down at the stage, one hand red with the dried blood that had seeped down from the wound in her shoulder. Anomen paused as the railing creaked under his hand, Fritha clearly hearing it though she seemed to know who it would be and did not glance up as she spoke.

'Do you think you can look back on your life and find the exact moment when it all started to go horribly wrong?'

Anomen felt his heart twist, the pain sudden and sharp enough to make him wince.

'Fritha-'

'Don't. Don't tell me everything will be all right, Anomen; we both know it won't. That's enough now, Higgold, perhaps a break is in order,' she called to those below her, Higgold glancing up to nod once, ushering the players from the stage.

'Come along, you heard the Lady Patron, you all need to look over your lines more anyway. Meck, tell Samuel to send down another few carafes of his small ale.'

Anomen swallowed, wondering if she meant to dismiss him as well, though he had no intention of leaving, the man just standing there until he felt self-conscious enough to take the last few step and sink down beside her, the silence between them broken only by the gentle rumble of the patrons in the tavern above. He had so much in his heart, so much he wanted to say to reassure her and ease her misery, but he knew how it would come out; just words, empty of the feelings he so wished to express and in the end it jut all boiled down to a question.

'Who was Delthyr?'

'A half-elven Harper who sought me out upon my return to the Gate, after we were framed for the murders at Candlekeep. He warned me that our contact at the Flaming Fist, Scar, had been assassinated and that our other ally in the city, Duke Eltan, had taken to his bed with some serious illness. We met for only a few moments at most…' She shook her head, somewhere else a moment before glancing to him at last, a certain steel creeping into her manner.

'He was killed, Anomen, captured by Scar's less than loyal replacement and once he refused to tell them what he knew of me, they murdered him.'

She turned slightly, knees brought up and arms wrapped about herself as though cold, her eyes gaining a distant look and she was almost smiling as she continued. 'He was so young, so earnest… it's strange what you remember, isn't it? His eyes shone like black pearls in the gloom of the bar and he kissed my hand as we parted; no one had ever done that before…'

'Fritha, you did not kill him,' Anomen said with conviction, wishing very much she would look at him and having to fight the urge to grab her shoulders and make her. But in the end, she glanced to him anyway, the hardness back to her eyes.

'He died because of me, Anomen, I accept that. Do not mistake me. I do not blame myself, I did not kill him. But he did die because of me and I will not shy from the weight of that knowledge; I would not dishonour his memory.'

A silence fell between them again, Anomen turning to stare down at the stage as she was. The place felt strange so empty, putting him in mind of the deserted ruins of forts and outposts he had sometimes come up on his campaigns with the Order; the dead relics of long defeated armies, chilled with ghosts and memories.

'Who was the first person you killed?'

Anomen glanced to her sharply at the question, Fritha sending him an unreadable look in the gloom and he shrugged absently as though he could not recall such a trivial thing. But she levelled that ever-even gaze at him and he at last answered, his voice feeling oddly hoarse.

'A mercenary, some years older than myself. He was serving with an orc tribe who were raiding villages on the northern edge of the Cloudpeaks. The Order were sent to rout them, though I was not among their number then. I was with a company of priests sent from my seminary to tend the wounded when the village in which we were stationed came under attack.'

Fritha nodded absently. 'Yes, my first was older than me as well, though I suppose that is likely when you start such things so young. He was an assassin who had sought me out in Candlekeep before I'd even left. I did not know his name, I can't even picture his face… but I can still hear the wet thud his head made as it hit the floorboards.'

'You feel guilty? But surely he attacked you?'

Fritha shook her head.

'No, Anomen, I do not feel guilty, but I did kill him. I killed someone: removed them from this world never to affect it again. I did that. I have done it to others since and I shall no doubt be forced to do it in the future. But I should never forget what I am doing, the weight of the influence I carry in my sword… it should never lose its significance.'

Anomen frowned. 'But surely you believe some people deserve to die. Irenicus-'

'Was a very bad man, yes, I know,' she cut in tersely, 'I'm not saying I don't want him dead, I'm not saying I do, but either way it is just my opinion. But deserve to die? What makes me worthy to proclaim such a judgement? How can anyone?'

'But surely in some cases, you believe it is right?'

'Right? And who decides that? You? I? The one left standing? Right is subjective. I kill people, yes. I have before and will again, but I would never ever be deluded enough to fool myself into believing that it is somehow noble of me. That I was right and they were wrong and this makes it all fine.'

Anomen drew back, this self-destructive path she seemed so firmly set upon more disturbing than any of her previous melancholy.

'But- But you cannot think that way, my lady; surely, you will drive yourself mad!'

Fritha snorted bitterly. 'And is the alternative preferable? To just become accustomed to it, until it doesn't even raise my pulse anymore?' She shook her head darkly, turning back to the stage. 'Perhaps madness is the price of all that blood.'

He watched her for a moment, just staring out at the empty theatre, before finally she sighed, taking the rail for support as she heaved herself up.

'Enough, no more self-pity; we must all play the hand we're dealt. Come, I should speak to Jaheira, she will be worrying.'

They made their way back to the Coronet in silence, Fritha walking beside him through the gloaming streets with a loose indifferent gait, as though she cared for little more than just putting one foot before the other. The tavern was busy with patrons taking their evening meal and the pair were almost to their table before they were noticed by the others, Jaheira on her feet in an instant, her look frantic.

'Fritha, I-'

But the rest of what would have undoubtedly been a fervent apology was lost as Fritha threw her arms about her neck and embraced her firmly. 'I am sorry, Jaheira, I know you did not mean for this to happen,' She drew back to hold the woman at arm's length, fixing her with an unwavering gaze as she added, 'I trust you.'

The sound of crying drew his attention from the two women, Anomen looking past them to the table where Aerie was weeping into her hands, Cernd looking perturbed, though Minsc was just smiling kindly as he rubbed her back.

'Goodness, Aerie what is wrong now?' sighed Jaheira, though it lacked her usual brusqueness, sounding almost fond.

'I'm just so relieved,' the elf hiccupped, taking Fritha's hand to add, 'I'm so sorry we fought this morning. I did not mean what I said.'

Fritha smiled, patting her shoulder kindly 'I'm sorry too, Aerie.'

Fritha laughed humourlessly as she sank into the empty chair next to her, Anomen and Jaheira sitting as well, 'Ah, it's been a fraught couple of days, hasn't it?'

Across the table Minsc nodded gravely. 'And Boo does not think it is to get any easier.'

'No,' agreed Jaheira, the druid dropping her voice, 'There has been no word of what happened at the hold about the city as yet. I believe the Harpers are keeping it quiet -they will not want the guards investigating their business. But that does not mean they will just forget about us. Indeed, the Harpers have very firm ideas about how to deal with those who murder our brethren; we must be prepared for retribution, though I still have friends within our ranks. Perhaps Dermin or one of the others will be able to convince the seniors that Galvarey left us with no choice before there is the need for any further bloodshed.'

Fritha nodded.

'Well, in that case our plans remain as they were. We leave for Umar first thing on the morrow.' Anomen watched as she leaned back with sigh, her eyes gaining a distant look. 'Haer'Dalis used to say the planes all dance to the rule of Three; that everything, good and bad, comes in threes… I wonder what is coming next.'