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

False dawn

That night was the coldest yet and though Anomen was not awake to see it fall, he awoke to find the world about them covered in a fine layer of powdery white snow, something that had been the cause of both much delight and discussion as the group had risen and taken their breakfast.

'Well, it has not lain particularly and that which has will melt soon enough once the sun is up,' offered Jaheira to no one in particular as she threw the dregs of her teacup into the forest behind and moved to pack it away with the rest of her belongings. 'And thank Silvanus for that; it would only make it easier for us to be tracked.'

Others, though, took a less practical view.

'It is beautiful,' sighed Aerie, paused in her packing to gaze about her at the frosted forest. 'As though the world has been blanketed in a pure white quilt, all nestled down to wait for the spring.'

Anomen smiled as he tied the last knot on his bedroll and shouldered his pack. Though he agreed with Jaheira's assessment, it did look quite picturesque all the same.

'Anomen?' called a familiar voice behind him. The knight turned. 'My la- ugh!'

Anomen choked and spluttered, the word lost as his face was suddenly full of snow. He leaned forward, quickly shaking it from his collar before it could melt and glancing up to confirm his suspicions. Fritha was stood on the other side of the recently doused fire, pink with suppressed laughter, a neat trough in the snow on the canvas directly above her. Anomen crossed the camp in two strides, the girl immediately diving behind Minsc with a shriek.

'I'm sorry, I'm sorry.'

She was peering around Minsc's arm, much to the ranger's bemusement, the girl still grinning and not looking remotely repentant, and Anomen could seemed to do nothing to but stand there staring back at her. There had been a time not long past when such a thing would have angered him as he was once again made to seem the fool in one of her jokes. But that had been before… Anomen swallowed, belatedly realising all eyes were on him, still waiting to see his reaction and he suddenly felt very on show.

'I- I should re-fill my flask before we leave.'

Anomen sighed, wishing he had managed to say something before he had left, the group no doubt assuming he had merely stormed off for a sulk. Once the source of such annoyance, he had come to like Fritha's teasing. It had become something she shared with, rather than inflicted upon, him and he liked to hear her laugh, even if it was at his expense. Anomen shook his head. He knew it did not make sense, but he found that those days very few things did.

The river they had been following the day before was chattering brightly, already fast flowing and just waiting to burst its banks once the snow melted, and it was only when he had crouched down that he saw it. At the foot of the stout beech next to him, sheltered from the snows in the lee of the twisting roots, was a tiny red flower. His mother had loved gardening, the small sheltered garth of their Athkatla residence not nearly as large as she would have liked, and the cool forests that bordered their summer house had been much more to her tastes. He could remember the outings with ease, his younger self running ahead of his mother and baby sister as they walked the woodlands collecting wildflowers, before they would finally return to the vineyard to settle on a blanket somewhere in the shade, the day's treasures laid out before them, his mother explaining to him their names and meanings as she'd nursed little Moira, and Anomen recognised the flower before him now.

A Crimson Rhodelia; such a fragile thing to have grown there, especially so late on in the season. He leaned closer, feeling only the slightest regret as he felt the stem snap under his fingers and easing his conscience with the thought that with more snows on the way, it likely would not have survived longer than a few days anyway. He remained crouched and looking at it a moment longer before he decided what to do, searching in his pack to withdraw his prayer book and two scraps of paper. He had seen his mother press flowers enough times as a boy to know what it entailed, the man arranging the flower carefully between the layers of parchment and slipping it inside the heavy pages of his prayer book. Just a moment to fill his flask and he was walking back to camp, Fritha dropping her edge of the canvas she was supposed to be folding with Minsc and bounding over the instant she noticed him.

'Anomen, you're back -are you cross with me?' she asked, not waiting for an answer as she continued hastily, 'Because I am sorry. Properly sorry this time, too -see, I'm not smiling or anything.'

He smiled himself; her concern was rather endearing to see. 'It is fine, my lady, I was not angry.'

Fritha looked instantly relieved.

'Good, because I am sorry. I just saw all that pristine white snow lying on the canvas and I couldn't resist. It never really snowed much in Candlekeep; it was so near the coast. And we were rarely let out to play in it.' She sent him a wry smile, 'I think Gorion thought the temptation of a few dozen stuffy old monks would have been too much for us.'

Anomen raised an eyebrow. 'Well, it certainly proved too much temptation for you.'

'Anomen, really!' she cried, seemingly appalled by his insinuation, though he could hear the laughter in her voice as she went to turn away. 'You're not a monk.'

Anomen fought against a smile. 'Oh, so I am, what was it, my lady, stuffy and old?'

'Certainly not -thirty's not that old.'

'Fritha!'

The girl sent him a grin over her shoulder, giggling away to herself as she returned to helping Minsc fold up the canvas and she was still smiling when they broke camp.

xxx

It was another day of walking, following the gradually narrowing river upstream as they continued their journey into the hills of Umar. Aerie tipped her hood back and shook the small white mound from it before it melted. It was snowing lightly again, the heavy flakes whirling about them to pat softly against the trees and ground before melting away to nothing. Aerie sighed, her breath coming out in a frozen cloud, the elf glancing to the girl next to her. Fritha had started out walking with Minsc, though he had been called to their head to examine some tracks a while ago, she and Aerie had found themselves walking together at the back of the group for a couple of hours now. Fritha was hardly paying attention to their path though, the girl's head back, gazing up at the swirling confetti of white with narrowed eyes.

'It's pretty, isn't it?' she sighed absently, flicking out the tip of her tongue to catch the snowflake that had just landed on her upper lip, 'The way it falls like icy pear blossoms. I wonder if Haer'Dalis ever saw snow before. I know it does not snow in Sigil, but there are plenty of other places on the planes where it might.'

Aerie watched her, Fritha smiling wistfully as she gazed upwards and behind her eyes she could see Haer'Dalis, his face holding the same serene wonder as he gazed upwards with her. Aerie felt the pain twist through her, just managing to stifle her cry to a dry sob, Fritha whipping to her at the sound.

'What is it? Oh, sorry, Aerie, I should not have brought him up -I just thought because you, well, instigated it…'

Fritha trailed off, Aerie fighting back the tears as she cried, 'Oh Fritha, what have I done? I just miss him so much. You were right; I did drive him away. I thought it was him, that he would not open up to me, but I was just using it as an excuse. He was willing to give me everything in the end, but it was I who gave up. I was scared to love him because we were so different -I believed in my heart we'd fail and now we have because I let him go.'

She could not help it, the tears she had been bottling up for so long suddenly streaming down her face- the more she wished to stop, the more she seemed unable. Fritha's hand clasped her shoulder, kind and soothing.

'Come on now, Aerie. It's all right.'

'No, it is not,' she refuted angrily, 'I always knew I had not come to terms with the loss of my wings, always felt that longing in me that could never quite be filled, however much I had. And then I met Haer'Dalis and as I grew to love him and realised his pain mirrored my own, though we held it in much a different view. I felt if I could heal him that somehow my own pain would be lessened -I was almost obsessed with it.' The elf shook her head, despairing of her own follies. 'When I was a slave, thought all I needed was to be free and everything would be better. Then, when it happened I realised it wasn't enough. In my heart, I just wanted everything to return to how it had been when I was at home, in Faenya Dail, but it could not. I tried to move on, I made friends at the circus and then met you and our group and found a love, but- but I had him, had Haer'Dalis and I still wasn't healed. I just needed more or maybe something else. Why wasn't it enough?'

Fritha shook her head, looking sad and lost as to how to help her. 'Aerie, I don't know what to say; only that maybe life isn't as simple as that. We cannot go backward, only forward and you must just accept you are a different person, in a different life and try to find who you are now, not who you were, or who you feel you should be.'

'But how? How can I? How can I be someone new when I was not anyone before? Uncle Quayle was right, I've never had to be my own person. At home, I was the youngest, the baby of the family, spoilt and coddled. Then I was captured by the slavers and though it was very different, I still had all my decisions made for me, I was still kept, still caged. But no longer!' Aerie announced fiercely to the icy world about her, 'I have to move on -from my old life, from my wings, from all of it- and I will walk in world as my own person. I only- I only wish I could have realised this before I lost him,' she swallowed, glancing to Fritha to ask, 'Do- do you think I will ever see Haer'Dalis again?'

The girl shook her head looking forlorn. 'I don't know. I'm sorry, Aerie, but I don't.'

Aerie dipped her face as the tears came once more and perhaps Fritha felt it was needed for she made no attempt to sooth or silence her and they walked on like that for many miles more.

xxx

It snowed long enough for even Fritha to grow tired of it, before finally easing off, the clouds clearing overhead and leaving a bitterness to the air as they at last stopped to make camp in a small clearing on slightly higher ground further up the sides of a densely wooded valley, far enough from the river to negate the risk of flooding should the water levels rise in the night. It was still too warm for the snow to have lain, the entire forest drenched with meltwater and without any dry wood to hand it would have been difficult to start a fire had it not been for Fritha, the girl setting a heap of sodden sticks ablaze with but a glance. Anomen watched her staring into the yellow flames. He had seen her talking with Aerie earlier, and though he was not sure what they had discussed, the pair had been quiet ever since and the elf looked as though she had been crying.

'There is no need for you to go hunting again, Minsc,' said Jaheira, Anomen turning away in time to see the ranger nod once as she continued, the woman struggling to pull the canvas from her pack as she spoke, 'We've still more than enough meat left from yesterday, though this wood will not last for long; a lot more will have to be collect before nightfall and we will need some water too.'

'I'll go,' Fritha trilled. Anomen was at her side before Aerie could speak.

'I shall accompany you, my lady.'

Fritha just smiled, stooping for the cooking pot to amble off through the trees and he followed, catching her easily and moving to take the pot from her, though she held it out of reach with a laugh and told him to behave. They walked on in silence after that, the wet leaves rustling underfoot. The gloom was drawing in about them as they walked deeper down into the valley and it was almost as though they were leaving the world they knew behind them, not even the familiar trill of birdsong to ruin the illusion, the forest silent save for the rhythmic patter of dripping water and their shallow breathing as they walked. Fritha was looking the happiest he'd seen her in days, bundled up against the cold, her cheeks flushed as she led the way. They would be at the stream soon and Anomen felt his hand move unconsciously to his bag, slipping inside to close about the prayer book he knew was within. He had been thinking on it ever since that morning, ever since he had found it: that fragile flower that seemed to have grown against all odds.

'Fritha?' he began, suddenly very aware of himself as he stopped walking and she turned back to him with a mildly interested look.

'Yes?'

'Do- Do you know what this is, my lady?'

Fritha peered at the half-dried bloom he now held, her voice edged with a tone popular when speaking to the very young or the completely stupid. 'It's a flower, Anomen.'

'A Crimson Rhodelia, my lady,' he corrected, taking a step closer to her and trying to swallow past the sudden dryness of his throat, 'a rare find, especially considering the season.'

'You'd best not let Jaheira see you've picked it then,' she laughed. Anomen tried to smile as well, but he felt rather sick.

'The sages tell us it is a flower of vengeance and warriors… but also a flower of- of lovers.'

Fritha stared back at him, her eyes wide and bright as all he had been feeling for as long as he could remember was finally laid plain before her and suddenly she had turned to resume their course, marching briskly through the trees, her laughter hollow and nervous.

'Oh no, no, no, no.'

'Fritha!' he cried, frustrated that she was reacting just as he had feared and having to quicken his pace slightly to catch up to her. 'Fritha!'

'Anomen, no!'

He caught up to her, blocking her path, the girl seemingly torn between retreating and trying to push past him. 'Fritha, please!'

'Oh, Anomen, why this?' she cried despairingly, 'Why now?'

'Fritha, surely, you must have realised!'

He took another step closer and she recoiled, her shoulders meeting the tree behind her, the girl turning her face away as she flushed scarlet.

'We are friends, Anomen!'

'Fritha,' he sighed, still trying to catch her eye, 'I am in love with you.'

'You what? In love?' she breathed, turning back to him, a bemused scowl suddenly knitting her brow, 'No, you're not - don't be silly!'

Anomen drew back, stung. 'My intention was not to appear foolish, my lady.'

Fritha just shook her head, looking flustered. 'And how can you appear otherwise? Pitching up here, telling me you're suddenly in love with me.'

'It was not sudden! I- I have held a deep regard for you for an age now. I was so desperate to tell you of it, but I could never find the moment. And now -now I love you, Fritha, and I cannot bear to have it pressing on me any longer without speaking of it to you!'

Fritha looked deeply uncomfortable, holding the pot up before her as though it could somehow shield her from his confession, her façade of asperity not quite masking her discomfort.

'Yes, well you've told me now, and very nicely too, but I cannot return these… feelings you have so, I'm sorry, but there you are.'

'That is it?' he exclaimed, struggling with his temper as his voice began to rise, 'You would refuse me, without offering any explanation as to your reasoning, and I must just put aside all that I have been feeling for- for months now?'

She nodded mildly. 'Yes, if you would.'

Her tone was calm, patronising even, and he knew she was trying to rile him further; a proper fight and all this would just be an painful memory, never again to be revisited. Anomen swallowed his anger -he was damned if he would let her. His silence appeared to be making her anxious, the girl shifting nervously, as an animal who had been cornered but still held hopes of a snatched escape, her manner quite at odds with her matter-of-fact tone.

'Look, I'm sorry, Anomen, I really am, but with everything that's happening now and, well, everything, I cannot give you any other answer and that is that. Go on back to the camp, I shall fetch the water alone and rejoin you all soon.'

She shooed him slightly, turning to leave and he slammed an arm against the tree to block her escape, using her moment of surprise to press the flower into her unresisting hand and bringing both of his around to cup it.

'I can understand that you may find what I say difficult to accept, but it is the truth and if my words alone cannot convince you, I must set to doing so with actions.'

Barely a moment to take in her horrified expression and he'd kissed their gloved hands, released her, and was walking back to camp, a loud curse and the hollow clang of an iron pot being hurled against an unlucky tree drifting after him.

xxx

Jaheira poked at the embers in the firepit before her, the flames flaring brightly as air stirred through it and she threw the stick onto them with a sigh. She did not know what was worse: being ambushed by the people she had once called allies, or those long periods in between, just waiting for the next attack. The crash of undergrowth sounded at her back, though loud enough not to worry her -no ambush was ever so blatant. And sure enough, Anomen appeared moments later, red-faced and quite alone. Jaheira had straightened in an instant.

'Anomen, where is Fritha?'

'I have been dismissed,' he snorted, looking cross and somehow flustered as he raked a hand through his short brown hair, 'She says she will collect the water herself.'

'Should she not be alone!'

'Well, be assured, she did not wish to be with me!' Anomen retorted, his anger dissipating as he sighed, the man looking suddenly tired, 'Could someone go and join her please?'

Minsc nodded, rising from his place at the fire and clapping a reassuring hand on the knight's shoulder as he passed him. 'Worry not. Minsc and Boo will go and fetch her.'

Jaheira shook her head, turning back to the fire with a disgruntled sigh, the man at her side sending her a kind smile, Cernd's mellow voice low.

'You heard Minsc: do not worry, Jaheira.'

The woman shot him a dark look. 'I am not worried, I am angry,' she hissed, 'Idiot girl! She knows of the dangers and yet she insists on behaving so irresponsibly –and more fool the boy for heeding her!' she added, glowering at the man opposite though Anomen hardly noticed, now staring into the flames as she had been, looking flushed and out of sorts.

'Come now,' soothed Cernd quietly, plainly trying not to smile, 'it is clear they have had some sort of disagreement and Minsc is with her now; no harm has been done.'

Jaheira swallowed, her anger not enough to distract her from the guilt she felt as she considered why such precautions were necessary. 'I just- I could never forgive myself if something happened to her.'

Cernd said nothing, though his grey eyes held a certain understanding as he laid a hand over hers, pressing it firmly, and he held it there until the last two of their company finally arrived back.

'There you are!' Cernd called out with a friendly smile, perhaps to show the girl there was no reprimand there waiting for her return. 'We thought you had drowned yourself.'

Fritha grinned, her eyes hard above it, holding up a thumb and forefinger. 'This close.'

Behind her, Minsc shifted awkwardly where he stood.

'There,' Fritha continued, stepping forward to set the pot of water next to the druid, 'it's already hot.'

'Well, that was very, ah, thoughtful of you, Fritha,' Cernd faltered, the girl already turned away from him, moving to settle on her bedding next to Aerie, the elf sending her an absent nod, the two sat side by side and staring into the fire in companionable silence with the air of defeated comrades. The druid turned to send Jaheira a pointed look, the woman joining him at the fire and between them they set up the tripod and added the leftover meat to the already steaming water, Cernd finally stooping to hang the pot over the fire, a slight frown creasing his brow as he examined the iron bowl.

'Is- is that a dent?'

Shrill giggling erupted from across the fire. Fritha, her head thrown back as she laughed despairingly at the darkened sky, unmindful of their stares and Jaheira shook her head. It was going to be a long evening.

xxx

It was late on in the afternoon, the forest and another day of walking behind them. They had finally left the shelter of the woodlands at about noon, the forests retreating further up the mountainside, and the last few hours had been spent walking a rocky outcrop that skirted the foothills they were heading towards, the plains and valleys of Umar stretching southwards beneath them. Jaheira let her gaze drift to the west. There had been no more snows that day, the clear sky stained a dark palette of orange and magenta as the sun sank behind the hills. It was beautiful up there, the bitter wind against her face giving her an uplifting sense of freedom and she shared a smile with the ranger next to her. Minsc may not have been the wisest of men, but their innate appreciation of such things had proved to be a bond between them time and time again. They would have to stop to make camp again soon, but she wanted to try and reach the foothills before it became too dark and they were close enough now to make it worth chancing.

Jaheira glanced behind her, glad to see that the group seemed to bearing up well after a long day of walking, despite the cold weather. Fritha was bringing up the rear alone, a pointed distance between her and Anomen and Jaheira suspected that whatever they had argued about the day before was still hanging between them. She turned back sharply as Minsc landed a firm hand upon her shoulder, the whole group brought to a halt as he pointed to the forest next to them, the roughly hewn gable of a roof just visible through the trees. The ranger went on alone to scout ahead, returning with a description of a small cabin, not as dilapidated as some of the others had been, the sound of someone chopping wood echoing from somewhere behind it.

Fritha deployed them with no more than a glance and a gesture, Anomen Jaheira and Aerie sent around one side, Fritha drawing her sword as she led Minsc and Cernd around the other. Their approach was cautious and he did not see them at first, the man absorbed in his work, setting each log upon the tree stump he was using as a block to split them with a familiarity that did not much marry with his noble title. He was powerfully built, the muscles fluid under his dark skin as he swung the axe, the short braids of his wiry black hair dancing with the movement. He looked stern, from the neatly cropped beard to the almost permanent frown he wore as he worked. This man on whom so much rested and Fritha's face was pale in her anticipation, though her voice did not betray it.

'Valygar Corthala?'

He started and looked instantly angry with himself, and Jaheira could see him quickly calculating his chances as he glanced about at them, hefting the axe expressively as one who knew how to use it for more than just splitting firewood.

'So, more Cowled ones, or their servants at least; I swear you'll not live to take me back to those damn Wizards!'

'Now, come quietly,' reasoned Fritha sternly, 'the odds are against you and we will not kill you unless you force us.'

'Ha! I would rather die than be used by those Wizards, as well they know.'

Used? So there was more to this than the mages had led them to believe and Jaheira could see the same thought flickering behind Fritha's eyes. The man had been more than martial in his approach so far and the druid could tell from his stance that he would volunteer no more by way of explanations. All they would have to do was attack and the path to Imoen would finally be clear, and Jaheira did not like to contemplate how close Fritha had been to doing just that before the girl sighed deeply.

'What are you talking about?' Fritha questioned dully, her sword already resignedly lowered, 'You did kill two of their number, did you not?'

Valygar nodded once, broad forehead furrowed as though he was not expecting this sudden shift towards leniency.

'That I did, but only when they left me no choice. I was researching something of… family interest. How the Cowled Wizards found out about it I do not know, but their curiosity was piqued as well. I was approached by them and when I refused their offer they took me by force. I will not be a tool by which the greedy and corrupt merely grow more powerful. I escaped in the battle that saw two of them dead and fled the city.'

'You're speaking of the sphere aren't you?' Fritha confirmed. The man's dark eyes were suddenly wide.

'How do you know of that?' he demanded fiercely.

Fritha smiled; it looked sad. 'You led us on quite the hunt to find you,' she pushed her hand into her bag to withdraw a familiar black tome, 'We took this from your house on the docks.'

Valygar almost dropped his axe. 'Lavok's diary! Arvind said they were forced to burn everything.'

'Yes, well, we found it before they could. I've been flicking through it when I've had the time; the diagrams seem to show some sort of planar travelling device.'

Valygar nodded, looking wary. 'That is so. It was by that diary I learnt of the rituals for summoning the sphere back to the Prime. I spent months translating it, though I fear my notes now will be little more than ash.'

'But why take the time to translate it in the first instance?' questioned Anomen, 'You said yourself you did not want the Wizards to obtain the sphere. Or is that because you merely desire its powers for yourself?'

Valygar looked livid by the mere suggestion of it. 'I want nothing of that sphere! My ancestor, Lavok, was- is a necromancer of a power equalled only by his evil! Half our family lies dead because of him! Those surviving took an oath to end his twisted life. But Lavok built the sphere and disappeared centuries ago and our vow was thought in vain. Then I came upon his diary and within it a way to summon him back to this plane. The Cowled Wizards discovered this, of course -it is nigh on impossible to keep anything remotely arcane secret from those jackals in that city. They desired the power of the sphere themselves -the risk to this plane should Lavok escape a minor inconvenience. I knew then I would just have to settle for my life, I could not risk them reaching their goal and loosing his evil on the Prime once more. I escaped the city and I ordered the diary be destroyed, my family's oath to continue unanswered. And now here you stand, diary in one hand, blade for me in the other.' He smiled bitterly, 'How the gods mock me!'

'So what do you propose?' asked Fritha quietly.

He ran a critical eye over them, narrowed and distrustful, though perhaps he felt the risk outweighed the opportunity for after a moment he spoke.

'Well, if you do not plan to kill me now, perhaps I could join with your company and together we can return, call the sphere and end Lavok's evil forever. As payment you can have any of the treasures you find inside the sphere; none of it interests me and the Cowled Wizards cannot have offered you any more for my head.'

Jaheira felt her heart groan, but Fritha merely nodded once.

'It is agreed then. We will make for Imnesvale and then head back to the city from there. If we could stay the night here?'

Valygar dipped his head in the briefest hint of a nod. 'Of course.'

'Good. If you will excuse me a moment.'

A sweep of cloak, a rasp of gravel and Fritha was gone.

She walked until there was no more ground to walk upon, just dropping to her knees as she reached the edge of the cliff, the rolling hills of Umar stretching out before her, all aflame under the dying sun. Her hands seemed to move without a thought from her, sliding gently through the layers of her bag to close about her journal, flicking through the pages to withdraw a folded square of parchment.

She did not open the letter, she knew well enough what it said, the long buried secrets of a man already dead by the time she had read it, and it was kept only as a tangible anchor for her many evanescent memories, her own name written upon the front in that familiar scrolling hand, all she had left of the man she had once called father. But that was all past now, sad but accepted, and it was her future that was the true source of her grief.

Poor Imoen… how long would she be a prisoner in that cage?

Fritha snorted. And how long would she be a prisoner in that life? She had been so close to getting Imoen back, to winning back freedom for them both and now she was right back where she had been when they had first returned from Trademeet. Still over ten thousand gold yet to find, only now she had enemies in the vampires and Harpers both, and she was about to add the Cowled Wizards to that inauspicious list -the trick would not be rescuing Imoen, but living long enough even to make the attempt.

Fritha shook her head. She did not want to cry, she was not sad, all her misery boiling away in her anger at the deep injustice of it all. She slipped the letter back between the pages, her fingers brushing against something crisp and whispery, like raffia, and she looked down to see it, bright against the yellowing pages: a small red flower.

It was the one Anomen had given her, its time in the back of her diary allowing finally finish its pressing, and she could not for the life of her fathom why she had even kept the thing. It was dry and frail in her fingers and in that moment she wanted nothing more than to crush it. To destroy it so wholly it was no more than dust and with it could go her feelings; all the hope and longing and bitter disappointment. And then she could sleep. Just lay down there and sleep, until the snows came to cover her and she was gone from the world.

Perhaps you can just surrender to the next group of Harpers then?

Fritha felt her whole body convulse, the 'No!' physically rippling through her. She did not want that! And though it was a hollow comfort at least then she knew in her heart that it was better to struggle on and ache and live, than just to give up and let herself fade away. She sensed someone approaching, but did not turn round, she knew who it would be and sat, silent, waiting for the woman to speak.

'You know we made the right decision.'

Fritha made no answer and after a moment Jaheira continued anyway. 'We are halfway to earning enough coin to pay the Shadow Thieves and Imoen would not wish to be rescued that way.'

Wouldn't she?

Imoen was her best friend and Fritha loved her, but it did not make her blind to the fact that the girl could have a bit of a selfish streak when she wanted. Still, Jaheira was right; Imoen would not want an innocent man to have to die because of her. And besides, Fritha did not want to rescue her that way, so whatever Imoen thought on the matter was rather irrelevant.

Jaheira waited again for an answer though with little hope of getting one and in that moment she wished she had not come. Wished she had just shuffled into the cabin with the others to wait. And after a while Fritha would have returned, red-eyed and smiling just as she always did, all full of talk and enthusiasm for their plans and their guest, and Jaheira could have just pretended that everything was fine. But everything was not fine and, in truth, she could barely stand to look at the girl at the moment, because all she saw when she did was someone struggling to stay afloat in a sea of troubles, troubles she had so neatly dropped her in.

Jaheira forced herself to glance down at Fritha again, the girl knelt before her, all her focus on the small dried flower she was twirling between her fingers with a distracted melancholy.

'What is that?'

'A flower of vengeance apparently,' Fritha snorted, slipping it back into her journal and returning both to her bag, 'and kept to serve as a reminder that revenge can take many forms.'

Ah… The squire's infatuation was no longer a secret it seemed. Jaheira watched her, hoping to read some clue as to how the girl felt from her manner, but nothing could be discovered and Jaheira wondered if Fritha even knew herself. The druid sighed. 'He told you, did he not?'

The girl nodded dully. 'Yes. How long have you known?'

Jaheira shrugged. 'About a month.'

Fritha sighed, casting her gaze out beyond the burning hills.

'No good will come of it.'

'It never does.'

A silence fell over them. A bird somewhere in the forest behind them was heralding the dusk and Jaheira wondered how she had failed to hear its piping song before.

'Oh, why does he have to like me?' Fritha burst out with sudden frustration, 'I'm all silly and irritating and- and short!'

'Is that how you see yourself?'

'No, but I had a pretty good feeling that was how he saw me.'

Jaheira snorted at her sullen humour. 'Well, clearly it is not so, either that or annoying young women of a diminutive stature are what he values in a lover.'

'Lover,' the girl repeated in a strangled voice, her face going a shade of pink that could have rivalled the sunset, 'Gods, don't even say it! The mere word makes me feel uncomfortable.'

Jaheira sighed. It was easy to forget how young Fritha was sometimes and how very sheltered her life had been until just earlier that year. And though she was just as willing to giggle and chatter about boys as any other girl, it was always borne just as any other game, to be won and lost, yes, but not something to fret over seriously.

And perhaps, Jaheira considered, that was the way you had to play it, when those you pinned your affections upon were either driven away by your bloody existence or died helping you survive it. Love just a playful throwaway thing, like the brightly coloured beads and thin dyed scarves Fritha was always so delighted by when they wandered Amn's many markets and Jaheira was pretty sure that however Anomen had presented his case, it was unlikely to have been like that.

'Well, we shall just have to raise another ten thousand then,' the girl beneath her sighed, dusting off her knees as she straightened, 'Come on, we shouldn't be making our fugitive any more wary.'

xxx

The cabin was all shadows, the only light from the flames that were licking and flickering in the fireplace, illuminating the seven figures sat before it in a uneven half-circle, the dusty floorboards just visible in patches here and there in amongst the carpet of bedding. Valygar took a long draft of the hot tea. It was pleasant to taste a Kara-Turan blend after so long drinking the plain bark teas he had been brewing himself, though he never would have admitted as much. The meal they had shared had been a fare he was much more used to, a plain soup of dried meats and pulses and the heavy dark rye waybread he was more than familiar with.

He took another drink of tea, eyes drifting over the cabin that had been his home for more than a fortnight now. He had come upon the place when investigating what turned out to be spurious rumours of the Umar Witch in those hills a year or so ago, he and in his group of the time sheltering there a night. It had likely been a fur-trappers cabin, though disused for what looked to have been at least a decade, probably from when the over-hunting of the local wolves sent them further into foothills. But the building itself was still solid for this neglect and he recalled noting at the time that it seemed a good place to remember for future use, basic though it was, that main room empty of any furniture to speak of, filled instead with rusted traps, bundles of rope and racks, an old wooden sledge rotting in the corner, and Valygar knew the sole bedroom was little better.

A lull seemed to have fallen over them since their meal, everyone taking tea in a silence that was slowly becoming more uncomfortable as time passed and when the druid, Jaheira asked him to continue his tale, he had no refusal to make.

'My ancestor, the necromancer, Lavok, built the sphere and disappeared in it over five hundred years ago. Ever since the Cowled Wizards learnt of its existence, they have wanted its secrets. I have shared with them none of the knowledge I gleaned from the diary but they have theorised, and I regret correctly, that the sphere will be called back to this plane by the presence of my blood along with the proper rituals.'

'That is why wanted him dead or alive,' muttered Jaheira. Valygar nodded.

'Yes. They tried to take me by force when I refused to aid them willingly and I fled the city. I had hidden away here -successfully I thought, until you arrived.'

'But how can Lavok still be alive?' questioned the elf -Aerie, as the others had called her, though the fact she was a mage was what had truly snared his attention. Valygar shrugged, trying to keep his manner neutral even if it could not be friendly.

'When he left this plane he was already centuries old; Lavok used his necromancy, stealing the essence of other blood relatives, to extend his life. I am the last of the Corthala line.'

The young knight, Anomen, frowned. 'But this Lavok has been gone for five hundred years, surely you cannot attribute all their deaths to him.'

'Not to him directly, but his legacy was my family's downfall,' Valygar answered after a pause, unsure of how much he wished to reveal to those who he had only just met. 'We have been cursed, for want of a better word, with an unusual aptitude for magic, the power slowly but inevitably corrupting each member as it is wont to do. I was the only one who turned my back upon my heritage and the only one who has survived. I devoted my life and my skills to hunting those mages who have fallen to corruption -recompense, if you like, for never being able to deal with Lavok.'

'Is that how you met Arvind and Sangeeta?' asked Fritha with an unusually incisive look and for a moment she was there before him, glossy black hair escaping its ties to fall across her face as it often would, shading those angled green eyes as she caught him with that penetrating gaze, as though his soul was suddenly laid bare before her.

'Yes,' Valygar managed finally, taking another sip of tea to loosen his dry throat, 'Amn is a place where such corruption is not only accepted but encouraged, the Cowled Wizards' a law unto themselves. As a group we made our base in Eshpurta, though we travelled all over Amn and on occasion beyond, ending the existence of those who believed that arcane power set them above morality and laws. Then, last autumn, rumours reached us of a small group of powerful mages who had discovered a long buried tomb of arcane power in a cave network in the Troll Mountains, enslaving one of the nearby gnomish villages to work on excavating the site. Further investigations seemed to confirm this and we travelled to the site ourselves to put an end to their evil. It was not until too late we realised the trap.

'There were no slaves, no ancient ruins, though the mages were real enough. They had heard of our work about Amn and decided to put an end to it. They were more than prepared too, the mages and their apprentices allying themselves with the trolls of that cave. Though we were skilled in fighting such enemies, we were outnumbered and outmanoeuvred it was a slaughter, the ensuing battle claiming the lives of the mages and most of our company as well. Only myself, Arvind, Sangeeta and few of the others survive. Broken, we parted ways and I had returned home to Athkatla to my family's old estate when I found it. I had believed all my mother's books of that nature destroyed, when I discovered the diary in one of the attics. When I realised what I had found, knew it could be the chance our family had been waiting for to fulfil our vow to end Lavok's evil for good. I made contact with my old group and they rallied to assist me. They risked much to help me research this lead and we had plans even for them to accompany me in Lavok's defeat, though that was before I was discovered by the Wizards. But perhaps it is better that you came upon me as you did -they were capable warriors and loyal friends both, but they are not of your skills and they have risked too much for me already. But,' Valygar continued, feeling he had done more than enough speaking for one usually so taciturn, 'my reasons you know much of. I know little of your own. Most mercenaries would require a lot more gold to turn coat on the Cowled Wizards.'

'Never would we work willingly for such evil men as they!' the Rashemi, Minsc stated boldly, 'That they would send us after an innocent man -why Boo's fur bristles in his outrage!'

'Indeed,' nodded the grey-haired Cernd, 'It could be said we were misinformed as to the nature of the assignment, namely your innocence. Our agreement with them is void.'

Valygar raised a cool eyebrow. 'I doubt they will see it as such. They may seek retribution for this betrayal.'

Fritha snorted. 'They can join the queue.'

Next to her Jaheira sighed, hastening to explain, 'I fear you are not the only one among us being hunted unjustly. Fritha and I are currently being pursued by the Harpers.'

'The Harpers?' Valygar repeated, suddenly wondering if this group he had allied himself with were not so moral as they had first made out; they had agreed to work for the Cowled Wizards, after all. The ranger made no attempt to hide his suspicions either, his eyes narrowed as he questioned, 'Why would a group dedicated to the good of Faerûn have cause to hunt two simple mercenaries?''

Jaheira frowned, though she looked more pained than insulted by his insinuation.

'There was… a misunderstanding, a corrupt few poisoning the opinions of the whole against us. They tried to imprison Fritha and when we refused to co-operate, matters ended in bloodshed.'

'And what did you do to earn their ire in the first instance?'

The druid faltered.

'Oh, let's just tell him; I don't care,' came Fritha impatiently, the girl turning to him to add, 'It's because I'm a Bhaalspawn.'

'A Bhaalspawn?'

'One of the Children, yes,' the knight corrected subtly, 'We have all travelled with her months now, some of our number even longer -you could not meet someone more devoted to the service of good,' he added fervently, earning a scowl from the girl herself.

Valygar made no reply to this, merely turning back to Fritha. 'You admit such very freely.'

She just shrugged. 'Well, the rest of Amn probably knows by now; I don't see why you should be the only one left in the dark.' She finished her tea and clapped the cup down upon the floorboards with a sound clunk. 'Now, on to far more important matters. If we leave here tomorrow, we should be able to reach Imnesvale in two days and from there-'

'Should we set out tomorrow?' Valygar cut in as politely as one ever could, 'Though supplies are scarce, I wonder if it would be better to remain here. The longer I am in civilisation, the greater the risk the Wizards will discover our alliance and I will need time to translate Lavok's diary once more. I have no resources here, though I may be able to get message to Arvind-'

'No need for that,' interrupted Fritha blithely, 'I can read it.'

'You can read it?' repeated Valygar, 'Just like that?'

Fritha nodded. 'Oh, yes. It's written in Loross; half the books back home were written in the same. Well, maybe a quarter,' she corrected absently, 'Netherese was pretty popular too. As was Aragrakh, though I've forgotten most of what I've learnt of that by now. I must get back into it at some point, before it's all lost to me.' She shook herself, turning back to him, 'Anyway, my Loross is still pretty much intact, I'm sure it will be fine.'

She was smiling mildly at him, as though she did not realise or did not care how odd she seemed. Valygar nodded once.

'Indeed, I see no reason, then, not to return to the city as soon as possible.'

'And with that in mind,' added Jaheira 'perhaps we would be wise to bed down for the night.'

Valygar unfolded his blankets, arranging them loosely over the furs he would sleep upon. He had laid out his bedding a good distance from the others and the fireplace they were gathered about, his own bed but a stride from the front door, though if anyone had noted as much, no comment was made. The ranger reached out a hand to drag his bag within arm's reach too. He had not unpacked since arriving there, days though it had been, the feeling never quite leaving him that he may need to depart in a hurry. He turned his back to the others, his body shielding the movement from view as he dipped his hand into the top to fetch out his leather-sheathed hunting knife, Valygar secreting it in amongst his blankets. It felt unpleasant to take such precautions and yet it seemed unwise not to. After all, they had been willing to kill him for the Wizards but hours ago. And yet it could all be for naught anyway, this whole charade of switching alliances merely a pretence to lure him back to city without a fight.

He glanced back to the others, checking whether anyone had noticed this transfer, but they were all seemingly occupied in bedding down, Jaheira banking up the fire, while the knight, Anomen seemed to be offering Fritha a place closer to the hearth, the girl turning from him with a dull shake of her head.

Valygar turned back to his own bedding, no more preparations to make, though he did not wish to be the first to lie down, the man deeply aware of and uncomfortable with the vulnerability of his situation.

'Trust is for the brave, ne,' trilled a voice behind his eyes, warm with the smile that had so often shone upon him. Valygar shook the thought and the voice away, no wish for the memories to follow him as he at last lay down and closed his eyes for a restless sleep.