A/N: I'm not dead! Sorry if I made you think otherwise!
To all my wonderful readers – thank you, for support, appreciation, reviewing, alerting, pm-ing and all the stuff even during my absence. For your patience most of all. Hope a long chapter will make up for the delay.
XXVII: Personal Touch
There was always plenty of spiders in the Mere. Bony fidgety creatures, they favoured moist earthy caves in the shadows of the swamp, making their nests, breeding their offsprings and setting around thick sticky webs to hold back the lizardlings' hunters, not wishing for their body parts to become primitive adornments and weapons. Arachnids never ventured as far as to threaten human settlements, smart enough to figure that the game was not worth the candle, and attacked only those who trespassed on the territory considered theirs.
Still, when being old (or careless) enough to sometimes sneak away into the Mere all by herself, Adele used to come across their remains not far from West Harbour, mostly youngsters who probably appeared to be just as careless and curious as their half-elven neighbour. They were brought down by militia patrols, their angular carcasses left lying off the beaten paths, looking strangely vulnerable.
Adele had usually taken time to drag their corpses away from the path and bury them in the depths of the swamp. The mere thought of somebody stepping on those fragile shells, crashing them, hurting them, even the dead ones, was dreadful to her.
Now, as she brought her foot down to squash the head of a glowing arachnid, those sudden memories seemed like one Hells of a cruel irony.
Yep, people change.
"Del, behind you! No! Another behind!"
She hurled around on her heels, the walls of the cave and figures of her companions swirling in one blurred tide of grayish-pink in her darkvision, and swished the blade on impulse without even seeing the threat yet. It caught the small spider's thin forelegs, cutting through them right at the joints, and the creature stumbled, with a screech falling off the wall to the damp earth. Without hesitation Adele drove her weapon down, piercing the gleaming round belly, but somehow the crawler managed to conjure up a spell, and a jolt of electrical shock rushed up the rapier straight into her arm, seizing her muscles and clamping up her teeth. Adele staggered backwards, spitting a curse, and kicked the arachnid into the wall with enough force to crack its body, insides spilling out in greasy dribble.
Focus.
It was all she had done. Focused. To some extent, it helped, cutting down her contemplations and worries only to what was going on around her. It was a weakness Adele allowed herself to enjoy. People of Ember were still cold and dead, Marcus' words still nagged her somewhere in the back of her mind, but at least she had an excuse to shove those brambles away for the time. And focus.
On spiders. Many-many glowing spiders.
Someone out there really has it in for me.
Forcing her partly paralyzed limbs back under control, she nodded her thanks to Neeshka quickly, then rushed past Sand, his lips and hands moving in unison weaving a spell what seemed like right from the air, past Bishop sending arrows into spiders that made perfect marks of themselves with their glowing in the darkness, and sent her blade in a low dive into the junction between the head and the back of another arachnid. Ahead of her Khelgar and Grobnar took full advantage of their height and easy reach, making short work out of the little pests. But even with their number notably reduced by Qara's raining fire, the spiders still swamped the floor and the walls of the cave.
It was bad enough they had bumped into the giant spider on their way back, after already being sure the caves had been cleaned of the glowing spell-casting monsters (and reporting so to the goblins who had asked for that in the first place). But the spider appeared to be pregnant to the pile, and the mortal chop of a dwarven axe that split its abdomen also sent hundreds of shiny eight-legged kiddies flooding out of their mommy's belly, every one the size of a good healthy puppy, already crackling with magic and fully intending to destroy anybody standing in the path of their just-received lives.
Never before had Adele heard Khelgar mustering such colourful oaths as the moment all the loads of spiders showered on him.
Planting her boot into the back of another arachnid, Adele flatted it, hearing Neeshka choking between a shriek and a giggle as the tiefling whirled to avoid the spiders and bringing them down at the same time. Adele felt she was starting to snicker as well. Really, the whole macabre abhorrence of what was happening appeared so hellish it was almost hysterical.
Noticing another bunch of pests near the wall, the woman darted there - but was stopped by an arm wrapping around her midsection, jerking her backwards with force that nearly knocked all the air out of her. Before she could come round to comprehend what was happening, a dazzling bolt of magic sizzled the air just through the spot she had been standing on the moment before, and Adele stumbled away even more, momentarily blinded, until her back crashed into the all-too-familiar chest, eliciting a displeased grunt from its owner.
"Watch it, princess," Bishop growled softly into her ear as his hold around her tightened, steadying her on her feet. "I might get it wrong."
She squinted, white spots fading in her eyes, to find out that Sand's spell had put an end to the most of the spiders, and Khelgar was quite successfully trampling down the remaining ones, still cursing vividly. Seeing that her help was no longer needed, Adele took a deep breath and finally let herself go, the laughter bubbling out of her chest so hard her knees went weak, and she had to lean back on Bishop not to fall over.
"Well now," his voice sounded amused this time, and Adele felt his palm coming higher, lingering just above her scar, above her heart beating so frantically it was surely close to breaking through her ribs and falling out straight into his hand. His fingers tapped over the leather of her jerkin in tact with her pulse. "Someone's high on bloodbath again, eh?"
"A little," Adele chuckled coldly, squirming out of his grasp before it became too bold. "But don't get overly excited."
Oh, she was still mad at him alright – but even more so she was mad at herself for letting him and all the crap that had fallen out of his mouth back at Ember get under her skin. And after the previous spider-mess, seeing his arrows rarefy the ranks of arachnids, she had to admit, albeit begrudgingly, that his usefulness outshone his assholeness after all.
Is 'assholeness' even a word? Or should it be 'assness'?
Adele snorted another laugh. She was high, no denying that, high on finally getting an opportunity to reach and destroy at least something, on regaining at least some sort of control – even if that control was only over her blade, her hand, the battlefield and her damned life.
Though, it wasn't really that little, was it?
"Shit!" Neeshka angrily shoved away a root dangling from the ceiling of the cave that nearly slapped her face, probably leaving a feeling too much like a touch of another spider. The tiefling's eyes shone red as she scanned the darkness around for any signs of surviving arachnids. "Seems like all of them?"
"Don't see any," Khelgar announced from his spot deeper in the tunnel, his rumbling voice a bit too loud for safety. Adele didn't even have to look to sense Bishop flinch at that.
Soon enough the dwarf himself came closer, wiping his bald head and beard from the slime and pieces of web, and glared at Sand of all people:
"Thought 'tis jest a firehead we had to watch out for," he grumbled. "What's wrong with ya, mages, firin' yer spells everywhere?"
Adele expected the wizard to cut Khelgar off as efficiently as everyone and always, but instead the wizard simply whispered:
"I hate spiders."
The woman shook her head, stifling a smile. Funny that after everything they had already witnessed, it took merely some crawlers to make her immaculate composed lawyer lose his temperance. As the elf glanced uneasily around the cave, slender fingers trembling visibly by his sides, Adele had a distinct impression he considered scurrying off any moment. Only now, seeing his illness, did she think that Duncan was probably aware of Sand's phobia when making a joke that she was free to send the wizard into spider-dens in search for clues.
Evil-evil uncle.
"Oh please, and who loves 'em?" Neeshka snorted, trying to reach for the back of her shoulder to scratch it. One of the spiders had actually managed to get at the rogue's back, forcing her to flat her torso against the wall of the cave to squash it. Not the most pleasant of feelings, at any rate. "…Grobnar aside, he loves everyone."
The gnome jerked his head, both in protest and to shake out the dust from his hair. "I must say it's hard to be fond of those trying to kill me, hard even for me."
"What, they aren't even fascinating?" the tiefling widened her eyes in innocent surprise.
Grobnar frowned, actually considering, then shrugged: "Well, in a sense, yes, they are. I always thought it to be peculiar, how they manage to operate eight limbs so smoothly – I mean, humanoids at times stumble and tangle in two legs, what it must mean to have eight of them!"
"Right, let's stand right here all day and think about that," Qara stamped her staff into the ground pointedly, resting free hand on her hip. "Since we have no idea where we are at all, why not waste time counting legs, really!"
"Why, I know where we are," Grobnar beamed.
"Just try and say that we are in a cave – and you are dead."
"Wherever we are, there's only one way to go – forward," Adele shrugged, moving towards them and trying her best not to pay attention how the ground under her feet crunched with dead spiders. She raised her free hand, keeping it in front of her in advance and pushing away the vegetation that weaved its tricky way above their heads, and strewed dust and bits of earth generously at every disturbance. Judging from the thickness of roots they were moving under Duskwood already. Or, at least, Adele wanted to hope of that. "If goblins are to be believed, we should be able to get to the surface somewhere not far from the Grove. And seeing that we are already marching for good two hours, it won't be long."
"'If goblins are to be believed'," Qara repeated in a slow sarcastic drawl, following the woman and straining her eyes at the darkness ahead, obviously still not totally over the fact they had been helping goblins at all. "Goblins are vermin. And these goblins built a sanctuary over a shiny stone, so they are also crazy. To believe them takes some special kind of stupid."
Adele smiled. "I'll accept your apologies later, once we end up in Duskwood."
"Right," the sorceress sniffed. "Wait and hope."
"Don't I always?"
Qara didn't answer, shaking her head ruefully, and Adele's smile widened. At least the girl was surely coming back to her usual self. Was doing it in way too vigorous steps, perhaps, but the woman could understand her need to compensate for the weakness.
Not that she personally minded goblins. Not that she had ever met them at all until now, and anyone would have admitted that for the first acquaintance with the race she got a lucky card. Much better than with orcs, anyway. It was probably just some trick of her mind, looking for a way out of horrors of Ember, but coming down from the destroyed village littered with dead and running into a small secluded community of green-skinned creatures, with their small rusty weapons, suspicious glances and broken Common, left her grinning all the way like a fool who had just witnessed the cutest thing ever. And when the chieftain proclaimed that they had actually managed to kill one of the Luskans escaping from Ember, Adele felt like sweeping all of the clan into a huge embrace, dance with them away into the sunset and make slow tender love to every one of them on some faraway picturesque riverbank in the gleams of fading golden rays.
Really, she would have got rid of the spiders besieging them even without a price.
But the price was. A small metal ring, unremarkable in general, but with a familiar weave of daggers adorning the signet. Circle of Blades. Sand had swooped at it like a hawk, another piece in his puzzle, so Adele left it to him. Not without personal benefit, since it took a bunch of his attention away from her – she still had an uneasy feeling that the wizard marked her reaction towards Marcus' description of the butcher of Ember.
…Which is stupid. Can't be anything but that.
Adele chased the thought away, keeping her eyes at the tunnel in vain attempt to leave behind her qualms, her tiredness, her spine that hurt from all the walking and fighting and her feet growing numb in cold wet boots. It was Khelgar who led the way, but still she felt obliged to look out for dangers as well.
After all, their sharp-eyed tracker was merely a human – thus here, in the darkness, he was as good as blind.
I bet at moments like this you wish you've been at least 'not fully an elf', too, ranger, - she thought with no small amount of gloating delight, shooting a quick glance over her shoulder.
Delight didn't last for long. Even without a possibility to see, Bishop still didn't leave an impression of being blind. He never missed a step, somehow wholly aware of his surroundings, just appeared a bit more tense than usual. His sixth sense didn't fail him either, as it took him just a moment to feel someone's watching him, and, even without seeing her, he turned his head to face the woman. Adele barely managed to turn away, on impulse, without realizing it wasn't really necessary.
Gods, Delly, it's like you are playing hide-and-seek with yourself.
She smiled grimly, giving her head a slow shake, and sighed, suddenly feeling that the ranger's alertness left her strangely relieved.
Now when in the Nine Hells have I become so dependent on his perception?
Wincing at the thought, she chose to stare back at Khelgar and the way forward. The tunnel seemed to become narrower with every step, and Adele had to wonder if it wouldn't turn to a needle-eye somewhere ahead. Surely goblins weren't lying about a way out - but to think of it, their understanding of a suitable passage could be much smaller than that of their 'guests'.
Yet, much to Adele's joy, the ceiling dove upwards, and the burrow widened to a grotto, deliciously airy after the stuffy narrow walkway.
Khelgar grunted, coming to a halt, and looked back at the woman, grinning:
"Firehead ain't gonna like it."
Adele came up to his side and cursed under her breath, running her eyes between the leading-out tunnels.
Three of them, to be precise.
Suddenly, all she wanted was to sit down. Slump her back against the wall, rest her head there, stretch out her legs, and simply sit. Perhaps, have a drink. Not necessarily something strong, just liquid. Close her eyes. Tightly. And be deaf.
It actually took several moments to overcome the desire, but she managed.
"Your bet?" Adele asked Khelgar quietly, relying on his dwarven sense of underground or something. The best she could offer was an 'eeny, meeny, miny, mo' – and probably not only Qara wasn't going to like it.
Khelgar gave a sage stroke to his beard, studying the roads, and uttered an unintelligible noise.
"What's the halt?" Neeshka wondered, sliding between them and still scratching her shoulder absent-mindedly, but her hand stopped as she saw the crossroad. "…Oh."
Adele looked back at the others coming up. Okay, guys, I don't know where we are and how to get out. How 'bout going back?
…Wonder how large of a fireball it takes to turn me to a pile of cinders?
"…You can't be serious," Qara groaned, noticing the tunnels, and almost dropped her staff as her hands fell down helplessly.
Adele wished Casavir was there. Or, at least, wished she could ooze confidence like he did. What she didn't wish for sure was going back. Climbing up the well. Appearing there again. She could still taste wet ash at the back of her throat, could still feel the after-smell of burnt wood and meat stuck to the insides of her nostrils. If she never saw Ember again, it would be too soon.
As her companions eyed the tunnels, no one voicing a suggestion to actually turn back and use a known route, Adele thought that, at least, she wasn't alone in it.
"I like that one," Neeshka finally decided, pointing at one of the tunnels. "It seems to go up."
"Ceiling 's also up, fiendlin'."
"You don't say, Stumpy!"
"We can always drag one of those goblins here and make it lead us out," Bishop pointed out, though his voice sounded absent as he was skimming the darkness around.
Adele paid little attention to his words, also casting her eyes over the cave, trying to get what he was looking for. The ceiling was indeed up, and far up at that, sewn with entangled roots that made anything there was to see into a mess. At least the stones and earth kept their cold colour, so the woman dropped it and looked back at Neeshka still arguing with Khelgar. Adele's darkvision illuminated the outlines of her figure, dull red of her bare neck, grey of her leathers and cloak, warm crimson of a trickle making its way slowly from under the shoulder plate down the rogue's armor…
"Neesh, hold on," she grabbed the tiefling's elbow, making her stop the talking. "You are bleeding."
"What?" Neeshka frowned at the woman, reaching for her shoulder again, and fingered a gash in her leathers wet with moisture. "Damn it, I thought those were spider's guts or something…"
"…No, it's not," Adele whispered, moving Neeshka's cloak out of the way. "Crap, I can't make it out properly without-"
Her words turned to a moan as the cave drowned in the flood of blinding burning-white light, followed by muffled curses from all directions.
"And you are all welcome," muttered Qara, blinking away tears caused by the flash, and raising her opened palm with a small ball of bright light lying there.
"Are we?" Bishop growled almost right into her face, circling the girl to stand closer to the tunnels to forestall a possible attack drawn by the light.
The sorceress followed him with a dismayed glare: "Yes, do a favour and stay away. Preferably downwind."
Letting their voices flow unnoticed by her, Adele rubbed her shut lids furiously, almost hoping to make her eyesight get used to the light manually, and switched her attention back to Neeshka.
…Oh, this can't be good, - she narrowed her eyes, as if smaller field of vision could make the wound smaller too, and almost called out for Elanee, but quickly remembered that the druidess was nowhere near as well. - Hells, smart of me to send her away...
"Sand?"
Neeshka blinked. "Sand? What's 'Sand' for? What's there?" the tiefling craned her neck to have a look, but the wizard was already at her side and immediately took a hold of her head, turning it away, so that the movements of her spine didn't shift the stump of spider's leg that got embedded in her flesh. "Hey now, that's my frigging shoulder! I want to see it!"
"Don't ya feel it?" Khelgar asked incredulously, coming up closer and staring at the damage.
"Well, I feel something's there… and that 'something' hurts like shit, but is it really that awf-?"
"Do you think it's poisonous?" Adele asked Sand without taking her eyes from Neeshka, who went silent immediately.
"Possible, but unlikely," the elf pursed his lips, studying the wound. "It is not a fang, after all." Neeshka grew rigid under his hand, and Sand patted her lightly. "We'll have to pull it out, then wrap you up in a bandage," he glanced at Adele, "and do our best to deliver you to your druidic healer as soon as possible."
"Well, if goblins are to be believed," Qara teased, "it won't take long, will it?"
"If you know a quicker way, my dear, I suggest you start digging."
Adele chewed her lip, looking around the cave quickly, almost hoping to find a convenient secret passage right towards Elanee. She had to admit she didn't like the magical light, too intense and so white that it appeared nearly blue. Its gleams made all her companions look old, wax-pale, dirty and angry.
"Gee, sweet," Neeshka grouched. Even her ever-ruddy cheeks seemed colourless. "Can't you give me some potion or something?"
"You have a strange idea about the ability of slightly enchanted liquid to recreate flesh," Sand sighed.
Qara snorted: "And you have a strange way of claiming your impotency."
"…Dear girl, why and how in this life have you come to believe that everyone is addressing you?"
"Argh, shut it, both of ya!" Khelgar snapped. "Ma fiendlin' got a spider's leg in her an' is bleedin' all over the place!"
Neeshka screwed her eyes tight. "Dammit, people, it hurts all the more from your caterwauling! Do something already, or you'll get yourself a useless one-handed thief!"
"I wouldn't claim it so loudly if I were you, demon," Bishop commented from his place still with his back to them. "You know what they do with crippled horses, don't you?"
"If Elanee were here," Neeshka answered grimly, "she would say that they are healed and treated with respect and care for the rest of their days."
"An' what do ya, folks, do with crippled horses?" Khelgar asked, confused.
"Much the same as with rabid dogs," Adele uttered quietly, but distinctly enough for it to be heard. She couldn't see Bishop's face wholly from her place, but the twitch in his cheek said pretty bluntly of his smirk. Holding back from further snapping, Adele pushed away a piece of leather covering Neeshka's shoulder, trying to peel as much of clothes from around the wound as possible, and looked at Sand. "Good enough?"
"It should do," the wizard agreed, giving the tiefling another careful pat. "Ready, my dear?"
Grobnar at his side fidgeted nervously: "Um, I want to-"
"Later," Adele hissed, coming around Neeshka to stand in front of her.
The tiefling shot her one look, gloomy and alarmed at the same time, but didn't say a thing, allowing Adele to enfold an arm around her neck. The woman pressed Neeshka gently towards her chest to prevent her jerking and nodded to Sand.
"Very well," the elf answered calmly – and without any further warnings grabbed the spider's leg and in one swift motion tore it free.
"Sweetmotherof-" Neeshka squeaked, digging her fingers into Adele's back, and the woman gritted her teeth not to squeak in unison.
"That's that, fiendlin'," Khelgar gave her a toothy grin, watching Sand deftly dressing the wound. "Relax, 'tis all over."
"You shove that thing up your ass and then relax yourself," Neeshka whimpered, still squeezing Adele in a bone-crashing embrace.
Grobnar cleared his throat, "So, back to my previous remark-"
"Or better shove Grobnar up your ass, head first," this time it was more of a snarl, and Adele had to bit down her cheeks from the inside not to snort.
Noticing that Sand finished patching up, Adele carefully unglued Neeshka from herself and backed off, trying to ignore that the ache in her chest didn't ease the same moment. Left on her own, the tiefling shifted her shoulder, checking the tightness of the bandage, then tried to wriggle her fingers, but dropped it quickly, cursing.
"Ya'll be fine, don' worry," Khelgar assured her. "Tree-hugger will mend ya."
"Indeed, none of the bones have been damaged, so the healing won't take long," Sand added, wiping his hands casually.
"Certainly hope so. Kind of got used to having this arm," sighing heavily, she glowered down at Grobnar tugging at the hem of her armour. "What is it?"
The gnome pointed upwards: "There's a spider watching us."
Bishop's head snapped around from surveying the tunnel even faster than all the blood drained from Sand's face. Magic rushed to the tips of wizard's fingers, but the ranger was quicker, sending an arrow into what seemed like a simple slab of earth to Adele. Only following the trajectory of his shot did she notice a couple of tree-roots moving, folding, being drawn into a crevice above, fast enough to avoid the hit – and the arrow-tip scratched only the wall of the cave.
It was the last thing she saw – that very moment Qara closed her palm, dousing the attractive light, and everything disappeared in darkness.
"…Should I kill 'er?" Khelgar wondered at no one.
"Later," Adele muttered, narrowing her eyes to banish the bright outlines of things around that seemed to get burnt into her retina, the world gaining back grey and red shades. "No one moves."
"Oh, where did it go?"
"…and speaks."
"Why?"
Sand silently clamped a hand over Grobnar's mouth. The gnome tried to say something in his defense, but his movements only served to send few magical sparkles dancing over the wizard's knuckles and fingers, effectively making Grobnar grow quiet.
Running her gaze over the wall, Adele finally found what she thought to be the same crack. It was wider than she took it to be at first, roots dangling all around it, making it hard to discern any spider legs even if there were any. She wanted to step to the side for a better view, but hastily decided against it. If the spider got out, it would bare its glowing body for a mark – and Adele had a feeling that even if an arrow didn't kill her on spot, Bishop would probably finish her off for standing in the way of his shot.
Something moved, and Adele licked her lips, spotting two or three legs sprawling out of the crevice carefully, almost tentatively, fingering the wall around as if to find a better way for their owner to get down.
"There it is…" Khelgar whispered gleefully somewhere at her elbow, and Adele felt him give a swing to his axe. "Aye, creepy-crawly, come to dwarf."
Adele frowned. The spider was obviously well aware of their presence, but didn't rush into attack, neither tried to get away. Instead it finally chose a most reliable spot of the wall. Two more legs followed, securing the position, and then a multi-eyed head slid out of the chink. The spider paused, asserting the surroundings, then carefully slipped its body further, baring the smallest slice of shining abdomen…
An arrow ripped the air before Adele could even start opening her mouth to stall the shot. The spider jerked back, throwing up its forelegs with speed that was enthrallingly scary, and fended the bolt, sending it flying to the side and earning an astonished whistle from Khelgar. The woman heard Bishop utter a particularly vile blasphemy, followed by a quick scratching noise of another arrow being dragged from the quiver.
"Hold it!" she shouted.
Bishop froze with a drawn bowstring, his narrowed eyes moving towards the sound of her voice: "What?"
"Hold," Adele repeated quieter. "It doesn't attack."
"...And you want to wait until it does?"
"What's it about holding?" Qara demanded from her place at the side. Even from her spot Adele could feel the thickness and heat of air around the sorceress as the girl was accumulating power.
"Aye, lass, what's on yer mind?" Khelgar joined. "What d'ya want from the crawly?"
"No idea," she confessed, rubbing her neck and keeping her gaze on the spider. "I think it is the crawly that wants something from us."
"And what do we care?" the sorceress wondered.
"...We'll see," Adele murmured, taking a careful step forward.
"Hope you know what you are doing," Neeshka muttered, already gripping one of her blades in an undamaged arm. "I'm not much of a help now, you know."
The woman nodded without looking at her, her own palm unconsciously stroking the hilt of the rapier. The spider hesitated, awaiting another attack - but when none came, moved forward, sliding out of its safe cove into the open…
…and Adele realized that she wouldn't blame Sand if he fainted.
The spider wasn't just bigger than any of its brethren. It was, in fact, much bigger than anything they had to face so far. Compared to it, even the dire wolves back from the Grove looked like breakfast snacks.
"Holy shit," Neeshka whispered, moving back, closer to Sand and Grobnar, who looked ridiculously alike with similarly widened eyes.
"By Clangeddin an' his lovin' Grandma…" Khelgar breathed out. "If this thing 's pregnant, we'll get damned washed away by the tide."
"What does it wait for?" Qara hissed.
"Perhaps it's smart enough to figure out we're more trouble than dinner's worth," Bishop replied.
"But it did crawl out," Neeshka objected. "We've dealt with all its buddies, and it still came out."
"So? It's supposed to grieve for them?"
Adele barely heard their whispers. She stared. Simply stared, not paying attention to some small part of her mind that still preserved caution and was now convulsing in hysterics at the fact that she was facing a ten feet tall magic-wielding monster. After all, she was already facing it. What harm could come from doing it further?
The arachnid didn't move, observing her without any hostility, but rather with a strange air of uncertainty or consideration. Taking that as a good sign, Adele took a step closer, trying to stay out of striking range and at the same time to keep her movements calm. She even had an impulse to raise her hands in pacifying gesture, but managed to remember that thrown up front limbs was a part of battle-stance for any spider, so settled only not to touch her weapon.
As she advanced, the creature carefully moved to the other side, to maintain their distance. Adele stopped, watching it doing the same. After several moments of mutual considering, the spider edged a bit back. Not wishing to ruin its expectations, Adele shifted in opposite direction, following the border of their imaginary circle. The spider eyed her for a couple more heartbeats, then seemed to ease its posture, as if relieved by the result of their dancing.
"My dear," Sand's voice sounded strained, "as your lawyer and official representative I insist that you get away from it."
Adele shot a fleeting jokingly-warning glance over her shoulder at the wizard – but forgot about him the moment she discovered that careful circling had ended up with her being positioned precisely between the spider and the others. Even more precisely, between it and Bishop, who still held his weapon at hand.
The spider actually managed to make a shield out of her.
Turning back, the woman stared squarely at the arachnid, almost skeptical. It was a hard feat to keep eye-contact with someone with such eyes, but from the position of the spider's head Adele could tell it was looking at her in return, and quite straightly. That, together with how carefully the creature chose its spot, said that skepticism was a waste.
"…Well, aren't you smart," she muttered under her breath, her lips stretching in a baffled unintentional smile.
The creature must have understood her - not the words, perhaps, but the meaning, the mood, her mere tone - because it dropped a bit more of its caution and moved closer. Still, even being quite sure the spider meant no harm, Adele tensed when its forelegs swiftly reached out towards her, and barely managed to wave her hand furiously behind her back for others to stall any actions. Tips of its limbs tapped lightly all over her arms, shoulders, neck and head, studying her by touch. She had to fight hard not to jerk at that, only wincing as several stresses of her hair stuck to chitin got ripped out when it drew back. It reminded her of Karnwyr and his exploration, but the arachnid seemed so much less hostile, that the woman dared to raise her hand and place it on the flexion of the creature's limb in return. The surface was hard and rough, the callosities on her palm making a subtle scratching sound as she ran her fingers over the husk… The creature didn't mind her touch, taking it rather naturally.
"Keep it down, guys," Adele raised her voice a little, addressing others, and smiled, taking off her hand, almost unwillingly. "She's weary of us, but she's peaceful."
"...Now it's a 'she'?" Neeshka asked incredulously.
"Looks like, to me," Adele shrugged, watching the spider tap the ground with its forelegs. The woman chuckled at that nearly humanoid gesture of nervous contemplation and glanced back again towards her companions, to see if they were enjoying it as much as she was.
"...Oh no," Khelgar grouched. "She's gonna talk to it. Ya'll see, she's gonna go and talk to it. Lass, are ya insane?"
"Hush, you," she grinned, staring again into the multi-facet eyes of the creature towering in front of her, still studying. "Okay, I'm all attention, beautiful."
Another considering tap of sharp forelegs – and then, suddenly and quite vigorously, those legs started moving, scratching something out in the moist earth. Adele blinked, gaping unbelievingly as the lines began forming symbols, symbols that looked vaguely familiar… but only vaguely.
"…Uhm," she tilted her head, trying to look at the marks from different angle, then glanced up at the spider that was now watching her expectantly, pale eerie gleam of magic dancing on the ink-black chitin. Adele found herself wondering how indeed this creature managed to move and operate all her weight, and limbs, and fangs, and… Damn you, Grobnar, couldn't you shove something useful into my head? "Sand?"
"No," was immediate answer from behind.
"You gonna love it."
"Highly doubt that."
Adele shook her head and looked to her side, feeling someone's presence. She wasn't surprised to see that it was Neeshka who trusted her feelings about the spider enough to come closer. She still clutched one of her short-swords, but kept it low, the blade hanging limply along her hip.
"…Wow," the tiefling stared at the writings. "Can see why she didn't want to keep company with others of her kind. They weren't much of a chat, huh?" she frowned. "Is that Elven?"
"Might be. Looks familiar, anyway," Adele answered, though she still looked at the spider more than at her calligraphic doings. The arachnid didn't object Neeshka's presence, waiting patiently for them to get her meaning – or, perhaps, was trying to come up with another way to bring her point to their notice. "Saaaaaand, this spider writes in Elven."
It didn't take long for a sound of slow footsteps to come from behind her back, and Adele stifled a grin when Sand approached, dragging Grobnar in front of him. Not that the gnome minded, his eyes shining with thrill as he was glancing between the spider and the writings. The wizard did the same, though with much more guardedness, but the symbols on the ground soon won his attention fully, and he even eased his hold on the gnome-shield.
"Indeed, these glyphs are close enough to…" he narrowed his eyes at the writings. "How's it possible?"
"She's intelligent, right?" Adele asked, unable to tear her eyes from the creature. "What does it say?"
"Well, if to pretend that this is some mutilated form of Elven, then… she's actually claiming that she is an outcast and has no dealings with other arachnids here. But for a creature of her size and power to be an outcast…"
"…What's wrong with that?"
"It's unlikely others drove her away. Neither had she seized control of the local population..." caught up in his reasoning Sand even dared to look up at the spider. "She chose to be an outcast. An ability to make un-forced un-instinctual decisions… I'd say she is highly intelligent," the arachnid clacked her mandibles, and the look on elf's face instantly changed from scientific awe to pure illness. "But what I wouldn't give for a huge book to crush her flat."
"You just look at those fangs!" Grobnar gushed, glancing up at Sand to see if he shared his excitement. "Hate to see how much venom those could churn out. What do you think, Master Sand? Probably enough to kill a horse, huh?"
"…You are not making it any easier, little bane," the wizard hissed, then sighed helplessly. "Then again, you never do."
Adele winced, dismissing their voices, and rubbed her forehead, peering solely at the spider. "Look, I guess you had your reasons to get out and meet us," she said quietly, "and, I'll be honest, I had my reasons to allow you to." The spider showed no signs of objection, keeping her place firmly and patiently. Adele smiled. "How about we exchange those reasons and be useful to each other?"
Sand cast her a suspicious glance: "What are you doing, if I dare to ask?"
The woman shrugged: "You said yourself she is capable of intelligent decisions. And we need someone who knows a way out of here. So I'm striking a deal."
"Told ya," Khelgar snorted.
"A deal," Sand repeated. "With a spider."
"No, with an intelligent creature who knows a way out of here."
"…and happens to be a spider," the wizard looked at the creature in question, studying her calm and at the same time expectant posture, and back at Adele. "…Peculiar," he muttered, then waved his hand with sudden easiness. "Do carry on, my dear, I'd like to see it."
Adele arched her brow at him doubtfully, but the elf simply stood back, hiding his hands in the sleeves of his robe, watching the forthcoming exchange with his usual cool detached curiosity.
…Peculiar?
"Well, beautiful, how are you about taking part in a free show?" she murmured to the spider and nodded at the leading-out tunnels. "You should know your way around. All I ask is the right direction, 'cause I have a wounded companion here and really want to get her out as quickly as possible." At her side Neeshka fidgeted, but Adele waved off her imminent assurances that she wasn't wounded that badly. For all her feigned complaints the tiefling never minded troubles, ready to bite her way through a stone wall if needed. Guess it's something living on the streets and surviving through them does to you… "If you want something in return, name it."
The spider spared a tad of brief acknowledgement to the rest, then gazed back at Adele and – slowly, almost doubtfully – scratched yet another symbol on the ground.
"She's hungry," Sand translated, wrapping his arms around himself a bit tighter, but, to his credit, managed to hold his ground even as nervousness crept back into his voice.
"…Great," Neeshka gave an awkward chuckle, taking a few steps back, leaving only Grobnar and Adele to stand in front of the creature.
"Sweet," the woman grumbled. "And what do giant magical spiders eat? Giant magical flies?"
"Makes sense," Grobnar nodded.
"Have mercy, you two," Sand almost pleaded.
"I'd better have something to give to her," Adele looked back at those keeping behind, hoping for them to suggest something.
Qara and Khelgar met her stare grimly, both of them not thrilled with what was going on for a tiniest bit. Bishop, on the opposite, surveyed the whole scene with a slimy smirk, as if he just came up with an ugly dirty joke and was now cataloging it in his endless stock.
"Don' look at me, lass," the dwarf warned. "Wanna give s'meone to yer beast, I say give the gnome. Or firehead's rat."
"You wish," Qara snorted, but on instinct drew her left shoulder, where Tamin was sitting, a bit back.
"Then you can nobly sacrifice yourself for the good of others," Bishop suggested and winced in disappointment, "Fuck, where's the paladin when you need him."
"Gods, you three are useless," Adele shook her head.
"Wouldn't have said that, were we forced to fight that thing," Qara pointed, tapping her fingers over the staff.
"Aye, that's fer sure," Khelgar grinned.
"Oh!" Grobnar suddenly exclaimed, nearly jumping, and reached for his small, but bottomless backpack. For all Adele knew, he could be carrying live cows in it. "I think I can… where is it? Ah, here!" he finally produced a large box the woman remembered from the werewolves' cave, and without any shade of fear started towards the arachnid. Adele tried to catch him, but failed, though Grobnar turned to face her, proceeding with his back to front, explaining: "I know these insects are small, but they are various and rare, so, perhaps, they will be sort of a dainty. Why not-?"
His words were cut short as he ran into one of the arachnid's limbs, tripping over his own legs and almost falling. Adele tensed, ready to jump into attack if the gnome appeared in danger, but the spider merely dragged her leg closer to her body, studying the tiny creature right in front of her.
"Ha, haven't dropped," Grobnar beamed a triumphant smile that was totally devoid of any self-preservation instinct whatsoever, turning to the spider and holding out his box for her. "I could coo a bit about what delicious morsels we've got here, but I think it'll be insulting for an imposing creature you are."
With that he actually bowed, making the spider sway a little backwards in surprise.
"If that thing goes and bites his head off," came Qara's grave drawl, "I'll be laughing till the end of my days."
'That thing' did not. Instead she finally seemed to come over her amazement towards the gnome and switched her attention to the insects brought to her. Cautiously at first, she soon became quite hearty in having a bite. Adele relaxed, seeing that the gift was taken favourably, and came closer to Grobnar, who was nearly glowing with pride and joy.
"That's what I like about adventuring most of all," he confessed quietly. "You meet so many interesting individuals, and creatures, and species you don't even have to invent stories – every one of your new acquaintances is a story on their own!"
I just hope she works off her part of the deal…
It didn't take long for such a giant to get rid of the small box of bugs – but from the way the spider moved her mandibles afterwards, Adele got an impression she was quite satisfied with her snack. Drawing slightly backwards the arachnid found a patch of ground free of her symbols and quickly scratched the last one.
This one Adele actually understood.
"Kistrel," she read and smirked. Though it meant 'friendship' in Elven, Adele had a feeling the spider used it in some other way… almost like introducing herself. "Alright, Kistrel be it," raising her brows a bit, she nodded again towards the tunnels. "Up we go?"
The spider shifted her weight on her long edgy legs and then, without any warning, scurried off by both ground and wall towards one of the corridors, barely missing ill-fortuned Sand. As others didn't follow her at once, baffled by her behaviour or still suspicious of it, the arachnid stopped, looking back.
"Okay, go-go," Adele prodded her companions, and herself strode after the spider, feeling her feet stepping much more lightly – now that the destination was clearer.
"First goblins, now spiders," Qara grouched to her. "You'll start kissing pigs at the next turn the way you go."
…In some sense, I already have.
She swallowed a chuckle at the thought, but didn't answer anything.
"But at least we can be certain we took right direction," Grobnar said, doing his best to fall in steps of his taller companions. "Judging from miss Qara's sour moods, we are close to Duskwood."
Khelgar snorted, "Judgin' from her moods, Duskwood conquered the world."
"I heard that!"
Though her body language and her face did not betray it, Elanee was restless.
Long before, she used to find approaching night appeasing. In the vast shadowy marshes to which she belonged as strongly as they belonged to her, there was something eternally calming in the slow endlessness of fragrant darkness enveloping trees and hills, climbing the rises and filling the falls, drowning and hushing the ever-present quiet humming of life of the Mere. Though neither nights nor days were tender in Merdelain, their unforgiving harshness was a familiar one.
In Duskwood everything was alien.
As Elanee led the way towards the cave, she found her steps to be unsure, her senses once again being slowly drenched with the already known but nonetheless unpleasant damper. Yes, it was fainter this time – but it was still there.
The land was always demanding just as much as it was generous. Of course, the land in different places was different as well, but its vast dominance was not changing. During her century in the Circle, she had learnt the capricious and dark nature of the Mere, she had learnt to speak to it – but even more important, she had learnt to listen to it in return. And nothing in the world could be compared to the feeling of being accepted, to the understanding that cruel ages-old marshes trusted her to walk them, keep them, sense them… With Duskwood, no matter how hard she tried to reach to the core of the forest, it did not work. The wood stayed impenetrable, unwavering in its closed all-sufficient independence, allowing her to pass, but never welcoming to stay.
She dared not to ask for more.
Even the night here was different. It didn't 'come', stealing its way into the evening or swooping down unexpectedly. No, it simply… appeared, and one only noticed it when already wrapped into darkness, wondering - and unable to remember - when exactly had all the light faded.
It made her feel lost.
"You are worried."
Elanee gave a start and looked back, into the cave they had taken, expecting to stare into the two dark voids of eyes on a pale, nearly translucent face, but saw none. Of course, there was no way the boy could have come up to her unnoticed. With no small relief the druidess saw him actually addressing Shandra, both sitting close to the fire, the boy's hand encased safely in hers. Elanee had to smile at that. There was no way Shandra would have even let go of the child, too, seeing how strongly, almost savagely protective she seemed to become of the boy during their short trip. Protective of the only living being that they managed to save from Ember…
The farmer, who had been ruffling through the embers tensely, taking time to glance around, as if any moment awaiting for an attack or something worse, frowned down at Marcus: "Yeah, I guess… I mean, of course I am. Why?"
"You grip my hand too tightly."
"…Oh," the woman eased her hold, but didn't let go, rubbing his fingers with her own. "Sorry."
Elanee turned away, looking back at the forest, inwardly glad that she was not the one the boy was talking to. And – especially – gazing at. It wasn't an easy thing to bear. Those eyes, dark and infinite, seemed to draw her in, send her falling down the bottomless pit, like the child's body was nothing more than a shaft that connected the physical world with the nothingness beyond.
She was the creature of earth, and that emptiness unsettled her.
"Aren't you?" Shandra spoke up again behind her back, her voice tentative. "Worried?"
"No," he answered simply.
Elanee believed him. Horrible as it was, she did. She would have blamed the shock for his numbness, the shock he lived through upon witnessing an act of destruction so atrocious – as Shandra seemed to – but the druidess remembered that the boy hadn't been much different when they had met him for the first time. Even back then she had been chilled by his demeanor, by his words and most of all by his overwhelming calmness. Only now, coming to believe that the boy was actually a seer, did she realize that, perhaps, in his mind he had already witnessed things much more horrible than Ember.
No wonder his voice, his face, even his movements seemed devoid of any edge. A soul so small and young was opened bare to the powers much greater than it, powers strong enough to crash and erase the barriers between real and not in his mind, to dull his emotions to the point they seemed non-existent - like a tide smoothed the irregularities of the shore it flooded against, dragging the pebbles, plants and even creatures with it back to the ocean in its reflux, leaving nothing but sleek plain coastline behind.
"That means no troubling visions as of late?" Shandra tried her best to make her voice sound light, but wasn't really convincing.
"…They are not exactly visions," Marcus explained. "They are just… things. I look at someone and see. Beyond. It's like looking with another pair of eyes. Used to make me dizzy."
"So, when you look at, say, me-?"
"…Yes," the boy seemed reluctant. "But don't ask what. People usually get angry or upset when I speak about them. Like I invent those things. I don't. I just see."
"I won't be… Or is it that bad?"
Elanee couldn't help it, stealing another glance back, at the pair near the fire. Gleams of flames trembled on their faces, sending their shadows to a frenzied dance over the walls. They looked… surreal.
"I don't know," Marcus confessed, looking up at Shandra, both of them too much engrossed in their exchange to notice Elanee's watching. "It's something about your blood being spilled. To… open something? Or break something? Free something?" he sighed and rubbed his eyes in a weary gesture. "I don't know."
"Well…" Shandra shrugged, encouraging. "It does make some sense, actually."
The boy said nothing, blinking at the fire, too tired or simply unwilling to dwell further in the subject, then with a sigh curled into a ball almost right in Shandra's lap, closing his eyes. The woman froze, caught totally off-guard by that, her hands lingering in the air – before curling protectively around him.
Like an animal with her cub, Elanee smiled softly.
"You should get your rest as well," she said, and Shandra glanced up at her abruptly, obviously unaware of the elf's attention. Odd, but that made Elanee feel almost ashamed. Watching and listening had long become her second nature, and sometimes she forgot that it wasn't something looked upon kindly outside the Circle.
"I… guess I should," Shandra agreed quietly, trying to make herself comfortable and at the same time not to disturb the boy. "Just wanted to wait for the others to come back. But, I think, I'll wake up anyway."
Elanee nodded, watching her give one last rake to the embers, then leaning against the wall with Marcus still clutching to her. His face, even relaxed in tired dreamless sleep, stayed just as plain and empty, ageless and lineless. But he was safe with Shandra, of that the druidess was certain. She had a kind heart, this rough around the edges woman. And she clearly found her strength in taking care of others, her own worries forgotten in favour of someone else's needs.
As for Elanee, she had another child to watch out for.
When Shandra's breathing became regular and soft, the druidess turned back towards the forest. She knew she wasn't the only one waiting – she could feel it, the primal restless mind cutting its way through the woods, the wolf's will as sharp and well-aimed as the arrows of the human he was expecting to return.
Elanee closed her eyes, placing her palms on the ground, pressing her feet deeper into the soil, trying to grasp and hold the same unity with the forest around. It did not work, but at least she felt calmed by the sounds of woods, by the still, if a little sour, air… As much as she got used to the people she was (had to be) surrounded with, such moments of silence, absence of voices and shouts was something to be enjoyed.
Not for long, though, as she heard footsteps much earlier than the paladin even appeared in her view, carrying an armful of brushwood for the fire. His face was thoughtful, and it did not escape Elanee as he glanced around the hill to find out whether she was the only one present.
She was not the only one to wait, indeed.
"This should be enough for the night," Casavir told her, coming up. Elanee put her finger to her lips and motioned slightly towards the cave with her head.
"Sleeping," she whispered.
His face seemed to soften a little, and he nodded, contented, carefully placing the wood not far from the entrance: "…Good for them. Perhaps, it is best for you to retire as well? It has been a long day."
"No, I can't. If they come back injured, they'll need me."
Casavir nodded again, but all softness was gone from his expression, just like that, with the only notion. "I can't say I liked this dividing of forces from the start," he said as he straightened up, looking deep into the forest, his hands clasping behind his back in a familiar soldier-like stance. Worried, true. Though sometimes Elanee felt his worry was a little different – and a little more targeted – than simple concern for his fellow-fighters. "Though I understand why Adele thought it to be necessary, even if dangerous."
"Her decisions sometimes may not be the wisest ones, but she is persistent enough to make the best out of what she gets as a result," Elanee shrugged. "Besides, it is hard to believe that anything of threat would dare to be so close to that village. They probably found something of interest in those tunnels that takes their time."
"Yet here you are," Casavir noted. "Waiting."
"…Yes," she smiled in defeat, closing her eyes again. "Even though I know she is no longer a child who drops all guard and caution in favour of a bush of dewberry, and capable of handling herself… old habits die hard."
It was the truth. A sad one, Elanee discovered.
No answer came from the paladin, and she looked up – to discover him gazing down at her with a mixture of wonder and confusion in his eyes:
"I did not realize you know her for so long."
Instinctively, her fingers sank deeper into the ground as everything inside of her tucked in instantly. Did she just say that? Did she forget herself so? All this nostalgia, and memories, and tiredness – she gave into it! Forgot that she wasn't here for reminiscing and bonding! Just because her Circle (if still existed… it hurt, too, to even suggest that) and the Mere was far away, how could she forswear her duty to them?
She almost heard Vashnee's voice knelling in her ears.
Serves me right.
"I don't," Elanee answered levelly, fixing her stare at the nearest row of trees, the soil cold against her skin, seeping under her nails… "But the Mere is not as endless as people like to think, and I had my share of meetings with local kids. They all have much in common."
She remembered that, as a paladin, he would be able to tell truth from lies, but remembered too late. But he pressed no further, and she was grateful for that.
"Is this truly your first journey outside the Mere?" he asked instead. "So I heard."
"It is," she was careful, much more careful – now, when it couldn't already change anything. "Before following gythianki, I've never ventured into humans' world."
Casavir nodded, slowly, looking in the distance. Elanee could tell what was there, in the distance he was gazing.
Ember.
"I suppose you don't think high of us after everything you've witnessed," he said finally.
That was not a question – and even if it had been, Elanee wouldn't have found at once what to answer. To tell 'I do' would have been a lie. But then, she never thought high of the world she was now made live in, everything she witnessed simply rooted her opinion. Yet, hearing one man saying it, with grimness and almost guilt, swayed her, if only for a bit.
"Do you always take blame for all the humankind?" the druidess wondered gently.
It was he who didn't answer this time. Not that she expected him to.
"…telling you, we should have taken her with us!" came a female voice from somewhere around the cliff. "She and Grobnar! Just imagine what a show it could be! We'd be rich in an eyewink!"
Another voice, more than familiar, laughing: "Gods, Neesh, you are mean."
"I'm not mean, I'm just spiteful today a little."
"What, the ranger bit you or something?" the girl, Qara.
"Nah, a spider, if you didn't notice. Was bad enough."
What a sight they were. Being dragged through all the Mere's bog wouldn't have left them so dirty. Elanee couldn't miss Neeshka's shoulder, dressed tightly but hastily, just as she couldn't miss cobweb caught in their clothes and hair, not to mention earth and slime…
"What happened to you?" the druidess asked, torn between worry and chuckle.
Neeshka, going side by side with Adele, gave her a broad grin: "You, guys, will never believe what happened!"
Elanee shook her head, not even trying to remember everything they had already been through all together. Casavir, also watching their approach, allowed himself a small smile: "Something tells me we shall."
It took awhile for all the stories to be told and wounds to be treated. Surely, the tales were solely around the damned well and its content, leaving out Ember - for some reason (not as strange as it may have seemed at first) no one dared to speak of the village or other things involved in Marcus presence. Not that he minded, being only half-awake and falling asleep again rather quickly, ignoring Shandra who took an opportunity to try and feed him her whole stack of rations.
The rest of the evening was spent by dragging apart two dampened and, thus, angry magicians, Elanee nearly scratching out any information about Kistrel with whom she seemed to be more than impressed, and Neeshka teaching the rest some queer gambling game with the use of many small pebbles of different colours. Grobnar appeared to get the best grasp of it and won almost all of the sets – and even when loosing he left a distinct impression that it was done on purpose not to upset anybody. Khelgar's damaged leg started hurting again after the whole day of moving, so he was made to gulp down several healing potions, being quite unsuccessful in grumbling that they tasted like slops. He calmed down a bit after was given a flask of whiskey from Bishop's stock – since the ranger was out to fetch his wolf and, therefore, saw none of the liberties taken with his supplies.
The first watch was given to Neeshka and Grobnar, because the tiefling was adamant in her wish to win her own game. In light of that even Casavir agreed to take rest. Adele couldn't help but be glad that the paladin seemed to grow more and more resigned to the fact that he, too, could have a full night's rest without guarding everyone's sleep. Khelgar was also still awake, taking out his grindstone and diving into a clearly enjoyable process of sharpening his axe – and every other piece of weapon the rest of the company handed to him, since he took so much pleasure in the work.
…"You tiny damned cheat, how are you doing it?" Neeshka shook her head stubbornly, facing yet another defeat. Her tail trashed in irritation, pretty close to tying itself into knots.
"I really-really don't know," Grobnar smiled guiltily. "Honestly, miss Neeshka, it just doesn't seem to work any other way!"
"Oh, I'll bring you out into the open, you just wait and see," she hissed, putting the stones back into the small pouch and shaking it to shuffle. Elanee's treatment did her good, not healing the wound entirely at once, but at least returning Neeshka's arm its flexibility.
Adele stretched her chilled feet closer to the fire, curling her toes inside the still wet boots, and cradled her chin in the palms, watching the players:
"…I wonder, if I keep looking for another hour, will I finally get how it's supposed to be played?"
"What's to get? Look, you pour them out and-"
"No-no, don't go into that explanation of yours again, it just makes everything worse."
"That's right, lassie," Khelgar nodded, testing the edge of one of Neeshka's blades. "'Tis better to learn by yerself, on yer own mistakes."
"Right," Neeshka snorted, without looking at him, then threw out her hand and gave a hearty tug to his beard before the dwarf could get her intentions. "There goes your mistake-education, Stumpy. Nu-uh-thing."
"Ya'r askin' fer it, fiendlin'," Khelgar pointed the sword he'd been sharpening at her. "One more time, an' I'll remove yer horns together with that loaf ya wear for yer head!"
"You know, it always amazed me, how sensitive dwarves are about their beards," Grobnar put in. "Like in that story of a dwarven king and a red dragon who put it on fire while-"
"There's no such story, gnome," Khelgar growled.
"Yeah, Grobnar, there can't be," Neeshka added in mock terror. "All dwarven kings had sacred indestructible beards!"
"Fiendlin'…"
"Oh well, perhaps," the gnome grinned peacefully. "It must have been some other story, quite possible."
"Why do you never tell all these stories?" Adele wondered. "You only start, but never actually get to them."
"Oh, you see, miss Adele, the thing is that I really mean to! But when the inspiration strikes, and all those thoughts come rushing in, tumbling in my head at once, words ringing in my ears… whew, makes me dizzy sometimes," he waved his hands. "And sometimes one thought just chases off the others. It's like today, with this absolutely marvelous creature down in the caves… it reminded me of that blade-golem, remember? The one we encountered in the lair of those very unpleasant githyanki. Even though it was damaged and potentially deadly, I think I might have been able to get it serviceable again. And seeing how helpful Kistrel turned out to be, just think about what that construct would be capable of!"
"…It's really not one and the same, Grobnar."
"Why?"
"'Cause she can't talk to a golem," Khelgar snorted.
"For example, yeah," Adele nodded. "What, is it wrong that I prefer dealing with those to whom I can explain at least something somehow?" glancing back at Grobnar, she frowned. "Come now, do you really think tinkering with that thing would have been wise?"
"'Wise'?" the gnome sniffed, waving her off. "What does 'wise' have to do with it, miss Adele? Was it wise of me to test my mithral-chain diving-suit, when I nearly drowned? Or was it wise when I drank molten lead to try and discover a formula for lead-skin spell? I think not!" he raised a finger pointedly. "But in each case I've learned valuable lessons which helped me to this day!" he fell silent, staring thoughtfully into space, then winced dismissively. "Well, whatever they were…"
"How comes he's still alive?" Neeshka muttered.
"Nah, he's a fighter," Khelgar grinned. "In his own way, o' course, but still…"
Adele and Neeshka exchanged meaningful glances.
"I heard it too, did you?" Adele wondered.
"Yeah. Stumpy's getting wiser and more open-minded with every day. So monky."
"Wha-? I'll show ya monkey, you tailed-"
"Not 'monkey', but… oh, nevermind."
"…You know, miss Neeshka," Grobnar cut in, "better toss around those stones again, I'll try to explain how I win all the time."
Adele smirked, sinking her head into her hands again: "He's just lucky like Gods-know-what."
Neeshka gave a doomed sigh, shaking the pouch. "Tymora, help me."
"Lass," Khelgar frowned at Adele holding her chin in her palm. "Don't ya think ya should snatch a nap, eh?"
The woman shook her head, "Nope, I'm fine, I need little sleep," and even less bad dreams… much less than I'll probably get… She rubbed her face and looked around the cave, having to admit that her sleeping companions looked like they were really enjoying themselves. "Where the Hells is Bishop? Got into a pitfall or what?"
Neeshka spared her a knowing glance, and Adele, getting her full of the tiefling's looks, stared right back at her: "What?"
"Nothing," the rogue gave her the oiliest smile. "You kinda like him, don't you?"
"…Whom?"
Neeshka rolled her eyes, "Why, Stumpy of course. Long before noticed this roaring chemistry between you two. Men are hot when they are fat and furry, aren't they."
"Hey!" Khelgar bellowed.
"What, you want Del to like you?"
The dwarf cast his eyes between her and Adele, who found it extremely hard to keep an incredulous face while trying not to snicker, then raised his hands at the latter:
"Don't get me wrong, lass, were ya twice shorter, twice broader and sport a nice beard, I'd be all over ya in a heartbeat, but-"
"Gee, thanks for a sweet image," Neeshka cut him off, turning back to Adele. "And you don't pretend that-"
"Neesh, I'll save your time and breath - the day I start liking a foul-mouthed murderous alcoholic, I'm done with."
"Aw," the tiefling smiled again. "Heard that, Stumpy? She's done with."
Much to Adele's bewilderment, Khelgar answered with a broad toothy grin that showed no signs of disagreement:
"Aye, but lad surely needs some crap beaten out of him first. Might turn out to be somethin' decent, who knows."
"And whom are we talking about exactly?" Grobnar asked, but before Neeshka could answer (and was really looking forward to it), Adele got to her feet:
"Fine, you won, I wash and then am going to sleep… Gods, sometimes I hate you, guys."
"Oh, you know how they say that there's only one step from love to hatred…" Neeshka slurred, "…and baaack."
"Screw you."
"Me? You sure?"
Grinning, Adele circled the fire and went out into the cold night, wrapping her arms around herself. It was obviously worth spending some time outside, to let the whole conversation die and not be revived. Amusing as it was, Neeshka deciding to play a pimp for her and the ranger of all people was the last thing Adele wanted and needed.
At least, for now.
As for 'then'… well, she surely could use someone to stretch some tension out of her spine. Though it'd better be someone she didn't dream of gagging with dirty feet-wraps.
And someone not of the band. Don't shit where you eat and all…
Stepping down from the cave towards the spring, the woman splashed her burning face with freezing water, shivered, but steeled herself and threw a handful of icy moisture on her neck and hair, letting it loose.
Yes, that's where thoughts of a hot bath come back…
Giving her scalp a moment of rest, Adele rubbed the back of her head and tied her unruly white-and-black mop back into a high tight tail, then drew a lungful of sourish-sweet air of Duskwood that left her mind reel a bit. Blinking at the darkness, she smiled. The night was quiet and fragrant, not to be spoiled by darkvision or anything.
Damn, I do like it in here.
Turning away from the brook, Adele took a step back towards the cave – but froze dead in her tracks when her path was crossed by a large grey shadow. Only when it stopped, gazing at her suspiciously, did she recognize Karnwyr and blew a relieved sigh:
"You two take it after each other to scare crap out of me, huh? I'm not even armed, mind you." The wolf didn't react, still frowning up at her, and Adele shrugged: "Which, I guess, is totally my problem, you are right."
Karnwyr cocked his head to the side in a totally familiar gesture, measuring her up and down, and the woman couldn't fight back a grin – it seemed that sneaking up at her wasn't the only habit the wolf and his human companion took from each other.
"By the way, your master is out there in the cold creepy night looking for you at this very moment," she said, still grinning. Karnwyr blinked indifferently. "Good to know you don't care."
And it's hardly your fault that your master is an ass.
"Hey, you know, I think I've got something for you," she crouched in front of him, reaching for her belt-pouch. Karnwyr didn't back off, but his body tensed, yellow eyes narrowed, following her every move. Ignoring the coldness of silver shards that slid over the back of her palm, Adele raked through the small bag and finally found what was left of a beef-roll given to her by ever-caring Duncan. Taking it out, the woman unwrapped waxed paper, holding the meat out to the wolf. He eyed her all over sullenly and moved his nose just a tad. "Yes, it is for you."
Karnwyr glanced briefly at her face, then from side to side, as if afraid someone would witness his failing, and quickly snatched the roll with his teeth, dragging it off her palm and swallowing down. Adele watched him, crossing her arms on her knees:
"So, what say you? Peace?" Karnwyr looked at her hands, then back at her face expectantly, and she had to shrug again. "Nope, honey, that's all. Morsels are eaten by small bites, otherwise they lose their charm and become food."
He didn't move, still gazing at her, and Adele, unable to hold back another grin, lifted her hand, placing it on the wolf's forehead to give him a test scratch. But before her fingers could even touch his fur properly, Karnwyr jerked away, tossing his head up, and the next thing Adele knew were his jaws snapping shut around her arm just below the elbow. She froze, staring at him wide-eyed, a startled scream jumping up her throat, but she managed to clench her teeth to stop it, collecting all her willpower not to shrink back and give the damned animal an excuse to tear her to pieces. Karnwyr didn't bite hard enough to cut through her jerkin – of which she was already glad – but she had a sick feeling that an attempt to free her arm from the trap of his jaws would most likely end in the bone being broken in two.
So she kept still, not taking her eyes from Karnwyr's golden orbs that went on staring at her. Somehow, but Adele even squeezed out a smile, faint, crooked and clearly unhealthy-looking, but it was all she was capable of, with her palm and wrist growing numb from pain:
"…Hey, calm down, boy… Startled you, didn't I?" she murmured softly, her throat tightening from effort of keeping down the whine. Seeing that she didn't intend on going on with her harassment, the wolf finally let her go, taking a few steps back to leave enough space between them, then skirted to the side, keeping the woman in his sight, and Adele jumped to her feet, her voice turning to a snarl: "You little… no, you big son of a… wolfish bitch!"
Undoing her jerkin, she shrugged it off hastily and tried to roll up the sleeve of her tunic, uttering a hiss when the fabric brushed against the burning red marks left swelling on her skin. Diving back into her pouch, she took out a can of Sand's ointment given to her long time ago and spent a couple of mortifying moments trying to open it with one hand, silently cursing thousands of hot fishhooks that seemed to get stuck in the very core of her damaged arm and did their best to tear themselves free at every move. The grease itself was a relief, cool against her pulsing aching skin, and Adele rubbed it generously right into the broken circle of teeth-marks.
So who's a one-handed jerk now?
Oh, Neesh is going to have hiccup from laughing.
"Happy now?" she growled at Karnwyr, who watched the whole process with almost speculating eye. As if the damned mutt was exploring results of some test he had run on her. Using her teeth to tighten the bandage around her arm, Adele spat out its end and glared at the wolf: "Do you always bite the hand that feeds you? Even a giant glowing spider is smarter than that!"
Karnwyr glanced up from her wound to her face, nonchalant, studying, and Adele barely held herself from planting a boot into his furry side. Partly because she didn't want her leg to suffer the same abuse as her arm had.
"Well, the Hells with you too, then," she stood up, crossing her arms on her chest (the bitten right one like a red-hot iron rod falling on the undamaged skin of the left), and sneered at the wolf. "I like cats anyway."
Karnwyr moved his ears, silently and eloquently making her realize he didn't give a damn.
Okay, neither do I, then.
Adjusting the bandage one last time, she picked up her jerkin and shoved the wounded arm into the sleeve as swiftly as possible. It didn't save her from flash of pain, but at least she was through with it quicker. Putting the jerkin on completely, she straightened the sleeve, smoothing it over dressing, and tucked in loose ends of the bandage, until no clues of her wound were left.
Otherwise, she knew, she wouldn't live it through from Bishop alone.
"Out of my way," she growled at Karnwyr blocking the path towards the cave. The wolf, giving her another pondering look, without any objections loped to the side.
…Maybe I was wrong, maybe there is a reason two bastards get along so well, Adele thought gloomily, watching his departure as he trotted away through the rustling grass, towards a couple of old flat stubs grown with moss…
…one of which was actually occupied.
His bow and quiver were on the ground, the arrows spilled out, and the ranger was picking out those undamaged, while the splinted and broken ones got deprived of their heads and feathering, all of that piled separately. It didn't prevent him from sparing Adele one amused glance, however, as well as giving his wolf an absent-minded scratch behind an ear when the animal got to his side.
Slowly, Adele folded her arms again, straightening up and arching her brow silently. If she was going to get a load of crap on her head, she might as well get right to it and save both their time. Bishop threw her another fleeting look, eyes glinting with laughter, and shook his head, not stopping his work.
"Haven't noticed you here," Adele sipped out coldly.
"Small wonder," he noted, studying one of the prepared long slivers of wood, and smirked, "for a woman who had a piece of sword in her ribs for her whole life and never noticed that."
She narrowed her eyes: "Bet you thought that one out long time ago and was dying for a possibility to say it, huh."
Corners of his mouth twitched, almost turning his smirk into an actual smile: "Got me."
Karnwyr sank on the grass at his master's feet, scratching himself lazily with his hindleg, while Bishop calmly went on with scraping the future shaft of an arrow with his newly-returned knife. Adele regarded both of them coolly for several moments, and, seeing that she was not going to get anything even remotely sounding like an apology or explanation, deliberately cleared her throat.
"What? Expecting me to tell you I warned you?" Bishop wondered without looking at her. It occurred to her that he was avoiding her gaze simply not to fall over with laughter. "Don't worry, I won't."
"You are a real sweetie," Adele deadpanned.
"Ain't I indeed," he muttered with a quiet snort. "Must be something in the air."
"So why are you out here, exactly, and not inside?"
"Why, worried?" another amused glance.
"Prefer to have all of you in my sight."
"Ah, yeah, the leader thing," he smirked, fastening an arrow-point on the shaft. "Just waiting for the demon and the gnome to pass out. Double portion of crushing cheerfulness is more than I can handle."
Her eyes followed the blade of his skinning knife as it slid along yet another sliver, slicing off the tiniest of hitches and snags.
…Really? Or is it the boy you are so thoroughly avoiding?
"What's so special about this knife of yours, anyway?"
Bishop looked up at her for a moment, for a moment too short for her to read his expression. "Nothing."
"Uh-huh," she sniffed. "Then what was all the tantrum 'my preciousss ssstolen' about?"
He actually stopped his cutting for a second, looking down at Karnwyr at his feet: "See, boy? Told you it doesn't matter she is a fool – she makes it up with being funny."
"…Are you purposefully pissing me off?"
This time there was no mistaking annoyance in his expression. "Me pissing you off?"
"I simply asked a question."
"I answered it. And done so several times before, I believe. Just a knife. Mine. Had it for ages, so got used to it," casting an appraising gaze over Adele, he smirked again. "From the look and condition of your armour, I'd think you know much about getting used to old things and not wanting to change it for something better."
Arguing that was pointless. Besides, the knife with it's worn down handle and a blade that had obviously lived through hundreds of sharpenings did look old.
"Your childhood present, then?"
"Almost," he agreed with sudden glee. "A present I made for myself."
She tilted her head, studying him, feeling an unwanted grin coming to her lips: "You stole it."
"Nope. I tried. Got caught. Didn't care much for the guy to whom it belonged, but wanted the knife badly, so made a run for it," the ranger glanced into the distance, his lips curving in a strange smirk, "after stabbed him in the leg."
…So it is about Marcus… - Adele felt a slight shiver crawling up her spine, remembering those were the words the boy had told him in Ember. - …Damn, can't really blame you for trying your best to keep away from him.
"And that man? He simply allowed you to go?"
Bishop grinned: "Come on, who would have? But even though he was a tracker, it took him three days to find me in the wilds. So he let me keep it. And decided I was worth an effort in teaching," he shrugged. "So I prefer thinking I didn't steal this knife, but pretty damn earned it."
Adele said nothing, watching his face, striped with scars that appeared to be more and more the longer one looked. Perhaps, some part of him never changed since then. Still the same small stubborn boy running all alone through the woods from the follower, not giving a damn about anything but to keep what little he had…
"…I'm sorry," she muttered.
Bishop fixed her with an impassive studying look: "For what?"
She wanted to answer, but did not. After all, what was there to feel sorry for? His life of hardships? But he survived. What doesn't kill you makes you stronger. If that was true, then, perhaps, in some ways he was much stronger than she was.
Was that an excuse enough? For his attitude, his disdain towards those weaker? Those who regretted something? Valued something?
And why in the Hells did it matter to her to find an excuse for him at all?
"…We've got a long day tomorrow, so you'd better get some sleep," she murmured finally. "You look like shit."
Another smirk, as dry and impassible as his usual snide tone: "You are not exactly a cherry-tree in bloom yourself, princess."
She shook her head and sighed, turning away from him to start for the cave: "Sometimes can't help but wish people were less honest."
"Yeah," he said to her back. "And that's why you are a fool."
It was the best time to leave, without answer or even acknowledgement, but Adele discovered herself unable to. Instead she turned back, staring at him going back to his work, as if for him she had already left, then gazed at his bow leaned against the stub he was sitting on.
"…May I?"
He looked between her and the weapon – and Adele realized in what a stupid position she got herself just a second before he stared at her arm. Funny how she had forgotten of the pain still throbbing faintly over and under her skin. But it was too late to back off, so when he stared up at her face she met his gaze calmly, arching her brow in silent question. He didn't say anything, if not for a familiar 'not-really-smiling' look – as he was, probably, already savouring her imminent defeat – but picked up his half-full quiver and tossed it to her. Adele caught it, hanging on her shoulder, bent down and took the bow, checking the string.
Perfect balance, faultlessly tight stretch…
Quite out of the blue she thought she actually missed Daeghun.
Taking out an arrow, she nocked it with a long-ago trained movement and drew the string, ignoring her arm screeching in protest, focusing instead on a pleasant creak of wood as the bow cambered in her hands. It had been a while, her last encounter with a weapon was in the Sword Mountains, with that pathetic orcish excuse for a bow, and her fingers had long become estranged from the truly taut string that now cut into them.
Still, it felt nice.
Without easing her hold, she skimmed over the silvery darkness of Duskwood, looking for a mark. It took several moments, but soon a shade of some nightbird flashed to her right, and Adele opened her fingers, letting the arrow go.
A whizz, wet crunch, abrupt squeak, and a rustle of feathers falling down from the body pinned to the tree…
In her mind, Adele winced in disappointment, glancing at the arrow that hit the bird in the chest, not the head she aimed at.
Bishop gave a half-hearted approving hum, getting to his feet and coming up to her, also staring at the mark: "Not bad. For a cripple."
"Meh," Adele shrugged. "Been better. Need more practice."
"...Right."
The ranger drew another arrow out from the quiver on her shoulder, standing behind her back, and lifted up the bow she kept holding. Closing his hands over her own, not paying attention (or not diving a damn) to her flinch as his hold pushed her fingers tighter into the bow, he turned the weapon to a more horizontal position and bumped his cheek against her temple, making her cock her head to the side to match the tilt of the bow. She obeyed, but more on instinct than purposefully, because all of a sudden became too much aware that her body was leaned against another body, warm steely flesh encased in leather, another chest also moving in breathing, pressing against her back, the slightest of gestures sending another hand slide over hers…
"Don't sleep, princess," Bishop whispered to her ear, aiming the arrow at the dead bird. "Practice."
The strength of the pull sent the string ringing as he let go of it, the arrow swishing through the night, hitting precisely into the spot the previous one got, splitting the shaft in two and driving the remaining metal head wholly into the trunk.
Adele blinked.
"…Neat," she croaked in surprise, but came over it, teasing. "For a showing-off ass."
He chuckled, thawing her insides to a purring gurgling pool: "Don't envy - practice."
"Well, I hit it in the first place, didn't I?" she moved her shoulder in a shrug. "So if it comes to that, I'll manage."
"No, you won't," his tone changed, half-mocking, half-threatening. "Because in your desire to show-off you easily allowed someone to get at your back. So lesson screwed, princess."
She didn't move, still staring straight ahead, and smiled: "It wasn't someone. It was you," turning her head slightly, she glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. "And trust me, I knew it." Not giving him time to answer, Adele looked back at the tree and the bird. "So as I said, I'll manage."
"…Oh well, maybe," he admitted condescendingly. "But right now that in no small part depends on how much had the Luskans put on your head."
She frowned, any mirth draining from her mood. "You just had to bring that up, didn't you?" she drawled coldly.
"I might agree for ten."
"…Huh?"
"Ten thousand. For Torio Claven," the same everyday tone, uncaring, as if speaking of weather. "If you scrape up that much, of course."
The tree was still there, and she still gaped at it, but no longer saw.
"I thought you were a ranger… a smuggler at worst, not an assassin for hire."
He snorted: "For ten thousand I have no problems of becoming one," she didn't want turning and looking at him that very moment, didn't want at all, so kept peering furiously into the distance. "Come now, princess, I saw your face at Ember. Somehow I doubt that death of that Luskan bitch is going to upset you."
"It won't," she agreed calmly, without even giving thought to it – what use could be in denying the obvious? "But it's not like she was the one to kill those people. She wasn't even the one to come up with the plan, I'm sure. She's just a pretty face and a glib tongue Garius is using as a screen. His tool. His slut, perhaps. But hardly any more than that."
"What, she didn't deserve death?" Bishop mocked.
"…She didn't deserve ten thousand to be spent on her," it was weird and scary to even discuss such things, but at the same time… relieving. Adele smiled. "Besides, if only you saw her… Trust me, for a woman like that, public humiliation from losing the trial would be much more horrible than death."
"But you need to win the trial for that."
"…Thanks for having faith in me."
"It's not me who is an expert in blind faith here."
"Sand is going to make it. If not for me, then for himself. He's got too much pride to lose it."
The ranger was silent, but Adele could feel his intent stare at the back of her head.
"Even if," he drawled at last, "you'll somehow get to win this blasted trial, do you really think that the Arcane Brotherhood or even Garius alone is going to simply let you slide? You are already marked and pretty damn surely will be having assassins stalking you till the end of your days."
She shrugged: "Then I'll be killing them. Killing until they get that it's better not to stalk me."
"Cocky again, hmm?"
"Githyanki got the point. Luskans can't be denser than them."
"Oh, you know them so well, don't you."
Adele shut her eyes. She knew she was speaking all of it out for the sake of convincing herself one more time – and right now Bishop's everlasting cynical attitude wasn't helping.
It's like she was arguing with herself.
"Gods, you know them so well, don't you," she grouched.
He snorted behind her back: "Of course I don't. Why would a Luskan know Luskans?"
She did turn around this time. Slowly, looking up at him and meeting the return stare, cold, unblinking, examining…
He was waiting for her reaction…
Fear, blame, indignation…
Luskan…?
"…You… served them?"
His face hardened, corner of his mouth twitching in something between a smirk and a grimace: "A tavern wench serves, princess. I worked for them, yes. Wasn't amongst my favourite works, if it makes you feel better."
"…And what did you do?"
That drew out a chuckle, "Really, princess. Your guess?"
She tried to banish the memory of villagers in Ember, methodically and regularly razed out…
No, he…
Tried, but could not.
…no?
Just like she could not bring herself to feel scared. Simply could not. In the back of her mind she knew that this was exactly the moment she should be screaming and running away in terror. But she had no wish to.
Perhaps because even deeper, somewhere at the bottom of her self she had known for some time already… Known that there was only one type of hunter that could be so used to death of beings just like himself, indifferent to the point he found it funny… A hunter for humans. Assassin.
She had known indeed. And at that very bottom she had already been fine with it.
"So what happened?" she asked, allowing herself a small smile. "You got expelled for bad behaviour?"
Surprise flit through amber iris, almost respectful, and he smiled in return fleetingly, shaking his head: "The reward system appeared to be a pile of crap. You work well – you get paid well, but at the same time your tasks become more and more tough, and you don't have any say in it. One day I had enough of them. So I left."
"…You can simply leave Luskan service?"
A mistake.
His eyes narrowed, flashed with something close to suspicion – for a second, and then Bishop tilted his head in a long-familiar taunt, giving her a just as familiar wry smirk:
"Yeah, you can," derisive notes were back in his voice. "If you know the ways. But you don't need to know every twist and turn of this story, princess. Sensitive as you are, you might lose your sleep completely," he stooped a bit forward to her, lowering his voice. "And we wouldn't want that, now would we?"
Adele smiled again, catching herself on a wish to hood her eyes, lower her lashes…
"I'm tougher than I look."
"Oh yeah, I noticed. Hugging giant spiders, shoving her arms in wolves' jaws…" he sneered. "You can believe in your immortality all you want – right until the noose tightens around your neck."
She wasn't able to stop a short laugh: "Please, lovely… For as long as I remember myself, I used to wake up in the middle of the night, my gown stained with blood I coughed out in my sleep. Trust me, I never believed in my immortality. So I prefer winning this crap if you don't mind."
"And if you won't?"
"Well…" she sighed and spread her hands. "Then I'll die, whatcha gonna do? What's this about, anyway? You want me to break down and cry on your shoulder?"
Bishop winced: "Hells spare me, you've got paladin for that. I just know you have your kinks – but I never thought you want to die so stupidly, on some fucking gallows in the market-square with a mob of gawkers staring at your last twitchings."
"I don't want to die at all, stupidly or not," she cut off. "I want to clear my name. I want to be proclaimed innocent on the whole damned kingdom. So that never again not a single blasted soul would even dare to think me capable of something like that. I don't mind answering for what I did. But for what I did."
"That would make paladin tear in pride," the ranger snorted. "Why the Hells do you care what others think of you?"
"I don't care what others think of me, I care what I think of me. And those people were killed because of me."
"Nah, don't flatter them. They were killed 'cause they were a mindless helpless cattle. And there's only one way for the cattle – to the slaughter. Now or later, doesn't matter."
"Even if so. It was me who got accused. So I'll be the one to end this shit."
He suddenly chuckled: "So we have a virtuous egoist here? Now that's something fresh."
Adele fell silent, looking coldly at him and refusing to admit that his words had struck something in her. But he seemed to get that his arrow hit the mark anyway, as his eyes glittered with held-back laughter.
"Touché," he concluded.
She jerked her head up: "At least as sure as Hells I don't care what you think, ranger."
"Oh, I'm not expecting you to. My job is to tell, your job is to ignore," Bishop leaned a bit more forward, holding her gaze. "Just like those dead fools strewn all around Ember did."
"They didn't have a choice. Neither do I."
"Until no one chopped off your legs and arms, there's always a choice. And if you truly didn't care what anyone would think, you would have followed my advice and simply disappeared."
"Uh-huh," she snorted. "To give Luskan and Neverwinter a chance to compete in who's going to put a bigger bounty on my head or get me first? Don't think they-" Adele trailed off, seeing a meaningful smirk snake over his lips as he was watching her, and arched her brow questioningly.
His smirk widened. "So, you were thinking over my offer to hit the road, hmm, oh brave little squire?"
She felt a momentarily emptiness inside, as if he tripped her, and now she was balancing between keeping her ground and falling...
"I'd be a fool not to," she said slowly, trying to grasp any mean to change the subject, and somehow even found strength to smile. "But, actually, what I did think was that those words of yours were just another ass comment. Now appears it was an offer?"
"...Don't know," he took a step towards her, bringing his face closer, his voice dropping, its insinuating hoarseness much more discernable - not just by ear, but physically, as if her skin was brushed by a piece of rough yet soft fabric, brushed lightly, almost not touching... "And if it was?"
How's he doing it all to his voice?
Adele pursed her lips, ignoring how dry they became, suppressing a need to lick them...
She could not. Not when his eyes were devouring her smallest mistakes, searching for her tiniest weakness... like a hunter that set his traps, tied his snares, and waited patiently for his victim to misstep and get into one of them.
"...Well..." Adele drawled, "Considering your... generous selfless nature - I'm afraid my agreement would have cost me too much."
"Not much more than saving your... soft... warm... sweet... hide back at Solace Glade," he murmured, cocking his head, and Adele had to wonder when exactly she had missed the moment he came this close to her. Close enough for her to feel his breath as he added: "But I'm ready to negotiate."
"Everything you do has a price, huh?" her voice also dropped to whisper, quiet, barely audible, as if melted in the warmth that filled her veins.
"True," his hooded eyes travelled lower, locking on her lips. "After all, there should be a reward for saving the princess."
She wasn't able to hold back a chuckle - a treacherous chuckle, wrong chuckle, too thick, too throaty, too feminine... "Well now, aren't you Prince Charming..."
He laughed, a quiet but deep sound from the very centre of his chest, "So what'll be, then, princess? Half of the kingdom?" she felt his hand sliding up her throat, his thumb flickering over the underside of her jaw. She felt how rough his fingers were, calloused by many years of firing a bow, by many strings and featherings… Just as well she felt how obediently a vein on her neck started pulsing under his touch. "Half of a swamp?"
Some part of her, that was still clutching his bow in her hand, was itching to shove the weapon into his guts or at least slap him hard enough for an echo to ring through the whole Duskwood. But there was another part, that stood back and only wondered if the bastard indeed tasted as good as she remembered…
"Bishop," she finally managed. "You might really want to try a different approach. Since this one clearly not working."
"Of course it doesn't," he smirked, tilting her chin up with his fingers. "That's why you are not leaving, but standing here wondering if that son of a bitch is going to kiss you already."
She mirrored his smirk, bringing her hips just a tad forward, inclining her head a little to the side, enough for her hair to brush his palm. "…Is he?"
His hand slowly slipped down her neck, almost turning away her collar, then along her shoulder – until he hooked up the strap of his quiver hanging there and pulled it off, throwing it on his own shoulder.
"Go to sleep, princess," he said with the same unfaltering smirk. "We've got a long day tomorrow indeed. I need my sleep and in no mood of doing you here in the grass."
"…Now that's a tear-jerker," she scoffed, taking a step back, even though her legs seemed to be made of jelly. "Think I'm gonna cry."
"Please, don't. Otherwise the paladin will cut my guts out, then build a fence around you, on which the druidess will build a greenhouse for her fragile flower."
"Will it be close enough for me to see your cut out guts?"
"Don't know, ask them."
With a slow shake of her head she stepped back completely. "You know, lovely, you should thank the gods you are at least handsome. Otherwise you would've been a multiversal disaster."
He nodded, the unmistakable mocking sparkle to his eyes: "You aren't hopeless either."
Adele didn't answer, twirling on her threaded-down heels, and strode towards the cave before her lips curved in an unbidden smile. Biting down treacherous lips, she finally banished it.
I don't like him… I can't like him! It's just his smell, his damned smell does something to my… what are they called? …receptors – and that's it. Yeah, probably. Need to ask Sand, he should know…
Or is it just so bloody annoying, - her inner voice added, the voice of that cold-blooded calculating part of her that won every battle and was ready to squeal in delighted agreement at every – every single one – of the ranger's words, - that you've met a man whom you can't see through? A man who appeared to be more than a match for you? A man who makes you feel weak?
…It's scary to think that my match can be only a man like that…
"By the way," Bishop added into her back, "picking up arrows after you is only going to enlarge your debt."
Without turning, Adele threw up a middle finger.
In the darkness behind her back the ranger smirked. Or not. Hells knew him.
