We travel for the rest of the day, and make camp that night. We decide to take turns staying up in case of animal attack, and volunteer to take the first shift, but no one really sleeps. Arthur's still convinced I might be a sorceress, whatever that is, and while he hasn't said anything I can tell Merlin's worried his companion might start shooting off his mouth again and I might snap again. As for me, I don't want them running off in the night and getting themselves killed. These people are my responsibility after all.

Eventually, one by one, we all surcome to sleep at some point or another that night. I myself fall asleep at one point only to be roused by Merlin a short time later. "Sorry," He says, sincerely, "It's your turn. I'd thought you'd want me to wake you."

"It's alright," I said, getting myself up.

Merlin lays back down, as if he was going to go back to sleep, but he doesn't closes his eyes. In time he does, only to open them up again.

"Can't sleep?" I ask.

"Yeah," He admits, sitting back up, "I guess I just have a lot on my mind. It's been a rather...weird day, even for us, and trust me, that is an accomplishment."

"What does that mean?" I ask.

Merlin paused for a minute, looking rather thoughtful. At last he says, "Well, let me put it this way, in the past I've encountered, trolls, goblins, enough evil sorceresses to make a coven, ancient prophecies, some rather cross ghosts, and a talking dragon, among other things which might take all night to cover, and possibly most of the morning."

I have no clue what some of those things are, and others I barely know from children stories, so I think Merlin must be kidding around with me. I laugh softly and shake my head.

"I'm serious," Merlin insists.

I stop everything at that because I don't want to hurt his feelings, but still I say, "Okay, so for now, I'll just assume what you just told me is true, I just have one question. What's a sorceress?"

Merlin looks at me like just asked him what color the sky was. Like it was something I should know, and he couldn't believe I didn't.

"It's just," I began, admittedly thrown by the look, "Arthur accused me of being one, and now you're bringing it up again, I just kind of want to know what the big deal is about these guys. "

Now Merlin looks like he's about to have a heart attack and he sputters out, "What is the big-" He takes a deep breath in, clams down then begins again, "Do you have any concept of magic?"

I pause a second, trying to tactfully sum it up. "It's the thing that causes things to happen in stories when there's no other explanation." I say at last.

Merlin doesn't say anything for a moment, then says, "It's not just something in stories, it's a real thing. The practitioners of magic are called many different things, sorcerer, or sorceress for female practitioners are just one of them."

"Oh," I say, not knowing what else to say, "That a big problem in Camelot? Practitioners of magic?"

Merlin's face hardens a bit.

"Look, I wasn't trying to make fun of you, or anything," I say, "I'm sorry if it came out that way. I was just curious."

Merlin pauses for a moment, cocks his head, as if inspecting me, then says at last, "Sometimes it is."

It's quiet again for moment, then Merlin speaks up again. "They're not all evil though. And a lot of those who do bad things, try to attack Camelot and such, they mean, well, they're just misguided. Magic is illegal and Camelot you see, they just want to live in peace. Others, they don't do anything at all, just try to keep their heads down and survive," His raises his eyes so that they meet mine, "Sometimes they can even be helpful."

There something in his eyes that make me wonder exactly why he knows so much on the matter, but I hold my tongue and change the subject. "So, ah, you and Arthur, what's the deal there?" I ask, because it's the only thing I can think of.

"What do you mean?" Merlin asks.

"I mean are you like friends, or co-workers or..."My voice trails off.

"We're friends," Merlin answers, "What's the deal with you and this Private Science Guild group?"

"Well, I don't actually work for them," I say, " I honestly hadn't heard of them before yesterday. They just-crashed into the woods around my home. I wanted them out there, so I volunteered to come get you two because, well, when I saw the route they had mapped out, it was pretty obvious they had no clue what they were doing."

"You know these woods pretty well then?" Merlin asks.

"Yeah," I reply, "My mother hunted here her whole life, she though me and my brother everything she knew. Well, mostly me, Monroe, Monroe, that's my brother, he never really got a taste for it. He lives off in the Capitol City, got some fancy job in the Senator's office."

"You and your family must miss him," Merlin says.

"Sometimes, but we were never really that close, " I say, looking down and digging into the dirt with my foot "And my parents, well, my parents passed on a few years ago."

"Oh," Merlin says awkwardly, "I'm sorry."

"Thank you," I say sincerely, because he's not just saying it because the country just lost a national hero. The funeral was full of people who had never even met them, both times. And to top it off everybody was staring at me and Monroe, as we tried to morn. Monroe was stoic, at least at the grave site, I don't know how he acted in private, he left the day after each funeral, and all I could manage was a few wipes of the eye in public. But after Mom died, I went back home, and I couldn't get comfortable, because it wasn't my place, it was theirs. Then I sat down in a chair and cried, because one, both my parents were gone and missed then , and second, I didn't know what to do without anyone to take care of. Sure, I had the settlers, but they were getting more and more self-sufficient and would be able to protect themselves soon enough. It was almost like a blessing when two weeks later, almost to the day we laid mom in the ground, a hunched over old man who the years had obviously had not been kind to, walked up to me, mistaking me for her.

I get distracted from my thoughts by Merlin saying, "Do you have anyone else?"

I look up, snapped back to the reality of the here and now. "Excuse me?"

"Do you have any other family?" He asks, being more specific.

"No," I admit, "It's just me now."

Merlin's quiet again for a minute, then says, "What about friends? I mean, you must have friends."

"Not really," I say, "I mean, I live in a cabin out here in the woods, so you don't actually meet that many people."

"You don't ever get lonely?" Merlin asks.

"Not really," I say, "I mean, the whole reason I moved out here was to get away from people."

Merlin's quiet, and looks like he's not quite sure how to respond to that.

"It's ...it's complicated okay?" I say, trying to shake off the urge to explain myself to him. I don't have to explain myself to him or anyone else for the matter. Wanting to get the subject off of me and slightly just to get back at him for drugging up so much of my history, I ask, " What about you? You got any family back there in Camelot?"

"Well, I'm not from Camelot, well, not originally at least," Merlin explains, "But yes, I do have a mother back in Ealdor where I from."

"Why'd you move?" I ask.

"It...complicated too," Merlin replies.

I don't push it because he didn't push mine, and we just sit there for moment, then I notice Merlin's eyelids start to slip downward. "You finally getting tired?" I ask.

"Yeah," He says, laying down, "Good night, Primrose. It was actually nice talking to you."

"You too," I say, "Good night."

He goes to sleep and the night is silent, and I'm left alone with my thoughts. A dozen long-buried memories had suddenly been dug up from their graves. Mom holding Dad's hand as he goes through a flash-back, when I was a little girl, too young to understand what was going on. Mom sobbing over his dead body, refusing to be consoled, me unable to pull her off so the doctors can take him away. Me holding onto her after a nightmare trying to convince her it's alright, that's that all it was. Monroe telling me he'll see me again soon and then getting nothing but a few postcards and letters for two years. An old man wrapping me in bear hug and crying telling me he's so, so sorry, and not having a clue what he's talking about, even thought I should. Me taking him home, because I so desperately need someone to care for again, and he needs someone to look after him, if only for a few weeks, because he can't do what he came here to do.

I look up into the night sky. It's so dark it seems the night will never hand, and I'll be here forever, thinking, because I know I won't be getting any more sleep tonight.

The dawn can't come soon enough.