I hate to interrupt our schedule right at the beginning, but to improve the flow of the story, I'm releasing a chapter next week on the off week, then again on the week I'm supposed to, and from there on back to biweekly. If that's confusing, I'll just show you. So, like:
July 25 (today): release
August 1: release (This is the oddball)
Augast 8: release
Augast 15: no release
Augast 22: release
Augast 29: no release
September 5: release
...and so on, back to every other week.
Now enjoy the chapter.

Chapter Two

A Moogle Village
Year 706 of the Old Valendian Calendar

Eighteen days after Bahamut's fall

Balthier sighed.

"We need to leave."

Fran sat on a bench far too short for her, hands folded in her lap. "We are far from civilization," she said. "We're likely to get lost if we leave on our own."

"At least we'd be trying to do something, unlike the last four days," Balthier said. "Maybe you've gotten settled in here while I was unconscious, but I don't like wasting time. If those Moogles can't leave soon, we're just going to have to find our way ourselves."

Voices from outside the tent drifted to Balthier's ears; excited Moogle chatter. The furry little creatures made a storm of noise at anything unfamiliar, as he'd learned when he'd stepped outside the log cabin for the first time. Balthier frowned, glancing at the tent flap.

Melody stuck her head through the flap.

"Oh! Come on, kupo!" she called, beckoning with one hand. "Both of you! Hurry!"

"What's going on?" Balthier said.

"A hunting party met a traveler going through the forest," Melody said. "She says she's heading for the city, and she knows the way. The hunters brought her to the village; she's just arrived. We told her about you, and she said she might be willing to take you to the city."

"Ah-ha." Balthier turned to Fran, who still sat. "Well, what are we waiting for?"

Balthier and Fran followed Melody outside. The sun shone in the afternoon sky, rays falling through bright green leaves overhead.

"She said the name of the city, too," Melody said. "It was called…" Her forehead furrowed in thought. "Berven… Berviny…"

"Bervenia?" Balthier asked.

Melody nodded rapidly. "Oh. Yes, that was it. Bervenia."

Bervenia was the capital of Rozarria. Across Jagd Yensa, and half of Ivalice, from Rabanastre. Balthier sighed inwardly. Just my luck.

"Over there!" Melody pointed. Several Moogles crowded around a young woman dressed in a navy tunic, grey leggings, and a brown cloak flowing behind her like a cape. A row of daggers adorned her belt. Her hair flowed around her shoulders in loose black curls, and out of her hair rose round-topped, furry ears, a dark shade of grey. Balthier frowned. Viera? She didn't seem to have the long arms and fingers Fran did, or the animal-esc points to her features. Her ears were shorter and stouter, too.

"Yeah, I get it, puffballs," the woman said, shooing the Moogles with one hand. "Where are these visitors of yours?"

"I would assume that's her?" Balthier said to Melody, not taking his eyes off the strange woman.

"Oh, yes, kupo. I saw her with the hunting group at the entrance," Melody said.

The Moogles around the not-quite-Viera woman bounced and pointed towards Balthier and Fran; Balthier couldn't make out their voices from that distance. The woman looked up, eyes narrowing ever so slightly. She nodded and followed a brown furred Moogle, who, if Balthier recalled correctly, was Melody's father.

"Here they are, kupo. Our visitors," Melody's father said, turning to Balthier and Fran. "This is Clori. She says she can take you to the city."

"I said I might. Haven't decided yet," Clori said. Her voice was low and silky. Not a trace of Fran's accent. She glanced between Balthier and Fran, then shrugged one shoulder. "Alright. I guess we'll be traveling together."

"Oh? Just like that?" Balthier arched one eyebrow at this strange visitor. "You'll help a few strangers out just like that?"

"You should take advantage of my good graces," Clori said, lips curving up in a smirk. "They don't come around all that often." She held out her hand. "Clori Trells. The puffball already told you that, though."

Studying her with narrowed eyes, Balthier shook her hand. Not long enough to be Vieran. "This is Fran." He nodded to his partner. "And I'm Balthier."

Clori's eyes were forest green, with faint flecks of brown. Catlike, but not as slanted as Fran's, or any of the Viera Balthier had seen in Eruyt Village. Besides, Viera all had the same brown eyes and silver hair.

"Just Balthier?" Clori asked, one eyebrow rising in a perfect arch.

"Yes. Just Balthier," Balthier replied, releasing her hand. Honestly, people never asked him that.

"Ah-ha." Clori nodded once, smirking her smirk. "Alright then. We leaving? I can't wait around all day."

Not waiting for a reply, she turned on her heel and strode towards the entrance, shoes pwoofing in the dirt.

"You're leaving then? Already?" Melody said. She sounded disappointed. Hadn't she been terrified of Balthier four days ago? Likely it was his forest-born Vieran companion she felt a connection to. However, Fran didn't answer; her taciturn eyes were fixed on Clori.

"Yes, we're leaving," Balthier replied. "I'm afraid we can't afford to stick around."

"There's nothing more we can do for you?" Melody's father asked.

"No, you've done more than enough," Balthier said, shaking his head. He nodded to the Moogle. "Many thanks for your hospitality." He motioned to his partner. "Come on then, Fran. Let's be off."

Balthier started off after Clori.

"Balthier," Fran said, keeping her voice low. She walked slow, hanging back from Clori. She made a quick move of her head, motioning for Balthier to join her. Frowning, Balthier slowed to match Fran's pace.

"What is it?" he asked.

Fran looked ahead. "Her uniform. She's a Red Fang."

Balthier glanced at their new guide, who walked several yards ahead. So absorbed trying to identify her race, Balthier hadn't noticed her blue tunic and brown cloak were the same as the Red Fangs who'd kidnapped Fran in Lowtown. He frowned. Just one more reason not to trust the charming young lady. Whether it'd end well or not, Balthier figured going with her was better than another day wasted in the Moogle village. "You're right," he said to Fran. "Still, we don't have much choice. But we'll keep our eyes open."

Fran was silent, not meeting Balthier's eyes. Then she nodded.

"If you can't keep up, I am not waiting around for you," Clori called over her shoulder. Balthier sighed, motioned to Fran with one hand, and lengthened his stride. He and Fran caught up with Clori at the village entrance. A lush forest of wide tree trunks, dappled sunlight, and bright green waited ahead.

"I don't suppose you're up to date on current events, are you?" Balthier asked as they walked into the cool forest air. If he could establish everything had gone well for Ashe and Dalmasca after Bahamut's crash, it would take one small load off his mind.

"How recent are we talking?" Clori asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Within the past two weeks."

"I've been out here for four, so, can't really help," Clori replied, shoulders rising in a shrug. She narrowed her eyes at Balthier. "Why the big concern?"

"Nothing too important," Balthier replied.

"What are you two doing out here, anyway?" Clori said, glancing between Balthier and Fran. "A few more miles west and we'll be off the edge of the map. Not really a place for tourists."

"We're sky pirates, and we have our reasons," Balthier replied, holding Clori's scrutinizing gaze. "I could ask you the same thing. Four weeks is a long time to wander the wilderness all alone."

Clori's eyes narrowed. Then she shrugged and wordlessly strode off into the woodlands.

…

Orange light burst from the horizon, visible in broken sections through the tree trunks as the sun sank in a dazzling display, beautiful in its dying moments. A fire crackled, the pleasant smell of burning wood mixing with other forest scents. Balthier stood with his back to the fire at the edge of camp, thumbs hooked in his pockets. The sunset, smoldering like low-burning embers, calling to remembrance a thousand similar scenes.

"I like the sunset!"

Balthier let out a sigh, turning away from the display. One more thing to disturb his peace of mind. His last real conversation with the princess had hardly ended on comfortable terms. What would he say to her now?

Balthier shook his head, packing those thoughts into some dark corner of his mind. There are… bigger things for me to worry about now.

Balthier turned, walked back to the fire, and sat next to it. Fran crouched on the other side, stirring the newly lit flames with a stick. No bedrolls lay around the campfire; not even Clori had one; they'd be sleeping on the ground that night. Clori sat in the nook of a tree's roots, working her fingernails with a knife and ignoring her tagalongs. That had been her habit most of the day. Clori didn't seem one for deep conversation. Or perhaps she simply didn't trust Balthier and Fran. Balthier knew he didn't trust her.

Balthier glanced at his strange new companion. Clori's green eyes lifted to meet his, her knife held motionless above the up-pointing fingers of one hand. Firelight danced along the clean, shining blade. Balthier looked her over again. She didn't seem Vieran, yet those ears couldn't be human.

"What's the matter?" Clori said, a smile curving her lips. "You're staring like you've never seen a halfling before."

Balthier's eyebrows sank. A halfling? He'd been coming to that conclusion. "Well, forgive me for not assuming." Balthier managed to pull off the words in his usual smooth manner. "It's hardly common."

"You're telling me. Everyone looks that way when they figure it out." Clori stuck her knife back into one of the many sheaths along her belt and sat up straight. "Enough of that. There's something I want to know." Her catlike eyes narrowed, the green dark and flickering in the red firelight. "How come you two know what the Red Fangs are?"

Balthier tensed. He just wanted to get to Bervenia without trouble, and this smelled like trouble. "I don't follow."

"No, don't do that," Clori said. "I heard you, when we were leaving forest paradise back there." Clori flicked one grey ear with her finger. "I may not be able to do a lick o' magic, but I got the hearing well enough. So, how do a couple of lost mercenaries know about the Red Fangs? We keep secret, as a rule."

"We've been around a bit. Run into your kind once or twice. Our territories overlap somewhat," Balthier replied, hoping the vague answer would be enough for her. "And I prefer 'sky pirates.' It's more dignified."

Clori's eyes remained narrowed. "Yeah." She shrugged, relaxing instantly. "Fine. Good enough, merc." She leaned back against her tree, slid a knife from its sheath, and went to work on her other hand. Balthier sighed, figuring it wasn't worth the effort to express his displeasure at being called 'merc.' However, he had questions of his own. He didn't want trouble, but he figured, after Clori's last comment, it was safe enough.

"While we're on the topic," Balthier said, and Clori raised her head, looking most perturbed, "you Red Fangs never struck me as a particularly moralistic bunch. Why are you helping us? And how do I know you won't slit our throats in the night?"

Clori let out a short laugh. "I'm not heartless, you know. I already got what I came here for, and you're not slowing me down. Couldn't just leave a couple lost travelers alone in the woods, could I?"

Balthier narrowed his eyes. She sounded genuine, but still… "Forgive me if I don't trust you fully. Fran's kind have had some trouble with you before."

Clori's eyes darted to Fran, her head perfectly still. "Yeah, that… crops us sometimes, if times are tough and we need extra. Doesn't sound pleasant." Clori shrugged. "I've never been on one of those missions. Guess I could see how others could do it, but we share blood, you know. Wouldn't be nice. And don't worry." Clori moved her eyes back to Balthier and pointed her dagger towards him, a smirk curving her lips. "I won't be slitting any throats. Blood makes rust." She stroked her blade with one finger. "Killing two strangers isn't worth shortening a dagger's lifespan."

Clori sat back and continued cleaning her fingernails. Balthier exchanged a glance with Fran.

"We should reach the river by afternoon tomorrow," Clori spoke up again. "We ford that, and we'll be almost to Bervenia. Hunters have their way in those woods, so watch out for traps."

"What kind of traps are we talking about?" Balthier asked, arching an eyebrow.

Clori looked up at Balthier and dropped her knife into her lap. She put her hands together at the wrists and clapped them, mimicking snapping jaws. "Traps." She smiled. "So watch your step, if you want to make home with both legs."

…

"You said we were fording a river," Balthier said, raising his voice above the sound of rushing water. "Fording implies wading through shallow water. That does not look fordable."

Clori's shoulders rose and fell in a shrug. "Ford, cross; does it matter? This is how I got across. The water's a little higher than it was then, but we'll be fine."

River water rushed by with a mighty roar, crashing in rapids around round topped boulders sticking like teeth from the angry, white waves. Clori sprang from the bank and landed lightly on the nearest rock, not stumbling for a moment before bouncing to the next one. She stopped and spun back to face Balthier and Fran, feet pivoting perfectly on the wet stone.

"Come on!" The water nearly drowned Clori's voice. "I'm not waiting around!"

Balthier heaved a sigh. He turned to Fran. "Well? You ready, Fran?"

Fran's brown eyes were locked on the angry river. She said nothing.

Balthier took that as a yes. Gritting his teeth, he jumped to the first rock. His shoes found no purchase on the slippery surface. Balthier scrambled for a moment, finally gaining his balance. Cold spray soaked his pantlegs and shoes.

"Faster than that, merc!" Clori called. She skipped to the next rock, laughing, a noise that sounded distinctly evil. Balthier sighed through clenched teeth, half wishing she'd slip and crash into the icy water. No, couldn't wish that; childish thought. Still, it'd be mightily satisfying.

Balthier glanced back; Fran stood poised on the bank, waiting for him to move. Balthier jumped for the next rock. He carried on, leaping from precarious foothold to precarious foothold while Fran started the treacherous crossing behind him. Clori had stopped up ahead, standing on a larger rock a little more than halfway across. She had both hands perched on her hips, watching Balthier with an amused half-smile. Apparently, leaping between wet rocks over rushing rapids wasn't challenging enough for her.

Balthier jumped, joining Clori on the large rock. He managed not to stumble that time.

"I thought you said you weren't going to wait around for us lesser beings?" Balthier said, raising his voice above the roar. Water sloshed around the rock they stood on, occasionally reaching over to lick their feet.

Clori shrugged. Her cloak, wet with spray, clung to her shoulders. "Watch out. Here comes your full-blood friend."

Balthier glanced over his shoulder, then stepped aside to make room for Fran as she leaped lithely to join them. Fran's silver hair glittered with dampness. That was just from the spray; she hadn't slipped once. Balthier, on the other hand, already had one pantleg soaked from a near-brush with falling. Balthier sighed. Perhaps 'us' lesser beings wasn't correct. All this Vieran agility is starting to make me feel inadequate.

"Time's a wastin'." Clori turned and motioned with one hand. "We're almost over! Just- Ah!"

A wave crashed into the large rock they stood on, spraying over the top with mighty force. Icy cold slapped Balthier's senses, sending him stumbling back. Fran gasped, Clori cried out. Wet stone slipped under Balthier's feet, and he threw himself forward before falling back into the waves. His chest hit the stone hard, driving the wind from him, but he managed to keep his grip on it. Chilling water wrapped his lower half, clawing to drag him away.

Sucking in painful breaths, Balthier craned his neck to get a better view. Fran bobbed in the water behind him, fingers dug against the worn side of a massive boulder. Clori hugged a rock too small to stand on a few yards away.

"I'm slipping!" Fran called.

"Hold on!" Balthier peeled one hand off the rock, reaching back towards Fran. His bad arm remained wrapped around the rock. The purchase wasn't enough. He had to grab Fran quickly or they'd both be carried away.

Balthier stretched out his hand. Fran pulled one hand from her rock and reached towards his. Their fingers just barely made contact when she slipped back with a gasp.

"Fran!" Balthier shouted.

Fran went under the white water. She reappeared coughing several yards farther, then was gone again. Then Balthier felt his own single grip slip.

Oh, no.

Balthier spun, trying to grab on again, but it was no use. The rock was too wide to get a good purchase. He slipped into fridged waves. Water closed over his head, deadening sound save the bubbling in his ears. The current swung him away until his back hit something. Another rock? Ignoring the bruises, Balthier spun and locked his fingers into a crack in the stone, then pulled himself up; his head broke through the waves into the world of light and sound. He coughed the water he'd swallowed, relishing every gasp of air. Once he'd recovered enough oxygen, Balthier turned and scanned the rapids. Just a few feet away, Clori had heaved herself half out of the water, hands on top of her tiny rock.

"Over there!" Clori nodded past her rock, where the sandy bank lay beyond waters clear of rocks. "The water's calmer!"

"Right! We swim for it!" Balthier called back. Clori released her rock, vanished under the water for a moment, and reappeared breast-stroking for the shore. Balthier scanned the raging rapids behind one last time. Nothing in sight but rocks and angry white waves. Clenching his teeth, Balthier let go and swam for the beach.

Balthier dropped to his knees on the sun-bleached sand, heaving breaths of fresh, warm air in and out of his aching lungs. Quelling a coughing fit, he straightened. Clori lay on her back on the beach, eyes closed. She was soaked through, shiny black hair sticking to her cheeks and the sand under her head. The fur on her ears looked just as black. Sunlight glittered on a silver chain at her neck that disappeared below her neckline. Balthier hadn't noticed that before.

Her long, glossy eyes slid open.

"Full-blood? We lose her?" Clori asked.

"Fran can swim; she'll be fine, provided there aren't any waterfalls around," Balthier said. He pushed up on one knee and stood; the warm sun was nice, but his wet clothes still chilled him. He scanned the river behind him one more time. Nothing. Oh, this is not what I need right now.

"So we look for her, then, right?" Clori said.

Balthier nodded. He put a hand to his chin, frowning. "When the water slows enough, Fran will head for shore. Our best bet is to head downriver. Hopefully, Fran won't assume we kept heading for Bervenia, intending to meet up there." But Fran had a lot of experience under her belt. Balthier trusted her intuition.

Balthier turned back to Clori, who remained motionless on the sand. "All this assuming you don't mind breaking your schedule, of course."

Clori half-smirked. "Nah. Gotta find full-blood before we get to the city." Clori heaved herself to a sitting position and let out a pathetic sigh. She turned liquid green eyes to Balthier. "Are you gonna be a gentleman and help me up?"

Balthier studied her for a few moments, then rolled his eyes with a sigh. He strode to Clori and extended a hand. She took it, and he pulled her back to her feet.

"Thank you," Clori purred. She ran both hands through her wet black hair, then shook loose the clinging sand particles. She grinned. "Let's go find full-blood."

…

Birds twittered as Balthier and Clori tramped down a faint path within a few trees of the river. Balthier was acutely aware of Clori's stare. She studied him with narrowed eyes of leafy green, the faintest frown betraying confusion. Balthier found it difficult not to return the stare, glancing at her out the corner of his eyes every few minutes.

"What's the matter?" Balthier said at last, turning to meet Clori's gaze. "You're staring like you've never seen a human before."

"Ha-ha," Clori said dryly. "Funny. Nah, must be my eyes. Maybe I hit my head when we went off that rock." Clori looked away, using one finger to rub the rim of each eye. She squinted sideways at Balthier for an instant, then locked her gaze on the forest ahead.

Viera. Myst. Clori had she couldn't use magic, but if she had Vieran blood, she might be able to see myst, Balthier extrapolated. Perhaps not as clearly as full-blooded Viera, perhaps she wouldn't notice unless it was breaking or shattering or whatever it was Fran said it did around him…

Something he wanted to work out, but not by discussing it with Clori. Perhaps a safer topic was in order.

"Exactly what was it the Red Fangs wanted all the way out here, anyway?" he asked.

"Hm?" Clori turned back to him. She seemed to take a moment to register the question, then let out a short, dry chuckle. "Sorry, can't tell. Unless you pay, we don't tell you anything. And if you do, you only get to know what you paid us to do."

"Don't like sharing?" Balthier asked, arching an eyebrow.

"We keep secret, as a rule," Clori replied, voice slow and low. "I told you that, didn't I, merc?"

Balthier bit back a sharp remark, wishing he could simply focus on putting one foot in front of the other. "I would prefer it if you didn't call me that."

Clori smiled. "Aw, why not? What's wrong with it?"

"It's not very dignified," Balthier replied.

Clori gave her short chuckle. "Oh, come on, loosen your tie. You care so much about your dignity?"

Balthier glared sideways at her. "As a matter of fact, I do. It's something I pride myself very greatly on."

"Is that so?" Clori said, tilting her head.

"Yes. And just so we're perfectly clear-" Balthier turned his head to face her fully. "I don't trust you, Clori Trells."

"Oh," Clori said, smiling all the while. "And what exactly don't you trust about me?"

"Anything, if I'm to be honest," Balthier replied.

Clori let out an exaggerated sigh, finally turning her gaze from Balthier. "And here I thought we'd bonded so- AH!"

Clori broke off with a scream. The sound of snapping metal splintered in Balthier's ears. He spun.

"Clori!"

Clori dropped to one knee, pain masked with dull shock over her face. The jagged metal jaws of a hunter's trap clamped around her right shin, holding her foot to the ground. Clori gripped the metal with both hands, as if that would do any good. Crimson welled around the serrated edges.

Balthier knelt beside her. "Hold on, let me see."

"Oh, blast it…" Clori let go and leaned back, face screwed with pain. She swallowed hard. Balthier frowned at the contraption; the disk would be the size of a large plate open, ringed with teeth that sank into flesh. The wound was deep, bleeding heavily; Clori was lucky it didn't take her leg clean off. Rivulets of red ran down the steel and Clori's leg, to her shoe and the dirt beneath, soaking her grey legging. Balthier's frown deepened.

"I have to get this off before I can stop the bleeding, which means I have to unprime the spring," Balthier said.

"Just tell me what I have to do," Clori said. Her breath was shaky.

"Hold still."

A spike secured the set of jaws into the ground. The mechanism was on the reverse side. Balthier slid his fingers under the trap and jerked the spike out of the earth. Clori sucked in a breath, stifling a cry of pain as her wounded leg moved. Once all was free from the ground, Balthier inspected the dirt-encrusted spring mechanism. Not complex. No, this would be easy.

Balthier started unwinding the spring, careful not to let it tighten. The bleeding was bad enough as it was. Anymore tension would break the bone.

"Can't you hurry up?" Clori's voice came.

Balthier sighed. "I'm only trying to save your life. You could be more grateful."

Balthier finished disarming the device and pulled the metal jaws back as gently as he could. Clori winced but did her best not to squirm.

With the trap removed, Balthier could properly examine the wound.

"It bad?" Clori pushed up on her hands and sat up. Her face was pale.

Balthier figured he could spare Clori the complex anatomical details. "It's not pretty. Bleeding's bad." Balthier reached into his pocket and extracted two neatly folded, white handkerchiefs.

"You're not going to bandage me up with those," Clori said, brow wrinkling with disapproval.

"As a matter of fact, I am. It's something I've become quite adept at."

After a few minutes of wrapping and tying, Balthier frowned at his work. He saved one handkerchief for a change later.

"What do you know," Clori mumbled under her breath. She twisted her leg to test it and winced. Her shoulders slumped; she looked tired.

"I think now," Balthier said, glancing down the trail with a sigh, "we just have to wait and hope Fran finds us."

"That's your best plan?" Clori said, arching an eyebrow.

Balthier glared at her. "I can't leave you. Predators will be drawn to the smell of blood, and I need you alive to get to the city. Without Fran's healing magic, you won't be going anywhere in a hurry." Balthier's gaze drifted to his makeshift bandage; crimson stains already crept through the white cloth.

Clori sighed. "Point taken."

By the time Balthier had helped drag Clori so she could lean against a tree trunk, orangish sunset light bleed from the west. Balthier decided against starting a fire. Unlike the clearing where they'd stayed last night, thick undergrowth bordered this deer trail. The evening was warm, and though fire would help ward off predators, it wasn't worth the risk.

As night fell, Balthier sat against the tree holding his rifle in his lap. Clori sat nestled between arching tree roots on the other side. She had her eyes closed, breathing evenly. Balthier couldn't tell if she was sleeping or not. Red, black in the fading light, touched the dirt beneath her leg.

Balthier sighed and looked away. A few stars poked through the darkening sky beyond the canopy. He distracted himself by going over his plan again. They'd get to Bervenia, catch a flight to Rabanastre, from there, he owed his allies a visit before any scouring of Ivalice commenced. Finding Vaan and Penelo wouldn't be difficult. Getting in to see the princess would be harder. Honestly, Ashe would probably be busy, being the queen-to-be and all. It might not be worth it.

"What's wrong with you?"

Clori's voice came, her syrupy tone dimmed by exhaustion. Balthier glanced back at her. Her eyelids were half-lifted, as if she didn't deem it worth the effort to hold them fully aloft.

"Nothing you need to worry about," Balthier said. He didn't welcome her company. "Why don't you try and sleep? It might do you some good."

"Sleep? Like this?" Clori scoffed, then pushed against the tree roots, pulling herself to a more upright position. "It's not very comfortable." Clori looked down at the blood-soaked bandages wrapping her leg, scowling. Annoyance masked the pain in her eyes.

Balthier sighed. He stood, slid his rifle into its holster, then knelt by her leg. The bandage was thoroughly wet. He pulled out Clori's second handkerchief, which he'd kept in his pocket. "Hold still while I change the bandage."

Clori smiled. "Alright."

Clori was silent as Balthier worked. She fidgeted every now and then, glancing down the trail. Oh, yes, Balthier thought. I, too, wish Fran would hurry up and get over here. We can only hope she doesn't stop at nightfall. Or step in some carelessly unmanned trap.

"This sort of thing happens a lot to you Red Fangs?" Balthier asked, glancing up briefly.

"Eh, jagds, abandoned mines…" Clori shrugged. "It's not really safe work. Then there're those blasted Peace Keepers-" Clori winced, then continued. "Yeah, I've seen worse than this."

Balthier glanced down the pathway. Insects twittered, a single firefly blinked its cold yellow light as it flittered over the path, faintly visible in the fading sunset. "If this wait gets much longer, I'll fire off a few shots, see if I can't let Fran know where we are. But I don't have a lot left; I'd like to save it in case we get anymore unwelcome visitors."

Clori chuckled. Balthier caught the pain in her breath. "Nah, don't worry. I'm not dying yet," she said. "I said I'd get you back to the city, and Clori always delivers." She smirked. "Always."

"Always?" Balthier arched an eyebrow.

"It's been seven years since Razner picked me up, l and I've never failed a mission."

"Seven years? You must've been young," Balthier said, tightening the wrapping. "I wouldn't think the Red Fangs were in the business of employing teenagers, however agile they may be."

"I didn't have anywhere else to go, filthy half-breed that I am." A knowing smile curved Clori's lips. She fingered the silver chain at her neck. "And I had some things going for me."

Balthier looked up at Clori. "What does that mean?"

Clori shrugged, holding that smile. "Stick around, maybe you'll find out."

Balthier narrowed his eyes, unsure how to interpret that. "And that Razner you mentioned? Who is he?" he asked.

"He's our- Oh, nice try, merc." Clori aborted at the last moment, smiling. "I can't tell you that."

"I thought not." Balthier decided Clori's bandages were tight enough and stood. Besides, he wasn't getting any information, anyway. Why he wanted to know all about the Red Fangs, he hadn't decided yet, but something about them was distinctly shady, especially considering what they had done to Fran. However, Clori- Balthier stopped before deciding he trusted her. He shouldn't. He'd told her he didn't. She was still a Red Fang, whatever she said.

Something cracked in the undergrowth. Balthier and Clori both snapped their gazes to the shadowy bushes. Clori's leafy eyes narrowed.

"Problem, you think?" she said.

"I'll check." Balthier slid his rifle from its strap. "Won't be long."

Balthier left her and stepped into the tree cover. No sign of wolves, or something bigger. Good-

Movement flashed in the corner of his eye. Balthier spun on reflex, snapping up his rifle in the face of-

"Fran?"

A tall, white-eared Viera stood, bow raised, brown eyes cool.

"Balthier." Fran lowered her bow. "You're alright. Where's Clori?"

Balthier sighed. At long last. "Less alright. I am glad to see you alive and well, but our guide needs some assistance. This way." Balthier motioned with one hand and led Fran back onto the trail. Something was uneven about her gate.

"Are you alright? You're limping," Balthier said.

"Don't trouble yourself over me," Fran said, shaking her head. She stopped and nodded ahead. "There she is."

Leaning against the tree trunk ahead, Clori started. The sudden movement jerked her leg and she hissed with pain.

"Hey! Full-blood. Am I glad to see you," Clori said. "You think you could give me some help?"

"Hold still." Fran knelt by Clori's leg and pulled off the bandages. She frowned at the wound, then spread her hands over it. Milky light shone bright as the last vestiges of sunset died. Clori let out a sigh, leaning her head against the bark.

"Clori, how far are we from Bervenia?" Balthier asked.

"Not that far," Clori said. "We'll get there tomorrow, I'd say." She squinted at Fran's work. "If I can walk."

"You will," Fran said. "It won't be completely healed. You should rest… But we must reach town first. This will be enough to get us there."

"Good," Clori said.