The woods had changed when they went through it again. The smell of rotting was gone, and Adahni felt calm as they trudged through the snow and back towards the garrison at Lake of Tears. The bard found several patches of Chauntea's Grace, a pretty little herb with a purple flower that could grow in any climate. The tea brought her strength, and she was able to keep food down like her old self. With her corporeal stomach full, the growling of her hunger for spirits was quieted some, and she was able to leave the telthor of the forest alone as they trudged through the snow. They stopped twice, once near Gnarlthorn, whose pain Chauntea had evidently eased, but who passed soon after they came, The next night, they slept in the shade of the great tree, basking in its warmth. On the third day, walking back to the garrison, Safiya caught up with Adahni.
"You've been too quiet," she said.
"I'm contemplating," Adahni replied, "The purpose of it all."
"What do you mean?" she asked.
"As I've told you before," Adahni said, "I've borne a burden within me before. The shard of the Sword of Gith – it made it such that I was the only person capable of sending the King of Shadows back to whatever Gods-forsaken plane that Garius dragged him out from. I had to. I had no choice, or the world as we have known is would have come to an end."
"I'm not sure I follow."
"If the Curse of the Spirit Eater consumes me," Adahni said, "It finds a new host, and life goes on as it has in Rashemen for generations. And I can keep myself full, I think. I just... I don't see the point. The way I live, I have maybe twenty or thirty years left in this life... I just sometimes wonder if this whole thing is worth it, if I shouldn't just go down the river and accept my fate."
"That's rather nihilistic," Safiya said, "What has happened that you don't value your own life anymore?"
"It's not that," Adahni replied, "It's not like I'm about to hang myself from the nearest tree, I just... for the last two years I've been on the run, always looking over my shoulder, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Plundering towns and robbing the rich and drinking until all hours of the night was fun at first, but now... I just wonder if saving that life is worth all of this trouble. I'm a pirate, after all."
"I suppose you could see it that way," the red wizard said, "But really, you've been a pirate for two years, you were a Knight Captain before that, and an adventurer before that, and before that a bard and before that a whore and before that a bard again. Boiling your whole life down into just being a pirate seems a little foolish given the number of hats you've worn in your admittedly short life."
"I'm just so tired," she said, "I wonder whether it wouldn't be better to lay my blade down. It's not like the world is depending on me this time."
"Do you really think so little of yourself?" Safiya asked, "The false humility thing is a little played out."
"I'm just so tired," she said, "I didn't mean to be dramatic."
"What about your... what's his name?"
"He doesn't have a name, really," Adahni said, after a long silence. She started to say Kyrwan, then Keowan, and then his last name, Bishop, which she had always called him by before they had gone on the run. The names didn't really matter. Names were just noises, after all. He wasn't a name. He was strong arms holding her tight when the cold wind tore through the pines. He was the feel of the cool water he brought her when she lay in her berth, half delirious with fever.
"Everyone has a name," Safiya said, "Does it pain you to say it?"
"I always called him by his last name," she said, "Bishop. Funny really, to call your lover by his last name, don't you think?"
"Yes, I suppose it is."
"His first name is Kyrwan, but he doesn't like it. He thinks it sounds like a woman's name," she said, chuckling, "But when we left Neverwinter, we left our names there. He became Keowan Kylasson of Kuldahar. I became Dania D'Shadizar of Athkatla. I don't know what he goes by at the moment. I've been calling him Keowan lately, I think he likes it... sounds less feminine I suppose." She chuckled again, "And there's a whole city state of people who call him the Betrayer of Crossroad."
Safiya's expression became distant then, and her eyes gazed into nothingness. In a faraway voice, she said, "So you have also loved a man named Betrayer," Safiya said.
"What?" Adahni asked, looking at her strangely.
"I don't know why I said that," Safiya said, "The thought came to me of a moment, I'm not sure why I put it like that. I suppose I could call Khai a betrayer of sorts. After what he did to me."
"I know," Adahni said, "I never told you how sorry I am that that happened to you, and offer my assurances that useless men like him will teach you a lesson or two by the time you're my age."
"You did," Safiya said, "You did say you were sorry. And I know that it's part of... growing up so to speak. But I thank you. I suppose that's why I'm so interested in hearing this from you, so forgive me if I press the matter. I just wanted to point out that this man, this Betrayer of Crossroad... you love him. Would you not continue your quest, for the chance to see him again?"
"I don't even know if he's alive," she said, "And if he is, I..." She hadn't known that she had this thought until Safiya had asked her, "I fear it would pain him more to see me eaten alive by this curse than to believe I perished in the storm."
"And you would deprive him of you, you would make that choice for him?" Safiya asked.
"I don't know," Adahni said, "But I am on my way now, I suppose, and that will have to do for the moment. Come, we may at least do some good in this place, even if it does me no good in the end."
They arrived at the garrison at midday. The berserker guards were busy, as per usual, fending off a herd of treants. Nadaj was at their back, supporting them with some fairly fearsome-looking spells. The treants felled two of the burly men who kept the garrison. The band approached, and joined the fight. Adahni used her fire, while Kaelyn succeeded in bringing down the wrath of the heavens on them, a scorching beam of light issuing from a hole in the clouds and turning the fearsome tree spirits into burnt matchsticks in seconds. Nadaj wiped the sweat from her brow and approached them. "Thank gods you've returned!" she whispered fervidly, "I must have a word with you."
She hurried them into one of the buildings, which was evidently her dwelling place. Slamming the door behind her and throwing the deadbolt, she stared earnestly at the band, "I think Dalenka is a spy."
"Dalenka is mad as a march hare," Gann said, "Thought I don't really know why march hares are madder than any other sort, but you get my meaning."
"I believe it's a ruse," said Nadaj, "She pretends to be an insane old woman so that we don't suspect the truth, which is that she is a durthan spy! I believe it was she who drove away the Wood Man, who has been causing all of the mischief in the Ashenwood!"
"What's a durthan?" Adahni asked. Nadaj was clearly growing frustrated with the group's inaction to this point.
"Bad witches," Kaelyn said.
"See? Was that so difficult?" Adahni sighed, "Well what would you like us to do with this information, Nadaj? If she is what you say she is, then she is probably powerful and, more importantly, doesn't give a fuck."
"Turn the berserkers," Nadaj said, "You've a tongue of silver, you'll be able to get them on her side. Once you have, she is only human. She will die."
Adahni felt a chill go up her spine. She didn't really like the way Nadaj had said 'She will die.' In fact, she didn't really like any of what was going on. They had spent the better part of a week wandering around the woods in the snow, and it seemed suspicious that as soon as they returned, there was infighting in the garrison. It all seemed too convenient.
"All right," Adahni said, "Go to the great ash tree in the Ashenwood. I will meet you there when it is done." Her companions looked at her, and she raised a hand to silence their dissent, "We will meet you there. That way, should the other hathran come down on you, you have some plausible deniability."
"You're very clever, aren't you," Nadaj said, but her expression and tone indicated that it was not a compliment.
"Some say so," Adahni said, "Hurry away, we must hurry, before any more durthan mischief is wrecked!"
Nadaj turned, and left. They watched through the window of the cabin as she strode out of the garrison and disappeared into the trees.
"Something's not right with her," Okku said, "I can't put my paw on it, though."
"She wandered off into the frozen wood without a cloak or boots," Kaelyn said, "I would say that qualifies as 'not right.'"
"Are we really going to attacked Dalenka?" asked Gann.
"No, we're not," Adahni said. She sat down on the plank that Nadaj called a bed, "I have an idea. It involves some very intense magic, and I'm not sure if I can do it."
"Well if it's some very intense magic, don't you think I could help?" Safiya asked, "You know... being a member of the most advanced college of magic in the land?"
"I'm sure a Hosttower Mage might start a fight over that remark," Adahni said, "But I am not one so I am going to let it go. But no, Safiya, the type of magic that I am talking about is exclusively in the realm of bards. You're familiar with how bardic magic works, no?"
"Tell me," Kaelyn said, "I've heard things, but nobody has really explained it to me."
"It's manipulating the emotions, and with it the body," Adahni said, "A cleric's healing spell calls on the powers of the Gods to heal miraculously, an arcane healer uses the weave to manipulate the body back into place, but a bard's healing spell is all about the mind. We reach into the mind and the mind tricks the body into healing faster than it otherwise would. It's the same for other spells, a "harm" spell tricks the mind into the believing the body is being attacked, and if the mind believes wholly that it is being attacked with a knife, it will form a knife wound in the body without ever being touched."
"This is an interesting treatise," Safiya said, "But I'm afraid that I don't quite see your point."
"We deal with the mind," Adahni said, "I have read about bards who are able to coax the mad out of their madness, and make them lucid. Even those who were powerful enough to drive it out of them entirely."
"And you think you can do this for Dalenka?" Gann asked.
"I don't know," Adahni said, "The inside of her mind is chaos. I would try to calm it, to draw her out from the forest so to speak, that we might actually talk to her."
"And how will you do that?" asked Okku skeptically.
"There are many songs about madness," Adahni said, smiling, "To most they seem like nothing more than nonsense. They don't really mean anything. But... but I do believe, based on what I've read, that they might be used to speak to a mad person."
"And you know a few of these nonsense songs?"
"I do," she said, "But you remember how hostile she was when we arrived the first time. I'd like you to come in with me. Restrain her if you have to. I don't know how long it will take to get into her head."
"Or if you'll be successful," Safiya said.
"Do you have a better idea?" asked Adahni.
"No, I suppose I don't," the red wizard said, "I just... I don't know if I trust a magic as chaotic as that of the bards to this task. Music is just noises."
"And the moment one of you arcane tricksters come up with something like it, I will gladly cede the floor to you, Safiya," Adahni said, "Come on."
They made their way across the encampment to Dalenka's house. Not bothering to knock, they let themselves in, to find Dalenka seated in her chair by the fire. The old woman was murmuring something to herself.
"Dalenka?" Adahni asked.
The old woman rose, leaning on her blackthorn stick. She was not angry, as she had been the last time they had seen her. She looked around absently with her milky eyes, which finally fell on Adahni. "I was mistaken," she said, her voice creaky with age, "You are not two, but three." She sat back down in her chair, and looked back at the fire.
"Dalenka, I need to ask you about Nadaj."
"I can't!" the old woman wailed, "There is too much shouting, such outrage! I cannot hear myself think for the wind!"
"Shhhh," Adahni hushed her, "I need you to listen to me. Don't listen to the shouting, listen to the words of my song."
She really would have preferred to have an instrument for this task. She cast about the room, which was chock full of curios and random assortments of things.
"Do you think you can work with this?" asked Gann. He was holding up what looked like a lute, though a bit larger, with a perfectly round belly.
"What's that?" she asked.
"A domra," he said, "It's sort of like an oud, I guess..."
"Let me see what I can do with it," she said, holding out her hand. She managed to tune it to a mandolin tuning, and was not surprised to find that, once she got the hang of it, the sounds were nearly indistinguishable.
Dalenka was watching all of it, seemingly actually understanding what was going on. Adahni found her fingering, and started playing the melody. She watched the old witch's face carefully, and when it was clear that she had relaxed, and was letting the music seep into her bones, she began to sing.
In Nottamun Town, not a soul to be seen
Not a soul would look up, not a soul would look down
Not a soul would look up, not a soul would look down
To show me the way to fair Nottamun Town
I bought me a horse twas called a grey mare
Grey mane and grey tail and green stripe on her back
Grey mane and grey tail and green stripe on her back
Weren't a hair upon her that was not coal black
"That doesn't make any..." Gann started.
"Sh!" Safiya hissed.
She stood so still threw me to the dirt
She tore at my hide, she bruised my shirt
From saddle to stirrup I mounted again
And on my ten toes I rode over the plain
Before her, Dalenka seemed to relax. The color rushed into her withered cheeks, and her eyes appeared brighter, sharper.
When I got there no one did I see
They all stood around me just looking at me
I called for a cup to drive gladness away
And stifle the dust for it rained the whole day
And the King and the Queen and the company more
Came a riding behind and a walking before
Come a stark naked drummer beating a drum
With his hands in his bosom came marching along
The old woman rose, and looked out of the window, did a turn around the room, and returned to her chair.
Sat down on a hard hot cold frozen stone
Ten thousand stood round me but I was alone
Took my hat in my hand to keep my head warm
Ten thousand was drowned that never was born
As the last note rang out, Dalenka rose, leaning on her cane.
"Nadaj is not what she seems," she said, "You must go to the Ashenwood, right away, as fast as you can. I cannot run anymore, it will take me four hours when you may get there in two. I will meet you there as soon as I can."
"But..." Adahni started, wanting to ask her what was happening, and perhaps most importantly figure out how her spell worked so that she could brag bout it later.
"There is no time for that now!" the crone cried, "You must away. There will be time for talking later!"
"Very well," Okku said, "I suggest we listen to the witch. Something has shifted in the forest, I can hear it on the wind. Something bad. We must go."
"Listen to the bear," Dalenka said.
"I always listen to the bear," Adahni replied. They existed the cabin, and went along to see what awaited the in the wood.