The heat was terrible. Even under the canopy of trees, the sun still imparted its intense heat. And while the humidity provided a ready source of water for condensation, its presence only created the need for even more condensation. It had rained earlier, but that had only taken the edge off for a short while. It seemed nothing would remove the heat permanently.

After leaving the battle site, they had struck out south-east across the fields and orchards dotting the region. They had run afoul of a few farmers, but Jorvanultumn’s presence had so awed them each time, they soon not only let them cross their lands, but even offered some of their produce for free. In better times, Jorvanultumn would never have accepted items offered practically in worship, but these were not better times. Their food supplies were low, and none of them was in the shape for hunting.

Once they had made a wide berth to the side of the city, they rejoined the road running east. By then, it was well past nightfall, but they kept on. The farmland soon gave way to thick, virgin forest. It was in the forest that they were able to find an area to settle down at last. By then, Jorvanultumn was exhausted, but he gathered some last bits of strength for a flight over the area to learn the terrain.

What he had learned on that flight had left him very eager to just hide away and sleep once he was back. He had slept late into this day.

Jorvanultumn wiped a bit of water off a leaf and watched it glisten on his finger for a few moments before it evaporated. He did not know what type of plant the leaf belonged to. He did not know the plants of this area—not that he really knew the plants anywhere in Arnor very well. This one was green, but so were most Arnorin plants. That did make them more colourful than the usual grey of Arctic plants. Nevertheless, he preferred the Arctic plants, even if only because they were not associated with unbearable heat.

Grabbing the stalk of the plant, Jorvanultumn gave it a good shake. The spray from the water left on the leaves provided only the barest of refreshment, but it was something. He was trying to find a balance between keeping cool and conserving his magical energy, and so did not have his rain cloud going at the moment. As such, any little relief from the heat was welcome.

“Careful what you touch,” Zandrue called. “Some plants in this region can be dangerous.”

“Which ones?” Jorvanultumn asked.

“Not that one.” She laughed a little and groaned in pain. “Honestly, I’m no expert, so I’d just suggest hands off everything unless necessary.”

Jorvanultumn nodded. There went that plan. With a sigh, he began to gather water vapour between his hands, forming it into a small cloud. Then, with a slight flick of his wrist and the expenditure of a little energy, the cloud flew over his head and gave him a short, but vigorous, downpour. That was better. With a wave of his hand, the rain stopped, and the cloud dissipated.

Zandrue was watching him. “We need to get moving again. We’ve been here almost a day already, and that’s one day too long.”

Rudiger, who had been brushing Borisin, looked over at her. “Are you strong enough?”

Zandrue shrugged. “I’m about as well off as Jorvan at the moment. I should be able to manage. I’ll have to.”

“What about the goblins Jorvan saw?” Rudiger asked.

“We hope they don’t catch us,” Zandrue replied.

They had been out in large numbers last night. Hundreds of the beasts, a few miles south-east of Bever. At first, Jorvanultumn had thought they were just a large group of humans, but as he had flown over them, their hunched gait and long arms became more apparent. It had been too dark to get a good look at any faces, but on a few of them, their tusks had been noticeable. He had not remained to watch them for very long. However, he had noticed a single figure moving away from them at immense speed. Unless one of the goblins was also capable of such speed, there could be little doubt who it was. As such, Jorvanultumn could only assume that the goblins were looking for him, Zandrue, and Rudiger.

“We have a better chance of avoiding them if we keep moving,” Zandrue continued. “If we sit here much longer, they’ll stumble across us for sure.”

“What about sneaking past them, back into Bever?” Rudiger asked.

Zandrue shook her head. “Too risky at the moment. Besides, if we did manage it, we’d probably just walk into another trap laid for us in the city. I don’t think they want us getting to Lockanith.”

“We continue east?” Jorvanultumn asked.

Zandrue nodded and said, “I don’t like it very much, but we don’t have any other choice.”

“Is there any other way to Lockanith?” Rudiger asked.

“Not really. There’s nothing south of Bever before the Ninifin wall. The only other option would be to go all the way to the east coast, cross the Bay of Ras, walk down the Thumb, and then go overland back to the west coast, which would take forever, probably half a year or more.”

“Or we could go to Ninifin,” Rudiger said. “That Darker said they had a way in.”

“That was from the south,” Zandrue said.

“Yeah, but there’s got to be gates in their wall, right?”

“One in the north and one in the south, yes, and they don’t let just anybody through.”

“Then we find another way. Climb the wall or something. I don’t know. If Corvinian’s there...”

“And if he isn’t?” Zandrue said. “If that was a lie?”

“If that was a lie, then Lockanith was probably a lie, too, and if it wasn’t a lie, Lockanith was just a stop on the way. If we can’t sneak back into Bever and we have to head towards Ninifin anyway, why not just go all the way?”

“No,” Zandrue snapped. “Not until we’re sure.”

“Why not?” Jorvanultumn asked.

“It’s too dangerous. We might as well just walk up and surrender to the goblins. We’d probably be treated better.”

“They do not like Isyar,” Jorvanultumn said. “I understand.”

“It’s more than just dislike. They will do terrible things to you if they get their hands on you, and in your weakened condition, you’ll have a hard time defending yourself. Ninifin is farther south still and we haven’t even hit summer yet. It will be much hotter.”

Jorvanultumn thought for a moment. He was a bit surprised her reasons included concern for him, although he could not be certain she did not have other reasons as well. She kept so many secrets, and that bothered him. “And you and Rudiger in Ninifin?”

Zandrue sighed. “It would be dangerous for us, too, although not to the same extent. If it was just me and Rudiger, I’d be more willing to try it.”

“Then do not worry about me. We will go to Ninifin.”

“What?” Zandrue said.

“We will go to Ninifin.” He did not want an argument with Zandrue—she did not like being contradicted and had a tendency to consider herself in charge—but Ninifin was the obvious next destination. He was willing to take the risks for Corvinian’s sake. There was also his elispt to think of.

“Are you out of your fucking mind? I realise I’ve only given you the broadest description of Ninifin, but I thought I’d gotten my point across. They do terrible things to prisoners and I can only imagine what they might do if they got their hands on an Isyar. They will torture you. Scar you. Break your wings. Who knows what else? If you’re lucky, you’ll die quickly. Is that really what you want?”

“No, but that changes nothing. We must find Corvinian. I promised to protect him.”

“And we will find him. But we don’t know he’s in Ninifin. Let’s at least find out first before you go and get yourself killed, okay?”

They stared at each other for a few moments. There was anger in Zandrue’s eyes. Her stare was intimidating enough to make him consider backing down. Perhaps he was being foolish. He did not like the idea of letting her win the argument, but perhaps she was right.

Rudiger put a hand on Zandrue’s shoulder, but she pushed it away. “Look, we have to go east for a little while anyway to get away from the goblins. Let’s worry about that first.”

Zandrue stared at Jorvanultumn for a few moments more, then took a deep breath. “You’re right. We need to worry about the goblins first.” She looked away.

Rudiger looked to Jorvanultumn, who nodded. “Yes, you are right.”

So they road east. Staying ahead of the goblins proved easier than they had expected, and it did not take long before they had left the goblins well behind. On this day, they passed a couple small villages and made certain to warn the locals. However, Jorvanultumn made far more of an impression on them than the threat of goblins. The people in these parts were familiar with goblins and did not appear worried about a large group of them. Clusters of goblins formed from time to time, and while they might cause problems for some farms by going after livestock, they mostly left human settlements alone, so there was little point bothering about them. However, an Isyar was worth gawking over. Jorvanultumn would never understand human motivations.

The next morning, Jorvanultumn flew back west in an attempt to see how far behind the goblins were, but there was no sign of them.

“They’re not following us then,” Zandrue said. “The question is, are they still blocking the way back into Bever or have they headed off some other way?”

“Do we go back?” Rudiger asked.

“Yes,” Jorvanultumn hurried to answer before Zandrue could. Her wide-eyed expression showed her surprise at his answer. “If the goblins are not there, we go to Lockanith. If they are...”

She picked up on his meaning. “We continue east to Getavin and from there, we look into the possibility of Ninifin.”

“Thank you,” Jorvanultumn said.

Zandrue grabbed her horse’s reins. “Oh, don’t mind me. I become an ass when I have to do something I don’t want to do. I come round in the end though. Sometimes. If there’s good reason.”

The heat was not as bad today, and it rained a few times as well—short, brisk downpours, but they were refreshing. It meant that Jorvanultumn maintained enough energy to fly ahead a few times to look for signs of goblins. In the late afternoon, he spotted them. Still numbering in the hundreds in total, they were spread out in smaller groups through the forests and fields north and south of the road outside Bever. Unlike when he had first spotted them, they were not on the move. On guard, perhaps?

Jorvanultumn did not have the strength to circle over the road for more than a couple minutes to determine the goblins’ response to travellers, though he did spot a single merchant caravan that was moving without being attacked.

He also spotted a single figure again moving at extreme speeds between the different groups of goblins. Jorvanultumn presumed that “Mister Speedy” as Zandrue had taken to calling him must be keeping the goblins organised.

“Sounds like they’re guarding against us,” Rudiger said when Jorvanultumn returned.

“Yeah, and I really wish I knew why they’re so intent to keep us out of there,” Zandrue said. “Still, I guess we don’t have any choice. I hope you two realise though that if there really are Darkers operating out of Ninifin, we’re likely to encounter at least as much opposition to keep us out of there. And that’s just from the Darkers, never mind the Ninifins themselves. Let’s go.”

After they passed the same two villages for the third time, the number of settlements they encountered decreased over the next few days to none, and the forest became thicker. According to Zandrue, this was one of the most sparsely settled areas in Arnor with only the extreme south and extreme north being more so. Even other travellers on the road were uncommon. All told, it made things peaceful, and the thick canopy of trees helped keep the excesses of the sun bearable.

After nearly two weeks of travelling, they finally encountered a village again along the banks of the Sulaji River, which marked the border between the Provinces of Friaz and Nallin. The forest did not extend past the river, giving way instead to more farmland. Over the next two days, they passed through a few more villages before finally reaching Getavin.

A weathered ziggurat towered over the city’s other buildings, including the two other ziggurats on either side of it. Large, potted plants decorated the stepped levels of all three ziggurats as well as their flat tops, providing a burst of green dominating the centre of the otherwise grey and brown city.

“Saw a drawing of those once in Dorg,” Rudiger said. “Didn’t realise they were quite so big. Who built them?”

“Ninifins,” Zandrue answered. “Or more precisely, the people who became the Ninifins and the locals. They’re quite the sight up close.”

“Why doesn’t it surprise me you’ve been here before?” Rudiger said.

Zandrue smiled. “I climbed to the top of the big one last time I was here. They don’t actually like people doing that. Too dangerous. The thing’s old and not well maintained. Still, I couldn’t resist.”

The rest of the city surrounding the ziggurats consisted of a very different architecture. Instead of stone, it was a maze of reed and thatch huts. It lacked any true streets other than the main road. Buildings had been built wherever there was space and did not conform to any standard patterns. Even the spaces between the huts did not make for good streets as they were generally filled with boxes and barrels, or had ropes tied from one building to the next, upon which laundry had been hung to dry.

Most people had copper complexions and dark hair. They were obviously poor, but seemed happier about it than Jorvanultumn was used to seeing amongst human poor. Dirty, naked children played joyfully, while adults chatted or went about their business with smiles on their faces. Only the scrawny, ill-fed dogs all over the place were anything less than happy—and then, only when Zandrue passed near them. As soon as she was out of their path, they stopped growling and went back to playing with the children.

It was comforting to see people happy for a change, and Jorvanultumn found that he could almost forget about the heat for a while. Indeed, wandering amongst these people soon put a smile on his face. They did not even surround him in mobs the way people had in Friaz. A few rushed over to him, to ask his blessing or similar nonsense. Others, especially children, pointed at him and called after him. However, the majority did little more than watch him pass, awe in their faces, but not in their actions.

Nearer to the inner city and the three ziggurats, a small crowd had gathered a short distance off the main road. Intrigued, Jorvanultumn moved closer to see what was happening. A mature, copper-skinned woman wearing a shawl and long skirt, both of vibrant mixed colours, sat on some boxes. On her head, she wore a tall headdress adorned with white feathers. To either side of her stood a human carrying a spear adorned with a few red and black feathers. Each warrior’s face, neck, and bare arms bore multiple tattoos of various abstract designs. Both wore padded armour, but neither bore a tabard indicating allegiance like most human warriors Jorvanultumn had encountered. One of the two warriors was a woman, which was unusual. Jorvanultumn had not seen many women warriors amongst humans. Zandrue carried weapons, and he had seen a couple female guards at the Arnorin Royal Palace, but that was the extent that he had ever encountered. He had heard that it was customary for noblewomen to obtain some martial training, but he had not seen any who actually made use of that training.

The woman with the feathered headdress was speaking to the small crowd in front of her. The crowd was predominantly young women and girls, although a few men stood along the edges, scowling—the first openly unhappy people Jorvanultumn had seen in this city. With only a few exceptions, even the young women and girls seemed only half interested in what the woman in the gown had to say.

“Throw off the yoke of your oppressors! Let Ninussa light your way to truth, freedom, and happiness. Look at the squalor your so-called rulers make you live in! Lord Elaster. King Wavon. Who are these men? Have you ever seen either of them before? No? Then why should they have a say in your day-to-day lives? What gives them that right? What do they do for you? Let me share with you the words of Eleuia, as transcribed by her disciple, Nin-Papan. She said—”

“Go back to the shit you came from, bitch!” one of the men yelled. “Let us live our own lives.”

“See how the dissenters turn to name calling whenever they do not get their way? Can any of you offer a true denial of my words?” The woman’s eyes scanned the crowd, looking for dissenters. Several people started calling her down, but her gaze had stopped on Jorvanultumn. There was fear in those dark eyes, and soon the other people began to quieten and turn to see what she was looking at.

Jorvanultumn offered her and everyone there a smile.

“Evil!” the woman screeched. “See the evil that infests the world! Cast it out, I say! Cast it out!”

“An Isyar!” a young girl exclaimed, joy and awe on her face.

“Please,” Jorvanultumn began, “I do not wish—”

“Cast it out!” the woman cried again. Jorvanultumn had not seen her grab it, but she now had a rock in her hand and she lobbed it at him. Taking him by surprise, it struck him across the side of his forehead. He stumbled back, wiping blood from his eyes.

The young girl screamed. Several people rushed the woman in the gown, but her guards moved to protect her, knocking down the first two men to get near. Dazed, one of the two men tried to grab a guard’s foot, but she kicked him in the face. The small crowd quickly dispersed after that, the two men running with all the others. The young girl was still screaming when a slightly older girl picked her up and carried her off.

The woman bent down and picked up another stone. “Bastard of creation. Unholy child of the Dark Lady.” She threw the stone at him, but Jorvanultumn was ready this time. He caught it in a pocket of air and then broke it apart, letting the resulting sand fall harmlessly to the ground.

A hand touched Jorvanultumn’s shoulder. “Let’s go,” Zandrue said. “She can do no more harm. No one’s likely to listen to her once the story of how she attacked an angel spreads.”

With a nod, Jorvanultumn gave a small tug on his horse’s reins and followed Zandrue, the mare tagging along behind. He took a glance back to make certain the woman’s guards were not trying to rush him, but she only yelled curses at him.

Rudiger was waiting for them farther down the street. He grinned. “Thought we lost you. You shouldn’t wander off like that.”

“I was doing...research,” Jorvanultumn replied. He turned to Zandure. “Was she a Ninifin?”

“Yes,” Zandrue replied. “Technically, most people here are Ninifins, though they get called Eloorin because they don’t actually live in Ninifin, or something like that. I don’t know. It’s complicated. Anyway, she was a Ninifin from Ninifin. I did warn you what things could be like. The only reason she didn’t try to kill you is because she knows the local authorities would hang her if she did. In Ninifin, she’ll have the law on her side. You still up for going there?”

“Do we have a choice?”

“Unfortunately, it doesn’t look that way.”

Rudiger put his arm around her. “Don’t worry. We’ll figure out a way. We’ve already survived far worse than anything the Ninifins can throw at us.”

“Maybe,” Zandrue said, laying her head against his chest and hugging her arms around his waist.

Jorvanultumn watched in fascination. He had been trying to figure out for some time whether Zandrue and Rudiger were fomasee, but human mating rituals were bizarre. For some reason, they did not like admitting their connection to one another.

“So what do we have to do?” Rudiger asked.

“We stay here for tomorrow and possibly the day after,” Zandrue replied. “I don’t want to waste any more time, but if we go to Ninifin, we have to be prepared. I need to do a little bit of research first. I’ll check in with some local contacts, see if I can find out about Darkers in the area.”

“Isn’t that dangerous?” Rudiger asked. “They’re probably looking for us just like every other Darker in the world.”

Zandrue stared at him. “You want to go to Ninifin, and you’re worried about dangerous? Let’s not forget, we don’t know for certain Corvinian is even in Ninifin. Or they might have moved him by now. If I can pick up hints of anything like that, we may not need to go there at all. If this is going to work, you both have to listen to me very carefully and do exactly what I tell you to. Agreed?”

Jorvanultumn nodded his acceptance and Rudiger said, “Of course.”

“Great!” Zandrue said, clapping her hands together. “Well, if I’m going to spend the next little while plotting our collective suicide, I think for tonight, I just want to get rip-roaring drunk! Come on, let’s get out of these slums and into the real city.” She slipped away from Rudiger, grabbed her horse’s reins, and began walking down the street towards the inner city.

“She is strange,” Jorvanultumn said to Rudiger, “but I think I begin to understand her.”

Rudiger smiled, the way someone did about their fomase when others said complimentary things about them. “She’s a pretty amazing woman.”

Jorvanultumn nodded. If only she did not have so many secrets.

* * * * *

Zandrue’s head hurt. Too much drink. Too much bloody drink. She sat up and the room spun around her, so she lay back down and closed her eyes again. Sleep would be very nice right about now, but alas, there was too much work to do. She opened one eye experimentally. The room was still spinning—or maybe her vision was just blurred. Yes, that was more likely. She opened her other eye, gathered her strength of will, and sat up again. Her head throbbed.

Rudiger stirred beside her, reaching for her waist. “Wh-where are you going?”

“Work to do.” Zandrue gently took his hands off her and slid out of the bed. She gathered up her clothes which lay scattered about the room and quickly dressed. She glanced back at Rudiger. He’d fallen back asleep again, and she felt a bit envious. He looked so peaceful, while she had to endure this horrendous headache.

With a sigh, she belted her sword to her waist and slung her pack over her shoulder. She glanced at her quiver of arrows and unstrung bow sitting in the corner of the room, but decided that she likely wouldn’t need them, so she could leave them behind. She reached for the door handle, but hesitated, looking back at Rudiger instead.

She’d let herself get far too close to him. It wasn’t the sex. She would have slept with him within a few days of meeting him if he’d let her, having done so often enough with others: Cerus, Drummor, the list went on.

When it came down to it, people were creatures of habit and instinct. They were capable of thought, capable of overriding their habits when necessary, but the vast majority of the time, they just did whatever came naturally to them. Zandrue was certainly no exception. Her habits had been guided, programmed. She had tried to escape them, but she was slave to them nonetheless.

“The single, greatest weapon you possess is not a sword or an axe. It is not a bow or spear or dagger. It is nothing with a blade or point, nor anything manufactured. Your greatest weapon is nothing other than your body. For nothing else you possess is so versatile. Be it for pounding your enemy with your fists or feet, or holding him in place. Be it for seducing him with your sex, or outwitting him with your mind, nothing—absolutely nothing—will ever be a superior weapon than what you were born possessing.”

Habit. All just habit.

Except Rudiger.

If only she could just lump Rudiger in with everything else. But she couldn’t. He had to bloody well be different, the bastard! He dared to lie there on that bed, tall, muscular, handsome, and playing with her feelings without even knowing he was doing it. In the past, she’d avoided anything like this happening by simply not spending enough time around any man she felt close to. With Rudiger, she’d spent far too much time around him, far too much time getting to know him, and now all she wanted to do was climb back in that bed with him and lie there in his arms forever.

Gods, what would her mother think? Horror. Sheer horror and revulsion. She would go on about unhealthy fetishes and blame Zandrue’s father for insisting on putting her in the arcraime in the first place. As for her father himself...well, her father had other reasons to want her dead. Falling in love with Rudiger would make little impact when mixed with everything else.

With a shake of her head and a groan from the resulting pain, Zandrue reached for the door handle again and headed out.

Getting in to see the people she wanted to see wasn’t difficult. Getavin hadn’t changed much since she’d last been here. None of the hideouts had moved, and none of the people had changed.

A girl wearing nothing more than a transparent shift offered her some wine. Zandrue took the crystal goblet from the tray and gave the girl a small smile. “Thank you.”

The girl curtsied and slid off, closing the door behind her.

Zandrue pretended to admire the goblet and then took a sip of the wine.

“A fine vintage, isn’t it?” her hostess said. “From the Orwin vineyards by the Bay of Ras, twenty-three oh nine. A magnificent year.”

Zandrue looked over at Luana, spread out on her chaise longue with its red velvet cushions, and also sipping from a crystal goblet. Despite her advancing age, the woman was still undeniably majestic, and she flaunted it, too, in her slinky silk gown that tightly hugged her voluptuous figure. The Ninifin-style tattoos on her shoulder looked out of place on her pale, not-even-tanned Folith skin.

“You start them very young,” Zandrue commented.

Luana looked momentarily surprised. “Oh, you mean Alusha there. It keeps them off the streets.”

“She looks barely sixteen,” Zandrue said.

Luana shrugged. “I offer the girls a haven from a far worse life. It’s either here or death on the streets—or worse, Ninifin.”

“I didn’t think things were so bad here in Getavin. People here seem happy. Even the poor ones.”

Luana nodded. “Oh they are, for the most part. But nowhere is a perfect paradise, Sonna.”

“Zandrue.”

“Of course, my apologies. I deal with people changing their names all the time. I should know better.” She took a sip of her wine. “But as I was saying, nowhere is a paradise. There are always a few unfortunates. I offer them a life away from that. Here, they need only pleasure a few horny men, and in return make more money than they ever thought possible. Alusha, I’m quite sure, is far richer than you are, Zandrue. Far richer than you ever will be, I’d hazard a guess.”

Zandrue shrugged, thinking of her own lost childhood. Her career had started the day she’d learned to walk. “There are pleasures other than money.”

Luana smiled. “On that, my dear, we can agree. However, money is a nice pleasure, too.” She gestured to the room around them, to the rich paintings on the gilded walls, and the statuary in the corners, to the giant chandelier hanging from the ceiling above. The room would not have been out of place in the Royal Palace. “Now, tell me, what brings you back to Getavin? Not to take up my offer of employment, I suspect.”

“Not this time,” Zandrue said with a forced smile, her hangover flaring up again. “What brings me here is a bit of a long story. However, now I’m here, I wouldn’t mind a little information.”

“Now, now, Zandrue,” Luana said. “You know as well as I do that information doesn’t come free. What sort of information were you looking for?”

“Darkers,” Zandrue said, placing her goblet down on the table in front of her and leaning back in her cushioned chair. “A little bit about Ninifin would be nice, too.”

Luana smirked. “That sort of information doesn’t come cheaply either, dear. What can you offer me in return?”

“Secrets,” Zandrue answered, rubbing her temples.

“What sort of secrets?”

“Royal ones.”

Luana laughed. “Come now, Zandrue, do you expect me to believe you’ve ferreted out any royal secrets that I wouldn’t already know?”

Zandrue looked at her with a straight and serious face. “Of course. You, of all people, should know that people can be made to talk in bed. Even princes.”

Luana’s eyes widened and she smiled.

“Your establishment may cater to the nobles of Nallin, Luana,” Zandrue said, “but I’ve catered to the nobles of Arnor.”

Luana chuckled and took a sip of her wine. “You have grown, Zandrue, my dear. Perhaps we can reach an arrangement.”

* * * * *

Rain was falling and the wind was blowing heavily as they made their way along the trail. The tops of the trees swayed back and forth, adding cascading leaves to the falling water. Up ahead of them, their guide, Ervin, trudged through the rapidly expanding mud, only occasionally looking back to see if they were still following him. Numerous times, Rudiger wondered if they just stopped and turned around, would the boy even notice?

Zandrue had found the boy through one of her contacts, someone named Luana. He was leading them to a group of people that could supposedly help them get into Ninifin.

Tell me why we’re doing this again, Borisin complained.

“You want to go back to the stables in Getavin?”

Hell, no. In protest, Borisin kicked at the ground.

Rudiger didn’t bother wiping the splashed mud away. The rain would wash it away soon enough. Besides, he was already drenched and muddy. A little more hardly made any difference. “Well, if that’s how you feel.” He let go of the reins and rushed forward as quickly as he could to where Zandrue was leading Lucinda. Borisin only snorted in response.

“Blasted weather,” Zandrue commented.

“Tell me why we’re doing this again,” Rudiger said.

I heard that! Borisin yelled. Rudiger ignored him.

“You want to get into Ninifin, don’t you?” Zandrue replied.

Rudiger shrugged. “Yeah, but I didn’t expect to be joining some sort of resistance group. I figured we’d sneak in.”

“It’s always good to have allies, Rudiger.”

“I suppose, but are you sure we can trust this Luana woman?”

“Maybe. I certainly trust her more than I do the Darker who told us the Dusk Supreme was shipping things to Ninifin. And we trusted him enough to rush off there.”

“Hurry!” their guide called back. “We’re almost there!”

The trail began to widen out and soon opened into a large clearing. With the parting of trees, the real strength of the wind and rain came bearing down, and Rudiger almost slipped. Zandrue grabbed his arm to help steady him. “Careful.”

“Thanks,” Rudiger mumbled. He looked away so she couldn’t see his embarrassment.

There were several people in the clearing. Most were loading barrels and boxes into a covered wagon. Others held loaded crossbows aimed at the group coming out of the woods.

“Eleuia!” Ervin called, dashing across the clearing. The crossbow holders lowered their weapons and went back to their watches. “Eleuia! This is them!”

A woman broke away from the group loading boxes and met with the boy. She spoke briefly to him before crossing the clearing to Rudiger, Zandrue, and Jorvan. She was not a big woman, but she was athletic and muscular. Her short, black hair glistened in the rain, in contrast to her copper skin and dark eyes. She wore a sleeveless leather jerkin and coarse pants. One arm had a tattoo that looked something like a snake with wings, although it was in that abstract, blocky style he had seen on people in Getavin, so it was difficult to know what it was supposed to represent. Her other arm had a smaller tattoo near her shoulder of a some sort of cat. A jaguar, maybe? A slim sword hung from her belt.

Zandrue held out her hand to the woman. “Zandromeda Armida.” When the woman just glared, her heavy eyelids narrow, Zandrue turned to Rudiger and Jorvan. “This is Rudiger Fonivan and Jorvanultumn. You’re Eleuia, I take it.”

The woman shrugged. “That’s what they’re calling me these days. My real name’s Ses-Izel. Somebody started the Eleuia thing as a joke, but now, disturbingly, some people have actually come to believe I’m the reincarnation of Eleuia. I don’t like it, but I put up with it. What I like even less, however, are last minute arrangements. I don’t know what Luana’s thinking, sending you out here. I smuggle people and goods out of Ninifin, not in.”

“Yes, but surely if you can get them out, you can get them back in,” Zandrue said.

“That depends.” Eleuia crossed her arms. “Look, I’ll do this, but only because Luana is a major source of funding. I can’t risk offending her. I don’t do this for any of you, got it?”

“As you say,” Zandrue said.

“Once you’re on the other side, our association is at an end until it’s time to get you back out again. I don’t know why you’d want to do something so stupid as go into Ninifin—with an Isyar—and I don’t want to know. My people will have nothing to do with it. Got it?”

Zandrue nodded. “Got it. Luana’s given us some names to make contact with.”

“Yeah, they’re not going to like it either.” Eleuia turned and strode towards the wagon. “Follow me.”

“So, how do we get over the wall?” Rudiger asked.

Eleuia reached down, picked up a box, and held it out to him. “First, you make yourself useful.”

Rudiger chuckled, and took the box.

“Something funny?” she asked.

Rudiger shook his head briskly. “No.” He handed the box to the man standing in the wagon.

Jorvan reached for a box, but Eleuia placed a hand on his shoulder. “I’ve never met an Isyar before, so I might be way off, but you don’t look well.”

“The weather here is too warm,” Jorvan replied.

“Do you have any idea what the Ninifins will do to you if they catch you?”

“He knows,” Zandrue said. “I’ll see to it that he’s fine.”

Eleuia shrugged and let go of Jorvan. “Suit yourself.”

Rudiger placed his hands on either side of a barrel and heaved. It was difficult to get a good grip on the wet wood, especially with the weight. “What have you got in these things, anyway?” He placed it on its side on the floor of the wagon, where the young man simply rolled it back into place.

“In the barrels,” Eleuia said, “coffee beans. In the boxes, various assorted artwork.”

“What sort of artwork?” Rudiger asked.

Eleuia shrugged. “I only just got the shipment. Haven’t looked at it yet. Ervin! Get the horses ready. The rest of you load up. Speaking of horses...” She looked over to where Lucinda and Borisin were grazing.

“What about them?” Rudiger asked. He knew what she would answer though. Zandrue had said that Luana had brought up the same concerns.

Eleuia’s eyes narrowed. “Why the hell did you bring them? Surely Luana told you to bring only what you can carry. That includes animals.”

Borisin looked up, chewing slowly on the muddy grass in his mouth.

Zandrue stepped between Rudiger and Eleuia. “The horses come with us.”

Eleuia raised her eyebrows and laughed. “No, they don’t. Not unless you can carry them or they’re capable of climbing the wall themselves.”

“This isn’t a matter for negotiation,” Zandrue said.

“Damn right, it’s not! They’re not coming and that’s that.” Eleuia turned away from them and walked over to where Ervin was tending the wagon’s horses. “Ervin, hitch those three horses up. We’ll take them back to Getavin.”

“Now, wait a minute!” Rudiger marched up and grabbed Ervin before the boy could reach the horses. He glared at Eleuia. “I’m not leaving Borisin behind.”

The boy struggled in his grasp. “Let me go!”

Eleuia didn’t flinch. “Consider them payment for our services.” She crossed her arms and returned his gaze equally.

Zandrue approached and placed a hand on Eleuia’s shoulder. “Look, at the very least, the stallion has to go over the wall. He’s very important. Luana said it could be done.”

Eleuia slipped away from Zandrue’s touch. “And what the hell does Luana know? Just because she gives us money makes her think she knows what goes on out here? She’s never been within a mile of the wall! She takes in any pretty young girls we bring over, but other than that, she has no idea what it’s like. No idea what those refugees have been through! No idea what I and my people have been through. Her sending you to me now is proof enough of that. If you want over the wall, the horses stay. I don’t have the means to get them over too. Now, let Ervin go, or I end this deal right now.”

Zandrue lowered her face and sighed.

“Zandrue!” Rudiger protested.

“Let him go,” Eleuia said.

“Let me go!” the boy echoed.

Rudiger pushed the boy aside. “Fine, we’ll find another way past the wall.”

Ervin climbed to his feet, brushing mud from his face and eyes. He glared briefly at Rudiger before trudging across the grass towards the horses.

Eleuia shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

Across the clearing, Borisin whinnied loudly. The stallion was rearing and Ervin was lying flat on his back, dangerously close to Borisin’s dangling feet.

“Damn it!” Eleuia swore. “Manik! Ses-Abet! Help Ervin!”

“Borisin, that’s enough!” Rudiger yelled.

With a snort, Borisin lowered his front feet to the ground and backed up. Ervin crawled across the grass until two men from the wagon reached him and helped him to his feet.

Eleuia pointed a finger at Rudiger. “You keep that horse of yours under control until we’re out of here.” She wheeled around and climbed into the driver’s seat of the wagon. “Have a nice trip. Don’t blame me when they catch you and kill you.”

Rudiger looked away, not wanting anything more to do with this discussion. He looked over at Borisin who was now just standing idly in the clearing looking back at him. Lucinda stood next to the roan, and Jorvan’s mare was wandering a short distance away. Stupid woman! They didn’t need her help anyway. They could do it alone. As Jorvan’s horse reached down and began pulling at some roots, Rudiger sighed. The worst part of the situation was, he completely understood Eleuia’s reaction.

“Look,” Zandrue said, “can you at least give us some advice or suggestions?”

“Yeah,” Eleuia replied. “Don’t go to Ninifin.”

“I wish that were an option,” Zandrue said.

You look awful, Borisin said.

“No worse than you,” Rudiger replied.

Nah, I look good in the rain. As for you...

“Huh! You wish!”

“What’s he doing?” Eleuia asked.

“Oh that,” Zandrue replied. “He’s…well…he’s talking to his horse. They do that sometimes. Borisin talks to Rudiger in his head. That’s kind of why we can’t leave him behind.”

“Okay, now I know you’re all crazy,” Eleuia said.

She doesn’t believe.

“Few do, buddy,” Rudiger said. “Few do.”

Borisin shook his head and then looked past Rudiger, staring at something.

“What?” Rudiger asked. “What is it?” He turned to look.

Zandrue and Jorvan backed away from the wagon, as Eleuia took the reins.

“Look,” Eleuia said, “I don’t bear you any ill will, but there’s nothing I can do for you. I don’t have the equipment to get a horse over the wall. A few barrels and boxes is the best I can manage. Even those I can only do a couple at a time. I suppose you could try bluffing your way through the gate if you really insist on taking the horse, but the chances of you pulling that off are slim, at best. Sorry I couldn’t be of more...” She turned her head and looked out across the field at Borisin. “...help. I...”

Rudiger looked back at Borisin, who was just standing there. The horse turned his head slightly to meet Rudiger’s gaze.

What’s going on? Rudiger asked.

“Of course...I suppose, maybe,” Eleuia stuttered. “With better equipment...Even then, it would...it would take...too...long.”

What are you doing? Rudiger said.

Who, me? Borisin replied.

“That might work, I guess,” Eleuia said. “It would take a lot of planning...a lot of time. Yeah, I could do that instead. It’ll take time, too. But it wouldn’t be difficult.”

“You did something!” Rudiger said. Borisin turned around and began grazing. “You did something!”

“What did he do?” Zandrue asked, coming up beside Rudiger.

Rudiger shrugged. “He won’t say.”

“Ervin,” Eleuia said, “take the wagon back to Getavin. Manik, Ses-Abet, come with me. I, uh, guess we’re going back to the wall, after all.”

“Why do you change your mind?” Jorvan asked.

“He spoke to me.”

Rudiger turned around and stared in surprise at Eleuia as she climbed down from the driver’s seat. “That’s impossible.”

“Why impossible?” Jorvan asked. “He speaks to you.”

“Yeah, well, he’s only ever spoken to me. I always assumed that there was some special connection between the two of us, that he couldn’t speak to anyone else.”

“He spoke to me.” Eleuia was staring across the clearing at Borisin, her gaze unwavering.

“He never speaks to anybody else,” Rudiger said.

Says you.

“Interesting,” Jorvan said.

“I...I can’t get the horses across now,” Eleuia said, still staring at Borisin. “However, there’s a way I can maybe do it later. It’ll be a few months though. I’ll...uh...I’ll look after them until then.”

Borisin snorted. We’ll see about that. More likely I’ll look after her.

Rudiger stared at his horse. In all the time he’d had Borisin, the horse had never done anything like this. Rudiger hadn’t even known it was possible. How much more was Borisin holding out on him?