Rhiannon stood by her window, gazing out over the gardens below, trying to keep her aching heart from breaking, and failing miserably. There had been no sign of Baudwin since the previous day, which didn't surprise her. She'd always known his love would turn to hate once he found out what she'd done. How she was responsible for the daily pain he suffered from his injured leg. How could he ever see past her deception and forgive her?

Turning back to the room, she grabbed her satchel from a chair, the same one she'd brought with her from the swamps of Lyndor. She'd only packed the necessities, ready to disappear again. The further she could run, the better she could hide, the safer everyone would be. The Godstone had to remain secure, she its intended guardian. With a last look at her bedchamber, she left. The shared sitting room was empty, and the door to Baudwin's room open, which usually signalled his absence. She would have loved to see him one last time, but it was probably easier for them both that she didn't.

Pulling on a thick, woollen cloak to ward off the chilly autumn air, she made her way through the castle hallways, avoiding any areas she knew would be busy. There was a buzz in the air, an anticipation of the expected surrender by the western lords. It was the perfect time to escape unnoticed as everyone was preoccupied.

Even in the stables, the men working there were nervously hovering outside chatting amongst themselves, none of them noticing as she slipped inside and saddled a dapple grey mare.

She was just about to mount the horse by the courtyard gate when someone gently touched her shoulder. Turning around, it surprised her to find Isobel standing behind her. The sorceress raised a winged eyebrow.

"So, you're leaving?"

"It's for the best," Rhiannon muttered. "I must keep the Godstone safe."

Isobel nodded. "True, we can't allow Deva's son to wield its power. Whatever you do, make sure you keep it safe. If needed, send for me or Wray and we will come to your aid."

The kind words were like tiny barbs in her chest. "Thank you. I don't deserve it."

"What you did..." The blonde sorceress looked away, a small line appearing on her brow as she frowned. "It was horrific. I can't even imagine what the captives went through during Deva's time in Highglaive."

The darkness threatening to engulf her, Rhiannon dug her fingernails into her palm to remain grounded. Isobel shifted to meet her gaze, her deep-blue eyes kind.

"But you were one of those captives," she continued. "You endured a lot as well. Yes, you ended up feeding them information, but it wasn't with malicious intent. You're not evil. You're not a bad person. Just someone who made some bad decisions. Which regrettably had terrible repercussions for others."

Choking back a strangled sob, Rhiannon covered her mouth with her hand as she shook her head. "I never wanted anyone to suffer!"

"I know." Isobel smiled wistfully. "They did, but you can't change the past. You need to learn to live with what you did, and endeavour to do better."

Rhiannon nodded. "I'm trying," she said. "I'm leaving, hoping to keep you all safe."

"Be careful. And don't hesitate to contact us if you need anything." Isobel surprised her by embracing her in a hug, and at first she stiffly stood there, but then she relaxed and returned the hug. Maybe it wasn't the end of the world to rely on others occasionally.

"Thank you," she mumbled against the blonde sorceress's hair.

"You're running away?" The terse question made them both jump, and they stepped away from each other. For a moment Rhiannon hoped the dark voice belonged to Baudwin, but turning around it was Wray standing a few steps away, staring at them.

"Yes. There is no reason for me to stay here, and every reason to leave."

"What about your husband?" Isobel asked.

The mention of Baudwin was like a hot poker plunging into her very soul, and she had to steel herself from buckling under the weight of her pain. "He wants nothing more to do with me now," she said, keeping her voice even.

"I'm sure that's not true," the sorceress said, but didn't sound too certain.

"It's for the best," Rhiannon pressed on, pretending she wasn't falling apart inside. Pretending that leaving Baudwin didn't feel like leaving a part of herself. A part she could never get back. "He deserves better."

"Does he know you're leaving?"

Unable to meet the sincere dark-blue eyes, Rhiannon looked away. "No. But I don't think it matters. It's easier this way."

Isobel looked at the tall sorcerer, as if she was hoping he would help her convince her to stay, but he was busy staring at the medallion on Rhiannon's chest.

"Wray?" she prompted.

With only a cursory look at his companion, he took a few steps towards Rhiannon. "I'm sorry," he said, but his voice belied the words, tense and confrontational, "but I must ask you... Where did you get that pendant? Did you steal it?"

Her hand flew up to the silver locket as she scowled at him. "No," she said coldly. "It's a family heirloom. I have done some terrible things, but I am not a thief!"

Whatever response the sorcerer had expected, this was not it, as he took a step back in shock, his eyes widening. "A family heirloom? I thought you were Lord Delen's daughter?"

"Stepdaughter," she replied curtly. "It's my actual father's medallion. My mother gave it to me before my marriage."

"Your father's..." Wray was still staring at her. "Your father. Was he Owein of Aras?"

How could he know that? It was Rhiannon's turn to stare. "How...?"

"He was my older brother."

The words hung between them as they both processed the truth. Staring at the sorcerer, Rhiannon struggled to digest the implications. If her father was Wray's brother...

"You're my uncle?" It didn't seem possible. She had known Wray during her time in Highglaive, and neither of them had ever suspected. Why would they though? She had used a fake name and had never known the name of her father's brother. Had never even known her father had a brother until recently.

Wray let out a disbelieving huff. "It would seem so." Dragging a hand through his dark hair, he took a deep breath. "I knew my brother's widow remarried, but I never knew who. I had moved to Highglaive before he passed away."

"But you're not much older than I am." It didn't seem real. He had been a newly appointed sorcerer when she arrived at Highglaive, and hadn't spent too much time with the adepts, but she'd still seen him around. They had interacted a few times, but she'd never known. And I caused him so much pain. My own blood.

"A few years," he said gruffly. "Owein was my senior by nearly fifteen years. I think I was six when he became a father."

She only had a few faint recollections of her father, as he'd passed away when she was still quite young, but as she stared at the man before her, there were parts of him that vaguely reminded her of the man from her memories. When Wray stepped closer to her, she almost flinched, but held still as he reached out to lift the medallion from her chest.

"It was our mother's," he told her, his thumb caressing the intricate etching. "Given to her by our father on their wedding day. Passed down in our family for generations. This is our family crest."

"I didn't know that. My mother never told me." She tried to sound calm, not wanting to give away the hiding place of the Godstone to anyone. At least not yet.

A lopsided smile grazed Wray's face. "I should have realised. Healers are so rare, but our family is known for them. I didn't inherit the affinity, but some of the best healers the world has seen have been from our family."

"You had no reason to think we were related." She carefully retrieved the medallion from his fingers. "Of course you never suspected."

"Welcome to the family, I suppose." He let out a dark chuckle. "I'm afraid it's just the two of us these days."

They were saved from the awkward moment by the sight of Aurelian, bloodied and dirty, running up the cobbled street towards them. Isobel was the first to react, hurrying to meet him and assisting him as he stumbled and fell to his knees by the courtyard gates.

"What's happened?" Rhiannon asked, watching the envoy's shoulders heave as he tried to catch his breath.

"Am... Ambush," he panted. "Bau... Baudwin."

A spear of fear shot through her. "What about Baudwin?"

Aurelian took a few gulping breaths before finally getting his breathing under control and could stand up. "We went to meet with the western lords to accept their surrender," he said, his voice still strained. "But once there they ambushed us. They had a mage, and our soldiers didn't stand a chance."

"A mage?" Isobel's voice rang loudly in the quiet courtyard. "Do you know him? A sorcerer?"

The envoy shook his head. "Not someone I recognise from my time in Messina. Ginger hair and beard. Tall."

"I think I know him," Rhiannon said, remembering the man who had visited her room at the Delen castle on Devin's behalf. She'd not realised he too was a mage. Orc's ass! She should have. Of course, Devin wouldn't be stupid enough to send her a regular person to pressure her. He knew she could easily overpower nearly anyone who didn't know magic. Like she had Ailla.

Aurelian's blue eyes met hers. "They captured Baudwin. Told me to give you a message. Said you'd know what it meant."

"What's the message?"

"They will trade him for what they want." Aurelian looked perplexed as he repeated the words. "I don't know what they want, but I suppose you do?"

She nodded as both sorcerers looked at her, understanding the message as well. Closing her eyes, she frantically wondered what she should do. There was no way she could allow Devin to get the Godstone. But she also couldn't let them kill Baudwin.

"We should get Baudwin back," Isobel was saying, and Rhiannon opened her eyes to look at the sorceress. The blonde woman was glaring stubbornly at Wray, who was shaking his head.

"We can't," he said. "You know we're not allowed to meddle in the affairs of the kingdoms."

"This is no longer just about the kingdom!" Isobel snapped. "It's about so much more."

"Unless Grand Sorcerer Arawn tells us to intervene, we are not allowed." Wray dragged a hand through his dark hair again, setting it on end. "We should send him a message straight away to ask what we should do."

It was obvious that the sorceress wanted to argue, but after a quick look at Aurelian—who looked exhausted—she sighed. "Let's talk inside the castle. We need to tell the council what's happened and decide on an action together."

With a nod, Wray assisted Aurelian as they walked across the courtyard while Isobel hung back a moment. Once they were out of earshot, she gave Rhiannon a shrewd look.

"I assume you'll try to save him?"

"Yes. I'm not bound by the rules of a sorcerer. And I must try. It's Baudwin..."

"Have you told him you love him?"

Taken aback by the question, Rhiannon could only stare for a moment before muttering, "It hardly matters now."

Isobel smiled. "I suspect it does. Maybe you should tell him." Then her face grew serious. "Please be careful. Deva taught his mages dark magic that we know very little about. They can do things we never could."

Having seen some of these things up close, Rhiannon nodded grimly. It didn't matter, she would offer herself in place of Baudwin if that's what it took. To keep him safe, she would do anything. Risk anything.

"And I know it goes without saying," Isobel continued, sounding hesitant, "but please keep the Godstone safe. It cannot fall into their hands."

"I know."

"Be safe." Isobel surprised her with another hug, and she hugged her back tightly. "I hope to see you again soon."

With those last words, the sorceress turned around and hurried across the courtyard to join the others inside the castle. Rhiannon looked after her for a moment before finally mounting her horse and spurring it down the hill towards the city below. It was quite possible that she was walking into a trap, and she did not know if the ginger man was more powerful than she was. But she didn't care. Baudwin was in danger, and that was the only thing that mattered.

By the time the council had decided on what to do, or the sorcerers heard back from Highglaive, it would surely be too late. She was his only hope, and she could only pray she was enough.

~~~~~~