Ulsper awoke to a chomping sound somewhere near his head. Metal clanked in the distance, and an insect was buzzing somewhere above, a low droning hum that could easily lull him back to sleep if he wished.

It was only after a huff of hot air blasted in his left ear, however, that Ulsper fully came to his senses, shooting up from the ground to find that he was sitting in the middle of a hilly field of tall, swaying grass. Behind him, the creature that had been grazing gave a somewhat concerned bleat.

"Patron of the Damned," Ulsper swore under his breath. His leg was shooting pains, and the early spring air easily sliced through his coat and chilled him to the bone. He had lost track of how long he had wandered the previous night, and the last thing he remembered was following a road in the early morning light before exhaustion overtook him. Squinting, Ulsper shielded his eyes with a hand and looked at the sky. Judging by the light, it must have been late afternoon.

After checking that he still had his weapons, he stumbled to his feet, his aching body making even that simple task difficult. The lone sheep that had been steadily drawing nearer suddenly bounded away, startled by his movements as he finally stood up.

Ah, there was that road he remembered.

Ulsper looked down one way, then the other, but for the life of him, couldn't remember the direction he had come from. And there was no telling where Kalasha's squadron was, either.

Ulsper hissed and looked down as his leg gave another painful twinge that threatened to send him collapsing back on the ground. The ripped cloth around his leg was soaked in red.

"Amaká?"

Ulsper's reaction was instinctive – the daggers were in his hands before he even spun to face the owner of the voice behind him, only to find a small wide-eyed boy staring back.

The motion hadn't been good for his leg, and Ulsper struggled to focus as his vision blurred.

"Sorry, you took me by surprise," he explained in Shun Dwo, gently lowering his daggers to show the child he meant no harm. "Do you live near here?"

But the boy merely gazed back at him, the initial fear in his eyes giving way to curiosity as he realized this strange foreigner meant no harm.

"Pá-mali et sosù. Mì lok nu raí?"

Ulsper frowned, taking in the boy's rough woolen clothes and hooked staff twice as high as his small figure. He must have belonged to one of the shepherding families that supported the tapestry-weaving industry on the western slopes. And for the boy to not understand Shun Dwo was not a good sign – it meant they were much farther from Fai than Ulsper had hoped.

"How far, to Fai?" Ulsper tried, stretching his arms out to express distance. "Fai?"

This word, at least, the boy seemed to recognize. "Fai! Mēk-tan mará!"

"No – wait!" Ulsper tried to stop the boy, but grunted in pain as his leg gave way and he stumbled. The little shepherd went darting through the grass like a minnow downstream, and all too soon had disappeared into the meadow.

This wasn't good. If Ulsper wasn't gone by the time the boy returned, he'd most likely be tied up again, and this time, he doubted he could escape in his current condition. The world was spinning, and he tried to take a step forward—

The next thing he knew, he was on the ground, clumps of dirt and gravel digging into his cheek. Ulsper was too tired for any thoughts but one:

Ow.

Grunting, he staggered upright again, bracing his hands on his knees until the spinning in his vision subsided. He faintly registered the sounds of sheep bleating on the other side of the hill, and rubbed at the pressure building behind his forehead. Think!

Sweat was beading at his brow, and the hem of his sleeve came away damp. He'd been following the Archer's Constellation the previous night, but now there was no telling which direction he was facing. If Kalasha and her squadron had taken him an entire night's journey away from Fai, he could be at least halfway down the mountain, and he needed to get back to the city quickly. The sooner he could meet up with Saer Lon and Suthe in the capital, the better.

"You look like you've spent a day in the demon realm," a gravelly voice said, and Ulsper spun around, using energy he didn't have to confront yet another person who had snuck up on him in his compromised state.

It was only an old woman, but Ulsper was too tired to feel embarrassed about his overreaction.

"You know Shun Dwo," he said, swallowing hard as a bout of nausea washed over him.

The woman leaned on her cane and raised a brow. "As do you."

"There was a boy, earlier—who didn't," Ulsper tried to explain, hoping he made sense. With pain clouding his senses, he was finding it difficult to think, let alone in a second language.

The woman nodded. "Most herders here only know Tsukian. You should get back to the city soon, where they're more likely to understand you."

"How far is it, to Fai?" Ulsper asked. He didn't miss the woman's glance down at his injury.

"With that leg, it's very far," she said, turning. "Follow me."

He hesitated, but only for a moment. She was right—he wouldn't get anywhere soon with his injury, and the only thing he could do was trust her.

She led him inside a small mud hut at the edge of the field, and ushered Ulsper over to a chair before going over to some baskets in a corner and setting her cane down to rustle through the bundles of dried plants and ceramic bottles.

"Why are you helping me?" Ulsper finally asked. His question seemed too loud after the silence and gentle clinking of ceramic. He fought back the urge to sneeze as some scent – perhaps chamomile – wafted through the air, stirred up by the woman's motions.

"There's been no peace around here, lately," was her reply. She didn't look up at him as she continued. "It's best if you and your kind leave as soon as possible, before the innocent get hurt."

"I could hurt you." He was curious at her reasoning, and only voiced it out of an interest to see her reaction. Was she just a sheltered weaver with idealized notions of helping strangers, or did she truly believe he meant her no harm?

"No, you won't."

"How are you so sure?" He leaned forward despite the pain it added to his injury, watching her movements as her back was still facing him. There was no stiffness in her movements, but despite this, Ulsper had a hard time believing she was not at least intimidated by his presence.

The woman cleared her throat. "I've known many different types of people in my lifetime. You're not like the others that have been traveling the roads lately. There's a hesitancy in you."

"A hesitancy?" He frowned. That didn't sound like a good trait for Sylterra's best spy to have, but then, if it helped him in this moment of need, perhaps he could worry about addressing it at a different time.

"Hmm. Here."

Instead of the herbs he had been expecting, the old woman thrust a long-necked bottle into his hands. "Drink this."

"I'm not going to—" he broke off when he noticed the curved needle she was holding. It had been a while since he'd last had stitches, and his body was still sore from the previous day's torture.

All right, then.

He took a swig from the bottle. The alcohol burned along his tongue, harsh and strong, but he gave a start as the woman moved towards his leg and began undoing the makeshift bandage.

"I can do it myself," he said, reaching for the needle. "I've done it before."

She pulled the needle out of range. "And done a sloppy job of it, I wager. No one sews their own skin well, especially if they're inebriated. Just sit still and try not to squirm too much. Don't worry – I've had plenty of practice."

Ulsper grimaced and downed another gulp of the alcohol, not feeling much up to arguing in his exhausted state. Trying to distract himself, he turned to look out the nearest window at the field outside.

"I never knew shepherding and weaving required such skilled medical knowledge," he commented as the needle pierced his skin.

Unlike her wobbly balance, the woman's hands were steady. "I've had other occupations in the city, before this one," she said. "But country life suited me better."

Ulsper took another drink from the bottle, then held it up to examine the label. "Country life, maybe, but you couldn't give up city drink, it seems," he said, narrowing his eyes. "This is illegal."

She looked up, briefly, to catch his eye. "And you are one to care about the legality of my drink?"

The next stitch stabbed perhaps a bit more harshly into his leg than the previous ones, and Ulsper bit back a hiss.

"Quite the opposite, actually," he said, bringing the bottle up to his lips again – though this time he only took a small sip. "I happen to be an acquaintance of your supplier."

"Oh?" Her reply was casual. "Well, then, do send my regards."

Ulsper focused on his breathing as she continued the stitches, drawing on Andilirish meditation practices to draw his attention away from the pain. Instead, he thought of Saer Lon's illicit trading activities, and the secret network of smugglers who may or may not be able to give them a lead on finding the Twin Blades.

He frowned, feeling like he was missing something.

"You mentioned the people who live here mainly speak Tsukian?" Ulsper asked.

The woman nodded, adding another stitch. "Many families here have ancestors who came from Tanetsu."

"Enji is a Tsukian name, isn't it?"

It seemed to Ulsper as though the needle paused for a fraction longer than usual before plunging back into his skin.

"It is." Her head was bowed as she focused intently on her work.

"Is it a common name?"

She glanced back up at him. "It's not uncommon. Why do you ask?"

He shrugged, feigning indifference. "Just heard it mentioned in passing conversation."

"Hm." The woman removed the needle and deftly knotted the remaining thread. "It's done. You should leave now, before the boy comes back and brings the others with him. It will only draw the attention of those other foreigners that have been roaming around lately."

Ulsper gingerly stood up, testing his weight on the injured leg. The wound still hurt, but It was better than before.

"Thank you," he said. "If there's anything I can do to repay you – "

"The sooner those soldiers leave, the better," the woman said, retrieving her cane while also fetching a strip of plain cloth to hand to him. "Being able to live in peace once more, without the worry of their presence, is all the payment I desire. Though I suppose now that things have changed, even if you leave, there's no guarantee that they'll follow you."

Ulsper paused, absently rubbing a finger against the cloth in his hand. "What do you mean?"

The woman leaned against her cane. "There's apparently been a druith spotted running through the streets of Fai last evening. Popped out of no where and vanished in much the same way, according to witnesses." She waved her hand dismissively. "With Montmyth's decree against them, there's sure to be a bounty for her capture, and those foreigners roaming around here look like the mercenary type."

Ulsper's lips thinned. "Just last night? News travels fast." It must have been Suthe. But what would she have been doing in Fai, when Saer Lon should have already taken her to Sang Bur?

She raised her eyebrows. "Oh, but of course. There's not much else to do out here but gossip. I heard it from the cheese merchant's husband just this morning. He in turn heard it from the dye-maker, whose nephew is an apprentice to the blacksmith, whose wife had to go into town yesterday to buy new shoes from the cobbler."

Ulsper wasn't sure if he would have followed that explanation even if it had been told to him in Noth when he was fully sober, but nodded all the same, pretending to have understood.

"That's uh, a lot of people," he said. Unsure of what else to say, he took the pause to bandage his wound with the fresh strip of cloth he had been given.

Outside the hut, a shout rang out from the other side of the field, and Ulsper checked the window again. The shepherd boy had returned, leading a handful of countryside residents tromping through the grass behind him. Sheep scattered in their wake, bleating nervously.

"You should go," the woman said. "Out the side door – I'll distract them."

"Which way is it back to Fai?" Ulsper asked.

"Up that road and turn right at the tree," she said, pointing.

Ulsper nodded. "Thank you again. Truly. And please – be careful who you help around here. The next injured stranger might not be as...harmless."

She waved her hand in much the same dismissive way as she had earlier. "I told you, I've spent a lot of time figuring out the types of people I can trust," she said. "But thank you for your concern."

Ulsper nodded, having nothing else to say. He had tried to warn her, and that was the best he could do.

With one last glance out the window, he stepped through the side door, and headed back up the road to Fai.