OoOoO

Jath would have needed to rise early to meet Darenel Tremaris, if he hadn't already been awake the entire night. Reyson saw him off from the front stoop of The LightHouse with a curt nod. No one else saw Jath leave...or so he thought. Despite the men's best efforts to be quiet, Lhara was awake as well. Chin resting on her arms atop the windowsill, her new eye-glasses sliding down her nose, Lhara watched Jath make his way down the empty street. She continued to watch even long after Jath turned a corner and disappeared.

The sun hadn't yet fully risen, and the city was still quiet. Fog lingered over the tranquil surface of Aryna Lake, a grey curtain hiding the far shore from sight. Already though, the rosy glow of the sky was beginning to thin the veil. Birds nesting in the rooftops were rousing from sleep, chirruping sleepily. The owls had not all withdrawn to the heights of Mirrormorn Castle; a lone barred owl watched Jath as he passed, its black eyes fathomless and unblinking.

Darenel had requested that Jath meet him at a private dock, a short way further inland from the main piers along the shore of the lake. A thin layer of frost crackled under Jath's boots as he navigated the once-familiar city streets. When he reached the outskirts of the city proper, the cobblestones turned to gravel. A road wound its way along the lakeshore, set a short distance up from the water, framed on either side by low stone walls covered with moss and tiny purple flowers. This was the road along which the nobility of Blue Stone kept their summer estates.

Once or twice, in another life, Jatheryn Saurivic had come to Blue Stone in a gilded carriage, accompanying his family on visits to Rosarin Saurivic's parents. Lord and Lady Wynmyar could not have begun to guess that their grandson – formally pronounced dead by King Mahir – was just now less than one hundred meters from their estate's boat launch. Jath paused for a moment outside the ornate, wrought iron gate. He could see the boat house from where he stood, still painted robin's-egg blue, still surrounded by weeping willows growing along the water's edge. In another life, he and his younger sister Awenis had played hide-and-go-seek inside that very boat house.

He was no longer Jatheryn Saurivic though, and he no longer had a sister named Awenis, whose laughter trilled like birdsong and whose hair was as soft and fine as spun silk. The nobles who owned this boat house were the wealthy and powerful Lord and Lady Wynmyar of Blue Stone, and he was just Jath, the wandering Factionist who owned nothing and lived nowhere. Pulling his hood up further, Jath turned away from the gate and continued on his way.

Darenel was waiting at a small, secluded little dock, half-forgotten at the end of the road and tucked away beneath a grassy hillock. A single boat – a flat-bottomed skiff – was moored there, a pair of oars already inside. He stood in stark contrast to the pale, coral-pink glow of the rising dawn; his cape was black, his hair slicked back and dark against his sallow skin. As Jath approached, Darenel turned, pivoting around the cane upon which he leant.

"Jatheryn..."

"Darenel," said Jath curtly, making it clear that small talk was not welcome.

Darenel indicated the boat. "Shall we?"

Despite himself, Jath couldn't help but watch Darenel out the corner of one eye. In the time it took him to step down into the skiff and take a seat, Darenel was barely halfway seated on the edge of the dock. Jath's memories of Darenel were of a young, vibrant boy, the picture of health and youthful gayety. The man before him now moved with the painful stiffness of someone three times their age. Jath's first instinct was to offer to help. Then he remembered how stiff and cold Awenis's body had grown in his arms, and said nothing.

Finally, once he was settled, Darenel took up the oars and set them to the water. Sitting down seemed to restore Darenel at least somewhat, and by the time they reached the middle of the lake, the exertion of rowing had put at least some colour in his hollow cheeks.

"Whatever has happened between now and our last meeting, I will not pity this man," Jath told himself. "No amount of hardship could ever make amends for what he did to Awenis."

When they were far enough from shore to ensure they would not be overheard, Darenel put up the oars. Beyond the hills surrounding Aryna Lake, a golden hue was beginning to rise in the east. The first signs of movement could now be seen at the city's main docks, and beyond, the clocktower in the marketplace tolled faintly.

"So," said Jath. Impatient, he snapped "Come now Darenel, you didn't go to such lengths just so you could stare at me in the middle of a lake for an hour."

Darenel swallowed hard. "...Where is Awenis?"

"She's dead," said Jath shortly. "Dead and lost in a nameless grave."

Darenel's grip on the side of the skiff tightened so brutally, his knuckles shone bone-white through his skin. Jath caught sight of a silvery-blue ring on his smallest finger...a twisted loop that promised eternity.

"You have no right to wear that," he hissed.

Ignoring Jath, Darenel leaned in. This close, it was obvious now that something was quite wrong with the man. Ashen hollows stood out beneath his eyes and cheeks. His eyes, once as clear, dark blue as the waters of Aryna Lake, burned almost unnaturally, feverishly bright.

"What happened to her?" The words came out strangled.

"She bled to death losing her child...the child she conceived from your affair. We were on the road when it happened, alone and far from help in the middle of winter. We sought shelter in an abandoned barn. Awenis died there, cold...in pain..." Jath's throat hitched, despite his efforts to speak dispassionately. It took him a minute to be able to continue. Remembering his anger toward Darenel Tremaris helped. "After you abandoned her, she was so afraid of what would happen to her and her child. She was willing to risk everything if it meant escaping Vaelona. You took her youth, Darenel. Then you took her home, and finally her life. In doing so, you took everything from me...what little I had in the first place," added Jath, at last allowing himself to feel a small measure of the bitterness he had been swallowing down every day since leaving Vaelona.

Darenel reeled back from Jath's scathing accusations. Clutching the side of the boat with one hand, he hid his face with the other. The ring of twilight silver glimmered, reflecting the light of the rising sun mockingly in Jath's face. A shudder shook through Darenel, like a cold autumn wind making dry leaves tremble on a branch. When at last he brought his hand down from his face, his eyes were red with tears.

"So now you weep." Jath shook his head in disgust. "Your tears cannot help Awenis, nor her child. There was a brief moment in time, that day when we came to the Tremaris estate looking for you, where your presence might have done some good. You abandoned Awenis...hid away like a sullen child...you may as well have-"

"Jath."

"What!?" snapped Jath.

"Will you let me explain?"

His anger finally, finally rushing to the surface after nearly two years suppressed, Jath was not really interested in explanations. A lifetime's worth of constant conditioning to the decorum of a nobleman won out in the end, but only just. He sat grinding his teeth and curling his lip, but he did not interrupt Darenel when he went to continue.

Darenel's gaze slid past Jath to the glassy surface of the lake, as if seeing the events of days past playing out in the reflection.

"You know how it all began to fall apart; that evening when you caught me sneaking out of Awenis's room. My side of the story continues with my return home that evening..."

OoOoO

"But why can't I see Aunt Marielle tonight!? I have something important that I need to tell her straight away."

Danilo and Gislane Tremaris exchanged a look. Everyone in the Tremaris family knew from decades of firsthand experience how cantankerous their elderly matriarch could be. It was not for the sake of simple pettiness that they stood between their youngest son and the doorway to Lady Marielle's apartments.

"Your great aunt leaves for Amenthere very early tomorrow morning, Darenel. Didn't we tell everyone as much over breakfast this morning?" Lord Danilo's voice was hushed, trying not to disturb the rest of the household.

Gislane threw a quick glance over her shoulder at the closed door. As Marielle's niece, she knew even better than her husband the importance of keeping the peace. "Come away, Darenel. Whatever this is about, it can surely wait until Aunt Marielle returns." Trying a new tactic, she smiled reassuringly. "This is an important visit not just for her, but for you as well. She'll be paying the Brinmorn family a visit, and passing along greetings on your behalf to young Lady Shalisse. Your twentieth birth day is less than two years away now, so it's more important than ever to impress your good reputation upon your intended."

Danilo nodded, eagerly following his wife's line of thinking. "Yes, exactly! The Brinmorns are second only to the Volkain family for rank in the capital, one of the Amenthere's three ruling families after the blood of Amenthis itself. Your engagement to their eldest daughter is one of the best arrangements our family has ever made!"

"But Father, that is exactly what I need to speak to Aunt Marielle about," said Darenel. He tried to reach around Danilo to the door knocker, but was too far away. "Please, it's only nine o'clock, surely she can't have gone to bed already?"

"Darenel, whatever has gotten into you?" Gislane glanced nervously at the door again. "Come now, perhaps you could bring it up with Aunt Marielle in the morning? If you wake early, she might be able to spare you a minute on her way out."

"I can't take the chance of missing her before she leaves, especially if she's going to see the Brinmorns. Please Mother, if I could just-"

Click

The sharp sound of a latch opening stopped Lord Danilo and Lady Gislane in mid-argument. Gislane paled slightly. Catching her husband by the elbow, she quickly tugged him out of the way.

Marielle Tremaris stepped out into the sitting room. She wore a silk nightrobe, but her earrings were still in and her hair was still up. Eyeing the three of them, Marielle's thin, unpainted lips pressed together in annoyance.

"Whatever the boy has to say, Gislane, you may as well let him spit it out before he keeps us all awake." Marielle fixed Darenel with a stern, deeply unimpressed frown. "Well? You wanted my attention and now, whether I like it or not, you have it."

"Aunt Marielle, I-"

"I can hear niceties coming, and if it's all the same to you, I'd rather be getting in some sleep before the trip to Amenthere. Out with it, in plain words!"

Darenel pulled in a deep breath before giving Marielle exactly what she had asked for.

"I won't marry Shalisse Brinmorn. I can't, because I am already courting Awenis Saurivic."

"Darenel!"

If the Tremaris household wasn't already being kept awake, Gislane's shriek would have shaken them all out of their beds regardless. Danilo gawked at his youngest son as if Darenel had just sprouted a second head.

"I'm an old woman, and I'm afraid that my ears must be failing me." Marielle's knobby hand shot out, catching Darenel by the front of his shirt and pulling him in uncomfortably close. "Would you please be so kind...as to repeat what you just said...?"

Startled, Darenel's pronouncement came out somewhat breathless the second time. "I said I'm courting Awenis Saurivic!"

"Aunt Marielle, this must be some sort of prank, something Darenel and those boys he wastes his time with have come up with," said Danilo in a frantic rush. He clamped a bruising grip down on Darenel's shoulder. "Isn't that so, Darenel!?"

Eyes watering from the intensity of Marielle's perfume, Darenel managed to shake his head. "No! It's not a prank! I lo-ack!"

Marielle's fingernails pinching down hard on his ear cut Darenel off mid-protest. Gislane raised a hand as if to intervene, but a withering stare from Marielle quickly drove her back.

"Don't you even think about finishing that sentence, you foolish boy. I don't know where you got the notion that you had the right to make and break your own engagements, but this is no southern peasant's leaky hut! This is the Tremaris family estate, and I am the head of the Tremaris family. You, on the other hand, are an unwashed child who has been allowed to run wild for far too long. Gislane! Danilo! We will discuss your children's lack of discipline when I return from Amenthere. In the meantime, we handle this my way. Piers!"

Piers - a beefy specimen well over six feet tall and Marielle's favourite footman – appeared in the doorway. Whatever the servant thought of seeing the youngest member of the Tremaris household bent over, squirming with his ear pinched between the family head's painted talons, Pier's blank expression offered no clues.

"Escort Lord Darenel to his apartments, and see to it that he stays there. I want him confined to the upper levels of the estate until I return from the capital. He is not to leave, and he is not to have any visitors outside of the family. Have I made myself clear?"

"Yes indeed, Lady Tremaris." Respectfully – he was after all still only a servant – Piers wrapped a hand the size of a glazed ham around Darenel's elbow. "Lord Darenel, please come with me."

OoOoO

"So that's it, then?" Jath sat back on the bow seat, arms folded, thoroughly unimpressed. "Your great-aunt bundled you up to your room like an errant child, and there you sat, utterly absent in Awenis's time of greatest need. Amenthis's beard, Awenis was younger and far more cloistered than you, and still she showed more backbone in standing up to her family."

Darenel's lip twitched in what could have almost been a faint smile. Jath felt his blood boil.

"Yes...I imagine she did...she was never fearful like I was."

"You did not deserve her."

"At last we agree upon something," replied Darenel ruefully. "But my story is not finished."

OoOoO

No sooner had the door to his apartments shut behind him, and Darenel was already looking for a means of escape.

"Awenis was right," he thought to himself. "We'll have to leave Vaelona. I wonder if we could book passage on a ship to Derbesh. Awenis would love The Weeping Keep..."

Planning for a future together was of little use if they were not actually together. Darenel went to the balcony and looked out. His rooms were on the third floor of the Tremaris estate; much too far down to simply jump. A pair of white birch trees grew in the gardens below though, and the topmost branches of the nearest one weren't impossibly far from the balcony.

Sundown had been nearly an hour ago. The grounds were shrouded in shadow, save for patches of light on the grass from the main floor windows. The servants would continue about their tasks until midnight, at which time everyone would go to bed and the entire estate would go dark. That, Darenel decided, was when he would make his move.

In the meantime, he sat planning the next course of action. From here, he would make his way to the Saurivic family estate. Awenis would be asleep, but she would want to know what had happened straight away. From there, as far as Darenel could see, they had two choices. They could go to Awenis's family and beg their protection. Jatheryn at least might support them, and perhaps that would be enough to win over Lord Jalborn. That would be the best-case scenario. If not...

If the Saurivics would not protect them, then he and Awenis would have little choice but to flee Vaelona. Although Darenel had never felt a particular yearning for travel, he suspected that Awenis would enjoy such a life of adventure.

"The sun in Derbesh is so strong though, surely it would burn her. Perhaps Hashodi then, or Falerik."

Darenel waited, biding his time until the last lamp downstairs had been extinguished. Then he made his preparations. Putting on his thickest cloak and boots, filling a satchel with whatever money and essentials were on hand, Darenel prepared for the possibility that he would not be returning.

The wind was blowing outside. The moon was half-full, silhouetting the branches of the birch tree against the darkened sky. Darenel was surprised by how chilly it was for a summer night when he opened the balcony doors. The leaves rustled ominously in the breeze, and Darenel shivered.

"It's not so far," he told himself. "There can be no holding back though. Jump, and mean it!"

He clambered up onto the marble railing. Perched there like a bird, his cloak billowing around him, Darenel felt very exposed. The branches of the birch tree waved at him, daring him to reach for them in the dark. His heart hammered in his throat. For a fleeting moment, he almost wished that his mother or father might suddenly discover him and pull him back. Reminding himself that life here in Vaelona would never be what he and Awenis wanted, Darenel took a deep breath...and jumped.

OoOoO

"And?" Darenel had fallen silent, prompting Jath to press for details. "Did you make it?"

"I did not."

"Oh." Jath couldn't help it; his pale gaze twitched from the cane across Darenel's lap to his legs, resting stiffly before him on the bottom of the skiff. "Is that...?"

Reaching down, Darenel hitched up the cuff of his trousers. Bolts and plates of smooth metal gleamed along both sides of his shin; a brace.

"Both legs?"

"Both legs. The bones came through the skin below the knees. My parents heard my screams, and found me lying there beneath the birches. They brought me back inside, and a physician was called immediately. The physician's skill was the best that money could buy, but even so, the bones could only be set so well. That I can walk and ride at all is far more than was predicted for me."

"Is that why you look so..." Unexpectedly, Jatheryn found himself rather at a loss for words. He gestured to Darenel's face. "You look very unwell."

Darenel's expression twisted sardonically. "You've caught me on one of my poorer days, I'm afraid. I developed an infection of the bones, exposed to the outside world as they were. It did not manage to kill me outright, but it is not something I am likely to ever fully recover from either. I am often stricken with fever and pain, sometimes to the point of being bedridden. Which is exactly where I was the day you and Awenis came calling. That is, at least, my best guess. At that point I was almost certainly drugged to oblivion on pain-dulling herbs and tinctures. I never even knew you were there. At least...not until later."

"How did you find out?"

"Going by the rumors that you and Awenis left Vaelona in mid-July, it would have been almost a month later. When I was at last healed enough to be weaned off the pain medicines, I remember asking my mother and father if Awenis knew what had happened." Daranel's expression once again took on a faraway look. "They wouldn't tell me anything, save that no one from the Saurivic household had come calling."

"A lie," interrupted Jath. "Awenis and I were there. You must know that, since you wear her ring..."

Sliding the infinity ring from his smallest finger, Darenel held it up. One of the rarest metals in all of Goran, the twilight silver gleamed as smooth and blue as the stones on the bottom of the lake below them.

"Yes, I knew it was a lie as soon as I saw this. It was entirely by accident that I found it, actually. Come late autumn, I was only just beginning to recover the ability to walk. Every time I asked after Awenis, my family told me that she had not come calling. They did not even tell me about her disappearance...or yours. Aunt Marielle was the worst."

"How so?"

"She kept telling me, every time I mentioned Awenis, that if she really loved me, she would come calling eventually. When I first regained my senses following the accident, the hope that Awenis would come filled my every waking hour. As the days turned to weeks and weeks turned to months though, something terrible happened...my hope began to turn to bitterness."

Jath was appalled. "You thought she'd abandoned you."

Darenel nodded, his head hanging dejectedly. "To my greatest shame. I wrote to her, many times, but unable to walk as I was, I could only give the letters to my family and hope that they would have them delivered as I asked. Little did I know that, by that time, Awenis was already long gone from Vaelona. Where did the two of you go, after you left?"

"Geristan."

"How long were you there for?"

"A winter." Thinking back, Jath winced at the memory of Hadriel Shakian's face, her lovely grey eyes widening in the glow of a streetlamp as she recognized him. "Then we left and headed east."

"Not along The Old Mountain Road!?" exclaimed Darenel. His waxen face went even greyer. "In the middle of winter, that is so-"

"Dangerous, I know." Jath cut Darenel off. "I know that better than most now. Back then, what did Awenis and I know of travel, children of the nobility as we were?"

"Jath..." Darenel swallowed painfully hard. "Did...did you say that Awenis was...with child? I know you did...but I must hear it again."

Jath witnessed with brutal clarity how his every word affected Darenel as he spoke. "Awenis was carrying your child. I don't know how long the two of you were carrying on your affair for, but she couldn't have been more than a month or two shy of childbirth when we tried to cross The Teeth. Halfway through the journey, she began to bleed. She never stopped bleeding...even...even as I held her at the end."

Throughout their conversation thus far, Darenel had maintained at least some measure of a nobleman's composure. Now, finally, his hold on that composure slipped away. With a dry sob, Darenel's head fell forward into his hands. He gripped so tightly at his own hair, strands of it pulled out and drifted to the bottom of the boat.

"She died...died thinking I...that I had hidden from her! She thought our love was a lie!" Jath's sharp intake of breath brought Darenel's head snapping up. His eyes blazed unnaturally bright behind tears. "Of course she did; haven't you yourself thought the same!? And the baby...!" Another heaving gasp escaped Darenel, like a man drowning in midair.

"Just as you thought the same of her..." said Jath, tears slipping silently down his own ashen cheeks.

What more was there to be said? The two of them sat weeping in that little boat, adrift on the glassy surface of Aryna Lake, their grief both intensely personal and inevitably shared.

Jath had shed his share of private tears in the years since Awenis's death. His eyes were the first to run dry, and for a time he sat simply watching the distant glimmer of stones on the bottom of the lake. Then he noticed something.

Refocusing on his own reflection, Jath did not startle to see two sets of eyes gazing up at him. Ever since Vinie had found him, near-death in The Forest of Latharan, Jath often glimpsed fleeting visions like this. At first, they had disturbed him, making his recovery under the care of the Factionists in Falerik all the more difficult. Once Vinie had confided in him that she too sometimes experienced 'echoes' of her lost husband, the visions had become easier to bear. Never again had Jath heard Awenis's voice as clearly as he had the night she died, commanding him to flee the burning barn and save himself. Every so often though, when he was thinking of her, Jath would imagine he had seen a glimpse of her white-gold hair out the corner of one eye, or heard a faint murmur that sounded like her voice. Sometimes, when he was half-asleep at night, he even thought he could smell her perfume. The 'echoes' of Awenis had been becoming less frequent though since Jath had met Lhara.

Looking down into their reflections on the water, Jath felt his heart skip a beat. Awenis was just as he remembered her; her long, baby-fine hair tumbling unbound about her shoulders, clad in a light summer gown with eyes of pale, frosted amber. Jath knew though that if he were to look away, he would not find Awenis sitting beside him, and when he returned to the water her reflection would be gone. Instead, Jath whispered to Awenis's reflection;

"Is he telling the truth?"

Awenis nodded.

"Do you forgive him?"

Again, a nod.

"Do you love him?"

Awenis's smile was as vibrant and perfect as the day they had visited The Rainbow Gardens. Then, suddenly, her pretty face turned sad. She lifted a hand to her heart, and on her finger Jath saw the infinity ring, shining. Jath blinked, and just like that, Awenis was gone, vanishing with the last of the morning mist.

Jath sat back on the bow seat to find Darenel watching him. Though his eyes were reddened, tears staining his hollow cheeks, he spoke calmly.

"I see her too."

"Just now?"

"No...but the first time was the spring after the accident. I think...in my heart...I knew Awenis was gone then. I didn't want to believe it though. I've been seeing her more frequently lately."

There were still some questions that remained unanswered for Jath. "How did you come to be in Blue Stone? At the head of a mercenary company, no less?"

Darenel's lips twitched in a self-depreciating smile. "A series of events, starting with the day I found Awenis's ring. I was just beginning to walk again, and the snow was melting. I saw it shining beneath one of the bushes at the front stoop. That was when I knew that Aunt Marielle had been lying to me...her and everyone else.

I still could not really walk though, and so I knew I had to bide my time. If I were to confront my great-aunt, still mostly bound to my wheel-chair as I was, no doubt she would have contrived some further means to contain me. So, I waited, and I healed. As I became more mobile, I managed by chance to learn of yours' and Awenis's departure."

"How?" asked Jath. "You said your messages to our estate were likely not being delivered."

"One day, while sitting out in the gardens in my wheel-chair, I saw a familiar face walking by the gates. It was Jenni, your sister's former maidservant. I say former, because she informed that she had been dismissed, and was looking for new employment. It was Jenni who told me all about the events at the Saurivic estate, leading up to and including your leaving. When I heard everything that had happened as far as the quarrel with your family, I knew I had to find Awenis and speak to her. I had hope now that, since she had clearly come looking for me, perhaps she did still love me after all.

So, from that day onward, I devoted all of my energy into regaining what strength I might. There were many setbacks, and to this day I still need the braces and cane to walk further than the length of a parlour. Still, almost a year after my fall, I was finally strong enough to set my plans in motion.

First, I went to our family's bookkeepers. After showing them my signet ring and proving my signature, I was able to withdraw enough money from our vaults to provide financial independence for myself. There wasn't much time before the bookkeepers would alert Marielle of the withdrawal, and so, after purchasing a horse and gear, I left Vaelona that day."

"Just like us..." murmured Jath.

Darenel sighed. "Not quite. Weighing my choices, I chose to go to Blue Stone first. I figured, considering that you and Awenis had maternal relatives here, perhaps this would have been your destination. Now, only so much later, I know that not only was I wrong...I was also too late. Far, far too late." Darenel shook his head bitterly at his stiff, shattered legs.

Jath found himself going back on his previous vow; a stab of pity touched him. "You could hardly have known, much less done anything about it in your condition."

"I was a fool," insisted Darenel. "To jump from a third-floor window in the dark, fixed on a vain hope of reaching a tree branch nearly ten feet away...a mistake, and it cost everything."

"When did the mercenaries come in?" asked Jath, trying to steer Darenel away from his bitter self-reproach.

It seemed to work. Leaning back against the stern, Darenel fiddled with the infinity ring. "They entered the picture in Geristan. I did make my way there, eventually, after a search of Blue Stone turned up no trace of either of you. A chance meeting with Hadriel Shakian on the road on her way to Amenthere also sent me in that direction."

"You saw Hadriel? When?" A flicker of the Jatheryn who had once pined after Hadriel spurred on his curiosity.

"Last autumn, almost a year ago exactly. She was headed for Amenthere with her family, there to be married to the eldest son of the Volkain family. You remember, the one who was at one time betrothed to Arzai Dorwiniel, Mahir's High Obad? Before she was discovered and sent to the Magicol, of course."

"I remember...so Hadriel is married now?"

"Yes, and rather unhappily if the rumours are anything to go by. Apparently Reven Volkain is a bit of a brute, with an appetite for his pretty young wife's looks but no interest in her beyond that."

"Oh." Jath reserved a private corner of his heart to mourn for Hadriel's fate. In all honesty, he had never really known her, but the Shakian girl and all she represented had been a symbol of hope for Jath in his life as a nobleman. "What did she tell you?"

"Hadriel told me that, although she couldn't be absolutely certain, she thought she had seen you – or at least someone who greatly resembled you - in Geristan the winter before, working as a minstrel. She said she hadn't seen Awenis, but I knew that where you were, Awenis couldn't be far. I set out for Geristan immediately."

"This was in the autumn of last year though, you said?"

"Yes, you and Awenis were of course long gone by the time I got there. I did find something of a lead when my description of you and Awenis got around to Thanic, the local tailor. I disregarded his story though when he said that, not only were his tenants an 'old beggar and his niece', but that the niece was also with child. If I had known about the child..." Darenel blinked hard up at the sky a few times before continuing. "When I was about to leave, Thanic said that, for a few luns, he could put me in touch with a couple of hunters who knew the area well. I think Thanic knew that these 'hunters' weren't just simple townsfolk; no doubt he was something of a recruiter for them.

When I approached the men Thanic recommended, their first reaction was to handle me as if I were any other local, looking for a job to be done. When I commissioned not only them, but also five other men whom they recommended, not just for one trek but for the entire winter, I think they realized that I was both very purposeful and very wealthy. Little did I know that these 'hunters', 'trail guides' and 'couriers' were actually the remnants of Kiiss ArtSeller's former network.

Gradually, little by little, my contacts within their community grew. As I came to employ more of them in the search for you and Awenis, word got back to Kiiss, who was beginning to reestablish her network after a long hiatus. She came all the way from Moaan to meet me in person. This was when the Factionist movement was truly beginning to get its feet under it, if you recall?"

Jath nodded. "I was in the east at the time, trying to recruit from the clans alongside Sula G'Hesh and Nadathan N'Shar. I never actually met Kiiss ArtSeller in person before I was put on a boat to Derbesh."

"Which makes perfect sense, considering that she did not recognize your description when I gave it to her. She did, however, make a deal with me. I could continue to utilize the members of her network in my search, so long as I also took on the role of coordinating 'deliveries' for her and her 'family business' here in central Goran. Between trying to revive her supply chains in the south and working with the Factionists, she said she had entirely too much to deal with and was ready to take on a business partner."

"And so, here we are," concluded Jath.

"Here we are."

Jath heaved out a long, slow breath. The sun, which had barely been above the hills when they first set out, now hung bright in the sky. The docks of Blue Stone were a hive of activity, and already boats were beginning to come and go. One long frigate, headed for the mouth of the Ramida River, passed close enough to Jath and Darenel to make their little skiff rock in its wake. Overhead, the last of the owls glided past on silent wings, on its way back to its home in the heights of Mirrormorn Castle.

"Awenis might have forgiven you, Darenel, but I cannot. You understand?"

Darenel stared at Jath with fevered eyes. "I did not ask to be forgiven. How could I, when Awenis is dead?"

Jath was not finished. "I may not be able to forgive you...but I do not hate you. We were all prisoners in the same glass box, and we were all cut by its shards when we dared to try and break free. We're free now though, you and I. Perhaps a little piece of Awenis managed to escape with us. I don't know. She's gone now, but we owe it to her to make the most of the lives we have now...the kind of life she risked everything for."

"Jath...I'm dying. I've been dying a little bit every day since I climbed down from Awenis's balcony. Before I die though, there is one more thing I must do...one more thing you must tell me."

Looking at Darenel, really taking in how ill the other man looked, Jath believed him. "What is it?" he asked, feeling older than he had even while posing as a blind old minstrel.

"Tell me where Awenis died. I want to go there, and have a marker built, so she'll never be lost again."

"Don't. She's not there, Darenel. She never has been. She's everywhere and anywhere...even here with us now...I can feel it."

Tilting his thin, wan face up to the sun, Darenel closed his eyes. Then he smiled.

"Yes, I believe she is." 

OoOoO