Hellebore by Chris Cook

Summary: A headstrong sorceress and a young Amazon join forces to locate and destroy an ancient source of demonic power.

Tara awoke with memories of warm, content dreams, to a warm, content bed. She recognized the feel of Willow in her arms, even before her mind had cleared enough to take stock of her position. The softness beneath her cheek was unmistakable – she smiled and cuddled up, her head resting on Willow's chest, one arm lazily draped around her waist, the other stretched out, up beneath the pillows, beneath the weight of Willow's head.

She realized, though, that this morning it was Willow who was holding her, gently, reassuringly, one hand on her back, the other in her hair, as if she had fallen asleep while stroking it. Tara couldn't remember exactly when they had succumbed to sleep. They hadn't made love the night before, but a long time had been spent holding each other, whispering comforting words, their hands slowly moving the length of each other's limbs and bodies, their lips pausing now and then to bestow kisses – sharing the moments.

And now Willow was holding her, just as she had found herself once falling into the habit of doing for Willow, from when they first began sleeping in the same bed – she would keep Willow's nightmares at bay, and with her arms around her lover be content in the knowledge that they would both sleep soundly.

'Now she's making sure I sleep soundly,' Tara realized with a warm smile. She knew Willow deeply regretted having upset her, in her panic over the vision she had seen – and as much as she wished she could simply relieve her of that burden, she could hardly have pretended that she had been unaffected by the prospect of a tearful, fearful Willow leaving her, in the belief that it was the only way to keep her safe. She had done her best to soothe Willow, and let her see that her own anxieties were soothed in return, and in time, she knew, the fright would be only a memory.

But for now, it seemed, in her sleep Willow felt the need to make it plain she was here to stay – that her promise last night, despite the ill omens hovering over them, to stay with Tara forever was sincere. Tara would never wish any turmoil on Willow, but her reaction was so sweet, so thoughtful, so...so Willow, that she couldn't help grinning, and tilting her head to place an impish kiss on her breast.

"Mmm-hmm," Tara replied, reaching her tongue out to lightly lick the nipple that had been tempting her since her eyes opened.

"Yup," Tara agreed. Willow giggled sleepily, and her hand in Tara's hair began stroking gently, smoothing the occasional tangle from the night's sleep.

"Wonderfully." Tara worked her arms around Willow's waist, and together they rolled onto their sides, embracing one another. With Willow's breasts right in her face, Tara couldn't resist taking a nipple into her mouth and sucking teasingly.

"Mmm...ah yeah..." Willow sighed. She arched her back, offering herself to Tara's lips, her fingers clutching reflexively at Tara's back as her tongue teased its prey to attention, in preparation for a gentle bite that sent shivers down Willow's spine.

"Yesss," she hissed with delight, "goddess...come here and kiss me, beautiful." Tara obediently released Willow's nipple, with a soft, parting nibble, and shifted up the bed to come level with her. Their mouths met, and Tara took full advantage of Willow's enthusiastically inviting kiss, claiming her mouth and exploring the fun to be had playing with her tongue. She held Willow's bottom lip between her teeth as she leaned back a fraction, eliciting an excited gasp.

"So," Willow murmured, gathering her wits, "you woke up frisky, huh?" Tara's lower hand moved down towards Willow's bottom, her fingertips stroking the top of the cleft between her cheeks.

Willow opened her mouth to answer, then paused, and her smile became a sly grin.

"Oh, you'll get one," Willow chuckled. Tara raised an enquiring eyebrow, but whatever Willow had in mind, she apparently didn't intend to explain it. 'I guess I get to find out the fun way,' Tara mused. She leaned in for a kiss, which she had intended to be quick, but which turned out to be quite prolonged, as Willow wound her hands through Tara's hair, held her, and her tongue took the initiative, quickly gaining the upper hand over Tara's and exploring her mouth at her leisure.

"Love you too," Willow replied. She gave Tara a quick kiss on the tip of her nose, then snaked a hand down beneath the covers to grab her backside and give a cheeky squeeze, which made Tara jump slightly, and press herself into Willow's embrace.

"Ah-ha," Tara said, regaining her composure, "this is a 'tease Tara' day, is it?"

"Good. I like those days." Tara slid elegantly to her feet off the side of the bed, catching Willow's hand as it left her waist. She bent down to give it a kiss, then stood upright and turned to the dresser, as Willow sat up on the bed behind her.

As usual the fire had petered out sometime during the night, and there was a mild chill in the air, a hint of the approaching winter in spite of the bright sunlight visible through the window, and streaming in on the opposite side of the room. Tara opened a drawer, intending to wear one of the robes that had been provided for them with the room, then paused as the corner of a garment from her own clothes caught her eye.

'What'll keep me warm better,' she thought to herself with a grin, 'a long, thick robe, or my embarrassingly short black robe and Willow staring at me? No contest there.' She slipped the robe over her shoulders and tied the sash around her waist, deliberately hitching the waist up a little, so that the hem only just reached her thighs. 'As if it's not revealing enough already,' she smiled, 'Tara, you are shameless.'

She forced herself not to look towards the bed as she padded around the room, busying herself replacing the candles that had burned down during the night with new ones, but she could feel Willow's eyes following her every move. She exaggerated the sway of her hips a little, and made a point of leaning forward, rather than simply reaching down, to get the candles mounted low on the wall above the writing desk, and around the dining table. The silk against her upper thighs and bottom, pulling tight as she leant over, was like a caress, but it was the entirely imagined caress of Willow's gaze that went straight to Tara's core, and added to the moist bounty gathering between her legs.

'Oh goddess,' Tara thought to herself, 'she's got to give in soon, doesn't she? I can feel her watching me...oh wow, since when does walking feel this sexy? I can't take this, a few more seconds and I'll be all over her...come on baby, come get me...'

Her patience was rewarded as, when she stopped to unload the spent candle ends in the metal bin by the door, she heard Willow's soft footsteps, first barely audible on the carpet, then clearer, on the wood. Her arms went around her waist, and Tara braced herself against the doorframe as Willow pressed the full length of her naked form against her back, with only the silk separating them. She nuzzled in Tara's hair, kissing her neck as she leaned over her shoulder.

"Have I told you today," she asked, "that you're the sexiest being ever to walk the earth?"

"Where did you get this, anyway?" Willow asked, running a fingertip along the inside of the neck of Tara's robe.

"Hmm? Oh...a couple of years ago, just on a whim, really. This sort of thing is... ahhh," she sighed, as Willow wrapped an arm tightly around her waist and held her, "um...pretty standard...for sleepwear at home. It's only in midwinter that it gets really cold..."

"And the incredible sexiness?" Willow prompted. "Or is it just that all Amazon clothing is incredibly sexy? I'll believe that."

"Well...it's kind of funny to think back to," Tara admitted, "some of the girls I was training with would swap stories about boyfriends and girlfriends, and...well, the odd licentious detail here and there. I didn't really contribute much, but I listened in. And, it sounded...comforting, in a way, you know? To have someone think you're sexy, desirable. I got this just to wear at home, sometimes – only in my room, I was too shy to be seen in it by anyone – just because it made me feel sexy." She grinned at the memories. "I liked just wearing it, while I was reading, or doing stretches, or just doing nothing much. I guess it let me imagine someone thinking I was sexy."

"Then it's a very prescient garment," Willow said earnestly, "you are sexy." She gently turned Tara around, and stepped forward into her embrace. Lowering herself slightly, she straddled the thigh between her legs, and Tara grinned at the heat and moisture she felt pressed against her skin.

"That," Willow said, "is from watching you." Tara shook her head in wonder, then leaned down to kiss her. Willow moaned quietly as Tara's mouth caught hers, and brought her hands up between them, cupping Tara's breasts.

"Mmm," she murmured, rubbing her thumbs over Tara's stiff nipples, clearly visible as little peaks beneath the silk. "So when you wore this at home, did it turn you on like this as well?"

"Yeah. I can feel your eyes on me." Tara paused in gracing Willow's cheek and jaw with kissed and looked into her eyes. "When you watch me, I...I can feel it. All over, like lying in a bath full of hot water. Touching me everywhere, all at once." Her voice fell to a sultry whisper, as the right words came to her. "When you look at me...your gaze enters me. Parts my folds...delves inside, deep...touches all the secret places that belong only to you. No-one else can even look at me like you do."

Willow was trembling with desire, and when Tara licked open her mouth and tasted her again she hugged her tight, and through their joined lips gave herself so readily that Tara had only to accept her to possess her.

"Goddess," she whispered against Willow's lips, "you're soaking..." The heat against her thigh was intense, the moisture copious enough to trickle across her skin, leaving trails that were hot against the morning's chill.

"Yeah," Willow murmured quickly, "what'cha gonna do about it?" She spared a second to give Tara a teasing grin, then returned herself to her questing mouth. Tara thrust her thigh forward, meeting Willow's rolling hips, making her gasp as her sex pressed against firm muscle.

"I'm going to make love to you," Tara purred, "right here, on this very spot..." One arm held Willow around her waist, while the other hand worked its way down between them, her fingertips sampling Willow's folds, then venturing closer, parting them, nestling in between.

"Right now," she said, straightening two fingers and driving into Willow's core as her other arm pulled her close.

"Gods!" Willow exclaimed. "Oh gods, oh my goddess..." Her hands flew to the back of Tara's head, holding her as she leaned in for a fiery, passionate kiss. Tara thrust again, deeper this time, and Willow's legs trembled. Feeling Tara take her weight with the arm around her, she leaned into her embrace and raised one leg, curling it around Tara's hips, pulling herself onto her thrusting fingers.

"So good," she whispered frantically, between bouts of kissing, "oh goddess so good, that's it, oh that's it, right there, yes!" Tara's outstretched fingers were finding their mark perfectly, sending shocks of excitement and need through her, while her thumb slid through her slick folds, brushing against her clit with every forward stroke her hand made.

Willow realized her meaning as the grip around her waist tightened, and she leant cautiously back, trying to control her body despite the shuddering spasms running through her. Tara drew back her fingers, added a third fingertip to those partway inside Willow, and made sure of her grip around her waist as she lifted her other leg, crossing her ankles behind Tara's back, gripping her waist with her thighs. Her own weight drove her down onto Tara's fingers, as deep as could be, and she let her head fall back and let out a delighted squeal at the sensation of being filled with her lover, at opening her core to her and receiving in return the most exquisite pleasure as Tara's fingers and thumb went to work, inside and out, stroking, pressing, rubbing and circling, teasing and fulfilling.

"Oh Tara," Willow moaned, heaving her hips against her, "oh Tara, that's so, so, so, oh, oh goddess, oh goddess yes, yes! Yes!" With a final abandoned yell she gripped Tara's shoulders, looked up at her as her body convulsed, whispered silent words of love into Tara's gaze as her core clenched and released.

"Oh goddess," she shuddered, gingerly loosening the grip her legs had around Tara's body. Tara supported her until her feet were firmly back on the ground, her soaked fingers drawing a trail of moisture from the apex of Willow's thighs to her hip as she gently withdrew and held her.

"Wow," Willow whispered, "oh, wow...you could tell those girls back in your warrior school a thing or two about sexy...that was...that was-"

"Hmm?" Tara asked gently, kissing Willow's neck and shoulder as she inhaled the scent of her hair.

"Primal," Willow finally gasped, "like, like the ocean, just...just pure, and powerful. Oh my gods I love you."

"I know," Tara replied, "that's pure, and powerful." Willow laughed contentedly, pure joy, and turned her head to meet Tara's lips.

"You don't hold back," she whispered in between kisses, "I love that...I love everything about you."

"Darned right," Willow agreed, "when you take me, baby, I'm well and truly taken... it's amazing."

"Mmm," Willow purred as Tara tenderly squeezed her waist, "so, how about that shower? I promise Willowy goodness."

"Sold," Tara chuckled, keeping hold of Willow's hand as they parted and moved toward the bathroom.

"Yeah," she said, "yeah, I am...I realized something I'd kind of figured out part-way, in the back of my mind, but I don't think I'd ever really thought it to myself until just now when I was sitting up in bed watching you. And I guess last night was part of it as well, when you took care of me, and made me feel safe in spite of everything that'd happened... you said everything right, and it wasn't just because you were trying to say the right things, it was...it was because you love me."

"I realized it doesn't matter what might happen," Willow went on, giving Tara's hand an affectionate squeeze, her thumb caressing the back, "whatever fate does, it's not up to us, and anything we can't control, well, we can't control. But what is up to us is, is us... how we live our lives, and I realized that that's where we win, where, where fate can't touch us. Every moment we have, is ours, whether it's a moment where we change the future and defy destiny and everything, or, or whether it's just like this, just being together, and being in love and enjoying it."

She and Tara sat on the bench by the tub, and Tara gave her full attention, sensing the import of Willow's words.

"That's what I realized," Willow went on, "that what we have is worth everything, and worth risking everything for, because the moments we have together are ours, and no-one can take them away from us. That I, we, we can live each day and fill it with love, and share it together, not because we're worried it might end, or what might happen next, but just...just because we can. Treasure each moment, not out of fear of losing them, but because..." she fixed Tara with a stare that was full of unwavering devotion, "because every moment with you is a treasure."

Tara returned her stare with equal devotion, lifting her hand to tenderly stroke Willow's cheek.

"For me too," she whispered, leaning in to kiss her. Their mouths opened, sampled each other – there was nothing hurried, and though Tara felt the caress of Willow's lips go straight to her heart and core, and from her lover's trembling knew she was having the same effect, she knew also that their passion would be all the sweeter for being prolonged.

"Love you," Willow echoed. She leaned back to her for a moment, just long enough to give a teasing nibble to her lower lip, then stood and took one of the thick bathrobes from the wall.

"I'll go order breakfast," she offered, "give you a bit of bathroom private time." Tara nodded, and reached out to tie the sash around Willow's waist as she pulled the robe on.

"Just how I like my showers," Willow grinned, "hot, steamy, and full of Amazon."

Tara swayed out of the bathroom, smiling to herself and idly playing with the sash on her robe. Willow had been more than attentive during their shower – she had take it upon herself to bathe Tara, and every inch of her skin, without exception, was now tingling with the memory of Willow's hands lovingly caressing her. Willow had teased her mercilessly throughout, and Tara was sure, judging by the looks she had noticed from her partner as she had dried herself, that she had plenty more in store.

"Be out in a minute," she had promised, with a gleeful sparkle in her eyes, when Tara had offered to answer a knock at the door.

Jesye did a double-take when Tara opened the door, but to her credit recovered and gave no further hint that Tara's attire was more alluring than usual as she brought in the breakfast tray, and accepted her thanks with a polite nod. Tara was sure she noticed a knowing smirk on the servant's lips as she closed the door on her way out, and stole a glance at herself in the mirror – she giggled at the sight of the blushing, scantily-clad Amazon looking back at her.

"What's funny?" Willow asked, appearing in the bathroom door behind her in a long white robe.

"I think I surprised Jesye," Tara grinned, gesturing at her own robe. Willow laughed lightly.

"Naughty Amazon," she jovially scolded, "giving the servants ideas. Next thing you know she'll be wearing the shortest skirt she can find whenever Zan's around, and he'll never be able to concentrate on his spells then." She sidled up to Tara and put an arm around her, plucking a strawberry off the tray and offering it to Tara's lips.

"And you call yourself shy," she went on, as Tara smiled and bit the tip off the fruit, licking the juice from her lips.

"Yeah, sure," Willow chuckled, biting a tiny piece off the strawberry for herself, "so, about that time you stripped naked and made love to me under a table in a busy marketplace...?"

"Oh, that," Tara said, as if it was a momentary aberration, "well, you know how it is..."

"Uh-huh," Willow grinned knowingly, "I bet you're just putting it on because you know it excites me. To know there's a wild, passionate lover underneath that shy exterior."

"Or maybe I'm a shy girl who's wild and passionate because you excite me," Tara countered.

"I'm hungry," Willow said with a mischievous grin, "and I know exactly what I'm going to eat." She untied the sash around Tara's waist and slipped it free of the robe's loops. Staying close to Tara, their bodies brushing together, she slipped behind her and raised the sash to her face, covering her eyes with a little, questioning "Hmm?"

"Mmm," Tara murmured, letting her know it was all right. She felt Willow tie the blindfold, loose but secure enough, then sensed her stand back. 'Admiring her handiwork,' she thought gleefully. Then she was close again, and her lips brushed against Tara's for a moment.

"You like?" Willow whispered – giving her every chance to gracefully change her mind, Tara realized.

"You'd be amazed," she purred in reply, "how heightened the other senses become, when you can't rely on sight."

"Oh?" She could hear the grin she knew was quirking up the corners of Willow's mouth. "How heightened is that?" A flick of Willow's tongue on her lips, then she moved, nudged aside the robe, which had fallen half-open across Tara's chest, and her tongue was on her nipple instead. Tara wanted to answer, but could only manage an aroused whimper as Willow skillfully teased her nipples, moving left and right, back and forth, licking each to attention, and sending waves of pleasure coruscating from the little nubs deep into her body.

"I think you like my tongue," Willow murmured happily. Tara nodded, gasping for breath as her heart hammered in her chest. "Thought so," Willow went on, "lips, nipples... breasts..." She paused for a moment, licking Tara's cleavage thoroughly. "Stomach," her insatiable tongue danced across Tara's skin, dipping briefly into her navel in passing. Then the touches ceased, Tara felt Willow stand back, and she stood there, chest heaving, shuddering with arousal, desperate.

"All sorts of places you like my tongue," Willow commented, "but...I think there's somewhere you really want me...somewhere special you want- you need to feel me lick you. Isn't there?"

"Show me," Willow whispered, "show me where you want me to taste." Tara felt Willow briefly touch her hand, and extended her trembling fingers, bringing them hesitantly to the apex of her legs.

"Here," she sighed, gingerly touching her clit – even that slight, momentary contact made her body plead for more, such that it was willpower alone that let her pull back her fingers. 'She's touching herself,' she realized, all her senses fixed on Willow, 'her scent...watching me, and touching herself, oh goddess...'

'Oh goddess,' Tara thought desperately, 'oh my Willow goddess, don't you know what you're doing to me? How tortuous it is to feel my fingers there, and have to pull back?' Her fingertips brushed, as gently as she could, against the folds of her sex, gathering some of the copious moisture gracing her.

"Here," she said in a whisper, trying with all her might to ignore her body's pleas for immediate satisfaction. She felt a tremor in her senses, a slight brush of air against her as Willow moved her arm, and then caught a hint of her scent, closer. 'Tasting herself,' she realized, 'oh goddess, oh please baby, let me taste you, anything for you...'

'She knows,' Tara decided giddily, 'she knows exactly what's happening inside me, she knows what I'm feeling...I'm torturing myself for her, tormenting myself... she knows, she's wet...' With only her determination to please Willow keeping her from falling to her knees and ravaging herself, she lowered her hand, until her fingertip rested in her entrance, and then, very deliberately, very slowly, finding a perverse pleasure in denying herself any more, drove it to the hilt within herself.

"H...h-here," she gasped, barely keeping her balance on legs that suddenly seemed to be made of jelly. Willow's arms were around her in an instant, holding her steady, holding her close, securely but not for an instant breaking the aura she had cast over her.

"Good, baby," she whispered in Tara's ear, "so good...that was difficult, wasn't it? You need, don't you baby? So much...but you did it, for me..."

"Yes," Tara nodded, her breathing deep and rapid. Willow touched her arm gently, signaling her to withdraw from herself, and with a shudder that almost made her stumble, she drew her finger, now soaked, from her sex.

"May I?" Willow asked. Tara lifted her hand, and felt Willow lean forwards to take the digit into her mouth as soon as possible, where she lavished the attention of her tongue on it, licking and sucking as it if were the sole object of her desire. At the same time Tara scented Willow, felt her fingertip touch her lips, and eagerly accepted the offered finger, satisfying a hunger far deeper than mere physical need as she devoured the sweet juices from it.

"I promise baby," Willow purred once she released Tara's finger, and withdrew her own, "you'll get everything you want...here," her finger caressed Tara's clit briefly, drawing a deep moan from her, "here," lower, between her nether lips, teasing, "and here," she gifted Tara with a momentary venture into her passage, the penetration brief and shallow, but promising so much more. That tiny caress made Tara cling to Willow, all composure deserting her, leaving her sobbing with arousal.

"Your body's so hungry," Willow cooed, "hmm, can't have you falling over...you need something to hold onto," her tongue teased Tara's earlobe, and her next words came hot and breathy, whispered, "while I eat you up." She let Tara steady herself, then led her by the hand to where Tara knew the doors to the balcony were. Tara hesitated as she heard the doors open, and the breeze from outside flutter the edges of her short robe.

"We're high up," Willow said reassuringly, "there's no towers nearby, no-one'll see... you don't have to." The last was said so kindly, so compassionately, without even the slightest hint of reproach or disappointment, that Tara's heart swelled with love. She had given Willow's hand a gentle squeeze and taken a step forward even before she remembered, from when she had glanced out on the balcony previously, that Willow was quite right – they would be tiny specks to anyone looking up from even the nearest vantage point.

The morning sun was warm on her face, her arms and legs, and where it snuck in the open from of Tara's robe, completely banishing the chill from the gentle breeze sweeping across the city's rooftops. Her robe fluttered again as the wind caught it and tugged at it.

"Make sure that doesn't blow away," Willow said, with a smile in her voice, "it looks too good for you to lose it."

"Better put it someplace safe, then," Tara said with a surge of boldness, the sunlight and the breeze, nature on her skin, putting her entirely at ease. Picturing Willow's appreciative stare in her mind, she casually shrugged the robe from her shoulders, caught it in one hand, and tossed it back behind her into the bedroom. Tilting her head towards where she knew Willow was standing, she stood tall, chin up, hands on her waist, hips provocatively forward, naked before her lover and the morning sun.

"You look...oh my goddess," Willow said in a hushed, awed voice. "Beautiful, proud...powerful...perfect..."

"I'll have to take your word for it," Tara grinned, touching a finger to her blindfold.

"Leave it," she said, "I like it...besides," she added, her tone completely devoid of humor, "I have to wear something..." Willow's laugh was music to her ears.

"Come here," Willow chuckled, leading her forward another step. Tara knew, from memory, that she was quite safe on the high balcony – the parapet, stone with wrought- iron topping it, was such that it would be impossible to fall over it, short of making a running vault. Willow halted her, and with a gentle hand on her back had her lean forwards. Guided by Willow, her outstretched arms found the parapet's topmost railing, her fingers closing around the smooth, strong iron.

Tara felt her crouch down beneath her, breaths of hot air welling up against her breasts, her stomach, her waist, lower. Willow's hands touched her thighs, then flattened, fingers spread, her arms against Tara's skin as she curled her forearms around her legs, holding her tightly as her lips neared their goal.

"I know," Tara sighed, anticipation building as she felt Willow's breath caress the curls of soaked hair on her mound, "I know exactly..." At the merest encouragement from Willow she moved her feet, spreading her legs wide, opening herself to her lover. She imagined how she appeared to Willow, naked, wanton, vulnerable, her whole body pleading to be touched, a wild animal to be tamed. Trickles of her juices drew paths down the insides of her thighs.

The touch of Willow's lips on her sex was like a bolt from the heavens, electrifying Tara, a revelation that what she had taken for need was just a pale imitation of what was now in her, yearning for satisfaction. She bent her knees, rolled her hips, pressed herself into Willow's willing mouth, her grip like iron on the railing, the muscles in her arms and legs flexing powerfully as she writhed in Willow's loving embrace of her center.

Willow gave her exactly what she so desperately needed – no preamble, no teasing now, but sensation heaped upon sensation, her lips and tongue everywhere on Tara's most intimate secret, devouring her. Ecstatic moans welled up in Tara's throat, entirely without volition, escaping as she drew deep, labored breaths that shuddered her whole body. Willow seemed to possess her more completely with every passing moment, her head tilted back, mouth open wide against her mound, tongue outstretched, within her.

"Oh yes!" Tara wailed, "Oh goddess yes! Yes baby, yes, yes, just like that baby, deeper, more, oh goddess..." Her mind was a whirl of pleasure as Willow satisfied every plea she voiced, her mouth fire over Tara's sex.

She felt, amid the haze of passion, Willow's hand moving, a finger touching her lips, bathing in her arousal. She couldn't help a surprised intake of breath when she felt the fingertip venture farther back, between her cheeks, brushing over the untested little delight hidden there. Willow paused, her mouth still working furiously, but her hand steady.

"Ahhh," Tara gasped, unable to form words, but when she thrust herself back, towards Willow's questioning touch, her invitation was clear enough. Slippery with the juice of Tara's own lust, Willow entered her easily, her single digit nestling within her, wriggling in its new playground, as she eagerly lapped up the river of arousal flooding from Tara into her mouth.

"Goddess!" Tara exclaimed, somehow finding speech again, "oh goddess! I'm coming! I'm coming baby! Oh goddess I'm coming, I'm coming, taste me baby, oh goddess taste me!" Willow blissfully complied, sparing not a single drop as she clung to Tara's bucking hips, swaying beneath her to keep her lips firmly spread beneath her core. Tara, hyper-aware of every sensation, felt Willow's free hand vanish from her thigh, and knew its destination as she felt Willow's own moans, humming against her skin, change from arousal to climax. Her channel gushed anew at the mere thought.

Slowly, with many a shuddering aftershock, the bounty of which Willow diligently gathered with the feather-soft caresses of her lips, Tara sank blissfully to the balcony floor, the smooth wood cool beneath her flushed, sweating skin. A hand bearing Willow's scent gently lifted the silk sash from her eyes, and the first thing Tara saw as she blinked in the sunlight was Willow smiling at her, her gaze carrying a message as clear as if it were written on a page – unfathomable gratitude, simply for allowing her to please her lover so. Tara gently cupped her face, and kissed her as softly and tenderly as she knew how.

When Willow and Tara finally sat down to breakfast, after a second, brief shower to freshen up, the tea was no longer piping hot, but neither minded. They sampled the fruits and sweetbread, glancing now and then at each other with knowing smiles.

"I was thinking I'd visit the university today," Willow said, buttering a slice of bread, "you know, meet the mages they've got working on the problem with Shadai, see if they've uncovered anything new. There might be some detail that turns out to be important, you never know. I can't really say 'hey, a necromancer warned me something nasty is going to happen,' but it won't seem odd if I ask around, just to keep up to date with whatever they've figured out so far."

"I don't have to be at the barracks until the afternoon, I'll come with you?" Willow grinned and nodded. "Do you still want to visit Amalee?"

"Well, I could drop by Brydan's house this morning, and catch up with you at the university. If they're not busy we could have lunch with them."

"That'd be good," Willow agreed, "how about this, I'll go up to Myrreon's tower and let Ocean know what's going on – not the specifics, just that we're worried something might be going to happen – and she can tell me who to talk to at the university, that'll save some time. And you can go check with Brydan at the same time, and we'll meet outside the university."

"Ocean? Maybe. She's an apprentice, but Myrreon's said she's very capable in her own right. I think if she were apprenticed to your average mage she'd have finished by now, it's just that Myrreon's got so much to teach her. And astronomy as a magic is pretty specialized, I've learned a bit about it, but really if you don't do it you don't know it – that's what they say, anyway. She might be able to see some sign I'd miss."

"Myrreon said she'd have all the information she needed, if anything happened while he was away. I'll make sure she knows everything that might be useful. Not that we know this is because of Shadai, but...well, it'd be a pretty big coincidence. And if it is something else, that we don't know anything of...there's no way to prepare for something you don't know about."

"Might as well prepare for what we can," Tara agreed. "I'll talk to the ranking officer at the barracks this afternoon, and see if I can get a look at the reports from their scouts down to the south. And anything that's happened to the north as well – you said Myrreon was called to examine something magical there?"

"Yeah," Willow said, "some evidence that the raiders had a mage on their side. He didn't give me all the details, just mentioned it in passing – I don't think it was demonic though. Then again, we haven't had the best luck with mortal mages either," she added with a wry smile. "I think if he suspected it might be something to do with us, he'd have told me. Still, best to be on the safe side."

"True. And they might have found something else, after they sent the messenger to summon Myrreon."

"They can move pretty fast," Tara noted, "I've seen the stables here, they've got proper warhorses, bred for generations. We don't use them at home, but we know about them – they can carry a man in full plate armor into battle, without suffering from the weight. So a scout, in light armor with no excess baggage, they'd barely notice it. The sergeant I work with said that, at a gentle pace, they could send a scout from here to Kingsport in six days. If it's an emergency, and the scout has remounts, faster." She raised an impressed eyebrow.

"They're powerful horses," Tara smiled. "Like I said we don't have them at home, but the islands are pretty small compared to Westmarch. Here, being able to get news to and from a battlefield that quickly could win a war. Anyway, it's possible there might be more news from the north, so I'll ask. I'm not sure exactly how much standing I have in the chain of command, technically I'm just an instructor, not a real officer, but I'll find out what I can. I wish Tryptin were around."

"He came by the barracks yesterday afternoon to let me know he'd be away for a few days – that diplomatic excursion he mentioned at the opera. Most of the emissaries are around the city somewhere, but I don't really know any of them well."

"He'll be back in a few days, we'll see what he has to say then," Tara said. "I don't think there'll be any problems with the officers at the barracks though."

Tara hurried up to the main gate of the university, spotting Willow from across the road, easily recognizable in her distinctive emerald battlegear. The university – the 'Royal College of Mages', as the carved stone above the gateway proclaimed – was not far from the barracks, and its main quadrangle rose up above the surrounding buildings like the walls of a keep, with only the tower behind it, a dizzying spire that compared well to the Palace's mage tower, rivaling it for dominance of the city skyline. The gates were wide open, and the guards posted at either side of the archway into the quad were clearly ceremonial, as they made no effort to check the tide of traffic in and out. In the brief time it took for her to cross the road, Tara saw apprentices with books bundled under both arms, scurrying along as if late for something; workmen carrying crates or bundles of tools, some heavy-set laborers pushing carts loaded with wood or sacks, others clearly craftsmen of the highest order, with young apprentices of their own following in their wake, carrying their scrolls and jeweled tool cases; an artist still in his painting smock, dappled with spots of color, carrying a blank canvas under one arm and talking excitedly with a man in long, flowing gray robes; a pair of mages, tall and proud, arrayed in robes of rich blue with gold and scarlet patterns stitched into them, looking for all the world exactly like great wizards from a book of fairy tales; the tail end of a sporting team, in mud-stained uniforms, talking and laughing as they returned to the quad from some nearby field; even a cat, a tall male with a headdress like a turban, carrying an odd globe made of steel rings bolted together, glancing now and then at a scholar beside him who was talking more or less to himself.

Willow was waiting in an alcove just inside the gate, leaning on her staff and idly watching the various passers-by. Her face lit up as she spied Tara coming towards her, and she hurried out to meet her in front of the gate.

"Hi," she grinned. Tara gave her a quick kiss, then took Willow's offered hand as they turned and went back through the gate.

"A few minutes," Willow said, "nothing much. Just watching the crowd, I think it must be just before the start of classes or something, there can't be this many people wandering around all the time. How's Brydan? Are we going to see Amalee?"

"I was lucky, I just got there as he was picking up something from the house," Tara said, "Joma's had their baby."

"She has?" Willow exclaimed. "Oh gods, that's wonderful! It is, isn't it? Is she-"

"She's fine, the baby's fine," Tara assured her, "it was early this morning, Brydan was there, he said the hospital has sleeping quarters, so the family can stay close, he and Amalee spent the night there, but he didn't end up getting any sleep."

"He said they'd like that, we'll meet them for lunch. Joma's still resting, but Brydan said they'd all go down to the hospital's garden and have lunch there, and he said we're welcome to join them. He said Amalee would love to see us. I got directions to the hospital, it's a little way south of here."

"That's so great," Willow smiled, "aw..." She grinned, and sniffed happily. "I'm just a big softy."

"Hmm? Oh," Willow said, glancing down at her attire, "Ocean suggested it, so I went back to our room and changed just before I came here. She said – well, signed, but I'm getting better at reading what she says – she said the academics are a bit, well, I guess cloistered is the word, so it'd be good if they could look at me and see 'sorceress' written in big letters, rather than just looking like your everyday non-magical girl."

"Good idea, magical girl," Tara agreed, "am I dressed okay?" She wore her usual light leather armor, though without any work to do before lunch she had left her weapons at the Palace.

"Sure," Willow said, "you look great. A sexy warrior woman," she grinned, "just the thing a sorceress should have."

Tara followed Willow around the university from office to office, talking as they went from one place to another but remaining silent while Willow spoke to the various mages she was directed to. The university was spectacular in its own way, a maze of ivy- clad cloisters, ornate old buildings and delicate spires, with dozens of tiny offices and workshops crowded together, all full of bizarre and arcane devices and magical experiments. As for the denizens, though – Tara didn't know whether it was just bad luck that they were sent to these particular offices, or something more widespread, but 'condescending' was a word that kept creeping into her mind while she listened to mage after mage lecture Willow on his findings concerning Shadai and the predicament of getting her banished from her ethereal plane.

"It's not really on purpose," Willow said, as they walked through a wood-paneled corridor, after listening to an old mage with a bristling red beard drone on about some esoteric aspect of ethereal planes that went right over Tara's head. "See, there's basically two types of mages. There's the ones who are apprenticed into the mage clans, study in libraries, learn huge five-syllable names for everything, and spend months researching some tiny aspect of something no-one's ever heard of, just because no-one's ever done it before. Then there's the ones who live in mud huts, or yurts, or whatever, and can only read and write a bit, and learn magic from the tribe's shaman, who learned it from the shaman before him, who learned it from the one before him, and so on. Academic and practical magic, if you like. The academic mages don't really think the practical mages are that bright, and the practical ones think the academics are...well, a pack of idiots who don't know what magic is really about."

"But you're one of the academic ones," Tara pointed out, "not that you underestimate natural magic, I know, but...to these people, you'd be one of their kind of mage, wouldn't you?" She paused and frowned. "It's not because you're a woman, is it?"

"No," Willow shook her head, "no...maybe a little, some of them, but not in the sense of an, an institutionalized opinion, no. No, see the thing is that the practical mages, the ones in the yurts, have this tendency – which really annoys the academics – to be really good within their particular realm of expertise. Usually battle magic, seeing as you're more often under threat from attackers in a yurt than a university. Most of these people haven't faced anything scarier than a hostile grants committee," she chuckled.

"Anyway, that sort of thing bothers your average academic mage, so he says to himself, 'okay,'" she adopted a comically formal, clipped accent, "'so these guys can hold off half an army, but I bet they don't know the proper names of the three hundred and thirty-three dimensional planes.' They get into the habit of thinking of battle magic as being, sort of, layman's magic, compared to theirs – like the difference between making a sculpture, and just hitting a rock with a hammer and chisel."

"Yeah," Willow went on, "we're as academic as they come, but we've spent our whole history putting all that academic skill into refining battle magic, to the point where an experienced veteran sorceress can take down a greater demon in seconds. Word gets around of that kind of power, so yeah, I think they're looking at me and thinking," her comic-academic accent came into play again, "'oh, a sorceress, just humor her, maybe she'll be able to learn real magic one day.'"

"I'm sorry," Tara said, walking closer alongside Willow and putting a comforting arm around her shoulders. She smiled gratefully at Tara.

"It's okay," she said, "I know it's just that they don't know better. The people who count are the ones like Myrreon, mages who've been around and seen the world for themselves. And you know, this actually isn't a drawback, aside from the attitude," she grinned, "the last two we've talked to deliberately explained the most complicated lines of research they were working on, to try to confuse me."

"Well, not every word," Willow admitted, "say what you like about them, these guys are on top of their game when it comes to theoretical magic. But I'm getting what I was hoping to get. Whatever the hell-bitch does, we'll be as ready as we can be for it."

The Professor of Applied Ethereality, when they managed to see him between classes, proved to be more accommodating, and willing to share his knowledge with Willow as a fellow scholar. He was an odd little man, bald and barely tall enough to come up to Tara's shoulder, with a pair of glasses on a delicate chain around his neck, though he never seemed to use them. He spoke in a series of clipped sentences, as if he was summarizing a longer version of his speech going on inside his head, and between his frequent and seemingly-random changes of subject, and his heavy use of technical terms Tara had never before encountered, even in her discussions on magic with Willow, she ended up nodding politely whenever he glanced at her, and hoping Willow was getting some of it. She wondered how his students ever managed to keep up.

"I got most of it," Willow said after they left the university, on their way to the Sisters of Grace hospital, where Joma was staying. "Well, some of it, and enough that I know what to look up later. He reminds me of some of the older sorceresses back home, the real specialists – you need years of experience before you can start learning from them."

"Yeah, pretty much. I'll go back this afternoon, there's a couple of other people Ocean said I should talk to, but he was the most important – he's the one she said would be in charge of tracking down Shadai and figuring out how to get rid of her. Based on what he told me, I'll be able to come up with a couple of cold spells that might be useful if things turn ugly. There's that benefit, cold is the best of the primal elements if you're trying to disrupt an ethereal transition. I won't be able to send her back to hell, but if she somehow tries to break out of her current hidey-hole, I'll have a better than average change of keeping her from coming here. Assuming whatever happens, we're in the middle of it. That does seem to be the trend," she added with a dry smile.

"Can't ask for better than that. You could really understand all that? What's a 'sub- ether wave bridge'?"

"No way," Willow said vehemently, though she tempered it with a smile. "He was just using a bunch of obscure terms, and plus he's a specialist, this kind of thing is his life's work. But you know what, you've got...you're wise, I really mean that."

"Yeah?" Tara said, flattered, and touched that Willow would think to reassure her, even though she certainly knew Tara wouldn't be upset if she missed the meaning of magic she had never been trained for.

"Yeah," Willow said firmly. "Ember once told me there's knowledge and wisdom. Knowledge you can teach yourself, but wisdom you can't, you have to let the world teach it to you. And it's not always easy to learn what the world teaches you – that's a gift. And you've got it. I really mean that."

The hospital wasn't far from the back gate of the university, and once Willow and Tara reached the nearest main road they saw it, an elegant three-storey structure of gray stone and marble columns, with a chapel beside it, obviously run by the same order of Sisters. The entry foyer was two storeys tall, with a pair of staircases, one coming down each side of the room, and a tall, beautiful statue of a robed goddess holding a book in one arm and cradling a child in the other. A young woman in a white habit was sitting at a desk off to one side of the statue, and – after a moment of surprise at seeing Willow in her sorceress garb – she directed them to a waiting room on the first floor, where a nurse in turn showed them to Joma's room.

"Tara! Willow!" Amalee leapt from her position beside her aunt's bed and threw her arms around both of them. They hugged her warmly, exchanging a smile over the top of her head before turning their attention to the room's other occupants.

"I've got a brother," Amalee proclaimed, taking each of them by the hand and leading them to the bed. Brydan, who was sitting beside his wife's bed with her hand in his, stood briefly to greet them, then returned his attention to Joma, stroking her hair. She looked a little tired, but otherwise well, and in her arms, nestled in a pale blue blanket, was a tiny baby, staring at her with wide, adoring eyes.

"William Taran," Brydan said proudly, as Willow and Tara leaned over, and Joma sat up.

"He's inquisitive," she said fondly, "he takes after his father. That, and he likes playing with my hair," she added wryly, as a tiny hand emerged from the blanket and grabbed a handful, tugging gently. Brydan chuckled.

"Pretty well," Willow added. "Mages and warriors have eventful lives, but all things considered...yeah," she smiled at Tara, "we're good." William Taran burbled happily, which distracted Willow completely. She hesitantly reached out a hand, and the baby took hold of her fingertip in his tiny fingers, waggling it back and forth with an expression of rapt fascination. Looking between the baby and Willow, Tara wondered if she had ever seen anything so cute in her entire life.

They made their way down to the space behind the hospital, a small expanse of carefully cultivated greenery with a large vegetable garden. Brydan never left Joma's side, supporting her as she walked, though she didn't seem to need his hand beneath her arm at all – she humored him, though, and Willow and Tara frequently exchanged a glance or a smile at seeing the affection between the couple. For the most part, though, their attention was occupied by Amalee, who talked almost non-stop about her classes at the school of the sciences. Geometry was fascinating, she said, which got a proud smile from Brydan.

He had brought food for lunch, and they sat and ate in the garden courtyard, with the tall hospital buildings keeping out the noise of the city around them, so that only the bubbling of the garden's ornamental fountain, and the occasional birdcall, disturbed the peace. Listening to Amalee talk, or Brydan and Joma when the young girl let them get a word in, warmed by the sunlight and the company of friends, and most of all by Willow beside her, Tara felt her suppressed worries over their future, and whatever might be in store, ebb away. When she happened to glance at Willow just as Willow turned to her, they shared a moment of clarity, and Tara knew Willow felt the same – enjoying the moment, treasuring what life offered, trusting their love against whatever fate had in store, good or bad.

Having reluctantly parted with Tara for the afternoon – after a tender, prolonged kiss that drew more than a couple of stares from passing students, despite herself and Tara being discreetly tucked away in a shady corner of the main quadrangle – Willow watched her head out of the main gate and turned her attention towards wringing the last drops of potentially-helpful information from the university's scholars.

It was as she was crossing the marble floor of the quadrangle's main hall that a young mage, a harried-looking man in the robes of a Vizjerei acolyte, hurried up to her with a book tucked beneath his arm.

"I thought so, I mean, you don't see many sorceresses around, but I thought I should ask-" He caught himself and started again. "Jaronymes Theel, librarian's assistant. My master heard you were in the university, and sent me to find you. You sent a request to us? A description of an artifact?"

"After a fashion," Theel said, looking slightly embarrassed for some reason, "one of our junior research assistants turned this up, I know it's nothing useful but it matched the description, so we decided we'd better let you know. Um, here?" He offered the book. "You can borrow that, if you want, I'll fill in the paperwork later. We'll keep looking, of course, if anything else turns up we'll send a messenger. Um...is that okay?"

"Yes, of course," Willow said, "thank you." Theel nodded and turned away, hurrying off somewhere else with the look of a good-natured man with too many tiny tasks to do. Willow smiled – faintly reminded of herself, in her book-worm days in the Zann Esu libraries, when she'd frequently been scurrying back and forth between archives searching for half a dozen rare books at once – and turned over the book in her hands.

"Huh?" she said out loud. The book was thick, leather-bound with thin, ornamental brass corners on the covers, and embossed in gold leaf was the title 'Tales of Heroes and Wizards'. Willow opened the book and read the title page, which confirmed her suspicion – it was an anthology of dozens fanciful fairy tales, the kind of thing that she had read when she was a young girl, albeit with a more expensive binding. But, when she checked the top of the bookmark sticking out of it pages, it showed there was no mistake – 'Willow, Zann Esu, Palace c/o Myrreon, Royal Mage – artifact search, gold disc,' and a serial number, presumably to look up the letter Myrreon had drafted and sent to the library after they had transmuted the medallion from the monastery, and ended up with the strange, functionless ring.

Willow opened the book at the bookmark, and frowned in confusion. One page was text, the middle of a story, but the facing page was an illustration, from a woodcut printed in three colors, black, red and blue. A wizard – in something like the Vizjerei's turinash 'spirit-robes', which tended to lend their colorful, symbol-adorned look to every illustration of a wizard in a children's story – was standing on a plain, in front of a huge tower, impossibly tall and massive. His arms were raised, and floating above his upturned palms was a circle. Willow peered at it – the woodcut was of high quality, and she could just make out the lines etched into the disc's surface, the different metals joined together, beneath a sheath of seamless gold flowing up from the bottom of the circle, half-covering it. Barring a stunning coincidence, it was intended to be the very disc that was now sitting at the bottom of one of her satchels, back in the bedroom.

"What the heck?" she muttered to herself, turning back the pages to find the title of the particular story. Other illustrations went past – a group of evil goblins, caricatures drawn by someone who had obviously never seen a carver, or similar creatures, and a noble-looking knight in stylized, impractical armor wielding a huge sword with its entire blade covered in mystical-looking runes that were actually nothing but crescents and stars arranged in patterns. It was fantasy, fiction, beyond belief – yet the ring had been too exact for Willow to dismiss.

Her fingers halted the fluttering pages as she saw a title in large, bold letters, and she opened the page.

"Hellebore?" Tara asked. "I-it's a plant, isn't it? Jenavria's husband Sothim used to have some in his garden, when I was young and they were taking care of me…"

She looked nervously at Willow, looking for any clues as to the cause of her anxiety. She had been on her way from the general staff offices to the armory when Willow had appeared, agitated and carrying a heavy book. They now sat on a bench to the side of the vacant training ground, Willow with the book open on her lap, glaring at the woodcut of the disc as if it were being deliberately unhelpful.

"N- yes," she corrected herself, "it's a plant – they used to think it cured madness, though I don't think it's used anymore – but that's not what the story is about. It's…at home, when you were young, did you have any fairy tales that were completely fictional, but everyone knew them anyway?"

"Huh? Um," Tara thought, brows furrowed. "There's these stories for very young children, with talking animals. Fiara the fox, Pela the parrot…children's stories."

"That's Hellebore," Willow said, "every apprentice mage knows it, but everyone knows it's not true – there's never been any evidence, and it's just…" She sighed, and looked at Tara, smiling slightly at her expression of confused concern.

"It might," Tara grinned, taking Willow's hand, which had been fidgeting on top of the open book, and stroking her palm soothingly.

"Okay," Willow said, "you remember what I told you about the Mage Wars? Horazon and Bartuc?" Tara nodded. "Okay…There's a story – and I just have to say again, there's no-one in the world who'd think it was any truer than your talking animals – there's a story that goes that Horazon had an apprentice. There's never been any evidence of him having an apprentice, even before the wars began, and a lot of the Vizjerei's records survived or were reconstructed, but that's how the story goes. So, Horazon had an apprentice, called Moac. When Horazon built his Arcane Sanctuary and started doing his experiments on demons, Moac decided he had become tainted, and left him. At first he went to Bartuc, but he saw Bartuc was even worse than Horazon and so he left the Vizjerei clan completely, and traveled far away from them, to prepare."

"More than that," Willow replied, "he believed that the angels had deserted the mortal plane, and that Horazon and Bartuc's corruption was the beginning of the end of everything. He thought that the war would envelop every clan and nation, and everyone in the world would eventually be reduced to vessels for demons, which they'd use to launch a final war on the High Heavens. So, the story goes, he fled far away from all the mage clans, to prepare a defense against the end of the world. He called it Hellebore – the more florid stories say he called it that because he believed the world was going mad, and it was the only thing that could save it.

"It was, supposedly – I can't believe I'm saying this like it could be real," Willow said suddenly, shaking her head and grinning in disbelief. Tara offered a supportive grin when she glanced at her.

"It was a tower," Willow resumed, "at the time, mages used towers as a way to focus their magic – like a lens focusing sunlight. Mage towers weren't ordinary buildings though, they had to be made out of specific types of stone, with wood and metal and crystal and all sorts of things built into their structure, all arranged in a certain way. Later they discovered ways of making the structures smaller, or casting minor spells before a large one to have the safe effect. The heart of the Arcane Sanctuary, when it was inhabiting the mortal plane, was supposed to be a tower made of pure marble, absolutely solid. Bartuc's fortress during the mage wars had a tower made of steel and coal, they say – once he died it was destroyed pretty vigorously, and no-one really took the time to make detailed notes on how it was put together.

"Hellebore was supposedly the greatest tower ever built, and completely unlike any other. None of the stories say how Moac learned how to build something like it, just that he did. And the heart of it was something that pretty much every researcher of magic will tell you is thoroughly impossible – Hellebore had the power to completely reflect any magic directed at it from outside, a perfect shield. Once the tower was complete nothing, not demons or the Prime Evils or angels, or possibly even the Power That Is herself, would be able to touch it, or whatever was inside."

"Complete invulnerability," Tara said, with a note of awe in her voice. "Invincibility?"

"Yeah," Willow agreed, "the ability to build a defense like that…nothing would be able to defeat you. And you could just stay inside, and cast whatever spells you wanted at anything outside…it's impossible to fight against. The stories go that Moac built Hellebore as the first fortress against hell, so that when the world collapsed Hellebore would remain free, and from there he could start reclaiming the rest, actually undo the end of the world."

"So this is Moac?" Tara asked, pointing at the luridly-colored mage in the woodcut.

"Yeah," Willow said, "the robes are a couple of centuries younger than him, and he was old Vizjerei, before they moved into the west, so probably his skin would've been much darker, but yeah, that's who it's meant to be. This is just a fairy tale…but there really aren't any versions of Hellebore that are any more reliable."

"I read a few pages on my way here," Willow explained, "the story says that the disc is a key Moac created, so that only he would be able to wield Hellebore's power. It says he was worried that Bartuc's spies knew what he was doing, so he took the heart of Hellebore, and turned it into a key – without it, the whole tower would be completely useless. According to the story, this," she pointed at the disc on the woodcut, "is the key."

"The key to the most awesome weapon in the history of the world is in our bedroom, at the bottom of one of my satchels," Willow said dryly.

"If it weren't for that damned disc," Willow muttered, then sighed. "All sense and reason says it's complete fiction. If a tower like Hellebore were built, if its shield worked…there's never been any evidence for it. Horazon and Bartuc fought out the Mage Wars, the Vizjerei nearly destroyed themselves, chaos reigned for a while…there was never any all-powerful mage working against the demons. And even if, for some reason, Moac really did build Hellebore, and just decided to sit out the Mage Wars rather than getting involved, you can't build a tower like that without people noticing. Aside from the fact that in all likelihood it would've had to be half a mile tall, and it's kind of hard to hide that much tower – on a purely theoretical level, the kind of power Hellebore was supposed to have, if it worked, would've shown up on the spectral planes like a lighthouse at night. Every mage within hundreds of miles, at least, would feel a, a hole in the world…I don't mean mages trained in detecting powers, I mean any mage at all – you know that ability you have, to sense things around you?" Tara nodded. "Well," Willow continued, "someone with a fraction of your skill would be able to feel a shield like Hellebore's in her sleep."

"Not a thing," Willow said, exasperated at the contradiction, "some mages, over the years, even got it into their heads to go looking for Hellebore, trained themselves in the most delicate detection spells, traveled all over Kehjistan and Aranoch and the western kingdoms – there wasn't even a dramatic 'and they were never heard from again,' they just found nothing and gave up. The most likely scenario – aside from this being all make- believe – is that if Moac did exist, he wanted to build Hellebore, but didn't know how. The shield theory is something people have considered now and then, but no one's ever had even the vaguest clue how to go about building it. According to all the theories on how magic works, it's impossible."

"I know," Willow replied miserably, "it shouldn't exist. Unless the story got it backwards, and Moac made the key, then the tower – but the key is supposed to be the heart of it, if the key is real, then he knew how to make the tower, shield and all. Would he have made the key and not the tower, if he had the power to do it?" Tara nodded thoughtfully.

"And the fact that the disc – the key – was hidden in one of dozens of medallions, and an evil mage took that medallion specifically…" she mused.

"Yup," Willow said flatly, "not an encouraging thought. Either the coincidences are really piling up, or he believed Hellebore was real. I want to go over the notes we made on the books he had in his room, I wonder if he might've been trying to transmute the medallion by magic alone, without a cube to do it for him."

"It's tricky," Willow shrugged, "for most mages, impossible – like trying to swim across the sea, rather than using a boat. But maybe, if you did everything exactly right, and got really lucky…But even then, there'd be no tower to use it in. You can't just hide a half-mile-tall mage tower, if Moac ever built the thing, we'd know…"

"There's an old story – Amazon story time, again," Tara interrupted herself with a wry grin, getting a snort of laughter from Willow, then a grateful smile.

"Making me laugh," Willow said airily, "in the middle of all these gloomy thoughts." She tilted her head to lightly kiss Tara's skin.

"The story goes," Tara went on, "that a wizard, long ago, built a chariot that could fly, so he could reach the heavens and meet the gods face to face, and discover the secrets of life. He prepared for his journey for years, perfecting the chariot and his magic, making sure everything was right, then one day he was ready. He got into his chariot and it lifted off the ground, and he soared high above the land, into the sky. And as he rose he saw the light of heaven ahead of him, but then…then he looked down." A faint smile touched Tara's lips. "He looked down, and saw the whole world laid out beneath him, the green plains, the deep blue oceans, white-peaked mountains, the vast jungles, the deserts…everything, all at once. And it was so beautiful that he turned around and took his chariot back down, and when he landed he took it apart, and never built it again, for he knew that, while he lived, the world was his home, and the reason we live on it," she lifted a hand to gently stroke Willow's hair, "is because this is where we can find happiness. Heaven isn't for the living."

"There is," Tara agreed, "and, sometimes we have to accept that. If the wizard had reached heaven, he'd have lost everything that could have truly given him joy."

"So…he realized his chariot was something mortals weren't meant to have," Willow concluded.

"What if Moac did built Hellebore," Tara suggested, "then realized what a terrible power it was, and took the key out of it so that it could never be used?" Willow gave this careful thought.

"Yeah," she said eventually, "if you suppose Hellebore existed, that does make sense…that explanation in the story, about Moac fearing Bartuc's spies, just doesn't hold, Moac would've been too powerful for spies to steal his secrets anyway…but then, there would still be a tower. Even without the key-"

"Defenseless. If it really is the heart of the tower, then its shield would be useless…but if it was destroyed the key is useless, it can't do anything on its own, so why would Shadai be looking for it?"

"Damn," Tara said, "it doesn't work either way. If Hellebore still exists someone would've found it, or if it was destroyed there'd be nothing to find…I don't suppose Shadai might be wrong? Might she think Hellebore exists, when actually it doesn't?"

"Powerful demons are masters of lies," Willow said grimly, "it's almost impossible to deceive them. Like trying to out-fence a master swordsman – you can beat them with other weapons, but they'll always win when it comes to swords. If Shadai really is looking for Hellebore, no matter how unlikely it is, my money's on there being something to find." She sighed. "Just not the tower…so what?"

They sat in silent contemplation for a while, Tara stroking Willow's hair, Willow resting on her shoulder, her hand idly tracing circles on Tara's thigh. After a few moments Tara frowned, as if turning over a thought in her mind and examining it from all angles.

"Willow," she said eventually, "a tower like Hellebore…it'd have been huge, right?"

"Massive," Willow replied, "people make jokes about mages and their towers – male mages, anyway – but there's some truth to it. If you want to increase the amount of magic a structure can harness, you either make it better, or you make it bigger. Both, if you're talking about the kind of power Hellebore was supposed to have."

"And they're built like normal buildings," Tara went on, "magical construction, but the same basic rules, right? Stairs, supporting columns, arches, that kind of thing?"

"Probably," Willow said, turning to look at Tara, interested in seeing where she was going with her line of thought, "I mean, it's possible to make a tower supported entirely by magic, but you wouldn't want to have too many spells going at once – better to just build it the traditional way, and only use magic when you have to. Hellebore would've been magically constructed, of course, to reach the size it must've been, but it probably would have been kind of traditional. Wider at the bottom than the top, staircases, supporting beams and columns, that kind of thing."

"Probably," Willow replied, "they usually…oh, I see!" she exclaimed. "What if the foundations still exist! Yeah, it's possible, some of the old towers that got destroyed in the wars were excavated, and their cellars were still intact, just sealed. The Vizjerei recovered a lot of the knowledge they'd lost during the fighting by studying the remains…oh hell. Oh that psychotic hell-bitch, that's it! She's looking for the foundations of Hellebore!"

"Where the key was hidden," Tara suggested, "where there was a lock, shaped like a ring, just like the key. Where Shadai was planning on having herself summoned."

"The architecture…" Willow said, thinking aloud, "Imperial style, that's what they would have used during the mage wars…the background magic, blanketing everything…the lock sealing off the lower levels…oh gods damn it!"

"What?" Tara was surprised at the bitterness in Willow's voice, almost as if she were blaming herself.

"I was right there! Me, trained for almost two-thirds of my life in magic, learned everything I could from the Zann Esu libraries, tutored by the best sorceress in the world…I walked right past it! I was looking down into the foundations of the most powerful mage tower ever built and I didn't even know it!"

"It's not your fault," Tara said, turning to face Willow, holding her shoulders gently, "no-one found it for centuries, remember? You said Ember had been there, in the monastery, and she didn't feel anything – she didn't even look underground. Probably everyone else who's seen down there thought the same thing you did, so it's not like there were any clues you missed." Willow stared at her for a moment, then relaxed.

"You're right," she admitted, "you're right…just- oh gods, I was that close…I can't help being a bit frustrated at that."

"Just so long as you don't take it out on yourself," Tara noted tenderly. Willow smiled adoringly at her.

"Gods you're amazing," she said, "no matter what, you take such good care of me…"

"Of course," Tara said, slightly bashful, "you're my Willow, remember? I'll always take care of you."

"I love you," Willow murmured, leaning in briefly to touch her lips to Tara's. "I love being your Willow."

"I know," Tara smiled, "I promise you always will be…just like I'll always be your Tara." They leant close for a moment, foreheads touching, each warmed by the other's presence.

"So what do we do?" Willow asked at last. She felt Tara take a deep breath, steeling herself.

"Well, look at it like this," Tara explained, "we could grab a horse and rush off to the monastery, but then what? We need to know more. I've asked for whatever information the city's scouts have collected about the monastery and the lands around it, the officers here have to check with the Duke's advisers, but they said that's just a formality given my position, and they'll deliver the reports to our room as soon as they're ready. So we'll know everything we can about what's out there, except for one thing – what's underneath the monastery. So, I think we should find out everything we can about Hellebore. The university's library must have more about it, mustn't they?"

"Nothing reliable," Willow frowned, "probably just some journals from eccentric mages who believed in it, and more fairy tales like this one." She patted the book on her lap.

"That's why you're the big advantage," Tara grinned, "that woodcut of the key confirms that there's some grains of truth in these stories – maybe there've been authentic descriptions, passed down as stories over time, maybe there used to be drawings of the tower, or parts of it," she shrugged and smiled wryly, "maybe after it happened Moac got drunk one night and told the whole story to a wandering bard, who knows? I'm willing to bet that somewhere in those books is a lot of information that could help us. We just have to sort through the fiction and find the facts, and that," she kissed Willow's cheek, "that's where you shine like no-one else in the world."

"Okay," Willow said, a resolute expression forming on her features, "okay…Ocean. She needs to know this – she knows everything Myrreon knows, which is everything I could tell him. And she'll know who we can talk to at the university."

"Always," Tara said quietly. Willow paused and put an arm around her waist, gently hugging her.

"You trust me," she repeated, "Ocean trusts me because Myrreon trusted me…aside from them, so far as anyone in this city knows I'm just some apprentice from halfway around the world. The mages working on locating and banishing Shadai from her ethereal plane would've been told it was Myrreon who spoke for the validity of the information they were given, not me – we agreed his word carried a lot more weight with the university, where he's known personally, than just the reputation of the Zann Esu. Without him here to back me up…" she gave a helpless shrug.

"We can't get the city's mages behind us with our word alone," Tara concluded. "What about the disc, the key? Would it help prove anything?"

"We'll see what Ocean thinks, but I'm not sure," Willow said warily, "I mean, on its own merits it's nothing special, just a bit of metal with an interesting inner composition. A decent mage could make something like it, given the metals to work with. Even with the similarity to the picture, it's…it's just so unlikely. I know, if I'd found something like this, without seeing where it came from, and knowing Shadai's mage was studying it, I'd probably think it was just a fake. A hoax, you know – they happen now and then." She paused, and let out a sigh.

"I really wish it was," she went on, "you know? Just something a mage made after reading the story, to…to sell to a rare artifact dealer, or something like that. And everything else it just coincidence…"

"Do you think it might be?" Tara asked. Willow thought, then shook her head sadly.

"Nope," she said firmly, "too much coincidence…a mage at the university might be skeptical, but…you were there. We saw the mage's room, his journal, we saw the underground…and I feel it, you know? I don't know why, but I just know. This is the real thing…"

"I think so too," Tara agreed, "I certainly don't think we should just do nothing, and hope for the best." She flashed Willow a lop-sided grin. "Solari used to tell her pupils that there's only so much good fortune in the world, and if you want it, the best thing to do is go out and get it."

"No, I've talked to the people I needed to talk to. I was just going to use the archery range until you finished at the university."

"Let's go there first," Willow said, standing up, "we'll get everything they've got on Hellebore – fairy tales, myths, legends, whatever there is – and then we can go back to the Palace, and read in Myrreon's workshop. If Ocean allows it, we'll use his library as well, there might be something there that the university doesn't have. He's the kind who collects odd, eccentric books from here and there."

"You must feel right at home working with him," Tara grinned, standing up and walking at Willow's side.

"He reminds me a bit of Ember," she said, "sort of like an older, more sedate version of her. I guess you could say she collects odd, eccentric experiences."

"Drat," Willow grinned, "just wait'll she finds out I've been spreading rumors about her."

"At least they're good rumors," Tara laughed. "I think I'd like her. Do you think we might meet her someday?"

"Certainly, eventually," Willow shrugged, "once I've visited everywhere I'm supposed to visit and learned everything I can, I go back to the Order to be given my colors as a sorceress. At the moment I'm still technically a student – sort of a 'student with honors', so far as the people here are concerned."

"I'd never go anywhere you couldn't," Willow said firmly, "not that I think there's many places in the world you couldn't go…heh," she chuckled to herself.

"I was just remembering," Willow explained, "you remember back in Kingsport, the morning after we met? When I woke up – you were still asleep – I guess in that case you wouldn't remember specifically – anyway, when I woke up I started thinking about you, just curious at first, kind of wondering what I thought of you, and before I knew it I was weighing up how to make a statement to the Zann Esu Council to have them give permission for you to be with me in the city."

"They'd let you," Willow said, "I mean, people are allowed to visit, so long as they're with a guide to look after them, but I was thinking if I went back and spent time there studying, whether you'd be allowed to come and go freely, to visit me, if you wanted…first morning. Kind of premature, huh?"

"Yeah, the part that was smitten from the moment I laid eyes on you," Willow replied. They nodded in acknowledgement of the guard posted at the barracks gate and turned down the street towards the university entrance.

"Anyway," Willow said again, "where were we? Oh, yeah…so, yes, one day I guess I'll go back to the Order, briefly, to 'graduate', and of course you can come with me. The Order doesn't really get involved with personal lives, just so long as it doesn't adversely affect the purity of our magic, which you don't. And then, I'm sure Ember will be there."

"Good," Tara nodded, "I'd like to meet her. The way you've talk about her, I know how close you are to her, which shows how much she cares about you. I'd like to meet the woman who took such good care of my Willow."

"I'll make sure you do," Willow promised. "You remind me of her, too, come to think of it."

"Oh yeah," Willow replied, "just like her…I know I can trust you with anything."

Librarian's assistant Theel dodged around the end of his desk, seeing Willow approaching with Tara behind her, and hurried to meet her halfway across the giant mosaic Seal of Sorcery, around which the university's library shelves stretched like a sunburst. She had the copy of Tales of Heroes and Wizards in her hand, and over her shoulder was slung an empty, voluminous bag she had bought at one of the handful of tiny shops clustered near the university gate which catered to students, full of satchels, blank journals and spellbooks, inks, pens, quills, lenses, geometric instruments and all manner of academic paraphernalia.

"I-is there a problem?" he asked nervously. "I checked with the junior who flagged that book for your attention, but he was quite certain that the specifications matched- "

"Oh," Theel said, relieved. "Oh?" he said again, a curious frown appearing once his anxiety had departed. "It was a book of myths, wasn't it? I mean…children's tales?"

"Yes, it was," Willow replied, "one of the stories concerned a, a project we're involved in. We'd like to continue our research."

"We?" Theel asked, glancing over Willow's shoulder at Tara, who still had her bow on her back. The guards at the gate had protested, politely, that weapons weren't allowed inside the grounds, except as authorized equipment – Tara had offered to drop it off at the Palace and hurry back, but Willow had intervened and successfully argued that the bow was a 'cultural artifact', which seemed permissible.

"My partner, Tara," Willow said, stepping aside to let Theel see her, "she's an Amazon specialist in prime elemental and holy magic."

"Ah!" Theel said, seemingly relieved to hear the warrior in his library was a fellow mage, "I'm sorry," he went on to Willow, "I took her for a bodyguard, you see…"

"Sorceresses don't need bodyguards," Willow replied politely, sharing an amused grin with Tara.

"No, so I'd heard," Theel said, half to himself, "um, a pleasure to meet you miss Tara…what was it you wanted?" he finished to Willow.

"Hellebore," she said, "myths, legends, fairy tales, bardic stories – the works." Theel opened his mouth to voice a question, then caught himself and turned towards one of the index shelves, beckoning for Willow and Tara to follow.

"Anything about Moac," Willow continued, keeping pace with him, "any fictional or semi-fictional accounts of the Mage Wars, relevant equivalent myths and legends from foreign sources…do you have a copy of Tawlikora's 'The Great Tower'?"

"I believe we do," Theel said, pulling out a long drawer from its shelf and flicking through the cards inside.

"She was a Zakarum priestess," Willow explained quietly to Tara, "she spent her last years searching for Hellebore. She never found it, but she left a detailed account of her search – traveling, and researching in every library she could get access to. One of my tutors in arcane lore once mentioned her scholarly technique was impeccable, apart from the fact that it was based on 'complete fiction'."

"There could be something valuable in it," Tara suggested. Willow nodded, and turned back to Theel.

"Folklore section, for the most part," he said, his voice steadier now than he was on familiar ground, "though the Tawlikora is in texts for students – I believe the clan scholars use is as an example for technique." Willow stifled a grin, and heard Tara chuckle softly beside her. "Will you be borrowing those, or reading them here?"

Theel gave Willow a handful of reference cards and made some notes on a pad he kept in his pocket, then called two junior assistants and set them to work, reciting codes and shelf numbers in a rapid-fire series of orders that sent them scurrying. Scarcely five minutes later Willow and Tara were loading almost two dozen books into their bag.

"Lucky we got a big bag," Tara noted, heaving a heavily bound 'Myths of the Early Vizjerei' onto the table. "Are we going to be able to carry all this?"

"Oh, sure," Willow said airily, "I'm an experienced book-hauler from way back. When I research something, it darn well gets researched." She gave Tara a grin. Between them they managed to get the bulging bag back to the Palace, though not without Tara taking it part of the way, to give Willow's protesting shoulder a rest.

They were surprised to see Lissa hurrying towards them across the Sunward Garden, half-way from the entrance hall to Myrreon's tower.

"Good afternoon Miss Willow, Miss Tara," she said, giving a quick bow, then gesturing at the bag over Tara's shoulder, "can I be of any help?"

"Can you go on ahead to the tower?" Willow asked Tara. "I'd like to grab a fresh book from our room – it's sort of a tradition, I always start a new book when I start researching something new."

"Okay," Tara nodded, gratefully sharing the bag's weight with Lissa, who took one handle while she held onto the other. Willow smiled at the attendant, half-turned towards the guest wing, then turned back and quickly kissed Tara on the lips. Smiling, she hurried off.

"How did you know we were back already?" Tara asked Lissa, who had politely looked the other way.

"Does every guest get looked after like this?" Tara asked, mildly amazed. "There aren't that many servants in the Palace, are there?"

"Oh, no Miss," Lissa explained, "but you've got special status, as an ambassador."

"I'm an ambassador?" Tara mused. "Well, yes, technically I suppose I am…Tryptin's done all the work, though, I'm not sure I feel like a proper ambassador."

"If I may say, Miss," Lissa ventured, "you're a fine ambassador for your people. If Amazons are all like you, I'd be pleased to have more of you visit."

"Thank you," Tara grinned, "that's very kind…you know, you've been very good to both of us, me and Willow. Very thoughtful, I want you to know I appreciate it, Willow as well."

"My pleasure Miss," Lissa said with a bashful smile, "when time comes for you to move on, I'll miss you."

"We'll be sure to look you up when we visit again," Tara promised. Lissa smiled warmly, looking genuinely pleased at the prospect.

Barely moments after Tara and Lissa had arrived at Myrreon's workshop and been let in by Ocean, the attendant staying only long enough to help Tara with the books, Willow arrived, slightly flushed from going up and down stairs at speed, with her writing case and a fresh journal in hand.

"Hi," she said to Tara, dropping the journal on the table Tara had put the book bag on. "Give me a minute?" she added to Ocean, her manner far more casual and friendly than when she had first met the strange-looking snake woman. She then paused, and looked properly at her.

"Um," she began, "the outfit…?" Ocean gave a quick grin, and made a sign. Tara, who had no way of understanding her replies short of getting her to write them down, hadn't commented on the woman's attire when she had arrived at the tower – instead of her usual robes, she was wearing a pair of thin, silky squares of black fabric, one tied around her hips as a skirt, the other across her chest, tied behind her neck and lower behind her back.

"What did she say?" Tara asked, as Willow undid the latch on her case and laid out her inks and quills.

"'For the stars'," Willow translated, "or at least, I think that's what she said…I'm getting better at her signs. She mentioned this morning that she'd be up all night tonight – some kind of astronomy, I guess."

"Maybe she's going to try to seduce a constellation?" Willow quipped. "I'll fill her in on what we know, and see about using Myrreon's library."

"I'll get started," Tara nodded, pulling Tales of Heroes and Wizards towards herself.

Tara awoke frightened, and it took her a moment to gather her thoughts and realize why. She had vague memories of her dreaming – images of home, of Willow, interspersed with towers and fairy-tale wizards and unlikely-looking knights in armor, which was no surprise given that she and Willow had worked well into the evening, poring over their borrowed collection of books, as well as those Ocean had looked up in Myrreon's library and brought, until dusk called her to the tower's roof to pursue her own work with the night sky. But the last thing she remembered from her dreams-

Willow, nestled in Tara's arms, stirred in her sleep, and mumbled something quiet and plaintive. Lifting her hand to stroke Willow's hair, Tara realized what she had felt, the same thing she felt now – sorrow, the need to comfort, to provide the love Willow needed to banish her bad dreams: above all else, the knowledge that something was not right. Now, awake, she knew how to soothe Willow, but in her dream she had felt helpless, weak, tiny against something great and heartless.

"I'm here baby," Tara cooed to her, trying not to be disturbed by the rising sense of anxiety – she told herself there was no reason for it, but something beyond reason was touching her mind, stirring fears.

"Tara," Willow said, louder, her voice frightened. Her head tossed sideways and her eyes flew open, sightless for a moment before she fixed on Tara, just visible in the light from the few candles that still burned in their bedroom.

"No," Willow mumbled, shaking her head. There was something in her stare that frightened Tara, an echo of the hopeless, desperate Willow she had found the day before, curled up on their bed with her tears drying on her cheeks. She couldn't help but be affected by the memory, the reminder, and she gently hugged Willow tighter, needing to feel the reassuring warmth of her embrace. Willow returned the hug, her arms pressing on Tara's back, holding her close.

"I…I felt-" Willow said haltingly. "It was like a dream," she said nervously after a pause, "more vivid than usual…no, it's nothing, probably from thinking about Shadai all day, I…I felt like I was back there, in the hospice. Where she was."

"What did you feel?" Tara asked carefully. Willow frowned in confusion, but seeing the sincerity in Tara's eyes, she took a breath, and spoke.

"Despair," she said, "I felt like…like I'd lost my way, and instead of doing good, of achieving anything, all I could do was wander, and never find myself again. Th-that was what it was like to be there, actually in her presence. I felt like I'd lost something that I could never get back – that I'd never be able to be truly content again." She sniffed quietly, and offered Tara a half-smile. "It was only when I met you," she admitted, "that I felt like I could be truly happy again."

"I felt it too," Tara said, her voice shaky. Willow stared at her, which gave her time to recover from the chill that had gone through her as she had heard Willow describe the exact feeling that had seeped into her dreams.

"That's…are you sure?" Willow asked eventually. "I-I don't mean…on, baby, you're frightened," she realized, hugging Tara close to her, stroking her back and her hair.

"I'm okay now," Tara said, though she was intensely grateful for Willow's comforting, "I just…it didn't feel like a dream."

"Tara," Willow whispered, "I-I'm worried…gods know I don't want to, to jump at shadows, or anything, but…I'm worried this isn't just coincidence."

"She's gaining power," Willow said in a tiny voice, "I think…I don't know how, I just…I'm worried she's moving, that something's coming, something's going to happen…I don't think we're safe." She sniffed again, then began crying, slowly sobbing, burying her face in Tara's hair.

"It's alright," Tara said automatically, "I'll make it alright, somehow…I promise…" Willow caught her breath, and looked up at Tara.

"I don't know what to do," she admitted. Tara pulled her a fraction closer, and gently kissed her forehead.

"There's a belief among Amazon warriors," she explained, "that the people who teach us, who mould us, guide us on our way, never leave us. There's a part of them inside us, in everything we learn from them, all the knowledge and wisdom they give us because they care about us – because they love us. If Ember were here, she'd be the first person we'd go to for help, right?"

"Well, then," Tara said with a tentative smile, "what would she say? What would she do?" Willow thought, then a grin touched her lips, and she let out a tiny laugh.

"She'd kick Shadai's butt," she chuckled wanly. "I don't know how, but somehow…if something threatened her, she'd take it on, head to head. Gods, Tara, I wish I could, but I can't banish a demon, I know she can defeat me…besides, I can't even get at her, she's locked away wherever she is…"

"Hellebore," Willow murmured to herself, "you mean…you mean go there? Get there before whoever she's got serving her?"

"Could we do it?" Tara asked. "What she's trying to gain, could we destroy it, or make it safe from her?"

"I…I guess," Willow said hesitantly, "if we got there while she was still trapped in the ether…But gods, it'd be dangerous, if she realized we were trying to stop her she'd do everything she could to-"

"I've got my bow and my spear," Tara said, "I've got all the skill and guile Solari could teach me, I've got the gods and goddesses of the Amazons giving me strength…" She gently stroked Willow's cheek. "And most important of all, I've got you."

"Yes," Tara nodded, "yes, if this is what we have to do, then this is what I'll do. I promise you Willow, I won't let her touch you. Not even if it means I have to go out there and destroy the catacombs myself."

"Tomorrow," Willow whispered, "we can plan tomorrow, prepare…both of us," she stressed. Tara nodded. "Hold me?" Willow asked quietly. Tara held her tight, caressing her and gently kissing her, soothing her body and spirit.

"I love you," she murmured, as she felt Willow relax, "I won't let go of you. Not ever."

Willow walked side by side with Tara up the stairways to Myrreon's tower, hand in hand. She hadn't really admitted to herself how upset her nightmare had made her until they had sat down to breakfast, and Tara had brought her chair around so she could sit beside Willow, knees touching under the table. That contact, not a comforting embrace or a lover's caress, but simply the touch of someone devoted to sharing her life, good and bad, reached Willow so deeply she was reminded how fortunate she was, and gently picked up Tara's hand and kissed it. Tara had smiled, showing the joy it gave her to fill any need Willow had, and from then on had made a point of staying in contact with her whenever possible – brushing up against her side, holding hands, trailing her fingers down her back – just to keep reminding her.

Aside from the brief moments when they would both stop and just smile at each other, they had been busy. Tara had gone over the army reports on the Kotram region, delivered the previous evening, and made a few notes, hoping to speak to one or two of the scouts in person during the day. The news was not good, but not the worst it could have been – according to the reports, which Tara said were those of well-trained, dedicated trackers, the region still had more than its fair share of demons. Carvers were mentioned often, as well as goat-men, wandering undead, and a worrying profusion of blood hawks, quill rats, black worms and other kinds of animals warped by the infection of demonic energy in the land. Tara noted, however, that several scouts had seen signs that there was little order among the demons and beasts. None had seen organized groups of any creature other than the omnipresent Carver tribes, certainly nothing like the clan of goat-men they had broken on their way to the river, and a fair number of demon carcasses had been found, evidence of fighting between the monsters when they chanced to meet each other. Willow, while listening and offering comments, had drawn up a shopping list of spells and equipment that would be useful. Some of the items she decided were worth taking were simple to find – common enchanted scrolls or spell components – but others were rare to some degree, and besides visiting Ocean again to tell her of their plans, Willow hoped she would be able to direct them to an importer whose prices wouldn't be too exorbitant.

She exchanged a puzzled glance with Tara as they climbed the final flight of stairs, hearing and feeling through the soles of their feet a dull rumbling noise, like an orderly avalanche, coming from the workshop. A messenger, who passed them heading downstairs, didn't seem to be in any state of alarm, though.

"Is that some kind of magic?" Tara asked, raising her voice as they neared the workshop door, and the rumbling became loud enough to drown out a normal speaking voice. Willow shrugged and knocked, then – seeing the door had been left ajar – pushed it open and led the way in.

The source of the sound turned out to be the huge orrery, the arms of which were thundering around their axes at frightening speed. For a moment Willow tensed, wondering if the machine had gone haywire and was on the verge of collapse, but then she spotted Ocean, frowning at a notebook but otherwise quite calm, standing off to one side of the room, clear of the whirling steel arms. She and Tara crossed to her, likewise keeping to the edges of the chamber.

"Hi!" Willow called as they neared. Ocean looked up, and, oddly, seemed relieved to see them. She raised a hand and opened her mouth towards the orrery, letting out a wavering hiss. The air around her hand rippled briefly, there was a shuddering clonk from somewhere inside the orrery's mechanism, and it began to slow down, finally coming to rest just as Willow and Tara reached her.

"Is it alright?" Willow asked, tilting her head towards the machine. Ocean signed, faster than usual, her hand flitting rapidly from one position to the next.

"She says she's worried," Willow translated for Tara, "she says...wait, sorry, what was that? Oh, she says the stars are wrong. The stars are wrong?" Ocean nodded, then went on. "She spent the night up on the roof...taking measurements? And something's not right with them. The...what's that one? Line up...alignment? The alignments aren't what they should be." Ocean stopped, and Willow glanced at Tara in confusion, then back at the serpentine apprentice.

"How can the alignments be wrong?" she asked. "I mean...the planets and stars justare, aren't they? We know the laws governing how they move, they can't suddenly change...can they?"

"According to the charts and devices," she translated Ocean's reply, "the stars are correct...their positions are correct. But there's something wrong in them...in them?" She hesitated. "They're in the right place, but they're not right? I don't understand..." Ocean looked thoughtful for a moment, then signed again.

"She says when she reads the stars," Willow said, "she...no instruments? She just feels them. What's that?" Ocean pulled up the sleeve of her robe and ran her hand down her forearm. "Skin? You feel the stars on your skin?"

"You're sensitive to them?" Tara asked. "An extra sense, like sight or hearing?" Ocean nodded.

"So you can just go up onto the roof at night and-" Ocean made a sign, and Willow paused. "What was that?" The apprentice mimed pulling off her robe. "Oh. Oh! Undress..." Willow glanced aside to find Tara watching her with an amused grin as a blush crept up her neck. She gave her a theatrical scowl and returned her attention to Ocean.

"So you can sense the meaning of the stars without any instruments?" she asked. Ocean nodded. "And the instruments say everything is okay, but you feel something wrong?" Again she nodded, then made a quick series of signs.

"Yes," Willow said grimly, "yes, we felt something wrong too. In a dream last night."

Ocean pointed quickly at both of them, then made the sign Tara recognized as indicating a question.

"What's that?" Willow asked. "Forward...return- you mean an echo?" Her shoulders slumped as she turned to Tara. "She thinks what she felt in the stars and our dreams are the same thing, a sort of echo of something that's going to happen. You think it's Shadai?" she asked Ocean, who nodded and signed quickly.

"Almost certainly," she said with a sigh. "Have you sent a message to the Duke about this?" Ocean made several signs, finishing with a frustrated glare.

"She's already spoken with the Duke about this," Willow told Tara, "he said he doesn't have the manpower to investigate the monastery region immediately. How long?" Ocean signed. "Two weeks," Willow reported glumly.

Tara glanced from Willow to Ocean, then let her gaze drift, settling sightlessly on the big orrery, now still and silent. Ocean looked to Willow, but she held up a hand, asking the apprentice to give Tara a moment with her thoughts. She watched as resolve hardened Tara's features, as uncertainty and anxiety gave way to determination.

"Could we have a moment?" Tara asked. Ocean nodded and went to tend to the orrery, beginning to undo the sealing latches on one of the panels on its base. Willow stayed by Tara's side, patiently waiting as she remained silent a moment longer.

"I mean, I know a bit of the army here," Tara went on, "General Murine, and the officers and enlisted men I've worked with. It's not an inefficient army, and I don't think they campaign for glory or conquest. I get that impression of the Duke as well, from what people have said about him. If they're busy to the north, then they're doing something that needs to be done. And I imagine, if Ocean told the Duke about this, he'd take it seriously. But still..." she sighed.

"I know," Willow nodded, "and you know me, I'm not at my best sitting and waiting. Heh," she gave a lop-sided grin, "some cold sorceress I am. We're supposed to be the patient ones, you know? That's the stereotype, anyway. It's the fire-wielders who rush in without a second thought where angels fear to fly."

"Could be," Willow shrugged. They shared a moment of silence, watching Ocean tinker with the massive machine.

"There's no way of knowing," Willow admitted, crossing her arms in frustration. "Intuition and instinct – even genuine magical premonition – they're never exact. We don't know what's out there, we don't know exactly what the danger is...it could be that the foundations beneath the monastery were damaged over the centuries, and there's nothing left that has real power. Or it could take months to decipher the magic in them, and begin to rebuild the tower. Plenty of time to send word to Kurast, and get a team of real sorceresses here."

"You're a real sorceress," Tara said gently. Willow paused, and then her lips curved into a grateful smile.

"Okay," she conceded, "but you know what I mean – trained, experienced battle mages. This isn't insecurity talking, but if it came down to a choice between me and Ember, or Prospera, or Symphony – no contest. I've still got a lot to learn."

"I know how you feel," Tara agreed softly, "if Solari were here...or Eponin – she's not the greatest warrior, but I'd say she's the wisest. But they're not here."

"Us," Tara added, "and what they taught us. Ember's talent and training, your Order's knowledge-"

"We'll just have to do the best we can," Tara finished, stroking the back of Willow's hand with her thumb. "Try to learn as much as we can, cover as many possibilities as we can see...but in the end, we're the ones who are here. We make the choice." She turned to Willow and took her other hand, holding both gently.

"You understand this better than I do," she said, "Hellebore, Shadai, magic – it's what you've trained for years to deal with. I can't make this choice," she paused, then offered a smile, "the choice I can make is to be with you, whichever path you choose. I know you trust me, so...so please, let me trust you the same. Don't think about the danger, just... just tell me what your heart tells you. Do we go?"

Willow stared into her eyes for a long time, so open to Tara's scrutiny that she felt she could almost see the whirlwind of thought in her mind, as she weighed what she knew, what she believed, the risks of every action or inaction she could imagine. She knew when Willow had made her decision – something in her changed, was made stronger, as she chose a path to follow and felt free to pursue it, with all her skill and intellect.

"We go," she said, her voice quiet but steady. Tara nodded once, then slowly drew Willow to her and hugged her, resting her head on her shoulder and breathing in the aroma of her freshly-washed hair.

Willow luxuriated in the embrace for a long moment, drawing strength from Tara's resolve, her boundless trust, even the gentle, loving strokes of Tara's fingers through her hair. For a moment her eyes met Ocean's across the workshop – the snake woman was watching them with an almost wistful smile, though when she noticed Willow's glance she turned away with a bashful expression that, had she not had scales, would surely have been accompanied by a blush. Willow smiled to herself and closed her eyes, a barely audible sigh welling up in her throat as Tara held her.

At some unspoken signal, each sensing the other had received what she needed from their embrace, they both lifted their heads and stepped back.

"We go," Tara echoed Willow's earlier decision, squeezing her hands for emphasis.

"Amazon training coming to the fore?" Willow asked with a grin. Tara chuckled, then shrugged.

"Might as well," she admitted, "alright then, our pride – you and me – has a task to achieve. When a pride goes into battle, on any kind of mission, they must know three things. Their own strengths and weaknesses; those of the enemy; exactly what they must do to achieve victory."

"Good thinking," Willow agreed, leading the way to one of the less-cluttered tables, where she and Tara sat next to each other. Willow found a blank piece of paper, then turned in her seat and gestured for Ocean to join them.

"Yes, we're going," she answered after Ocean signed a question. She nodded and signed again, hesitantly.

"She says should she come with us," Willow said, slightly surprised, turning to Tara, who stared at the apprentice, assessing her.

"You know what we encountered last time we went to the monastery," she said, "if you went by yourself, could you make it?" Ocean bit her lip momentarily, then dropped her gaze and shook her head. Willow and Tara shared a glance, then Willow leaned towards Ocean.

"I think you should stay here," she said kindly, "where we're going...Tara's a trained warrior, I'm a trained battle mage, even if we're both young it's something we're prepared for, as much as we can be. It wouldn't be easy for you...and there's so much you can do to help us here. This isn't just about us, it involves all of Duncraig, the Vizjerei, the university – here, you've got all of them at your fingertips. We'll be gone for a while, so if anything happens – more signs, new information, anything – you'll be the one who can tell people what's happening."

Ocean nodded, betraying a glum expression for a moment, then she set her jaw and sat down, taking a quill and paper of her own. She signed, one-handed, to Willow.

"That'd be best," Willow agreed, turning to Tara, "she'll record everything we plan, so she and the Duke can take us into account, if they need to take action while we're away."

"Good idea," Tara nodded, "well then...what are we trying to achieve? We have a demon trying to gain control of the remains of Hellebore. How do we stop her?"

"We can't attack Shadai," Willow said, making notes as she spoke, "so long as she's in the ethereal realm, there's no way to physically reach her, and my magic can't harm her either. The mages at the university – despite their attitude," she added with a sardonic grin, "are doing their best to reach and banish her from her ethereal plane. So long as she remains there, there's nothing we can do that will help their efforts."

"Then...well, the up side is that we can attack her then," Willow said with a forced smile, "the down side is that it'll be about the most difficult thing we could try to do. A banishing spell isn't an option. Am I right in thinking there's no Amazon magic equivalent of banishing?"

"And we know I can't banish her one-on-one. The spell would be a mental battle, and she's already defeated me – it'd be easier a second time, because she knows my mind from the first. Even putting aside my reluctance to try, it just wouldn't work. That leaves banishing the old-fashioned way."

"It depends," Willow admitted, "if she's newly-summoned...you remember I mentioned demons are weak just after they've manifested? It takes time for their energy to settle into the mortal form, so at first they're vulnerable to energetic disharmony – which is a fancy way of saying they're not as tough as they'd be otherwise. It's relative to how powerful the demon is. Something like Shadai...if we caught her within moments of being summoned..." she paused and frowned in thought.

"Perhaps," she said at last, "my ice, your fire and lightning. You can cast something like that lightning bolt you used to break the goat-men's herd-stone, again?"

"The power comes from my gods," Tara said, "it's essentially limitless, but a warrior can only call on so much. It depends on how sure she is of her cause, how pure her motives are, how focused she is on the task at hand. I think...against Shadai, I could probably manage a strike slightly more powerful." She glanced at Willow and gave a wry grin. "Given your history with her, I'd be very highly motivated." Willow returned her smile.

"There's that benefit to fighting demons," she agreed. "And I'll throw in all the ice I can manage. On the defensive that wouldn't count for much, but demons are always strongest when they attack – I doubt I could make a chill armor last any longer than last time. But if we were both to attack her together, at the same time..."

"I won't lie," Willow said grimly, "not a great chance. But if Shadai manifests, it's our only chance – once she overcomes the initial weakness, it'd take far more power than we have to stop her. And that's on her own – if she gains control of the Hellebore catacombs, and works out how to rebuild the tower...forget it. But if we catch her early, there's a chance." Tara looked intently at Willow.

"If we take that chance," she said, her voice gentle, "do you believe we'll manage?"

Willow returned her stare, captured by her eyes for a moment, then nodded. She lifted a hand and tapped her temple lightly.

"In here, it's a chance," she said. Then her hand covered her heart. "Here...I believe."

"Me too," Tara said softly. A movement from Ocean surprised her slightly – for a moment, she had been aware only of Willow – but she smiled as the apprentice gave a thumbs-up.

"That's if she manifests," Willow said, giving a nod in acknowledgement of Ocean's support. "Since she escaped from the hospice she's tried twice to be summoned, and failed both times. Admittedly Hydris was unlucky to be discovered doing his ritual, but the mage in the monastery had all the privacy and time he needed, and she couldn't bend him to her will enough to stop him taking his own life before summoning her. And even Hydris chose a bad moment to try to summon her, with two armed guards standing right behind him."

"Is that sort of...instability, something we could expect if she's found a new servant?" Tara wondered.

"Could be," Willow nodded, "I mean, obviously anyone who's dabbling in demonology isn't going to win an award for being well-adjusted to begin with, but it could be that there's something more to it. So far as I know, no demon has ever existed in an ethereal plane before, so it might be affecting her, interfering with her mind somehow, making it difficult for her to properly wield whatever power she still has there."

"Meaning it won't be easy for her to get herself summoned," Tara surmised, "so she may not manage it."

"At least, not yet," Willow agreed, "she's phenomenally powerful – if she did manifest, every mage within a hundred miles would feel it. Probably like the dream we had, but constant, and it wouldn't be just us." She paused and frowned. "I don't suppose any other mages have felt anything?" she asked Ocean, who shook her head.

"The university's envoy was with the Duke this morning when she told him about the stars," Willow translated her signing, "he didn't mention anything. Okay, so we can safely assume she's still lurking on her ethereal plane. But perhaps she's not planning on staying there, there has to be some reason we felt what we did. My bet is that she plans on getting herself summoned again, and the monastery will be the place she'll aim for."

"That's a possibility," Willow conceded, "but remember she'll be vulnerable when she's summoned – to us, only for a little while, but to the Duke's battle mages – and believe me, whatever they're doing up north, they'll scramble to deal with Shadai if she's discovered – to them, she's one big target. Her best hope to survive would be to gain power as quickly as possible, in a place where she won't be disturbed for as long as possible. That means she'll want to manifest in the monastery, or somewhere in the catacombs. That'll give her a head start on uncovering whatever secrets are in the ruins, and all the demons in the surrounding area will slow down any force sent to attack her."

"So that's one goal," Tara said, "if we find a mage under her control, stop him from summoning her. If there's no other way...?" She left the questioning hanging.

"We'll have to see what options we have, if the situation arises," Willow replied, "there may be other ways. Depending on how powerful the mage is, we may be able to subdue him and neutralize his powers. I don't want to take unnecessary risks, but if we get the drop on him – basically, if he's unconscious I can take the time to do a cold elemental spell to bind his power. And we can destroy whatever components he may have to help a summoning. But if it looks like the only way..." she hesitated, then sighed. "If there's no other way, I'll kill him."

"It's not something I want to do," Willow said, staring blankly at the table in front of her, "but if there's no other way..."

"We'll make sure to find another way if there is one," Tara said, taking her hand, "but if there isn't, this is something we may have to do."

"We're in this together," Tara cut her off, "whatever dark places we have to go into, I'm with you. Please don't ask me to let you do this alone."

Willow looked up at her, studied her gaze, then nodded once, squeezing her hand.

"Well, we won't know for sure until we're there," Willow said, relieved to be back onto a subject more palatable to her, "really, all we can decide now is that whatever Shadai wants, we stop her from getting it."

"They could be valuable," Willow explained, "even though the tower's gone, the foundations are still a part of it – if she controlled them, and mastered whatever magic is still in them, it could make her very powerful, more even than she is naturally. Even if there's not enough left to show how the original shield spell was created, she might get part-way there." She glanced at Ocean, who had gestured for her attention, then made a sign.

"Yeah," she agreed, "good point – there may be journals, or parts of a library. It wouldn't be unusual, in the underground parts of a structure that size. If Moac wrote anything that he didn't destroy later, or was destroyed with the tower, it'd be down there somewhere. Shadai may be hoping for that. In which case, we have to stop her getting that knowledge."

"How?" Tara asked. "Keep it from her, or destroy it?" Willow considered this for a moment.

"I'll admit I'm not really big on the idea of 'knowledge we were not meant to have'," she said, "as a Zann Esu, I'd say the best place for anything of real power we find down there – Moac's journal, for instance – would be in the Zann Esu vault libraries. No demon or their servant ever set foot in there, and there's already a lot they'd want, so I'd say it's not a foolish risk to think we could take a book and keep it from eventually falling into Shadai's claws. That said..." she let out a sigh, "...I'd definitely rather destroy whatever's there than let her have it. If, when we get there, it looks like we can't safely bring whatever we find back here, I'm willing to reduce the whole library to icy vapor."

"That's a last resort," Willow added quickly, "I'll send a letter to Kurast tonight, and another to Lut Gholein – that's slightly closer, and there's a Zann Esu embassy there – so we'll have sorceresses here in...say four weeks?" She looked to Ocean, who nodded. "Even if we find the complete plan for the Hellebore tower, I'll feel safe if they're in the hands of the Order."

"And anything we can't deliver safely?" Tara asked. "If there's too many books for us to carry? And the foundations themselves?"

"Destroy them," Willow said flatly, "we're agreed we can't afford to take our time here?" Both Tara and Ocean nodded. "Well," Willow grinned wryly, "that rules out leaving half a library to go back and pick up later."

"Can you destroy the catacombs?" Tara asked. "Not that I'm doubting your magic- "

"I know what you mean," Willow smiled, "it's a bit bigger than a goat-lord. Not in a straight-forward attack, no, but if we can get inside them I can enchant parts of the structure, and that'll let me cast magic directly into it once we're at a safe distance – miles away. I can handle a fair amount of structural weakening, but it may take as little as turning a few supporting pillars to ice, and the whole thing will cave in and demolish itself."

"There's our goals, then," Tara summed up, "prevent Shadai from being summoned, do our best to banish her if she is, and either take and hold or destroy anything that remains of Hellebore."

"Sounds good to me," Willow agreed. "I'll start mapping out as much of the catacombs as we saw – the lower levels that we saw from the balcony, I can remember them pretty well. We can add to that as we go. Then," she gave Tara a grin, "I'll do some damage to the funds the Order gave me for traveling expenses, and stock up on everything we might need. Can you point me to the best suppliers?" she asked Ocean, who signed a reply.

"Depends what's available," Willow said, "magic isn't really a production industry, so I'll just have to see what's in stock. But probably light spells, anything that can sense demons or danger, some extra rune stones if I can find them, and spell components to help with enchanting and collapsing the catacombs. Oh, I had a thought- can you use your fire magic to make an arrow light just as it hits its target, rather than mid-air?"

"Remember the Arreat ice crystal I tossed at the goat-lord, and you ignited just as it was right in front of him?" Willow grinned.

"Well, what if you had an arrow with the arrowhead made of that ice?" Willow suggested. "You fire it, use your magic to have it catch fire just as it hits, then-"

"I've still got a couple of crystals myself," Willow said, "but what I'll do is try to find someone who can sell me some more, and sculpt them with my own magic. That way we've both got some, if we need them."

"A rough shape will be alright," Tara said, "it doesn't have to be perfect, especially if we're underground, and at close quarters. How big would the blast be?"

"Okay, if we're careful we can use them without being caught in the blast ourselves. I'll go to the barracks and see what I can get from there. I should be allowed copies of whatever maps they have of the area, they'll be very detailed. And I'll see what I can arrange for transportation."

"Well, that's different," Willow grinned despite herself, "I'm trained for demons... okay, if we must, we must. Wait, what happens when we get to the monastery? We can't take a horse into the catacombs, and it'll be too dangerous to leave it outside-"

"A warhorse will be able to keep out of trouble," Tara said, "they're trained to defend themselves. And nothing will be able to catch one on open ground."

"Okay," Willow sighed. "I'll get started mapping what I can remember of the catacombs, and then start drafting a letter and a report for the Zann Esu."

"I need to find Galt," Tara said, pushing back her chair and standing, "he can be trusted with this. Can you make a copy of your report for Tryptin?" Willow nodded, standing too. Ocean remained seated, pulling out a fresh sheet of paper and beginning to write.

"I'll tell Galt what's going on in detail, between that and your report Tryptin will know everything that's going on."

"Plus he's still technically my superior," Tara pointed out with a smile, "if I'm going to go charging off into the wilderness, I should at least let him know why."

"I'll visit the barracks," Tara said, "see what maps I can get, and whether any of the officers can be of any use to us. A couple of extra quivers wouldn't go amiss either, they make good arrows here. Meet you for lunch?"

"You bet," Willow smiled, "I'll have time to get a start on shopping for supplies, so I'll meet you at midday. That tavern near the barracks? The food was good."

"I'll see you there," Tara promised. She glanced at Ocean, who was absorbed in her writing, then pulled Willow into her embrace and kissed her deeply. Willow's lips opened at once, giving herself to the kiss with relish, a quiet moan passing from her mouth into Tara's.

Tara, reluctantly, ended the kiss and stepped back, a satisfied smile tugging at the corners of her lips. Willow's tongue snuck out to lick her lips before she opened her eyes again.

At midday precisely – according to the ornate clock set into the tavern's façade – Tara spotted Willow crossing the street towards her. She met Tara's gaze and waved, waiting only as long as was necessary to allow a coach to go past before picking up her pace, jogging to Tara's side, leaning to kiss her even as she stood up from the outdoors table she had been waiting at.

"Mmm," she murmured, "I don't know if the food's going to taste that good now, compared to you." Tara grinned and offered her elbow, which Willow looped her arm through as they went inside. The tavern was less crowded than the last time they had visited, no doubt due to the lack of off-duty soldiers, with so many out of town. Willow, trusting Tara to pick something tasty for her, went to claim a table facing the street, while Tara got the innkeeper's attention and gave their orders.

"How did you go?" she asked as she sat opposite Willow, her legs stretching out to rub up against those opposite beneath the cozy little table for two.

"Pretty good," Willow replied, leaning on her elbows as she slipped off one of her low boots and stroked her bare foot up and down Tara's calf, "it looks like no-one's got any morphic crystals to spare at the moment, but that's not so bad, we can do without them. I've got Arreat ice, light and sensing scrolls, a couple of runes fixed to detect enchantments – traps, that sort of thing – oh, and Ocean called in a favor with a dealer she knows, and got us a pair of annulment charms." She produced a pair of carved wooden discs on thin leather straps, each roughly the size and shape of a coin, with intricate runes inscribed on both their faces.

"You wear it," Willow said, "necklace, bracelet, anklet, around your waist, however you like – so long as it's worn somehow it's in effect. They'll last about three days, they block magic being cast against the wearer. Not a lot, charms only have a relatively weak power, but every little bit helps."

"Better," Tara smiled, "he's going to allow my commission to apply in the field, for the duration of our journey. It seems they're keen to have someone take a closer look at the monastery, what with all the demon activity around there, but all their best scouts are up north."

"We get maps, equipment, a horse, all free of charge – I'll be acting as an official army scout, so the army pays for any supplies I need. That doesn't extend to magic," she shrugged, "but food, equipment, all covered."

"Great!" Willow grinned. "Don't worry about the magic, Ocean's put in a good word for me with some of the suppliers she knows, the Order's funds will cover what we need from them. So...does this mean you get paid?"

"Fifteen crowns a day," Tara nodded, "plus the worth of whatever information I bring back. There's a bounty on demons, too, but I think we can do without that – I don't really want to have to carry demon heads around with us as proof."

"Urk," Willow grimaced, "yeah...but still, not bad, not bad at all. I guess I can see how some people make a living doing this kind of thing."

"I'll pass," Tara chuckled, "I don't mind getting paid when we're going anyway, but I'm not looking to take this up full-time."

"No argument here," Willow grinned. "Hmm...I see you're finding other ways to indulge your adventurous spirit?" Tara had shed her boots, and was stroking her toes high up the back of Willow's calves.

"Uh-huh," Tara smiled, "no payment needed here...there are times when 'adventure' is its own reward."

"I've always found it very rewarding," Willow agreed. "So...wait, did you say 'horse', singular?"

"I had a look in the stables," Tara explained, continuing her idly caresses, "I picked out a horse. She's a big warhorse, used to men in plate armor – she'll carry both of us easily, and our packs. I thought you'd be happier that way than on a horse of your own."

"You thought right," Willow said with a relieved sigh, "so, two days hard riding, and I get to snuggle up to you the whole way? This trip is looking better all the time."

They paused for a moment as a serving boy appeared with two plates – pastries for Tara, and a mildly spicy stew for Willow – though beneath the table, safely out of sight, they continued to gently touch and tease throughout.

"So, this horse," Willow began as they began their meal, "she's a nice horse, right?"

"She's called Anji," Tara said, "she's very quiet and gentle. If you can spare the time, you should come by the stables, to say hello to her. Once you get used to her, I'm sure you'll adore her."

"Come with me? I've got some more shops to check out. And I'd like to see Gelt again."

"Yeah, I think so," she agreed, "but I think we should let him know what we're planning – maybe not every detail, but enough to be useful to him. I have no idea what abilities he has, or connections, but if Ember trusts him, maybe he, or someone he knows – his priesthood, if he's in contact with them – will be able to help, even if it's not directly. And then," she gave Tara a smile, "I'm going to make dinner for you."

"Well, we're going to be stuck with trail rations until we get back, so I thought I'd treat you to my vegetables and cream sauce while we've got the Palace kitchens at our disposal."

Knocking on the door to Gelt's first-floor rooms produced no result, but just as Willow turned to Tara, a confused frown furrowing her brow, the lady from the shop below appeared at the foot of the staircase.

"Hello dear, looking for Mister Gelt?" she asked. "Oh, and you've brought a friend! Hello."

"Hi," Tara said, slightly taken aback by the woman's boundless enthusiasm for something so mundane as a greeting.

"Hello, yes," Willow said, "I mean, yes, we're looking for Mister Gelt...is he out?"

"Went off this morning," the lady replied, "couldn't get a word of explanation out of him – he's a good tenant though, so I can't say as I mind if he keeps to himself. Some sort of druidic thing, is it? I imagine so."

"Uh, I guess," Willow hazarded, sparing Tara a glance – she nodded almost imperceptibly, so that Willow knew she had also noted Gelt's assumed identity as a druid.' Good choice,' Willow surmised privately, 'no-one knows much about druids or their ways, but they're generally given a bit of respect and not bothered too much.'

"He did say you might come round," the lady went on as they descended the stairs and followed her into her cramped shop, "left a letter for you, in fact – well, strange thing about that actually, he said to me you might have a woman with you, an Amazon – you are an Amazon, aren't you dear? I assumed, you see, what with the armor..."

"Yes," Tara said, after a slight pause to see if the woman was actually waiting for an answer, or just drawing breath.

"I thought so," she nodded to herself, "let's see, where did I put it? Ah, here it is!" She fished out a large brown envelope from a drawer in her sales desk, which was stuffed full of receipts and invoices, and handed it to Willow.

"I wondered why he said only if you were together," she frowned, "it's a bit strange, isn't it?"

"Yes, of course," the lady agreed, accepting this as an explanation in itself. She sat back down behind her desk and busied herself with her papers as Willow and Tara said their goodbyes and returned to the street outside.

"Only one way to find out," Willow shrugged, slipping a finger beneath the envelope's flap and opening it. She produced a folded note, then, feeling more weight in the envelope, tipped into her palm a pair of tiny white ornaments that had been inside it.

"What might you be?" she said to herself, poking the tiny objects with a fingertip. Tara took the note from her hand and opened it.

"'It takes a brave soul to make the future her own,'" she read, "'if you and your loved one have chosen to stand firm, perhaps you may have the courage to avert what I fear may come to pass. Take these, and both wear them, so that you need not fear the grave's touch.'"

"Charms," Willow muttered, "they're some kind of charms...I've never seen any like these before. But they must protect against tainted wounds – it makes sense," she lowered her voice, "a necromancer would know all about how to prevent that kind of sickness from taking hold."

"But why only give them to us if we're together?" Tara wondered. "If you'd decided to go on your own, after what you'd seen in your vision...to try to keep me out of danger..."

"He's taking a risk giving these to us," Willow guessed, "they're proof of what he is... I guess he thinks that, if we're together, our chances of succeeding are worth him taking this risk."

"Yeah, it is," Willow agreed as they set off, back towards the 'magic marketplace' near the university, "and I'm sure there's nothing else like these charms in the whole city...definitely valuable to have." She glanced at Tara beside her. "I'm glad I won't have to worry about every little scratch," she confessed, "one scare was enough."

With an air of formality Willow laid Tara's plate in front of her, then sat down with her own next to her. With no major events happening in the Palace the kitchens were quite sedate – a handful of servants and a pair of apprentices worked the ovens on the other side of the vast culinary workroom, but they were sufficiently distant that the table where Willow and Tara sat, tucked away beside one of the doors to the huge larders, was private enough for dinner – cozy even, with the warmth of the kitchen, and the appetizing smells wafting around.

Willow smiled as she watched Tara take a deep breath, sampling the aroma of her creation, then picked up her own fork and began the meal as Tara took the first bite.

"Mmm," she murmured approvingly, "mmm..." she swallowed, "lovely. You were right, cooking is like magic. You've got a talent for them both."

"Maybe you could teach me?" Tara offered. "If you're willing to put in some hard work, that is...I may not be the most promising student you could ask for." She gave a sheepish grin and took another bite.

"I'll give it my best shot," Willow smiled warmly, "I mean, we know you've got the creativity, it'd just be a matter of steering it in the right direction...I'd like that," she added. "I'd forgotten how relaxing this is for me."

"Well-timed," Tara observed. Willow nodded her agreement – despite the playful banter they had indulged in during the afternoon, neither could deny the tension they both felt was only increasing. Tara reached out and gently placed her hand over Willow's on the table.

"It'll be okay," she said softly, "I know you've got what it takes to do what we have to do. And I'll be with you, always. I love you Willow. No matter what happens, I won't let anything part us."

"I love you," Willow whispered. "I believe you. I can't help being nervous, but I- deep down, where it counts, I believe you. We'll make it."

Willow woke gently, from a troubled sleep where, nevertheless, she had been aware of the warmth surrounding her, protecting her. As the last shreds of sleep left her and her mind gathered itself, the warmth became Tara's arms, one tucked beneath the pillow, touching her shoulder on the far side, the other draped across her chest. Tara's fingertips leisurely stroked back and forth across her breast, so gently Willow barely noticed for a moment, until she realized the delightful sensation had to be coming from somewhere, and paid attention to where the hands touching her were. She opened her eyes, blinking away the sleep, and after a quick glance around the room, taking in the packed bags and readied clothes they had prepared the night before, turned her head over and found herself staring into Tara's eyes.

"And good morning to you," Willow grinned, though it came out a little slurred as her body insisted there was no need to be fully awake just yet. "Watching me sleep?"

"What smile?" Tara asked, choosing that moment to edge her fingers closer to Willow's nipple.

"Th-the one you just had," Willow explained, trying not to be distracted, "the one that was...like...a mother with a newborn child...or an angel seeing the world at peace..."

"Nah...that's just the best I can describe it...you're even more beautiful than that."

"What about that smile?" Tara asked, blushing and making no effort to hide from Willow how touched she was by her words.

"That was just..." Willow began, and paused. "That smile was just from watching me sleep?"

"It was," Tara nodded. Willow closed her eyes for a moment, then met Tara's gaze again; opened her mouth to speak, then shook her head gently and leaned over to kiss her. Tara eagerly accepted her lips, while her arm beneath Willow coaxed her into rolling over, so that she ended up on top of her, lips still locked together. Tara's hands leisurely roamed Willow's back, reveling in the smoothness of her skin, gently urging her on as she dove deeper into her mouth.

"Oooh," Tara sighed as Willow's kisses moved down her neck. Willow diligently made her way down over Tara's shoulders, bestowing a ceaseless stream of kisses, intermingled with gentle nips here and there, and proceeded up Tara's arm when she stretched expansively, reaching out to either side across the rumpled sheets. By the time Willow reached her hand, kissing her palm and lightly nibbling on her fingertips, Tara had reached across with her free hand to stroke her hair, giving Willow the chance to turn her head and press a kiss to that palm as well, proceeding back to her body along the other arm.

"Oh...goddess..." Tara gasped. Letting her body lie full length over Tara's hips and legs, Willow nuzzled into her breasts, stroking her cheeks across their soft expanse, licking and kissing, and nibbling on her nipples, which drew from her an undulating moan that was pure pleasure. Tara moved her hands to hold Willow's head, winding her fingers through her tangled crimson hair, encouraging her to taste to her heart's delight as she arched her back, offering herself to Willow's eager mouth. Moving from one peak to the other, back and forth, she accepted Tara's offer, giving in return teasing, fleeting licks before finally drawing each nipple into her mouth in turn and sucking it to an achingly hard point.

Tara couldn't help but let out a whimper as Willow's mouth left her peaks, hard and glistening, to the cool morning air. But the loss of contact was only momentary, to allow her to continue her journey downward. Tara's moans drew together, every exhale voicing her bliss, as Willow trailed kisses across her stomach, licking her navel, then down onto her hips. She writhed slowly as Willow lifted herself up, and smiled to herself, murmuring and cooing in delight, as she felt the lips move down her thigh, deliberately avoiding her weeping center, prolonging her pleasurable torment.

She spread her arms wide again, as Willow made her way back up her other leg, tilting her head back, gasping once and then giving her voice over to a series of moans that were melodic as they welled up from deep beneath her conscious mind. Willow smiled as she moved back up to Tara's lips, seeing her so content, so relaxed and full of pleasure, that she seemed to be in a waking dream, free of the trials and imperfections of the real world. Sensing Willow's regard, Tara opened her eyes and met her gaze.

"Willow-kisses," she murmured happily, "I love Willow-kisses..." She smiled radiantly, then giggled to herself, simply unable to contain her joy.

"You can have all the Willow-kisses you want," Willow whispered, making good on her promise at once by pressing her lips to Tara's throat, beneath her jaw, and finally up to her mouth.

"I know," Willow smiled widely, "I saved the best for last." She began to make her way downwards once more, only to be stopped in mid-caress by Tara's voice:

Smiling her understanding, Willow shifted her legs to one side, turning as she kissed her way over Tara's bosom and stomach. Carefully swinging one leg over Tara's upper body, planting her knees among the pillows, she felt Tara's guiding hands on her hips, and as she lowered her lips to Tara's sex, finally tasting the glistening scent that had been driving her wild through her teasing, she let her hips settle over Tara, and felt the touch of her tongue on her folds.

With Tara hungrily loving her, Willow found it difficult to think of anything but returning her attentions in kind, but somehow she found the presence of mind to prolong both their pleasure. When she felt Tara shudder beneath her, bracing herself for her climax, she would ease off, as much as she could bring herself to do – and she was dimly aware of Tara teasing her likewise higher, denying her immediate release in order to bring her to one much sweeter. In her mind, the battle of wills became not to keep her own body in check, but to resist the temptation to devour Tara outright, to bring her to orgasm in one swift, intense flurry of kissing and licking. The prospect of Tara's climax shone in Willow's mind like a glorious beacon, and Tara's equally skilful loving between her own thighs threatened to rob her of the ability to do anything but grasp it.

Nevertheless, when she finally relented and buried herself in Tara, tasting the juices gathered on her folds and working her tongue into her channel through and beyond the point of no return, she had the satisfaction of feeling Tara explode beneath her into no ordinary release, but one born of intense craving and expert guidance to the peak of her pleasure. She had only time for that thought before her own body gave in to Tara's lips and tongue, and brought forth its bounty of wet satisfaction for her to eagerly lap up. She collapsed, blissfully, on top of Tara, inundated in the scent and taste of her pleasure. It was a considerable effort of will for her to move, to turn back around and lie, facing the right way, against her lover's side, but it was worth it for the utterly satiated smile on Tara's glistening lips that she saw as she laid her head on the pillows next to her.

"I love you," Willow replied, snuggling closer to her. Tara's arms went around her, enveloping her.

"In bed?" Tara replied. She grinned and shook her head gently. "No...we have a job to do." Willow nodded her silent agreement.

"But in love?" Tara went on. "Yes...yes, we can stay like this forever. I intend to."

"Me too," Willow murmured, "me too...well," she sighed, patting the pillow with the hand not draped over Tara's waist, "let's go do this damned job of ours."

Willow hesitated as she saw Tara don her shoulder plate and begin to strap it into place. It was the one she had worn with her ceremonial armor before, polished bronze, and Willow had seen her the night before, carefully applying to it, and the matching greaves, a mixture of oil and powder that took away the shine and bright color, leaving them a dull, inconspicuous gray. But it hadn't registered in her mind until now that-

"What's up?" Tara asked, startling Willow. She realized her face had given away her thoughts, and smiled sheepishly.

"Sorry," she murmured, "just...that armor with that shoulder plate...it's," her voice dropped to a whisper, "i-it's what I saw you wearing...the vision..." The curiosity in Tara's gaze turned to understanding, and she glanced down at the familiar bronze plate, hesitantly reaching for the buckle holding its main strap tight.

"I didn't realize before," Willow went on, halting her, "that's all...with it gray like that, it looked kind of like the leather one, in the dark and with everything else going on."

"Wait," Willow said, taking a step closer to her. "Why this one?" Tara looked at her blankly, so she elaborated, "I mean, you went to the trouble of staining the metal last night, when you could've just used a leather shoulder pad, so...why this one?" Tara nodded her understanding.

"This is what I'd wear if I knew I would have to fight," she explained. "The colored leathers for the ceremonial armor are for show, but the shoulder plate, the greaves, the boots, they're the best I have – this is what I'd choose, knowing I'll have to fight. But there's really not that much difference, I could change-"

"No," Willow said, shaking her head, "no, I...I don't think which clothes we wear will decide what happens, or doesn't happen..." Her face firmed with resolve. "Wear this," she said, "it's the best armor for the job."

"Yeah," Willow said, "I'm sure. And I'll wear my battle gear. No compromises, right?"

"Right," Tara nodded. A mischievous smile appeared on her lips as Willow turned back to her preparations. "Though I still can't believe sorceresses actually fight in those outfits." Willow knew she was purposefully trying to brighten the mood, now that the decision had been made, and she was grateful for it.

"Oh yeah?" she grinned, turning back, "and this is purely for practical reasons?" She brushed aside the leather straps hanging from the back of Tara's belt and gave her bottom a squeeze – the back of her leather underwear was, to avoid becoming creased and uncomfortable during fighting, narrow all the way.

"Sure," Willow nodded, disbelief clear in her voice, "and it's pure coincidence that it shows off your gorgeous backside...ease of access, more like."

"Oh, don't get me wrong," Willow said, holding up her hands in acceptance, "ease of access suits me just fine."

"Likewise," Willow shot back. They shared a smile, then both leaned forward for a fleeting kiss.

While Tara finished putting on and adjusting her armor, Willow laid out her battle gear, freshly cleaned and pressed by the Palace laundry. She smiled to herself, feeling Tara's eyes on her as she slipped out of her morning robe and plain undergarments, and pulled on the emerald underwear that matched her fighting gear. Tara made an appreciative sound as she arched her back, fixing the catch on her bra.

"Oh, just they match your eyes," Tara said, pretending she hadn't been watching every move Willow had made. "And that green looks great against your skin...I like the way that bra holds you..." her voice drifted dreamily, "that's a sexy waist line, too...I don't suppose you'd turn around?"

"Don't you have arrows to bundle up, or something?" Willow laughed. Tara sat down at the table, pulled one of the quivers there onto her lap, and began pulling out bunches of arrows, fixing cords around their heads and shafts. Her hands worked with easy familiarity at the task, despite her eyes never once leaving Willow.

"You," Willow said, resuming her own task of getting dressed, "are incorrigible. Absolutely incorrigible."

"How could I not be?" Tara smiled. "You're so gorgeous...are you telling me you've never looked in the mirror while you were getting dressed and thought 'wow'?"

"Normally I think 'wow I have morning hair'," Willow grumbled amiably, "have I mentioned how lovely it is to have you brush my hair in the morning?"

"Three times already today," Tara noted, glancing away briefly to find an oilcloth to wrap the bundle of arrows as she started another one.

"You know the answer," Tara replied, "you just want to hear me say it again." She looked back at Willow. "Really 'wow'," she said warmly. Willow beamed a smile at her, then resumed getting dressed. While Tara continued to bundle up spare arrows for the journey, she wrapped her skirt around her hips, donned her long-sleeved top with practiced ease, and began adjusting the pouches on her belt before putting it on.

"Potions," Tara said, "you're less likely to need to use a scroll in an instant." They had spent some time the night before going over the various items Willow had procured from Duncraig's magic shops, so that Tara recognized each different scroll, stone or vial, and knew how to use them. Willow nodded and slipped one of the scroll cases off her belt, fixing it to her backpack instead and replacing it with more padded cylinders for her potions.

Tara finished packing her spare arrows, then stood and fixed her quiver on her back, nestled in easy reach over her shoulder, with her pack behind it. Over her other shoulder, where she would never reach for one by mistake, were the ends of five special arrows, the shafts daubed with blue dye and the feathers fixed in a spiral – Willow knew they were the arrows they had crafted the night before, Tara making the shafts and fixing to them the Arreat ice arrowheads that Willow had used her magic to sculpt from the crystals she bought. Tara swung her bow into the hooks that secured it to her back, then reached into the corner and took hold of her spear, brushing her fingers across the sea-green ribbon she had tied tightly around the shaft.

Willow joined her in the doorway, sleek and exotic in her battle gear. She held her staff lightly, just below the matching ribbon tied around it. Her belt was ringed with potion cases and tiny pouches, and on her left hip was a slim book pouch, containing the volume she and Tara had compiled containing everything they could find out about what lay ahead – legends of Hellebore, the layout of the monastery and catacombs, details of demonic summoning and ethereal magics, copied from dozens of books, or from Willow's phenomenal memory of the texts she had studied in the Zann Esu libraries. Around her neck was a thin leather cord, bare at the moment, with the two charms – protective and necromantic – in a pouch, preserving their power. Tara wore a matching cord beneath her leather breastplate, and kept her matching charms in a tiny pocket on her harness.

In her hand she had her Zann Esu diadem, and Tara's family circlet. She looked at them together, then smiled and handed the gold circlet to Tara.

"My mother's family crest," Tara said, partly to herself, as she held it, "she, and ten generations before her wore this. A-a proud heritage. I've never worn this into battle."

"You'll make them proud," Willow said, gently guiding Tara's hands up to her brow, where she slipped on the circlet. Willow brushed her fingers lightly over the shining gold, the only thing Tara wore that wasn't muted in color, either by dye or design. She then looked down at the silver diadem in her own hands, and smiled at it.

"Just Zann Esu," she replied, "every trainee gets one, up until she gets her colors. This one...this was Ember's, though. There's no magic to it, there's hundreds just like it... but she gave me this one, when she accepted me as her student. She told me she wanted me to wear it. I guess twenty, twenty-five years ago, she wore it, when she was just a trainee." Tara put a hand on her shoulder, and with her other hand guided Willow to put the diadem on.

Willow looked on warily as Tara opened the stable door and led Anji out into the barracks courtyard.

"Has she grown overnight?" she asked with a nervous smile. The horse was larger than any of the ones she'd seen before, either on her journeys with Ember or on the caravan from Kingsport. They had only been able to spare a few minutes the day before to visit her, not enough time to take her out of her stall. Willow, with Tara's encouragement, had timidly patted the horse's long face, and she had seemed quite tranquil. Seeing her out in the open was another thing altogether.

"Don't worry, she's a sweetie," Tara said, patting Anji on the side of her neck. "Aren't you girl?" The horse gave a little toss of her head and snorted, at which Willow smiled despite herself – it really did seem that she was answering Tara's idly question.

"Well, if you say so," she allowed, taking a few steps closer. Anji eyed her curiously, with a slightly reserved air.

"I promise," Tara added, "she gets the 'Tara seal of approval'." She leant towards the horse and rested her forehead against her long face.

"You remember Willow, right?" she murmured softly. "She's very special, so be good to her, huh? You want to say hello to her?" She looked back at Willow, who held up her hands in mock surrender.

"Okay, okay," she grinned, finally coming to stand close to the horse, opposite Tara. She reached out a nervous hand and laid it on Anji's face, settling into a gentle rhythm of patting her, and relaxing as protests and bites were not forthcoming.

"There," she murmured after a moment, "you're a good girl, aren't you?" She quickly retracted her hand as Anji whinnied.

"Heh," Willow chuckled at herself, "she's a big girl...okay..." She resumed her petting. "Okay...good girl. We're friends, huh?" Tara left her post at Anji's side, leaving Willow to pet the horse alone, as she stood by her side, a hand gently resting on her hip.

"She likes you," she said quietly in Willow's ear, "of course, I can understand that." Willow glanced back at Tara with a smile, then looked at the horse again, relieved to have gotten over the first hurdle in becoming accustomed to their new traveling companion.

She was truly a different breed to the common horses they had previously seen. In purely physical terms, for one thing – she stood nineteen hands high, according to the stable hand Tara had talked to the day before, though it was obvious to any onlooker that she was from a line of massive, imposing beasts. Though her shape had all the beauty of the equine form, the power in her was plain to see. But it was also in the way she moved – Willow had realized that, seeing her in her stall, she hadn't really seen her at all. Out in the open she had a grace, a purposeful elegance that was almost magical to watch. It wasn't simply cosmetic, though – in every line of her body, and every motion, was a controlled force, a sense of design in her, that set her apart from her smaller brothers and sisters. It was like – Willow searched for a way to describe it – like the difference between a fighting blade and a kitchen knife. Both could be used as weapons, but one was improvised, while the other was born to the role. The term 'warhorse' was more than just a name.

"You're like a goddess," Willow replied, reaching down to give her hip a squeeze. "No, I mean the way she's so gentle and, and soft, but at the same time she's so strong."

"That she is," Tara agreed, "talk to her a bit longer, I'll get our things onto her."

"No, I've got them," Tara insisted, "just...get to know her. You'll like her, she's very smart. When I was with her yesterday in the stables, I could've sworn she understood every word I was saying."

With an acquiescent shrug, Willow returned her attention to Anji, petting her and talking, awkwardly at first. Tara meanwhile began fixing the saddlebags they had prepared to Anji's saddle and harness, making sure the weight was distributed evenly. The horse seemed not to notice the load at all, though having seen the kind of plate armor commonly worn by heavy cavalry before, Willow couldn't say she was surprised – their traveling supplies and equipment must have seemed like a bare back by comparison to her. She continued to pet her, getting used to being in her presence without being on her guard, and even rested her forehead against her face, the way Tara had done.

"How are you two getting on?" Tara asked once their gear was stowed, though she had been close enough to hear every word.

"In front," Tara said, walking Willow around to Anji's side, "the saddle's made for two. The stable hand said they had one like this yesterday, so I asked him to get it ready. You get up first." She held the stirrup for Willow, steadying her with her other hand – from the tall warhorse, the stirrups hung easily above waist level, and Willow found it a bit of a stretch to get her foot into it.

"Up you go," Tara prompted as Willow paused. With a deep intake of breath she pushed off the ground, and aided by Tara's helping hand on her bottom propelled herself up and over the saddle, coming to rest comfortably upright.

"You know," Willow said thoughtfully, trying to suppress a mischievous smile, "I don't think I've ever had my legs this far apart...except with you, in private." Tara giggled and gave her a playful slap on the thigh.

"See these curves in the sides of the saddle?" Tara pointed. "Rest your legs there, you'll sort of fit in, I think. And use your hands to balance as well."

"It's okay," Tara assured her, lifting her foot into the stirrup and bracing herself, "you'll have my arms either side of you when we're riding." She pushed off and swung astride the horse behind Willow, resting her hands on Willow's hips as she fitted her other foot into the right stirrup. Turning briefly to give their bags one last check, making sure everything was closed and securely fastened, she took the reins from where they lay looped over the saddle, and settled in with her elbows either side of Willow.

"You're sure we're not too heavy?" Willow asked, craning her neck to look back at Tara.

"Do you really want to be riding your own horse?" Tara asked. She grinned at Willow's prompt shake of the head. "We're fine," she went on, "aren't we Anji? No problem?" The horse neighed an answer, which to Willow sounded quite content.

"Let's," Willow nodded. Tara tossed the reins lightly and gave a gentle prompting squeeze with her knees, and Anji strolled forward, towards the barracks gates.

"Lady Tara!" a voice called from the administrative building as they passed. Tara reined in as a sergeant hurried out, one hand raised in greeting.

"Sergeant Sheerson," Tara said to Willow, "from my archery classes...hello sergeant, this is Willow, my partner."

"Milady," Sheerson said, bowing deeply, "and Lady Tara...I hear yesterday you'd be scouting the Kotram highland, I'm sorry I missed you when you came in this morning... they've given you Anji?"

"Aye, she's a fine mare," Sheerson nodded, "dependable as the seasons, I'd trust my own dear mam to her. She'll carry you well and keep you safe, but I'll add my prayers to your journey, too, milady."

"We will," Tara waved, nudging Anji to a slow walk, "we'll be back before you know it."

"I'll drink to that," came the reply, and then the sergeant turned and walked back to the doorway he had emerged from.

"That's what he always calls me," Tara said, "he's very respectful. Remember I told you about him making sure the soldiers didn't show any disrespect that first day I started training them? I think his superiors might have given him the idea I'm some kind of noblewoman."

"I like 'my lady Tara'," Tara murmured. She held the reins in one hand, curling her free arm around Willow's waist.

"When we're at a steady pace," Tara said, "I'll keep both hands on the reins when we get out into the open and speed up."

"You'll be fine," Tara promised, "wind in your hair, exhilaration flowing through you...me pressed tight up against your back...?"

"When you put it that way, you know, it doesn't sound so bad," Willow grinned back at her.

Tara kept Anji at a sedate pace, in line with the rest of the traffic on horseback, as they moved down the wide street with the barracks and university on one side, the Palace on the other. Willow began to find the experience quite relaxing – her previous endeavors on horseback, while uneventful enough, had always been accompanied by a carefully- suppressed anxiety that the beast would suddenly decide to go berserk and toss her off its back. Willow felt safe now.

'Gee,' she mused with a grin, 'I wonder why that is.' She leaned back a fraction, just enough to snuggle up against Tara's chest, and felt the arm around her waist tighten tenderly. The open midriff of her Zann Esu gear let her feel every tiny motion of Tara's fingers, which were lazily moving back and forth against her upper hip. It reminded her very much of the times they had lain in bed in the morning, with nothing pressing to do, and Tara had stroked her hair as she lay with her head cushioned on her chest, listening to her heartbeat. She mentally reclassified horse riding, at least when she rode with Tara, from 'bearable' to 'I could learn to look forward to this'.

She glanced back at Tara as she steered Anji off to the right, down the road beside the university's main quadrangle, heading into the 'magic marketplace' square, where Willow had spent most of her shopping time the day before.

"Yeah, sure," Willow nodded, "you know how good I am at waiting and seeing... what's down this way? Gelt's gone off wherever he's gone, I'm pretty sure you're not wanting one last game of football before we set out...it's not the hospital, the nurses said Joma would be well enough to be home today, the way she was doing...the school of the sciences? I bet that's it, isn't it?"

"You're just too smart," Tara chastised jokingly, "I had to go down here yesterday, one of the scout officers recommended a shop for traveling gear, so I stopped by the school as well and asked if it would be okay for us to see Amalee before we left. They said she'd be there today."

"Aw, sweetie," Willow murmured, releasing one hand's grip from the saddle to stroke Tara's hand, "you think of everything."

"I hope I've thought of everything," Tara joked, "it'll be embarrassing if we have to turn back half-way because I forgot to bring the bedrolls."

"Heh," Willow chuckled, "oh, yeah, sleeping outdoors...I'd forgotten just how much I love that..." She grinned back at Tara, then looked around at the people milling around the square as they rode through it – haggling with vendors in the tiny specialist suppliers lining the streets, carrying on animated conversations with each other as they weaved through the other pedestrians, standing in the doorways of shops, ever on the look-out for a potential customer. Here there was a mother, baby cradled expertly in one arm as she carried in her other a bag full of fresh produce from the markets; there a pair of children tossing a ball to each other; a soldier chatting idly to a minor noblewoman, enjoying her attention while she listened to him talk of far-off places; a mage delivering a long monologue, his apprentice scurrying beside him, noting down his words in a journal.

"Oh, just...looking," Willow replied, "it's odd, not even having to think about where I'm going. I guess I'm not used to being on horseback – or I suppose it'd be different if I had the reins. Now, I can just look around...look at all the people."

"Mmm," Willow agreed, "but it's a good kind of busy...it's a good city. Is Tran Athulua like this? The people, I mean?"

"Not quite so crowded," Tara said, "but, in a way, yes...it feels safe. No dark corners you have to stay out of, and...and people care. You can walk past someone you don't know, and give them a smile, just out of politeness, and they'll smile back...just because you're both glad that the other is feeling good."

"I can imagine it," Willow said, leaning back against Tara, "a little less crowded? So, here and there, little pockets of peace and quiet? A secluded garden, or a fountain you can sit by and watch the water flow...space to be content...hmm," she chuckled, "I'm philosophical today. Must be the altitude."

"You're pretty close to the mark," Tara smiled, "though you mostly only get fountains in the city center, or near the edges where it reaches the ground. It's a bit of work to pump water up to the treetops otherwise. But yeah, plenty of peaceful spots, just off to one side from all the activity. Just the kind of place to sit and watch the world go by...with your lover holding you hand, resting her head on your shoulder..."

"You'd make me homesick," Tara pointed out, "if I didn't have everything I need to feel at home right here." Willow laughed softly as she felt Tara's lips press a kiss onto the back of her neck.

"It sounds lovely...exactly the kind of place where I'd want to make a home, with you."

"We will," Tara said, "I promise. One day we'll sit on the shade of the temple of Athulua, and watch all the people in the great market that'd held every year, at the beginning of summer. You'll lean over and take my hand, and I'll reach around your shoulders and hug you, and then I'll say..."

"Well, obviously," Tara said, giving Willow's hip a playful squeeze, "I'll say 'See? I told you so'."

The school of the sciences looked very much like an old temple from its stone bell tower and stained-glass windows, and it dominated the square it was in, standing alone, surrounded at a distance by general stores and craftsmen's workshops. There were traces of the old stone walls that would once have separated the grounds from the hubbub of the city about them, but now they were only an odd stone here and there, and only a wrought- iron fence stood between the grassy gardens and the cobbled streets. Tara brought Anji around to the old gatehouse and dismounted easily, helping Willow down.

"Hold the reins?" she asked. "I'll just be a moment." Willow nodded, and she disappeared into the gatehouse for a moment, appearing again with a middle-aged woman who hurried across the gardens towards the school.

"They'll bring her out," Tara explained as she walked back to Willow, "we can't bring Anji inside, obviously, and I'd like to keep an eye on her. Not that this place is exactly teeming with brigands," she added wryly, "but, you know..."

"...she's carrying all our gear, and your prized spear," Willow finished, "yeah. Do we stay out here?"

"We'll meet her in the garden," Tara said, taking the reins from Willow and looping them back over the saddle.

"Anji, wait," she said in a clear tone. The horse clomped a hoof and ducked her head.

"How much does she understand?" Willow wondered as they walked past the gatehouse and took a seat at a bench beside the path to the school. Anji waited patiently outside the gate. "I know she kind of understands a lot, but literally...?"

"The stable hand told me the commands she's trained to respond to," Tara said, "wait, follow, graze, defend, fight, home...things like that. I'll go through them tonight if you like. I'd do it while we travel, but I don't want to say the words too often while she can hear – she won't react unless you say them like an order, but still, best not to be too confusing. She's a bright girl, but we're new to her – we should keep things simple while we get used to each other."

"On the other hand, she's most definitely used to us," Tara grinned, as Amalee came dashing along the path. The woman from the gatehouse looked on from a distance, smiling but with a protective alertness to her stance, as the girl flung herself at the two women, hugging them both at once.

"She came home this morning," Amalee said breathlessly, "she brought William, and I got to hold him before school, he's so cute!"

"Is that your horse?" the girl went on. "It's a warhorse, isn't it? Uncle got a book for me all about the city, it's for grown-ups but he's helping me read it, so I'll know everything about it, it had a picture of a warhorse. Are they all that big? Is it a he or a she?"

"Do your teachers get exhausted answering all your questions?" Tara smiled, at which Amalee grinned bashfully. "We're borrowing her from the Duke's army, she's a she, yes they're pretty much all that size...was that everything?"

"You're going on a trip?" Amalee asked. "Where?" Willow and Tara exchanged a glance, then Tara sighed and offered the girl a comforting hand.

"We have to go back to the monastery," she said, "there's something there we have to do." Amalee's eyes went wide – her first instinct was obviously fright, but she controlled it well, and her expression quickly turned to determination.

"I'll guide you," she said, a slight tremble in her voice, "I know the way, remember?"

"You were very brave last time," Willow assured her, "you showed us which way to go, so we know now. You can stay, and we'll go and come back in no time."

"There's other paths," the girl went on half-heartedly, caught between fear of the danger she had seen first-hand, and reluctance to let her friends face it alone.

"It's alright," Tara said soothingly, "sweetie, this time it's our journey, just Willow and me. This is where you belong, with your uncle and aunt and your new brother."

"Willow has to go on this journey," Tara explained, "it's part of being a sorceress. And I have to go with her, because that's where I belong, with her."

"I have to," she confirmed, "I'm a sorceress, like Tara said, and this is something that I have to do. It's why there are sorceresses, and warriors...to keep everyone else safe."

Amalee sat between them, looking downcast, then her shoulders squared and she looked at Willow and Tara in turn.

"You'll take care of each other, right?" she asked. "That's right, isn't it? I asked uncle what being in love means, and he said it means you make each other happy, and you take care of each other. Is that right?"

"That's okay then," Amalee sighed, seeming relieved, "so long as you're taking care of each other, everything'll be fine."

"You know, you were very nearly right," Willow said, as Tara reined Anji back to a gentle trot.

"The appeal of riding," Willow explained, "wind in your hair and all that...there's definitely something to it. When you urged her into a gallop and we just flew, that was pretty...wow," she shrugged. "And even when we weren't going all-out, when we were just jogging along, it's really kind of relaxing to just sit up here and watch the world go by. Also we've covered about four days' worth of walking distance. And, not forgetting this at all, having you cuddled up against me the whole way was absolutely lovely."

"My backside," Willow noted, "feels like it's been used as a football by a team of giants."

"Oh, baby," Tara exclaimed, transferring the reins to one hand so she could soothingly rub her hand across the top of Willow's thigh, "why didn't you say earlier?"

"Well, we do need to cover the distance," Willow admitted, "and like I said, there's benefits to riding...I'm okay," she protested, glancing back to see the concern in Tara's eyes, "I mean, sore, but it's nothing serious, just...well, you know."

"I've definitely never spent this long in the saddle, or ridden this hard," Willow explained.

"It'll be okay," Tara assured her, "everyone gets sore at first, and I thought we might get a touch of stiffness in the muscles so I brought some oil that'll help soothe the soreness."

"You didn't," Tara said, "I'm sorry I didn't realize earlier...I remember what it was like when I started riding, years ago. I promise, once I rub some oil in, you'll feel as good as new."

"Tell you what," Tara purred, leaning closer, "just to make sure, I'll kiss it better as well."

"Yeah? You know, now I'm kind of glad I've never ridden this hard before, otherwise there'd be no reason to do that." She shifted uncomfortably in the saddle, and Tara wondered how long she'd been sore, and said nothing.

"I'm sure I could've thought of a reason," she said, giving Willow a comforting squeeze around her waist. "I promise," she added, her voice growing serious, "you'll feel better."

"I know," Willow said airily, "it's okay...I'm sure I knew this'd happen, I probably just put it out of my mind when I heard of it, like 'oh, you get sore the first time you ride hard, well I won't be riding so that doesn't apply to me'."

"That doesn't sound like my Willow," Tara noted, brushing her cheek against Willow's hair, "what happened to learning everything that's learnable?"

"I had a blind spot when it came to horses," Willow admitted, "nothing major, I just kind of stayed wary of them. They're so tall, and I'm a ground-level girl at heart...I'll grant you, Anji's a good girl. Can we give her a...a rub down, or a sugar lick, or something? What do horses like?"

"I'll give her a good rub down later," Tara said, "she's earned it, and if she's anything like the horses at home she'll enjoy it plenty. But that's for later, first I've got to give you a rub down."

"And you can bet I'll enjoy that plenty," Willow chuckled. "Let's hope we can get a private room, huh?"

Tara nodded, though she wondered if it would be possible. During the morning they had passed from the city, with its miles of closely-built houses and workshops and warehouses, to the farmlands surrounding it, a widespread patchwork of neatly-arranged fields that covered the gently rising slopes from the river delta to the distant highlands. Cows had stared blankly at them from fields; horses had come over to the high fences of their meadows to watch the towering warhorse gallop past; now and then they had happened to pass by while a farmer was near the road, tending his orchards or his crops, and given a quick wave to those who raised a hand in salute as they passed. But with Duncraig behind them, settlements had been few and far between – as if the mere presence of the city back on the river was enough to deter ill fortune, and the inhabitants of the isolated farmhouses had no need of walls or fortifications to feel secure at night.

It was an idyllic scene, particularly the small village – little more than a general store, a tavern and a smithy, where the road crossed a trail from the west – where Willow and Tara had paused for lunch, and to give Anji a little time to recover from the morning's ride. As the tavern's appearance suggested it catered solely to farmers interested in an ale after a day's work, they had eaten from their packed food, in the shadow of the general store, looking down the gentle slope to the distant city.

Resuming their journey they had found sizeable settlements just as scarce, and now looking ahead, they saw that the crossroads village Tara had decided should be their goal for the first day's ride was barely more substantial. Several buildings clustered around the road, which widened into a town square of sorts, though the east side was largely open to the farmland, with just a small storehouse. The buildings were on the west side of the square, where the road to Namon split off – a smithy was obvious by its chimney, and squinting into the late afternoon sun, Tara picked out a sign hanging in front of one of the other buildings, marking it as an inn, or at least a large tavern that would have rooms or some kind available.

"Laban," she replied, "according to the army map. That map of Kert's I looked at on the caravan didn't even have the name marked, it just showed there was something here. I suppose it's not a major waypoint for travelers."

"I've been to places like this," Willow offered, "when I traveled with Ember. They just sort of turn up at crossroads – I guess it's the obvious place to put a store or a public building, to get the most people from the area. If there's not much trade passing through, or need to build defenses, they just stay, well...crossroads towns. Your typical one would be at a four-way intersection – inn, warehouse, tavern and forge, at the four corners of the crossroads."

"This one might've decided it needed to defend itself," Tara pointed out, "look up there."

As they neared the square, Willow saw what Tara had seen – a tiny third storey addition to the tavern building, really just a wooden enclosure with a roof to keep the rain off, and a ladder leading down to a lower balcony. A man had just climbed up, and was now leaning against the side of the enclosure.

"A look-out," Tara said, "he carried up a heavy coat I think, he must be going to stay up there into the night."

"There's not much cloud about," Tara mused, "and the moon'll be bright. If he's got good eyes, he could see enough to be useful."

"They haven't been attacked here, have they?" Willow frowned. "We didn't see any sign..."

"Maybe they're just being cautious. We're almost half-way to Kotram, after all – they must know what happened there." Willow shivered.

"I hadn't realized we'd covered so much ground," she murmured. "That we were so close..."

Tara brought Anji to a halt in front of the tavern and helped Willow dismount – watching her stretch her legs, she was relieved to see she was not as stiff and sore as she'd feared. When she mentioned it, Willow grinned and quipped that she had a tough bottom. Chuckling to herself, Tara entered the tavern and spoke to the barkeep, leaving Willow talking to Anji outside.

"Sure, we've got rooms," he nodded, not lifting his eyes from the mug he was cleaning, "noting fancy, but clean and no drafts. That your horse outside?" He lifted his gaze just in time to catch Tara's surprised look – he wasn't standing near the windows. "Good ears," he grinned.

"Two silvers a night, and I'll have old Wern look after her in the stalls by the forge. You'll find no real stables hereabouts, but the forge is warm and she'll be comfortable, and dry if it rains."

"If soup's your fancy," the barkeep nodded, returning to his mugs, "you can pay extra for more – chef does simple fare, but you won't be disappointed, miss...?"

"Thank'ee ma'am," the barkeep nodded cordially, taking the silvers, "I'll send Ralf out in a moment when he's done in the kitchen, he'll see to your horse and take you to your room." Tara thanked him and walked back into the waning sunlight outside, grinning to see Willow still standing by Anji, stroking her face and talking in a soft voice.

"Who'd ha' thought it, huh?" Willow shrugged. "Me friends with a horse...I think this might surprise even Ember."

"How're you feeling?" Tara asked, standing close by as Willow gave Anji a parting pat.

"Well, I'll be sitting gingerly tonight," Willow admitted, "but don't worry," she added, laying a hand on Tara's forearm, "it's really not that bad. It's no worse than when we walked all the way from the monastery village to the river."

"Oh no question there," Willow smiled, "I just don't, you know...if it were you, I'd be getting all concerned and sympathetic, and worrying myself over you...I just don't want you to worry, that's all."

"Kind of going in circles, aren't we?" Willow murmured with a wry grin. "I get sore, so you get worried, so I get worried..."

"Let me worry a bit," Tara suggested, "then I'll give you a good rub with the healing oil, then you'll feel better, then I'll feel better, and everything will be good."

"I like that," Willow agreed, "making the circular logic work in our favor. Nice." She and Tara undid the buckles holding a pair of saddlebags to Anji's harness and hoisted them over their shoulders as a young boy in a much-used apron hurried out from the tavern's side door. He started visibly at the sight of Anji, but recovered from his surprise quickly.

"Lieutenant ma'am?" he asked. Tara nodded. "I'm to take your horse to the stalls, and then show you your room...is that okay?"

"Lieutenant?" Willow asked quietly as they followed the boy across the square, Anji's reins in Tara's hand.

"I wasn't sure how people here would respond to an Amazon," Tara shrugged, "but being an officer of the Duke's army should carry some weight."

"Do you want to give her her rub down first?" Willow asked, nodding towards Anji.

"She's earned it," Willow said, repeating Tara's words from earlier, "and then," she added, lowering her voice, "you can do me later..." Tara's lips formed a sly grin, and she leaned over to quickly give Willow a kiss on the cheek.

"Deal," she whispered. She looked back at the boy, who had been covertly sneaking glances at them as he talked to the old, sturdy man sitting by the forge's door.

"Yes ma'am- lieutenant," the boy answered nervously. Tara gave him a reassuring smile.

"I'll be taking care of our horse for a few minutes, would you see Miss Willow to our room?" Ralf nodded, and watched as Willow slid her staff from its bindings on the horse's saddle. Tara lifted the bag from Willow's shoulder and offered her the one she had been carrying.

"This one's got the bedding," she said, "just in case the blankets aren't comfy enough. I'll be up in a little while?"

Their room was small and sparsely-furnished, but as promised it was clean, and thick shutters kept the oncoming evening's chill outside. A tiny coal stove with a chimney pipe provided enough warmth to get by, a series of iron hooks in one wall served as a wardrobe, and the mattresses on the twin beds, pushed together side by side, were thin, their covers worn by use. None of these mattered to Tara so much as the sight of Willow stretched out under the blankets of the nearer bed, looking over her shoulder at the sound of the door opening, a smile spreading across her face. Tara gave a warm answering smile as she leant her spear in the corner, beside Willow's staff.

"She'll be fine," Tara said, lowering her saddlebag to the floor beside the bed and kneeling by it as she searched within, "Wern – the smith – likes horses, and she gets along okay with him. Her stall's big enough, clean, well-stocked...she'll be comfortable enough."

"I did my best," Tara admitted, "considering I was desperate to get up here and tend to you. I think she sensed it," she added in a conspiratorial tone, "when I said goodbye she sort of nudged me, like she was saying 'go on, go be with your lover you impatient thing.' Cheeky girl."

"Just as well horses can't talk," Willow mused, "or I bet she'd be making jokes at our expense all the way to Kotram and back. But," she added, stretching out on her stomach and reaching behind herself to pull back the blanket, "speaking of cheek..."

"Cheek of an entirely different sort," Tara grinned, taking in the sight. Willow had donned a silky green robe, long enough to reach her ankles, but she had pulled it to one side at her waist, leaving its shimmering folds spread out beside her, and herself naked from the waist down. Tara sat on the bed and gently stroked the back of Willow's thigh as her other hand undid the straps on her boots. She noticed the slight flinch Willow gave as her fingertips moved higher, towards her hips.

"Poor baby," she murmured lovingly, sliding her feet free and rising up to kneel over Willow, straddling her knees. "How bad does it ache?"

"It's not that bad," Willow said, with perhaps a little forced casualness. "Mmm," she hummed as Tara's fingertips traced feather-light patterns over her thighs, "and getting better all the time."

"This will feel hot for a moment," Tara said, reaching down to pick up the small vial of oil she had extracted from her bag, "and I have to press hard...you'll be okay?"

"Feels hot already," Willow murmured into the pillow. Tara reached down and carefully moved more of the robe aside, exposing Willow's lower back. She tipped a little oil onto her palms and rubbed them together, spreading it evenly. A flush of heat passed through her hands, and she smiled.

"Will you quit stalling and feel me up?" Willow grinned over her shoulder. Tara gave her a wink and leaned forward, beginning by pressing her palms against the cheeks of Willow's bottom, gripping with firm, gentle fingers.

"Oh! Oooh...mmm," Willow exclaimed, first in surprise, and perhaps a little pain, then relief, and finally pleasure as the oil did its work, seeping into her skin and relaxing her tired muscles. Tara rubbed her way down her thighs, slipping lightly downwards then pressing firmly back up with every stroke, earning a series of contented moans from Willow. She could feel the tension in her thighs and hips evaporating beneath her touch, so palpable it was as if she could literally see healing flowing from her hands, replacing Willow's aching soreness with calm pleasure.

"Oh baby," Willow sighed, "you have the hands of a goddess...what is that oil you're using? I've never felt anything quite like that..."

"It's called sunset oil," Tara explained, softening her grip now that Willow was relaxing, "so called, so they say, because it's for soothing the body after a long, eventful day."

"The Order has something kind of similar," Willow said dreamily, "fire sorceresses make it as part of their healing training...helps out during the physical training...but it's not like this...just hot, then you relax. This is...this is like I'm lowering myself into a steaming hot bath. First the heat that you want to recoil from for a second, then you realize you can take it...relax, and touch your skin to the water...slowly edge lower until you're surrounded...it's so good..."

"I'm not sure whether it's Amazon in origin, or if we brought it back from the mainland somewhere," Tara said idly, kneading away at Willow's thighs, "if they don't have it here, maybe Tryptin should see about having one of the merchant emissaries set up a contract to export it?"

"Oh goddess," Willow sighed happily, "that's so good...heh, you'll have merchantmen moored five deep at the docks to take on cargo if you do. Every horseman and fighter in Westmarch will bless the Amazon nation..."

"Definitely sounds like a good move on our part then," Tara chuckled. "How's the saddle-soreness?"

"Oh baby, it's bliss," Willow grinned. "Not the soreness, I mean...that's gone...totally gone...just good feelings and the Tara-hands causing them now..."

"You're not the only one getting good feelings," Tara replied, intent satisfaction written on her face as she massaged away Willow's tension.

"Mmm...yeah, I can definitely feel you enjoying your work," Willow murmured. "Starting to wonder if you left the saddle cushions behind just so you could massage me better afterwards..."

"Hmm? Oh! No, I was just teasing," Willow said quickly, staring over her shoulder, "I know you'd never...that was a silly thing to say, I'm sorry."

"Yeah, but...I'm sorry anyway," Willow said with a rueful grin. "I've seen, sometimes, gentle, thoughtful people get...well, taken for granted. Everyone just assumes that's how they are, never realizes how difficult it can be to care so much, when there's so much to care about...I don't want you to feel like that, like I don't realize how wonderful you are...oooh..." she purred as Tara pressed her palms against the backs of her thighs, and worked them upwards, fingers working sensually across her muscles.

"Well...I just want to remind you anyway," Willow said, relaxing again, "you are the kindest, gentlest person I've ever known...you're a healer in the truest sense of the word – not in the professional sense, but just...in every way you can, you make things better... like me...you make me better..."

"Mine too," Willow agreed. "In fact...oh gods...harder baby..." Tara's smile widened, and she redoubled her efforts, concentrating on stimulating Willow's sensitive inner thighs now that the soreness of the day's ride was quite taken care of.

"Uh-huh...move your fingers a little higher and you'll get the gist of it," Willow purred.

"I wish I could," Tara murmured, leaning forward while her hands again cupped Willow's rear, "but this oil really shouldn't be used on, ah, delicate areas..."

"Don't worry," Tara whispered, "I have a back-up plan." She leaned forward the last fraction necessary to kiss the nape of her neck. As her lips parted, she drew her tongue up the length of Willow's neck to her hairline, enjoying the shudder than ran through the body beneath her.

"I like this plan," Willow murmured happily as she complied. Her eyes found Tara staring down at her, warm anticipation flowing through her gaze, and at the first touch of their lips her eyelids fluttered closed. Her hands crept up Tara's back, sliding over the warm, smooth leather covering her. As Tara deepened their kiss, widening her tongue's exploration of the mouth she had claimed, Willow's fingers wove into the laces running down the sides of her armor and gripped her firmly by them, holding her close.

"You want this off?" Tara murmured, her lips still caressing Willow's as she spoke.

"Mmm..." Willow sighed deep in her throat, as her hips, aided by Tara's hands, lifted off the bed. She spread her legs, gasping into Tara's kiss as she felt leather touch her mound, smooth and hard against her curls of hair.

"And what," Tara purred, breaking the kiss only to caress Willow's ear with her heated breaths, "do you want your warrior to do to you?"

"Wh-what do I...?" Willow murmured, surprised not to find Tara, playing the warrior, taking charge of her at her body's clear invitation.

Tara's words painted clearly in Willow's mind – not the familiar fantasy of herself at the tender mercy of her sensual, powerful lover, but instead a new scene of indulgence, in which Tara was giving herself over to Willow's words, her wishes, her pleasure. The thought of Tara like that – warrior Tara, strong, beautiful and powerful – guided by her lover's voice; the submission of this sensually dominant persona of hers was unexpected, and thrilling. The touch of Tara's tongue on her earlobe, gentle and supplicant, confirmed her intentions, and what she wanted to give Willow now.

"I want..." she began, forcing her voice to work in the face of the incredible arousal inside her. She knew what she wanted – what her body had been aching for all through Tara's massage, while her hands had healed and then aroused with their sure caresses. In a moment of lucidity she found an odd sort of symmetry to her need – submitting herself to her body's desires, just as Tara was giving herself to her lover's. She chuckled at the thought, which when she spoke gave her voice a languidly sensual quality.

"I want you to taste me," she said. The moment the words were out of her mouth Tara was upon her, kissing her with beautiful abandon. Her tongue darted back and forth, supremely confident that there would be no objection to her fierce, unhesitant foray – but even then, Willow felt the suggestion Tara had planted in her mind take hold, knew that here and now Tara was hers, for all that her actions suggested the opposite. The combination of passionate intensity and underlying acquiescence to Willow drove her completely to distraction – the thought alone of being taken by her sexy, leather-clad Tara was enough to cast all else from Willow's mind, and the reality was far, far more intense than the thought.

Tara finally pulled back, her tongue lingering for a moment after her mouth left Willow's, reaching for one last taste of her lips before vanishing behind a loving, lusting smile.

"Close your eyes?" The lilt in Tara's voice left no doubt that it was a request, not an order. Willow smiled serenely and complied, murmuring quietly as she felt Tara's hands gently let her hips settle for a moment on the rumpled sheets.

Tara leaned back, biting her lip to stem the tide of anticipation in her that demanded she sample Willow's nectar without delay. She could see the excitement in Willow's trembling body, and was utterly delighted at being the cause of it – and truth be told, the experience of placing herself at Willow's service, herself still arrayed in her armor while her lover was naked and vulnerable, was a surprising thrill for her as well. She had known the effect her Amazon armor had on Willow – it was easy for her to imagine, since she found Willow's Zann Esu battle gear scintillatingly sexy – but she had not truly realized how much she had allowed Willow's erotic vision of her powerful, sensual warrior to permeate her own mind. Now she was in that warrior persona – which she had not previously thought of as such, truly – and surrendering to Willow.

'I bet no other warrior ever enjoyed surrender this much,' she grinned silently. Quickly, conscious of the urgency of Willow's need, and her own need to satisfy her, she daubed a fresh supply of oil on her fingers, and placed her hands carefully on either side of Willow's hips, not quite touching her. She leaned down, crouching so as not to stretch her legs off the end of the single bed, and breathed a hot, heady breath across Willow's mound.

"Ah!" Willow exclaimed, her hips lifting towards Tara's lips, affording her the opportunity to slip her oiled hands beneath her buttocks and grip her firmly. The bite of the oil's heat and the firm, loving entry of Tara's tongue came as one sensation, and the delighted squeal that arose from Willow's throat left no doubt as to how stimulating the combination was. She surged in Tara's hold, pressing herself into her kiss, offering and demanding everything. Tara allowed herself to become lost in the sensual flood of emotion that always came with making love to Willow, as all her senses filled with pleasure, and the proof, in Willow's cries of passion, in the writhing of her body and the wetness of her core, that her deep, all-consuming desire to please Willow was bearing fruit.

Willow's hands clutched at the sheets, then flew to her body, one flattening against her stomach, fingers splayed as if to massage the climax welling up within her, the other covering her mouth in a half-successful attempt to stifle the loud moan she couldn't help but give voice to as her core clenched and released its wave of pleasure. Tara held her hips firmly, keeping her lips and tongue in contact with Willow's sex as aftershocks followed climax, and slowly the urgency in both their bodies was replaced with languid satisfaction. Finally, with a last kiss on Willow's clit, so soft it felt to Willow like a breath, Tara made her way up the bed and lay down, one arm tucked comfortably under the single pillow, the other around Willow's waist, playing idly with the undone end of the sash from her robe.

"Oh, goddess," Willow sighed, "so well...goddess...when you took me, with your hands underneath me, and the oil, the heat was so amazing...like...like you were reaching through my skin, right to my core, warming me up..."

"I thought you'd like it," Tara murmured, laying her head on Willow's shoulder. "I've always liked how sunset oil felt after a long day doing spear routines, or riding when I first started...of course, it never occurred to me to use it quite like this," she added with a sly smile.

"Just as well," Willow chuckled, "you'd have ended up all hot and bothered, and unable to touch yourself where you really wanted to..." Tara laughed and nodded. "Speaking of really wanting to touch you," Willow went on casually, "do you still get sore from riding?"

"Oh, just a little," Tara admitted, "on a ride like today, sure, but it passes when I stretch my legs a bit." She watched Willow out of the corner of her eye, grinning lop- sidedly as she waited for the question she knew was coming.

"Well now that you mention it," Tara gave in eagerly, "I could definitely be kissed better...?"

Willow and Tara came down the stairs to the tavern's common dining room, doing their best to look casual, though the hint of a knowing grin snuck into their expressions now and then. The chef, already busy attending to the evening crowd, barely looked at them as he handed them plates of bread and soup, but several of the patrons spared more than a passing glance at them as they took a table away from the bar, Willow pausing to speak to the barman.

"No juice," she said to Tara, as she took her seat beside her and set down a pitcher of water and two glasses. "They've got a light cider, places like this usually do an okay cider, and it won't be that strong...what do you think? It's just water otherwise."

"Me too," Willow agreed, signaling to the barman, "I don't really like the idea of heading into the wilderness with a hangover...although," she mused, "it would be an added incentive to take down any demons we find, just to keep them from making too much noise."

"There is that," Tara smiled, "and besides, you're cute when you're tipsy. Remember the Baron's feast?"

"I wasn't that tipsy," Willow protested with a grin, "I could walk in a straight line."

"Provided you were leaning on me," Tara noted, dipping her spoon in her soup and taking a sip.

"Well you offered, and I wasn't going to argue, was I?" Willow took a sip, and nodded.

"Well, you did already see to my other needs," Willow said in a low voice, "very comprehensively...not that I'm not ready and willing for more."

"That's good to know," Tara grinned. They ate in silence for a moment, watching the odd farmer tramp in now and then, each hanging a thick coat by the door before joining the small crowd by the bar.

"You know," Willow said idly, "there used to be a practice among the northern tribes of getting drunk before going into battle. They had a special caste among their warriors, supposed to be touched by the gods – not blessed exactly, just not quite earthly. They'd wear no armor at all, just bear skins, and get roaring drunk and fight with these huge two- handed hammers."

"Well, if nothing else, it sounds like it'd give the enemy a nasty shock," Tara shrugged.

"I wouldn't be surprised," Willow nodded. "It's an old legend. There's a bear clan nowadays, sort of a warrior brotherhood, which they say is descended from those warriors. I'm not sure if they still get drunk or not."

"If they do, they might have a couple of recruits here," Tara said with a raised eyebrow and a grin. Willow glanced at the bar, where one of the patrons was swaying on his seat and explaining something to his friends, with expansive hand gestures that came perilously close to knocking his mug off the bar.

A chorus of greetings met a new arrival as the front door opened, but the chatter died down as the patrons saw the newcomer's grim expression. He was a middle-aged man, who walked with a limp but otherwise seemed quite fit and healthy. His clothes were well-tailored, similar to those worn by gentlemen back in the city, though his coat, which he hung alongside the others, was thick and hard-wearing. Willow gave a quick glance to Tara, who was also observing the man – she shrugged, and Willow looked back.

"Good evening t'ye, sir," the barkeep said, temporarily abandoning his other customers to pour the newcomer an ale.

"Sadly, it is not," he said in a clear, precise voice – definitely an educated man, Willow surmised. The various men at the bar continued to wait in silence, clearly expecting an explanation of the man's statement. He sighed and leaned on the bar, ale in hand.

"I have had a messenger from the Lohnbras property," he said, raising his voice so everyone could hear, "three cattle were killed last night, and they say there are clear signs that the attackers were not beasts." A murmur went through the room.

"No men have seen the creatures," the man went on, raising his voice a notch to quiet the crowd, "nor has there been sign of them near houses or barns, only in open fields. But..." he paused, and sighed, "the danger is there. I have sent word to the city-"

"Why has the army not come already?" one of the men at the bar protested. "Ye sent word last week, did ye not?"

"I did," the newcomer nodded, "but at the moment, it seems the situation does not allow for a military presence here, unless the threat becomes more immediate."

"Unless a man dies?" the patron asked. "This past week we've seen the campfires of these damned things, coming farther north – well, they're coming here, aren't they? They've blackened Kotram and the countryside there and now it's fresh pickings they're after!"

The newcomer held up a hand for calm, then leant over the bar as the barkeep beckoned, listening as he spoke quietly. Despite being distracted, his appeal for quiet seemed enough to settle the protesting man back into his seat, with a discontented mutter. The newcomer glanced over at Willow and Tara, spoke again with the barkeep, then nodded and stood up straight.

"A moment, please," he said to the crowd. He approached Willow and Tara's table and nodded in greeting.

"Good evening to you both," he said politely, "may I join you for a moment or two?" Willow looked to Tara, with a tiny shrug of her shoulders to show her surprise.

"Thank you," the man said, picking a vacant chair from nearby and seating himself across the table from Willow and Tara.

"My name is Konran," he went on, "I own one of the nearby farms, and keep the strongboxes for the local farmers – we're not large enough to have a town hall or mayor here, but I suppose you could say I'm the informal leader of our small town."

"Pleased to meet you," Tara said formally, allowing herself to relax in the face of the man's politeness, "I'm Tara."

"Thank you for your time," Konran said, "I won't take much of it. As you no doubt just heard, there have been some disturbing events on local properties – to be frank, we fear the damned ones from the south may be moving this way. Plater there tells me that you're from the Duke's army," he nodded to Tara, "I wonder if I could prevail upon you to share any knowledge you are able to, either to allay our fears, or at least let us know what we may be facing."

Tara glanced at Willow, who offered a supportive smile, then around the common room. The tavern's patrons were keeping quiet, obviously paying attention to the conversation going on in the corner between their elder and the visitors.

"I'm an Amazon," she said to Konran, "I'm acting as a scout for the army. Willow is my partner, and a sorceress of the Zann Esu order. We intend to travel to the Kotram monastery and," she paused, wondering how to phrase their intentions, "and investigate the nature of the threat there."

"So it is the monastery," Konran nodded to himself, "we suspected, that area being the center of the trouble, but there's been little reliable information. May I ask...are these creatures organized? Scavengers, you see, are no great threat – well, to livestock yes, and we can do our best to drive them away, and defend our homes. But, if this is something like an army...well, we are not fighters, you see...we don't have the ability to defend against such a foe." He looked expectantly at Tara.

"I'm not sure," she admitted, "we have suspicions, but suspecting and knowing are two different things..." She glanced at Willow. "So far as I know, if there were a...a leader to these creatures, it wouldn't have reason to move towards you."

"That's right," Willow agreed, turning to Konran, "we can't be sure, but I think this is probably scavenging, like you said. But don't take chances, these things are dangerous."

"We've been there before," Willow said, "the monastery, the wilderness..." The man looked suitably impressed.

"Just the two of you?" he asked. "Forgive me, I'm underestimating you both...one thing, if I might ask...is the army coming? We've had no sure response, you see, and some of us worry that, well," he lowered his voice again, "the Duke may not order a military action until it's too late for us."

"The army's to the north of Duncraig," Tara said, "the Duke isn't leaving you alone, he just doesn't have enough men to fight two campaigns at once. But I'm sure, if the demons do attack in numbers, the Duke will send troops immediately. I'm sorry, I just don't know more than that."

"You've set my mind at ease as best you could," Konran said, "thank you both, and safe journey to you." He stood and went back to the bar, where the patrons gathered around him. Tara watched him go, then turned back to Willow.

"I hope it is just scavenging," she said, "I mean...you and me, we can manage. We can lie low, or avoid any big groups of demons, and fight our way our of trouble if we have to, but...if they come here, then what? We can't go on the offensive, or stop a tribe of demons from marching if we see them...what will they do here?"

"They've got look-outs," Tara said, "if worst comes to worst, they'll have warning, and they'll be able to leave before any big bands of demons arrive."

"They'll have to leave their homes," Willow said sadly, "there'll be nothing left when they get back."

"They'll have their families," Tara said, "their children, their loved ones...it won't be like the Kotram villages. They'll have warning, and Duncraig is only a day's ride away." She shifted her chair closer to Willow's and slipped an arm around her waist.

"It'll be okay," she said softly. "Bad things may happen to them, but these people... they'll survive, and rebuild. That's how it goes. You can't keep trouble from happening, you just have to make sure you get through it. They'll be okay." She leaned closer and rested her forehead against Willow's. "We'll be okay."

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Hellebore

by Chris Cook

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