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 noticed Amalee looking weary by the time they reached the edge of the valley, where the outskirts of the forest below reached around either side of a small stream flowing down from the north. She could tell from the shadows, without looking up, that midday was an hour gone.

"No," the girl said stubbornly, "of course not." She put an extra swing in her stride and kept her eyes fixed forward, missing the indulgent smile Tara couldn't keep off her face.

"Well I'm tired," Willow said with a private grin for Tara, "would you mind if we stopped for a little bit?"

"Okay," Amalee allowed after a pause. After a quick glance to make sure neither woman was watching too closely, she gratefully sank to the ground and stretched her legs.

"Yep," the girl replied promptly. "To get to the river you follow this stream into the valley to the clearing half-way, where the big stream joins it. You have to cross to the north side there, because it gets deep further on and there isn't another crossing. Then you follow the big stream all the way down to the river."

"Then that's what we'll do," Willow nodded, accepting a piece of dried fruit from Tara, "if you think it's safe?"

"It's probably best," Tara said with a reassuring smile, but a slight edge to her voice caught Willow's attention. She noticed Tara give her a meaningful glance, and resolved to pursue the topic further when she had the chance.

"Can you tell us about this clearing?" Tara asked Amalee. "We need somewhere to stop for the night."

"It's where daddy always made camp for the night when we went to the river," she replied, "except last month the weather was bad so we didn't go. That happened sometimes. Daddy didn't like taking the animals out in bad weather." She hesitated and looked off to the horizon.

"What happens when people die?" she asked without looking back. Tara exchanged a glance with Willow, and saw a reflection of what she was feeling – sadness for the girl who had lost her family, yet at the same time a sort of pride at the strength and composure she was showing.

"That depends," Tara said after a brief moment to choose her words, "lots of people believe lots of different things."

"What do Amazons do?" Amalee asked, turning to look at Tara. There were tears in her eyes, and she wasn't holding them back, but nor were they overcoming her.

"Amazons go to where our gods live, and live with them," Tara explained gently. "They explore places we can't imagine, and they serve the gods in whichever way suits them best."

"Oh," Amalee said, giving this some thought. "Like angels?" she asked after a moment.

"Daddy missed mommy very much," Amalee said gravely. "I hope," she paused and took a deep breath, "I hope he sees her again. I think he'd be very happy to be with her again."

"I'm sure he is," Willow said comfortingly, reaching out to hold the girl's hand.

"He was good," Amalee agreed, "he was brave and kind... he took care of me and granny... she'll be with grandpa now..." She sniffled, and Willow and Tara both moved closer to her. Willow held Amalee's small hand in both of hers, while Tara put an arm around her shoulders, holding her as she cried quietly.

"It's alright honey," Willow said sadly, "I'm sure they're all in a good place, a-and your daddy is with your mommy, and your granny with your grandpa, and they're all happy to be with each other again, a-and they're all so proud of you, being such a strong girl... you know it's okay to cry, don't you? Crying doesn't mean you're not strong..."

"Yes," Amalee said indistinctly, "daddy told me... he cried sometimes about mommy... I was young, and she got sick... he took care of her for a long time... he told me it was okay to cry and be sad sometimes..."

"That's true sweetie," Tara said soothingly, "I know... I lost my mommy and daddy when I was very young, and I'm still sad sometimes. I do miss them very much." Willow gave her a compassionate glance, and she smiled her thanks.

"But you know what?" she went on to Amalee. "There were other people who cared about me, and they took care of me, just like we're going to take care of you. And your uncle in the city, he'll take care of you, won't he?"

"When we visited him daddy said he spoiled me," Amalee said with a trembling smile, "he gave me sweetbread whenever I asked for it, and daddy said my eyes were bigger than my mouth. They're not," she added indignantly

"That's okay," Amalee said, in a conspiratorial tone, "I found out where he kept the sweetbread. He hid a jar on the shelf behind the flour." Willow and Tara both laughed.

"It'll be alright sweetie," Tara said. Amalee nodded, to herself more than to Tara, and took a deep, clear breath.

"Do you feel like lunch?" Willow asked, at which Amalee nodded enthusiastically.

"Lucky we stocked up on rations," Tara said with a raised eyebrow, "your eyes are bigger than your mouth."

"Are not." Amalee accepted the dried fruit and ration bread, and Tara handed her the smaller waterskin.

"We'll just fill this other waterskin, okay?" she asked. "We'll just be over there at the stream."

"'Kay," Amalee said, munching away. Willow followed Tara the few meters to the stream, keeping an eye on the girl, who seemed to have recovered her equilibrium and was eating contentedly.

"She's taking it well," she commented quietly to Tara, who nodded her agreement.

"Children, huh?" she said with a sad smile. "I'm sure she'll have to deal with it more, in time. But she's a strong girl."

"And she's got a wonderfully caring woman looking after her," Willow said, giving Tara a quick kiss on her cheek.

"Make that two," Tara smiled back. She met Willow's eyes and for a moment they simply stared at each other, affection and passion and contentment all plain in their gazes. Tara gently placed a kiss on Willow's lips, then knelt down to refill the waterskin. Willow glanced back at Amalee, and gave her a wave when she glanced over her shoulder, which she returned.

"What was it you were unsure about with the valley?" she asked quietly, bending down next to Tara.

"It's difficult to say," Tara said, "the land around here is much more, oh, disturbed, than it was further west."

"There's evil here," Tara explained, "unnatural things... I think the demons have been moving through the land here longer, and maybe more of them. They hurt the land, the rhythms that I can feel get disrupted. It makes it difficult to sense a real danger, out of all the..." she shrugged, "background evil."

"There could be," Tara said, "but what I can sense to the north and south is the same. I don't think we'll necessarily be avoiding the danger if we avoid the valley, and it'd take us another day to reach the river."

"Demons don't like water," Willow mused, "it's not a massive deterrent to them, or anything, but this stream's pure... there might be a slightly smaller chance of running into anything if we stick to it. No guarantee of course," she hastened to add, "I mean, in the right circumstances even a Carver will wade through a stream like this and not really care, and there's even some demons that live in the water – in Kehjistan, mainly, I don't think there's many in the western kingdoms – but just, in general, demons kind of... gravitate away from clean water."

"I think we should go through the valley," Tara concluded. "I just wanted you to know, there could be a danger, so you'd be ready."

"I didn't want to say it in front of Amalee," Tara admitted, "I'm sure she'd cope, and... the way she looks around, have you noticed she keeps checking the horizon? She knows we're not really safe out here. But I didn't want to worry her any more unless we're sure we're going to run into trouble."

"I'll keep close to her," Willow promised, "if anything happens I'll cast an armor around us both."

"Good," Tara smiled, "that'll keep me from worrying." Willow grinned, then glanced at the stream, and over at Amalee.

"She must've been down in that tunnel for a long time," she said sadly, "longer than we were."

"Days," Tara agreed somberly, "more than a week, I think. Just a guess," she added, "from what was left of the food she ate. She must've known to take food and water, if there was trouble. Her father taught her well. He probably saved her life."

After finishing their lunch break Willow set about washing the blankets they had used the night before. Amalee joined them, helping wring the water out of the blankets after Willow had scrubbed them, and Tara suggested that a bath might be in order – the girl needed one, after her time in the tunnel with no water save for drinking. The girl agreed readily, which Willow put down to her being raised in a small, rural village, rather than a city where bathing in front of others would be unthinkable. Tara joined her, which seemed to put her more at ease, and Willow sat on a rock at the edge of the stream, washing Amalee's clothes and employing a little magic to help them on their way to drying in the sun. The girl's tunic and skirt were worn in places, with patches here and there, but obviously made to last by people who knew the value of hard-wearing clothes. Willow took care to clean them as best she could, and smiled over at Amalee when she noticed the girl gazing in wonder at the misty clouds that formed briefly whenever she finished with a garment and dried it.

Her thoughts also turned to Tara, which was not unusual, but she found herself particularly aware of the tender, motherly way her lover interacted with the young girl, joking with her to keep her happy, helping wash her small body with their washcloth, slowly cleaning away the grime of too long spent hiding in the dark, cold underground. Willow suddenly, and with some surprise, found herself wondering what might lie in the future for her and Tara, and whether, at some time after they had settled down, after their travels were done, they might have a child of their own. Even now, with the destruction of the Reckoning fading into memory, there were still orphans who needed the love of a family. Tara seemed so naturally caring, so loving, so instinctively able to provide the attention, the affection and the protection that a child like Amalee deserved, even though it would only be for a short time, until they reached Duncraig and found her uncle. She wondered what would happen if he was not there, if he had moved somewhere else, or simply couldn't be found. Reluctantly she suppressed the small part of herself that hoped Amalee would stay with them – the girl deserved to be with her family, and if she and Tara were, one day, to have the chance to raise such an angel of their own... well, that day would be a long time coming.

'Getting a little ahead of myself there,' Willow mused with a private grin, finishing drying the last of Amalee's undergarments and setting them with the rest of her clothes. Still, seeing Tara with the girl gave her a great sense of pride. 'My Tara,' she thought, 'this beautiful, wonderful person... and she loves me. If that's not a miracle, I don't know what is.' Tara glanced at her briefly and their eyes met, and Willow blew her a kiss, hoping to convey in the simple gesture all the love she felt. Tara's smile widened, and she blew a kiss in return, which Willow mimed catching and placing next to her heart.

'Love you,' Tara mouthed, before returning her attention to Amalee. Willow smiled and continued to watch them, marveling at the beauty of the pair of them, the girl innocent and joyous – even in the midst of such a difficult time, Willow thought, Tara could bring that out of her. Her eyes strayed to Tara, and she spent a leisurely few moments assessing her lover's beauty in an entirely different way. 'Oh my,' she thought to herself, watching the water stream down Tara's side and over her hip as she bathed, 'bring on the city, specifically the private bedroom.' She chuckled to herself. 'Heh. Just as well it'll only be a few days. There's things I'm gonna to do you, my love, that shouldn't even be done in the same house as children.' Tara glanced at her again, and seemed to read her mind from her expression, if her raised eyebrow and wicked smile were anything to judge by. 'Damn,' she thought, 'I'm not sure I'm old enough to be thinking these kinds of thoughts.'

Tara quickly finished her bathing and strapped her armor back on, after convincing a disappointed Amalee that it wouldn't fit her. She wandered over to where Willow sat while the girl finished drying herself.

"I know," Tara smiled, "makes you think, doesn't it?" She nodded towards Amalee. "One day?"

"Do you always know exactly what I'm thinking?" Willow teased. Tara laughed to herself. "You'd make a wonderful mother," Willow went on quietly, "she adores you so much already."

"I know so," Tara said firmly. "I can see it in the way you look at her. You've known her a couple of hours, and already you'd do anything to keep her safe."

"Anyone would," Willow insisted modestly, "how could they not? She's so, so innocent, how could anyone not want to protect her from all this?" She waved a hand around vaguely. "Anyone in my place would do the same."

"That doesn't mean it's not special," Tara said gently, "it doesn't mean you're not special. You are. To me, and to her as well."

"Oh, well," Willow grinned, "goddess bathing in stream, what am I supposed to do, look away? Nuh-uh." She sighed. "A big part of me is going to miss her, when we get to Duncraig and bring her to her family... but there's an up side to having some time just to ourselves."

"Poor Willow," Tara smiled, "thinking naughty thoughts, and no way to act on them."

"Yeah," Willow shrugged, "where do we get a babysitter in the middle of nowhere?" Tara laughed again, then leaned over to whisper in Willow's ear:

"You can hold me to whatever you like," Tara replied with a wink. "And besides," she went on, more casually, "it's not like we'll never see her again once we get to Duncraig. Isn't that right?" she added as Amalee came over and started getting dressed. "We'll visit you all the time, won't we?"

"Yep," the girl said with a brilliant smile. "Are you going to live in the city?"

"Not forever," Tara admitted, "but we'll be staying there for a long time, won't we?"

"Oh, yeah," Willow agreed, "we won't be going on the road again until well after the solstice."

"And you promise you'll visit?" Amalee said, fixing them both with a serious stare.

"Absolutely," Tara said, "cross my heart." She did so, and Willow copied the gesture, which seemed to satisfy Amalee beyond all doubt.

"We need to get going," the girl said after a moment's consideration, "we have to reach the clearing before dark."

The plain sloped down into the valley gently at first, aside from a few rocky patches they scrambled down with relative ease. Willow noticed Amalee found an easy path without having to stop and study the way ahead, a sure sign that they were following the trail she and her father had taken down to the river, probably from the time she was first old enough to make the trip. While the notion of Amalee being their 'guide' had at first been more of a device to let the girl feel useful, to give her a purpose at a time when she seemed to sorely need one, it occurred to Willow that her knowledge of the terrain and the easiest path to take was no small convenience. She resolved to make sure the girl knew, once they reached the river, how valuable her help had been.

On either side, half a mile distant and rising up beyond that, rocky highlands blocked the view of the horizon as they made their way down to the floor of the valley, cliffs and steep slopes that wouldn't be easy to traverse under any circumstances, and might be too much for a child. Before long the ridges themselves were obscured by the branches of tall, thick trees, their trunks old and gnarled, twisted into strange shapes, their leaves dark and large, melding together into a canopy. Willow glanced now and then at Tara, who was following a pace or two behind her and Amalee, and noticed a change about her, as if she was suddenly more aware of her surroundings.

"I think so," Tara replied cautiously, "the forest is... comforting, I suppose. But I wouldn't call it safe."

"That's a difficult path," Amalee said, "we had to take it one time when there was a fire in the valley, and daddy said it was a bloody pain in the ass." Willow shared a grin with Tara at the gleeful way the girl repeated the words she had, presumably, overheard from her father in an unguarded moment.

"I agree," Tara said, "it does look like a – it looks difficult," she corrected herself with a smile. "I don't think that way is any safer. We'll be on our guard. You'll be fine with us, sweetie," she said to Amalee.

"It's true," the girl insisted, "daddy said one time that heroes are just normal people who do the right thing, even when it's really really difficult. Like one time, there was a fire in the grain house, and old Mister Borat went in to save Tosan the baker's son, and he was a hero, even though he was just an old man who sat outside the church and told stories."

"That's true," Tara offered, "lots of people are heroes at some time. Your daddy was a hero too, you know."

"Oh yes," Tara assured her, "he made sure you knew what to do if there was trouble, and that you knew to take food and water with you, and he took care of you and made you a strong, clever, brave girl." Amalee considered this, and smiled, pride tinged with sadness. She thought some more as they followed an overgrown trail on the south side of the stream, and eventually looked up at Willow.

"I'm glad you're here," she said, "both of you. I was afraid before, but I'm not now."

"How come I didn't go under the bad wizard's spell? It was a spell, wasn't it? What he did to all the people." Willow sighed, and glanced back at Tara. She gave Willow a meaningful glance, which Willow read with an ease that surprised her: 'she's a strong girl, just tell her.'

"I'm not sure honey," Willow said, "we – my Order of mages – we know about the spell that the wizard did on your village, but we don't know exactly how it works. I read a story once that said, one time, a person resisted the spell, so maybe you did as well."

"I'm not a wizard," Amalee pointed out, "don't you have to be a wizard to stop magic from working on you?"

"Sometimes," Willow allowed, "but sometimes not. It depends on a lot of things, like what sort of spell it is, how it's being cast, how powerful the mage – the wizard – is, all sorts of things like that. The story said that resisting this spell doesn't use magic."

"That's okay," Amalee said, "at the church they told us stories about demons and bad people all the time, but they always lost in the end, because they're bad, and good people are stronger than bad people. That's right, isn't it? Do the demons in your story lose?"

"Yes," Willow said, glancing at Tara and receiving an encouraging look, "yes, they do, and you're right, good is stronger in the end, even if sometimes it doesn't seem that way."

"That's not fair," Willow grinned, "you're being cute on purpose. Okay, I'll tell you." Amalee bounced briefly, looking extremely pleased with herself, and Tara laughed quietly behind them.

"Okay," Willow began, "this happened a long time ago, hundreds of years ago. There was once an evil wizard called Goreth, who was jealous of the other wizards in his Order. They were all old and powerful, but Goreth was young and impatient, and he didn't want to spend years and years studying magic before he could learn the really powerful spells, he wanted to be very powerful right now."

"That's not right," Amalee pointed out seriously, "daddy said if you want something, you have to earn it, otherwise it's not really yours."

"Your daddy was a smart man," Willow said, at which Amalee glowed with pride. "That's right, you know the saying you have to learn to walk before you can run? Well, magic's just like everything else that way. But sometimes there are people who don't want to do it that way, and they look for easy ways to get power, without having to work for it. See, Goreth was powerful already, more than the other students his age, and he thought he was better than them, and should be taught more quickly, but his elders wouldn't let him. Well, he tried to get power from demons, and the other wizards – mages – in his Order banished him, to try to keep him from talking to the demons. But Goreth already suspected they would try to stop him, and he had already made a deal with a very powerful demon, a demon called Belial-"

"I know him," Amalee piped up, "he's the Lord of Lies, they told us stories about him in church. They said he never says the truth, and he always tries to get people to do what he wants, even if they think they're doing what they want."

"You're a well educated girl," Willow grinned, "is there anything you don't know?"

"Granny told me I should learn as much as I can," Amalee said proudly, "because you never know when it's going to come in useful."

"I can read and write," Amalee went on, "and granny was teaching me to speak Khejan."

"Wow, you are smart," Willow said, reflecting that it wasn't uncommon even now for children in rural communities to learn only simple reading and writing.

"Right, where was I? Oh yes, Belial... see, Belial knew that Goreth had the potential to be a very powerful mage, but he also knew he was impatient. He promised that he'd give Goreth all the power he wanted in exchange for Goreth agreeing to serve him, not his Order, and Goreth agreed."

"Dummy," Amalee interjected. "I wouldn't have agreed to that. It doesn't matter how powerful you are if you're not good. I'd have studied properly and become a good wizard."

"I know honey," Willow said fondly. 'I wouldn't be too surprised if you did, one day,' she thought to herself.

"Well, Belial wanted to use Goreth to get rid of the other mages, because without them he'd be able to become much more powerful. He gave Goreth the power to get inside the minds of other demons, like goblins, and make them do what he wanted, and Goreth assembled a big army and built a fortress out in the desert, called Sankira. And when he was finished building it, Belial gave Goreth a very powerful kind of dark magic, bound in a weapon called a rod of command."

"That's right," Willow said, "he had a rod, too. Only we don't have to worry about it any more, his rod's been destroyed, and he's gone."

"Does it make people go strange like everyone did at the village?" Amalee asked. "Like, they didn't see or hear anything?"

"It can," Willow said, "what it does is it lets the person using the rod command the people he uses it on. It means they can't fight back."

"Oh," Amalee said with a scowl, "that's not fair... a good person wouldn't use a weapon like that."

"No," Willow agreed sadly, "but Goreth wasn't a good person. He took the rod and poured all his power into it, made it... like his own personal magic wand. Whenever he cast a spell he did it using the rod, and it made his magic more powerful, and more evil. And all the people in the city near Sankira were very afraid, because they knew that their soldiers wouldn't be able to fight back if Goreth attacked them."

"There was," Willow said with a smile, "there was a group of sorceresses traveling through the desert-"

"The same Order as me, yes," Willow said, "but sorceresses were different back then, they traveled in secret, so their enemies wouldn't know about them. Goreth thought they were just a normal caravan and sent his demons to attack them. When the sorceresses used their magic to defend themselves, Goreth used the rod to stop them. And it worked, all except for one little girl, about your age, who the sorceresses had been taking to be trained as one of them. The rod didn't affect her, and when she saw all the other sorceresses stop fighting, she grabbed one of their staves and used it to cast firebolts at the demons."

"Yes she did," Willow nodded, "the demons in Goreth's army had never had anyone stand up to them, and when that little girl fought back, they were so afraid that they ran away."

"Goreth saw all his demons running away, and he got very angry. He raged at all his demons and called them useless and cowards, and then he set his own magic against the little girl to defeat her. But the rod still didn't affect her, and every time he tried to command her nothing happened. And he tried every spell he could, but because he'd put all his magic into the rod, none of his spells would affect her either. He got so angry from trying to defeat her that he came out of his fortress, came right up to her, standing right in front of her, trying to cast spells on her. And do you know what she did?"

"She aimed her staff and cast a firebolt right at the rod," Willow said, "and the rod shattered into a million pieces. And because Goreth had put all his power into it, all his magic was shattered as well, and his fortress crumbled into the sand, and his demons fled, and all the people he'd commanded were set free, and he was never able to cast a single spell ever again. All because of that little girl."

"She was called Esara," Willow said, "she studied with the sorceresses and became very powerful herself eventually, and she had a lot of adventures."

"Well, it's very difficult for a demon to make a rod of command," Willow explained, "and it takes a long time, which is why they only make them and give them to people when they're very sure it won't be destroyed. For all his power, Belial hadn't been able to foresee that that little girl would be able to resist the rod's magic and destroy it. My Order does its best to keep track of what demons are up to, so we can stop them, and from what we know, even now, hundreds of years later, Belial still hasn't made a new rod."

"I don't know honey," Willow said gently, "no-one knows why the rod's magic didn't work on her. But I'll tell you this: I'm sure you're a very special girl, and you're going to achieve something wonderful one day."

The path wound through the trees, occasionally edging away from the stream to go around a clump of trunks, so that a wagon or cart could follow it, but never straying far. Tara strained her senses to their limit as the forest became more dense, trying to pinpoint movements or sounds. She was sure there was something in the forest with them, but she didn't think it, or they, were aware of her, Willow and Amalee. Willow was moving with admirable care, leaving little trace of her passage and making even less noise as she picked her way through the fallen leaves and occasional branches that littered the path. Tara wondered if she somehow did it unconsciously, or if she had been taught how to move stealthily – if so, certainly by Ember, and they both owed her their thanks. Amalee was doing as well as could be expected – Tara guessed her father had taught her how best to move, perhaps to avoid attracting the attentions of wild animals on their journeys. She was sure-footed, and barely made more noise than Willow, only occasionally brushing a leafy branch from a bush in passing, and even then never a brittle one that might snap or snag on her clothes.

"The clearing's up ahead," Tara overheard her whisper to Willow, and at the same moment a chill ran down her spine.

"Willow," she said softly. Willow gently drew Amalee to a halt, keeping hold of her hand, and looked back at Tara.

"I can't be sure," Tara said with a frown, "but I've got a very bad feeling... there's something in this forest that shouldn't be here."

"Maybe, but it's more... it's as if the land has been twisted, the rhythms are wrong. There's small movements, like animals but more fearful, the birds are flying in strange patterns, the sounds are... everything's just wrong," she finished with a shrug, "I'm sorry, I can't be more specific, I've never felt anything quite like this before."

"It's okay," Willow said, "I recognize it. There's demons here, and they've affected the land, their energy seeps from them into the ground and affects everything."

"It's interfering with my senses," Tara said, "it's difficult for me to tell exactly what's around us. I'm sure there's something here, I can't tell what exactly..." She glanced down at Amalee, who was absorbing all this with stern calm.

"It's okay sweetie," she said soothingly, "we'll protect you, whatever it is." The girl nodded, accepting Tara's assurance without question, and despite her concern Tara was both touched by Amalee's faith in her and Willow, and impressed at her calm in a frightening situation.

"I'm almost certain it's dangerous," she went on to Willow, "more than just animals like that blood hawk thing. Carvers, perhaps, or maybe something else. Damn, it's all distorted," she exclaimed quietly, frowning at herself.

"It's okay," Willow repeated, "tainted land is difficult for anyone, even a trained mage with years of experience, a-and you're probably still sensing a lot more than I am."

"I'm not sure if it knows we're here," Tara admitted, allowing Willow's words to soothe her frustration somewhat.

"Well if it does, I'm sure we'll find out soon enough," Willow said with a wry grimace. "We'll get through it."

"Yeah," Tara agreed, gripping her spear. They set off again, at a slower pace, now always cautious of what might be around the next bend in the path, or lurking behind the trees and bushes.

"Keep hold of my hand, honey," Willow said to Amalee, "if anything happens I'm going to cast a spell around us, but you have to be holding my hand for it to work."

"I don't want it to startle you," Willow went on, "you'll feel cold, and you'll see a sort of whitish-blue mist around you, like it's clinging to your body, so don't be afraid, that's just my magic. It's called a chill armor, it's what sorceresses use to protect themselves." She glanced back at Tara, and added quietly: "I can cast it around you, too."

"Take care of her," Tara said with a nod at Amalee, "I should be okay. If I need help- "

"If anything sudden happens," Willow said, "like a fire spell, or arrows, I can do a flash-freeze armor around all three of us. It'll only last a few seconds, but it'll shield us against pretty much anything short of a catapult shot." Tara nodded.

They walked further, with the sun setting behind them, casting a red glow through the thick branches of the trees and giving the forest an eerie twilight quality. Tara became very aware suddenly of the stillness around them, as it seemed that all the tiny creatures of the forest were burrowing down and staying hidden in the fading light. Willow drew her attention to the trunk of a nearby tree.

"Those scratches," she pointed out, "too high for a Carver." The trunk was scratched in a crude pattern, two vertical marks and a series of horizontal lines crossing them. Tara glanced around as they went on, and noticed others here and there, different variations on the same patterns, and always with the same symbol underneath, a triangle pointing downwards, the scratches forming it continuing on after meeting at the shape's points, giving it a savage, jagged look.

"Do you recognize that?" Tara asked. Willow had seen the common marking too, and shook her head.

"Too generic," she said, "it could be any of a hundred things, depending on what made it. I don't think it's human, though."

"I will," she promised, frightened but controlling it admirably. "The clearing's after this next boulder."

They rounded the boulder, and Tara gasped quietly at the sight that awaited them. From the edge of the stream to the north, the trees gave way to the clearing for about fifty feet before closing in again, and those nearest the open ground had been decorated by more scratches, some even with reddish mud smeared on for effect, or branches nailed in place to create rough symbols, the inverted triangle being common. At the bases of the trunks lay various animal carcasses, in varying states of decay, some rotten and blackened, others still fresh. There were even a few primitive weapons here and there, spears and long two-handed axes, their blades dented and stained with blood.

All of this was just background, however, for the great monolith that stood upright in the center of the clearing. One side of it was smooth – Tara saw long gouges in the ground where it had been dragged from the stream – the rest of it was old, weather-worn and rugged, like a remnant of some old, broken mountain. For all of its fifteen-foot height it was decorated with savage icons painted in black mud or, Tara suspected, blood, and all over it was festooned with rotting ropes made inexpertly from vines and creepers, circling it like gaudy, horrible decorations, and from them hung dozens of skulls, human and animal, along with bones, broken tools and weapons, and pieces of armor.

"What the hell is that," she whispered half to herself, frozen in her tracks for a moment, Willow and Amalee likewise awed and horrified at the sight of the huge stone.

"Herd-stone," Willow said darkly, her voice trembling, "this is a goat-man camp, that's like the symbol of their clan, their strength... we have to get out of here!" Tara agreed, but the three of them had barely taken their first strides towards the stream before there arose a crashing from all around them, as heavy, strong bodies smashed their way through the forest towards them. Tara spun around, placing herself between Willow and the nearest sound in the sudden chaos, glimpsing out of the corner of her eye the blue flash of Willow casting an armor, but before she could find a target it seemed that the threat was closer behind them, and she turned again, spear aimed. Willow likewise had her staff raised, cradled in the elbow of one arm like a crossbow while her other hand held Amalee's, keeping her between them. As dark shapes began to loom through the sun-reddened forest, the three of them backed towards the herd-stone, circling warily, waiting for the first attack.

"Keep the stone behind you honey," Willow said urgently, edging in front of Amalee as they ran out of room to retreat. Tara glanced at her, now side by side, and saw fright and determination in her eyes.

"We'll protect you, sweetie," she said to Amalee, who was trembling visibly, her knuckles white around Willow's hand. "Damn it," she swore under her breath, looking back out into the churning forest, "they knew we were here and I couldn't sense it."

"Don't blame yourself," Willow said, and with a glance Tara could tell that, given the time, she would have spared no effort to calm her and ease away her frustration and the slight gnawing guilt. But they had no time, so all Willow could do was offer the few, simple words, and a look that spoke volumes. Tara set her shoulders and faced the oncoming enemy.

The goat-men made no effort, now that their trap was sprung, to conceal their presence. Bushes were shoved aside, branches snapped and the dry kindling underfoot was crunched and broken by their hooves. As one they seemed to step out of the trees into the waning light, at least twenty of them by Tara's count, carrying huge axes, halberds, heavy-tipped spears – long, heavy weapons, designed for smashing and tearing. Their eyes blazed with hatred of all things living, and the thick muscles in their arms flexed, making the patches of fur covering their upper bodies bristle. They gave no thought to care or caution in their advance, some walking straight through the discarded carcasses at the edge of the clearing, smearing blood and entrails across the dirt with their hooves, a couple even kicking aside the weapons lying unused at their feet. Their attention was wholly on the intruders standing against their stone, and the only caution in them came from the dim recognition of the weapons they held, which checked their charge, bringing them to a halt barely meters away. Some of them glanced from side to side at their companions, assessing their strength and finding it overwhelming, and they began to stir and growl, some taking a step or two further forward.

"How many can you take at once?" Willow whispered, so softly Tara could barely hear.

"Three," Tara said, "maybe four." She knew it wasn't enough, that the moment either of them attacked the goat-men would all charge, and after that first attack – a blast of lightning from her spear, and cold from Willow – it would become a bloody melee, in which their chances of keeping Amalee safe and protected were remote to say the least. 'Our chances of just surviving aren't great either,' she admitted to herself, though at least she gave them a chance. Willow was fast, and had her chill armor, and Tara knew she was good enough to defend herself, and in a close fight, against real fighters, rather than untrained farmers, the goat-men's numbers would be as often a hindrance as a benefit to them, getting in each other's way as they swung and charged. But the thought of them surviving such a bloody, hard-fought battle, probably both wounded, certainly exhausted, and having to look to the ground and see a tiny, fragile little body that should have been full of life and joy made still and lifeless... Tara honestly couldn't imagine how she could cope with such a failure.

A bellow made her and Willow both jump, and even the goat-men seemed apprehensive, milling around, looking about themselves rather than at their prey. Opposite Willow and Tara the demons shuffled aside, leaving a path for one more of their number to step out of the forest and confront them. It was no ordinary specimen of its kind, however. Standing a full head taller than its minions – for they were clearly subordinate to it, even feared it, to judge by their attitude – the goat-lord was a massive, terrible figure, its broad, muscled chest decorated with crude patterns of self-inflicted scars, as well as the marks of countless battles, its arms clad in rags and tatters of chain- mail and armor plates, bound on by straps wound around them, its legs long, thick and covered in matted, oily fur. The horns that grew from its head were longer than those of its fellows, coiled around and marked with black mud-paint, their tips bound crudely in iron, hammered on and sealed with long bolts driven into the horn, ending in barbed points. One eye was missing, the flesh of its cheek stretched across the cavity in a great mass of scarred skin, and its brow still held the end of the deep gash that had caused the loss. It opened its jaws, revealing flat, black-stained teeth, and roared again, this time producing something that was barely recognizable as speech of some primitive kind, and it flourished its weapons, a pair of double-headed axes, each held in massive hands with thick fingers and cracked, blackened nails.

"It said its clan is going to eat us," Willow replied, too soft for Amalee to hear.

"Uh-huh," Tara said. She glanced from side to side, seeing nothing but savage goat- men glaring at her as far as she could see, with the stone blocking her view to the far side of the clearing behind them. She tightened her grip on her spear, and turned back to face the goat-lord.

"Sorry," Willow said, and even now there was a note of rueful humor in her voice – it gave Tara a flush of courage – "goat-men don't do honorable combat, they're just all going to attack us at once. You give the leader your best shot, I'll try to keep the others at bay for a second or two."

"Willow," Tara said, her mind whirling as a sudden idea came to her, "when I say, cast the strongest armor you can around all three of us."

"Trust me," Tara said. Without further hesitation, Willow shifted her staff, holding it in her elbow, freeing her other hand to hold the hand Tara offered her. Tara's lips moved silently, reciting an ancient Amazonian prayer, one from darker times in their history when hope was scarce, and what a warrior prayed for was not peace or tranquility, but the strength to slay anything that dared darken the lands of her loved ones.

'Goddess Zerae,' she thought to herself, letting her lips recite the ritual prayer by instinct, and hoping the demons would hesitate for just a few seconds, to give her time, 'goddess of storms, grant me your power, show your anger at these creatures who defile the land, who threaten my love, who would take the life of a child. Goddess of vengeance, for what this foulness has wrought, let the power of the storm cleanse them from the world.' At the same time she concentrated on her focus like never before, willing her weapon into an instrument of magic, crafting the shape of the power that she hoped would come, giving it form and purpose. She had never before called on Zerae as goddess of vengeance – the form of the goddess she admired was that of a bringer of justice, a judge whose power saw that the doers of evil never escaped the consequences of their acts, but now she thought of the destroyed villages, the dead, and the innocent, brave child whose whole life had been torn away from her, and she called on her goddess to show them the pain they had caused. She even allowed herself a tiny grin as she felt the power begin to flow, the first tiny crack open between her mortal world and the realm beyond.

"Now," she said to Willow, and held up her spear. Willow's hand in hers tightened, and an intense burst of blue light flashed before her eyes, and she felt a deep cold settle over her, like being suddenly immersed in freezing water. She had only a brief instant to wonder at the power Willow commanded before her own power was upon her, the red- tainted clouds above darkening and swirling into a vortex in the space of a heartbeat. Tara felt the first surge, and a bolt of energy leapt from her spear, straight up into the storm – that itself was more powerful than anything she had felt before – and on its heels, racing down the corridor the first blast had torn through the air, a thunderbolt of immense power, lighting the forest clearing like day, touching the silver tip of her spear for just a second before leaping from it into the herd-stone.

"Down!" Tara yelled, in the split second before a massive, thunderous crack obliterated all other sounds. She felt Willow hit the ground beside her as she threw herself down, and Amalee was lying flat against her leg, the intense chill of Willow's spell still covering them.

The herd-stone exploded with shattering force, casting jagged shrapnel, white-hot and steaming, all around itself. The mass of goat-men roared and collapsed as one, the lucky ones merely stunned and burned by the sudden blast of super-heated air, others suddenly torn apart by spinning fragments of rock, legs cut from beneath them, arms severed, bodies punched open and heads smashed to bloody pulps. Tara felt impacts on her back, but no pain – Willow's magic kept the whirling fragments of rock from doing any harm to them. As the thunderbolt faded away the air was filled with a din of braying and roaring, pain and anger mixed together, and above it all the voice of the goat-lord, a bellow of pure rage.

Tara squeezed Willow's hand for reassurance, and got shakily to her feet. The intense magic had weakened her momentarily, but she summoned her own strength as best she could, holding her spear in a firm, unwavering grip, aiming the point out around her at the demons staggering back to their hooves. Several lay unmoving, and most of those who rose were wounded, but still the fire burned in their eyes, and they tightened their grips on their weapons, ignoring the pain from shattered bones and torn flesh. When they looked up at the remnants of the stone, now a shattered stump, making little crackling noises as it cooled, and saw Tara, they hesitated.

'Thank all the gods,' Tara thought, intensely relieved, as for a moment she had wondered if the creatures were even able to feel fear. She raised her spear, and called on the tiny amount of magic left to her in her exhausted state, forcing a grim smile to her face as a ripple of lightning ran down the shaft and over the blade. She glared as formidably as she could muster, and released the energy. A bolt leapt from the point of the spear into the air ahead of her, dissipating quickly, but it was enough. With a clamor of howling, the goat-men fell back, turned, and ran. The goat-lord turned in dismay, bellowing at its fellows, but they paid it no heed as they crashed into the forest, shoving each other out of their way, collapsing and scrambling back upright, escape the only thought in their bestial minds. Finally only the goat-lord remained, roaring in rage at the flight of its clan, a huge gash in its stomach pumping blood, its face marred by a new wound across its cheek, one horn a broken stump, but the rage in its eyes when it turned on Tara was undiluted. Tara braced herself to receive his charge, praying for whatever power she could summon, when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

"I've got him," Willow said grimly, stepping in front of her. She walked out towards the towering goat-lord, circling to one side to draw him away from Tara and Amalee, who scrambled up behind Tara, clutching her waist, her eyes wide, fixed on Willow and the demon. Willow brandished her staff, which was turning dark, icy ripples running across a shaft that suddenly seemed much older and harder than mere wood. The goat- lord glared at her, took a step towards her – 'Careful, Willow,' Tara prayed – then hesitated, and looked back towards the other two humans in its domain.

"Hey!" Willow yelled. "Over here!" The goat-lord seemed undecided, looking dazedly between her and Tara. Willow glanced at Tara desperately as the huge demon took a step towards her and Amalee, then looked back at it.

"Soh cha beh!" she yelled at the top of her voice. The goat-lord jerked as if it had been struck, and seemed to forget anything but Willow existed, roaring and brandishing its two axes in a display of undiluted rage. Willow held her staff ready, the icy mist of her armor covering her body, and nodded deliberately as the beast stared at her.

The goat-lord roared again and lifted the larger of its axes, plainly intending to smash Willow out of existence with a single blow. Tara saw Willow anticipate the attack and tense to avoid it, but still her heart leapt into her throat as the huge, battered blade swung down. Willow darted back out of its path and swung her staff, and for the briefest instant, just as the staff passed by the axe blade, the mist around it coalesced into a glimmering, icy blade on its end, like a pole-axe. The two blades struck together with a shattering clang, the ice-blade dissolving out of existence even as it broke against the iron, but Willow had a mildly triumphant expression, and the goat-lord howled in pain, hurling away its axe, which had turned white with frost. The weapon shattered as it hit the ground, and the demon flexed its hand, which steamed with cold, tiny fragments of skin blistering and cracking off, revealing frost-bitten blood underneath.

The goat-lord swung its other axe, but it apparently had the wit to learn from its mistakes, and jerked the blade out of the way as Willow again dodged and drove her staff at it. Willow didn't check her pace, instead continuing her missed swing, spinning in place, and whipping the end of her staff at the demon. The icy axe-blade flew free and shattered against its bicep, leaving a gash of frost, twisted armor and icy shards buried in flesh.

'Careful Willow!' Tara silently pleaded, as the massive creature went berserk with rage, charging her heedless of the injury, both arms swinging wildly. Willow danced out of the way – Tara recognized the fluidity of movement born of long hours of training, and thanked the Zann Esu for not neglecting the more physical aspects of combat – and aimed her staff as the demon thundered past her, the mist around its tip crystallizing into bolt after bolt of ice that pounded against the goat-lord's tough hide, denting and buckling the scraps of metal covering its shoulders and arms, tearing at its exposed flesh wherever they found it. The beast was slowing, but it seemed to be oblivious to its wounds as it turned back towards Willow, swinging its remaining axe at her in a slow but devastating arc. Willow ducked and rolled out of the way, managing to keep her staff aimed all the while, maintaining the bombardment of ice that staggered and infuriated the demon.

"Stand back sweetie," Tara said to Amalee, feeling her strength return as the after- effects of her magic began to wear off. She planted her spear in the ground beside her and drew her bow, summoning what power she could – her ability to focus was still limited – aiming at the goat-lord's massive neck.

"Willow!" she called, choosing her time, when Willow could afford a quick glance at her without putting herself in danger.

"Fire away!" Willow replied, ducking back. She kept hold of her staff with one hand, the bolts merging into a jet of freezing mist that blinded the roaring goat-lord, and with her free hand reached to her belt and drew something from a pouch. She tossed it towards the demon – Tara had a brief glimpse of a tiny shard of ice spinning through the air – then the bowstring whipped its arrow forward, the arrowhead bursting into flame as it flew. The shot wasn't perfect – the goat-lord was reeling around, and caught the impact on its shoulder rather than in the neck – but the magic was stronger than Tara had hoped for, and a burst of angry flame tore out of the arrow as it struck, scorching the demon's skin and burning its fur. An instant later the shard Willow had thrown was enveloped in the fire, and the goat-lord was hurled back to its knees by a blast of ice, an unearthly explosion in cold blue hues.

Willow leapt forward before the beast could recover and slammed the end of her staff into its chest, impaling it on four razor-sharp points that appeared around the shaft an instant before it struck. The goat-lord howled in pain and reared up, raising its axe to strike down at her, but its strength failed and the heavy weapon toppled from its hand. Tara could already see patches of frozen white blossom from beneath its skin around the impact of the staff. It raised its other hand, grabbing the staff, trying to pull the weapon out of its body, but the instant its fingers closed around the shaft they too began to turn white and brittle. The goat-lord turned its mad, uncomprehending gaze on Willow as its wrist broke, leaving the fragments of its hand to shower to the ground and it jerked away the icy stump, and then the frost was racing over its body, blooming from within it all down its torso, along its limbs, and up its neck. It opened its mouth for one last bellow of fury, but its voice was cut off, frozen as was the rest of it. Willow jerked her staff back, leaving the demon a still, silent form of pure ice. She adjusted her grip and swung one last time, the end of her staff cracking against the demon's frozen head, smashing into it and toppling the lifeless ice of its body. The goat-lord's final fate was to shatter against the ground, scattering into a heap of shards which lay silent, slowly melting in the last rays of the sun.

For a moment everything was still, then Willow turned towards Tara and Amalee, and Tara realized it was over, and ran to her side, barely remembering to snatch her spear from the ground as she went. They embraced tightly, almost desperately, burying their faces in each other's hair and taking heaving gasps of air, between relief and sobbing. They looked down as a small pair of arms went around them both, and they sank to their knees, including Amalee in their hug. Tara finally lifted her head to look at Willow, overjoyed but also worried, sensing the exhaustion in her.

"Just a bit of magic drain," she said with a grin, "I'll be fine. It'll wear off in a few minutes..." she yawned, "...I don't usually cast that many spells so quickly. You?"

"Okay," Tara smiled, "same as you, tired from the magic, but getting better." She looked at Amalee. "Are you okay sweetie?"

"Yes," the girl nodded, a stunned expression on her face. "Is the beast-man dead?"

"Good," Amalee said with a relieved smile, hugging them both again. Willow smiled at Tara, then glanced around.

"Ready when you are," Tara said, "rest a moment, though, wait until you're recovered."

"I'm okay," Willow insisted gently, "I was always quick at recovery. It'll probably be a few minutes before I could do all that again, of course, but it's not like walking's strenuous, and I kind of think we should get out of here."

"Me neither," Tara said with a grin. "Okay, let's see how far we can get before the sun sets completely."

Tara helped Willow to her feet, which wasn't strictly necessary – true to her word, Willow was recovering from her magic with impressive speed – but she didn't protest being helped up, nor when Tara held on to her for a moment, gently touching her lips to Willow's cheek. Amalee dutifully took Willow's hand as they crossed the clearing, and allowed Tara to carry her as they crossed the shallow stream, to keep her thin boots from getting soaked. She pointed out the start of the trail that ran by the north side of the stream, and the three set off with the setting sun on their backs.

"Are you sure you're okay, honey?" Willow asked Amalee tentatively. The girl seemed absorbed in her thoughts, a marked contrast to the inquisitive enthusiasm she had shown earlier in the day. Tara wondered how many nights she would wake from nightmares because of what they had gone through. Amalee looked at Willow, paused in thought, then smiled faintly.

"I'm okay," she nodded, "I was frightened when all the beast-men came out of the forest, but I'm not now. You beat them, just like the heroes in stories." She paused again, glancing away in thought, and when she looked back at Willow her eyes had regained their curious gleam.

"What did you say to the beast-man to make him angry?" she asked. Willow spared Tara a glance, sharing her relief that Amalee had accepted their escape – victory, perhaps – without being too troubled by the prospect of what might have happened.

"Um," Willow looked sheepish, "well, assuming I got the language right, and I think I did, given how he reacted... I called him a woman." She looked vaguely embarrassed. "Not that I think that's an insult, no way, but goat-men are kind of fixated on pure physical strength a-and masculinity, some of the texts I've read suggest that they don't think women are capable of fighting, really, and basically for a goat-man fighting is all that there is in life, so because of that they think women aren't really 'real' people... I kind of hazarded a guess that taking a stab at his masculinity would annoy him..."

"He did, didn't he?" Willow agreed. "Probably half of it was from Tara defeating the rest of the clan, I think seeing them get decimated by someone they wouldn't have considered a 'proper' warrior, well, that put him in a bad mood." She smiled at Amalee, and then glanced over her head at Tara and mouthed 'really pissed off'. Tara laughed quietly to herself.

"Maybe," Willow guessed, "but then again, goat-men are pretty thick, so maybe they'll just get confused and forget it ever happened."

"I'm not going to forget it," Amalee said vehemently, "when we get to the city I'm going to tell my uncle and everyone else all about it, how you weren't afraid of them at all, and how you," she looked at Tara, "made the lightning strike and blew up the lot of them, and how you," she looked back to Willow, "fought the biggest beast-men and froze him and how you," to Tara, "shot him with the fire arrow, and it went boom and there was all ice and fire and..." she paused. "I'll write it down properly so everyone knows how it was," she promised.

"I saw a bard once," Amalee said, "he told stories about the old wizards and heroes and how they defeated the demons in the big war a long time ago. But he couldn't have seen it for himself, because no-one could live that long. I bet he just heard the stories and remembered them, and then told them like he was there. But I'll tell stories about you that I actually saw, because I was there when you defeated all the demons."

"I was worried," Tara admitted quietly, "I mean, I was worried about all of us, but especially her, having to go through that... I don't know how I feel about being a 'hero', but it's probably good for her to think of it all like that."

"Well, I know how I feel about you being a hero," Willow smiled, "I feel very, very proud of you."

"You too," Tara replied warmly. "We should go on as long as we can," she went on, her expression becoming more serious, "the goat-men that got away will probably be scattered for a while, but if they're as single-minded as you describe them..."

"Yep," Willow agreed, "they'll regroup before long. It'd be best if we're way away from here before that happens. Probably, with fewer of them, and no leader, we could fight them off again, but I'd rather not have to."

"There'll be enough moonlight for me to see well tonight," Tara said, glancing up at the scattered clouds in the darkening sky, "if you wear the amulet, we could both keep going well into the night."

"What about Amalee?" Willow asked, keeping her voice down so the girl wouldn't overhear and insist she could manage. "She won't be able to keep walking that long..."

"I'll carry her," Tara said, surprising Willow, "I've been trained for long distances, remember? She's not that heavy, and some of the training I did was carrying extra loads, just to get used to it. Just promise me you'll give my arms a massage when we stop?"

"I'm feeling pretty good," Willow said, "a bit tired, okay, but you know, after the drain wears off, doing magic does kind of give me a boost, like I've gone swimming in cold water. Well, I guess that's not surprising, cold magic and all..."

"Good," Tara said, turning to Amalee, walking in front of them. "Sweetie, we think it'd be good for us to keep going during the night, and try to get to the river in one go. Now I know you're okay to keep up with us-"

"But just in case we need you rested and alert tomorrow, would you let me carry you in a little while, so you can rest a little?"

"Thank you sweetie," Tara smiled. "Well then, we'll keep going as long as we can, and then you can take a nap while I carry you, and we'll keep on to the river. And then, we'll find a safe spot to wait, get on the next boat that passes, and we'll go all the way to the city."

Tara was tired and sore by the time the first glimmers of sunlight spread across the morning sky. Her legs dragged as though she had encased them in heavy iron armor, the soles of her feet were hot and chafing inside her boots despite the soft linings, and her arms, bearing their precious cargo of a restlessly sleeping girl, felt liable to drop off at any moment. Nonetheless, something inside her managed to cause a spark of joy when she and Willow rounded a rise of stony ground that diverted the stream they followed a little way south, and saw the Kingsway river laid out in front of her.

The sunlight, peeking over the flat eastern horizon, was fresh and fiery, casting its hue into the rippling waters of the river and bringing them alive with color. Tara paused for a moment, gazing at the view before her, and glanced sidelong at Willow, who looked as tired as she herself felt. When Willow gave a weary smile back at her, Tara noticed her eyes were still feline.

"Take off the amulet," Tara said quietly, "this is worth seeing in color." Willow gave another smile, this time more at Tara's gentle voice than the relief of seeing the end of their long journey in sight, and undid the delicate chain around her neck.

"Oh wow," she said in a small voice, tired but still with a hint of her usual liveliness, "that's a sight..."

The stream they had followed out of the forest had been joined by many others during the night, swelling to a reasonable size and depth – not a river in its own right, but at least a body of water that it would be impossible to cross without swimming. It snaked down across the last traces of the highlands and joined the Kingsway in a modest delta, its final end concealed by a collection of reeds and long grasses. As they two women walked down towards the riverbank, the sun was still low enough to cast its gleam over the length of the stream, turning it into a trail of gold running through the lush grass.

"How're you feeling?" Willow asked ruefully as they wandered along beside the stream.

"Tired," Tara said honestly, "I could use a bite to eat... I'm not sure my arms are ever going to be the same again," she added with a grin.

"I think your pack's been getting heavier overnight," Willow replied, getting a soft laugh from Tara. Even fatigued as they were, the morning sun was lifting their spirits, the grasses brushing softly against their legs, and the knowledge that rest was near at hand, were giving Willow and Tara a measure of energy.

Just north of the stream's mouth was an old, sturdy pier and a shack. Willow wearily raised her staff just in case, carrying Tara's spear and bow in her other hand, but as they neared it became obvious that there was no danger. The river side of the shack was completely open, revealing nothing lurking inside beyond a couple of old wooden chairs and some boards laid between two short tree stumps, a makeshift bed. The pier started its length on dry land for a few meters, continuing straight as the ground dipped beneath the water, and stretching out several meters into the river, supported by ancient wooden pylons, moss-covered but strong. Without prompting Willow quickened her pace a little, reaching the shack first and sliding Tara's pack from her shoulders. By the time Tara arrived Willow had unrolled their blankets and spread them out on the wooden bed, and Tara gently laid Amalee down on it. She stirred as Tara set her down, and blinked wearily in the sunlight.

"Oh... good..." the girl nodded sleepily. "If there's a boat... the fifth board," she pointed lazily towards the beginning of the pier, "flags... red is for trading... use the white one. It," she paused for another emphatic yawn, "means we want to talk. The boat'll stop for you."

"Get some rest now," Willow smiled, stroking the girl's tangled auburn hair, "we'll wake you when a boat comes along."

"Okay," Amalee agreed, "g'night... thank you..." she added as she drifted off to sleep. Willow and Tara glanced at each other and shared a smile, then Tara looked away down-river.

"Nothing in sight yet," she said, "but with the river traffic we saw at the dock, something should be along before nightfall. One of us should stay awake anyway –."

"Sure," Willow nodded. "I'll wake you after you've had a nap and we can swap. Come on, I'll give you that massage I promised, and you can doze off for a while. It doesn't make sense to do it the other way around, you'd get all relaxed and then have to stay awake."

"Okay," Tara allowed, smiling slightly as she realized she sounded like Amalee, reluctantly giving in to reason when part of her wanted to take all the burden on herself. "I guess I could use it," she added, flexing her arms, "heh, that's odd... my arms feel all springy."

"Yeah?" Willow asked, laying out the last remaining blankets on the soft ground beside the pier for Tara to lie on.

"Well, I've been holding them up against a weight for so long, now they just want to push upwards... I try to relax and they just sort of drift upwards." She demonstrated with a grin, as her arms refused to fall to her sides.

"Lie down, you," Willow said fondly, "let's see what we can do about these tired muscles of yours. It can't be more than a day or two to Duncraig by boat, and you're going to need to be in top condition once we get there."

"I bet there's a big, warm, cozy bed waiting for us," Willow grinned, "and I intend to make full use of it for more than just sleeping."

"Oh..." Tara smiled as she lay down. While she settled herself, Willow peered at the first few boards of the pier, which this far back were laying directly on the ground, and lifted up the edge of the fifth one along. Just as Amalee had said, there were a pair of wooden poles with oilskin wrappings around their tops, and colored material peeking out from underneath, as well as an old, roughly-made fishing rod and a couple of reels of line.

"There's our flags," she noted, turning to Tara, who was lying flat on her stomach, her head tilted sideways to look up at Willow.

"Oh baby, that's an inviting sight," Willow purred, surveying Tara's back and legs. Without quite shaking off her devilish grin she swung herself astride Tara's hips, leaning forward and reaching out to wrap her fingers around Tara's upper arms.

"Ahhhh..." Tara sighed, as Willow's hands went to work, kneading the tired muscles along the length of her arms.

"I read a book about this once," Willow said softly, "see, it's just as well I read so much, isn't it? You never know the kind of useful information I could pick up."

"Mmm," Tara agreed, "useful... and divine... is it some kind of magic?" she asked with a chuckle.

"Don't get too worked up, you're supposed to be relaxing," Willow chided her tenderly. "You've had a big day... and night... hey, I meant to tell you, you were really great back there, during the ambush. All strong and sure and, and powerful... that was some magic you did too, any lightning sorceress would be proud to master a spell like that."

"Yeah, I know, your goddess too," Willow nodded, "but that doesn't mean you weren't amazing. Gods forbid that sort of thing happen to us on a regular basis, but you know, I can't think of anyone, not even the most powerful sorceresses in the Zann Esu, I'd feel safer beside. When you did that spell, the determination, what I saw in your eyes... I knew we'd make it."

"Thank you," Tara murmured, "love... you know, that was... something I've never felt before... and when it was over, the feeling then... oh that's nice," she sighed as Willow squeezed her forearms lovingly, "the feeling when they'd scattered, and you'd defeated the leader... I think maybe I understand how people can choose to live their lives as soldiers, or adventurers... knowing the cause was good... standing there, just you and me, against something evil, and holding it back... quite a feeling."

"Mmm," Tara nodded slightly, "yeah... not that I'd make... a habit of it. Couldn't be a soldier... I couldn't do that, fight like that, unless I chose to... not because of orders... you'd have to," she yawned, "to trust... your commander, completely... to make the right choices... I can only trust... you like that..."

"Thank you, baby," Willow murmured, leaning down to nudge Tara's hair out of her way and place a kiss on the back of her neck. "I trust you too, completely. You know that, don't you?"

"I know," Tara sighed contentedly, "you didn't hesitate... when I told you to cast your armor over us."

"When you say 'trust me', there's nothing to hesitate about. Especially when you say it in that take-charge voice," Willow sighed at the memory, "you know, not that fighting is a good thing, necessary, sure, sometimes, but not what I'd really want to do with my life, or for you to do with yours, but..." she paused, and a smile spread across her face, "the way you were back there, that was actually a bit of a turn on."

"Luckily," Tara murmured, "I don't have to be in a fight to take charge... I can do it just fine in a bed, too..."

"And you know," Tara went on, "when you were fighting the leader..." she looked back at Willow and raised an eyebrow seductively.

"Mmm-hmm," Tara nodded, laying her head back down, "I was worried of course... to see you fighting that thing... frightening... but at the same time... wow..."

"Always wow you," Tara replied sleepily. She lifted her head, with some effort, and glanced over her shoulder as she felt Willow loosen the laces of her armor.

"Relax," Willow said lightly, "I'm just making sure I earn my wow... besides, it's calm here, nothing to threaten us... it's broad daylight and I can see easily a mile back up to the highlands before it gets rough, so nothing can surprise us... and Amalee's fast asleep," she added, checking quickly with a glance over her shoulder. "And you, my luscious Amazon, are lying beneath me, and your skin feels so good underneath my hands... if I didn't get amorous thoughts from a situation like this, something would be wrong with me."

"Uh-huh," Willow agreed, gently sliding the unfastened armor out from beneath Tara, folding the last available blanket over her waist, ready to cover her when she was done. She lay her palms on Tara's naked back and slowly dragged them down to her waist, curling her fingers just enough to scratch lightly on Tara's skin.

"Ohhhh," Tara sighed, "do that again..." Willow complied, earning another dreamy sigh.

"Arms feel good," Tara commented lazily, crossing her forearms beneath her head as a pillow as she relaxed under Willow's hands.

"Good," Willow said, "that just leaves the rest of you..." She leaned down and kissed Tara's back here and there, finally making her way up to Tara's ear while her hands continued to stroke and knead their way around.

"Go to sleep," she whispered, "and dream of what else my hands might do with you."

"You're welcome," Willow said, sensing Tara falling asleep even as she spoke. She continued lovingly stroking her back for some time, occasionally pressing firmly but mostly just enjoying the feel of her, marveling at her perfection and thanking all the gods she could think of that they had come through the nightmare behind them unscathed. Her stroking became lighter until finally she was merely running her fingertips across Tara's skin, and, careful not to disturb the sleeping Amazon, she swung herself off her hips and pulled the blanket up over her back.

"Sleep well," she whispered, "I'll be here when you wake up." She sat for a moment, watching Tara sleep, then with a last smile got up and wandered around a little. She checked on Amalee, who was fast asleep, but with a tiny, worried frown marring her face. Willow sat down beside her and stroked her hair for a moment until the frown disappeared, then got back up, not quite trusting herself to relax for fear she might fall asleep without meaning to. She wandered a little way out onto the pier, where the breeze along the river brushed against her face, making her feel a little more alert. Frequently gazing back at Tara on the grass and Amalee in the little shack, she paced lazily to and fro along the pier's length.

'Not such a bad little adventure, all things considered,' she mused, stepping off the pier for a moment to kneel on the riverbank and splash a little water on her face. 'We're both still in one piece, plus we've got a bunch more blankets, some torches, a couple of books, and hey, an adorable little girl. Considering we started out running for our lives across unknown territory with no time to prepare, things turned out pretty well. Now there's just the vengeful demon queen to worry about.' On that thought, she meandered back to the shack and picked the summoner mage's diary from her satchel, leafing through the pages as she walked back along the pier.

'Okay, we're not in imminent danger, and I'll be damned if I'm waking Tara up before, oh, an hour before midday, she deserves a decent nap. Might as well put this old brain of mine to work. Lemme see...' She found the pages detailing the mage's preparations to summon a storm caster, and took careful note of the equipment he described using, the rituals he prepared, and the steps he took to cast his spell and protect himself.

"How did you contact a demon like Shadai?" she muttered to the book, reading it closely. That had bothered her ever since she and Tara had gone through the mage's room and found out his plans, and the fate that had befallen him, and ultimately driven him to death. 'Mage plans to summon some minor demon to do his foul bidding. Okay, fine, no problem, it's a classic in the ambition-before-wisdom tales. But how do you go from reaching out to a storm caster, a crummy little construct entity that's half-bound to the mortal realm already, to accidentally making contact with one of the most powerful demons in history, trapped in the deepest realms of the burning hells? You can't do that, it takes too much energy... I mean, the summoner in Entsteig turned out to be a Vizjerei prodigy, according to their records he'd been casting twentieth-tier elemental and druidic magic by the time he was five. And this guy here is just some lowly Ennead scholar who was jealous of his masters' powers. If he'd wanted to reach Shadai he shouldn't have been able to, not with twenty years' preparation and a hundred apprentices assisting him.'

She sighed, and remembered one of the lessons Ember had taught her: collect your information first, then form conclusions. She went over the details she had gathered and pieced them together. 'Okay, our guy had the Black Tome, so he knew where to find a fracture point in the mortal realm barriers. Let's see... he used a threefold circle with split points and a pentagram binding pattern, that's all pretty standard for this kind of thing. He had a pair of strangler blossoms, so that might've helped extend the extra-planar range of the spell... let's be generous and say he was aiming for a fifth-tier storm caster, and the spell would've worked... add up the power bases... factor in planetary forces... planar shifts...' She spent a moment doing esoteric magical calculations before reaching her conclusion:

"No way," she said out loud. The conclusions were quite clear – even using the most optimistic projections, the mage should have been absolutely incapable of projecting his spell's energy deep enough into the realms beyond the mortal plane to contact a demon like Shadai. 'Even a demon one-tenth of her power,' Willow mused, 'it's just not possible. What am I missing?'

Another of Ember's teachings came to her. 'If it's not working,' she had said once, speaking about one of Willow's early attempts to decode a manuscript in the Order's vaults, 'remember it doesn't mean you're doing everything wrong. Just one minor detail can upset an otherwise perfect structure of logic. Find the detail, and it'll work.' Just as she had said, Willow had discovered two nights later that her translation notes were partly based on an old Horadrim scroll that, it seemed, had been rewritten itself by a none-too-careful translator at some stage. Once she had discovered that, the manuscript she was working on practically decoded itself.

'Okay then,' she thought, 'let's see what we're basing all this on. Our summoner was in contact with Shadai, do we know this for sure? He called the demon 'Mistress', that means it's a female, and there aren't many. She created a rod of command, only two female demons could do that, and Andariel was soundly defeated during the Reckoning. Let's say we're ninety-nine per cent sure it's Shadai we're dealing with. That's sensible; besides, Andariel is more powerful, that just makes the whole problem more illogical. Okay, our mage was in contact with Shadai, let's call that a fact. That began during his summoning ritual, fact. Therefore the ritual reached Shadai. That's all solid. How could the ritual reach her? A third party boosted the spell? Never heard of anything like that happening. In fact, no, a split-point circle can't be externally influenced without disturbing it and collapsing the spell. Okay, so the ritual must, from our mage alone, have had the power to reach Shadai.

'And that's impossible. What's the detail that's wrong? Our mage had that kind of power? No, if that were true he wouldn't have needed a storm caster, that'd be like a soldier ignoring his sword and searching for a penknife to fight with. Shadai dwells on, what, the fortieth arc of the sixth circle of hell? And this spell, at most, could have reached the first arc of the tenth boundary, not even the first circle. But he reached Shadai. His spell had the range to get to her...' Willow felt a chill race down her spine that had nothing to do with the lively breeze blowing along the river.

'Shadai was within the spell's range. She wasn't where she should be, she was somewhere closer. Some other part of hell, an outer boundary region? No, if a demon is banished, they're banished back to their proper place, that's never failed, not in any banishing that's ever been recorded. So... she wasn't sent back to hell. She wasn't banished!'

'Okay, calm down, think logically,' she admonished herself, 'she's not walking the earth, you know that. People tend to notice a huge demon queen who makes the sky burn and water turn to blood. If she'd escaped from the hospice somehow, we'd all know by now. Something else happened. She wasn't banished, but she didn't escape, she went... somewhere else. Where else can you go?' She paced back and forth, thinking furiously. 'Trans-planar regions? No, too discordant, any consciousness that stayed there for more than a few seconds would be broken apart, and she'd end up being banished back to hell anyway. Dimensional bridging? No, not with a demon, no matter how powerful. Ethereal realms? The ethereal realms,' she fixed on the thought, sensing a possibility, 'it'd be dangerous... the risk of failure, of being banished, maybe even diminished in power as a result... a demon would have to be desperate...'

An image formed in Willow's mind, of Shadai in the hospice, roaring in desperate rage as her form was torn apart by fire, ice and lightning. A demon bent on inflicting pain and torment on the living, bound in hell for centuries upon centuries, brought to the mortal plane against all odds, and facing banishment before the last strands of her summoning spell had even worn off.

'Yeah, she was desperate enough,' Willow thought glumly. She glanced at Tara, sleeping peacefully on the grass. 'Oh damn, I have to tell her, don't I? Damn it, of course I have to tell her, she's not a child. I can at least let her sleep, though, and tell her when I wake her later. No sense disturbing her now, a couple of hours won't make a difference. It's not like there's anything we can do about it now, except get to Duncraig and contact the Order, and whatever mages they have there.' She sighed, and returned to her pacing, nonetheless trying to work out what rituals would need to be done, how Shadai might safely be found and banished properly, what complications would arise from trying to deal with a demon trapped in an ethereal realm compared to one clad in flesh and blood.

Tara stirred and woke slowly, smiling at the feel of Willow's hand against her cheek. She leaned her head sideways to kiss her palm, then opened her eyes and blinked in the light from the sun, now high in the sky.

"I can see a sail off to the south," Willow said as Tara rolled over and sat up, forgetting she was half-naked until the blanket fell off her.

"Wha? Oh... yeah, yeah, heading up river, it'll be here in maybe ten minutes or so," Willow said, recovering from her distraction and forcing her eyes up from Tara's breasts to her face. Tara smiled slyly and demurely held the blanket over her chest, reaching her other arm around Willow's shoulders to draw her close for a kiss. Willow, already distracted, forgot everything for a moment as Tara's lips opened hers, and both enjoyed the kiss wholeheartedly until Tara finally leaned back a fraction.

"I was a little sleepy before," she purred, "did I remember to tell you I love you?"

"I love you too," Willow said. "Oh," she realized, "heh, that proves it, you really do make my brain switch off when you kiss me, I forgot completely... anyway, I'd better tell you before we wake Amalee, it's not really happy news."

"Um, I was doing some thinking," Willow explained, "about the mage and Shadai, and how they were able to do what they did, you remember I was saying it shouldn't have been possible... well, I figured out how to explain it..."

Tara listened carefully as Willow outlined her theory, and even as Willow felt mostly regret at having to burden her with the knowledge that all was not well, she was nonetheless impressed at how easily she seemed to grasp the mechanics of summoning and banishing as they were explained to her.

"Okay," Tara said when Willow had finished, "so Shadai is in an ethereal realm. You said trapped?"

"Yeah," Willow nodded, "yeah, if she could get out she would have, and everything would be, you know, world-wide chaos and destruction, the dead rising, demons marching to war... it'd make the last few days look like a holiday, so yeah, I figure whatever realm she hid in, she's stuck there until someone else breaks her free. Which is what Hydris tried to do, and what the mage at the monastery was going to do."

"And that summoning would be much easier than summoning Shadai from hell?" Tara asked.

"Oh yeah," Willow agreed grimly, as Tara, now fully-dressed, walked with her to the end of the pier, where Willow held up the white flag in the breeze for the distant boat to see.

"Yeah, in dimensional terms, the ethereal planes are right next door to us," she went on, "summoning something out of them is... well, it's tricky, but it takes expertise, not power. Most mages could learn how to do it, if they wanted to. It's just that normally the ethereal realms don't have anything in them that anyone would want to summon – not that anyone in their right mind would want to summon anything, I mean, but... well, it's just disembodied anger and misery. It's happened now and then that a disreputable mage would summon and bind a specter or a wraith, which live in the ethereal realms, to guard their secrets from intruders, but they're pretty unreliable, difficult to really control, not very bright... prone to not noticing things happening around them. If you're lucky, you could walk right through a wraith without it noticing, they're pretty crude consciousnesses."

"But now Shadai is trapped in an ethereal realm," Tara said, "that's how she snared the mages we've encountered?"

"Probably," Willow said, "a summoning, for a storm caster for example, would reach through the ethereal realms to the planes beyond, and eventually to the various regions of hell. So... well, in spiritual terms, she's got a big rope trap out waiting for any fool who tries to summon anything, and when she catches someone, she tries to bend them to her will, and make them summon her."

"What can we do?" Tara asked, her face hardening into the determination that Willow was coming to recognize, and put much of her faith in.

"Here and now, nothing," she said, "but when we get to Duncraig I'll talk to their mages, and send messages as fast as I can to the Order. They'll start working on detection spells, to find out where exactly she is – if no-one's sensed her presence, that means she's hiding pretty deep – and once they find her, probably a bunch of the most powerful sorceresses will work together on a banishing. The Vizjerei will work on it as well, and the other clans. The clans don't always get along, but when it comes to demons we all know which side we're on."

"Yes and no," Willow said with a miserable shrug, "judging by what's happened so far, Shadai can't actually reach out into the world and do anything by herself, so we're safe from her directly. But there's always a couple of idiots in far-flung places dabbling in summoning. As long as this goes on, any one of them could reach her, and bring her back. And," she paused and looked sadly at Tara, "it does kind of seem that whenever that happens, they're going to come after me." Tara quickly wrapped her in a tight hug, pressing herself against Willow.

"We'll be okay," she whispered in her ear, "we've survived so far, and now we know what we're up against, and we're just a couple of days away from the biggest city in Westmarch. She won't get you Willow, I promise you that." She pulled back just far enough to meet Willow's gaze.

"You're mine," she said tenderly, "and I'm yours, I'm not complete without you. There's no way I'm going to let some horrible bitch of a demon take you away from me. I promise."

"I..." Willow hesitated, heartened by Tara's words, yet still distraught. "How do you do that? How can you make me feel safe when there's this, this thing out there, waiting for a chance to get at me? Oh gods, this is... it's not fair, you don't deserve this... hell, I don't deserve this, we don't..."

"No, we don't," Tara agreed, "but this is what we've got, so we'll deal with it together."

"Because I have you," Tara said gently, "no matter what happens, I have you. It'll be alright," she soothed Willow, hugging her again, "we're not alone... we'll have your Order, and the other mages, all of them with us, working to defeat her and send her back to hell where she'll never be able to hurt us again." She smiled, then laughed joyously.

"What?" Willow said, grinning despite herself. It felt good, no matter what, to hear Tara laugh.

"This is it," Tara said, "don't you see? We didn't know why she was causing all this, how she was reaching us, but now we know how to stop it!"

"You're... you're right," Willow said with a sheepish smile, "gods, I didn't think... we can put a stop to it. You're right, it's a good thing. Definitely a good thing." She wiped her tears away and smiled properly, then she hugged Tara again, and kissed her passionately, feeling her heart lift at the prospect of an end to their troubles. Tara leaned back against one of the pier's upright pylons, fully enjoying the feeling of Willow sucking on her lip, darting her tongue into her mouth, kissing her way across her cheek and finally licking and sucking her earlobe.

"Mmm... oh," Tara sighed as Willow's tongue flicked against her ear, "oh baby... okay, gotta stop now," she panted, "boat'll be here soon... any more and I'm going to drag you into the long grass right now..." Willow leaned back with a thoroughly gleeful smile on her face.

"And that's after more than a full day on my feet," Willow replied, "just imagine what I'll be like fully rested and ready to play."

"If I imagine that I don't think I'll be able to stay standing up," Tara said, reaching out to give Willow a squeeze on her hip. They both giggled, then glanced along the river towards the sail, which was rapidly approaching, enough that they could both make out the shape of the boat beneath it.

As the boat neared they saw it was actually two hulls, with a wide deck spanning the gap between them, deep enough to be a cargo hold. It had two masts, the taller one bearing a slanted triangular sail, fully unfurled and rounded with wind, the other one smaller, set forward of the main mast, and with its sail rolled up. Tara, with her keener eyesight, made out the designs on the two flags flying from the main mast, and from her descriptions Willow identified one as the flag of a Duncraig merchant trader, and the other as the city flag of Lut Gholein, the capital of the desert realm of Aranoch. A tiny figure waved at them from the prow of the nearer hull, and the craft slowed, the sail rippling as it spilled wind, and two people made their way down to the rear of the hull, where they busied themselves about a small launch tethered there.

"I'll go wake Amalee," Willow offered, now that it was evident the boat was stopping for them. Tara nodded, and a moment later Willow rejoined her, carrying their bags and weapons, with Amalee in tow, wiping the sleep from her eyes.

"It's the Genie," she said, "daddy used to trade with them sometimes. I think we can trust them," she added, glancing up at Willow and Tara.

"Good," Willow smiled, putting an arm around her shoulder, keeping her other around Tara's waist on her other side. The small launch eventually detached itself from the boat, overtaking it easily with its single sail full and speeding towards the pier. There were two men aboard: one, who seemed to be the captain, stood on the prow, dressed in a long, bright blue coat with a gray sash across his chest. The other was dressed in a similar coat, though less colorful, and stood further back, keeping hold of the sail ropes and the tiller.

The crewman brought the launch sliding up to the end of the pier with some precision, and tossed a rope which Tara caught and looped loosely around one of the pylons. The captain stepped up off the prow onto the pier and gave the three women standing there a measured stare. He was not notably tall or heavily-built, but he had an air of easy authority about him, something that suggested a steel edge beneath his genial smile and casual manner. He wore a blue turban, matching his coat, which Willow and Tara now saw was delicately embroidered with geometric patterns along its edges, and beneath it, on a wide belt, was a sheathed sword, a curved scimitar with tiny jewels glinting on the hilt. He had a long, carefully cut moustache and a devilish-looking pointed beard, and his skin was coffee-colored, which offset his eyes, pale blue and lively, moving across Willow and Tara's faces, pausing on Tara's spear and the bows across their backs. The other man, similar-looking but broader across the shoulders, and with his face clean-shaven, stayed on the launch, tightening the mooring rope and keeping the tiller steady.

"Salaam," he said, nodding and touching the fingers of his right hand to his forehead. "What might – wait," he interrupted himself, staring at Amalee, "I know you, don't I?"

"Hello," she replied with a smile. The man smiled in return, then looked back at Willow and Tara.

"Salaam," Willow said, touching her forehead, "I'm Willow of the Zann Esu, this is Tara of the Amazons," Tara copied the greeting gesture, "we need your help."

"There is trouble?" the man asked. "The girl's father...?" he added, his voice quieter, for form's sake, though there was no way to keep Amalee from hearing, standing so close. Willow shook her head.

"The villages and monastery inland were destroyed," Willow explained quietly, "our caravan was attacked further west, and we were making for the river. She was the only person we found." The man's face fell, as he made no effort to conceal how he was struck by the news.

"Willow and Tara saved me," Amalee said, nodding sadly in acceptance of his sympathy. "They fought off the beast-men and carried me all the way here."

"Can you take us to Duncraig?" Tara asked, as the man looked back at them with a more open gaze.

"That was a noble thing you did," he said, "I am Solaris Ibn Meshif Ibn Teshren, my vessel is the Djinn. I will take you to Duncraig."

"Thank you," Tara echoed, accepting the man's help at getting down into the wide body of the launch. Together they helped Amalee down, and once she was seated Willow passed across Tara's pack, her satchel and their other belongings, with Amalee dutifully stowed behind her seat.

"All set?" Solaris asked as Willow took her seat after lifting the mooring rope clear of its pylon. "Don't stand up, we'll be there in no time. My first mate," he added, gesturing to the crewman holding the tiller, who salaamed to them.

"I'd heard talk of some trouble in the lands south of the city," Solaris went on, "but it was just talk, you know how it is. I never imagined it would be so bad... all the villages?"

"I'm afraid so," Willow said, "it's... there was a powerful mage, he died, but there's still demons and creatures everywhere."

"Hmm," Solaris frowned, "sounds like the army will have a job to do when they finish securing the eastern border. And these beast-men, they are demons?"

"Goat-men," Willow said, "there was a clan of them in the forest between here and Kotram."

"Goat-men," Solaris said with a frown, "yes, I've heard of their kind. And you fought them? Then the stories of Amazons and sorceresses don't exaggerate!"

"A whole tribe of them attacked us," Amalee put in enthusiastically, "but Tara made a thunderstorm and the lightning blew up their stone and they all ran, except for the leader, and Willow fought him with her staff, and she froze him and he broke into bits all over the ground!"

"I see," Solaris said, impressed. "Well, this is a story I must hear... but later, perhaps," he added, glancing at Willow and Tara, "you look like you've had a long journey."

"You've earned your rest indeed," Solaris said seriously, "I'm sorry I can't offer you a cabin, but the Djinn has little in the way of luxuries. You'll have mattresses and blankets though, and if a corner of the cargo deck isn't too meager by way of accommodations, it'll be yours until we reach Duncraig, and I'll see you're not disturbed."

"Thank you," Tara said gratefully. Willow nodded, suddenly feeling the weight of her fatigue.

Once the launch nudged up to the stern of the Djinn's port hull and its crew climbed aboard the larger vessel, Solaris proved as good as his word, pausing only to tell his helmsman to tighten the sails before he and Refash busied themselves preparing a place for their guests. The cargo deck was slung between the two hulls, with a raised walkway on either side and a pair of tiny cabins to the rear, which Solaris said apologetically were already occupied. Nonetheless he provided admirably for Willow, Tara and Amalee, digging out mattresses, blankets and padded cushions from storage lockers, arranging them in a space at the front of the deck, with the starboard hull on one side, a tall crate behind, and the metre's clearance beneath the walkway providing a sheltered space in which to set up a temporary bed. Refash fixed a tarpaulin in place over the gap between the crate and the forward rail, giving them some privacy, and offered to find another for a makeshift roof, though he promised he would make sure no-one went forward on the starboard walkway, from where they might be able to look down on the little sleeping area. Solaris vanished for a moment, and returned with three simple cotton shifts, a bowl of dried fruit and bread and a bottle of juice.

"We always carry extra stores," he said, "just in case, and we're only a day from port now, so there's food to spare. If you need anything I'll be aft."

"Thank you," Tara said, as Willow and Amalee disappeared behind the tarpaulin to prepare for their rest.

"God bless you both," Solaris said, "the girl's father will be glad that she is in your care." With that he turned and walked back between the crates towards the aft deck. Up above the mainsail filled with air and the boat picked up speed, sending a breeze across the deck. Tara lifted the corner of the tarpaulin and crawled through, finding the space beyond sheltered from the wind for the most part, letting in only a little draft from the open area in front, where the river stretched out ahead of them.

Amalee was already asleep, curled up beneath some blankets against the side of the hull. Willow was wearily undoing her armor, which Tara helped her with, receiving a grateful smile as her fingers quickly undid the buckles and straps holding the leather in place, while Willow switched her attention to pulling off her boots. Willow reached for a shift once Tara finished taking her armor off, but Tara touched the back of her hand, stilling it, and enfolded her in a warm, tender hug, laying her head on Willow's shoulder.

"We made it," she whispered, loving the feel of Willow's almost-naked body in her arms.

"We did," Willow agreed. She glanced down into her lap. "Silly underwear and all," she added with a quiet chuckle. Tara looked at the thin silk which was Willow's only clothing at that moment, and joined her gentle laughter.

"I'm going to get something like that when we reach Duncraig," she said idly as Willow pulled on a shift.

"Oh yeah," Tara smiled, as Willow lay down. Tara took off her own armor and boots as Willow arranged the bedding around herself, reaching an arm out on top of the blankets to rest around Amalee's waist as she slept, which brought a little smile to the girl's face. She glanced back over her shoulder as Tara settled down behind her, her arm staying under the blankets, hugging Willow.

Tara awoke gently, to the light breeze off the river and the slow swaying of the deck beneath her, and most importantly to the feel of Willow in her arms. She had turned over in her sleep at some point, cuddling up against Tara with her arms tight around her, one leg thrown over Tara's waist, her calf pressing in behind Tara's thighs, holding her close. Her face was buried in Tara's hair, pressed against her neck, and Tara could have sworn she could feel the smile on her lips.

She slowly let her hands roam up and down Willow's back, one staying high on her shoulders, holding her, the other teasing aside the shift which had ridden up around Willow's waist, stroking her naked skin. Tara felt the breeze on the backs of her arms, and realized that their blankets had been pushed down, probably somewhere in the process of Willow rolling over and wrapping herself around her, so that only their hips and legs were covered by it. Tara sighed as she felt a cloud pass over head and sunlight fall on her and Willow, then her lips widened into a gleeful smile as she felt Willow's kiss against her neck.

Willow murmured sleepily as Tara gently crept her hand over her hip and down onto her stomach, rolling her onto her back even as she continued nuzzling tender kisses onto Tara's neck. Tara smiled as Willow's lips found her ear, and for a moment she contented herself with caressing Willow's stomach, sneaking the tips of her fingers beneath her shift now and then, and feeling the results conveyed to her through Willow's nibbling and sucking on her earlobe. She pressed her hand flat against Willow's abdomen, fingers splayed to touch as much of the warm, smooth skin as she could, truly felt Willow's lips curl into a smile against her neck, and dreamily opened her eyes to see the smile for herself.

Amalee was sitting up against the boat's hull, just on the other side of Willow, watching curiously, with a mildly perplexed look about her. Tara's eyes widened and her hand jerked out from beneath Willow's shift, which in turn startled Willow awake.

"Wha? Huh?" she asked, her voice thick with sleep. Tara felt herself go bright red with embarrassment, but made herself meet the girl's curious stare levelly.

"Hi," Amalee said, and Tara relaxed a little to hear the familiar brightness in her voice – no condemnation, no accusation. If anything, the girl seemed to be slightly gleeful at having caught her off- guard, as if she had been sneaking into the kitchen for a midnight snack.

"Hm? Oh... hi," Willow said, finally waking up enough to follow Tara's gaze and see Amalee. She looked back at Tara for a moment, then her eyes widened as she caught up on recent events, and she fought to keep her blush down, and not smile too much.' Busted,' she mouthed to Tara, and it was only Tara's anxiety over how their young companion wound react to what she had seen that kept her from giggling.

'Right to the point,' Tara mused, 'but what do I say? She's young, she's from a little village, probably educated by the church mostly... does she think this is a sin or something? What do I say? Oh well...'

"Yes sweetie," she said, "we're in love." Really, what other answer was there? To Tara's relief Amalee just nodded to herself, accepting this the same way she had accepted everything else she had learned since they had found her. She felt Willow relax, and realized they were still wrapped in a tight hug.

"Can women be in love with each other?" Amalee asked. "Isn't it just men and women?"

"Well... no," Tara said, taking a deep breath, "women can be in love with each other. Usually it's a man and a woman who fall in love, but not always. I-I know that the church doesn't agree, but where I come from it's normal for people to be in love with whoever they feel that way about, whether they're men or women." She cringed a little, studying Amalee's face as she tried to work out how she was taking it. Was she explaining too much... or being condescending?

"A-are you okay?" Willow asked, disengaging herself gently from Tara. "Does it bother you that we're- "

"I don't think so," Amalee said, her expression changing to thoughtful introspection – Tara had to smile at how adorable she looked, she had a little of the same quality as Willow did when she was mulling over a problem.

"I don't know," she went on, "are Amazons different to other people? Or is everyone the same?"

"Um, well, we believe different things," Tara said hesitantly, "but otherwise, I think we're just the same as everyone else. It's not just us that... where women are sometimes in love."

"What do they think in the city?" Amalee asked warily. "Do they think it's okay, or are they like the church and think it's wrong?"

"I don't know," Tara admitted, "I guess we'll find out when we get there." She gave a little shrug.

"We're not going to hide how we feel, though," Willow added, straightening her shift and sitting up.

"Well, I hope they don't," Tara said. Amalee nodded decisively, then stood up and looked around.

"Mister Solaris said they had some bread rolls and stuff if I got hungry before dinner, is it okay if I go get one?" she asked.

"Sure sweetie," Tara said, "just be careful not to go near the edge of the deck."

"I won't," Amalee replied, in a 'don't be silly' tone of voice. Tara and Willow shared a smile as she buttoned up the neck of her shift and scuttled off between the crates.

"Should one of us stay with her?" Willow asked. "Not that I'm worried or anything, just, you know... heh, I guess I've sort of got into this way of thinking where it's us and everything else, and everything else is out to get us."

"It did seem like that for a while, didn't it?" Tara agreed. "I think we're safe here. I mean, so long as we don't run into, oh, pirates, or whatever they have on rivers to mess up your day. The captain's an honest man, I'm sure, and honorable. I got a very strong sense from him... I don't think a little girl like Amalee would have anything to fear on his boat."

"Good," Willow said emphatically, "she deserves a break... poor girl. Oh, heh, um, sorry about earlier... you know, the snuggling and all that... I didn't realize she was watching."

"Neither did I," Tara shrugged, "still, it didn't seem to bother her, so no harm done. And hey, it's not like you were the only one doing the snuggling."

"Yeah, that's true," Willow smiled, "even half asleep there's no mistaking the feel of Tara-hands getting adventurous." She shot Tara a grin. "There's just no stopping you, is there? That little lake a few days ago, and then in the catacombs," she shrugged helplessly, "any time you get half a chance, you're all over me."

"And you love it," Tara purred, sitting up behind Willow and slipping her hands underneath the material draped over her hips.

"Mmmyeah," Willow agreed, covering Tara's hands with her own, "yeah, I do..." Tara caressed her hips for a moment, playfully squeezing and kneading at Willow, then kissed her on the back of her neck and gave her a light swat on her bottom.

"Hey!" Willow protested, turning to face Tara. "Now you're deliberately turning me on."

"Uh-huh," Tara nodded, "pity this isn't really private." She stretched languidly. "I guess you'll just have to restrain yourself for a little while longer."

"Just you wait," Willow warned gleefully, "the moment I get you alone somewhere..." Tara met her stare, and in unison their smiles broadened, and broke into laughter.

"About Amalee," Willow said, a moment later as she and Tara were donning their armor, "you don't think the might get into trouble? I mean, from what I've heard Duncraig is a pretty liberal place, but... well, I don't like the thought of her telling people about us, and our adventure, and, you know, if she leaves in the part where we're in love, and someone objects... not that it's something we should be hiding, but, well, she's just a kid..." She gave Tara a worried look.

"She's a smart girl," Tara said, "more than most children her age, I think, especially from such a remote upbringing. I think she'll be okay. Besides, it's not like she's going to be on her own. This uncle of hers..."

"We'll see what he's like," Willow said, "make sure he's, you know, that he'll take care of her properly. She deserves a proper family, not just someone who keeps her fed and clothed because it's an obligation, or something like that."

"We'll make sure she's got a good home," Tara promised. She stood up and reached out a hand to Willow, pulling her to her feet and into a hug.

"Oh, you know how it is," Tara replied with forces casualness, "you're too luscious for me not to take every opportunity..." She leaned closer and kissed Willow, enjoying the little whimpers that came up her throat as she parted her lips and explored within, and the way Willow's hands clutched reflexively at her back as their tongues met and mingled.

"Oh yeah," Willow said breathlessly when their lips parted, "I know exactly... how it is..." They walked out onto the cargo deck, hand in hand, finding Amalee sitting with her back against a crate, looking out over the river ahead of them.

"It'll be dark soon," she explained, "Mister Solaris said you can see the city's lights when it gets dark." She resumed her scrutiny of the horizon, munching happily on a slice of nutbread. Willow hopped up onto the crate, swinging her legs off its edge, and Tara leant up against it, one hand lazily trailing up and down Willow's thigh.

"So is 'Solaris' the proper name for our captain?" Tara asked Willow. "I wasn't sure how to address him, after he introduced himself."

"Oh, he's from Lut Gholein," Willow explained, "they go in for long names there. That was sort of a formal greeting, but yeah, in normal conversation he'd be just Solaris. Or 'captain', it he wants, I guess."

"Ancestors," Willow said, "on the male side... they're a little patriarchal in Aranoch, though the current Lord is supposedly big on making everything equal. But the names are an old tradition – 'ibn' means 'son of', so he's Solaris son of Meshif son of Teshren. Sometimes they include their ancestral land, or their tribe if they're descended from nomads, but families who've lived in the cities for a while don't always bother with that. I guess in this case, maybe he'd consider the boat his home, but there isn't a naming tradition that includes boats. They're a desert people originally." Tara nodded thoughtfully.

"Actually," she said, "those naming traditions are a bit like what we use for ceremonies back home."

"Well," Tara said, "the ceremonial name is, like you'd expect, only required in ceremonies – during worship, or formal occasions, we don't use them for introductions. The tradition is that an Amazon's name, as spoken in a ceremony, says who he or she is, what... what defines them, as a person, what makes that person who he or she truly is. So they can change, as people change, and depending on the ceremony being conducted the name might change as well. Only the Amazon herself – or himself, you get the idea – can speak her name in full, or give permission for others to speak it. Names used to be a lot more important and significant, mostly no-one thinks of them nowadays unless they're needed for a ritual or a ceremony. The last time I spoke my full name was when I began my training, years ago. Then I gave my name as Tara nela Selena."

"I didn't become a warrior just to follow in my mother's footsteps," she explained, "but her memory was part of my decision, and the most important influence on me then, as a warrior trainee. It's common nowadays, at least until you become an adult, to have your mother or father as part of your ceremonial name." She paused, and smiled up at Willow.

"But now," she said her voice softening, and growing more serious at the same time, "my full name, by which our gods and goddesses call me, is Tara lal Willow, and you may call me that whenever you wish."

"'Lal'...?" Willow asked, searching her memory, a smile already forming on her lips.

"'Beloved of'," Tara translated. Willow bit her lip, and her eyes filled with moisture.

"Of course, it's just an old tradition," Tara went on, smiling and reaching up to wipe away the joyous tears that rolled over her cheeks, "if you hadn't reminded me of it I probably wouldn't have thought of it. Still, it's important, even today, to allow another person to speak your full name. I-I'm glad you reminded me of it, actually..."

"Tara lal Willow," Willow whispered. Tara put a finger on her cheek and gently guided her down, bringing their faces level.

"Just the way you say 'Tara' is enough," she murmured, "I feel so loved..." They kissed again, slowly and tenderly at first. Willow was the first to reach her fingers through Tara's hair and hold her close, delving into her mouth, while Tara cupped Willow's cheeks in her hands and blissfully surrendered herself to Willow's lips. They stayed together, foreheads touching, even after their lips parted. Amalee, who had glanced back at them, rolled her eyes, gave a theatrical sigh, and turned back to the view of the river. Both Willow and Tara fought an attack of the giggles.

"Well then," Tara said, putting a hand to her cheek to calm herself, "I don't know about you, but I could use a meal."

"Sounds good," Willow agreed. "I'll say this, travel by river is a lot better than on the open seas. All that tossing about, the last thing I wanted was to think about food."

"This boat doesn't roll much," Tara commented, taking Willow's hand as she hopped down from her perch on the crate.

"I haven't ever seen one quite like this," Willow admitted, "the name is from Aranoch – a djinn is a spirit, sort of like a, a fairy, or a sprite. Those slanted sails are the kind they use on the merchant ships out of Lut Gholein, but the hull I don't know. Back in Kurast they use twin hulls, but I've only ever seen them on small boats, like the launch, never one this big."

"My father designed it," said Solaris from behind them. "Sorry," he added sheepishly, seeing them both jump slightly.

"Your father?" Tara asked politely, as Amalee got up and joined them on their way back to the rear of the deck, where the cabins were.

"Meshif," Solaris said, "a great man. He runs the docks in Lut Gholein for Lord Jerhyn now, but back in his younger days he was a great sailor and boat builder. He built this boat for me, for my coming-of- age."

In front of the boat's small cabins a table had been set up, surrounded by chairs, all with slightly splayed legs that kept then steady as the deck swayed slightly. One man was already seated, pouring wine, while a younger man, barely out of his teens, was unwrapping preserved food and setting it out.

"My night-crew," Solaris said, "Taryn, master of the watch, and Vatif, his deck-hand – his first year before the mast, and a fine crewman he's becoming." Both paused, Taryn getting to his feet, and introduced themselves, extended names and all.

"Sit, sit," Meshif said, "we usually dine on deck, it's too cramped inside, and the weather's good for it. Eh Taryn?"

"Good for today and tomorrow," Taryn said, in a thickly-accented voice, "but the day after, big storm."

"Well, none of our concern, we'll be safe in dock by then. Taryn is never wrong about the weather, you know," he added to Willow and Tara, "why, one time – you remember, last time we sailed up the peninsula? – he looked into a clear sky, not a cloud from horizon to horizon, and told me we had three days before the biggest storm we'd ever seen. And you were right, weren't you?" Taryn shrugged modestly, then looked somewhat bashful as Amalee sat next to him and peered intently at the stylized tattoos on his arm, left showing by his sleeveless tunic.

"Oh? Ah, well..." he said, "this here is the name of a ship, see? That's the writing we use back home in Aranoch, though not usually in a circle like that. It says 'Dragonfly', she was a very famous ship..."

"Just don't show her the one on your shoulder," Solaris murmured good-naturedly, "she's not old enough to hear that story. Ah, here we go," he said, as Vatif set a platter down in the center of the table and took a seat himself.

"Is Refash joining us?" Willow asked. Amalee was absorbed in Taryn's story, prompting him for details now and then.

"He's on helm watch," Solaris said, "the Djinn's a fine boat, but she doesn't steer herself. He'll join us once these two finish up and go on duty."

"You keep sailing at night?" Tara asked. "I thought you'd drop anchor, or something?"

"No need on the Kingsway," Solaris said, tucking into a sandwich, "you've never seen the river at night? Well, it's quite a marvel, you can look forward to it."

"I've been meaning to ask, if I may," Tara said, "your name, Solaris... you're not Amazon, but that's an Amazon name...?"

"It is an Amazon name," Solaris agreed, "but no, I'm not Amazon. Born and raised in Lut Gholein. But named for an Amazon. You see," he settled back in his seat, pausing occasionally to take a bite of dinner, "twenty years ago, when I was just an uncomfortable passenger in my mother's womb – don't look so surprised, I don't look that much older, do I?"

"Ah yes," Solaris smiled, "I think if I shaved, none of these Westmarch captains would take me seriously, they'd say 'go fetch your master, cabin-boy,' as if I haven't been on the water for more years than I've been on land! Hah!" he laughed jovially. "Anyway, what was I saying? Oh yes, the time of shadows, what they call the Reckoning nowadays. A great evil lay over the land and the seas, and there was not a captain in Lut Gholein who would risk the crossing of the Twin Seas to Kurast. They say unnatural creatures, huge beasts of the deep, had risen up and were swallowing whole ships in one gulp!" He became more animated, noticing that Amalee was listening in as well.

"A shadow lay over Lut Gholein," he went on, "the work of a foul creature that dwelled out in the desert. Many brave men of the city guard ventured out, but none returned, and even the city itself became dangerous, with evil stalking beneath the ground, in the old sewer tunnels, and venturing out at night. They say even the day became as night, with the sun shrouded in blackness. But," he held up a hand, smiling at Amalee, who was on the edge of her seat, "when all seemed lost, there came a band of warriors from the west, a master of strange magics, a tall Amazon warrior, and a quiet young woman from Kurast. They had fought great battles together back in the west, and were following the trail of evil, undoing the work of the dark creatures as they went.

"When they discovered the terrible plight out city was in, they ventured into the desert, and for days nothing was heard of them. But then, when all had given up hope, the sun returned, and the day after the city had finally seen sunlight again, they returned from the desert, and sought passage across the Twin Seas, where they believed the evil they followed had fled. Well, there were few ships in dock, and few captains brave enough to try their luck on those seas, but my father went to them and said to them, 'you have saved all our lives, so my ship is yours.' And on board they went, the mage keeping to his cabin alone, and the Amazon with the Kurasti woman, tending to wounds she had taken during the battles they had fought in the desert, nursing her back to health. My father did not pry into their affairs, you understand – they said a great demon had been defeated, and he left it at that, and prayed for the woman's health.

"Now, it seemed the voyage was going well, but in the center of the Twin Seas, they say the sea bed is split by a great trench, so deep that the bottom reaches through the world and into darkness that has never seen light. Perhaps it is so, for as my father's ship crossed the middle of the sea, a huge creature rose up, a giant beast the size of a ship itself, with a dozen tentacles, each as thick as a great tree. My father's crew had never seen such a beast – the bolts of their crossbows bounced off its hide, and when they turned the deck ballista on it, and buried a steel bolt five feet long in its belly, it seemed only to make it angrier. The man came on deck from his cabin and began to weave some arcane magic, but before he could complete his spell he was hit by the beast's waving tentacle, and knocked out against the mast – it was a mercy he was not sent overboard, for the ship was being tossed around as if by the mother of all storms! Then..." he paused, and looked at Amalee. "Do you know what happened next?"

"She did," Solaris said, "my father saw with his own eyes the Amazon fire her bow at the sea, and freeze it solid for a hundred yards in every direction! And the monster thrashed around and smashed at the ice, trying to get free, but every time it broke through it set free a huge mass of ice, which swirled in the water and crashed into it. Only ahead of my father's ship was the water still warm, and so they escaped, as the great beast was crushed by its own struggles." He sat back in his seat again and grinned at Amalee, who was quite satisfied with the monster's grisly end.

"So, the Amazon woman saved my father's life, and the life of his crew, and never asked for anything in return. He took her and her companions to the Kurast docks, where they said their farewells to him, but he remembered the Amazon woman's heroism, the fearlessness with which she faced that titan from the deep, and so he named me after her. Her name was-"

"She would have been twenty-four, twenty-five?" Tara asked. "Blonde hair, brown eyes, carried a bow with blue steel tips?"

"She was my weapons instructor," Tara said, "she taught me archery and spear-work, and how to wield Amazon magic."

"Ah," Solaris nodded, "then, it's no surprise you came through unscathed from your encounters with the creatures inland, eh? You have heard this story of the sea beast?"

"No," Tara said, "no, she used to tell us – her trainees – stories now and then, but usually not about herself."

"Of course," Solaris said, "such is often the way. The brave have their fill of adventure, and then leave the telling of their tales to others – so it's no surprise you two tell of your journey across the highlands as if it were nothing, eh? But I think we may hear that story nonetheless, from one who is eager to tell it?" He grinned at Amalee, who was bouncing in her seat with good-natured impatience.

She described, at great length, their journey from the ruins of her village to the river, talking animatedly as dusk became evening, and Vatif lit a handful of oil lamps fixed to the deck railings for light. Tara shared glances with Willow now and then, feeling herself blush as Amalee described her calling on the lightning in terms that made her seem to be some mythic demi-goddess, and she found herself smiling at Willow's matching blush as her fight with the goat-lord was recounted in heroic detail. The girl's vocabulary and grasp of story-telling was impressive to say the least, and Tara noticed that, though she invariably cast her two protectors in the most noble, heroic light, she was faithful to the events she had witnessed, and never truly exaggerated their feats, or omitted their worries and hesitations along the way.

"You know, she would make quite a bard," Willow murmured softly, after Amalee had finished holding the attention of the three sailors, and dinner had drawn to a close.

"She would," Tara agreed, "she had my attention, and I already knew what happened. How does a girl from a rural village learn to tell stories like that?"

"She's smart, that's for sure," Willow said, "I noticed phrases here and there, and ways she constructed the scenes, that sounded like the mythology she probably heard in church lessons. I guess she used the same techniques, and adapted them to the story she was telling, but to do it that well, pretty much by instinct... whatever she eventually decides to do with herself, the future looks bright."

"I am too. It's funny, isn't it? We've known her for, what, two days, and we're carrying on like proud parents..." She and Willow shared a smile, then Willow turned around and leaned back against Tara, covering Tara's hands with her own as they went around her waist.

"Ladies," Solaris called, "if you'd like to come up to the helm for a moment, I think you'll want to see this. Yes, you too," he added to Amalee, who had begun to open her mouth to ask. The three of them followed Solaris and Taryn across to the far side of the cabins, up a ladder onto the small deck on top of them, where Refash stood at the wheel, surrounded by a set of instruments, each fixed in a wooden pedestal in the deck.

"There," Solaris said, gesturing out ahead of them, "the Kingsway river in all her glory!"

Willow, Tara and Amalee looked, and were duly impressed. As far as they could see – two or three miles, to the next bend in the river – the water was alive with starlight, reflected brighter than the night sky itself. It was as if some god had laid out a glittering trail of diamonds for them to follow.

"It's beautiful," Willow whispered, unconsciously catching Tara's hand and holding it.

"Ten years ago, they invented this in Duncraig," Solaris said, "the alchemists brew up a potion that reflects the lights of the night sky, the stars and the moon, so brightly they say you cannot look upon the mixture in its pure form. They put it into the river, so on a clear night like this, with a good helmsman, you can navigate as surely as if the sun was shining. And we have good helmsmen, of course – Refash knows this river as well as he knows his own ancestry, and Taryn-" he turned to Taryn, who had taken the wheel from Refash, "when you were a mere boy, you were a deckhand on the first boat to sail this river guided by starlight, weren't you?" He turned back to the river ahead, and put both hands on the forward rail.

"It is a sight, is it not?" he said, with more than a little awe in his voice. "Aye... some apprentice in a workshop awakes one day with an idea, goes to his chemicals and powders, and then this... such a thing of beauty. And the world is changed – in good weather, a fast ship can reach Duncraig in three days from Kingsport, traveling day and night. We're not *that* fast, but under this clear sky, I promise you ladies, when you wake tomorrow it will be to see the city growing near."

"No doubt," Solaris said earnestly, "by midday tomorrow you will be enjoying lunch in the gardens of the Duncraig markets, and I- hah, I'll probably be haggling with some wizened old goods trader who wants to charge me five crowns a barrel for dragon oil! They have many miracles in Duncraig, and believe me, their businessmen are surely one of them. Are we close enough... yes, there!" He pointed to the horizon, just to the right of the glittering river, where the night sky was lit with a faint, warm glow. "You see it?"

"That," Solaris said proudly, "is Duncraig itself! Even in the dead of night the lights shine, and the city is alive with people. It'll be light by the time we reach the city proper, but to approach it at night... a man could believe he was sailing towards the towers of heaven. The spires reach high, glittering with lamps and torchlight, and always there are bursts of light from the wizards' quarter, from their experiments I'm told."

"I have seen it," Solaris said, "ten minutes do not go by but there is a silent jet of light rising from the roofs of the mages' workshops and studies, reds and greens and blues, like majestic fireworks. They have metal rods, you see, fixed in place, to guide the power into the sky... well, you would know of this better than I, of course."

"I've seen that kind of thing," Willow nodded, "but to be flaring that much... gods, they must be busy. How many mages are there in the city, do you know?"

"Many," Solaris said, "how many I do not know, but they are always around, in their robes, buying strange things for their work. I get good prices for bringing in preserved powders and plants, when we come back from Kurast, or out to the western coast. Many mages, but then again, in that city, there are a great many people of every kind. Ever since I was a boy, there has been talk of Duncraig, and how the wealth of the world is flowing there. Many people make the long journey to get their share of the prosperity – from all over Westmarch, Khanduras, Aranoch, Kehjistan, Entsteig, and a few from even further, from countries that most here have never heard the names of." He shook his head in wonder, then stretched and yawned.

"Well, if you'll forgive me ladies," he said, "it's time I turned in. If you need anything during the night Taryn will be here, and Vatif will be around and about. Don't trouble yourselves if you feel us stop for a moment during the night, if she's on schedule the Lioness is somewhere up ahead, coming downriver, and we'll pause to exchange news. The captain is an old friend of mine." He yawned again. "Oh, excuse me... this is what I get for waking early for morning watch. Well... goodnight ladies."

"I'm not really sleepy," Amalee protested later, when Willow and Tara were laying out the blankets for the night's rest. "I practically slept all day."

"I know sweetie," Tara said, "but we could all use a proper rest, without waking up all the time. And besides, you want to be wide awake for the city tomorrow?"

"I do," Willow said emphatically, "I had no idea there were so many mages there, I'd thought- I mean, trade and commerce okay, and of course the place is growing like you wouldn't believe, but the way Solaris described it, it sounds like it's the western capital of the magical world. Sort of like Kurast without the tropical heat," she mused to herself, "I could actually get to like that, I never really liked the heat that much, and mosquitoes, ick..." she yawned.

"Oh yes," Tara said, "I'll be able to see my friends from the caravan again – at least, we should do," she added, her face darkening with a tiny amount of worry, quickly dispelled by Willow's comforting smile.

"Well, no," Tara admitted, "but that's what I'm doing on this journey, meeting all the rulers on behalf of the Amazons."

"Bedtime, honey," Willow reminded Amalee gently, patting the blankets she had laid out for her.

"Okay," she said, with only a small sigh. All three of them sat down on the blankets, Willow and Tara busying themselves with removing boots and unstrapping their around in preparation for bed. Amalee paused, and looked at them for a moment.

"What's up sweetie?" Tara asked, noticing a moist gleam in the little girl's eyes. Without warning she flung herself at Willow and Tara, hugging both of them fiercely.

"I'm so glad you found me," she whispered hoarsely, "I'm going to miss you two when we get to the city."

"It's okay honey," Willow soothed her, stroking her hair, "we'll visit you all the time, won't we?"

"Of course," Tara confirmed, "after all, you'll be our best friend in the whole city, you'll see plenty of us."

"Promise," Tara smiled. Amalee loosened her hold, and Willow coaxed her into the blankets, while Tara finished taking off her armor, again donning her borrowed shift to sleep in.

"Sleep well, honey," Willow whispered to Amalee, "sweet dreams." She watched over her for a moment, patting the back of her hand, until the girl's breathing became the slow rhythm of sleep. With a last smile she turned back to Tara, who was kneeling close to her, smiling seductively.

"Dream all you like," Tara murmured, so close her breath warmed Willow's cheek, "tomorrow night, I'll make sure you get everything you've dreamed of."

"Everything?" Willow asked, sliding her arms around Tara's waist, pulling up the bottom of the shift to press her hands against her skin.

"Well, not the dancing fish, or whatever you come up with this time," Tara grinned, "but all the good bits... all night." She nipped playfully at Willow's ear, then helped her out of her armor and on with her shift, her hands straying over Willow's sides and thighs until at last they were covered.

"Goodnight my love," Willow replied. She turned and began to lie down next to Amalee, hesitating half-way and turning back towards Tara.

"Thank you honey," Willow laughed, sitting back up and hugging Tara tightly. As she lay down again, Tara went with her, adopting her customary position, curled up against Willow's back, as Willow gently lay a hand on Amalee's arm.

It was mid-morning by the time the Djinn, her sails lowered to slow her to a cautious crawl, came slipping through the crowded river Kingsway towards the Duncraig docklands. Willow and Tara had been woken by Amalee, shared a breakfast with the crew, and now stood on the helm deck with Solaris. Even early in the morning both banks had been covered with houses and workshops, with piers jutting out into the river, and small pontoon docks gently shifting in their moorings. Amalee had been overcome with excitement, pointing and describing in detail each new sight, as Willow and Tara gathered up their few possessions in preparation to disembark. Now, with everything accounted for, Solaris had invited them up to the helm, which offered the best view, and even Amalee stood silently, watching the heart of the city grow closer. Willow and Tara leaned on the forward rail side by side, taking in the awesome sight without comment.

Ever since they had passed, on their port side, the lower tributary of the river Marien, flowing in from the west to join the Kingsway, the shore had been completely covered with stone moorings and wooden jetties, its original contours lost behind the squared-off edges of the docks. Tara spotted and pointed out an entrance to a small lake, man-made by the look of it, just beyond the mouth of the tributary. Beyond its reinforced entrance half a dozen great merchantman freight ships were moored at huge stone quays, with cargo moving on and off over dozens of massive gangplanks for each vessel, every platform wide enough to drive a wagon over with room to spare. The port was surrounded with warehouses, their massive doors open, revealing their vast interiors stacked with crates and barrels. Above a tapering counter-weighted crane swung steadily around, moving out over one of the ships with a wide cargo pallet suspended beneath it.

Further on the riverbanks were crowded with ships and boats, freighters on the west bank at docks and piers, smaller passenger ferries and launches tied to jetties on the east bank. Everywhere people were bustling about, pushing carts full of wares, shouting instructions to one another, getting into arguments, haggling over prices. The sound of a thousand voices carried over the creaking of the vessels' hulls, like a giant bee hive buzzing to itself, full of careful motion that seemed random and chaotic to the outside eye.

It was around then that Amalee tugged on Willow's skirt, and drew her and Tara's attention to the view ahead. The river, which had seemed crowded since they had woken, was positively jammed with boats, all carefully maneuvering around each other, sails flapping in the breeze, oars thrashing at the water, paddle- wheels churning the river white in their wake. Up ahead, where the Marien's main flow joined the Kingsway, it seemed impossible that any boat could get through, yet the Djinn kept up its steady approach, with Solaris looking unconcerned.

"Flags up," he called down to the main deck, where Refash was waiting for instructions. He hauled on a pulley, and three colored flags slid up the main mast, the top one blue with a white star in its center, then red with two white stripes, then yellow with a black circle. Willow glanced around at the other vessels nearby, noting similar arrangements of flags on their masts, and then her attention was drawn to a thin tower rising up from the point of land between the two rivers, behind which was the heart of the largest city in the western world.

"Look at that," she murmured to Tara, peering at the distant tower. It rose high into the air, far above the buildings around it, competing even with the huge stone towers of the city beyond, and its top was very peculiar. Instead of a roof it had a massive wooden framework, within which were a dozen or so panels painted black and white, which seemed to flicker oddly, as if they were moving. Beneath this was a gantry supporting some kind of mechanism, and a suspicion formed in Willow's mind as she watched the tower and its changing patterns, and glanced back at Solaris, who was staring at it through a telescope.

"Heh," Willow laughed, "I was just thinking that... that's right, isn't it?" she asked Solaris.

"It is," he said, "that's the Regulator. Five years it's been there, ever since the river started getting too crowded to make your own way through. Now either a captain has to know how to 'talk' to the tower, or else take on a pilot lower down to guide him in to his dock. And the prices those pilots charge," he laughed to himself, "well, I made sure I learned for myself!"

"We use something similar at home," Tara said idly, "lanterns with covers, at night-time. They flip the cover on and off, and send signals to anyone who can see the light appear and disappear. But that's just for convenience, nothing like this... there are people up there, working it? Guiding the ships?"

"On the platform, yes," Solaris said, "a team of men operating the outbound signals, a second team marking the position of every hull on the river, and a third team operating another set of signals, facing down towards the shipping office. That's in a building down below, that piece of land – there's a little stream just behind it, between it and the city – it controls the whole river, as far as the eye can see. And their eyes see very far, they make good lenses here."

"So," Willow thought out loud, "the observers watch where the boats are, and they signal the office on the ground, and they signal back to the tower, and the tower signals the boats?"

"That's it," Solaris nodded, "in simple terms. I've never seen inside the office myself, but I have a friend who works there. In this business, it's good to have many friends!" he chuckled. "She tells me they have a great map of the river, and little wooden models of boats they move around. There are people whose job it is only to listen for reports of certain boats, and move their models, and people who read the signals from the tower, and people who write down every instruction that passes in and out of the office, and the River Masters who decide which boat goes where and how fast. I saw once a big machine in Lut Gholein, wooden wheels and gears all moving at once, and it is like that, my friend says. A huge machine that controls the whole river."

"Do they ever make mistakes?" Tara asked. "Read a signal wrongly, or anything like that?"

"There was a time," Solaris said, still looking through the telescope, "six months after the tower began to work, when it gave orders that were wrong. I do not know why, perhaps someone said the wrong ship's name, or misheard what someone else said. A merchantman – this was before the merchantman dock was built, you saw that earlier, to port – hit a sloop, but both were moving slowly, thank god, and no-one was hurt. They say the shipping office hired more people, and now there is a second team who compare the position of boats on the river to the positions of the models on the map. Or something like that, I do not know exactly how they work. But there have been no more accidents. Ah, there we go." He put away the telescope and called down to Refash: "A touch more sail!" He turned back to Willow and Tara, absently toying with the helm wheel.

"We have a docking permit," he explained, "our route to follow to our mooring. Not long now!" Amalee worked her way in between Willow and Tara, taking a hand from each of them and peering over the rail.

"Yup," the girl replied quickly. "When we get there, you'll stay, won't you? For lunch at least? I'm sure uncle won't mind."

"Thank you sweetie," Tara smiled, "if it's okay with him, then yes, we'll stay for lunch. And don't forget we'll keep visiting you. You won't miss us."

"Yes I will," Amalee said, "but it's okay." She flashed both of them a smile. "I won't forget either of you. That's like having you with me."

"Oh, come here," Willow said, bending down to pick up Amalee and sit her up on the rail, keeping one arm securely around her. "We won't forget you either," she said softly, hugging the girl. Tara put an arm around her shoulders, and the three of them turned their attention to the passing riverbank.

The Regulator tower passed by to starboard, and beneath it a large, low building three storeys high, with the walls of its uppermost level composed entirely of panes of glass, shining in the sunlight. Peering at it, Willow could just make out people inside, walking from place to place busily, pausing now and then to look out. On the roof a smaller version of the tower's signaling system flickered away, aimed up at the Regulator's gantry. The signals, she realized on seeing them closer, were boards of wood, one side painted black and the other white, flipping over in their mountings as the pattern changed.

"We're on the Marien now," Solaris commented, as the boat moved beyond the tower's point of land. The southern bank was composed entirely of docks, all clad in hard-wearing stone with moss growing at the waterline. The Djinn took its place in a queue of boats making their stately way up the river, their speed steady even as vessels moved off towards their moorings or swung out to pass through the traffic. Little rowboats and single-sailed launched darted everywhere, edging between the hulls of the larger vessels like dogs scampering across a busy roadway, dodging the wheels of the carts.

On the shore the business of loading and unloading boats was carried out to the accompaniment of shouting from captains calling down to their crews, warehouse-owners on the piers yelling instructions to their laborers, people calling for room to move as huge crates swung around on ropes and pulleys, and the cries of vendors of all manner of wares working their way through the crowds. At one dock a wide-bellied freight ship unloaded its cargo with a pair of cranes built into its deck, the massive pallets of cargo steadily turning through the air and setting down on wheeled platforms on the dock. Beneath it a tiny launch piled high with bags of grain was being unloaded by hand, with porters scurrying back and forth in the shadow of the freighter.

Willow looked north to the other bank, where the land opened up into a huge stone dock, mostly unused for cargo, though there were a few smaller vessels nudged up against the stone walkways, jockeying for position and room to move their cargo. A long, graceful passenger barque rode at anchor inside the docking booms, securely fastened by a dozen thick ropes. People dressed in expensive clothes, finely-colored coats and traveling robes, were milling about on the shore, a handful slowly boarding the ship over a thin gangplank, while suitcases and luggage crates were taken aboard over another walkway further aft. Willow pointed out to Tara the flag flying from the ship's main mast, a lion rearing up on its hind legs, holding a sword and shield as if it were a knight, all on a rich scarlet field.

"The Lion Star," Solaris added, "she carries the Duke and his family when they travel. Though these days the Duke stays close to home for the most part, so the ship is used to ferry the very rich back and forth along the river. They say she is a palace afloat, but I doubt I will ever find out how true that is."

"Hah! This voyage, we came all the way from the peninsula, seven weeks there and back, with a full hold of quality goods, and perhaps – if I am lucky – our profit would buy a single night on the Lion Star. In a small cabin, you understand. To berth in the rooms that the Duke uses... not in a year would a trader like me make such a fortune." He shook his head and chuckled to himself ruefully. "Run a fast ship and a good crew, and you can make a decent living, but own half a street full of warehouses and never stray beyond your own front door, and you can make a fortune."

A moment later Solaris spun the wheel around, and the Djinn came around, slowing as Refash dropped the sails. They slipped between the shore and a wooden pontoon, and even as they slowed to a halt men were scurrying about on either side, catching the ropes that Refash and Solari tossed down to them and securing the boat to its moorings. Willow glanced back to see the gap they had left in the river traffic quickly filled by a departing barge, and marveled that they had just come across half the width of a busy river in a single maneuver, and every other boat had been in exactly the right place to leave their path free. Her respect for the shipping office and its Regulator increased as she watched the boats go by, efficiently coming and going but never getting in each other's way.

"Well, here I must bid you good day," Solaris said, clapping his hands and kicking the helm wheel's lock into place. "My shoremaster, down there, will be taking my letters in a few moments, if you wish to have your arrival known, he will see your letters delivered quickly. I hate to hurry you, but I have many people to meet."

"That's quite alright," Willow said, "we should be getting on our way, it's a big city. Got to go find your uncle, eh?" she added to Amalee. "Um... you wouldn't know how we might go about looking, would you?"

"At a guess," he said, "a little way west of here is the Centenary Bridge. Cross that, follow its road a little way and you will find the great Parliament house – you will know it when you see it. On the far side is the old hall, that was the town hall in the old days decades ago, and now they use it for the hall of records. If you know the name, they will tell you the place, I am sure."

"Then, good fortune to you, and may he look after you well," Solaris said, squatting down to look straight at her. "I am glad to have carried you on my vessel. Think well of the Djinn, and you will always have a friend on these waters." He gave her a wink, then straightened up.

"That goes for you too," he said to Willow and Tara, "in the old country, I would say my house is your house. Well, this boat is my house, so you may consider it yours if ever I should be in port when you need passage, to Kingsport or anywhere beyond that I might sail."

"Oh, and when you see your instructor," Solaris grinned to Tara, "tell her my father, Meshif, remembers her deeds often in Lut Gholein, whenever people gather to tell stories of heroes."

"Then god bless you," Solaris said, descending the ladder to the main deck, "and may he offer you good fortune." With a wave he was gone, lost amid the crates and barrels strewn about the deck, and the dozen or so strong men who had come on board to unload them. Tara helped Amalee down the ladder, and then extended a hand up to Willow.

"Oh, thank you," Willow replied, with aristocratic courtesy and not a little amusement, "how kind." She took Tara's hand and daintily stepped down to the deck, keeping their hands joined afterwards. Amalee took her other hand and together, with their bags and belongings, the three of them descended the gangplank down to the pontoon, and from there around the front of the Djinn to the dock itself.

"Well," Tara said with a relieved sigh as they finally felt solid ground underfoot, "we made it."

"There's the shoremaster," Tara pointed, "should we send a note to the palace? I'd like them to know we're safe, if we're going to find this Brydan before we go there."

"Right," Willow agreed. She found a spare piece of paper in her belt and spent a moment writing out a quick note, giving the basics of their separation from the caravan and subsequent passage to the city. Tara added her signature to it, and the shoremaster agreed that it would go with Solaris's letters in a few minutes' time, and said his messenger would deliver it to the palace within half an hour.

"Wow," Amalee breathed, as they stepped out of the shadow of the dock's warehouses and offices and into the wide street running behind them.

"I third it," Tara agreed. The road was full of traffic, from pedestrians to men on horseback, two- wheeled carts and gigs speeding along, heavy wagons stacked high with cargo and pulled by teams of oxen, even grand-looking carriages, their doors set with gold-painted heraldry, and aristocratic faces peering out of their windows from behind curtains. Laborers were talking and arguing as they went, pushing trolleys or carrying crates or timber between them, street vendors were announcing their wares at the tops of their voices, with trays of produce hanging from cords looped around their necks, or pulling small carts along with them. Willow stood back as a pair of red-coated lancers went by, their points held high and their horses' hooves clattering on the cobblestones.

"I've never seen anything like this," Tara said, staring around as they slowly made their way north towards the bridge.

"I suppose Kurast must be the same size," Willow mused, "but it's all temples and halls, miles of roads and causeways, it's been there for hundreds of years... even Gotunberg wasn't this busy... this place is something else. Oh wow, look at that!" She pointed along the road, where far away a tower rose up over the city, hazy in the distance. For a few seconds a curling, twisting jet of emerald light reached into the sky from its tip, then the spectacle was gone. No-one else seemed to pay it any attention at all.

"Magic flare," Willow said, "that must have been what we were seeing last night... and others like it. Gods, how tall is that tower?"

"It's like one of the great oaks at home," Tara said, "they're thousands of years old... huge old things."

"Partly... there's a college around here somewhere too, I've got letters from the Order to study with several of the mages who teach there. At least, they were in the wagon... gods, I'd almost forgotten the caravan," she said, turning to Tara. "Do you think they're okay? I mean, they made it, right, they must have?"

"I'm sure they did," Tara said, "we'll see soon, when we get there. They'll get our letter, and a couple of hours won't make any difference while we find Brydan and make sure Amalee's safe and sound."

"Right," Willow nodded, "you're right... heh, I'm trying to think of everything at once suddenly. This place is infectious, I feel like I should be busy just from being here."

"Sure, because normally your mind is so lazy," Tara smirked. Willow laughed to herself.

"I do remember," she murmured quietly in Tara's ear, so Amalee wouldn't overhear, "several notable occasions when I've been rendered incapable of any thought more complicated than 'yum'."

"No," Willow agreed, "it was because of you, luscious." Tara shot her a sexy grin as they walked on, keeping to the side of the road, away from the carts and horses moving back and forth along the center.

The bridge was a huge construction, spanning the river in a single arc from side to side, with stone- railed walkways on either side for people on foot, while faster traffic kept to the road in the middle, clattering over the wooden slats without slowing. Amalee kept stealing glances over the side of the bridge at the crowded river below, but she didn't slow her pace. Willow wondered whether she was anxious to get to her uncle's house, or just hungry. 'Well, she's going to live here,' she thought to herself, 'I guess she'll be able to see the river whenever she wants.' She peeked sideways herself, fascinated at the complex motions of the dozens of vessels, all carefully choreographed by the distant, silent tower. 'Lucky girl,' she grinned.

On the far side of the river they followed the road, which broadened into a tree-lined avenue, until it reached a busy junction. Carts, coaches and riders were going in all directions, and it took a moment to find a safe place to cross – a crossing marked by upright white stones on either side of the road, where the traffic paused to let pedestrians by. On the far side was a narrow strip of greenery, lovingly cared for and sculpted into an impressive garden, with trees of all kinds offering shade to a dazzling array of flowers arranged according to their color into a soft rainbow blanket. People were dotted here and there, having an early lunch, reading or chatting with each other, seated on the grass or on wrought-iron benches spaced through the garden.

On the other side of the garden, beyond a quieter road, was a great marble-clad building that could only be the Parliament house Solaris had mentioned. Willow and Tara stared at it, as dumbstruck as Amalee, their eyes traveling over the towering columns, the carved friezes of scenes of battle and triumph, and the statues standing at regular intervals between the tall flights of steps leading from the pavement up into the building.

"Tal Rasha," Willow pointed out, gesturing to a grizzled marble figure, depicted in torn robes and battle-scarred armor, "the greatest Horadrim mage ever... that must be Wilfur the Great," a giant, bearded warrior with his hands resting proudly over the hilt of a massive double-headed axe, "he was from the northlands, he was made a general here about two hundred years ago, he was never defeated... Tirion," a man in ornate armor, carrying a mace and shield, "he was a paladin, they called him the Chosen of Akarat... he was born in Kurast four, five hundred years ago, and came out here to try to cleanse the western kingdoms of demons. Oh, look honey," she said to Amalee, "there's Esara! You remember?"

"That's her?" Amalee asked, staring wide-eyed at a statue of a serious-looking woman in her thirties, clothed in flowing robes. In each hand she held a short staff, little more than the length of a club, and both were tipped with claw-shaped pieces holding spheres.

"That's her," Willow confirmed, "when she grew up she became a great sorceress, one of the best."

"There are a few," Willow said, "I don't know all of them – I was always more into theory than history," she added to Tara, by way of explanation, before turning her attention back to Amalee, "but maybe I'll look them up in the library, and when we visit you can hear them?"

"Quite a woman," Tara commented. The sculptor, whether accurately or by way or artistic license, had given the sorceress a commanding presence. Even in lifeless marble she was an impressive sight, with a stern, unforgiving gaze tempered by a face that seemed full of feeling.

"Some of the stories," Willow said, as Amalee devoted her attention to more of the heroic statues, "probably more fairy tale than fact... it's been a long time since she was around, and you know what they say, stories grow in the telling. Some of the things she's supposed to have done are, well, pretty fanciful at best."

"Pretty much," Willow said, "I mean, some of it's simplified... like, what probably happened was that all the sorceresses charged their staves to break the command spell, and Esara just released the staff's charge when she cast her own spell. You can't knock out a rod of command with a firebolt," she grinned.

"All the old legends are like that, they're sort of... filtered through generations of story-tellers, who pick out the bits they like, and don't always bother with the details that much. Still, what's important always survives."

"Like a little girl finding the courage to stand up to a powerful mage," Tara noted.

"Sounds like fairy-tale stuff, doesn't it?" Willow smiled. "I guess a fairy tale is just fact a few hundred years later."

The hall of records was a wide building with a tall clock tower, marked by a brightly-painted sign fixed to its protruding wooden roof beams, above the old decorative stone faceplate naming it the town hall. Inside Willow and Tara found a tranquil relief from the bustle of the street outside, as the long hall was inhabited only by a handful of scribes and notaries who went about their business quietly and patiently. A portly old man with a white beard down to his waist looked up from the newspaper he was reading as Tara approached his desk, with Willow and Amalee just behind her, still engaged in the tail end of a discussion of famous mages.

"Um, hello," Tara said hesitantly, "we're looking for this girl's uncle, he's an architect called Brydan? We were told to come here, to find out where to go..."

"Of course, of course," the man said, getting to his feet, "new in town? Yes, well, if you'll come this way... oh, forgive me," he said, turning back to Tara, "Moric, Edar Moric, at your service."

"Ladies," Edar bowed slightly, before making his way over to one of the rows of shelves that occupied much of the back of the hall. "Zann Esu... that's a mage school, isn't it?"

"Ah yes, the eastern mage women... we had one at the Palace a few years ago, you know, there was some talk about some of them joining the college, can't for the life of me recall whether it was as students or teachers... ah, here we are," he said, retrieving a thick stack of papers.

"Right," he said, dropping the stack on a writing table with a thump that made the quills jump in their pot, "this is a form for a search of the records. Just a formality, really, you're free to come with me while I look it up – probably save a bit of time if you did – but we like to keep records of this kind of thing. If you'll just sign your name here," he handed a quill to Tara and uncorked the ink pot, "and here... family name first, or if you don't use them your town of birth will do... Tran Athulua?" he read as Tara wrote, "where's that? I don't think I've heard of it."

"Oh, of course, you're with the delegation," Edar smiled, "yes, there was a mention in the paper today."

"Eh? Oh, I think so... I didn't read it too closely, just that there were diplomats at the Palace meeting with the Duke's people. Aren't you with them?"

"We were separated on the road," Willow explained, as Tara gave a relieved sigh, "we ended up coming up the river."

"Really? My word... oh, sorry, distracted myself. This line, write down the relevant details of the person you're looking for, if you would. Brydan, did you say?"

"Not a common name, that'll make thing easier," Edar said, more or less to himself, "and an architect... we'll see what the records have to say..."

"I know, but... well, it's a relief to know." She frowned. "I wonder if they had any more trouble, after that attack? Or what they're doing about us, whether they've got people out looking, or-"

"That letter should have arrived by now," Willow pointed out, "they'll know we're here. Relax," she added with a smile. Tara took a deep breath, and smiled in return.

"Very well," Edar said when the form was handed over, "let's see now... follow me please..." He led the way down the shelves, turning here and there. Rows and rows of books towered over them, all identical save for the inscriptions in gold on their red leather spines. Willow glanced at a couple of them as they passed – the first twenty feet or so of shelves seemed occupied with 'Marriages', sorted by letters, then came 'Births', then they followed Edar around a corner and eventually came to a long set of shelves bearing 'Business Permits, copies (index), by profession'.

"Architect, architect," Edar muttered absently as he tapped the spines of the books, working his way along the shelf. "Ah, here we are..." He hauled out one of the books, six inches thick from cover to cover, and carried it to the end of the row, where he laid it open on a table and leafed through the pages.

"Any idea how long the man's been in business?" he asked. "This is probably the best way to find him, without a family name, but it would help if we could narrow things down a little."

"And he was already an architect then? How old are you, dear, eight?" Edar asked.

"Alright, we'll start there and work backwards... I'm afraid we have rather a lot of architects around..."

Willow and Tara waited patiently while Edar worked his way backwards through the book, his finger running down the columns of names and dates as he methodically checked each one, muttering names under his voice. Amalee fidgeted now and then, and Tara crouched down to talk with her, to keep her from getting bored.

"Hey, maybe after we've all gotten settled in," she suggested, "you could come up and visit us at the Palace?"

"I'm sure Tara will be," Willow said, "she's important, you know, she came all the way from the Amazon Isles to meet with the Duke, so I'm sure she'll get a room there. And where she goes, I go," she finished with a smile for Tara.

"Here's a Brydan," Edar called, "Brydan Toled, licensed as a guild architect nine years ago."

"Good," Edar sighed, "I really didn't want to go into last decade's books, the indexing really wasn't formalized back then... Toled, eh? Well, easy enough, off we go..."

Tara took Amalee's hand and led her along in the wake of Willow, as they followed Edar further into the maze of shelves. He came at last to a series of old oak bookcases with brass rails fixed to them, the shelves filled with newer wooden partitions keeping thousands of tiny scrolls separated from each other, each in its own niche with a little square of chalkboard nailed beneath. Edar dragged over a wheeled stepladder from the end of the row and, clutching the shelf's railing to steady himself, climbed it to reach the scrolls stored up above.

"Commercial permits," he explained, looking across the shelves and peering at the tiny markings beneath the scrolls. "The Guild of Architects is very particular about its record-keeping and standards... back in my father's day it was just anyone who could stack bricks on top of each other, but of course that sort of thing can't last for long..." He fell silent for a time.

"Do you think there's anything they haven't got written down here somewhere?" Tara asked quietly. Willow looked around and shrugged.

"I guess running a city this big makes a lot of paperwork," she said. "Nice place they've got for it though. All the Order's records are kept underground, it's kind of gloomy."

"Oh, all the archival records are kept in the basement offices," Edar offered, "these shelves up here only go back fifteen years."

"Ah," Willow said, looking duly impressed as she re-assessed the scope of the hall's records.

"I think we have a winner," Edar grinned, "yes, here we are, Brydan Toled, affiliated with the Guild of Architects, officially registered nine years ago as an independent tradesman." He descended the ladder with one of the scrolls open in his hand.

"According to this he's still a resident," he said as he led the way back to the front desk, "number thirty- nine Harker's road, that's east of here, behind the old docks... actually it'd be the other side of Trader street, wouldn't it... Hamis!" he called out loud.

"Ah, of course," Edar muttered, crossing the room to a small case full of huge rolled-up maps. He pulled one out and unfurled it over a table, covering most of it with a hugely detailed map of the center of the city, with every street, road, bridge, square, lane and alley marked in delicate calligraphy.

"Alright, now, this is where we are here," he pointed out, "where you want to go it down here, this is Trader street, it's quite busy-"

"Well, you know where to go then. Follow that east, past the Market Hall, that's here," he pointed to an enormous square, "the street continues on the other side of it... and here's Harker's road, just here. Let me see..." he peered at the tiny numbers marked on the map, "thirty-nine would be... just here, a few doors north of Trader street. All clear?"

"This is it," Tara said to Amalee, as they stood outside a well-kept two storey house, with a small brass plate beside the door proclaiming it the home of 'Brydan Toled, Architect, cert. G. of A.'

"I think I remember this house," Amalee said, "there's... stairs in a spiral... and a big chair with cushions. I remember sitting in it..." She took a deep breath, and looked up at Willow and Tara.

At Willow's knocking, the door was opened by a man in his thirties, with short blond hair and a neatly trimmed beard, and a pair of half-moon glasses perched on the tip of his nose.

"Good day, how can I... help you?" he said, with a slight hesitation as he registered the sight of two armed, leather-clad women on his doorstep.

"Yes, I..." he said, and paused, looking down as Amalee peeked out from behind Tara. He frowned in confusion for a moment, then an expression of surprise spread over his face.

"Hello Uncle," she said, smiling and losing her hesitation once the man recognized her. He looked up at Willow and Tara, his mouth open as if to speak, then fell to his knees and hugged the girl.

"Oh gods be praised," he said, his voice thick with emotion, "we were so worried... when we heard about the villages... oh, come in, come in," he said, waving Willow and Tara inside as Amalee returned his hug.

"Darling!" he called out. "Amalee's here! She's safe!" There was the sound of something someone moving from somewhere further inside the house, then a door opened on the balcony overlooking the tall main room and a heavily-pregnant woman appeared, staring down over the railing for a second before hurrying to the side of the balcony, where an iron spiral staircase led down to the ground floor. Brydan finally released Amalee, though she continued to cling to him for a moment, and stood up shakily, looking again at Willow and Tara.

"Her... her father...?" he asked, his voice suddenly quiet. Willow shook her head sadly.

"I'm sorry," Tara murmured. The man put a hand to his mouth, then took a deep breath and glanced to where the woman had gathered Amalee up in a hug, lifting her off the ground and kissing her on the cheek.

"When news came that the villages had... were gone," he said quietly, "that no-one had survived..." he took another breath and steadied himself. "It's a blessing she's alive," he said, half to himself, "yes. Yes. Oh, I-I'm sorry, I forgot myself... Brydan Toled," he said, extending his hand, "oh, wait, you know... welcome," he finished, with a fragile but sincere smile. Willow and Tara introduced themselves to him, and the woman who was still holding Amalee in her arms, and was looking at them, kindly but curiously.

"I'm Joma," she said, offering the hand that wasn't being used to hold Amalee, "Brydan is my husband." Up close, Willow noticed her coffee-colored skin and the exotic style of her dress, both typical of a woman from Aranoch, though she spoke with a perfect Westmarch accent. She smiled warmly at both of them, then glanced at her husband, and seemed to pick up on his concealed dismay at the news of Amalee's father –'his brother,' Willow guessed.

"Stay for lunch," she said, inviting them with a wave of her arm further into the house, "please?" Willow and Tara agreed, and were led through to a large ground floor kitchen and dining room, where Brydan cleared some books from one end of a table set for two and brought extra chairs, while Joma set Amalee down and produced extra cutlery and plates from a drawer. While Joma busied herself preparing food Willow and Tara took turns narrating the circumstances of their finding Amalee and their journey to the city, with Amalee making sure they didn't leave out the more heroic details.

All too soon, it seemed to Willow, the meal was over, and she and Tara were standing in the front room ready to leave. Amalee ran up and hugged both of them fiercely around their waists, smiling happily and sniffling at the same time.

"I promise," Tara assured her, "in fact... tomorrow, at lunch-time?" she asked, glancing at Brydan and Joma.

"You're always welcome in our home," the woman said warmly, "always. We'll have lunch waiting for you. It's nothing compared to what we owe you."

"Thank you," Brydan said sincerely, shaking both of their hands as Joma gently helped prise Amalee off them. After an extended series of goodbyes, and more hugs from Amalee, Willow picked up her staff, bow and satchel, Tara hefted her pack onto her shoulders and took her spear, and they left the house and returned to the busy streets of Duncraig.

"They'll look after her," Tara said, as Willow took her hand and they headed back towards Trader street.

"I'm sure they will," Willow agreed. "I liked Joma, she seemed very capable. Level-headed, you know?"

"That's settled, then," Tara said, letting out a deep breath. "Nothing more to do... nothing to worry about..." she looked around with a smile, and her gaze settled on Willow. "I think our bedroom beckons," she grinned.

"I think you're right," Willow grinned back, looping her free arm through Tara's elbow. They headed back west, to the huge square dominated by the Market Hall building, which Willow remembered from the map was joined to the Palace by a main road heading north.

"Hey," Tara said as they entered the square, "first chance we get, what do you say to a day shopping here?" Willow nodded eagerly – the Market Hall, an old warehouse by the look of it, was vast, and through its wide doors they could see all manner of stalls and stands within, selling everything from food to clothes, jewelry to books, exotic artifacts, art, vases, sculptures, flowers and plants – Willow even spotted a small stall where a vendor was excitedly touting the virtues of human-sized plaster replicas of some of the statues from the Parliament house. Passing the Hall earlier, with Amalee in tow, neither woman had taken much notice of it, being more concerned with not getting lost, but now they walked at a leisurely stroll, taking in the sights and sounds of the great market with enthusiasm.

"Yipes," Willow breathed, "you know, I think you could fit the whole village I grew up in inside that place." What was more amazing was that the marketplace within seemed to be too big to be contained, even in such a huge space, and had spilled out into the square, with the pavement dotted with vendors and shoppers.

"It's almost as big as the temple of Athulua at home," Tara commented, "and that's the biggest building in the Isles. You remember, I think I told you about it?"

"Yes, that one," Tara agreed, a mild blush creeping across her face. "That infallible memory of yours."

"Uh-huh," Willow said, "you never know when a detail like that might come in handy. I mean, suppose we just happen to wander in there one day, years from now, and the priests happen to have popped out for a moment?" Her hand snuck down behind Tara and gave her a pat on her bottom.

"Tara?" Both women spun around on hearing the surprised exclamation from behind them, from a man who had turned from a stall he had been shopping at as they walked by.

"Tryptin?" Tara gasped in surprise. The young diplomat gaped for a moment, then took a quick step forward and flung his arms around Tara.

"You're safe," he exclaimed, as she recovered from her shock and returned the hug, "praise Athulua, you're safe, both of you..." He collected himself and stepped back, looking a little sheepish at his display of emotion.

"Miss Willow," he said, bowing deeply, "it is wonderful to see you again... Tara," he said, turning back to her, seemingly lost for words.

"It's good to see you too," she replied, with a noticeable trace of moisture in her eyes.

"A couple of hours," Tara said, "we sent a letter to the Palace, but we had some other business to take care of."

"Then they'll know you're safe already," Tryptin said, grinning broadly, "so I'm the last to know? A fine diplomat that makes me... you're headed for the Palace now?"

"I'll come with you," he said, "I was just looking for some supplies, but they can wait. What happened to you? Did you get to Kotram, or detour around it? How did you get here- so fast, too, it's not even a week since we lost you, you can't have covered all that ground on foot- sorry, I'll let you get a word or two in," he finished with a wry grin.

"Hey, don't worry, you're looking at a world-class babbler," Willow smiled. "Well, it's a long story..."

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Hellebore

by Chris Cook

Copyright © 2003

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