Hellebore by Chris Cook

Rating: R
Uber Setting: Diablo II
Disclaimer: Based on characters from Buffy The Vampire Slayer, created by Joss Whedon and his talented minionators, and Diablo II by Blizzard Entertainment. All original material is copyright 2003 Chris Cook.
Distribution: Through the Looking Glass http://alia.customer.netspace.net.au/glass.htm
The Mystic Muse http://mysticmuse.net
River Map City Map Willow and Tara's Bedroom
Feedback: Hell yeah!
Pairing: Willow/Tara

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

Tara sat quietly on the wide balcony, and waited. Her gaze, searching for something to occupy itself, scanned the panorama laid out before her: in the shadow of the mountains, huge trees rising around her, each massive trunk bearing part of the weight of Tran Athulua, the sprawling arboreal city that was her home. Or had been, she reflected ruefully – from the sounds of the conversation taking place inside the pavilion behind her, her fate would soon lie elsewhere.

Her keen ears picked out the raised voice of Solari, her weapons instructor, and the more placid tones of Eponin, mistress of her clan's house. They probably thought the sturdy pavilion wall sufficient to keep their conversation private, but Tara's hearing had always been good enough to zero in on a butterfly by the sound of its wings. She did her best not to pay too much attention to what she overheard, aware that it was private – but it was her life they were discussing, after all. And besides, she had been told to stay on the balcony, so on the balcony she stayed.

"It's not that she's not capable," Solari was insisting, accompanied by the dull sounds of her boots on the wooden floor as she indulged her habit of pacing rapidly to and fro as she spoke. "Kethryes!" she swore, "I wish half my students had her skills!"

"Then what is it?" came Eponin's voice, along with a soft noise like a sigh, as her shifted her weight on the silks covering her chair – probably crossed her legs beneath her, Tara guessed, she always did that when she decided she was in for a long debate. "If she can handle a bow and a spear well enough-"

"Oh, you have no idea!" insisted Solari. "'Well enough' – she could put an arrow through a wasp in flight, if she tried. Don't even start on javelins, I've had to separate her from the other girls these past six months, she's too good!"

"But perhaps she lacks the ability to focus? Excessive physical talent sometimes-"

"No," said Solari flatly, "I know what you mean – I was like that myself, remember? Could put a spear through a wild pig I could barely see, but couldn't muster more than a spark of lightning on the blade until well after my sixteenth year. She's not like that."

"Talented?" asked Eponin. Another sound as she shifted again – probably uncrossed her legs, Tara thought, that meant she was paying attention.

"Like you wouldn't believe," replied Solari. "I barely have to show her a focus and she masters it, it's uncanny. On the practice range she's the best I've ever seen – she can bullseye a target with her eyes closed, and blow it to pieces with fire if she wants, or lightning if she uses a spear."

"Oh, it's-" Solari's voice broke off and the sound of her pacing stopped for a moment before resuming at a slower pace. "I don't mean to become so agitated, forgive me, but…if you'd see her training you'd know. Any technical exercise she's phenomenal at, but put her against a living opponent and she just…I know we're not savages, but part of being a warrior is being a predator. I don't mean giving in to anger or bloodlust, but in the best of us it's always there, we use it. Like the men on the mainland use hunting dogs, you know? We let the dark, dangerous part of ourselves out just long enough to keep us alive and protect our homes, then rein it in before it does any more damage. Killer instinct."

"If she does, it's hidden deeper than I can find," Solari admitted, her voice sounding oddly frail. "Believe me, I've tried. If she had that fire in her, she'd be a champion before her thirtieth year."

"She doesn't want to fight?" asked Eponin. "That's not so uncommon, though? If she felt strongly enough to continue her training past the end of her childhood, then surely she'll be okay, if she's ever called upon to put her skills into practice."

"It's not a matter of wanting to," said Solari wearily, "I mean, she's very gentle, but she knows we need good warriors, and she knows that people like her, with her skills, are really all that stands between us and the pirate fleets, or the creatures from the jungle coast. But it's just that, it's something she knows, not something she feels. You can see it when she spars with the other girls – she can block any attack easily, she can fend off a trident with bare hands if need be, but she doesn't fight back enough. She tries, I'm sure she knows what's expected of her and Goddess knows she tries, but it's not…her body doesn't have the instincts to go for the kill, even in practice when they're just using sticks and pads. I don't know, maybe it's just a matter of perspective."

"Well, she knows it's just practice, she knows there's no threat to herself, or to anyone…but Zerae damn it, it's not like I can just wait until some slavers go on the march and push her into combat. Maybe she'll snap into it and do what has to be done, but you know what real fighting is like, it's not a game. It's certainly no place for a girl who may or may not have what it takes to face down an enemy who wants her dead and survive."

"Trial by fire," mused Eponin, "and you're right, we can't do that just because we think her talents might be wasted otherwise. But what do we do with her?"

"She's not happy," said Solari flatly, "she tries to hide it, but I can tell. She wants to do good, she believes she can, but we can't put her with a warrior pride without knowing she'll have a good chance of coming back alive. I've never had a pupil fall on her first expedition, Eponin, I won't allow it. If I can't prepare a girl well enough to survive, either that girl shouldn't be a warrior, or I should be replaced by someone who can train her."

"Maybe…" said Eponin cautiously. Solari's footsteps stopped, and Tara could feel her instructor's impatience as Eponin thought silently. "Ephiny wanted me to find someone to escort the expedition to Duncraig, not a warrior as such, more a…well, an emissary. Someone the noblemen there can deal with and know she's a true Amazon, but someone who won't scare the wits out of them. You remember what happened five years ago?"

"That was not my fault," said Solari hotly, but Tara could hear the amusement in her voice as she allowed Eponin to bait her.

"No, but breaking the prince-nephew's wrist just because he asked for a dance and didn't wait before taking your hand…you see what I mean. I wonder if Ephiny had Tara in mind? She knew you were coming to see me about her."

"Well, far be it from us to question the wisdom of our queen," said Eponin. "Maybe it'll be what the girl needs, too…she won't have to fight, there'll be guards all the way, our own on the ship and Duncraig's people will join them once they go inland."

"And once they reach the court, she'll charm the wits out of them… show off some skill with the bow without having to actually kill anything, attend a few banquets or whatever they do for diplomacy over there."

"But she'll get a chance to see the world," mused Solari, "yes, I see what you mean. It'll be good for her, no doubt…so long as she's safe, mind."

"Kingsport is as strong as it's ever been, and you know Duncraig, a bandit wouldn't go within a hundred miles of the place."

"I'll talk to her," said Solari after a pause, "if she agrees, will you make the arrangements?"

Outside, Tara had already made up her mind. A journey by sea sounded unappealing, since she had never set foot off the island, but the promise of seeing the wonders of the lands of men was too great to let her enthusiasm be damped. And besides, she agreed with Solari's idea – it would do her good to see some more of the world. She wanted to be of some use to someone, to have a chance to do good, and no matter how hard she tried, she knew that she wouldn't be able to do that as a warrior. Perhaps the mainland and its sprawling, ancient kingdoms would open up a new path for her.

Willow fidgeted in her seat, realized she was doing it, and forced herself to be still. She glanced for the hundredth time at the various tapestries and stained-glass windows that gave some color to the hall she was in. Otherwise there was only the cold stone of the church around her.

It had been morning when she had arrived here with Ember, her sponsor, and the woman had vanished within the council chambers, telling her to be patient. She had waited a long time, doing her best to occupy her mind with meditations and ordered thoughts. It wasn't until the sunlight was coming at a low angle through the west-facing windows that the ancient wooden doors swung silently open and Ember emerged. She glanced at Willow as she passed and gave a quick gesture, letting her know she should follow. Ember always liked to walk while she dealt with important things; as Willow fell into step at her sponsor's side she saw they were headed for the church's open cloister, where the gardens had been allowed to ramble all over the place and cover the stone columns with flowering vines.

"The council will see you tomorrow," Ember said once she had picked a flower and begun twirling it slowly through her fingers.

"I see," said Willow, trying to sound calm, for all that the idea of facing the council terrified her.

"Don't worry," said Ember, "it's all been decided already. Oh don't be surprised," she added, seeing Willow's wide eyes, "the session of council is often just a formality. The decisions are made by study and debate, not by arcane rituals. That's just for tradition's sake."

"I see," repeated Willow, now trying not to show her relief. The last thing she wanted was to go before the council and have to argue her case, with perhaps her life in the balance. But if they had already decided-

"Will they…" she began, then trailed off, unsure how to proceed. She was supposed to discover her fate tomorrow, not be told beforehand.

"It's alright," said Ember, "your bravery and initiative were recognized. And the situation was resolved, in the end. The council are cautious, but it is not wise to dwell too much on what might have been, had things turned out differently. I spoke on your behalf."

"Will I be exiled?" Willow asked in a rush, slightly amazed at her own presumption. Ember paused for a moment, then shook her head.

"No," she confirmed, "no, you will remain one of us. But it has been decided that you should not return to Entsteig, at least not for now. You will travel to Kurast, and then by sea to Kingsport. The council has decreed that you should see the magics of Westmarch. In an academic setting only, of course. There are several schools of sorcery with whom our order has good relations, you will travel to them all in time, and broaden your knowledge of their arts. The council feels that when you return to us, your skills will be tempered by greater wisdom."

Willow felt a mild rebuke there, and let her head droop in shame. Ember noticed, and stopped walking for a moment, settling herself with her customary elegance on one of the stone benches ringing the overgrown cloister garden. Willow sat by her side.

"What you did was very dangerous," Ember said, "more than you realize, even now. All magic is a risk. This world is…balanced for humans, good and evil. Magic makes us more than human, and gives us the ability to fight evils that are more than human. But if we are careless or thoughtless, even with the best of intentions we can do great evil, and the world cannot always heal itself as it should. It is the responsibility we bear, as we accept our gifts." She sighed and leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees and looking unusually pensive.

"We cannot know what might have happened," she went on, "whether what you did had a hand in saving many lives, or whether those lives would not have been in danger had you not intervened. We can only pass judgment as best we can, and look to the future."

"I wish I could," said Ember sadly, "but no. The council has asked me to remain here and assist with the new students." She took a moment to look at Willow, and smiled faintly. "Go now, and rest. I won't see you tomorrow, but my prayers go with you." She stood and embraced Willow gently, then took a step back and gestured that she was dismissed.

Tara was glad to be back on dry land. The voyage from Tran Athulua had taken a week aboard one of the twin-masted merchantmen that ran the trade route between the Amazon Isles and Kingsport, and while it hadn't exactly been unpleasant, Tara had found that every now and then she needed to get up on deck and fix her eyes on the stable, steady horizon to quell the unusual feeling in her stomach. She had hoped to see one of the giant trade flagships that Solari sometimes talked about, strong enough to brave the wild currents of the channel between the Twin Seas to the north, and reach the wealthy ports of Lut Gholein and Kurast, but they were few and far between, and none were expected to reach the Isles anytime soon.

Still, Tara had not been disappointed in her first experience with sea travel, mild nausea notwithstanding. The merchantman, named the Duchess Olivia, was a sleek vessel, if somewhat wider around the middle than the Amazon sloops Tara had seen moored off the coast of her home island, and Corius Marzon, the ship's captain, was a lively old man who took great and obvious pleasure in regaling his guests, over excellent dinners, with tales of the adventures he had seen in his younger days on the Great Ocean and the Sea of Light, far off to the east. Tara suspected some, if not all, of the stories had grown significantly in the telling over the years – if nothing else, she knew the flight of arrows and spears, which Marzon regularly exceeded in his accounts of the desperate battles he had witnessed – but the captain told a good tale, and she hadn't had the heart to interrupt. She suspected Tryptin, the head of the Amazon mission traveling with her, was equally skeptical, and had heard many of the tales before, but the quiet young man – being a diplomat – naturally let the captain believe he was enthralled by every word.

And after a week of good food, uneventful traveling and Tara wishing the waves would calm down a bit, the horizon of sea gave way to the southern edge of Westmarch. Tara had quickly made sure her few belongings were ready to be offloaded, and spent the rest of the day watching the land grow closer, the tiny dots become wallowing cargo ships and speedy launches, and the blurred shapes on the horizon become the stocky wood and stone buildings of Kingsport. Tara was impressed – she knew the city was one of the largest in Westmarch, the main port of trade for all those from the east who didn't fancy taking their chances with the caravan across the desert wasteland of Aranoch, but until she saw it with her own eyes she hadn't realized the scope of the construction. Everything in Tran Athulua was built in the trees, a part of the world as it had always been – homes, markets, official buildings and temples all supported by the great old trunks, the city a refinement, a civilized reworking of the forest itself. Tara had never before seen such a large community built on the ground, without the forest to support it. She wondered if the natives ever realized how artificial their home was, perched on bare land like a creature huddling down against the cold. Living in such a place seemed as strange as building a house with no supporting beams within it. Then again, she thought, perhaps to the people of Kingsport, the notion of an arboreal city was a fantastic and bizarre thing.

Not that building on open land didn't have its advantages, Tara mused, as she walked across the gangplank between the Duchess Olivia and the stone docks that stretched out into the bay before Kingsport. Until someone found a tree that likes growing with half its trunk underwater the Amazon cities were restricted to carrying out their loading and unloading of ships the old-fashioned way, with flotillas of launches moving between the moored vessels and the beaches. Tara took a moment to look back at the Duchess, which was already having its cargo unloaded by teams of men on the docks, using counterbalanced cranes that swung out over the deck of the ship – it was definitely more efficient.

It would take a few hours for the vessel to be completely offloaded and the Amazon mission to prepare itself to move from the docks, so Tara was free to explore the old city for a little while at least. Tryptin had given her a few pointers on how to get around and what to avoid, but Kingsport was known as a generally safe port for travelers, and Tara knew how to take care of herself if she had to. Besides, she thought with a tiny grin as she made her way along the dock towards the shore, she was not likely to be picked as an easy mark by any loitering robbers. Though the year was making its way inexorably towards winter, Kingsport was far enough south that the winds were still mild, so Tara wore no cloak or robe. Her light leather armor, built for speed and silent movement, was perhaps a little more revealing than she would have liked – strange, she mused to herself, she had never really considered it at home, but here where most people were covered from neck to ankle despite the warm sun on them, she was a little aware of the sidelong glances she was attracting. To be fair, though, the fact that she was carrying Solari's prized spear, Silverstrike, might account for a few of those. Tara's instructor had insisted she take the ancient weapon, a family heirloom that had no warrior heir, with Solari's children being all male. The polished shaft and curved moon-white blade certainly marked Tara as a warrior to passers-by, for all that she felt slightly overwhelmed to be carrying it.

She spent an enjoyable couple of hours browsing the busy markets that clustered around the docks, sampling the spices brought in from a dozen distant lands, and idly wondering what the vendors thought of an Amazon with an interest in cooking. She had drifted to the edge of the markets, near the older part of the city, a maze of two-story stone buildings and twisting alleyways, when she felt a tickle on the back of her neck. She quickly scanned the faces around her, knowing better than to ignore her instincts. Ignoring the boisterous crowds her senses homed in on anything out of place, shifting the buyers and sellers into the background for a moment. She caught a glimpse of a thin female form, underneath a long, hooded cloak, just as it disappeared into an alleyway, and noticed three unkempt-looking men slowly drifting out of the crowd, following her.

She knew at once they meant to rob her – the way they held their arms guaranteed they had weapons hidden up their sleeves, and their gait was uniformly too casual, as they forced themselves to appear to be merely wanderers, rather than the predators they really were. Tara was already moving towards them, sliding between stalls and moving behind the crowd, making sure she was unseen. Getting into a fight was the last thing on her mind, let alone starting one – on her first day in Westmarch, too – but three large men stalking one small woman offended her deeply, more than just the notion of robbery in itself. From their mannerisms and expressions, she judged the men to be nothing special, and hoped that the appearance of an obvious warrior with a lethal-looking spear would be enough to scare them off.

She reached the mouth of the alley barely seconds after the trio had disappeared, and saw as her eyes adjusted to the gloom that the woman had slowed down, seemingly unaware of the danger. The men were almost on top of her, one casually strolling alongside her, intending to overtake her and cut off her escape, the other two moving silently behind her.

"Gentlemen," Tara said loudly, "looking for something?" It wasn't the most inventive challenge – Tara was glad not to have stuttered – but it did the trick. The man in the lead took one look at her and sped up, disappearing around the next corner in his best impression of an innocent bystander. Of the other two, one swore and shot a glance after his vanishing comrade, and the other turned to Tara and let a small cudgel fall out of his sleeve into his hand. Tara raised her spear and let her mind become clear, creating the focus just like Solari had taught her, sending a swift, silent prayer to the goddess Zerae to aid her. A ripple of lightning ran along the shaft of the spear, really nothing more than a demonstration, but as it reached the spear's tip and leapt forward, earthing into the cobblestones at the robbers' feet, it had quite the desired impact. Tara stared levelly at them, and raised an eyebrow when they met her gaze – in truth, she hadn't been able to think of anything to say, but they took her point and ran nonetheless.

"A-are you alright?" she asked the women once her would-be assailants had vanished.

"Oh yesss," came a soft, sensual voice from the shadows beneath the hood, "I was in no dangerrr…but your kindnesss is most grrratifying." Tara nodded her acceptance, even as she tried to place the woman's accent – it was a strange one, hissing and purring alternately. The hood twitched, as if the person beneath it had tilted her head in curiosity.

Tara nodded again, then tried to contain her surprise as the woman drew back her hood and revealed a feline face, with wide, deep eyes, pointed ears and a flattened muzzle, all covered in fur so fine it looked like her skin was a glistening, sleek black, until the points of the tiny hairs caught the light.

"Few would go out of their way to help a strangerrr in a strange city," the feline woman said, as she and Tara walked along the edge of the market.

"You're a kind one," the woman said with a very catlike grin. "We have good instincts for people. You have cats in your home place?"

"Yes," Tara said, thinking of the very independent-minded cats that made their homes in the higher branches above the city.

"Well, you know they alwaysss spot who'll give them a rrrub behind the earsss," the woman said. Tara glanced at her, and realized she was making a sly joke.

"Don't get your hopes up," she said, smiling tentatively, "I'm j-just discouraging robbers." The woman grinned widely and made a purring sound that Tara guessed was her version of laughter.

"Heartbrrreaker," she teased. "Hmm, most of your kind act embarrassed if one of us draws attention to what we arrre…you're refreshing," she added with another grin – Tara was noticing she grinned a lot, and found it infectious. They came to a spacious tent set up in a corner of the market, where the cries of the food vendors gave way to the more sedate sounds of various wise men, mystics and fortune-tellers all subtly plying their trade with adventurous travelers.

"I am Mmrrrlrrr," said the feline woman, "as a frrriend, I invite you to my home." She said it formally, like a prayer or ritual, and Tara guessed it was a custom of her people. She thanked her and went inside, finding the tent comfortably-appointed, with a wooden floor and colorful tapestries covering the walls.

"Ma-re-la is alright," the woman said, following Tara in, "I don't think your voicesss quite have the knack of ourrr tongue."

"Ta-rrra," repeated Marela, "good name. Soundsss like 'night-eyesss' in my tongue, a good name."

"Th-thank you," said Tara, seating herself on a pile of cushions as Marela lounged opposite her, instantly looking comfortable and luxurious the way a cat would. "D-does your name translate?"

"You know," said Marela, twitching her tail idly, "I've been in this place five yearsss, and no-one has yet asked me? You're a strange people…just between you and me, in your language, it means 'Miss Kitty'." Tara bit the inside of her cheek to stifle a giggle. "I know," said Marela with a feline stretch, "but my motherrr was a traditionalist…besidesss, it's not an exact trrranslation. Saying it in human makes it sound…cute." She grinned and shrugged.

Tara and Marela chatted idly for a couple of hours, stopping once or twice as a customer peeked tentatively through the flaps of the tent, looking to have their fortune told. Tara sat off to one side on those occasions, as Marela purred in her speech more than usual, went through a few eccentric feline customs involving waving crystals around and scratching patterns on a thin wooden board with her claws, and generally making sure anyone who visited her came away with the impression that they'd got some genuine exotic wisdom. Tara recognized most of it as pure show, but something told her that Marela wove a bit of real magic into her act, dropping innocuous comments and advice into her spiel that seemed to take her customers by surprise.

When Tara finally had to take her leave of her new friend, seeing the sun beginning to set and knowing she should spend the night with the caravan, even though it wouldn't set out until the next morning, Marela asked her to wait a moment. Digging through a pile of cushions, which seemed to be the sole form of furniture for a feline, she produced a tiny amulet on a silver chain, which she offered to Tara.

"A token of grrratitude," she said, "for your selflessness, and your company. My pride is farrr away in the land your kind call Kehjistan, but if you should ever find yourself there, they will greet you as a guest, and know by thisss token that you are frrriendly to us." Tara thanked her and put on the amulet, which she thought matched her armor and spear nicely.

"And if you ever rrreconsider that rrrub behind the earsss," Marela added, her eyes wide, "you know where to find me, mmm." She winked at Tara and wound her arm in the material of the tent flap, letting her robe fall open at the side just enough for Tara to catch a glimpse of the side of her body and her leg, all covered in silky black fur and nothing else, except a stripe of white running up her thigh.

"Th-thank you," she stuttered, knowing Marela was teasing – well, half-teasing, at least – but still not quite sure how to respond. The feline smiled and disappeared back into her tent as Tara took a last glance back, then made her way out into the market.

She arrived back at the docks just as the sun was finally setting. The docklands and markets were still lit by dozens of torches, almost as bright as day, and Tara had no trouble finding the space where the Amazon mission had set itself up. Half a dozen wagons were surrounded by various teamsters, Amazon merchants and a contingent of Kingsport guards, a mere formality in peacetime, but one the city gratefully extended to the visiting Amazons, knowing full well how valuable they would be as allies if times turned worse. Tryptin was chatting easily with the lieutenant commanding the guards, and took a moment out to direct Tara to the covered wagon she would be traveling in when they went on the road the next day.

"Oh," he added as Tara was walking away, "there's another traveler in there with you, hope you don't mind. Apprentice wizard or something, her credentials checked out, she'll be with us as far as Duncraig. Call me if you need anything." He didn't seem concerned at all, so neither was Tara as she drew back the canvas flap covering the rear of the wagon and stepped up and inside.

"Oh! Um, hi," said a voice from inside. As Tara's eyes adjusted to the low light of a single lamp, she saw a slim young woman sitting among a pile of bags and satchels, an open book in her hands, her bright eyes staring at Tara in wonder.

Willow finally finished stowing her traveling gear and satchels in the wagon and sat down among them with an exhausted sigh. She had been taught to travel light, and could survive for weeks with only the wilderness and the contents a small backpack to keep her going, but her training had omitted certain aspects of life on the road. Specifically, how to cope with being used as a pack-mule for the Order's library.

She frowned, remembering her appearance before the council. They had, at the time, seemed quite reasonable, much more like kindly old women than the stern matriarchs Willow had expected. Their speaker, a sorceress in her mid-fifties wearing white robes, had done her best to put Willow at ease as she stood before them, intimidated both by her surroundings and the knowledge of the power the council had over her. Ahead of her sat the council, six sorceresses in pairs representing the three elemental schools, and behind each pair stood one of the blind Oracles, who were the most sought-after type of initiate, and who never left the church once they had been brought in. To one side of the council, on Willow's right, stood a column of sandstone, deep red even in the gloom of the council chamber, seeming to glow from within – fire. To her left, a column of obsidian covered in an oily film that crackled softly as tiny sparks ran across it – lightning. Behind her stood the third column, made of ice that never melted, and she privately wondered if it was coincidence that the element she was most attuned to was the one positioned out of her view. The speaker, she noted, was from the lightning triad, and none of the ice triad ever spoke during her hearing, except to quietly pass their decision to the speaker.

"It has been decided," the speaker had said, her kind voice taking on an unfamiliar formality, "that while your courage and your desire to serve are proven, your natural aptitude towards magic has left you wanting in the more scholarly aspects of our tradition. It is as much our failing as any other's that you lack this insight, for all those we take among us are unique, and we forget that at our peril. Nevertheless, the failing has occurred, and must be rectified before you may return to Entsteig and your training.

"We therefore bestow upon you the duty to be our representative among the great schools of magics in Westmarch and Khanduras. It is necessary that one of our Order visit these places, for while their magics are not ours, and we do not wish them to be, our devotion to the pure magic of the elements does not mandate that we go in ignorance of lesser mages.

"You will be given funds and authority to study with mages and tutors who, though outsiders, are known and trusted by our Order. You will not practice their magics, but you will understand them, and bring your understanding to us when you return. They will no doubt give you many books and manuscripts for our library, but written words can only go so far – we require the insight that only first-hand knowledge can bring.

"While you perform this service to the Order, it is our hope that you will come to better understand our place within the world, and the place of our magics within the magic of nature. Thus you will acquire the learning we have so far neglected to offer you, and know why it is that we devote ourselves only to the purest ways.

It had sounded good at the time, for Willow had always been aware that the requirements of the Order seemed unnecessarily restrictive, particularly their sole devotion to elemental magic. Yet all her tutors and seniors, including many powerful, wise women – Ember not least among them – accepted it without question. Willow was not so headstrong as to assume that they were merely afraid of other magics, so clearly there was a good reason, but so far she had failed to discover what it was. She had been told that impure magics were dangerous, liable to fail in unfortunate ways, or to cause untold harm to their practitioners, but that was true of any magic. Certainly elemental magic had more than its share of dangers attached, as any fool could see – trying to control a bolt of lightning strong enough to shatter a boulder, or an inferno that could melt steel, with only the power of one's mind was not a pursuit for the faint-hearted. Perhaps, then, the council had been right, and Willow did need to see other magics for herself, to find out why they were different.

She was now coming to believe, however, that her assignment to this task was more a matter of convenience than design. Following the instructions she had been given, she spent her first day in Kingsport after a tempestuous voyage through the Twin Seas seeking out four old mages who had made their homes in the city, two of them attached to the reformed Horadrim church, one of them a cleric of some minor order Willow wasn't too sure she understood, and the last a wizened old alchemist who, by the look of things, hadn't left his laboratory since before the Reckoning twenty years ago. Each of them had politely welcomed her, retrieved various scrolls, leather-bound volumes, maps and charts for her to take back to the Order, and just as politely shuffled her back out the door again. Grumbling to herself while stowing all of them in waterproof satchels and finding space for them in the wagon she had been placed in by the caravan master, she wondered if the council had just wanted her out of the way for a while.

The next morning Willow was surprised to see people being turned away from the caravan. This in itself was not unusual – when she had been in Entsteig there had always been more travelers seeking the safety of the caravans than could be accommodated, and the road between Kingsport and Duncraig saw far more travelers than anywhere in the north, even with the wealthy avoiding it in favor of the luxurious riverboats. But, so far as Willow could see, she and a pair of men – a gemstone dealer and his bodyguard, in the third wagon – were the only passengers among the half a dozen wagons.

After breakfast she asked Shan, the caravan master, what was going on in one of the rare moments when he wasn't being beset by hopeful merchants and travelers.

"Big party coming in today," he explained, in the terse manner Willow was beginning to think was a habit for him, "ship arrives soon, the Duchess Olivia. Booked the whole caravan months ago. Only needed five wagons, and we've got six, otherwise you and Jasken," he indicated the gem dealer, who was haggling with a trader outside his wagon, "would've had to wait. Diplomatic expedition, to the Baron's palace, then up to Duncraig to see the Regent. We'll take on new passengers then." He turned away as a group of wealthy-looking men began trying to bargain with him.

The caravan was parked near the docks, with only a handful of stalls and tents separating them. Willow kept out of the way of the teams of men moving cargo about, and found a foreman who didn't look like he had anything vital to do at the moment. She frowned as his eyes went to her figure first, but he straightened up and behaved more respectably once he noticed the Zann Esu sash around her waist and the staff in her hand, the wood inlaid with glittering veins of crystal.

"Ma'am," he said, adopting what he evidently hoped was a sufficiently contrite expression.

"No, ma'am," the foreman said hurriedly, "not yet, she's due this morning though and by all account the weather's been good on her course, so she should be in sight any time now. Are you boarding her, ma'am?"

"Oh," said the foreman. "They're from Philios, you know, ma'am," he added hesitantly. Having not been turned into a frog, or whatever he seemed to fear was the result of inadvertently checking out a sorceress, he seemed to be regaining his nerve.

"Is that so?" said Willow icily. The foreman nodded, glanced around, hastily bowed a farewell and scampered away. Willow stared out to sea for a moment, wondering if any of the dim blurs on the horizon were ships, or just her imagination, then wandered back to her wagon.

She thought 'Philios' sounded like somewhere up on the Westmarch peninsula, but she couldn't find it there when she consulted one of the maps she had been given from the Order's library. She found a larger-scale map and scanned it lazily, hoping the name would catch her eye – the cartographers employed by the Order seemed to favor detail over clarity sometimes. She glanced over the coastline of Westmarch, the Gulf and even Entsteig, just in case she hadn't heard of the place when she had been there, all without result. It was only when she was on the verge of folding the map away that she chanced on the name, and her eyes widened. She double-checked, but she had read it correctly: Skovos, Lycander, Philios – the Amazon Isles.

Well, she thought, this should be interesting. She had never met an Amazon, but Ember had sometimes mentioned them, on the rare occasions she spoke of the Reckoning. Willow searched through the provisions she had brought with her, and found what she was looking for. Before she had been sent to Entsteig, Ember had given her a book she had written, a notebook she had made during her own travels. It was a rambling, disorganized volume the older woman had added to whenever she had thought something worth recording, but perhaps… Willow flipped through the pages, past instructions for mixing herbs, how to bury the dead to prevent reanimation, the methods of creating various staves imbued with elemental powers, what various shapes of clouds revealed about the state of the winds in the sky and sketches of dozens of minor predators, including instructions for dealing with them. Finally a quick drawing of a spear caught her eye – Amazons were spearwomen, she knew – and she read in more detail.

'It would no doubt amuse many to know,' Ember had written, 'that the reclusive Amazons are, in fact, among us in all the nations of Sanctuary. Though most, besides the nobility, hear only wild rumors of warrior-women, there are in truth as many men as women who serve the Amazon nation. And while the women, great warriors and mages after a fashion, remain on their island homes to protect them, their men travel widely as merchants, diplomats, teachers and apprentices in all trades. Thus their nation remains in contact with those of the mainland, their people learn new skills and crafts, and the majority of their women take husbands and live in a fashion not very much dissimilar to that of other nations, which would no doubt come as something of a disappointment to the brainless alcoholics who frequent the taverns around here, and tell lurid tales of tribes of women and their sexual exploits, which would, I imagine, cause a real Amazon to laugh aloud, were any of these fools to tell their tales in her presence. I must find better lodgings.' Part of the problem with Ember's notebook was that, though she was a perceptive observer of practically every aspect of the world around her, she tended to get sidetracked when it came to writing things down, particularly on her travels when she hadn't had the peace and quiet of the Order's church. Willow skimmed the next couple of paragraphs, which complained some more about the less sober denizens of Khanduras, where Ember had evidently been while she wrote this section, and related an amusing incident involving a man who hadn't known better than to make an indecent suggestion to a sorceress, and had left the tavern swearing never to drink again, unharmed but with his clothes burned to ash.

'It seems that this time of chaos,' Ember had written a few days later, 'has drawn the warriors of the Amazon nation out of their seclusion, so that they walk among us and sometimes, if one is fortunate, can be persuaded to exchange a little of their knowledge. My companion of the last few days is quite amiable, though she affects a stern countenance in public, and I have learned as much about her ways of magic as she has learned about the elements from me. Of the reason for her presence in this place at this time she has been vague, and I suspect that behind this secrecy lies some source of knowledge akin to our oracles. But it is certain that, as our Order has, the Amazons too have foreseen the rise of the Prime Evils, and sent their finest warriors to aid the cause of order.' She seemed to have stopped writing for a while there, because the next paragraph was in a different ink, and on the subject of the mastery of fire magic, which Ember had studied all her life. Willow searched the surrounding pages for more details, but there seemed to be none.

She had to admit she was a little disappointed. She had assumed there were Amazon men, of course – how else would they get more Amazons? – but she would have liked to have met a warrior. But the Reckoning, the great battle against the Prime Evils, had been twenty years ago, and since then the Amazon women had been just as scarce as they had been before. Willow doubted a diplomatic expedition to Duncraig required the presence of any warriors. She had been forming the idea of waiting on the docks, to watch the Amazons arrive, but though she was sure their men would be amiable enough traveling companions, she couldn't quite muster any enthusiasm.

She sighed and returned the notebook and maps to their satchels, then went out in search of supplies and lunch. Afterwards, for want of anything else to do, she came back to the wagon and read some more of Ember's notebook, picking a page at random and discovering all sorts of things she had never really considered about minor demons, the wielding of a staff as a melee weapon in an emergency, and which parts of the imp species called 'Fallen' were edible, if the only other option was starvation. Ember had led an adventurous life. Willow saw the name Deckard Cain in the text, surprised that her sponsor had met the famous Horadrim scholar before he disappeared, and began vaguely searching through a copy of one of his manuscripts that she had acquired the previous day. Unlike Ember, the old man seemed to have an aversion to writing down anything he didn't consider absolutely necessary – the text dealt mainly with the relations between various species of demons, and read like a particularly dull textbook. Willow was just about to stow her books and head out for dinner when someone pulled up the canvas flap at the back of the wagon and climbed inside.

"Oh!" exclaimed Willow, seeing torchlight, not sunlight, outside, and realizing how long she had been reading. "Um, hi," she added, as her visitor reacted to her. Willow had greeted her automatically, and only now took in what she was seeing: an athletic figure, clothed in leather armor, which was cut to allow a lot of freedom of movement, and – Willow tried not to stare at the woman's ample cleavage, on display as she climbed into the wagon – leaving no doubt that the Amazons had brought a warrior along after all. Willow fixed her gaze resolutely on the Amazon's face – the last thing she wanted was to offend her – and found a surprisingly gentle gaze staring back at her, not at all the stern Valkyrie warrioress she had imagined.

"I-I'm Tara," she said, smiling at her companion. She hadn't really given it much thought when Tryptin had told her she'd be traveling with an apprentice wizard, but a vague notion of a pale-skinned boy in pretentious robes and a pile of books had passed through her mind. Instead, she found herself sharing the wagon with an attractive redhead with a spritely smile, robes that were cut with far more style than Tara would have expected, and if her skin was pale, it didn't exactly put Tara in mind of someone who never saw the sun, so much as make her entertain some surprising thoughts about what it would feel like to touch. In deference to stereotypes, however, she was in the middle of a pile of books.

"So, you're an Amazon, huh?" asked Willow, and before Tara could give the obvious answer, she went on: "Well, yeah, obviously you are, I guess you don't get many cases of mistaken identity with the armor and the spear and all…"

"No," agreed Tara. "I m-mean, yes. Yes, I'm an Amazon," she explained at Willow's confused stare, "and no, not much mistaken identity…it's the spear."

"And the armor," insisted Willow, "I'm sure people just look at that armor and think, 'yep, she's an Amazon all right'…because it's Amazon-y armor, not for any other reason with people looking at you, of course…I really don't know what I'm saying," she finished pleadingly.

"Um, we c-could start again?" suggested Tara, too caught up in the surprise and the momentum of the conversation to think straight. "Hi, I'm Tara?"

Tara saw Willow set her jaw, and their eyes locked for a long moment. Both of them broke into a fit of laughter at the same time. Once Tara had managed to rein herself back to a grin she pulled her spear fully inside the wagon, and leaned out to grab her pack and bow from where she had left them on the ground.

"Here, let me get that," offered Willow, sliding herself forward to help Tara with the spear. "Unless it's some sort of mortal offence to, you know, touch an Amazon's spear, it isn't, is it? Cause if it is, I'm sorry," she finished in a small voice.

"Um, it isn't, a-and thanks," said Tara, handing her the spear and, with both hands, hauling her pack up into the wagon. "It's not really mine anyway, my instructor gave it to me for the trip. Will it fit?"

"Yep," said Willow, kicking one of her satchels out of the way to make room for the weapon. She noticed the odd way the light of the lamp was reflecting off its shaft.

"Um, I-I don't really know," said Tara, stowing her pack and sitting by Willow's side, "it's an old weapon, it's been in my instructor's family for generations. Th-there's only a couple of people who know how they're made, I'm really not sure."

Willow nodded absently, her eyes following the veins of metal buried in the polished wood. It suddenly occurred to her that her new companion might not want her going over every detail of her weapon, especially if it was as unique as she said. It was probably a secret Amazon design, or something. She helped Tara store the spear up against the wagon's side, where it wouldn't get in the way, and started moving her satchels up into a corner.

"Sorry about this," she explained, "I got a bit distracted reading, or I'd have cleaned up a bit before you got here. I was going to watch your ship come on, but I guess I lost track of time. Um, did you have a good journey?"

"Yes, it was…nice," said Tara, not really sure how to describe her non-eventful trip. "Were y-you waiting long?"

"Oh, no, I got here yesterday, and I had people to see…I'm sort of on a learning expedition, hence the traveling library."

"O-our negotiator said y-you were a-an apprentice," said Tara hesitantly, "d-do you have a…a master, or mistress, or someone?"

"No, just me," answered Willow, "I'm not an apprentice… well, I am sort of, but…my Order doesn't do apprentices, exactly, we have sponsors who, I guess, take care of us, but it's more of a group thing, we learn from everyone. But at the moment it's just me, anyway."

"No, not yet, I've got some camp food, you're welcome to have some if you want, but it's a bit, you know, ration-y and boring…"

"Th-there's a tavern just nearby," suggested Tara, "I was going to try there. I-if you'd like to come?"

There was a sign outside the tavern, in Westlin and Khejan, letting the patrons know that weapons were strictly forbidden. Tara was about to go back to the caravan and ask Tryptin to mind the spear – she hadn't wanted to leave it unattended in the wagon – when the barkeep hurried outside and, in his best attempt at a formal manner, invited the two women in, promising his best table and making a tongue-tied mess of reciting the day's special dishes. Willow, who had noticed Tara's hesitation at the sign, caught her eye and shrugged.

"Maybe having an Amazon stop by is good for the place's reputation," she suggested, as the barkeep darted away for a moment to harass one of the serving boys. He returned a moment later, ushering them through the main room to the far side, where there was a row of two-person tables, separated from each other by thin wooden partitions and offering a view of the marketplace outside. The serving boy scurried to the corner table and laid a cloth over it, and one over each seat, while the barkeep led them through the crowd. The tavern's patrons, a fairly civilized lot all things considered, made way grudgingly for the barkeep, and quickly for Tara. Willow glared at one of them, whose eyes slid inexorably to the rear view of Tara as she passed, then smiled wryly at herself.

"This is pretty good," she said as she sat down, passing her staff to Tara, who leant it and her spear in the corner, out of reach of anyone passing by the table. A light breeze wafting over the markets kept the air fresh, with a hint of exotic spices and pleasant-smelling who-knows-what from the stalls outside, and the men crowded at the bar and the tables around it were cheerfully alcoholic, by the sounds of it, rather than outright noisily drunk.

"I-is it?" said Tara. "I mean, yes, I like it…this is the first tavern I've been to. Away from home, I mean. So, you know, as far as I know they're all like this."

"Well, I've stayed in my share of taverns in Entsteig," Willow said with a rueful grin, "and trust me, you don't want to know how loud a roomful of drunk men can get. For a harbor city, this is very nearly civilized." On cue, a roar of laughter erupted from the other side of the bar, where someone had managed to land a dart in the dartboard backwards. "More or less," Willow amended. The serving boy appeared, obviously having been instructed to be on his most formal best behavior, bowing and saying 'ma'am' a lot more than necessary. Willow thought the soup sounded good, while Tara chose a salad.

"It's not really that different to home, I guess," said Tara a moment later, her eyes scanning the crowd.

"Apart from the women, I mean," Tara went on, "at home it'd be the women getting drunk and being loud, and the men sort of good-naturedly putting up with them. Here it's the other way around." She watched as a man in the middle of the room burped impressively, them shamefacedly apologized to his companion, who rolled her eyes.

"Most of them probably don't know there are Amazon men," said Willow, remembering Ember's notebook. She added in a low voice, with a sly smile: "I think it'd spoil their fantasies if they knew." Tara stifled a giggle, and blushed adorably.

"Th-there are stories that go around in the training barracks," she said, "that the men overhear when they travel, and bring back, about what people think Amazons are like. It's kind of funny, really…this fantasy image of dominating seductresses with no armor and enormous…" she gestured vaguely at her chest. "I mean, yes, most women are warriors, but…well, we're still just people. Most warriors, once they've served their time in the prides, find a man and settle down."

"Oh," said Willow, and then, for no reason she could pin down, added: "Most?" Tara seemed surprised by the question, and didn't meet Willow's gaze, dipping her head instead to hide her eyes behind her hair.

"M-men aren't for e-everyone," she said quietly. There was an uncomfortable silence for a moment, as Willow tried to think of something to say, until Tara abruptly asked: "S-so, you're from Entsteig?"

"Oh, not originally," said Willow, glad to be clear of the unexpected undertone the conversation was causing in her, "I was sent there, part of my training. The Order has a city in Kehjistan, up-river from Kurast…it's kind of a secret, but it doesn't really matter, there's a lot of 'up-river from Kurast' to get lost in if you don't know where you're going. I was born up on the Westmarch peninsula, but the Order came and took me when was seven."

"Yep. Oh, not like grabbing me in the middle of the night, or anything," Willow hastened to explain, "no, it's how the Order works, they assess girls who might have the talent for magic, and those that do get to go with them and train. It's an honor, really…I actually can't remember my parents ever being happier than when I was chosen," she added, with a slight hint of resentfulness. Tara decided to steer clear of the subject of Willow's parents.

"My instructor," Tara explained, "she met a sorceress once. She told me a little about her."

"All good, I hope?" joked Willow. "We used to be really big with the secrecy, but since the Reckoning the Order's kept a presence in a few cities here and there. We don't travel in disguise anymore, we used to, you know. My sponsor said that when she traveled during the Reckoning, it was the first time in a thousand years that a sorceress had been seen outside the church – that's our city, ages ago it was just the one building, it's expanded a lot but we still call it that – what was I saying? – oh, yes, the first time a sorceress had traveled as a sorceress. Not in disguise, I mean. Part of the training used to be social skills, how to blend in anywhere, pretend to be anyone."

"Like us," said Tara. "Amazons, I mean. Amazon men – they travel, but no-one knows who they are."

"Right," agreed Willow, "it used to be a big clandestine operation thing. That was way before my time, of course. Ember – my sponsor – says the whole point was that no-one outside the Order knew we existed, so none of the evil forces that were coming could plan against us. Then the evil forces did come, and Ember and the others, the best the Order had, went out and fought the Reckoning. And now it's all over, people are used to seeing sorceresses around."

"Your sponsor fought in the Reckoning?" asked Tara. "Actually in the campaign itself?"

"I think so," said Willow, "she doesn't talk about it much. She drops hints now and then. Just between us, I think she likes being mysterious." Tara grinned.

"So you came here from Entsteig?" she asked, after a pause while their meals arrived.

"Not quite," said Willow, "I was supposed to finish my training there, but there was a problem…there was an accident. I tried to help, but I didn't…I didn't work magic the way a sorceress is supposed to. It all worked out alright in the end," she added, with a smile Tara could sense was covering up something painful, "but it could've gone badly. So I went back to the church, for the Council, the heads of the Order, to decide what to do with me."

"Here, Duncraig, Westmarch," Willow explained, "There's a lot of mages and sorcerers, not part of the Order, but friendly to it. I'm supposed to study with them, so I can learn more about the nature of magic. Something like that. The Order just teaches elemental magic, and the Council decided I needed to know how other sorts of magic worked."

"So I can not do them," said Willow with a regretful frown. "The Zann Esu are elementalists only…before the Reckoning, all of the mage clans except ours had problems with corruption, demons tricking mages into serving them, or becoming too powerful and dangerous. The Esu witches, when they formed the Zann Esu, decided to practice only elemental magic, because the elements are pure, they can't contain demonic influence. They decided the only way to avoid becoming tainted was to avoid all other magic completely. Even with the Reckoning done, there's still demons around, and the Council is still pretty wary of other kinds of magic. They didn't exactly say so, but I think they're hoping I'll learn that all magic other than the elements are dangerous, and stop being interested in them."

"I do, kind of," admitted Willow with a frown, "some magic is just plain suicidal…demonic magic, for instance, summoning a demon and trying to get it to do what you want isn't really the brightest idea. Not that that stops people, though – it's easy, that's the problem, the demons want to be summoned, so any fool can do it if they find the right book. Still, I used to wonder if there was something to learn in it. Not actually summoning," she added quickly, "but just studying demons, seeing how they work, how they can exist here, how to send them back where they came from." She stopped, and smiled at herself.

"And that's what the Council was worried about, and they're right," she said sadly, "you start off with some girl wondering how you reverse a simple summoning, and then she gets too interested in demonology, and before you know it you've got the next Bartuc on your hands."

"Hm? Oh, an old mage," Willow said, "he wasn't careful enough with his magic, and ended up decimating his clan when the demons got control of him. That all happened ages ago…third century, I think. The mage war between Bartuc and his brother were what drove the Esu witches into seclusion, or maybe it was just after that. Doesn't matter. That's the problem, though, most of the clans forbid some sorts of magic, but there's always some bratty kid who wants to know why. That's me," she added with a smile.

"Um, I suppose," Tara said hesitantly, "sort of magic. Well, it's not our magic, it comes from our gods. Some of them watch over our warriors, a-and we can use their power. If we can call on it, that's the tricky part. It's called creating a focus, we do it with spears and bows, because they're our traditional weapons, and they're part of who the gods are. There's a way of," she concentrated, wondering how to explain it, "making the weapon into something that is almost magical, a-a place where magic can be. Not everyone can do it. But when you do, it means that you can tap a little of the powers of the gods, and bring them into the world through the focus, through the weapon."

"I've never heard of magic working like that," said Willow, whose eyes had fixed on Tara in fascination as she had described it. "Can you do it?"

"Yes," admitted Tara, "I've got a sort of talent for it. It runs in families, not always, but often. I'll show you some time, if you'd like."

Willow was just starting to enjoy her soup when a shadow fell across the table. She and Tara looked up to see a broad-shouldered man, who evidently had a decent cargo of beer aboard, and sported a protruding stomach that said it wasn't the first time.

"We're not drinking," said Willow, assuming what she hoped would be an intimidating glare.

"Why not? S'good for you, having a drink after a long day's work. Hey," he added, leering at Willow, "that's a nice outfit. C'mon, gimme your hand, we'll have a dance."

Tara reached back to the shaft of her spear – just for a quick shock, nothing more, she promised herself – but to her surprise Willow's hand was already reaching lazily up towards the man. He began to reach for it, but stopped instantly as the air in front of him began to turn white. Between Willow's fingertips and his face a freezing mist appeared, and in an instant coalesced into a sharp icicle, with tiny slivers and barbs all over it. It was there for just the briefest fraction of a second, then it melted away in a flash, leaving only a wet stain of condensation on the man's tunic, and another patch of wetness lower down that was entirely of his own making.

He stood rooted to the spot for a second, then lurched backwards in fright, into the none-too-gentle arms of the barkeep, who manhandled him around into the arms of a pair of the tavern's patrons, who in turn hauled him out the door.

"My deepest apologies, ladies," the barkeep was meanwhile insisting, "I turned my back for a second, I swear…he's not dangerous, of course, or I wouldn't have him in here, just sometimes he gets a bit too cheerful, if you know what I mean, but that's no excuse, I know, I can't think what to say…the meals are on the house, of course, I couldn't ask anything after letting you be interrupted like that…"

"I-it's no problem," said Tara, somewhat taken aback by the barkeep's profuse apologies, and his habit of bowing when nervous.

"Oh, you're too gracious, ladies, you really are," he said, with yet another bow. "But I insist, I won't sleep at night taking your money." Willow and Tara couldn't budge him, and after a moment it became clear that he was only becoming more agitated as they politely argued.

"Well, I suppose that solves the problem of who gets the bill," Tara said with a shy smile after the barkeep had gone back to his bar.

"Guess so," agreed Willow. "Hey, I bet that guy hasn't gone far.. if we catch up with him, we could take him with us, we'd never have to pay for meals again." Tara laughed, which made Willow laugh, and the barkeep, seeing them from across the room, heaved a sigh of relief at not having unwittingly brought some sort of Amazonian curse of vengeance on his head. Nice girls, he thought to himself as he attended to his customers, very polite, you'd hardly know they were jungle warrioresses at all. He found himself vaguely wishing he were twenty years younger, and not married, but then again, judging by the looks and laughs the pair were exchanging, he wouldn't have had a chance anyway. He confined himself to making sure his remaining patrons didn't do anything stupid and staring down anyone who seemed to be glancing over at the pair of women too regularly. He felt vaguely relieved when they finished their meals and got up to leave, but the pair of smiles he received when he showed them out made it all worthwhile.

Willow woke up for the fourth time, blearily blinking her eyes. This time is was sunlight, not torchlight, that glowed through the canvas cover on the wagon, so she reluctantly decided it was time to get up. For a moment she longed for her room back at the hospice in Entsteig, where she had generally slept soundly and late. The feeling of gently sliding out of sleep, curled up in a warm bed and thoroughly rested, was always well worth the stern glances she had received from her tutors when she arrived for lessons ten minutes late. 'But of course,' she thought with a frown, 'the hospice is gone now.' She shut down that train of thought at once, and silently cursed traveling in general, which seemed to upset her sleeping patterns.

She rubbed her eyes for a moment, then rolled over. Tara was sleeping peacefully beside her – the wagon afforded them just enough space to lay their bedrolls out side by side, without ending up on top of each other. Willow smiled at the thought, then her face creased into a confused frown as she contemplated the reason why.

'First time I've felt that way about a girl,' she mused. Then again, it occurred to her that she'd never really felt 'that way' about anyone, male or female. She wondered why she felt so unsettled by the notion. While the world in general regarded love between two women – or two men, almost as frequently – as something to be frowned upon, if not actively persecuted, the Order had always rejected such arbitrary discrimination out of hand. Willow wondered if it was an ideological matter, or simply the fact that all sorceresses, up until recently, had lived their entire adult lives in a city populated almost solely by women. Well, she reasoned, it was hardly surprising that many of the Order's women turned to each other when they felt the need for companionship and love. And from what Tara had said the night before, there was no particular stigma attached to it in Amazon society either.

Of course, the Order's official position was that romantic relationships of any sort were liable to distract a sorceress from her pursuit of mastery of the pure elements. Unofficially, however, the Order recognized that most people, if denied the opportunity to have some sort of intimate relationship – even if only a casual fling now and then – would go a bit strange in the head. So far as Willow knew, the Order had always turned a blind eye to the personal activities of its sorceresses, so long as there was no threat to the Order, or the purity of its members. Of course, that last point tended to rule out the notion of a sorceress getting involved with a mage of any sort…but not necessarily, Willow had a vague notion that, several times, magic users from other orders had been granted special dispensation by the Council to live in the church city. She wondered what the Council's attitude towards Amazon magic was. The way Tara had described it, it sounded like a novel combination of prime magic and holy magic, neither of which were inherently corrupt in the eyes of the Order…

At that point, Willow stopped and wryly marveled at her own ability to get lost in her flights of fancy. She had known Tara all of half a day, and already she was contemplating how best to approach the Council for permission to take her as her partner. 'You could at least ask her first,' she jokingly chided herself.

She remembered how, more than a year ago, Ember had given her advice on the matter of love and infatuation, when Willow had been training at the hospice and one of the trainee doctors had taken more than a casual liking to her. He had been quite persistent, in a sweet way, and she had eventually gone to her sponsor for advice on how to discourage him without hurting his feelings unduly.

'Oh, gods, first love,' she had sighed with a smile, 'well, he'll get his feelings hurt one way or another, but he'll get over it. That's how it goes – everyone, more or less, is certain that their first love is the one and only love of their life. Don't ask me why, it's nothing to do with fire, except in the poetic sense, so it's not my field of expertise. Besides, I doubt anyone really understands why people are the way they are, not even the gods themselves – that's why they take such an interest in us, because we surprise them constantly.'

'So it's just a phase?' Willow had asked, slightly worried at the apparent intensity of the boy's affection for her – she would be relieved to find that it was something he would get over, and that her refusal wouldn't doom him to a life of solitary longing.

'Probably,' Ember had said. 'If you don't have feelings for him, don't try to manufacture them just because you feel obligated to – that wouldn't work, even if he were completely sincere. No, poor choice of words – he's sincere, but…well, he's a young man in love for the first time, that's just how it works. In all likelihood, he'll move on, and fall for someone else, and after a while he'll have grown up enough to make a good partner for somebody.' She shrugged. 'That's first love for you.'

'I know,' Ember had said quietly, 'but he'll get over it. Just as you will with your first. Then again, maybe you'll be one of the charmed few for whom first love is true love.' Willow had studied her sponsor's face, looking for a trace of humor, but she seemed completely serious. She noticed Willow's scrutiny.

Willow considered her situation dispassionately, or at least the closest she could manage having just woken up from a not particularly restful sleep. 'So, Willow,' she asked herself, 'do you really love her? Or is it just a passing infatuation, and are you letting your emotions get the better of you?'

She had to conclude that evidence pointed to the latter. She barely knew Tara, having spent less time with her than with some fellow trainees that she hadn't known well enough even to consider friends. She knew little of the girl's life, her experiences, what they had in common and how they differed. And, for that matter, she was traveling alone for the first time in her life, on an assignment that virtually ensured she would feel lonely and unimportant for a while. So was it any surprise that she found herself responding in such a magnetic way to this attractive young woman who was to share her life, as a traveling companion at least, for the foreseeable future? Particularly seeing as, if her behavior the previous night was anything to judge by, she was preternaturally warm and kind? In all likelihood, Willow concluded, her apparent attraction to Tara was simply a matter of Tara having provided a kind influence at a point when Willow's life was looking fairly glum. It would presumably pass in due course, and the best thing, she decided, would be to ignore her infatuation and not let herself get distracted by it. She nodded to herself, as if trying to cement her resolve.

'Okay, forget that plan, it's a stupid plan,' she thought to herself after ten minutes. A moment later she noticed that Tara, lying on her back, was snoring ever so softly. Willow thought it was the most adorable thing she had ever heard.

'Oh yeah,' she thought to herself, around the twenty minute mark, 'you've got it bad.'

"Hmm?" Tara seemed surprised by the question, and apparently hadn't noticed that Willow had been studying her remote, intent expression for the past few minutes as the caravan moved slowly out of the city. With the skies clear they had rolled up the canvas roof of the wagon, and had both been silently taking in the view as the caravan captain called back to his deputies and the procession of vehicles and beasts got underway. After a moment their surroundings were completely new to them, as they moved away from the docks and markets, through streets lined with houses and small stores, and even a few small parks, each with its own well and a statue representing some figure of importance. The Amazon men had all found positions on the wagons and carts that allowed them good views of the scenery. Tara had done likewise, and after a little while Willow had found herself trying to work out what was prompting her odd, thoughtful expression.

"Oh," said Tara, "well, I don't know if you'd call it interesting…I was just thinking of something I noticed yesterday. Or m-maybe just something I'm imagining, I don't know." She glanced at Willow, who put on her best intrigued expression, which was enough for her to continue. She gestured vaguely to the buildings on either side of them.

"The whole city seems…" she paused, looking for the right word, "transient, I guess. Compared to home, I mean."

Willow regarded the buildings around them for a few seconds – sturdy wooden constructs, some of the larger and more affluent homes made from stone, in part or entirely. She certainly wouldn't have thought they looked less than permanent. She suspected Tara meant something else

"Not like that," Tara smiled, lightly swatting Willow in the stomach, "I mean…it's actually difficult to explain. At home everything is built around the trees, it makes the forest part of the city. What we build is part of the world, the world that's already there, that's always been there. This is all…" she shrugged. "It's like the people tried to just… raze the ground and start again. Getting rid of the real world, and building their own world in its place."

"Guess I'm used to it," observed Willow, "but I suppose I can see how it'd look that way. Your cities are really that much a part of the forest? I've heard of Amazons living in the trees, but I wasn't sure how much of it was real and how much was fanciful storytelling…you know, like the big-breasted dominatrix stories." That got a chuckle from Tara.

"The fanciful storytellers were right that time," she said, "where I come from, Tran Athulua – that's our capital, on Philios – the trees are enormous and ancient. The whole city is built there. Some of the smaller cities have buildings on the ground, storehouses and so on, and if the younger trees can't take the weight on their own we build arches to support the weight, but that's only the villages nearer the coast, or in places where the forest is young. Tran Athulua doesn't touch the ground."

"About five miles, side to side," said Tara, "that's not counting the outer buildings, they're not always part of the city. The further away from the heart of the forest you get, the more space there is between the strong trees, so some of the bridges are lighter, rope bridges and so on, that get taken down and replaced every few seasons."

"Five miles," mused Willow, "that's…nope, I can't even imagine it. It must be amazing to see…"

"Guess I'm used to it," said Tara, smiling as she repeated Willow's earlier words. "No, it is…it's home, and it's a living place, part of the forest. I d-don't want to sound all 'superior Amazon', but, well…it's special."

"I believe you," said Willow sincerely, before joking: "you'll just have to show it to me sometime."

"I-I'd like that," replied Tara with a shy grin, which she almost immediately hid by ducking her head, letting her hair conceal her face.

"So," Willow said, picking the first thought that came to mind to break the uncomfortable pause, "this whole being part of the natural world idea…is it just the city, or is it a general Amazon thing?"

"It's not a rule or anything," said Tara, tucking her hair back and smiling openly at Willow – she seemed to sense the change of subject had been for her benefit – "it's a…an idea. That everything we need is a part of the world already, if we know how to find it. A-and the best way to create something is to work with nature, not against it…Like our cities: instead of taking away the forest to make room for them, we make them a part of the forest, so the city and the forest become one thing. The cities are strong, because they work with nature, not against it…you can't work against nature, not really. The world's stronger and older than any of us, I mean, even older than our gods, and in the end it'll outlive us all. It's better to be in harmony with what is, rather than ignore it and try to create something that's…what's the word… unnatural. That doesn't sound right…"

"No, I get it," said Willow, "it's like our magic, it's the balance principle. If you try to draw power from outside the world is upsets the balance, and ends up destroying itself."

"That's why the Esu witches chose elemental magic," explained Willow, "fire, ice and lightning, they're all part of the world. They don't upset the balance."

"It depends," admitted Willow, "by the sound of it, Amazon magic seems pretty stable…I mean, it sounds like holy magic, and if the idea of natural balance is that important, it's pretty unlikely it could go seriously wrong. There've been some times when holy mages went bad, but that's almost always been in the big, institutional churches…Demonic magic is just about as unbalanced as you can get, the whole idea is to ignore the rules of the world and get power from outside it. There's druid magic," she went on, ticking off the choices on her finger as she went, "but no-one really knows much about them, they stay in their homelands, and that's a long way away…Ember once told me that they think of themselves as servants of nature, though. Then there's prime magic, which just depends on who's using it, so you might as well ask whether people upset the balance or not…what else? Well, necromancy, but that pretty much speaks for itself…"

"Not really," replied Willow with a casual wave of her hand, "it's just, you know, stuff out of books. I've never done any magic besides ice…well, not successfully, anyway," she said with a sudden darkening of her expression. "Anyway, that's what I'm supposed to be learning. All the different magics, how they're done, where the power comes from, where it goes… not that I'm going to learn to do it, of course, just understand it. Enough so I won't always be getting too curious for my own good," she added with a grin.

"Heh," Willow chuckled, "I'm pretty sure the Council won't have arranged for me to study with a necromancer. They'd probably worry I'd end up raising a few zombies to carry my bags around. Serve 'em right if I did, making me haul all these books around," she grumbled jokingly. They watched in silence as the caravan trundled past a fairly good statue of a wolf protecting its cubs.

"Don't know," said Willow. A thought occurred to her, and she leaned back, rummaging in one of her satchels. "Speaking of hauling books around…here it is." She drew out Ember's notebook and started flipping through the pages.

"My sponsor gave it to me," Willow explained, "it's her notebook from her travels. She wrote down just about everything she ever saw… just in no particular order…but I'm sure I saw a drawing of a wolf statue somewhere…" Tara leaned closer and watched over Willow's shoulder as she closed in on the page she was looking for.

"It's the same one," Willow said, finding the drawing, "look, it's got all the little wolf cubs and everything…yep, she was in Kingsport when she wrote this. Um, statues, statues," she repeated absently, drawing a finger down the lines of handwriting, "oh, here it is, 'town markers'… she says they're from back when Kingsport was a bunch of villages around the old shipyards, each village had an animal of its own, a sort of mascot. Then the docks started expanding, and the villages all sort of merged into the city. It says here that the statues were built by Baron Karl Francis – I have no idea when he was around, but I don't think it's recent – as memorials to the old villages." She let the notebook fall closed.

"We've passed four or five statues," Tara observed, "four or five villages, then…it's like the city at home, some of the oldest buildings are out on the edges, with new bridges connecting them to the others. They must have been separate once."

"Cities in the trees," said Willow with a smile. "I suppose there's no such thing as an Amazon who's afraid of heights?"

"Not everyone lives up there," said Tara, "it's mostly just us warriors, and some of the priests, and the clan elders. A lot of the farmers live on their land most of the year. The city can get a bit empty during harvest," she added, "and it's never as crowded as this place."

"Just in case," Tara said. "If we're attacked, there's enough room for everyone to live in the city. It hasn't happened in years, not in my lifetime, b-but it used to every once in a while."

"Slavers, pirate kings, even swarms of beasts from the Kehjistan mountains that can make the ocean crossing. There's not that many of us," Tara explained, "even with all the able women trained as warriors, w-we couldn't stop an army from landing and moving in. But we've always kept the cities safe…using the trees to move around and behind enemies. The ancient trees, that the city is built on, are too big to cut down, it'd take weeks. And there are warriors who can call on Karcheus, one of our gods, and use their bows to create chill storms on the ground, so you can't set fire to the forest… It's just a matter of wearing down the invaders until they break…" Tara trailed off, and Willow regretted her curiosity – she obviously wasn't comfortable talking about warfare. Who could blame her?

"Oh, not me," said Tara, brightening, "I never really followed Karcheus. Our magic is all about which gods we're drawn to. Mine are Hefaetrus and Zerae, fire and storms. B-but yes, some of us can call on ice magic. I g-guess they'd be better at explaining our magic to you, I-I probably won't be able to tell you anything useful…" Until now Tara had continued to lean towards Willow, even after they had closed Ember's notebook, and Willow was struck with a sudden feeling of loss when she straightened in her seat and glanced out at the passing city.

"Hey, no," she protested, "I'm learning all sorts of things already. Besides, even if you don't use cold magic, you still use the same kind of magic as other Amazons, right?"

"Well, whichever god you're calling on, you do it the same way, right? I mean, if you were calling on Karcheus, you'd do that focus thing you told me about, the same way as you do when you call on…Zerae?" Willow was glad she hadn't forgotten the name – 'that'd be wonderful,' she thought, 'forgetting the girl's favorite gods half a moment after she tells you about them.'

"I bet it doesn't matter then," said Willow with a smile, "you know, Ember wasn't an ice sorceress, she was one hundred per cent fire. Some of the Order's elders only take students who're attuned to their own specialties, but Ember said it didn't matter. She said she wasn't teaching me how to use her magic, but how to use my magic. So I'm sure I'll be able to learn from you," Willow concluded, pleased to see Tara smiling again. "Whatever you want to teach me, that is," she added, "I'm not asking for any big Amazon secrets, just anything you want to show me. If you want?"

"I…I will," said Tara, biting her bottom lip adorably. "First ch-chance we get. We'll need some space, though," she said thoughtfully. Willow's brows rose in confusion.

Around midday Tryptin rode back from the head of the caravan, to let Tara know that they were making good speed, and that he and the caravan captain had decided to press on through lunch to reach the Baron's castle by night. Apologizing to Willow for not taking the time to welcome her sooner, he inquired politely about her journey. After answering his questions Willow asked if a rider had being sent ahead to the castle to herald the caravan's arrival, and on discovering that Tryptin would be going ahead himself, wrote a brief letter to be delivered to the Baron's resident mage.

"He's like that, he gets along with everyone," Tara observed. "His family is part of my clan, his father was an ambassador. I guess it runs in the family."

"Is he in charge?" Willow asked. "I kind of thought there'd be more women on an Amazon mission. Or that you'd turn out to be in charge of it, or something," she grinned.

"How old do I look?" Tara asked wryly. "It's a diplomatic mission, I'm just here to represent the warriors. Y-you know, so the Baron and the Duke recognize we're Amazons. Tryptin is the negotiator, him and the merchant emissaries, but, well…" Tara remembered what she had overheard of Solari and Eponin's discussion.

"The nobles have their own ideas about Amazons, and unless they see a sexy woman in leather they won't buy it?" Willow asked.

"E-exactly," Tara managed. 'Sexy?' she thought. Willow had shrugged and started reading one of her books, and Tara unpacked her ceremonial armor and began cleaning and polishing it, occasionally glancing over at Willow thoughtfully.

She was glad to have met Willow, and dispelled her fears that she'd spend the entire journey being seen, somehow, as a strange, intimidating warrior, and consequently avoided. The young sorceress seemed to bring out the most carefree, high-spirited side of Tara – she couldn't count how many times she'd surprised herself the night before, joking and laughing and being so much more open than the shy, quiet girl she had been even among her friends at home. She had even been looking forward to sharing Willow's experience of learning about magic, but since waking up to find Willow stealing a glance at her, she had been surprised at how frequently her thoughts turned to her, and how little they had to do with magic.

Tara wondered if this was what it felt like to have a best friend, someone she could just be with, talk to for hours, take comfort in each other's presence and friendship. She had been envious, in a benign kind of way, of her fellow trainees in that regard. While there had been many kind, caring girls among them, somehow Tara had never felt that spark of intimacy that led to very close friendship. Everyone seemed to have at least one friend they could confide in, could open up to about anything, could chat with about nothing until well into the night, could share life with. Everyone except Tara, who in spite of being accepted into her trainee pride with open arms, had always ended up spending the long evenings in her room at the clan house practicing her moves, and during free days had somehow always ended up alone on the archery ranges, perfecting her aim and studying the flight of arrows. She wouldn't admit it to anyone – had no-one to admit it to – but she sometimes wondered if there was some sort of guidebook to life that she'd missed out on, so that she had to stumble through her days figuring out things as she went. Solari praised her talents, and it was true she had some sort of natural affinity for creating focus, but in her heart she knew the rest was simply a matter of long hours spent alone, practicing for want of something else to do. She knew she would never be a true warrior, not without the competitive gleam that the other trainees got in their eyes when they managed to disarm their sparring partner, or shoot a thrown target out of the air, but there was something comforting in the martial art itself. The Tara who could whirl her spear around herself until the blade became an impenetrable barrier or flashing metal arcs, or who could close her eyes and still see the target far away, and the curving path through the air her arrow needed to follow to reach it, was not the same person as the Tara who always went home alone, knowing there was something missing from her and wondering if she would ever know what it was.

She finished polishing a greave, held it up in the sunlight to make sure it was perfect, then wrapped it in its cloth and pulled its twin out of her pack, stealing another glance at Willow, whose eyes were darting across the pages of her book at an impressive rate. Tara hoped that she had finally found what she was missing, in this beautiful girl's friendship. For what seemed like the hundredth time since she woke, she reviewed snippets of conversation from the night before, reassuring herself that Willow enjoyed her company, found her interesting, was making an effort to become her friend, not just putting up with her out of politeness. Tara knew she was possibly being slightly insecure, but her doubts nagged at her, making her wonder if she was just a novelty. She remembered how she had gone on and on about home and her people, and winced slightly – she was glad Willow was interested, but wondered whether she had seemed slightly ridiculous, trying to gift-wrap her exotic arboreal city and present it to Willow as a token of friendship. She reassured herself with the memory of Willow's bright eyes fixed on her, and of all the jokes they had fired back and forth, and the inconsequential things they had talked about. Perhaps, she allowed, it wasn't just a matter of her being strange and exotic to Willow, perhaps there was genuine friendship. Tara hoped so with all her will. It felt odd to think of herself as exotic, anyway.

As the sun dipped towards the western horizon the caravan left the city of Kingsport behind, and aside from a few scattered shacks here and there among the trees, was in open country. Willow had found a handful of notes about the nobility of Kingsport in Ember's notebook, and was reading it aloud. Tara lay back contentedly in the wagon, staring up at the sky and imagining patterns in the clouds as she heard how the Barons, though rulers of Kingsport, had for centuries held their court in the old castle in the highlands; how in the current more-or-less peaceful times they styled it the 'summer palace', after the tradition of other Westmarch rulers who maintained an estate outside their cities to retire to during the summer, when the cities themselves became a bit ripe in the heat; how the transition from one Baron to the next was accomplished by a bizarre series of ancient rules of succession, which had ensured stability in the realm, if not necessarily the court, for as long as anyone knew. Tara discovered a new pleasure, staring intently at Willow as she read Ember's more cavalier notes on the nobility themselves, trying to make her laugh. Willow strained herself not to let out so much as a snicker, until she got to the part where Ember described the Baron's court of her time as 'a pack of genial senile delinquents preserved in alcohol', which caused both her and Tara to burst into a fit of giggles.

Just as they were recovering a boy rode back from the main wagon. Tara recognized him as Melcan, Tryptin's aide and apprentice, and introduced him to Willow as he drew up his horse alongside their wagon, with one of the Kingsport soldiers a little way behind him.

"Honored, ma'am," he said, with perfect formality as Tryptin must have taught him. "Master Tryptin suggested you might like to see the river before we take the highland road," he continued to Tara, "he chose this man of the Baron's guards to ride with you if you wish, and I'm to stay here and watch over your belongings."

Tara looked at Willow, who nodded eagerly. Leaving Melcan sitting dutifully beside their wagon's driver, they both jumped lightly off the back and took a pair of horses from the dozen following in the wake of the caravan's wagons.

"You're probably better than me anyway," said Willow, "me and horses…" She rolled her eyes, and turned to her horse. Tara noticed her holding the reins tightly and looking unusually tense as they followed the guard off the road and towards the gentle slope that went on for half a mile or so to the east. She nudged her horse a little closer to Willow's, and gave her a warm smile that seemed to boost her confidence.

The guard waited for them at the top of the rise, and pointed out into the valley beyond as they reached him.

"Merchant Bay," he said as they stared out at the panorama before them. A mile away the river, the Kingsway, that ran from Duncraig to Kingsport, widened into a small bay before continuing its journey to the sea. The entire western side of the bay was a mass of warehouses and gantries, extending even out into the bay itself, so that glimpses of glittering water could be seen between the low roofs and wooden thoroughfares. Beyond them was a fleet of ships, dozens of merchant barges and flat-bottomed riverboats, some riding at anchor, others maneuvering through the throng to reach open water, or to take their place at the docks.

"Ember didn't write anything about this," murmured Willow. Her eyes widened, and she pointed out to Tara where a series of counterweighted cranes shuddered and strained, lifting the entire cargo deck of a barge clear of its vessel. Teams of men, small as ants in the distance, pulled the whole construct, cranes and all, back along shining steel rails, making way for another construct to be wheeled into place, lowering a new deck full of different cargo into the barge.

"Can't say, ma'am," he said simply, "'tis beyond me, that's for sure. They say the Baron hired mages from Duncraig and foreign lands to help build it, though I don't believe there's any there now. I was just a boy when it was built. Our mam says the old river docks got so crowded you couldn't land a cargo of eggs before they'd hatched and died of old age."

"There's got to be magic in it," Willow said to herself, "they must have melded the beams, treated the wood to make it stronger…my gods, look at all the ships!" Tara followed her gaze along the river as it wound between the hills – for as far as she could see there were ships dotted along the river, riding the current or straining their sails against it.

"Aye, the city sees a lot of goods coming and going," the guard observed, "it's from Duncraig, you see. Ships come from all the lands of the world, just about, and they all go along here. They say this river's what keeps Kingsport alive, and, well, I ain't got a head for matters of trade, but I think they may be right." He then fell silent, as Willow and Tara stared out at the great river port.

"We'd best be getting back," he said after a few moments, "it wouldn't do to let the caravan get too far ahead of us."

They returned to Melcan still maintaining his alert vigil over their wagon. He had the driver stop the wagon for a moment so Willow and Tara could get on board easily, then took to his horse and rode back up to the head of the caravan, while the guard disappeared rearwards to return their horses to their place at the caravan's tail end. Willow checked Ember's notebook and confirmed that the Merchant Bay river docks had indeed been built sometime after her sponsor had traveled the region – all she had had to say about the city's river traffic was that its docks were 'small and badly overcrowded', which clearly referred to the predecessors of the complex they had seen.

"M-maybe you should start your own notebook?" Tara suggested. Willow leapt gleefully at the idea, found a blank book from one of her satchels, and spent a few minutes recording her impressions of the giant docks.

"I c-could," Tara offered, "i-if you'd like, that is, I could try…" Willow eagerly handed over the book, and watched over Tara's shoulder as she sketched out a remarkably lifelike drawing of the river docks as they had seen them from the top of the rise.

"That's amazing," Willow breathed, as the picture took shape under Tara's pencil. Tara looked up for a moment, blushing and grinning, then returned her attention to her work. Willow sat back and watched her, smiling without realizing it as she noticed the tip of Tara's tongue poking between her lips now and then as she concentrated, and the way her eyes seemed to sparkle in the afternoon light as she re-read Willow's text, adding notes to her sketch to complement it.

With gray clouds on the horizon and the afternoon turning into dusk they let down the wagon's canvas roof and fastened it over its wooden frame, lighting a lamp to see by inside as they took turns recording their experiences in Kingsport in the notebook. Willow listened rapt as Tara told her about her meeting with Marela while she wrote, and was fascinated by the amulet as she held it for Tara to sketch, turning it this way and that in the golden light of the lamp. It was just when both of them were staring to wonder about dinner that they heard voices outside, and poked their heads out the front of the wagon to see the Baron's castle looming up ahead of them.

It was fully night by the time the caravan rolled over the moat bridge towards the castle gates. The castle, a vast, ominous stone fortress, sat at the center of a rambling collection of wooden shacks and storehouses built beyond its walls – a testament to the relative peace that the realm was enjoying, even as the thick walls and high battlements of the castle itself hinted of past times of warfare. The battlements were now alive with torchlight, as were the towers visible beyond them – Willow pointed out one tower with a dome atop it, split down the center to reveal the lens of a great telescope, which she guessed belonged to the resident mage. The roadway leading up to the bridge was also lit, and a contingent of soldiers rode out as the caravan approached, relieving those who had escorted it from the city. Tryptin was with them, and rode back to Tara after a moment conferring with the merchant emissaries.

"The Baron has begun his dinner early," he explained, "it would be better to settle into quarters quietly tonight, and be presented to court tomorrow when we won't be interrupting. Oh, Miss Willow, a reply came from the mage, he asks that you wait for him in the courtyard at midday in two days' time, he sends his apologies but apparently the constellations have his attention for tonight, and he has an appointment tomorrow."

Willow thanked him, privately dreading another disinterested tutor, but excited nonetheless to see the castle, or the 'summer palace', as the Baron did indeed apparently call it. She was disappointed, however, to find herself separated from the Amazon mission and given private quarters – a mark of respect, of course, but she would have preferred to have Tara's company in place of a room of her own, and she was sorry to have to bid a temporary goodbye to her companion. She asked after the Baron's mage when a notary arrived at her room to welcome her, but it seemed she would have to be content to stay put until the next evening, when she would meet the Baron at dinner and be granted the freedom of the castle, allowing her to wander around and find where the Amazons had ended up. A servant arrived not long afterwards with dinner, and she ate with one hand holding open one of the books she had been given in Kingsport. She consoled herself that she would be seeing Tara again soon enough, and let herself be absorbed by the intricacies of alchemical research as the night grew late.

Tara was no more pleased than Willow at being separated, but managed to distract herself with the company of the various merchants and negotiators from the mission as they ate dinner in the common room connecting their various bedrooms. After dinner Tryptin took her aside and went over the diplomatic protocols she needed to know to meet with the Baron without causing offence, which were few enough – the court of Kingsport was evidently a fairly easy-going place. Tryptin mentioned that, traditionally, women were not expected to take part in discussions with men over dinner unless invited, but then suggested that it might be best if Tara behave as she would at home, speaking her mind if she felt the need to. He assured her that it would impress the various noblemen and remind them that they were dealing with the Amazon nation, rather than merely a group of merchants and businessmen, though Tara got the impression that he quietly relished the opportunity to remind the nobles that not all women spoke only when spoken to.

Tara slept easily in the comfortable bed that had been provided, and woke in time to see the sun come over the battlements beyond her window. She wasn't surprised, though, to find that she already missed having Willow to talk to, and as the morning wore on – a succession of meetings with minor nobles, whom she formally greeted on behalf of the Amazon warriors and then left to the emissaries and Tryptin's negotiators – she was looking forward to the evening's dinner, where she hoped to see her new friend again.

With nothing else to occupy her in the afternoon, she asked one of the passing servants to bring back one of the baths that had been brought to the common room early in the morning, and bathed again, spending a long time washing her hair and carefully drying it. Studying herself intently in the polished mirror in her room, she tied her hair up in a high ponytail, the most typical style for a warrior, and bound it there with a slim bronze clasp. She retrieved her ceremonial armor, which still gleamed from yesterday's cleaning, and laid it out on the bed, making sure everything looked perfect. Of course she wasn't going into battle, so she wouldn't wear a full breastplate, which left her the choice of which tunic to wear with the outfit. She discarded the red – too bright – and carefully donned the other of the two finely-woven tops she had brought, a deep gray that seemed to gleam ever so slightly in the light. She carefully fastened her shoulder harness over it, wiggling her torso and adjusting the straps so that they sat perfect around her shoulders and chest, with her family's crest glinting on the bronze buckle at the corner of the leather padding over her right shoulder. She lifted the shining bronze plate that would go on her left shoulder, then decided to leave it until after she had finished with the rest of the outfit.

With a self-conscious glance out the window – though it was unlikely anyone would be able to see in, unless they were balancing on top of the battlements and were at least fifteen feet tall – she took off the soft trousers she had been wearing and swapped her underwear for the leather equivalent that went with the armor. She caught herself blushing in the mirror, which was a habit she had never quite been able to shake whenever she wore traditional armor – she always wished that there was a skirt, at least, for all that she recognized the unparalleled freedom of movement the arrangement offered. She pulled on the half-skirt, composed of studded leather straps in front and behind, leaving her thighs bare at the sides, and fixed it with a sturdy belt, quickly detaching the various pouches that would help carry her supplies if she were in the field. Doing her best to ignore the nagging feeling that she was half-naked, she pulled on her best boots, pulling tight the straps just above the knees to hold them up.

Next came her bronze greaves, which she gave a quick final polish before strapping them to her shins. She strapped a slim bracer on her right wrist, then pulled a long leather glove over her left arm, strapping it high above the elbow and covering it with a firm leather gauntlet, which in turn had a bronze bracer strapped over it. She finally picked up the bronze shoulder plate and fixed it in place over her left shoulder, making sure it was properly attached to her harness and its weight was sitting comfortably. Lastly she took a slim, well-padded bundle from her bags and unwrapped the circlet that, along with the bronze crest adorning her right shoulder, were all that she really had to remember her parents. She checked the soft leather lining, which was still as good as new, and gently settled the circlet around her brows, closing her eyes as she fixed the clasp at its rear. She picked up her bow and, with a slight effort, strung it with an old, sturdy string that would do for show, though she would have chosen one of the finer ones if she'd intended to actually fire an arrow. She slotted the bow into its place on her back, held by her harness, and at last turned towards the mirror.

A reasonably perfect image of an Amazon warrior stared back at her. With a satisfied nod, trying not to look at her legs too much, Tara turned around, glancing over her shoulder to make sure she looked good from all angles. The straps of her harness had made the tunic a good deal more form-fitting than it had been, particularly around her chest – she giggled at the memory of Willow's summary of the common, lurid image of Amazons as 'big-breasted warrioresses', then composed herself. Content with her preparations she took her spear, silently thanking Solari for allowing her to use it, and left her room to meet the Baron.

Heads turned as the court's page announced the Amazon party, starting with 'Amazon warrioress Tara' and then continuing through the names of Tryptin's diplomats and the merchant emissaries. Tara held her head up high and kept her posture straight as the spear in her hand as she strode towards the Baron's table. Tryptin had told her that the Baron's aides would see to it that he, in turn, knew the proper protocol for receiving an Amazon as a guest, and he had evidently been paying attention, for when Tara bowed stiffly and held out Silverstrike, shaft first with the blade behind her, he stood, lay his open palm on it and bowed slightly in return before sinking back into his seat.

Tryptin, as leader of the mission, also merited the Baron getting to his feet, while the other Amazons each received a nod of acknowledgement as the were introduced one by one and bowed. The party was then led to their seats, not very far from the Baron and his closest noblemen on the long table, and Tara was about to take her seat when she heard the page announce the arrival of 'Sorceress Willow of the Zann Esu'.

She turned to look towards the doors, and in that moment realized that, while she would treasure Willow's friendship for as long as she lived, she also had feelings for the young sorceress that were entirely more passionate.

Tara wondered if Willow was aware of how…well, sexy, she looked. 'Oh come on,' she chided herself, 'how could she not know?'

If Tara's eyes were drawn to Willow's body first, she couldn't really blame herself, and judging by the subtle gasps around her, she wasn't the only one. Willow's shoulders, arms and chest were wrapped in a shimmering green fabric, thin overlapping layers of gauzy cloth, like the bindings of an Aranoch mummy but far more elegant and beautiful. The remarkable fabric itself, matching her eyes, would have turned heads alone, but it was the way that it stopped just low enough to decently cover her chest – in fact, Tara noticed as her heart hammered, the high cut of the material revealed just a hint of the swells of her breasts beneath it. Her body was bare down to the belt circling her hips, an expanse of perfectly smooth skin that made Tara gulp as her eyes followed the delicate curve of her waist and hips. From her belt, which was buckled at the center with an eye-catching white crystal set in silver, more of the diaphanous emerald fabric formed a tight skirt, solidly interwoven at the center then stretching out to either side, becoming slightly transparent as it hugged her hips and thighs the way Tara was suddenly imagining her hands doing. Her eyes darted over Willow for a moment, taking in the slim boots topped with silver bands, and the silver clasps at each wrist holding the ends of her sleeves tight, before settling on her face, framed by a silver diadem and her fiery, silky hair.

The minor nobility standing in groups around the dining hall practically fell over themselves to welcome her, bowing deeply and introducing themselves one by one in their most genteel manner. Willow smiled warmly at each one, inclining her head at their bows like a princess, allowing the daring souls among them to take her hand briefly in greeting. Tara wondered if it was her imagination, but she thought she saw Willow's eyes moving around the crowded hall in between introductions, searching for a familiar face. She realized she was staring. A moment later she realized she was still staring, and should probably do something about it. She resolved to return her attention to her companions at the table, in just a moment…

As Willow cleared the impromptu welcoming committee, Tara finally became aware of something else, a sudden murmur of surprise among the noblemen and Amazons around her. She glanced up the table to see the Baron rising to his feet, gesturing quickly for his nobles to follow suit. In the space of a few seconds the whole table was standing, falling in behind the Baron as he approached the young sorceress. She drew up short as she saw him, and he stopped a few paces from her.

"Our court is honored by your presence," the Baron said in a voice that carried to all who were listening. He held out a hand to her.

"The honor is mine," Tara barely heard her say, as she bowed and took his hand briefly. From where Tara stood, she thought the Baron looked slightly surprised – she recalled it was protocol to kiss the lord's hand, but Willow didn't appear to realize – but he recovered, and evidently took no offence, for he smiled widely as he swept an arm out to indicate the fellow diners crowded around him.

"The court, ma'am," he said graciously, as his wife stepped forward, shooting him an annoyed glance before smiling radiantly at Willow. The rest jostled their way into a line, which Willow slowly made her way along, with the Baron at her side making the introductions. Tara's stomach flipped itself over a few times as the pair worked their way down the line, getting nearer. She glanced quickly up and down the line, realizing that she had ended up as the first of the Amazons the Baron would reach – Tryptin's doing, certainly, subtly reinforcing her status for the other guests to see. He caught Tara's eye and gave her a reassuring wink.

"Our other guests this evening," the Baron intoned, snapping Tara's attention back to him and Willow, "a party of Amazons, no less, here to maintain the good relations between their nation and our city…oh, you would have traveled with them, of course. Well, perhaps you know some of them already." He glanced at Tara, earning another stern look from his wife as his eyes paused a little obviously on her chest before moving on – not that Tara was paying attention.

"Yes, we've met," said Willow with a warmer smile than those she'd made for the nobility. She took a step forward. 'Say something!' Tara's mind screamed at her, as she vaguely heard Willow's greeting.

"H-h-h-he…h-hello," she managed after an awkward pause, wondering which god had decided it would be fun to render her incapable of movement. Willow's smile faltered slightly, and she began to look confused as Tara desperately tried to make her voice work again. But then the Baron was introducing Tryptin, and Willow was drawn away, leaving Tara cursing her shyness and hoping for another chance to speak to her. When the Baron's table resumed their seats Willow was on the same side, but with half a dozen noblemen between them, so that it was difficult for Tara to get a glimpse of her.

Willow did her best to present an affable exterior to her neighbor at the table, but inwardly she was not happy. Her brief meeting with Tara kept replaying itself in her mind, preventing her from maintaining a conversation with the noblemen, a minor landowner who affected a great interest in magic, but clearly didn't know what he was talking about. She hadn't expected to be able to spend very much time with Tara during the meal – being an official occasion, the seating of the guests had been arranged, and she couldn't just have sat where she liked – but she had looked forward to snatching a brief moment here and there in Tara's presence, feeling the warmth of her smile that she had sorely missed since the previous evening. She hadn't been expecting Tara to look almost dismayed to see her – her friend's normally expressive face had frozen the moment Willow had reached her in the line, and she had barely answered when Willow had said hello. Far from being pleased, Tara had looked as if she had seen a ghost.

Willow found her thoughts turning against her, giving free rein to all her doubts. Had she been too obvious? She suddenly regretted her choice of clothing – it was Zann Esu, of course, but Tara wouldn't necessarily know that. What if she thought Willow had deliberately chosen it to, well, to try to arouse her? Willow had to admit that wasn't far from the truth – she had barely considered wearing her ceremonial robes, or the elaborate meditation dress that would probably have been exactly what the nobles would expect a sorceress to wear, she had merely imagined herself appearing to Tara in her emerald outfit, sparking some hint of desire in Tara, experiencing for real the warm tingling she felt when she imagined Tara's eyes on her, wanting her…Willow cursed herself for getting lost in her fantasies, not thinking things through – she hadn't even stopped to consider the possibility that Tara wasn't interested in her that way. That night over dinner, when she had mentioned that most Amazons married men – Willow remembered how Tara had stuttered out her answer, when she asked whether that was always the case. She had thought, hoped, it might have been nervousness, but…'Oh gods,' Willow's thoughts moaned, 'what if she- if it wasn't nerves, what if she's not comfortable with even the idea? Just because her people in general are doesn't mean she is, and now I've gone and flashed my half-naked body in front of her, and she knows, and she doesn't even want to talk to me…' Willow's fists clenched as she fought the straining muscles in her face that wanted her to close her eyes and cry. The noblemen at her side was still chattering aimlessly to her; the other chair, reserved for the Baron's mage, was empty – 'Probably doesn't want to waste his time with me,' Willow thought, knowing she was languishing in her hurt feelings and not caring. Willow turned her attention to the boring man, and was probably more interested in his inaccurate observations about magic than he deserved, just in gratitude for the distraction he offered.

Tara was unusually distant through dinner, offering only curt responses to her neighbors' attempts to start a conversation as her thoughts turned inward. While reaching to the platters in the middle of the table she managed to get fleeting glimpses of Willow, though she never caught her eye. Tara could tell she was upset – there was something about the set of her jaw, and the slight manufactured look to her smile as she chatted with the man beside her, that Tara felt she could read like a book. Tara speared a piece of potato with her fork, unnecessarily viciously, and blamed herself entirely. Willow had probably been looking forward to seeing her, assuming she had been cooped up all day with nothing to do, and the best Tara could offer her was a stuttered 'hello', not even taking her hand, as a friend should – gods, the few people at home she had genuinely disliked, she had offered more courtesy to when she happened to meet them. Tara imagined how she must have seemed to Willow: armored and armed, the image of a warrior, betraying no hint of feeling. She wondered, caught between hope and a dark moodiness, whether she might get a chance to talk to Willow soon, or whether the sorceress would take the hint Tara had unwittingly given, chalk her up as an emotionless warrior, and keep out of her way.

Dinner seemed to pass quickly, and most of the guests had finished their plates by the time the Baron laid down his fork and motioned for them to rise, if they wished. Tara saw Willow get up, and pushed away her own plate, hoping to dodge through the crowd and catch her before she left. But Willow headed directly away from her, not towards the doors, leaving Tara confused – was she leaving, or avoiding her, or what? – and a moment later she found her view blocked by one of the Baron's attendants.

"Ma'am," he said with a bow, "the dancing will commence shortly. Normally women would wait for their partners to choose them, but in your case," he looked uncomfortable, "the Baron would not ask you to submit to such a requirement."

"What?" asked Tara vaguely, trying to look over the man's shoulder to see Willow, among the other diners who had all got to their feet in anticipation of the dance. The sorceress seated herself on one of the long benches at the side of the hall, not far from where the ladies, in a selection of elaborate dresses, were gathering.

"Your diplomat suggested," the attendant continued, "and the Baron has agreed, that you might select your partner? Several of our distinguished nobles have expressed interest, so if you would care to choose your dance partner…?" He gestured to some of the nobles, who were hanging back from the general movement across the hall, where men were bowing and offering their hands to the ladies, the couples taking their place for the dance.

"Yes," said Tara brightly, "present my thanks for the Baron's courtesy, and I will choose a partner." She handed her spear and bow to Melcan, hovering at her side for that purpose, and set off across the hall, heading for Willow.

About half-way the boldness of her sudden idea caught up with her, and she faltered. What if Willow had been too offended by her lack of courtesy earlier? After failing to even greet her properly, as a friend should, did she dare to just walk up to her and ask her to dance? She slowed, noticing as she neared Willow that one or two of the nobles were likewise closing in on her. One, in fact, was turning from her, a disappointed look on his face, and as Tara watched another bowed, spoke to her, and nodded graciously as she gave a brief smile and shook her head. Clearly Willow didn't even want to dance, Tara decided, so she should just turn around and walk away. While she had been debating with herself, though, her feet had been carrying her forwards, and by the time she had resolved not to embarrass herself and upset Willow further, it was too late, and Willow had already noticed her approach.

"Tara?" she said, her expression unreadable – not displeased, not angry, but with too much going on behind her eyes for Tara to guess at her thoughts. She drew to a halt in front of the sitting sorceress, and for want of a better idea, bowed and held out a hand, just as the nobles were doing.

"W-would you c-care to-to…d-dance?" she said, gulping down the nerves that were threatening to make her tongue trip over itself. There was a moment when Willow's expression changed, when she was clearly moving from her unreadable mood to something else, but in that instant Tara couldn't tell what, and she felt pulled in all directions by her emotions, hoping for joy, fearing rejection, worrying about what she might be jeopardizing. Then a grin appeared, spread into a wide, brilliant smile, Willow's eyes sparkled, and she took Tara's hand. Tara felt as though everything was right in the world as she walked into the middle of the hall where the couples were gathering, Willow's arm looped around her elbow and her fingers sneaking between Tara's. A murmur went around the hall as the assembled nobles saw the new couple taking the floor, and Tara glanced at Tryptin, wondering belatedly – though not really caring very much – if she was scandalizing the court. She was reassured to see him suppressing a grin at the astonished looks on the faces of the nobles near him.

The style of the moment in the Baron's court seemed to be a fairly relaxed sort of dance – Willow had read an account from Ember's notebook of the elaborate, ritual-like dances that had been held in her time, but evidently they had fallen out of favor. With a surreptitious glance at the couples around her, Tara took Willow's left hand in her right, slipped her other hand around Willow's waist, and smiled as Willow's other hand negotiated her shoulder armor for a moment before settling just below it. The court musicians struck up a gentle, cheerful melody, and the dance began.

"I was a bit worried when I saw you," Willow murmured, resting her head against Tara's unarmored shoulder, "you looked so…serious, before."

"You look s-so…" Tara tried to find the right word, and could only think of: "beautiful."

"I- thank you," Willow said quietly, straightening a little so she could meet Tara's gaze. "I'm sorry I got upset, it's just…well, you know, a boring day doing nothing but reading and not being able to even talk to you. I guess I got a little nervous too." Her smile turned impish. "But seeing as I ended up dancing with the loveliest warrior in the castle, it was worth it."

"W-well, it's only fair," said Tara, her head spinning from the compliment, "seeing as I'm dancing with the loveliest lady." Willow's smile was worth crossing the Great Ocean for.

"Heh," she chuckled quietly, "I don't think a lady would wear an outfit like this."

"I-I bet they w-wish they could," said Tara, surprising herself both with her boldness, and that her shyness didn't keep her from meeting Willow's look and maintaining her most appealing smile. Willow took advantage of a turn in the dance to slip a little further into Tara's embrace.

"Mmm-hmm," Willow quietly replied, "Zann Esu battlegear." Tara glanced down, and Willow straightened again, seeing her curious expression.

"I'm a sorceress, remember?" she teased. "We don't get up close and personal with monsters much. And if we do, there're spells to protect us. Besides, this," she said gently drawing Tara's right hand down to her stomach, "is where the magic comes from, the center of the body. It helps to keep it…unimpeded."

Tara nodded wordlessly. She could feel her fingers trembling as Willow held her hand against her skin – and was it her imagination, or did Willow keep her hand there a little longer than necessary, and press it gently against herself before letting go? Rather than take Tara's hand again, Willow slipped both arms around her waist, as the music changed to something a little slower, more intimate, and the couples around them drew closer. Tara was suddenly even more aware of how close Willow was to her, and that her hands were now wrapped around her bare waist, against her back, holding her in a way that, dance or no dance, was definitely intimate. Until this evening she would have danced with Willow like this, as a friend, and held her like this with nothing more than platonic affection…but now she knew, for sure, that the heat she was feeling was more than the warmth of friendship, it was desire. And, despite the doubts that were nagging at her, she was starting to think that Willow felt it too.

Willow again rested her head on Tara's shoulder, this time tightening her embrace. Tara barely suppressed a visible shudder as she first felt Willow's breasts brush hers through the layers of fabric between them, then press against her as Willow snuggled into her arms. The music had slowed to a soft, gentle pace, as those dancers who participated for show or fun drifted off to converse with other guests, and the remaining couples held each other close, with only the occasional comment murmured into a partner's ear as they moved. Tara was aware, in a distant sort of way, that a number of the spectators were staring at her and Willow, surprised and perhaps amused at the novelty of seeing two women dance together, but she didn't care. All she cared about was in her arms, moving in time with her, her hands radiating warmth through the material of Tara's tunic.

'Perhaps,' Tara thought, 'perhaps she feels it too…if the skin on her back tingles beneath my hands…if she can't help but feel every slight movement of my body…if she feels as blessed holding me as I do holding her…' For Tara, surprised a day ago to have found friendship, it was almost too much to hope for…but she dared hope.

She leaned her head gently down to where Willow's head rested on her shoulder, brushing her cheek against Willow's hair, and felt such contentment as she had never felt before. At last, she knew she was where she was meant to be, doing what she was meant to do, and all the worries in the world had no power as long as she and Willow danced. She closed her eyes, and the warmth she felt seemed to wrap around her, holding her, cradling her in its arms, lifting her…

There were audible gasps from the crowd of spectators, and the musicians faltered, but in Tara's mind there was music, and she didn't even open her eyes when she realized her feet no longer touched the ground.

"Is it magic?" she whispered to Willow, luxuriating in the absence of anything but the woman in her arms.

It was past midnight when the great hall finally emptied. Willow and Tara found themselves in the south wing of the castle, where the Amazons were quartered, most of whom were still awake and talking in the common room. In the few steps leading up to the door Tara wondered whether it would be too forward to invite Willow in, but Willow's hand on her arm stilled her.

"Y-you're tired," Tara agreed, noticing her companion suppress a yawn, not the first on their walk back from the hall.

"Yeah, I didn't sleep so well," Willow admitted, "you know, unfamiliar bed and all. But I'll see you tomorrow?" She hesitated, and Tara had a sudden urge to insist she stay, sleep at her side, wake in her arms. But on its heels came an understanding: she wasn't skirting the edge of failure with Willow, and she didn't need to rush to make everything perfect like a fairy tale. She nodded, and quickly, while the feeling of contentment lasted, enveloped Willow in a hug that was pure friendship.

"I should go," Willow repeated, with a little smile. "But," she added, her words coming out in a rush, "just so you know I don't want to-"

She leaned forward, tilting her face up just a fraction so that the last words were breathed onto Tara's lips. The kiss that followed was brief, an instant just long enough for both pairs of lips to part a fraction, then Willow was stepping back with a wide, satisfied smile, and hurrying away down the corridor. Tara just stood there, watching her go with bemused amazement, and it was a good few seconds before she could think of anything but how soft Willow's lips had been.

Willow awoke with a start, kicking her legs free of the sheets before she remembered where she was, and the urge to run, to find safety, vanished. She shook her head ruefully and ran a hand through her hair, which had somehow managed to become tangled since she had gone to sleep. 'It can't have been that long,' she grumbled to herself, noting both her lingering tiredness, and the early morning sun just creeping over the battlements beyond her window. 'How does hair do this?' She got out of bed, discarded her flimsy nightgown in favor of a thick, warm robe, and sat in front of the mirror, brushing her hair back to a decent state. And remembering her dream.

It had begun innocently enough, with her wanderings carrying her through the gardens of the Church, with birdsong and the crunching of the gravel beneath her bare feet the only sounds. The sun was bright in the sky, casting golden light across the flowers…then the flowers were all around her, covering the ancient stonework of the cloister, carpeting the ground in a soft bed of color. And the golden sunlight became golden hair, which Willow ran her hands through and buried her face in, laughing with joy as she felt Tara's arms around her. The flowers were like silk beneath them as they lay together, side by side, Willow marveling at the flawless skin beneath her fingers, as she ran her hand down Tara's side, across her waist, down her thigh…Tara pressed up against her, her leg resting over Willow's hip, her toes trailing along the backs of Willow's legs, and Willow reached back and ran her hand all the way along Tara's leg, right down to her toes, then back up again. Tara stretched her arm out above her head, and Willow trailed her touch all the way up her body, over her shoulder, up along her arms to her fingertips. She could feel Tara shivering in delight, could see the anticipation in her sapphire blue eyes…

Then she had rolled over, and the warmth of Tara's body behind her was receding. The color of the flowers was fading, and then the irregular surface wasn't flowers anymore, but stone, debris from the shattered columns and broken walls of the building around her. She felt a gaze on her back, but she didn't want to roll back over, because she knew the eyes weren't Tara's…

"Well damn," she said to herself, brushing viciously, "if I'm going to have nightmares, at least the good part could last longer." She gave a lop-sided grin to the image of herself in the mirror, but couldn't quite shake off the lingering unease the dream had left her with. Sure, she had had nightmares since- when she had been recalled to the Church, but they had faded with time, naturally, leaving Willow with nothing more than an annoying tendency to sleep lightly, which she was inclined to blame as much on traveling as on her mind's night-time meanderings. But they had been just bad dreams, easily swept away by the morning light, and a refreshing splash of water over her face when she washed. This time she still had a nagging feeling that she should be looking over her shoulder.

"Heigh-ho," she said to herself, making light of her unease as she checked her robe was decently tied around her and pulled the bell-cord for a servant. She changed into her traveling clothes as the servant departed towards the kitchens to bring her early breakfast and a bath, packing away her green outfit. That drew her thoughts to the previous night, and she resolved to visit the Amazons' quarters and see if she could spend the morning with Tara, before she would have to meet the mage and see what he could teach her.

As it happened, she met Tara half-way across the garden-courtyard between the south wing of the castle, where the Amazons were, and the keep, where Willow's room was. Willow waved unnecessarily as they neared each other, and felt her spirits soar as she noticed the smile that spread across Tara's face as she saw her.

"Me too!" Willow grinned. "Coming to see you, I mean. 'Cause I saw me already, in the mirror when I woke up, morning hair and all…" She shrugged, feeling suddenly and uncharacteristically shy. Tara, on the other hand, seemed bolder than usual, as she stepped closer and ran her fingers through Willow's hair.

"It's just lulling you into a false sense of security," Willow joked. Tara giggled, which made Willow laugh too. A group of servants hurried through the garden, and Tara took Willow's arm and led her off the path. Willow sat beside Tara on one of the low stone walls surrounding the raised flowerbeds, pleased that Tara's hand dropped down her arm to her hand, but didn't let go.

"I can't stay too long," Tara sad reluctantly, "I'm supposed to go with the Baron and some of his noblemen on a hunt." She gestured at the end of the bow sticking up over her shoulder.

"Well…" Willow hesitated. "I could ride with you, that wouldn't be so bad. Then if I got dizzy or anything I could hold on to you."

"Oh, no," Willow said with mock-seriousness, "I bet I'd have to hold on to you all the time. Can't take chances with horses." Tara grinned.

"Maybe," Willow replied, drawing the word out longer than it needed to be, eliciting another laugh from Tara. 'Hey, look at me,' she thought, 'I'm flirting! Who'd ha' thought it?' "Why, is there some penalty for flirting with an Amazon?"

"Yep," said Tara triumphantly, "now you have to go with me to the Baron's feast in two days. I-if you want to," she added, her teasing smile replaced by a hopeful look.

"I'd love to!" Willow exclaimed, squeezing Tara's hand. "Thank you, I'd love to," she repeated.

"Great," Tara said, smiling shyly at being the cause of Willow's joy. "S-so, do you know what you'll be studying today? It is today, isn't it? The Baron's mage?"

"Midday," confirmed Willow, "yep. I don't know yet, I haven't even seen him so far. Ember wrote a few notes about him on the scroll the Order gave me, but I don't think she ever met him. Just that he's part of the western Vizjerei clan. They're pretty eclectic, according to her notebook, she met a few of them years ago."

"The western clan are just about the only group of mages to really settle out here in Westmarch," Willow explained, "so they've sort of got the whole place to themselves. Not like Kehjistan, there's practically the whole set of clans and orders within a hundred miles. Vizjerei, the new Horadrim, the reformed Zakarum scholars, the Ennead and the Ammuit, the Zann Esu, plus there's necromancers lurking down south somewhere…the whole continent is full of what we call nodes, places where magic is amplified. Everyone sticks to their own discipline and mostly pretends the other clans don't exist…but out here it's just the western clan, so they study whatever they like. Some elemental effects, some prime magic, alchemy, holy magic, Ember says there's even some druidic influences around. There's no-one to really look over their shoulder, so they research whatever looks promising."

"I'll tell you all about it," Willow promised. She noticed movement beyond the archway leading from the garden to the main courtyard. "I think your hunting adventure is getting ready," she said, not without a touch of sadness. Tara glanced behind herself, seeing the Baron's horse being readied, and several noblemen with bows meandering around.

"Well, have fun," Willow said, trying a smile and finding that it came easily when she did it for Tara. Tara squeezed her hand, then let go as she stood up. Willow's hand brushed in the flowers by her side, as she looked up at Tara, who was radiant with the morning sun behind her. "Be careful," she added suddenly, not sure why.

"I will," Tara said seriously, gazing into Willow's eyes. "Is e-everything okay?"

"I'm fine," Willow said, waving a hand dismissively, "I just woke up feeling a bit off-center. It's nothing." She stood, and impulsively leaned forward and kissed Tara on the cheek – nothing extravagant, just a reminder of how a few minutes with her had brightened Willow's whole day. Tara touched her cheek, smiling beautifully.

"I-I'll see you soon," she said, still smiling. Willow nodded and sat back down on the flowerbed wall. Tara took a step backwards, started to turn away, then turned back to Willow and took two quick steps, bringing her directly in front of Willow. Before Willow could think Tara's hands were cupping her cheeks, turning her face gently to meet Tara's as she leaned down. Their lips touched, pressed together, and Willow's eyes fluttered closed as she felt Tara's mouth open and her tongue graze across her lips. Willow couldn't think, couldn't react, couldn't summon the presence of mind to bring her hands up from where they were resting at her sides…in fact, couldn't do anything but open her mouth, feeling as if her whole body had turned to jelly and Tara's hands gently, firmly holding her head were the only thing stopping her from sliding off her perch on the wall and melting into a puddle on the ground. Tara tilted her head sideways, deepening the kiss, her tongue brushing over the tips of Willow's teeth, gingerly exploring her mouth, darting in to touch her tongue. Willow completely forgot where she was and moaned into Tara's mouth, making no attempt to silence herself. With a final swirl Tara's tongue departed, and her lips closed for a moment on Willow's bottom lip, sucking gently, pulling ever so slightly as Tara pulled back, then letting go. Tara stood up straight, and Willow stayed absolutely motionless for a moment before her eyes opened and she took a deep, shuddering breath.

"I'll be back soon," Tara said, with a smile that was quite restrained under the circumstances.

"Yeah…" Willow said again. She didn't move except to watch Tara as she turned and headed towards the main courtyard. 'Oh gods,' she was thinking, 'oh gods…' With considerable effort she composed herself, and managed to make her legs work before she fell off the wall. 'Well,' she thought to herself, 'let's hear it for flirting.'

Tara waited until she was sure she was out of sight from the garden, then leaned back against the courtyard's wall and took a few deep breaths to steady herself. She had no real idea why she'd chosen that moment to kiss Willow, except that it had seemed like the best possible idea in the world. Any doubt, which had been entirely overridden in the moment, about whether she was moving faster than Willow wished was entirely erased by the look of pure delight on the Sorceress's face as she left.

'I did that,' Tara thought dazedly, 'that look was because of me. I kissed her, and then she looked so happy…I make her happy.' That thought, even more than the searing memory of the kiss itself, made Tara shiver with pleasure, and she was glad that none of the nobles had yet noticed her, because she was sure her expression was hiding nothing. She took a deep breath, and noticed a slight warmth between her legs, underneath her leather skirt. 'Oh goddess, I got wet from a kiss!' she thought giddily. She couldn't stop herself from shivering again, then she wondered if she should go back to her quarters and change her underwear. But no, she told herself she was being silly – it was barely a hint, far less than she was sure she'd be sweating once the hunt got underway. Besides, going back to her quarters would mean going back through the garden, where she'd probably find Willow, and then the Baron and his noblemen would have to pry her away with a crowbar.

She took a moment to turn her grin to something less gleeful, then made her way across to the Baron's party with a spring in her step. The Baron himself had arrived, and was busy greeting the nobles. Tara held back a moment, observing them – the Baron seemed to stand far less on ceremony than he had at the dinner, conversing with the others as if they were just friends out for a ride. He noticed Tara, and waved her over.

"Lady Tara," he said – Tara noticed some of the noblemen wince at his loud voice, and guessed they were nursing hangovers – "glad you'll be joining us. Show us some of that famous Amazon skill, eh? Stefan here is our best archer," he added, clapping a hand jovially on the shoulder of a tall, middle-aged man with long gray hair. He bowed to Tara and held out his hand.

"A pleasure," he said as Tara shook his hand, "if you can find the time, I'd appreciate a contest."

"That'll be something to see," the Baron interjected. He drifted off to welcome some more colleagues who were just arriving. Stefan stayed at Tara's side, showing polite interest as she selected a length of fire spinner silk and bent the bow back to string it. They exchanged bows for a moment, Stefan marveling at the craftsmanship of the Amazon weapon, Tara running a practiced eye over his bow, and noting that it was a strong design, perhaps lacking a little finesse, but certainly more refined than it looked on first sight. He thanked Tara and wandered off towards the Baron as a groom brought Tara a horse from the stables, which he said was called Kestrel. The horse dipped her head to let Tara stroke her long face, and Tara talked quietly in the horse's ear for a moment, letting her hear the sound of her voice. She was a friendly creature, and Tara found she was looking forward to a day's riding as she and the Baron's party mounted their steeds and headed through the main gate, with a pair of guards bringing up the rear.

Ahead of Tara the Baron's horse jumped a low ditch easily. Tara felt Kestrel's muscles bunching with power, then for a moment they were flying, before the horse's hooves touched the ground on the other side and she continued her gallop in the Baron's wake. Tara couldn't restrain a whoop of joy as they took the next jump – she had never before ridden so fast, with the wind in her face and her hair streaming out behind her. Riding at home, when it had been necessary, had always been fairly sedate: journeys to the outer villages too long to make on foot, but on the twisting paths through the forest it wasn't easy to guide a horse too fast. Now she put her weight on the stirrups and rose up just a fraction out of the saddle, one hand loosely holding the reins, the other steadying her balance on the horse's neck, and she smiled widely as she felt the air fly around her. 'Of course,' she admitted to herself, 'it's not just the riding.'

The Baron reined in his steed as the party finished crossing the castle's fields and reached the edge of a dense wood. Tara reluctantly swung herself off Kestrel's back, handing the reins to the groom who would watch the horses as they went deeper into the trees on foot. The Baron wasn't what Tara would call a precise hunter – he obviously knew a fair bit about the wood, which he had no doubt hunted in all his life, but he made no effort to hide his presence from the wildlife, crashing through the undergrowth and calling out to his nobles at the top of his voice. Most glimpses they had were of animals already beating a hasty retreat, but the Baron was enjoying himself. They meandered around, occasionally pausing when someone saw a beast that hadn't already made itself scarce, but they were usually so far away that when the hunter who spotted it fired his arrow, it landed short, or flew well wide of the mark. The Baron himself, in one of his rare quiet moments, had the fortune to spot a deer not far off, but he identified it as a female and moved on. Stefan told Tara that the Baron, unlike some of his predecessors, wouldn't hunt females or young, and also unlike most nobles had actually taken the time to learn to tell them apart by sight.

They paused in a clearing for lunch, emptying the bags carried by the servants trailing behind the hunting party of bread rolls and leftover meats from the previous evening's dinner. Some of the nobles were quite surprised to learn that Tara didn't eat meat, but the Baron merely shrugged jovially and handed her some cheese to go with the bread. No-one talked to her very much as they ate, but Tara didn't mind – they weren't being impolite, she decided, they just seemed a little wary of her. Besides, the bread was excellent, with juicy berries baked into it, and Tara's mind was on other things. Afterwards, though, Stefan engaged her in a discussion on the relative merits of short and longbows, which drew in the Baron and a few others, and their general nervousness about interacting with an Amazon seemed to drain away – at least, Tara observed, they no longer acted as if she was liable to explode or declare an oath of vengeance for no reason.

After a short while the Baron decided they should resume the hunt, and now he and his companions moved more stealthily. Tara was inclined to revise her opinion of him – he obviously knew how to blend in to the forest, to mask his noise and presence, he just didn't make it a priority at all times, as if he enjoyed the experience of the hunt more than just the successful pursuit of game. Without the ruckus they had earlier been making, the party soon spied a lone stag not far away, and the Baron waved Tara up to where he stood, half-hidden by a tree.

"Would you care for a chance?" he asked quietly. Tara wasn't in any hurry to kill the animal – Amazons never hunted to the kill for sport, only for food – but that thought prompted an idea in her mind, and she nodded and drew her bow. Without making a sound she drew an arrow from her quiver – one of the castle armory’s, for she had decided against using her own Amazon-made arrows. She drew back the bowstring and gazed along the length of the shaft, fixing her eyes on the animal beyond.

"I have it," she said after a moment's stillness, and slowly let the tension out of the bow.

"Amazons don't kill unless it's for food," Tara explained, "or defense. When we hunt for sport or practice, we only do it until we have a clear shot." She made her face a mask of professionalism, but the Baron seemed more curious than upset.

"Forgive my asking," he said, "but how do you know you'd have made the shot? No disrespect to your skills, of course."

"None taken," said Tara graciously. She glanced at the ground, and bent down to scoop up a small stone. She took the ribbon that had been tied around the necks of her arrows and looped it securely around the stone, knotting it tightly and handing it to the Baron.

"If you would, Baron, swing that as far as you can," she asked. He shrugged and took a few steps back, making sure he had room to swing the makeshift projectile without hitting anyone. Tara examined her stock of arrows for a moment before selecting one. Its weight was very close to those she was familiar with, and the flex in its shaft was very close to perfect. "Your craftsmen make good arrows, Baron," she observed, nocking it and drawing her bow, keeping it pointed at the ground.

"We know the value of good archery," the Baron answered. He then swung the stone around his head twice before releasing it off to one side of Tara. She was already screening out the distractions, the breathing of the Baron and the nobles, the shapes of the trees, the small sounds of animals moving, and leaves rustling in the breeze. She turned and fired in one smooth motion, almost able to see the flight of the receding stone, and the curve of her arrow as she launched it. The trailing ribbon jerked in the air, dragged off its course, and a cheer went up from the noblemen.

"No offence, Stefan," said another of the men to the old archer, "but my money's going to be on her bow."

"I fear I'll be outmatched," Stefan admitted, "but I'd still like that contest, if you're willing."

"Of course," Tara smiled, glad that her stunt had gone so well – she had gambled that her skill combined with the novelty of Amazon ways would prove more entertaining to the Baron and his men than bringing down the stag would have. Even as she smiled, though, her mind was still drifting through the frame of thought she entered whenever she practiced, seeing the world as shapes and speeds, translating all sight and sound into a field of objects at rest and in motion. She didn't even think as she leant back, her hand flashing out beside her, closing around something, and turning as its momentum spun her for a moment.

The Baron and his nobles were struck silent, as was Tara, as she slowly uncoiled her fingers from around the crossbow bolt she held. She blinked at it, uncomprehending – she hadn't even been aware of danger, she had acted entirely by instinct. Her mind snapped back to reality, and she dropped the bolt, which in turn seemed to snap her companions out of their own shock.

"Guards!" roared the Baron, drawing his sword, "over there! Go!" He stepped around Tara, standing between her and the unseen attacker as the two guards, and several noblemen, crashed through the undergrowth. Tara peered over the Baron's shoulder, seeing a man in dark green clothes scramble up from the ground, start to run, trip over something, and regain his feet too late as the guards reached him. Then the Baron was turning back to her.

"Lady Tara," he said sincerely, "I…am deeply shocked…you are a guest at my castle, my home, and…had you not been able to-" he broke off, then resumed: "I will find out what is behind this, I promise you!"

Tara nodded dumbly, unable to speak. She clenched her hands, trying to stop them shaking, as the Baron turned again to stare towards where his guards were none too gently hauling their captive back towards them. There was shouting from off to the west, where the sun was starting to slant through the tree branches, and more guards, leading horses, appeared. Their captain spotted the Baron and passed the reins of his horse to another guard, sprinting to his lord as quickly as he could.

"Baron," he panted, "you must come back to the castle…you must-" he paused to gulp a breath of air.

"Your mage, sire," the captain said, "he attacked someone- he'd been doing black magic, sire!"

The Baron stared at the captain for a moment, dumbfounded, then strode past him and commandeered one of the horses the guards had brought. Tara sprinted after him, none of the men protesting as she took a horse and urged it on, following the Baron as fast as she could through the woods, all thoughts of her own close escape replaced by a cold fear for what she might find back at the castle.

Tryptin and several of the Amazon merchants were waiting in the castle courtyard as the Baron rode in, with Tara on his heels. Tara reined in and jumped to the ground, leaving it to the grooms to take her horse to the stables as she sprinted across to the Amazons. The Baron was already dismounting, his chief advisor at his side, talking quickly.

"Where's Willow?" Tara asked before Tryptin could say anything. He seemed surprised at her question.

"She was in our common room a few minutes ago," he said, "she came asking whether you had returned not long ago, and I said she could wait there, if she liked."

"The Baron's guard said that his mage had attacked someone," Tara explained quickly, "she was going to spend the afternoon with him, I thought-"

"She's fine," Tryptin reassured her, "she didn't seem upset, she certainly wasn't hurt." Tara took a deep breath to steady herself, feeling some of the tension drain out of her.

"I'll speak with the Baron," Tryptin went on, "find out what's going on. Did his guard say anything else?"

"Only that the mage attacked someone, and something about black magic," Tara said. A second group of riders came through the gate, noblemen and guards, one with a bound prisoner held on the saddle in front of him. Tryptin glanced at them, then turned his attention back at Tara.

"H-he shot at us," Tara said, "at me." It felt odd to think it had happened barely a quarter of an hour ago – Tara's sudden fear for Willow had pushed the attack out of her mind, and throughout the ride back to the castle she had thought of nothing else.

"No, I-I'm fine," Tara said. Tryptin stared at her for a moment, then glanced around the courtyard.

"Why don't you go back to our quarters," he said, "Willow's probably still there. I'll speak with the Baron, and we'll…get this sorted out." Tara nodded, suddenly grateful for the chance to get away from all the people bustling around her. She noticed Tryptin's grim expression, though.

"Um, the Baron," she said, just as he was about to turn away, "h-he was…after the first shot, he shielded me. I-in case there was another. I…could you thank him?"

"I will," Tryptin said shortly, but Tara could see he appreciated what the Baron had done. He motioned to one of the merchants, a solidly-built man who Tara knew could handle his sword as well as a soldier. The he hurried towards the Baron, and Tara made her way through the gardens to the south wing. The merchant stayed with her, a few steps behind, and waited outside when they reached the common room.

Willow was sitting on a bench on the other side of the room, staring idly out of the window. She turned when she heard the door, and her face lit up when she saw Tara. Seeing her here, unhurt, seemingly carefree, Tara suddenly felt like crying as the tense knot in her stomach unwound itself. Willow saw her expression, and leapt up to meet her halfway as she crossed the room. Tara enveloped her in a tight hug, burying her face in Willow's hair, taking a deep breath of her scent and letting it out in a joyful sob.

"Wh-what's wrong?" Willow asked, wrapping her arms around Tara and stroking her back.

"Nothing," Tara cried softly, "nothing's wrong…I-I was worried, that's all…" She took a calming breath and released Willow just enough to look into her eyes. She saw the sudden concern and anxiety there, and smiled to reassure her.

"I'm alright, Willow," Tara said soothingly. "I was…well, while we were hunting someone shot at us…but I'm fine, I'm perfectly okay!" she insisted, as Willow's eyes widened in shock.

"Shot at you?" Willow squeaked. Her eyes darted over Tara's body, inspecting her as best she could, given that she seemed entirely reluctant to move any further away from her. Tara left one hand around Willow's waist, and used the other to cup her cheek and draw her eyes back up.

"You're shot at, and you worry about me?" Willow asked. "Tara, what's going on?" Keeping an arm around Tara's waist, Willow maneuvered her over to one of the padded lounges in the corners of the room and sat her down. She caught the end of one of her trailing sleeves and used it to gently wipe away Tara's tears. Tara gazed at her adoringly for a few seconds before she remembered it was her turn to talk.

"Nope. I waited for an hour, but he didn't show up, and none of the servants were any help- why, has something happened to him?"

"I don't know," admitted Tara. "The guard who brought us in from the hunt said that he'd attacked someone, and he'd been doing black magic."

"You're kidding!" exclaimed Willow. "No, of course you're not…gods…he attacked someone…and you thought I was…?"

"I'm fine," Willow said firmly, "I never even saw him. Black magic…who said that? The guard?" Tara nodded.

"I don't think he saw anything," she ventured, "I think he was just told what to tell the Baron, and bring him back to the castle."

"Probably," Willow mused. Without quite realizing it she had let her sleeve fall, and ended up resting her palm against the side of Tara's face, stroking her cheek with her thumb. "'Black magic' is really just a layman's term," Willow said, "magic is what it does, not good or evil on its own…I wonder what he did?"

"Good," Willow said firmly. Tara recognized the fierce protectiveness in her eyes, and felt warmed by it. She took advantage of Willow shifting her position on the chair to move closer to her, draping her arm over her waist. Willow grinned and curled up to Tara's side, still stroking her cheek tenderly.

"Um, not quite," Tara admitted, "I caught the crossbow bolt." Willow's eyes widened again.

"Um, it's something we're trained for," Tara explained. "Being aware enough of everything around you that you can sense an arrow in flight."

"How do you train for something like that?" Willow asked. "I mean, unless you get it right first time?"

"Oh, no," said Tara, "the instructors aim beside us, a-and they start off with special arrows, with blunt tips, and they fly slowly. Once you learn how to grab one out of the air, they use faster arrows, and blindfolds, that sort of thing. We never actually get arrows fired at us."

"Hey," Willow insisted gently, "I'm a scholar, if I say you're amazing, that means you're amazing. No arguments," she finished with a grin.

"If you say so," Tara teased back, giving Willow's waist a squeeze that made her wriggle delightfully.

"Oh, so that's the way you want it," Willow said with a fiery glint in her eyes. Her fingers darted to Tara's exposed side, tickling her through her tunic just under the edge of her leather bodice. Tara squirmed and laughed, trying to catch Willow's nimble hand. When that eluded her, she lifted herself off the lounge just enough to free her other arm, which snuck under Willow's body and ran up and down her side, sending her into spasms of laughter.

"This isn't…really…fair," she protested, between giggles. She deftly twisted her wrist out of Tara's hand, which had finally caught her, and resumed her attack.

"Why's that?" demanded Tara, arching her back to try to keep her side away from Willow's fingers.

"Well," Willow said, leaning against the back of the lounge to trap Tara's hand, as her own was caught again, "you've got all this armor." She slipped her hand out of Tara's again, but instead of tickling her, Willow tapped the side of her leather top, which was quite thick enough to deaden the sensation. "See? I've only got this little tiny bit of Tara to work with…" She trailed off as their sudden stillness brought her attention to how close she was to Tara, barely an inch between her and Tara, their arms around each other, their thighs touching and ankles casually resting together off the edge of the lounge. Willow tried to finish her thought, and not be distracted by Tara's chest, which was moving very distractingly with her heavy breathing.

"Only this bit of you," she repeated, relaxing her hand against Tara's side, "and you've got," she gulped quickly, "all of me."

She saw Tara's eyes drop for a moment to the laces at the side of her bodice, then they were staring into each other's gaze again.

"You're right," Tara breathed, "it wouldn't do for people to say Amazons are unfair." Her lips curled into a playful, sensual smile that made Willow's breath catch in her throat. Tara's free hand drifted back from Willow's side, towards the laces. Willow was caught between the tiny, sensible voice inside her reminding her that they were in a common room where anyone could just walk in, and the rest of her thoughts which insisted that if she stopped Tara they would never forgive her. The way Tara unconsciously licked her lips as she looked down again silenced Willow's rationality, but just then they heard someone come in behind them.

"Tryptin!" Tara said, bolting to her feet. Willow scrambled up beside her, standing straight like a soldier at attention, her face flushing red at being caught- 'Well, not actually in the act,' she conceded, 'probably not really in a situation of the act being immanent, but at least with the possibility of an act, of some kind, being present in the near-future…' She realized Tryptin was talking, and told her nervous thoughts to shut up.

"The Baron has responded to this incident admirably," he was saying, mainly to Tara but with an occasional glance at Willow as well. "The man who attacked you today is being interrogated at the moment. I explained our requirements in this situation, and the Baron has agreed that his trial will be held before we leave."

"As to the other matter, it's unclear at this stage whether it's related, but it is of some concern. The Baron's mage, a man named Hydris of the Vizjerei clan, is in custody, under close guard. It seems a castle maid was delivering lunch, and smelt smoke when she came in to leave his plate in the antechamber of his rooms. She went into his study, and found the mage conducting some sort of ritual, which frightened her. The mage drew a knife and attacked, she ran, he chased – luckily a pair of guards were in the corridor nearby, and they disarmed him before he could reach her. She took a cut, which I'm told is minor, one of the guards was wounded in the leg, but is expected to recover." He sighed, and glanced around the common room as a pair of Amazon merchants entered, talking quietly and seriously.

"If this has anything to do with your attacker," he went on to Tara, "or our presence in general, we must know. It could affect our entire mission. The Baron hasn't yet scheduled a trial for his mage, but he has agreed that we will be permitted to attend. I'll be speaking with him again later, to try to get our negotiations back on track. Oh, Miss Willow, the Baron asked after you, he would like to see you at your convenience before dinner tonight."

"A bad day," Tryptin said, to no-one in particular, "but no-one permanently harmed, thank the gods, and perhaps we'll pull something good from this after all. A person's true face is most often revealed in times of stress – I find I like the Baron. His conduct during this has been noble…He received your thanks, by the way," he said to Tara, "he was quite anxious that you did not think poorly of him for not protecting you further, as a guest of his."

"Yes he is," Tryptin agreed. "I have business to attend to – this trouble has delayed several meetings already. Melcan will be on hand if you need anything. You too, Miss Willow."

"Thank you," Willow and Tara said together. Tryptin nodded and left, taking the two merchants with him. Willow felt unaccountably relieved to be alone with Tara again, and the pair found themselves sharing a conspiratorial smile.

"Wh-why do you think the Baron wants to talk to you?" Tara asked. Willow shrugged.

"I'm just guessing," she said, "probably to help figure out what his mage was doing. So far as I know there's only ever been one mage at the court here, so I suppose no-one else really knows how magic works…He might want me to go through the mage's rooms, study the ritual he was performing. Probably not what the Order had in mind when they asked him to instruct me," she added ruefully.

"Oh…sure," Willow said. She sat down again, with Tara beside her. Glancing at her, Willow realized Tara could see her nervousness.

"I'll do it, it's important to know what he was doing, I just- I hope it wasn't a summoning," she explained glumly, gazing at the floor. "After what happened…the accident I told you about…demons scare me. I mean, obviously, they're demons and that's the whole point, but…I saw one," she admitted, "in Entsteig…a pure demon. I…If the mage had been trying to summon something, just the thought of being in his rooms-" she inhaled sharply and shook her head, trying to regain her composure. Tara gently pulled her into a hug, letting Willow's head rest on her shoulder as she stroked her hair. Willow let herself be held, her arms loose around Tara's waist, her breathing steadying as Tara soothed her. She placed a soft kiss on Tara's shoulder, and closed her eyes in contentment.

"I'll go with you," Tara said after a moment, her hands keeping up the gentle rhythm through Willow's hair and on her back.

"You don't have to," Willow said, even as she gratefully tightened her arms around Tara.

"I w-want to," Tara said, quietly but with an air of defiance. "Not so much to see what was going on, but…if you go, then I'll go."

"A-actually, it's probably best for everyone," Tara went on, "if what the mage was doing had anything to do with Amazons being here, one of us should be witness to it."

"We could probably get a guard or two," Willow suggested. "Just to stand by while we're in there." Tara leaned down, her mouth close to Willow's ear.

"I only need you," she whispered. Her breath was hot against Willow's skin, and the tenderness in her words made Willow feel something she couldn't quite describe – protected, cared for…something else.

"Mmm-hmm," Tara confirmed, "I nearly overtook the Baron riding back." Willow hugged her a little closer.

"Not that I want you to worry," she insisted, "'cause, naturally, not being worried beats worrying hands down, just…thank you. You know what I mean?"

"I know," Tara said. "It was worth it…to find you here, and safe." Willow kissed her shoulder again.

"I wish I'd seen you riding back," she said quietly. "After we met in the garden this morning, when you, you know…kissed me senseless," she grinned, "I went up onto the battlements so I could watch you ride out. I was way over to the side, and let me tell you those walls are pretty high when you're up on top of them looking down. I saw you, though. First a couple of the other riders, then you. You were leaning forward, a-and your hair was streaming out behind you in the wind…Maybe there's something to this whole horse-riding business after all," she ventured with a grin.

"When we get time I'll teach you," Tara promised. "Not that I'm an expert or anything, but I've been trained a little. We'll find you a nice, kind horse, and we'll ride together, and you can hold on to me as long as you like."

'Ah, that's it,' Willow thought, suddenly understanding the warmth that was radiating through her. Protected, cared for…she felt loved.

The Baron looked a good deal more formal than he had earlier in the day, and watching the way he shuffled the papers on his desk and breathed in with deliberate calm, as if composing himself, Tara guessed he was using the comfort of procedure to cover up some nervousness on his part. She and Willow entered the room when he looked up and beckoned them in, stopping a few paces from his desk and bowing.

The Baron's study was a large, airy room, obviously designed to impress visitors but with an unmistakable lived-in feel to it. The wall on one side was covered in shelves, cluttered with old leather-bound books, folded parchments and stacks of scrolls. From the slightly disordered look of it, this was not a library the Baron kept for form's sake, but rather one he used, and used often. There were cloth tags hanging out of some of the volumes, marking pages in them, and the occupants of several holes in the shelves were currently open on the Baron's desk, laid on top of one another. The other side of the room was taken up by a smaller desk, where the Baron's chief advisor sat, and a smaller set of shelves that had a more businesslike sense of organization to them. The advisor gave Willow and Tara a polite nod, then returned to his writing.

The Baron stood from behind his ancient, ornate desk and acknowledged their bows before returning to his seat. Behind him the far wall of the room was broken by tall windows, looking out to the west. The sun was beginning to set, but a series of candelabras spaced about the room were already lit, and provided ample light. The Baron seemed uncomfortable for a moment, glancing at his advisor before speaking.

"Miss Willow," he began, "and Lady Tara. I'm glad you're both here. This unfortunate matter of the mage involves the Amazons as well, it seems. Your diplomat has been very generous today, but I cannot deny the debt I have towards you. As your host, it is my duty to see to the well-being of all guests under my roof. Today I came close to failing in that duty; the least I can do is see that justice is done in your presence."

"Baron," Tara said when he paused, "you shielded me yourself today. No Amazon would ask for more." She wanted to reassure him further, to remind him of his bravery, but she sensed that he would take her words to heart more if they were given as one warrior to another, simple and understated. The Baron nodded, seemingly grateful.

"I am pleased to hear that," he said. "If only it weren't one of my own court who had put you in danger…" He noted Willow and Tara's confused expressions.

"I should explain," he went on. "Your diplomat has told you of the trouble that occurred today while we were on the hunt, involving my mage?" Tara nodded.

"It seems that it was no coincidence that you were attacked at the same time," the Baron continued. "My master-at-arms has interrogated your assailant, in my presence, and I am sadly sure that the men told us the truth. His name is Josef, he is known as a thief and brigand. There are some, in the far woods and the more inaccessible regions of the highlands. They come to the towns now and then, mingling easily enough with the locals – usually they indulge in a little thievery until they earn the attention of the constables, then they retreat to the remote areas and waylay careless travelers until it becomes safe for them to show their faces in civilized places again. This Josef was in Piotrsberg, a town not far from here, when he was approached yesterday by a man who offered him a job. He was given money, and promised more, in exchange for waiting in the woods today, stalking our party…and killing you," he finished, looking directly at Tara. She linked her hands behind her back, worried that they might start shaking, and did her best to maintain a warrior-like composure.

"Why?" Willow exclaimed, before realizing she had spoken out of turn and adopting a contrite expression. The Baron shrugged, taking the question in stride.

"That we do not know; he was not told. But I'm afraid there can be no doubt. He knew I would be leading the hunt, and which of my comrades would be with me. Our appearances and our hunting garb were described to him. Your appearance was described also – a 'blond-haired foreigner woman in leather armor carrying a bow' were the words he heard. That leaves little room for doubt."

"A-and from the level of detail in the instructions, y-you suspect someone in the castle?" Tara asked, concentrating on what she could deduce from the information as a way of forestalling her emotional reaction to it. Being shot at was one thing – hardly a desirable situation, but something every trainee warrior had considered at some stage – but being the target of a planned assassination was something Tara had never even dreamed of. She felt Willow's eyes on her, comforting her, and she was pleased they were here together. Even if they couldn't do more than stand side by side – she wanted to feel Willow's hand in hers, but it wouldn't be appropriate, in front of the Baron in an official capacity.

"If that were all," the Baron answered her, "then yes, I would suspect someone within the castle. But I'm afraid we know who this Josef took his orders from. My master-at-arms is a suspicious man, but he has a good instinct for this sort of sorry business. He showed Josef drawings of several members of the court, and thus we identified the mage, Hydris, as the one who did this."

Tara glanced at Willow. She herself wasn't as surprised as she might be – the suspicion had been forming in her mind even as the Baron had told her. But she could see Willow was shaken by the news. She relaxed her stance, letting her arms fall to her sides, and for a moment allowed her hand to brush against Willow's. They locked eyes for an instant, and Tara forced a reassuring smile to her face.

"Why he did this," the Baron started, and paused. "We don't know. He has refused to answer any questions. I assure you the moment I heard of what he had done, I stripped him of his position in the court, but he is still from a powerful family, and until a trial can be held, there is little we can do to compel him to reveal what he knows. I have spoken to him myself, and I…I think he may not be of sound mind." The Baron and his advisor shared a glum look, then he returned his attention to Willow and Tara.

"At any rate, I can tell you what we know. Hydris was conducting some kind of ritual, and when found he attacked the maid who saw him. He fought two guards in an attempt to pursue her, and injured one of them before he was disarmed and rendered unconscious. My advisor, who acts as regent during my absence, had him locked in a cell, once he had been searched and relieved of any objects that might contain some power he could draw on. His rooms have been sealed and placed under guard, but no-one has entered them. The maid, Kristanna, was…well, hysterical. She has calmed down, but she can give no clear account of what she saw. Perhaps the shock has affected her memory, but then again… she's just a domestic servant, from a family in Karlsband, it's entirely likely she simply has no understanding of what she saw, and so cannot describe it. I myself might have been likewise struck dumb – I have no mind for magic, I'm afraid I have always relied on Hydris to interpret anything of that nature. He never gave any indication that he was less than trustworthy…I find myself grateful that he seldom offered advice on affairs of state. Many lords, you know, rely on their mages as general advisors – it's an old tradition, the lord using the wisdom of his mage. It is just as well Hydris always remained remote from worldly concerns, or I fear I would have taken his advice without question, and who knows where that may have ended?" He sighed, then shook his head, dismissing his musings as he returned his attention to the women in front of him.

"Miss Willow, I must ask for your help," he said. "Many who've visited here have told of the Zann Esu's powers and wisdom, and the letter of introduction announcing your arrival spoke highly of you as a scholar. I would ask you if you would examine the mage's rooms, and determine what you can of his activities and possible motives. But first I must ask if you think there may be any danger to you in doing so?" Willow seemed a little surprised at the Baron's praise, but gathered herself quickly.

"Um, no sir," she said, "no, I don't expect his ritual would pose a danger, this long after he was interrupted. I'll take precautions, of course."

"Of course," the Baron agreed. "I'll have my master-at-arms make the rooms available to you, tomorrow if that is agreeable to you?" Willow nodded. "If you require the use of any of our guards, you have only to ask."

"Thank you sir," Willow said, "but I shouldn't think so. Um, Tara has offered to accompany me, if you suggested this…she'll be all the protection I need."

"I don't doubt it," said the Baron, glancing down at his papers and missing Tara's surprised glance at Willow. "Oh, one other matter," he went on, looking up again, "the feast is in two days. Naturally I considered whether it should be postponed, but with the mage in custody and my guards prepared for any further trouble, I have decided to go ahead with it. Hopefully it will go some way towards putting this sorry state of affairs from our minds, if only for a few hours…you are both invited to my table, if you would care to attend."

"N-not that I mind the flattery," Tara said, "but perhaps we should have a couple of guards with us tomorrow. In case there is anything dangerous, I mean…B-because sure, I've been trained, and my instructors were good, but the castle guards probably have a lot more experience, if you need to be protected, a-and I'll do my best but I'm no Valkyrie."

They were eating dinner in Willow's room, Tara having sent a servant to the Amazon quarters to let Tryptin know she would be back later. It was really two rooms, a small antechamber and a bedroom, but the outer room had been furnished for a single occupant – one chair, a desk, and shelves which Willow had filled with her satchels. One of them was open, and its books were stacked neatly beside it, but Willow had evidently not thought it worth unpacking the entire set onto the shelves, only to have to pack them up again a few days later. They ate in the bedroom, sitting on the large bed with plates balanced on their knees. On entering Tara had noticed the belt Willow had worn the night before, with its brilliant white-jeweled buckle, hooked over the end of the bed, and smiled at the memory.

"We won't need them," Willow said, "I don't think it'll be dangerous – at least, not that sort of dangerous. We'll have to be careful, that's all, in case there are any traps of curses set up to protect his rooms. I'll be able to draw out anything magical, and anything that looks suspiciously device-y we can set aside for later. I didn't mean you'd protect me like that, just…I'll feel safer with you there." She paused, and played with her food idly for a moment. "I don't want to go in there afraid," she admitted quietly. She looked up, right into Tara's gaze. "With you there, I won't be."

Tara smiled warmly, comforted to see Willow's resolve. She could see how much Willow was bothered by the idea of what the mage might have been doing, and she frankly admired her courage in facing it. She had never before been in a situation where someone relied on her for anything important, and though part of her was unnerved by the idea, and the fear that she might fail Willow in some way, she found she was oddly calmed by it at the same time. The thought that Willow could be strengthened just by her presence made her want to stay by her side always, and never leave her.

She thought about this for a moment, as she and Willow ate in companionable silence. They would be at the Baron's castle for a few more days, then the caravan would be moving on, to Duncraig via a handful of settlements along the highland road, which veered westward for a while before straightening out and heading north, to rejoin the river as it neared the capital. Tara wasn't sure exactly how long the journey would take, but she thought two weeks sounded about right. She would be at court for some time there, meeting the Duke and his lords, and there were certainly many mages in Duncraig Willow would study with. But then what? Willow would continue to travel through Westmarch before returning to her Order, while Tara and the Amazons would join a caravan heading back to Kingsport, and then sail home. Tara was slightly surprised to find that she was considering staying with Willow, traveling with her. Of course she wanted to stay with Willow, but…Tran Athulua was her home, the only one she had ever known. At the same time as she imagined traveling at Willow's side, sleeping beside her every night at inns and in caravans, discovering the world with her, Tara wondered whether, if she followed that path, she would ever see her home again.

She smiled at herself, reminding herself that those decisions were a long way off, and there would be plenty of time to think, and to find out what Willow wanted – not that she had any reason to think Willow would not want her. Ending up together on a caravan could happen to anyone, but if she made the choice to travel with Willow, well, that was a bold step. Tara didn't consider herself a bold person, and she acknowledged that such deep friendship, let alone love, was new to her. But the simple fact was that Tara knew, deep down, that if the choice was hers she would be leaving Duncraig at Willow's side, not with the Amazon mission.

'Love,' she suddenly thought, 'gods, did I just think that?' She had known almost from the start that she liked Willow, had quickly come to think of her as a friend, and had looked forward to deepening that friendship into its own kind of love. And there was no way she could deny she was attracted to her, not after the way she felt herself react to Willow's appearance at the dinner last night. 'Not to mention that kiss this morning,' she reminded herself, blushing pleasurably, 'that was hardly a companionable peck on the cheek.' Friendship, attraction, desire…but when had she fallen in love with Willow? Tara wasn't quite sure. Perhaps the moment they met, and it had just been waiting all this time. Or maybe it had been as she accepted first Willow's friendship, then their mutual attraction, and opened herself up to the possibilities from there. 'Perhaps it doesn't matter,' she thought idly, watching Willow chew her food, of all things, and secretly amused at herself for finding something so mundane so entrancing.

"What's a Valkyrie?" Willow asked suddenly, nudging Tara out of her reverie. "Is that like some kind of veteran warrior?"

"Something like that," Tara said with a grin. "Athulua is our central goddess, the wisest and most powerful. The Valkyrie are her handmaidens, th-they serve her and her consort Kethryes. They're the spirits of our greatest warriors, women whose names have become legendary. Some people say that if a warrior is noble, honorable, courageous…well, the ideal of an Amazon warrior, then Athulua will send a Valkyrie to fight by her side when she most needs it. Th-they say if a warrior is honored with a Valkyrie, it means that she's already earned her place with Athulua. That when she dies, whether it's in battle or of old age, she'll become a Valkyrie."

"I don't know," Tara admitted, "I think so, though. Solari, my weapons instructor…she never said she'd seen a Valkyrie, but whenever people talked about them she was always absolutely sure they existed. I think, maybe, one fought with her once. I don't know really," she said with a shy grin, "I'm just guessing…it was just something about her. A-as if she didn't have to believe in them, because she knew."

"That's amazing," Willow said, "that's…some sort of transference with a divine realm…it's the sort of thing that the library back home only has myths about. The priests of Zakarum are supposed to be able to communicate with their ancestors, and a lot of sorceresses aren't even sure that's true. To actually take on physical form…that's almost angelic power! I've got to- It's not an Amazon secret sort of thing, is it?" she asked.

"This definitely belongs in our notebook," Willow decided. She put her plate aside, then paused and smiled serenely at Tara without saying anything.

"Just thinking," Willow explained, "there's so much I never knew. I could listen to you forever." She paused again, and Tara thought she saw a hint of a blush forming on her cheeks. "Not that I'm just with you for the Amazon lore," Willow went on hastily, "I'm not…it's just, you know, additional goodness. But if you were born in the house next to mine, I'd still l- I'd like you just as much."

'She hesitated,' Tara thought, 'she was going to say…was she going to say love?' She gave Willow her warmest smile, while her thoughts swirled around. Was it possible Willow loved her? Tara didn't think of herself as unlovable, by any means, but when she thought of Willow…Willow, who could surely choose anyone she wanted…there was a very strong element of too-good-to-be-true to Tara's thoughts. 'Then again, she returned my friendship, my attraction…could it be our love, not just mine, that's been growing?' She couldn't say, but when she thought about everything that had happened between them…well, even the worst case scenario looked pretty good. Willow liked, her, valued her friendship, enjoyed their closeness, returned Tara's affection…shared with her the most exquisite kiss Tara had ever dreamed of. Even if that was all, if the love of such a goddess in human form really was just a wild hope, Tara decided she would count her blessings.

Tara returned to the Amazon quarters looking entirely gleeful and doing nothing to hide it. When she and Willow had finally parted – Willow promising to meet Tara immediately after breakfast – when they had stood in the doorway of Willow's room, exchanging goodbyes and until-tomorrows, she had had a sudden, tantalizing idea.

'I have to go,' she had said, her hands resting gently on Willow's waist, and then she had tightened her grip, puller her close and whispered softly in her ear: 'but just so you know I don't want to…'

She had paused just long enough to hear the sudden intake of breath as Willow recognized her own words, and what Tara meant by using them, then she let out a slow breath against Willow's ear. Willow shivered at the sensation of the hot air touching her, and Tara immediately followed it with a tiny, playful kiss, the tip of her tongue delicately touching Willow's earlobe before her lips closed on it and sucked briefly. She could feel Willow tremble in her arms, and she gave her ear the tiniest, gentlest nip between her teeth before leaning a little lower, placing a series of feather-light kisses along her jaw. She nudged Willow with her cheek, tilting her head up a fraction so she could leave a final kiss on the soft skin beneath her chin – and she had intended that to be the extent of it, but then Willow made a tiny sound, a sigh half-way between longing and disbelief. It was very quiet, not an abandoned moan of pleasure or a groan of passion, but it carried in it pure desire. Hearing it, realizing she had caused it, Tara allowed herself no choice but to bring her lips to Willow's and kiss her properly.

It was unhurried, undemanding, but utterly arousing. Tara felt Willow's lips open first, and her own followed without thought, then the tips of their tongues were touching – not deep and sexual, the way their kiss in the morning had been, just a series of tiny points of contact between their lips, which was nonetheless completely intimate. The part of Tara still capable of proper thought realized that she shouldn't push further, not yet – she wasn't ready to spend the night with Willow, and if this kiss grew any more heated than it already was, it would be decidedly difficult, not to mention frustrating, to back away. Soon, she promised herself, not yet, but not very far away, and she knew she had within her the patience to wait until she was ready, when there would be no hesitation. In the meantime, she let herself get lost in the sensations of the kiss, the softness of Willow's lips moving slowly against hers, the gentle touch of Willow's hands on her back, even the tiny vibrations that ran through her throat as she gave little, inaudible sighs of pleasure.

At last, together, they reined in their movements, their lips closed, stayed lightly pressed against each other for a moment, then parted. Tara wondered briefly if there was anything she could say, but seeing the look in Willow's eyes she knew she didn't have to say anything. She turned and walked away down the corridor, stopping just briefly to glance over her shoulder as she turned the corner, to see Willow watching her, looking completely joyful.

Willow, staff in hand, did indeed show up outside the common room just as Tara and the Amazons were finishing their morning meal. Both of them were conscious of the merchants and negotiators still eating and discussing the day's business around them, so Tara restrained herself to holding Willow's free hand, and parting her lips in a silent, wished kiss that Willow saw and beamed at. 'Not that they'd mind,' Tara thought, as she cleared away her plates and ducked into her bedroom to collect Silverstrike, 'but some thing are best done in private.'

"Ready," Willow confirmed, taking Tara's hand again as they nodded their goodbyes to Tryptin and left the common room.

"So, a-any advice?" Tara asked as she let Willow lead her through the castle. "W-with unknown magical equipment, I mean."

"I don't think there'll be any problems," Willow said, with a fair degree of confidence. "I was just a bit worried about, you know, being there…it shouldn't be dangerous, but I guess it'd be like being on an old battlefield, you know?" Tara had never even seen a real battlefield, but she had spoken to enough of the older warriors to recognize what Willow meant, and she nodded. "Anyway," Willow went on, "I worked out all my jitters when I woke up, I-I'm pretty calm about it now. I'm still glad you're with me, of course," she hastened to assure Tara.

"Always," Tara promised, which she was gratified to see made Willow grin and blush at the same time.

"Um, there shouldn't be much to worry about," Willow said, "just…well, simple stuff. Don't read anything out loud unless you already know what it means. If there's any jars of blood or anything like that, or if – gods forbid – you cut a finger or something, don't get blood on anything that looks like a mystical artifact…it's all pretty much common sense. Powerful magic isn't easy, and demonology is only easy if you want to summon a demon, which we really don't, so I don't think we're in any danger of accidentally triggering anything. We'll take it slow, though."

Tara went over Willow's advice to herself, and concentrated on her senses as they crossed to the castle keep, heightening her awareness of the forms and sounds around her so that she wouldn't miss anything. In doing so she found she became very aware of Willow – the touch of her hand, the motion of her as they walked, even the faint trace of her scent. She was surprised to find it wasn't really a distraction, so much as a comfort. Soon enough they arrived at the door to the mage's rooms, high in the observatory tower. Two guards were standing outside, with another pair further up the corridor, keeping watch from a distance. They recognized Willow and stood aside, both of them glancing between her and Tara, their eyes drawn to her spear, which with its silver-white blade and inlaid decoration in the shaft was no doubt very different to the kind of weapons they were used to seeing.

The antechamber was small, and mundane. A couple of chairs, a small table – still with a tray bearing yesterday's lunch on it, which fortunately didn't include anything that was particularly pungent as it aged – a map of Kingsport and the surrounding countryside, and a simple chart showing phases of the moon, both pinned to a cork board attached to one wall. There was a narrow archway on one corner, with a spiral stairway leading up to the observatory on the floor above, and two doors. Willow checked the closed one first, peering in to confirm that it was the bedroom, before approaching the door that had been left ajar.

The room beyond was the largest of the suite. Three tall windows faced east, letting in the morning sun. Tapestries adorned all the walls that weren't occupied by shelves, ancient and worn, some displaying geometric patterns, others with the faded remnants of historical scenes. Aside from bookcases and sets of shelves between the windows and beside the door, two entire walls were covered with bookshelves that reached to the ceiling – there was even a ladder, its top supported by tiny wheels resting on a metal rail that ran the length of one of the top shelves. Up near the roof the shelves were closely-spaced, carrying tiny, thin volumes; lower down the shelves, and their occupants, were larger. The bottom shelf, a few inches from the floor, bore huge tomes bound in thick leather, with heavy brass corners and edges on the bindings, some of them large enough that they would need a whole table to themselves to be read.

Hanging in the center of the room was a low chandelier, the candles melted down to stumps, dribbling wax down their sides. Some of the droplets had fallen to the floor, dotting a geometric mosaic that had already been obscured by trails of colored sand, laid out in a complex pattern that was difficult to see above the tiles themselves.

"Don't step into that," Willow advised. The thought had already occurred to Tara – the pattern as indistinct, and one part of it had been badly scuffed by someone's feet, but she was fairly sure she could make out a circle in the design, and even to her mind a circle meant summoning. She avoided the center of the room, instead turning her attention to a long desk, positioned in front of what was evidently a lesser-used set of shelves. It had a few books open on it, but was mostly taken up by intricate metal devices, wheels and arcs of brass hinged together, with tiny numbers engraved on them. Tara thought one of them looked very much like a device Eponin, the mistress of her clan house, had in her study, that showed the positions of various significant stars at certain times, but many of the others were completely beyond her. Most of them were quite beautiful, she thought, but one stood out – a small construct of bent arcs and jagged vanes, fashioned from a dull gray metal. That alone looked somehow malevolent.

"Willow," she said, gesturing to it while keeping her hand well clear of it. Willow glanced at it, and frowned as if a dark suspicion had been confirmed.

"Oculus Daemonicus," she said with a slight shiver, "the demon's eye. It's a sort of orrery, like these others, but instead of stars and planets it shows the positions of the planes of Hell. Well, that settles it, he was using demonic magic."

"Y-you're sure he was using it?" Tara asked, hoping to assuage the dark cloud that seemed to settle on Willow as she pronounced her verdict.

"The circle is pretty strong evidence," she answered, though Tara could see she was grateful for the suggestion, "but the eye is conclusive. It's not just a positioning mechanism, they're made by followers of demonic magic. Part of their purpose is to help rituals like this one, to actually make contact with demons. I've seen one before, in the Zann Esu library – they have a sort of neutral setting, and if the mage didn't want to use this, this one would be aligned like that too. It's not."

She stood in front of the desk, glancing at Tara as if to steel herself, then reached for the device. Tara's first instinct was to question her, but she let herself trust that Willow knew what she was doing. She noticed a thin layer of mist form around her hand, as if the air was chilling – 'a form of defense?' she wondered. Willow gently took hold of one of the eye's protruding vanes and twisted it slightly. Two of the arcs slid a little way around their axles, and Willow let go. Tara thought that the thing seemed…well, deader than before, and was surprised to think she had been noticing something in it that might be thought of as alive. Willow noticed Tara staring at her hand, and wiggled her fingers, grinning.

"Like I said, we've got spells to keep us safe," she explained. "That was just in case, I wouldn't have touched the thing if I really thought it could be dangerous, but it's best to take precautions anyway."

"Oh, it's just an application of cold magic," she said, "we call it 'chill armor'. Informally, of course. Cold magic can slow down pretty much anything, just by freezing the energy out of it. A really powerful sorceress can cast an armor strong enough that any weapon trying to hit her just- well, stops," Willow shrugged. "I've seen it demonstrated. You can swing a sword at it, or fire an arrow, and all the force just gets leached out of it." Tara could see her cheering up as she put the demon's eye out of her mind. "Heh, you know, there's this really weird demonstration that trainees do when they're learning how to cast the armor, to show us how strong it can be. One of the elders, the really powerful sorceresses who teach us, cast an armor on herself, and then each of the trainees gets a short sword and takes a swing at her side. She – it was a woman called Prospera who taught my class – was just wearing traditional battlegear, you understand, just like I was the other night, completely open at the hips, where we were swinging at. I was really afraid I'd hurt her, even after I saw some of the others go first – nuh-uh," she said, grinning at Tara, "it was like hitting a stone column. I dropped the sword, and my arm ached all that afternoon. Prospera didn't even move!"

"You bet," said Willow with a grin, "but that's what cold magic is all about. Fire is the best magic for attacking, for doing damage, lightning is the most versatile – cold is all about defense."

"I'm glad you're good at it," Tara said sincerely. Willow beamed a smile at her, and leant forward to kiss her on the cheek for an instant. Tara was surprised to find herself blushing, but then glad that she was – she liked being able to be as bold as she had become around Willow, yet still feel so pleasantly flustered at such a little thing.

With Tara's help, Willow moved on to the shelves, climbing the ladder and sorting through the books on the high shelves, passing them down for Tara to stack in piles – 'safe' over near the door, and the handful Willow proclaimed 'evil', but harmless to handle, on the other side of the room, beneath the window. Most of the time was spent with Willow leafing through the books, searching for any reference to demonic magic and summoning, but Tara didn't mind the periods of inactivity. Willow was wearing a long skirt, but one slit up quite high for ease of movement, and when she was perched on the ladder skimming books, with Tara standing on the floor beside her, the skirt tended to pull to the side Willow leant to, leaving Tara's face barely inches from an expanse of smooth thigh that fascinated her. In the stretches of time when Willow was silently reading, she occupied herself blissfully by imagining leaning over just a fraction to kiss Willow's perfect skin, and luxuriated in the flutterings the thought caused in her, and found the morning passing quite quickly.

By midday Willow had emptied one wall of books and begun on the second. Eight books lay in a neat stack by the windows. Willow was still absorbed in the shelves when Tara noticed the shadows outside had reached their shortest point, but she was happy to leave the books alone for a while when Tara suggested they break for lunch. They emerged from the mage's rooms to find the guards handing their duties over to their replacements, and one of the departing guards promised to send someone up from the kitchen with enough food for everyone. Willow and Tara ate in the antechamber, sending the leftover meal from the day before back to the kitchens to be disposed of, thus freeing the small table for their own meal. It was only a small surface, intended for letters and such when no-one was in the rooms to receive them, and sitting on either side of it, Willow and Tara's knees tended to rest against each other beneath the table. Neither minded at all.

"Well, it's definitely a summoning circle on the floor," Willow said, "I've read plenty of descriptions of them. Not pictures, of course, if you drew one on a page it'd still have some of the same power as if it was done properly, but there are key features that I recognize. And from that it's obvious that whatever Hydris was doing, he didn't get to set it in motion before he was disturbed."

"Summoning circles vanish once they're used," Willow explained. "And he can't have gotten very far in empowering the circle, or it wouldn't have been possible to disturb the pattern the way he did – when he ran after the girl, I suppose. The texts I've read say that once a circle incantation gets properly underway, the circle is difficult to destroy, it sort of has a life of its own. The smoke the girl smelt was probably part of the initial incantation to wake the circle. We were lucky there, if he'd been further into the summoning, even if he'd been disturbed, whatever he was trying to summon might have been able to complete the ritual from the other end."

"Power," Willow said flatly. "Magic is all about drawing power from outside yourself, and shaping it into the effect you want. There all sorts of sources of power – your gods and goddesses, for example. Mine is cold, which is one of the primals – fire, cold and lightning represent the three primal elements that the world is built on. The cold before creation, the fire of the world's birth, and the lightning energy that binds it all together. There's elements in alchemy too – you know, earth, fire, air, water, everyone knows those ones – they're what the world is made of, but the primals are what the world was made by."

"Yeah, the Esu witches didn't mess around when they chose a discipline to follow," Willow quipped. "Well, it wasn't really about how effective they are. They wanted to avoid the kind of corruption that the other clans were experiencing. The primal elements existed before good and evil, so they can't be influenced by either one. Whether a sorceress is good or evil is her choice, she can't be influenced through her magic…Anyway, I'm getting sidetracked. What was I saying? Oh, demons…Demons can draw power from within themselves. They're the opposite of angels, angels have the power of creation, demons have the power of destruction. The theory is that you summon a demon, bind it to your will, and hey presto, you've got a source of power that never runs dry. Of course it's destructive power, but no-one complains because people who summon demons are usually doing it because they want to destroy something or other."

"Nope," she agreed, "that's just the theory. Most of the demonology texts spell it out like that, but that's not surprising seeing as most of them were created by demons or their allies to lure people into summoning them…See, the binding has to be done by the mage. If it fails, the demon is set loose. And the demon has its own power to challenge the binding, while the mage has only whatever power he can draw from around himself. In the end, the demon always wins."

"Some of them," Willow allowed, "some of the time. Mostly either they don't know, or they don't care. They convince themselves that they can hold the binding, that they won't be overpowered, or that they can banish their demon before it turns on them. I can't figure out that circle, though," she added, glancing at the door to the study.

"I can't see anything around it that looks like a binding circle," Willow said, "either he was going to draw it while the ritual was going on, which is risky, or he wasn't going to use one…that's just plain stupid. Even the kind of people who summon demons know you can't trust them. I don't know. I'll have another look at it, try to work it out, then we'll get rid of it. I don't think there's any power left in it, but I'd like it gone anyway."

"M-me too," Tara admitted, "you know, I keep worrying that I'll forget it's there, and walk right into it or something." She shrugged and cast a shy smile at Willow.

Willow made good on her promise the moment she and Tara had finished lunch. She spent a moment examining the pattern from all angles, then shrugged to Tara and took a step back from it. With one hand she created and aimed a billowing stream of condensation, which soaked the circle and blurred the intricate runes that had been painstakingly formed by the tiny trails of sand.

"That should do it," Willow said. Tara was relieved, and could see that Willow was too – she had a spring in her step that had been absent before as she retrieved a broom from the antechamber and began sweeping the wet sand into a pile.

"You know- ow!" she exclaimed suddenly. Tara started, suddenly fearful that something had gone wrong, but Willow shot her a quick look to reassure her, and picked up a tiny stone from the floor, where she had trodden on it. She examined it, moving to the window for better light.

"Take a look at this," she said. Tara did, and saw the pebble was in fact a tiny pyramid, its four miniscule faces each carved with a single rune.

"I think we've found our binding circle," Willow said triumphantly. She dropped the carved pebble into Tara's palm and began sifting through the pile of sand she had created, which was beginning to dry out. She found more stones, each only the size of the tip of her little finger – cubes, balls, more pyramids, each with a handful of runes carved on it.

"Must've been underneath the sand," Willow guessed, "I haven't heard of that, but then again I'm not really the expert on all things demonic and dumb-to-experiment-with…Some of these are runes of power, though." She sorted through the collection of stones, examining each one before placing it on the desk.

"Power, power," she murmured as she identified each one, "something to do with location, this one's to reinforce the spell, this one I don't know, maybe some sort of astrological siphon though…whoa, this is interesting."

Tara peered at the stone between Willow's fingers. It was a tiny disc, smooth on one side, with a single rune on the other.

"It's an old form of writing, from Kehjistan before they invented the Khejan alphabet. I think it says 'Hydris', or something phonetically similar. He customized the spell to himself. What was someone that bright doing with demons?"

"It's…well, elegant," Willow said, "most rituals have been done for centuries, with dozens of mages studying them and perfecting them in a generic form. To break down a ritual and alter it so it's optimized for a particular caster is…well, it's a hell of a lot of work, but if you do it right it makes it easier, and better."

"I-I got the impression summoners didn't have too much power of their own," Tara said, "th-that they were looking for a quick way to gain power."

"That's almost always true," Willow said. "I guess we've found an exception, though. Can you see another one of these around somewhere?" Tara sorted through the small pile of stones, while Willow checked the sand and the center of the room to make sure she hadn't missed any. She found another sphere, but no more discs.

"Just a hunch," Willow said, "I thought maybe if he altered the ritual to himself, he might have done the same for the demon he was trying to reach. That'd be the most efficient way – instead of a 'mage binding demon' spell, he'd have an optimized 'Hydris binding insert-name-here' spell. Strange…if he had the ability to do half of it, it shouldn't have been difficult to do the rest." She shrugged.

"Or just nuts," Willow said, "the chasing people with knives episode doesn't sound like someone in their right mind. Demonology can do that. Oh well…"

She put the sand and the rune stones beside the books she had chosen as being dangerous, quickly checked the smaller bookcases – all inconsequential volumes, she found – and then went back to work on the second wall of shelves, Tara replacing the safe books on the first as she did. She did the top first, then turned the ladder over to Willow once she had filled all the shelves that were out of reach from the floor.

"Is there anyone else here you're supposed to study with?" Tara asked after a while.

"No, Hydris was it," Willow said, talking and reading at the same time. "Kingsport isn't really a place where mages make their homes. Too commercial, I think. Ember's notebook had a lot about all the shipping trade that passes through the port, apparently even the towns out here are caught up in it. Mages don't like too much business going on around them, as a rule. They prefer…oh, you know, quiet towers where they can stargaze and collect rare art, without running into merchants and laborers whenever they have to go out to get some supplies. I suppose I didn't really expect too much from the mages in the city. Hydris probably wouldn't have lived here, if it weren't for the position – being mage to a noble court is pretty prestigious."

"Once they hear what's happened, I guess so. They'll probably send a team to investigate, and have one of them stay on with the Baron when they're finished. That's what the Order does. The Zann Esu were pretty much completely isolationist until the Reckoning, so there aren't any ancient traditions of how sorceresses get chosen for court appointments. We basically stole all those practices from the Vizjerei."

"No-one to meet," Willow clarified, "but that just means more time to spend with you." She blushed, and glanced over her shoulder. Tara smiled fondly at her, which seemed to reassure her she hadn't assumed too much.

"You promised to teach me how to use a bow," Willow reminded her, returning her attention to the books, but with a wide smile now adorning her face.

"I haven't forgotten," Tara promised. She was pleased beyond words that Willow was looking forward to being with her, even if it wasn't very much of a surprise. She had also noticed the playful tone in Willow's voice when she reminded Tara of her promise, and that set her mind working.

The next time Willow finished with a half-dozen books and called for Tara to take them to the 'safe' pile, Tara balanced the books in one hand, used her other hand to gently draw the back of Willow's skirt aside, revealing the back of her thigh, and quickly placed a kiss there. She heard Willow's startled intake of breath, but she immediately turned, and felt Willow's gaze on her back as she crossed the room and added the books to the newest of the stacks forming there. She picked up several of the morning's books from their pile and headed to return them to their shelves, and as she did so, she was sure she caught a glimpse of a wicked smile on Willow's face as she quickly turned back to her work.

She repeated her teasing kiss when next Willow had some books for her, and this time glanced over her shoulder as she walked away. She was just quick enough to see Willow notice her looking and turn away, hiding her excited grin. Next time she collected some books, she leant down a little and gave Willow a playful nip on the sensitive skin on the back of her knee. She was sure she heard the beginning of a moan, quickly hushed, but otherwise Willow continued the pretence that she was absorbed in her reading. After that she returned to kisses for a couple of trips, but she noticed with a sly grin that Willow had taken to handing her one book at a time, rather than waiting for an armful to be finished with.

Tara continued her game through the afternoon, pausing only to bring in a candelabra from outside when the waning light on the castle walls beyond the windows no longer lit the room enough to read by. For the most part she restrained herself to brief kisses, on the side or back of the thigh revealed by the slit in Willow's skirt. Now and then, in the interests of keeping Willow guessing, Tara told herself, she would vary her technique. She once drew the skirt across far enough to kiss Willow's other thigh, on the side the skirt wasn't slit, so that for an instant both her legs were revealed almost as high as they went. When Willow started on the final, top shelf, and moved up a step on the ladder, Tara gently grazed her teeth over the back of Willow's knees, or touched the skin there with the tip of her tongue. All the while she was conscious of the increased speed of Willow's breathing, and the breathy tone her voice took on whenever she told Tara she had finished with another book.

Tara began to pay close attention to how many books Willow had left, and escalated her teasing. When Willow finished with the bulky Vizjerei histories, Tara leant up and left a kiss just a little further towards the inside of her thigh than she had previously. When the scrolls were done, she bent down to press her open lips to Willow's calf for a second, just above the top of the soft boots she was wearing. At last there was only a small stack of map-books to go, and as Willow was positioned directly in front of them, Tara couldn't see exactly how many of them there were. On the first, she rubbed her cheek gently against Willow's thigh before quickly kissing it and withdrawing. On the second she kissed the back of her knee again, this time trailing a finger up her calf as she did so. On the third, she started at Willow's knee, and slowly drew her tongue up along the length of Willow's thigh, stopping just before she would have had to get the skirt out of the way completely. She felt the shudder that ran through Willow, and her own legs were feeling more than a little shaky, but she composed herself and managed to give off an air of benign indifference as she carried the book over to the stacks, sure Willow was watching her all the way.

"Last one," Willow said – she did her best to sound nonchalant, but Tara could hear the anticipation she was trying to hide. She set her face in a perfectly neutral expression, and walked across to Willow, who had come down a step on the ladder, still facing the shelves.

Instead of handing Tara a book, Willow turned around on the ladder, looking down at her with a victorious grin.

"You know," Tara said with a smile, "it's not nice to fool a simple Amazon girl like that."

"Oh no?" Willow replied, taking a further step down the ladder. "And what might this simple Amazon girl do now that she knows her innocent trust has been taken advantage of?"

Tara took a step forward, which left barely an inch between her face and Willow's chest as she stared up at her.

"That's no fun," Willow said, taking one more step down, her thighs touching Tara's hips as she did so. "I think she should stay here, and let me make it up to her."

"Are you sure?" Tara asked with a teasing grin. "You know what Amazons are like with honor…it might take a lot of making up." She took another half-step forward, pressing Willow against the ladder. Willow's grin broadened into a wide smile. Before Tara knew what was happening, Willow had shook her leg free of her skirt and raised it around Tara's waist, using it to hold Tara there while her hands gripped the sides of the ladder.

"I'll be thorough," she promised. Quick as a flash she leant down and kissed Tara, pressing her open lips against Tara's mouth, while her tongue sought entry. Tara opened her mouth at once, and pressed back, their tongues dueling in a private frenzy of pent-up desire. Willow had to keep one hand on the ladder to help herself balance, but the other pressed against Tara's back, drawing her as close as she could be. Tara wished she had chosen a thinner tunic, nevertheless feeling every motion of Willow's hand as if it were lighting a trail of fire on her skin. She quickly returned the favor, snaking both her arms around Willow's waist, between her back and the rungs of the ladder, firmly stroking the smooth curves of her body.

Willow moaned loudly without breaking the kiss, which sent a bolt of desire through Tara the like of which she was quite sure she'd never felt before. She wrapped one arm around Willow's waist, making her arch her back so that every inch of their bodies was pressed together, while her other hand reached the back of Willow's head, her fingers tangling themselves in Willow's hair. Willow adjusted the leg she had clamped around Tara, pressing her thigh against Tara's side, rubbing it seductively up and down between her waist and her hip. Tara let out a little aroused cry, and lost all her concentration for a moment, opening her lips wide and letting Willow's tongue claim her mouth unopposed.

The kiss continued for a moment, until Tara drew the hand on Willow's back down over her hips, and then up underneath the bare leg wrapped around her side. Willow tore her lips away and threw her head back – if not for Tara's restraining hand, she would have fetched herself a nasty bump on the ladder.

"Tara!" she exclaimed, just managing to keep her voice down to a husky growl, so as not to alert the guards two doors away. "Gods," she breathed, gazing back down into Tara's eyes. Tara could see the desire in her eyes – she knew it well enough from having felt it build in herself all afternoon.

"Willow," she whispered, at once a declaration and a plea. Willow shifted her hips, sitting on the ladder's closest step, and lifted her other leg up around Tara, her skirt bunching around her right thigh as her ankles hooked around each other in the small of Tara's back. They kissed again, and again, pressing their open lips together in between quick gasps for air, both losing themselves in the sensations as their lips became wet, and their tongues stroked sensuously along each other's lengths. Tara drew her fingers out of Willow's hair and traced a path down her back, tantalizingly close to her bottom as she passed over her hips. Finally she had both hands beneath Willow's thighs, her palms pressing firmly up against Willow's legs, her fingers curling inward, rubbing against her inner thighs. Willow let go of the ladder, trusting Tara not to let her fall off, and wrapped both arms around Tara's waist, stroking up and down her back. She quickly began to broaden the trails she was exploring with her hands, coming in at Tara's sides, her thumbs just beginning to reach the sides of Tara's breasts. Tara's breathing, between kisses, became increasingly ragged. She started letting out little cries with each breath, mingling with the moaning that Willow was giving voice to with increasing volume.

After her bold start, Tara could scarcely believe what was happening. She had spent the morning dreaming about kissing Willow's thigh, a simple act which she found incredibly erotic by itself – she hadn't really thought, until the moment came, that she would actually go through with it. Her teasing of Willow had gone ahead in a daze of delight, but never – not that morning, not the night of the dinner when she had first seen Willow, nor any other time she had allowed herself to fantasize about touching her – never had she imagined such a monumental, intimate and above all unrestrained embrace. Her hands seemed to have minds of their own, gently stroking and squeezing Willow's thighs, her mouth returned Willow's kisses with a passionate frenzy she would never have guessed she was capable of, and when she thought she felt a distinct warmth between Willow's legs, pressed against her belly through the fabric of her tunic, she wondered if this was when she would pass out.

She never found out whether she would lose consciousness, but her heart nearly leapt out of her chest when she heard a loud banging from the door behind them. She opened her eyes, staring straight into Willow's equally wide-eyed stare for a split second, before Willow jolted in surprise and lost her seat on the ladder. Tara staggered backwards slightly, but kept her balance as Willow's hands clutched her back, so she ended up in the middle of the room, her arms supporting Willow, whose four limbs were wrapped around her and who was clinging like a shocked limpet.

"Lady? Miss Willow?" came the voice of one of the guards from beyond the door. "Is everything okay, ma'am? We heard raised voices."

Tara managed to close her lips and draw back from the motionless kiss she was sharing with Willow, who for her part simply stared, wide-eyed and open-mouthed.

"Miss Willow? Lady Tara?" came the guard's voice again, this time more than a little anxious.

"We're fine!" Willow yelled suddenly, her voice notably higher than usual. "Everything's fine! Thank you! Don't come in, we're cleaning up the ritual! Thanks!"

"Very well ma'am," came the guard's voice, after a moment's pause in which neither Willow nor Tara dared breathe. "Sorry to disturb you. See, I told you, it's just magic goings-on…" the voice trailed off, evidently addressed to the second guard, and audible to Willow and Tara only because of the dead silence in the room.

For a moment both Willow and Tara remained silent, listening to the sound of the antechamber's door being closed. Then Tara bit her tongue, Willow gnawed on her bottom lip, and they both burst into a fit of giggles.

"Um, you can put me down now," Willow managed to squeak between laughs. Tara let her thighs slide out of her grip, and Willow gently returned to the floor, keeping her arms casually looped around Tara's waist. Tara stared at her, falling in love with her mischievous grin. Though the intense passion of the moment had been swept away, now that the shock was wearing off she was barely able to keep herself from giggling again at the absurdity of the situation.

"You're strong," Willow observed, her voice slightly dreamy. Tara blushed and looked down.

"I had kind of linked the strength thing with being all stern and intimidating. This is like…best of both worlds," Willow finished with a wink, which made Tara giggle again.

"Um, w-we should finish up here," Tara said after taking a deep breath to steady herself.

"I'll help," Willow offered, darting towards the piles of books that needed to be returned to the shelves she had been checking. Between them they managed to have everything back in its place, aside from the three more books that had gone on the 'evil' stack, in record time. Willow had to climb the ladder again to replace the volumes on the top shelves, and Tara took the chance to plant a quick kiss on the outside of her thigh, receiving a brilliant smile from Willow in return. Otherwise, though, they contained themselves.

It was as Tara was leaning down to pick up the last pair of books that she noticed something half-hidden under the bottom of the skirting board, where it didn't quite reach the floor. She handed the books to Willow and crouched down, nudging the tiny object out of hiding with the tip of her finger.

"Willow?" she called. She picked up the tiny stone disc and glanced at it, seeing the lone rune on its face, before handing it to Willow.

"Maybe," Tara thought aloud, "if they were in the circle, when he kicked the sand it got knocked away. I-is it the demon rune?" She looked over her shoulder, and saw that Willow's face had paled.

"Yes," she said, her voice hoarse. Tara was on her feet and gently holding Willow's arms by the elbows as she continued to stare at the rune, her breath coming in short gasps.

"Willow, what's wrong?" Tara asked, almost afraid to raise her voice louder than a whisper.

"The demon," she said, her voice flat and thick with buried emotion, "I've seen the demon."

"It's where all this began," Willow said, her voice quiet and emotionless. Once she had calmed herself, with Tara's soothing help, Willow had had one of the guards fetch the master-at-arms. She had quickly explained how he should have the ritual sand and rune-stones disposed of, and advised that, with the Baron's approval, the books she had separated from the library should be sealed and locked in a safe place, and on no account read, until the Vizjerei could send a mission to investigate the betrayal of their comrade. She had maintained her calm well, but Tara could sense the tension in her, and when Willow held out her hand she gladly took it, and kept hold of it all the way back to the Amazon quarters. They had acknowledged the greetings of the various merchants who had already begun dinner, and Tara had collected enough food for both of them while Willow sought the solitude of Tara's bedroom. Now they sat on the bed, side-by side, Willow toying with her food and staring blankly at the opposite wall, Tara patiently waiting as she gathered her nerves.

"The Order has…had an arrangement with a hospice in Entsteig," Willow continued, "a big place thirty miles outside Gotunberg-Sallna. The Chancellor of the cities had it built after the Reckoning, to deal with all the refugees from Khanduras, a-and he brought alchemists and physicians and healers from everywhere he could. They said it was the biggest center of healing in all the Western Kingdoms. Fire sorcery is part healing, you know, replenishing the body's energy…we all learn a little of it, to keep from exhausting ourselves when we cast magic, but some fire sorceresses have the talent to use it to heal physical injuries. The Chancellor agreed to have the Zann Esu keep a presence in the hospice, to learn and teach healing, and also just to have some sorceresses around. Over the years the hospice's library grew until it was enormous – all the visiting doctors and healers would bring their own books, and they'd have scribes make new copies for the hospice…most of them were at least partly magical, and mages, even ones who didn't practice healing magic, would visit to study the books there. That's why they sent me and the others, five of us, even though Saria was the only one who used fire.

"It happened one night after five months studying there, with visiting mages and the sorceress elders who were assigned to the hospice permanently. Ember and the elders had gone to the cities for a council with the Chancellor, and most of the student physicians were at a conference…it was pretty empty. I always used to stay up late in the library, reading all sorts of things. During the day we were supervised, but at night I could read whatever I wanted, almost. I was always sleeping in because of it, I'd get back to our quarters at midnight and lie awake thinking about what I'd been reading…This night, we'd been talking amongst ourselves, the other girls and I, and then they'd gone to sleep. I couldn't get to sleep, so I went down to the library alone to read for a while.

"I got there and the door was locked – I didn't know why, unless the caretakers had closed it up, with so many of the students away for the night, but they usually left it open. I knocked, and looked for a caretaker, but I couldn't find anyone, so I waited for a little while, then I got up to leave. I was just walking out into the cloister, and…everything turned red for a second, like coals at the bottom of a fire, and then I blacked out…"

Willow came slowly and painfully back to awareness, conscious first of something sharp digging into her leg, then the cold of night air on her back. She opened her eyes and winced as for a second the dim light of torches and stars pierced her eyes like the sun. She felt a throbbing pain in her forehead, and when she touched the pain her skin felt sticky, and her fingers came back with blood on them. She struggled up to a sitting position, rubbing the painful bruise where her leg had come to rest on top of a jagged stone, and dabbed at the cut on her head, relieved to find that it was small, and had already stopped bleeding. Only then, dazed as she was, did she take stock of her surroundings.

The cloister had been shattered as if by an earthquake. Many of the stone arches had collapsed, fracturing the flagstones beneath them with huge chunks of masonry. The walls beyond were cracked, the stained-glass windows in them broken into tiny shards that littered the ground beneath their empty frames. Where Willow last remembered being, just beneath the northern archway, a heap of stone had fallen, and either she had run without remembering it, or some force had thrown her clear of it. She stared past it, seeing the huge wooden doors of the library hanging off their hinges. By the light of the few torches still burning in their brackets, and a few others that had fallen to the ground and not yet extinguished themselves, she could see just a little of the library itself, enough to see that the orderly rows of books had been tossed about by the same force that had shattered the cloister.

Leaning on a wall for support, glancing nervously around herself at the fractured stones and cracked roof beams, Willow made her way around the edge of the cloister to the library doorway. She slipped between the damaged doors, and stood dumbly in the doorway, gazing at the devastation that had been wrought inside. The entire roof of the library, with all its massive, immovable beams, had been torn away to reveal the stars – not collapsed, she realized, but flung outwards, for the debris scattered across the floor was only from the shelves and their contents. She took a few shaky steps forward, to where the glass dome had used to be, but there was no trace of it. She stared at the jagged tops of the walls, vaguely noticing the broken ends of wooden beams, twisted and torn upwards – it was as if a massive explosion had erupted from within the library itself, but she couldn't understand how a force great enough to blow away the entire roof could leave even a shred of paper within intact, let alone the scattered remains of a thousand books that covered the ground.

Willow somehow felt the sound before she heard it: a strange, purring growl from the darkened remains of the library's east wing, which had been the largest of the three. Images of wild animals flashed through her mind as she slowly turned, trembling and fighting the urge to run and hide. Her jaw dropped as the unlit torches, hanging from their brackets or cast to the floor, burst into life, flames leaping up from the blackened wood, starting on either side of her and continuing, two by two, down the length of the wing. When enough torches had sprung to life, when the creature there was finally revealed, Willow screamed, and her legs collapsed from underneath her. She wanted to flee, to close her eyes, to do anything, but her body wouldn't answer.

It was huge, fifteen feet tall, roughly female in form. Its skin was deathly pale and porcelain-smooth, decorated with runes cut into its flesh, the blood within glowing red and seeping out of the wounds as it moved. It had hooves instead of feet, but no hair around them like a horse or a goat, simply skin that bulged out around its ankles and split to reveal the masses of bone, each hoof covered in dozens of tiny metal spikes, driven into the bone. Its legs were slender, almost too thin to bear its body, yet it seemed to have all the strength it needed as it drew itself up to its full height. As Willow's eyes traveled up its body she saw bronze rings driven through the flesh of its thighs, each one adorned with a glistening wet tag – human tongues, she realized, feeling her stomach lurch. Then her eyes moved again, and saw that the pale, rotting thing covering its crotch was the skin of a human face, eyes and mouth stitched shut, supported by the remaining strands of its scalp, which were stretched over metal hooks protruding from the creature's prominent hips.

Willow felt the bile rise in her throat, but she fought against it, terrified of what she saw, yet even more afraid to look away, even for an instant. The torches around it burned brighter, lighting its torso so she could see, at the center of its impossibly thin stomach, a glistening wet horn protruding from its navel. Two more, thin and vicious, jutted out from bloody wounds in the center of each of its heavy breasts, which were decorated with rings bearing chains and scraps of flesh. An open wound ran from its cleavage, up the length of its neck, splitting the lower of its lips. From the bridge of its nose ran a series of horns, growing in length and width as they reached up its forehead and over its scalp. Its hair was jet black, long enough to reach its waist, but it floated as if the creature was underwater, streaming behind it when it moved. Then Willow saw its eyes, and forgot everything else – they were blood-red, as if the sockets were filled with the fumes of hell's fires, and tiny tendrils of crimson vapor crept from them, teasing around its brows – pierced with metal nails and rings – before dissipating in the night air. The eyes carried such malice, such hatred for purity and innocence, that Willow thought she had stared into hell itself.

It held Willow's gaze for a long time – how long, she didn't even know, just that every passing second felt like her soul was being damned a thousand times – then it raised a hand and pointed a long, thin finger at her. It was only then, when its hand rose between Willow's gaze and its eyes, that the spell was broken. Willow noticed a limp shape clutched in its other claw – the body of a robed man, too torn and bloodied to be identified further. Her eyes kept sliding back to the talon it pointed at her, as she waited for the thing to make its move.

All Willow could do was shake her head. No force in the world could have made her move an inch towards the terrible sight in front of her. The monster reared back, dropping its hand, then in a flash of movement dashed the corpse in its other hand against the wall, smashing its head to a pulp against the stone. It leaned forward and let out a bellow of rage, its split lower lip parting, either side of its jaw stretching out so that its maw gaped open wide enough to swallow a man whole. Willow had a glimpse of rows of serrated teeth, then the mouth snapped shut, with a ragged spurt of blood from the wound down its neck as it closed. It lifted a leg and slammed down its hoof, cracking the stone beneath it. With the sound of a thunderstorm it crashed towards Willow.

Willow's primal survival instinct overruled the terror gripping her mind, and she leapt to her feet, the shimmering mist of a chill armor forming around her even as the creature reached out a wickedly-clawed hand to grasp her. It bellowed in rage as its fingers came into contact with the tightly-controlled mist, drawing back its hand. It spread its arms wide, and the thin horns protruding from its breasts and stomach stirred, then leapt out at Willow, supported by thin, bloody steel chains that whipped out of the creature's body. The horns each split into three parts, like tiny claws, then they slammed themselves against Willow's armor, sending her flying backwards. The spell absorbed most of the shock of her landing, but the effort shattered its energies, and Willow staggered to her feet, defenseless, as the monster bore down on her, its clawed chains writhing in the air in front of it, reaching out towards her.

"Come now, little one," it sighed, "not hurt…help, yes, much power, much pleasure…play with flesh, yes?"

From some inner place of calm, Willow drew the conclusion that she had a single chance to save herself: one casting, which would either drive the creature away from her, or else fail and leave her to its mercy. She couldn't cast another armor, not so quickly, and in any case it wouldn't last longer than the first. She could create shards of ice, to try to wound it, but she doubted whether she could hurt it enough to keep it away from her. Once it reached her, and hurt her badly, she wouldn't be able to concentrate properly, and it could do as it pleased.

Desperation drove away the warnings that had been drummed into Willow by her Zann Esu tutors. She raised her hand, as if to ward off the creature's blows, and spoke words she had never used before, but had studied their pronunciation until she knew them by heart. She felt something inside her tug at her body, almost dragging her a step forward, but the monster was drawing up in shock, its burning eyes darting around in confusion. Willow steeled herself and continued the incantation, feeling the power flow out of her, forcing herself to stare at the hellish thing's eyes as she spoke the ancient rite of banishment.

The creature's chains retracted back into its body, leaving trails of blood beneath the bone claws in its flesh, which flexed like the beaks of hungry birds. It raised its arms, pushing on either side of itself as if encased in an invisible prison, one that was slowly shrinking around it. For a moment, a brief, triumphant moment, Willow saw something like fear in its inhuman eyes. But then it met her stare, and she recoiled as she felt something flow back along the bridge of power between them.

The monster's power was like an oil slick, viscous and slimy, crawling across her skin and making her feel like she would never be clean again. She staggered back from the shock of it, then redoubled her efforts, forcing her own energy back towards its target. Pitting her will against the monster's unfathomable mind, she hammered against its power, strengthening the bonds holding it, marshalling all her strength for one last strike against the unearthly energy keeping its body intact on the mortal plane. The creature actually fell back a step, then roared again through its gaping jaws. Willow could feel its power near her, just barely held at bay by the spell she was weaving around it, could feel the lances of energy it tried to send through the conduit between them, which if they landed would wrack her body with pain, collapsing the spell in a second. She gritted her teeth, ignoring the sweat trickling into her eyes, and fought for her life.

"I-I was losing," Willow admitted. "I put everything I had into banishing it, but it wasn't enough. It kept pushing back, a-and I could feel the walls around it weakening, and the power from it getting closer to me. It was getting stronger, it was…like it was feeding off the energy, because I wasn't strong enough to shut it out."

Tara silently reached out and took Willow's hand, holding it gently and stroking the back of her hand with her thumb. Willow took a deep breath, which shuddered in her throat, and blinked away the tears that had started to form in her eyes.

"I was sure I was going to die," she went on. "A-and I wasn't frightened, I was ashamed…I hadn't kept my magic pure, the way the Zann Esu taught me. I'd tried to be a hero, and because of that it was going to take all my power…if I'd just stuck to my elementals, it could only have killed me, it wouldn't have been able to reach inside me. B-but now it could, a-and it was my fault…I was afraid for all the people it would hurt, because of the power I gave it.

"Then something hit it, and I got tossed away. I hit my head, and everything was spinning for a moment, and it hurt like hell. The pain snapped me back to thinking, and I looked up and saw the thing being bombarded by ice bolts, fireballs, lightning, the whole works. While I'd been unconscious in the cloister, everyone in the hospice who hadn't been killed by collapsing ceilings and walls had got out, and gone into the city to get help. Ember knew I was still alive, she could sense it, a-and she sensed the creature as well. She and the other elders had to blast their way through the ruins to get to the library, and they got there just in time to save me. I think…another second, and the thing would've had me.

"I just scrambled further away from it, and watched it try to fight back. It really didn't have a chance…Ember and the others were so powerful, a-and it had only just been summoned, and it hadn't quite broken the banishment I put around it before they started hitting it. The flagstones at its feet were actually melting from the heat of the fire Ember was pouring into it, and the air around it was almost crystallizing from Cyan and Prospera freezing it. A-and Symphony, she had chains made of lightning wrapped around it, spinning so fast, and they were tearing it up like barbed wire. It was bleeding so much…"

She glanced at Tara, and her face softened from the stony calm she had taken on.

"It doesn't matter," she said, "trust me, you don't want to know. It was the most horrible thing I've ever seen, that about covers it. A-and then there was this deafening crack, and I felt what was left of the banishment spell lurch…it actually pulled be forward for a second. Then it was gone. Even the blood, it all vanished in an instant. Ember and the others had weakened it so much that the spell finally worked, and…that was it."

"That was the demon Hydris was trying to summon?" Tara asked quietly. Willow nodded.

"I think so…I mean, I'm still not sure exactly what he was doing, summoning or maybe just communicating, it's hard to tell. The rune said 'Khalsu', which is what the old Vizjerei clansmen called it. When the Horadrim wrote the Book of Foes, which we still use, they called it Shadai. It was weak when I saw it…it's such a strong demon, the mage who summoned it had to put all his power into just bringing it here, there must've been almost nothing left to make its body strong. Which is what I almost gave it," she added with a scowl.

"No, it- I mean, yes," Willow admitted, "it was the banishing spell, but it didn't matter. A few more seconds of fire and ice and chain lightning and it would've been wrecked, and forced back to hell anyway. All I did was give it a chance at becoming stronger, a-and it was just luck that it didn't get it."

Tara saw Willow's shoulders slump, and couldn't think of anything but finding a way to bring back the sparkle that had been in her eyes earlier in the day. She leant beside her, put both arms around her waist, and rested her head on Willow's shoulder, gently nuzzling the base of her neck.

"You survived," she whispered, "and however it happened, you won. That's all that matters now. You're here." She felt Willow's hair tickling her face, as Willow leant her head on top of Tara's.

"After it happened, when we were going back to the Church, for a while I wished I had stuck to my cold magic, and died." Willow put an arm around Tara, hugging her gently, and with her other hand stroked the arm around her own waist.

"I was so afraid of what I'd almost let happen," she admitted, "but Ember helped me. You know, she said almost exactly what you did? She said all that mattered was that it had turned out okay, and I had survived. She told me to learn from my mistake, not to retreat from it. I had the choice of just staying in the Church, where I'd be safe, a-and there'd always be elders to keep me from making another mistake. Ember convinced me to stand before the Council, to ask for their judgment so I could continue as a sorceress. And they sent me here. I-I'm so glad they did, now. I don't want to be anywhere but here."

Tara hugged Willow tighter and closed her eyes, feeling the woman in her arms relax. She was aware, in a distant sort of way, of the warmth that spread through her at Willow's touch, but she had no desire at the moment but to hold her, comfort her and chase away the fears that ailed her.

"Tomorrow I'll talk to the Baron," Willow said eventually, "tell him what we found in Hydris's rooms."

"Tomorrow," said Tara firmly. Willow tightened her hug for a moment, then reluctantly stood up and straightened her skirt.

"I should…you make me feel so much better, you know?" she asked rhetorically. "You're beautiful…" She trailed off, staring wistfully at Tara for a few seconds before she seemed to snap out of it and become flustered. Tara blushed, and smiled when she noticed Willow doing the same. Willow nervously played with the edge of her skirt.

"Um, it's late, I should go get some sleep…" she said hesitantly. As Tara stood up from the bed, Willow was already reaching for her staff, propped in a corner against Silverstrike.

"Stay?" Tara said, surprising herself. Willow looked back at her with an odd mixture of hope and anxiety. "I-I mean," Tara went on, "if you w-want…y-you don't have to go. I-it's been a tough day, a-and you don't need to be alone…and I'd like it…if y-you stayed… please?"

Willow's eyes glistened with moisture. She sniffed back a sob, then nodded once, quickly, swallowing her tears. Tara went to her and enveloped her in a chaste embrace, the one hand around her body still, the other softly stroking her hair. Willow buried her face in Tara's shoulder, drawing deep, sighing breaths, but she didn't cry. Tara gently led her back to the bed and sat her down without letting go. Willow finally raised her head and looked at Tara.

"I-" she began, then hesitated. But the sweet smile on her lips was all the gratitude Tara needed. She ran her fingers through Willow's hair one last time, then got back up.

"I'll just take the plates outside," Tara replied, "I'll change in one of the spare rooms…give you some privacy. I-I'll be back in a few minutes. Um, if you want something to sleep in, feel free." She gestured towards the small trunk in the corner she had filled with her spare clothes. Willow nodded, and Tara quickly gathered their plates, balanced them in one hand while she found a slip and robe, then cast a reassuring smile back at Willow as she opened the door a fraction and went out.

Willow took a deep breath, then stood up and looked in the trunk for something suitable. She was amazed at how Tara made her feel safe, and warm, and content – as if something inside her wouldn't let her be at peace, unless Tara was there. She hadn't meant to go on about the demon at such length or in such detail, and she hoped Tara would be able to put the grisly spectacle of it out of her mind, but…once she had started talking, the whole story just seemed to flow out of her. She had never spoken about it very much, to anyone – Ember had been there, seen what she had seen, and had needed to ask only a few questions to fill in the details she didn't know of that night's events. Willow hadn't wanted to talk about it then, and Ember had respected that. The Council had been informed of what happened by the various elders, Ember included. Willow remembered the hollow feeling she had experienced when she had to sit down with one of the Council's scribes, to make sure the official account of the incident included all the details she could remember. She had had to mention one or two things, but other than that she had remained silent, as the scribe read from his scroll, in an efficient, emotionless tone, the account of the event that had scarred Willow's mind. Particularly in the first weeks, but even now, she had nightmares about the library, and the demon's burning, hating eyes. She had never talked to anyone about it. Until now. It felt good.

She turned over the edges of a couple of folded bundles, looking for nightwear. A thin cotton slip seemed appropriate, but then the corner of something dark and smooth caught her eye. She uncovered the garment and held it up, letting out a slow breath as she did. It was a silk robe, a lustrous black, and so smooth it was a pleasure to hold. As Willow held it up, she saw that it was cut almost high enough to be considered a shirt – she held it against herself, and it was short of the middle of her thighs. She wondered what in the world an Amazon warrior was doing with something like this – 'Well, wearing it, probably,' she thought back at herself. She looked in the mirror and pictured Tara wearing the short robe, with the thin sash looped around her waist, and the neckline invitingly open. 'Okay, calm down,' she told herself, 'she asked you to stay because you're upset, not because she wants to play dress-up. Or dress down, even.' Willow couldn't help grinning. She put the robe back in the trunk, and laid the cotton slip out on the bed, ready to wear.

She tore her attention away from the robe and realized Tara would be back any moment. She took off her skirt and folded it neatly with practiced ease, then kicked off her boots and undid her belt, checking to make sure all its tiny pouches were securely sealed. Her tunic followed, and the bra underneath it, which she folded and put beneath her skirt, feeling somewhat shy about having items of her underwear lying around Tara's room in plain view. She was just straightening up when she caught sight of herself in the mirror again. 'Oh gods,' she thought suddenly, 'I'm nearly naked! In her room! I'm about to sleep next to her, in the same bed, what do I do? Do I just go to sleep beside her, or can I give her a kiss goodnight- Do I snore? I hope I don't snore, I don't want to wake her- No, wait, we slept next to each other in the caravan, and she didn't wake up. Okay, calm down…' She took a few deep breaths, then noticed her chest moving up and down as she did so, and had another attack of nerves. 'I mean, I know this is really an emotional-support sleeping arrangement, but it's not like we're just friends…gods, she sent me wild all afternoon, and if that guard hadn't interrupted I don't know what would've happened…Hey, stop thinking about that!' she chastised herself, glaring at her reflection. 'I wonder if she'll want to snuggle…do Amazons kiss goodnight? Please let Amazons kiss goodnight…'

Willow jumped as a knock on the door pierced the silence of her runaway thoughts.

"Willow?" came Tara's voice. Willow flung on her nightwear, and had already called out "Come in" to Tara when she realized she had tossed the slip back in the trunk, and wrapped herself in Tara's silk robe. 'Okay, that can't have been purely accidental,' she thought with the part of her brain that wasn't panicking.

Tara was wearing a long crimson robe, buttoned once at the waist, revealing a white top underneath it. Willow thought it was beautifully elegant, the way the folds of the robe swished around her legs as she moved, and she melted at the cute way Tara's toed peeked out from beneath it when she stepped forward. Tara closed the door behind her, then looked at Willow properly for the first time. Despite her anxiety, Willow was pleased by the way Tara's eyes widened, a blush crept over her cheeks, and the hint of a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.

"I just- you know, first thing I grabbed," Willow said quickly, trying not to shiver. Half of her wanted to get under cover of the sheets as quickly as possible, the other half had noticed the way Tara's eyes had quickly run up the length of her body when she first saw Willow, and was in heaven at the thought of Tara seeing her like this. She compromised by sitting down on the edge of the bed, almost missing in her nervousness and ending up perched just barely on the edge of it, with one leg thrust out sideways to keep her balance. She saw Tara's eyes fix on her exposed thigh for a second, and her thoughts grew even more erratic.

"Um, th-there's more blankets," Tara said shyly, motioning towards the wardrobe in the corner, "I th-think it's going to be a cold night… I-I'll get some." She busied herself pulling folded blankets down off the high shelf within the wardrobe, giving Willow a few seconds to get control of herself and slip her legs beneath the sheets. When Tara came back, spreading several blankets out over the bed, Willow was sitting up against the headboard, looking calmer than she felt.

"Tara," she said, getting Tara's attention just as she had finished with the blankets. Tara sat on the edge of the bed next to her, smiling into her eyes. Willow noticed the way her hands fidgeted slightly in her lap, and was profoundly relieved that she wasn't the only one feeling nervous.

"Um, thanks for letting me stay," she said, "I really…I feel safe with you," she blurted out before she had a chance to reconsider. Tara smiled, and looked away for a moment.

"I-I'd do anything for you," she confessed. She looked back at Willow, just quickly at first, her eyes darting away again, then back, and holding her gaze longer. Willow felt a lump in her throat, and couldn't find the words to express what she felt.

"I'm so glad I met you," Willow whispered, wanting to say so much more, but not knowing how. Tara leaned over to her and kissed her, gently and perfectly. Her lips were open just a fraction, just enough to make it more than a simple kiss, but there was no need for any movement, or frenzied passion.

"M-me too," Tara said as she leant back a fraction. Willow felt the words breathed across her lips. Tara got back up and started to put out the candles around the room, while Willow wriggled down lower into the bed. Tara cast her a fond smile just before she blew out the last candle, and then the room was all shades of icy blue, from the moonlight filtering through the clouds outside.

Willow watched as Tara, a half-visible silhouette in the darkness, moved towards the window to close the shutters. She stopped half-way, though, and Willow wondered if it was her imagination, or if a glitter around Tara's eyes was her glancing again at her, and if the slight reflection on her lips was a smile. She took one more step, and Willow's eyes fixed on her as a shaft of moonlight from the window lit her, outlining the gentle folds of her robe. Seemingly oblivious to Willow's stare, Tara unbuttoned the robe and slipped it from her shoulders, letting it fall down her arms, and finally free of her hands so that it crumpled to the floor with a silken sigh. Willow gaped, glad of the shadows to conceal her reaction. The white top Tara was wearing was cut high, allowing Willow an unobstructed view of her waist and stomach, which she thought so smooth as to make the silk robe seem like coarse hessian. A pair of white briefs completed the outfit, and in the pale moonlight the edges of the fabric seemed only to accentuate the curve of her hips and bottom, which Willow, in a moment of unusual lewdness that almost made her giggle at herself, wanted to cup in her hands and squeeze. Tara reached for the levers that would pull the shutters closed, and suddenly Willow's attention wasn't on her rear at all, but the gap between her abdomen and the material of her top, which when she leant forward widened enough that Willow could see the slightest curve of the underside of her breasts, swaying gently as she moved. 'More lewd thoughts,' Willow commented silently to herself.

The shutters closed, and the room was plunged into near-total darkness. Willow was suddenly aware that she was breathing heavily, and willed herself to relax. She heard Tara's feet pad softly across the floor, then heard and felt the blankets pull back as she slipped into her side of the bed. Willow rolled onto her side and wriggled over slightly, until she felt the slight aura of warmth of Tara's body, and could feel by the way the blankets were held up that there was barely inches between them. She jumped slightly when she felt Tara's hand on her shoulder.

"I didn't hear you move your hand," she explained, earning a chuckle. "I can see just a little. Shapes, outlines…Outside it'd be enough to get by on, if the moon was behind clouds."

"Speaking of moonlight," Willow whispered, "just now, you looked so lovely…I'm sorry I can't see in the dark now." She imagined Tara's blush, and heard the hesitancy in her voice that confirmed it when she spoke again. She found it very enticing that Tara could be so shy and so bold at the same time.

"Th-thank you," Tara said. "I-I thought, maybe…i-if you weren't too, you know, upset by telling me what happened…maybe you'd appreciate a little distraction…"

"Oh, I do," Willow said, smiling and wondering if Tara could see it, "I'm…I never told anyone the whole story before. I feel better now. Um, it's not going to give you nightmares, is it?"

"Good," Willow said, "because I wouldn't want you having bad dreams because of me." She felt the distance between them close, then Tara's hair was brushing against her face, and her hand was cupping her cheek tenderly.

"I think I'll have good dreams because of you," she purred. "Do you feel better?"

"Turn over," Tara said gently. Willow complied, wondering what she had in mind, then sighed as she felt Tara shift herself closer, the length of her body warm against Willow's back. Tara's arm rested leisurely over her waist, holding her just firmly enough to be comfortable. Tara curled her legs beneath Willow's, and Willow breathed in as she felt every inch of her thighs, and her bottom and half her lower back, suddenly in direct physical contact with the most angelic woman she had ever known. She hadn't realized the robe she was wearing had ridden up as she had wriggled under the blankets, but now she was burningly aware that, from her waist down, she was just as scantily clad as Tara. She hoped Tara was as blissfully content as she was.

Tara stroked her fingers across Willow's stomach briefly, then leant a little closer to kiss the back of her neck.

"Mmm, you too," was all Willow could manage in reply. She felt the tension of the evening melt away, and let herself get lost in the warmth of Tara's embrace, and the darkness of sleep.

Willow woke slowly, for the first time since the destruction of the hospice. She opened one eye and was surprised to see the morning sun already lighting the slits in the shutters. She couldn't remember waking once during the night, and even in the troubled dreams she had grown accustomed to – imp-like demons jumping out of books at her, it had been this time – she vaguely recalled feeling detached from the jumbled images and sounds, as if she knew that it wasn't really happening. She could hazard a fair guess why – Tara was still lying against her, with one arm draped over her, holding her almost protectively.

Willow's other eye opened, and both eyebrows rose, as she noticed exactly where Tara was holding her. Some time during the night she must have shifted position, her hold had become tighter, and the hand that had been hovering about her waist had crept higher and was now cupping her right breast, through the material of her robe which felt thin as air at the moment. Willow's heart hammered in her chest, so hard that she wondered how Tara wasn't woken by it – it was right beneath her palm, after all. She wondered also how she could have woken up without instantly realizing how she was being held. Even if it was unconscious on Tara's part, Willow wanted to enjoy every second of it.

She smiled to herself, not wanting to disturb Tara's sleep – or make her move in any way, she admitted. She luxuriated for a while in the heat coming off Tara's hand, and indulged a few fantasies of the fingers lightly covering her breast closing and squeezing. She remembered how Tara's fingers had pressed into her thighs the day before, in the library, and her sleepy imagination showed her herself being molded by Tara's hands, like a sculpture in clay, with Tara leaving fingerprints embedded in her thighs, her back, her breasts, her bottom, her- Willow had to admit she wasn't quite ready to go there. No-one else had ever touched her there, and Willow knew she needed time to absorb the reality of their mutual attraction – she was almost sure enough to call it love – so that she wouldn't be a flighty bundle of nerves when the time came. 'Well, not all a bundle of nerves…nothing wrong with that in its proper place.' She grinned at herself, and then the humor in her smile was replaced by warm contentment, as she recalled the previous night, and how Tara had seemed to know what she needed. Physical contact, a feeling of safety, the freedom to be vulnerable, tenderness, and stimulation. The fleeting glimpse of Tara she had seen was a release, in a way, for she realized Tara had shown her not just herself, but a glimpse of things to come – she grinned again at the phrase – and though she was only now realizing it, the relaxed state she had achieved owed as much to Tara's teasing as it did to her softly-spoken words and gentle embrace. 'I know you want me,' Tara had been telling her, with her actions, 'and I want you too. Now you're tired and afraid, so you should wait, and I promise I'll wait with you.' Willow closed her eyes and sighed happily – she would have to thank Tara for understanding, and making sure their first time was perfect in every way. Briefly she imagined the feelings she had when she had sought release by herself – by way of experimentation, or to relieve the tension that sometimes grew in her – and her mind's eye began to substitute Tara's hand for her own, her palm cupping Willow's mound, her fingers gently circling her clit, or brushing through the folds of her sex- she shut the thought down before it got out of control. For now, she was content to feel Tara's body against hers, and look forward to the time when she would do more than imagine.

Tara stirred in her sleep, and mumbled to herself. Her hand flexed slightly, then closed again, as Tara unconsciously adjusted its position to get a better grip. Willow, still half-submerged in her own private musings, gasped in surprise and delight, and before she realized she was doing it her back was arched, pressing her breast into Tara's hand.

"Mmm," she heard Tara purr, just before her thumb inched inwards a fraction and snuck underneath her palm to stroke over Willow's nipple, which was straining against the fabric of her robe. Willow thus felt every tiny instant of Tara's touch as fully as possible, and the effort it took not to make a sound caused her to press her thighs tightly together and wriggle her hips. She felt a pleasurable shiver creep over her skin, and a distinct warmth grew between her legs – 'Gods, is there no stopping me?' she wondered – but despite keeping her mouth clamped shut, she sensed Tara's sleep fading. She held as still as she could, suddenly afraid to look as if she was enjoying Tara's touch too much – she had been asleep, Willow reasoned, maybe she'd be embarrassed.

"Mmmhey," Tara said in a voice thick with sleep, her lips tickling the nape of Willow's neck.

"I noticed," Willow said, stroking the back of Tara's hand. Tara froze solid for a second, then jerked her hand away and rolled onto her back. Willow quickly rolled over, tangling the blankets between them and ending up half on-top of Tara.

"I-I'm sorry," Tara said, her face turning red, "I-I d-didn't realize…I must've…wh-while I was asleep-"

"Tara," Willow said, getting her attention, "it's fine. It's more than fine! I promise you," she leant forward and brushed her lips lightly over Tara's, "you can touch me anywhere you want…"

Tara let out a slow breath, tickling Willow's lips, as her hands crept around her waist. Willow closed her eyes as Tara kissed her, reveling in the softness of her lips, the way she lifted her head off the pillows, pressing their mouths together, only to lie back a moment later, maintaining the most feather-light contact as her tongue teased Willow's lips. 'How does she do that?' Willow wondered to herself, letting her jaw open for Tara as she recaptured Willow's lips fully, 'how is she so shy and tentative that I want to hold her and kiss her forever, and then so bold that I can barely stop from ripping my clothes off for her?' She imagined just that, and moaned out loud into Tara's mouth, her hands busily wrenching away the tangled blankets between them.

She felt Tara's hands firm against her back – her naked back, she realized, her robe had ridden up so far that it covered only her chest and shoulders. She arched her back, feeling her stomach naked against Tara's, and her lips curled into a smile, still open a fraction to continue the ongoing kiss that she had no intention of ending prematurely. For a moment Tara's lips were still, and when Willow opened her eyes she saw Tara staring at her as if in wonder. Then she squealed in surprise and delight as Tara rose up beneath her, gathering Willow up with the strength that had surprised her yesterday and rolling her effortlessly onto her back. Willow's eyes widened as she took in her new position, lying beneath Tara, who straddled her hips on her knees as she leant down to kiss her fiercely, almost possessively.

'Ah, there's my bold Tara,' Willow thought gleefully, as Tara's kisses moved from her lips down to her neck, which she teased and tickled with her soft lips. Willow let out a sigh that became a high-pitched moan as she felt Tara's tongue press firmly against her skin, trailing all the way from her neck up to the pliant skin beneath her chin. Tara lifted herself up off Willow a fraction and stared into her eyes. Willow imagined what she must look like, wide-eyed, rapid breathing, flushed cheeks and wet lips.

"Anywhere?" Tara asked in a sultry whisper. Willow's breath caught in her throat. Was she suggesting…? She hadn't thought Tara would be so ambitious so soon, and she had to admit she was caught by surprise. But was the fact that she was surprised enough to warrant asking Tara to take it slowly, if she wanted to move things along a little faster? Willow knew the answer to that, and nodded once, quickly. Tara smiled and kissed her again, on the lips for a moment, then ducking down to one side to suck her earlobe, and run the tip of her tongue around the edge of her ear, making Willow shiver and whimper in delight. Tara pulled back again. Willow noticed with a start that she could feel Tara's breasts touching hers through their nightwear – she could only imagine what a luscious sight they would be, Tara's ample, perfect breasts hanging down as she held herself just high enough that they swayed slightly against Willow. She had to imagine, because she couldn't tear her eyes away from Tara's.

"Even…" Tara began, and trailed off, watching Willow's reaction. Willow tried to breath steadily, but it seemed she was rapidly losing control of her own body.

"Even…in front of the Baron and all his noblemen?" Tara asked. Willow's eyebrows collided in an expression of pure confusion.

"You did say 'anywhere'," Tara replied with a perfectly straight face. Willow stared at her for a second, her mind trying to regain a grip on things, then she abruptly burst out laughing. Tara joined her, alternately laughing and kissing Willow, until they had both regained some semblance of composure.

"You're a sly, cunning, vixen-y tease," Willow murmured, when they had finally calmed down, and Tara was resting on top of her, her face nestled into the side of Willow's neck.

"I can't help it," Tara said – she didn't bother moving back, so Willow felt her lips move against her skin – "you're so much fun to tease." Willow chuckled to herself. A small part of her regretted the pause in their passion, but she realized that it was for the best. She loved the feeling of abandoning her senses that she got when she and Tara kissed, but sooner or later they would reach a point where neither of them would be capable of restraining themselves, and Willow wanted that to be at a time when they both wholly wanted to go further. Apparently, she mused, Tara agreed. Lying here, relaxed, with Tara's body comfortingly resting on top of her, Willow felt closer to her than she ever had.

'I love her,' Willow thought. It wasn't a new realization, so much as confirmation, a decree that Willow now accepted, and set in stone in her mind. She loved Tara's kindness, her gentle nature, her fascination with the world and its ways, her boundless patience; she loved the way Tara understood her, without words, the way she was always exactly what Willow needed, whether it be a friendly ear, a shoulder to cry on, a joyful companion or a passionate woman with an inexhaustible hunger for Willow; she loved her spirit, which her tutors in the Zann Esu would have described as a healer's, someone who does what she can to make the people around her whole, for no reason other than that their happiness gives her a contentment that no selfish pursuit could encompass; and she loved the warrior that she knew lived in Tara, despite Tara's own doubts on the matter, the fierce heart that she kept so well in check, that only emerged in the heat of passion. Just the thought of the untamed, sexual hunger she held within her soul made Willow want nothing more than to give herself to Tara completely, to hold nothing back from her, deny her nothing.

"You're exactly as much of a warrior as I need," Willow replied. "You're kind, and sexy and-"

"I like your snoring, it's cute," Willow said, "will you give up? You're perfect because I say so."

"You don't have to say that," Tara said quietly, propping herself up on one elbow to look at Willow.

"Hey, come on," Willow said gently, "it's true. I'm not pretending you're some sort of supergirl, or something impossible…you're… if I'd ever had dreams this good, you're everything I'd have dreamed you'd be." Tara swallowed, and her eyes were suddenly glistening with tears.

"Oh Willow," she breathed, "I don't know what to say…I… no-one's ever said anything like that to me before." Willow carefully rolled Tara off of her, so that they ended up side by side, arms around each other's waists. She kissed the warm tears off Tara's cheeks, slightly worried to see her crying, but reassured by the brilliant smile on her lips.

"You already do," Tara admitted, "you always have." Now it was Willow's turn to feel her eyes filling with tears. She blinked them away and kissed Tara firmly on the lips, savoring the taste of her mouth. Tara responded, unhurried and without frenzy, but with a quiet passion that made Willow tremble. She imagined she could detect a faint taste of the fiery, lusty Tara, biding her time, waiting for her moment. When she finally let their lips part, after a momentary hesitation while Tara's mouth closed around Willow's lip and sucked it with agonizing sweetness, Willow hugged her tightly and kissed Tara's neck, then pressed her face against the warmth of Tara's skin and breathed the scent of her hair, spread across the pillow like golden silk.

"Hey, wait a minute," she said suddenly, "how come no-one ever said nice things to you?"

"Oh, no," Tara said, "I didn't mean it like that…just, no-one's ever cared for me and, and wanted me, the way you do, a-as much as you do. B-but plenty of people at home used to tell me I was kind, and gentle. And a few times, when we wore ceremonial dress, I overheard some of the, um, more forward girls making…appreciative comments, when they thought I couldn't hear them."

"Oh they did, did they?" Willow teased. "So, do I have to worry about some Amazon warrior back home who won't like me making a move on her girl?" She was joking, but a tiny part of Willow pleaded to be reassured that Tara was hers alone, that there wasn't some part of Tara she couldn't reach, and couldn't give herself to. Tara must have sensed it, because she leant back a fraction, enough to look Willow in the eye as her hand held her cheek, gently brushing her skin with her thumb.

"There's never been anyone but you," she said. "No-one else has ever touched me the way you have…a-and," her voice dropped to a whisper, "when we're ready…wh-when it's time…I-I don't want anyone but you to ever touch me the way you will."

Willow was utterly speechless. She honestly didn't know whether to be flattered, or aroused, or gratified, or what. All she could think of was 'I am in love'. She almost said it – in truth, the only thing that held her back was the irrational fear that, if she were to acknowledge this perfect dream, it would vanish and she'd wake up to find the world as it had been before Tara, before every moment, even those they spent apart, felt better because Tara existed. She recognized how ludicrous that fear was, and set her mind to dispelling it as promptly as she could. She knew she could – when she told Tara she loved her, it would be with all her heart, without even the tiniest trace of doubt or irrational anxiety. She would be perfect, for Tara. And, gods-dammit, she would be it soon.

"What about you?" Tara asked. "Any fellow sorceresses waiting for you to return?" She made no effort to hide her playful, teasing smile from Willow, who decided Tara shouldn't have a monopoly on teasing.

"Oh, I'm sure they'll get along without me," she said airily. "One less pair of hands in the big sorceress grope-fests, who'll notice?" Tara laughed out loud.

"You're the first," Willow admitted quietly, when Tara looked at her again. "I…I never felt this way until you." Tara suddenly couldn't meet her stare, her eyes darting away to glance at Willow's lips, and hair, and her own hand still stroking Willow's cheek.

"I h-hope I'm worthy of you," she said shyly. Willow covered Tara's hand with her own, and ducked a little, catching Tara's downcast eyes.

"You so are," she promised, "every minute…the way you make me feel, it isn't something you have to, to work for. It's a gift, that you give me." Tara smiled a little.

"You do," Willow assured her, "by being…you, by being Tara." Tara smiled, and her mouth opened as if she was trying to think of something to say, but couldn't.

"You say the sweetest things," she murmured eventually. Willow grinned and kissed her, just briefly. Tara sighed.

"Unfortunately," she went on, "being me means I have to get up. Amazon stuff to do…" Willow let out a heartfelt groan and let her head flop down onto the pillow.

"Do you want me to come with you?" Tara asked. "I-I could find some time, between meetings-"

"I'll be fine," Willow promised her. "You do your Amazon stuff, and I'll do my sorceress stuff, and we'll be back together at the dinner."

"As if I'd forget a date with you," Willow smiled. Tara kissed the tip of her nose, then reluctantly lifted the blankets on her side of the bed and got up. Willow's eyes followed her around the room as she picked up her long robe from the floor where she had dropped it, draped it over the back of a chair, and ran her fingers through her hair, straightening out a few tangles. In the strong morning sun peeking through the shutters, Willow took a good, long look at Tara, barely dressed in the sleepwear she had glimpsed the night before. At first, she was fascinated by Tara's legs – not too thin, not too muscled, with exactly the right kind of curves along her thighs and calves. Then Willow's eyes moved up to Tara's bottom, neatly clad in her briefs, which were skimpier than Willow had realized by moonlight. Willow's heart rate increased markedly as Tara bent over to peer at herself in the mirror, unconsciously displaying her rear to Willow in a most enticing manner. Willow imagined taking hold of her cheeks, squeezing them, lazily trailing her fingers down the cleft between them, dragging down the thin underwear…'Look at me,' she mused to herself, 'getting all turned on just by staring at a girl's butt. I'm turning into a man.' She noticed Tara's eyes, in the mirror, had settled on her.

"Well, you know," Willow said hastily, "I've got a whole day to get through. So, I was thinking, best to make sure I get a good look while I can."

"Aren't you worried you're going to be distracted all day?" Tara asked, mock-serious.

"Oh, okay then." Willow was surprised for a second at how easily Tara dropped the subject – she had been expecting another prolonged bout of teasing – but then Tara straightened up, turned around, and did a full-body stretch and yawn, closing her eyes and reaching her arms up above her head, almost touching the ceiling, then slowly reaching back behind herself with an innocent expression, as if she were doing nothing more than waking herself up after a good sleep. Willow's mouth went dry as Tara's top was first lifted up, revealing the bottom of her generous breasts, then drawn tight across her chest so the fabric stretched against her skin, with the peaks of her nipples clearly visible beneath it. 'Okay,' Willow thought, imagining even her thoughts to be speaking in a strained squeak, 'that confirms it, I'm a breast gal.'

Tara flashed her a quick, innocent smile, then crossed to the shutters and levered them open, letting the sunlight properly enter the room. Her skin took on a wonderfully healthy glow, and her hair blazed in the light like molten gold. With her back to Willow, she stretched again, this time pushing her palms into the small of her back as she arched her body. As the stretch made the muscles in her legs and backside grow taut, she hooked a finger from each hand into the waistband of her briefs and pulled them up, stretching the fabric as tight as it would go across her bottom. 'Still a breast gal,' Willow thought, barely able to keep her hand from creeping between her legs, 'but only just.'

"I love the morning sun," Tara purred, seemingly to herself. 'Alright,' Willow thought, 'two can play that game.' She kept an eye on Tara, making sure she didn't turn around while she was wriggling underneath the blankets, then she swung her legs off the side of the bed and stood up, smoothing her short black robe down.

"Um, can I put my panties in with your washing?" she asked innocently. "It's just, I was wearing them all day yesterday, a-and no-one will notice if I'm in just my long skirt when I go back to my room." Tara glanced at Willow over her shoulder, with more than a slight spark of interest in her eyes, and nodded towards the basket on the floor, containing her clothes to be cleaned in the castle's laundry. Tara's eyes slammed wide open and her jaw dropped when she saw Willow smile in thanks and casually toss her underwear into the basket.

Willow crossed the room and slipped past Tara, bathing in the golden morning light, and very much aware of Tara's wide eyes fixed on her. She began a full-body stretch, just like Tara had done, but curtailed it when she felt the hem of the robe lift up to the tops of her thighs. 'Chicken,' she thought, but on turning around and stepping around Tara, she saw she had achieved the desired effect – Tara's expression was one of pure shock, and her chest was rising and falling quite distractingly with her sudden rapid breathing.

"Um, I-I should go bathe," Tara said after a moment, "I-I'll make sure there's some water on the fire for you, if you want to go as well, a-after I'm done."

"Thanks," Willow said brightly, inwardly glowing at Tara's flustered reaction. She was caught completely by surprise when Tara's hand caught her around the waist, pulled her back a step, and spun her around into Tara's arms. Before she had even consciously realized what was happening her mouth had opened to let Tara kiss her, and she was feeling her body go weak as Tara's lips covered hers, and her tongue danced between them. Willow's knees actually gave up, and she let herself settle into Tara's embrace, trusting Tara to keep her from falling. All her attention was on the kiss when, to her shock and absolute delight, she felt Tara's thigh nudge between her legs. Willow's hips pressed forward of their own accord, and then, just as quickly as it had happened, she was being gently lowered to the bed, and Tara was smiling sweetly at her.

"Okay," Willow squeaked, as Tara pulled on her robe and slipped out, closing the door behind her. Willow slowly became aware of a familiar, overly-moist feeling between her legs. 'Damn' she thought, grinning ear to ear, 'she got me.'

Willow closed the door of her bedroom behind her and leant on it, calming herself. The short, and intentionally cold, bath she had had in the private room in the Amazon quarters had done little to soothe the warmth building up inside her. She had to admit that the experience of walking through the castle with no underwear hadn't helped – she knew she looked perfectly normal in her long skirt and tunic, but she kept imagining the sly smiles Tara had kept giving her as they had eaten breakfast. And the feel of Tara's arms around her as they hugged goodbye for the day. And the way Tara's fingers had kept brushing over the back of her neck when she had insisted she comb Willow's hair. And, she had to admit, everything about Tara.

She quickly crossed to her room's window and closed the shutters – unlike the rooms the Amazons had been given, Willow's quarters were level with the walkway on the castle's far wall, ten meters away, and she had no desire to have an inquisitive guard looking in at her just now. She pulled her tunic over her head and tossed it aside, then undid her belt and the cord in the waist of her skirt, letting both fall to the floor. One hand went instinctively towards her sex, but stopped, her fingers resting on her mound, a hair's breadth from their destination, as Willow caught sight of herself in the mirror over the dressing table. She wondered for a moment what happened to the studious, innocent-looking sorceress she had been just…'Gods,' she thought, 'just a few days ago. Five days. And now look at me just thinking of her.' From the mirror, an unrestrained, wanton version of herself stared back at her, eyes half-closed, mouth open, lips wet from running her tongue over them, pausing in the middle of taking in a deep breath, with her back arched and her breasts thrust proudly forward, one hand resting its fingers on the soft skin of her cleavage, her bra pulled down to reveal herself – she hadn't even realized she was doing that – the other hand reaching down, fingers amid the short red curls of hair, aimed with no uncertainty directly at her sex.

In her mind's eye, Tara was standing behind her, staring at her in the mirror, reaching around her body to touch where Willow's hands were. Willow closed her eyes and imagined it was Tara's hand that now moved to cover her breast, delicately brushing across her nipple then taking it between thumb and forefinger and squeezing lightly, twisting gently from side to side, teasing until the tiny peak was so hard it was maddening. She imagined Tara's hand now moving further down to cup her mound in her palm, her fingers passing by on either side of her clit to rest on the warm, wet folds of her sex. With a shuddering breath she gently drew her fingers up between her lips, one by one, just her fingertips teasing the entrance to herself, then rising up towards the bundle of nerves which was screaming for attention as she steadfastly avoided it. Willow knew that, in her current state, it wouldn't take her long to achieve release, but seeing as her responsibilities didn't allow her to stay in her bedroom all day, she decided it was for the best, and resolved to make her short bout of self-indulgence a memorable one.

Her intentions were overruled by her body's demands, though, when for no reason she was quite aware of the image of Tara, naked, flashed across her mind, and she imagined herself licking and sucking the nipples she had only seen as glimpses beneath thin clothing. That simple thought made her open her eyes, just for a moment to orient herself, then take two steps and collapse onto her bed, rolling onto her back with her left hand squeezing one breast and then the other, and her right trapped between her thighs, which she clenched together with all the strength she could muster. She reveled in the somehow delightful sensation of her thighs pressing against each other, as her fingers, trapped as they were, wriggled in an attempt to satisfy her. She managed to maneuver the tip of a finger in between her lips, inside herself, then without conscious thought she somehow managed to bend her thumb underneath her palm to press on her clit, rubbing hard and fast. Her legs jolted, parted, her finger plunged into her wet sex as deep as it could, and she thrashed her head to one side and bit her pillow to keep from screaming Tara's name aloud.

She lay still for a moment, breathing in heavy gasps and keeping her hands still. 'I think I set some sort of speed record,' she thought with a grin, which made her laugh a little until she managed to catch her breath and extract her hand from between her legs. She slowly sat up and looked down at herself – the traces of wetness on her inner thighs, the slowly fading marks where her fingers had pressed into her breasts. She had to laugh when she noticed she still had her boots on. 'Just as well I didn't have underwear on,' she mused as she stood up gingerly and crossed to the basin to clean herself up. It was, she decided, going to be a long day.

Willow found herself – fully clothed – again in the Baron's study, glancing between the Baron, who was just putting down a thick volume he had been reading, and his advisor, who was as always deep in the middle of writing something.

"Traditions of the Vizjerei," the Baron explained, closing the book and leaving it on the side of his desk. "Seeing as I will be judge at Hydris's trial, I should know how his clan would handle such a matter, and what affect their ways may have on our local laws. No matter. The, um, steps you advised in your note yesterday have been undertaken, the materials destroyed as per your instructions, and the books you selected sealed in the vault beneath the castle. Now, if you please, what did you discover?" Willow took a deep breath and began.

"The mage was conducting a demonic ritual. My opinion is that he intended to summon a demon, but I should advise you that not all elements of the ritual were entirely familiar, from the texts I've read, so it's possible I'm mistaken on that. I'm sure that he intended to make contact of some sort with a demon, and I think it's very likely he was disturbed before he managed to do so."

"I see," the Baron said gravely, "well, we can be thankful for that. Would this ritual have affected Hydris in any way? Made him more prone to violent acts, such as the attack on the maid?"

"Possibly," Willow allowed, "but I have to emphasize that, in my opinion, he prepared the ritual in full knowledge of what he was doing. If he was unusually violent when he was disturbed, it was an effect of the ritual, not the cause of it."

"Yes, I understand. I'm told he has shown no signs of remorse since I last saw him, when he was quite uncommunicative. I don't doubt your judgment, Miss Willow, I merely ask to be thorough. I suppose that confirms most of what we suspected already – we suffered during the Reckoning, and it is still the case that when someone here thinks of 'black magic', demons come instantly to mind. My father held the throne then, until he fell in battle against the creatures laying siege to us. I hoped when it was over, and word came that the Reckoning had been won, that we had seen the last of their kind. Tell me, if you have discovered it – what demon was it that Hydris sought to bring here? There are several that are known to us, the leaders of the armies that fought us then."

"Hrm," the Baron grunted, "not one of those that were banished from here. Do you have any idea why he would choose that particular demon?" Willow hesitated, then sighed and nodded.

"Shadai was summoned several months ago, in Entsteig," she explained. "I was there. I had a…a small part in banishing it. If it's just…coincidence that this happened now, while I'm here, then I can't think of any other reason why it would be this demon. It's not one that is easily summoned, a-and the texts that speak of it, um, wouldn't be tempting to a summoner."

"That's one way of saying it, sir," she agreed. "During the Sin War, the Horadrim texts say that Shadai was a captain in the armies of Mephisto, the Lord of Hatred. She rebelled – apparently thought he was weak – a-and led her army north into Scosglen. She…she killed everything, the texts say. Not just people, but animals, plants, even the earth, she made the ground sick, a-and it took generations for anything to grow again there. When the ancestors of the Horadrim finally banished her, there was nothing left. The only people who live there now are settlers who came centuries later, from the tribes to the west of there."

"No," said Willow, "no-one knows why. Um, some of the texts say that the Prime Evils never forgave Shadai for rebelling against Mephisto. I-it's possible they refused to summon her when they brought their armies here."

"That's telling in itself," the Baron mused, "they brought every other kind of abomination to plague us, no matter how foul or murderous."

"Yes sir," Willow said, grateful she had been just a child at the time, and it had all happened far away. The Baron looked glum, then stood and bowed to Willow.

"Well, I thank you for your help," he said, "you have been invaluable in this difficult time. I shall make sure your Order is aware of the service you have rendered."

"And I'll see you at the dinner tonight? If, er, you and the Lady Tara wish to attend together," he said, seeming suddenly a little hesitant in his words, "I'll see that you're seated next to each other."

"Th-that's most kind of you," Willow said, smiling. She had noticed the Baron being quite generous in his treatment of her and Tara, when it must be obvious to him that they were, well, intimate. She wouldn't have expected it of a western nobleman, where attitudes were fairly archaic, but she wasn't about to question good fortune.

"Good, good," the Baron said distractedly, resuming his seat and opening the book of Vizjerei customs again. Willow bowed and left, silently agreeing with him – it was indeed very good.

After Willow left the Amazon quarters, Tara changed into her armor, gave her family circlet a quick polish before putting it on, then made her way down to the small dining hall on the ground floor that had been given to the Amazons for use as a meeting room. Tryptin was already there, busy as always with a handful of letters and carrying on a conversation with a minor dignitary in extravagant purple robes. He nodded to Tara when he saw her, concluded his business with the other man, and crossed the room to her, pausing to offer a word or two of advice to the various emissaries who were seated at the hall's long tables, discussing business or politics with visitors from the surrounding towns.

"There's been a slight change of plans," he said after exchanging good mornings with her. "We'll be leaving here in three days, rather than five. A rider arrived last night carrying news from the port, and announcing another caravan is on its way. Some merchants, but mainly a party of ambassadors from Duncraig returning home – they hadn't expected to arrive back for another week, but apparently their ship made good time crossing the Great Ocean."

"Yes, so it seems," Tryptin said, "their planned route is a little out of our way, further into the highlands away from the river to visit settlements, but it's worth the delay for the safety of a larger caravan. Some of the merchants coming down-river to Kingsport have been spreading rumors of bandit activity on the north roads – hard to tell how well-founded the rumors are, of course, but between our guards and the Duncraig caravan we'll have over thirty soldiers, which should deter any brigands we run across. They're arriving tomorrow morning, I think it would be beneficial if you were on hand to greet them with me. We hadn't planned to meet any of these people, but if they're of high standing in the Duncraig court as the messenger says, it will be useful to travel with them. Perhaps we'll have some of our work finished by the time we reach the city."

"Good, thank you. Oh, also," Tryptin went on, "is Miss Willow going to be staying with you in future?"

"Oh," Tara said, "I-I'm not sure. I think…maybe, I'll ask her." She couldn't think of any reason why Willow wouldn't want to, but she didn't want to make decisions for her, especially when both of them were still adjusting to their relationship. Tryptin nodded understandingly.

"Th-thank you," Tara said, "I-I'll ask her as soon as I see her. I-I think she probably will…"

"I wouldn't be surprised," Tryptin observed idly. At Tara's curious look, he elaborated: "I'm trained to notice things like this. Body language, expressions…believe me, if you want to get through a negotiation, the last thing you do is wait for people to tell you what they're thinking. Besides," he added with a grin, "the way you look at her, and she at you – I've seen that before."

"There's a young woman waiting at home who looks at me like that," Tryptin explained with a smile. "I know what it feels like. It changes a person…for the better, I'm sure." He shrugged. "Let me know if there's anything I can do to make her feel welcome among us."

"I-I will," Tara promised, "thank you. Y-you've been very kind already." Tryptin gave her a modest look.

"You've looked very happy since you two met," he said, "it's a comfort to have helped." They stood in companionable silence for a moment, Tara thoughtful and smiling shyly, Tryptin glancing around the room, seeming to absorb the murmur of the dozen or so conversations that were going on around them.

"Well, the delegation from Karlsband will be here soon," Tryptin said finally, "they're a few minutes late for some reason. There are some matters of policy we'll have to discuss which could take the morning. I'll need you there, though I'm afraid there won't be much for you to do. Perhaps you'd like to get something to eat before they arrive? I'll send for you when they do."

"Of course," Tara nodded. Tryptin smiled, took another glance around at the various meetings in progress, then went into one of the private meeting rooms adjacent to the hall, signaling for a servant to follow him. Tara picked a piece of bread and some cheese from one of the platters on the tables, and took a seat at the side of the hall.

Unsurprisingly, her thoughts kept returning to Willow. For a moment she smiled in recollection of Willow's daring teasing before breakfast – the image of her wearing Tara's short black robe and nothing else wasn't one she'd forget in a long while. Indeed, it had been quite an effort for Tara to calm herself down, even after Willow had returned to her own room. Of course, that was hardly Willow's fault – she remembered her own behavior, mercilessly teasing Willow as they lay together in bed, and afterwards flaunting herself for Willow, feeling just as warmed by the lusty gaze she had received as by the morning sun streaming through the window. She smiled at herself, at the notion of shy, quiet Tara displaying herself so obviously, deliberately choosing her lightest sleepwear, standing in front of Willow with full knowledge of how the curves of her body were being revealed – and instead of feeling embarrassed, she had been aroused by it. At one point, just before Willow had trumped her by stretching right in front of her with nothing but a short robe covering her, she had been imagining what it would be like to be naked in front of Willow, to have Willow's gaze travel all over her, her breasts, her nipples, between her legs… when Willow had stunned her, it had been those thoughts, still caught up in her fantasy, that had led her to return the favor, to grab her and kiss her, and then when she felt Willow relax, to slip her thigh between Willow's legs. The moment when Willow had thrust forward had been almost more than she could stand, when for a moment she felt the heat between Willow's thighs on her own – actually on her skin, with nothing between them! Just the memory of it- 'Stop it,' she insisted to herself, 'you're in a public place and you're about to sit in on a long session of negotiations, this is not the time to indulge in lurid recollections.'

She grinned at herself and took another bite of bread, crossing her legs to assuage, in a tiny way, the tingling between them. She thought for a moment about Tryptin's news, of the new caravan. Presumably it would keep the emissaries and Tryptin's people busy for the duration of the journey, and she guessed they might make good progress if the Duncraig ambassadors didn't have anything else much to occupy them along the way. That would leave her and Willow to their own devices most of the time – 'Goddess, you just don't stop, do you?' she thought. She wondered if their departure two days earlier than expected would affect Willow at all – perhaps, had she been studying as planned, but with Hydris imprisoned and in no condition to teach anything, she guessed it wouldn't be a problem. Two weeks or more, alone with Willow in a none-too-spacious wagon, sounded like heaven to Tara.

Of course, that was still a little while away. According to Tryptin they wouldn't be leaving for three days – she hadn't thought to ask whether the combined caravan would set out in the morning or afternoon, but she guessed morning, to get a full day's travel in before they had to stop for nightfall. Three days, at least one of which would be taken up with Hydris's trial – she frowned at the thought. There was the thief Josef, as well, Tara would have to attend his trial, although she imagined it would go fairly quickly. She wasn't looking forward to that – the memory of staring at the bolt in her hand, and slowly realizing it had been fired at her, was not one she had yet quite come to terms with. But it was necessary, both to demonstrate to the Baron that she, and by extension the Amazon nation, approved of his handling of the event, and to conform with the Amazon custom that a warrior would always face her enemy if given the chance. Tara decided that, her trepidation aside, it would be good for her to look into the face of the man who had tried to kill her – she imagined it might make the whole business more solid in her mind, less ethereal, and so she wouldn't be forever looking over her shoulder, worrying whether she was being watched by some nebulous stalker. She sighed, and resigned herself to it.

A happier thought entirely was the evening's dinner. Tara hoped she wouldn't be seated far from Willow, and wondered how much time they would be able to spend together during the evening, whether there would be dancing, what Willow might wear. Her Zann Esu battlegear would surely suffice to make her the center of attention, but Tara had a sneaking suspicion that Willow would surprise her, and couldn't wait to see how. Tara herself, of course, would be in her warrior gear again, though she thought it would be sufficient to wear her greaves and bracers, and leave her shoulder plates packed in her bedroom – they weren't the most comfortable things to wear, and the court had already got a good look at her in all her Amazon regalia, and she flattered herself that they wouldn't have forgotten it just yet. At least, the way Willow had praised her appearance…Tara couldn't stop herself from grinning again…and anyway, armored women were a rarity in Westmarch.

She wondered how she would approach the topic of Willow's sleeping arrangements. Waking up next to her – even with her momentary fit of shyness at discovering she had groped Willow in her sleep – had been one of the most pleasant experiences of Tara's life, and one she was keen to repeat. 'Indefinitely,' she admitted to herself – that would be a conversation for another day, though. For now, she pondered what might be the best approach. She was sure Willow wouldn't object, but she didn't want to appear too demanding, or conversely too hesitant. She had a sudden image of herself blurting out 'Would you sleep with me tonight?' to Willow, and then having to explain that she actually meant sleep, as opposed to…not sleep.

That thought, too, was daunting. When would she be ready to sleep with Willow? No, no euphemisms – have sex…make love? She had no doubt it would be the latter, she couldn't imagine it being any other way. But she wondered whether the nervousness she felt would ever subside, or if it was just something she would have to overcome. At the same time as she was discovering the sheer power of her attraction to Willow, she was finding a new side to herself, a Tara who reveled in being sensual, in being sexual. It was something she had never really experienced before. She knew about sex, of course – Amazon children who were coming of age were taught enough to ensure they would approach adulthood wisely, or at least as wisely as adolescents ever would. And once the girls reached puberty, the late-night gossiping in the clan halls turned to matters of sex as often as not, and as they grew older the shared stories became more fact than fiction. Tara was fairly confident she knew how it all worked – well, she certainly knew how her own body worked – but until know the knowledge had been on an intellectual level. She had thought about the various activities that had been discussed in hushed voices among the trainee girls, been quietly excited by some of them, even fantasized when she had taken advantage of the privacy of her bedroom to explore herself. Even then, though, the fleeting images that had passed through her mind had been curiously vague – thoughts simply of being kissed, being touched, rather than any notion of a particular person kissing or touching her.

She had never before truly considered herself as a sexual being, even when she had brought herself to orgasm. She had enjoyed the sensations, but comparing the idea of touching herself with the idea of Willow touching her, even if in exactly the same way – it was something else entirely. This Tara who felt Willow's eyes on her, and wanted to feel more, this Tara who teased, and aroused, and was proud of being able to drive Willow to distraction, to the point where their mutual attraction boiled over and they both got a little lost in their desire – after a lifetime of being pensive and unassuming, it was something of a shock for Tara to find she was capable of such hedonistic abandon. Or, as her fellow trainees would say, 'a wild one in the sack'. Tara allowed herself a wicked grin. Who would have thought? Then again, she had a vague memory of someone once advancing the opinion that 'it's always the quiet ones'. Perhaps there was something in that.

She finished her snack and leant back in her seat, folding her arms while she waited. She wondered how much free rein to give that side of herself. She was glad that side of herself was there, and was present in Willow as well, to judge by the way she delighted in returning Tara's sensual teasing, but common sense had to have its place if they were to consummate their love the way Tara wanted to – perfectly. Perhaps that was over-ambitious, but Tara's instructors had always told her to set her goals high. 'Aim for the top,' Solari had been fond of saying, 'even if you fall a bit short, you'll be surprised how high you get.' This probably wasn't what her weapons instructor had had in mind, but Tara thought it sound advice. And if she and Willow gave in to their passions without a second thought, then perhaps it would be too soon, or too rushed, or one or both of them would still be too tentative, and wind up somehow unsatisfied. Tara wasn't worried that their relationship might be soured by the experience – she knew herself better than that, and she was convinced she knew Willow well enough to believe likewise – but their first time…the first time she made love to Willow…the first time would only happen once, and Tara wanted to be able to look back on it with nothing but joy.

Doubtless she would get the opportunity to discuss it with Willow. She sensed Willow felt the same way, that she wanted to spend some time at least getting familiar with the intimacy between them, so there was no great rush to establish ground rules. Sometime in the next couple of days, Tara mused, when Willow seemed receptive to such an intimate conversation, she would do her best to tell Willow what she was feeling, and why. That would be best – then there would be no doubts or misunderstandings between them, and they would be able to work out when they were ready, together, and enjoy both the growth of their love and the prospect of its consummation in the not-too-distant future without any anxiety, or trying to guess what the other was thinking.

That just left asking Willow to stay with her. Tara decided that, surely, she would have a moment alone with Willow to ask her during the evening. She had managed it once already, of course, but Willow had been tired and upset, and if Tara had felt nothing but chaste friendship for her she still wouldn't have let her go, to sleep alone in an empty room. Tara didn't delude herself that Willow was entirely free of the after-effects of her experience with the demon, or the sudden shock of finding traces of it in the mage's ritual, but she was at least dealing with it in her own time, finding what peace she could and rebuilding her dreams, rather than letting the nightmares take hold. Tara suspected it was a process that had begun long before they met – probably with Ember, who Tara felt indebted to for her kindness towards Willow – but it was a process still in motion, and one Tara committed herself to helping. Still, Willow today was not the shocked, anxious Willow of last night, and asking her to share Tara's bed was a different matter. Of course it was something Tara wanted, something she was sure Willow wanted, but that didn't account for the emotion involved – it was like saying that she wanted to make love to Willow. It was the simple truth, but the idea of it still sent her pulse racing.

'We'll see,' Tara promised herself, 'if worst comes to worst, just blurt it out and deal with blushing furiously for the rest of the night.' One thing was for sure: Tara would not let anything stand between her and once more waking up with Willow cradled in her arms.

Tara checked herself in the mirror one last time before walking out into the common room, where the most prominent of the emissaries and negotiators were gathering. She had left her hair down after drying it, liking the way her treatment had given it a slight waviness that she thought was much more appealing than its usual straightness. Leaving her hair untied wouldn't be practical for a warrior, but the evening was purely a social gathering, and as she had already been presented to the court as Tara, Amazon warrior, she decided to indulge herself and appear a little more…well, feminine. Not that her ceremonial dress and look was in any way un-feminine, but she acknowledged that there was quite a difference between that proud, aggressive image and the quiet elegance she was hoping to achieve tonight. If it weren't for Willow, of course, she doubted she'd have even given so much thought to her appearance.

Tryptin glanced at her, nodded amiably in approval, and motioned towards Melcan. Being an apprentice he was not strictly included in the party to attend the Baron's dinner, but Tryptin had suggested he come along as Tara's attendant, which would have the dual benefit of relieving Tara of the responsibility of handling a court dinner and her spear at the same time, and giving the boy a chance to observe his elders, while no-one would really be paying attention to him. Tara handed him Silverstrike, then fell in behind Tryptin as he and the other half-dozen Amazons left the common room and headed for the keep, where the dinner was being held in one of the smaller dining halls.

The room was brightly lit by torches along the walls, spaced between banners and tapestries, and already full of the murmur of conversation when they arrived. The sound stilled somewhat, and the Baron rose from his chair to greet the Amazons, but Tara's eyes were instantly drawn to Willow, two seats along the table from him. She, and the rest of the diners, rose a fraction after the Baron, and Tara saw Willow's eyes quickly scan the faces of the Amazons before finding and settling on her. Willow smiled joyfully, and nodded discreetly to the chair beside her, which was empty – 'For me?' Tara hoped. She smiled in return, and found her gaze lingering on Willow while Tryptin accepted the Baron's welcome.

Willow had tied her hair back, knotted in a translucent silver scarf that made her scarlet hair only more striking, but she had left a few strands loose on either side of her brow, framing her face. Her dress was emerald green, like her battlegear, but more traditional in style. Staring at her from across the table as she stood, Tara could see the top of a long, flowing skirt composed of many layers of thin fabric, the outer folds of which seemed almost to float around her as she moved – Tara thought it must be light as air, and wondered what it would feel like to wear. 'Or touch.' Willow's middle was clad in a tight wrap of matching fabric that clung to the curves of her waist, and from that came a silky-smooth top that cupped her breasts, leaving a teardrop-shaped gap that revealed her cleavage before it wove into straps that were looped around the back of her neck, leaving her shoulders bare.

Tryptin took care of the formal greetings, though Tara noticed the Baron favor her with a nod, which she returned, and then the Amazons were shown to their seats. Tara was delighted to find herself shown to the empty chair beside Willow, which Melcan held out for her before taking his place at the end of the table, out of everyone's way. Tara smiled politely at the Baron's advisor, seated on her other side, before turning her attention entirely to Willow.

"You look lovely," Willow murmured as the conversations around them resumed. Tara felt herself blush faintly, and smiled.

"Th-thank you," she said, "so do you. I-I thought you'd come up with something to surprise me."

"Oh, I have," Willow promised with a mysterious smirk. Tara's eyes widened, but Willow seemed in no hurry to elaborate.

"So, is this traditional sorceress battlegear as well?" Tara asked. "Because if it is, y-you're easily the most elegant order ever." Willow chuckled.

"No, it's something I bought while I was in Entsteig," she said after taking a sip of wine. Tara noticed she didn't frown at all when she mentioned the place, and was pleased to see that her nerves weren't so frayed as they had been the previous night. "I used to wear full robes a lot," Willow explained, "'cause it's kind of cold up there, and one weekend when I was out in the city with the other girls – we always used to spend our free days around the Gotunberg markets – Saria dared me to buy this. 'Cause, you know, she figured I wouldn't, being all serious-minded as I was. So I did, just to see the look on her face."

"Yeah, well," Willow grinned, "I never actually wore it until now. Down here everything I've got looks kind of exotic, I guess, but in Entsteig they're pretty reserved, a-and this would be considered, well, more revealing than a good young woman should be." Tara smiled, noticing the tiniest hint of a blush on Willow's cheeks, and leaned closer to her.

"It's not the most revealing thing you've worn today," she whispered, then leaned back and assumed her most innocent expression as Willow shot her a scandalized look.

With all the guests present the Baron signaled for the servants, who moved along the length of the table laying out plates, then bowls of a rather tasty vegetable soup that stirred Tara's appetite.

"Tryptin told me this morning," Tara said, "we'll be going north together. Y-you're staying with us?" she added.

"Of course," Willow reassured her, "besides, there's no reason for me to stay here any longer. I'll be with you all the way."

"We'll see whether you still think my snoring is cute by the time we get to Duncraig," Tara joked quietly, so only Willow could hear.

"Well, they say the cure for snoring is to roll the person onto their side," Willow observed playfully.

"I know," Willow answered. Tara wasn't sure exactly what Willow meant by that, but she got the general idea well enough from the inviting glance Willow gave her.

"Um, speaking of sleeping arrangements," she said softly, wanting to get it out of the way, "I was thinking, i-if you'd like of course, maybe you'd stay, um, in the Amazon quarters while we're here? Um, with me, I-I mean." She felt her shyness reasserting itself, but risked a glance at Willow, and saw a lovely smile dawning on her face.

"I'd love to," Willow answered, keeping her voice down, "I was hoping I could…"

"Of course," Tara said instantly, "o-of course, I-I'd love you to as well." They shared a smile for a long moment, Willow gazing openly at Tara, Tara wishing they were alone so she could embrace Willow in a tight hug, just to be as close to her as possible.

"Lady Tara?" A voice broke her out of her reverie. She turned to see Stefan, the archer, across the table two seats down.

"No, of course," Tara said quickly, wondering just how long she and Willow had been wrapped up in each other's gaze. "Um, this is Willow, she's a sorceress, we're traveling together."

"Yes, I remember your entrance the other night," Stefan said with a grin that would have been presumptuous had he been twenty years younger. As it was, Willow blushed and Tara had to stifle a giggle.

"Willow, this is Stefan," she introduced him, "h-he's the castle's best archer, we met before the hunt."

"Second-best until you leave, I fear," Stefan said after exchanging polite greetings with Willow, "but if it's not too much trouble, I really would appreciate the contest I mentioned that day. My reputation may take a slight beating, but it'll be a story to tell my grandson in a couple of years."

"We haven't recruited any new guards recently," Stefan said, "so my training duties are light at the moment. But if it's not an imposition on your time, tomorrow afternoon would be a good opportunity. There's a regular meeting in Maresburg, the town nearest the castle, mostly for the local sportsmen and guards of course, but I attend more often than not – as a spectator, usually, to judge the talent of the competitors. I think the townsfolk would think it a memorable occasion to see an Amazon archer."

"I-I'm fairly sure I'm free then," Tara said, "if you'll excuse me a moment…Tryptin?"

"We can spare you for the afternoon," he said before returning to a discussion he was having with the master-at-arms. He was sitting next to Stefan, but Tara hadn't even noticed him paying any attention to the conversation. 'Then again,' she thought, 'he's the head of the mission. Keeping an eye and an ear on everything is part of his job.'

"What kind of contest?" Willow asked, when the Baron turned away to call for the main course. "Well, archery obviously," she answered herself before Tara could, "but, I mean, just target practice?"

"I don't know," Tara admitted, "probably something like that." She grinned. "I-I've heard that at contests like this, it's customary for the competitors to ask for the favor of a beautiful lady beforehand." She looked at Willow shyly.

"I've heard that too," Willow said softly, leaning close to Tara, "the ladies choose warriors to compete for them. Want to be my warrior?" she whispered. Tara nodded and turned to face Willow fully.

"Oh yes," Willow breathed, "I certainly will." Tara felt the urge to kiss Willow, and had to ignore it – 'Just for now,' she promised herself. She wondered how exactly they had gone from idly chatter to teasing to something very intimate and special, all in the space of a few words. It seemed she couldn't be around Willow without feeling elated. 'Tryptin was right,' she mused, 'love changes you.' Then again, she wondered if what she was feeling was in fact who she had always been, deep down. She felt freer than ever before.

A moment later she felt Willow's toes stroking the back of her ankle. She had worn light sandals, rather than the full-height boots to go with her greaves – they weren't necessary except as protection – so while the front of her calves were covered in bronze, the backs were bare, apart from the leather straps holding the armor in place. Checking that no-one was paying her very much attention, she leaned back and stole a quick glance beneath the table. One of Willow's short boots lay empty, and she was deliberately stroking Tara's lower leg with her naked foot, all the while appearing to be smiling amiably at her, as if nothing at all was going on. Tara stared at her, eyes wide – Willow merely raised an eyebrow, then glanced away and appeared to take an interest in a discussion on her other side, between the head of Kingsport's merchant guild, sitting beside the Baron, and Jasken, the gemstone dealer from the caravan, opposite him. Willow turned slightly in her seat, apparently to face the men she was listening to, but in doing so she allowed herself a greater freedom of movement with her leg. She pressed her foot against the back of Tara's calf, and slid it slowly all the way up to the straps at her knee.

Tara gulped a breath of air and did her best to look entirely relaxed. She fixed her eyes on her food – someone had evidently mentioned her preferences to the servants, so that instead of the roast she had been given a plate full of vegetables in a delicious cream sauce. She was just working her way through the potatoes – crispy, with a spicy bite to them, which led her to think that the Baron didn't employ his cooks exclusively for their talent with meat – when an idea occurred to her.

She stretched out her leg underneath the table, giving Willow unrestricted access to her leg. She thought she caught the faintest trace of a grin on Willow's face, but it was well-hidden. Willow shifted again in her seat, however, to curl her leg upwards, her toes stroking the underside of Tara's outstretched thigh. 'Flexible,' Tara thought with a wicked grin, hastily replaced by an expression of bland interest in the dinner conversation around her. That put Willow in exactly the position Tara wanted, but she held off on her plan for a few minutes, enjoying the feel of Willow's covert attentions, and periodically glancing around to make sure that none of the other diners had any idea what was going on. Truly, they were safe enough – the table was big and solid, and everyone's chairs were pulled up close to it, so that most of the action was taking place beneath four inches of wood. Tara reassured herself that she could only see Willow's interesting position because she was right next to her, able to lean back and look in the gap between their chairs.

'Right then,' she thought mischievously. Next time Willow caressed her down to the knee, Tara abruptly bent her leg, trapping Willow's foot between her calf and thigh. Willow jumped slightly, not enough for anyone to notice, but resisted the urge she must have felt to turn back towards Tara. Tara took another bite of her dinner, dabbed her lips delicate with her napkin, and on returning it to her lap left her hand beneath the table, while she took her glass in the other and sipped her wine. She reached out with a single finger, and gently tickled Willow's ankle. She noticed a certain rigid set to Willow's jaw that hadn't been there previously, but all in all, she thought, Willow was holding up remarkably well. She slowly trailed her finger along the back of Willow's calf – she couldn't quite reach her knee without bending down, which would have been too obvious, so instead she shifted a little closer to Willow and transferred her touch to Willow's thigh, dragging her fingertip back and forth in the gap where the slit of her skirt had pulled open.

Willow finally turned to give her a sidelong look, and Tara contrived to look as guileless as possible. Willow wiggled her foot a little, but Tara held her firmly in place, so she leaned over to Tara, her expression one of resolute innocence.

"Good," Tara said with a quick grin. Willow smiled, probably a little more sexily than she had intended to, and sat up straight again, as Tara continued to stroke her leg, alternative between her ankle and thigh. Tara cast her covert glances as she made her way through her dinner one-handed, noticing the enticing way her chest moved as her breathing became a little faster and deeper. From where Tara was sitting, Willow's dress offered a fantastic view of her cleavage. After a few minutes Willow leaned back to her.

"My leg's getting tired," she admitted. Tara relaxed her leg and let Willow go, earning a grateful smile from her. Willow let her foot fall back to the floor, and sneakily wiggled back into her boot, then gave Tara a look that had more than a hint of suggestion in it. Tara frowned slightly, confused, and Willow dropped her eyes for a moment, looking down between them. She resumed her nonchalant behavior, paying attention to whoever around them was talking, as Tara discreetly glanced down, and saw that Willow had managed to pull her skirt up a little way, so that the top of the skirt was bunched around her waist on Tara's side, and the slit ran all the way up to her hip. Tara leaned over towards Willow, reaching her fork across the table to skewer another potato from one of the platters, while beneath the table she took a handful of Willow's thigh, right up where it met her hip, and gave her a playful squeeze. Willow squirmed slightly in her seat, pushing herself into Tara's hand.

"Miss Willow, if I may?" came a voice from down the table. 'Damn,' Tara thought wholeheartedly, sitting back and letting Willow answer without being distracted. The speaker was a middle-aged man with a thin gray moustache. Tara had vaguely noticed him before, when the Amazons had arrived – he had stood with the help of a cane, and his clothes were finely tailored.

"I understand your order of mages values purity above all else?" he asked Willow.

"That's right," she said. "We use only elemental magic, which can't be influenced the way other magics can."

"Quite," said the man, "but surely there is more to it than just a particular brand of magic? Or are your elemental sorceresses incapable of evil?"

"No, of course not," Willow explained, "the purity of the magic is that it's free of influence, of any kind of influence, good or evil. That way, a sorceress can't be manipulated by outside forces. But, of course, it means we're entirely responsible for how we conduct ourselves."

"Of course," the man said with a friendly smile. "But can't the same be said of other orders? Surely one would not contemplate, for example, that a paladin of Zakarum could be made to do evil by his devotion to his faith?" Tara frowned, noticing something irritatingly persistent about the way the man was questioning Willow.

"I-it's not that simple," Willow protested, "the Zakarum worship a power of light, but they're only human. It's possible for another force, a demon for instance, to use that worship to corrupt them, if it can trick them into believing that it's an angel. The paladins call them 'false lights', they spend a lot of time training to recognize them, a-and resist them."

"But they're only human," the man repeated, nodding. "Yes, I understand. Tell me, have any of your order ever become corrupted?" The conversations along the length of the table were falling silent, leaving all attention on Willow and the man. She took a moment to think about her answer.

"Corrupted, no," she said. "No, in our histories, and those of the Horadrim, there are no records of any sorceresses who have ever served demons."

"Of course not," the man said quickly, "but there are other forms of corruption, aren't there? It's not uncommon that people, quite without the aid of magic, can become corrupted by power, or privilege. Or immoral behavior, even." The silence around the table had become tense, and Tara suddenly wished the man would shut up and leave Willow alone.

"Humans aren't perfect," Willow said, with an edge to her voice, "but we do our best to devote ourselves to serving the forces of good, a-and avoid situations that could…induce us to ignore that service."

"A sound policy," the man said graciously, "but how then would your order feel about you being in the close company of your, uh, friend from the Amazons?"

"Excuse me?" Willow blurted out, while Tara blinked in shock at the implied insult. The other Amazons were exchanging concerned glances, several of the other guests were plainly embarrassed by the turn the conversation had taken, and the Baron's master-at-arms was glaring furiously at the speaker.

"You're aware, Miss Willow," he went on, "of the tendency of their women to…associate with each other? Clearly contrary to correct moral behavior. I wonder how you might reconcile such a situation with your devotion to purity?"

"I meant no offence, Baron," the man, von Karlin, said, raising his hands in a gesture of appeasement. "Among their own tribe, the practices of our honored guests are their own. I merely observe that, in civilized society, it is unacceptable to-"

"If you meant no offence," the Baron said in a raised voice, "you should have refrained from being offensive!"

"Of course, Baron," von Karlin said with a thin smile. He stood and dropped his napkin on the table beside his half-empty plate. "If you'll excuse me?" He stalked out without waiting for the Baron's leave. There was an uncomfortable silence in the wake of his departure.

"Let that be the end of that," the Baron said firmly. There was a general sigh of relief as conversations quietly resumed between the assembled guests. Tara turned to Willow, noticing a strained look on her face.

"Fine," she said, "just- it was unexpected, that's all. It was bound to happen sooner or later." She took a gulp of wine and sighed.

"Fine," Tara answered. "I-I was prepared for something like that…we know how some people feel about Amazons, a-and women, um, being with each other. It's just…it's not nice," she finished, painfully aware of how inadequate that was to describe the way von Karlin's words had hurt her. She knew she was a good person, and there was nothing wrong with her love for Willow – but it was a difficult thing, to have a complete stranger barely glance at her, and yet condemn her.

"Hey," Willow said softly, leaning close to Tara, "I am proud of the way I feel about you." Tara's mouth opened, but she couldn't find the words to tell Willow how grateful she was. Instead, she kissed Willow quickly on the cheek, and the surprised joy in Willow's eyes made her feel like she had just been blessed.

The rest of the evening passed uneventfully, both Willow and Tara being engaged in conversations with the other guests sitting near them, or listening to each other when they had a free moment. Tara was gratified to find Willow leaning on her elbow, hanging on her every word, as she discussed the government of the Amazon nation with the Baron's advisor, who introduced himself as Franzef, and a few minutes later she found herself just as entranced by Willow's description to Stefan of how a shard of ice could be created already in motion, so that it flew like an arrow without needing to be physically launched. Tara set aside her wineglass after a short while, suspecting that the light wine might be a little stronger than it seemed. That theory was confirmed when the Baron finally called an end to the night, and Willow stumbled slightly as she rose from her seat. Tara caught her arm and kept her upright, but Willow was still a touch unstable on her feet as they made their way back to the south wing of the castle, on the tail of the rest of the Amazons.

"Nonsense," Willow proclaimed. "I'm perfetly sober. Pereft… perf…Okay, p'rhaps you've got a point," she conceded. Tara smiled and kept a steady grip on Willow's arm, which she admitted probably wasn't strictly necessary, with Willow having her staff to support her, but she wasn't about to refuse the opportunity to walk arm-in-arm with her. Willow let herself be guided to Tara's bedroom, and gave her a kiss on the cheek as Tara took her staff to lean in the corner with her spear. Tara extinguished most of the candles lighting the room, leaving only a couple near the mirror to cast a little light to see by. Willow slid out of her boots, then fumbled with the scarf in her hair for a moment before she gave up and let Tara untie it, humming to herself as Tara enjoyed running her fingers through her silky hair.

"Would'ya untie me while you're back there?" Willow asked. Tara glanced down at the back of Willow's dress, noticing it was held together by a corset-like series of loops, tied in a bow just beneath her shoulders. She undid the straps around the back of Willow's neck first, and Willow stood up straight as Tara then undid the cord on her back, loosening the loops a little then turning to her trunk.

"I-I'll get you a robe," she said, debating whether to give Willow the revealing black one she had worn the previous night, or something slightly more modest.

"No need," Willow said promptly. Tara turned back to see her wriggle her torso free of her dress, and let it slide silkily down her legs to the floor. She might have easily spent a long time staring contentedly at Willow's smooth back, or her slim, perfectly-formed legs, or even contemplating the fact that Willow was now naked from the waist up. But she did none of these things, because without any control at all, she found all her attention drawn to Willow's bottom. Instead of being covered by briefs, the round cheeks of her rear were quite bare – from between them, a thin wisp of silk emerged, widening into a triangle just as it joined the waistband of the most revealing piece of underwear Tara had ever seen. It was like the leather underwear that went with her armor, she thought distractedly, but instead of being thick and slightly uncomfortable, made for durability and so as not to become a nuisance during strenuous fighting, this seemed designed for a single purpose: to make Willow's backside look more delectable than Tara could ever have imagined.

"Goes with the dress," Willow said, leaning forward to pull back the covers on the bed. "Told you I'd surprise you." She knelt on the edge of the bed for a moment, giving Tara an absolutely perfect view of what was burned into her memory as an absolutely perfect bottom, then she lay down and pulled the blankets up over herself, rolling over onto her back once she was covered.

'Almost,' Tara thought, making herself blush and grin at the same time. She could hear in Willow's voice that she was sleepy – probably made a bit drowsy by the wine, she thought, and seeing as it didn't seem getting to sleep would be a problem, she decided she could afford to tease Willow some more, without it leading to either of them becoming unduly frustrated.

She undid her bracers and laid them on the table, then turned around and put first one foot, then the other, up on the chair as she undid the straps on her greaves. She saw Willow watching her, and gave each leg a quick stroke, from ankle to thigh, as she removed the armor from them – Willow's eyes followed her hands each time. Then she undid the short leather skirt she had chosen to go with the outfit, holding it with one hand to keep it from falling straight away. Turning away from Willow, she slowly bent over, sliding the skirt down her legs as she went, until she was touching her toes. As always, the feel of Willow's gaze unashamedly fixed on her body stirred something in Tara. She tossed the skirt away and stood up, removing her circlet and running her fingers through her hair, which was starting to return to its usual straightness. Keeping an eye on Willow in the mirror, she took hold of her tunic in both hands and slowly pulled it up over her head. With one arm she sent it flying into the laundry basket on the floor, then reached behind herself to unhook the bra she had worn beneath it, seeing as there had been no need to wear the harness that went with her full armor. With a quick motion she released the catch, then slid the straps from first one shoulder, then the other, and let the material fall into her hands. She stood still for a moment, watching Willow in the mirror, then she leant down and blew out the remaining candles.

There was no moonlight to speak of coming through the clouds outside, so the room was in near-total darkness even before Tara closed the shutters and slid into her side of the bed. She reached out for Willow, and found her already shifting into the position she had fallen asleep in the night before, in the middle of the bed so Tara could lie against her, with an arm around her waist.

"I've…I…" Willow hesitated, then shifted as she looked over her shoulder, even though she could barely see anything. "Tara?"

"I'm not just saying that because I'm full of wine," Willow said quickly, "I'm not that drunk anyway…and I've known I loved you for…it seems so long already…a-and not long enough, you know? I-I want right now to last forever, a-and I can't wait for tomorrow and the next day, and all the time I'm going to spend with you. Or maybe I am drunk, I'm not sure I know what that means…"

"It means you love me the way I love you," Tara whispered. Willow's breath caught for a second, then she rolled over, her arms going around Tara's waist.

"Oh gods Tara," Willow whispered, "I love you so much. I…I th-think I'm gonna cry," she admitted.

"Shh, it's alright," Tara assured her, "go to sleep. I love you, my beautiful Willow."

"Mmm, I love you…my warrior," Willow said sleepily. She kissed Tara, gently letting her tongue roam past her lips, finishing by taking Tara's lip between her own and sucking it longingly, then rolled over again in her arms, covering Tara's hand on her stomach with her own. Tara cradled her, enjoying the feeling of her breasts naked against Willow's back, and listened to the rhythm of Willow's breathing until she was sure she was asleep. Then, at last, she let her eyes close on the happiest day of her life.

Willow awoke to conflicting sensations. Tara was pressed up against her, her legs curled in behind Willow's, her arm draped lovingly over Willow's waist, and her hand once again softly cupping Willow's breast. This time, though, there was no robe between them, so Willow felt not only the satisfying, arousing touch of Tara's palm over her naked breast, but also practically every inch of their bodies in contact with each other, Tara's briefs and Willow's supremely minimalist underwear counting for nothing in that regard. It was the kind of awakening that angels would pray for.

On the other hand, she had a pounding headache, and when she opened her eyes she found that even the small amount of sunlight filtering through the shutters was too much. She winced involuntarily, which caused Tara to stir in her sleep.

"Beautiful Willow…" Tara murmured, as if she had held that same thought in her mind since the night before. "Mmm…morning," she added.

Willow tried to say 'morning', but what came out was more like "Mmmrrrgh." She took a deep breath and tried to sort out her vocal cords.

"Maybe," Willow grumbled, tilting her head as much as she dared to get a glimpse of Tara.

"I'll kiss it better," Tara whispered, lifting her head slightly to brush her lips against Willow's forehead. At the same time she squeezed Willow's breast gently, bringing a smile to Willow's lips and making her give voice to a tiny moan. Her headache beat a hasty retreat, and suddenly she felt a lot better about waking up.

"I don't think there's a demon in there," she said in a sly tone as Tara's hand continued to gently massage her breast.

"Oh," said Tara, feigning disappointment, "so you don't want me to kiss it better?"

"I love you," Willow said immediately, without even thinking about it. Tara kissed the back of her neck, then teased her ear with the tip of her tongue.

"I love you too," she whispered, the touch of her breath in Willow's ear making her shudder. "About that kiss…?" she added, before closing her lips around Willow's earlobe and sucking it gently.

"What's the matter?" Tara asked gently, ceasing her teasing of Willow's ear. Willow heard the slight anxiety in her voice, and suddenly nothing was as important as reassuring her, letting her understand she had not done anything wrong, and as far as Willow was concerned could never do anything wrong. Tara's eyes were wide and searching as Willow turned in her embrace, facing her.

"I love you so much," she assured her, "and I love everything you do to me, everything we've done, I- the way you make me feel, everything. And, gods, the way you drive me wild, it's amazing. It's just, that's kind of it, I lose control, a-and it kind of feels like you do too…not that I don't like that! I love it, I promise, the way you- it feels like you need me so badly, like I need you, and…I'm just worried if we get like that, a-and we get, you know, so excited, um, we might, you know…go too far? Not that I don't want to, I-I do, so much, it's just that, when we…when we…" she hesitated.

"When we make love," she repeated, "yeah…um, I want it to be…this is going to sound so dumb," she said shyly, "I want it to be perfect. And I know it's going to be totally new whatever happens, and so, you know, probably a fair bit of fumbling around and figuring things out, a-and I kind of don't mind that, you know? Like, that's all part of it, a-and part of the experience, and I'm going to love it, I'm so sure…but right now, everything's so new, just touching you is…I-I get shivers, I know I don't always show it, but it's so…new," she finished with a little shrug.

"I just want to get…well, not used to you," Willow interrupted herself, "I don't think I'll ever get used to you, you know? Like, I'm always going to feel a bit like it's the first time when I touch you, a-and I think that's so great…I just think, maybe, in a little time – not too much time, of course – I'll be a bit more, you know, confident. So, I just don't want things to go too fast just yet. Do you get that? Is that okay?" she finished, looking at Tara with eyes that were almost pleading.

"Oh Willow," Tara said, her anxiety laid to rest, at once now intent on reassuring Willow, and finding her utterly adorable at the same time. "Of course it's okay, I-I'd do anything for you, and I-I understand, I feel the same way…I want it to be perfect too. It will be," she promised Willow.

"You're so wonderful," Willow said in quiet amazement. She stared at Tara in silence for a moment, radiating love, then remembered what she had been saying.

"I just wanted you to know," she said hastily, "that's all, I don't mean that I don't want to, you know…be with you…um, touch you, a-and you touch me, in the meantime. 'Cause I do, so much, I love you so much and when we're together, you know, intimately, like this, it feels so…I don't have words for it, it's like everything is right, everything in the whole world is, is perfect. I just needed you to know, you know, so you wouldn't get too, um, too…you know, a-and get frustrated if we didn't, um, if we had to stop then."

"I understand," Tara said soothingly, "I know…I don't w-want to take this too fast either. I-I won't do anything I can't…that would be difficult to…slow down," she finished.

"That's all I wanted," Willow promised, "I didn't want you to get frustrated, i-if you got, um…"

"Aroused?" Tara asked silkily. Willow nodded. "It's alright," Tara assured her, "I know we have to wait, until we're both ready. And until then I promise I'll be fine."

"Me too," Willow said, "I like this, when we're intimate… even when I get, um, aroused, it's a good feeling, it's so good…even if we don't make love, just the feeling is…"

"I know," Tara said, "I love how you make me feel." She snuggled closer to Willow, pressing their breasts together between them. Willow moaned and wriggled her body, loving the feel of her breasts, her nipples, moving against Tara's. She closed her eyes and delighted in the feel of Tara's breasts…'Gods, there's so much of them,' she thought giddily, feeling them against her skin. She took a deep breath, lifting her chest, feeling her and Tara's breasts flatten against each other as their mutual tight embrace squeezed them. She heard Tara sigh, and having caused her pleasure made Willow shiver along the length of her body.

"Y-you make me feel beautiful," Tara whispered, "sexy…you make me need you…you make me hot…insatiable…and so wet…" Willow's breath caught, then without conscious thought she lunged forward the short distance between them, capturing Tara's lips in a heated kiss, her tongue thrusting in the second Tara's mouth opened for her. She heard and felt Tara moan into her kiss, and concentrated entirely on the pure softness of Tara's lips, the warmth of her mouth, the way her tongue danced with Willow's, stroking and caressing as if it had a mind of its own. She barely noticed her legs becoming tangled with Tara's, or anything at all until she felt, on her thigh, the press of silky material, with heat and wetness behind it. With a shuddering gasp, she pulled back from the kiss, halting for a moment as she felt her tongue being trapped between Tara's lips and sucked enthusiastically, before finally separating.

"I-I think this is where we go slow," she managed to say between panting, desperate breaths.

"Yeah," Tara breathed, a little smile playing over her lips. "But…that doesn't mean w-we have to let go…does it?" Willow knew that if she asked, Tara would pull back without complaint…but she also knew she didn't want that, and neither did Tara.

"I think," she said slowly, "we should stay right where we are." The heat radiating from Tara's silk-covered sex pressed against her thigh was incredible. Willow could feel herself becoming aroused by it, just by the feel of it. Without any movement or encouragement on Willow's part, her body was filling with heat, her nipples already poking with determination into the yielding flesh of Tara's breasts – and she could feel Tara's nipples doing the same to hers – and between her legs, very close, in fact, to Tara's thigh, a growing warmth and wetness. Willow felt ecstatically decadent, lying still against Tara, both of them so obviously aroused, making no effort to hide it from each other – in fact, deliberately prolonging their embrace, knowing the signs of their arousal were so blatantly evident. Willow realized that they weren't quite sharing equally yet, and lifted her leg a fraction. With no further communication, Tara shifted her thigh forwards, bringing it into contact with Willow's revealing underwear, and through that flimsy barrier, her sex.

"Oh godssss," Willow hissed, letting her leg rest on top of Tara's thigh, relaxing her body completely. She had to exercise some self-restraint not to move her hips, to grind her sex against Tara's leg to bring herself the release that would inevitably ensue. But there was a certain erotic attraction to their stillness, the way they lay together, sharing their bodies. It was, Willow realized, a step towards sharing the complete range of pleasures they could give each other, this simple act of being in close contact, of revealing in physical terms their mutual attraction, their love, and the deep, unquenchable hunger that went with it.

"So," Tara murmured, "I drive you wild?" Mostly her voice sounded utterly seductive, but Willow detected a hint of doubt, as if Tara couldn't quite believe she was capable of it, despite all the evidence.

"Remember yesterday morning?" Willow asked. Tara nodded. "After I went and stretched right in front of you, you remember how you kissed me?"

"A-and then how you kept glancing at me all morning until I had to go back to my room," Willow went on, "you know, those little looks? The ones that said 'I know you're not wearing anything under that skirt'?"

"Every time you looked at me, I felt so…so sexual. A-and it was like, you and I were sharing this thing, this experience that was so intimate, in the middle of a room full of people, and none of them knew. Just you and me, our little secret…none of them knew what you knew, or knew how you were making me feel just by looking at me like that."

"When I got back to my room," Willow whispered, making an effort not to let her shyness overcome her, "I closed the shutters…I took off all my clothes…stood in front of the mirror in just my boots, looking at myself…I-I imagined it was you there with me, touching me…I-I touched myself, thinking of you…I- my breasts…a-and…m-my sex." She could feel Tara's breathing become shallow, and her own as well, but as she spoke words that, a short time ago, she could never have imagined saying to another person, she felt a boldness stir within her. She wanted Tara to hear this, to hear these words from her, this intimate moment she was sharing.

"I-I lay down," she went on, her voice shaking slightly, "on the bed…I thought of you, of you naked, a-and your breasts…I-I imagined kissing you…there…" She licked her lips unconsciously. "I felt so…thinking of you, like that, made me so…I-I lay down, a-and I… squeezed my breasts…one after the other…hard…I-I dug my fingers in a little…a-and my other hand…I…between my legs…I stroked myself…I-I rubbed m-my clit…a-and…one finger, I…I put it…inside myself… f-first just the tip…in me…just a little…a-and then…deeper…all the way…a-and…I-I…I came…"

Tara's breathing was fast and shallow, the heat against Willow's thigh intense, and Willow could feel little tremors running through Tara's hips and legs as she held herself still.

"I love you Willow," she whispered, "I love you, just don't move…I need…I just have to…calm down…a little…oh goddess I love you…"

"Tara," Willow murmured, trembling at what she was about to suggest, "do you want…do you want to…?" Tara stared into Willow's eyes, her gaze a mix of concern and desperation.

"Hold me," Tara pleaded, closing her eyes. Willow tightened her arms around Tara, holding the entire length of their bodies together, and edged her thigh upwards just a fraction, increasing the pressure on Tara's sex. Tara breathed in short gasps, her hips rocking against Willow – whether by chance or by foresight, Tara's thigh between Willow's legs had moved back just a fraction, which Willow was grateful for, otherwise things would have gotten out of hand. As it was, Willow felt gloriously, deliriously alive as Tara moved against her, rubbing the warmth of her sex on Willow's skin through the inconsequential barrier that separated them, spreading her juices on Willow's thigh. Willow leaned in to whisper in Tara's ear.

"When I came," she breathed, her voice steady as a rock and purring with desire, "when I buried my face in the pillow to keep from screaming, it was your name on my lips. When I felt my sex squeeze my finger and get so wet, I was thinking of you."

Tara froze, her mouth open but not a sound issuing from her, even her breathing stilling for a second. Willow felt an incredible tension in the body pressed against her, then a deep shudder ran through Tara, her arms and legs trembling, her body shaking, all the air in her lungs coming out in a long, exhaustive sigh. She buried her face in Willow's neck, in her hair, and her whole body relaxed completely, as if she was in a deep sleep. Willow held her tightly, feeling the warmth and wetness spread through the fabric against her thigh.

"I love you Willow," Tara murmured, "I love you…I love you…oh Willow…" She took a deep breath, and Willow felt her body coming back to its senses.

"Willow," Tara said gently, "a-are you okay? I-I mean…you don't think I…went too far…?"

"No, baby," Willow assured her, "no, you were…gods, that was amazing! No, I'm absolutely fine with it. I don't…there's nothing to regret, nothing at all."

"I just…what you told me," Tara went on, "it made me so… oh, goddess, you made me so hot…"

"I love you baby," Willow said, "my Tara, my warrior…that was the most beautiful experience of my entire life." Tara's body shuddered again, and Willow felt a different wetness on her skin, as tears slipped from Tara's closed eyes onto her neck.

"It's okay," Tara murmured, "it's okay honey…I'm so happy, I just…I can't hold it in," she laughed.

"I love you," Willow said again, wondering if she would ever get tired of saying it, and deciding no. "Um, you're not…bothered, that I… when I was alone, I mean…?"

"No, gods no," Tara said, "if I hadn't had to go down to the negotiations right away, I would've…I would've brought myself to…to, um, climax…" she admitted shyly. Again, Willow found the quality of innocence to her utterly adorable – Tara, who she had just held in her arms, to whom she had whispered her most private, intimate memories as she orgasmed, was now blushing at saying 'climax'. It was…well, it was uniquely Tara.

"'Cause I wouldn't want you to feel left out," Willow went on cheerfully, making Tara laugh again.

"No," she said, "no, it's good. It's good, Willow," she continued seriously, "it's a good thing. It means we can…explore… a-and not get so worked up over time that we stop thinking properly."

"No," Tara said, "and after the morning, I didn't need to… sitting in meetings has that effect," she grinned. "But I promise, if I do, when you're not there, I'll tell you all about it."

"We should get up," Tara murmured, her ears and stomach perking up at the muffled sounds of breakfast from the common room beyond the thick oak door to the bedroom.

"Do we have to?" asked Willow playfully, as she continued her hobby of the last ten minutes, using her fingertip to 'draw' messages on Tara's belly, hampered slightly by her tendency to use an elaborately decorative script that made it difficult for Tara to work out which letter she was drawing. Tara hadn't complained, though, because it did result in Willow's fingers spending a lot more time stroking her abdomen, occasionally teasing up towards her cleavage for a high vertical stroke, or down to the waistband of her briefs for the low tail on a 'y' or 'g'. Willow suddenly paused in the middle of 'Amazon beauty' and sniffed the air.

"Is that nutbread?" she asked, suddenly alert. "We have to get up." Tara chuckled to herself as Willow scrambled around in bed, trying to sit up. Her laughter stilled as Willow managed it, the blankets sliding down around her waist, and Tara remembered she wasn't wearing a top. She gulped, her mouth going dry, and Willow glanced at her. Tara tried to drag her attention away from Willow's breasts, which she had woken up to find cupped in her hand, and felt pressed against herself as they lay together in bed. Seeing them, though, was new, and to Tara the sight gave a new appreciation for how perfectly formed Willow was. She was just the right size, Tara thought, large enough to have the tantalizing curves of a woman, but small enough that, if Tara wanted, she could encase Willow's breasts in her hands, without needing to splay her fingers too far. 'Just right to hold her,' Tara mused happily, 'squeeze her, tease her, then lean in and kiss…' She had a sudden urge to do just that, but she knew that now wasn't the time. It was quite an effort for Tara to finally meet Willow's gaze.

"I-I d-didn't mean to stare," she whispered, not really concerned that Willow minded too much, but slightly embarrassed by the strength of her own reaction. Willow moved her legs, knelt in front of Tara, and leaned down close to her. She glanced down for a moment at herself, which made Tara look too – her breasts were hanging just a little, changing shape only very slightly as she crouched over Tara, the position of her body enhancing her curves that last little way to Tara's idea of perfection.

"I like the way you look at me," Willow murmured. She leaned down a fraction more, kissing Tara lightly on the lips, then on the forehead, which brought her breasts close to Tara's face.

"So," Willow continued, leaning back, "whenever you want to look at me…I'm yours to look at. Among other things," she added with a sultry smile. She got to her feet and slowly walked across the room, keeping an eye on Tara who watched her all the way. Willow opened the shutters, then crossed the room again – with her back a little more arched than necessary, her arms held a little way behind her, and a seductive sway in her step. 'She's performing,' Tara realized with a thrill, 'she's showing herself to me.' Willow paused in front of Tara's clothes trunk, turning her body this way and that with her hands on her hips, making a show of deciding what to wear, and assuming a determined frown that Tara found cute beyond belief. Finally she picked a mid-length robe, made of modestly thick fabric, and wrapped it around herself, covering herself quite adequately to venture outside without drawing too much attention.

"Oh, Willow," Tara said, suddenly realizing she was still lying under the blankets – had barely moved the whole time. Willow turned, about to open the door. Tara fixed her with a stare and slowly slid her legs out of the bed, then drew back the blankets and stood up. She couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious as she turned, but the way Willow's eyes suddenly widened, and then her eyelids half-closed in an aroused stare, the way her mouth opened on its own and she ran her tongue over her lips without realizing it, made Tara feel truly special. She put a little extra swing in her step as she moved around the end of the bed and walked towards Willow, feeling her breasts sway gently as she did – Willow's eyes were riveted, unblinking, on her chest.

"Wow," Willow breathed as Tara stood in front of her. After a long pause, Willow met Tara's eyes, an expression of something like wonder on her face.

"Sure," Willow said quietly, a contented smile playing over her features. Tara caught Willow's wrist and brought it to her chest, pressing Willow's hand to her cleavage, then lifting it and kissing her open palm.

"I love you," Willow replied. Tara let go of her hand, but instead of going outside, Willow pulled free the sash around her waist, took hold of her robe in both hands, pulled it back over her shoulders to bare her chest, and then enveloped Tara in a crushing hug, kissing her as if she had never tasted her lips before. The suddenness of it took Tara by surprise, and even as her mouth opened instinctively she staggered back a step, ending up with the backs of her thighs against the table in front of the mirror. Tara felt very much aroused by the way Willow was taking the lead in no uncertain terms, and allowed herself to give in completely – her tongue invited Willow's into her mouth, lavishing attention on it, her lips parted wide, letting Willow kiss her as deeply as she wished, and she leaned back a fraction over the table, her hips pressing into Willow's as she did so. Willow had an arm around Tara's waist, gripping her tightly, possessively, and Tara let her hands stroke up and down Willow's sides, letting Willow be the one to do the holding. For a moment, as Willow tilted her head sideways and kissed Tara so deep that she was sure Willow was tasting her soul, her hips and Willow's found their perfect angle, and through two thin layers of silk, Tara felt Willow's sex press against her own.

Tara whimpered into the kiss, her eyes fluttering open and closed. Willow slowed, and gently straightened herself and Tara, finally ending the kiss with a lingering caress of her tongue on the inside of Tara's lips.

"Um, breakfast," Willow said, blushing slightly. Tara nodded, catching her breath. Willow took a deep breath, pulled her robe back around herself, tied her sash, and disappeared through the door with a final radiant smile. Tara remained smiling at the door for a moment, then sat down on the table, one hand idly toying with her nipple.

'Well, if she wants to watch me, um…relieve my tension,' Tara thought, smiling shyly at the thought, 'she may get her wish before long.'

Tara smiled at Willow, still polishing off the last morsels of breakfast. She had finished her own a moment earlier, and had got up from the bed and sat at the table, retrieving a slim leather case from the shelf beneath it.

"Writing a letter," Tara said, opening the case and drawing out a sheet of paper. "We're sending a courier back to Kingsport with reports from Tryptin and the emissaries. It'll go on the next ship heading for the islands. I'm writing to Eponin. She's the mistress of my clan's house, um, sort of like the head of an extended family."

"Clans are groups of families," Tara explained, dipping her pen in the inkpot. "Back in the old days, before the Amazon nation was really a single entity, clans were how we were organized. A family wasn't always big enough to defend itself on its own, but a clan could always band together, and there'd be enough warriors to see off any threat, or enough farmers and woodsmen to feed everyone, if food was scarce, that sort of thing. Our families aren't very big, compared to here – two children is usual, four is seen as quite a lot. Clans are like big families, all the children and adults live close to each other, and share everything."

"That's a political thing," Tara said as she wrote, "the house represents the clan, in government and among the warriors. The mistress of the clan's house – or master, sometimes – is the person the clan chooses to speak for them."

"Sort of," Tara said, "I was taken in by her family when I was very young…um, my parents died, in the Reckoning." Willow was on her feet in an instant, her arms going around Tara from behind, holding her gently.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," she said quietly, resting her head against Tara's shoulder. Tara half-turned in her chair and gave Willow a smile.

"It's okay," she said soothingly, "I sat memorial for them a long time ago. I was too young to remember them, really. Um, anyway, orphans are always taken in by someone from the clan. There's no such thing as a family of one…we're never really alone. Eponin had to travel a lot when I was young, before she became mistress, so I was raised by her husband, and her eldest daughter. Sothim, and Jenavria. And a lot of the other families were very welcoming, so I was sort of raised by the whole clan, in a way. I was never alone." 'Except when you wouldn't let yourself be otherwise,' she thought. Then she looked into Willow's eyes, and saw the concern there, the intensity of her gaze, her determination to face whatever needed to be faced, so that they would be happy together. 'Not alone anymore,' Tara thought.

Willow gave her a last squeeze before releasing her, then crossed back to the bed and the last bite of breakfast vanished. Tara continued to write, as part of her attention followed Willow around the room, watching her clean up both their plates and leave them on the side table by the door, then smooth down the blankets on the bed. She stopped writing altogether and watched Willow openly as she slipped her robe from her shoulders and dropped it back in the trunk, and retrieved her discarded dress, brushing it down before slowly stepping into it. Tara paid particular attention to the way Willow wriggled the skirt up her thighs, then put down her pen and went to help Willow do up the laces behind it, which she could reach herself, but not entirely comfortably.

"I was thinking," Willow said, holding her arms out of the way as Tara tightened her bodice, "I'll go pack up my stuff from my room and bring it here. I mean, the satchels can just go in the corner, they won't be in the way. And I know we're only here for a couple more days, but…I'd like this to be my room, you know? If that's okay?"

"Depends how excited you want me," Willow quipped. "That's fine for now. Maybe some other time," she added in a seductive purr, "you can lace me up nice and tight."

"Maybe I will," Tara murmured in her ear. Willow turned and kissed her, letting her tongue play just a little before she sat on the bed to pull her boots on.

"I might be out when you get back," Tara said, "As soon as I finish this I'm going to have a wash, then meet the ambassadors on the Duncraig caravan. I'm not sure when I'll be back, but it shouldn't be too long."

"That's okay," Willow replied, "I'll just stay here and think of you. Work up an appetite for lunch." She licked her lips, blew a kiss to Tara, then practically skipped out of the door, leaving Tara grinning all over her face.

'She's insatiable,' Tara thought to herself, returning to her writing. 'Good thing you can't get enough of her either. Appetite for lunch, indeed.' She finished her letter, re-reading it just to make sure she had said exactly what she wanted to. She hoped a reply might reach them at Duncraig – it might take only three weeks or so, if she was lucky. Wishing for luck, she folded the letter, noticing she had accidentally pulled two pages at once from her writing case. An idea occurred to her, and she opened the case and chose a good pencil, then shrugged off the robe she had put on for breakfast and went and sat on the bed, pencil and paper in hand, glancing up at the mirror.

Willow got back to their room twenty minutes later, dumping her book satchels in the corner as promised and walking over to the table, sitting in Tara's chair. She noticed a folded piece of paper on the table, and wondered if Tara had forgotten her letter, but then she noticed something written on it, on the outside of the fold. She picked it up and read it:

With a grin she unfolded the paper, then nearly dropped it. Her eyes widened, and her legs suddenly felt weak. She unconsciously licked her lips as she studied the drawing on the page. It showed only Tara, no background, though Willow guessed she had been sitting on the bed, drawing herself from the mirror. She was naked, completely naked, not even a single line across her hips to show her briefs, and Willow was sure that wasn't artistic license. She imagined Tara posing as she had drawn herself – one arm delicately cradling her breasts, half-covering them, her hand holding her right breast firmly, the nipple of her left peeking out above the crook of her elbow; her right leg stretched out along the edge of the bed, with her other hand resting on top of it, her fingers touching her inner thigh; her left leg down, off the end of the bed, giving a perfect view as she sat side-on of the seductive curve of her waist, hip and thigh; and just visible between her legs, a couple of short strokes of a pencil, just the hint of curls of hair, tantalizing Willow's imagination.

Willow stared at the drawing for a long time, feeling her heart race, trying to memorize every detail. Her free hand started to sneak towards the slit in her skirt, but she stopped herself. 'No, not yet,' she told herself. She was pleased that she and Tara had reached an understanding about relieving their tensions, but for the moment she wanted to feel the fluttering in her stomach, and the warmth lower down, to tease herself, and wait. She folded the paper back up, and carefully placed it in the center of the journal she had started with Tara, promising herself that she would keep it close always.

Tara was already smiling as she pushed open the bedroom door with her elbow, both hands being full of plates, but her smile widened when she saw Willow sitting on the ledge beneath the window, wrapped in her exquisite green battlegear. Willow looked up and smiled in return, uncrossing her legs and standing in one fluid motion.

"The dining hall's full of ambassadors," she said, "I thought you might prefer a quiet lunch up here. They're a bit…" she made a face.

"They're not so bad, I suppose," Tara allowed, "just…oh, I don't know, I guess they're used to being treated like they're at the top of the society pile. They kind of…look down on everything. They hide it well – I mean, they're diplomats – but you just get the idea that this place is sort of…rustic? Something like that." She and Willow sat facing each other on the bed, plates balanced on their knees.

"Don't tell anyone," Tara said with a grin, "but I think they think he's my servant or something. No, he's fine – I think he's going to have a great time dealing with them."

"He told me – quietly -" Tara added, "that the best thing that can happen in a negotiation is for the other person to be sure he's smarter than you." Willow chuckled.

"So by the time we get to Duncraig, will he have gotten them to hand the Dukedom over to him?"

"Maybe," Tara said with a straight face, "that wouldn't be so bad. We've always been against establishing any real settlements on the mainland, but gaining the largest city in Westmarch…they'd probably consider this a successful mission back home. For his first time, of course." Willow laughed out loud, which Tara found delightful. "Of course, it's a ground city, so we'd have to do something about that," she went on. "Plant trees under all the houses, perhaps. Or get some of those cranes from the river dock and lift the city up, then transplant a forest in underneath it and drop it on top…" Willow moved her plate to the bed so she wouldn't tip it over as she laughed.

"Ah," she sighed, catching her breath. "I wonder what they'll think of me…some strange sorceress girl from the wild jungles of Kehjistan, I bet."

"If you're wearing that," Tara observed with an appreciative grin, "you'll probably get a few proposals out of them."

"Well, too bad," Willow said defiantly, "I'm not wearing it for them. I'm wearing it for you."

"It's for the contest this afternoon," Willow said, smiling her thanks, "I promised I'd be your 'beautiful lady', remember?"

"And speaking of beautiful," Willow continued, "I, um, I loved your…self-portrait." Tara blushed, and smiled shyly at her.

"I hoped you would," she said softly. Willow patted a deep, thin pouch on her belt by her hip.

"I'm glad," Tara said. She glanced at Willow's belt. "Is that the same belt you had in the library? I don't remember it having that pouch."

"It's standard equipment for a sorceress," Willow explained, "when you undo it, the pouches can slide on and off, depending on what you need to carry. So, potions," she touched a row of tiny padded cylinders to the left of the silver buckle, "spell components," various small pouches of varying sizes to the right, "pen and paper," a cylinder on her left hip, "scrolls," behind the paper, "charms and runestones," around the back of her waist, "and our journal," she finished, tapping the new pouch on her right hip. "You remembered what my belt looked like?" she added, arching an eyebrow.

"It was close to eye level when you were up on the ladder," Tara replied casually, "I saw in on my w-way to other things. So, what do all those do?"

"Well, the spell components are to help out with complicated or powerful spells," Willow said, "in my case, they're things that help channel cold energy. I've got ice crystals from Mount Arreat, they never melt unless you actually put them in a fire, which releases their energy. A bone shard from a phantom, the Order collects them whenever they have to dispel one – the plane they come from doesn't have heat, so their remains are useful for cold spells. Dried dewflowers, they only grow in freezing temperatures, instead of sunlight they draw in cold and turn it into energy. A couple of powders and liquids, they're pretty generic, all sorceresses can use them, for whatever kind of spell they need. The charms and just to help control and amplify magical power, they're all fashioned specifically for cold. The runestones are similar to the ones we saw before, you arrange them in patterns to create what we call spell frameworks, I guess they're kind of like the way you create a focus, with Amazon magic. They sort of make a 'shape', like a mould, for magical power, it makes it easier to do complicated spells. Um, the scrolls are simple things like detecting magic, creating light – they're not elemental magic, but all the power comes from the scroll itself, not from the person using them, so they're not dangerous to use. There's a limit to how powerful a written spell can be, though, so it only works with simple spells. The potions are the same, they're magical, but you don't need to use magic to use them – they're for healing, and replenishing magical power if I need to cast a lot of spells in a hurry. And… I'm just going on and on, aren't I?"

"It's fascinating," said Tara. "We use some things like those charms. They're not as common, most of them are passed down in families…It sounds like they might be similar. And our weapons can be crafted to help in creating a focus. Um, y-you can have a look, if you like," she offered.

"Thanks," Willow said. "I noticed that first day, your spear has electrum in it."

"It's not really mine," Tara said, "it's Solari's, it's been in her family for generations. Th-there aren't many like it, it's supposed to be attuned to Zerae. Its ritual name is 'storm-caller'. A lot of old weapons have more than one name," she explained, "depending on how they're used. The ritual name is for weapons that can be used in ceremonies to honor the goddesses they're made for. Outside ceremonies, it's 'Silverstrike'."

"Storm-caller," repeated Willow, "I can guess why. Zerae gives you lightning energy, right?" Tara nodded. "Electrum is used to make equipment for lightning sorceresses, too. It's very powerful, and difficult to enchant without contaminating it. Your spear has pure electrum all through it – it's like a magic staff, sort of. And the patterns it's shaped into are probably along the same lines as runes, like a permanent spell built-in."

"Oh," said Tara, surprised – she knew Silverstrike was a noted artifact among her people, but she had to admit she thought it was more of a cultural respect. "Does your staff have things like that crafted into it?" she asked.

"Most sorceresses have staves made for them," Willow said, "hardened ash-wood mixed with sandstone powder for fire, obsidian and night-oil resin for lightning, Arreat ice for cold. Ember gave me my staff, though." She shrugged. "We don't rely on staves anyway, a lot of our training is done without them. She asked me to take this staff, rather than an ice one, so I did. She didn't say why, just that it was a good choice."

"Volcanic rock and black iron," Willow said with another shrug. "It's covered by the wood, but there are spells you can do to find out what something's made of. It's a pretty good staff, it helps control energy. A normal ice staff would be more likely to amplify power, and sometimes it'd get a bit out of hand and you'd have to just flare off the power – in the case of cold magic, it's easy, you just spread the cold out through the air around you, really thin so all it does is drop the temperature a little. Lightning can be flared into passive effects – they say if you're good you can channel the flare back into something like an energy shield, that's kind of like chill armor, but for lightning. Fire takes a lot of practice, it's a bit dangerous really. Ember once said the best thing you can do if you need to flare off fire energy is to point your staff into the air and wait for the jet of flame to die down."

"Yeah, I know," Willow agreed, "fire sorceresses spend a lot of time practicing control, so they don't accidentally call up more power than they need for a particular spell. Us cold girls have it easy," she admitted with a grin, "we just wear something warm if we're practicing a new spell. I've never had to flare, using this staff, though. It's like all the power it doesn't have in amplifying cold, it has in controlling energy – even fire and lightning. We practice with powers other than our chosen elements," she explained, "just enough to do simple effects if we really need to, and to interfere with anyone casting against us using those powers. If you know fire magic, it's possible to undo a fire spell even if someone else is casting it. Same with lightning – they used to get us to pair off, and have one of us cast a spell, just into the air, and the other one try to undo the spell. Whoever made this staff must have had that in mind, it's brilliant at shutting down magic. Some of the other girl called it 'spell breaker'."

"Yeah, it is," Willow agreed. "Just my luck the only thing that's ever attacked me wasn't using spells." She gave Tara a smile, just to reassure her that she wasn't dwelling on those events.

"It'd be beautiful on anyone," Tara said, "on you, i-it's divine." She put her own plate aside and moved over to sit next to Willow, who she was pleased to see was blushing at the compliment.

"See," she went on, touching the fabric wrapped around Willow's arm, "it matches your eyes…and even where y-you're covered up, I can still see the shape of you. Arms," she trailed her finger to Willow's wrist, then skipped to her hip nearby, "and legs…perfectly curved." She slid her finger in one of the folds in Willow's skirt and followed it up, meeting her belt just as she got close to the center of her waist.

"I'll have to wear it more often," Willow whispered with a grin. "I always felt kind of shy wearing it…you know, the lack of anything in the middle…"

"No, no," Tara murmured, gently taking hold of Willow's shoulders and laying her down, "that's the best part. All this lovely Willow," she slowly ran her fingers up and down Willow's stomach, from her waist to the edge of her top, just between the bottom of her breasts, and back down again.

"Oh yes," Tara said in a hushed voice, "I like. You have a truly beautiful belly." She chuckled. "That sounds strange. But it's true." She leaned down and lay her head gently on Willow's stomach, feeling the warm body beneath her, and the soft motion as Willow breathed in and out. "Mmm," she moaned, "I could stay here forever…"

"I could get you a pillow if you liked," Willow teased, her hand stroking Tara's hand.

"But I can't do this with a pillow," Tara said, turning her head and kissing Willow's navel. She felt Willow shiver beneath her, and she adjusted her position without taking her lips from Willow's skin. With her arms around Willow's waist, holding her tightly, she poked her tongue into Willow's navel and pushed gently, wriggling her tongue around.

"Oh!" Willow exclaimed. Tara continued her kiss, feeling Willow's breathing speed up, then lifted her head up with a final lick at Willow's abdomen and grinned up at her.

"Have I mentioned," Willow said, in a slightly awe-struck voice, "that you turn me on like nothing in the world?" Tara wriggled up to lie beside Willow, feeling shy and proud at the same time.

"I-I might have got that impression," she admitted. Willow rolled over half on top of her and kissed her, starting on her lips, making her way up to Tara's ear which she gently nibbled and sucked, then down beneath her jaw and back up to her lips. By the time Willow's tongue made contact with hers, Tara had closed her eyes and was moaning quietly. Willow drew out the kiss for a long time, alternately driving deep into Tara's mouth, and surrendering completely, letting Tara take full possession of hers, before finally she lay back beside her.

"The very next time I see your lovely naked stomach," Willow promised, "I am going to show you exactly how wonderful that feels."

"Absolutely," Willow said, holding Tara tightly around the waist as they rode down towards Maresburg. Stefan was a few lengths ahead of them, leading the way along a road that ran down from the castle's hill to the farmlands below, away to the west of the forests Tara had already seen. Two of the Baron's guards followed at a respectable distance – their presence was more a courtesy than a precaution, the Baron having assured Tryptin that Maresburg, of all the towns in the surrounding lands, was among the most law-abiding.

"Hey now," Willow protested, "let's not get ambitious! This is just fine the way it is." Tara smiled to herself and kept Kestrel at a quick walk, following the pace Stefan was setting. The old archer was quite at home, exchanging waves and greetings with the people they passed on the road, driving wagons and carts up towards the castle, or out on foot on their way somewhere.

"Yes, it certainly is," Tara said to herself, keeping the reins in one hand while her other discreetly stroked Willow's arms around her waist. She felt very relaxed, more than she would have expected of herself, given the slight flutter of nerves she had experienced when they were standing in the courtyard, and a stablehand had walked Kestrel over to her. Last time she had set out like this, she had ended up catching a crossbow bolt a couple of inches from her head. But she had calmed herself, taking reassurance from the knowledge that her attacker, and the man who had instructed him, were both locked away behind several feet of solid stone and steel bars.

It seemed no time at all until they were riding through the outskirts of Maresburg, which consisted mainly of a crossroads, widened into a town square, with wooden buildings clustered around it, growing outwards west, north and south, and backed up against the beginning of the castle's hill to the east. The closer they got to the center of town, the more impressive the buildings were – on one corner of the square was a large two-storey building, which Tara took for a town hall from the elaborate carved wood coat of arms above its doors. Stefan led them over to stables opposite the hall, and they left their horses there to continue on foot. The town's population was already out in force, gathered around a the of outdoor taverns near the town well, obviously awaiting the beginning of the contest. Some of them gave a cheer or lifted their mugs at the sight of Stefan, and a number began drifting across the square and along one of the roads. Tara and Willow followed Stefan, with their guards a few paces to either side. Tara noticed the Baron's master at arms in the crowd, in the middle of a conversation with someone, and she wondered if he was there for fun or to keep an eye on things. Either way, she felt safe – the man always seemed perpetually aware of everything around him every time she had seen him.

Beyond a few storehouses and shops the ground to the west of the road opened up in a grassy expanse, with wooden stands on two sides, and a number of benches and tables already in place, occupied by the early arrivals who were enjoying the end of lunch, cheering or making loud suggestions to the archers who were already at practice, firing at targets set up on the far side of the field. One of the stands was larger and taller than the others, with a brightly-colored shade cloth stretched between the tops of poles at its corners, and a number of well-dressed townsfolk seated inside. Stefan exchanged greetings with a few of the spectators and archers who wandered over to meet him, then motioned for Willow and Tara to follow him over to the covered stand.

"My wife," he said proudly, introducing them to a tall woman about his age who smiled at the sight of him and got down from her seat. She was dressed in a simple but well-made dress that showed off an admirable figure, and her white hair was tied back in a single braid that trailed to her waist.

"Tara, an Amazon warrior," Stefan said to her, "and Willow, a sorceress. Ladies, Bethany, my wife."

"Very well, thank you," Tara said, bowing. Willow tried a curtsey, and found it wasn't that difficult.

"We've all been looking forward to seeing your skill with the bow," Bethany went on to Tara, after raising an eyebrow at Willow's battlegear. "Our daughter is around here somewhere," she added, glancing around the crowd. A horn sounded from the field, and the archers ceased fire and went to retrieve their arrows.

"I'll introduce you all afterwards," Stefan promised, "it's time for our contest. Miss Willow, would you care for a seat? Normally I'd just be a spectator myself, I see they've saved me a seat as usual."

"Thank you," Willow said, stepping up onto the platform beside Bethany, who was still a full head taller than her. Stefan bowed elaborately to his wife, and she smiled and drew a lace handkerchief from her sleeve, which he took and tucked into his belt.

"Thank you, my lady," he said with obvious affection. While Bethany was smiling at him, Willow turned to Tara.

"My warrior?" she said with a grin. As soon as Tara's eyes were on her, she quickly reached up beneath the hem of her top and drew out a silk cloth, thankful she had thought of it earlier, and been able to stuff it into her cleavage in one of the brief moments Tara hadn't been watching her.

"My lady," Tara said, accepting the silk, and touching it to her lips before tucking a corner of it in her belt. Willow smiled and sat down next to Bethany, as Tara and Stefan headed towards the firing line.

"My word," Bethany said, "we don't see many mages around here. Well, apart from that dreadful man up at the castle. I never liked him. Related to an old family, you know, supposedly a noble line, but if you want my opinion, there's not much to recommend them nowadays. And Miss Tara, the Amazon, you're traveling together?"

"Yes," Willow said, "we met in Kingsport, and we're on the caravan heading to Duncraig."

"Well, that's quite a journey," Bethany said, "and you know, we hear such things about Duncraig, it should be quite the experience for you. But I imagine you'll be enjoying the journey as it is. You and she…I'm not sure how to put this, you're close?"

"She looks at you very fondly," Bethany said. She and Willow shared a smile, then Bethany was distracted at the arrival of the rest of her family, and spent a moment introducing them to Willow: their daughter Erin, a tall, raven-haired woman very much in the mould of her mother, her husband Rudi, an amiable man with a charming smile. In her arms Erin held a baby, her and Rudi's son Werner. Rudi was full of enthusiasm at seeing an Amazon archer – her skill, not the archer herself, Willow gathered – and Erin listened to his ramblings with affectionate indulgence while she loosened the laces of her bodice enough to feed their baby. Willow was slightly surprised at that, but no-one seemed to pay her the least attention, except for Rudi himself whose eyes occasionally dipped downwards. Bethany passed the time asking Willow about her battlegear, wondering if it would be possible to buy something of the sort in Kingsport. After a few minutes another horn sounded, and the crowd settled back to watch the contest.

One of the townsfolk, chosen for his loud voice, Willow guessed, informed the crowd that they were to witness a contest of archery between Stefan, noted citizen of Kingsport and master of archers at the Baron's court, and Tara, a warrioress of the fabled Amazons. While he spoke, going into some detail about Stefan's accomplishments for the benefit of those who didn't know him, and reciting a few exciting tales about Amazons – Willow could just make out Tara's amused, resigned expression, but the speaker confined himself to various tales of dubious accuracy about the Amazons' prowess in battle – a team of men busied themselves dragging an elaborate wooden contraption out into the middle of the line of targets. It consisted of a pedestal framework, inside which were various wooden gears connected by heavy, knotted ropes to a pulley system that vanished behind a sturdy wooden shield several meters long. Once this was in place the men retreated behind the shield, safe from stray arrows. From where she was sitting, Willow could just make out one of them, holding the end of the rope. Another man carried a target up to the pedestal, fixing it in place before retreating.

The horn player sounded the beginning of the contest once the participants had been introduced, and at a yell from behind the shield wall the men began to pull on the rope, turning it in a loop that ran through the pedestal. The target began to pivot, as Stefan nocked his arrow and stared levelly down the field at it. Willow found herself quite caught up in the moment, her stare fixed on Stefan's arrowhead as he slowly raised his bow and drew it back. He waited a moment, taking his time as he stared down the length of his arrow at the target, turning away from him and back again. There was a collective intake of breath as he let fly, and then the men pulling the rope stopped, a horn sounded to ensure neither archer fired, and someone scurried out from behind the shield to check the arrow embedded in the target.

"A half!" Willow heard him call, repeated by the loud-voiced announcer to general applause. "Half and straight!" The crowd cheered, Willow joining in the polite but enthusiastic applause from the stands.

"Very close to the bullseye," Bethany explained for Willow, "and it went in while the target was facing dead ahead. It's a pity your Amazon friend hasn't had a chance to practice on the machine, Stefan says it's a difficult thing to master."

The men at the target pulled out Stefan's arrow and took cover as the others began to pull their rope again, spinning the target slowly. Willow stared at Tara, noting every detail of her posture, the intensity of her concentration, as she nocked her arrow and drew back her bow. She aimed slowly, letting the arrowhead drift up and around to point at the target, and for a moment she was absolutely still. Willow had to admit, she was actually a little aroused, as well as simply impressed, by the image of Tara standing straight, her feet apart a little way, her shapely legs braced, her arms motionless as she held back the string of her powerful bow, by necessity a little further from her body than Stefan had. She had leaned her head sideways, her cheek touching her wrist as she sighted along her arrow. There was just the tiniest movement, her fingers releasing the string, and as Willow kept her eyes on Tara, she saw that she barely moved a muscle for a moment after she fired.

"Center and one degree!" came the call from the other end of the field. A surprised cheer went up from the crowd, and Willow was sure she saw Tara catch a glimpse of her as she shot out of her seat, clapping her hands above her head.

"Bullseye," Bethany said with some admiration, "and very close to straight. I'd say they're even so far. Your friend is very good." There was some activity around the pedestal involving pieces of wood being set in place, and when everyone retreated the target was in the center of a six-foot-wide cylinder of wooden slats, with gaps in it at the same height as the center of the target. When the horn sounded and the men began pulling the rope again, both the target and its guard began to turn, in opposite directions so that the target and the gaps in the cylinder lined up perfectly only every few turns.

Tara went first this time, standing exactly as she had before. Again Willow watched her, ignoring the rest of the crowd, and not really paying very much attention to the target either. She smiled to herself at the strength and the poise in Tara's body, the perfection of her stance and her concentration. She indulged a little fantasy about standing right behind Tara as she drew back her bow, pressing her body against her and feeling the coiled, controlled strength in her. Willow was snapped out of it as Tara fired, and the crowd cheered at once, seeing that her arrow had not hit the guard, but had gone through to the target.

"Center!" the man called, to renewed cheering. Stefan nodded to Tara as he passed her on his way to the line, as one professional admiring another, then the horn sounded and the cheering died down to murmurs. Stefan took his time firing, waiting almost a full minute before letting his arrow fly, but it was evidently worth it, as the call "Center!" came back.

"He's in fine form," Bethany observed, "he always has a good day when he makes that one." The announcer called the last round, and when the horn sounded an upright post had been added to the field, thirty feet in front of the target. It was a little taller than the bullseye itself, and its top was a torch that had been lit.

"Those wraps around the arrows are soaked in oil," Bethany explained, as they watched both Stefan and Tara hand one of their arrows to a man who carefully bound rags around them, just behind the arrowheads. "They have to pass through the torch, catch fire, and hit the target. I've seen arrows go through without lighting, but Stefan says the trick is in drawing the bow. Having the post there means the arrow has to be at exactly that height when it passes, so the archer has to fire at just the right speed to flatten the curve out over the post and into the target. Spend thirty-five years married to an archer," she added with a grin, "and you pick up a few things."

Stefan was first, but he didn't wait as long as he did for his previous shot. He drew, aimed and fired with barely a pause – "Cocky rascal," Bethany observed affectionately – the torch flared as the arrow passed it, and then, with its tip alight, it was shuddering in the center of the target. The call confirmed that the shot had been a bullseye, and even the higher-class spectators in the stands were on their feet applauding. Tara looked quite impressed, but Willow smiled at her when she glanced towards the main stand.

Tara took her place, and was just drawing back her bow when the horn sounded, signaling not to fire. Willow glanced along the length of the field, and saw that the torch had gone out, Stefan's arrow having scattered the cinders at its top somewhat, and the wind, gusting irregularly across the field, had done the rest. A man was scurrying out from behind the shield wall with a lit torch.

"Stand clear!" Willow heard Tara call out. The horn player looked confused for a moment, then blew the signal. The man with the torch frowned, looked down the field for clarification, then shrugged and retreated. Once he was safely out of the line of fire Tara chose another arrow, with no cloth around it, and took aim again.

Willow had a vague idea what she had in mind, but the rest of the crowd were taken completely by surprise as Tara's arrow burst into a streak of flame the moment it left her bow. There was a flare as it passed the top of the post, setting fire to it, and then it was through the guard and embedded in the target, still burning. The scorer quickly doused the flame and checked the arrow's position.

The crowd went wild, even Bethany standing to applaud. Stefan escorted Tara back to the stands, smiling as they were stopped every couple of steps as various spectators bowed and congratulated Tara. Someone even produced a handful of roses, very prettily bound in a white cloth, which Tara accepted graciously, looking slightly shy as she did so. Bethany, Willow, Erin and Rudi got down from the stand to meet the pair as they cleared the crowd.

"My lady," Stefan said, "I'm sorry I couldn't win for you today." He said it with a smile, but also honest regret. Bethany curtseyed to Tara before fixing her gaze on her husband.

"Come here, you," she said, smiling. They shared a kiss, provoking another cheer from some of the spectators nearby. Tara finished thanking Erin and Rudi, who congratulated her as well, and turned to Willow.

"My warrior," Willow said, taking them. She and Tara stood there for a moment, staring into each other's eyes, until Bethany leaned over to Willow.

"Oh go on, girl," she said, "no-one minds." Willow smiled, Tara blushed, and they kissed for a moment, slowly and tenderly, though with their lips closed, in deference to being in public.

"What did you think of Amazon magic?" Tara asked, as she and Willow ate dinner in the common room. Some of the other Amazons were also at the long table, engrossed in conversations of their own, though Tryptin and his personal staff were dining with the Duncraig ambassadors.

"I'm impressed," Willow said earnestly, "you know, I didn't feel a thing?" Tara looked confused. "I don't mean I didn't feel anything to watch you," Willow corrected herself hastily, "I mean… normally a fire spell like that would give off, um, 'echoes' that any mage within a hundred feet would be able to feel. The better the mage, the more controlled the spell, so the less wasted energy there is."

"Well, I wasn't actually doing the magic," Tara admitted, "that was Hefaetrus. So maybe that's why you didn't sense it?"

"It's still impressive," Willow insisted, "you know, I think your magic might be the most controlled I've ever seen. I guess maybe because you concentrate entirely on the focus, on the shape of the spell, where a sorceress has to form the spell and power it at the same time. It's a bit of a juggling act," she added with a grin. "When you were training, was it unusual for spells to get a bit out of hand? Like, the fire being too strong, or things like that?"

"I-I don't think so," Tara said, "I never heard of anything like that happening with magic. It's usually just a case of doing it right or not. If you do it, it works, if not…well, you just fire a normal arrow, and nothing happens."

"Well, it's not always controlled," Tara admitted, "I remember once when some of the trainees were practicing with explosive fire, they accidentally set one of the storehouses on fire. Their aim was a bit wild." Willow chuckled at the thought.

"No," Tara said, "I was always very…I'd be very careful when I was practicing. And mostly I liked practicing just the basic skills, aiming and speed and concentration. I kind of had a knack for picking up the focusing quickly, so I didn't have to spend a lot of time working on that. Just the physical elements of it."

"Speaking of physical elements," Willow murmured quietly, "you know you looked very sexy out there today." Tara raised a disbelieving eyebrow. "Oh yeah!" Willow insisted. "all…disciplined, and controlled, and sleek and strong…the way your arms were so still when you were holding your bowstring back. That must take some strength?"

"Um, yeah," Tara said with a shy grin, "it's a strong bow, it takes a bit of getting used to…there's a few others in our baggage, lighter bows, I was thinking of getting one of those out for you to use, when I show you how…" Willow pushed her plate aside and leaned towards Tara.

"I can't wait," she said in a quiet, sultry voice. "So, how will you do it? Demonstrate first? I know, I'll stand right behind you while you draw the string, and I'll lean against you, and reach around your shoulders and feel your arms, all the tension running through your muscles…so I know how to hold the bow, of course."

"Of course," Tara said with a wry grin. She got up and held out a hand to Willow, who gladly took it and followed her to their room.

"And then it'll be my turn," Willow went on, once Tara had shut the door behind them. She mimed holding a bow, as she had seen Tara do it, left arm outstretched, right bent back, her cheek resting against her hand.

"Mmm-hmm," Willow said, "and you can stand right behind me… like that," she added, as Tara obligingly stood so close her chest was pressed firmly into Willow's back. "And make sure I'm holding it just right," Willow went on. Tara put her arms around Willow, holding each of her wrists in position. She adjusted her stance so that her feet were beside Willow's, and their legs were touching all the way down to the floor.

"And then," she breathed into Willow's ear, "you let go." Willow opened the fingers of her right hand obediently.

"You know," she said, "I think what most impressed me was how focused you were out there today. I bet nothing was distracting you."

"So maybe I should practice that?" Willow asked. "If I can keep hold of my bow, while you try to distract me…" she left a deliberate, suggestive pause there, "then we'll know I'm ready." Tara chuckled to herself, and the sound made Willow shiver in anticipation.

"You mean, distract you like this?" Tara asked innocently, before placing a quick kiss on the side of Willow's neck. Willow smiled, but didn't move. Tara ran the tip of her tongue up to the side of Willow's jaw, then kissed her earlobe.

"Very good," she said, as Willow trembled but held her imaginary bow in an almost-steady grip. She sucked on Willow's earlobe for a long time, tickling it with her tongue. Willow moaned quietly, a long, pure note emanating from her throat, ending only when Tara finished.

"Let's see how good you really are," Tara whispered. "An Amazon can hit a target she's not even watching. Look this way." Willow obediently turned her face towards Tara, away from the line of fire of her bow. Tara kissed her, starting with a quick, feather-light touch on her lips, then again, longer this time, then her lips opened, as did Willow's, and their tongues played. The sensations almost caused Willow to give in and drop her arms, but she held out, even when Tara let out a deep moan which thrilled Willow to her core.

Willow guessed what was coming next, and barely flinched when she felt Tara's hands on her bare sides, stroking lightly up and down. She knew Tara could get her in an instant by tickling her, but apparently that wasn't what Tara had in mind, for she kept the pressure of her fingertips just enough to avoid causing an involuntary reaction. Her fingers ventured around Willow's body, over her stomach, back and forth, moving slowly higher with each pass. She moaned, louder than she had been meaning to, when Tara's fingers found the edge of her top and snuck underneath.

"Oh gods please yes!" she exclaimed, reaching behind herself to hold Tara tightly against her as Tara's hands pushed under the fabric of her clothing and cupped her breasts. Tara held her firmly, squeezing gently, rhythmically, massaging Willow's breasts as she felt her nipples harden in her palms.

"You dropped your bow," she murmured, separating her lips just a fraction from Willow's.

"Then I need…more practice," Willow said hoarsely, arching her back to push herself into Tara's hands, and grind her hips against Tara's. "Later," Willow amended, "for now…why don't you…keep distracting me…"

Tara smiled and captured Willow's lips again, marveling at her breasts. 'I was right,' she thought gleefully, 'just the right size.' She rubbed her palms around in circular motions, stimulating Willow's nipples as she gently squeezed and released with her fingers. The way Willow was moving against her was intoxicating. Emboldened by Willow's response to her, Tara tightened her hold and kneaded Willow's breasts firmly, pushing them together each time she squeezed. Willow's lips fell completely open beneath her kiss, and her legs began to tremble seriously.

"I won't let you fall," Tara promised. Willow surrendered herself to Tara's arms, reaching down with her own hands to grip Tara's bottom through her leather skirt. Tara thrilled at the feeling, devouring Willow's mouth.

"Oh gods Tara," Willow moaned, as Tara took a break to plant kisses along her neck, "it's too much…"

Tara's hands instantly stilled, though she didn't withdraw them. She wouldn't allow herself to even hint to Willow that she might ignore anything she said, but at the same time she suspected that if she broke off contact completely Willow would feel somehow guilty, as if she had been wrong to say anything, and she never wanted Willow to think that.

"No…I don't know," Willow admitted, "gods, I don't want you to stop…but you're making me so hot…"

"I love you Willow," Tara said, "if you want to stop now, I promise I'll go to sleep next to you the happiest woman in the world. Nothing can change that."

"Oh gods I love you," Willow said, "you're the most perfect lover…I don't want to stop, I just…if you keep touching me like that, I'm going to have to…you're making me so hot I need to, um…a-and I know you're not ready for that, not yet, I mean, I'm not ready for it either…"

"Y-you could, um, t-touch yourself," Tara suggested quietly. "Like y-you told me this morning…and I'll keep touching you, and hold you while you…while you come…" Willow took a deep breath, trying to contain herself.

"I'm sure," Tara insisted, "I…when you held me this morning, I've never felt so loved, so much a, a part of you. I-I want you to feel that too…"

"Please," Tara said. Willow closed her eyes and kissed Tara so deeply that she felt her legs buckle, and sat down heavily on the bed behind her, with Willow still in her arms. If Willow noticed, she didn't mind, she just continued to kiss Tara voraciously. Tara resumed her attention to Willow's breasts, starting slowly but quickly building to the pace she had been setting before. Willow, sitting in her lap, writhed in her embrace, her hips rocking and jolting as she moved. Tara felt Willow's hands leave her bottom, where they had nearly been pinned in place as she sat down, and opened an eye to see Willow reaching for the clasp on the slim silver collar around her neck. She undid it and let it fall to the ground, her hands grasping at the fabric around her chest and pulling it aside, baring herself to Tara's ministrations.

"Oh gods Tara," Willow moaned, "oh gods, that is so good, you're making me so hot, please don't stop, please, oh gods, Tara, gods…" She captured Tara's lips again, her tongue venturing into Tara's mouth just long enough to ensure a response before completely surrendering, giving herself over to Tara completely. At the same time her left hand was covering Tara's, pressing it hard into her breast, while her right fumbled with the catch on her belt. She managed to undo it, pushing the top of her skirt down to reveal her underwear.

"Come for me, baby," Tara breathed. Willow's fingers crept beneath the waistband of her briefs, stretching it out to make room for her hand.

"Yesss…" she sighed as her hand clamped down between her legs. Tara watched, eyes downcast as she kept kissing Willow, seeing the movements of her wrist, feeling her hips rock in time to them. She concentrated on her own hands, steadily increasing the tempo of her intense massage of Willow's breasts. She could actually smell the scent of Willow's arousal, and it excited her like nothing else, driving her to pour all her passion into the woman in her arms, kissing her, caressing her, arousing her, and holding her as she drew closer to release, letting out little high-pitched moans into Tara's mouth with every thrust of her fingers.

Willow orgasmed with a deep, lusty groan, almost a growl, her lips pressed against Tara's, her hips bucking so hard she actually rose up off Tara's lap for a second. Tara leaned back, carrying Willow with her as she lay on the bed, finishing up with Willow sprawled on top of her, breathing in short gasps as she held Tara's hand firmly to her chest, her legs splayed apart off the edge of the bed, the sleeves of her top down around her elbows.

"Oh gods Tara," she gasped, "not much longer, I promise…oh I need you so much…"

"I know baby," Tara assured her, "not much longer." Willow took a deep breath, her body totally relaxed.

"I'm not squashing you, am I?" she asked after a moment. Tara laughed, making Willow giggle as the movement in Tara's chest bounced her up and down slightly.

"Mmm, you feel pretty good yourself," Willow replied, "even if you are still wearing way too much."

"I'd get undressed," Tara countered, "except there's a delicious sorceress lying on top of me."

"Delicious, huh?" Willow teased. "Am I in danger of being eaten?" Tara felt the blush on Willow's cheek as she realized what she had said, but only chuckled. Feeling bold and light-headed, she reached down with the hand that wasn't underneath Willow's and took hold of her other wrist. Slowly, giving Willow every opportunity to pull back, she pulled Willow's hand out from underneath her underwear and raised it to her lips. Willow was staring at her in amazement, but gave no indication that she wanted Tara to stop. Tara opened her lips and reached out with her tongue, touching it to the tip of Willow's forefinger. Then she gently moved Willow's hand closer and took her fore and index fingers into her mouth, her eyes fixed on Willow all the while.

Willow's taste was something Tara could never have been prepared for, like nothing she had ever experienced before. For a fraction of a second it was strange to her, then pleasure washed over her and she was sucking and licking Willow's fingers as if her life depended on it, intent on savoring every last succulent drop of Willow's arousal. When she was finally satisfied that she had cleaned Willow's fingers completely she let them go, gently maneuvering Willow's hand so that she could chase down every trace of her juice that had made its way onto her palm and her other fingers. She held Willow's stare the entire time, not blinking once.

When she finally let Willow's little finger slide out from between her lips, Willow eyes were as wide as she had ever seen, and her mouth was hanging open. Tara hoped she hadn't shocked Willow – well, not in a bad way – but Willow had never given even the slightest resistance. Now she stared at Tara as if she was something supernatural.

"Gods," she breathed, "Tara…you are so sexy I'm going to burst." Tara laughed, and Willow joined her, rolling off her and just as quickly climbing back on top of her, facing down this time so she could hug Tara back as Tara's arms went around her waist.

"Yeah," Willow smiled. She kissed Tara, which went on for some time, then finally and reluctantly got up and discarded her disarrayed battlegear. Having so little to take off, with her top already half-off and her skirt falling around her knees, she was already naked save for her briefs by the time Tara was sitting up and undoing the straps on the tops of her boots.

"Let me," Willow said, kneeling down in front of Tara and replacing her hands on the buckles. She undid Tara's boots and slid them off, then undid the straps holding the bracer on her left forearm and laid it aside. With a gently tug she brought Tara to her feet, and loosened the laces on either side of her armor. She managed, by standing on tip-toes, to get it all the way up over her head and arms, then laid it out on top of Tara's clothes trunk and came back to stand very close to her as she loosened her skirt. She let it fall to the floor, staring into Tara's eyes.

"I believe I have a promise to keep," Willow said, kneeling down again in front of Tara. Tara wondered for a moment what she was doing, then remembered at the same instant as Willow planted her lips around Tara's navel and thrust her tongue into it, squirming around with relish. Tara squealed and fell gleefully back onto the bed, with Willow holding her around the waist to stop her getting away as she continued to twist her tongue around. Finally she stopped, letting Tara catch her breath, and gave Tara's stomach one last kiss before she got back up and put out the candles. Tara held the blankets up for her as she returned from closing the shutters, and curled around her as she lay down, settling into their accustomed position, Willow on her side with Tara behind her, arm around her waist.

"I know," Tara replied, "I love you too." They lay together for a moment, silent and at peace.

"Mmm-hmm," Tara murmured, "absolutely. It's just a matter of time." Willow giggled, and wriggled in Tara's arms, teasing her. Tara kissed the back of her neck and held her tightly around the waist.

Willow stirred, stretched slightly, and snuggled contentedly into the warmth of Tara wrapped around her from behind.

"Morning, love," Willow repeated. "How long've you been awake?" Tara chuckled quietly to herself.

"Long enough to watch my beautiful magical lover sleep," she admitted. Willow sighed contentedly and wriggled slowly, rubbing her leg against Tara's.

"I know," Willow said, "but now, all calm and everything, it's different…we're lovers…gods that is beautiful." She ran her fingers over the back of Tara's hand, which had once again crept over her breast during the night. "There's no stopping you, is there?" she asked lightly.

"Amazon warriors are unstoppable," Tara answered seriously, "so don't even try."

"The thought never crossed my mind," Willow grinned. She turned over in Tara's embrace, facing her. "Tara?" she asked.

"What we did last night…you were right," she confessed, "I felt so much a part of you. Like there was nothing separating us, nothing I had to, you know, keep from you…it was beautiful."

"Me too," Willow replied quickly, "a-and…I know we said we'd take things slow, well, it was mainly me saying that, 'cause I wanted to be…I don't know, really, I guess I wanted to feel the way I do now. And I do. So, what I mean is…if you want…I'm ready, Tara. I-I want to be your lover, completely."

"Oh goddess Willow so do I," Tara whispered. Willow felt a rush of emotion, love, relief – she wondered why she had even been nervous, now – anticipation and desire all mingled together. Before she realized it Tara's lips were on hers, and she threw herself into the kiss whole-heartedly. For long moments she and Tara were locked together, exploring each other’s mouths, Tara occasionally biting gently on Willow's lip, Willow sucking on her tongue whenever she managed to capture it.

"Willow," Tara breathed, breaking away for a moment, "we should…not just yet…"

"Oh I'm sorry!" Willow blurted out, "I- you don't have to, just because I'm…I'll wait, it's better if we both-" she was silenced by Tara's fingers over her lips.

"I just mean," Tara explained, "we've got a big day, and we have to get up soon. I don't want us to have to hurry, not our first time."

"Oh," breathed Willow, smiling sheepishly as she relaxed, "oh, right…you're right, of course. So…" she left the word hanging.

"Tonight," Willow repeated, slightly dazed by the surge of lust that Tara's sexy eyes sent through her.

"The caravan sets off tomorrow," Tara went on, "we can rest in the wagon. Tonight, we won't have to rush. All night…you'll have me all to yourself…and I can take my time with you."

"Oh yes," Willow promised, "oh gods, how am I going to get through today?" she added with a groan.

"We'll manage," Tara said, "the trials will probably take up most of the day anyway."

"I guess so," Willow admitted, "just…I'll probably have to speak at Hydris's trial. I…don't like the idea of being in the room with him. It makes me feel…I don't know, it makes me go back to how I was after I saw the demon. Scared and alone." Willow was surprised – but not really, she had to admit – at how easy it was to talk about it. She felt as if the worst her imagination could conjure up would always be inadequate to shake her faith in the presence of Tara by her side.

"I know," Willow murmured, "I know…a-and I'll never really be that scared, either. I think, with you, I can't be. You make everything in my life feel better, even the really difficult things."

"I love you so much," Willow whispered, stroking Tara's cheek with loving tenderness. "You know I'll be with you too, right? A-at the other trial?"

"I know," Tara said, "thank you…" She leant in and kissed Willow, first on the cheek, the on the lips, resuming the heated tussle between their tongues that had been earlier interrupted. Willow arched her back, pressing herself against Tara even as she felt Tara's hands on her back, holding her tight. Her legs tangles with Tara's, and she moaned into Tara's mouth as she felt the warmth of Tara's sex, and Tara's thigh pressing up between her own legs.

"Oh yes," Willow moaned, "I feel you…" She was surprised when Tara separated their legs from each other, moving her body away even while her lips kept up their intense merging with Willow's. Her hands left Willow's back and disappeared downwards.

"Now feel me, baby," Tara breathed, after a moment of wriggling under the blankets. Willow tentatively moved back to her, buoyed by passion as Tara resumed her kiss, opening Willow's lips and firmly claiming her mouth. When Willow edged her thigh up between Tara's legs again, the heat and wetness she felt against her skin was more than she had ever dreamed of.

"Tara," she moaned, unable to think of words for how she felt. Tara rolled her hips slowly, rubbing her naked sex along the length of Willow's thigh, making a lusty purring noise in the back of her throat as she spread her juices over her lover's skin.

"Just for now, baby," Tara said, "just…so you know…I'm all yours…" She held Willow low on her back, near her waist, and pressed her sex into Willow's hip, sliding herself slowly all the way down her thigh, before finally allowing a little space between them. Willow gasped, overwhelmed by the thought and the reality of Tara's sex kissing her skin, and held her breath the whole time Tara was moving against her until it was over. Finally she let out a long sigh and stared into Tara's eyes.

"Let's not get carried away," Tara murmured, "think of it as a promise, for tonight." Willow didn't know whether to laugh or sob.

"Are you trying to drive me insane?" she asked, hugging Tara to herself, though she kept her legs from wrapping around Tara's again.

"Just remember," Willow warned with a brilliant smile, "the more you tease me, the more merciless I'll be when I finally get you all to myself."

"Oh I promise," Willow assured her. Tara kissed her then slid out of bed, pulling on a long robe so that Willow only got a tantalizing glimpse of the honey-gold curls between her legs. Tara leaned back down to Willow, whispering in her ear while Willow's eyes were occupied with the beautiful cleavage on display mere inches from her face.

"In that case," Tara said, her voice low and sultry, "make sure you spend plenty of time today thinking how wet I'm going to be tonight when you slide your fingers into me." Her tongue darted out to lick Willow's ear, then she stood up, tightened her robe around her, and crossed to the bedroom door.

"Bathing," she said, with a far-too-innocent smile, "I'll be back in a few minutes."

'Ooh I'm going to torture you silly for that,' Willow promised silently, watching the door close. She curled up her legs so she could slide down her underwear, then rolled over onto the part of the bed where Tara had been, inhaling the scent of her hair from the pillow and wallowing in the lingering heat left by her body. For a moment her hand snuck underneath herself and her index finger parted the folds of her sex, but then she forced herself to be still.

"Patience, you insatiable little bit o' me," she told herself, giggling all the while. "No wild frantic self-love just yet. That'd be just what she expects, so instead we tease her right back." She rolled back over, trembling gleefully as she contemplated the game she and Tara were playing. "And the best part," she said to herself, "is that it's impossible to lose!" A plan formed in her mind, and she quickly tossed off the blankets and stood, glancing at herself in the mirror. She posed provocatively, biting the tip of her finger and winking at her reflection, then slipped her other hand between her legs and, very slowly, ran her fingertip up the length of her sex, just once.

"We'll see who drives who insane first!" she proclaimed, before stalking across to Tara's clothes trunk and rummaging around until she found her short black robe, neatly folded from its trip through the castle laundry the day before. She pulled it on, did up the sash tightly around her waist so that the material below it flared around her hips, took one last glance in the mirror to make sure she wasn't showing too much, then followed Tara.

A few of the other Amazons were in the common room, having an early breakfast. Willow noticed Tryptin glance at her then look away with a smile and a half-concealed roll of his eyes, but otherwise kept her gaze fixed forward. She quietly opened the door to the bath room and slipped through, holding the latch so that it didn't make much noise as she closed it again. Inside, across the floor from a fire with several buckets of water warming over it, were two large tubs, one of them empty, the other full of hot, soapy water and Tara.

"Goddess, Willow," Tara laughed, "y-you startled me!" She had just finished washing her face, and her skin was flushed pink and glowing. She ran an appreciative eye over Willow. "Did I tell you before how sexy you look in that?" she added.

"Thanks," Willow grinned, stepping gingerly into the water in front of Tara, "but it wouldn't do to get it all wet, would it?" She pulled the sash loose and caught the robe as it slipped off her shoulders, tossing it to one side before putting her hands on her hips and staring down at Tara. Tara's wide eyes traveled slowly down her body, taking in her breasts, her fingers splayed against her hips, the little patch of red hair between her legs, right down to her submerged feet, then all the way back up again until she met Willow's twinkling stare.

Willow slowly knelt in front of Tara, taking the opportunity to get a good look at her naked body, not least her generous breasts, before she reached out and took the washcloth from Tara's unresisting hand. She gently ran the cloth over Tara's shoulders, watching rivulets of water run down across her breasts and through her cleavage. She took each of Tara's arms and dragged the cloth along their length to her hands, running it back underneath so as not to miss any spots. Leaning closer she wet Tara's back, before soaking her hips and thighs down to the water. Then she dropped the cloth in the water, and leaned back just enough to look Tara in the eye. Tara had simply stared at her the whole time, as if she couldn't believe what she was seeing.

"Goddess," Tara breathed, her expression suddenly anxious and shy, "I don't deserve…you're perfect…" Willow shook her head gently, and placed a tiny kiss on Tara's lips.

"If I'm good enough for you," she whispered, "then I must be." Tara's eyes focused on her and her lips parted slightly as she digested Willow's words. Then she reached out, her hands cupping Willow's cheeks as tenderly as a mother with a newborn child, and kissed her. It wasn't one of the heated kisses of before, full of desire and barely-contained need, nor was it chaste, for though Tara did nothing more than open her lips slightly and move them against Willow's, the kiss carried in it a current of sexuality that surpassed even the last few days' wildest moments. Willow couldn't describe it as anything less than perfect – all the world fell away, and there was nothing else besides Tara.

After a time – she couldn't describe how long – she felt her legs unfold beneath her, gently break the surface of the water and find the bottom of the tub again. She came slowly back to awareness standing with Tara, their bodies not pressed but simply held together, hands lightly on each other's hips. Tara opened her eyes again, which threatened to consume Willow. Together they sank back into the water.

"Let me?" Willow asked needlessly, her fingers grappling with the soap for a moment. Tara nodded and leaned back slightly, giving Willow room to slowly, luxuriously cover her body. Willow made sure she missed nothing, but the waves of erotic heat coursing through her at the simple act of touching Tara's body, anywhere, were such that she was genuinely afraid of fainting when she finally ran her soapy hands up Tara's stomach and cupped her breasts from beneath. She moved slowly, her thumbs almost touching each other, palms beneath Tara's breasts, fingers splayed to the sides, creeping upwards until she held their weight, and somehow managed to wrap her mind around the sensations, the softness, the smoothness. Tara relaxed herself, kneeling with her hands on her heels behind her, letting her head fall back and giving voice to a tiny, high moan as Willow's thumbs ventured inwards from her cleavage to find her nipples.

Willow massaged Tara's breasts for a moment, then reluctantly let her hands continue upwards, her palms leaving a parting caress over Tara's nipples. She had to fight the urge to stay, to touch Tara like this all day, but she knew they didn't have time right now. The heartbeat of desire building within her was balanced by a new calm she hadn't ever experienced before, as if something inside her had finally understood that a moment like this, even if it would end in nothing more than intimate touching and whispered words, was its own experience, and its own reward.

Soaping Tara's inner thighs, she hesitated. She knew it was foolish, considering everything she and Tara had already shared, but for all that she had held Tara in her arms during her climax, felt the heat and wetness against her leg, felt Tara's sex completely naked that very morning…she had never touched her there. She knew she would, there was no question of it, but she had to pause for just a moment, to let the knowledge sink in before she proceeded. As if reading her mind, Tara moved her knees outwards, parting her thighs in an unmistakable invitation. Willow slowly, gently moved her fingers higher, until they reached their destination, and she felt the unique softness, the silky tenderness, that she had never known anywhere but her own body, her own center.

'Oh my gods,' Willow thought, 'oh my gods, I'm touching her, I'm touching her sex, don't panic, don't move too fast, we're just bathing here, oh gods oh gods oh gods…'

"Mmmmmm," Tara sighed, moving ever so gently, parting her legs as far as the sides of the tub would allow, relaxing just enough to let a fraction of her weight rest on Willow's hand. Willow wouldn't have been able to tear her eyes away had the Power That Is manifested herself right there in the bath room with them. Before her, Tara was the embodiment of pleasure, her whole body and posture and demeanor perfectly aligned to show complete bliss, in the moment when she was utterly vulnerable, absolutely exposed to Willow. Willow had never seen anything that so called to her soul to be as perfect as was humanly possible, to deserve this.

Slowly, with a touch of regret but a stronger glow of satisfaction, Willow drew her hand away from Tara, down into the water. She cupped a handful and brought it up, her fingers again tracing Tara's most intimate place as she washed the soap away. Tara hummed a low note to herself and leant back, angling her hips just a little further towards Willow. Willow's hand lingered for a long moment after the water had drained away, motionless but in delightful contact with Tara. She teased her imagination with how close she was, how little would be required to sink her index finger, resting between Tara's lips, into the velvety depths of her sex.

"Wait," Tara breathed, just as Willow had begun to move her hand away. Willow froze in place as Tara brought her own hand to her arm, trailing down to her wrist.

"I just," Tara breathed, eyes closed, still to all appearances in some other realm of joyfulness, "I just want…to touch your hand… now…there…" Her hand slid onto the back of Willow's, covering it, holding it still against herself. "I-if I were a poet," Tara whispered, "I could tell you how this feels…" After a long, silent moment she let her hand relax just a fraction, and Willow gently moved her fingers to Tara's thigh, stroking her skin before scooping up another handful of water and continuing to wash her.

Willow retrieved the washcloth and ran water over Tara's shoulders, rinsing the soap from her body with loving care. As she reached her waist Tara straightened up on her knees, giving her better access, finally opening her eyes to smile down at Willow as she gently kneaded her bottom and then her thighs. When she was done Tara wordlessly took the cloth from her hand and held it in the water to soak it.

"Close y-your eyes?" she asked in a tiny voice. Willow did so, rewarded a moment later by the sensation of Tara running the wet cloth over her skin. First her shoulders, front and back, then down her arms, then her back, down to her waist, up her sides, down again to her stomach. Willow's lips fell open when the cloth brushed over her breasts, but it was just for a moment, before it ran down her back again, over her bottom with a playful little squeeze, and along her legs. Willow waited for a moment as Tara wet the cloth again, then she felt it soft against her face, as Tara dabbed the corner of it over her brow, her cheeks and her chin. Willow smiled widely at the warmth surrounding her, and her tongue darted out to lick a drop of water from her lips. She felt Tara's fingers, slippery with soap, carefully navigate her face, then the cloth again, washing it away.

Tara started soaping her body, following the same paths Willow had a moment ago. Having felt her touch there before, Willow thought she would be ready when Tara's hands cupped her breasts, but a gasp escaped her as Tara's fingers closed firmly on her, confident and assertive. She leaned back as Tara had, giving herself over to Tara. She felt a thumb and finger close on each of her nipples and lightly pinch them, which forced her mouth wide open as she heaved air into her lungs. Then Tara's hands were moving back down over her stomach onto her legs, squeezing her bottom again in passing, before circling around her knees and moving back up the inside of her thighs.

Willow understood Tara's earlier rapture as she slowly opened her legs for her. She felt completely open, completely helpless, and at the same time perfectly safe and calm. She kept going until her knees nudged up against the sides of the tub, and she could go no further. She felt as though she had somehow exceeded the bounds of reality, as if the world as she knew it, with all its imperfections and compromises, was not capable of containing the pure bliss she felt in the simple act of giving her most private place to her lover, her Tara. She imagined she could feel the warmth of Tara's skin as she neared, and then for the first time in her life she felt the touch of a hand not her own on her sex.

She felt a hundred thoughts all at once. She wanted to be set in stone, immovable, locked in this moment for all time; she wanted to somehow live her entire life without having to let go of the feeling of Tara's hand on her sex, her palm cupping her mound; she wanted to feel Tara's fingers move, slowly and gently, through her folds; she wanted to grab hold of Tara's wrist and drive herself down onto her fingers, to keep Tara inside her forever and ever. Whether by consensus opinion or because of the overriding calm joy she felt, she remained still. Tara's hand stayed with her as she tilted her hips forward and let her head fall back, each breath released from her body accompanied by a soft cry of pleasure.

All too soon she felt Tara's fingers trail away, and then the heat of water against her sex as, for a moment, Tara was touching her again. Then her thighs were being washed clean of soap, and her hips, her bottom, her stomach, breasts and shoulders, and her back. Finally she felt Tara's finger on her chin, inviting her to look up, to open her eyes again. Staring into her eyes, Tara held her hands around Willow's waist and gently straightened her up, until they were kneeling face to face in the cooling water.

"No words," Willow whispered. Tara nodded, and kissed her slowly and deeply, her tongue reaching into Willow's mouth, but moving lazily, taking its time exploring. Willow ran her hands up and down Tara's back, marveling at the perfection of every inch of her, until finally Tara released her lips and rested her forehead on Willow's.

"Y-you want to borrow a towel?" she asked with a sweet smile. Willow smiled, then laughed, and hugged Tara as they stood up together, and didn't let her go until they were both by the fireplace, next to the bench where a selection of thick, fluffy towels were waiting in the warm. They took one each and dried each other, Willow finding it a little easier to keep her mind on the task at hand with several folded layers of towel between her hands and Tara's body as she rubbed her vigorously all over. She smiled as Tara wrapped her towel around her back and pulled her close.

Willow sat in the Baron's court, Tara's hand warm in hers, as they waited for the prisoner to be brought in. She was glad that neither of them would be required to give evidence – she because she had been several miles away when Tara had been attacked, Tara because there were plenty of noblemen of good standing who were witness to it, and the Baron had conveyed through his advisor Franzef that Tara needn't take the stand unless she wished to. On hearing Franzef's assertion that there was no way the case would fail, Tara had decided to merely observe, asking only to be allowed to speak with the Baron before final judgment was passed.

The room was paneled with wood, and dominated by the Baron's throne, where he would sit and pass judgment after the evidence had been presented and the witnesses had spoken. Behind the empty throne a wooden statue of an eagle reared up, its wings carved into the panels behind it, spanning the width of the room. To one side of the Baron's throne, separated from the rest of the room by sturdy steel bars, a plain wooden chair where the accused would sit. Opposite this were places for the master of the court and the accused's defender. Franzef was already sitting there, having taken the role on account of Josef having no-one to call upon. Willow and Tara sat with a handful of witnesses on benches along the back of the chamber.

"There's an Amazon custom," Tara said quietly, as a pair of guards entered the court and stood ready by the empty cell, "where if a warrior is threatened, she always confronts the source of her fear. They say when we're in danger, when someone puts us in danger, is puts fear into us, and we have to look them in the eye to get rid of the fear. Otherwise, even if its source is destroyed, the fear remains." Willow offered an encouraging smile, and squeezed Tara's hand gently. She was pleased to see Tara looking confident, if slightly tense. A few more witnesses and spectators finished seating themselves.

"All rise," called Franzef, as a door in one of the side walls opened and the Baron emerged. He nodded acknowledgement to the room in general and proceeded to his throne, while the witnesses resumed their seats. Franzef remained standing until his opposite number, a white-haired old man in expensive robes, followed the Baron into the room and took his place beside him. The Baron reached out onto the podium in front of him and placed his hand on top of a steel ball resting there. Willow had wondered about that, but its purpose became clear when he lifted it and brought it sharply down on the metal base beneath it, causing a ringing crack.

"Judgment will commence," he said, nodding to the master of the court. The man stood and walked a few paces to the middle of the chamber.

"Bring in the accused," he ordered the guards. One of them pulled a rope a short distance from the cell, which rang a bell on the other side of the wall. A door inside the cell opened and two guards manhandled Josef through, seating him without much gentleness and remaining behind him, short swords drawn. Willow frowned at Josef, studying him – she realized she had wanted him to be some creature of darkness, warped and inhuman, gleeful in his villainy, but he was just a man. He certainly hadn't benefited from his stay in the castle's cells, sporting several days' worth of stubble and dark circles beneath his eyes, but his expression as he stared at the floor before him was simply resignation.

"Baron," the master of the court began, "this man stands accused of attempted murder, his target being both an ally of the realm, and a guest under this roof, enjoying the status and protection thereof." He retrieved a scroll from his bag and presented it to Franzef, who glanced at it and handed it back.

"The accused pleads guilty, and begs the mercy of the court," Franzef said. The Baron turned to the cell and fixed Josef with a formidable glare.

"Is this true?" he asked formally. Josef didn't meet his eye, but nodded humbly.

"Very well," the Baron went on, turning back to Franzef and the master of the court, "the defender will state the case for mercy. The witnesses are excused, if they wish to leave." Willow looked at Tara, who gave her a tight-lipped smile and stayed put. Willow shifted a little closer to her on the bench. She noticed some of the other witnesses leaning back and looking more relaxed, but no-one left the chamber.

"Only that the accused was instructed in his crime by Hydris, at that time mage to the Baron's court," Franzef noted dryly, "a man of much higher rank than the accused, and therefore possessed of a corresponding influence."

"Noted," the Baron replied without feeling. "The case against?" The master of the court stood again.

"The accused is a known outlaw, having committed both theft and brigandage. He accepted Hydris's money readily, and had full knowledge of his actions. If your lordship pleases, documents can be produced telling of his criminal activities in Piotrsberg and Theresenberg. There is a warrant on his head issued by the constables."

"So noted," the Baron said. He glanced once more at Josef in his cell, then looked out over the faces before him. "The accused is guilty by his own admission. The penalty for his crime, as laid down by the law of this realm, is death by hanging. It is my wish, though, that the Amazon nation, whose representative was the target of this cowardly attack, be allowed to take whatever measures it deems necessary to satisfy its own codes of justice."

Tara gaze Willow's hand a quick squeeze, took a deep breath, and stood up. The Baron beckoned her forwards, and Willow watched her intently as she approached his throne.

"M-my lord," she said, raising her voice so everyone could hear, "what punishment would be awarded, if mercy were granted?"

"Having heard this evidence," the Baron said grimly, "this man will never be pardoned. If mercy were called for," he stressed the 'if', "he would be taken to the copper mines near Salzlake. The tunnels are completely mapped, and the guards at the mine among our best. He would be put to work there for the rest of his natural life." Tara nodded, then turned and took a couple of paces towards Josef's cell. He stopped himself from looking up at her as she stood in front of him, close to the bars. Willow held her breath, trusting Tara but anxious for her none the less.

"Look at me," she heard Tara say in a quiet, steady voice. Josef glanced up at her, flinched as he met her stare, and then frowned in confusion at her, as if he had been expecting to be struck dead by her gaze. She leaned a little closer and said something Willow didn't catch, then stepped back and turned towards the Baron again.

"I-I ask for the court's mercy," she said clearly. The Baron looked surprised, and Willow heard astonished muttering from the benches around her.

"This man tried to kill you," the Baron said slowly, as if working his way through a difficult idea.

"Yes," Tara said, "and when he did, I-I was more afraid than I had ever been." She took a moment, then met the Baron's stare with ease. "But I'm not afraid of him now," she said simply.

The pragmatic side of Willow was a little upset – truthfully, the notion that people might be afraid of trying to hurt Tara was one she didn't have much of a problem with – but at the same time she was oddly proud. Tara was smiling faintly as she turned back, without giving Josef another look. Her smile faltered as she looked past Willow, but then she gathered herself and returned to her side. Willow glanced back as Tara was sitting down, and frowned to see von Karlin seated in the back row of benches, scowling at nothing in particular. She took Tara's hand again.

"Judgment is made," the Baron said loudly, "the accused is sentenced to hard labor in the Salzlake mines, the duration being life, with no possibility of release." He brought the steel sphere down once more, striking a spark from the base beneath it. The court stood as he rose from his throne and left the chamber. Willow was glad to see von Karlin leaving without a word.

"I'm okay," Tara replied, seeming a little surprised. "I-I'd already decided to ask for mercy…there's very little serious crime on the islands, and we don't like to put people to death. I-I just thought I'd feel more uneasy about it…I feel kind of good," she finished with a shrug and a grin.

"No," Tara said, "I know the Baron will keep his word…that man won't be able to try to hurt me ever again. I'm not afraid."

Willow paused outside the court chamber, looking pensive. Tara waited with her, studying her expression. Willow had chatted with her as animatedly as usual during lunch, but of course Tara could feel the tension rising in her as the commencement of the afternoon session neared. It had occurred to Tara more than once that she had had the easier confrontation – though Hydris had completely ignored Willow that day, while Tara had had a crossbow fired at her, Willow's fear ran deeper, and could not be so easily assuaged.

Willow took a deep breath and held out her hand, which Tara instantly took, giving Willow a supportive smile when she looked at her.

"Ready," Willow said after a pause. Tara nodded and walked with her into the chamber. It was much as it had been in the morning, with chairs for the master of the court and the defender, empty cell for the accused, and the Baron's throne waiting for him. There were more guards, though, one on either side of the throne, and a pair standing at either end of the foremost of the benches at the back of the chamber, as well as the pair by the cell. Franzef was already seated, now acting as master of the court; he glanced up at Willow and Tara's entrance, but initially betrayed no expression. He had spoken to Willow briefly during lunch, politely reminding her of the importance of the trial, both in the seriousness of its subject, and the necessity to satisfy the Vizjerei investigators, when they eventually arrived, that the case had been heard fairly and justly. He was not permitted to speak to Willow now, in court, except in his official role, but earlier he had quietly wished her well, as well as thanked Tara for her participation in the earlier trial. Tara kept her eyes on him for a moment, watching as he returned his attention to the papers spread out over the top of the case on his knees, and she thought she noticed the shadow of a frown cross his face. He motioned to one of the assistants standing behind him, and wrote a note which he pressed into the boy's hand with a word of instruction. Willow caught Tara's eye, but she could only shrug as the assistant quickly left the chamber.

The doors opened again, and Tara stiffened in her seat when von Karlin, attended by a short, thin boy carrying his case, strode through. He passed by the witness benches, and to Tara's surprise and dismay seated himself beside Franzef, as defender of the accused. Willow's fingers gripped her hand tightly, and she shifted closer to her, laying her spear on the bench, holding Willow's hand in her lap and covering it with her other, gently stroking the back of her hand as she contemplated the implications of this. Willow gave her a quick, grateful smile, but continued to look more than a little apprehensive. A moment later Tryptin quietly made his way into the chamber and sat beside Tara.

"The Baron's advisor just notified me," he said, glancing at von Karlin and speaking quietly, "I imagine he didn't know until he was already in court."

"What's he doing here?" Tara asked, with Willow leaning against her, close to Tryptin so he wouldn't have to raise his voice.

"He approached the Baron and demanded to be appointed defender," Tryptin explained, "it all happened just a few minutes ago. Apparently he's within his rights, the mage is from his family, a cousin or something. I asked one of the nobles just now, he said so far as he knew they hadn't even spoken to each other in years, so I can't imagine why he's involving himself in this."

"The other night, at dinner," Willow whispered, "he did it deliberately, to find out…what?"

"My best guess," Tryptin said after a moment's thought, "is that he's decided Hydris's conviction would be some sort of insult to his family, and you're both to blame. How he hopes to argue that in court, I don't know, I'm sorry."

"Damn," muttered Willow, "he's going to argue we're morally corrupt or something."

"I doubt the Baron will accept that," Tryptin said with a frown. "It would be stretching protocol, but I could still approach him before he enters the court. He does have the right to make a judgment without a trial."

"Willow?" Tara asked. Willow's face was a picture of concentration as she thought furiously.

"No," she whispered at last, "no, there has to be a trial. There's no way Hydris will be pardoned, but if there's no trial the Vizjerei could make things difficult for the Baron. They'll accept his judgment that Hydris was practicing demonic magic, so long as they see a fair trial took place."

"Will you be alright?" Tara asked as Tryptin nodded and hurried off. "He could question you, as a witness." She had thought of giving Tryptin Silverstrike to take back to her room, now that she was present as an observer, not an Amazon warrior, but von Karlin's presence changed her mind. 'Let him remember he's up against a warrior,' she thought.

"I don't care what he says," Willow replied with a stubborn lift of her chin, "I know what I saw." She glanced at Tara, and leaned closer to her, holding her gaze. "And I know what we have together is the most beautiful thing in the world. He can't say anything to change that."

"I love you," Tara said, wishing she could think of something more. 'Two warriors,' she thought, admiring Willow's courage.

"I know baby," Willow replied. The chamber's side door opened, and Franzef shuffled his papers into his case and stood.

"All rise." The Baron entered, looking none too pleased but keeping his eyes fixed firmly ahead. He sat, smoothed down his robes, then took hold of the steel ball and rapped it against its base.

"Judgment will commence." Franzef stood and ordered one of the guards to bring in the accused. From the door within the cell Hydris was brought out, a guard holding each elbow in a firm grip, and a third standing behind him as he was seated, and the door closed. Tara heard the scraping of a bolt being slid home on the other side. She leaned forward slightly, subjecting Hydris to intense scrutiny as she felt Willow's hand tense in hers. If she had walked past him in the street, she might not have even noticed him – his hair was cut short in a common style, graying at the temples, receding from his forehead and thin on top. His nose was hooked but not overly large, his eyes were deep-set but unremarkable in any other way, and his mouth was set in a thin grimace as if he was feeling slightly impatient, but resigned to it. Aside from the fine tailoring of the simple robe he wore – which Tara noticed had darker patches on it where pockets had been removed, revealing the unfaded fabric beneath – he could have been a shopkeeper, or a notary. If the notion of being on trial for his life affected him at all, he didn't show it.

"Not what I was expecting," Willow murmured in Tara's ear. She nodded and returned Willow's hand to her lap, stroking the back of it.

"Baron," recited Franzef, "this man stands accused of consorting with a known brigand; offering payment for crimes; conspiracy to murder, the intended victim being both ally of the realm and guest under this roof enjoying the status and protection thereof; practicing demonic magics, in violation of his oath as mage to the Baron's court, the seriousness of the charge constituting treason against the realm of Kingsport; attempt to inflict harm and attempted murder, the target being a servant of the Baron's household; and inflicting harm on the Baron's guards, they being in the course of carrying out their duty." He opened his case and took out a scroll, which he handed to von Karlin. Von Karlin took a long time reading it, then handed it back without comment.

"The accused is not guilty," he said loudly. The Baron raised a skeptical eyebrow, there was a murmur from the witness benches, and Willow's grip tightened. The Baron stared at von Karlin for a long moment, then turned to Hydris, who didn't appear to be paying any attention to the proceedings around him.

"Is this true?" the Baron asked. Hydris ignored him, his eyes unfocused, blinking now and then as he stared into space.

"The accused chooses to stand mute," the Baron said after a lengthy pause. "Defender, state your case." He sat back in his throne, looking in no way well-disposed towards von Karlin as he took the floor.

"Baron," he began, "witnesses to the court. This man stands accused of attempting to summon a demon," – he said it in a slightly incredulous tone – "and of arranging an attempt on the life of one of our Amazon guests. The first charge is entirely false. The second is true. However," he held up a finger, "as I shall demonstrate, the actions he took were entirely justified, and the court shall uphold the necessity for them."

"And the other charges of attempted murder and inflicting harm?" the Baron asked pointedly, as von Karlin allowed a theatrical pause.

"A minor matter," he said dismissively, "easily explained, which I shall come to in due course. The court will find in the accused's favor." The Baron snorted derisively.

"Master of the court," he said instead, "your charges are disputed. You have the floor." Von Karlin sat back down, glaring at Franzef as he stood.

"Baron," Franzef said, "I cite the testimony of Josef, convicted of the attack on the Lady Tara. In the presence of witnesses of high standing, he identified the accused as the man who paid him the sum of fifty crowns to commit his crime, and promised fifty more should he succeed. Does the defender challenge this testimony?"

"I cite the testimony of the servant Kristanna, employed in the Baron's household, that the accused, on being discovered in the process of conducting a magical ritual, attacked her with intent to kill. Does the defender challenge this testimony?"

"Out of the question," the Baron interrupted. "The… 'incident' left her in a hysterical state. I will not subject her to examination in court."

"Baron," von Karlin protested, "the girl's testimony is inaccurate. How am I to prove this without questioning her?"

"You may state your reasons for challenging the testimony," the Baron allowed, "and I will weigh what you say against the girl's statements."

"I will not be swayed," the Baron insisted, leaning forward. "Be grateful for the leeway I am allowing you." Von Karlin met his stare for a moment, then backed down.

"Yes, Baron," he said, bowing with a tight-lipped smile. "In that case, I would remind the Baron that the lower classes from which this girl comes are fearful and suspicious of magic. They have no contact with true mages, and know only what they hear in children's tales. I suggest that the girl's hysteria was provoked solely by seeing magic being performed, and that the accused followed her from his rooms merely in an attempt to calm her, not attack her."

"The events the defender refers to concern other evidence. I cite the testimonies of Aldus and Gunter, both guards in the Baron's employ, that the accused pursued the girl carrying a knife, which he wielded in a threatening manner, and that when blocked by them he attacked them, wounding Gunter in the leg. Does the defender challenge?"

"Yes," von Karlin said again. "I wish to question the guards." The Baron gestured, and two of the burly men sitting in the witness benched stood and came forward, standing side by side before Franzef and von Karlin.

"Aldus," von Karlin went on, turning away from the other guard, "you say the accused was pursuing this girl Kristanna, and you barred his way, correct?"

"'In a threatening manner,' the master of the court says. Could you describe how one wields a knife in a threatening manner?"

"I see. Suppose you were running, and had your sword in your hand. Would you be holding it at your side as you ran?"

"No," von Karlin repeated. "Now, suppose that the accused merely had the knife in his hand when he was disturbed, and had not put it down in his hurry to follow the distraught girl. Do you think that is possible?"

"Um…" Aldus looked nervous, "I can't say, m'lord. I just know what I saw, which is that I thought he meant to hurt the girl."

"You thought," von Karlin said, stressing the second word, "indeed. Gunter, you were wounded in the ensuing struggle. In your leg? You seem to stand easily enough."

"T'weren't a bad wound m'lord," Gunter said, in a voice an octave lower than his companion's.

"How fortunate. You and your friend here are continuing to fulfill your duties as guards?" Off their nods, he went on: "And tomorrow, you will be leaving us to escort the departing caravan to Duncraig? I understand you two were among those who were dispatched to the city to escort the Amazons here in the first place."

"I see. You are not concerned to leave the castle of your lord at a time when it has no mage?"

"I mean," von Karlin explained, "when there is no mage to assist in the castle's defense, should the need arise?"

"Oh, no m'lord," said Gunter, "no, see, the mage, 'e didn't defend the castle. The guards do that."

"I see. You may go." He turned his back on the two guards as they shuffled back to their seats. "If the Baron pleases, the master of the court will resume his case?"

"Baron," Franzef said, at the Baron's nod, "I cite the testimony of Miss Willow, sorceress of the Zann Esu order, that examination of his rooms found evidence that he had been engaged in a ritual intended to summon or make contact with a demon, and that he had in his possession books and materials of a demonic nature. Does the defender challenge?" he finished with a resigned look.

"Yes," von Karlin said, ignoring Franzef's look, "I wish to question the sorceress."

"Miss Willow?" the Baron asked politely. Tara returned Willow's brief, firm squeeze before she released her hand. Willow stood and made her way to the court floor, glancing at Franzef and the Baron before meeting von Karlin's stare. Tara watched him like a hawk.

"That's right," she answered. Von Karlin waited for a moment, as if expecting a 'sir' or 'my lord', and scowled when it became apparent that he wasn't going to get one.

"And the Vizjerei clan, of which the accused is a member?" he went on, pacing across the floor, keeping his distance from Willow. "Are they too devoted to purity?"

"They are devoted to the protection of this world from demonic forces," Willow said.

"But they don't adhere to the same rules as your order," von Karlin said flatly.

"They don't restrict themselves to elemental magic," Willow clarified, "but they still hold that demons can't be trusted or dealt with in any way."

"I see. You practice only elemental magic because you believe other forms of magic are impure, correct?"

"Yes my lord," von Karlin replied smoothly, "I beg your indulgence. Miss Willow?"

"Other forms of magic are vulnerable to outside influence," Willow answered, "elemental magic isn't."

"A mage cannot be corrupted through elemental magic," Willow said, "other magics carry that danger." Von Karlin frowned, as if he had been hoping for a less measured reply.

"The Vizjerei use certain kinds of prime magic, as well as holy magic, some alchemy some druidic practices, and a weaker form of elemental magic."

"The Zann Esu have studied elemental magic for centuries," Willow replied, "our knowledge of it is greater than the other clans. The Vizjerei use elemental forces in conjunction with prime and holy magic, they don't channel the elements directly.

"It's possible," Willow said. "Holy magic can be corrupted if a demon or another mage influences what the supplicant sees during prayer. Druidic magic is dependant on the purity of the earth from which its power flows – if the earth is corrupted, so is the magic."

"Alchemy isn't a full magic," Willow explained, "it's a combination of lesser magical forces and chemical reactions. It's possible to corrupt the magical component, but only to a small degree. We – the Zann Esu – avoid alchemy just to be sure, but it's not really a source of significant danger."

"Which the other forms are," von Karlin added. "Tell me, how do the Zann Esu feel about the other mage clans? The ones who practice these corruptible magics?"

"How do you mean?" asked Willow, looking as if she expected a verbal assault soon.

"It's my understanding that the Zann Esu existed in strict isolation until very recently," von Karlin explained, "that, in fact, prior to the Reckoning none of the other mage clans even knew that you existed."

"That's true," Willow said, "that was before my time, but yes. We maintained secrecy to be sure that the forces of hell wouldn't learn of our existence."

"And once those forces of hell launched their assault, and failed," von Karlin said, "you have come into the open. Taken your place among your fellow clans. What I wish to know is, what is your place?"

"Yes my lord," von Karlin said quickly. "I will put it plainly, Miss Willow. Yes or no: the Zann Esu consider themselves more powerful than any other mage clan?"

"You see other clans as a weakness, a way for your old enemies the demons to gain power."

"Yes or no, Miss Willow," von Karlin interrupted her, "demons gain power in this world through corrupting members of other clans, correct?"

"And these corrupt mages, being dangerous, are eliminated," von Karlin finished, his voice rising. "Do you know of the order called the Viz-Jaq'taar, Miss Willow?" Willow was silent for a moment, surprise written in her face.

"Has a Mage Slayer ever killed a member of the Zann Esu?" von Karlin snapped. Willow frowned in confusion.

"And lastly, Miss Willow," von Karlin said with a smile that didn't at all reach his eyes, "why have you not stayed in the room given to you by the Baron?"

"Von Karlin," the Baron warned. He glanced at Willow. "You don't have to answer that nonsense," he added. Willow drew herself up straight.

"In Lady Tara's room," she said, staring at von Karlin. He stared back for a moment, then turned to Franzef.

"Very well then," von Karlin said, turning back to Willow. "Oh, before you leave, one last question. You say that the accused's library contained books of a demonic nature. You are sure of this?"

"And the artifacts you identified as being of a dangerous nature," von Karlin went on, "you recognized them as well?"

"And how is it that you know so much about demonic magic, Miss Willow?" von Karlin asked.

"The…Zann Esu have a library of magical books and artifacts," Willow said hesitantly.

"I withdraw the question," von Karlin raised his voice, cutting Willow off. "You may go." Willow hesitated, looked at the Baron, then squared her shoulders and turned from von Karlin.

"Why was he asking all those questions?" Willow muttered. "The assassins, and the Zann Esu, and gods, where I sleep- what's he doing?" Tara could only take Willow's hand again, and hold it tightly. Willow leaned her head on Tara's shoulder and watched von Karlin take the floor again.

"Baron," he said, "I move for the dismissal of all charges." Franzef stared at him in shock; the Baron glared as if suspecting a trap was about to be sprung.

"Simply this," von Karlin said, "the accused is a good man, innocent of any wrongdoing, the victim of a conspiracy between this sorceress and her lover," he sneered the word, "among the Amazons."

"Explain yourself!" the Baron barked, clearly holding his temper by a slim margin. Tara gulped and put her arm around Willow, feeling the tension rise in her body.

"Gladly," von Karlin said mildly. "The accused is a member of the Vizjerei clan, who have served the realms of Westmarch for centuries, yet are hated in the eastern lands where the Zann Esu hold power. These sorceresses keep intimate company with each other, in defiance of proper, moral behavior, yet seek to claim superiority over all others by virtue of their 'pure' magic. They send assassins to weaken the other clans, those who are closer to our realms and our ways, while they hold themselves above judgment. In short, Baron, Miss Willow has manipulated your servants into implicating the accused, when in fact it is she who is the real source of evil!"

"Will you silence me, Baron?" he retorted, standing his ground. "You have it within your power to execute this man, your own mage, without trial. Will you stand before his clan's representatives and tell them you killed one of their own without allowing his defender to speak?" The Baron glared furiously at von Karlin, but said nothing, which von Karlin took as leave to continue.

"This sorceress," he went on, "in collaboration with her Amazon mistress, bought the loyalty of the two guards who claim to have been attacked, who you heard here today admit their contempt for your mage. She arranged a meeting with the accused, in which no doubt she would have 'discovered' his corruption and executed him personally, while hiding behind the authority of the Zann Esu, who can do no wrong. Fearing for his life, the accused hired a man to protect him, but in his naivety failed to take into consideration the unnatural abilities granted to the sorceress's lover. The accused even attempted to expose the corruption in the sorceress's own heart, but she arranged for him to be disturbed before he could complete the ritual to undo her powers, and then her lackeys were nearby to ambush him and fabricate this story of his attacking the servant girl. Then, who else but Miss Willow is called to examine the accused's rooms, and what should she find but the very demonic books and artifacts with which she is so well acquainted!"

"I am doing this for you!" von Karlin insisted, raising his voice. "Your Barony cannot be allowed to be used by these creatures, for their own ends. We must not harbor their kind under our roofs, accept their ways, allow them to turn us against each other!"

"You accuse your own mage," von Karlin yelled, ignoring him, pointing towards Willow, "when the real demon sits there laughing at you!" Tara held Willow tight, her other hand going to the shaft of her spear, as she felt a tremendous urge to slam the butt of it into von Karlin's head.

"Silence!" the Baron boomed. Von Karlin reacted to that, whirling around to glare at the Baron himself.

"Don't let them do this," he said, his voice quieter, "my Baron, can you not see the evil in their hearts? How they are unnatural? You knew what was right once, my Baron, don't let your grief over your daughter-"

The chamber fell silent as the Baron shot to his feet, his jaw working furiously. Tara seriously wondered if he was about to attack von Karlin, the way he glared at him, his hands clenching into tight fists. After a long, dangerous moment he seemed to gain some measure of control over himself.

"How dare you," he said, his voice completely flat and lifeless, "how dare you…"

"You pathetic fool," came a new voice. Everyone, even Willow, who had been staring at von Karlin in complete shock, and Tara, her knuckles white around the shaft of her spear, looked at Hydris, who had finally looked up, and was regarding von Karlin with vague disgust, as if he was a plate of food that had been left in the sun and gone off.

"I can see through you," he said, his voice rising and falling in a chilling sing-song, "every thought. You sickening me. You think you have the right to judge everyone else? You? What do you know of purity? What do you know of hell?"

"I'm doing this for you!" von Karlin hissed, seeming to forget that everyone in the chamber could hear him.

"I never asked you to," Hydris said without feeling. "Let them kill me. I'll go to hell and serve my mistress there."

"I know exactly what I am saying," Hydris snarled. "Better than you ever could. She has shown me, made me accept myself, my true purpose. You think I'm insane? I serve a power greater than you have ever known! What do you serve? What do you live for? You hate your life, despise your fellow men, you feel no warmth, no love…I know all your secrets. Shall I tell you? You cry at night because you enjoy how you feel when you beat your wife. And you seek to judge me?"

"Shut up!" von Karlin hissed, darting forward. He reached through the bars of the cell, and quick as a flash Hydris had grabbed his arm and rammed it sideways against the bars, snapping the bones. The guards stared in shock as von Karlin fell back, clutching his arm which hung at an unnatural angle, as Hydris began to chant in a low, echoing voice. A dark cloud streamed from his mouth, his nostrils, his eyes and ears, swirling into the middle of the chamber, thickening. The Baron shouted, Tara was on her feet, swinging Silverstrike around one-handed to aim at the darkness, Willow's grip was almost painfully tight in her other hand, she felt a chill and something blue and icy passed in front of her eyes-

There was a sound, like a plough digging into wet soil, and the darkness vanished. Tara took a deep, cold breath and looked at Hydris. He squinted, as if trying to see through a fog, and coughed quietly, bringing up a trickle of blood. Behind him, the guard's hand trembled on the hilt of the short sword piercing his back between the shoulder blades, slicing down through his chest from behind. The guard sucked in a breath and pulled the sword free, leaving Hydris to sink to his knees, his head coming to rest against the bars of his cell, eyes staring lifelessly at von Karlin, who was still whimpering on the floor in front of him.

Tara slowly became aware of the strange cold she was feeling, and looked down at herself. An aura of icy mist was wrapped around her body, tiny particles of blue light swirling through it. It moved as she did, as she turned back to look at Willow. It was coming from her, flowing across her body, out along her arm and over their joined hands to envelop Tara. Willow was staring at the air where the darkness had been, unblinking. Tara slowly sat back down next to her, putting her arm back around her waist and pulling her close. Willow swayed into her embrace, but just kept staring, her breathing coming in short gasps, as if she was silently, invisibly crying.

"Willow," Tara whispered, her voice taking on a strange sound inside the chill, "it's over. It's okay now, Willow." Willow very slowly turned and looked at Tara, as if she didn't understand.

"You're safe now," Tara said gently, "it's over. I've got you." Willow blinked, and the mist faded into the air.

"Tara," she whispered, her lips trembling. She jumped and threw her arms around Tara as the Baron's voice sounded.

"Dieter," he said to the guard still staring at his bloody sword, "you acted with my approval. Report to the master-at-arms. You two," he added to the other guards in the cell, "take that and bury it. Franzef-" The Baron hesitated as his advisor came to his side. He took a deep breath and went on, in a quiet voice that nevertheless carried through the still chamber. "Have von Karlin taken to the hospital wing. Keep him confined. Send guards to his house. Go with them. Talk to his wife. If you suspect ill-treatment… just bring her here." He looked out around the chamber, glancing at the guards dragging Hydris's body away, and at von Karlin, leaning weakly on the shoulder of another guard as he was escorted away. He met Tara's helpless stare, and his face fell even more at the sight of Willow huddled against her side, her face buried in Tara's hair, holding onto her tightly.

Willow was quiet through dinner, and Tara let her be, simply sitting beside her, keeping a hand in hers, or resting gently on her lower back as they ate. Tryptin, once he returned from being briefed by the Baron, sensed that the best thing he could do was stay out of the way. He kept himself to a couple of necessary questions before leaving the common room again. Once or twice Willow managed a little smile for Tara, and Tara smiled back, though she could see the haunted look still in Willow's eyes.

When they finished dinner Tara took Willow gently by the arm and led her to the bedroom. Willow crossed to the bed while Tara turned to close the door, but when she turned back Willow was just standing there to one side of the bed, staring down at the floor. Tara stood behind her and touched her shoulder, relieved that she didn't flinch away from the touch.

"I-I'm sorry," Willow said in a tiny whisper, "I'm so sorry…" Tara moved to her side so she could see her face. Willow's features were twitching as if she was trying to keep herself from sobbing, and not entirely succeeding.

"No, baby," Tara said soothingly, hugging Willow tightly, "you don't have to be sorry about anything, not anything baby…"

"I was-" Willow said, her words coming in gasps, "I wanted… so much…a-and I know you did too- but I can't…"

"Willow," Tara said quietly, "it's okay. We'll sleep. I'll hold you." Willow glanced up at Tara's eyes, blinking quickly, her eyes full of unshed tears.

"Always, baby," Tara murmured. "Come on." She gently sat Willow down and took off her boots, and then her clothes. She hesitated when she came to Willow's bra, but Willow nodded, and then tugged a little at the waistband of her underwear until Tara slid them down her legs and off. Tara felt nothing sexual – she was still awed at Willow's beauty, but her mind was fixed on a single purpose, her beautiful Willow was hurting, and she had to make it right. She lay Willow down and pulled the blankets up over her, tucking her in tenderly. Following her lead Tara stripped off all her clothes, padding around the room naked to put out the candles and close the shutters. She slipped underneath the blankets and reached out for Willow, drawing her into a loving embrace, curling up against her back and surrounding her with her arms. She felt the tension in Willow, and held her tightly.

"Let it out, baby," she whispered in her ear, "I'll keep you safe." Willow turned over, trembled, then let out a sob, and another, and then she was crying as hard as her body could bear. Tara felt the tears wet her shoulder as Willow's body was wracked by sobs, and she too cried, silently and without disturbing Willow by moving, simply letting the tears slide down her cheeks. Willow clung to her, and cried as if she had to shed enough tears to moisten all the deserts in the world, and Tara did the only thing she could think of. Quietly, almost below hearing, she began to sing, an old song she had learned from Jenavria, when she had been very small and the young woman had been taking care of her. It was an ancient song, which Jenavria had learned from Eponin, and Eponin from her mother Jilorra, and so on back through the generations, a song telling of the birth of the Amazon nation. It was High Amazonian, which Willow didn't know, but Tara had always liked listening to the song, even before she had learned the old language – the gentle, steady rhythm of the words always calmed her, and it slowly calmed Willow too. Her sobs quietened, and at last she lay still against Tara, her breathing slow and steady like Tara's song. Tara kept singing, verse after verse, long after Willow had fallen asleep, watching over her dreams, until her words became murmurs, and she too fell asleep.

Willow woke to Tara lightly stroking her cheek. She smiled, tilted her head towards her hand, and stretched, feeling Tara's legs against the backs of hers.

"Willow," Tara murmured in reply. Willow shifted slightly and lay on her back, grinning up at Tara, who propped up her head with her hand and watched her.

"First time in a while I've woken up without you feeling me up," Willow joked. Tara bit her bottom lip and gave her a suggestive wiggle of her eyebrows.

"Well, I was when I woke up," she admitted, "but I thought I'd let you sleep in. I got breakfast," she added, reaching behind herself. Her hand returned with a bread roll, already filled with cheese and tomatoes, with little raising peeking out of the crust. She offered the tip to Willow, who obediently bit into it.

"Mmm, s'good," she chewed, "'ow 'ong ev…'ait a 'o-ent," she swallowed. "How long have you been up?" she tried again.

"Not long," Tara said, tickling Willow's nose with the bread roll before offering her another bite, "but breakfast happened early. Most of the emissaries are busy packing their gear, and Tryptin's downstairs with the caravan master getting everything ready to move."

"Not for a little while," Tara smiled, "Melcan offered to get everything onto our wagon, so there's only our clothes and your books still up here."

"Aw," Willow groaned, "that was a really nice waking-up. Seems like a pity not to take advantage of it."

"Yeah," Tara blushed. "D-do you think you prefer cheek-stroking, or breast-holding to wake up with?"

"Tricky," Willow frowned in thought, "there's point in favor of both…you know, I think I'll just vote for you touching me in general, and leave the details up to you."

"Thank you," Willow insisted, "you…You know, I was dreaming, and I could hear her voice. Shadai, I mean, laughing like I heard in the court." Tara immediately lay closer to Willow, one arm resting over her chest, her hand on Willow's shoulder, and her leg lying over Willow's thighs. "But it was okay," Willow went on, "because I could hear you too, your song. You know, the one you sang to me last night…I heard it, and it kept me safe. You kept me safe. Just like you promised."

"It's like my dream," Willow said slowly, "I…it happened, and it was bad. But you're here, so I feel safe. It's just a memory now. I-I'm glad I cried, last night…you know, I never did until then, not like that. It felt like I was letting go of this huge weight I'd been carrying all this time." Tara smiled at her, sadness and hope mingling in her expression.

"Oh, Tara, you did so much more than help," Willow insisted, holding Tara's hand against her skin, "you- I don't know what I would've done without you. You make me feel safe, and loved, and, and every moment I have with you is so beautiful…everything I thought I lost, you're giving back to me. A-and not even an evil mage can take that away."

"You are," Willow whispered, "you're an angel." The way Tara blushed was more than Willow's self-restraint could bear, and she snuck her other arm beneath Tara's waist, pulling her closer.

"C'mere, my angel," she purred. She gently but firmly guided Tara until she was atop Willow, straddling her hips. Willow smiled and arched her back a little, fully enjoying the way Tara's breasts covered hers, seeming to envelop her chest in softness as she put her other hand behind Tara's back and hugged her close. Tara kissed her, running her tongue over Willow's lips and then inside, both of them moaning at the pleasure. Tara slowly leaned back, craning her neck to hold onto the kiss until the last possible second, then rising to kneel over Willow, smiling down at her.

"Like what you see?" she said in a sultry murmur. Willow could only nod dumbly as she watched Tara's hands stroke up the length of her body from her thighs and finally come to her breasts, which she cupped and held up, each nipple caught between thumb and forefinger.

"All yours, baby," Tara whispered, lightly pinching her nipples, which were already as hard as they could possibly be. She let go of herself and reached for Willow's hands, guiding them up as she leant back down. She supported herself with an arm on either side of Willow and licked her lips as Willow took the weight of her breasts in her palms, gently kneading and squeezing them.

"Not too much," she said in a breathless whisper, "we don't have long…just enough…so I can feel your hands on me…all day…" Willow nodded, awash with pleasure at the feel of Tara's breasts in her hands. Their size, so much more abundant, more womanly than her own, their weight in her hands, their incredible softness. She tore her eyes away to see Tara's face, and was entranced by her expression, her lips open and glistening, her eyes half-closed, a flush of excitement in her cheeks. She convinced herself to release Tara's breasts, putting her arms around her and gently pulling her closer.

"Something to remember all day," she promised. She craned her head up and forward just enough to catch Tara's right nipple with the tip of her tongue. She ran her tongue slowly along the short length, excited beyond measure at the sudden, delighted moan that came from deep in Tara's throat, then turned to her other breast and tasted that nipple as well. She let her head fall back to the pillow and looked up at Tara, who had closed her eyes and let her jaw hang open. She seemed to take a moment to gather her wits, then lay herself down on top of Willow.

"I just want to warn you," she breathed into Willow's ear, "if I kiss you now, it's going to be the kind of kiss that'll make both of us explode with frustration when we have to get up in a minute." She lifted her eyes to Willow's, waiting for a response.

"Well I think you'd better kiss me then," Willow said, "I don't know about you, but I'd rather explode than miss this."

"Me too," Tara said quickly, then she captured Willow's lips in a searing, furious, deeply sensual and utterly passionate kiss. It was the kind of kiss Willow was growing to love, when her shy Amazon locked her lips to Willow's and demanded absolute surrender, which Willow immediately gave. Tara's lips felt blazing hot against hers, and her tongue darted into and around her mouth with such agility that Willow wondered, with whatever remained of her mind that hadn't made itself a conduit directly between her mouth and her sex, whether there was some sort of special Amazon tongue trick that Tara had learned. She offered her own, moaning continuously as Tara lavished attention on it, drawing it into the heated confines of her mouth and caressing its whole length. She could feel her hips moving by themselves, and could muster only just enough self-control to keep from reaching down and sending herself beyond the point of no return. 'Or better yet,' she mused giddily, 'have Tara do it… those long, nimble fingers of hers…' Willow's fleeting fantasy came perilously close to doing the job for her, and the wonder that Tara could do this to her, with just a kiss, was the last thought she had for some time.

Finally, tortuously, Tara released Willow's lips and lay her head down on her shoulder. Willow breathed in great gulps of air, letting out a little exclamation of pleasure with each breath she released.

"Oh Willow," Tara whispered, chuckling as she spoke, "goddess…you're going to drive me mad…if I don't do it first…"

"Me?" protested Willow feebly, giggling. "That was all you… what did I do? I just lay here like a good little sorceress while a frenzied Amazon ravaged me."

"Oh, you did plenty," Tara assured her. "Your lips, your tongue…goddess, kissing you is like…like…it must be what a soul feels when it's born, when life begins."

"There's a bright light, and someone whacks you on the back?" Willow asked innocently. Tara burst out laughing.

"Ah," she sighed, when her laughter finally subsided, "my beautiful lady…I love you."

"If we wait any longer,' Tara said, "they'll have to drag us down to the courtyard and toss us in the wagon still wrapped in our blankets."

"Do you think they would?" Willow asked. "It's cozy in here, it'd be nice to stay. Is there more of that bread roll?"

Willow and Tara arrived in the castle courtyard to find the caravan in a state of considerable activity. Eight more wagons had been added to the six that had set out from Kingsport, five of them bearing the emblem of Duncraig, a heraldic shield with a stallion rearing up on one side and an eagle on the other, on great canvas sheets sewn to the wagon covers with sturdy leather strips. Servants were hurrying about, loaded down with baggage and provisions, and a contingent of guards, Kingsport and Duncraig, were massing by the stables, readying their horses. Melcan was standing by Willow and Tara's wagon as they neared.

"Greetings ladies," he said, "Master Tryptin's greetings, he's busy with the caravan master, and would you both see the Baron in his office once your gear is stowed? I'll keep watch on the wagon."

"Thanks," Willow said, as Tara nodded and climbed up into the back of the wagon, taking their bags and Willow's book satchels as they were handed to her and putting them wherever they seemed to fit in the interior. It was a bit more cramped than she remembered, with one side half-full of tightly-strapped sacks containing provisions for the journey, but she estimated there would still be enough room with everything aboard for her and Willow to sleep side by side comfortably, given the close embrace they had defaulted towards the last few nights. 'Plenty of room,' she thought 'with her on her side, me behind her…and the driver will be sleeping in one of the other wagons at night.' She smiled at that line of thought and jumped back down to the ground, taking Willow's hand as they walked back towards the keep.

"What makes you think I'm thinking anything?" Tara replied in her best innocent voice.

"The way you're holding my hand," Willow said, "fingers intertwined, thumb brushing the side of my wrist…makes me think you're thinking something I'd like." Tara looked down at their joined hands.

"I hadn't even realized I was doing that," she said with a laugh. "But, as it happens, yes…it's more cramped in the wagon than before, I doubt there'll be room to sleep with any space between us."

"That's a pity," Willow said with a look that said she didn't regret it one bit, "I guess we'll have to snuggle up tight at night. To conserve space."

The guard outside the Baron's office nodded at Willow and Tara as if he'd been expecting the, and opened the door for them. The Baron was, as usual, at his desk reading. He looked up, and closed the book, standing and coming around the desk to greet them.

"Lady Tara," he said with a smile, "Miss Willow…I regret you are not staying with us longer."

"Y-your hospitality has been most welcome, sir," Tara added. 'Particularly the decent-sized beds,' she thought, 'I'm going to miss that.' The Baron nodded and frowned to himself.

"Gracious of you to say so," he said, "and I thank you, but I know your stay here has been far from enviable. As your host, I feel I am in both your debts, for your help during this trouble, and your most forgiving conduct. You have been my guests, and it was my responsibility to see that you were safe here."

"Baron," Tara said hesitantly, "w-we have a saying, among warriors: 'even a great leader is just a woman.' Um, man, in this case. Your conduct as our host has been generous and honorable. Amazons don't ask for more than that."

"A-and you have taken responsibility for them," Tara countered. "You've shown yourself to be a formidable leader. It wasn't weakness on your part that allowed Hydris to do what he did, so the blame isn't yours."

"That goes for me too," Willow added. "Despite everything that's happened, I'm glad to have been your guest. Sir," she finished. Tara grinned, and even the Baron managed a smile.

"You're very kind," he said. "You should know that Lord von Karlin remains under guard here. I intend to look into his family in detail, and pass his title on to whoever among them may prove fit for it. As for the man himself…that remains to be decided. I understand his mental state is not good. He is angry, bitter…he voices it at some length, but he often makes no sense. I think perhaps his pride had undone him, and that he cannot accept how very wrong he was. When he has recovered, there will be another trial, to determine whether he knowingly lied to the court, or whether he truly believed what he said. He will never hold a title again, that much is certain." The Baron turned and gazed out of the windows, staring at the countryside bathed in the morning sun. Willow glanced at Tara, but after a warm smile she returned her attention to the Baron, sensing that he had more to say.

"He was mad, I think," the Baron mused, "but much of what he said…his vitriol against your intimacy…oh, forgive me if I assume too much, but you are…you have shared a room these past nights? You share feelings…?"

"We're in love," Tara said, surprising herself – not by speaking the truth, but by saying it so plainly in front of the Baron. Willow beamed at her and squeezed her hand, and made no move to let go. The Baron half-turned, a sad smile on his face.

"You are brave to say so," he said. "I did not always realize what a foolish notion it was, that love, of all things, could be thought a sin. Von Karlin was not alone in that, you understand. Women sharing feelings as you do is not something that has ever been condoned in these lands, and there have been times when people were actively persecuted. I have tried to set an example for my court, and through them my people, but such sentiments do not vanish overnight. I cannot imagine what it must be like…to be hated for the greatest blessing a being can receive."

"I am glad," the Baron said, "perhaps I have done some good after all. There is something I wish you two to see. If you would?" He crossed the study to a door behind Franzef's vacant desk, and opened it for Willow and Tara. Beyond they found themselves in a smaller study, obviously a private room as opposed to the outer study which might be visited by anyone meeting with the Baron on business. Tara glanced at the shelves nearest her, noting that many of the books stored there were histories, books of art, books of philosophy – the Baron's private library, kept for his own enjoyment, not as an aid to ruling his realm. The Baron left the door open behind them and crossed the small room, coming to a portrait covered in a velvet cloth, positioned so that it would be visible from the padded reading chair up against the opposite wall by the fireplace.

"My daughter, Elisabeth," the Baron said, unveiling the painting. It was of a girl, almost old enough to be a woman, with golden blond hair and an impish smile. She held a short bow in one hand no her lap, and something about the way she was sitting indicated restlessness, as if she could think of many things more interesting to do that sit for a portrait.

"Von Karlin mentioned her to me yesterday, in defense of his preposterous allegations. I believe it is right that you know why he did that. She had just turned sixteen when this was painted," the Baron went on, "and not long after this, she left. I do not know where she is now, though she sends letters occasionally. She left three years and eight months ago. You'll forgive me if I sit? I am not as young as I once was, and these last few days have not found me sleeping well." He nodded his thanks to Willow and Tara as he sat down in the reading chair, gazing up at the painting.

"I drove her away," he said after a moment's silence. "Not intentionally, of course – she was willful, and a holy terror when she was a little thing." He smiled a fond smile. "I was very proud of her. I had determined that she would be my heir, you see. If I had had a son, even if he were a younger child, he would have been heir, but when she was born, and my wife held her in her arms, I decided I would devote myself to loving this one child. My wife was ill for some time after the birth, and though she recovered, the doctors said that another child might be dangerous for her, so she agreed that our Elisabeth would be our sole heir. And heir to the realm.

"I was so proud of myself – arrogant, I see now – when I explained to her, in this very room, with that portrait still newly-painted, how she would not have to endure a marriage of policy, as many noble daughters do. The laws of this realm, archaic laws, gave me the power to choose a husband for her, but I would not allow it. I told her, you are becoming a woman now, and the choice shall be yours. I explained to her how the sons of noblemen from the realm and beyond would send her letters, and visit with hopes of courting her, and that she should choose from them, or not at all, as her heart decided. Or if she found happiness with another, even a young man without a drop of noble blood in his veins, I said to her, let it be so, and I would see that he would be her husband, and be damned to all who protested.

"I felt so pleased with myself, that I was being a good father to her. And, you know, she looked at me with such affection…she looked at me as if I had given her the greatest gift she had imagined. And then she told me she was in love, with the daughter of the castle's falconer, a girl named Fionne. They had been inseparable, you know, for five years – the girl had her father's gift for hawks. Elisabeth used to go with her out onto the battlements and watch her fly a peregrine – ladies are supposed to fly merlins, they say, but the peregrine was her favorite. My Elisabeth told me she was in love with Fionne." Willow and Tara remained silent, watching as the Baron stared back through the years.

"I had no idea," he said, "I knew they spent so much time together, but I thought it friendship. The idea that my daughter could fall in love with a woman…I explained to her, quite calmly, that it was impossible for her to be with Fionne, or any woman. I told her that true love would lead to marriage and family, and that with a woman she could have neither. I told her that I was not angry with her, or disappointed, but that she would have to recognize that the feelings she had were foolish, and that one day she would know love, and take a husband, and they would be happy. And then I told her that it would be best if she did not see Fionne any more." A lonely tear trickled down his cheek. "Gods help me, she obeyed. And when I made arrangements for Fionne's father to go to the court at Perschell, far west of here, she said not a word in protest. I was…relieved. I congratulated myself on my handling of the situation, and looked forward to seeing my daughter move on with her life and be happy. And I never once realized what I had done to her. I had told her to give up her love, and though it tore out her heart she had done it. Because I was her father, and she loved me, no matter that I was a narrow-minded old fool.

Not long after, rumors began to circulate about her – perhaps one of the servants talked about her relationship with Fionne, I don't know. And one day, at a dinner, a man not unlike von Karlin, a nobleman of some prestige, joked about it. He insulted my dear, beautiful daughter, with her sitting their right next to me, and laughed as though he had done nothing. And there were some at the table who looked to me, to see if I would speak against him, but I did nothing. I worried that I might be seen to be endorsing my daughter's mistake, as I thought of it, and I was silent. She was so brave…how she sat beside me, kind and respectful, when I had betrayed her so, I will never know. That night she told me she loved me, as she always did, when I tucked her in to sleep. The next morning she was gone – some of her books, her traveling gear, her bow and her horse.

"Of course I searched for her, but she was a strong rider, and knew all that I did about covering her tracks. I thought she had made for Perschell at first, but there was no sign of her on those roads. My wife knew what had happened, and why, but like my daughter, she loves me so she forgave me, even when I did not deserve it. Eventually a letter came from my Elisabeth, from somewhere in Khanduras, though I don't know where. She writes now and then, because she knows her mother would worry about her otherwise, and for my sake, because she takes pity on a foolish old man. She has joined an order there, women who devote themselves to protecting the weak and defenseless. She tells me she is happy." The Baron stared at his daughter's portrait for a moment, then seemed to come back to the present, glancing at Willow and Tara.

"I wanted you to know this," he said, "because I'm sure these last few days will not be the last time you encounter people who would condemn you for the bond you share. I know you are both women of great courage and determination, and I have seen with my own eyes that you will not be cowed by the small-minded thoughts of frightened old fools. But even so, it will weigh heavily on you. I hope your burden may be made lighter, if you remember that many of those who ignore the truth of your love are just timid old men, as I was. I wish you both happiness and good fortune on your journey, and in your life." He rose from his chair and bowed to Tara, then to Willow.

"Baron," Tara said as he was showing them out of the study, "I-I know it's not my place to speak for her…but maybe, if your daughter writes to you, and wants you to know she's well, and happy…perhaps she's forgiven you? Y-you should forgive yourself, too." She gave the Baron a sincere look, and Willow added a hopeful smile.

"I will…consider what you have said," he replied. "Perhaps, one day, I shall be able to."

"That's so sad," Willow said, once she and Tara had returned to the courtyard. Tara was rummaging through the baggage stored in one of the cargo wagons.

"They teach us a little about what it's like in the Western Kingdoms," she said, "just in case we ever have to travel. At lot of things we take for granted in the islands are strange here, and sometimes even good people can be very frightened of what they're not familiar with."

"I wonder if it's harder for the noblemen," Willow wondered, "all the people down in the village just didn't seem to care that we were together. I suppose they've got enough to worry about, with harvests and things. I guess seeing a couple of women kissing isn't so bad compared to losing a crop that has to feed you for the winter."

"You're probably right," Tara said, "that's how it was with us – Amazons, I mean. We've always had to defend ourselves, and work hard to get enough food, and shelter all our people. It's only recently that we can really say the islands are safe, and we've got enough crops to make sure everyone has enough to eat. So we accept whatever love comes into our lives, or the lives of those around us."

"It's a good way to go about it," Willow observed, "I hope it spreads. What're you looking for?"

"We brought along a bunch of spares," Tara said to herself, heaving a sack out of the way to get at a bundle wrapped in leather, "here we go…" She unwrapped the bundle and drew out an unstrung bow, similar to her own though with less ornamentation. She handed it to Willow as she replaced the baggage in the wagon.

"Where's Stefan?" she asked. Willow glanced around, finally spotting the archery master over near the outer wall, talking with some of the guards who would be accompanying the caravan. She pointed him out to Tara, who has strung the bow with a string from her belt. She took Willow's hand and they walked through the caravan, dodging servants and horses, until they reached the wall.

"Hello Stefan," Tara said. She hesitated for a moment, then held out the bow. "I-I want you to have this. You and your family have made us both feel very welcome here. I wanted to give you something to show our gratitude." Stefan took the bow, staring intently at it, as a craftsman inspecting a fine piece of work.

"I'm truly honored," he said, "this is remarkable workmanship…you're sure you can spare it?"

"Of course," Tara said. Behind them, somewhere among the wagons, a horn sounded.

"Well, you've made me very happy," Stefan said, "safe journey to you. And if you should ever come back this way, our home is your home." Willow and Tara thanked him again before returning to the caravan, climbing inside their wagon as the drivers and riders began to move out, forming a line of wagons and baggage carts as they passed through the castle gate.

"You know, I'm going to miss this place," Willow said wistfully, staring back out of the open flap at the back of the wagon, at the castle as they slowly moved away from it. "Even with all the stuff that happened… this is where I really let myself love you. Not that I'm going to stop," she added hastily, "no siree…just, you know, good memories. Our first kiss…even better, our second kiss, oh my gods…where did you learn to kiss like that, anyway?"

"You inspire me," Tara said with a broad grin. She leaned over and pulled the flap down, leaving the two of them separated from the world outside, with only the rocking of the wagon, the glow of sunlight on the canvas roof, and each other for company.

"I know what you mean," Tara murmured, moving over on her knees to sit beside Willow, resting her chin on her shoulder with both arms around her waist. "Lots of good memories. But it's a long way to Duncraig," she shrugged, "plenty of time to make lots more."

Tara sat on the tailboard of the wagon and watched the scenery slowly go by as she methodically worked bramble oil into the length of her unstrung bow. Willow was inside, rearranging the baggage and satchels for the fifth time, and seeing as Tara didn't know what particular arrangement she was trying for, she had elected to keep out of the way. Twice so far Willow had poked her head out of the canvas flap at the back of the wagon, the first time to give Tara a quick kiss on the back of her neck, the second to assure her that she was 'almost done.' Tara smiled at her lover's enthusiasm, and used the time to complete a few menial tasks, such as keeping her bow in top condition.

"Sure," Tara said, holding the bow up and looking along its length, studying how the sunlight glinted off the treated wood.

"Well then, your carriage awaits," Willow said with a wink. Tara lifted the flap and climbed inside to find the wagon substantially transformed. The wooden floor was covered in blankets, and beneath them, when Tara lifted a corner to find out, were the spare bedrolls and soft leather sheets the caravan had brought along in case of the loss of some of their supplies, or damage to one of the wagons. With a double layer of blankets over the top of them, thick, strong wool and then a thinner, softer layer on top, Willow had created the most comfortable sleeping surface Tara could have asked for, short of emptying the wagon and hauling a real bed inside. Their luggage and provisions were securely stored on either side, up against the sides of the wagon, lashed down to keep them from moving. At the front the wagon's share of the caravan's bulk supplies, in wooden crates and heavy hessian sacks, were stowed up against the back of the headboard, with a few spare bedrolls and several thick rolled-up blankets covering them, to serve as a comfortable back to lean against, as Willow was doing. Tara glanced around, Willow's thought for detail not lost on her. Her spear was stowed securely behind the luggage on one side, safe from falling loose but available at a moment's notice. Willow's satchels were piled between a pair of baggage sacks, easily accessible. Rolled up and secured with leather straps on the other side of the makeshift bed were enough blankets to replace the wagon's bedding, so they could change the blankets and wash the old ones whenever they wanted. Willow had even left one of the crates uncovered at one side, up against the edge of the headboard, to leave easy access to the flap at the front of the wagon leading onto the driver's seat outside.

"Well," Willow said, sitting up and shuffling over to Tara's side, staying on her knees to keep from bumping her head on the struts holding the roof up, "I was thinking it's still a month to winter, and we're pretty far south as well, but there's all this extra gear for when the caravan goes on from Duncraig up towards Khanduras where it's colder. You know, all the blankets, and those leathers, in case they run into a snowstorm or something. So I thought, what's the point of having all that just rolled up and getting in the way? And then I thought, what could be better than traveling all the way to Duncraig with my beautiful Amazon warrior in our own cozy little love nest?"

"Well, maybe it's not quite that big," Willow admitted, stretching out next to Tara, "but it's the next best thing to a real bed, provided you don't mind sleeping really close. Which I don't," she finished with an impish smile. Then her expression turned forlorn. "I wish we could've stayed a few more days in the castle."

"Yeah," Willow said with a half-smile, "but, you know, now we're stuck here for two weeks, a-and much as I love being this close to you… it's a bit cramped for what I'd, you know, like to be doing."

"Hey, baby," Tara murmured, "it's okay. I'm okay with waiting until we've got a proper room, and a real bed."

"Me too," Willow insisted, "of course…it's just that…I was really looking forward to it, last night, and then with everything that happened…and I know you were too…"

"Willow," Tara said, quietly but firmly, "it's alright. I was looking forward t-to…making love," she blushed and grinned, "of course. But it wouldn't have been right. Not then. You needed me to hold you and make you feel safe."

"It just seems unfair," Willow complained, "you're so kind and caring, and baby I love you so much, but you had to go to sleep, you know… unsatisfied. After we'd already decided to-"

"No, Willow," Tara insisted, "I wasn't unsatisfied, I promise I wasn't. Just as much as you needed me to comfort you, I needed to as well. I saw you hurting, and I just had to hold you, and try to make it better. I-I went to sleep knowing I had done everything I could to help you, to make you feel safe after what happened. That's really important to me, and it meant more to me than just being able to experience some release. That wasn't important right then. I promise you, Willow, I wish things had happened differently, but there's nothing you could have done that would have made me feel more in love with you than I do right now."

Willow smiled up at her, with unshed tears in her eyes, and then buried her face in Tara's chest as she hugged her fiercely.

"I love you too, baby," Tara purred, stroking Willow's hair. Willow held her for a moment, then relaxed her arms, though she didn't remove them from Tara's waist, and let her head fall sideways, pillowed on Tara's left breast.

"How do you always know what to say to make me feel better?" she asked rhetorically. "You're an angel, baby, you really are." Tara smiled fondly down at her.

"So when sorceresses meet angels," she said with innocent curiosity, "do they always bury their faces in their bosom like that?" Willow laughed.

"It's a truly angelic bosom," she retorted, "so yes, I don't see how they'd be able to resist the temptation. I can't," she added, emphasizing her point by again pressing her face between Tara's breasts. Tara was very glad she had chosen to wear her lighter leather armor, without the high neckline.

"Um, Tara?" Willow asked, once she had again extracted herself. "I was wondering…I know it's a bit cramped in here, but if you wanted to…I mean, we could make love? Not right now, obviously, but maybe in the evening…?"

"I was kind of picturing a big bed," Willow admitted, "but I think with you I could be perfectly happy if we were lying in a puddle in the middle of a field…A-and last night I was worried, you know, well, of course you know, I was worried about how long it would take for me to feel, well, good, but I do. I really do, I feel the way I did before the court happened. So, um, yes, I'd be absolutely okay with that. Um, what do you think?"

"I think," Tara said slowly, "well, I know I-I want to make love to you more than I've ever wanted anything all my life…but you're right, it is kind of cramped, and…well, this will be our first time. If you can wait a little longer, I'd like it to be in a real bed as well."

"Okay," Willow said, hugging Tara tightly again, "okay…I'd like that too. A-and you're right, for our first time I'd have felt a bit, you know, like it wouldn't really have been proper until we got to a bedroom, and we can do all the things I've been imagining…"

"Well, I've got a couple of ideas of my own," Tara replied, "and I think they're worth waiting a couple of days for. We're due to get to the next town then, we'll see what our sleeping arrangements are like."

"So we might not have to wait until we get to Duncraig?" Willow said excitedly. "Well yay! How about that for having our cake and eating it?"

"I'm not planning on eating cake," Tara purred seductively. Willow looked curious for a moment.

"Oh," she said, blushing, "oh, yeah, um…well, we definitely need a proper bed, 'cause I think I'm going to be doing a fair bit of energetic writhing around."

"Yes you are," Tara promised, "and we could do with walls a bit more solid than canvas, too."

"Because I can tell by the way you're looking at me," Tara explained in a sensual murmur, "that I'm going to be moaning at the top of my lungs." Willow leant into Tara's cleavage and gave her a soft, playful nip on her breast, which made her wriggle delightfully, before settling down next to her and half on top of her.

"Me too," Willow said. "It might not be always easy, but it's for the best. And hey, it doesn't mean we can't see what it's like making love in a caravan wagon later on. I'm sure it has its points."

"It may at that," Tara mused. "What do you think would be better, at night when we're stopped, or during the day when we're moving? Or we could try both. What do you think?" She gave Willow a warm smile.

"I don't think there's ever going to be a dull moment," Willow said, smiling back.

"Not if I can help it," Tara promised. "Maybe one day we could test your theory and see what it's like making love in a puddle in the middle of a field?"

"That's fine with me," Tara murmured, "I don't have any plans that don't involve being with you for a long, long time."

"Me too, baby," Willow said, "in fact…I-I know we're young, a-and all that, but still…I-I can't imagine ever wanting to be with anyone else."

"Mmm, in fact, I could spend my whole life right here," she said, closing her eyes and fully enjoying the softness of Tara's chest beneath her cheek. They lay together in content silence for a moment, before Willow opened her eyes and fixed Tara with a curious gaze.

"I meant to ask you earlier," she said, "what language was that song you sang to me?"

"It's really beautiful," Willow said, "and you've got such a perfect singing voice…do all Amazons speak that?"

"We learn it before we come of age," Tara explained, "children usually start learning it when they're fourteen or so, but it takes a while to master. We use Westlin normally, it's more flexible, but the old language is important to us. The way it sounds, the way it's put together, it defines who we are. It's a very structured language."

"It's the way the language is," Tara said, "to love is to recognize beauty. Te'la doesn't just mean you're attractive, it means you have beauty in your soul. You deserve love."

"I like this language," Willow mused. "So…how about 'looking at you makes me wet'?" she asked with a mischievous grin. Tara smiled at her.

"Very close," Tara said, impressed, "'me'' is me or my, 'ela' is love. 'Elas' is the body's physical capacity for love – High Amazonian is kind of sexual in a lot of ways. 'Me'elas' m-means 'my sex'. Usually literally, though depending on how it's used it can mean any part of the body that's, um, stimulated or aroused, or causing arousal in a partner."

"No kidding," said Willow, "I definitely like this language. So 'me'elas te's'sori' means…?"

"Wow," Willow said, "i-is everything erotic in High Amazonian so poetic?" Tara grinned shyly.

"Love is the founding concept of the language," she replied, "making love is a very special part of that. The structure of the language is, um, most elegant when it's being used to express things that are most important. That's why we learn it when we're at that age, it's part of learning about sex, and love."

"W-would you like to learn it?" Tara asked hesitantly. "I mean, it'd take a while, obviously, but I'm sure you'd catch on really fast…"

"I'd love that," Willow smiled. A thought occurred to her, and she raised an eyebrow suggestively. "You're not worried I'd wait until we're in a room full of people who won't understand it, and start telling you exactly what I'm going to do with you later on?" Tara's eyes went wide, and a smile played around the corners of her mouth.

"Uh-huh," Tara nodded. She slowly stroked her fingers up and down Willow's back, sighing contentedly at the feel of Willow lying against her. "D-do you want to start now?"

"How about I tell you a story?" Tara suggested. Willow nodded and settled herself in, reclining over Tara's body with her chin cradled in her cleavage, staring up at her face.

"I'tu a Ela'maso," she began, following with the translation: "In the time before Amazons – ile'se'nela u lea'la – there was born a beautiful woman – el'ela de co'a – kind and gentle – e'ti'Athulua – her name was Athulua.

"Her home was plagued by violence," Tara continued, translating as she went, "the people of her village struggling to survive while lords from far-away cities waged war through the land. As all her kind did, she learned to walk softly, to hear the approach of strangers and hide from them, and to live off what little the ravaged lands could provide. And above all, she and her people feared the soldiers, whose wars burned their crops, poisoned their soil and killed their animals.

"One year the wars were particularly vicious, and many of Athulua's people died. Athulua fled to the deepest forest, where few ever came, hoping the armies would pass her by. One day, when out gathering food, Athulua heard the approach of a stranger, someone who did not know the ways of her people to move quietly. She hid and watched, and saw a soldier, a woman with dark skin and strange attire, wandering through the forest. Athulua saw that the soldier was badly wounded, and knew that she would die soon. But she took pity on the poor woman, seeing her so hurt and lost, and so she followed her, and when at last the soldier fell to the ground from fatigue and dropped her spear, Athulua dared come out of hiding and approach her.

"The soldier's name was Kethryes, and though she had little food to spare, Athulua took her home and cared for her, unable to simply walk away and leave her to die. For many months Athulua searched the forest for food by day, coming back to her meager home in the evening to care for Kethryes. At first Kethryes couldn't understand Athulua's language, but little by little she learned to, and as she slowly regained her strength they talked, and became friends. As Kethryes healed, Athulua was glad to see her pain gone, but feared that she would lose her new friend once she was well enough to leave the forest and rejoin her army.

"Then one night the armies came to the deepest forest, and their fighting burned the land. Athulua and Kethryes fled, but with fires burning they became lost in the smoke, and soldiers captured them. They recognized Kethryes as one of her own and welcomed her, but Athulua was taken prisoner, to be sent to the lord of the army as a slave. The next night, when Athulua's guard was sleeping, Kethryes came to her and freed her. Together they escaped from the army and fled towards the coast, where they hoped to cross the sea and leave the wars behind for ever.

"They traveled far, coming to lands strange to both of them, and having only each other to take comfort in. During their journey they fell in love, Athulua with Kethryes's valiant spirit, Kethryes with Athulua's gentle soul. But unknown to them, the lord of Kethryes's army was greatly angered by her betrayal, and pursued her with many of his soldiers. And finally, after following their prey for many months, they caught Athulua and Kethryes, and Kethryes was taken prisoner while defending her lover so that she could escape.

"Athulua was alone, and had no god to pray to, so as she hid from the soldiers and cried she prayed to Kethryes, asking for her warrior spirit. She took Kethryes's spear and followed the soldiers to their camp, and as the sun set she attacked, swiftly defeating each soldier who challenged her, allowing them to run when they chose, but killing those who would not. She freed Kethryes and together they traveled far away from that land, and were never parted from each other again."

"And were never parted from each other again," Willow said, before Tara had translated the last line. Tara smiled down at her.

"In all sorts of ways," Willow replied. "They were the first Amazons? And they became your gods?"

"That's right," Tara said, "as they traveled they met others who were searching for a better life, and together they made the journey to the islands, which everyone thought were too wild to be conquered. But they did, and now it's our home, and Athulua and Kethryes still love each other and all their people."

"Well, I don't know about all of the Amazons," Willow said, "but I know I love one of them. Tell me another story?" Tara laughed to herself.

"Alright," she said, stroking Willow's hair as she turned and rested her head against Tara's breasts. "How Zerae the gladiator was freed…"

Tara told Willow stories through the day, both content to stay lying with each other among their soft blankets, as the clouds outside darkened and began to rain. With no respite from the constant drizzle in sight the caravan master chose not to halt for lunch, stopping only long enough for everyone to take some food from one of the supply wagons. Willow and Tara scurried out for lunch, both under the cover of a single waterproof sheet, and retreated as quickly as they could to the shelter of their wagon, passing the sheet out to the driver in front and then closing the flaps at the front and back of the canvas cover as tightly as they could. While Willow was finishing the last of her bread Tara idly began to draw, refusing to let Willow see until she was finished. So, while Tara remained seated with her back against the piled-up crates, cushioned by blankets, drawing away, Willow lay down and rested her head in Tara's lap, listening as Tara told her more stories, some of them Amazon legends, some wandering tales that Tara made up as she went.

At last evening came, and the caravan drew to a halt, taking what shelter it could from a rise on the west side of the road. Willow got up and peered through a corner of the canvas flap as the wagons moved into a half-circle up against the rise, with the baggage and supply wagons outside and the sleeping wagons as well-protected as they could be behind them. Tryptin, beneath a heavy waterproof coat and hood, made his way around the Amazon wagons, distributing food for dinner so that no-one else would have to go out in the rain. Tara continued to draw through dinner, and Willow tried to guess what she was up to, just from watching the way she would frown in thought before applying a stroke of her pencil here or there, turning the page this way and that beneath the light of the oil lamp above them.

"I suppose we'd better get ready for bed," Willow said idly after both of them had finished eating, and her curiosity was really starting to get the better of her. Tara nodded absently and stared at her page for a moment before making a miniscule addition to it. Willow unfolded the blankets she had set aside to sleep under, and began laying them out over their makeshift bed, leaving the corner where Tara was sitting alone for the moment. That done she pulled off her boots and undid her belt, glancing at Tara as she did so. She wasn't sure, but she thought she caught a glimpse of Tara's eyes on her, and Tara's smile was definitely a little wider than it had been.

Willow sat herself opposite Tara, deliberately not making any effort to look over the top of her page, and began undoing the laces on the sides of her boots. Tara smiled wider, and made a final addition to her sketch before setting it aside, face-down, and looking up at Willow. Willow finished removing Tara's boots and looked at her, then at the paper, then back at her.

"In a moment," Tara said softly, "when we're ready to go to bed." Willow grinned at Tara, enjoying the little game, and then sat up straight as she pulled her top over her head and let it fall behind her. She kept herself from meeting Tara's gaze, wanting her to have no distractions to draw her eyes away from the show Willow was putting on for her. Slowly she unhooked her bra at the back and drew her arms out of its shoulder straps, keeping it held to her chest with one hand as she did so. She finally looked at Tara, pleased to see Tara's eyes fixed on her hand as she slowly let it fall, revealing her breasts. Tara's lips parted as she took in a quick breath and held it.

"I've put a couple of robes aside," Willow said quietly, "in case we need to get dressed in a hurry…so, we could sleep naked, if you want?"

"I bet you do," Willow grinned at her, kneeling upright and undoing the waistband of her skirt. Tara's eyes followed it down her thighs, taking in every inch of skin revealed. Once the skirt was down around her knees Willow quickly pulled it back and off her legs, then sat down and leaned back, hooking her thumbs in the waistband of her underwear. Slowly, very much aware of Tara's intense gaze, she pulled the waistband down over her hips, lifting her bottom up off the blankets just long enough to slide the material out from underneath, and then dragging it down her legs. When she got as far as she could reach she lifted her right leg, pressing her hand to the back of her thigh as she lifted it up to her chest and slipped her foot through the loop. She then stretched both legs out straight, using her free foot to slide her underwear off her other leg, and looked at Tara.

Tara had the same expression she always did when Willow revealed herself for her, the serene mix of amazement and desire that always sent a thrill down Willow's spine. It was both at the thought of Tara being so enthralled by her body, and the suggestion of Tara's wilder side, that she showed only to Willow, the nervous anticipation of what Tara might do. In this case, after a moment in which she ran her eyes along the length of Willow's body, Tara reached slowly for the laces on her leathers.

"No," Willow said, surprising Tara. She lithely got up and knelt at Tara's side, gently removing her hands from the laces and taking hold of them herself.

"I did okay getting your boots off," she whispered in Tara's ear, "let me finish what I started." Tara's eyes went wide, and then she smiled at Willow and sat back, letting Willow attend to her clothes. Willow took her time loosening the laces of her armor, then pulled it off over her head, storing it out of the way. Next came Tara's thin shirt, and Willow made sure to graze her palms over Tara's breasts as she took that off, taking full advantage of the fact that Tara needed no bra so long as she had her armor to support her.

Willow had intended to proceed to Tara's leather skirt next, but the sight of Tara's breasts fully revealed to her sidetracked her badly. Watchful for any sign that Tara felt she was going too far, and detecting none, she took her breasts in her hands and gently pressed against them, squashing them lightly against Tara's body. She moved her hands in a slow circular motion, squeezing, lifting and releasing, while her thumbs stroked her nipples. Tara's breathing grew noticeably faster as Willow caught her nipples between her thumbs and the sides of her palms and began rolling them gently to and fro. Willow luxuriated in her fascination with Tara's breasts for some time, then – noticing Tara's eyes begin to close and her breathing becoming more like sighing – she took each nipple firmly between thumb and forefinger and squeezed, tugging gently at the same time.

Tara's reaction was immediate and dramatic. As soon as Willow applied the firm pressure to her nipples she arched her back as far as she could, pressing her breasts into Willow's surprised hands with more force than Willow had so far exerted. Tara's legs, crossed beneath her, uncoiled with a warrior's speed, closing again around Willow's waist and physically pulling her closer until Tara's leather skirt rode up around her hips and Willow's waist was pressed against the thin, and damp, material of her underwear. Finally, still before Willow had really had time to react, she sat up straight, one arm around Willow's back, hugging her close, with her hands still around Tara's breasts, now trapped by her own pressing in behind. Tara's other hand went to the back of Willow's head, holding her as she kissed her with all the wild passion Willow had been daydreaming about a moment ago.

Willow had opened her lips and invited Tara into her mouth before she even knew what was happening, and her first conscious reaction was to let her legs relax, letting Tara hold her exactly as she wanted. Tara licked at Willow's tongue, drew it out into her own mouth, then grazed her teeth across it as her lips continued to open and close against Willow's, making her shudder uncontrollably. Willow felt more sexual than she ever had in her life, naked in Tara's arms, giving herself to Tara to be pleasured in whatever manner Tara desired. A brief fantasy flitted through her mind, of Tara in full ceremonial armor, the image of a warrior, and herself standing naked against her, her nipples hard against the chill of a polished metal breastplate, inviting Tara to make love to her. The tail of the thought caught in her mind, and as the rest of the fantasy passed she held the image of looking into Tara's eyes and saying 'make love to me'.

Tara's lips slowed, and she released Willow from her embrace, holding her gently as they both caught their breaths.

"I'm so glad you did," Willow whispered, another shudder running through her body that she was powerless to suppress. Part of her wanted to throw herself back into Tara's arms, but she recognized that, while they waited for the right moment to give themselves over to their love completely, they had to maintain at least some control. She slowly extracted herself from between Tara's legs and reached down to undo her skirt. The catch came loose in her fingers, and Tara lifted herself slightly, letting Willow slide the skirt down her legs and off. Willow glanced up at Tara, resting the tips of her fingers on the waist of Tara's briefs, and on receiving a little nod from Tara, she slipped her fingers beneath the fabric and pulled it down. She wondered for a moment if she shouldn't look, if it would be somehow disrespectful to stare unashamedly at Tara's sex, but the way Tara relaxed her body and parted her thighs a fraction once her legs were free of her underwear drew Willow's eyes, and she spent a long moment simply taking in the sight of the patch of golden curls, and the lips of her sex beneath them, glistening slightly in the lamplight.

"Oh," Willow laughed quietly, "I forgot…I've been going nuts trying to figure out what it is all evening, but I guess somebody distracted me, you know?" Tara chucked to herself and reached out for the piece of paper – which showed off her breasts very well, Willow observed, as she reached behind herself – and handed it to Willow.

Willow recognized it at once, but nevertheless it took a moment for her to understand what she saw. Unlike the drawing of Tara's she had seen before, this one was completely detailed, with tiny, faint lines overlapping to create subtle shades, every inch of light and shadow accounted for. There were two figures, kneeling face to face, naked and almost glowing with the perfection of the smoothness of their skin. Tara was on the left, staring at Willow, and the scene was of their shared bathing, only the morning before. Tara's hand was between Willow's legs, gently touching her sex, and Willow's expression was one of absolutely pure joy. The way Tara had drawn her, with subtle plays of light on her face and in the shades behind her, made her look like an angel. Willow felt as if she was seeing two pictures at once, one sexual, herself brought to a serene peak of arousal by Tara's touch, the other of Tara worshipping her as a goddess, touching her as an offering to a divinity.

"Tara," Willow breathed, "th-this is…it's beautiful… gods…I look- d-do you really see me like this?"

"Always," Tara said. She gently took the page from Willow's unresisting hand and put it safely into their journal, nestling beside her earlier self-portrait.

Willow wanted to say something, anything, to tell Tara how much she loved her right then, but she couldn't find words to do it justice, and looking into Tara's eyes she realized she didn't have to.

"I love you," she murmured, knowing that Tara would understand how much those simple words meant.

"I love you too," Tara said, and Willow realized she had somehow succeeded, and Tara had heard all the unimaginable words she hadn't said, for she had said them back. Willow felt as though she would be able to glow with warmth in the middle of an icy river, as she lay down beside Tara, pulling the blankets up over them as Tara turned the lamp down, extinguishing it, and lay down. Willow lay on her side, in her accustomed position, but something about the way Tara wrapped around her tonight, the way her leg rested almost on top of Willow's, or the way her hand was pressed a little firmer into her body, made Willow shiver with delight, and dispelled any thought of getting to sleep easily. Willow remained still for a moment, listening to Tara's breathing, and the occasional muted voices from the caravan guards not far outside.

"Yes?" Tara purred, her silken voice leaving Willow in no doubt that she knew exactly how her insides were stirring.

"I-I love how you kissed me," she confessed. Tara held her a little closer, eliciting a sigh from Willow.

"I get a little nervous," Tara admitted, "sometimes I, y-you know…I get a bit wild, and it's not something I'm used to."

"You don't have to be nervous," Willow assured her, "when you get like that, I feel…um, I, uh, you don't have to, I know it might be a bit, well, a bit much, if we're not going to make love, but I'd…if you want, I want you to touch me, now. I-I want you to feel what you do to me. Would you?" Willow held her breath until she felt Tara's lips on the back of her neck, and her hand slowly move down over her stomach and across her waist.

Slowly, savoring every inch of the journey, Tara's fingers moved through Willow's dark red curls, tickling her slightly, before reaching the soft, yielding lips of her sex. Willow parted her thighs slightly, but otherwise held herself quite still, not wanting to do anything to distract Tara from what she was feeling. She was content to wait to make love, to endure the sweet, tantalizing longing for a little while more, but Tara's kiss had lit a fire inside her, the beauty of her drawing had fanned it, and Willow simply needed to have Tara touch her there once more. She wanted nothing more, but she knew she would be satisfied with nothing less. Tara's fingers moved over her sex, touching the wetness that had appeared there, touching with all the care in the world. Finally her palm pressed against Willow's curls, and her fingers stretched the length of her sex, cupped slightly to avoid putting too much agitating pressure on her clit, her fingertips resting around Willow's entrance further down.

"Ahhhh," Willow sighed, feeling her body react to Tara's touch, as though she had made everything in the world right. "You feel?" she whispered to Tara.

"I feel," Tara whispered back. Willow was mildly contemplating the end of the warming touch when the tip of Tara's index finger curled slightly, slipping just a fraction between the lips of her sex. She took two quick breaths before she could be entirely sure she wasn't about to thrust her hips down.

"Yesss," Willow hissed, opening her thighs a little more. Her fingers clawed the blankets as Tara's index finger slid slowly, tortuously slowly, into her sex, Willow's juices aiding her as she moved into her clenching tunnel. Finally, after a brief eternity, her hand rested against the lips of Willow's sex, and she was as deep as she could be inside her lover.

"Oh gods," Willow murmured, her heart hammering in her chest, "oh gods, oh Tara, my angel, my goddess, you're inside me, I can feel you inside me…"

"I'm inside you," Tara breathed right into Willow's ear. Somehow, even among the churning sensations, having Tara simply say the words lifted Willow higher.

"That's right," Tara purred, "you're weeping oceans for me." Willow felt as though it was literal truth – she had never before been so wet short of climax, that through the myriad feelings emanating from Tara's finger, still motionless inside her, she thought she could feel her own juices trickling out of her sex, wetting Tara's hand and her own thighs. A single droplet ran down over the front of her thigh, and she shuddered, almost certain that her sex doubled its wetness just from the motion, from Tara's finger shifting slightly inside her as she trembled.

"Willow," Tara whispered, "I-I'm not ready to m-make you come, like this…if I do, I-I don't think w-we'll be able to stop…I want you to come, Willow…when I…I come out of you, w-will you t-touch yourself? Please?"

"Come for me, Willow," Tara murmured, her finger moving insider Willow. Willow felt Tara press against her walls, at some spot she had never quite reached herself, and suddenly her eyes were closed, her mouth open, panting for breath, her heartbeat reverberating through her body, making her sex feel like it was pulsing, and as Tara's finger slid out of her, the need to feel release was too great to bear. Her hand went between her legs, as Tara's wet hand pressed against her stomach, and her other arm snuck underneath her to hug her, that hand flat against her chest, feeling her heartbeat. Willow exulted in Tara's tight hold, wasting no time in driving her index finger to the hilt in her own sex, grinding the heel of her hand against her clit at the same time. Normally that would have been enough, but the need Tara had created in her, the burning desire, demanded more from her. On the next outward thrust Willow lined her forefinger up alongside her index finger and buried both inside herself. It was something she only occasionally did, when the mood took her, and it always created reasonably spectacular results.

Now, though, with her palm stimulating her clit beyond endurance, with Tara's hands on her body, holding her tight, making her believe Tara could feel everything she did, and above all with the memory of Tara being inside her still so strong it was difficult to separate it from Willow's own penetration of herself, she felt herself break through some unknown boundary. She bit the blankets beneath her head hard to muffle her moan, and keep herself from screaming with joy, her sex gushed wetness over her fingers, and to Willow's mind, drowning in ecstasy, it seemed that Tara's tight, almost crushing embrace was all that kept her from literally exploding.

"Oh my gods," she panted, when the lights in her eyes stopped flashing and she had managed to unlock her jaws from their mouthful of blankets, "oh my gods…oh, my, gods!" she repeated again, stressing each word.

"I love you, my beautiful Willow," Tara murmured. Willow noticed that at some point she had returned her hug to the more relaxed embrace they slept in.

"I'm fine," Tara promised, "don't worry, I'll make sure I get my turn…and w-we'll get our turn." Willow relaxed in Tara's arms, her breathing slowing back to normal.

"You know," she said quietly, "it seems like every time I come while you're holding me, or even just when I'm thinking about you, I'm over and done in the blink of an eye." She chuckled, and felt Tara laugh behind her.

"When w-we get a night of our own," Tara promised, "I'll make sure you're writhing for what'll seem like hours before you come." She pressed her lips to Willow's back, just below the base of her neck, and held them there for a long time, tickling Willow's skin with her tongue.

"Hours, huh?" Willow asked, slightly tempted to imagine it in so much detail that her hand would be back between her legs before she knew it.

"The first time," Tara said lightly, "then maybe I'll make you come again quickly."

"Oh?" Willow managed, glad she was already lying down, what with her legs going completely weak.

"Me too," Tara replied, and Willow could practically hear her smile. "Goodnight Willow."

"Always," Tara said, drowsily, "my dreams are always Willow-dreams." She dragged her fingers, still moist, across Willow's stomach, then lifted them and leaned over, so that Willow could just see her out of the corner of her eye, and watch as her perfect lips closed over her fingers and sucked them clean.

"And Willow-dreams," Tara went on, settling back behind her, "are always so, so sweet…"

The full High Amazonian text of the story Tara told to Willow can be found Here.

Tara dreamed of home, and always Willow was there with her: watching the sunrise over the snow fields on the slopes of Mount Karcheus, walking among the huge, ancient trees of Philios, lying on the island shore with the waters of the Great Ocean lapping around their naked bodies. Slowly the dreams turned into waking reality, the motion of the waves becoming the gentle rocking of the wagon, the warm sun and sand becoming Willow's nest of blankets beneath her and covering her, and dream-Willow becoming real Willow, stretched out against her, lightly kissing around her collarbone. Willow sensed Tara was awake, and gave her a little lick at the base of her neck in greeting.

"I was…having…" Willow said idly, between kisses, "this wonderful dream…earlier…"

"This," Willow said, kissing her again. "And this," she added, moving a little lower, tickling the top of Tara's cleavage with her tongue. "And this." She turned her head and kissed Tara right on the breast, her hand appearing to hold it firmly against her lips.

"Then…I woke up," Willow murmured, "so I was thinking…if you want…we could see what happens next?" In response Tara wove her fingers into Willow's hair and gently held Willow to her breast as her lips resumed their explorations. Willow took both of Tara's breasts in her hands and massaged them, Tara encouraging her by arching her back, pressing herself into Willow's hands as the gentle holding turned into firm squeezing. Tara was torn between the sensations of Willow's forefingers and thumbs teasing her nipples, just as she had the night before – 'She learns so fast,' she thought gleefully – and the heat of her mouth, slowly kissing its way up the curve of her right breast, her lips parting each time they pressed against her to allow her tongue to graze Tara's skin.

She stifled a groan of dismay as Willow, on the verge of kissing her nipple, moved her head to the other side of her chest and started working her way up that breast in the same maddeningly patient way. This time, when she was barely an inch from Tara's nipple, she began circling around it, kissing underneath her breast, then the other side, then above, then back down to nudge her breast upwards, licking the very sensitive skin on the underside. Tara tried to find a pattern in Willow's motions, to discern when she would finally reach her goal, but her mind was in no state to think. She had only brief instants between Willow's kisses, which allowed her to think of nothing else, and all the concentration she could muster in those intervals was being used to restrain her vocal appreciation of Willow's attention to an aroused sighing.

"Please, Willow," she whispered, "please…goddess, please…" Willow moved up to look in her eyes, both hands squeezing her intensely, holding Tara's breasts to press against her own as she laid her body out on top of her.

"Touch yourself?" Willow asked in a whisper. "Please, Tara? While I kiss you?" Tara nodded at once – a moment longer and she wasn't sure she would have been able to wait for Willow to ask, and in any case she knew there was nothing she wouldn't do for the smile on her lover's face as she reached down with her free hand. Willow ducked back beneath the blanket covering them and resumed her attentions on Tara's breasts, going back and forth, kissing and licking closer each time. When Tara's hand went between her legs Willow lay her stomach down on top of her forearm, so that every move Tara made with her hand was passed through the contact with Willow. Tara perversely teased herself for a long moment, stroking the sensitive skin where her inner thighs met her body, then running her fingers over the surface of her sex, keeping her thumb well clear of her clit for the moment. Even when she finally parted her lips she denied herself, letting the tip of her finger slide inside herself just a fraction, then pulling it back as her hips moved of their own accord, trying to deepen the penetration. Willow seemed to sense what she was doing, and began allowing brief, feather-light touches on her nipples, quickly and lightly licking them, her head bobbing from one side to the other. Tara made herself wait for Willow – the need she felt each time she refused to allow her sex more than a taste of satisfaction was nothing compared to the feel of Willow's mouth on her breasts.

Finally Willow relented, and Tara gasped and threw her head back as warmth closed over her, the warmth of Willow's mouth sucking on her nipple, her tongue caressing the nub of flesh between her lips. For a split second Tara felt as if her body had inverted itself, as if her own hand between her legs was just a mild stimulation, and her real orgasm was about to burst out of her chest into Willow's mouth. Then, with the rhythmic pressure of Willow's stomach on her wrist urging her on, she let her finger go deep within herself, and the real strength of her sexual urge came into play. She felt as if her arousal was moving through herself and Willow, she arching her back, thrusting herself up to Willow who licked and sucked her nipple with abandon, her lower body rocking against Tara's wrist, returning the arousal into Tara's sex through her hand. Tara felt her climax building with incredible speed.

"Not yet," Willow gasped in the brief interval as she moved to Tara's other breast, lavishing the same affection on it. Tara felt as though her hand and her sex were no longer entirely under her control – she thrust and curled her finger within herself, finally letting her thumb rub against her clit, circling and stroking it, but at the same time, despite the intense pressure building inside her, she believed it would be impossible for her to find release until Willow let her. The conflicting sensations – Willow bestowing such pleasure on her, giving her so much, while at the same time having such power over her – were intoxicating. Tara didn't know whether, in her mind, she was reclining regally for Willow to please, or giving herself over for Willow to feast on. Both images flitted through her thoughts, as she continued to feed Willow the pleasure she was thrusting into herself. The tiny part of her mind still capable of rational observation flatly refused to believe she hadn't reached climax already. Her sex felt voracious, hoarding the pleasure it should have released by now, and the thought of the flood of feeling building inside her was so erotic it was almost frightening.

Willow's word or no, Tara knew she couldn't contain herself much longer. Her entire body was tingling, and where there was stimulation of any kind, whether it was Willow's lips around her nipples, with her tongue working furiously, and her hands grasping both breasts in a massage of delightful intensity, or her own fingers on her aching sex, both inside herself and working her clit and her lips, of even just the contact of Willow's body on hers, where even amid the dizzying sensations she was aware of Willow's breasts against her stomach, her legs around Tara's, no matter where they touched Tara felt as if the gods were giving her body new life. Her climax built, and Willow, sensing it, looked up at the same moment as Tara lifted her head to look down, her eyes sparkling in the shadow of the blanket over her head, her parted lips breathing hot air over Tara's glistening nipple.

"Now," she said, before returning to bury her face in the softness of Tara's breasts, sucking her nipples as if she were trying to swallow them, lavishing attention on her with lips, tongue and hands. Tara felt something begin within herself, like the tremble of premonition before an avalanche, and buried her finger deep within herself as she rubbed her clit as hard as she could bear, bringing herself finally over the edge. It took all her self-control not to scream, such that she lost all control of her body and went completely limp beneath Willow, arms and legs useless, her hand on her sex moved only by Willow's gyrating stomach, all except for her core, which gathered all her pleasure, held it for a tortuous moment, then released it in a cataclysmic wave that turned her skin to heat, her bones to water and her blood to pure arousal. For a moment she forgot nearly everything, where she was, who she was, how she was touching herself and what Willow was doing to her – all she knew was that Willow was loving her, and as far as she could tell that had always been and would always be. A tightness in her chest reminded her to breathe, and brought her back to reality.

"Don't stop," Willow gasped. Tara had begun to move her hand away from her sex, but Willow caught it and pressed her soaked fingers onto her clit, and the pent-up sensitivity that would in a second more have made it too tender to comfortably touch flashed into a burning need to come again. Tara didn't fully understand what Willow wanted, only that her body did understand, and was complying without question. Her fingers, still wet with her own juices, moved around and over her clit in quick, desperate motions, her other hand squeezed her breasts which Willow had unaccountably left to their own devices, moving from one to the other, gathering the moisture Willow's mouth had left there. She felt another climax begin to build within herself, and wondered how it could exceed the first, then Willow's lips touched her sex, and she knew.

She was suspended for a moment in time, experiencing that first kiss to her sex, Willow's lips soft against her most intimate place, caring, loving, not demanding but merely asking, gently pleading for her climax. Tara felt herself tense to come again, then tentatively, almost shyly, Willow's tongue was parting her lips and tasting within her for the first time. Once more Tara became blind to everything around her and inside her except for Willow. Then she came, and felt everything in minute detail, in slowed time – her body exploding, bursting with pleasure and life, her sex tightening around the gentle intruder within it, the liquid proof of her arousal traveling within her in a tide, and Willow's lips opening to accept it.

"Goddess!" she yelled as she felt Willow drink from her sex, the sensation magnified in her mind out of all proportion, to herself gushing like a raging river, and Willow the ocean into which she flowed.

"Lady?" came a concerned voice from the other side of the canvas separating the inside of the wagon from the driver's seat at its front.

"Just praying!" Tara called out, without ever consciously forming the idea or the intention to speak. She then clamped her free hand over her mouth as Willow gently lapped up her arousal, setting off a series of trembling aftershocks in Tara's sex as she diligently cleaned every inch of skin she could find. Finally, after Willow had licked the entirety of Tara's sex, her inner thighs, her hand lying limp next to her clit, and a substantial portion of her waist and stomach where she couldn't possibly have gotten any of her juices, she moved up and peeked her head out of the blanket. Tara had just enough strength to wrap her arms around her as she settled beside her.

"Just praying?" Willow asked quietly. Tara again clamped her hand securely over her mouth, but could do nothing to prevent the fit of giggles she and Willow both collapsed into.

"Oh yes," Tara said, stroking Willow's hair, "all the time. Athulua and Kethryes…Zerae and her husband Hefaetrus…and especially Elasia. She's the goddess of love…well," she corrected herself, "that's not quite accurate, all our gods feel love. Elasia is the goddess of sex."

"Absolutely," Tara said, "it's a very important part of life, just as much as the seasons, and the harvests."

"That," Tara said languorously, "was you making me scream for joy." Willow grinned broadly and wriggled herself against Tara.

"Elasia blesses any…" Tara searched for the right word, "any sharing of pleasure between people. Even if it's two people who aren't truly in love having sex because they want to please each other. Elasia shares her love with people then, so that even when they aren't truly in love, they're never completely without love, either. But when two people are truly in love, and share their love, Elasia knows there's nothing she could do to make it any better."

"I know," Tara said, "oh, goddess, I know. I love you, Willow. Even the gods couldn't give me love like this."

"Oh Tara," Willow sighed, "Tara, Tara…you know, at this rate we'll have nothing left to do when we finally get our own bedroom." Tara laughed with Willow, winding her fingers through her hair and stroking her.

"Oh I don't think so," she said, "I think we'll have plenty to do, once we don't need to worry about making too much noise, or bumping into the sides of the wagon." Willow looked up at her, and Tara gave her a sly, thoughtful grin.

"What've you got in mind?" Willow asked, narrowing her eyes with playful intensity.

"I thought," Tara said softly, interrupting Willow's glee for a moment, "I'd lie down between your legs, and kiss your sex just like that. And," she added, giving Willow a shy grin, "I won't stop until you climax." Willow was wide-eyed, and looked slightly stunned.

"Wait and see," Tara promised, "I think it'll be much, much longer…just as long as you can bear." She leaned over to whisper in Willow's ear: "And one second more." Willow shivered, which felt quite delightful to Tara as she was still lying tightly up against her.

"Speaking of arousing me to complete distraction," Willow said, "do you think it's possible for an Amazon to bring a sorceress to climax just by whispering in her ear?"

"Very nearly today," Willow replied, leaning up on her elbows to kiss Tara. She took her time, Tara letting her tease and taste her mouth with contented patience, only occasionally trapping Willow's tongue between her teeth for an instant and licking it. Willow took full advantage of Tara's relaxed state, indulging herself in exploring Tara's lips, mouth and tongue at length and in detail.

"I didn't want to start the day without giving you a good morning kiss," Willow said matter-of-factly as she lay back down, her head on Tara's shoulder.

"Of course not," Tara replied, "seeing as you've kissed just about every other part of me already."

"Yeah, there is that," Willow admitted. "You know what? You taste absolutely divine." Tara felt herself blush. Willow kissed her again, just quickly, and sat up to reach behind herself for something. She turned back with a small package wrapped in paper and a gourd to find Tara shamelessly enjoying the view of her naked body.

"Maybe," Tara allowed, "but you know, I-I kind of prefer drawing myself for you."

"You could," Tara said, "but I don't think I'd get any drawing done. What's that?"

"Breakfast," Willow said, unwrapping the package to reveal half a loaf of soft bread and another paper-wrapped object which turned out to be cheese. "Bread, cheese, there's an apple back there if you want it, and fruit juice. Tryptin dropped them off just after I woke up."

"Nice of him," Tara said, "I thought we'd missed breakfast. We're moving," she added, "what time is it?"

"Still at least couple of hours to midday," Willow said. "We got underway while you were asleep."

"I noticed when I woke up," Tara admitted, "but then, someone distracted me before I could think about it."

"Well, sorry about that," Willow grinned, "but you just looked good enough to eat."

"You don't need to be sorry at all," Tara assured her. "I've never in my entire life felt so, so loved, so cherished…so satisfied…" She sat up and knelt next to Willow, wrapping her arms around her waist. "I-I've never come so hard," she added with a bashful smile.

"Get used to it," Willow purred, grinning from ear to ear. She glanced down at the half-prepared breakfast. "You know, suddenly that doesn't look so appetizing anymore." Tara kissed her softly, just opening her mouth the fraction she needed to grab Willow's bottom lip and suck on it, then swatted her lightly on the bottom.

"Guilty as charged," Willow admitted. "My poor tender bottom," she added, pouting adorably.

"Poor Willow," Tara said consolingly, "want me to kiss it better?" Willow's expression changed instantly from pretended sorrow to sincere satisfaction.

"Maybe later," she murmured with a smile. "We should eat, even if it is just boring old caravan food." She and Tara divided up the meal and made short work of it, both having something of an appetite from not having eaten until so late in the morning. Tara ended up leaning back against the side of the wagon, a blanket around her shoulders, with Willow sitting between her legs and leaning back on her, holding up an apple for her to take bites out of now and then.

"Not so bad," Willow said idly, finishing the last of the bread roll in her free hand. "Still, get me a fire and some pots and we'll have a proper meal some time."

"Oh yeah," Willow said, "yeah, my mother started teaching me before I went to learn sorcery, and I kept dabbling in it over the years. Don't you?"

"Well, I can cook," Tara admitted, "but, you know, only if there's no alternative. I wouldn't say I'm better than average."

"It's a lot like magic," Willow went on, "sort of a mix of method and inspiration. Part of it is knowing what to do, which ingredients, how long to cook them, which flavors work and which don't…and part of it is just instinct. You feel how everything is coming together as you're cooking, and you just know what to do. I used to practice after lessons every day. It took a while – sometimes I ended up wishing I'd just gone to the dining hall like everyone else – but I'm pretty good at it now. When we get the chance I'll make you something. You don't eat meat, do you?"

"Not if I can avoid it," Tara said. "I mean, out in the wild you eat what'll keep you alive. I don't mind it, particularly, but I prefer not to."

"I've got a cream sauce that goes great with vegetables," Willow said, "and given a couple of spices you'll just love what I can do with carrots."

"I bet I would," Tara purred. Willow missed the meaning of the comment for a moment, but after nodding vaguely she sat bolt upright and spun around, looking amusingly scandalized.

"Tara!" she protested, trying not to laugh. Tara licked her lips seductively, then couldn't help herself any longer and fell sideways, laughing as she hit the blankets. Willow jumped on top of her.

"Not when you're lying down you're not," Willow declared hotly, shifting herself up to Tara's waist to keep her from getting away, and tickling her sides. Tara writhed beneath her, laughing herself silly and in no condition to defend herself. Her efforts to catch Willow's wrists, or at least tickle her in return, were hampered by her distraction at feeling the warmth of Willow's sex pressing down on her stomach.

"You're enjoying this," she said, after managing to gulp down a breath of air between giggles.

"You bet I am," Willow replied. She gave Tara some respite, sitting back on her heels and looking down at Tara beneath her.

"Well," she said appreciatively, "I can see one way you're definitely not 'little'." Tara followed Willow's gaze down to herself. She wriggled a little, enjoying Willow's aroused "Mmm" as her breasts wobbled.

"One thing I don't understand," Willow went on, laying herself down on top of Tara's legs, with her head resting on her stomach, "is how you don't just lock yourself in your room and play with yourself all day." Tara laughed, which caused her chest to shudder quite expressively, and Willow to "Mmm" again.

"I-I never really thought about them," Tara admitted, "they're just, you know…me. A bit bigger than most of the other girls, not too big to fit into armor and use a longbow with. There was a little while when I was, um, developing a bit earlier than most of the girls, and I felt a bit awkward…but apart from that, u-until you came along, they were just…my breasts. Nothing special."

"Nonsense," Willow said lazily, "everything about you is special, and that most certainly includes your luscious, soft, beautiful, abundant," she started drawing circles around Tara's breast with a finger, "warm, sensual, yielding," she poked Tara gently to demonstrate, "smooth, wonderful, bountiful, flawless," Tara was gazing down at Willow, wondering how long she could go on, "inviting, tempting, titillating, hah, luscious, oh wait, I already said that, doesn't matter, they're worth saying it twice…where was I?"

"Luscious, and titillating before that," Tara murmured, utterly entertained by Willow's ongoing declaration.

"Oh yeah, that's right," Willow said, "I'd just started on all the adjectives about how every time I see you naked I just want to leap into your arms and feel your breasts in my hands, and wrap my legs around your waist, and kiss you, and I'm getting sidetracked…I've lost my train of thought again."

"Well, just so long as you've got the idea," Willow allowed. She kissed Tara's navel, wriggling her tongue around for a moment, then shuffled up her body and laid her head down on her breasts.

"Mmm, I can hear your heart," she murmured. "This'd be a lovely way to go to sleep…it's not uncomfortable, is it?"

"Not at all," Tara said, "b-but isn't it a little early to be going back to sleep? I mean, we just woke up…"

"Not now," Willow explained, "I was just adding the idea to my list of things to do. I'm making a list in my head, 'Things to do with naked Tara'. It's quite extensive."

"Oh yeah…let's see, go to sleep using Tara-breasts as pillow, that'll be number…one hundred thirty-eight."

"I do indeed," Willow agreed, "most of the time. Except when you kiss me, then my brain sort of melts, and the best thought I can come up with is 'mwaaa'."

"It starts when you kiss me," Willow clarified, "although, sometimes even earlier…"

"Come here, my love," Tara breathed. Willow lifted herself up and leaned over Tara, lowering her lips for Tara to kiss. The way Tara kissed her, she felt as if her lips were the only truly real part of her, that their kiss was anchoring her to the world, and without it she'd be blown away on some ethereal breeze. Tara lifted her head, probing into Willow's mouth, making full use of her remarkably agile tongue to reach every corner. While it lasted, Willow was no more able to pull away from the kiss than she was to leave her own body – she lifted herself up over Tara, as high as she could, then arched her back, pressing their bodies together, then laid herself out along the length of Tara's body, writhing slowly to gain as much contact as she could. Finally, with one last tug at Willow's lip, Tara released her and lay her head back down.

"Mwaaa," Willow said, resting her head on Tara's shoulder, enjoying the sound of her laughter, and the way Tara's body moved beneath her.

The caravan halted for lunch, to rest its animals for the afternoon's long haul to the next town and to give its passengers a chance to stretch their legs. A stream passed fifty feet from the road, in clear sight of it, so Willow and Tara both took the opportunity to wash some of their clothes, trusting the cloudless sky to the north not to rain on them while they were drying later. After lunch Tara spoke with Tryptin for a while, and he passed on what he knew about the schedule the Duncraig ambassadors had decided on, while Willow made an effort to catch up on her studies and start work on a report to send from Duncraig, having fallen behind in her own self-imposed schedule due to unforeseen distractions.

"Unforeseen distractions?" Tara asked when Willow told her. "I'm an unforeseen distraction now?"

"I was thinking of the whole demon-summoning incident," Willow corrected her with a grin, "but if I were going to blame you for not getting any work done, you'd be more of a 'delightful I've-found-my-purpose-in-life distraction'. I don't think the Zann Esu really need me to tell them that much detail anyway, it's not like they're watching over my shoulder exactly. They'll probably be surprised I'm writing a progress report at all."

The weather held fine during the afternoon, allowing them to roll up the roof of the wagon and ride in comfort with the sun on their faces. Tara set to work with pen and paper once more, teasing Willow that she wanted a visual record of their morning activities. Willow leapt across the wagon, blushing furiously, to find a landscape of the Kingsway highlands taking shape on Tara's page.

"You enjoy teasing me altogether too much," she protested playfully, picking up her fallen book and replacing it in its satchel. Tara merely raised an eyebrow and kept her eyes on her work. Willow lay down with her head in Tara's lap and hummed to herself for a while, basking in the sunlight and the soft caress of Tara's fingers through her hair whenever she paused to consider her drawing.

"Sorenstad," Tara replied absently, tapping the back of her pen against her bottom lip thoughtfully, "it's more or less the northern border of the Kingsport realm. Beyond this the people are spread pretty thin until we get to Duncraig's southern outposts. We'll be staying at the inn tonight," she added, glancing down at Willow with a grin.

"I don't know," Tara admitted, "Tryptin mentioned that most of the caravan would be in communal bedrooms, but he said he thought they'd probably have a private room for the ladies."

Sorenstad was a small town with farmland stretching for miles around it. However, all its people seemed to have moved behind the high earth and wood stockade surrounding the town proper – as the caravan made its way slowly through the single gateway and into the inn's yard, both Willow and Tara stared around at the mass of humanity crowding the small town, at the lean-tos and makeshift shacks that surrounded nearly every permanent building, and the men, women and children having their evening meals on stools and tables by the roadside outside their temporary lodgings, for want of space within.

"I wonder if the inn will have room for us," Tara murmured to herself. Willow took her hand, looking sympathetic. They gathered the gear that was too valuable to leave to the wagons, even with an unlucky few of the caravan guards on night watch – Willow's books, Tara's spear – and dropped down off the wagon as it rolled into the yard, the driver slotting it neatly into the space between one of the Duncraig wagons and the side of the inn and getting down to see to the horses. Tara, with Willow in tow, wandered towards the inn's front, where Tryptin was in discussion with a burly harassed-looking man who they took for the innkeeper. They caught only a word or two – "unforeseen" and "trying times" from the innkeeper, "can't be helped" from Tryptin – before he signaled to the lieutenant of the caravan guards and shook hands with the innkeeper. He spotted Willow and Tara, and paused by them on his way back to the wagons.

"Miss Willow," he said politely, with a nod of greeting for Tara. "The inn is more crowded than they're used to," he explained, "they have enough beds for us, but barely. There's only one spare private room though, and you'll be sharing it with a woman and her child. Um, the room's only fitted for two," he added, looking slightly sheepish, "you don't mind sharing a bed?"

"Of course not," Tara said, squeezing Willow's hand to communicate her shared disappointment.

"Thank you," Tryptin said sincerely, "I'm sorry about this, I hoped for better, but there's little we can do. Some of the emissaries will be sleeping in the wagons as it is, although I dare say they'll be comfortable enough. Oh, while I think of it, I'll be sending Melcan down to the general store in a while to buy some extra blankets, just in case it gets cold tonight, could you use a few more? It'll be a few days to the next town, and we'll be moving further into the highlands."

"Well, that's what I'm here for," Tryptin said, shrugging off the praise, "keep everyone happy and safe until we get home again. I've asked the innkeeper to show you to your room once he's finished talking to our lieutenant. There's a dining room here, but I'd recommend taking something up to your room from the supply wagon, it's liable to be a bit crowded and I can't say how good the food will be. Come to me if you need anything," he added, turning back to the caravan.

"Thanks," Willow called after him. "No room of our own?" she grumbled to Tara. "You've got to be kidding me."

"Hey, I'm the one who should be sorry," Willow argued, "considering how I woke you up…I kind of figured we'd have tonight to ourselves."

"I just have to think, would I rather be here with you," Tara explained, "or absolutely anywhere else in the world. That's not even a choice. Besides," she added, leaning over to whisper in Willow's ear, "I'm not the one who wasn't satisfied this morning."

"Oh I was satisfied plenty," Willow assured her. "Sated, you might say. If you're fine, I'm fine. Now let's go get us a room."

"So are you," Willow replied in a hushed voice, "and believe me, I'm in a position to know. Or, at least, I was in a position to know earlier, and I intend to be again as soon as possible. When's the next town due?"

"Five days, I think," Tara said. "Willow, do you…I-I mean, if it makes you, you know, worked up, w-would you prefer I didn't talk about… well, tease you so much?"

"Absolutely not," Willow said firmly, "I may end up being driven so nuts they'll have to put me in an asylum once we get to Duncraig, but gods it's wonderful!" Tara smiled broadly.

"Good," she said, "I'm glad. I-I like it too…I like making you blush," she admitted.

"Me too," Willow agreed. "I mean, you making me blush…and me making you blush, also, so I didn't really need to clarify that," she went on to herself, "'cause whichever way you took it, it still would've been right…"

"Yeah, you're real shy," Willow said, "right up to the point where you start making love to me like you're going to devour me."

"Well, you know," Willow explained, "I know we haven't, but I was thinking earlier, we kind of have…I mean, there's not a lot we haven't, um, shared between us, you know? A-and the way it feels, even if it's just a kiss, it's like…you've made love to me, you really have. I feel like you've given me all of yourself."

"So, I guess," Willow went on, "I feel like we have made love, in all sorts of ways…a-and there's ways we haven't, yet, of course, but…I mean, if I had to choose, I'd rather just be with you, just together, like sitting on a bench in a park, or walking through a market holding hands, I'd rather that, and feel loved the way you make me feel, than have sex in every mind-blowing way humanity's ever thought of, if I didn't feel loved. It's just…it's you," she finished with a tiny, sweet smile, "you *are* love."

"Oh Willow," Tara murmured, "goddess, you are so wonderful… I love you, I wish I had words for how much."

"You do," Willow promised, "in your eyes, you do." Tara stared at her in complete adoration.

"If we weren't standing in the middle of a town," she whispered, "I would kiss you, right now, so much…"

"I know," Willow said, "I really do." She hugged Tara briefly, then held her hand as they walked towards the supply wagon. Behind them, the innkeeper had just finished talking to the lieutenant.

"When we get a room of our own," Tara said, "I'm still going to think of it as our first night, though."

"Speaking of all sorts of mind-blowing ways of making love," Tara whispered in Willow's ear, "remind me later to tell you about the Books of Elasia."

"Elasia has books?" Willow asked, very interested. "How many? Are they…like, detailed books?"

"They're not the kind of thing I can tell you about in a public place," Tara grinned.

"Not yet," Tara said, "but one day, maybe…if you want, of course…if we go back home, to Tran Athulua, we could read them together?"

"Consider it done," Willow said, keeping her voice low as they approached the innkeeper. Tara smiled to herself, slightly oblivious to the world around her. She hadn't realized, when she had thought of reading the books together, that a simple teasing suggestion would actually involve asking Willow to come with her half-way around the world. The way Willow had agreed without even a shadow of hesitation, and the sincerity in her voice, telling Tara she knew exactly what she was saying, filled her heart with joy.

The innkeeper led them to the private bedroom reserved for women visitors, apologizing for the overcrowding as he went. He seemed a little in awe of Tara, while Willow got away with just a curious glance – she had worn a simple robe over a skirt and tunic, while Tara wore light leather armor as usual, and her spear was a lot more distinctive than Willow's plain staff. Their room was small but quite pleasant, for an inn in a border town, having a north-facing window with a scenic view over the roofs of the adjacent buildings out onto the highlands, and contained a modest wardrobe, a dresser with a small mirror, two beds, a small fireplace, an apprehensive-looking woman and a child of four or five, who stared at Tara in wonder. Willow squeezed Tara hand and nodded to the wardrobe. Tara stored her spear up on top of it, safely out of the child's reach, while Willow lay her staff down on the unoccupied bed and smiled at their roommates.

"H-h-hello," the woman said nervously, "I-I'm Deanne, th-this is Kristal, m-my daughter." Willow crouched down to look the young girl in the eye, holding out her hand and shaking gently when Kristal tentatively took it.

"Hello Kristal," she said with a smile, noticing Deanne, despite her anxiety, smiling too at her daughter's adorably courteous acceptance of Willow's hand.

"Yep," Willow said casually, staying crouched – she was no taller than Deanne, but the woman was hunched in on herself, and Willow didn't want to seem intimidating, even in the slightest way.

"Oh, no," she said, slightly flustered, "you don't have to…just 'Tara'. Hello. Um, we brought some food, for dinner, you're welcome to join us? I-if you don't have other plans, I mean." Deanne looked somewhat taken aback at Tara's gentle manner. Willow wondered what she had first thought when the innkeeper had told her she would be sharing her room with an Amazon, but she was glad to see the tension evaporating from the woman. Kristal studied Tara intently, as if cataloguing every detail of her.

"Th-that's very kind of you," Deanne said, "I-I was going to go down to the dining hall, b-but if it's no trouble…I'd appreciate it."

"No trouble," Willow said brightly, "pull up a seat. Or bed, as it were." Deanne even smiled at her joke as they sat on their beds, Tara moving the small nightstand between them to serve as a table, and starting to unwrap and lay out the food they had taken from the caravan supplies.

"D-did you come from Kingsport?" Deanne asked Tara, while Willow took a jug of water and poured it into the pot over the fire.

"Oh," Deanne said, biting her lip for a moment before venturing another question. "Wh-what was it like? In Kingsport?"

"It's a big city," Tara said hesitantly, "and we were only there for a day. Um, it seemed very…busy. Lots of activity – from the docks, and in the markets."

"We – that is, m-my daughter and I, and my- bodyguard," Tara noticed Deanne give a slight hesitation there, "are heading to Kingsport. We haven't decided yet whether to try to settle there, or take a ship somewhere else. I thought, perhaps, we might find work in the city…Teban is very skilled with his hands, he used to be a craftsman, a-and I can write…"

"Th-that sounds likely," Tara hazarded when Deanne paused, looking slightly worried, "from what I heard the sea trade is bringing a lot of wealth to the city. I-I'd imagine there's a lot of demand for craftsmen, and scribes. It's a bit…well, I suppose all ports are a bit unruly," she went on, "but if you've got a bodyguard I'm sure you won't have any trouble at all…and the Baron's a very good ruler, he's very fair."

"P-perhaps we'll be able to stay there," Deanne said with a hopeful smile, "it would be nice not to be always traveling…you'd like that, dearest?" she added to Kristal, smiling warmly. "A proper home?"

"Yes dearest," Deanne said, "we will." She turned her attention back to Tara, and Willow as she returned with hot water for their soup. "We've been on the road a long time," she explained.

"We passed through there a month ago," Deanne said, "but we couldn't afford to stay long in the city itself, and Teban suggested we try Kingsport, rather than one of the villages around the city. We're used to a city, you see, we came from Gotunberg."

"Really?" Willow said, "I studied just outside there for a while, at the hospice."

"No," said Willow, "I'm a sorceress, but my order sends us there for the library, and some of us are healers, so they train with the doctors there…"

"Oh it's no big deal," Willow said. "You came all the way from Gotunberg?" she asked, not really comfortable being the center of attention. "That's a long journey."

"I-it's taken quite a while," Deanne replied, "we took a ship across the gulf, to Leorgrad, and then up the Sulga river into the mountains, a-and across to the start of the Kingsway, and down to Duncraig…it's been a long journey," she finished with a shy grin, "it'll be good to settle down again."

"I got to swim," Kristal interjected, "in a big pool that was all hot and tingly." Deanne smiled fondly.

"At Soltram," she explained, "up in the mountains near the source of the Kingsway, they have these pools of water that just…well up out of the rocks, and they're warm, from the heat deep inside the ground. All the children play in them, so we had to teach Kristal to swim, so she could join in."

"Not in the sea, dearest," her mother said, "it's dangerous. Maybe there'll be pools near the river mouth, though," she added, to dispel Kristal discontented pout, which was replaced with a gleeful smile.

"Initially," Willow replied as Tara started on her soup, "I'm traveling to study with mages all over Westmarch, and Duncraig is my first real port of call for that. Eventually I'll be going further into Westmarch, and further east as well, into Khanduras."

"It was just coincidence," Willow explained, "I'd been in Kingsport a day and I was sitting in the wagon reading, and in climbs this fine figure of a warrior," she nodded to Tara, "who fortunately is the loveliest soul you could ever hope to meet," she added in a fake conspiratorial whisper to Deanne. Tara seemed to glow with affection.

"Still, as surprise entrances go," Willow went on with a grin. "I mean, the armor, she was carrying that spear, and had a bow on her back, looking all Amazon…and there's me sitting there with a book in my lap not knowing what had hit me."

"I-I understand," Deanne said, "Teban is l-like that. To look at he's, well, he's quite formidable, but he's the sweetest man…" For a moment she was smiling to herself, then she covered it and composed herself. "He's very kind," she explained, "a-and he takes good care of us." She dropped her gaze back to her meal and ate silently for a moment.

"Oh, no," Willow said, "Tara's part of an Amazon mission, they're going to Duncraig to, you know, negotiate, and do what diplomats do, and all that."

"The mission is traveling as far as Duncraig," Tara elaborated, "then heading back home. I-I'm staying with Willow." Willow turned to stare at Tara, her lips parted in joy, though no words emerged. She took hold of Tara's hand and held it tightly, absolutely not caring if Deanne guessed everything there was to know about the two of them. The older woman just smiled faintly to herself and turned her attention to her daughter, giving Willow and Tara a moment of courteous privacy.

When all four of them resumed their meal Deanne was more at ease, and talked more readily with Willow about places they had both known in Entsteig. They ended up discussing the Gotunberg markets, Willow reminiscing about browsing through them, Deanne promising that, from what she had seen in passing, Duncraig had markets to rival even the capital of the northern realms. Tara meanwhile set her attention on Kristal. First the girl stared intently at her, and Tara returned her stare with comical wide eyes, which made her laugh. She stuck her tongue out, as did Tara, then Kristal winked, and again Tara copied her. Deanne and Willow both looked at them, mystified, as they broke out in giggles.

"She's such a joy," Deanne confessed quietly to Tara after dinner, as they both watched Willow and Kristal sitting on the opposite bed. Willow had shaded the room's main lamp just enough for the candle on the nightstand to cast a decent shadow, and was entertaining the girl by making shadow puppets. Kristal joined in, mastering the rabbit fairly quickly and moving on to the puppy, the kitten and, with limited success, the pony, while Willow delighted her by pretending to mistake them for ludicrous shapes – Kristal rolled on her back on the bed laughing after her attempt at a bird had Willow saying with authority: "Well that's obviously the Archangel Hadriel. Um, carrying a banana," to account for the bowed shape of the bird's feet.

"I-I'm sorry I was, um, cautious before," Deanne said to Tara, "I've never met an Amazon before. Or a sorceress," she added.

"It's okay," Tara said, "I mean, if I was suddenly sharing a room with a warrior I'd be nervous too. And I am a warrior. Well, not that I've ever really fought anything, but, you know…" Deanne looked at her curiously.

"I only just finished my training," Tara explained, "this is my first assignment. Normally a girl my age would join a warrior pride, but my instructor thought I'd be better off here. Um, she wasn't sure how well I'd handle being a soldier."

"Back home," Deanne said, then paused, "well, in Gotunberg – it used to be home – a boy training as a soldier would be in a patrol squad by the age of sixteen. And a girl would be betrothed, and married the day she turned eighteen as often as not. I was married on my eighteenth birthday. My son, Iain, has never been further than fifty miles from his home, and now he's married and has a baby son of his own…You know, it hasn't been easy traveling this far, and I miss my son very much, but I think if I had never seen all that I've seen…" she shrugged. "Well, I'm probably not telling you anything you don't know," she added with a smile.

"Oh, no, I understand," Tara said, "until now I'd never been away from home. It's only recently that my people could spare warriors to travel with expeditions like this, I-I'm actually very lucky. If I'd joined a pride I might never have left the islands, and seen all these places, Kingsport, and the castle…and, um, met Willow, of course. She's a…a wonderful friend" she finished shyly. Deanne gave her an understanding look.

"It's alright," she said quietly, "you two are…?" Tara hesitated, the nodded, and Deanne met her stare with a sympathetic gaze. "I know what it's like to have to hide it," she said, "at home…after my husband died, just after Kristal was born, I wouldn't have been allowed to remarry. My family are very…conservative. Teban was my husband's man-at-arms, he's very kind and gentle, and he loves Kristal dearly, but my family wouldn't have approved…I didn't want Kristal to have to live by rules like that, so we left. We went north at first, to the edge of the steppes where he came from, and then when we had saved enough we set out for Westmarch. They say that people are more accepting of each other's ways here. We're traveling as companions, but," a smile touched the corners of her lips, "when we get to Kingsport, we're hoping to be married. If we're allowed to there."

"You will," Tara assured her, "the Baron is very fair. He, um, he knew…about me and Willow, we stayed at the castle for several days, and he was…he let it be known, publicly, that he had no objection."

"Well," Deanne said with a little laugh, "perhaps Kingsport will be a good place to settle." She looked at Kristal, who was copying Willow's shadow puppet hand motions for 'Yeti scratching his bottom'. "She thinks of Teban as her father, you know, and he's quite devoted to her."

"He's…very sweet," she said bashfully, "very…gentle." For a moment she looked like she was about to say more, but then she shot Tara a conspiratorial grin and fell silent. There was a knock on the door, and Deanne stood up.

"It's alright," she said, "it'll be Teban." Willow sat beside Tara, putting an arm around her waist, as Kristal took her mother's hand and went to the door. Deanne opened it to reveal a giant of a man, over six feet tall, whose leather pants and tunic could do little to conceal the huge muscles in his limbs and chest. He had a faint blue tattoo curling around one side of his face, and he glanced at Deanne and Kristal, his solemn face turning briefly to a smile, before staring at Willow and Tara, who were both wide-eyed at the sight of him.

"They're alright," Deanne said, turning to them. "Willow, Tara, this is Teban…my companion." Both got to their feet as the big man came into the room and stood carefully beside Deanne, inspecting them. He cautiously held out a hand, which Tara took, then Willow, and then he nodded to them and turned back to Deanne.

"I've left hot water for a bath," he said in a thickly-accented voice, "enough for two. And I'll be right down the hall." Deanne smiled, and he crouched down to smile at Kristal, who promptly threw her arms around his massive neck and hugged him.

"Sleep well, bear cub," he said with a grin, "I'll see you in the morning." Kristal kissed his cheek and let go of him, so he could stand back up to face Deanne.

"Sleep well," he said in a surprisingly gentle voice. Deanne stood up on tip-toes, giving her just enough height to kiss him quickly on the lips. Tara smiled as she saw Kristal roll her eyes theatrically.

"You too," Deanne said. Teban smiled at her, gave Willow and Tara a last stare, which was formidable but not unkind, and stepped back through the door, closing it behind him. Deanne smiled fondly at the closed door for a moment, then leant down to pick up Kristal.

"Don't worry," she said to Willow and Tara, "he's not really very talkative around people he doesn't know well. It's Kristal's bath time, I'll make sure there's enough hot water left for you both as well."

"Thanks," Tara said. Willow gave Deanne a smile, and Kristal a wink, as they vanished out the door, then she turned to Tara, wide-eyed and smiling.

"Did you see that guy?" she asked rhetorically. "He's not a bodyguard, he's a one-man army! And he and Deanne…?"

"Wow," Willow said. "Well, I guess I'm not the only one who's got a thing for big strong warriors."

"Oh, he was," Willow assured her, "I recognized that marking on his face, I saw a few people with those in Gotunberg."

"Un-huh," Willow agreed, "the northlands around Mount Arreat. He's a tribesman of Bul-Kathos – most people call them 'barbarians', and think they're just nomads, but Ember once told me they've got a huge city at the foot of the mountain." She looked thoughtfully at the door for a moment, then turned to Tara.

"You're really going to stay?" she asked suddenly. "When Tryptin and the other go home, I mean?"

"Of course," Tara said, enveloping Willow in a hug, "of course…I-I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner, I guess I hadn't really thought that far ahead, not properly, but of course I'll stay."

"Oh Tara," Willow managed to get out before her lips found Tara's. Tara was happy to let Willow take the lead, opening her mouth to her as they both moved to the bed and sat down without breaking the contact. Tara tightened her arms around Willow's waist, which seemed to ignite Willow's passion for her – Willow quickly straddled her thighs and leaned forward, following as Tara lay down, her lips and tongue working feverishly all the while.

"Oh gods Tara I love you," she breathed, barely moving her lips from Tara's as she spoke. "Oh gods…oh, we can't do this here," she groaned, "I'm about one second away from tearing off your clothes and just, gods, everything…kissing you all over…"

"Well, maybe I could take a turn at it, once in a while," Willow allowed, making no move to vacate her position lying on top of Tara. "After all, you look like you're having so much fun when you're kissing me 'til I can't think."

"Oh I am," Tara promised. Willow made an appreciative little growl, then settled on top of Tara and relaxed.

"Will you be okay?" Willow asked. "Away from home, I mean? It could be a while, you know, there's a lot of places I have to visit. All through Westmarch, and then up into Khanduras, and eventually over the desert to Lut Gholein and back to Kehjistan…we'd be on the road a long time."

"It sounds perfect," Tara said, "I get to see half the world with the woman I love." She fixed Willow with an intent stare. "There's no home I'd miss more than you."

"It won't be a problem to stay away, though?" Willow asked. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm so happy I could burst, I just want to know if there's any problems, you know, so we can talk about it, figure it out…"

"I know," Tara said, "it'll be okay. I-I think Solari was hoping I'd find out where I'm meant to be while I was on this trip. I guess neither of us thought I was meant to go back and join a warrior pride…I think she'll be happy. And I'll be able to help out, as well, we're taught how to support ourselves if we have to travel, you know. A lot of lords and garrison commanders would pay for an Amazon to train their men for a week or two, I wouldn't be a burden on you-"

"Oh gods, you could never be anything but a blessing to me," Willow murmured. She glanced at the door. "We should get ready for our bath," she added. Tara nodded and smiled as Willow lingered in getting off of her, sliding her body slowly down Tara's instead of just getting up.

"Thinking of hot water," Willow said, "I think we might pass near Soltram at some point…those hot springs sound good. Perhaps we can find one all to ourselves."

"Well, adults can have fun in the water too," Willow countered playfully, pulling a pair of thick nightshirts from the bag they had brought from the wagon.

Deanne and Kristal returned shortly, and Willow and Tara made their way to the small women's bathroom down the hall. Some rowdy sounds echoed up the stairs from the dining hall two floors below, but once Willow closed the door of the bathroom behind them it was as if they were in a little world of their own. Tara tipped the hot water warming over the fire into the empty tub, and smiled as Willow's hands stopped hers as she reached for the laces on her armor.

"Only if I get to return the favor," Tara replied. Willow removed her armor and boots, then her tunic and skirt, and finally knelt down to pull her underwear down her legs. She was breathing somewhat heavily through parted lips as she stood up.

"I want to kneel back down," Willow whispered in her ear, "put my head between your legs, and lick you and kiss you and taste you all night long. I know we can't here, like this, but gods Tara I want to taste you so much…" With trembling hands Tara removed Willow's tunic and bra as she kicked off her boots, and slid her skirt and briefs down her legs in one motion.

"Come here," Tara whispered, stepping into the steaming bath. Willow joined her, dipping a toe in the water first to find it just cool enough to step into, and Tara took her hands and gently lowered her down until they were kneeling in front of each other.

"W-we can't take too long here," Tara said quietly. Willow nodded. Tara shifted forward, straddling Willow's left thigh, and slipping her left leg between Willow's. Both open their mouths in silent gasps as they settled their weight onto each other's legs, Willow pressing her needy sex against Tara's thigh, and Tara against Willow's.

"We move," Tara breathed, "together." She held Willow's body tightly against hers, feeling Willow do the same, and began to move in a slow rhythm, rolling her hips. Willow matched her motion, both stimulating the other and feeling the heated results against their thighs.

"I know how much you want me," Tara whispered in Willow's ear, "I-I want you too, so much, all the time…think of it, Willow…one of those hot springs…it's night, the sky's full of stars looking down at us…just you and me, alone…I take off your clothes, you take off mine…we go into the water…you lie down at the edge of the pool, just your shoulders and head pillowed on the grass, the rest of you floating…I touch your legs, gently draw them apart…I kneel between your legs…lean down, kiss your thighs, getting closer and closer…the tender skin on your inner thighs…I touch you where no-one else ever has…you're so wet, Willow…"

Willow has closed her eyes, her body keeping up its slow dance with Tara as her mind pictured the scene Tara was painting for her. She could feel her juices on Tara's thigh, and Tara's sex wet and hot against hers. Tara held her tight, their breasts crushing together, their bodies sharing heat and motion, and she slowly increased their rhythm, whispering to her all the while.

"So wet…you want my mouth on your sex…I tease you…a tiny lick, here and there…teasing…before I kiss you…I open my lips on your sex…taste your arousal…drink it in…I work my tongue into you…deep inside you, Willow…you're moaning…moving…I want you to come, Willow…while I'm inside you…I want to taste you as you come…do you feel me, Willow? I need you…I'm licking deep in you sex…my lips pressed hard against you…my fingers are touching you, Willow, your sex, your clit…you're going to come…I'm going to taste you…your juices are going to flow into my mouth, and I'm going to drink you, your climax, Willow, you're going to be inside me, we're in each other, we're part of each other, you can't hold back, now, Willow, now, you're coming, so hot, so wet, you're coming…"

Willow trembled all over, her breath coming out in a shuddering sigh as she climaxed against Tara's thigh. At the same time she felt Tara press down against her, her skin soaked with the wetness of Tara's orgasm. Tara's voice was reduced to a breathy growl, but she continued to whisper, wrapped in the fantasy she had woven around Willow.

"Coming," she gasped, "yes…yes…my Willow…so sweet…oh goddess…" She took a deep breath and opened her eyes, staring at Willow.

"Oh baby," Willow murmured, "gods, I swear you could make me come just with your voice…" Tara smiled widely, and kissed her softly, tenderly, taking her time with a leisurely exploration of Willow's unresisting mouth.

"I guess," she said at last, "seeing as we're in a bath, we should probably wash…" She and Willow both slowly bathed each other, lavishing attention on each other's bodies as they went, and not lifting their sated centers off each other's thighs until they absolutely had to.

"I love you so much," Willow said quietly as Tara's hands dragged along her legs.

"Absolutely," Tara replied. They finished washing each other in silence, emptied the cooling water into the drain, and pulled on the nightshirts, returning to the bedroom with their clothes neatly folded. A single candle was all that lit the room, just enough for them to make out Deanne, with Kristal cradled lovingly in her arms. She was singing a soft lullaby to the girl, and looked up with slight apprehension as Willow and Tara pulled back the covers of their bed and slid underneath next to each other.

"It's okay," Tara replied quietly. Deanne resumed her singing, in some language neither Willow nor Tara recognized, and Willow smiled as she felt Tara curl up behind her, her arm as always draped across her waist. She murmured happily to herself as she heard Tara's voice join the melody, softly matching Deanne's as the song repeated itself. Willow laid her hand over Tara's, stroking it affectionately, then her eyes closed and she drifted off to sleep in Tara's arms. Deanne's singing quietened and finally stopped, and Tara looked across to see Kristal sleeping soundly in her protective embrace. Tara and Deanne exchanged smiles that acknowledged the bond of common experience they were sharing, one a mother loving her daughter, the other a woman loving her soulmate, both more thankful to the gods than words could possibly express.

Tara woke to the sound of someone moving around the room. She blinked in the sunlight lancing at a sharp angle across the floor from the room's small window, and saw Deanne already dressed, carrying a tray. She set it down on the nightstand, then glanced at Tara and smiled to see her awake.

"Your diplomat brought breakfast up from the kitchen," she explained in a whisper, careful not to wake Willow. "He asked me to tell you they're readying the caravan, but you still have time to eat before they leave."

"Thank you," Tara said quietly, glancing at the bread rolls on the tray. "Do you want some?"

"No, thank you," Deanne replied, "Teban brought our breakfast up earlier. We're setting out today as well, for Maresburg. I'll be in the bathroom with Kristal for a few minutes, take your time." She held out a hand for her daughter and they left the room, Deanne closing the door quietly behind her.

"Don' be silly, lobster can't fly," Willow argued sleepily, her voice slurred. She yawned and stretched, humming contentedly as Tara held her, then blinked open her eyes.

"Ah," Willow said, reaching for a bread roll. "You think maybe we'll have time to visit the bathroom ourselves?" she purred.

"Only enough time to actually visit the bathroom," Tara said, "we're setting out soon. Thank you," she added as Willow handed her a roll.

"I had a dream about you," Willow said between mouthfuls. "Usually it's weird stuff with demons and talking books and all that…though it's gotten a lot better since I started sleeping all snuggled up to you," she added with a grin. "This time it was lovely, though…nothing scary or strange, just you."

"Was I talking in my sleep?" Willow asked, frowning. "No, that was a different dream. And it wasn't flying, it was just trying to. And it kept falling off the roof and bouncing around the treetops, which it thought was flying, 'cause I guess lobsters don't know much about flying, being lobsters and all." She glared playfully at Tara, who was giggling to herself.

"Anyway," she said resolutely, "this other dream, you and I were in the wagon, except it was a huge wagon…and, um, well, I was naked, and you were looking at me, you know how you look at me," she smiled, "and…well, things progressed from there…I don't know if I should really go into that much detail if we have to get up so soon."

"You're right," Tara murmured, "you can tell me once we're in the wagon." Willow looked confused for a second, then comprehension dawned.

"Oh," she said, "right…well, then, I'll do that. Quietly, though, 'cause I don't think the driver really has to know that much about my fantasies." Tara smiled and reached beneath the blankets to pat Willow's bottom, at which Willow squeaked and batted Tara lightly on the nose with her bread roll.

Doing their best not to get delayed by banter and fooling around, they finished breakfast and laid out fresh clothes, visiting the bathroom separately to forestall temptation once Deanne and Kristal returned. Tara was sorry not to be spending more time with them, and she could see Willow's reluctance to say goodbye to the little girl, but she was warmed when Deanne quietly thanked her for her company, and gently hugged her. Teban appeared in the doorway at the same moment, and Tara thought she saw him nod his approval. The big man moved to stand in front of Tara, and held out his hand again, briefly clasping Tara's forearm in a warrior's manner.

"Deanne speaks well of your company," he said in his thick northlands accent. "Co'te'." Tara looked surprised, but was even more so when Teban turned to Willow, bowed, and said "Honored, Zann Esu."

"He spoke High Amazonian," Willow said after he, Deanne and Kristal had left to see to their horses.

"Maybe Deanne told him," Willow guessed, "or he recognized my belt…co'te' means he respects you?"

"Respect or honor," Tara said, gathering the previous day's clothed and packing them away. "It's used as a greeting between warriors…he must have met an Amazon at some point."

"That far north?" Tara pondered. "I don't know, I'd never heard of any of our people traveling that far, but it's possible, I suppose. Or maybe he's traveled before." She shrugged. "We should get a move on," she added, "we don't want to hold the caravan up."

Together they made short work of restoring the room to the condition they found it in, and made their way downstairs. Outside the town was significantly emptier than it had been the night before, and the people still around were mostly women and children. Tara guessed that most of the men were out working in the fields, not having the luxury of sleeping in. Tryptin motioned for her from where he was talking with the caravan master, and they spoke briefly before she and Willow packed their overnight bags back into their wagon. She was oddly glad to be back in the wagon with Willow – even though they had spent only a little time there, it felt like a home of sorts, and its comfort was a constant reminder of Willow's ingenuity. They left the roof rolled up as the caravan set out, but then, with gray clouds looming on the horizon, let it down and fastened it securely to the wagon's sides.

Tara finished securing her side of the wagon, and while pulling off her boots took a moment to watch Willow as she finished with the ties she was attaching. She was kneeling among the blankets, leaning over the stacked baggage and concentrating on tying the last leather strip securely, and remained oblivious to Tara as she stealthily crept up behind her. She jumped slightly as Tara touched her, then looked over her shoulder and smiled contentedly as Tara's fingers trailed along her leg, sneaking beneath her skirt to caress her thigh.

"I was thinking," Tara purred, "last night, after you went to sleep…about what you said yesterday, in the courtyard." Willow turned around, looking curious.

"Do you think what we've been doing is making love?" Tara asked softly. Willow considered the question briefly, loosely holding Tara around her waist.

"Yes," she replied, "yes, I do. I mean, there's things we haven't done yet, like take each other completely to climax, I-I'd like to do that…you know, um, without you touching yourself, just me… a-and I'd love to do the same for you, you know? Just…lie back and be completely yours." Tara nodded gently. "So, you know, that's something we haven't completely done yet, a-and it'll be very special, the first time we do…" She grinned and looked into Tara's eyes.

"But when I think about what we've done," she went on, "like last night, when we held each other, came together…or when I, you know," she poked her tongue out cheekily and momentarily dipped her eyes down Tara's body. "Or even, you remember when I told you about how I, um, masturbated while I was thinking of you, a-and you rubbed yourself against me, and I held you while you came?"

"Well," Willow said, smiling at Tara, "I was thinking, isn't all of that making love too? A-and I think it is. I feel that it is."

"No!" Willow said at once. "No, gods no, I…I can't think of any way this last fortnight could've been better. Well, not counting the psychotic mage and his evil-minded cousin, and demon summoning and stuff, but…you and me, no. It's been wonderful. I just wanted you to know, so… um, I know I've been a bit, well, forward with the touching and the kissing in intimate places," she blushed, "a-and I don't want you to think that any of that was just…playing around, to me."

"Oh Willow, I never thought that," Tara insisted. "That morning, when you held me," her voice dropped to a whisper, "when I climaxed, I knew you loved me, um, physically, completely."

"I did," Willow said, "I do. A-and I don't want you to think that I think we made a mistake telling ourselves we'd wait, even though we, well, we haven't really. I think it was good, you know. 'Cause I really did feel kind of overwhelmed at first, and I still do, except in a good way, like I can't believe how beautiful you are, how, how sensual, how erotic…" She teased Tara's earlobe with her tongue. "How wet you make me," she whispered.

"Um," she said, pulling back a little to meet Tara's aroused gaze, "what I meant is, just… knowing you felt the same way, that I wasn't the only one who was shy and nervous, a-and worried about making sure we did everything right…I wasn't so worried, you know? Like, it's okay to be nervous, 'cause we're nervous together. Mmm, everything is perfect when we're together," she added, her hands stroking gently up and down Tara's back, fingernails scraping against the soft leather covering her torso.

"So," Willow went on, "I guess I kind of told myself that so long as we were both nervous, and holding off the big moment for a little while, it was okay to…explore, you know? I didn't feel so overwhelmed about finding out how I could please you, a-and how you could please me…and I guess it just felt like the most natural thing in the world to do. And it was, it's- every time you touch me, in every way, it feels so right I could cry. Cry in a good way, obviously," she smiled.

"I want," Willow hesitated. "You know what, I want us to keep going the way we are. Just exploring, a-and making love, and…it's everything I want, Tara, you're everything I want. And still, when we get our own room, it'll still be so special to me, it'll be our first time to, to make love all night, to not have to worry about being overheard, or whether we'll be interrupted, or any of that… it'll be a dream coming true. Just, right now, I wanted to have you know, a-and kind of have myself know as well, that we've made love, a-and I'm not worried about it, or pretending it didn't count, or anything…I want you to know that I'm your lover, Tara, in every way, and there's nothing I'm afraid of, or hesitant about, or that I don't think we're ready for…um, did that make any sense?"

"Yes," Tara said, kissing Willow softly on the lips, "completely…and you're not the only one who was nervous…but I feel so…so free…" Tara stared at Willow, her eyes filling with tears, and then she hugged her tightly, whispering in her ear: "My lover…oh, Willow, my lover…"

"Nothing of the sort," Tara said firmly. "Let it be decreed that we have made love…and it was wonderful, every time." She grinned at Willow.

"I second that decree," Willow said. "Um, you don't think that…well, the way I've been looking forward to our so-called first night…I haven't sort of undermined that, have I?"

"Not at all," Tara promised. "It'll be the first time we have a whole, uninterrupted, night as lovers, all to ourselves…an open fire warming the room…a huge bed…silky sheets beneath us… no-one to overhear when you scream my name…" She fixed Willow with a lusty smile.

"It'll be what our lovemaking is preparing us for," Tara promised, "the pinnacle of our pleasure…nothing in the whole world besides you, and me, and all the ways we can please each other…all night…"

"All night?" Willow asked weakly, holding Tara as if she wasn't sure she could kneel upright on her own.

"All night," Tara repeated. "The last thing we'll see, before you and I fall asleep, completely exhausted, sated in every way, and with each other's tastes on our tongues, will be the sun coming through the window."

"Gods it's working," Willow said. "What if we get there and there isn't a fireplace?"

"Then we'll make our own fire," Tara assured her. Willow sat back on her heels and fanned herself with her hand.

"I think we're doing that already," she said. She suddenly got an amused expression, and then burst out laughing.

"I just thought of yesterday morning," Willow explained between giggles, "um, kissing and licking you, down there, and thinking we were waiting until the right moment to make love." Tara laughed too.

"Heh," she chuckled, "yeah, the strange notions that young, naïve lovers have."

"Just as well we're experienced and wise in the ways of the world," Willow countered, sending Tara off into another fit of laughter.

"Do you think the town criers will be out informing everyone?" Tara asked playfully.

"Tease," Willow said, swatting Tara lightly on the bottom. "Just you wait…once that bedroom door closes behind us, you're not going to know your own name."

"Ambitious, are you?" Willow asked slyly. "Well, don't get too confident, I've got plans for you, my luscious Amazon."

"I'm sure you do," Tara purred. "In fact, you were going to tell me all about your dream…?"

"Oh, yes," Willow said gleefully. She turned around to lie back in Tara's arms, snuggling up against Tara as she snuck an arm around Willow's waist. "We were here, except the blankets went on for ever, and there was no-one to overhear us…I was naked, a-and all wet, like I'd just had a bath, and my skin felt all warm and tingly…and then you were there, all shining bronze and perfect, smooth skin, like you were at the dance…my warrior. And you kissed me, like you do when you get wild, all passion a-and, and totally sexual. You were holding me tightly, I could feel your gloves on my back, pressing into me, and I felt like I was coming, just from being kissed…I know it was just a dream, but it felt so…like I couldn't stop, as long as you kissed me I just kept on coming, and I was soooo wet," she wriggled in Tara's embrace, and spied Tara's other hand stroking her own thigh beside her.

"And then," she went on, "you stopped kissing me, except I didn't stop, I needed to feel you again my lips…a-and the way you looked at me, it was…you know how you look at me, as if your stare is sliding into me and tickling my sex from the inside…"

"You certainly do," Willow confirmed. "So I knelt down and, and that little half-skirt that goes with your armor, I pulled that up, a-and you weren't wearing anything underneath it…and just thinking about us like that, I mean, you in all your armor, all proud and strong and Amazon…and me kneeling in front of you, completely naked, leaning forward, reaching out with my tongue to lick your sex…gods I was so wet!" She paused to enjoy the recollection, and became aware of Tara's hand moving behind her, creeping down below Tara's own waist.

"I want you to turn around," Tara murmured, "and keep telling me what happened…I did promise you could watch me, didn't I?" Willow's eyes were wide as could be as she slowly got up and turned. Tara met her stare easily, and then Willow's gaze slid down her body to take in the sight of her lover touching herself. With the hand that had been around Willow's waist, Tara was slowly unlacing her leathers, but her other hand was already tugging her skirt up around her waist, her fingers stroking over the material of her underwear.

"You were saying," Tara prompted in a seductive, breathless voice, "you were wet?"

"Uh-huh," Willow said automatically. With an effort she tore her eyes away from Tara's hand and met her gaze.

"No," Tara said gently, "watch. That's right," she added as Willow's eyes returned to her fingers, which were steadily making their way underneath the waistband of her briefs.

"Um," Willow said, her mouth suddenly dry, "I-I reached out with my tongue, a-and I looked up at you as I did it, and you were watching me…you said 'Taste', so I leaned forward the last little bit," Willow gulped as Tara pulled off her leathers and her tunic in one smooth motion, tossing them aside and returning her free hand to herself, alternating between her nipples, rolling and pinching them to hardened peaks straining from her breasts.

"I…tasted you," Willow managed to whisper, "first…just outside…I-I licked your thighs, y-your wetness was…all over them…a-and I knew I had to get every bit of it…"

"I think," Tara breathed, "these panties are getting in my way…would you get rid of them for me?" Tara watched with a pleased, aroused smile as Willow reached out trembling hands and hooked her fingers through the waistband of the skirt hugging Tara's hips. As she leaned over Tara's lap the scent of her arousal was so intense Willow found it intoxicating, and she breathed deeply, letting it out in a shuddering sigh. When she finally leaned back, dragging Tara's skirt and underwear down her legs, Tara licked her lips at the sight of her, cheeks flushed with desire, lips parted, her chest moving visibly with her rapid breathing, quite obviously painfully excited. Tara lifted her right leg and gently rested her calf on Willow's shoulder, her fingers stroking her inner thigh.

"I was wet here?" she asked. Willow nodded. "And here?" Tara asked, moving her fingers up to the top of her thigh, just next to the glistening lips of her sex. Again Willow nodded, trembling as she saw that Tara's wetness wasn't imagined.

"My, my," Tara teased, "you made me very wet indeed, didn't you? Where else was I wet, my lover?"

"A-all…all over," Willow whispered. "Y-your, your clit…" Tara's fingers skipped lightly across her sex, her fingertips coming to rest on either side of her clit. Slowly she circled it, teasing herself by almost touching it, then pulling back. Finally she ran one finger over it, making her legs tremble.

"Ohhhhh," Tara moaned quietly, "I'm sure…you enjoyed…licking me there…" Willow nodded, entranced. "Where else?" Tara breathed.

"Y-y-your, y-your l-l…y-your lips," Willow said, finding her voice suddenly difficult to control. Tara moved her fingers slightly, slipping two between her lips just below her clit and moving downwards, using them to open herself, letting Willow see the copious moisture covering the silky tenderness hidden between them.

"Like…this?" Tara gasped. Willow nodded, unable to tear her eyes away from the erotic display Tara was providing for her. Tara held her lips open with her fore and ring finger, and teased her opening with her index finger.

"And where…" she said breathily, "was I…most…wet…?" Willow took a deep breath as Tara's fingertip began to slip just a fraction inwards, and tried to muster command of her voice one last time.

"I-i-in-inside," she managed. With maddening slowness, Tara slipped the tip of her finger into her center, and let out a long, heartfelt sigh as the rest of her index finger followed it. When at last she was as deep as she could go, she drew her finger out, glistening with wetness, until just the tip remained inside her. Her thumb moved close to her clit, but didn't yet touch it.

"Again?" she whispered. Willow was completely unable to speak, and simply nodded. Tara slid her finger back into herself, rolling her hips slightly as she did so and letting out a contented little sigh. She began leisurely stroking her finger in and out of her sex, building momentum with tortuous patience, her thumb beginning to rub up close to her clit.

"Do you…like…watching me…Willow?" Tara breathed. Willow nodded. "Do you?" Tara purred.

"You…can see…my finger…covered in…my juices," Tara went on between sighs, "can't you…yes…and…you can…smell my…wetness…in the air…I want you…naked…Willow… please…" With her eyes never leaving Tara, Willow began to struggle out of her clothes as fast as she could, kicking her boots off, pulling her top quickly over her head and off, undoing her belt and dragging down her skirt and briefs at the same time.

"Mmm," Tara purred appreciatively, "now…it's just like…your dream…you're naked…in front of…your Amazon…come closer…" She planted her feet on either side of Willow and spread her legs, giving her room to kneel between her thighs.

"I'm going…to come," Tara panted, her chest rising and falling dramatically as she gulped down one lungful of air after another. "I…want to…for you…I want you…to watch me…to be… excited…by watching…me…tell me…Willow…"

"Oh gods baby," Willow babbled, barely able to contain herself to a whisper, "you're making me so hot, you're so sexy, oh gods you're unbelievable, there's nothing in the world that can turn me on like you, like watching you naked, playing with your gorgeous breasts, reaching deep inside your sex, you're the most erotic sight in the whole world baby, just looking at you makes me so wet…" As Willow spoke Tara stared into her eyes, the pace of her hands increasing rapidly. Her finger became a blur, sliding completely out of her before plunging back in, and her thumb rubbed back and forth furiously, dipping down to gather the juices gushing from her and spreading them over her clit.

"Kiss me," she said quickly, her voice strained. Willow practically leapt on her, her tongue diving into Tara's mouth the instant her lips were open, her body moving in rhythm with Tara's thrusts beneath her. Tara's thighs clamped around her waist, holding her tight, as she drove her finger into her sex one last time, burying it deep as she came. Her helpless moaning was fortunately muffled by Willow's mouth, which became more gentle and carefree as Tara's orgasm washed over her, and slowly began to fade, leaving her weak in Willow's arms.

"Oh goddess," Tara moaned as Willow kissed her repeatedly, "oh you wonderful goddess…"

"The way you looked at me," Tara whispered, her breathing steadying slowly, "the…oh goddess, what I saw in your eyes…i-it felt like your gaze was reaching into me, like you were touching me all over…oh Willow, you made me feel so, so…" she searched for the right word, "…so sexual."

"Absolutely always," Willow promised, "don't even try to deny it…behind that shy Amazon exterior you're the most sensual, loving, erotic…oh, gods, hot! woman in all the world. A-and just knowing you want me, you love me, knowing I'm the one who gets to touch you…gods Tara, you just have to look at me and I get wet!" Tara smiled broadly and held Willow to her, kissing her neck and working her way up to lick around her ear.

"So," she breathed, warming the moist skin her lips had left in their wake, "am I right in thinking that watching me come for you has made you very wet?" She kissed Willow's ear and wiggled her tongue a little, making her shudder in delight.

"That's just as well," Tara went on, using that special growling murmur of hers that made Willow's knees weak, "because all this activity has made me very…very…thirsty. Are you wet enough to quench my thirst, my Willow?"

"I-if you keep sucking my earlobe like that," Willow said in a trembling voice, "I'm gonna get so wet I'll flood the wagon."

"Mmm," Tara purred, "we can't have that, can we…but my lips just seem to want to play with you…perhaps I should move them somewhere else? Would you like that, Willow?"

"Please," Willow moaned. Tara moved to Willow's lips and kissed her with such passion that it left her breathless and writhing.

"Say it," Tara whispered. Willow gulped down a lungful of air and fixed her with an unbreakable gaze.

"Kiss my sex," she said, her voice coming out as an aroused growl, "just like that. I want your beautiful tongue inside me right now." A smile spread across Tara's face like the rising sun, and she blinked once, slowly, watching Willow seductively from beneath her lashes.

"Lie down baby," she murmured, "spread your legs for me." Willow enthusiastically complied, leaning back among the soft blankets, parting her thighs, raising her legs and resting her heels on top of the stacked crates and luggage sacks on either side of her. She lifted her head and looked down, between her legs, at where Tara was leaning over her with a hungry gleam in her eyes.

"See anything you like?" she said with a glowing smile. Tara nodded mutely, and watched as Willow reached down and gently spread the lips of her sex, revealing herself completely and unashamedly.

"Yours," she whispered. Tara lowered herself between Willow's smooth thighs and inhaled her scent, closing her eyes amid fantasies of what she was about to do. Slowly, with infinite care, she let her head drop and pressed her lips to Willow's sex, as Willow's fingers retreated out of her way. For a moment she was unable to move, the experience of the softness of Willow against her mouth too much for her. Then, daring, she leaned back just a fraction and extended her tongue, touching it to the bottom of Willow's lips and dragging it the whole length of her sex, tasting her wetness, finishing with a flourish over her clit.

"Oooooh," Willow moaned quietly, her head dropping back. Tara ran her tongue through Willow's sex again, and again, faster this time, feeling giddy as Willow's thighs trembled on either side of her head and her hips rose up off the blankets. She cheekily rubbed Willow's clit with her nose, eliciting a desperate moan from her, before closing her lips around it and sucking gently, flicking her tongue from side to side.

"Oh!" Willow exclaimed, barely keeping her voice down. "Oh Tara! My goddess, oh!" Her hands wound into Tara's hair and held her firmly against her sex, inviting more intense contact which Tara was only too pleased to provide. She pressed her lips firmly around Willow's clit, applying just enough pressure to make her squirm in delight, then opened her mouth wide, as if trying to swallow her sex whole. Willow tossed her head from side to side as the heat covering her suddenly matched the heat within her, then bit a mouthful of blanket and moaned as Tara entered her.

Tara found, with her head at its current angle, the tip of her nose was at just the right level to continue stimulating Willow's clit, and devoted a fraction of her consciousness to keeping the little bundle of nerves humming with joy. The rest of her thoughts she gave over to tasting Willow, deeply and completely, reaching with her tongue as far into Willow as she could, retreating to play with her lips, then diving in again to swirl around the entrance to her sex. She felt Willow's hands holding her and eagerly allowed herself to be pressed into her, smiling as she felt Willow's juices cover her lips and chin.

She could feel Willow was perilously close, both from the erratic clutching of her fingers in her hair, and from the desperate way she thrust her hips up to meet every foray Tara made into her sex. She allowed herself one last, long drinking of Willow's arousal from its source, then as she felt Willow start to convulse she lifted her mouth to her clit, closed around it, and using her lips to shield the sensitive nub from her teeth, bit down gently but firmly, her tongue flickering from side to side like the wings of a hummingbird.

"Mmmmmnngggh!" Willow groaned, fortunately muffled by her blanket. Tara wrapped her arms beneath Willow's waist and held her sex against her mouth, refusing to allow her climactic kiss to be interrupted even when the tension collapsed out of Willow's legs, leaving her hips suspended above the blankets by the strength in Tara's arms alone. Her legs fell off their perches and lay along the length of Tara's back, her thighs pressing in on either side of her head, her toes curling in delight against the backs of Tara's thighs.

Finally Willow lay still, her fingers relaxing in Tara's hair, and Tara gently let her weight back down onto the blankets. Only then did she give up her kiss, moving very slowly to avoid causing any discomfort to Willow's over-stimulated clit as she parted her lips and leant back. With perfectly delicate care she licked the wetness from Willow's sex, her tongue as light and soft as a cloud of vapor. Willow seemed to be in a world of her own, murmuring incoherently at Tara's ministrations. She opened her eyes when Tara had at last sated her thirst and moved up to lie beside her.

"A-are you okay?" Tara asked gently. She wasn't truly worried, but seeing Willow so overcome by her exertions, she had to ask.

"Okay?" Willow echoed weakly. "Try blissfully wonderful…indescribably joyous…utterly, utterly pleased…come here and kiss me, my Tara…" Tara brushed her lips against Willow's, and found she wasn't nearly as exhausted as she appeared as she immediately deepened the kiss, her tongue reaching into Tara's mouth to caress hers.

"Mmm," Willow murmured, "that's a distinctive taste…someone's been at the Willow-juice, have they?"

"I thought that might be what you were up to," Willow replied, "but then I figured it had to be some secret Amazon magic where you swallowed my soul and surrounded it with complete, mind-blowing pleasure…something like that."

"Well then," Willow said, lifting a leg to run her calf along the back of Tara's thigh, "just make sure you keep my soul nice and warm, won't you?"

It was with considerable reluctance that Tara finally finished getting dressed, and turned to see Willow fixing her belt in place, and giving her a long-suffering expression. She ventured a sympathetic smile, and got in return a sneaky grin that showed Willow was far from being as perturbed as she was pretending.

"You're sure you don't want to lunch here?" Willow tried again, reaching out to run a finger along Tara's neck, ending up stroking her cheek. "We've got plenty of food…fresh fruit juice…and you'll love desert," she added, licking her lips.

"I told you, sweetie," Tara said reasonably, indulging Willow's playful sulk, "Tryptin said we should meet him once the caravan stopped. And we've stopped, so no matter how," she paused and caught Willow's finger between her lips, sucking for a moment before letting go, "…appetizing that sounds, we really should go."

"Hrmph," Willow vocalized her adorably indignant frown, while Tara gave her finger one last kiss and moved to rear of the wagon to get out. "He's lucky he's so nice, otherwise he'd have a very disgruntled sorceress on his hands."

"Come on," Tara said, offering Willow her hand as she let herself down to the ground. Willow graciously let herself be helped down, not protesting that Tara held her quite a bit more firmly than was strictly necessary for the tiny drop from the tailboard.

"By the way," Tara murmured, leading the way up the column to Tryptin's wagon, "do you think I might be able to sample that desert you mentioned anyway?"

"Well, it could be arranged," Willow admitted with a smile, "if you're good. Luckily for you, the desert really, really wants to be sampled…"

"I don't doubt it," Willow whispered, before raising her voice to greet Tryptin, who was waiting outside his wagon with four other men, two of them already seated on wooden stools around a plain camp table.

"Miss Willow, good day. Tara," he said, nodding to both of them. They quickly greeted the others: Shan the caravan captain, Jasken the gemstone dealer, the Kingsport lieutenant commanding the guards, who introduced himself as Kert, and the leader of the Duncraig ambassadors who Tara had met when he and his people arrives at the Baron's castle, a middle-aged, portly man with bristling white whiskers, called Gerrid. As they shook hands Melcan hurried around, bringing enough stools for everyone to sit, and fetching bread from the supply wagon.

"I'm sorry to interrupt everyone's day," Shan said once they were all seated, and Gerrid has wasted no time attacking his bread roll, "but the next stage of our journey will not be as easy as we had hoped, and it seems prudent that we all be aware of what lies ahead. And, as we're in this together, we should all have our say."

"Quite right," Gerrid observed, holding up a napkin to keep from spraying crumbs over his tunic. Shan smiled blandly at him, then nodded to Kert.

"Sirs, ladies," he began, "we're four days from the next settlement that's anything to speak of, Torrestad. We knew there would be a possibility of some bandits operating along the road, and we're prepared for that - frankly, it's been twenty years or more since a caravan this size had to worry about attack from brigands. Nevertheless I spent some time last night sounding out the travelers staying at the inn, as well as the locals, and some of what I learned was disturbing. You'd have noticed the locals weren't keen on spending the night outside the town walls - well, there's been stories going around of livestock being killed or stolen, and even some reports of people going missing, solitary travelers and the like. There's some unpleasant rumors going around. I can't say how reliable these rumors are, but I judge that some solid men were believing them, so there may be something to them."

"They say Carvers are about," Kert said grimly. "I met no-one who'd seen one, but that was the general consensus, and if you ask me it may not be just tall tales. There used to be some big groups living along the northern borders, back in my father's day - there were expeditions to wipe them out, but it's not unlikely some survived, and have been breeding."

Tara noticed Willow nodding grimly, and ventured a question in the lull that followed Kert's report: "Um, wh-what are Carvers?"

"They're demons," Willow said flatly, "small creatures, no real magical power, but they came from demon blood."

"No," Willow explained, "but my order has detailed accounts of all the breeds of demons that survived the end of the Sin War. I've studied them."

"Well miss, you probably know more than me," Kert conceded, "all I know is the stories my father told." He looked at her expectantly, and she blinked, suddenly finding herself the center of attention. Tara gave her a little smile as she glanced her way, and she relaxed somewhat, leaning forward as she spoke.

"They're a hybrid," she explained, "demons that were brought here during the Sin War by the Prime Evils, and bred with living creatures. They still look like the demons they came from, but they can breed, age and die, just like natural animals. The Prime Evils started creating hybrids when the old Horadrim mages perfected their banishing spells - a hybrid demon is born of this world, and can't be banished any more than a person could be. Luckily they're not as powerful as real demons, but they're still a real danger, especially in large numbers. Carvers aren't the strongest or smartest of the hybrids that survived the end of the war, but they've got a strong urge to group together, and they can breed fast. A lot of them were killed during the Reckoning, but not all. They were still having trouble wiping out the last bands of them in Entsteig when I was there."

"Oh. Um, they're about four feet tall at most, strong for their size, but a trailed soldier won't be overpowered by one of them. But they attack in groups usually, one of them on its own would never attack unless it was sure its victim was defenseless. They mostly come out at night. They use weapons, but not very well. Some of the very old ones can do simple cantrips, very rudimentary fire magic. Oh, and there's some evidence to suggest that they can animate their dead for a short period, I'm not sure how."

"Very," Willow said, "their skin varies, red and brown usually, but some of the cave-dwellers paint themselves blue or black. They've got horns, claws, prominent fangs…you can't miss them," she added with a wry grin.

"Then we'll have no trouble spotting them if they're about," Kert said. "How smart are they?"

"They're vicious," Willow said, "cunning, in a rudimentary way, but not very bright…they know enough to band together to attack people, but not much more than that. They tend to attack anything that they think is vulnerable, and run at the first sign of real trouble."

"That tallies with what I've heard," Kert commented. "From the sound of things in Sorenstad there's not enough of these creatures to pose a serious threat, but it's possible they may be damn fool enough to attack anyway. If that happens, we can't afford to be careless. Alright, I need to know now who among you can fight, if need be."

"My men are trained to defend themselves," Tryptin said, "but they're not soldiers."

"I am," Tara said before anyone else could speak. "I can fight. I-if we have to."

"And me," Willow added. "Not hand to hand, of course, but I can cast strong cold magic."

"My ambassadors are not untrained," Gerrid offered, "but we're not exactly suited to battle, if you take my meaning."

"Very well," Kert said. "I've got three squads of guards, so I don't expect any of you or your people will have to fight, but it's best to know, just in case. Sir," he said, turning to Shan, "in light of the lady's advice, I recommend we scout for defensible locations every night, and if that means we have to stop while it's still light, better that than be out in the open while it's dark."

"Sound advice," Shan said, "so be it. We won't halt for lunch beyond today, either. I'll make sure we set a pace the horses can keep up, and we'll be ready to move fast if need be. You'll handle the disposition of your guards?"

"Yes sir," Kert said, "we'll divide into three watches, and the night watch will be at full strength. During the day I'll have riders ahead and on our flanks, scouting out to several miles. With luck, if there's any trouble we'll see it before it sees us. I'll ask all of you not to ride out from the caravan without seeing me first. Under the circumstances, sightseeing is a luxury we may have to forego. Miss," he added, to Willow, "I'd like a word with you, if you please." After a few pleasantries the meeting ended, and Willow and Tara both went to stand with Kert while the others dispersed back to their wagons.

"This business of the creatures using magic, miss," he said to Willow, "what can they do, exactly? What kind of threat are they?"

"Well, this is second-hand," Willow cautioned, "but the library my order keeps is among the best. The most common reports have the very old ones casting fire missiles, like weak versions of the spells a fire sorceress would use - you know, fireballs? Um, I suppose they're about the same threat as an archer, more or less. It's unlikely they'd get through solid leather armor, but the burns could be bad, and if they hit the face…" she shrugged and frowned. "The ones who can cast will probably carry banners or totems of some kind, and they'll probably have some kind of decoration, like warpaint, or symbols on necklaces, that sort of thing. They shouldn't be more difficult to kill than the younger ones, maybe a bit weaker even. We're taught, if we encounter them, to target any of them that stand out, to stop them casting, and to help scatter the others."

"I'll let my men know," Kert said, "if we run into any of these spell-casters, we'll be ready for that. I've got some crossbowmen who won't miss their shots. What about animating their dead?"

"Oh, that's not really confirmed," Willow said, "there's records of people seeing Carvers die, and then come back to life, and they say the spell-casters have some ability to bring them back to life. It's possible, they're not entirely natural creatures after all, so maybe it's not difficult for the old ones to use a sort of primitive necromancy. The, um, the life force animating them isn't really natural to begin with."

"We've got some experience dealing with undead," Kert said grimly. "Would you say they'd be able to rise if their head was cut off?"

"I'll instruct my men," Kert said, "we'll see to it. I'm grateful for your help, miss." He nodded politely to Tara, then turned and hurried off towards the large wagons where the off-duty guards were housed. Willow took Tara's hand as they walked back to their wagon.

"Well, nothing like lesser demons to brighten up the day," Willow said with a wry grin.

"We'll be okay," Tara said softly as they climbed back into their temporary home, "there's lots of guards, and the lieutenant was just being thorough."

"I'll protect you," Tara added, kneeling behind Willow. "I-if need be…I won't let them hurt you." Willow turned and gazed at her, tenderly holding both her hands.

"Thank you," she whispered. She blinked back a tear and kissed Tara, slowly and gently, expressing her gratitude for the sense of safety she found in Tara's arms.

"I won't let them hurt you either," Willow promised. "Anything that even looks at you funny is going to get a faceful of ice shards." She and Tara stayed where they were for a moment, gaining strength from each other in a difficult moment. Eventually their determined stares turned to grins, and the tension that had built up during the meeting faded.

"Well then," Willow said eventually, "does my beautiful Amazon feel like more lunch, or would she like to sample that desert I mentioned?"

"I think," Tara replied, making a show of considering her options, "she'd like…the desert." Willow smiled wider and leaned up against Tara.

"In that case, close your eyes," she whispered. Tara did so, and felt Willow lean away from her for a moment before returning to press against her side. There was a rustling noise which Tara guessed was a package being unwrapped, and then she felt something smooth and slightly cool against her lips. She opened her mouth and Willow slid the small something inside. Tara bit down and smiled.

"That's right," Willow murmured, "but that was just an introduction, to get you started." She shifted position again, and Tara couldn't quite figure out what she was doing. A moment later she felt Willow touch another cherry to her lips, and she reached for it.

"Slowly, slowly," Willow admonished her, darting out of reach of her lips. Tara patiently waited, and slowly opened her mouth as Willow touched her again, this time content to run her tongue over the little fruit as Willow slipped it between her lips.

"There's no fooling you," Willow said. "Would you like another?" Tara nodded. "Open your eyes," Willow said. Tara did so to see her holding a cherry up by its stalk, dangling it in front of her. As she watched Willow lowered the cherry, trailing it down her cleavage as far as her top would allow, then reaching down lower. Tara noticed her skirt was lying to one side, leaving her with an unobstructed view as Willow gently pressed the cherry against the lips of her sex, rolling it around to cover it with her wetness. She shuddered slightly, and Tara gulped. When she was satisfied with her efforts she held the cherry up again, now glistening with her juices, carefully pulled it off its stalk, and offered it to Tara.

"Eat up," she whispered. Tara leaned forward, her lips closing around Willow's fingers. She kept them captured in her mouth as she ran her tongue over the cherry, and grazed her fingertips with her teeth when she bit down on it.

"I hope that tastes as good as it feels," Willow murmured, reaching down to the handful of cherries in their crumpled wrapping paper beside her. Tara's hand stopped her.

"Would you like to find out?" she whispered. Willow smiled and nodded eagerly, folding her hands in her lap and waiting patiently as Tara took the time to unlace the side of her skirt, rather than just slide it down her legs. She grinned a mischievous grin when Tara finished, revealing herself to be naked underneath.

"I didn't think you were wearing anything under that," she observed. Tara glanced at her, mingling shyness and playfulness in her expression.

"I'm not the only one," she countered, glancing down at the reddish curls just visible above Willow's hands in her lap. Tara leaned close to her and whispered in her ear: "Tell me, were you hoping we'd get back here quickly, or did you plan on taking me behind the supply wagon when no-one was looking?"

"Oh gods," Willow whispered, "don't give me ideas." Tara kissed her quickly, just long enough for her tongue to dart out and touch Willow's, before sitting back on her heels with her thighs parted, and taking a cherry from Willow's stash.

"First," she said, "just to get you started…" She held up the cherry for Willow, and smiled as she leaned forward and bit it, pulling it off its stalk.

"Well," Tara said softly, taking another one, "let me see what I can do about that." She dragged the cherry along her thigh, smiling at the way Willow's eyes followed every move. When she reached her sex she teased her clit for a moment, purring in the back of her throat, before sliding the cherry a little lower. With her other hand she parted her lips, running the smooth little cherry up and down the length of her sex, covering it liberally in her juices.

"Mmm-mmm," she murmured, "I think that's done the trick." With one last stroke, pressing the fruit firmly against herself, she plucked it off its stem and offered it to Willow. Willow leaned forward, reaching out to flick the tip of her tongue over the cherry and Tara's fingers, before closing her lips around both and sucking heartily.

"Perfect," she whispered as she leaned back, releasing Tara's empty fingers. She quickly grabbed another cherry from the pile and reached between Tara's legs. "My turn," she said. Tara leaned back, opening her thighs wider and presenting herself to Willow, who took far longer than was necessary bathing the cherry and her fingers in Tara's warm juices.

"You're insatiable," she grinned, "here I am, innocently preparing a cherry for you to eat, and you're getting all hot and wet about it."

"Mmm-hmm," Tara agreed, "now why don't you bring those innocent fingers of yours up here?" With a smile Willow complied, watching as the cherry vanished between Tara's lips with a flourish of her tongue.

"So which is better?" she asked, reaching for another, "Willow-juice or Tara-juice?"

"Hmm," Tara considered, "well, I have to admit, there's a definite attraction to your method of gathering Tara-juice." She smiled as Willow rolled the cherry against her sex. "But," she gasped, "Willow-juice comes straight from the body of a goddess…so there's really no contest."

"Ooh, someone's sweet-talking me," Willow said with a grin. "Won't your other gods get jealous?" She slipped the cherry into Tara's mouth.

"They've got their own lovers," Tara said, "you're all mine." Willow was already reaching for another.

"That I am," she agreed, touching the cherry to her sex before offering it to Tara. She reached back for another one.

"I think I will," Willow agreed, "but only if I get to prepare it." She pulled the cherry from its stalk and held it between her fingertips, nudging it between the lips of Tara's sex. Grinning at Tara, she pressed it in a little more, so that it stayed in place when she let go of it.

"Oops," she said unashamedly, "slippery little thing. Guess I'll have to go down and get it, won't I?" She gently lay Tara down, kissing her all the while, then slowly made her way down her body, pausing to lick her cleavage, and lifting up the bottom of her tunic to kiss her stomach.

"All yours, baby," Willow whispered. "And you're my goddess, too. Time for me to worship you." Tara whimpered as she felt Willow's lips close around her clit, starting a patient rhythm of licking and sucking that quickly had her writhing. Willow began to make forays down the length of her sex, kissing and nibbling gently on her lips. Finally she snuck her tongue between them and scooped out the errant cherry. She held it between her teeth as she made her way back up Tara's body, brushing her cheek against her stomach and nuzzling her cleavage on her way.

"Care for a bite?" she said, lisping slightly to keep from squashing the cherry between her teeth. Tara nodded, her eyes betraying a little o how desperately she wanted to feel Willow between her legs again. Smiling, Willow lowered her lips to Tara's and released the cherry into her mouth, continuing to kiss her as Tara chewed and swallowed the fruit.

"We're all out of cherries," Willow murmured, grinning seductively, "but I was thinking, perhaps I might just taste a little more of that luscious flavoring? What do you think?"

"Your wish is my pleasure," Willow whispered with a smile. Again she took her time making her way down Tara's body, even halting and retracing her path up for a short while, pushing Tara's tunic out of the way and reaching underneath her to undo her bra. With Tara's breasts revealed to her she patiently nibbled and licked each nipple to excruciating hardness, all the while aware of how Tara's hips were slowly grinding against her waist further down. She pulled her own top over her head, leaving her clad only in her bra and her boots, and arched her back, feeling Tara's warmth against her skin.

"My Tara is very, very hot," she murmured, kissing her nipples between the words, "perhaps I should attend to her right away…or perhaps I should keep teasing her…what do you think?"

"Oh yes," Tara whispered, "goddess, you make me feel so wonderful…" Willow grinned and engulfed Tara's right nipple in her mouth, sucking it to full attention before gently but firmly taking it between her teeth. She bit down and tugged on it, not too hard, but enough to make Tara gasp and shudder beneath her.

"Oh yes," Tara said in a whispered moan, "oh yes, my Willow, just like that…oh goddess, I think I'm going to come…" Willow gave her nipple one last bite and tug, a little harder, then released her and moved her head to the other side of Tara's chest. At the same time she slid her hand down to Tara's sex and gently slipped a finger between her folds, teasing her entrance. She looked up at Tara, who was gazing down at her, eyes half-closed in pleasure, her breath coming in gasps between her moist lips.

"Do it," Tara growled, clenching her teeth. Willow gently sucked her nipple for a moment, giving her time to anticipate what was to come, and rocking her finger back and forth with just the tip inside Tara. Her other hand covered Tara's neglected right breast, thumb and forefinger converging on her nipple, the rest of her fingers pressing into Tara's soft flesh. Then, at the same moment, she thrust deep inside her sex, and bit down on her nipple, her face pressing into the softness of her breast as she held the hard nub between her teeth and licked it.

"Mmmm!" Tara moaned, clamping her mouth shut to keep from crying out. Her hands flew to Willow, one on the back of her head, holding Willow to her breast, the other covering Willow's hand between her legs, pushing her finger as deep as it could go and refusing to release her. Willow eased off on Tara's nipple just a fraction, giving more attention to licking that biting, and moaned quietly in the back of her throat as she felt Tara's sex clench around her, her body spasming and her juices flowing freely.

As Tara's body slowly stopped shuddering Willow let go of her nipple completely, and tenderly licked and kissed it, as if soothing it after her strenuous treatment. She slowly withdrew her finger from Tara, causing little tremors to run through her hips and thighs as she turned it this way and that. Tara regained the strength in her arms and gently urged Willow up, enveloping her in a warm hug as they lay side by side.

"I…" Willow said, a little nervously despite her smile, "that didn't…hurt? Did it?"

"You're sure?" Willow asked, as Tara hugged her closer, running her hands up and down her back.

"It felt good," Tara said confidently. "It wasn't just a tiny nibble, but it felt sooo gooood…" she finished by kissing Willow, gently biting her bottom lip for emphasis. Willow giggled slightly and licked Tara's lips.

"Good," she replied, "that's good…'cause you only had to say so, if you wanted me to stop-"

"I promise," Tara said, "if I ever want you not to do anything, I'll tell you. You don't have to worry."

"My perfect Tara," Willow murmured, snuggling up against her and pulling a blanket over them both.

"It's alright," Willow assured her, "you know, you can love me any way you want, any time you want, but I don't want you to ever feel as though you have to, as if I'm not happy unless I've come as well…I kind of feel like I did just come, in a way…I was so close to you, and you were holding me, and when the release went through your body, it felt like it went through mine as well…I know we'll make love again, very soon, so right now I just want to lie here and, oh gods, I feel so wonderful…"

"Yep, I'll just lie here," Willow repeated, hugging Tara and giving her a playful squeeze around her waist, "just lying here, getting soaking wet…"

"So tell me," Tara said, "if you could make love anywhere… absolutely anywhere in the world…where would it be?"

"Are you going to take this as a challenge?" Willow asked, grinning and kissing Tara's neck.

"Okay then," Willow said slowly, deep in thought, "how about…on a boat. Right out on the tip of the bow…lying on my back, on the bowsprit in front of the figurehead, with you leaning over me, kissing me as you enter me…and then I could let my head fall back, and see the whole ocean, wide open in front of me, just like I'll be wide open in front of you," she giggled, "and as you make me come, I'll feel like I'm flying."

"Well, not when they're all lurching around and crashing through waves, no," Willow admitted, "so making love in the channel between the Twin Seas is out, or the only thing coming will be my lunch, up. But in calmer waters, boats are fine. They're like horses, so long as they don't do anything dramatic, we get along just fine."

"It's the pole that sticks out the front of the boat," Willow said, "isn't it? They tie ropes from the top of the mast to it, to stop the mast falling over, I guess…actually I'm not sure. Everything on boats has got its own weird name. If I had my way, it'd just be called the sticking-out-in-front bit, nice and simple."

"Exactly. See? It's all so much easier than all this 'splicing the mainbrace' and 'running close-hauled' stuff. Just point the pointy end of the boat where you want to go, put up the big thing with the sails, and off you go. What about you?"

"Oh…" Tara thought about it. "Well…I know. At home, in the temple of Athulua in the city, at midday the sun comes in at just the right angle, and it warms the grand altar. I'll sit right on the edge, and lean back, and you, my beautiful Willow, will kneel down between my legs and love me, with the sun warming our bodies, and the whole temple will echo to my moaning as you kiss me, and lick me, and slide your lovely tongue deep into me to taste me…" She shuddered lightly and hugged Willow tight, caressing her back.

"Well," Willow said, "that's certainly…that's not disrespectful of your gods, is it?"

"No," Tara said, "just very, very bold, seeing as there's always at least fifty or so people in the temple at midday, not counting the priests. That's unless it's a feast day, there'd be more like two hundred…all watching you feast…and the priests impatiently waiting for us to vacate their altar so they can get on with the ceremony. But so far as Athulua's concerned, making love in a temple is considered a form of worship."

"Oh yes," Tara said. "All our temples have private rooms, for couples to use if they want to worship in that particular way. It's not necessary, or anything, it's just…well, it's demonstrating the pleasure in your life to whichever god or goddess you're praying to. It's a way of saying 'You're my god, and I'm blissfully happy, so thanks'. Something like that. No-one's ever, um, made use of the grand altar like that," she admitted, "not in the middle of the day…there's always rumors floating around that some couple snuck in there at night and did a little worshipping without being discovered."

"Wow," Willow said, "and to think, the Zakarum church says sex for pleasure is shameful…heh, makes me wish I was an Amazon."

"I know, baby," Willow replied, "I love you too." She smiled and inhaled the scent of Tara's hair, snuggling in the hollow of her neck and shoulder.

"You know," she said after a moment, "I'm starting to think traveling isn't so bad after all."

"If you're planning on spending the whole trip making love and talking erotic talk, then I agree," Tara said.

During the afternoon Tara took a brief ride up and down the length of the column of wagons a few times, seeing rain clouds drawing close and knowing she wouldn't get another chance for some time. When she returned her horse and jogged back to her and Willow's wagon, she found Willow deeply absorbed in one of her books. After finding a waterproof cape and hood for the wagon's driver she checked that the roof was tied down tightly, then nestled into Willow's lap, listening contentedly as the rain began to fall softly on the roof, and as Willow read to her, all about the various theories regarding the planets and their movements through the sky.

As night fell and the caravan halted in a suitable location, in a grove of trees just off the road with good visibility on all sides, the two shared dinner and stories about the heavens, Tara telling Willow the Amazon names for the constellations and the legends of which planets were signs of which gods and goddesses, Willow adding a few stories from her own fund of myths and legends, amassed from the library of her order, and the folktales of Kurast and Entsteig. After they had spent a long time talking, slowly cuddling closer against each other, Willow finally reached up, turned out the lamp, and lay down next to Tara, smiling at the feel of their bodies fitting naturally together, as if this was the way they had always been meant to be.

And then, just as she was wondering whether to tell one last story, or engage her creative talents in a more physical way, Tara kissed her, slowly and gently, and her hands moved down Willow's body, touching her in all her sensitive places, making her moan and writhe in contented pleasure. No words were needed; Willow lay back, closed her eyes and marveled at how Tara could know her so well, understand her body so completely, that every touch was perfection. For a while Tara was pleased just to kiss Willow, unhurried and unhindered in her exploration of her mouth, while her hands stroked and massaged her breasts and her sex. Then, with one last, soft kiss and a look that promised volumes, she made her way down Willow's body, kissing her breasts, spending a long time caressing and licking her firm stomach, finally reaching her goal. She closed her lips around Willow's clit as if the fate of the world depended on her care, and the tender, patient way she stroked and parted Willow's lips were rewarded when, with no effort at all, she slid a finger inside her, and to Willow it felt so fulfilling that she almost cried.

Tara continued to pleasure her with boundless love and patience, never hurrying or straining, but merely ushering Willow towards the climax that had begun to stir the moment they had kissed. Willow surrendered herself completely to Tara's care, yielding all control of her body and her reactions, freeing herself of everything but to experience the love in Tara's every touch. As if holding her hand on an enchanted journey, Tara guided Willow higher, moving back up her body, her thumb gently taking over from her lips on Willow's clit as her finger found the special spot inside her that connected them like nothing else. Bringing Willow to the edge of her climax, Tara leaned down and kissed her, so gently and perfectly.

"This is how you make me feel," Tara whispered, "always." As she spoke she applied the tiniest, slightest increment of pressure inside Willow, just enough to tip her over the edge. Willow felt as if her body was liquefying, swaying like gentle waves on the shore, rushing forward, slowing, retreating for a moment before surging again. Tara's mouth on hers stifled her moan as she came, her climax peaceful, blissful and inevitable. The whole experience was so soothing that afterwards, with her body still tingling, Willow barely had time to nestle against Tara and feel her gentle kiss on her forehead before she was drifting away from consciousness, her awareness closing to everything but the warm presence of her lover beside her, and sleep claimed her.

Tara's voice soothed Willow through her waking moment, letting her go from blissful slumber straight to luxuriating in the warmth of Tara's presence without any hesitation or confusion.

"Ooh, that's nice," she murmured, covering Tara's hand on her breast with her own and pressing it to herself. "Can't I stay here and shine instead?"

"It's certainly tempting," Tara agreed, "but we don't have long until the caravan gets moving. There's a little creek just by the trees, we should have time for a quick bath, if we hurry."

"Well then," Willow conceded, "in the interests of not turning into a horrible unwashed mess by the time we reach Duncraig…up and at 'em, I suppose." She yawned as she sat up. "Just a quick bath?" she asked.

"We shouldn't go out of sight of the caravan," Tara said, "so I don't think we'll have the chance to, um, enjoy our bath the way we should."

"Drat," Willow murmured, wrapping a thick woolen robe around herself and searching for her boots. She found them, pulled them on, then turned to watch Tara, her robe already on, pulling a pair of towels from their baggage.

"Hey," she said, kneeling beside Tara, hugging her and resting her head on Tara's shoulder. "You know, the way you made love to me last night, that was…I don't know if I can tell you how that was. I felt like you were the grace of the gods themselves, a-and…I don't have the words for it."

"My beautiful Willow," Tara whispered, gently closing her arms around Willow's waist.

They stayed together for a moment, enjoying the warmth of each other's embrace, until Willow tilted her head to one side and looked up at Tara from the corner of her eye.

"Me neither," Willow smiled. "How about if we agree to go wash, and then scurry back here as fast as our legs will carry us for more snuggles?"

"Let me try something," Tara suggested. She lifted her hands to gently cup Willow's face, drew their lips together, and kissed her as if her life depended on it. Willow went completely limp, her hands dropping from Tara's waist to rest loosely around her hips, her legs relaxing underneath her, her body help upright only by Tara, who clearly had no intention of letting her go before she had tasted every inch of her mouth.

"Yeah," Willow said, her hands flying up to grab Tara and draw her into an answering kiss, finishing with a very long moment of holding her lip between her teeth and sucking seductively.

"Actually," Tara admitted, "maybe that wasn't such a helpful idea." Willow nodded, just before Tara kissed her again, making her moan into Tara's mouth as her tongue worked its magic.

There was a guard and one of the Amazons washing clothes in the creek, which was otherwise just far enough away from the caravan to offer a semblance of privacy. Both men discretely kept their backs turned as Willow and Tara washed themselves, which didn't keep Willow from sneaking glances at Tara, and vice versa. The water was naturally quite cold, and Willow noticed this having the expected effect on Tara as they both untied their robes and used washcloths to clean themselves as thoroughly as possible, under the circumstances. Tara noticed Willow watching her and caught her eye, to which Willow shrugged, as if to say 'Well, what did you expect?' Tara grinned seductively and pinched her nipples, which were already pointing rigidly from her breasts. Willow inclined her head back towards the caravan, and Tara nodded.

They both finished washing as quickly as possible, pausing only to let the guard and the Amazon know they were finished and dressed again, and thank them for their courtesy. The moment they were both safely back in their wagon Willow pounced on Tara, kissing her thoroughly while dragging her robe down off her shoulders. Tara likewise pulled off Willow's robe as they both fell to the blankets padding the floor, wearing only their boots, giggling and kissing.

"Lift up a little," Willow urged Tara, who was lying on top of her. When she complied, Willow made her way down beneath her, reaching up to lick Tara's nipples and hold her breasts, which were hanging down towards her in a most inviting fashion.

"I noticed these getting cold," Willow explained. "Maybe I could warm them up a little?"

"More than a little," Tara purred, as Willow took her nipple into her mouth and sucked greedily on it. Tara moaned and arched her back, lowering her body so that the breast Willow had latched on to pressed against her, while Willow massaged the other thoroughly.

"Trying to suffocate me?" Willow grinned, before burying her face back in Tara's chest, one hand around her back pulling her down further.

"Mmmno," Willow said, her voice quite muffled. She put both hands on Tara's waist and, with a small amount of difficulty in the limited space, rolled them both over so Tara was lying on her back, smiling like she had just lowered herself into a hot bath, and Willow was astride her, alternately licking her nipples and playfully nipping at them.

"Warming up…nicely," Tara grinned, her breathing a little erratic. Willow grinned mischievously, concentrated a little, and breathed an icy breath across Tara's left nipple.

"Ooh!" Tara exclaimed, shivering and biting her lip. A wide smile formed on her lips, and she watched as Willow touched the tip of her tongue to her nipple.

"Am I a sorceress or not?" Willow asked with a cheeky grin. She gave Tara's nipple one more lick, noting that the cold had made it quite exceptionally hard, then dispelled the tiny amount of cold magic she had called on and closed her now warm lips on the rigid little nub. Tara cooed in satisfaction, moving gently beneath Willow. Willow in turn opened her mouth wide and put her tongue to a lengthy examination of the shape and taste of Tara's nipple and the surrounding breast. She deliberately began to tickle Tara, flicking the tip of her tongue lightly over the sensitive skin on the bottom and sides of her breast, making her giggle uncontrollably.

"That was quite a thing," Tara gasped, as Willow finally relented and settled on top of her, nestling against her shoulder. "Is that something all sorceresses learn to do?"

"Mmm-hmm," Tara murmured, "remind me, next time there's some ice to hand, I'll show you how exciting that is."

"I certainly will," Willow promised. "Apart from seducing your favorite sorceress yet again, did you have anything planned for today?"

"Actually," Tara said, "I was thinking, after breakfast I'll start teaching you archery. If you're still interested?"

"You bet I am!" Willow said eagerly. "Do you mean archery for real, or the kind you taught me a little of back at the castle?"

"Oh, both," Tara said airily, "I think they complement each other nicely." Willow made a purring sound in the back of her throat, and gave her hips a sexy little wiggle against Tara's thighs.

"You luscious Amazon you," she scolded fondly, "you're trying to lure me back into that cleavage of yours, aren't you?"

"Tease," Willow retorted, "just you wait, I know how to bide my time. And when you least expect it, I'll give you more than you bargained for."

"Yes ma'am," Willow said. "But now, breakfast? I think I need to keep my strength up." Tara laughed, and sat up with Willow, folding a warm blanket over her shoulders as she started to unwrap some of the day's food.

"My Tara," Willow smiled, stroking her cheek fondly, "you take such good care of me."

"Proving once again," Willow said with a grin, "how good your aim is." Tara settled back, drawing a blanket around her shoulders and leaning against the crates stacked behind her, giving Willow the opportunity to lean back against her, sitting between her legs and pulling her blanket over her front, keeping them both cozy. Tara waited until Willow was properly settled before closing her thighs on either side of Willow's waist and crossing her ankles in Willow's lap.

"Gotcha," she murmured. Willow reached behind herself to grab Tara's waist, holding her.

"I guess that leaves it up to me to keep us fed," Tara observed, plucking a bread roll Willow had unwrapped and offering it to her with a slice of cheese.

"Trail rations don't taste so bad coming from Tara-fingers," Willow said idly between bites. She let go of Tara with one hand and fetched a roll for her.

"Willow-fingers too," Tara replied after she had had a bite. Joking and laughing, they finished breakfast quickly. Tara dressed and excused herself to jog up to the Amazons' cargo wagon, where she had a bow she said would suit Willow, leaving Willow to clear up the remains of their meal, and ponder recent events.

The thought of being with Tara, of traveling with her, and most importantly that Tara wanted to stay with her even after her people returned to their island homelands, was still strange and wonderful to Willow. She doubted it would ever seem less than wonderful, but for now, it was still a new idea, still fresh and largely undiscovered in her thoughts. Willow looked around the wagon they shared, noting Tara's discarded robe, the blanket she had had around her shoulders, her heavier armor on top of the pile of crates, her bow and spear neatly secured to one side. As Willow dressed, as she fastened her belt around her hips, the small weight of their journal in its pouch at her side reminded her of Tara's drawings, safely within. 'She's part of my life now,' Willow thought, smiling to herself at the same time as the enormity of the idea made her want to tremble. 'My life,' she thought, examining the idea, 'our life…our life together. Lovers…companions…together.' Willow grinned at herself, and leaned over to rest her head on the makeshift pillows, where she could still detect the lingering scent of Tara's hair. She thought back over all the times she and Tara had made love, when Tara had moaned or sighed with pleasure. 'I can give her that,' Willow thought dreamily, 'I can do that…she loves me…' Fighting off a sudden, irrational urge to shout it at the top of her voice, Willow set herself instead to changing the blankets lining the floor of the wagon, rolling up the old ones to be washed whenever the opportunity arose, and spreading out new ones from the baggage stacked to either side.

She was just finishing when Tara returned, carrying a bundle and a strangely-shaped bow, which was for most of its length straight, but curved backwards at each end to form a 'D' shape, except there was no string in it. Willow noted this and just as quickly ignored it, cupping Tara's surprised face in her hands and kissing her with all the passion as she could conjure. Tara's hands went around Willow's waist, but that was the only move she made other than to part her lips and let Willow explore where she would, welcoming Willow's tongue into her mouth and patiently, lovingly lavishing attention on it for as long as Willow continued the kiss. When at last Willow drew back, Tara closed her eyes and licked her lips in a show of utter contentment.

"Not at all," she replied, "I'm yours to kiss - and anything else you might think of - whenever you want."

"I was just thinking," Willow explained regardless, "you know, about us…you staying with me after Duncraig…I mean, we have a, a life together! I- That's the most amazing thing to me, I think about it and I just, I can't think of anything better."

"Oh Tara," Willow murmured into her shoulder as she held her tightly, "my angelic Tara."

"I am," Tara agreed, "I'm yours, my life is part of yours, just like yours is part of mine. It's our life, Willow, now and…and always…?" Willow heard the slight pause in her voice, and didn't think twice before answering it.

"Yes," she said without hesitation, "always." Tara gulped, then hugged Willow fiercely, kissing her cheek.

"Tara?" Willow asked tentatively, feeling warm tears on her skin from Tara's eyes.

"Happy tears," Tara said, her voice choked up but joyous. She drew back, grinning sheepishly, drew in a deep breath, and kissed Willow again, just lightly, on her lips.

"Ready to learn?" she asked, laying a hand on the strangely shaped bow lying beside her.

"Okay then, learning-girl," Tara said, holding up the bow, "I'm assuming you want the full story, not just the quick version?"

"Well then," Tara sat back, as Willow crossed her legs and gave her undivided attention, "this is a light short-bow used for training. It was one of a set of three light bows made by Eponin's father Terranon. Eponin used one of them when she was a girl, and passed it on to her eldest daughter. My mother used the second one, and kept using it even when she completed her training. Eponin gave me the third when I was ten, and I used it until I was fifteen. It's an Amazon custom that when a weapon is given, its history is given with it. I-I want this to be yours, now." Tara held out the bow to Willow, who took it gingerly.

"Terranon was a very gifted craftsman," Tara said, "an artist. The bow I use now is another of his. The weapons we use, bows and spears, aren't just tools, they're part of our way of life. There have always been threats to the Isles, so there have always been warriors to protect them. This is a, a symbol of the value we place on life, on safety…our families, our people, and our future. This bow represents life, and the knowledge that sometimes we have to fight to protect what is dearest to us. Do you accept it as such?"

"Then it's yours," Tara smiled. "I-I don't mean all that to make you feel like you have to join a warrior pride or anything, and if you never use it for anything but practice and fun, it's not an affront to the symbolism or, you know, something like that. It's just…it's important, that's all. I-I'm not a soldier like the women in the prides are, but I've been trained - I'm a warrior. It's part of me, and I guess I'm pleased that you want to share it like this." She smiled at Willow, then looked at the bow in her hands.

"First thing," she said, her voice steady and sure, "feel the weight. Feel the texture of it. See the way it's curved."

"I know," Tara smiled, "when you string a bow it has a lot of tension in it, it changes the shape. I had my bow unstrung before the contest in Maresburg, remember?"

"I remember you were in your leathers and looking like the sexiest archer in history," Willow grinned, "I didn't really see what your bow was doing." Tara laughed, then got up and moved around behind Willow, positioning the bow in her hands.

"I'll show you how to string it," she said. "First thing, you hold it this way around - when it's unstrung, the tips point forward. Okay, hold it like this," she showed Willow's hands where to go, "now, it's not easy to bend, but this is a light bow so it's not too difficult…there's a trick to it when you're sitting, you hook this end over the top of your leg… like that…then rest your other thigh over the middle and bend the other end back…that's it. Now you've got one hand free to set the string." She put a string in Willow's free hand, and showed her how the looped tip went over one end of the bow.

"Now you do it," she said. Willow ran her fingers along the string, making sure it was straight, then slipped the little loop over the other end of the bow. She gingerly let the tension go out of her legs, and grinned to see the bow holding its shape, an elegant arc with the tips curving back.

"You sure did," Tara said warmly. "Now, feel the shape of it again. You're not looking for anything specific, just get used to how it feels now that it's ready. The core of the bow is ashwood, it's not actually from an ash tree - ashwood is wood that's been treated by the artisans of Hefaetrus. They have a type of magic that can temper wood like a blacksmith tempers steel, it burns but it becomes stronger. It's one of the secrets of the Amazons, and part of the reason our bows are better than mainland ones. On the leading edge here, this is sinew from a type of creature we just call Beasts, they're monsters that live in the dense jungles on Philios and Lycander. We don't use materials from natural animals, unless they can be gathered without harming them, but there are some creatures that are unnatural, probably remnants of the old demon armies, like those Carver things. On the trailing edge, here, there's two strips of bone, one on either side of the handle."

"Not usually," Tara said, "Beasts have good sinews, but their bones are too brittle. Mostly the craftsmen use bones from horses, when they die, but some of our old, very heavy bows are supposed to use bones from demons like goat-men or maulers. Luckily there aren't many of them still around - there used to be pockets of them on the islands, but we've slowly wiped them out or driven them away. My bow uses wraith bone, which is pretty rare. This one is from a creature called a cave leaper, they're vicious little things that can jump ten meters in a go, their bones will bend a lot before they break. The back of the bow here-"

"The front is called the back?" Willow asked, as Tara pointed at the leading edge of the shaft.

"Yep," Tara confirmed, "the edge towards the target is called the back, and the edge towards the archer is called the belly."

"It's not just sailors that have to give everything odd names," Tara said with a smile. "The back is coated with bark from a great oak, like the ones that hold up Tran Athulua. That's just for a bit of extra protection. Every month or so you should treat the bow with bramble oil, or something like it - I've got plenty of that, and we should be able to buy more, in Duncraig at least."

"Creatures again," Tara said, "natural ones, though. In the deepest forests there are a handful of creatures called bramble hulks-"

"Hulks?" Willow interrupted. "There used to be hulks around Kurast, all through the jungle. Only, they're all gone now…during the Reckoning they were corrupted, and after it was over the survivors just vanished. I read that they used to be sort of guardians of the jungles, they'd protect them from evil."

"There aren't many," Tara explained, "just a few, all of them on Lycander. They keep to themselves, and don't often allow themselves to be seen by people. They never come anywhere near our cities, but sometimes one of them meets a priest out in the jungle. I suppose they weren't affected like the ones in Kurast were by the Reckoning, they're very peaceful and gentle. According to those who've seen them, they think we're tolerable, by the standards of humans." Tara grinned. "I think they really prefer trees to us, but they probably figure they're stuck with us. Bramble oil is a liquid their bodies are covered with, they're said to be made of wood, and the oil keeps them flexible so they can move. They naturally secrete a whole lot of it, so they have enough that they can spare supplies of oil for us to use and trade. I guess they see it as a fair trade, in return for us respecting their forests."

"Wow," Willow breathed. "I wonder if anyone in Kurast knows there are still hulks alive? Or maybe, given what happened, they'd rather not anyone know…"

"Maybe," Tara agreed, "from what I hear, they're very private creatures. They're very big and strong, so probably people used to be afraid of them, and not treat them very well. At any rate, if we can't get any more bramble oil, there's a few alternatives that are easy to find. I'll show you how to treat the bow when it's time. I do mine every week or so, just to keep it in best condition while I use it, but if you do it once a month the bow won't be any worse for wear. The oil regenerates the wood, so it doesn't matter if you leave it a little longer, but if you use the bow regularly it's best to treat it more frequently."

"Gotcha," Willow said, "once a week when practicing, once a month otherwise. What's the string made out of? More icky bits of demonic animals?"

"Silk," Tara grinned, "but I suppose if you consider that it comes out of silkworms' bottoms, that's quite icky. The end loops are sinew again, just for extra strength. Now, hopefully we'll have a little time before dark when we stop to practice for real, but for now, just feel how the bow draws and releases. Oh, you'll want this," she added, finding a leather bracer in her bundle and gently tightening it around Willow's left wrist.

"Trust me," she said, "having a bowstring whack your wrist isn't an enviable experience. Give it a try. Hold your fingers like this…use your thumb to hold the string, and hold the tip of your thumb with your fingers…now, fire away."

Willow slowly drew the bow back, feeling the tension in her arms but finding she could handle it. When she had drawn the bow far enough back she sighted down the length of an invisible arrow, glanced down to check that her chest wasn't in the line of fire, and released the string. The bow straightened with an impressively professional whipping noise, the string just grazing the bracer around her wrist.

"Pretty good," Tara said, "especially for your first try. We'll work on it a little more for now. In the field, you'd use a ring on your thumb, to keep the string from digging in too much after you've been pulling it a lot, but for now it's better to be able to feel it on your skin. Let me know if it starts to be a bit sore, I've got some spare rings, so you can have one of those."

Willow took a few more arrowless shots with her bow, then watched Tara closely as she demonstrated some minor corrections and improvements. Throughout the morning they worked on Willow's form, with Tara frequently demonstrating techniques she didn't quite know how to explain in words, having learned them to the point of instinct long ago. She was very visibly proud at Willow's attention and progress, which pleased Willow in turn, and made her all the more determined to learn what Tara was teaching her well.

As the day passed the sky lightened, and in the afternoon they were able to ride with the roof rolled up, enjoying the scenery as Tara explained all manner of things to Willow, about the way an arrow needed to bend from the bow when it fired, how and why practice arrows were fitted with spiral-wrapped feathers rather than the straight fins on target or war arrows, how the various shapes of bows affected their ranges and accuracy. She strung her own bow and showed Willow how the handle was curved inward of the shaft - 'four-curved', Willow learned, as opposed to 'recurved' for her lighter bow - and at Willow's insistence let her try drawing it, which she did, but only with considerable effort.

The afternoon passed quickly, between learning technique and posture, practicing drawing with an arrow, aimed safely off to the side of the road, just in case the string slipped, and some long divergences during which Willow lay in front of Tara, leaning on her elbows and smiling up at her as she explained the history and legends behind the Amazon warriors and their bows. When the caravan finally halted, a little before sunset to take advantage of a good location their scouts had found, Tara picked an old tree on the other side of the road, with clear ground to either side, and snagged a cloth on it as a target for Willow to aim at. It wasn't anything like the range Willow had seen Tara tackle at the contest, nor was the cloth as small a mark as the bullseye of a target board, but Willow nonetheless jumped excitedly and hugged Tara when, on her fourth shot, her arrow caught the corner of the scrap of material and pinned it to the trunk. A handful of the Amazons, who had drifted over to watch Willow practice under Tara's tuition, gave a round of applause, which cheered her greatly, though not so much as Tara's proud smile.

"You're a fast learner," Tara observed idly after dinner, when she and Willow had curled up beneath their blankets.

"That's something Ember showed me," Willow said, "to learn new things by understanding them, not just copying what I see. I think if I'd just tried to do exactly what you do, I'd have taken a lot longer to get the hang of it. Of course, it helped that you gave me the whole works about the technique, and the way archery developed, and all that. It made it easier to see why you hold the bow the way you do, why you aim the way you do…it was easier to find the right way for me to do it."

"Every warrior has to find her own way," Tara said, "it's something Solari always taught. I'm glad you enjoyed it, I-I'm glad I could teach you something too. I've learned so much just from being with you, and listening to you talk about all the things you've studied."

"I've learned plenty from you too," Willow pointed out. "All about Amazons, your legends and culture, the traditions and customs you have… and I've learned what it's like to be exactly where I want to be in the world."

"Me too," Tara whispered, as Willow trailed affectionate kisses up her neck and cheek.

"I like using a bow," Willow murmured, smiling as Tara returned her kisses, working her way slowly down her neck and onto her shoulder. "It's like magic…it's all about controlling the power…not just letting it fly… you have to feel it…know exactly…how much…to…ooh Tara…" she trailed off, as Tara reached her breasts, and began giving her long, lusty strokes with her tongue the length of her cleavage.

"Oh baby that's good," Willow moaned as Tara leaned to her right side and delicately licked her nipple. She arched her back and moaned again, wordlessly, as Tara's mouth enveloped her in warmth. Tara licked and sucked her enthusiastically, at the same time pressing her moist sex against her thigh down below. Willow first pressed back with her leg, making Tara groan with pleasure, then eased back and worked her hand down between their bodies. Tara lifted her hips to give Willow access to her, relinquishing her hold on Willow's nipple only to switch to the other one.

"All…about…control," Willow murmured as her fingers strokes Tara's lips, feeling the moisture from her center. "Its all…small motion…built up…" She slipped a finger between Tara's lips and teased her entrance. "You draw the string…back…slowly," she curled her finger, then straightened it and gently pressed deeper, "and…the power…all goes…into…the release." She reached the farthest depth she could reach, and slowly pulled back until she was again merely teasing her with her fingertip. She was surprised to feel Tara's hand against hers, and let Tara hold her fingers, guiding them, until her index and forefinger rested together between her lips.

"Uh-huh," Tara murmured, barely lifting her mouth from Willow's straining nipple. Willow moved her fingers a little, testing Tara's entrance and finding it more than willing. Tara lifted herself up a little, just enough to stare into Willow's eyes.

"I've never done it like this," she whispered, breathing warm air over Willow's moistened nipples as she spoke, "always just with one…I want this, Willow, I want you."

"Never?" Willow asked. "A-are you sure you want-" In response, Tara gently pressed Willow's hand against her sex.

"Feel that," she purred, "I'm so ready for you…feel how wet I am, how hot? All for you, baby…I need you, baby, I need you so much." She leaned forward and gave Willow the full benefit of her aroused gaze.

"Take me," she whispered, "right now…look into my eyes and take me, Willow." Willow could feel herself getting thoroughly wet, even without Tara's mouth on her breasts, just from hearing her. She returned Tara's stare, not even blinking once as she slowly slid her two fingers into her sex. Tara's mouth opened in a silent moan, and her eyes half-closed, lidded with desire as she stared at Willow. To Willow, everything seemed attenuated, as if her entry to Tara took a lifetime, but at last she was buried in her, as deep as she could be, feeling the tight warmth of Tara pressed against her questing fingers on all sides. Slowly she moved, just a little, drawing her fingers out just a fraction before gently thrusting forward again.

"Ooohhh," Tara moaned, a primal sound from deep within herself. She began to rock her hips, just gently, and Willow matched her stroke for stroke.

"Oh baby," Tara purred, her lips brushing Willow's as she moved, "that feels…so wonderful…oh goddess…you're so deep…in me…" She let out a gasp as Willow's fingertips brushed her sweet spot, and lunged forward to kiss Willow as she centered her fingers there and began to stroke it with every thrust. Willow reveled in the kiss, feeling something like rapture at having Tara so open and vulnerable to her, and at the same time kissing her with such demanding passion, as if she would accept nothing less than the complete acquiescence which she eagerly provided, parting her lips to let Tara's tongue claim her mouth, feeling the thrill she felt every time they kissed, as if it was in some way always the first time.

Willow felt Tara's body begin to tense, the thrusts of her hips becoming more demanding, and she strengthened the answering thrusts of her fingers, savoring the way Tara would tremble and moan into their kiss every time she hit the sweet spot deep within her. She felt Tara's fingers stroke her sex, and parted her legs to allow her to touch wherever she wanted. Tara's thumb found her clit as her fingers stroked her lips, and it was only a few strokes before Willow, already aroused beyond belief, felt herself ready to climax. She quickened her pace within Tara, her free hand on the back of her head, encouraging Tara's lusty, possessive kissing. Tara drove herself down onto Willow's fingers one last time, moaning deeply into her mouth, and Willow felt her sex tighten and spasm, which was more than enough to set off her own climax as Tara's hand on her lost its rhythm and simply pressed against her, covering her with the heat radiating from her skin. Tara broke off her kiss to draw in a shuddering gasp of air, her stare somehow conveying all that she was feeling, then she collapsed down on top of Willow, her body writhing slowly with the aftershocks of her pleasure.

"Oh my sweet Willow," she whispered, "oh my goddess…did you enjoy that, my Willow? I did, so much." Willow nodded as enthusiastically as she could, now that drowsiness was overtaking both of them.

"I love you," Tara murmured, "I love everything about you… oh you make me so happy Willow…let me hold you…" Willow nestled up to Tara, blissfully content as she lay in her arms, surrounded by the warmth of their blankets and Tara's body. Tara kissed her neck and lay her head down next to her, whispering in her ear the words of her lullaby song, until both fell asleep.

Tara woke to the sound of someone knocking on the wagon's tailboard. Blinking away sleep and pulling on a robe, she pulled back the canvas flap to find Tryptin, with a parcel under one arm.

"We're getting under way early today," he explained, "sorry to wake you. There's breakfast here," he added, offering the parcel to Tara. "The nearest stream is a little way away, but I've sent a couple of the guards to fetch some fresh water."

"Thank you," Tara said, squinting a little from the strong sunlight outside. She opened the parcel and set its contents aside, then nestled up to Willow, who was still curled up among the blankets, sleeping peacefully.

"I'll tell them," Willow replied. Tara smiled and shook her head, then wriggled her arm underneath Willow so she could embrace her with both arms. Willow, still mostly asleep, grinned and stretched in Tara's hold.

"No more snowballs," she murmured, "pretty Tara…" She started slightly when the wagon lurched into motion, then turned her head to look at Tara, blinking slowly.

"I'd like to think so," Tara grinned, "but yes, we're moving. Breakfast's here, and there'll be fresh water on the supply wagon. How would you like me to help you bathe this morning?" she added in a sultry purr.

"How about," she said thoughtfully, "my sweet, scintillating, sensual, stunning, shapely," she nibbled Willow's ear briefly, "hmm, succulent…sinfully sexy…" she fell silent as her lips found Willow's, and she spent a moment sucking on her lip before deepening the kiss. Willow eagerly complied, and moaned joyously as Tara guided her tongue into her mouth and lavished attention on it.

"Run out of S-words?" Willow asked cheekily when Tara leaned back to smile at her.

"Not even close," Tara promised, "I was just pondering how to demonstrate 'salacious'."

"Not as much as I do," Willow grinned. "But right now, I could use something to eat." Tara raised an eyebrow and licked her lips suggestively. "Breakfast, you insatiable minx!" Willow scolded her fondly. Tara handed a robe to her as she quickly dressed in a skirt and tunic. She pulled her boots on and grabbed a bread roll just as Willow started.

"I don't want to get there and find that all the water's gone," Tara said, "then I'd have to wait until evening to bathe my Willow. And that just wouldn't do," she added in a regal manner. She winked at Willow as she slipped out of the wagon, dropping to the ground lightly and wandering to the side of the road while the caravan trundled on, waiting the moment it took for the supply wagon to reach her.

"Morning, miss," said Kert, who was sitting on the back of the wagon studying a map.

"Good morning Kert," Tara said politely. She climbed into the open-topped wagon and found a pair of reasonable-sized gourds, which she began filling from the small metal tank sitting half-full in the center of the floor. She tilted her head to read Kert's map as she held the first gourd underwater.

"Most recent map of the area," he explained, business-like, holding it up for Tara to see. "First time in some years I've made the trip to Duncraig along this road. Best to know what's in store."

"Of course," Tara said. She pointed at the winding roads on the map, which was impressively detailed. "We're going along here?"

"That's right," Kert said, "the highland road. Normally a caravan would take the river road, but there's no sure roads between there and the highland towns the Duncraig gentlemen are visiting. We should make the crossroads with the Jesram trail by nightfall, if the weather holds good. Two days on that will see us to Jesram town, then we'll be on the northern trail, and rejoin the highland road two days after, here at Harthim. That's officially the border of Duncraig realm, but it's still six days to the city itself after that. The gentlemen are discussing whether to make another detour, like the Jesram trip, to pass through Namon, that'll add another two days if we go there."

"If this weather stays with us? Twelve days, maybe eleven, depending on how much rest Master Shan thinks the beasts need. Light rain won't matter much on these roads, but if we get heavy rains - which is always possible, this time of year - well, if it pours the whole way, could be three weeks. Hope for clear skies, eh?"

"Yes," Tara agreed, taking the water and climbing back to the ground. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, miss," Kert said, returning to his scrutiny of the map. Tara paced herself at a fast walk, slowly overtaking the wagons ahead of her. The morning was slightly chilly, but not unpleasant, the sun was shining bright, and only a few wisps of fast-moving cloud off to the east marked a sky that was otherwise clear blue from horizon to horizon. Tara wondered if she might go riding in the afternoon, and pondered whether Willow might come with her. Most of the horses following in the wake of the wagons were placid, well-behaved animals, and though not a very experienced horsewoman herself, Tara found a certain joy in riding, and thought Willow would enjoy it too, once she gained a little confidence. 'Or perhaps,' she mused, 'she could sit behind me, and just enjoy the ride without worrying about the horse. That wouldn't be bad at all.'

Willow immediately noticed Tara's contented grin as she climbed back into their wagon.

"You're thinking something fun," she concluded, handing her a cheese roll from the remains of breakfast.

"I was just thinking of going riding this afternoon," Tara explained. "Do you think you might join me?"

"You mean sitting behind you, arms around your waist, snuggled up tight against you?" Willow asked.

"Silly," Willow replied, swatting her lightly on the arm. Tara grinned, took a bite out of the apple, and busied herself spreading out a double layer of thick towels over the blankets.

"As if you need to ask," Willow said. She knelt on one end of the towels, shrugged off her robe and lay facedown, turning her head sideways to grin up at Tara.

"And once again you've managed to get me naked," she observed. "You know, recently I've been spending more time out of clothes than in."

"Not at all," Willow said, "there's much less laundry to do." She closed her eyes and moaned quietly as Tara trailed a finger up her leg from her ankle, across her bottom, up her back, finishing up tickling her ear, followed by a quick kiss.

"There are other benefits too," she said dreamily. Tara poured some water into a dish, wet a washcloth, and started rubbing Willow's back, soaping her as she went.

"You know," Willow murmured, "the ones where there's a lonely princess who spends all her days reading and dreaming of far-away places…oh that's nice!" she interrupted herself, as Tara gave her bottom a squeeze en route to her thighs. "And then a dazzling warrior comes riding up on a white horse…wins the princess's heart…takes her all the places she used to dream about…and they live happily ever after."

"I haven't exactly taken you anywhere," Tara mentioned, firmly massaging Willow's legs as she rinsed the soap away, "unless you count the archery contest in Maresburg."

"Yes you have," Willow said, "remember that morning we met in the courtyard, back at the Baron's castle? You held my hand, and we talked, and you asked me to go with you to the dinner, and then…mmm, you kissed me," she murmured, as Tara ran her hands up her sides, gently brushing the sides of her breasts pressed against the towels beneath her. "I love how you kiss me," she went on, "how you touch me…how you look at me…that takes me to a place better than anything I ever dreamed of."

"Turn over," Tara said softly. Willow did, and stared up at Tara, who was leaning over her with tears in her eyes and a brilliant smile on her lips. She kissed Willow, gently, almost chastely, letting her lips caress Willow's, demonstrating through the contact the joy she was feeling.

"You're the most beautiful princess I could ever imagine," she whispered. With Willow speechless, Tara returned to her task, soaking the washcloth once more and running it over Willow's arms, chest and stomach. Willow grinned as Tara began to give her breasts more attention than mere cleanliness seemed to demand.

"I don't remember ever reading a fairy tale where the noble warrior did that to the princess," she observed.

"Their loss," Tara said matter-of-factly, giving Willow's breasts a last squeeze before moving down over her hips to her legs. "Just making sure you live happily ever after, in every possible way."

"Oh I am," Willow said, stretching her legs as Tara caressed them firmly. "You know how much I enjoy being with you…talking, sharing thoughts…just, you know, being together…and I don't want to sound like it's just a physical thing, but you are the most fantastic lover." Tara smiled and chuckled to herself.

"I'll accept that," she said, "only if I can be equal most fantastic with you. Besides," she added, finishing with the washcloth and lying down next to Willow, "the way you move, the way you sigh and moan when I touch you…" she got a shy smile on her lips, and kissed Willow quickly. "How could I be content with anything less?" she finished softly.

"Gods you're hot," Willow breathed, "just a few words, and I want to jump on you and make love to you right now."

"First things first," Willow said, sitting up, "I think I owe you a little pampering." Tara smiled, and lay down on the fresh towel Willow spread out for her, lifting her hips and arms to help as Willow undressed her. She enjoyed the way Willow's eyes roamed over her body, and stretched her arms out above her head, arching her back.

"Hey," Willow protested with a grin, "quit trying to seduce me, you. Come on, turn over." Tara obediently rolled onto her stomach, content with the aroused way Willow was biting her lip as she gazed at her.

"I love your legs, you know that?" Willow commented as she was running the washcloth over them, trailing the soap in its wake with her other hand. "You've got beautiful legs…curvy…elegant. I love the way you move. And oh, those thighs…" she murmured, rinsing them with more than a little sensual squeezing. "Those are unquestionably thighs that demand to be touched, and squeezed, and massaged, and kissed-" she broke off as she planted a firm kiss on the back of each thigh, before straddling Tara's legs and moving her attention upwards.

"Shoulders, now," she continued, "look at how smooth these are…strong, too. Lovely firm shoulders…all that exercising and bow practice, hmm? And these arms are perfect for holding me, especially when you make me feel weak all over and I just collapse in your arms, and you hold me… I've never felt anything like that before, you know…just to give myself to you…here I am, completely yours, do whatever you want with me…it's a beautiful feeling."

"For me too," Tara murmured, her eyes closed, all her awareness fixed on Willow's touch as she rubbed the soap on her hands and cleaned it off.

"Now now," Willow said, "can't let myself get too distracted…this lovely back of yours, hmm." Willow lay herself down on top of Tara, leisurely pressing her body into Tara's back. "I could stay here forever," she whispered. "Heh, naughty me," she added, "I've got a job to do." She sat up again and ran her hands firmly up and down Tara's back, rubbing the soap into her skin with her bare hands much more thoroughly than was necessary.

"Could there be," Willow said eventually, moving her hands down, "a more squeezable bottom in the whole world?"

"How about yours?" Tara asked lazily, grinning as Willow massaged away with relish.

"Sure," Tara replied, "remember that little thing you wore to the Baron's dinner? Oh my goddess…"

"Hmm, thank you," Willow said, feeling a definite rush of warmth from the praise. "I'll have to remember to tease you with that more often."

"Now, let me see, did I miss anything? Legs, arms, body, bottom," she gave Tara a light swat. "Flip over and I'll continue." Tara did as she was asked, stretching to deliberately show herself off, opening one eye just a fraction to make sure Willow was watching. Willow gazed at her with an intensity that said she had things other than bathing on her mind.

"Well," Willow gulped, "I, ah, already covered your lovely legs…oh, but I forgot to mention," she added, working her way up from Tara's feet with firm strokes, "how nice it is to rest my cheek against the inside of your thigh…right before I reach out my tongue and- well, I'm getting ahead of myself there," she finished with a wicked grin.

"Yup," Willow admitted happily. "These hips, now, these I love…they move so sensually…and your lovely stomach…mmm, I could spend a long time on your exceedingly kissable belly…"

"I think I will," Willow replied, "but first…and I bet you knew I was getting ready for this…" She straddled Tara's hips and ran the washcloth briefly over Tara's chest, before discarding it, covering her hands in a generous lather and taking a breast in each hand.

"I admit it," she said gleefully, "I'm a breast girl." She squeezed and massaged Tara's breasts, the motions of her hands becoming more arousing as they became soapy and slippery. "But what choice do I have, when I'm confronted with such a truly angelic bosom?" Tara's breathing became steadily heavier as Willow's hands did their work, until, by the time Willow finally finished and cleaned the soap from her chest, she was moaning quietly, slowly tossing her head from side to side. Willow gave her one last, satisfied look up and down, then leaned forward to whisper in her ear.

"But you know what the best part of you is?" she murmured. "Not your luscious, shapely legs, or your lovely embracing arms, or your gentle, loving hands, or your fingers that reach into me and touch my soul, or your divine breasts, or your soft hair, or your endless blue eyes, or even," her voice became a breathy sigh, "even your wonderful sex…do you know what it is? It's this…" She kissed Tara, slowly opening her mouth and running her tongue along her lips.

"That kiss in the castle gardens," she whispered, staring into Tara's gaze, "that was what did it. Even though I didn't realize it, not fully, back then, that was the moment I became yours. So these lips," she punctuated herself with a quick kiss, "are special, because they claimed me. They showed me how to make my life complete, by giving myself to you, body and soul. I love you so much, Tara, so much…"

"I love you too Willow," Tara said softly, "body and soul, yours." She put a hand behind Willow's head and gently brought her down until their lips met again. Willow sighed, writhing slowly on top of Tara, using all of her body to communicate her arousal as their legs intertwined. Then the wagon lurched to a halt.

"Not now," Willow murmured plaintively, glaring up at the heavens beyond the canvas roof.

"Something's happening," Tara said. Willow listened, and heard the voices of the various wagon drivers calling to each other, "All stop," down the caravan's line. There were hooves, a horse moving quickly, and other voices, raised, though not alarmingly so.

"It'd better be good," Willow griped as she rolled off her and sat up. Both dressed quickly, Willow just pulling on her boots as Tara flashed her a smile and ducked out of the wagon. Willow smiled after her, and impulsively reached under her skirt, pulled off her briefs, rummaged in her bags for the extremely minimal underwear that went with her green dress, and pulled it on. Grinning a shameless grin, she followed Tara out.

Tara was waiting outside for her, looking up the line of wagons to where several men were gathered, one of them on horseback. One of them was Tryptin - he saw them, and waved them over. As they hurried closer they saw Shan, Kert, and two of the caravan's guards, one still atop his horse, the other holding his by the reins as he spoke quietly.

"…not much left," he was saying as Willow and Tara drew into earshot, "but maybe three weeks. Hard to say, though, with the fire."

"No sir," the guard replied, "none more recent than the bodies. We passed Petar and Hans out on forward left flank on our way back, and they signaled all clear."

"Our forward scouts found the scene of a battle," Tryptin said quietly, as Kert, Shan and the guard talked. "A caravan's been ambushed by the looks of it, not recently but sometime during the last month. Excuse me," he turned back to Shan and Kert.

"I think we should press on," Shan said, "we're making good time, and unless I'm wrong we'll reach the crossroads with plenty of time to spare. There's people there, not a town as such, but it's well-fortified and provisioned, if worst befalls."

"Twenty minutes," the guard said, "we were scouting farther ahead, but it's in a hollow, it wasn't until we came along the road itself that we saw it."

"Alright," Shan said, "we'll halt and learn what we may. One hour, mind, no more."

"Yes sir," Kert said, signaling the guards to return to their duties. Tryptin exchanged a word with Shan, then turned to Tara.

"I'm sorry to ask this of you," he said, "but it might be important…my fiancé is a tracker, she's mentioned that all warriors are trained in the basics of tracking."

"I'll find out what I can," Tara promised. "We're taught to recognize and interpret the signs of people and animals moving, or fighting," she explained to Willow. "I might be able to provide some information about this ambush."

"I'll help," Willow said, "the Order teaches us to trail various kinds of demonic creatures. I might be able to spot something."

"Three weeks ago," Tara said, "maybe four. It's rained heavily twice since then, but I think no longer ago than four weeks."

She was down on one knee, slowly trailing her fingers through the dirt from a patch she had scooped up with the tip of a knife. She had used the time the caravan had taken to reach the ambush site to change into her leathers, while Willow had quickly checked Ember's journal and various of her other books for entries on lesser demons, specifically what distinctive traces, if any, they left on battlefields. She stood behind Tara, leaning on her staff and gazing around, looking for something to catch her eye, Ember's journal open in her free hand.

As Kert's guard had said, the scene of the ambush was in a hollow, not readily visible from afar. The road had been cleared, but still bore a blackened patch where a fire had burned. The charred remains of a burned wagon lay to one side of the road, where they had been dragged, and a little further off were three graves, marked with crosses in the manner common to most of the faiths of Westmarch and Khanduras. On the other side of the road, in a patch of bare land, a dozen or more blackened bodies remained, piled up and burned. Kert and his chief scout were moving slowly about the scene, discerning what they could from the scene.

"They must have driven off the attackers," Willow said, "otherwise who buried them like that? See the way the markers have a halo scratched into the wood, at the joint of the cross? They were prepared for burial so they wouldn't rise. No demon would do that."

"There's traces here of at least five wagons," Tara added, "but only the remains of one. The others must have continued on."

"Do you think brigands might have done it?" Willow asked. "Stolen the wagons, buried their own, and burned the victims?"

"Perhaps, but I'd bet against it," Tara said. "If they wanted to steal, they wouldn't have set fire to a wagon. Maybe it happened by accident, during the fighting, but…well, there's one way to be sure." She stood up and looked across the road at the pile of charred corpses.

"And the day started off so nicely," lamented Willow with a rueful grin. She shrugged, and she and Tara made their way to the pile of bodies. There wasn't much left, fortunately most of the flesh seemed to have been burned beyond the point of rotting, and the air bore only a faint smell of decay.

"Not human," Tara observed, her voice a little strained, but level. "Too small. Carvers?"

Willow pulled a face, and leaned forward to tap one of the protruding extremities with her staff. The piece she touched crumbled a little, making a small pile of ash.

"I should be able to tell," she said, borrowing Tara's knife to scoop up a little of the ash. She handed the knife back to Tara and reached into one of the pouches on her belt, drawing out a handful of small runestones. She sorted through them, finally selecting three and kneeling down to place them on the ground. Tara handed the knife back to her, and watched as she dumped the ash over the stones, then used the tip of the blade to draw a pattern in the dirt, linking the stones. When she was satisfied with the arrangement she drew a diamond shape around it, and watched as the ash stirred and settled into some of the channels she had scratched in the ground.

"Carvers, fallen or dark ones," she said thoughtfully. "They're similar creatures, I don't have the equipment to do a more accurate spell. But dark ones are pretty rare, and almost never come out from underground anyway. Last I heard, all the nests of fallen this far south had been wiped out. Carvers it is."

"How does that work?" Tara asked as Willow picked up her runes and scratched out the pattern in the dirt.

"It's a sort of prime magic," Willow explained. "All living things, even demonic creatures, have their own animating energy. It's distinct from the soul, and it stays in the body after death, until it seeps back into the earth, which takes months. The pattern has lines that represent various kinds of energy, and the runes provide a little kick to move the remains into the parts of the pattern that match them. It works with blood, normally, so I guess it's lucky they were burned."

"Yeah, I'm not really up for touching Carver blood," Willow said with a slight grin, a little of the color returning to her face as she and Tara turned their backs on the piled-up demon corpses.

"So, the way I read it, maybe three dozen of them attacked," Tara said, "it's difficult to tell from the traces, but I think it may have been that many."

"Probably at least than many," Willow said, "if they attacked a caravan of five wagons. They'd only risk it if they had strength in numbers."

"There were trained men with the caravan," Tara went on, "maybe not in uniform, maybe the creatures just didn't realize. They drove them back after the initial attack, fought them over there," she pointed beyond where the traces of the burned wagon had been, "killed enough that the others broke and ran. They couldn't put out the fire on the burning wagon - maybe there was alcohol or flammable stores in it - so they waited until it burned itself out, then dragged what was left off the road. And buried their dead," she added thoughtfully. Willow followed her gaze, to the three graves, where Kert was standing, staring at one of them. They walked over, and stood in silence, waiting for him to acknowledge them. He looked up, sadness etched in his face.

"It was last month's caravan," he explained quietly, "set out four weeks ago, headed out west over the highlands." He nodded at the middle of the three graves. "I knew him. Good man." He lapsed into silence for a moment, then looked at Willow and Tara again. "Did you learn anything?"

"W-we're pretty sure it was Carvers," Tara said quietly. "They attacked, were fought off quickly, b-but not before they burned a wagon and… did this. Between three and four weeks ago. Nothing since then."

"Thank you miss," Kert said, "you too, miss," he added to Willow. "The dead have been properly seen to, and those," he shot a glare at the charred demon bodies, "don't deserve better. We'll move on shortly." Willow and Tara stayed a moment, staring in silence at the graves, then turned and headed back to their wagon.

"Are you okay?" Willow asked, concerned at the frown marring Tara's face as they sat together, feeling the wagon lurch into motion.

"Same, I guess," Willow admitted. "Hey, you want to take that ride?" Tara looked up thoughtfully, then smiled properly.

Tara's choice of horse for the two of them, called Aurora, the attendant told her, was strong but gentle, able to carry both Willow and Tara without complaint. Tara smiled as Willow, at her suggestion, talked to the horse for a little while before settling into the saddle behind her, proclaiming Aurora 'very nice, for a horse.' They rode at a gentle pace alongside the caravan through the day, returning to the saddle after lunch at Willow's prompting - she admitted she was starting to see the appeal of riding, though once they were out again, she confessed that it was partly how much she could feel Tara enjoying herself. They talked idly, of nothing in particular, for most of the afternoon. Tara spent most of the time gazing out at the highland panorama around them, the sharply angled hills on either side rising to distant mountains in the west, and dropping away on the eastern horizon, where, invisible to the caravan, the Kingsway river ran. Willow cuddled contentedly against Tara's back, and talked in a rambling fashion, the scenery prompting her to recall various snippets of geography she had learned from the Zann Esu library, going off on long tangents whenever she thought of something interesting.

The Jesram crossroads, when they reached it just as the sun was touching the mountains in the west, was definitely not worth calling a town, but looked sturdy nonetheless. There were a few small one room houses and lean-tos on either side of the crossroads, but the important buildings, the storehouses, the smithy and the guard house, were all contained within high earth walls, built out from the side of a hill on the east side of the road, facing along the Jesram trail. The top of the wall was fortified with a wooden stockade, which ran up the hill itself, encompassing a watchtower at the top. The handful of guards manning the post had seen the caravan approaching, and had the gates open and waiting as they approached. The gates closed again once all the wagons were inside, and Kert and Shan spoke to the sergeant in command. Willow and Tara retired to their wagon, the tiny outpost having no accommodations for travelers.

"Thank you for riding with me," Tara said, as Willow prepared a simple dinner for them. "The morning was, well, a bit of a shock, but I… I feel better now."

"You're welcome," Willow said, handing her a plate, "and you know I'd do anything to make you feel better. But I really do enjoy riding with you, regardless of the circumstances. You might make a horsewoman out of me yet."

"Don't get too ambitious," Willow warned her with a laugh. "I'm glad you feel better," she said, in a sort voice. "The last few days have been…well, pretty darn close to perfect, I guess the reality of the world was bound to turn up sooner or later."

They ate mostly in silence, with a few random observations about the day punctuating their meal. Tara finished first, idly brushing Willow's hair while she waited for her to finish. Willow gave her a kiss and took her plate once she was done, returning them both to the small kitchen in the outpost they had come from. When she got back, Tara was just pulling off her armor and preparing for bed.

"What's this?" she asked with a grin, as Willow shuffled out of her skirt, revealing her lack of substantial underwear.

"Oh, that," Willow said, "I forgot…I put it on this morning. You know, when the day was still going all fairy-tale-style."

"Fairy tales always have goblins, or something like that, don't they?" asked Tara.

"Yep, usually. Goblins, mean old dwarves, wicked witches, thank you very much whoever writes those things."

"Well then," Tara said, "just so long as there's a happy ending, it doesn't matter if there's a monster or two along the way." She leaned over to Willow and murmured in her ear: "I think tonight should have a happy ending, don't you?"

"Oh gods," Willow said, "as if I could ever refuse. But you don't have to, you know-"

"But I want to," Tara whispered, teasing Willow's ear with the tip of her tongue. "Shall I tell you what I want?"

"You must be tired," Tara went on, "from all that riding, if you're not used to it. I think you should lay down and relax, and let me kiss your sex until you're dripping wet." Willow swallowed, her breath stalling for a moment at Tara's words, spoken in her most seductive purr. She lifted her arms as Tara pulled her top up and off, then lay back among the blankets just as Tara has asked, relaxing herself completely as Tara took off her boots and hooked her fingers into the waist of her underwear. Slowly, following her fingers with kisses, she pulled them down Willow's legs. Willow spread her thighs at Tara's gentle prompting, and moaned quietly as she felt the sublime sensation of Tara's lips tenderly kissing all over her sex.

"Oh baby," she whispered as Tara's tongue parted her lips, "oh gods that's wonderful." Tara alternated her attentions between long, deep explorations inside Willow's sex, and sensual licking and nibbling of her lips. She made sure to touch Willow's clit only lightly, and just in passing, letting her climax build slowly rather than urging it. Willow writhed her legs slowly, unable to keep her body still, as she whispered "my love" over and over, like a mantra.

Finally Tara closed her lips softly around Willow's clit and began to suck, lightly at first, but with building intensity, her tongue moving from brief, soft caresses to firmly massaging the bundle of nerves. Willow moaned as loud as she dared, spreading her legs wide to give Tara complete access. She reached down and wound her hand into Tara's hair, holding her head against her sex. Tara smiled, her lips pressed firmly against Willow, and teased her opening with a fingertip.

"Oh yes baby," Willow moaned, "oh gods yes…" Tara teased her a moment longer, waiting until Willow's moans and writhing started to become just a little desperate, then carefully lined up her index and forefinger and buried them in Willow in one smooth motion.

"Ah!" Willow exclaimed, her mouth remaining open as she tossed her head back, her knees lifting to give her the traction to thrust her hips towards Tara, taking Tara's offered fingers within herself as deep as she could, until Tara's knuckles nestled between the lips of her sex. Tara flexed her fingers, drawing another sharp moan from Willow, then began rhythmically stroking her, matching her fingertips on Willow's sweet spot with her tongue on her clit. Willow's breathing came in time to Tara's ministrations, steadily increasing in pace as her fingers thrust, her tongue worked, and at last Willow came with a muffled cry, her sex providing ample juices which Tara lovingly, eagerly licked up.

"Oh my Tara," Willow murmured, as Tara moved up to lie beside her, enveloping her in her embrace as they had become accustomed to, "happily ever after…body and soul…"

"Happily ever after," Tara agreed, settling her head down and nestling into Willow's hair.

Willow opened her eyes and blinked slowly, trying to work out what had woken her up in the first place. Rain was beating on the wagon's canvas roof, but it was a steady sound that she had to concentrate to really notice, and not the kind of thing she thought would have woken her. She had a vague memory of Tara saying something, and a moment later her curiosity was sated as Tara murmured something incoherent in her ear from behind. Willow smiled and slowly turned herself over to face her lover, finding her still asleep and, to all appearances, in the middle of a very enjoyable dream, arching her body against Willow and murmuring a lot of 'mmm' sounds, along with a word here and there that Willow didn't quite catch.

"Someone's having good dreams," Willow whispered to herself, careful not to disturb Tara from her pleasant slumber. 'Not that I can complain,' she added in the privacy of her own mind. Willow's dreams had featured the occasional disturbing moment of something moving in shadows, and a chilling, hissing whisper, but always the unsettling images and sounds faded away into inconsequentiality, in the face of a dream-Tara holding her, stroking her hair, whispering sweet words and touching her in sweeter places. She had also dreamed something about a school of fish singing in harmony, with a swimming mouse accompanying them in a resonant bass, but she had long ago learned not to spend too much time analyzing those kinds of dreams.

Willow was drawn pleasantly out of her reverie by Tara's voice, mumbling something that sounded like 'Willow'. Willow smiled widely, wrapping an arm around Tara's waist, stealthily so as not to wake her, delighted that she was in Tara's dreams just as Tara had been in hers. Tara's eyes remained closed, but on some level she seemed aware of Willow, the hand that had been around Willow, now loosely draped over her back, lightly clutching at her, as if in her dream Tara was pulling her closer. Willow eagerly obliged, weaving her legs between Tara's and pressing their bodies together. She was surprised to feel just how much heat and moisture there was against her thigh when Tara clamped it between her legs and rolled her hips forward.

"Very good dreams," Willow murmured. She stayed still for a moment, letting Tara move against her which she did with increasing vigor, then succumbed to the temptation of Tara's breasts pressing against her, and leaned down. Tara moaned quietly as Willow took her nipple into her mouth, encouraging Willow to hold her a little firmer between her lips, and flick her tongue back and forth.

Tara's body shuddered and both her hands went at once to the back of Willow's head, holding her to her breast as her hips rocked heatedly against her thigh. Willow slid her leg forward rhythmically, meeting Tara's thrusts, thoroughly enjoying the feel of Tara's fingers in her hair, urging her to a task that she needed no urging to undertake in the first place. She stilled her tongue for a moment, concentrating purely on the sensations she could give with her lips, sucking voraciously, and a moment later Tara gasped, squeezed her legs tightly around Willow's thigh, and her body released a wave of pleasure. Willow leisurely trailed her hand up and down Tara's side as she recovered, feeling her tremble from the contact.

"Good morning," she said with a grin when Tara finally opened her eyes and looked down at her.

"Willow," Tara whispered, smiling, "oh goddess…good morning to you too, Miss Understatement." Willow laughed.

"You seemed to be having a nice dream," she explained, "so I thought I'd join in."

"Oh, I was having…" Tara trailed off. "Actually, it was kind of strange. Not strange in a bad way," she hastened to reassure Willow, "just, you know…not something I'd have quite expected."

"Well," Tara said slowly, "it was about you – that's not the strange part," she added with a quick grin. "Um, it was at home – Tran Athulua – and we were in my room, and you lay me down and leaned over and you were kissing me…really kissing me, and I was getting so worked up, I felt like I was going to burst…and then, you, um, started kissing my breasts…" Tara trailed off, looking very shy.

"And," Tara said, blushing, "I, um…you were sucking my nipples, and I…um, I was giving you milk." At Willow's surprised look, she quickly went on: "Not like you were a baby or anything, I mean, it was, goddess, i-it was so…erotic, I felt so…um, anyway, I think that's when I woke up, and," she smiled, "things weren't too far from what I'd been dreaming. Um, is that okay?"

"Is it okay?" Willow echoed. "Of course it's- Tara, I love you! Of course it's okay, I mean, yes, it's, well…"

"Okay," Willow admitted, "it wasn't the first thing I would've guessed, but you know, I don't think there's anything wrong with what you were dreaming."

"I-I don't want you to think I'm thinking of you like a child, or anything," Tara said hesitantly.

"Not at all," Willow assured her, "I think…I think that was a really beautiful thing you were imagining, and I think it was about you sharing something very, very intimate and loving with me, a-and I love you so much…I love that you want to take care of me, and that you share your, your life, everything, with me so completely…"

"I know," Tara said, "I just didn't want you to think I was imagining you…I don't know, um, in a, a passive position? Or something like that."

"No, honey," Willow cooed, "no, I never thought that…I mean, it's okay for you to feel that way for me, I feel the same way for you, and I know you accept it, you let me take care of you in all these ways, like bathing you, and getting our meals ready, and stuff…I think what your dream was about was you caring for me, and us being in love."

"I love you too," Willow replied. "Just out of curiosity, do Amazons breastfeed? Is it something you talk about, or – well, not just talk about randomly, but, I mean, where I was born for instance, it was this really private thing, a mother would never do it in public. Is it like that?"

"No," Tara said, "no, it's just…if a mother has a baby that's hungry, she feeds the baby, I don't think anyone would ever object to it. I was just, well, a bit nervous about what you might think…you know, with it being something between a mother and child."

"Well, I've never felt like you were treating me like a child," Willow said, "and you're really nothing like my mother. I think, for us, it's between you and me, as lovers. Okay?"

"Okay," Willow echoed. "So, now that that's out of the way, are you going to keep telling me about this dream in exquisite detail?" Tara grinned, a lot of her shyness gone.

"It was…intense," she said. "Wh-when I felt you drinking from me, it was like we weren't two people anymore, I was physically becoming part of you…and it was creating this incredible heat inside me, and I was getting so wet it was unbelievable…"

"Actually that part wasn't just a dream," Willow smiled, "and my thigh definitely believed it."

"Heh," Tara chuckled, "yeah…I felt as if…as if I was going to come, but not just my sex, I felt it in my whole body, every part of me, and I was giving it all to you…" She took a deep breath. "I'm pretty sure I woke up around then, and suddenly it was real, you were sucking my nipple, and I was coming so hard I…wow," she said with a grin, "you really know how to make a girl glad she woke up."

"Well, you know," Willow said dismissively, smiling cheekily, "all part of the service when you get me to fall in love with you. I'm just glad my dream-self is keeping up her end of the bargain." Tara hugged her warmly.

"I love that you're in my dreams," she whispered, "even when I'm asleep you're with me."

"You're in my dreams too," Willow said, "all the time. Though, I wouldn't say no to a few of your dreams…I think my imagination wastes too much time on singing fish."

"They had this little song," Willow explained without thinking, "sort of, 'It's good to be a fish, it's good to be a fish, even if you're a mouse…' There was a mouse, too, that was his line…" She grinned at Tara, who was struggling not to laugh.

"Oh yeah, in this deep bass voice," she pitched her voice as deep as it would go, "'even if you're a mouse'." Tara burst out laughing, and Willow joined in.

"More than yours?" Willow asked with a grin. "Because, you know, soprano fish versus orgasmic experience…I know which one I'd choose." Tara smiled and stroked her cheek.

"Oh Willow," she said softly, "right now, this moment…every moment I spend with you is so much better than any dream I've ever had."

Willow held one side of a waterproof tarpaulin as Tara climbed down from the wagon, quickly taking up the other side to shield them both from the rain. Together they made their way across the muddy courtyard to the guardhouse, where the caravan had made its headquarters for the night, and where breakfast would be found. Instead they found Shan and Gerrid engaged in a heated argument, with Kert, Tryptin and Melcan watching silently from the sidelines.

"-bloody dangerous, that's why," Shan was saying flatly as they closed the door on the rain-soaked courtyard.

"Large and well-armed we may be," Shan countered, "but I tell you sir, if we take the west road we're asking for trouble."

"The prospects do not look good for the Duncraig delegation to make its detour to Jesram," Tryptin explained, as Melcan poured Willow and Tara each a bowl of hot soup from the pot on the fire.

"It's a town of three hundred people," Gerrid said, "and barely two days from the realm's border, surely you don't think there's any real threat."

"It's not the town I'm worried about," Shan said, "it's the road. You've seen what it's like outside. Well sir, I was up at dawn watching the weather come in, and I tell you we'll be lucky if the rain lifts before the week is out."

"The rain's not the danger," Shan countered, "that road's not a hard surface like the highland is, in this weather it'll be three days to Jesram and another four to Harthim, and that's if we're lucky and don't throw a wheel, or sink one of the carts axle-deep in a pothole. That's seven days that we're a slow-moving target for any band of these creatures that sees us!"

"Is the threat really so severe?" Gerrid asked, turning to Kert. The lieutenant squared his shoulders, and spoke in a grim voice.

"I think it may be," he said, "I've talked to all the guards here, and they've kept records of what was said by all who passed through this crossroads. From what they've heard, there's been no less than three incidents on the Jesram road involving loss of life due to creatures of some kind. One of the parties gave their word it was demons that attacked them. And this is a highlands storm; we know all about this kind of weather, we get the like of it at home. It'll sit here for a week or more, foul any road barring proper hard surfaces…our scouts won't be able to see far enough to be useful, and trumpets or lit arrows won't serve as signals in this downpour, so our outriders'll have to stay within sight of us. I'm not saying we'll definitely be attacked, or that we won't fight well and a damn sight fiercer than any demon will expect, but…I don't like it, sir, and that's a fact. I'm with Master Shan – we should make for the ford, and Harthim."

"Well…" Gerrid hesitated, "I'm loath to risk the safety of the caravan, of course…you're sure the road will be good? The ford will be safe to cross?"

"The highland road's solidly-built," Shan said with authority, "it'll hold a hard surface to anything less than a hurricane, and the ford likewise. It's reinforced, far sturdier than it need be, for the size of the river. I've crossed it safely in spring, with the melt water from the mountains swelling the river – this rain won't be a problem."

"I see," Gerrid said, obviously not happy with the way the argument was going, "well, then, if this route is that much safer…but the Duke is expecting the reports from Jesram, you see, the dispatches we were to bring back cover all the Kingsway mountains, you must know how important they are, the mines and so forth…"

"Begging your pardon, sir," Kert said, "but I could go alone, and fetch your reports. If there's nothing to do but collect them?"

"I suppose," Gerrid began, then frowned. "But you'd be in just as much danger, surely- no, more, one man alone instead of an armed caravan!"

"I'll take my horse and a remount," Kert explained patiently, "set a quick pace there and back, cut across country north of the river rather than following the road's route. I know these horses, they won't complain about the ground in this weather. Would you say two days?" he asked Shan.

"And I don't know monsters," Kert went on to Gerrid, "but if they're anything like brigands, they'll not be trouble to a soldier riding fast. They'd have to catch him, kill a trained man, for no reward other than what he carries on him. No supply wagons to loot. It's not profitable. That's if I'm spotted – they may watch the roads, but it'd be a sure-sighted creature that'd find a man riding across country in this rain."

"Well…" Gerrid said again, "it's not that I doubt your capabilities, of course, the Baron highly recommended you, and your men…but still, to ask you to ride off alone, in these conditions with these creatures about-"

"You're not asking me, sir," Kert said, "I'm volunteering. This is important business of yours and Duncraig's, and as an officer of Kingsport it's my duty."

"Very well," Gerrid said, after a brief hesitation, "very well…come with me, then, I'll explain what you must do when you reach Jesram…" He and Kert left the guardhouse, and Tara watched them through the window, splashing across the courtyard towards Gerrid's wagon.

"Staying on this road, by the look of it," Tara said, remembering what she had seen of Kert's map. "There's a small river that runs down from the mountains to the Kingsway. Up ahead there's a ford where the highland road crosses it, then Harthim, where Duncraig's border is."

"Two days, I expect miss," he said. "I'd have said a day and a half, and we'd be in Harthim tomorrow afternoon, but in this weather we'll probably have to make camp just on the other side of the ford, and it'll be evening by the time we reach the town. Good solid road all the way, though," he went on, noticing Tryptin listening in, "I doubt you'll notice the rain having much of an effect, so long as we all keep the wagons covered. The road up to Jesram and back is really just a wide trail, it'll be mud as deep as the ocean by now. But Kert'll be fine on horseback, I wouldn't be surprised if he reached Harthim same time as us."

"Not often, no," Shan said, "it's a big town, but all they really do is operate the mines. Duncraig sends a barge up the river every season to bring out the minerals, so I suppose they've never seen the need for a proper road up there. New town, you know, when I was a boy it was just getting started. The highland road, now, that's been here for centuries. We'll be fine."

"Pity," Tara said quietly to Willow, "I was looking forward to seeing the mountains. I've never seen realm mountains, apart from the ones at home. I thought I might do some sketches."

"One day," Willow promised, "we'll follow the route I took when I first went to Entsteig. We got on a riverboat high up in the ranges and sailed down…sometimes the cliffs on either side of the river reach up to the sky, it's like another world. You'll be able to sketch to your heart's content."

"It sounds amazing," Tara smiled, "but you realize, of course, if you insist on taking me to these wonderful places, we'll be too busy doing other things to our hearts' content."

"Finish your soup," Willow whispered with a seductive look, "our wagon is beckoning."

They passed Kert, on his way to the stables, and Tara put a hand on Willow's arm for a moment to halt her, then ducked out from underneath the shelter of their tarpaulin to face him.

"Gods be with you," she said, meeting his gaze. He nodded, one warrior to another, then went on his way as Tara ducked back underneath the shelter with Willow, and they both scurried back to their wagon as quickly as they could.

"He'll be okay, won't he?" Willow said once they had scrambled back out of the rain. "I mean, all that stuff he said about riding quickly, and no-one spotting him or paying any attention…?"

"That's all true," Tara said reassuringly, pulling off her boots and wiping the mud off with a cloth before storing them, "I think he'll be fine. H-he seems a very good soldier, from what I've seen."

"That's about it," Tara said. "Brrr! I don't envy him the ride." She shivered, prompting Willow to reach for a towel to help dry her off.

"Look in the mirror sometime and see if you can blame me," Willow joked. She helped Tara off with the heavy tunic she had chosen to keep the rain out, then got distracted kissing her stomach as she was undoing her skirt.

"You know," Tara mused, "I'm starting to think you had an ulterior motive for getting my clothes off. Eeep!" she added as Willow plunged her tongue into her navel and tickled her.

"Not at all," Willow said as she resumed pulling Tara's skirt down, "if it was ulterior it'd be all subtle and unnoticeable. Whereas I make no secret of the fact that I find you utterly," she punctuated with another kiss on Tara's navel, "totally sexy, and that your mere presence is enough to turn me on unbelievably."

"My mere presence, huh?" Tara said, sitting up after lying down to help Willow get her skirt off. "So, if I was, for example, just sitting here, fully-clothed, reading a book, that'd be enough to turn you on?"

"So," Tara said, her voice low, "what if I was sitting in front of you just like this, completely naked, and I were to tell you that I'm seriously considering lying you down, straddling your hips, kissing you until you moan, reaching into you, bringing you to climax, and then licking your juices off my fingers afterwards?"

"Uh-huh," Willow replied. Tara's smile widened as she put her hands to Willow's shoulders, gently pushing her down to rest on the blankets. As promised, she straddled Willow, placing her hands on her hips and straightening her back, reveling in the lustful stare she received from Willow. She gave Willow a wink, then leaned forward slowly, bringing her lips agonizing close to Willow's without quite touching.

"You want me to kiss you," she murmured, more an observation than a question. Willow let out a desperate whimper.

"Not yet," Tara whispered, as her right hand trailed down Willow's body, reaching the hem of her skirt and pulling it up her legs to bunch around her waist.

"Not just yet," Tara repeated softly, "just…little tastes…" She brushed her lips lightly against Willow's, enjoying the way Willow would gasp and move for her with each contact. She kept up her teasing half-kisses as her fingers crept down through Willow's curls, pushing her underwear down as she went, reaching down further to stroke the lips of her sex.

"Not yet," Tara insisted gently, "when I enter you…when I reach inside you and touch your soul…then I'll kiss you…would you like that?"

"Ah," Willow gasped incoherently, as Tara's fingers parted her lips and teased her entrance.

"For you," Willow gasped, "yours…" Tara lowered her mouth onto Willow's, at the same time as her finger slid deep inside her, Willow's wetness offering no resistance. Willow's body surged beneath her, her hips and mouth mirroring each other as both reached towards the penetration, deepening it. Tara swirled her tongue in Willow's mouth, exploring every angle, as her finger stroked Willow inside, pumping gently, pressing against her walls. She fixed her attention on Willow's tongue at the same moment as she found her sweet spot. Willow jolted as if an arc of power were running between the two points, electrifying her body with every thrust. She moaned loudly into Tara's mouth as Tara's thumb brushed her clit – only a single, light contact, but it was enough to release the orgasm building inside her. Again and again she moaned, Tara swallowing the sound, as her body shook, and rewarded Tara's questing finger with a gush of her juices.

When Tara finally parted her lips from Willow's it felt strange to her, as if having Tara's lips pressed against her mouth was her natural state, and she was somehow exposed and unfinished without it. The feeling lasted only a fraction of a second before Tara was gently kissing her cheek and neck, renewing the contact that Willow craved. She had just the strength to roll her head sideways to look at Tara, as she leaned back, supporting her head with one arm.

"I love you," Tara said, "you're beautiful in every way." She lifted her other hand, glistening with Willow's wetness, and carefully licked the juices from it, her blissful expression showing Willow exactly how much she was enjoying it.

"Ooh, what kind of game?" Willow replied with a mischievous grin, causing Tara to laugh. The rain outside had continued through the morning as the caravan set off for the ford, easily slightly now and then but keeping up a steady downpour nonetheless. The turn-off for the Jesram road, only a few hundred meters beyond the crossroads outpost, had already begun to look weather-beaten and difficultly muddy, but the highland road held firm, just as Shan had said it would.

"Not that kind of game, you insatiable creature," Tara said, "it's a mind game. Strategy, logic, that kind of thing."

"You're hopeless," Tara said fondly. She opened one of her bags, unloading her ceremonial armor and producing a slim wooden box from beneath it, which she handed to Willow as she repacked the armor. Willow looked at it curiously – it was half as deep as it was wide, and both top and bottom were patterned with painted squares, red and dark gray.

"Open it," Tara said, laying her breastplate back on top of the accompanying leathers and strapping the bag shut again. Willow flipped open the latch of the box and found the inside divided in two, each with a selection of carved playing pieces, also red and gray. She picked one and examined it closely – it was finely made, a tiny woman with a bow on her back, crouching like a tracker on her base. Tara took the box and upended it on a blanket, tipping out the other pieces, then laid it out so that the hinged halves of the box came together to form a playing board.

"It's called Lycander's Command," Tara explained, setting the pieces on the board. "After one of our greatest generals. Hundreds of years ago the Zaggasi pirates mounted a huge assault on the islands, and conquered Skovos and Philios. The island that's called Lycander now was the last bastion we had. Lycander was the husband of the Grand Mistress, the commander of all our armies, and when she was lost in the retreat from Philios, and there were no other veteran warriors, he took command. He was a strategic genius – our warriors were outnumbered, the pirates had great warships and they'd built forts on Philios and Skovos, but Lycander outmaneuvered them, and after four years drove them off the islands completely. When the government was restored and a new Queen was chosen, she offered him permanent command, as our first Grand Master, but he chose to go back to being a farmer, and caring for his daughter." She finished arranging the pieces, ranked against each other on either side of the board.

"These are the Governors," she said, pointing to the matching pieces in the centers of the red and gray lines, the only ones that were male. "They represent the people the warriors are protecting. They can't fight as well as most of the other pieces, but if you lose your Governor you lose the game. This is the Grand Mistress," next to each governor was a figure of a woman in ornate armor, with a long spear, "she's the commander of the army, and she's the best fighter. These two are Champions," women in tall full-face helmets carrying crossbows, "these are Huntresses, they can move behind enemy lines," the crouched bow-wielding figures Willow had examined one of earlier, "these are Ballistae," crossbow-like war engines mounted on wheels, "and these are your Warriors." The front rank of each 'army' was composed entirely of Warriors, eight on each side, with bucklers and javelins. Tara demonstrated briefly how each one moved, then explained the special rules for Warriors advancing on their first move, and how Huntresses could move through enemy pieces, but no one else could, and how the Governor could make a 'decoy' switch with a Ballista. Willow moved a couple of the pieces experimentally, and found that they stuck to the board.

"How's that work?" she asked, peering at the figures' bases, each of which contained a tiny metal disc. "Magnets?"

"It's something the priests of Zerae can do," Tara explained, "they treat iron with a little of Zerae's power, and the metal attracts or repels depending on which way around you have it. I'm not sure exactly how it's done. They use it for all sorts of things."

"We call it magnetics," Willow said, "lightning sorceresses can create magnetic iron out of normal iron."

"Well, nothing much," Willow admitted, "keeping cabinet doors closed, that kind of thing. Nothing very impressive. There's rumors that the assassins use magnetics to create their weapons, make metal move and fly the way we do with fire and ice. I don't know if that's true, no one knows much about them. There's stories that there's even a way to make iron alive, but I have no idea how that works, or who's supposed to be able to do it. It's probably just a myth." She peered at the figure in her hands, then replaced it and tilted the board slightly, watching the pieces hold their positions. "Cool. Who goes first?"

Tara gave Willow and her small army of red pieces the first move, and the game began. At first Willow concentrated on trying to maneuver her pieces into striking positions without risking them to counter-attack, spending most of her time countering Tara's moves and making it risky for her to advance. After several turns the lines of Warriors had become staggered and some of the second rank had moved forward. Willow was surprised to see Tara leave one of her Ballistae in a vulnerable position, and hesitated before she could strike with one of her Huntresses. She withdrew her hand, aware of Tara watching her intently, and studied the board, seeing the trap after a moment – her Huntress would have fallen next turn, to a Champion currently halfway across the board.

"Your problem," Willow said, moving one of her own Champions to threaten a Huntress instead, "is that I *know* you're not careless enough to leave an opening like that."

"I'll have to make my careless moves more carefully," Tara smiled, swooping her Grand Mistress in to take a Warrior and threaten Willow's Governor. Willow stared at the board for a moment, working out how Tara had maneuvered her pieces into that position without her noticing.

"Nice," she grinned, biting the tip of her tongue in thought, "very nice…but the brain of Willow does not submit so easily." Over the next dozen or so turns she and Tara dueled for position, sacrificing a Warrior or two along the way to draw the other into a difficult strike. Finally Willow managed, with considerable difficulty, to draw Tara into a position where both a Ballista and a Huntress were threatened. Tara raised an eyebrow.

"Hey, no fair," Willow protested, "it's hard enough concentrating with you leaning forward like that." Tara looked down at the neckline of her top, which, as she leant on her arms to ponder the board, was more than a little revealing.

"A good tactician uses every advantage at her disposal," she said with a placid smile.

"Well fine," Willow said with an innocent-looking bat of her eyelashes, "but just remember, if I lose this game because my thoughts were elsewhere, you owe me a rematch and I'm taking my skirt off."

"That sounds like plenty of incentive for me to win," Tara laughed. She protected her Huntress, and made Willow give a Warrior next turn in exchange for the loss of her Ballista. With both defensive lines slowly being whittled down the game became faster and more fluid, with risks paying greater rewards, but the loss of each piece sacrificed for a striking position more keenly felt. Finally it came down to both Governors, Tara's Huntress and Champion, and Willow's Grand Mistress, all stalking each other around the board.

"Nuts," Willow frowned, when finally, for all her Grand Mistress's flexibility, she couldn't keep her Governor from being boxed in and immobilized by Tara's pieces. "You win."

"Not quite," Tara said, "if you can't move but I can't strike with the pieces as they are, it's considered a draw in my favor. What do you think?"

"Does a draw in your favor mean I take my skirt off?" Willow asked, already undoing her belt.

"Difficult to say," Tara said, doing her best to sound offhand, "I don't think there are formal rules for strip Command."

"Well, we'll just have to make some then, won't we?" Willow said, stretching up on her knees and letting her skirt drop.

The caravan reached the ford just as afternoon was turning into evening, and crossed the river with the last light of the day. There was much to do to prepare the camp site on the other side, which hadn't seen use in some time, and it was well into the evening by the time the wagons were corralled, the horses set to graze and sleep under the watchful eye of their handlers, and the night shift of guards stationed nearby, keeping watch as best they could through the rain while huddling beneath their cloaks and hoods for warmth. Finally, within a tent to keep the rain at bay and prevent the light from shining too brightly, a fire was started and the caravan's amateur cooks set to work.

Tara chose her time carefully, scurrying out in boots, a thick robe and waterproof cape and hood, while the rain eased off for a few minutes to a light drizzle. She had insisted there was no need for Willow to come with her, and was duly rewarded when she returned to the wagon with two covered plates, and Willow pampered her outrageously, drying her, vigorously rubbing her thighs and arms to warm her, and not coincidentally stirring Tara's appetite for more than food. They talked during dinner, about the journey ahead and the prospect of reaching the border of Duncraig realm the next day, but increasingly their eyes were drawn to the other's stare, and they would lose track of what they were saying. Finally Willow set aside her empty plate and moved to sit beside Tara, stroking her thigh idly as she finished her meal.

"So tell me," she said as Tara leaned over to discard her plate, "what's it like on the islands? Impressive mountain ranges?" Her hand made its way up Tara's body and settled in her cleavage, her fingertips stroking lightly up and down.

"Uh-huh," Tara breathed, lying back. Willow lay beside her, head propped up on one arm, her other hand continuing its leisurely study of Tara's chest.

"Yes," she said, watching Tara's breathing deepen, "very impressive…proud peaks…" She trailed a fingertip up Tara's breast and over her nipple, then began stroking her stomach. "Plains, too, I bet?"

"And let me guess," Willow went on, her hand moving lower, "then comes the jungle." She ran her fingers through Tara's curls, smiling at the reaction she saw in Tara's expression.

"Oh that's divine," she whispered as Willow's fingertips brushed back and forth.

"But we haven't finished yet," Willow purred, "there's still where the land…meets the deep, seductive sea." Tara gasped as Willow's fingers skirted either side of her clit and gently parted her lips.

"Willow," she breathed, "please…I…" She touched Willow's thigh, and Willow at once understood, and lifted herself up on her knees, half-straddling Tara, staring up at her with lustful eyes as she delicately kissed each of her nipples. Tara closed her eyes and moaned, a blissful smile on her face, and her hand moved up the inside of Willow's thigh to touch her sex.

"Together," Willow said in a gasp, positioning the tip of her finger at Tara's entrance.

Willow and Tara entered each other simultaneously, both sliding their fingers into the wet, gripping heat that awaited them. When they reached their depth inside each other they were still for a moment, then Willow began to rock her hips slowly back and forth, and started a series of gentle, firm thrusts into Tara's sex. Tara matched her move for move, and Willow lifted her head to catch Tara's lips in a searing kiss as they moved as one, each cupping the other's mound, rubbing her clit, each rolling their hips forward, welcoming the other into her sex, gasping in their kiss as they found each other's special spot and applied a firm pressure with every thrust. There was no separation; their two bodies were a single form, their mirrored pleasuring of each other drawing on a single orgasm the stirred deep in both their bodies, fuelled by their desire to please each other and accept the other's pleasure in return, gaining strength in both their sexes, electrifying both their bodies, reaching up into their breasts as they pressed against each other, and to their lips as they kissed, and as one they came. Both moaned into the other's mouth – loudly, though if they were heard there was no sign of it – and Willow eased herself down to lie half on top of Tara, her body completely spent, her finger still within Tara and her sex still treating her to ripples of pleasure as Tara remained within her.

"One day," Tara promised, using her free hand to draw the heavy blankets over both of them, "we'll see the islands…I'll show you everything…"

"I have everything I need right here," Willow murmured, kissing Tara's neck and nibbling lightly on her ear. "I love you forever, baby."

"I love you, my Willow," Tara whispered, sleep starting to get the better of her. "My love, my heart…my soul…my joy…goodnight, my sweet Willow."

Tara woke, yawned, and smiled down at Willow, who was pillowed on her breast and, even in sleep, gave every indication of enjoying her position. She wriggled slightly as Tara stretched, then opened her eyes and blinked lazily.

"Oh, yeah. Raining still," she observed. She peered at Tara in the gloom of the unlit wagon. "What're you grinning at?" she asked.

"My thigh's between your legs," Tara whispered, "it's, ah, pretty hot and wet down there."

"Seems a shame to let all that lovely Willow-goodness go to waste," Tara purred, "why don't you bring it up here?" Willow looked hesitant for a moment, but at Tara's obliging nod she lifted herself up on hands and knees and straddled Tara's waist.

"Come on," Tara murmured, "don't be shy." Willow slowly moved further up, letting the blankets fall off her shoulders as she straightened up. Tara reached down and wrapped her arms around Willow's thighs, pulling her hips closer to her mouth.

"That's right," she breathed as Willow knelt on either side of her head, and gently lowered herself. "What a way to wake up…"

"Mmm," Willow agreed as Tara's tongue reached out and made contact with her sex, teasing her lips lightly. She held herself in position, her hands clutched around the front beam of the wagon, enjoying Tara's attention immensely but hesitant to overwhelm her in what was, she had to admit, an extremely vulnerable position. Tara substantially banished those doubts when her arms around Willow's thighs tightened, her mouth opened, and she firmly pulled Willow down onto her.

"Oh gods!" Willow gasped, barely able to stop herself from raising her voice to a pitch that would've had the whole campsite awake. "Oh I love you!" Her hips moved of their own accord, rolling her sex back and forth over Tara's lips as her tongue delved inside her. She still worried a little about pressing down too firmly on Tara, but with Tara not just allowing but downright insisting on such a strong contact, Willow began to let herself enjoy the moment, trusting to Tara to let her know if she needed to lift herself.

For Tara's part, she felt as if she was in heaven, with barely a moment since she had woken up, and already her lungs were full of Willow's scent, her mouth full of her taste, and her ears catching every sigh and moan that came from her lips. She felt Willow's thighs on either side of her tremble, and knew that her climax wasn't far away. Unwinding her right arm from around Willow's leg, she moved her lips up a little to her clit, nibbling and sucking with abandon while clearing the way for her finger to find Willow's entrance and slide into her.

Willow's breathing was fast and shallow, her lungs working to the rhythm Tara was setting within her. She let her head fall forward, staring down at Tara's eyes, which glittered with joy. Between Tara's lips on her clit and the thrusts of her finger into her, Willow felt as if she would either come or explode. Her breath caught, her body tensed and her sex tightened as she began to orgasm, and at that moment, on her last thrust, Tara drove two fingers into Willow and hit her sweet spot hard.

Willow threw her head back and opened her mouth in a silent scream of joy, feeling her insides flip over themselves as her climax began. As her sex began to spasm she suddenly needed Tara desperately, and lifted herself off her, kicking blankets out of the way as she moved her hips back to straddle her waist, grinding her wetness onto her stomach as her mouth found Tara's. She kissed Tara intensely, her passion only strengthened by tasting herself on her lover's lips, her tongue delving into Tara's mouth as she coated her waist with her juices.

Tara cuddled Willow and returned her kiss with matching passion, holding her as her body shook and trembled its way through the aftershocks of her climax. Willow's lips became softer, gentler and less insistent as her body relaxed, and finally she trailed downward, kissing down Tara's jaw and finally resting atop her, her lips pressed against her neck.

"A-are you okay?" Tara asked quietly. "That was kind of…" she paused and searched for the word.

"Good," Tara smiled, "I just…I was a bit, um, well, I came on strong a bit there at the end, I know."

"And I loved it," Willow said, pressing kisses to the side of her neck. "I don't think I'm ever going to sleep in again, if this is what happens when I wake up."

"Oh, baby, I loved," Willow enthused. "At first it was a bit, you know, strange to be…well, sitting on your face," she giggled. "But…oh, you make love to me so beautifully…a-and looking down at you, seeing you like that, enjoying me so much…I swear I could've come just from that sight alone." She smiled, then shifted up a little to bring her eyes level with Tara's.

"Me?" Tara smiled, and then adopted her most sensual purr. "The first thing I did this day was to have my beautiful Willow come all over my face…and my stomach…and my leg, if you recall…" She grinned cheekily. "I guess you could say I'm well covered."

"It was exciting, hot…I felt really close to you, really… intimate," Tara said. Willow wrapped her arms tight around Tara and hugged her.

"Yes you have," Tara grinned, "vehemently. I love you too, Willow. I love everything that you are, completely."

"You've got everything that I am," Willow promised, "completely. Ahhh," she sighed.

"I guess," she added after a moment, "one of us is going to have to go out in that rain and get breakfast."

"Yeah, we could probably use a new set," Willow mused, sitting up and reaching for the bag with her traveling clothes. "Oh, hey, how about you put a pan out on the front and catch some rainwater? I've got an itching to run my hands all over you, and a bath seems like a good excuse."

"Since when did you need an excuse?" Tara joked, sitting up as Willow dressed. Willow leaned over to her, cupping her left breast and squeezing firmly while her lips sought out Tara's mouth, opened it, and her tongue dove inside.

"I'm trying to be a modest lady," Willow said with a formal air, and a sly smile tugging the corners of her mouth, belying her claim.

"Because," she explained, pulling on her boots, "probably about half-way through your bath I'm going to be making you all hot and sweaty again, and then I'll have to start over." She winked at Tara and disappeared out of the wagon, leaving Tara to smile after her.

When Willow returned, Tara was leaning out the back, with a cloak over her head to keep dry, attaching a sack full of blankets and other laundry to the outside of the wagon. Willow leaned under her hood and gave her a quick kiss, then gratefully scrambled back into the warmth of the wagon's interior, leaving her waterproof cape on a hook outside.

"What's cooking?" Tara asked, hugging Willow from behind and rubbing her arms, warming her quickly.

"Porridge," Willow said, uncovering the single large bowl she had brought back, releasing warm steam and an enticing aroma.

"Warm indeed," Willow agreed, leaning back into Tara's embrace and tilting her head to smile up at her.

"Eat up, vixen," Tara teased, picking a spoon out of the bowl and offering Willow a spoonful of the hot meal. Willow swallowed obediently, kissed Tara, then sat back and took her own spoon.

"I spoke to Tryptin," she said as they ate, "he said we'll definitely reach Harthim tonight. The north lookout saw that the weather at dawn looked lighter that way, he said. The storm's moving west by the look of it."

"Probably wet," Willow replied. "Shan just got back from checking the ford, he said the river's flowing high, so it's probably raining buckets up near the mountains."

"Yeah," Willow agreed. She glanced at Tara. "Fellow-warrior-type sentiment?" she asked with a half-smile.

"Something like that," Tara replied, an answering smile appearing on her lips. "He seems a good man, he takes his job seriously…No warrior really wants to be out there, alone, let alone soaking wet and miserable," she added with a grin. "We're taught, in training, that sometimes a warrior has to be alone, and when that happens, we recognize the courage it takes, and offer a prayer for her. Or him, in this case. I'll be glad to see him safe and sound when we get to Harthim. So long as we're on this journey together, he's one of us. I guess I've got that from Tryptin, wanting everyone to be safe and happy."

"No, I think you get that from you," Willow said softly. "It's just one of the many, many reasons I feel blessed to be loved by you." She leaned over and kissed Tara, gentle and tender, her lips soft as silk, warm as sunlight.

"All yours," Willow said, "you'll never be alone. That's a promise." Tara opened her eyes and fixed Willow with a brilliant smile.

"Eat up," she said warmly, "I put the pans out on the front seat to fill with water, they're probably about full by now."

In no time both Willow and Tara had polished off the remnants of their breakfast. Tara retrieved two water-filled pans from the driver's seat, holding the canvas flap in the front of the roof above herself to keep from getting wet, then sealing it securely shut to keep the rain out. She lay the pans on the flat, steady surface of one of the small crates lining the front of the wagon, and busied herself finding soap and washcloths from the baggage, while Willow laid out towels to keep the blankets dry.

"You first?" she asked when Tara looked back at her. Tara nodded and reached for the hem of her tunic, only to have Willow's hands beat her there.

"Lie back," Willow whispered, beaming. Her smile warmed Tara immeasurably, assuring her than nothing she could do would make Willow feel so content as to simply lie back and let herself be taken care of. Willow gently pulled Tara's tunic up her body as she lay down, pulling it over her head and off her arms.

"No underwear?" Willow asked slyly, undoing the cord of Tara's skirt to confirm that she was just as naked beneath her clothes below the waist as above.

"Didn't seem any need," Tara smiled, "you, ah, didn't exactly conceal your intentions to have me naked right after breakfast."

"No, I didn't, did I?" Willow mused playfully. "Better make good on those intentions, in that case." She slipped Tara's undone skirt out from underneath her and sat back on her heels to survey her naked lover. Tara, basking in the warmth of her gaze, stretched languorously, slowly reaching out her arms above her head as her legs flexed expansively, toes pointed. Willow bit her lip and leaned down to speak directly to Tara, staring into her eyes.

"You are, without a doubt," she said slowly, "the sexiest creature ever to walk the earth." Tara blinked slowly, a sensuous smile spreading across her face.

"And I'm all yours," she replied. Willow chuckled and kissed her, nibbling on her lower lip. She sat back and surveyed Tara again, her eyes following every curve of her body. She took a washcloth, wet it, and began rubbing soap into Tara's legs, lifting them from the blankets to work underneath them. Tara obediently held her legs up, one then the other, as Willow ran her hands up their length, starting at her toes and rubbing firmly all the way up her calves and thighs. She spent a while longer than was necessary running her hands over Tara's thighs, and the way Tara's breathing caught slightly each time her hands made their way up near her hips was not lost on her. With a smile full of promise she rinsed off Tara's legs and followed with her arms, soaping and rinsing while giving every indication of immense pleasure in touching her.

Tara sighed with delight as Willow, having dutifully soaped her stomach and shoulders, naturally came to her breasts and lingered. Willow took a breast in each hand and massaged steadily, establishing a rhythm where she would squeeze in with her fingertips as she pressed upwards, then stretch her hands flat and press her palms against Tara's nipples as she moved her hands down again. She paused a moment to quickly pull off her tunic and skirt, and straddled Tara clad only in her underwear, her bra slightly tight as she breathed deeply, and her briefs accomplishing nothing in terms of concealing the heated moistness that she settled on Tara's waist. Smiling down at Tara from astride her, she resumed her attentions to her breasts, slow and rhythmic, matching her motions to Tara's breathing.

Tara's nipples were already hard, and she began sighing and lazily tossing her head from side to side as Willow worked steadily on her breasts, massaging her with a determination that offered no respite for Tara to cool off or be distracted by other sensations. She closed her eyes and limited her world to only two sensations: one, Willow's hands on her chest, kneading her breasts in the most exquisite way, and two, the heat of Willow's sex, wet and inviting through the thin film of her underwear, pressed against her waist.

"Oh goddess yes," Tara sighed. Quite involuntarily she began arching her back, pressing herself into Willow's hands, unashamedly conveying the pleasure that Willow's touch was causing her. Willow got quite lost in her fascination with Tara's breasts, the way they moved, their softness, the sensuous way Tara moved when she squeezed them, the lusty way she would let out a long, deep sigh every time Willow rubbed her palms against her nipples. Without realizing it she too began to move, her hips rolling back and forth, her sex pressing against Tara's stomach. She leaned forward, trusting Tara to support some of her weight, and angled her hips back to press her clit against Tara, the barrier of fabric between them inconsequential.

Tara opened her eyes and fixed Willow with a needful gaze. Willow leant further forward, her hands still massaging Tara's breasts as they kissed, and Tara's hands reached down to pull Willow's briefs down her thighs.

"You're so hot," Tara breathed, her lips still close enough to brush Willow's as she spoke. Willow moaned in reply, and Tara put one hand to the back of her head, drawing her into another, more intense kiss, while her other arm went around her waist, pulling Willow's hips back as she raised her thigh. Willow moaned again, louder, into Tara's mouth as she felt the firm contact, the lips of her sex spreading against the top of Tara's thigh as her clit pressed against her hip just above. Tara raised her thigh higher, and Willow, with her underwear still around her thighs keeping her from spreading her legs very far on either side of Tara, instead rested more of her weight on her hips, on Tara, bucking wildly as her clit ground against Tara's skin.

"Oh baby," she moaned as she came, "oh gods, oh gods, oh… gods…Tara…" She kissed Tara again, deeply, then took a shuddering breath and collapsed on top of her, all will to move momentarily abandoning her.

"My beauty," Tara whispered, "my perfect love Willow…" Willow opened her mouth to say something, though she couldn't imagine what, in reply, when she was interrupted by a creak from the front of the wagon, as someone climbed up and settled onto the driver's seat. Willow met Tara's stare, and both giggled like schoolgirls with a shared secret.

"Morning miss Willow," the driver replied through the canvas screen between them. "Morning miss Tara."

"Good morning," Tara called out, glancing up at the canvas. When she looked back at Willow she giggled again, silently. Willow, with some effort, lifted herself up to once again sit across Tara's waist, taking a moment to free her soaked briefs from around her legs. She steadied the pans of water, making sure they wouldn't tip as the wagon lurched gently into motion. Then she made sure she had Tara's full attention, licked her lips, dipped her gaze momentarily downward, and put a finger to her lips.

"Shhh," she advised softly. Tara smiled and nodded. Willow got up on hands and knees, moving slowly and with rhythm deliberately to give Tara a delectable view of her pert breasts swaying beneath her, then settled luxuriously down between Tara's legs, her head pillowed on her right thigh. She reached out with her tongue and gave a long lick to the opposite leg, tasting her own wetness so recently spread there. With long, careful strokes she cleaned her arousal off Tara's skin, making sure she accounted for every trace.

Tara steadfastly resisted the temptation to moan when she saw, and felt, what Willow was doing. 'Licking her own juices off my thigh,' she thought, 'oh goddess she's sexy, I think I'm going to burst!' She bit her lip and endured the pleasurable torment as Willow's tongue slowly worked its way closer and closer to her center, which was adding ample amounts of her own arousal to the bouquet her lover was tasting.

Finally Willow's tongue touched the base of her sex and ran up, the tip nudging between her lips, finally passing over her clit as Willow nuzzled into her dark gold curls. Willow lifted her tongue and returned it to the bottom of Tara's center, repeating her motions again, and again, each long, firm lick following just the same path through her. Tara closed her eyes again, swallowing the urge to moan out loud as Willow patiently, sensually continued to lick at her sex, enjoying her like a gourmet with a fine desert.

Willow grew more bold, pressing her tongue down harder as Tara began to rock her hips in response to her attentions. She braced herself with her arms and moved her head back and forth, Tara's hips moving quite dramatically, both falling into a rhythm in which Tara would lift her hips off the towel beneath her with each stroke of Willow's tongue, as if Willow's caress was lifting her. In a strange, wonderful way Willow felt that Tara was making love back to her, her sex kissing her tongue, enfolding it in warmth with every stroke. She leaned further into Tara, her lips now pressing against her as well, paying closer attention to her clit with every thrust of her tongue. She could feel Tara close to climax, and wanted her orgasm to flow from this contact, this caress she had started, that had so beautifully escalated to the point where Tara was lifting herself up, pressing herself into Willow's mouth, freely offering her arousal, the warmth and wetness of her sex, with the utmost certainty that Willow would accept her, all of her, her warmth into her skin, her juices into her body, the total immersion of her senses into her body, just as freely.

Tara reached down and wound her hands into Willow's hair, holding her against her sex as she finally came. Willow opened her jaw wide, engulfing as much of Tara as she could within the warmth of her mouth, her tongue working up and down furiously, gathering the juices flowing from Tara and stimulating her clit, urging more from her. Tara's mouth opened in a silent exclamation of passion, and for a long moment she was motionless, hips held up in mid-air, Willow pressed against her, perfectly still as her insides roiled and surged with her orgasm. She made not a sound, until all of a sudden she went limp and thudded back to the towel and blankets beneath her, and a tiny sigh escaped her. She let her head fall sideways, to allow her to look down at Willow, who was slowly making her way up her body, her sensual gait on hands and knees, and the supremely satisfied smile on her face both reminiscent of a big cat, content to prowl and bask in the sunlight.

"You're amazing," Tara whispered as Willow lay down on top of her, kissing her chin and neck.

"Oh Willow," Tara sighed, "you're so…oh goddess, there aren't words. I love you."

Willow and Tara's bathing, with its accompanying teasing, touching and kissing, ended up taking much of the morning. With the rain keeping up a steady downpour outside, easing compared to the day before but still far more than would be enjoyable, even in a heavy cloak and hood, both then settled into the confines of the wagon for the day. Willow leafed through Ember's journal some more, finding a rough map of the area they were in, which Tara compared to what she remembered of Kert's map. While searching through Willow's satchels after lunch for a more detailed chart, which Willow was sure was in there somewhere, Tara came across a small set of pipes.

"Yep," Willow confirmed with a glance. "My artistic side. I'm not that good, but I can carry a tune. Better than I sing, anyway."

"Would you?" Tara asked, offering the pipes to Willow, who accepted them with a hesitant smile.

"I might be a bit out of practice," she cautioned as she crossed her legs and raised the pipes to her lips. She blew a couple of random notes, bringing the tones of the instrument back to her mind, then smiled at Tara and sounded the first three notes of a scale, pure and gentle.

"Do re mi," Tara sang in reply. Willow smiled wider, then repeated her three notes, which Tara again echoed. Willow improvised a quick melody.

"Do re mi, do re mi, fa, mi, re," Tara followed. Willow repeated it again, then kept going as Tara followed her in time, two bars behind and harmonizing perfectly. Willow let herself flow through the music, as she had occasionally used to do when the mood took her, now delighted to find this new way of bringing a smile to Tara's lips. She felt too a wonderful sense of contentment at her music joining with Tara's, the two of them creating something beautiful together, and it was with no small regret that she finally drew their melody to a close, scaling back to the simple sequence of notes that she began with.

"Maybe," Tara said, "you never know. I didn't try singing until I was fifteen, until then I had no idea I'd enjoy it, or be any good. How would you like to try a duet some time?"

The caravan was within sight of the torchlights of Harthim when the sun set, and with their forward scout letting the townsfolk know they were on their way, and thus to keep the gates open, they entered the town just as evening was setting in. As it turned out the only inn was too small to accommodate more than a handful of the caravan's passengers, so Willow and Tara, along with the Amazons and most of the Duncraig ambassadors, stayed in their wagons.

"No great loss," Willow proclaimed ruefully, returning after fetching a hot dinner from the kitchen. "I had a peek in one of the rooms, the beds are tiny and they look kind of draughty." Tara shrugged and gratefully accepted a vegetable stew Willow had scavenged before the inn's cook had tipped in any bits of rabbit, which most of the other travelers were having. They sat down to eat outside their wagon, the caravan's wagons having been parked underneath a wide wooden shelter, somewhat like a barn, that served to keep the rain off the carts and baggage of visiting travelers.

"I was thinking," Willow said as they ate, "I might stitch an extra layer into my book pouch. Keep Ember's journal on hand, as well as our journal. What do you think?"

"Good idea," Tara agreed. "I was having a look through it this afternoon. She's certainly seen a lot of interesting things."

"Yeah, she used to be quite the traveler," Willow said. "She got a bit of a reputation as an adventurer in the Order. Some of the students said she only accepted the sponsor's position in the city because she'd run out of new places to explore."

"Oh, gods, where do I begin?" Willow replied. "She's…she has this sort of manner about her, it's like she knows everything. She doesn't go around spouting off knowledge like a walking library or anything, just… whatever's going on, or whatever's being talked about, no matter what it is, she's got this little smile, like she knows it already. She's kind of fun to be around, a lot more than most of the tutors anyway. Once she accepted me as her apprentice she'd take me all sorts of places, like the Zakarum city, and the villages far up the Argentek River - nothing to do with sorcery training, but she never explained her methods, just smiled and said 'it'll be fun'. I learned a whole lot without even realizing I was learning anything."

"Oh, yeah," Willow agreed, "the best. Earlier, when we were all learning together, it was all about the theory of magic, how spells are formed, practicing until we got it right…you know, the first three months I was with Ember, she never even tested me with spells? She'd just ask talk with me, about all sorts of things, like history and wildlife, and how the clouds moved, and what different kinds of rocks looked like…and, the funny thing, it wasn't just her telling me things, I'd always end up talking just as much as she did, and she'd always listen to me, like she was really interested, and never give me any indication I was babbling too much, or that she wanted me to keep quiet and learn."

"Not exactly," Willow said, "it's pretty common for a sponsor and her apprentice to become good friends - I mean, you spend a fair chunk of your life as a trainee with them, I guess you either love 'em or hate 'em, and sponsors are always the love 'em kind. That's sort of a trainee joke," Willow chuckled, "we said that all the nice sorceresses become sponsors, and the ones that turn into crabby old bats become councilors. We never saw much of the sorceresses who actually run the Order, they were just these silent, stern-looking women who'd come by the training halls occasionally when we were practicing and glare at us as if we weren't trying hard enough. Anyway…but yeah, Ember was pretty special as a sponsor. She was a bit like a mother, and a bit like a sister - sometimes I'd go to her for help about one thing or another, and she'd listen to me and give me advice, and it was like she was older and wiser, and I was this young thing listening to her wisdom. In a good way, I mean, it was comforting…she could be someone I'd look up to. And then other times we'd be talking and laughing and, it was like we were on the same level. She's about forty, but she could seem so young. And yeah, some of the other girls were a bit jealous of me, getting her as my sponsor…they'd have to practice creating fireballs and chain lightnings and stuff, and I'd be practicing by making snowmen out of water, or we'd make little birds out of ice and fly them around the cloisters."

Willow's anecdotes about her training kept Tara entertained until both their plates were empty, and she offered to take them back into the inn. When she returned Tara was still outside the wagon, arms crossed, staring uneasily out across the town's main square. The gates on the other side, only their covered torches plainly visible through the rain, were closed. Tara could just make out a handful of figures moving slowly back and forth.

"Kert hasn't come in yet," Tara said quietly. "Shan just went out to go up into the tower and see if he can see him. Not much chance, in this weather."

"He's probably just running late," Willow said, "what with the heavy rain out to the west…" She put an arm around Tara's shoulders, and together they stood silently for a while, watching as Shan returned from the gate, shaking off his wet cloak once he reached the shelter of the wagon enclosure. He spoke with a young sergeant, Kert's second-in-command, then paced restlessly back and forth as the sergeant made his way towards the town sheriff's office.

Without any conscious intent, a small group of people formed near the wagons, sitting on stools around the warmth of a fire that had been started, staring silently into the flames, and occasionally glancing up at the closed gates, barely visible in the gloom across the square. Shan checked the view from the watchtower again, before giving up and returning to his pacing. Tryptin sat by the fire, staring off into the night. Gerrid drifted out from the inn to join them, his restless manner clearly showing his unease. Kert's sergeant, Grant, joined them, staring into the fire for the most part, every once in a while stoking it idly with a stick, or fetching a new log to keep it going against the night's cold. Melcan appeared with some drink, and bread still hot from the kitchen's oven, which was eaten in silence. Tryptin asked idly a while later if Tara had brought a Command set, and played a game against her, with Willow, Shan and Grant watching, though always glancing over their shoulder every now and then.

A short while later Gerrid asked if there was any chance of going out to look for Kert, but Grant said quietly that, between the dark and the rain, they might ride right past him without knowing, and carrying open flames ran the risk of attracting any animals prowling the night. A long silence fell, during which Gerrid stood at the edge of the enclosure, his cape keeping off the occasional gust of wind that blew some rain in, and Willow and Tara sat together on the tailboard of their wagon, close enough to have a view of the square but well out of the rain, both huddled in a blanket around their shoulders.

"Just…being you," Tara said, glancing at Willow with the ghost of a smile. "Sitting up with me, without question, just because a soldier neither of us really knows is out there somewhere."

"I'm worried too," Willow said softly. "And hey, it's not like I could just leave you and go to sleep inside. You're here, so I'm here, and that's how it is. Wouldn't have it any other way." She gave Tara's shoulders a squeeze, getting a smile out of her, then with her free hand took Tara's, and rested her head on her shoulder, staring out with her into the night.

"When I was old enough," Tara said quietly, "Eponin told me about my parents. So I'd know what they died for, so I could sit memorial properly for them. I wasn't born on the islands, it was on the mainland. My mother and father were living in a town not far from the coast. There was still a lot of unrest, because of the Reckoning. Evil creatures, packs of demons and monsters, all through the mainland jungles. Not long after I was born a huge wave of them came down out of the mountains and swept through the jungle. My parents brought all the people from the town to the shore, got them onto boats, including me, and then they went back. My mother was a warrior, and my father was very strong, and very brave. Once I was safe they went back, them and two other Amazons, my aunt and another woman, to bring more people out, to get them from the villages around the town to the boats.

"All through the night the boats waited, and every now and then a group of people would reach the dock and board, and they'd tell the master of the boats that the Amazons were still out there, making it safe for more people to reach the road to the shore. They kept waiting as long as they could, even when they could see the jungle on fire on the horizon, this glow in the night sky. But then no more people came, and just before dawn creatures started coming from the edge of the jungle, trying to get across the docks and onto the boats. They fought them off for as long as they could, with longbows and crossbows, shooting them down as they tried to get across the dock, just…trying to wait one moment longer. But eventually there were too many, and the boats had to leave.

"And that was it," she finished. "They sailed to the islands, and I was taken in by Eponin's family." She shrugged, and Willow hugged her tighter.

"It's alright," Willow said, with absolute conviction. Tara nodded her thanks, and hugged Willow in return.

"Two hundred and thirty-seven people were on the boats," she said after a moment. "Ninety-two of them arrived after the first group, when the town was evacuated. Every year, I sit memorial for my parents. My aunt and her friend, too, but they have other loved ones who sit memorial for them. It's not a ceremony or anything, just on the day they gave their lives to save those people, I sit for a moment and remember what they did, and remind myself that I'm proud of them. Is it after midnight, do you think?"

"Definitely," Willow said, "at least an hour." Tara nodded, and gazed up at the sky, such as was visible through the rain.

"Mom, dad," she whispered, "thanks. I'm proud to be your daughter." She sniffed quietly, and Willow saw a single tear fall down her cheek. She reached up and tenderly brushed it away before resting her head back on Tara's shoulder.

"I love you too," Willow replied. They both looked up as a shout echoed across the square from the gate. Gerrid hurried out into the rain with Grant, while Tryptin and Shan stood at the edge of the enclosure and watched. The town gates swung open a little way, enough to admit a man on horseback before they were closed again. Willow and Tara both recognized it as Kert, from his clothes and the gear on his horse, before he got under the shelter of the enclosure and dismounted, casting off his rain-soaked cloak. Gerrid was at his side talking quickly, while Grant followed a few paces behind him, waiting for orders. He spoke to Tryptin and Shan briefly before heading towards the inn, but as he went he caught sight of Willow and Tara sitting outside their wagon, and inclined his head with a brief smile. Tara nodded in return, and then he was gone, headed towards the warmth of the inn's kitchen, and Willow was stretching her legs off the tailboard.

"Come on," Tara said sleepily, "let's go to bed." She and Willow climbed into their wagon, undressed, and burrowed together underneath their blankets, quickly warming each other and their bed against the chill of the night. Willow snuggled back into Tara, and Tara stretched and curled herself around Willow, enfolding her in her embrace.

Willow poked her head through the flap in the wagon's rear and squinted in the sunlight, still rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

"Sorry to wake you," Tryptin said, standing outside and looking none too rested himself, "breakfast. We're setting off in half an hour or so, but we'll be stopping for lunch today."

"Thanks," Willow said, accepting the covered dish and flask Tryptin offered. He left, and she ducked back inside, putting the food and drink aside for the moment on top of one of the crates.

"Breakfast," Willow said sleepily, crawling back under with her. She rolled over and nestled her back up against Tara, smiling and wriggling gently as Tara's arms went around her and pulled her close, her palms pressing into her stomach and waist.

"No need just yet," Willow replied, "it'll keep a few minutes…and I don't know about you, but I don't really want to move just now."

"Feels nice," she murmured, "I love the way you hold me… makes me feel safe…warm all over…"

"All over?" Tara asked silkily. "Or anywhere in particular?" One of her hands strayed up towards Willow's chest, while the other remained tight around her waist.

"And why wouldn't I," Tara countered, "when my sexy sorceress snuggles up against me…mmm…your legs are trembling…are you cold?" Tara whispered, right into Willow's ear, "I should keep you warm…" She slid her leg over the top of Willow's, pressing her thigh down on her legs and rubbing her calf against Willow's shins. The shudders running through her body had nothing to do with cold.

"Oh yes," Willow said, "I love them…strong and curvy…and soft…can't get enough of them…" Tara grinned and pulled her thigh up close to her chest, her leg draping over Willow's waist.

"There's that Amazon flexibility, too," Willow said appreciatively as she leaned down to kiss Tara's knee, both her hands running up and down her calf and back over her thigh, squeezing her muscles fondly. She laughed quietly to herself.

"Oh, just thinking," Willow replied vaguely. "A couple of weeks ago I was sitting in this very wagon thinking that I'd have nothing to do on this trip except read…and now here I am, with the most perfectly beautiful woman in the world…quite literally wrapped around me," she added with a grin over her shoulder at Tara, "and feeling like I'm in paradise every moment."

"Well, two weeks, two-and-a-half days," Willow clarified. "It does, doesn't it? I can think back to when I was in Kurast and it doesn't seem so long ago, but when I think about being without you…it seems like it's someone else's life I'm thinking of." She took hold of Tara's hand, which was hovering around the bottom of her breasts, and brought it to her lips, kissing the palm tenderly.

"I love you," she whispered, and Tara saw there were tears in her eyes. "I love you so much, I don't want to ever be without you…"

"You never will," Tara promised. "I swear to you Willow, on my honor as an Amazon, I will love you always." She stroked Willow's cheek affectionately. "You got me, and you're stuck with me," she added with a grin. Willow glanced over her shoulder, her yearning expression giving way to a smile which became a full-bodied laugh.

"Funny," Willow said, "from where I am, it looks like you've got me." Tara gave Willow's waist a squeeze.

"I have indeed," she said in a low murmur, "but the question is…what am I going to do with you?"

"The one that says I'm about to get ravished," Willow gasped, as Tara's hands both reached for her breasts, fitting around them perfectly.

"Very observant of you," Tara whispered in her ear, as Willow moaned and writhed gently in her grip. "You like this, my sweet Willow?" she purred.

"I know how much you like touching my breasts," Tara went on, squeezing Willow and rubbing her nipples between her fingers. "How you love feeling them…soft and warm in your hands…but it's my turn now…how does it make you feel, Willow? Tell me."

"And…?" Tara prompted, gently giving Willow's nipples a particularly arousing pinch.

"I…I want you, soooo…much…" Willow managed between moans. "A-all the…time…but when you…touch me…oh…gods…it's too much, I can't…stop myself…I just want you, a-and…oh…need you…"

"I would," Tara said, "but I like where my hands are now… and I think you do too?" Willow moaned in response, as Tara flexed her fingers.

"Touch yourself, Willow," Tara breathed, "just…softly… and slowly. That's right," she urged, as Willow's hands crept tentatively down her body, "yes…just touch your lips…good…" Willow gasped involuntarily as she felt her own sex. Somehow, it was very, very much more than all the times she had touched herself before.

"Because I'm touching you," Tara replied softly, "it's not you doing this…I'm the one who decides that your fingertips are going to part your lips…aren't they?"

"Oh yes," Willow said, her hands complying without her even having to think about it.

"If I tell you to," Tara murmured, her tongue darting out to tease Willow's ear, "you'll keep yourself on the edge forever…aching, needing…until I let you come."

"Move your fingers," Tara instructed, "up and down… gently…that's it…feel how wet you are. You're very wet, aren't you Willow? So very wet…and so desperate for release…that it would just take a touch, in the right place. Isn't that right?"

"Oh gods," Willow sighed, her fingers teasing her, completely beyond her conscious control. She felt as though they were truly Tara's hands on her sex, Tara's fingers stroking through her wetness. All the while, Tara was cupping her breasts, squeezing and stimulating, sending little shivers through her each time her fingertips closed on Willow's nipples and gently tugged them.

"Yes," Tara whispered, "just a touch…but not yet. First, let me taste you…" Willow brought a trembling hand to Tara's waiting mouth, her eyes following it in fascination all the way. Tara closed her lips around the offered fingers and stared at Willow as she sucked the juices from them.

"Divine," she whispered at last, releasing Willow's hand. "I think you're ready. Do you want me to make you come, my sweet Willow?"

"Oh, yes," Tara purred, "you're definitely ready…touch yourself for me, Willow…part your lips…tease yourself…just the tips of your fingers…"

"Yes," Tara smiled, delighted at how Willow was becoming absorbed in their play, "my fingers…teasing you…giving you just enough to whet your appetite…to wet your sex…you want more, don't you? You want me to go deep inside you…get ready, Willow…it's close now. Get ready…" Tara was breathing heavily, as Willow writhed in her embrace, every inch of their bodies pressed together and moving.

"Now," Tara breathed. Willow jolted almost out of her grasp as she plunged her two fingers into herself, her climax starting the instant her fingers reached their depth and her palm flattened against her clit. Tara held on tight, moaning as her own body responded to the way Willow thrust her hips, worked her legs, forced her breasts into Tara's hands, and tossed her head back, eyes closed, mouth open, gasping with release. She kissed along the back of Willow's neck, licked her earlobe, nuzzled into her hair, anything to convey her love as Willow slowly relaxed and settled back, almost entirely lying on top of her.

"I'm not sure how much credit I can take," Tara murmured, as Willow slowly rolled over to face her.

"Well," Tara pointed out, "it wasn't my hands…apart from up here," she added, tickling the sides of Willow's breasts, pressed against her, before wrapping her arms around Willow's back and hugging her.

"I know," Willow grinned, "but then again, it kind of was, wasn't it? I mean, you told me what to do, a-and you know, I really felt as though it was you touching me, because…it's so much more, when it's you. Heh," she chuckled, "I don't think I'll ever be able to be satisfied masturbating again."

"Are you sure?" Tara said with a smile. "Even if I was there, and telling you how unbelievably aroused I was getting from watching you?"

"Oh, well," Willow conceded, wide-eyed, "that's different, of course…Gods, are all Amazon warriors as sexy as you?"

"I don't know," Tara said with a straight face, "maybe you could try some others sometime and find out?"

"Nah," Willow countered with a knowing smile, "why would I waste time even looking at anyone else when I've got you?"

"They're such cute toes," Tara mused. Willow rolled off to lie beside her, stretching expansively.

"You could tempt me in your sleep," Tara replied, touching the tip of her nose to Willow's, which made her giggle as she sat up and reached for their meal. "What've we got?"

"Omelet," Willow said, lifting the cover off the dish, "not quite piping hot, of course…"

"Doesn't matter," Tara replied, sitting up, "I think the delay was well worth it."

"Absolutely," Willow concurred, passing Tara a robe and pulling her own around her shoulders to keep warm. Tara handed her a pair of lacquered wooden plates and mugs from her baggage and Willow divided up breakfast and poured Tara some fruit juice. As they were eating they heard Shan outside calling the caravan to order, and their wagon lurched into motion.

"Yeah," Willow smiled, "what with one thing and another…who knows, maybe we'll come back this way some day? See what the place has to offer. Sorceresses are kind of expected to travel wherever they want, and Ember was definitely a mentor along those lines."

"Heh," Tara chuckled, then grew speculative. "I thought this journey was a special assignment?"

"It is," Willow explained, "but in any case, if I'd concluded my apprenticeship the normal way, the next stage would be to just up and travel for four years. You know, see the world, find out where we belong…I guess I got a head-start on that," she added with a wink at Tara, who blew her a kiss.

"And sometime during that four years, you work out what you want to do, and settle down to do it?" she asked.

"That's the idea," Willow agreed. "It wasn't always that way, of course…I mean, up until the end of the Reckoning, the life goal of a sorceress was to refine her battle magics as much as possible, and then pass on that skill to the next generation of sorceresses. Ever since the Order was established we've had Oracles who could see parts of the future. It's something that happens, very rarely, to lightning sorceresses. They can learn to sense the part of their energy that exists outside time, that sort of…powers time, moves it forward, from the outside. I'm not really sure how to explain it… well, no-one is, except the Oracles themselves. They tune their sight to that energy, instead of seeing the normal world – they're blind, always, once they become Oracles – and they can see things to come."

"Priestesses of Zerae sometimes get visions of the future," Tara said, "but nothing that specific. They're always…symbols, and feelings. They write them down, and then spend most of their time trying to work out what they mean. But I've heard people say that they're blind while they're having visions. It doesn't last, though, they can see again when it's over."

"It might be similar," Willow mused, "Zerae's your lightning goddess, so she would understand its power…perhaps she grants it to the priestesses briefly, when it's important. Oracles are tuned to timeless energy permanently, and lose their sight forever. I guess it's a sacrifice they're willing to make…not that it's crippling to them, of course, but…well, it must be a tough decision. How did I get onto Oracles?" she wondered aloud.

"That was it. Yeah, ever since the Order was established, the Oracles we've had predicted that the Prime Evils would rise again, even though everyone thought they'd been defeated once and for all in the Sin War. They called it the Time of Emergence, because it would be the emergence of evil, and the time when we – sorceresses – would come out of hiding and fight the Prime Evils. Until then we'd always stayed remote, traveled in secret, and just about no-one in the outside world knew we existed as an order. So whatever servants the Evils had wouldn't know about us until we were ready to fight them."

"We're still working that out," Willow said, "mostly by following the Vizjerei methods. They're the closest of the other clans to us, most of the other clans sort of flipped a bit when we showed up during the Reckoning. They weren't sure what to make of us, and I guess we scared them a bit – well, the whole world was under threat from hell, and suddenly these women no-one's ever heard of show up, hurling meteors around, freezing whole tribes of demons in one blast, casting lightning strong enough to break open a boulder like it's nothing. It was probably a bit of a shock to them…um, no pun intended," she added as Tara rolled her eyes. "Anyway, during the Reckoning a lot of sorceresses ended up fighting alongside the Vizjerei, and when it was all over, I guess they reported back to their masters, and their clan accepted us pretty easily, when the others were still wary of us. And we adopted a lot of their ways, now that the Emergence was all over and done. I mean, there was no point anymore in secluding ourselves and training for a battle that's already finished and won, so we had to figure out how we were going to fit into the rest of the world."

"Often," Willow agreed, "the Vizjerei are really the only clan to pay much attention to the Western Kingdoms and send their mages here, but there's never enough of them to go around, so there's lots of courts and rulers who want a mage on hand. A lot of the older sorceresses, those who haven't stayed with the Order as teachers or administrators, have settled down at courts all over Khanduras and Entsteig. Not so much Westmarch yet, seeing as it's the furthest away from Kurast, so, hey, I guess I'm one of the pioneers." She grinned.

"Well, it goes without saying that I'm not settling down anywhere you're not happy being," Willow replied, earning an adoring smile from Tara. "There's a lot of other options, especially now that we're not just concentrating on battle magics. For generations the Order's goal was to be the best battle mages in history, so we perfected our control of the elements pretty much always with a view to using them to blow demons right back to hell. But elemental magic is much more than just firepower…or ice-power, or lightning-power or whatever. We've got the skill, the talent to wield massive amounts of elemental magic, now we're learning how much we can do with it. Apart from blowing things up. Lightning mages, even if they're not Oracles, can develop prescience and clairvoyance, plus there's telekinesis – that used to be just a battle skill, but now they're training to use it in all sorts of ways. Elemental fire has a lot of healing properties, not just battlefield stuff, but against diseases and so on. That's why we established the presence at the Hospice in Entsteig, to develop those skills, as well as make use of the library." She shrugged ruefully. "They've probably finished rebuilding it by now," she added. "And a talented cold mage can do all sorts of things besides just shielding herself and tossing icicles around. They say lightning is the most versatile element, but cold actually has a whole load of secondary effects that you can work with. Condensation, for example, drawing water out of the air – I could make it rain, as if we didn't have enough rain already. But anyway, there's all sorts of applications for our magic, and of course there's all the magical theory we know, aside from just elemental magic. Some sorceresses travel with big caravans, as advisors, or work with architects on construction. That dock we saw back at Kingsport, that was probably built with a Vizjerei mage's help, but a sorceress could do the same thing. Or just travel around researching magic and sending reports back to the Order every now and then. Lots of options."

"You know, a while ago I didn't really think about it," Willow said with a grin, "but just lately, I've been thinking…after we're done traveling, of course, do you suppose the Amazon Nation could do with a resident sorceress?" Tara smiled, then leaned over and kissed Willow lightly on the lips.

"If that's what you want," she said softly, "I have it on very good authority that you'll get the highest recommendation."

"You're welcome, my love," Tara replied. "Besides, it's not just a matter of me doing anything to see that you're happy. You're a brilliant mage, you've got a wonderful mind, and I think the Queen's court would find you invaluable."

"Aw," Willow blushed, "now you're making me shy…Queen, huh? So I'm going to be a court mage after all. And among the Amazons, no less! Gods, the girls who trained with me are going to be so jealous. Especially if we ever meet any of them and they get a look at you," she added with a sly grin.

"Flattery will get you…well, kissed and cuddled as soon as we finish breakfast," Tara admitted with a smile. "You'd really like to live on the islands? It's a long way from your home…you know you don' t have to just for my sake."

"There's plenty I'd do just for your sake," Willow countered, "but I've thought about it seriously, aside from that. The way you talk about it, the way you get that ‘this is my home' smile…I know you want to go back there one day. And I can't think of anywhere I'd rather go. I never saw myself settling down with the Order, so…yes, it's really what I want. When you go home, I'll be at your side, and it'll be my home too."

"Come here, my love." Tara pushed her plate aside, and as Willow came within reach she enfolded her in a warm, tender embrace and kissed her.

Tara looked around curiously as, outside, the order to halt was called down the length of the caravan, and their wagon slowed.

"Oh, I forgot," Willow said, "Tryptin mentioned we'd stop for lunch. I guess the road's safer from here on."

"Probably," Tara shrugged, "we're in Duncraig realm now, it's likely that bandits would prefer to work beyond the borders rather than within them. I don't know about these Carvers, though."

"They probably go wherever it seems most lawless," Willow mused, "they're dangerous to travelers, but a trained army would wipe them out pretty quickly. The ones that are left are probably the ones that preferred remote areas, even if they are less traveled than the roads within the larger realms."

"Well, whatever the reason, it's just as well," Tara said with a lop-sided grin, "the rain's stopped, I could use a bathroom break."

"You're not the only one," Willow replied, "chalk up one big disadvantage to living in a wagon. I'll go see what's for lunch first, meet you back here?"

Willow gave Tara a quick kiss as they both jumped down to the ground, then they went their separate ways, Willow towards the supply wagon to see what was on offer. When she arrived, Kert and Tryptin were already there, in conversation.

"…probably a good choice," Kert was saying, "the roads were in a sorry state, especially from the crossroads up to the mountains. Hello, Miss Willow."

"One band, far off on the first day. I rode around the back of them, but I think they were watching the road. Didn't seem to be too many of them, but in that rain, who knows? There may have been others. The ones I saw were small, rags for clothes – probably those Carvers you spoke of?" he asked Willow.

"All in all, best we avoided the mountains," Kert went on. "When I spoke with Master Gerrid last night, he said he'd have a word with the Duke about improving the roads up to Jesram. Maybe some soldiers, too, to see if they can't get rid of these creatures for good…" His voice faded away as Willow returned, parcels of food in hand, to the wagon, just in time to meet Tara returning from the edge of the forest across the road.

"My turn," Willow said, handing Tara the parcels. By the time she got back, Tara had unpacked them and was sitting on the tailboard of the wagon, just about to bite into a bread roll filled with cheese and tomato slices. She handed another to Willow before starting, and Willow relayed to her what Kert had been saying.

"Sounds like he's right," Tara said, "seeing as he wasn't in danger, it was best we didn't all take the detour. Even if the Carvers weren't around in great numbers, they could've caused some damage if they surprised us, especially in bad weather, and with the wagons moving slowly."

"All's well then," Willow concurred as they ate happily, enjoying the sunny calm the break in the rain was allowing.

"It's your turn," she said to Tara after a moment, "I've told you what I'm looking forward to, after all our travels are over and done with. So what's the most beautiful woman in the whole world going to be doing in five years' time?" Tara grinned at her.

"You'll be lying on a bed, with soft silk sheets," she purred, "writhing and moaning as I make love to you."

"And what I'll be moaning is how much I love you," Willow grinned. Tara smiled and bit her lip lightly, which was too adorable for Willow to resist leaning across and kissing her, brushing the tip of her tongue lightly across Tara's lips for an instant.

"Seriously," she said, "once we go home, to the Amazon Isles, what do you see yourself doing?" Tara smiled at Willow then leaned back, gazing thoughtfully into the sky.

"I occasionally wondered what I'd do, if I didn't join a warrior pride," she said. "I think perhaps, I'd become a priestess."

"There isn't a vow of celibacy attached to that, is there?" Willow asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Not in the slightest," Tara grinned. "I think…five years? I think I'll be a priestess…a priestess of Athulua. I've always felt closest to her. Apart from the priests and priestesses who maintain her temple in Tran Athulua, and the smaller temples in the other cities, her devotees live among the people. They…well, they listen to people, listen to their problems and worries, and try to help them, to give them good advice and guidance."

"Yeah," Willow agreed, "I can picture that. You're the most compassionate person I could imagine." Tara smiled her thanks.

"When I was a child," she went on, "sometimes I'd stay with Jenavria, Eponin's eldest daughter, when Eponin had to travel to one of the other cities. Before she married her husband, she lived in a little house on the eastern edge of the city…it's right up against the edge of the lakes, and it's the only place where Tran Athulua comes right down to ground level. The house is empty now, but still in Eponin's family…I'd like to live there with you. We'll get an architect and some builders and expand it into a proper home for both of us."

"I know," Tara agreed, "it's a lot to think about…and I know we're still newly in love, and we'll come to know each other a lot better as we travel. But I know at the end of it, we'll be in love just as much as now, if not more. I've never been more certain of anything in my life."

"I…" Willow started, "I…I can't think of anything to say but I love you, a-and I wish I could, I wish I knew some way to, to tell you what I'm feeling, because it's so wonderful…"

"You don't have to say anything," Tara replied with a smile, "I know. I…every time I look at you, or touch you, or even think of you, I know."

The caravan got underway again soon, and Willow and Tara passed the time leisurely as the train of wagons ambled along the road towards the night's camp site. Tara unpacked her bow, and Willow's, and both spent some time working bramble oil into the wood, talking aimlessly about sorceresses and Amazons, and all the things they might one day see and do. There was just enough light, when the caravan halted, for them to bathe quickly in a nearby stream. With a rock wall some twenty feet high on one side of the stream, and a clump of trees on the other, they were secluded enough from the activity of the caravan, within easy earshot if they had some reason to call out, but with enough privacy that, after a glance over her shoulder to confirm that no-one else could see, Tara slipped her robe off her shoulders and strode naked into the stream.

"Join me?" she asked in a low voice. Willow, eyes riveted on Tara, quickly divested herself of her own robe and stood in front of Tara, her arms around her waist.

"No-one will," Tara replied with a serene smile, "they know we're here, and they won't risk offending the ladies by coming to the stream until we're done. I think we can afford a moment or two for…whatever we want." Her smile turned seductive, and Willow grinned in reply.

"So…" she murmured, "what do you want?" Her hands moved down Tara's back, cupping her bottom and squeezing playfully.

"Well then," Willow grinned, "how can I refuse?" Tara draped her arms over Willow's shoulders, leaving her body quite unprotected as Willow wrapped one arm around her waist, and her other hand traces a path around her hips towards her center.

"Yes," Tara moaned as Willow's fingers brushed through her curls, "yes…just you and me…nothing else in the world." Willow kissed her deeply, as her fingertips touched her wetness, and poised themselves at the entrance to her sex.

"I love you, my Tara," Willow whispered in reply, as she gently thrust two fingers into her, catching her lips in a kiss as Tara's hips shuddered down against her hand, and her eyes fluttered closed in bliss. She knew they couldn't afford to spend too much time indulging their desires, in the middle of the countryside no less. Her thumb stroked across Tara's clit, not quite pressing as hard as she might, but nonetheless urging her towards a climax that would not be long coming. Her fingers inside Tara's warmth found the special spot that made her moan and quiver, and touched it with every thrust. At the last, Willow buried her fingers in her lover's sex, her fingertips stroking back and forth as her thumb worked on her clit, and she held Tara's waist in a firm hug, their bodies pressed tightly together, as she moaned with her orgasm. A second later Tara's mouth found hers, and they kissed for a long, long moment, both completely open to the other's advances, as their tongues danced in the blissful aftermath of their greater pleasures.

Afterwards, neither of them said anything – Tara's sensual smile, and Willow's gleeful grin, spoke all the words they needed. They quickly washed and retrieved their robes from the edge of the stream, and, with matching grins of a shared moment away from the rest of the world, returned to their wagon for dinner.

Later, naked and cocooned in warm blankets and the warmer contentment of each other's arms, Willow lay beside Tara, one arm around her waist, her head cushioned on her chest. Tara looked down at Willow's adoring gaze, and stroked her hair gently.

"In five years," she said quietly, "the sunlight will come streaming in through the windows of our bedroom, and we'll wake up, with you cuddled in my arms, like this." She rolled onto her side, and Willow nestled up against her, smiling blissfully as Tara's arm went around her, holding her.

"We'll wake up," Tara went on, kissing Willow's hair lightly, "and I'll kiss you, and tell you how much I love you, every single day. We'll get up and go out to the lake, which will be right up next to the house, and we'll bathe and play in the morning light. We'll dry each other off and have breakfast, and then you'll go off to the Queen's court to meet whoever you're meeting that day, or to study in one of the libraries. I'll have a place near the palace where people can find me if they need my help, so at lunch I'll come and meet you, and we'll eat in the gardens, and laugh and I'll stroke your hair like this, and…well, there are a few spots in the palace gardens that are pretty secluded," she said with a grin, teasingly licking Willow's earlobe.

"Once we're done having lunch, of whatever we get up to, you'll go back to the court, and I'll go back to being a priestess, and in the afternoon we'll meet up again, and go to the market, or take a walk in the forest below, or meet some friends. We'll go back home in time to watch the sunset, lying together in a chair on the balcony. Then I'll help out while you cook a delicious dinner, and we'll eat in front of a great big fire in the hearth. And then, we'll go to bed, and make love, and eventually we'll fall asleep, cuddled together. And I'll thank all the heavens that my time in this world is spent with such a goddess as you." Tara kissed Willow on the back of her neck, then frowned as she heard Willow stifle a sob.

"I'm-" Willow choked back. She rolled over, and Tara saw, through the tears on her cheeks, the most beautiful smile she had ever seen.

"That's so beautiful," she tried again, "I…gods, how could I deserve something so wonderful?"

"Then trust me to know that you deserve every happiness I can give you," Tara said. Willow nodded, and smiled up at Tara.

"I do," she said, "I don't know how, but I do…oh gods, Tara, you are…the most beautiful, lovely, wonderful, heavenly, divine…I love you. I love you, I love you I love you I love you…"

"And I love you," Tara whispered, "with all my heart, with everything that I am and everything I will ever be. I love you, Willow. And we'll have our home together one day."

Tara awoke to Willow kissing her, the tip of her tongue gently brushing her lips. Her first thought was to respond in kind, and she did, opening her mouth and accepting Willow's kiss with a playful swirl of her own tongue. Even when she remembered with a twinge of disappointment where they were, she had to admit it was one of the best ways to wake up she could think of. Certainly the only viable one to use in the middle of potentially hostile territory.

"Morning, love," she mumbled, stretching briefly then wriggling out of her bedroll. Willow gave her another kiss, just a quick one, then together they set about rolling up the sleeping bag and blankets so they would fit back into Tara's pack. She noticed Willow seemed ill at ease, speaking little, her face slipping into the beginnings of a frown now and then, when she seemed not to be concentrating. Whenever she saw Tara glance at her, she favored her with a warm smile, and Tara put it down to anxiety over their uncertain path back to safety. She wondered briefly whether to try to talk to Willow about it, pondering a few ways of bringing the subject up, and trying to ease her concerns, but ultimately decided that it could wait at least until they had got a start on the day's journey. Already the sun, which had been a mere glow on the horizon when Tara had awoken, was high enough to cast real daylight across the land.

As it turned out, finding a way to approach the topic proved unnecessary. As soon as Tara had taken their bearings and decided on a path to follow, Willow, walking by her side and carrying the three quivers of arrows slung over her shoulder so as to spread the load of their possessions, began to lay out her concerns.

"I was thinking, during the night," she explained, "you know, about the demons, and everything that happened. I'm not sure…I mean, I could be imagining things, well, I really hope I am, actually, but I don't think so, and anyway, you should know, because it affects you too, you being out here with me and all-"

"Willow?" Tara prompted gently, smiling despite herself at Willow's nervous babble.

"Right," Willow grinned sheepishly, "concise, got it. Okay, the thing is…I think maybe they were after us. Well, me. Specifically me." Tara stopped in her tracks and turned to Willow, who shrugged with a helpless half-grin and took her hand, nodding ahead to indicate they should keep moving.

"W-why do you think that?" Tara asked, as they continued on their way. Even as she asked, she admitted to herself that it might be possible – Willow knew these kinds of things better than she did, unquestionably, and the sudden appearance of the monstrous creatures had brought to mind Hydris's attempted attack in the court room. One moment all had seemed peaceful, the next hell was reaching out for them. But Tara didn't want to believe it, and it took some effort of will to acknowledge the possibility, rather than dismissing out of hand that foul, evil creatures were consciously working to take her Willow from her.

"It fits the facts," Willow explained with a frown, "unfortunately. Did you see any of the goat-men attack anyone else?" Tara frowned herself, then shook her head. "Me neither," Willow went on, "I couldn't see much of the caravan, but it sounded like there was a pitched battle going on between the Carvers and the guards. But the goat-men all ignored that, and went for us."

"Maybe they saw us as the greater threat?" Tara asked. "I mean, we kind of, well, annihilated the Carvers that went for us."

"I'm not sure," Willow said, "so far as I know, goat-men have worse vision than a human, I don't think they could have seen us through the dust, before we saw them. And by the time we'd seen them, the Carvers were panicking, and neither of us were attacking them. We would've just looked like a couple of young women at the side of the road. Okay, young women with a bunch of demonic corpses at our feet, but from what I've read about goat-men they're not big thinkers. They're basically in it for the violence, and I think they would have gone for the battle. Maybe a couple would take a swing at us, but not all of them."

"I see what you mean," Tara agreed reluctantly, "and they certainly wouldn't have all followed us when we ran."

"Well, again, maybe a couple would," Willow allowed, "they're kind of bloody-minded, but yeah, not all of them. And between you and me, I'm the only one who's pissed off a major demon."

"Undoubtedly," Willow nodded, "demons aren't exactly the forgiving type. And for them, being summoned is like all their dreams coming true. If they dream, I'm not sure on that. A demon like Shadai would get maybe one chance in a thousand years, if that, to find a mage who's powerful enough to summon her, and insane enough to want to. So, put yourself in her spiky cloven hooves: you've been imprisoned in hell since the Sin Wars, when you finally get a chance to return to the mortal realm, full of humans to be unpleasant to, and with very few mages strong enough to threaten you. And the moment you get there, this little girl of a sorceress pops a banishing spell on you which, dumb idea though it was," she admitted with a rueful grin, "keeps you busy just long enough for a bunch of really powerful sorceresses to show up and blast you back to hell. Plus you're a demon, and therefore full of every negative impulse and personality trait in existence, with none of the positives. How do you feel?"

"That's one way of putting it," Willow agreed. "And I'm starting to think, maybe instead of just moping around hell, she's sort of fixated on getting back at me. Maybe the others, too – Ember, Cyan, Symphony, Prospera, they were all there, they were the ones who destroyed Shadai's form, weakened her enough that my banishing spell worked. We have to warn them, I have to send a message back to the Order as soon as we get out of this."

"We will," Tara said reassuringly. "I'm sure they're okay, the way you describe them they're all powerful sorceresses."

"Well, if the best Shadai can do to us is chase us with goat-men, they're probably not going to get into any danger they can't get out of. We'll send a letter as soon as we reach Kotram, give it to a rider going back to Kingsport, or to Duncraig, whichever is quicker."

"Right," Willow agreed, "okay. Okay, that'll work. You're right, they'll be okay, a-and if anything happens they'll probably be able to figure it out themselves anyway…"

"I don't know," Willow admitted, "somehow she's influencing them, it's the only explanation that makes sense…but she can't be, even a demon as powerful as she is can't project her will out of hell without someone actively helping on this end, doing a ritual to contact her."

"Too dumb. They can barely tell humans from other demons – you saw what they did to those Carvers. They probably didn't even realize they were on the same side. Well, as much as demons ever cooperate."

"Some," Willow said thoughtfully. "I've read accounts in the Order libraries from sorceresses who've seen liches and ghoul lords practice demonic magic to communicate with their masters in hell. And, yeah, some of them were supposed to have goat-men as their slaves, sort of their personal fighters, 'cause ghoul lords are physically pretty fragile…"

"That must be it," Tara concluded, "if they were trying to get to you, then there must be one of these ghoul lords, or some other kind of demon like them, controlling them."

"I can't think of any other explanation," Willow said. "Of course, that doesn't mean there isn't one, just that I can't think of it. But yeah, that's probably it."

"It doesn't change our plan, though?" Tara asked. "We get to Kotram, then rejoin the caravan as soon as a rider shows up."

"What?" Tara asked, as Willow shook her head and took a breath to try to steady herself. Willow stopped abruptly and looked around, as if she couldn't meet Tara's gaze.

"It means I'm putting you in danger," she said angrily. "You weren't at the hospice, but now there's demons chasing after you, a-and mages trying to kill you, and, and gods know what else! Just because you're with me. I mean…" she stopped, gulped down a breath of air, and lifted her hand to lightly touch the bandage on Tara's arm.

"This is my fault," she said quietly. Tara immediately gathered Willow in her arms, and held her as her tears started to flow.

"Shh," she soothed Willow, as her body shook with sobs, "it's not your fault, Willow, it's not. These are evil creatures, Willow, and you're, you're not one of them, you're good, you're the most wonderful thing in the world, and you can't blame yourself for what they do."

"They tried to hurt you," Tara said, "I will never let that happen, Willow, not if there's anything I can do to stop it. I'm okay, and you're not hurt, and we'll get through this together, okay?" Willow clung to her, her sobs becoming quieter, but not entirely gone. Tara took her head in her hands, lifting her so she could see her face, and wipe the tears from Willow's cheeks with her thumbs.

"I can't leave you," she said, "I can't, and I won't. I will stay by your side Willow, always, there's simply no other choice for me to make, and no other choice I would make even if I could. Okay?" Willow nodded, tears still shining in her eyes. Tara leaned forward and kissed her, very gently.

"Okay," Willow said. They let go of each other, keeping their hands held, and continued on their way along the outskirts of the wood, towards the rise ahead.

"I know you feel this is something that's your problem, not mine," Tara said gently, "but it's not. If these creatures, and Shadai, threaten you, then they're threatening me too. You're mine, Willow, just like I'm yours. That's…you're the most perfect, beautiful part of my life, and I won't let anything take you away from me. What would you do, if demons were hunting me?" Willow nodded her understanding.

"Freeze them so hard they'll take centuries to melt in the hellfire," she said firmly.

"Thank you," Willow said sincerely, "thank you for…gods, for being you, for being amazing."

"All yours," Tara said, "and more. You're welcome. Come on," she added, quickening her pace, "are you okay for a bit more speed?"

"If you're right about the demons, they'll definitely be looking for us. Do goat-men sleep?"

"Um, I think so. Yes, definitely, I read once about them sleeping underground whenever they can. I'm not sure for how long, though."

"Well, we've probably still got a decent lead on them," Tara went on, "and like I said yesterday, they'll have to go carefully or risk going past us without noticing, so that gives us the edge. With luck, we'll reach Kotram tomorrow, before they get anywhere near us again."

The walk up the rise was tiring, if not particularly difficult to persevere with, and more than once Willow envied Tara, who didn't seem to be feeling the exertion at all. She spent some time in admiration of Tara's legs, noting her strong, elegant muscles and the light sheen of sweat that built as they neared the top, but eventually her curiosity got the better of her.

"At times," Tara said lightly, "in training, of course, but sometimes I just go walking in the forest. Amazons have to be able to keep up on long marches, of course, we don't have lots of horses so if for some reason, for example, we had to send a group of prides from Tran Athulua to the coast, to repel invaders or board a fleet for one of the other islands, it'd be on foot. One of the final training stages includes a march from the city all the way to the eastern shore, along the old forest tracks. Each girl starts one day ahead of the next, and we have twenty-five days to make the journey, surviving just on what we can carry, and what the forest provides."

"Wow," Willow murmured, the path up the rise suddenly put in perspective for her. "And you did that on your own?"

"Yep," Tara said, "twenty-three days, plus an hour or so on the next day. I could've jogged the last part in the evening of the last day, but there wasn't any need to hurry."

"Physically? It's not that hard," Tara allowed, "but it's not the same. There I was at home, I knew the forest, there were no dangers I didn't know about, and in the unlikely event of something happening, there were instructors tracking us all the way. Here…the land is unfamiliar, I'm still getting used to the feel of it, and getting an idea for how to live off it, if need be."

"Just observing," Tara explained, "seeing where the edible plants are, how frequently they grow along our path, how many we can expect up ahead if we need them. What kinds of animals are around, what sort of camp site we need to find to be secure…whether we'll have good weather or bad, how much warning there'll be if a storm comes." She offered Willow a smile, and squeezed her hand warmly. "At least I still have my home with me."

"Aw, and now I just have to kiss you," Willow said, stopping briefly to press a kiss against Tara's lips. They continued up the rise arm-in-arm, smiling.

"There's more useful plants than I thought at first," Tara mused, "probably as the ground gets less rocky towards the river we'll find more. Could be a reprieve for the rabbits, even if we do have to supplement our rations."

"I'm starting to get a feel for the woods, as well," Tara went on, "the trees, the plants beneath them, the animals sheltering there, it's different to those on the islands, but in a way it's similar as well. Like sisters, each their own, but like each other."

"No kidding," Willow said, fascinated with how Tara saw an environment that, up until now, she herself had considered scenery between cities.

"It's something I've thought about before," Tara explained, "it was actually when I was doing my training march that I got the idea. Something…well, odd, happened, and it got me thinking."

"Well," Tara recounted, "it was on the eighteenth day, I was in the deepest part of the forest, the eastern basin between the city plateau and the hills by the coast. It's probably the oldest part of the forest on Philios, and the only area apart from some wild lands in the north that's actually dangerous – not for a trained warrior," she hastened to reassure Willow, "but for someone who couldn't track and defend themselves, there are some animals that defend their territory aggressively, and it could be easy to stray near their nests or dens and make them think they were threatened. That didn't happen, though, I saw signs of a couple of nests but stayed clear of them.

"Anyway, I was walking along, just sort of letting my senses guide me – I knew I was making good time, and didn't have to hurry – and I suddenly felt like I was being watched. And when an Amazon feels like that, it means she is being watched, after enough training you can sort of feel a…a parallel, I suppose, in the tiny reactions of whatever's watching you. In tiny little ways – breathing, small motions, tension – when you watch someone, you react to them. Well, I felt something nearby reacting to me, to my motions. But it didn't feel threatening, just…curious? It's a sense I can't really explain, maybe it's just a development of tracking skills, but I could feel a faint echo, or something like that. It wasn't afraid of me, or hostile in any way, it was just watching me to see what I was. And after a while, it was sort of…satisfied, I guess, and it blended in with the forest until it wasn't there any more."

"Not for sure," Tara replied, "I never felt it again, and I never saw anything. I think, though, maybe it was a bramble hulk."

"Really?" Willow was surprised. "I thought you said they were only on Lycander."

"They are," Tara said with a shrug, "so far as anyone knows. At least, there's a part of Lycander, the deep forest there, that we leave pretty much alone, apart from veteran warriors who're welcome there, and conduct all the trade between us and them. But from the way that hulks are described, what I sensed felt like one of them. It was like the forest, but slightly more…focused, more alert. Like the difference between a normal person and a warrior, which I guess they are. Guardians of the forest, that's what they're supposed to be."

"Actually," Tara said, "a while later I found something that made me think back on that, and that maybe explains it. There's some legends – really old ones – that say when a bramble hulk is in danger, it can become part of the forest, just merge completely with the big, old trees. Its bark becomes the tree's bark, its blood becomes their sap, and its spirit…I guess its spirit is always part of the forest anyway. And they can re-emerge in different places, because the forest is all one thing."

"That's what the legends say," Tara said, "and in a way it makes sense. Like I said, a forest is one thing, more than just a collection of individual trees. The whole forest, all the trees and plants and even the animals to an extent, all grow and feed and wither and die together, not individually. If one tree is hurt, it affects the whole forest, and if part of the forest is strong, it can spread and make the whole forest strong. So there's all these links between the individual living things, as if in spirit they're all one living thing. I suppose hulks can move through the whole forest because of that. And I was wondering, what if it's not just true of one forest?"

"But Lycander's an island," Willow pointed out, "there's, what, how many miles of ocean between it and Philios?"

"But the living forest isn't completely isolated," Tara observed, "the streams that flow through it flow into the ocean, and the plants on the shores, mangroves and so on, drink those waters, and there are tides that move between all three islands. And the smaller plants, flowers and those sorts of things, some of them spread their seeds on the wind, and they could be carried from one island to another. Not the big trees, of course, it's pretty difficult to fly an acorn across fifty miles of ocean…unless it falls in the water, and floats…maybe even that's possible, once in a while, perhaps. And of course it's all very slow, and mostly they're isolated from each other, but…"

"I get it," Willow completed her thought, "forests are slow things naturally, like…if you measured a person by heartbeats, the equivalent for forests would be years, the seasons coming and going."

"Exactly," Tara went on, "and in something that slow, and… and massive, all those little points of contact between one forest and another could build a sort of bond between them. And maybe the hulks can move through those as well."

"So the bramble hulks think you're satisfactory?" Willow concluded. "Well, I can agree with that sentiment…even if I'd use stronger terms." Tara smiled.

"Thanks," she murmured, "and yeah, when I wondered if that's what it was, it was kind of…pleasing. I like the forest, I like the living world, so it's nice to know that, I guess, it likes me as well." She started to say something else, but stumbled.

"Hey, whoa," Willow exclaimed, clutching Tara's arm to steady her, "are you okay? What's wrong?"

"I don't know," Tara said, frowning, "I just felt kind of faint for a moment…like I'd just stood up too fast, you know?" She shook her head. "It's passing now, it was just…" Her frown deepened, and as one she and Willow looked at the bandage on her arm.

"No," Tara said, stopping for a moment to prod the bandage, "actually it's a bit numb…I changed it last night, I didn't feel anything wrong, but it was dark…" She finished removing the bandage, and Willow let out a little gasp. The cuts in her arm seemed to be clean, with no sign of infection in the wounds, but the skin around them was tinged with gray.

"That's not good," Tara said distantly. Willow tentatively touched a fingertip to the discolored skin, looking for any sign from Tara that it hurt.

"Feels cold," she said with a frown. She guided Tara to a rock to sit on, and unfastened the pouch on her hip.

"I remember Ember saying something about cold skin once," she explained, producing the journal, "she was talking about cold magic mainly, about making your skin cold – you know, like I did with my tongue that time – but she said something about it being like you'd had a run-in with a zombie. At the time I didn't think to ask…" She lapsed into silence for a moment, turning the pages and scanning through them with impressive speed, her lips silently framing unfamiliar words as she did so.

"Here," she said at last, "here it is, 'undead have been known to cause a sickness, the grave's touch, especially those who died recently' – well, that fits, that poor man hadn't been dead sixty seconds. Let me see, open wounds, skeletons, herbs, ah! Oh no…'if untreated, the grave's touch will proceed through the body over the course of approximately two weeks, aided by cold and hindered by warmth, until it reaches the brain, where," her voice dropped to a choked whisper, "it will end in death." She held her breath, reading furiously, her other hand tight around Tara's.

"Come on, come on, please please please," she muttered to herself, "yes! Yes, here, treatable by healing potions of Kurast manufacture," she looked up at Tara, with desperate excitement in her eyes, "I've got those! I've got two, this says you only need one!" She fumbled at the tiny leather cylinders on her belt, opening one and producing a slim vial filled with ruby red liquid, which she handed to Tara.

"It only takes a few seconds to work," she said quickly, "they're designed to be used in battle if need be, so they can't afford to take too long to work, only," a frown crossed her face, and she hugged Tara around the waist, "only, when it works, it's going to hurt."

"How much?" Tara asked with a deep, steadying breath. Willow looked almost as distressed as she had been a moment ago.

"A lot," she said, "it's…the way it works is partly by nullifying toxins and poisons, but also by magically accelerating the body's own healing. So it can repair cuts and so on, even broken bones if they're set first-" She halted herself before she could start to babble aimlessly. "All the healing that would normally take, oh, weeks or so, happens in a few seconds, but all the soreness, a-and the little twinges of pain and aches and stuff you'd get while you were healing, all that is compressed as well. The alchemists are always talking about figuring out how to do one without the other, but no-one's got it yet…" she trailed off miserably.

"Oh well," Tara said, with a resigned shrug, "a-at least it kind of fits in with the whole balance concept." She gave Willow a weak smile, which Willow returned. "Do one thing for me?" she asked, in a quieter, more serious voice.

"Oh gods, always," Willow said at once. Tara nodded, kissed Willow tenderly on the forehead, then pulled out the tiny stopper in the vial.

"Wait," Willow said, fumbling with her belt. She undid it and slid off the empty potion cylinder.

"Um, maybe," she said, offering it to Tara, "if it hurts too much…maybe bite down on this?" She cringed as she said it.

"Thank you," Tara said gently. She held the cylinder in one hand, the vial in the other. Carefully she leant into Willow's embrace, her arms around Willow's back. In a swift motion she tipped the contents of the vial into her mouth and swallowed, then steeled herself against the expected pain, ready to bite down on the leather if need be, and hoping she could weather the worst of it without crying out or clutching too hard, or anything that would upset Willow more.

The liquid tasted faintly of apples, and though it wasn't cold at all, it sent a chill through Tara as she swallowed, like ice water. She closed her eyes and concentrated on breathing, slow in, slow out…and then, a twinge of pain shot through her arm, and another, and suddenly it was burning hot as if she'd plunged it into the molten steel of a forge. There was no dizziness or nausea, which she was just aware enough to be thankful for, but the pain itself was the most intense she had ever felt. For a moment it felt as if the heat had got into her blood, that white-hot metal was flowing through her veins, through her whole body – she bit down hard, then opened her mouth to scream, the cylinder falling to the ground, but she stopped herself by force of will, allowing nothing but a tiny whimper to escape.

Then it was over, and she was panting, sweating, clinging to Willow like the last survivor of a shipwreck, tossed on the ocean and clutching at driftwood for her life's sake. The sudden cessation of the pain left her confused, and it took a moment for her to realize Willow was whispering fiercely into her ear.

"-gonna be alright baby, I promise, you're gonna be fine, I'm so sorry, gods I'm sorry, I'll protect you, I'll make it okay, I'm so sorry…"

"Willow," Tara said, surprising herself with the sound of her own voice – she had expected a weak whisper, but her voice was strong and level. Willow paused, and Tara searched for something to say to reassure her, to stop her blaming herself. And then she realized:

"You did," Tara said, "I'd never have known what to do on my own, and I wouldn't have had any potions. You saved my life."

"I…" Willow hesitated, pausing as if to test the unfamiliar idea. "Well, okay," she said dismissively after a moment, "but it's not like it was me, technically…I mean, I just had the potion on me, and I had to look it up to know what was wrong…anyone could've done that."

"But you did," Tara smiled. She leaned forward again and kissed Willow firmly, and the vigor with which she opened Willow's lips and explored inside her mouth seemed to be heartening for both of them.

"Um…" Willow said with a bemused smile once Tara released her lips, "so…you're feeling okay?" Tara stretched, keeping an arm around Willow, now for comfort rather than support.

"Actually, I feel great," she said. "I feel…refreshed, relaxed…like I just woke up."

"Oh," Willow nodded, "oh, well, good. Good. You're okay," she added to herself, and lunged forward to return Tara's kiss, this time seeking, and gaining, admittance to Tara's mouth and taking her time enjoying it.

"You're okay," she repeated, leaning back. "It's all good. Yay!" Tara smiled, and quickly touched the tip of her nose to Willow's.

"And adorable," Tara pointed out. She stretched her arm and looked at it. "Hey," she said, surprised, "all better." Willow nodded and ran her fingers down Tara's arm, which was perfectly healed, without a trace of the cuts that had been there moments earlier, or the discolored skin around them.

"Shall we go?" Willow took her hand, stood up, and looped her arm around Tara's.

"Certainly," she replied with a smile. "Oh, wait, let me get that…" She quickly gathered up the fallen potion pouch and replaced it on her belt, then went to put the journal back, but reconsidered and kept it in her hand.

"Can't hurt," Willow said, using her thumb to flip the pages of the small book over as she held it one-handed. "Actually I want to see if there's anything about Carvers controlling human undead, I got the impression from what I remember that they only resurrect their own…maybe we can get a better idea of whatever's controlling the goat-men." Tara smiled, spreading her senses around her once again, but otherwise just enjoying being with Willow, and listening to her absent-minded narration as she read.

"Lemme see…undead…come on, it's got to be around here somewhere… one of these days I'm going to go through this book and write up an index or something. Could be a ghoul lord…I mean, undead are their thing, hence the name, lords of ghouls…that's a kind of zombie, they're a bit more energetic than the everyday sort, takes more concentrated necromantic magic to raise them, I think…never really paid that much attention to necromancy, I mean, undead aren't like demons, it's usually easier to just ice them than try to counter the magic animating them…icky stuff anyway…" Tara stole occasional glances at Willow, biting her lip at the cuteness of the intense expression of concentration on her face, and together they walked on.

It was almost midday when they reached the crest of the rise and looked out across the Kingsway valley. In the far distance, visible only as a glitter of reflected sunlight, the river peeked through the small hills surrounding it. Nearer, beyond another large ridge perhaps two dozen miles away, a brown-brown blob surrounded by patches of uniform color suggested a town and its fields.

"It's in the right place," Tara said, "and as large as the map showed it. Stone buildings on the central hill, with smaller wooden buildings lower down. A keep and surrounding villages, I guess."

"You can see that?" Willow asked. "I can only just make out that it's there at all."

"Ah, so those gorgeous blue eyes of yours aren't just decorative," Willow said, nodding to herself. Tara's hand, around her waist, snuck lower to swat her on the bottom.

"Come on, my cheeky sorceress," she said, taking Willow's hand again, "we've still got a lot of ground to cover. I think maybe…wait a moment."

"What?" Willow asked, as Tara changed direction slightly, kneeling down to examine the ground after a few paces.

"Something's walked here," she said as Willow knelt beside her, "lots of people." Willow looked either way along the top of the rise.

"No, not people," Tara frowned, "clawed feet, there's indentations in the dirt…if that rain we had passed over here at all, maybe…ten days, two weeks ago."

"They're the right size," Tara sighed, "it could've been a band of them. Moving at night, they wouldn't have worried about being seen, so they kept to the ridge…" She peered off into the distance, northward where the rise curled around to the west. "I wonder if it was the band that attacked the caravan?"

"They can't have known we were coming," Willow said, "ten days ago we hadn't even set out from the castle."

"I suppose something comes along the road sooner or later," Tara mused. "I don't see any other tracks, nothing more recent certainly… well, no matter then." She stood up and inspected the terrain ahead of them, absently fishing a pair of wrapped rations from the satchel slung over her shoulder.

"We should try to reach the foot of that next rise by evening," she said, handing one to Willow, "it looks like there might be a stream, maybe even a building. Something wooden, I don't think it's trees…" Willow peered where Tara was looking, which was obscured by distance and haze.

"I'll have to take your word for it," she said with a grin, "that's pretty impressive."

"It's just a vague shape," Tara shrugged, "maybe a hunting cabin or something like that. But if it looks safe, I wouldn't say no to having a roof over our heads for our last night out in the wilderness. You?"

"Me too," Willow nodded. "Do you think we'll make it?" Tara again inspected the ground between them and their impromptu destination.

"It's not too far, but the ground is a bit broken, some more hills down there…I think we'll reach it before the sun sets."

"Well," Willow said, holding out her free hand to Tara, "let's cover some ground then."

The ground was broken and rocky on the downward slopes of the rise, but smoother and greener the further Willow and Tara walked. With an hour and a half, Tara guessed, of sunlight before evening, they reached a small wood growing in the bottom of the valley, beneath the final ridge, and skirting around to the north of it they found the cabin Tara had seen from afar.

"No," Tara said, "I don't think so." She had her spear held protectively in front of her, but Willow felt a sense of calm about her that suggested her instincts weren't warning her of any close danger. Nevertheless, she slung her bow over her shoulder, keeping her right hand free to cast, and a firm grip on her staff with the other.

The cabin was a simple, rugged building, barely large enough to be considered a house more than a shed. On the far side, peeking over the top of the roof, was a stone chimney, while the walls were rough-cut wood. The two windows they could see were closed with shutters, but the door was half-open, its bottom corner resting against a stone in the patch of hard-packed dirt that served as a path in front of it. Rough tracks led off north, north-east and south, the last heading into the trees.

"Deserted," Tara murmured. Willow nodded absently – her nerves were still a little shaky from the day's events, but she wasn't getting any sense of foreboding from the crude little cabin. It didn't look as if it harbored dangerous people or skulking demons, merely that it was unused and neglected. Reaching the door, Tara tapped it with her spear-point, listening for any movement from within. Hearing none, she peered into the gloom inside, with Willow close behind her.

The cabin proved to be empty, and a cursory search suggested it had been for some time. There were two rooms, the first, which the front door opened into, little more than a wide hallway with a sturdy, simple table at one end, and hooks on the side wall for coats or weapons. There was a patch of dirt just inside the door, on the floor and on the doorframe, where boots had been scraped free of mud, but it had long since dried out. A few leaves had blown in through the open door, but on the table and all over the far end of the hall, sheltered from the wind, was a thick layer of dust.

The other room, through a side door at the end of the hall, was larger and suggested that it had once been more comfortably furnished. The stone fireplace opened there, with a few half-burned logs on an iron grate, and the floor in front of it was covered by an old rug, worn through to the floorboards in places, its colors long since faded to dusty browns and grays. There was a single chair, a shelf on the wall beside it, and a bed with a bundle of worn, dusty blankets draped carelessly over one end of it. Of who had once lived here, or what they had done, there was little trace.

"Maybe it's a hunter's cabin," Tara suggested, breaking the silence as they stood in the room, "someone from Kotram might come out here during the summer, and leave it empty the rest of the year. It's definitely more than a season since anyone was in here." She pushed open the shutters, which moved with a protesting creak, and checked the views from the three windows.

"Do you think it might be safe?" Willow asked. Tara stared thoughtfully out of the window she stood in front of, which faced back to the west, into the sun creeping towards the rise they had stood on hours earlier. For a moment she was lost in thought, then she glanced at Willow and gave her a smile.

"I think so," she said. "I haven't seen any sign of demons since the trail up on the hill, and I haven't sensed anything dangerous. I suppose, if we're careful, we'd be as safe here as out in the open. At least this way we're out of the wind, and we'll be dry if it rains." She caught Willow's hand and gave it a squeeze.

"Yay," Willow said with satisfaction. "No fire, though? Thought not," she added when Tara gave a rueful half-grin.

"From the outside, there'd be nothing to indicate this was anything but an abandoned cabin," she said, turning her attention back to their surroundings, "and it's been left alone so far. We'll stay here. But there's plenty of sunlight left, I'd like to find that stream I thought I saw. Coming?"

"You even have to ask?" said Willow wryly, giving Tara a quick hug and kissing her on the cheek.

After a couple of minutes following the trail into the woods Tara heard the sound of running water, a few paces before Willow noticed it as well. Ahead the trail passed by a large boulder, sitting incongruously in the middle of the trees, and when they rounded it they saw the sparkle of water in the sunlight ahead. The trail veered close to the stream, then back into the woods, while Willow and Tara brushed through the handful of bushes in their way and stood on the grassy bank, grinning at each other. The scene was unexpectedly lovely: the stream, winding through the woods, trickled into a shallow depression, forming a tiny lake before bubbling on its way. At the south end another boulder lay half-submerged, a great, flat rock tilted over so that it slanted gently beneath the water. The far bank was covered in wild flowers, blooming in red and white, and the sunlight came through the foliage in erratic rays, shifting lazily as the taller branches swayed in the gentle breeze above.

"You know, I think whoever built that cabin was on to a good thing," Willow observed with a smile.

"Oh, that's tough," Willow frowned, "fresh sheets on the bed, hot food, no prowling monsters…civilization has its good points. But then again, this…" She gestured vaguely around.

"You remember the house I told you about?" Tara said, hugging Willow from behind, "the one we'll make our home? The lake comes right up to the back of the house…a little ridge goes out from the shore on the left side, and curves around, almost enclosing it, like our own little private lake, with trees growing along the sides…we could plant flowers by the banks, just like this." Willow sighed happily, then turned and kissed Tara, very slowly and gently.

"I know," Tara replied, "I love you." She returned Willow's kiss, just as gentle and peaceful, her tongue leisurely tracing Willow's lips, in lieu of any more frenzied activity. Willow moaned quietly into her mouth, and put on an adorable pout when Tara finally stepped back.

"Okay, correction," Tara conceded with a grin, "we can't kiss all day today. Anyway, if we did, there wouldn't be any time for a bath." Willow's eyes lit up, and she glanced at the tiny lake.

"Really?" she asked. "You think it's safe? I mean…I don't want to end up fighting demons with no clothes on. Me with the no clothes, not the demons, they typically don't bother anyway." Tara laughed to herself and kissed the tip of Willow's nose.

"I don't feel any danger around," she said, "I think we can afford to be out of armor for a little while. Quickly though, we should get back to the cabin before the sun goes down."

"Gotcha," Willow said, "what do you think, an hour?" Tara glanced at the angle of the sunlight coming through the trees.

"Pretty close," she said, "no less than that. You get started, I'll just check the view from that rock." Willow nodded and sat down on the grass, pulling her boots off. She took a speculative whiff of one of them, and then gingerly put both boots down at arm's length.

"Okay," she said to herself, undoing her skirt, "cross-country walking equals intense need for regular bathing." She unslung the waterskin from her shoulder and put it and her belt aside, with Tara's pack.

"Hey Tara…Tara?" She looked down towards the big rock, but Tara was nowhere in sight. "Tara!" She breathed a sigh of relief as Tara straightened up from behind the rock.

"Sorry," Willow said sheepishly, as Tara walked back to her, "guess I'm a bit jumpy." Tara sat down next to her and put a hand on her shoulder.

"It's alright," she said gently, "I can understand why. I was just looking at that rock, I only crouched down for a second."

"I know, I just glanced over at the wrong time," Willow said, embarrassed at herself, "I just…for a moment everything was starting to feel kind of normal again, and then you weren't there, I guess…my overreaction, sorry."

"No, don't be sorry," Tara said soothingly, helping Willow take off her armor, "it's nothing to be embarrassed about. We had a scare today, and I think maybe it was worse for you than it was for me."

"How?" Willow asked, feeling strangely vulnerable. "You were the one who…who was…"

"Strong how?" Willow asked, almost pleading. "I was…what could I have done? If I hadn't had the potion, if I hadn't had the journal, or if it had needed some other cure I didn't have with me, I…there would've been nothing I could do, I-" She choked back a sob. "I feel like I came so close to losing you, a-and I…I was so scared," she finally admitted. In an instant Tara was holding her, and she was crying on Tara's shoulder.

"Shh, it's alright," Tara murmured, "it's alright Willow, I'm here, I'm with you, just like I always will be."

"It's alright," Tara repeated, "it's alright…you had a scare, that's all. You just need to heal." She kissed Willow on the top of her head, then leant down to whisper in her ear: "and I know exactly the potion to cure you." Willow paused at the seductive tone in Tara's voice, confused.

"Make love to me," Tara whispered, "run your hands all over me, feel how alive I am…how alive you make me…"

"I-is it safe enough here?" Willow asked hesitantly, her body responding to Tara even as her mind was still caught between conflicting impulses.

"Oh gods I want to," Willow gasped, "I just…don't want to be careless, not after almost…losing-"

"I promise," Tara said again, "I would never risk myself, or you. You know that."

"I know," Willow echoed. Her tentative grin turned sultry, then almost predatory as she hugged Tara against her, and then quickly went to work on the buckles holding her armor on. Between her hands and Tara's the leathers were lying on the ground in no time, and Tara was left in her boots and underwear. With the sudden inflaming of passions so unexpected after their enforced abstention of the past two days, Willow was left breathless for a moment, gazing down the length of Tara's body, across her full breasts, the curves of her hips, her long, elegant legs, down to the points of her boots and back up again to meet her gaze. Tara leaned back on the grass and kicked off her boots, dipping her eyes momentarily. Willow followed her gaze down, then reached for the leather underwear around Tara's hips and dragged them down her legs, making herself wait until she had tossed them aside to join the rest of their clothes before looking back, granting herself the sight of her lover's naked form.

"Oh my gods," she breathed, all thoughts of making love to Tara momentarily displaced by the joy of simply seeing her, devouring the sight of her. Tara smiled, stretched, then slowly got to her feet and reached a hand down for Willow. Willow took it, was drawn to her feet in a daze, and followed Tara hand-in-hand over to the big boulder slanting out of the water. She blinked as she felt her feet cool, and realized belatedly that they had walked a little way into the small lake. Tara turned to her, leaned forward, lifted Willow's hand and pressed it to her chest, then to her lips for a gentle kiss. Then, all languid elegance, she lay down on the smooth surface of the boulder, glowing in the afternoon sun. Willow took a step forward and knelt next to her, breathing in little gasps. She gulped and licked her lips as Tara looked up at her, and nodded.

Without a word Willow leaned over Tara, almost kissing her. She could feel Tara's breath against her lips, tempting her, but still she hovered just beyond contact, staring into Tara's eyes, where she saw desire, anticipation, need, but above all peace. Leaning on one arm, she gingerly touched her free hand to Tara's stomach, eliciting a soft whimper from Tara, who writhed gently under her touch. Willow leant a fraction further, brushing her lips lightly on Tara's, not enough for a kiss, merely hints of contact, tantalizing tastes of the softness of her lips. Her hand crept steadily upwards, her fingertips teasing the underside of Tara's breasts, straying into the cleavage between the two soft, flawless mounds resting like pillows against her chest. Tara gasped, tilted her head backward, reaching for Willow's lips, but still Willow held herself back, touching her, teasing her, her tongue darting out to taste Tara's lips, but never quite sealing the kiss. When Willow finally stretched her hand across Tara's right breast, squeezing gently, Tara let out a long, deep sigh, and her attempts to reach Willow dwindled away, replaced by a blissful calm where she stared into Willow's eyes and simply accepted whatever touch or caress she offered.

Willow slid her left leg over Tara's hips and straddled her, pressing her silk-covered sex against Tara's stomach while her other hand joined the first, completing her embrace of Tara's breasts. Tara smiled wider, if that was possible, and arched her back, pressing her waist up between Willow's wide-spread thighs, stretching her arms out above her head and using her body to please Willow. Willow bit her lip, resting more of her weight on Tara and more aggressively massaging her breasts, feeling her fingertips press into the yielding flesh, and Tara's nipples hard in the centers of her palms. Small, musical sounds emanated from Tara's through, escaping her lips as she gasped and clenched her teeth, writhing beneath Willow as if her climax was already near. For a long time Willow lost herself in the experience of pleasing Tara, feeling the delight of holding her breasts, their softness and weight, pressing against them and cupping them, and in Tara's answering gyrations, the firm pressure against her sex, knowing the pleasure she was giving her.

Finally she could wait no longer. In a smooth motion she slid to one side, her sex still pressed against Tara's hip rather than lifting away from her, and her hands moved. One cradled Tara's head, her fingers slipping easily through the silky blonde hair, the other moved down her stomach and through the soft curls of hair at the apex of her thighs. Tara nodded, wordlessly pleading. Willow's fingers found her wetness, already soaking her sex and glistening on her inner thighs, and for a moment she smiled down at Tara, noting every tiny moan and whimper as her fingers played in her sex, stroking close to her clit, brushing against her lips and then at last seeking the crevice between them. She readied the tip of a finger at the entrance to Tara's passage, then almost kissed her, nipping her bottom lip and holding it for a moment. As she leant back, a second finger joined the first, poised to explore Tara's depths.

"Please," Tara whispered, and no voice bearing edicts from rulers, angels or gods could ever have achieved such total command of Willow's heart as that simple, heartfelt plea. Feeling as if somehow it was Tara making love to her, Willow slid her fingers into the tight, welcoming confines of her sex, and as Tara's lips parted again in a gasp Willow kissed her.

In the first gasp of pleasure at Willow entering her Tara had let her mouth open wide, and she made no effort to pull away when Willow's kiss claimed her, their lips sealed together, Willow's tongue venturing deep into the warmth of Tara's mouth. Tara sighed, moaned, whimpered, arched her back, bucked her hips, all without any thought of restraint, the sounds from her throat muffled by Willow lips, the motions of her body serving only to enfold Willow's fingers deeper into her sex. Willow's steadily thrusting fingertips searched out Tara's sweet spot and caressed it, first with soft, tender care, and slowly, building as Tara neared climax, more firmly stroking over the especially sensitive place within her. When Tara was an inch from climax Willow pressed the heel of her hand firmly against her clit, and buried her fingers in her, probing and stimulating the wet interior of her sex, again and again crossing over her sweet spot, pressing just a little firmer each time.

Tara brought her hands up to cup Willow's face as their kiss reached its climax, and her body heaved and let loose its bounty of arousal. As she came her lips moved against Willow's, closing on her tongue of lips and again opening wide, inviting her in. With every renewal of the kiss Willow flexed her fingers, sending another bout of sweet tremors through Tara. Tara let all the strength out of her body, completely relaxed in Willow's hold, and when at last the kiss ended she smiled up at her.

Willow returned her smile, feeling no urgent need to have her own body's wants attended to, but simply a great sense of satisfaction and peace. She realized that all afternoon she had felt uneasy, a remnant of the quick panic that had gripped her as she had frantically searched through the pages of Ember's journal for a treatment for Tara's wound. Even when she had found it, and Tara was well again, a part of her hadn't let go of the icy fear she had felt then. But now, it was gone.

"Better?" she asked. Willow nodded, smiling and wondering. "Something I learned, in weapons training in fact," Tara went on, "some things you can understand perfectly with your mind, but your body has to learn as well. Like wielding a spear – you can see it done a hundred times, memorize every motion, but until you hold it in your hands, feel your own body going through those motions, you never quite grasp it."

"When you were worried about me today," Tara said, running her finger up to rest against Willow's temple, "when it was over, your mind understood I was safe, that you weren't going to lose me. But your body," her hand traveled down Willow's neck to brush against her cleavage, "was still afraid."

"And now I'm not," Willow finished, marveling at how Tara could know what she needed, when she herself hadn't really known.

"Now you're not," Tara echoed. "Now you've felt me in your arms again, felt me move under your hands…felt the pleasure you've given me…now you know in here," she tapped Willow's temple again, "and here," her fingers returned to her chest, "that you're not going to lose me."

"Something like that," Tara nodded, sitting up slowly, "I'm sure it would've sunk in in a day or two that I'm not going anywhere, but," she leaned close, as if imparting a secret, "I kind of liked this way better."

"That, and many, many other things," Willow purred, lifting her soaked fingers to her mouth, wetting her lips and then sucking them clean.

"Careful," Tara warned, "you might tempt me too much, and then we'll be too exhausted in the morning to walk anywhere."

"Oh, don't worry," Willow grinned, "I'll wait until we're safe and snug in an inn or something, then I'll lick you 'til you can't move a muscle."

"Hmm, that's a claim I'll have to investigate further when the time comes," Tara murmured, idly dragging Willow's silken underwear over her hips and down her legs.

"It's not a claim, it's a promise," Willow corrected, lifting her feet free of her last article of clothing.

"Come here you," Tara said fondly, reaching one arm beneath Willow's knees and the other around her back, picking her up with just a slight exhalation of effort.

"You're not that heavy," Tara pointed out, walking slowly out into the water. Willow looped her arms casually around Tara's neck.

"So now that my lovely Amazon warrior has come and swept me off my feet, now what?"

"Wha- AH!" Willow squealed as the cold water splashed around her. Her legs flailed uselessly as Tara rose up, grinning a mischievous grin through strands of wet hair plastered over her face.

"That was thoroughly evil!" Willow protested, not quite able to keep herself from grinning in return.

"I'd say fortuitous," Tara pointed out, "who knows how long we'd have been out here if we hadn't cooled off?"

"Oh yeah?" Willow shot back, sweeping an arm across the water's surface, splashing Tara. Tara let go of her and dived backwards, splashing out of Willow's reach before regaining her footing and sending an answering wave towards Willow, completing the task of thoroughly soaking her. The two splashed and laughed for a few moments, finally coming to rest not far from the shore, hugging each other and giggling uncontrollably in waist-deep water.

"So long as we're agreed it's a draw," Tara replied, catching her breath and smiling, "an Amazon never accepts defeat."

"Okay," Willow nodded, "but I'm not promising not to get you back at an undetermined future date." Tara grinned, kissed Willow on the forehead, and took her hand. Together they made their way back to the shore where their belongings were piled.

"Oh, I know it," Willow replied. Tara handed her one of the blankets from her pack.

"It'll do as a towel," she said, "we won't need it while we're in shelter." Willow dried herself off and dressed, lastly wandering over to the boulder where her underwear was lying. She picked the silk up and examined it critically.

"Got an idea," Willow said. Kneeling by the water she dipped the underwear in and scrubbed it for a moment, cleaning the fabric as best she could under the circumstances.

"What if the hosts of hell descend on us before they dry?" Tara asked lightly. "You're going to fight evil panty-less?"

"There's something I've occasionally wanted to try," Willow said, laying her underwear back on the rock, "it's tricky, but I might as well give it a shot…" She concentrated, and a misty haze formed around the soaked article of clothing. Tara finished pulling her boots on and came over to watch, as Willow closed her eyes, her brow furrowing as the mist swirled around, little streams of vapor moving in tight spirals within it. Finally, with a relieved exhale, Willow opened her eyes and dispersed the chilly vapor.

"What did you do?" Tara asked. Willow picked up the briefs and handed them to Tara, who jumped when she touched them.

"Motion by temperature variance," Willow said with a grin, "same way I make ice bolts fly. Only, that's pretty simplistic, whereas drawing the moisture out of a pair of panties without accidentally shredding said panties…tricky. Interesting, though, much more delicate and subtle to the exercises I'm used to."

"You're a woman of many talents," Tara observed, handing Willow her underwear back.

"Want me to do yours?" Willow asked. Tara smiled her thanks, and wriggled out of her leather briefs.

"Never say no to clean underwear," Tara mused, scrubbing the leather in the stream's water. She watched, fascinated, as Willow bit her lip in concentration and drew the moisture out, leaving the leather as dry as if it had spent a day resting in the sun.

"There you go," Willow said, handing them back to Tara, "now we're sparkling and pristine again." They picked up the rest of their things and started on their way back to the cabin.

"Thanks," Willow smiled, "yeah, who'd have thought Zann Esu training would make me the perfect traveling laundry service?"

"Oh, I never assume you can't do anything," Tara replied. "Just as well, though. I was thinking we should clean at least our underwear tomorrow, but I didn't really want to travel cross-country with nothing under my skirt while they were drying out."

"Yeah, imagine if you had to high-kick a Carver," Willow pointed out. Tara shuddered theatrically.

"No thank you," she said, "I'm a one-woman Amazon. You're the only one who gets to see the, um, intimate side of me."

They reached the cabin just as the sun was starting to set, and in the little remaining light Tara did her best to clean up the old blankets they had found there, taking them outside and whacking them against a nearby tree to try to beat the dust out of them, with marginal success.

"They're still kind of dirty," she said apologetically when she returned, to find Willow laying out the sleeping bag on the empty bed frame.

"Doesn't matter," Willow said, "you're right, I don't think we'll need more than one blanket tonight. That padding on the back of your pack is kind of soft, it'll make an okay pillow. Do you think they'd be okay if we washed them? We could tomorrow, before we set out, and then wring them dry, I don't know if I can dry out something that big all at once, but we could get them dry enough to carry them, and they'd dry out properly during the day, so if we need them…"

"We'll be in Kotram by tomorrow afternoon," Tara reminded her. Willow grinned a sheepish grin.

"Oh, yeah," she said, "I forgot. Well, not really, I guess I was just kind of getting into the whole survivalist thing, us against the wilderness, with just our wits and whatever we can scrounge up to help us. Plus I'm a natural scavenger." Tara retrieved a serve of rations from her pack, which broken in half and combined with a share of berries she had found on the way back from the stream was enough to keep their stomachs from complaining.

"You know, back in Kehjistan I used to accumulate all sorts of junk," Willow said idly as they ate. "I always figured, 'hey, it might be useful somehow', and kept everything I ever bought or found. My room back in the Order city's full of little trinkets and things that looked useful at some point, and bits and pieces from everywhere I'd been. One time we, Ember and me, we took a boat across to Lut Gholein, and I came back with a statue."

"Yep. Life-sized bust of a cat priestess – like, cat-person, not cat - with this big ornate headdress, all painted with shiny black fur and green eyes and everything. They had some trouble, back in the Reckoning, in Lut Gholein with cat people, the chaos energy from the Prime Evils turned them savage, and some caravans crossing the Aranoch desert got attacked by bands of them. There used to be lots of them living in the city as well, but when that happened either they were affected by the chaos, or they got chased out anyway, and their houses got torn down. That's what Ember told me, anyway, I think she was around there during part of it. I found this old statue in the back of this dusty little antique shop, mostly just selling junk no-one in their right mind would want, and when I mentioned I was thinking of buying it, Ember just shrugged and arranged to have it loaded on our boat for when we went back to Kurast."

"That's sad," Tara said. "About the cats, I mean, not the statue-buying, that's just adorably quirky. Are there any left?"

"In Lut Gholein, no," Willow said, "maybe somewhere in the desert, no-one knows, but there's rumors that after the Reckoning ended, the tribes out there that had survived went back to normal, but stayed out there because they were ashamed of what they'd done. There's lots in Kehjistan, all over the place – it's where they come from originally – but they keep their distance from people most of the time. Ember said they all vanished about a year before the Reckoning, as if they felt it was coming and wanted to avoid it, so they weren't driven savage like the ones in Aranoch. But they still prefer to keep to themselves, apparently, and from what Ember's told me they never came back to the big cities like Kurast in the kind of numbers they'd had once. I've actually never seen a cat person up close – there's one, a male called Night Claw, who comes to the Order every few months to exchange information, but I only ever saw him from a distance. I wish I'd met that one in Kingsport."

"Marela," Tara remembered, "well, we can see if she's still around if we ever go back there. I think she'll like you."

"Aw," Willow said, leaning in to kiss her. They finished their meal quickly, and Tara closed the shutters after one last look out at the dark landscape. She returned to the bed, where Willow had wriggled into the bedroll, and gave her a goodnight kiss on the forehead as she settled down and prodded the pack beneath her head, making it comfortable.

The moon, already some distance on its path across the night sky, shed just enough light through the cracks in the shutters for Tara to watch Willow as she settled down and soon fell asleep. She leaned back on her chair beside the bed, listening to the night-time sounds from outside. She found that, without a fire going in the hearth to warm the cabin, she actually preferred to be outside, where the sounds were a little less muffled, the breeze blew gently on her face, and all in all the world seemed a little more alive. Then again, she mused, hearing the treetops sway in the wind, it was a little more than a gentle breeze out there, and shelter from the wind and the chance of rain was not something to be scoffed at either. She wondered idly if a balcony could be added to the house by the lake back home, so they could sleep out there on calm summer nights. That led her to imagining the house populated with Willow's collection of 'trinkets and bits and pieces', which she imagined as a assortment of magical, mysterious relics of far-off lands and traditions lost in the mists of time.

Unwilling to leave Willow's side to check the sky, Tara found herself marking time by the shaft of moonlight coming through a particularly wide crack in the shutters above the bed, and hazarded a guess at where it would fall on midnight. When it reached there – the right-side edge of the fireplace – Tara waited a while longer, then reluctantly woke Willow with a kiss and swapped places with her. She was surprised and pleased when, after lying down, she felt Willow's lips against hers in a long, passionate kiss that brought to mind their brief, carefree moment by the little lake in the forest. Willow pressed another kiss, light and tender, against Tara's forehead, then gently stroked her hair as she fell asleep.

Willow unknowingly found herself constructing a similar system as Tara's to tell the time, though in her case she compared the set-up of shutter, wall and moonlight to various intricate sundials the Order kept in its libraries, which Willow had studied during the occasional periods she had gone through in which mechanisms of all sorts were the focus of her fascination. Once satisfied that she had thought through all the measurements accurately, she passed the time by going over in her mind how to best explain her drying-by-cold-variation spell, as if she were writing one of the papers that sorceresses wrote and kept in the Order libraries whenever they hit upon a particularly novel use of their elemental powers. Willow smiled to herself, imagining sorceresses the world over studying Willow's Laundry Dryer and practicing on bits of damp cloth.

She was drawn slowly out of her reverie by a vague sense of unease, and she frowned, listening intently for a sound from outside that might have disturbed her. She couldn't hear anything, no matter how hard she pushed herself to detect every tiny sound, filtering out the creaking of branches and the whistling of the wind, yet the uneasiness remained. She was on the verge of discounting it and relaxing when, at last, her ears pricked up to something from outside. Somewhere nearby, on one of the trails to the north, she had heard a footstep.

Holding her breath she turned to Tara, only to see the tiniest reflections of the moonlight on the opposite wall in her eyes. Straining her eyes, Willow saw Tara blinking in the darkness – she must have just awoken, she guessed, her honed senses alerting her even in sleep that all was not well. Willow placed a hand gently on her shoulder, and felt Tara start a little, then relax under her touch. Slowly, not making a sound, Tara slid out of the sleeping bag and crouched beside Willow's chair. Willow carefully lifted herself off the chair, thankful she had managed it without the wood creaking, and waited beside Tara, listening.

For several moments Willow could hear nothing more – had the sound been something else that she had mistaken? Or had it just come during a lull in the wind, and was now being obscured. Her hand closed around her staff, and she glanced at Tara. Tara held up a hand, just visible in the gloom, touched a finger just below her left eye, then to her left ear, then pointed across the room, towards the fireplace, northwards. Willow nodded, understanding well enough – Tara had sensed something as well.

The sound came back, just as it had been before, the dull thud of a foot on the hard-packed earth on the trail. A pause, then another thud, as if something were walking very slowly, halting each time it put one foot in front of the other. Willow's mind worked incessantly, sifting through ideas and possibilities - what could she tell from the sound? A claw? A boot? A hoof? What would each sound like, how could she tell them apart. With a frown she realized she didn't have the experience to do so – that was the kind of thing Tara had proven herself far more adept at. Yet there was no way Tara could risk making a sound. Willow glanced at her again, and drew strength from the way Tara crouched silently, alert as a hawk, but even with all her senses focused on the distant sound, aware enough of Willow to offer her a quick glance and, Willow felt, though she could not see it in the dark, a smile. She could feel the tension in Tara's body, but it wasn't the tension of a small animal fearful of a predator - Tara was tense like an athlete watching the starter's flag, waiting for it to fall, ready to explode into motion without a moment's hesitation.

The sound came closer: thud, pause, thud, pause. Willow began to hear something in the pauses, a kind of scratching, scraping sound. Thud, scrape. Something being dragged, step by step? Willow had a sudden image of a man with a twisted, lame leg, lurching forward and dragging the limb behind him – her imagination supplied rotting flesh, horns, glowing eyes, claws and all manner of demonic attributes until she clamped down on it. 'Who needs monsters when you can freak yourself out just as well?' she thought with a self-deprecating smile.

The sound was definitely coming closer – along the north path, she guessed, not that it really made a difference, but she found more use in setting her mind to drawing conclusions than imagining nightmare monsters. Thud, scrape, thud, scrape. Willow glanced at Tara nervously, and was absurdly thankful when Tara's hand found hers on the darkened floor and held on. The sound approached the cabin, coming around it to the west. The thuds grew softer, and Willow realized that it had left the path and was walking through the unkempt long grass. There was a rustle of a small plant being brushed past, then silence. Willow gulped and willed herself to remain totally silent, to be so still that even Tara's Amazon senses wouldn't detect even the faintest trace of an air current from her. She suddenly felt as though her breathing was far too loud, her chest was rising and falling too much, that the motion would give them away.

Only her determination to remain still and silent kept her from jumping when a shadow fell across one of the shafts of moonlight shining on the opposite wall. Tara's hand in hers squeezed warmly, lovingly, reassuring her and calming her at the same time. Whatever it was, it was right outside the cabin, standing by the south wall, blocking the light. One by one the shafts blacked out, then the first one reappeared as the thing moved on. Willow held her breath – it must be almost at the path leading to the door, any moment now-

Thud. It was a boot, she was sure from the sound of it against the hardened ground. Not a demon? A person? Willow wondered fitfully what to do – remain silent? Call out? Even if it wasn't a demon, that didn't mean it would be a friend. What would anyone be doing trudging slowly through the wilderness at this hour? Thud, then the dragging sound again. One more thud, one more scrape. Willow sensed rather than heard Tara raise her spear, covering the door to the hallway.

There was a faint sound from the other door, a tiny rap, as if someone were knocking but trying not to be heard. Willow wished now they had closed the front door – they had left it open, to give the impression that the cabin was just as abandoned as when they had found it, but now Willow wondered whether the thing outside was stealthily slipping through the half-open door, creeping along the hall – no, of course not, they would hear its feet on the wooden floorboards far louder than on the dirt trails outside. Again a tiny knock on the wood of the door, then a fitful scratching, scrabbling sound, as if fingers were running over the rough wood, the nails catching on knots and splinters.

Then thud, scrape…the moonlight blacked out from right to left, then appeared again. Something – an arm? – knocked against the corner of the cabin as the thing rounded it, then after a moment more of silence, again the slow, dreary footsteps sounded on the northern trail. Willow listened, trying to defy the trembling that threatened to overcome her, as the sound faded away into the distance, and finally there was nothing but the whistle of the wind, and the creaking of branches from the south.

Tara stood slowly, and Willow stood with her, still doing her best not to show her fright. She felt Tara's hand squeeze hers once, then Tara sat back down on the bed, gently tugging on Willow's arm, asking her to join her. Willow sat down at once, letting out a long, shuddering breath, and when she felt Tara against her, their arms touching as they sat side-by-side, she was surprised to feel Tara trembling just as she was. Willow reached for her, her own fear forgotten, just for a moment, and Tara reached for Willow. They stayed that way, embracing, waiting for the dawn, the rest of the night.

Author's Note: Note: Elaboration on some of the events of this and the previous chapter can be found in the accompanying short story Into The Woods. It's a Halloween story, so be warned.

Willow gave a quiet sigh as, at last, she saw sunlight filtering through the cracks in the cabin's shutters. After the night's events she hadn't felt safe so long as the dark endured – particularly when the moon set, leaving no light to see by or mark the time by its progress across the wall. Tara hadn't let her go, though Willow was relieved that she had managed a couple of hours of fitful sleep, still leaning against her shoulder, her arm curled around Willow's waist. Willow gently kissed her on the top of her head, and nudged her.

"Mmmwha?" she murmured. Willow felt her stirring, then she started, her arm tightened, and when she spoke her voice was anxious. "Willow?"

"It's alright," Willow whispered soothingly, "it's fine… just the dawn." Tara sighed and relaxed, reaching her other arm around Willow for a proper hug.

"What do you say when we get a room at the inn tonight, we leave a candle burning?" Willow suggested. Tara squeezed her gently, then disentangled herself.

"We should get going," Willow suggested automatically. "If you think it's best, I mean…I was just thinking…well, honestly, I'd kind of like to get out of here as soon as possible." Tara turned and brushed a hand gently over her cheek.

"Me too," she admitted. "And anyway, the sooner we leave, the sooner we'll get to Kotram. I'll carry our bags, you take the blankets." She glanced at the shuttered window. "I don't think there's anything around here that wants them."

Willow felt a lot more like herself once she was outside in the sunlight, trying to shake a bit more dust out of the old blankets while Tara searched her pack for something to eat to start the day. She handed Willow a packet of dried food and crouched down, inspecting the ground just outside the door.

"I'm not sure," Tara shrugged. "The ground's so packed down and dry, there's only tiny traces. Not just last night, though…I think perhaps whatever it was has been here before." She stood up with a frown. "I should've checked more thoroughly yesterday," she muttered. Willow stood beside her and touched her gently on the arm.

"Be honest," she said, "if you hadn't known for sure something had been here, would you have been able to tell just from the ground?" Tara sighed, then the tension left her shoulders.

"No," she shook her head, "no, I doubt it. Maybe with twenty years' more training."

"Then it's not your fault we didn't know," Willow said firmly, "and seeing as no harm came from it, it's not worth worrying about. Come here." Tara gratefully turned into Willow's hug, burying her face in her hair.

"I was scared," Tara admitted in a whisper, "I know it… whatever it was, it probably wasn't anything worse than what we've already faced, but…I wish we'd just come across it out in the open, in broad daylight. Seen what it was, fought it if we had to…I wish it hadn't been like that, so…slow. And hidden." Willow held her, and ran her fingers through Tara's hair soothingly.

"Me too," she said. "I wanted to just crawl into a corner and hide, but you know why I didn't?" Tara shook her head. "You," Willow said simply. "You were so alert and, and ready, I…no matter how frightening it gets, part of me always feels safe with you."

"Thank you," Tara smiled, pulling back just enough to see Willow, while remaining in her arms.

"Hey, I'm thanking you," Willow protested. She was relieved to see a genuinely amused smile on Tara's lips at that, and returned the grin when Tara leaned forward and the tips of their noses touched.

"Let's," Tara agreed. Munching their bland rations they set off, Tara carrying her satchel and pack, Willow carrying the spare blankets. She wondered if they would return to the lake to wash them – today the shadows beneath the trees didn't look so inviting – but Tara evidently felt likewise, as they skirted around the north edge of the wood, finding the stream that fed the lake a mile or so from the cabin.

"Um, I was wondering," Willow began as they soaked and wrung out the blankets, cleaning them thoroughly, "do you have any idea what that thing might have been? Not to dwell on a scary subject, you know, but the curious part of me is kind of…well, curious."

"Not that curiosity is all-important," Willow admitted, "I mean, if you don't know, my curiosity can go jump in the lake, 'cause I'm not going back just to find out…" Tara chuckled.

"I think maybe an undead," she said as they started walking again. "I could feel something very faint, almost like an echo of a living thing. It definitely wasn't a demon, I'd have known in an instant if it were. It felt like something that was part of the natural world, but not quite right." She frowned. "Undead aren't demons, are they? I mean, it's not a demon sort of inhabiting the body, or anything like that?"

"No, that's possessed," Willow said, quite casual now that her mind was working in its accustomed analytical fashion. "Undead are caused by demons, but they're not demons themselves. Usually caused by demons, that is. Humans can do it too, but that's necromancy. Normally it's the presence of demonic energy, for example," she cast an arm around, "if the area happens to contain a bunch of wretched little demon hybrids prowling around making trouble. The life force in them isn't natural – part of it is, the part that used to be a normal creature, but part of it is demonic, which is probably what you sense when you sense them."

"Got it in one," Willow agreed. "Demons being here upsets the…well, the world, I guess, the balance of nature, whatever you want to call it. Like the world is a big clockwork engine, with all the parts working together, with each other – demons are like pebbles dropped into it. They get in the gears and jam things up."

"Essentially," Willow said. "They upset all the balances in nature. And one of those balances is between life and death. Sometimes, when the balance is upset, the energy can run the wrong way – a dead body can actually gain energy, come back to life, sort of. Only there's no soul to guide it, to make it properly living, so they're just," she shrugged, "hungry. Most primitive instincts, I guess, survive and feed. That's why they attack people. But they're really not aware like people, the accounts I've read say they're prone to random behavior, suddenly turning aggressive or passive for no reason, losing control of their limbs, going berserk. Sometimes the energy in them just fails for no reason, and they fall over dead. Deader. Or re-dead. Something like that," she shrugged. "True demons can use necromantic magic deliberately, and control the undead they create, but they make lousy soldiers anyway. That's why they created hybrid demons, according to the accounts of the Sin Wars."

Tara took Willow's hand to help her up over a jagged boulder blocking their path, and kept hold as they proceeded up the slope.

"Are there really human necromancers?" she asked. "You've mentioned them once or twice, I think, but I wasn't sure if you were joking or not."

"Oh, right. They exist, somewhere. You're sure you want to know? I don't want to give you nightmares or anything…" Tara grinned and brought Willow's hand up to her lips, kissing her palm.

"Yeah, I noticed," Willow replied, licking her lips and deliberately looking elsewhere than Tara's face. Tara gave a lopsided smile and swatted Willow on the bottom. "Oh!" she exclaimed.

"Is that supposed to discourage me, though?" Willow enquired, prompting Tara to roll her eyes. "Okay, okay…let's see, necromancers. Well, for a start, I really doubt that a necromancer is what's causing all this, the one thing that's consistent about all the stories and myths about necromancers is that they hate demons, and demons hate them."

"Probably the same reason demons hate each other," Willow supposed, "they're rivals. Nothing about necromancers is really solid, all there is are legends and stories that might be true, or maybe they were true once and then got embellished over the years. The Order has some books about them, solid facts supposedly, but they're kept in a special library that only the Council is allowed into. Once or twice Ember let me look at a book from the Council library - she's not a Councilor herself, but the Council basically let her do whatever she wants, seeing as she's one of the best sorceresses there is. Those were just really advanced texts on cold magic, though, I never saw any of the necromantic volumes. But there's plenty of stories flying around, I guess there's grains of truth in most of them."

"There's a couple of Amazon myths about men who could command the dead," Tara said, "but they're really old, they're pretty much just figures of darkness, like goblins and bogeymen."

"You know, a monster in a children's story," Tara said airily. "Hide under the bed, behind the wardrobe door, that sort of thing."

"A bit," Tara said, "but in the stories they're always defeated in the end. They're usually big and scary, but afraid of people who stand up to them."

"I guess," Tara said, with a slight blush. "Mind you, some of the stories we told each other when we were kids had me hiding under the blankets now and then."

"My mother used to say an evil cow would come get me if I didn't eat my vegetables," Willow said reflectively. She noticed Tara's incredulous look. "What?"

"Yeah," Willow said defensively, "like, a cow standing on its hind legs, with a big axe, and it'd creep around the farms at night and hide outside the bedroom window, and the last thing I'd hear would be this 'moo' and then it'd be too late…" she trailed off. "Well, hey, I was five years old."

"Well it," Willow began, then frowned in thought, "I guess… hooves, huh? Actually, I don't know, I never really thought about it. Um, I guess it sort of, balanced it on its arms, I mean its fore-legs, like," she held her wrists together, miming holding something between them, "and then sort of swung it around…only it'd probably end up hitting itself…" Tara laughed and pulled Willow close for a kiss.

"But you're so adorable when you do it," Tara pointed out. Willow looked at her sidelong for a moment, then grinned.

"I love you too," Tara said fondly, "my cutest sorceress in the whole world." Willow smiled widely. "Moo," Tara added, in a quiet voice just as Willow turned away.

"Argh!" Willow groaned in mock-exasperation. "I'm never going to live this down, am I?" She watched Tara laugh, waited until she glanced away, then gave her a light whack on her leather-clad backside.

"Anyway, necromancers," Willow went on, as if nothing had happened, "there used to be mmph!" She was cut off as Tara leaned over and kissed her firmly on the lips.

"I love being with you," Tara said softly, no longer teasing at all, but with gentle humor shining in her eyes.

"What was I saying? Oh, yeah…okay, according to the legends – the ones that might be a bit reliable on some level, anyway – there used to be a whole cult of mages who practiced necromantic magic. They lived somewhere out in Kehjistan, really deep in the jungles where it's dangerous to go, far away from Kurast or the other cities. Of course the other mage clans wouldn't have anything to do with them, I mean, no surprise there…but there was kind of a hierarchy, the most powerful necromancers ruling the others, I guess because they could control the biggest armies of undead."

"Only in stories," Willow said with a vague wave of her hand, "you know the kind of thing, the noble prince has his princess stolen away by necromancers who want to sacrifice her for…I don't know, something or other…and he has to track them down and rescue her. All pretty fanciful, just stuff made up by people who didn't know the first thing about necromancy… well, that's not a surprise, I guess. But for real, no-one knows. According to the histories the Zakarum church declared a holy war on them a couple of centuries ago and send an army of paladins out to track them down and destroy them."

"They didn't find anything," she said. "Not really good story material…actually I read one book that said the same army went out again, determined not to fail a second time, and they were never heard from again. But that's definitely made up, because several of the more reliable histories actually name some of the paladins who were in the army, and they were involved in other campaigns at the same time as they were supposed to be out in the jungle being overwhelmed by armies of darkness."

"But the story of the army that trudged through the jungle for a few weeks and then came home without finding anything doesn't really work for a bard," Tara grinned.

"Officially, the Order maintains that there are still necromancers somewhere. Probably there's just a few, maybe a dozen or so. Even an army couldn't find a dozen people hiding in the Kehjistan jungle, it's just too big. There was a story that said the necromancers had a huge city, deep in the jungle, called Rathma, this great big empire of the undead that they ruled. Even in the jungle the paladins would have found that, if it really existed."

"Probably," Willow agreed, "I mean, what good is a big scary sorcerer if he doesn't have a creepy lair with giant spiders and spooky architecture and stuff? I tell ya, I wouldn't like to be a bard plying my trade if the best I had to work with was 'Prince Charming ventured forth into the spooky camp site in a jungle clearing to rescue has maiden.' But yeah, what it boils down to is, necromantic magic is real, necromancers are real, but if you're seeing undead it's a whole lot more likely that it's demons causing it."

With the sun still rising in the east Willow and Tara reached the crest of the rise, and looked out over the landscape beyond. Willow glanced back, over the valley behind them to the ridge they had stood on the day before.

"I don't mean to sound condescending," she began hesitantly, "but you're really keeping up well. I mean, I've had plenty of proof you're energetic," she added with a sly grin, "but this kind of thing isn't easy if you're not used to it."

"I've had a bit of training," Willow said as they started down towards the grassy plain, "mostly just general keep-fit stuff with the Order. Healthy body, healthy mind, and all that. Though just between you and me, I like our way of being energetic a lot more than fitness training."

"Me too," Tara smiled, "I'd recommend it to Solari, but I'm keeping you to myself."

"Darn right you are," Willow grinned. "I used to have to walk a fair bit anyway. Some of the trips Ember would take me on were to places that weren't really easily accessible. Take a boat as far up river as it went, then walk the rest of the way to some tribal village where they've never seen stone buildings or steel weapons. Spending half a day tramping through a steaming jungle makes temperate grasslands look pretty inviting by comparison."

"Oh, like you wouldn't believe," Willow said. "It's not so bad downriver near Kurast, or around the Order's city, but when you get into the deep jungle it's stinking hot, so humid you feel like you can't breathe…" she made a face. "There were times when I'd flare off magic just to cool myself down."

"If you ever meet her, don't tell her I said this," Willow warned, "but I think she kind of likes being the go-anywhere do-anything sorceress who never gets bothered by anything. I asked her if the heat was getting to her once when we were up-river, and she said she'd been in hotter places. The Aranoch desert, I guess. I've never been into the desert itself, just to Lut Gholein which is on the coast, but it was hot enough there. After we'd been there I stopped complaining about going up-river."

"Magic," Willow said, "always magic. Sometimes I think Ember personally knows every single mage in all of Sanctuary. Everywhere we went she'd bring me to see people, from all the mage clans, and all sorts of other mages. The Order doesn't strictly approve of training with outside mages, unless they've gone through some exhaustive approval process with the Council, but Ember just does what she likes and no-one ever objects."

"Not that different to what you're doing now. What you're *supposed* to be doing now," Tara corrected herself.

"Yeah," Willow agreed thoughtfully, "yeah, it is…I wonder if she meant it that way?"

"I was just thinking," Willow said, "if I hadn't, you know, got into that mess in Entsteig, I wonder if Ember was going to take me on a trip like this anyway…then I'd have met you anyway," she added with a grin.

"Yeah, it is," Willow agreed, "maybe there's something in this destiny stuff after all. Heh, I wonder how Ember got the Council to decide to order me to do something she was going to have me do anyway. That'd be just like her, always half a dozen steps ahead. Next time I see her I'm teaching her your Command game, I bet she'll pick it up right away."

"I'd like to meet her," Tara said softly. Willow looked sidelong at her, smiling.

"I'll make sure you do," she promised. She kept her gaze on Tara for a moment as they continued down the slope. "You're not tired, are you?" she asked. "You didn't get much sleep. Do you want to stop for a bit?"

"You look like maybe you could use it," Willow added, as they continued a little way further down to a suitable scatter of rocks half-buried in the slope. Tara sat down, and held out an arm for Willow to sit with her, nestled up against her.

"Yeah, well," Tara said vaguely, "creepy stalking undead-things don't make for a restful sleep. Tonight will be better."

"Yup," Willow agreed, "nice hot bath, and then a loooong rest for both of us. I've missed sleeping with you cuddled up against me."

"And then when we wake up," Willow went on, with a thoughtful grin, "we can take advantage of the other benefits of sharing a bed…and then have another nice long nap after we're all tired out…or maybe another bath together…back to bed…"

"Someone's imagination is running full speed," Tara said, nuzzling into the side of Willow's neck. "What if there's a rider from the caravan waiting for us, and we have to set off right away?"

"Oh now that just wouldn't be fair," Willow proclaimed. She paused, and peered out into the distance. "You don't see any riders, do you?"

"Too far," Tara said, "I can see the villages and the keep, nothing smaller. No towers though, it's not a castle…"

"One advantage to studying with a go-anywhere do-anything sorceress like Ember," Willow said, flipping pages idly, "she's gone everywhere and done everything." Tara stared out into the distance again, as Willow skimmed through the pages.

"I wonder if it's a church, or a temple of some sort," she said to herself. "At home some of our outlying towns are built around a temple, it's always the biggest, strongest building."

"I don't see anything," Willow said after a moment's searching, "maybe it just wasn't notable enough for Ember to write down. I'm sure she's traveled through Westmarch at some point. Or maybe she came a different way, along the river or something." Tara nodded, but something had caught her eye. Willow noticed her attention waver, and looked up.

"Something," Tara said, "I can't quite tell…" She gazed up into the cloudless sky. Willow followed her gaze, but couldn't see anything.

"A few," Willow said, her hand closing around her staff, "small ones, like birds."

"It's coming closer," Tara said, "hold this…" Willow took her spear, and watched as Tara stood and drew her bow from her back. She gave a quick glance to the sky, where Tara was staring, but couldn't see anything.

"I can feel it more strongly," Tara said, nocking an arrow to her string, "it's not a natural animal…" She aimed, and Willow again stared into the sky. She imagined she could just see a tiny speck, moving in the blue, then Tara fired, and her arrow shot away, quickly becoming just a speck itself.

"I'll take your word for it," Willow said, impressed. "You could see that? I just saw a dot, and I'm not even sure I saw that."

"I saw its wings," Tara said, "and I felt it. It was like a bird of prey, but…hateful. Birds don't hate, they just hunt because it's how they live."

"How could you sense that?" Willow asked, getting to her feet and handing Tara her spear back. Tara shrugged.

"Instinct," she said, "the way it moved. I'm not really sure." Willow leant against her back and hugged her.

"We should probably see what it was," Willow said with a frown, "not that I think a skewered demon bird sounds inviting, but we might learn a thing or two if I can figure out what kind of creature it was."

"Well, I'm ready," Tara said, "let's go then." Willow nodded and they set off again, Tara slotting her bow back into place on her back, Willow returning the journal to its pouch. On glancing at Tara, she noticed her looking somewhat disturbed.

"Oh, just thinking," she said, "you know, I was sent here – on the diplomatic mission, I mean – because Solari didn't think I had the 'killer instinct' to be a soldier. I guess she was wrong." She sounded less than pleased, and Willow immediately put a hand on her shoulder, hoping to comfort her.

"You're bothered that you shot a demon?" she asked, hoping for a grin. Tara just shrugged.

"Not really," she said unconvincingly. She glanced at Willow and saw in her eyes that she hadn't reassured her. "It's just how it happened," she said, "I sensed it, and the moment it was close enough - boom," she mimed firing an arrow. Willow trailed her fingers down Tara's arm and took her hand.

"Why does that bother you?" she asked. "It's not as though it might have been a peaceful demon. There's no such thing. Trust me, I know."

"I know," Tara said, managing a small smile for Willow, "I know…I just never really imagined I could be that…efficient."

"It's not the first time," Willow pointed out gently, "the Carvers that attacked us…"

"That was different," Tara said with a shake of her head, "they were attacking us."

"This one would've," Willow said with certainty. "Believe me, you didn't kill a harmless animal, or something that might've just flown by and left us, or anyone else, alone. Look at me," she insisted, gently halting Tara and turning her so they stood face to face. "It was a demon. I've studied them, I've read the journals of hundreds of sorceresses who've fought them for centuries, and I've seen one of the biggest, nastiest ones right up close. They don't belong here. They don't create, they don't nurture, they don't respect anything that does. They're absolutely not worth feeling the least bit guilty over, especially not when you're out in the wilderness being chased by them, and especially not for the most compassionate, gentle, noble person I have ever known." Tara looked surprised at Willow's vehemence, then an odd, sad smile came over her face.

"You're welcome," Willow replied, brushing the corner of her lips with her thumb. "Better?"

"Better," Tara said gratefully. "I guess…I just needed to hear that. Reassure myself I'm not turning into something I'd rather not be."

"You're not," Willow said as they continued down the hill, "you're so not. You may be coming to terms with the dangers out here, and adapting to them, but you will never, ever become careless with life. I just can't believe you have it in you. And I certainly haven't seen any evidence of it. Trust me, if I did, I wouldn't hide it from you."

The creature had fallen in a disorderly heap, pierced through the body and quite dead. Willow knelt down to examine it, while Tara maintained a distance that kept her from smelling the black fluid leaking out of it.

"It's a blood hawk," Willow said, "a bit of a big one, according to the texts I've read. Wingspan's almost a meter." She poked it with the tip of her staff, and shrugged as the patch of wing she touched disintegrated into a small puddle of goo. "Yuck. Do you want the arrow back?"

"Um, i-if it's possible without either of us having to touch that thing," Tara said hesitantly.

"I think I can manage that," Willow said, flexing her hand. She directed a stream of condensation down onto the dead creature, freezing it solid. A tiny shard of ice leapt from her palm and struck the icy mass, shattering it into a small pile of cracked pieces, from which Willow withdrew the arrow. She inspected it, aimed a quick burst of cold over the shaft and head to clean off any remaining black blood, then handed it back to Tara, who took it gingerly.

"They're scavengers," Willow explained as they set off, now near the base of the hill and the beginning of the plain, "the small ones feed on dead animals, but once they get bigger they go after larger prey, and living creatures. They're pretty common, not much of a threat on their own. Farmers sometimes organize armed parties to find their nests, where there's usually a bunch of them hanging around. They're not difficult to kill, just pesky. Fast little things, and vicious."

"Nah," Willow replied, "sketches of them, in the bestiaries the Order keeps in its libraries. One of them had really detailed drawings someone had done of a dead one being dissected, that wasn't exactly the most fun thing I've ever read. Put me off my lunch. They say their claws can be used as charms, but only if you can get them off while they're still alive. Not very powerful anyway."

"You'll know if you see one," Willow promised, "big, slimy, pulsating masses of yuck."

"Sorry," Willow said with an apologetic smile. "With luck we won't see one, they don't usually nest on plains anyway. They're supposed to prefer more secluded places, where they won't be easy to find. It's not difficult for half a dozen men to get a few swords and smash up a nest, so they don't build them where they're likely to be found. They're not intelligent at all, but they've got enough animal instinct for that."

"Well, I guess that's one less for some farmer to deal with," Tara said with a glance over her shoulder. In a few paces they reached level ground, and Tara took a deep breath.

"Uh-huh," Tara said, "only an hour's walk or so. Do you want to stop for an early lunch, or finish it off now?"

"Let's go for the town," Willow said with a grin, "I wouldn't mind lunch to include a table and hot food, how about you?"

"Lunch including me?" Tara smiled slyly. "I like the sound of that." Willow laughed.

"Well then, let's go," Willow said, looping her arm through Tara's elbow, "the sooner we're there the sooner we can have lunch. And then dessert," she added with a sidelong grin.

The road to the west-most of the villages surrounding Kotram ran away to the south, so Willow and Tara had to skirt around the high wood and earth wall to reach the gate.

"Looks like they're used to keeping trouble at bay," Tara commented, glancing at the protective wall. Hard-packed earth rose up two meters, sharply slanted and reinforced with wooden spikes driven through it. From the top of that, a wall of three meter long trunks rose up, their tips sharpened to points. There were more than a couple of scratches and marks in the wood, but they were big, sturdy trunks, and nowhere in the wall was there any sign of serious damage.

"Suits me fine," Willow said, "I could do with a big wall between me and open ground for a while."

"Me too," Tara agreed, "sleeping under the stars is a lot nicer back home where you can do it without being interrupted by things that go bump in the night."

"Or be interrupted when we're going bump in the night," Willow added, prompting a laugh from Tara.

"Yes, or that-…oh," Tara said, training off as she rounded the reinforced wooden pillar at the side of the gate and looked through, into the village. Willow noticed her expression, incomprehension mixed with shock, and quickly came to her side to see for herself.

"Oh hell," she said flatly. As far as they could see, across the village square, in the tavern, the store-houses, the barns and stables, and the houses and workshops, there was not a soul in sight. The village was completely empty.

Willow and Tara walked slowly forward, each peering into every alley and doorway inside the gates, searching for any sign of life. A thought occurred to Tara, and she turned around to inspect the gates themselves.

"The gates," Tara explained, "there's no damage. No broken timbers, the beam is intact."

"Or it was so sudden they didn't have time to bar the gates," Tara frowned. "Can you see any signs of fighting?"

Willow joined Tara in surveying as much of the village as they could see. She pointed out a door here and there that hung open, and venturing closer to the nearest building, a small general store, they saw the latch had been broken, as if the door was kicked in. Inside the shelves were bare, and on the floor lay scattered piles of produce and dry goods. A chair was turned over, several glasses had fallen to the floor and shattered, but among the debris there were no signs of actual fighting - no nicks in the counter to indicate a sword had struck, no furniture or tabletops shattered as if an axe had struck them, no blood stains on the wooden floor.

"What happened?" Willow wondered aloud. Tara shrugged, her worried gaze taking in every detail she could see.

"Maybe the townspeople thought it was getting too dangerous out here?" Willow said, picking up a wooden plate and turning it over thoughtfully. "They packed up and went somewhere else? Maybe they're in the keep on the hill?"

"They didn't pack up," Tara said, "they'd have taken the food, not left it here to rot." She poked a moldy loaf of bread with the toe of her boot. "This doesn't make sense, if they were attacked they'd have barred the gates and tried to hold out until help could come."

"Maybe they saw their attackers coming out on the plains," Willow suggested, "they had enough time to get everyone out?" Tara shook her head thoughtfully.

"It takes longer than you'd think to evacuate a village this size," she said, "back home, if we're threatened, all the adults know what to do, who looks after the children and gets them to safety, who packs up all the supplied that can be moved, who helps the elderly…it all has to be planned. For a village like this," she shrugged, "maybe I'm wrong, but it doesn't look like the kind of place where they'd be that prepared to move. It would have taken too long, and unless the enemy was very slow they'd have arrived…there'd at least have been signs of fighting outside, where the rearguard protected the last of the villagers as they escaped."

She checked a handful of the fallen items beneath the shelves, finding the food too spoiled to take, and stood up with a forlorn expression. Willow took her hand and followed her back outside, where they made for a smith's forge a few doors away.

"Maybe they did just decide to leave," Tara went on, though she didn't sound convinced, "maybe they knew about the demons out there, and figured they'd be safer in the keep, and they should leave the village before they were directly under threat."

"Do you think that's likely?" Willow asked. Tara shook her head morosely. "Me neither," Willow went on, "besides, the Kingsway Highlands had their share of trouble during the Reckoning. They weren't involved in the worst of it, with the Prime Evils, but there were more demons than they could comfortably deal with, according to the records the Order kept. They wouldn't have forgotten how to take care of themselves this quickly."

"It's as if they just," Tara mimed a bubble bursting, "poof! Vanished into thin air." She looked inside the smithy, and her frown deepened. Willow followed her gaze, and her shoulders slumped.

"There's no way anyone would have left this behind," Tara said, leaning over to pick up a sword, half out of its scabbard, from where it had fallen on the ground. She leant the sword against the forge itself, and lay her hand against its stones.

"Cold," she said, "I didn't think anyone had been here for at least a few days, but that confirms it." Willow looked around, counting on her fingers.

"…demons wouldn't bother," Willow finished, "you're right. Carvers have been here, or something like them."

"I doubt it," she said, pointing, "look over there, polearms." Tara followed Willow's gaze and saw a stack of simple halberds stacked in a corner. "Goat-men would have taken those, they're supposed to prefer two-handed weapons. Less speed, more power. Probably one of those Carver bands we saw the tracks of up on the ridge." She and Tara returned to the open, and Willow followed Tara across the square to the small village church.

"We shouldn't stay here," Tara said quickly, "but I want to try to find out what happened, why the village is like this."

"Agreed," Willow said, "even if it was Carvers that came through here, that doesn't explain how the village was overrun, or why the gates weren't closed. Besides, there'd have to be a hundred of them before they'd dare attack a place this size. What are we looking for?" Tara pushed open the door of the church and looked around inside, noting the building was largely untouched, though the pews were in places scratched and broken, and one of the tapestries adorning the walls had been torn.

"Back home each of the smaller villages keeps its own records," Tara said, "sort of like a journal of the village's life. They record when visitors pass through, when the harvests are taken in, any notable events, that sort of thing. I want to see if these people kept anything like that."

"Some of the towns we passed through in Entsteig did the same sort of thing," Willow said, joining Tara in searching the long church hall's shelves on either side of the pews, which mostly contained old maps and scrolls. "A few of them had us all sign our names when we stayed the night."

"Here," Tara said after a moment, "this looks likely." She took the last one of a series of identical tomes from a far shelf and opened it on the table at the end of the hall, beneath a wooden Zakarum cross. Willow looked over her shoulder, scanning through the neatly recorded dates and notes, all written in the same heavy hand.

"Two weeks," Willow agreed, "'Arrival of Tomas, brother of our smith Piter, from Harthim. Excess grain from harvest sent to monastery for safe-keeping.' That must be the monastery up on the hill. That's it?" She turned the next couple of pages, finding them blank. "The blacksmith's brother shows up and they send some food up to the monastery? What about 'Evacuating village now, sorry we missed you'?"

"No pages have been torn out," Tara mused, "and you're right, I'm sure they wouldn't have left without someone at least leaving a record of where they were going." Willow frowned, and absently toyed with a corner of the frayed carpet with her boot.

"What do we do now?" Tara paused, leaned against the table, and thought for a moment.

"We'll check the monastery," she said, "if a rider from the caravan came here and found the place like this, that's where he'd have gone. If not…" she trailed off.

"I don't know," Tara admitted, "something's not right. If this happened two weeks ago, but they didn't know about it in Harthim - and I'm sure they'd have mentioned it if they did - that means no-one from here reached there. If they went to the monastery to hide, surely they'd have sent a rider to the nearest safe town."

"The monastery?" Willow asked. "It's stone, and those places are built like fortresses, the demons can't have got in there…could they?" Tara shook her head again.

"I don't know," she repeated. "If the monastery isn't safe, I think we should head for the river, and try to get on a boat going to Duncraig."

"It's four days to Harthim from here," Tara said, "that's if we take the road, which leaves us visible. If we go across country, maybe five days. The river is only two days away, and you saw how many boats are traveling along it. I think that's what we should do."

"Okay," Willow agreed, "then that's what we'll do." Tara nodded, took Willow's hand, and together they left the church.

"Wait a moment," Tara said as they reached the street, "we should check the stores, just in case there's dried food we can take. We might run low on rations if we have to make for the river." Willow nodded, and they moved towards a pair of storehouses on either side of the road, just beyond the square. Willow poked her head through the door, which hung ajar, and found the shelves had been swept clean, their former contents scattered on the ground, barrels broken open, sacks of grain slashed. A cursory examination yielded nothing worth taking, so she sighed and came back to the door.

She saw Tara leaning on the wall of the building she had gone into, breathing deeply and staring off into the sky. Tara's eyes fixed on Willow, and she quickly came to meet her halfway across the street, taking her shoulders.

"We h-have to l-leave," she said, as Willow glanced at the door of the storehouse behind her.

"What?" Willow exclaimed, keeping her voice down. She ducked around Tara, making for the door, but Tara's hand closed around her arm and held her in a grip that, gentle as it was, was unbreakable.

"They're dead," Tara said quietly. Willow studied her expression, and a chill crept over her.

"Let's just go," she said. Willow nodded, and they jogged towards the village gates. Tara stopped in her tracks as they were almost at the gate, holding out an arm to stop Willow, who almost ran into her.

"Something's out there," she said at Willow's confused look, "I'm not sure what…I think it might be Carvers."

"How many?" Willow whispered. Tara closed her eyes, and Willow held herself still, not wanting to interfere with Tara's concentration.

"Lots," Tara said darkly, "to the south, coming this way." She cautiously edged to the gate and peered around it.

"Damn," she said quietly, pulling back. Willow looked, keeping herself as much out of sight as she could. On the horizon, spread out on either side of the road leading away from the village, dark shapes were moving closer. She saw a pair of crude banners raised on standards, flapping in the breeze, and on either side, a hundred meters or so distant from the main group, small handfuls of the creatures kept pace with them.

"Will they see us?" Willow wondered. "They move faster than goat-men, I don't think we'll outrun them."

"If we go out, we'll have to fight," Tara said as Willow ducked back. "They're too far spread out to miss us, and it's open ground anyway, they're sure to see us."

"Can we take that many?" Willow asked. "I think there's two old ones, probably magic users. It might take a minute or two for me to get rid of them."

"I'm not sure I can hold off the others for that long," Tara said quickly. "Do these villages have a back gate? They can't just have the one gate, can they?"

"I don't know," Willow said, "come on, let's find out while we've got time. If we have to fight, we'd be better off in here, where they won't be able to come at us all at once." She and Tara took off at a run, dodging between the church and the village tavern, through an alley, into the street running behind them, and between a pair of houses. Beyond those were crude sheds, intended only to keep stores dry and out of the wind, and they backed onto the village's wall.

"Where's the back gate?" Willow complained, looking frantically from side to side. "You've got to have a back gate, otherwise you get trapped in when someone shows up and lays siege to the place and damn it!"

"I don't see anything we could use to climb over," Tara said quickly. Willow turned around, her back to the earth wall, and thought furiously.

"Okay," she said, her brow furrowed, "Carvers have already been here, right? And there's a bunch of them coming. What're the odds it's two separate groups?"

"No way to tell," Tara said, "there might be more than one band of them, or it might just be the same one coming back. Why would they come back?"

"They sometimes take over abandoned towns," Willow explained briefly, "for protection during the day, and to store food. If it's the same band as looted the place originally, that means they won't stay, they'll leave again once it's dark, and we'll be able to get out safely once they're gone!"

"You mean hide?" Tara asked, skeptical. "Would it be safe? What if they find us?" Willow took her hand and led her back between the storehouses, towards the village square.

"I think I saw a trapdoor in the church," she said, "it hadn't been disturbed. They think the place is deserted, they won't search it again. We haven't left any trace of us being here, have we?"

"Not much," Tara said, her mind working fast, "maybe a footprint, a couple of things moved…we took that book off its shelf."

"They won't notice," Willow said, "I'm sure they won't, Carvers aren't smart enough to notice things like that, I'm sure." They reached the square and darted inside the church, running along between the pews to the end of the hall. Willow reached for the carpet, hesitated, grabbed the book and shoved it back on its shelf, then bent down and drew the carpet back. Beneath there was a trapdoor, made from heavy wood bracketed with iron, unscarred and dusty around the heavy iron ring that would open it. Together they managed to heave the door open, and Tara held it while Willow stepped onto the sturdy ladder within and looked down.

"Nothing's damaged down here," she said, turning back to Tara and helping hold the door. "What do you think?" Tara thought for a moment.

"It's our best option," she said, "I don't think we can get out without being seen, and the odds aren't in our favor in a running battle. Can you hold the door for a moment?" Willow braced herself and kept the door open, while Tara dragged the carpet up over it. Handing Willow her spear, she climbed with her onto the ladder, and slowly they lowered the trapdoor down as they descended.

"I can hear them," Tara said softly, "at the gate. I think they're coming in." She reached over and tugged on the edges of the rug, hanging over the sides of the door, straightening it so it would lie flat, as it had been before, once the door was shut.

"Their eyesight's decent, but they can't smell or hear too well," Willow whispered, "so long as they don't see us we'll be alright."

"Memorize the cellar," Tara said, "there won't be much light, not enough for you to see by."

"You?" Willow asked, glancing down, noting the positions of barrels, crates and the walls relative to the bottom of the ladder.

"Mind your fingers," Willow warned, as Tara reached through the narrowing gap between the floor and the lowering trapdoor, ensuring there would be no evidence the carpet had been moved. Tara gave a thumbs-up, and together they gently lowered the door closed, plunging the cellar into darkness.

Moving carefully, testing each step they descended the ladder and finally reached the floor. Tara heard the slight sound as Willow lowered the blankets and satchel she was carrying, and a moment later felt her spear against her hand. She took it and switched it to her other hand, wanting to keep hold of Willow until her eyes adjusted. She blinked in the gloom, finding the light even more elusive than she had thought. On the one hand that was good - the less light was being let in, the fewer cracks there were for a stray sound to escape - but Tara had always found it disconcerting to have to navigate by tracker senses, imagining the shape of her surroundings more by the way the air circulated when she moved. Here and there a tiny shaft of light ventured through the floorboards, but they were few and far between.

She felt Willow turn her hand over, and then a fingertip was tracing against her palm: 's-e-e', then a question mark. Tara blinked again, doing her best to focus her senses, and found she could tell at least where the walls were, as well as get a rough idea what was open space and what was blocked by crates. She traced a 'y' on Willow's palm, and felt a reassuring squeeze of her hand in return.

Tara led Willow across the floor and gently pulled her down, helping her spread out the blankets to provide some comfort as they sat. She carefully laid her spear on the ground, and her bow, memorizing exactly where they were so that she could snatch them up again at a moment's notice.

For a little while all was silent in the hall above them, and only Tara's superior hearing allowed her to detect the faintest hint of movement from the street outside. She felt Willow lean against her, and gratefully put an arm around her shoulders, the close contact between them reassuring her. Then both women tensed as there came the dull sound of claws tapping on wooden floorboards. Tara's hand went to her spear, and she felt a vague sensation of gathering power from Willow beside her. More and more footsteps came, some of them from directly above, but the trapdoor remained undisturbed, and the little cracks of daylight in the floorboards remained cut off abruptly around the door, indicating the carpet hadn't been moved. In spite of the continued presence above them, Tara relaxed a little, and felt Willow do likewise.

Up above there seemed to be some commotion. Snarling and chittering echoed down, a sort of guttural language composed of sharp, harsh sounds, accompanied by what seemed to be a background chorus of hissing from other voices. Occasionally there was a growling shout, and the other voices would join in. Now and then a sharp sound echoed through the cellar, as if something heavy were being rapped on the floor. For a nervous moment Tara wondered if the creatures were testing the floor, looking for cellars such as the one they were in, but when nothing came of it she decided it had to be something else - a gesture of authority? She imagined the old Carvers slamming the hafts of their standards on the ground as they snarled and barked at their tribes.

Being so close to Willow, Tara sensed at once when she moved her arm, and so was not startled when she felt her fingertip on her palm again, tracing letters. She concentrated, having missed the first letter but catching the others: 'l-d,' she traced, then a tap, then 'o-n-e-s,' tap, 'a-r-g-u-i-n-g.' Figuring out Willow's system - the taps were spaces - she re-imagined the scene above, now with two old Carvers growling at each other, as the tribe divided up behind them, snarling support or derision. She realized suddenly that, unless Willow were guessing - and she wouldn't have gone to the trouble of laboriously conveying it to Tara, if it were just a random guess - she must have been able to understand the creatures' language. Tara's respect for the Zann Esu's teaching, already high on the evidence of Willow's broad and often encyclopedic knowledge, increased again.

Up above, the argument seemed to suddenly escalate, with a crash as something - probably one of the pews, Tara guessed - tipped over, to a general accompaniment of growls and shouts. A rhythmic chanting began, raw and primal, accented by the stamping of many clawed feet. A couple of the tiny cracks of light wavered as something passed above them, then a moment later there was a great cheer, and a screech of pain.

Tara pushed her senses as far as they would go, preparing for the possibility that, somehow, the fight above might somehow give away her and Willow's hiding place - a scrabbling claw catching the edge of the carpet, perhaps, or even a falling body breaking a floorboard, though she allowed that was unlikely, given the size of the Carvers, and the sturdy construction of the church hall. She frowned, trying to place something that didn't quite seem right - 'Then again,' she mused to herself, 'what is it supposed to feel like when you're hiding under the floor with demons fighting up above?' Willow seemed to be taking the situation with more calm, remaining alert but not unduly tense at Tara's side.

The combatants seemed to have come to grips properly, to judge by the raucous cheering and shrieking. There was the thud of a body falling, far off to one side of the trapdoor thankfully, a hasty scrambling noise, a brief pause, then a clang of blades. The swords clashed twice more, then there was another pained shriek, and a cheer.

'The same one as got hurt before?' Tara wondered. 'Or are they even now?' She mentally shook herself, reminding herself that it hardly mattered how the duel was going, so long as she and Willow remained undiscovered.

For a few seconds there were only footsteps, and Tara imagined the combatants circling each other, then the noise of the other creatures died down, there was a breathless pause, and a body hit the floor. Tara let out a breath as the silence ended with another cheer, slowly turning into more chanting. She felt Willow lean back against the wall beside her, and acknowledged that the end of the fight above did seem to ease the tension down below. If anything, perhaps now the creatures would be too enthused with cheering the victor to devote any of their marginal brainpower to searching the building any further than they had already done. She relaxed too, and reached around Willow with both arms, holding her close.

"Love you," she whispered in a tiny voice, quite sure the raucous yelling in the hall above would prevent her being overheard. Willow's arm snaked around her waist, her other hand on Tara's arm as it crossed her chest, and she hugged Tara tightly in response.

For the next few minutes they remained still and silent, listening as the sounds above dwindled into chittering exchanges, and the footsteps became fewer. There was a muffled dragging sound and a thud at one point, from roughly where the loser of the combat had fallen, and Tara wondered idly, with black humor, if Carvers buried their dead or ate them. From what she had seen in the storehouse - and she did her best not to dwell on that - they had no compunctions about eating anything else.

Something still nagged her senses, and to keep herself from thinking too much about the Carvers and the fate of the people who had lived in the village above, Tara let her thoughts dwell on the space around her and Willow, wondering what it was she felt. The air was almost still now that neither of them were moving, and she had only the vaguest sense of where the walls and crates were, mostly from the tiny amount light shining through the floorboards above. With a jolt she realized what it was - the air was moving, a tiny, almost imperceptible motion where there should have been none.

Willow's grip tightened as she felt Tara's surprise, and Tara took a moment to reassure her silently, stroking her side and back. She felt Willow's head, tucked in against her shoulder, nod once, and returned her attention to the tremor in the air. For a moment she wondered if, unlikely though it was, there was something else in the cellar with them, but she immediately discarded that thought - the motion was too regular. It was almost like - Tara frowned in thought - like a breeze, the kind of thing that, had she been outside, she would have ignored without even thinking about it, filtering it out so that she could more readily sense other things. 'But in here,' she thought, 'there shouldn't be any breeze at all. You don't get breezes in sealed cellars, only in…tunnels,' she finished with a widening of her eyes. She gently took Willow's hand.

'W-a-i-t,' she traced on it, feeling Willow nod again that she understood. Making no sound at all Tara extracted herself from Willow's arms and got to her feet, picking up her spear just in case. She took a step forward, then another, and suddenly she could actually feel the air moving against her face. She turned towards the movement, and gingerly walked towards the wall of the cellar, slowly feeling her way with each step just in case there was some obstruction on the ground she hadn't already detected.

She came to the wall and, holding the spear in the crook of one arm, laid both her palms on it and felt around experimentally. She worked her way along the stone surface, following the tiny breeze, until she reached a stack of crates. She slipped her hand between them and the wall, and with a start felt her fingers touch wood, not stone, behind them. She felt around for a moment, tracing the edge of the wood, where it met the stone - it was sturdy, thick… she felt cold metal under her fingers, and examining it in the dark, realized it was a hinge. A door.

Quickly she returned to Willow, gently taking her hand as she saw, by a thin ray of light, Willow sensing her approach and reaching out for her. She sat down and curled Willow's fingers over, except for one which she pointed at the crates, then she opened her hand and traced 'd-o-o-r.'

Willow kept herself calm, but Tara could nevertheless feel her sudden excitement. Willow guided her hand first to her own chest, then Tara's, then pointed both their hands where Tara had indicated. Tara drew their joined hands to her cheek and, when they were touching, nodded so Willow could feel it. Together they stood and moved over to the stack of crates concealing the doorway.

Tara guided Willow's hands to the concealed doorway, and waited as she examined it. Willow turned back to her, taking her hand, and touched it to the crates. Tara nodded, forgetting that Willow likely couldn't see her at all, and moved to the other side of the stack. Careful not to make any noise, she lifted the first of the three crates off the other two, feeling Willow lifting the other side of it. Slowly, tentatively guided by each other's movements, they moved a few paces away from the wall and gingerly lowered their burden to the ground.

It was the work of a few moments to move the other two crates, and then Tara and Willow both traced the outline of the revealed door with their fingers. There was no latch, but when Tara experimentally put her weight against the door and pushed, it shifted slightly. Willow felt the heavy door move, and joined Tara in pushing against it. Together they managed to open it inwards about a third of its travel, before Tara froze as the hinges let out a warning creak. Willow's hands flew off the door as if it were hot, and Tara knew they couldn't risk moving it any further. With one hand on the edge of the door and one on the stone wall of the tunnel, she guessed there was just enough space to slip through the gap.

She took Willow's hand and together they went back to where they had left their blankets and bags, gathering them up quickly and quietly. Tara went through the door first, spear held protectively in front of her, and let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding as she managed to wriggle through without causing more than a tiny scratching sound between the back of her armor and the wall. She reached through the door and took the bags that Willow handed to her, setting them down around her feet as she learned what she could of the tunnel she had stepped into.

The breeze flowing through the tunnel was steady and, now that she was through the door, quite strong. Tara had a sensation of a long space ahead of her, and the air had a chilly bite to it that made her think of subterranean caverns. She bent down and felt the floor, finding it smooth and, more surprisingly, paved. Feeling around, Tara felt a strange indentation in one of the pavers, far too regularly-formed to have been caused by wear or damage, but otherwise there were no irregularities in the surface. She stood again as she felt Willow slip through the doorway behind her.

"What is it?" Willow asked in a whisper, after taking Tara's arm and guiding her behind the door, to contain the sound as much as possible.

"I wouldn't have thought so in a village this size," Willow said. "Do you see any tombs? In the walls maybe?"

"I can't see much," Tara murmured, "just feel the air moving." For a moment she was silent, then Willow grabbed her arm excitedly.

"Back gate," she whispered, "if there's air moving, this has to come out somewhere, right?"

"This must be the back gate," Willow went on, "it's a tunnel to outside the village, so they can't be trapped in!"

"Help me close the door," Tara said, "we'll move the crates back then close the door behind them. Even if those things find the cellar, they might not search it too carefully, and that'll buy us time."

"Okay," Willow said, in lieu of a nod. Together they carefully moved the crates back as close as they could, risking a scraping sound now and then as they pulled all three close to the wall once they had both scrambled back through the doorway. The hinges let out a tiny creak as they started to move, but then the door swung back into place silently. Pushing against the back of it, Tara felt an odd feature, a wooden beam attached vertically to the door.

"Wait a moment," she said as Willow turned away. She heard Willow stop, but she didn't seem alarmed - probably because Tara had sounded more curious than concerned. Tara ran her hands over the door, feeling the shape of the strange attachment. She found hinges at the bottom and a latch at the top, and with a dawning understanding of its purpose she undid the latch and lowered the beam, feeling its base nudge up against the surface of the door just as the end slid into the indentation carved in the floor.

"It braces the door shut," she explained, guiding Willow's hands to the beam, "do you think it'll hold a Carver?"

"Definitely," Willow whispered, "there's no way they could break through, not without a battering ram. Maybe the old one could blast it in with fire, but I wouldn't be surprised if it brought the whole cellar and the entrance to the tunnel down as well. Fire's tricky to control, and they don't make good mages."

"We should move on," Tara said, "put some distance between us and them. With luck, even if they do find the cellar and get through the door, we'll have enough of a head start." They picked up their belongings and, Tara leading the way, walked into the darkness.

"How far have we gone?" Willow asked quietly. She felt they were far enough from the church cellar to relax a little, but without landmarks to guide her she had thoroughly lost track of the distance they had covered in the dry, cool tunnel.

"Roughly," Tara guessed, "the tunnel's turned a little here and there, but I don't think it's turning far away from where it was heading at the start."

"Do you think we're heading for the monastery?" Willow asked. Tara shrugged, despite the fact that Willow had no way of seeing her.

"We're going in the right direction," she said hesitantly, "this tunnel looks fairly new, though. Not that I'm an expert in tunnels. Or stonework," she added as an afterthought. Willow heard the slight tremble in her voice.

"Just a bit out of my element," Tara admitted, "I haven't spent much time underground…actually, none. It's very different to what I'm used to. No open spaces…I guess I feel a little, I don't know, enclosed? Normally I'd have a vague sense of the world around me, t-the trees, the animals, everything moving and…living. All I can sense here is the earth, and it's…it's all packed in close around us. Like it's closing in, slowly…it isn't," she hastened to reassure Willow, "the tunnels the same size it was back in the church…it's just me. Comes from living in the trees, I guess. I'll be fine, it's nothing worth bothering about."

"Hey," Willow said gently, "if it upsets you, it's worth bothering about. It is for me, anyway. Come here." Tara hesitated a moment, then gratefully turned into Willow's arms, resting her head on Willow's shoulder.

"It's alright," Willow soothed her, "trust me, I know. The first seven years of my life I lived in a village that had exactly one cellar, and there wasn't even a trapdoor covering it. Then I went to the Order, and the Church city has catacombs like you wouldn't believe. I wasn't exactly a picture of calm composure the first time I was taken down to the vault libraries, even with half a dozen other girls chattering away beside me."

"You're not bothered by this," Tara said quietly, not sensing in Willow the tension she felt in herself.

"Not now," Willow admitted, "but it took time to get used to it." She gently stroked Tara's back through her armor. "I love you," she whispered, "I promise, you're gonna be okay. I won't let anything happen to you."

"No, don't be sorry," Willow said, "I don't need you to, to pretend you're some invincible, fearless superwoman. I just need you."

"I know," Willow murmured, smiling as she rested her cheek on Tara's head, feeling the softness of her hair. "I know." Tara gave her a tender squeeze around the waist, then reluctantly stood back, taking Willow's hand again.

"I think there's something up ahead," she said, her voice firmer than before, "it's not blocking the tunnel, but the air's disturbed. We should keep moving."

"S-so, you got used to the underground?" Tara asked lightly. Willow could tell she was distracting herself from whatever remnant of unease she still felt, and was more than happy to help.

"Oh, yeah, after a while. I mean, I didn't have much choice, all the good stuff is kept in the vault libraries. It's the ground, you see, the city is built on a magical node - Kehjistan's full of them, that's why all the mage orders are based there. The one the Zann Esu found is a convergence of elemental energy, and the Church is in the middle of the city, right on top of the middle of the node's central spiral. Mostly it makes it much easier to draw and control elemental power, though there are a few places in the node that actually disrupt it. We use those for training, if you can cast and hold a spell in the middle of a disruption point, you'll never have any trouble doing it anywhere else. Anyway, the vault libraries are where the Order keeps the most valuable books and artifacts, which are usually the magically active ones, so there's all sorts of protective spells built into the vaults to keep everything safe. Otherwise, you know, all sorts of things might happen. Heh, I once heard a rumor that one of the books on demonology in the vault sanctum - that's where we keep the *really* dangerous stuff - can read its own spells in the right conditions. Eclipses, planetary alignments, that sort of thing. Mind you, that was just a rumor that went around the trainees, it's not like it was one of the tutors telling us that, so maybe someone just made it up. There's powerful stuff down there, though."

"The vaults are built at the center of the node," Willow explained, "not just on top of it, but actually in the center, horizontally and vertically. Except the very center, there's one chamber that no-one but the Council Seers are allowed into, right in the middle of the vaults. But around that, in the vault libraries, the node's power sustains the protective spells. See, for a protective spell to work, it has to expend energy - if you've got, say, a little magical gizmo like a, a rune wheel, that is set up to cast a spell when it's turned, then a protective spell to stop that working has to have as much power as the wheel does. They cancel each other out. A really good protective spell can cancel exactly the magic that's within it, so it doesn't need any more power - a crude one just dampens down everything indiscriminately, that needs a lot more power - but even so, you always need at least as much power as you're trying to stop. So normally, you cast a protective spell and put as much power as you can into it, and it keeps going until it runs out. Assuming whatever's within it doesn't run out of power first. Some of the stuff in the vault sanctum dates back to the Sin Wars, and it's still active, so it's not looking like we can relax the spells around them anytime soon." She heard Tara chuckle.

"Anyway, the node feeds elemental power directly into the spells cast within it. It's really tricky to do, though, whoever first cast some of those spells was a genius, but basically they'll keep going until the node itself is exhausted."

"Best guess, the end of time," Willow replied. "Nodes aren't just deposits of magic, like iron that you mine out of a mountain. They're places where magic collects. Whenever a spell is cast, the energy behind it doesn't just get used up, it transmutes into a different form. Like, if you cast a fireball, you take elemental fire energy - primal energy - and turn it into actual heat. So, over the whole of the world, the total amount of actual heat increases. But the world doesn't let itself get unbalanced, so an infinitesimal amount of heat, over the whole world, transmutes back into elemental heat to balance the scales."

"Yep," Willow said, "in the case of elemental energy it collects in the node beneath the Order's city, and flows slowly back out into the rest of the world from there. There's nodes for all kinds of energy - elemental, prime, druidic, alchemical transmutation energy, astrological, even necromantic, which must be a fun place," she added with a wry grin.

"You do a lot better than just keep up," Willow said sincerely. "No, there aren't nodes for demonic energy. There are places where it's strengthened, but they're artificial, created by demonologists, or by the demons themselves during the Sin Wars. See, demonic energy isn't a part of Sanctuary. It comes from the burning hells, and when demons use energy, particularly when they cast powerful spells, but even just by existing, they unbalance the world."

"But there's quite a few demons living here," Tara pointed out, "we seem to have a knack for running into them…"

"Yes and no," Willow said, "yes, they unbalance the world just by existing, but no, we're not on an inevitable slide to the whole place falling apart. Holy magic balances the scales. Everything has its opposite, so when a demon casts a spell, the damage that does to the world is undone by a mage using holy magic. Like you, for example," she added, squeezing Tara's hand.

"I…well, yes," Tara corrected herself, "I just never really thought of myself as a mage, that's all."

"There's a lot more magic around that most people realize," Willow said. "I mean, most warriors who train really hard could be considered mages. When they concentrate, and become faster or stronger than you'd think possible, they're using a tiny amount of prime magic. I'm sure you do, even though you don't realize it. Craftsmen who can do work so delicate it's almost impossible to see, athletes who push themselves beyond what a body should be capable of. Blacksmiths often have a little fire magic to them. Mostly it's prime magic that gets used without people realizing it, seeing as it's really just the energy of being alive, and it's kind of instinctive to tap into it, if you really try. But no-one's really cut off from any of the energies in the world. There's people who are more attuned to it, like me with cold, and I think you're probably a lot more attuned to prime energy than most people. Maybe even druidic energy, with all that ability to sense the natural world you have."

"I'm a druid now?" Tara asked, with a slight note of incredulity creeping into her voice. Willow could imagine her lop-sided smile.

"You're many things," she said, "and incidentally, I'm in love with all of them." She felt Tara lift her hand, and her lips press against her palm.

"All of the things that I am are in love with you, too," Tara said warmly. Willow felt a tremendous urge to hug her and kiss her endlessly, but acknowledged - reluctantly - that this was neither the time nor the place.

"So, does that mean I should dance naked under the stars during a full moon?" Willow blushed, glad of the darkness to hide it.

"I'm not sure if you *have* to," she said, "but, you know, if you want to, I'm up for some moonlight dancing."

"I'll keep that in mind," Tara promised. Willow shivered involuntarily, trying to put the image Tara's low purr conjured out of her mind. A few steps later Tara halted.

"I've found what's disturbing the air flow," Tara said with a grim voice, "there's an iron gate. Here." She guided Willow's hands forward, and Willow felt the shape of a barred gate blocking the tunnel. She set to work examining it, running her hands across all its surfaces, and as far as she could reach on the other side.

"Nothing," Willow grumbled, "that doesn't make sense, if this tunnel was for people to escape through, surely it wouldn't be made so they'd have to wait to be let in. What if they were followed?"

"But the doorway in the cellar wasn't sealed," Willow frowned, "if people came through here, they'd seal both gates…"

"I could try to blast it open," Tara said, audibly unhappy with the option, "I could hit it from pretty far down the tunnel. If it did weaken it and cause a cave-in, it probably wouldn't reach us, this looks fairly solid…"

"Maybe," Willow mused, leaning against the gate and trying to come up with something better, "or I could try to ice it up and shatter it… iron's pretty good at holding magic, though, it could be a bit risky to judge the amount of power…properly…"

"I wonder," Willow said to herself, "what if there is an opening mechanism, but we just can't see it?"

"A lever or something?" Tara wondered. "We might have missed it in the dark, could you get a match from my pack?"

"No, an enemy could have torches, they'd see a lever," Willow went on, "but if it were magic…iron holds magic, you could do a simple locking spell with a trigger, and it'd last years before you'd need to re-cast it."

"Do you think a village that size would have a mage?" Tara asked. "Wait, the monastery might…"

"Or they could have paid a traveling mage to do it for them," Willow said quickly, flown with enthusiasm, "it's the kind of thing some mages make a living from, just doing simple things for small towns and so on… hold this?" Tara felt Willow's staff against her hand, and held it while Willow opened a pouch on her belt.

"I've got a scroll with an imbued spell," Willow explained, "it'll let me see any active magic around here. Normally I'd be able to sense it anyway - I wasn't worried about traps, I'd feel anything destructive from a mile off - but a locking spell, a good one, could be subtle enough that it'd need almost no power while it was idle…here it is." Tara heard the faith sound of Willow unrolling one of her tiny scrolls.

"No need," Willow said, "these are all set to cast, I just have to say the coda word while I'm touching the scroll. I memorized them all ages ago…ahem…'allamaraine'."

For a moment Tara saw Willow's face lit by a glow coming from the scroll. The letters on it blazed briefly with their own tiny lights, then seemed to consume themselves, leaving the scroll blank in their wake. After a moment the last trace of writing was gone, and the tunnel was plunged into darkness once more.

"Yeah," Willow said, "I can feel it…now, let's see if… here!" Tara felt her reach out, and there was a tiny scraping sound, as she traced her fingertip over the stone of the tunnel's wall. Tara jumped slightly as the gate behind her swung open with a groan.

"Yup, we make quite the team, huh?" Willow replied as they stepped through the open gate. "Not that it was anything much, just a simple spell…hey!"

"What?" Tara asked, suddenly alert, though Willow's voice had sounded more surprised than alarmed.

"No, I mean…any magical power, I see it as light. I can see you, I can see your spear and your bow, my staff-"

"Looks like," Willow said, "not as much as the spear…gods, that's one fine piece of work…your pack as well." Tara felt Willow lean closer behind her. "What've you got in the left one of these two little pockets, underneath the main strap?" she asked.

"Left pocket…" Tara hesitated, "I don't know, unless I've picked something up…oh, no, I remember, it's the amulet, isn't it? Marela's amulet?" She felt Willow undo the pocket and reach into it.

"I don't know," Willow admitted, "I can't see anything harmful in it…I don't think she'd have given you anything dangerous anyway."

"Well, I could set up a test series, try to narrow it down, but that'd be tricky in the dark. All things being equal, it's probably best to just put it on and see what it does." Tara felt a light surge of protectiveness in her, but she calmed herself at once, remembering the kindness she had sensed in Marela during the afternoon she had spent with the cat woman.

"I'll do it," Willow said easily, "I'm sure it's harmless, but just in case, I've had lots of training at nullifying magic. Okay, let's see what you do…wow."

"What?" Tara asked. She held Willow's hand tightly, and was reassured to feel a calm squeeze in return.

"I can see," Willow said, "it's a bit strange, but I can see…there's no light down here, is there?"

"I can see red," Willow said, "and gray…not other colors though. You look kind of bright pink…heh, so do I," she laughed, and the sound of her amusement did a lot to help Tara relax.

"Pretty far," Willow said, "I guess, as far as I could if it was daylight down here…the tunnel turns a bit up ahead. You're not missing much, it's pretty plain. Hang on." Tara felt Willow reach out towards the wall again, and heard the gate close behind them.

"Yup. Unless they know where to touch the wall, and what rune to trace, they're not getting that gate to open again. Wow, this is pretty neat. Oh, do you want it? The amulet, I mean."

"You keep it," Tara said, "I can sense the space well enough to walk around. It's better if you can see and I can sense, rather than me seeing and you having to rely on me."

"I don't mind relying on you one bit," Willow said fondly as they walked on, "but I see your point. Once we get back above ground I'm going to have a serious look at this amulet, this is a really good piece of enchanting. Marela must've really liked you. Of course," she added, "I can see her point." Willow glanced at Tara, and noticed a pronounced flush in her cheeks - her temporary night-vision, limited though it was in terms of color, seemed to pick up every detail.

"Well," Tara said hesitantly, "I suppose if she's still in Kingsport next time we visit, I owe her that rub behind the ears she wanted."

"So long as it's *just* a rub behind the ears," Willow smiled. She winked, then remembered Tara couldn't see her, and squeezed her hand instead to let her know she was joking.

"Don't worry," Tara smiled back, once she had felt Willow's gesture, "I'm saving all the good stuff for you."

"Darn right," Willow nodded, leaning over to give Tara a kiss on the cheek. "Heh, you're cute when you blush in cat-vision. Course, you're cute anyway, I guess it's not that much of a revelation…huh? Oh."

"No, no, the magic sense spell," Willow explained, "the one I read from the scroll. They only last a little while, you can't get that much power into a scroll that size. Oh well, I've got another couple if we need them. At least it's less distracting now," she finished, more or less to herself.

"Oh," Willow said, grinning at herself, "well…I could see the magic in everything, not just the gate spell. It was a little overwhelming. My staff was this sort of jet black…hole in space, sort of thing. Probably something to do with how it undoes hostile spells, I've never really looked at it using that sight spell before. Your bow was this tingly red all along its length, like there were rubies glittering inside it. As for your spear, hoo boy," Willow laughed, "like looking into the sun, almost, except blue-white rather than yellow. I think whoever made that would be on a level with the Zann Esu for lightning mastery."

"I-I didn't realize how precious it was," Tara said softly, "Solari just…you know, gave it to me, told me to look after it. I mean, I knew it was ancient and important, but she never mentioned anything like this…"

"I can think of someone a lot more precious," Willow said gently, "I bet she thought so too." She watched Tara blush again, and smile widely.

"Y-you said you could see me?" Tara asked after a moment. "With the spell, I mean…is there really power in me?"

"Everyone has power of some sort," Willow said, "even if it's just prime magic that's making them a living thing. You're…there were all these flows of energy, prime magic, a-and what I think was holy magic, and others as well. All flowing through you, a-and harmonizing like…" She hesitated, then leant close to Tara, lowering her voice despite the fact they were completely alone in the tunnel.

"It was the second most beautiful thing I've ever seen," she whispered in Tara's ear.

"You, silly," Willow grinned. "Just…you. No spell-vision or anything, just you."

"Oh…" Willow saw Tara's mouth open to speak, but that tiny sigh was all that emerged. She remained still as Tara turned to face her and slowly closed the distance between her lips and Willow's. The kiss was gentle, tender and silent, yet it stirred such a rush of desire in Willow that she had serious doubts about her ability to stand upright were it not for Tara's arms around her. Both their mouths opened just a fraction, enough to taste each other, but there was no frenzied motion, no tongues surging between their lips, simply the kiss itself. Willow felt her pulse racing, her skin warming, and her center moistening as love and need bloomed out of her heart.

"Ah," she sighed when Tara finally finished the kiss with a final, tiny suckle on her lip, and leaned back. "Ah…oh…oh, wow…"

"I know," Willow said emphatically, "oh gods, Tara, I know… I feel it right down to the bottom of my soul, I love you so much…Oh… ooh!" She shivered and shook her head. "Gods, you are a fantastic kisser, you know that?"

"Um…well then…" Willow faltered, "I guess…yep. Okay, uh, we should keep going? Um, keep moving, I mean, walking along the tunnel, not keep going in other things which wouldn't really be the most useful of things we could be doing at the moment, even though I'd really love to kiss you for the next, oh, three days or so non-stop…not really the best place to be doing it…so?"

"I know," Willow replied, "I could stop myself, but you look so adorable watching me…I guess I've kind of taken to doing it on purpose." Tara took her hand and gripped it warmly.

"Lead the way, cat's-eyes," she said. Willow blinked in surprise, then remembered that Tara couldn't see like she could at the moment. She had become somewhat accustomed to Tara having the superior senses, and it was an odd feeling to have the situation reversed. Though, she mused as they walked along side-by-side, for a woman walking in pitch blackness, Tara still appeared to have a considerable degree of perception. Willow noticed her stepping deftly over the gaps left by occasional missing flagstones, and wondered how she was doing it - or if she even realized she was.

"I was wondering," Tara said after a moment, startling Willow out of her own thoughts, "did you actually understand what those creatures were saying, or was it just types of sounds, things like that?"

"Oh, no, they have a language," Willow said, "most demons do, even the really animalistic ones can usually understand one or other of the demon languages, even if they can't speak themselves. Makes them easier to command, I guess. There's seven basic languages used in hell, one for each of the Evils, and hybrids usually inherit the language of their creator. It's all hierarchical. Carvers, so far as anyone knows, were created by servants of the Lord of Terror, so they speak his language. Well, a really crude version of it."

"I can't speak it," Willow said, "humans don't have the vocal range…if I had to communicate with a Carver I could probably approximate it well enough to be understood. Not that there's any circumstances where I'd want to say much besides 'have an ice bolt', but you know. The Order teaches us to understand the demon languages though, in case we ever need to. Traditionally, most demons - the smart ones - tend to assume that their languages are impossible for humans to understand, so they aren't very guarded in using them."

"Yeah. The one for the Lord of Lies is pretty tricky to get the hang of, seeing as the whole idea behind it is saying one thing and meaning another, but yeah, I got it eventually. Language training is one of the first things a girl learns with the Zann Esu, as soon as she's deemed fit to be taught about demons in general. We start out with Khejan, if you don't know it already, and pretty much everyone knows Westlin even if it's not their native language. After that we go on to a sort of generalized structural training, which is all about how to recognize parts of language, concepts and relations and stuff. Knowing that makes it much easier to pick up a specific language."

"Pretty much," Willow grinned. "Once you've got the hang of demon languages, nothing humans come up with seems that difficult." She squeezed Tara's hand tenderly. "It's one of the most beautiful I've learned, though." She was even more glad of her newly-acquired sight when she saw Tara's smile.

"Oh, pretty much what you'd expect. There were two old ones arguing over who should lead them. It's not often you get them in the same tribe, but it happens sometimes - possibly they learned about humans taking apprentices, and sometimes do it themselves, though it's anyone's guess as to why. Maybe it's just mindless mimicry. The challenger thought the leader was foolish - that's bad for a Carver, they don't care about courage at all, but being smart is all that keeps them from being wiped out mostly, so a leader who gets his followers killed isn't likely to last very long. They don't really have a concept of the greater good, except that they know they can't fight people on their own. I think they might have attacked Harthim, or maybe a smaller town south of here, but wherever it was they got driven back and ran away."

"The challenger said it was the leader's fault, that they shouldn't have tried to attack a strong town. The leader said it was the challenger's fault, and that he wasn't smart enough. That pretty much started the fight, after that it was just a bunch of swearing. Demons have a lot of really elaborate curses, by the way. Some of the stuff they yelled at each other when they were fighting was about as eloquent as a Carver can get. I guess it tells you a lot about them that what they do best is swear." Tara chuckled in agreement, then had a thought.

"Did they say anything about what happened to the village? This one, I mean, not Harthim."

"Nothing useful," Willow said ruefully, "I really don't think it was Carvers that did it though. I can't see them moving the bodies, or attacking in the first place for that matter. Probably it was finding the place empty and all the people dead that got them ambitious enough to try to attack Harthim in the first place."

"I don't know," Willow replied, "but I'm not letting my guard down anytime soon, I'll tell you that."

"Me neither," Tara agreed. "Are the walls more irregular ahead? The air's disturbed."

"Tombs," Willow said briefly, "we're coming up to proper catacombs. I'm guessing this will lead beneath the monastery. Some of those old places have pretty impressive earthworks buried beneath them."

"These look new," Willow said, glancing at the shelves cut into the rock on either side of them as they walked on. Each contained a body, most wrapped in layers of thick cloth, some with iron or stone masks covering their heads. A rare one now and then would be contained in an elaborate stone coffin, some with scenes of battle and angels worked into them, others with life-sized depictions of sleeping warriors, swords in hand, presumably to represent the deceased.

"Hold on a moment," Willow asked, crouching down as Tara stopped beside her to read the inscription on the side of a particularly elaborate coffin.

"'Macharius, brother-lieutenant of the Order of Guardians'," she read, translating from the old Imperial language, not spoken in centuries but still traditionally used in religious documents and memorials, "'died the eighth day of Montaht, year of the Archangel fifteen-thirty-six.' That's the Zakarum calendar, that's…twenty years ago, the Reckoning."

"He was a warrior," Tara guessed. Willow studied the engraving, which showed a grim-looking man, his face marred by a scar running down his left cheek.

"Looks like," she said, "the sculpture has him in full plate armor. Possibly the armor he wore, or maybe just traditional for burial statues of warriors of his Order, it's pretty elaborate for a lieutenant. Sword and shield…" She peered closer. "There are little figures of dead demons carved around the edge of the coffin lid. Carvers, goat-men, skeletons, liches…"

"You're probably right," Willow mused, "by the looks of things, he didn't make it easy for them either. Rest well," she added respectfully. Tara nodded, and they continued further into the catacombs.

"Probably the oldest graves are right beneath the monastery," Willow thought aloud, "and they expanded outwards over the centuries. Order of Guardians, huh? Makes sense, before the rise of the western kingdoms places like monasteries were havens for villagers from miles around. The religious orders were the only groups with enough influence and money to build such big stone buildings, so they made them like fortresses, and whenever there was trouble everyone would get inside the monastery, or the abbey or whatever they had."

"Yeah," Willow agreed, "the tunnel itself looks older than the graves, probably it was dug sometime long ago, before the Reckoning definitely. Orders like this often build huge catacombs to bury their dead. They say the Zakarum cathedral in Kurast city last expanded its catacombs five hundred years ago, and they still haven't filled them up. And they've been involved in just about every holy war there's been," she added, "they were kind of zealous until the reformations began a hundred years ago. Are you okay?"

"Just wondering," Willow said, "you know, with not liking being underground…I thought maybe the place turning into a giant graveyard might not be helping things."

"Oh," Tara smiled, "no, I'm fine…it's actually comforting in a way. This is a, a warrior place. They believed in good over evil, and stood up to defend the people who relied on them. I guess it feels a little more familiar, now we know the people who built it had that in common with us."

"Okay," Willow said, happy to see Tara more at ease. Personally she could have done without the profusion of graves, but it wasn't anything she hadn't seen before - the tunnels leading to the Zann Esu vault libraries were home to their share of tombs of sorceresses from ages past.

A short while later she gently drew Tara to a halt, noticing a small archway carved in the rock on one side. Crouching and peering inside, she found it to be a room containing several graves, each in its own shelf in the walls, all of them more elaborate than those in the tunnel.

"Must be some more notable people," she said to Tara, "what time is it, do you think?"

"Do you think we should get some rest?" Willow asked. "It doesn't look like anyone's been along this tunnel recently, but if it did we'd be as safe in here as anywhere. We can't be far from the monastery now, and just between you and me, I'd rather it be daylight when we get there."

"Yeah," Tara agreed, "okay." Willow helped Tara inside the small room, and guided her as she felt the limits of the walls. As it turned out, it was just wide enough for Tara to lie down without her head or feet bumping the walls. Willow helped her unpack the blankets, and insisted she rest first.

"You barely got any sleep last night," she said, "and you've been on your feet since then. Don't worry, I'll wake you and get some sleep myself."

"I'm going to put a sentry spell out in the tunnel," Willow said, selecting the necessary runes from her pouches, "I'll just be a moment, okay?"

"Okay," Tara smiled. Willow could see Tara was a little anxious at letting her out of her sight - or rather, her senses.

"Tell you what," she suggested, "if you think you can risk hearing my singing, I'll sing a song for you so you can hear me until I'm done."

"Okay, but just remember, you're the one with the singing voice. Don't say I didn't warn you."

Despite her warnings, Tara found Willow's voice soothingly gentle as lilted along the simple notes of her song. She lay down and listened as Willow sang softly, just loud enough for her voice to carry back to Tara.

"A lonely minstrel girl was she,
Of face and voice most heavenly,
And when she sang my heart did sway,
Until the day she went away.

"To save my heart from being torn,
I left the town where I was born,
Through places strange and far away,
I followed on my minstrel's way.

"Though my days were hard and long,
Each night I heard my minstrel's song,
'Cross mountains high and valleys low,
It showed to me the way to go."

Tara heard and sensed Willow approach her, and smiled as she felt her hair being stroked.

"Just don't ask me to sing anything difficult," Willow chuckled. Tara smiled and settled down to sleep. "It's supposed to be 'A lonely minstrel boy was he'," Willow added, "but I like this version better."

"Mmm," Tara agreed sleepily. Willow sat by her, gently stroking her fingers through her hair, and the last thing Tara heard before she slipped into sleep was Willow singing:

"At last I found my minstrel girl,
Who held my heart and all my joy,
And seeing my heart's empty space,
She gave me hers to take its place."

Tara awoke gently, feeling quite refreshed. A feeling of warmth in her localized itself to the sensation of Willow's lips touching her cheek, and she smiled, imagining the fond, indulgent expression she was sure she would have been seeing, had there been any light.

"Morning," Willow replied, straightening as Tara sat up and slid her legs out from beneath the blankets.

"I don't think so," Willow said, "I think it's sometime in the night, maybe a couple of hours after midnight."

"As long as I could manage." Tara heard Willow taking off her boots, then she was lying down, all the while staying in contact with her, by a hand on her arm, or their thighs touching as she slid over the blankets.

"You looked pretty tired," Willow continued, "so, I thought, best if my Amazon gets a proper rest. Big day tomorrow, more catacombs to explore." Tara chuckled at her unenthusiastic tone. "Oh, hey," Willow said suddenly, "you should take the amulet. It's not like I need it to sleep…" Her hand vanished from Tara's arm for a moment, then she was touching her again, finding her hand and pressing the silver chain and amulet into it.

"I did," Tara replied, "I can tell you let me sleep a long time. It's your turn, so we'll both be fresh tomorrow."

"'Kay," Willow murmured, "made some notes in our journal… might be useful…" She yawned again, and Tara leaned down to kiss her just as she started falling asleep. For a few moments she sat still, just watching Willow and smiling. With the vision the amulet gave her, it almost seemed as if the room was bathed in soft daylight. Tara looked around eventually, evaluating her new sight – Willow's scarlet hair and the red-brown of her leathers may have been unchanged, but in other areas she could tell she was not seeing by normal light. She glanced at the feathers of her arrows, sticking out of the open quiver on her pack, and found their blues and greens showed up only as various shades of gray. However, she consoled herself, the amulet needed no light to see by, and thus none of the small room's details were hidden in shadow.

She moved to the small doorway and peeked outside, familiarizing herself with the tunnel now that she could see it, rather than just feel it. Returning to sit beside Willow, she turned her attention to the crypts lining the walls, surprised by their workmanship. Stonework was a rarely-used art among Amazons, and the level of detail in the statues, the realism of the sleeping figures, was quite astonishing. Tara stood again and walked around the perimeter of the room, looking at the faces of the statues, noting the various symbols and decorations. Two of the coffins, judging by their carvings, contained lords of some rank, or so Tara guessed from the coronets and noble garments they were depicted with. The other four in the room were of less nobility, but seemed to be warriors of some note, all with swords held across their chests, shields covering their lower bodies, and either representations of dead foes, or minutely-carved scenes of battle in which the occupants of the coffins were shown wielding swords or halberds against a variety of demons and beasts.

Tara sighed to herself, no longer feeling quite at ease with her surroundings. The stonemasons who had carved the statues of the dead had been skilled at their craft, and at a casual glance it seemed that the old warriors and noblemen were merely sleeping. Or perhaps it was the amulet, she thought, allowing her to see the texture of the rock alone, without the telltale reflection of light that would tell smooth stone from skin. Tara sat down beside Willow and watched her sleep, focusing on the slow rise and fall of her chest. She reached out and, with the utmost care, stroked Willow's cheek with the backs of her fingers, and smiled as Willow sensed it even in her sleep and tilted her head over a fraction, pressing into her hand.

Keeping the still, cold figures of the dead out of her mind, in favor of the very much alive woman beside her, Tara felt warmed herself, and relaxed a little. The journals caught her eye, their own book and Ember's, sitting next to her pack with a pen and inkpot still beside them, and she picked up the book and leafed through the pages, seeing what Willow had written. She found a rough map of the tunnel, with estimates of the distance between the church cellar and the iron gateway, and little markings showing where the crypts started, leading up to the room they were occupying. Tara dipped the pen into the ink and made a few minor corrections to the early part of the map – very minor, she mused, considering that Willow had been effectively blind over that part of the trip. She wondered if the Zann Esu practiced some form of tracker training, but thought it more likely – and consistent with what she already knew – that it was just another example of Willow being remarkably perceptive.

The next couple of pages were filled with notes, summarizing most of what had happened to them since they had been separated from the caravan. Tara nodded as she skimmed over descriptions of the behavior of the goat-men who had chased them, the Carvers in the village, even the blood hawk they had encountered that morning, though in that case there was little to record, and Willow had confined herself to making a couple of rough sketches, with a note to herself to check its wingspan and markings later against 'foul crows' and 'black raptors', whatever those were. Tara noticed a page number scribbled in the margin beside the entry, and on a hunch opened Ember's journal and flipped through the pages, counting as she went. She found the page marked with a scrap of paper, and spent a few minutes reading about the various types of blood hawks and their relatives, which were numerous and uniformly unpleasant.

Tara went back to Willow's writing and studied what she had been thinking after having recorded as much information as she could. Willow seemed to have been pondering the likelihood of the Carvers and goat-men being under the direction of a single leader – 'Ghoul Lord', she wrote at one point, and afterwards tended to use the abbreviation 'GL' whenever she mentioned the theoretical master demon, though in one paragraph she seemed to be pondering whether their adversary might be something else: 'GL = ghouls, but we saw none, except maybe bump-in-the-night monster' (Tara grinned) 'while Carvers suggest something else (skirmishers, drawn to trouble – not part of retinues). Other options: Liche Lord? Human? Blood Clan goat-men often seen in retinues of GL/Night Lords. Carvers just coincidental? Ghouls are slow, poor fighters (used as shields, permit GL to cast against enemies without being attacked). Maybe goat-men used for speed. Was bump-in-the-night a ghoul or a normal undead? How far from self can GL control & maintain subservient ghouls? Maybe goat-men able to travel further, sent to attack us. From where?'

Tara wondered that too, but had to admit to herself that they didn't have enough information to do anything but guess. Later, perhaps, when they had reached safety – Duncraig, if not sooner – then it would be time to take measures to rid the land of the creatures that plagued it. 'The sooner the better,' Tara thought, remembering the people who she had seen dead in the village. She glanced at Willow. 'But for now, let's just get you and me to safety. Somewhere we can lie down and rest together, and not have to worry about keeping watch through the night.'

A note on its own on the right side of the page caught Tara's eye, two page numbers, underlined. She checked Ember's journal, found at the first one another page marked with a paper, and read. It began with the last few lines of whatever Ember had been writing about previously – 'Viz'Jaq-taar shadow disciplines,' according to the title on the page before. After that, though, the next title was 'Order of Guardians', and Tara saw why Willow had noted it. She gave a half-smile – 'She was right,' she thought, 'Ember really has been everywhere and seen everything' – and read on. There was no reference to 'Kotram', but after a few lines it was clear to Tara that Ember had been writing about the same place they were now somewhere beneath.

'Surrounded by five small townships,' she read, 'the monastery of the Order of Guardians serves as haven, fortress and outpost of law in the upper Kingsway Highlands, which fall largely outside the influence of Duncraig's soldiers.' Tara wondered if Duncraig was less intent on protecting its borders than Shan and Kert had thought, or if Ember had been writing at a time when the city's territory was less expansive, and Kotram and Harthim had been isolated from its rule. She shrugged and read on: 'The Order dates back at least as far as the Second Founding, though the records kept by the brother-scribes indicate they may be even older. Unfortunately I have been unable to find earlier documents during my time in the library, but some elements of the monastery's stonework (particularly the catacombs, though I have not gone below first level – brothers mentioned that lower levels were much larger. Must try to find time to explore) seem to date from earlier, perhaps the third century by the Clan calendar. There isn't much left from that time, I wish I had the chance to study this in further detail. I must remember to tell Xanth, this is just the kind of thing she'd spend weeks on. The Order's main self-assigned function is the preservation of law and peace throughout the territory around the monastery, encompassing the surrounding townships, their farmlands and a substantial stretch of the Highlands. Their warriors are well-trained and well-educated, though they have no mages among them, a peculiarity that seems to have its origin somewhere in their history, and endures through ritual rather than attitude. Certainly I have been made to feel welcome, and in general the brothers seem to hold no prejudice against mages, or indeed anyone. More than can be said for most Zakarum-aligned Orders, sadly.

Tara frowned as she read, wondering what they might find when they reached the monastery. She allowed that, with bands of demons moving about freely, the villages surrounding the monastery were not defensible, and the brothers would be more likely to make their stand within the monastery itself. But surely there would have been at least some sign of battle? She couldn't imagine an Order of warriors standing idly by while such weak foes as Carvers – dangerous to her and Willow, but nothing to an organized force – roamed around during the daylight. And then there were the bodies in the village…even a non-believer would try to see that they had a decent burial, so for a religious Order to leave them, for creatures to desecrate…'means they're in no condition to send men to a village barely a mile from their walls,' Tara thought grimly.

She checked the second page number Willow had noted, and found half-way down the page a brief note Ember had written, which by the date – Tara wasn't familiar with the calendar, but she compared the dates on the two entries – was several years later than the first. 'Order of Guardians,' it read, 'during Reckoning, under siege by forces loyal to the Evils. Only a dozen or so brothers remain. Concentrating efforts on rebuilding damaged portions of monastery.' 'Well,' Tara thought, 'that might explain it. How many more brothers could they induct and train since then? Not enough to safeguard the lands around them. Enough to safeguard themselves?' She wasn't even sure of that, but she resolved to be cautious and ready for anything in the morning, when they reached the monastery.

Willow slept soundly and deeply, too tired even for dreams so far as Tara could judge. She felt a pang of regret at having slept so long herself – she could feel, from the way her body felt now compared to her tiredness before she had lain down, that she had been asleep close to eight hours. She reassured herself that it was probably for the best, and that it was far better for Willow to wear herself out a little watching over her in an apparently safe haven underground than for she herself to be tired when her senses and reactions could prove vital. Smiling fondly at Willow, glad at least that her deep slumber kept her safe from bad dreams, Tara waited out the night. Taking into account her guess at how long she had slept, and her best estimate of how long she and Willow had traveled underground – the darkness had seemed to make the time stretch – she figured that it would be best to give Willow six hours sleep, and then hope to reach the monastery and find a passage out of the catacombs during the morning, when the sun was already high. Their experience in the village notwithstanding, Tara felt a lot safer during the day than at night, and if there was danger in the monastery, she felt instinctively that it would be greater in the dark.

Eventually Tara reluctantly decided it was time to wake Willow, for all that she looked ready to sleep through most of the day as well. She had a bite to eat from their supplies while she could see clearly, left some ready for Willow, and finally leaned over her sleeping companion, pressing a kiss to her upturned lips. Willow murmured to herself, moving her lips against Tara's, which Tara found quite enjoyable in itself, then she sensed Willow stirring to consciousness. When she saw Willow's eyes open – gray in the amulet's sight – she began to lean back, but with unexpected vigor for having so recently been sound asleep, Willow's arms went around her waist and pulled her back down, deepening the kiss instead of ending it.

"I thought," Tara said, lifting up for a moment before Willow claimed her mouth again, "you said you," another kiss, "didn't like waking up in the morning?" Willow made a non-committal noise while nibbling on Tara's bottom lip.

"You have this way of making it worthwhile," she admitted when she had finally had her fill of Tara for the moment. "Besides, we don't know how long it'll be before we have another opportunity for proper kissage…best to take advantage of the opportunity when it arises, don't you think?"

"Uh-huh, definitely," Tara agreed, doing her best to ignore her body's demand to stay wrapped around Willow, regardless of the need to get up and get moving. She took a last, long look at Willow, committing her smiling face and tempting form to memory yet again, before removing the amulet and pressing it into Willow's palm.

"I'll be fine," Tara assured her, "you need it more. There's rations there if you're hungry." Willow kissed her cheek briefly, then reached over to where Tara had left the food and waterskin. Tara noticed, and was grateful, that Willow was deliberately staying in contact with her all the while, with a hand on her thigh as she leaned over, and leaning back against Tara as she ate, with Tara's arms loosely around her shoulders.

"Getting low on water," Willow commented to herself, and Tara saw a faint blue glow as Willow condensed more out of the air. It lasted a little longer than when she had done it out in the wilderness, and Tara had a moment to see the outlines of Willow's hands and face in the glow.

"The air's dry down here," Willow explained, before Tara could ask, "it takes a little longer to draw the same amount of water out of it."

"Is it more difficult?" Tara asked. "There's probably a well in the monastery, you don't have to keep doing that…"

"It's not a problem," Willow said lightly, "it's just a matter of time, not effort. Besides, I'm not sure I trust the ground water around here. Get too many demons around and their energy starts affecting things."

"Sometimes on purpose," Willow said, "the smart ones, anyway. Sometimes it's just by upsetting nature's balances. I don't know if there's that many demons around, but it's best not to take chances."

"The water we bathed in, in the valley," Tara said, with a worried note in her voice.

"I thought it was okay," Tara said, "safe to drink, I mean, not that we did…I didn't realize it could be magically poisoned though."

"I think you probably would have felt it if the water was bad," Willow said, stroking Tara's arm, "magic and nature aren't separate things."

"Good," Tara replied, "I was just wondering, you know. I'd like not to be poisoned too many times while we're out here," she added with a laugh. She was pleased to hear Willow laugh along with her, genuinely, not a forced laugh.

"No thanks, I had some earlier," Tara said, dropping to a covert murmur, "just between you and me, I hope we get above ground and find a bathroom soon."

"Me too," Willow returned, also whispering, "let's make that priority one." They shared a giggle, then Willow gathered up the blankets and helped Tara with her pack.

"Do we have everything?" Tara asked, slightly annoyed at herself for not doing more to prepare when she could still see.

"Pack, bow, spear, staff, blankets, satchel," Willow said to herself, "that's the lot. Shall we?" Tara felt Willow offer her elbow, and looped her arm through it.

After a hundred meters more of walking along the tunnel, which Willow reported was no more interesting than the part they had already traversed, she and Tara encountered the first junction, more a crossroads as another tunnel intersected with theirs, stretching off as far as Willow could see left and right.

"We should keep on the main tunnel, I think," Willow commented, "it's larger, I think the turn-offs are just to reach more tombs. We're more likely to reach the surface this way."

Tara agreed, feeling little in the way of air currents from the other passageways. They continued on their way, passing more and more passages on either side, and even a couple of stairwells, leading only downwards.

"Could be pretty expansive," Willow said thoughtfully, "you read the entries in Ember's journal?"

"Uh-huh," Tara replied, "do you know if she did ever go down below the first level of catacombs?"

"I don't think so," Willow said with a shrug Tara felt through their linked arms, "at least, if she did she probably would have written about it somewhere, and I didn't find anything except that other note at the end, about the siege during the Reckoning."

"Right below it," Willow said, "mostly cellars and stuff, a few crypts. Assuming the place is built along the same lines as the ones in Kurast. The architecture varies, but the layout is usually pretty similar."

"I think we're deeper down," Tara said, "I mean, I've been a little disorientated since we went underground, but I don't think we've gone upwards enough to be right underneath the monastery, especially with it on the hill. We're probably in one of the lower levels."

"I haven't seen any stairways going up yet," Willow mused, "but this tunnel does kind of look like the main thoroughfare…and if the villagers were supposed to come along here, it would've been built so that they wouldn't get lost. I think this'll probably lead us to the stairway sooner or later. Oh, hey, did you feel that?"

"I felt something," Tara said, frowning to herself, "sort of a…like a breeze, but not…"

"Magical field," Willow said, "the library vaults back at the Order are full of them."

"Probably nothing," Willow said, "it wasn't recent, I could tell that, I don't think anyone but a mage would've felt a thing. Just goes to show you're special, doesn't it?" Tara grinned despite herself. "It's probably just a relic," Willow went on, seriously, "a lot of catacombs and tombs have them, mostly from having the ground sanctified at some point. If the person doing the sanctification is a holy mage, that can leave a trace that takes hundreds of years to fade."

"Demons don't like it," Willow explained, as they resumed their earlier pace, "sacred ground won't stop them outright, but it'll give them something to think about. That's part of the reason people go to the town church when they're in trouble. Of course, usually the church is the strongest building anyway, but being on holy ground helps. Carvers would hesitate to cross the boundary. Stronger demons like goat-men wouldn't care particularly, but in a close fight it could tip the scales. You know, if they don't fight quite as hard as they would normally, it can be enough for them to be driven off."

"Yeah, although Ember said they didn't have any mages," Willow mused. "Maybe they did centuries ago. Or maybe it's left over from something earlier. Maybe I used to be an older church or something, and the monastery was built on top of the old crypts, and they got expanded into catacombs. Some of the temples in Kurast have more than a dozen different layers of architecture underneath them, from older buildings being destroyed and rebuilt. I think there's another stairwell up ahead."

"Going up," Willow happily confirmed, "and hey, look at this…oh, sorry," she corrected herself sheepishly, "um, the paving stones, they're laid out in a different pattern past the stairwell. That must be deliberate, so you can follow the tunnel either way. Just stay on the path the stones show you, and you can go from the stairs all the way through the catacombs to the village tunnel without getting lost."

"Is there a chamber up ahead?" Tara asked. "I think I can feel lots of space…"

"Can't quite make it out," Willow said, "the next archway's only a few meters, you want to take a look?"

"Well you're the one who'd be taking a look," Tara reminded her with a grin. She tugged gently on Willow's elbow, and together they walked to the archway. Tara had a sense of a great space, maybe a cavern – the air was moving naturally, not confined by tight passageways and low arches.

"See for yourself," Willow replied in an odd voice, a combination of surprise and awe. Tara felt Willow touch her hand, giving her the amulet, and wondered what was so interesting that Willow would forego her sight – even if just for a moment – just so that Tara could take a look. When she closed the amulet's chain around her neck, it took her a moment to realize that it was working properly, and that her sense of perspective hadn't been distorted.

The archway she and Willow were standing in opened onto a wide balcony, paved with huge stone tiles, each one two meters across, and bordered on either side by thick, square pillars that stretched up to support a ceiling almost ten meters above the floor. Beyond the balcony was the real surprise – beyond a stone railing decorated with gargoyles and angelic figures, massive pillars descended deep into the earth, and between them lay chasms fifty meters deep, the floors below distant and tiny. With Willow's hand in hers Tara slowly approached the railing, staring out across the stone landscape. To either side of her, barely a meter from where she stood, two of the great pillars loomed, their surfaces carved with ancient representations of gods, angels, heroes and beasts. The carvings ran as far as Tara could see – beyond that they blurred into a soft texture covering the stonework, on every pillar she could make out. At irregular intervals their surfaces were broken by archways from which bridges spanned the distances between them, and here and there supporting beams, great masses of stone, angled out into the ground.

"Gods and goddesses," Tara whispered, "who built this?" She peered to either side, trying to find the edge of the great man-made cavern, but the wall curved around, denying her a clear point of reference. Here and there were more balconies, some connected by stairways to passages inside the pillars. She guessed the whole chamber, if it was circular as the wall suggested, was five hundred meters across – larger than any single structure she had ever seen besides her home. And that had been made of wood, built among the trees that had stood for centuries, while this place had been carved out of solid rock, every stone fashioned and moved into place. The engineering, the craftsmanship, the sheer scale of the construction was staggering. She leaned toward the rail a little, careful not to move too far from Willow, who without her sight was holding on to her arm a little tighter than she had before. The floor, fifty meters down, was decorated with ornate archways and statues of all description. The bases of the pillars were all surrounded by tiny moats – tiny from Tara's vantage point, though she guessed they were each half a meter across – filled with still water, or perhaps, she thought as she peered at the shade and reflection, oil of some sort. There were pits here and there, surrounded by railings and spanned by stepped bridges, full of more of the black liquid. Some of the pits were empty and seemed to stretch down forever, so that Tara expected to see the glow of lava and hear the hissing of the fire hydras that legend said lived at the center of the world. That was missing, though – the monumental structure was still and silent.

"Not bad, huh?" Willow said wryly. "I bet Ember'll wish she'd found time to check down below the first level of catacombs. She'll go nuts when I tell her." Tara shook her head, then quickly took off the amulet and handed it back to Willow.

"No, I'm fine," Tara said. She felt Willow's arms move, and the slight relaxation in her as her sight returned.

"If I had to guess, I'd say the brothers were a little late in their estimates. This has got to be second century work, the height of the old Empire."

"Oh, the usual," Willow said with a shrug, "people getting too attached to power, forgetting what they were supposed to be doing with all that wealth and influence. Fighting amongst themselves. Then the mage wars, of course, but the Empire was in decline even before they started. But this has got to be second century work. Gods, I wish we had time to explore it, I'd love to know which Emperor build this. I can't believe no-one knows about this place, there's barely any structures like this in Kurast, and they've been studied so much there're more books written about them than stones used to build them." She gently led Tara back to the archway, and from there to the stairwell, which seemed positively cramped in comparison.

"Maybe it was once," Willow said. "Not underground, but maybe there used to be an Imperial city above us, and this is all that's left."

"The histories say all the Imperial capitals were like that. Twenty miles across, walls as high as cliffs, towers so tall they reached the clouds…" she trailed off with a shrug as they started climbing the stairs. "There's probably some exaggeration at work. Maybe not as much as people generally think, though. But yeah, the Empire built big, tall and deep. They had the best mages working with them too, it's not surprising there's a magical field down here. Probably just keeping the place intact. The weight of those pillars…" she whistled quietly.

"Actually, it probably was," Willow replied. "The buildings that survived in Kurast are on that scale. The Zakarum library is in a temple that used to be an Imperial palace, and that's almost three miles wide, thirty storeys tall…it's pretty impressive."

"Wow," Tara breathed. "And the brothers in the monastery just…use it as catacombs?"

"They probably just left it alone," Willow guessed. "Maybe whoever built the monastery used stone from the ruins up above. But there's no way they could've taken stone out of a vault like that. Not without collapsing the whole thing…or maybe the magic holding it together made it too difficult to take apart anyway, so they just left it. I wonder if they've mapped it?"

"They must have," Tara said, "I mean, they'd…surely they wouldn't live up above and just ignore something like that?"

"They might," Willow said vaguely, "they'd know a few levels of it, to use as store rooms and so on, but as for the rest, there's probably no reason for anyone to go down there. I suppose it's not such an amazing thing if you're used to it. I mean, if you father and his father and his father knew there was a big vault beneath the monastery, and no-one really thought about it, you wouldn't either. It's just…there. Heh, when I was a kid we had a sheepdog on the farm that knew something like thirty different words. Dad would call out to it, telling it where to run, where to guide the sheep, and I just figured that's the way things are. And then I went to the Order, and some of the girls I met were born in cities, and had never seen a dog answer to anything except its own name."

"I suppose," Tara allowed. "Actually, I kind of wish we had time to explore it as well. The stonework, and the scale of it all…it's magnificent."

"Maybe we'll come back here," Willow said, "demon infestations come and go. Once Duncraig finds out about this they'll probably form an expeditionary force and hunt down the Carvers, burn out their lairs. In a couple of years' time, this whole place might be safe again, and we'll be able to take a proper look around next time we pass through." She paused. "What happened to you not liking the underground?"

"That vault hardly counts as an enclosed space," Tara said with a wry grin, "I've seen towns smaller than that."

Willow hadn't noticed any change in the light as they climbed the stairwell, but as they neared the top she felt Tara's hand in hers relax its grip, and noticed her steps on the stairs becoming even surer than they had been. She peered up at the doorway at the top of the stairs, noticing its style was far more everyday, more like a building, than the arches of the two floors of further catacombs they had already passed on their way up.

"I don't see any difference," Willow said, "this thing must replace normal vision rather than add to it." They emerged into a stone room decorated with a handful of statues, monks and saints carved in traditional styles. Though Willow couldn't see sunlight or shadows, the tall glass windows lining one wall obviously looked out onto open ground.

"Your eyes," Tara said, overcoming her surprise and peering at Willow, fascinated.

"What?" Willow said again, smiling slightly, out of relief rather than any understanding of what was going on.

"Th-they look like cat's eyes," Tara said, "I mean, proper cat's eyes…vertical slits, the patterns…"

"You're kidding!" Willow protested. Automatically she reached around her neck and undid the amulet's chain. Color and sunlight returned with a blinding glare, and she squinted for a moment.

"Yeah," Willow said quickly, "yeah…just…you know, when you wake up in a dark room and open the shutters and see the sunlight? Like that…" She blinked a few more times until her eyes adjusted to the light. "Now?" she asked, opening her eyes wide for Tara to see.

"Normal," Tara said. "Can I…?" She motioned for the amulet. Willow nodded and handed it to her, watching her eyes closely as she put it on. The instant Tara's hands disappeared behind her neck to join the ends of the chain, the colors in her eyes flowed into a new form, the pupil stretching up and down to form a tall slit, the subtle patterns in each iris shifting, widening, stretching almost from edge to edge of her eyes. It all took barely a second, and when it was done Tara's eyes were still her own, still the marvelous blue Willow saw in her dreams, yet they were as feline as those of a house cat.

"Wow," Willow breathed, "wow, that's…I thought it was just a sensory spell, but this it…I don't even know how that's done, it must be an entirely different branch of magic…some sort of druidic morphic flux, but I've never heard of anything so subtle…"

"You look…" Willow hesitated, trying to find the words, "you look…exotic," she finished with an appreciative smile. Tara smiled shyly and took off the amulet again, allowing Willow to study her eyes as they shifted instantly back to their usual human forms.

"There's nothing plain about you," Willow said, and on a whim she caught Tara around the waist and pulled her close. "You're the woman I love, and your eyes are absolutely…breathtaking," she finished in a whisper, realizing just how true that was as she stared into them.

"In fact," she added, "the only reason I even liked the way you looked was that they were still your eyes. Same storm-blue, same deep, soulful gaze…I wouldn't have it any other way."

"Good," Willow replied firmly, "'cause if you didn't I'd have to tell you over and over how beautiful you are, and make love to you over and over until you believe it. Of course," she added in an undertone, "I might do that anyway."

"And you call me perfect," Tara said, trailing a finger across Willow's cheek. They stayed like that, embracing and smiling at each other, for a long moment, then Tara blinked and glanced at the door on the far side of the room.

"Come on," she said, reluctantly disengaging from Willow, "let's see what we're up against today."

The door opened onto a short corridor, with sunlight streaming through an open archway at the end of it. Beyond that was what seemed to be the monastery's central courtyard, with gothic-style buildings on either side, north and south. To the east a row of smaller, more modern buildings backed onto the high stone wall, while to the west the courtyard extended right to the wall, in the center of which was a gatehouse with a huge wooden doorway, thick and impenetrable. Curtains fluttered in the windows of the buildings, pennants flapped from poles on the walls, but there was not a soul in sight.

"Oh not again," Willow complained, before looking surprised at herself and suppressing her annoyance.

"This isn't like the village," Tara said, "the gate's closed and barred…" Keeping Willow's hand in hers she hurried across the courtyard to the gatehouse, climbing the stairs up to the battlement. She drew up short as she reached the top and looked out over the wall. "Oh damn," she muttered.

Willow stood level with her and looked out at the ground in front of the monastery, where a few dozen bodies, torn and bloody, in stained robes, lay scattered across the road leading to the gate.

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…"

Willow and Tara followed a Palace attendant up a spiral staircase, heading for their room at the top of one of the Palace's many towers. It had been a long afternoon and evening – they had told their story to the other Amazons, who welcomed them both exuberantly, Willow just as warmly as Tara, then they had retired to Tryptin's suite. Tara had gone over the events of the past six days in exhaustive detail, while Willow sat nearby at a writing desk, composing her report to the Zann Esu, to go out on the night's mail boat to Kingsport, and then on a fast ship to Kurast. That done, she joined Tara and added her own observations to Tara's account, including her suspicions regarding the demon Shadai's current whereabouts and potential abilities. On the strength of the trust she saw Tara bestow in the young diplomat – and her own impressions of him – she told him in full of her prior encounter with the demon in Entsteig. He listened attentively, without question or interruption, and they paused only to summon a servant and have a dinner brought up when the afternoon darkened into evening.

And now, at last, Willow felt as if she could relax. She and Tara were safe, with the military might of the capital of Westmarch between them and the creatures that roamed the lands around the monastery. The Order would know everything they could about Shadai as soon as humanly possible, the city's mages would be informed of the danger, and set to work devising countermeasures. The Amazons and their other fellow travelers had come through safely, just as Tara had predicted – aside from the poor man they had seen killed by the Carvers' fire blast, only two other people had been wounded, a guard and one of the Duncraig ambassadors, and both were recovering well. Even their wagon had survived, waiting in the Palace's shelter for them to unload. She and Tara had agreed that that could wait until tomorrow, though.

They reached the landing at the top of the stairs, where the attendant, a young, unfailingly courteous woman, unlocked the solid oak door and gave the key to Tara. She bowed to both of them and disappeared back down the stairs after letting them know that she, or another attendant, would be available at any time, day or night, should they be needed. Willow turned from a quick glance out of the landing's small window, overlooking the off-shoot of the Marien river just north of the Palace, and shared a relieved, anticipatory smile with Tara. She pushed the door open, and Willow followed her through.

"Wow," Tara murmured. Willow took a couple of steps past her, and had to agree. The room occupied practically the whole floor space of the eight-sided tower, and was furnished tastefully, expensively, and above all beautifully. To one side was a large fireplace, clad in black marble with gold decoration, logs of wood stacked beside it in a brass-plated metal rack, and in front of the fireplace a pair of cushioned, comfortable- looking chairs waited. Further along, where the wall turned a corner, a mirror in a painted frame reflected the light of two candles in ornate wall brackets on either side of it. Beneath a wide shuttered window an old set of wooden drawers, varnished to a rich, dark tone, with little brass handles on each of the drawers. Beneath it a carpet, woven in the eastern style with colorful geometric patterns, covered the smooth stone floor tiles.

To the other side, beyond a bookcase, of which half the shelves were empty, and half filled with leather-bound books on all manner of subjects, was a sturdy round breakfast table and two chairs, the table covered by a dark cloth with gold patterns woven into the edges. Folded white tablecloths, plates and cutlery were stacked neatly in a cabinet against the far wall. There was a door to another room – 'private bathroom?' Willow wondered, 'not bad at all…' – and past the corner of the wall she saw the edge of a writing desk, which reminded her very much of her favorite desk, tucked away in the back of the Zann Esu library, where she had spent many evenings happily studying old books and making notes. A pair of double doors further along, on which the outer shutters had been left open, led out onto a balcony overlooking the expanse of the great city, and beside them, spaced around another eye- pleasing Aranoch carpet, was a set of cushioned chairs, two single and one long lounge, large enough for three people to sit side by side without touching.

The space was lit by a profusion of candles, glowing strong, clean and white, in free-standing candelabras, mounted on the walls, and in a great brass-plated chandelier hanging by a sturdy chain from the ceiling, where the wooden beams supporting the roof had been left open, varnished and painted with elegant patterns of vines and flowers. It was a room clearly designed to impress upon visitors not just the wealth of Duncraig, but also the culture, the civilization, the recognition of the finer things in life. Planned, no doubt, by people of impeccable taste, fashioned by master craftsmen and kept as clean and presentable as the day it was finished, Willow could not have imagined a more comfortable, inviting place to stay.

All this Willow gathered in a momentary glance around, but it was not what first caught her attention, nor what she returned to gazing at in pleasant surprise. The bed, situated across the room from where she and Tara stood, on top of a soft, luxurious-looking carpet, was dressed with spotless white sheets beneath warm burgundy-colored blankets, matching the gauzy curtains that were bunched around the carved wood posts supporting its canopy. A collection of pillows occupied the far end, all neatly arranged, and a pair of candles, one on either side, cast a soft, gentle glow, catching the tiny strands of gold thread woven into the cover of the eiderdown folded neatly at the foot of the bed. Its side was something else, though – Willow guessed she would be able to lie flat across it, with her arms stretched above her head, and barely reach both sides, and it was longer than it was wide.

"Yeah," Tara agreed, her voice low and deliberately sexy. Willow turned around as she heard Tara close the door, and saw her leaning against it, biting her lip and staring at Willow with half-closed, seductive eyes. Willow felt the corners of her lips turn up, and was powerless to prevent the wide smile that spread over her face.

"And I'm sensing," she said slowly, leaning her staff against the wall and dropping her satchel, "that it's going to get quite a work-out before long?"

"First things first," Tara grinned, standing upright and walking over to Willow, "let's have a look around." She put one arm around Willow's waist, and her other hand stroked her stomach leisurely. "We have all the time we need."

She leaned forward just far enough to brush their lips together, as her fingers moved down below Willow's waist onto the top of her skirt, then she leaned back and grinned devilishly.

"Mmm-hmm," Tara murmured, as they walked arm in arm across the room, "well, it's been such a long time since we had a proper moment to ourselves…and," she leaned close to Willow and whispered in her ear, "I've been thinking about this moment a lot, in between the running away from demons…I think it calls for something special. And if that means that this," her hand again snuck around Willow's waist, her fingers trailing a little lower, "this little desire becomes an unbearable, burning need…" she stepped back an shrugged casually.

"Just remember," Willow grinned, trying not to be too distracted by the way her skin tingled whenever Tara touched her in that leisurely, confident way, spoke to her in that seductive purr, or even looked at her with that calm, promising gaze, "I can give as good as I get."

"Come here you," Willow said, catching Tara around the waist and pulling her into an embrace, "you wouldn't deny me a kiss, though, would you?"

"Never," Tara sighed just before their lips met. At first they were both satisfied at just the contact, pressing their lips together, experiencing the softness and the warmth as their hands flattened on each other's backs, their two bodies held tightly together. Then Tara's mouth opened slightly, allowing the tip of her tongue to graze across Willow's lips. Willow moaned into the kiss as both their mouths opened devouringly wide, and in the space of a second the simple, gentle kiss became heated, desperate and utterly sexual. Their bodies writhed, the hard leathers covering them pressing firmly together, providing its own stimulation in addition to the feel of hands flat against backs, arms tight around each other, thighs pressing together. Their tongues dueled, tasting each other, both venturing forward and deep at the same time, locking their mouths together.

"Mmmaaahh…goddess," Tara breathed as their lips finally parted a fraction, their breathing brushing hot against each other's lips. "I missed kissing you whenever I wanted…"

"Me too," Willow whispered gleefully, "your lips are so…c'mere…" They kissed again, passionately, but some of the immediate, desperate craving had been satisfied, and Willow found herself quite able to relax and enjoy the way Tara's tongue caressed hers, drawing soft sighs and primal moans out of her with intoxicating ease.

"Mmm," Tara purred as their lips parted and they stood still, their foreheads resting lightly against each other. "You know what would be good?"

"Do you remember what it was like to have a slow, hot bath together?" Tara murmured, tilting her head to whisper in Willow's ear. "No cold streams, no hurrying…just you and me, heat all around us… steam making our skin glisten…"

"I'll start the fire," Willow said quickly, making Tara chuckle at her enthusiasm. They parted a fraction, then turned back to each other and kissed again, this time Willow thoroughly exploring Tara's mouth, as Tara sighed and pressed her hands against the leather wrapped around her body. Reluctantly, Willow leant back.

"Bath," she said, trying to keep her mind from emptying itself of everything besides Tara again.

"Right," Willow nodded, finally managing to extract herself from the inviting embrace. Tara reached out to stroke Willow's thigh as she turned around, smiling seductively as Willow grinned over her shoulder, then opened the door to the bathroom and vanished inside. Willow managed to get a fire going in record time, finding kindling and matches waiting in the metal rack with the larger logs, while listening to Tara's footsteps in the other room. She turned to find Tara back in the doorway, looking pleased but perplexed.

"What?" Willow asked. "No buckets for the water?" Tara shrugged and gestured for Willow to see for herself. The bathroom was pristine and elegant, with every amenity Willow could imagine, but dominated by a tub large enough to comfortably contain a small horse. It was no common bathtub intended to be dragged out in front of the fire and filled from buckets – it was fixed to the floor, for one thing – but Willow spotted a series of brass taps and knobs on the wall.

"Ah," she said, "running water." She crossed to the tub and twirled one of the handles, producing a rain of cold water from a showerhead at the far end of the bath.

"There's a water tank up above?" Tara wondered, looking at the roof, which was a more modest version of the decorated beams out in the main room.

"No, it's pressurized," Willow explained, "the tank's probably down at the base of the tower, fed from the river." She experimented with the knobs for a moment, and managed to transfer the flow of water from the shower to the tap lower down. "Probably a couple of standing purification spells as well," she noted. "Then they…actually I'm not sure how it's done. Something technical. And voila, running water whenever we want it. Neat, huh?"

"Southern peninsula," Willow said, "it means…'there we go,' I guess. Now, do they have a boiler, or…ah! Yes!" she exclaimed, testing the water.

"Hot water," Willow grinned, "gods, I love civilization." She stood and smiled, as Tara came up behind her and slipped her arms around her waist.

"Wha? Oh! Oops," Willow grinned sheepishly, disengaging herself from Tara and putting the plug into the tub's drain, where the water was disappearing as quickly as it arrived.

"Well it's been a while since I was in Kurast," she complained with a smile, "I've got kind of used to the 'put a bucket over the fire and tip the tub out when you're done' school of plumbing." Tara laughed and took her hand, leading her over to a wooden bench up against the wall beside the bath.

"Let's get you ready for your bath, my lady," she said, sitting Willow down and crouching in front of her.

"A likely story," Willow said in a mock-accusing tone, "you just want to get me naked."

"Of course," Tara admitted, gently easing Willow's boots off, "but if that's all I wanted, I could do that with a single word."

"Oh really?" Willow asked, only partly teasing, and undeniably aroused by Tara's behavior.

"Uh-huh," Tara said simply, setting her boots aside. Her gaze slowly made its way up Willow, following her legs, pausing on her hips and her chest as a playful grin teased Tara's lips, finally reaching her face, where it hit Willow with an almost physical wave of sensuality. Willow's mind filled with fantasies of what that look promised.

"Yes ma'am," Willow whispered, her hands already going to the straps of her armor. She and Tara laughed at the same time, then Tara leaned forward and helped her, kissing her shoulder as the straps loosened and fell away.

"Yeah?" Willow asked, undoing the ties in the waist of her skirt as Tara's fingers went to work loosening the laces at the sides of her armor. "What, are you going to wait until we're in the middle of a crowded market and whisper that in my ear?" Tara laughed quietly, then leant forward, tickling Willow's earlobe with the tip of her tongue.

"And the chance that I might," she whispered, "be honest, that turns you on a little, doesn't it?"

"No," Willow breathed, "not a little…" She wriggled out of her skirt and let it fall to the floor. "I think," she said in a husky voice, "you can see how turned on I am…"

Tara let her fingers brush briefly against the silky fabric of Willow's underwear as she loosened the leather around her torso.

"It's no surprise," Willow said, doing her best to sound off-hand, and not really succeeding very much, "I mean, everything you do turns me on…"

"Everything?" Tara asked silkily. She slipped a finger into the thin strip of fabric around Willow's hips, pulled it tight, and let it snap back into place, making Willow jump a fraction.

"Oh yeah," Willow sighed, "everything…" Tara brushed her lips against Willow's cheek then kissed her, softly, on the lips. Steadily she loosened the laces on Willow's side, pulling them out of their eyelets so she could slip the armor off her without having to lift it over her head. Willow almost didn't notice it go, but when Tara's hands pressed against her bare sides, she moaned and arched her back, glad to finally be free of the barrier between her body and her lover's touch. One hand went behind Tara's head, holding her as she kissed firmer, sucking on Tara's bottom lip as her tongue teased her.

"Mmm, slowly," Tara murmured, breaking away from Willow's lips to press kisses across her cheek and down her neck. "No hurry…" She hooked her thumbs through the waist of Willow's underwear and, with deliberate slowness, started to pull them down her thighs. Willow lifted herself briefly to assist her.

"Tease," she said, as Tara's fingers pressed into the underside of her thighs on their way down.

"And you love it," Tara replied, getting the garment past Willow's knees and letting it fall the rest of the way on its own. She knelt down and leant forward, between Willow's legs, staring up at her with a sexy grin.

"Yeah, well," Willow murmured, "right now, you could bend me over your knee and spank me and I'd love it." Tara raised an eyebrow.

"Is that so?" she said in a low voice that sent a shiver down Willow's spine, directly into her core.

"Only one way to find out," Willow replied in a whisper, surprised at her boldness. Tara paused deliberately, just long enough for Willow to experience another aroused shudder, then licked her lips.

"Maybe later," she said in a mysterious tone. "We've got a bath to enjoy." She gathered up Willow's clothes and boots, then quickly leant forward again and pressed her lips against Willow's waist, just above the curls of copper between her legs. Willow let out a moan, her head falling back, as she felt Tara's lips open against her skin and her tongue press against her.

"Hop in," Tara said, standing up with her clothes, "I'll put these away and join you in a moment." Willow watched her go, sitting naked on the bench and trying to gather her thoughts and get her breathing under control. Once she was sure her legs would carry her she got to her feet and shut off the flow of water into the bath, which looked full enough, though not so much it would overflow with two people in it.

'Oh that sexy minx,' she thought to herself with a wide grin, idly touching a finger to her sex, 'gods she makes me wet…' She parted her legs slightly, and felt the moist trails where droplets of arousal had run down the inside of her thighs. 'Oh my…dripping wet. I'm the luckiest girl in the world.' It was a minor struggle not to continue touching herself, but she managed, albeit by diverting her wandering hand to her chest, where she absently rubbed her moist fingertip over her nipples one after the other.

She tested the water by daintily dipping a toe in, then gingerly stepped into the tub and stood, with the hot water lapping at her shins just below her knees, letting the steam surround her body. 'Yummy hot,' she thought, 'oooh…did we get the heat just right?' She took in a breath through clenched teeth and let it hiss out again, as her legs absorbed the heat from the water. It was almost enough to make her want to run a little more cold water…but not quite. 'Just right,' she smiled, lowering herself slowly, 'just as much as I can take, spot on. Oh gods that's good…' She crouched and reached out to hold either side of the tub, supporting herself as she let her legs relax a little, easing herself back into the water. The contact when her bottom touched the water made her flinch just a little, then sigh out loud as she relaxed and lowered herself, and the water flowed around her hips and between her legs, warming her already heated sex.

'Feels good,' she thought lazily, as she finally reached the bottom of the tub and began to lean back against the side, 'like being touched…hands coming up my body…just underneath breasts…'

"Tara," she sighed without consciously meaning to, her eyes fluttering closed as the water covered her chest, the heat soaking through her skin and making her nipples feel delightfully hot. 'This is not calming me down at all,' she thought with a smile. Her hands floated between her legs, not touching with any purpose, just resting there comfortably with her thighs pressed on either side. 'I feel sexy all over,' she mused, 'almost like when she touches me…almost…'

She heard footsteps on the tiled floor, and the door close. 'I know that's you, baby,' she thought, 'who else could have sexy footsteps?' The footsteps approached the tub, and Willow sensed Tara crouching down close to her.

"Room for one more?" Tara purred in her ear. Willow remained where she was, and let her lips curve into a wide smile.

"If the one is you, always," she murmured. "Now 'fess up…how long were you standing in the doorway watching me?" She heard Tara's soft laugh.

"Long enough to entertain certain…un-chaste thoughts," she admitted slyly. "Then again, you seemed to be doing okay by yourself…to judge by all that sighing and moaning."

"This is, without a doubt," Willow declared, "the best bath I have ever been in…but you know nothing could ever feel as good as being touched by the woman I love." She opened her eyes and gazed at Tara, who was crouching by the side of the tub smiling at her.

"Well lucky you," she said, "that's exactly what I had in mind…lucky me, too," she finished with a grin, her eyes straying down over Willow's submerged body.

"As it happens, I'm in the market for a little touching – make that a lot," Willow quickly amended. "Prime quality Willow…get her while she's hot."

"I think I'll do that," Tara said, standing up. Willow noticed for the first time that she was wearing a white cotton shift which came down to the middle of her thighs.

"There's a bunch of them in the drawers," Tara said, "I thought seeing as I got to have all the undressing fun with you, I'd give you something to take off me in return. Think of it as unwrapping your present," she grinned cheekily. "So…wanna unwrap me?"

Willow stood up slowly, and Tara rose with her, her lips parting as she took in the sight of the dripping wet woman in front of her, her skin flushed pink from the hot water. Willow gently cupped her face in her hands and leant her forward until their lips met in a slow, languorous kiss. Tara leant further forward, her breasts touching Willow's through the cotton, and sighed as Willow's hands trailed down her neck and covered her shoulders, holding her close. When they finally parted, Tara glanced down, first allowing herself a long look at Willow, then at herself, noticing the patches where Willow's touch had soaked through her shift.

"Oh I've barely begun to get you wet," Willow promised, letting her fingers trace lines down Tara's arms before taking her hands. "Come on… let's get wet together." Tara smiled widely as she stepped over the edge of the tub and settled her feet into the water, gasping quietly at the heat.

"You knew that already," Willow replied. She knelt down by Tara's side and supported her as she lowered herself into the water. Tara stretched her legs out and lay back, her head resting on Willow's chest as she in turn leant against the side of the tub, brushing the fingers of one hand lovingly across Tara's cheek, and with the other teasing at the cotton which floated around her, billowing and swaying gently in the water.

"Perfect," Tara sighed. "Hmm…what does it take to build a bath like this, do you think?"

"Oh, not much," Willow said idly, her hands smoothing the soaked shift down against Tara's sides, "it's just a matter of water pressure and a boiler for the heat…or a bit of simple fire magic, nothing complicated… I could probably get the hang of it myself, with a bit of practice…you're enamored of it enough to have one built back home, are you?"

"There's only one thing I'm enamored of," Tara purred, reaching back lazily to stroke Willow's hips and thighs, "but I could definitely get very used to this."

"I'll see if I can find some books on the mechanisms to take back," Willow promised, reaching for a bar of soap from the several sitting in a dish at the edge of the tub, "now, I think it's high time I ran my hands all over you under the pretense of bathing you." Tara chuckled softly.

"I like that pretense," she murmured, "it's got all sorts of uses…" She stretched her limbs momentarily, then folded her legs underneath herself and sat up, turning to face Willow with her shift clinging to her as she rose out of the water, and quite transparent wherever it touched her skin.

"Hmm?" Tara smiled, arching her back. 'Okay, let's just concentrate on not drooling,' Willow thought to herself randomly, 'I know it's difficult, what with oh my gods she's hot, and look at her nipples, oh gods, they're poking towards me, I can practically hear them saying "play with us," Okay, this has definitely been a long time of just sitting here staring at her, so say something!'

"Um, the phrase 'so sexy you should be illegal' comes to mind?" Willow ventured. Tara's smile was as wide as it could possibly be.

"Then come here, my partner in crime," she said in a low murmur. Willow knelt in front of her, and Tara remained upright on her knees, bringing her chest just about level with Willow's mouth.

"How sexy?" she murmured, leaning her head down to whisper in Willow's ear as her hands caressed her face.

"Like nothing else in the world," Willow sighed. Tara sat back on her heels and leant down, brushing her lips down Willow's neck and further, between her glistening wet breasts.

"I need you," she whispered into Willow's skin, "I need you so much it should be frightening…but it's not…it's perfect. You're perfect…you're a work of art, and loving you is the most beautiful thing I've ever felt."

"And the things you make me feel," Tara went on, kissing her way slowly across Willow's breasts, her tongue sneaking out to tease each nipple as she neared, "the need, the desire…divine, spiritual elation, and," her voice dropped to a husky murmur, "complete sensual, sexual release…" She rose slowly, kissing Willow's collarbone, her neck, beneath her chin, almost reaching her lips before she paused.

"When I see that same need I feel, in your eyes," she whispered, "it's like a kiss to my soul."

Willow opened her lips in anticipation of Tara's kiss, and sighed when they made contact. Tara took her time, unhurriedly nibbling on Willow's lips, stretching her tongue between them, pressing their mouths together. Willow's hands, meanwhile, we not idle, clutching at Tara's back almost frantically, pulling her solidly down against herself, pressing their bodies together so that not the slightest space remained between them, from their joined lips above to below where Willow's legs wrapped around Tara's and her toes pressed against her calves.

"Ah," Willow gasped when Tara finally released her lips, "ah…oh, wow…heh…Okay, now it's time to unwrap my present."

Tara grinned slyly, then slowly and deliberately licked her lips as she sat back on Willow's legs wrapped around hers, arching her back, and stretched her arms out above her head.

"I am honored," Willow replied sincerely, as her fingers slipped beneath the hem of the shift, which was plastered to Tara's thighs, and gradually worked their way upwards. "Clingy," she murmured to herself, as the wet fabric stuck to Tara wherever it touched.

"Mmm-hmm," Tara replied, "all over…feels good…ah!" she gasped, as Willow's hands reached chest-level, and she reached inside the front of the shift to cup her breasts.

"Oh yeah," Tara sighed, "that feels better…" She gathered up the hem of the shift from Willow and pulled it over her head, tossing it aside to land with a quiet splat on the bathroom floor. Willow's hands continued to hold her breasts, squeezing gently, each fingertip constantly varying the pressure it applied. Tara smiled, as her sex warmed with each touch, gently extricated herself from Willow's legs, and turned around to lay back against Willow again, this time with nothing between her back and Willow's chest. Willow's hands returned at once to Tara's breasts, reaching around either side of her body to continue her massage.

"Lovely," Tara murmured, letting her head fall back onto Willow's shoulder, "you know…I think your…mmm…fascination with my bosom…oh yes, just like that…might stem from some…ahh… subconscious recognition that…you're truly gifted…at showing your appreciation in…such a stimulating fashion…"

"I like my explanation better," Tara purred, "it accounts…harder, baby…oh goddess yes…it accounts for the fact that you can bring me right to the edge…like that…of climax, just touching me like this."

"Absolutely," Tara sighed, "it's only…because I know it'll be worth it…that I can keep myself in check…"

"I promise it'll be worth it," Willow smiled, lightly kissing Tara's ear, "right now, I've only just begun making love to you…"

"Part of me can't believe it gets better," Tara chuckled, "the way this feels…oh goddess!" she gasped as Willow's fingers closed around her nipples and squeezed firmly. "Oh goddess baby, do that again…mmm! Oh, that's it…you are a goddess…that explains it all…you're a goddess of love, that's how you can do this to me just by touching me…my own goddess…"

"Heh," Willow chuckled, one hand vanishing under the water to locate the errant soap, "in that case, I think this temple should be prepared to receive a prolonged…intimate…visit from its devoted goddess."

She began soaping Tara's chest and abdomen, reaching out her free hand blindly to find the soap dish and take another bar. Soon both hands were at work on Tara's body, caressing her and leaving a foamy lather in their wake, as Tara writhed gently against her, sighing and cooing in her ear.

"You like that baby?" she asked, getting an affirmative moan in reply. "Good…you can look forward to this every day, you know. I want to take good care of you, my beautiful goddess…can we both be each other's goddesses?"

"Yay," Willow murmured, "well then, stand up, my goddess, so I can bless you all over. Consider it a ritual…a ceremony of adoration…"

"I adore you," Tara smiled, lithely getting to her knees and rising out of the water. Once she stood upright, she leaned back a fraction, stretching her arms out above her and grasping both hands around the shower head. "All yours," she purred.

Willow stayed low, prowling through the water to Tara's legs, beginning the task of lathering them with soap, in the wake of her lips which pressed kisses constantly to her glowing skin. Slowly she worked her way up Tara, conscientiously bestowing her affections and attention to every inch of her body. When she reached Tara's thighs an excited shudder passed through the body stretched out before her, and then, as her lips and hands touched her mound, her fingers dipping lower to touch between her legs, a sound rose from Tara's through that became a song, slow and rhythmic, the husky, sultry way Tara sang the words sending images of ecstatic coupling through Willow's mind.

As she continued in her worship of Tara's body, Willow caught words and phrases here and there in the song her lover sang for her: 'bless this day,' 'my simple world becomes paradise,' 'in your arms, my goddess, I am whole,' 'all joy fate gives me, I give to you, for I am yours…' She couldn't decipher every word, for the song was in High Amazonian, with many complicated words and phrases Willow had not yet mastered, and Tara sang in a soft, purring voice that often merged the syllables into one long, melodic sigh of pleasure, yet enough reached her ears to discern the song's meaning – and even if it hadn't, she could feel it as surely as if it had been spelled out, in the motions of Tara's body beneath her hands. A song of worship, of praise, of devotion…and ultimately, of fulfillment, of a soul which had found its place in the world.

Soon, as Willow neared the completion of her ministrations, Tara's voice fell to a whisper, and finally was swallowed as Willow's mouth closed over hers. Willow's kiss was gentle and suppliant, as if opening a channel by which Tara's song of praise could pass into herself and be accepted within her. Both women sighed as the kiss ended, and for a moment they stood silent and motionless, embracing, cheek to cheek, their chests pressing together as they breathed.

"Your turn?" Willow finally whispered, finding Tara's hands and letting the bars of soap slip into them.

"Actually," Tara smiled, "I've got a better idea." She took the soap from Willow, but then tightened her hug, pressing her body up against Willow as close as she could, then slowly bending her knees to lower herself, while Willow remained standing.

"Oh…goddess…that's so…ah…" Willow sighed incoherently as Tara's body slid against hers, supple and slippery. Tara pressed her face to Willow's chest as she descended, her cheek sliding down between Willow's breasts and over her stomach, finally resting against her mound as her knees reached the bottom of the tub, her body pressed against Willow's legs, her arms wrapped tightly around her thighs, and her hands firmly gripping the flesh of her bottom.

"See?" she murmured, her breath tickling the hair crowning Willow's sex, "all soapy now…Now, turn around – no, wait! I can't resist…" Before Willow could move she dipped her head down, and reached out her tongue to its full length, pressing it against the soaking folds of Willow's sex.

"Oh! Oh baby, ah, aaah! Mmmm…oh…" Willow breathed as Tara's tongue slid between her lips, gathering moisture, before Tara pulled back and licked her lips hungrily. Willow let her head fall forward to see her lover staring back up at her, grinning unashamedly.

"Oh goddess baby," Willow sighed, "it's been so long since I felt your tongue in me like that…much more and there won't be a 'later,' I'll come right here…"

"Oh, there'll be a 'later' all right," Tara grinned as she slid elegantly around Willow's legs to embrace them from behind. "It's going to be a long, long time before you come, baby…I'm going to tease you so high…" She slowly started rising up, pressing herself against Willow's back as she went, gyrating slightly to work the soap between them into a lather.

"I'm going to taste you," she purred, her lips against Willow's spine, "lick you…squeeze your nipples between my teeth…nibble on your lips…your clit…I'm going to reach inside you, so deep, my love…touch all your secret places…" Her hands wandered up Willow's front, flattening against her stomach, "gentle caresses…and hard, deep thrusts," she punctuated herself by gripping Willow's breasts firmly, squeezing. Willow moaned and shuddered in her arms, Tara holding her upright, pressing in behind her.

"I'm going to keep you on the edge so long," she whispered in her ear, "so long…you'll forget everything else…you won't remember any sound besides your own moaning…any warmth but my body against you… you'll forget what it's like to touch anything but me…forget what it's like to not have my tongue in your mouth…you'll forget it's even possible to not have me inside you…"

"And then," Tara whispered, "then…then I'll take you higher…until you see the clouds below you…and when you can't even remember what you're begging me for," she licked Willow's ear, "then I'll take you over the edge…and we'll fly together."

"Oh gods," Willow babbled, "oh gods, you're so amazing baby, you are a goddess…no human could make me feel this good, it's just not possible…" Tara smiled and kissed her neck, gently lowering them both down into the water, her hands gently stroking all over Willow's body, brushing the soap away. Once they were both lying down, propped up against the edge of the bath, Willow rolled over in Tara's embrace and kissed her, fiercely parting her lips and thrusting her tongue inside, making Tara's mind swirl with delight, her hands joining Tara's, roaming over both their bodies.

"Okay then," she finally gasped, her lips still hot against Tara's, "shall we declare this bath a success and move on?"

"Most definitely," Tara agreed. She quickly brushed a last kiss against Willow's lips, then ducked her head down beneath the water for a moment, rising back up with her wet hair clinging to her neck and shoulders.

"I'm getting some pretty good ideas already about what's going to happen," Willow smiled, before ducking her own head to soak her hair. Tara trailed her fingers over her cheeks as she resurfaced, whispering against her lips: "Keep those ideas in mind…we've got plenty of time… for anything you might dream up."

With a sly smile she rose out of the tub and held out a hand to Willow, helping her to her feet, and both of them crossed to the wooden bench, taking towels from their hooks on the wall. They dried each other thoroughly, enjoying the friction of the towels rubbing over their bodies. Tara leaned back and lifted her legs up onto the end of the bench, over the top of Willow's thighs, and regarded Willow with sultry eyes as she pressed her towel around her legs and rubbed them vigorously.

Willow dried Tara's hair gently, massaging her scalp through the towel, as Tara leaned against her and sighed with pleasure. When her hair was as dry as it could be made, Tara returned the favor, laying a towel over her lap and guiding Willow down to rest her cheek against her thighs as she dried her.

"I'll just be a moment," she whispered, "will you see to the bath and the towels?"

"Love you," Willow replied as Tara stood and walked slowly to the door, swaying her hips deliberately in the certain knowledge that Willow's full attention was on her legs and bottom.

Tara knew Willow wouldn't be long, so she quickened her pace once she had left the bathroom. First she saw to the fireplace, stacking a few extra logs on the fire Willow had started to ensure it would burn slowly for a good portion of the night. She moved around the room extinguishing about half of the candles, leaving a warm glow that lent rich shadows and soft highlights, and then busied herself arranging the bedclothes for what she mad in mind. Finally, hearing the door open behind her, she reached into the drawer and found the small bottle she had discovered earlier, holding it behind her back as she turned to see Willow posing sexily against the doorframe.

"Ready for me?" Willow murmured. She straightened and swayed into the room, glancing around. "Sexy candlelight," she went on, "warm fire… big, inviting bed…my Tara. Exactly as promised on all those cold nights out in the wilderness…only so much better in reality." She stopped in front of Tara and tilted her head up to kiss her softly on the lips.

"What've you got there?" she asked impishly, nudging the arm Tara was holding behind her back. Tara dutifully produced the bottle, holding it up for Willow to read the label.

"'Honeydew essence'," she read, "that's from Lut Gholein, it's a kind of…massage oil," she finished, a wide grin spreading over her face.

"I found it in the drawers while I was putting our armor away," Tara said, leading Willow to the bed, "there's a whole load of oils and scents… but this one is special." She sat down with Willow next to her, their thighs pressed together.

"We get shipments of honeydew at home," she explained, "and it's used in a very special ritual…well, more of a tradition…When a couple decide it's time, they use this to prepare themselves to make love to each other."

"Each partner takes the oil," Tara said softly, "and rubs it into their lover's body…all over. The oil itself doesn't really do anything, except feel good of course, but the act of touching lets the new lovers feel at ease with each other, so they have no hesitation in touching each other anywhere they want. I didn't have any with me," she added with a sheepish smile, "I didn't know I'd meet the love of my life on this trip… and I know we don't exactly have a problem touching each other," Willow chuckled, her lips pressed against the side of Tara's breast, "but I'd like to do this anyway…because it's traditional…and because the idea of your hands all over me, making me glisten before you take me…"

"Lie down," Tara said gently, pulling the tiny stopper out of the bottle, "relax completely…" Willow obediently lay back, lifting her legs onto the expansive bed, as Tara adjusted her position, kneeling beside her. "Roll over," Tara murmured, which she quickly did. Tara smiled down at her, pouring a small amount of oil into her palm before setting the bottle within easy reach on a bedside table.

"I want you to know what a pleasure this is," she said, rubbing her hands together before placing them gently on the soles of Willow's feet, beginning slow circular motions with her palms that left the skin gleaming in their wake. "An absolute joy…to touch you like this. To feel my hands relaxing you. To know that you, Willow, my goddess, give me this complete freedom, to touch you anywhere…love you any way. Just by lying there, accepting my touch, you give me such pleasure…"

Her hands continued up the back of Willow's legs, working the oil into her skin and muscles, kneading her flesh. Her progress along her thighs was slow, luxurious, caressing her with such ease, such gentle intensity, that Willow relaxed beyond the need to writhe from the pleasure, instead simply accepting it into herself. Tara could practically feel the heat radiating off her center as her fingers strayed between her thighs.

She paused for a moment for more oil, then applied her hands to Willow's bottom, spending a long time massaging the soft flesh there, smiling as she heard small, gentle sounds of pleasure from Willow's throat. She let a finger slip between her cheeks, and her smile widened at Willow's slight intake of breath as her fingertip touched in passing the small entrance there. Instead of flinching away, Willow seemed to relax even more, arching her back slightly, leaving herself even more vulnerable to Tara's caresses. Tara gathered a quantity of oil on her fingertip and ran it firmly along the path between her cheeks, thoroughly enjoying Willow's delighted shiver, before she moved further upwards.

"I could do this all my life," she murmured, working oil into Willow's back, "just touch you, press my fingers into you, give you pleasure… this, and nothing more, and I would be the luckiest woman in the world. To do so much more than this…I'm in heaven." She straddled Willow's back, staying upright so as not to get any oil on her thighs – that was for Willow to see to – and firmly massaged her shoulders and neck, working her way down her arms and finally surrounding each finger individually, gently stroking each one in her palms.

"Turn over now," she said quietly. Willow stretched slightly and rolled in place, with Tara still kneeling over her, staring down with the utmost adoration. She reached again for Willow's hands and began tracing her path backwards, up her arms, over her shoulders, up her neck and around her face, and down onto her chest. She took her time holding Willow's breasts in her palms, gently moving her fingers to cover her with oil, making sure she missed nothing as Willow closed her eyes and let the most utterly blissful sighs well up in her throat and escape through wet, parted lips. She moved further down, leaving Willow's bosom glistening in the firelight, her nipples standing to attention. She made sure to cover Willow's sides, wanting to leave nothing, not even the tiniest part of her, untouched, then ran her hands over her stomach and came to her hips. Shifting herself down to kneel on either side of her legs, Tara pressed her palms firmly into Willow, caressing her in long, slow sweeps that covered her from waist to knees.

Without a word Willow parted her thighs and presented her center to her lover. Her folds already gleamed with moisture, but Tara nonetheless reached a hand between her legs and covered her, pressing her palm into her exquisite softness. Willow tilted her head back and gave a primal moan as Tara's palm and fingers slowly moved from the lowest point of her sex upwards, through the soft, moist lips, grazing across her clit, rubbing oil into her silky curls last of all. With Willow's heady sighs echoing in her ears, Tara quickly finished covering her legs, finishing again at her feet.

Her work completed she sat back on the edge of the bed, and for a moment simply looked at Willow, feeling her body stir at the sight. Laid out before her, crimson firelight glinting off the curves of her small, firm muscles, glowing, gleaming all over the length of her naked form, Willow seemed transformed. No longer Willow the sorceress, the occasional adventurer, the scholar, she was now, from the top of her scarlet- crowned head to the tips of her toes, Willow the lover. Erotic, sexual, her gaze when she looked at Tara promising delights beyond the fevered imaginings of mortals, her body a paradise of secrets to be discovered, and pleasures to be shared.

"Uh-huh," Tara sighed, fighting to control the lustful urges that sprang up in her as she watched Willow move, that glorious body lithe, sensual in motion, as she sat up and leaned forward, reaching for the oil for herself. She waved an arm along the length of the bed, and Tara quickly lay down, feeling the heat from Willow's body still in the sheets beneath her, and the traces of moisture where the oil had soaked in. She closed her eyes, and after a moment felt Willow's hands on her feet, copying her own motions.

"This is a good tradition," Willow murmured, working her way over Tara's ankles and up her shins, "just lying here, feeling you touch me everywhere…with no hesitation, no nervousness…oh baby," she whispered, massaging up Tara's calves to her thighs, "oh baby, the things I imagined while you touched me…and then, when you were done…when I was all oiled up, and you looked at me, oh goddess, I swear I almost came…just from the hunger…the way you stared, like you were devouring me with your eyes…" Tara felt her weight shift on the bed, straddling her legs, as her palms moved up over her bottom and hips.

"Do you feel the way I do?" Willow asked quietly. "Are you having the same fantasies…feeling my hands all over you, just like yours were all over me? I felt myself turn to liquid…your hands sunk into me…your whole body pressing against me, through me…sinking into me…filling me, making love to me from inside…becoming one body…one sex… coming, again and again…endlessly…"

"Yessss," Tara hissed, her mind full of Willow's fantasies, feeling herself become a part of Willow, Willow become part of her. Part of her wanted to beg Willow, to plead from the depths of her soul to be taken right now, this very instant…but she held herself in check, willing her hungry sex to lay still, with silent promises of the climax to come, soon. As if sensing her mood Willow's caresses had become faster, more urgent, working the oil into her body, firmly pressing into her muscles, gripping her flesh as her hands moved down Tara's arms.

"Turn over," Willow purred, "let me finish getting that sexy body of yours ready to come…" Tara's breathing was loud and heavy, intakes of breath hissing through clenched teeth, released in deep sighs, as she rolled over beneath Willow and lay there, naked and exposed to her lustful gaze. Willow leant down and began kissing all over her body, gracing every inch of skin with her lips before massaging oil into it. Tara's occasional moans became constant as Willow kissed her way beneath her jaw, down onto her chest, sucking each nipple to attention before enveloping her breasts in her hands, squeezing hard with strong fingers, pressing into her flesh.

Tara groaned and writhed like a wild animal when Willow finally reached her sex, pressing her hands against it one after the other, covering her with oil and heat, and her breath came in gasps as Willow worked down her legs, erasing the last areas of skin that had not yet been touched, laying claim to her body completely. She opened her eyes and looked up as Willow's hands left her feet, and gazed at her lover, kneeling by her side.

"I love you," Willow echoed, leaning down, bringing her lips almost close enough to kiss, brushing against Tara's lips as she breathed.

"And now," Tara said, her voice low and deliberate, coming to her as if from a dream, "I am going to make love to you, Willow. I am going to take you, and give myself to you, and we will make love until the night is spent, until our bodies are completely exhausted, and until we have tasted every pleasure we can imagine." She gently reached up, pulled Willow down, and kissed her deeply, swallowing her moan as their tongues met and caressed. The kiss slowly shed its languor, becoming more and more urgent, until Willow finally pulled her lips from Tara's.

"Now take me, you beautiful goddess," she gasped, "take me and make me scream your name." Without a pause Tara's hands were on her arms holding her, and together they rolled over until Willow was pinned beneath her. Her mouth found Willow's again, and this time parted her lips with barely an effort, plunged her tongue inside, demanding and taking everything Willow had to offer. Their bodies thrust against each other, fighting to press as much skin against skin as possible, burning with need. Tara lifted her hips off Willow and planted her knees on either side of her, spreading her thighs wide, as she reached down to cup her sex in one hand, the other twined in her hair, holding her as she kissed her. A guttural moan welled up from Willow and vanished into Tara's mouth as her fingers parted her folds, two fingertips sliding through the slick petals to rest against her entrance.

"Say please," Tara teased, moving her lips to Willow's ear, so nothing would obstruct her as she gave voice to the climax about to tear through her.

"Uhhnn," Willow moaned as Tara nibbled on her earlobe, "please…oh goddess, pleeease!"

Willow's head turned, she met Tara's eyes, and for a moment both were still, their gazes locked in shared acknowledgement of what was about to occur. Both sensed it, both knew: complete submission, complete acceptance, as deep and profound as if Willow were putting her life in Tara's hands.

Tara stared deeply into her eyes, and her hand thrust, burying two fingers within Willow, delving into her sex, hammering against her sweet spot, in one motion sending her hurtling over the edge into a mind- blowing climax.

"Tara!" Willow shrieked as her body arched off the bed, lifting Tara with her, as her hands clamped around Tara's biceps with crushing strength, as her sex clenched at her fingers, capturing Tara within her, denying her any possibility of escape as a river of hot, liquid arousal coursed through her and out of her, covering Tara's hand. Tara clung to her, her thighs tight around Willow's, riding her, staying astride her as she bucked and thrashed, and just when it seemed she would begin to calm, to return to awareness of anything but the crushing, crashing waves of pleasure, she began to thrust her fingers inside her.

"Oh, oh, uh, uh, uh," Willow grunted as a second climax built within her, giving her barely the moment she needed to flutter open her eyes and meet Tara's intense, lustful stare, before once more all the energy in her body flowed to her core to burst free again. This time Tara couldn't deny herself – her muscles tightened as her own sex pulsed and released its bounty of honey, trickling in trails down the insides of her thighs and onto Willow's.

"Tara," Willow moaned, her eyes opening again as her pleasure achieved a plateau, allowing her a moment to gather her thoughts even as she continued to tense and shudder at the motions of Tara's fingers inside her. "Oh baby, oh wonderful…feel that baby, feel me tighten around you, feel me come for you…it's all for you baby…oh goddess… all yours, all that sweetness flowing out of me, it's yours, every drop… feel that softness clenching around your fingers, that's all yours…deep inside, all yours…I'm yours…I'm yours…I'm…I…I…ah…ah, ah, Tara, yes, yes!"

With the wetness of a third orgasm coating her hand, Tara withdrew from Willow and lay her body down on top of her, covering her. She met her gaze once more and brought her hand up to her lips, very slowly and deliberately sucking the juice from her index finger before offering the other to Willow. Willow's hand closed around her wrist and she sucked in each finger in turn, before licking all over her palm, the back of her hand, right down to her wrist, gathering every drop of her own arousal with every appearance or orgasmic joy.

"Oh there is," Willow promised, "but right now, it's your turn to come like a wild beast." With that, Willow firmly gripped her hips and urged her up, one hand delving between Tara's legs as soon as she came to kneel over her, thighs resting around her waist.

"Yes," Tara moaned as, in one motion, Willow's fingers parted her lips and thrust into her dripping channel, "oh yes, oh yes, yes, yes…" She alternately arched her back, crushing her sex down onto Willow's hand as she moaned to the bed's canopy above her, and leaned forward, exulting in the sensation of Willow's fingers rising inside her.

"Willow, Willow, Willow!" she howled as she came, the strength failing in her legs, leaving her to thrust down onto Willow, supported by her, trapping her hand as her sex redoubled the flow of moisture emanating from her core. As soon as she had the strength she leaned forward, reaching down to kiss Willow firmly, hoping to somehow pour all her love into her through their joined lips. She lifted herself off Willow's fingers and spread her knees wide, pressing her soaked mound against Willow's thigh and grinding her hips, feeling Willow do the same as her own thigh slipped between her legs.

"I love you," she whispered into the kiss, "I love you, I love you, oh, goddess, oh baby you're so hot, so wet, so soft…" She deepened the kiss for a moment, opening her jaw wide to cover Willow's mouth, then leaned back, an aroused glint in her eyes.

"Stay there," she breathed, leaning back. In one fluid motion she rolled back off her knees to sit between Willow's legs, stretching her own legs up on either side of Willow. One leg she bent back and then slid beneath Willow's left thigh, the other she left resting over the top of Willow's right side.

"This is called 'leas-ti'," she purred, "the body's kiss." She settled back on her side, reached down to grasp Willow's thighs, one in front, one behind, and shifted her hips towards Willow, fitting against her perfectly, pressing her sex against Willow's.

"Oh! Goddess…soft…" Willow breathed in wonder, as she felt the moist warmth cover her, and her own folds pulse in reply. She reached down to hold Tara's thighs, as Tara was doing for her, and began to gyrate her hips as Tara was doing, doubling the sensation washing through her.

"Come, baby," Tara called to her, raising her voice, leaning on her arms to look down the length of her body, to where she and Willow were joined, "come for me, come all over me, let me taste you in my core, oh baby, oh, oh goddess, get ready baby, it's coming, oh goddess, oh, oh, coming, oh, oh, ah!" As her center once more flowed and burst with warmth, this time accompanied by the delicious sensation of Willow's arousal coursing across her folds, Tara lost all control of her body and sank back onto the sheets, writhing slowly with indescribable pleasure, her eyes closed, her lips searching for her lover's kiss. She was vaguely aware of Willow moving, then her lips were there, kissing her, loving her.

"Taste our climax," Willow whispered in her ear, then Tara felt her kneel on either side of her head, Willow's scent, flavored with her own, filled her lungs, and the gentle softness of her sex descended on her lips. Tara wrapped her arms around Willow's thighs and lapped greedily at her, opening her eyes to stare up, meeting Willow's gaze as she thrust her tongue deeper…

Much, much later…Tara and Willow lay in each other's arms, exhausted in the wake of countless delightful pleasures. Unable to summon the strength even to stir, they lay together, each with a thigh pressed against the other's mound, slick with the evidence of a night's ceaseless passion, and the fresh juice of their most recent climax. They faced each other on the pillows, foreheads resting against each other, each breathing heat across the other's cheeks. In the fireplace the fire had long since gone out, and only a few of the candles around the room still burned at the bottom of their length, the rest having gone out.

"Aaaaahhhh," Willow sighed weakly, "aahh…oh baby…I…oh," she yawned, "I can't move…"

"Darn right," Willow muttered, managing to summon just enough strength to tighten her arms around Tara. "I love you…" She opened her eyes to stare into Tara's, then her gaze was caught by something behind her and the glanced up.

"Oh, hey," she said weakly, "look…" Tara managed to turn her head over on the pillow to see the window facing east, where the slits in the shutters were glowing faintly with dawn's light.

"You did indeed," Willow replied, "you did…indeed…c'mere lover…" Tilting her head slightly she brought her lips to Tara's and kissed her, and where it seemed neither of them had the energy to move, after a moment their embrace tightened, their legs stirred and shifted against each other, and their hips slowly shuddered, pressing forward. Willow's lips became more lively, more insistent, and Tara somehow found the will to press herself into Willow's kiss, no longer merely accepting it, but actively offering herself.

"Mmmm," Willow murmured, "mmm, oh…oh goddess you're a miracle…" In defiance of her exhaustion she gripped Tara tightly, wrapping her body around her, and whispered in her ear: "Make me scream one more time…"

Willow awoke to a kiss from Tara, which was enough to keep her from wishing she were back asleep. But only just.

"It's getting close to midday," Tara replied. She smiled, though Willow could see she was feeling their lack of sleep as well.

"Believe me, I wouldn't be awake otherwise," Tara grinned, shaking her head from side to side as she sat up, sending her hair flying around her. Willow spent a moment admiring her as she made her way to the edge of the bed and got to her feet, then reluctantly stretched and propped herself upright on her elbows.

"Feeling okay?" Tara asked, rounding the bed and leaning over to her for another kiss.

"Lovely," Willow said, licking her lips, "absolutely lovely…admittedly, tired, and I'm not entirely sure I'll ever be able to close my legs again…" Tara laughed, and gave her a kiss on her shoulder as she leant back.

"We'll wake up soon enough," she said, stretching up on her toes, the tips of her fingers reaching towards the roof beams, "a quick shower, something to eat…besides, we're old hands at this 'no sleep' thing. Remember walking all night after fighting a gigantic goat-man champion?"

"Ugh," Willow groaned, swinging her legs around to the floor, "I'm trying not to… you're right, though. If we're going to be thoroughly exhausted, this is a much better way of going about it. You mentioned a shower?"

"I thought we could share," Tara said innocently, "it'd save time. And of course, it's probably not easy to get water all the way up here to the top of a tower, and that boiler you mentioned probably takes a lot of effort to keep hot. I think we should do our best not to needlessly waste water."

"Right," Willow grinned, taking her hand and accompanying her to the bathroom, "in fact, if you think about it that way, it's practically our duty, as responsible guests, to shower together, and help bathe each other, and cuddle and kiss…"

"I don't think that last part could technically be considered necessary for being a good guest," Tara smiled.

"Shush, you," Willow insisted, putting on a comically formal voice, "it's our duty, I say."

"Well, if you say so," Tara purred, playing with the taps until the shower spluttered into life. She experimented until the water was just right – hot, but not painfully hot – and then gave Willow a sly glance and stepped into the tub, walking right through the streaming water and turning beneath it, extending a hand to Willow as droplets cascaded down her body.

"This kissing," she murmured as Willow took her hand and joined her under the shower, resting her head against Tara's shoulder as they embraced, "is it kissing anywhere in particular, or…?"

"I was thinking general kissage," Willow replied, tickling Tara's skin with her lips, "you know…all over. Apart from lunch, what do you have to do today?" She started washing Tara, her caresses and passes with the soap liberally interspersed with kisses on her shoulders and arms, down her back and across her stomach.

"Oh…well, Tryptin will have a schedule," Tara said, trying to keep her mind on talking, which became difficult whenever Willow's lips touched her, "I suppose…seeing as they didn't know when we'd be here…he'd have arranged meetings with just the emissaries and negotiators…so…ahhh," she sighed as Willow began soaping her breasts beneath the flow of water, "so…probably…nothing much…for a day or two. After that, it'll…be a lot like it was at the Baron's castle…meeting dignitaries, and…ooh…just being an Amazon, really."

"No trouble there," Willow commented, "you do that so well…that armor…oh, baby," she smiled, as her mouth closed around Tara's nipple. Tara leaned against the wall behind her, taking the soap from Willow with trembling hands and rubbing it all over her shoulders and back, as Willow held her nipple gently in her teeth and alternately licked and sucked.

"Oh goddess," Tara moaned, "that feels so good baby…so good…come up here and kiss me."

Willow worked her way up Tara's neck, trailing her bottom lip against her skin all the way, finally reaching her mouth where Tara captured her and kissed her deeply and thoroughly. Willow's moans took on an added note of urgency when Tara's hands slid down her back and cupped her bottom, squeezing firmly. Tara leant back a fraction, and for a breathless moment they stayed still, staring into each other's eyes.

"So, then," Tara whispered, "what do you have planned for today? Let's see how well you can think with a ravenous pair of lips all over you," she added in an undertone, gripping her hips firmly and lowering herself down to Willow's chest level.

"Huh? Oh…heh…um, probably nothing mu – oooh," she moaned as Tara extended her tongue to lick her nipples, keeping her eyes locked with Willow's all the while.

"Um," Willow desperately continued, smiling as her head spun, "there's letters of introduction from…oh gods…from the Order, I had them in my bags, so they'll…they… goddess," Tara licked a path down her stomach, as her hands rose up to cup her breasts and continue to stimulate her jutting nipples.

"They'll still be…in our wagon…in…oh…goddess," Willow gasped. Tara was rubbing her cheek against the soft hair between her legs, making an aroused growling sound in the back of her throat.

"Yes, please," Willow moaned without thinking. "Oh, you mean me…heh…um, the letters are just to…to…oh baby…um, to let everyone know who I…I am…goddess you're a tease," she gasped as Tara's tongue licked across her mound, up her inner thighs, everywhere but where Willow desperately wanted it. "Um, various mages the Order has dealing with, to let them know I'm here…ask for some of their time, to…oh please…to instruct me in the theory of their work…"

"And they'll tutor you?" Tara asked, resting her cheek against Willow's thigh and breathing in the scent of her arousal.

"Well, it…gods…depends, on how much time they have to spare, and…a-and whether they want to…I'm going to go utterly insane, you know that? Uh, the Zann Esu are pretty influential, so probably…they'll give me some time to work with them…to please the Order…Ember said she…ah…she's had some correspondence with the court mage…here…Tara, please…he'll probably…let me study with him…oh goddess, kiss me…"

"The court mage is going to kiss you?" Tara asked impishly, breathing warm air onto the moist folds of Willow's sex. Willow laughed and stared down at her.

"You know darn well what I mean," she accused, as Tara grinned up at her devilishly.

"You need my tongue inside you," Tara went on, holding Willow's attention completely, "tasting from your core."

"You want to wind your fingers in my hair," she whispered, "hold my lips against you…press yourself onto my mouth…cover me with your juices…don't you?"

"Oh goddess," Willow moaned, "yes!" Some tiny, sane part of her wondered if there was any limit to Tara's ability to arouse her, with the way she moved, talked, touched her. 'I mean, gods,' she thought to herself giddily, 'we've barely had any rest after a whole, entire night of non-stop pleasure, and here we are, at it again. And I need it! When did I turn into Miss Libido?'

Tara kissed her firmly on the lips, working her mouth open briefly before leaving her gasping as she ducked back down between her legs.

'Oh yeah, that's right,' Willow chuckled inwardly, 'whenever she kisses me like that. Wheeee…' Her internal monologue fell silent as the feel of Tara's mouth on her sex reduced her thoughts to a swirling, wordless mass of desire and pleasure.

Coming down the spiral staircase from their room, Willow and Tara found the attendant who had escorted them up the day before with another member of the Palace's staff, chatting idly in the servants' quarters on the floor below. Both stood and bowed, and the attendant abandoned the card game she had been playing out on the table and came to the doorway, while her companion turned his attention to his newspaper.

"Miss Tara, Miss Willow, good day," she said with a polite smile, "do you need lunch?"

"Lissa, Miss," the young woman said, "just Lissa, the 'Miss' is for guests and nobility, you see."

"If you need directions around the Palace, Miss, I know it all," Lissa went on helpfully. "Don't hesitant to ask, as long as you're a guest I'm here to serve you. Or Jesye, she's not here at the moment, but she'll be here from midnight to midday, should you want anything."

"Oh," Willow brightened up, turning to Tara, "how about you go see Tryptin, and I'll pick us up a little snack, and meet you at the wagon?"

"Okay," Tara agreed, "I could use a bite. It's alright," she said to Lissa, who had moved to her side, "I remember the way from yesterday."

"I love you," Willow replied, reaching up for a brief moment to touch Tara's cheek before she turned and continued down the stairway. Willow turned to Lissa, who was blushing somewhat.

"Thanks," Willow replied, following her. They went down two more floors and took a different corridor to the one they had arrived from yesterday, Lissa leading the way confidently through a stately maze of passages, halls and the occasional courtyard, nodding greetings to guards and other servants as they passed on errands of their own.

"It's okay, isn't it?" Willow asked. "I mean, just popping in and grabbing something from the kitchens…they won't mind?"

"Oh, no Miss," Lissa said, "no, there's meals at usual times, of course, but guests can have any meal they want sent to their rooms or served in one of the dining rooms whenever they want. And besides," she added, with a slightly conspiratorial air, "the servants and the kitchen staff mingle pretty often, so they don't mind us taking a snack now and then. It's a huge place, who's going to miss an apple or a sandwich?"

"Good," Willow smiled, as they made their way down a very wide stairway into a long hall, "'cause I don't want to get you into trouble, you know?"

"Thank you Miss," Lissa said, evidently touched by her concern. "Pardon me Miss, but are you a sorceress like the papers say?"

"The newspapers, Miss," Lissa explained, "it's in today's paper that an Amazon and a sorceress arrived yesterday after coming through all the troubled lands down around the old monastery. I mean, obviously they means you and Miss Tara, but you're both dressed like Amazons, only last night you had a staff, like a mage would."

"Oh, yeah," Willow said, looking down at her armor, "she's the Amazon, I'm the sorceress. All our other clothes are still in our wagon. Heh," she chuckled, remembering, "I was just trying this on for fun when we were first attacked, and we got separated from the caravan. Lucky, eh? Whoa, wait, we're in the newspapers? Already?"

"Heh," Willow grinned, "that's the first time I've been news-worthy. That's fast though, how often do they print the papers?"

"Wow," Willow shook her head, "when I was in Kurast the newsmen took a week to put together a circular. Things happen fast in this city, don't they?"

"Oh, not a lot Miss," Lissa told her, "only that you'd been on a caravan that was attacked, and you'd fought demons and rescued a child who was being held hostage by them, and used your magic to hurl fireballs at all the demons who tried to stop you. And Miss Tara, they said, shot dozens of them with arrows like shooting stars. Is that right? Only, every time they report a mage does anything, they always say it's fireballs. Is it really like that?"

"Well, they were exaggerating a little," Willow said, "and I don't do fire. Ice bolts, I can do, fireballs, no. Tara does fire magic though, so yeah, I guess 'shooting stars' is close enough. And the girl wasn't being held hostage, she'd hidden in a tunnel, and we found her."

"Ah," Lissa nodded, "well, I won't fault the newsmen you know, they do a good job and make sure everyone knows the important news…but just between you and me, it wouldn't be the first time they've come up a bit short on details and used their imagination."

"Oh well," Willow shared a smile with the woman, "poetic license isn't just for bards, I guess."

"So it seems, Miss. The Duke's people make sure they don't report the news wrong, mind. Not actually wrong…I suppose they don't think there's any harm in a bit of 'poetic license' in a tale like yours, Miss. But they stick to the rules more or less, so the Duke lets them ask questions and report as they like."

"What rules do they have?" Willow asked, as they came to a corridor full of the inviting scent of baking bread and various other sorts of food cooking.

"Oh, all sorts of things," Lissa said, exchanging a nod with a servant bearing a platter of fruit scurrying past, "I don't know most of it myself. It's only these past couple of years the papers have really started to do business. They do a lot of reporting on the shipping, which is a bit beyond me, I've never been much for business, but they say it's very cut-throat business, and the Duke has people to make sure the papers don't get paid off by merchants to report prices wrong on purpose, if you see what I mean."

"Sounds sensible," Willow commented. Lissa led her into the kitchens, which were cavernous and full of activity, and together they liberated a handful of fruit and a loaf of nutbread, with Lissa giving a wink to a friendly-looking kitchen-hand while the head chef was busy elsewhere.

"Are you here to study with Master Myrreon, Miss?" Lissa asked as they left the kitchens, bound for the stables and wagon shelters. "Forgive me asking, only I've never met a sorceress before, you see."

"It's alright," Willow smiled, "it's nice to have someone to talk to while Tara's busy. And hey, can't have too many friends, right?"

"Myrreon's the Duke's mage?" Willow went on. "Yes, I'll probably be studying with him for a while, a month or two at least."

"That's longer than the papers said the Amazons would stay here," Lissa said, "will Miss Tara…?"

"She's staying with me," Willow said, "eventually we'll go back to the Amazon Islands together."

"That's good, Miss," Lissa said, seeming genuinely pleased. "You'll have an interesting time working with Master Myrreon, Miss. Last year, when I started working here, I got put on the detail that attends to his workshop and quarters. It's like another world in there Miss, huge contraptions you wouldn't dream of, and him working in it like he knew every piece of it by heart."

"He's interested in mechanisms?" Willow asked, curious about the kind of mage she'd be studying with.

"Tell the truth, Miss, I think he's interested in everything. From what I heard, and what the other servants say, he's always working on a dozen different things at once, and perhaps his mind's already thinking about something else besides."

"Well, it should be an interesting time," Willow said, her hopes of learning something new lifting.

Tara was nowhere in sight when Lissa brought Willow to the wagon shelter, which despite its humble-sounding name was in fact a vast enclosed space to one side of the Palace stables, with a smithy and carpentry shop at one end, and enough room for dozens of wagons, carts and coaches, all standing in their own individual stalls awaiting use. Lissa excused herself and headed back towards the Palace's accommodation wing once Willow found the wagon she and Tara had lived in. She walked around it, smiling faintly at the familiar sight of its wooden wheels and canvas roof, the lifted the flap at the back and climbed inside.

"Aw, hello wagon," she said quietly, finding her lovingly-created 'love nest' just as she had left it, with all her books, her and Tara's bags, sitting neatly to either side, untouched. She smiled and threw herself down onto the blankets, enjoying the feeling of them cradling her, remembering all the joys she had shared with Tara among them. For the moment, her immediate goal – to retrieve some suitable clothes for the day from among their bags – was forgotten.

"Heh," she chuckled to herself, rolling over onto her back and gently stroking a hand over her leather-clad breasts. One of her satchels, stuffed in the gap behind a trunk, caught her eye as she lazily looked around, and she got up on her knees and leant over the trunk to reach it.

"Don't move an inch," Tara's voice purred from behind her. Willow jumped slightly – she'd thought she was alone – then smiled and held herself still as she heard Tara climb into the wagon behind her.

"Oh my," Willow grinned to herself, "it's barely any time at all since we, um, shared a shower, and before that a whole night which, let me tell you, I'm still not sure I believe some of the things we did…don't you ever get tired?" she asked, looking back over her shoulder with an alluring smile at the same time as she arched her back slightly, tilting her hips upwards.

"Tired of you?" Tara said, resting her cheek against Willow's hips as her hand trailed slowly up the inside of her thigh, "never."

"Never?" Willow murmured sexily, wiggling her bottom as Tara's fingers reached higher.

"Absolutely never," Tara whispered. "Every time I look at you…no matter where we are, what we're doing…I just want to make love to you…take you, right there…make you feel so good…"

"Hmm," Willow smiled, "well…it just so happens I'm in a very takeable position, aren't I…?"

"You are indeed," Tara agreed, "you know there's people outside…guards and servants, in the stables and wandering around…"

"I know," Willow said, resting her chest against the trunk beneath her, "I just don't care…do you?" Tara's hand had reached the top of her thigh, and was tantalizingly close to her center.

"It wouldn't be the first time we've hidden away in here, with people outside," Tara said, gently moving up to lay on top of Willow, reaching her free hand around her waist to hold her tight. She leaned forward to whisper in Willow's ear, her fingers pushing firmly into the flesh of her thigh as she caressed her.

"Remember that first time you tasted my sex," she whispered, her warm breath tickling Willow's ear, "right here…and just beyond this canvas, the driver was sitting there, with no idea what was happening right behind him…"

"Yeah…until you yelled 'goddess' at the top of your voice…" Willow breathed, amused by the memory, but with Tara's caresses rapidly robbing her of the ability to speak coherently.

"Mmm," Tara purred, "I couldn't help it…you're just too good…even now, just thinking about that first kiss…oh, baby…and it wasn't the last, was it? Oh goddess no, my darling Willow, I've enjoyed your beautiful lips so many times…remember, baby? I do…all the times you've pressed your mouth against me, covered me…reached out inside me…"

"Oh Tara," Willow gasped. Tara grinned, Willow could feel the corners of her mouth turn up against the skin of her neck as she nuzzled against her. Tara's hand snuck up higher, avoiding Willow's core but brushing teasingly across her mound.

"Hmm," Tara murmured, "I was right…I thought I didn't see anything underneath this skirt when you were putting it on."

"I knew," Willow admitted, "I love it when…oh goddess," Tara's fingertips had brushed, ever so lightly, over her clit, "I…I love it…when you…watch me…want me…"

"I want you," Tara whispered in her ear, "I want you right now." Her fingers settled at Willow's entrance, teasing. Tara touched her earlobe with her tongue, and guided it between her lips, sucking gently.

"Oooh goddesssss," Willow hissed through clenched teeth, as her body responded to Tara's touch. Her fingers clutched at the edge of the trunk, fingernails pressing into its leather covering. She felt Tara's free hand leave her waist for a moment, deftly undoing the ties on her skirt, and with a needful groan she spread her legs as the garment fell off her.

"Ready, baby?" Tara whispered into Willow's ear. Her hand flattened across Willow's bottom, two fingertips still just inside her folds. Willow arched her back as far as she could, almost thrusting herself onto Tara's fingers in the process, and tilted her head enough that she could just see Tara grinning at her out of the corner of her eye.

"Take me, you goddess," she breathed. She felt Tara's hand tense on her rear, inhaled sharply in anticipation, and let the breath out as a long, heartfelt sigh as Tara slowly, firmly slid the full length of her fingers into her sex. Even as Willow's sigh became a hushed moan, reveling in the deep sensation, Tara drew back and thrust again, settling into a rhythm that, to Willow, seemed to control her breathing, her heartbeat, and the thrumming muscles deep inside her which clutched at Tara's fingers with every inward stroke.

"Oh…uh…god-dess…uh…Ta-ra…" Willow gasped, her voice coming in bursts with the waves building inside her, "Ta-ra…Ta-ra…yes…yes…yes yes yes-"

"Don't come yet," Tara breathed in her ear. Willow set her jaw and groaned as her core ached for release, to respond to the pleasure Tara was giving her, but she knew without a shadow of a doubt that until Tara's whispered permission graced her ear, she would only become more and more heated, more desperate, as her pleasure mounted without release. Tara's hands guided her, held her, mastered her – the one pressed flat against her stomach, slid between her skin and the leather, seemed to control her, keeping her sex from surging to climax, while her other hand relentlessly piled more and more stimulation, more soaking pleasure, into her.

"Aaaaaaah…" Willow had just enough wit to keep her voice quiet as her throat let loose a sigh of unrepentant submission, obeisance to the chains snaking out of Tara's fingertips, inside her, pressed against her, reaching deep within her to wrap inexorably around her soul. In that moment, Willow knew what it was to belong, to utterly belong, to Tara, to have been taken and made hers, enslaved by Tara's passion, by her heat, by the need in her heart. Only Tara, her perfect Tara, could own her, and in so doing set her freer than she had ever been in her life.

"Now," Tara whispered. Willow hear a roaring in her ears, like the surf of a storm-tossed ocean pounding inside her, then, arching herself back to meet Tara's final, deep thrust, the waves broke on her shore, all around her. Everything around her was swept away – the wagon, the Palace outside, the whole world, all vanished beneath a sea of sensation, save for Tara, pressed against her, whispering pleasure into her ear, holding her as the waves crashed over her again and again. Without that firm hold, the loving, lusty words kissed into her ear and her neck, Willow felt she would have been swept away too.

She came back to reality cradled in Tara's arms, both of them curled around each other among the blankets. Willow felt incredibly content, as if she had just finished a full meal and was relaxing in front of a warm fire, and to her eyes, Tara was glowing with loveliness as she smiled down at her.

"Hey beautiful yourself," Tara replied fondly. "Feel good?" A knowing smile quirked the corners of her lips.

"Hmm," Willow grinned, "you know, maybe – just maybe – if we suddenly both decide to take vows of chastity and, gods forbid, never make love again…I think, when we're old and gray, maybe my body might finally stop tingling with complete pleasure…"

"I don't intend to give you the chance to find out," Tara purred, lightly kissing Willow's neck. "No vow of chastity for me…in fact, I'm taking a vow of Willow-ity. Is that a word?"

"It is now," Willow laughed, as they both sat up. "Hmm…did you happen to notice where my skirt ended up?"

"Are you sure," Tara whispered in her ear, instantly fanning the flames within her back from content flickering to burning need, "I didn't mean for you to walk with me back to our room without it?" Willow gasped at the thought, turning incredulous eyes on Tara.

"I'm practically naked," she whispered. Tara only smiled at her, and Willow realized, with a thrill and a rush of wanton excitement, that if Tara truly wanted her to walk half-naked through the whole Palace, she would. Only then, with that realization shivering down her spine and settling incandescently in her loins, did she notice that Tara's face was just a fraction too expressionless.

"You're teasing me," she accused, even as she was unable to keep the grin from her lips.

"Of course," Tara admitted, ducking her head in admission, and taking the opportunity to flutter a series of kisses across Willow's shoulder. "But just for a second," she went on in a husky whisper, "you were excited…" Her hand, resting on Willow's thigh, shifted slightly, allowing her fingers to trace a path up her thigh and into the moistness of Willow's sex.

"Oh my," she gasped quietly, feeling just how moist Willow was, "very excited."

"I'm never anything else with you around," Willow murmured happily, as Tara reached out and handed her her skirt, "which is convenient, seeing as you have a sex drive that would make a succubus blush."

"Who, me?" Tara feigned innocence, quite convincingly for someone who had, mere moments ago, been gleefully driving her lover to an ecstatic climax. She held her posture for a moment, then leaned up against Willow and kissed her gently on the lips.

"I love…loving you," she said quietly, "you deserve someone who can make you feel this good, always."

"That someone is certainly you," Willow replied, hugging Tara warmly, "and…I do the same for you?"

"You know," Tara whispered, "if we hurry, I think we could spare five minutes in our room before we go out. Maybe I could see to that 'excitement' of yours…?"

As it happened, five minutes became fifteen, and Willow and Tara ended up hurrying out of the Palace so as not to be late. From the luggage they had hastily carried up from the wagon, Willow had selected her emerald Zann Esu outfit, much to Tara's approval, and Tara chose a white tunic and a long, sky blue skirt that Willow proclaimed 'lovely', even if it did cover up her legs.

"How'd your meeting with Tryptin go?" Willow asked as they made their way along the wide boulevard towards Market street, reassured by the various clocks on the storefronts that they had at least enough time to walk.

"Good," Tara said, "like I thought, nothing to do until tomorrow evening. The Duke and his party are attending a performance at the opera house, and all the diplomatic guests are invited. And, if they so choose, allowed to bring along a partner," she added, looking meaningfully at Willow.

"Really? Thank you," Willow gushed, practically bouncing as she hugged Tara in the middle of the street. If there was one advantage to being in such a lively, bustling city, it was that no-one seemed to pay much attention to an exotically-attired sorceress leaping into the arms of her blonde companion. At least, not to the display of affection – Tara, with private amusement, had noticed as they walked along that Willow was drawing more than a couple of appreciative looks from various young men, and the occasional woman. One handsome boy, barely sixteen she guessed, very nearly walked into a gaslight post, his attention was so fixated on the sorceress across the road from him.

"I've never been to an opera," Willow went on. She remained oblivious to the looks she was drawing, attributing the handful she noticed to Tara's presence, which gave her a gleeful pride to be walking hand-in-hand with such a beautiful woman.

"It's not a full opera," Tara explained, "apparently it's a series of shows, sort of a spectacle. Singing, dancing, acrobatics, from what Tryptin's heard at the Palace it's something they do regularly, showing off performers and acts from foreign lands. It's supposed to draw quite a crowd.

"I wonder what they'll have," Willow said. "If there's any singing to rival yours, I'll be impressed."

"I don't know," Tara said, blushing at the compliment, "we'll just have to wait and see. In this city, it could be anything." As if to prove her point, a pair of ginger-haired cat people emerged from the crowd and crossed the street almost directly in front of them. The male wore a loincloth, while the female at his side, who walked with the stately elegance of a queen, wore mere strips of fabric tight across her hips and chest. Tara did a double-take, then managed to control her impulse to stare.

"Um," Willow said quietly, "just out of curiosity…how many breasts did you say Marela had, again?"

"She had a loose robe on," Tara said, unable to keep a little amazement out of her voice, "I guess, could have been…" She glanced around, and was mildly relieved to see she and Willow weren't the only ones who couldn't help but notice the cat-woman's twin pairs of firm breasts, one pair beneath the other.

"Nah," Willow shook her head vehemently, "quality over quantity…two Tara-breasts are worth any number of other breasts. No question about it."

"That's so sweet," Tara grinned. "Why four? Don't cats have six? I mean, cat cats, not cat people cats…"

"Averages out, I guess?" Willow ventured. "I mean, they're human-like, pretty much half-way between a cat and a human…so, two breasts and six breasts average out to four."

"Guess not," Willow admitted, as Tara laughed softly and kissed her on the cheek.

Amalee was overjoyed to see them, and stood amazed at Willow in her sorceress attire. Brydan himself couldn't help but stare for a moment, until Joma nudged him in the ribs with an indulgent smile and the two busied themselves setting the table, while Tara helped and Willow presented a beaming Amalee with a small bag of cinnamon-dusted almonds she had seen at a market stall she and Tara had passed. The girl promised not to eat them all at once, but managed to sneak half a dozen into her mouth during the course of lunch.

"I'm going to go to the science school," she announced proudly, when Tara asked her how she was finding her new home.

"The school of the sciences," Brydan explained, "they set up about ten years ago, young men only for the first couple of years when they were more an apprenticeship school, then some new people came in charge of it and they started taking younger boys, and girls as well. I think my brother meant to send her to someplace like it soon," he added with a regretful note coloring his voice. "She'll certainly learn fast," he went on, brightening, "she reads better than I did at her age."

"We've bought a few storybooks for when the baby's old enough," Joma added, one arm resting proudly around her belly, "and she went through most of them last night."

"Well, you work hard at your school," Willow told her with a fond look, "and hey, you'd be surprised how often science and magic are the same thing."

"Oh yeah," Willow said, "it's all the same, really. Science and magic," she shrugged, "it's all really about what you've got up here." She tapped her forehead, grinning at Amalee. "I bet you'll do really well."

Amalee was all for hearing every detail of Willow and Tara's stay at the Palace, and continued to listen intently as they told her about it in minute detail – excepting their own escapades, of course – until, with regrets and a promise to visit again soon, they took their leave.

"Oh, one thing," Brydan said as they stood in the doorway, while Joma led Amalee back inside after an extended series of hugs, "our baby, that my wife's carrying…the healer seers say it'll be a boy, and…" he looked hesitant, then went on: "we talked last night, and if it's alright with you both…we thought 'William Taran'…? Considering what you've done for our family, you see…"

"I'm honored," Willow said, giving Tara a moment to recover as her eyes welled up with happy tears.

"Good," Brydan said, relief obvious in his expression, "good…well, we'll look forward to seeing you in a couple of days, then. Be well. Enjoy your studies, Miss Willow."

"How about that, huh?" Willow said cheerfully as they headed back towards the markets, hand in hand.

"It's going to take a while to settle in," Tara admitted, "for an Amazon, having a child named for you…it's like an affirmation of everything that you are."

"Or you," Tara replied, "my lovely Willow." They paused in the street for a moment, sharing a brief, sweet kiss, before continuing on their way.

"And we've got the whole afternoon to ourselves," Tara agreed, "and somehow, considering I spent the whole night making love with a beautiful, insatiable nymph, I'm not tired." She gave Willow a grin. "Let's shop."

Note: Includes a well-deserved nod to Washi's 'The Sex Journals', but overall this chapter is dedicated to Debra (author of 'Please'), Mistress Tara and her Kitten – there aren't any specific references to that fic, but I'm darned sure this chapter would've turned out a whole lot different if I hadn't read it.

Willow and Tara browsed aimlessly through the Market Hall, pausing whenever something caught their eye. All manner of wares were on display, from all kinds of vendors – fast-talking salesmen did a brisk trade in cheap jewelry, herbs and clothing from rickety little tables covered in gaudy cloths and boxes of miscellany; professional market vendors stood behind canvas stalls, with colorful banners overhead proclaiming their specialties, and most of their stock neatly stored behind them with a few samples on display; affluent craftsmen sat idly behind their counters, reading newspapers or canvas- bound books while shoppers drifted by and admired their handiwork on show; painters, potters and sculptors worked on their latest pieces while assistants pointed out their skills to passers-by and promised their work would be an asset to any home or place of business; a few grand stalls, like whole buildings made from canvas and wooden frames, housed entire stores, groceries teeming with shoppers selecting the ingredients for the evening's meal, clothiers taking measurements from expensively-dressed men with assistants standing by, notebooks in hand, boutiques full of all manner of ladies' fashions, with changing rooms set up behind screens, and even in one particularly high-end establishment a pair of women modeling the store's dressed on a raised platform. There were apothecaries, herb and potion merchants, hairdressers, florists, book sellers, tinkers and carpenters; cooks selling hot food from portable stoves, scribes offering their time to write legal documents or important letters, actors, jugglers, acrobats and contortionists drawing a steady flow of applause, and small coins into the baskets set out in front of them. Stores sold parchment, house plants, wine, carpets, leathergoods, baskets, oils, fruit and vegetables, exotic perfumes and dyes, spices, even adorable puppies and kittens, along with all manner of toys to keep them entertained. Vendors extolled the virtues of their wares alongside preachers speaking to small congregations of interested bystanders, steam hissed from stoves and hotplates, pigeons cooed among the massive beams holding the cavernous hall's roof up, and blanketing it all was the steady humming of hundreds of voices speaking at once.

"I think I could comfortably stay here for a few weeks," Willow said, leading Tara over to a stand selling paper, parchment, scrolls and books of blank pages bound in leather. Tara smiled fondly and popped a roasted chestnut into her mouth from the bag they had bought from a trolley somewhere behind them. She paused for a moment to run her eyes across a table of silk scarves, and by the time she caught up Willow was already engaged in intense negotiation over a thick volume in her hands.

"Five crowns," the vendor was insisting, "the leather in the cover alone is worth three!"

"If that's so, whoever sold it to you went away laughing," Willow countered, "two and a half, and that's more than I'd pay in Gotunberg markets."

"We're a long way from Gotunberg," the vendor fired back, "and shipping ain't cheap. Four."

"Don't try to tell me it costs more to ship a book to Entsteig than it does to Westmarch," Willow scowled, "come on, this was probably made within a day's ride of here. Two and six silvers."

"For the both?" the vendor asked, apparently appalled at the suggestion. "Three five, and that's my final offer. If that won't do, you're welcome to buy elsewhere."

"Done," said the vendor, surprising Tara who hadn't encountered this definition of 'final offer' before. Willow and the vendor, who had both been glaring fiercely a moment ago, were now all smiled, and shook hands amiably.

"Am I missing something?" Tara asked as Willow fished the agreed price out of her coin purse and stuffed her new acquisitions into her satchel.

"A bit," Tara said, "not like that…I was wondering if I'd have to separate you two," she added with a cheeky smile.

"Oh, that's nothing," Willow said airily, "you should see the Suk in Lut Gholein. There's a place where they know how to haggle. Of course, they practically invented it. Heh, I remember the first time I went there, I was with Ember and she took me when she went to get some potions. She and the alchemist were arguing like mortal enemies, I swear I was worried he'd pull a sword and she'd blast his stall into the harbor, and then they hit a price, and in no time they're laughing and swapping stories."

"Yeah, pretty much," Willow agreed. "In Lut Gholein it's almost part of their culture. If you're not willing to call on about fifteen different gods and invoke half a dozen colorful plagues on your opponent, you're not haggling hard enough. This place is pretty tame, but it looks like they've got the hang of it – probably a lot of Aranoch merchants come here, and the locals picked up the basic idea from them."

"This is good workmanship, for three and a half crowns," Tara said, fishing the book out of Willow's bag and turning it over in her hands.

"It is, isn't it?" Willow grinned. "I probably could've got him down to three and two silvers, but I don't mind being a little generous when the merchandise is good. Besides, he was being a good sport."

"Yeah, but this one will be different," Willow said with a twinkle in her eye. "I was thinking, if you like, we could keep another journal, besides the one we've got. I mean, places we've been and things we've seen are all good and fine to record, but…well, I'd kind of like to keep a journal of the other things we've done." She grinned suggestively at Tara.

"Other things," Tara said, confused, "what do – oh," her eyes widened, "oh…well, it's certainly worth recording. Sort of a, a sex journal?"

"Not that I'm going to forget any of it, ever," Willow said earnestly, "but, wouldn't it be fun now and then, say if we're on a trip, not really in private…well, we could snuggle up somewhere and read together?"

"Hmm, I like the sound of that," Tara murmured, leaning in close to Willow to be heard over the noise of the crowd. "I'd love to read how you record our…adventures." Willow smiled, and blushed faintly. "Tell you what," Tara went on, "leave every other page blank, and I'll see if I can't come up with some suitable illustrations."

"Oh yeah," Tara promised. "Oh! I see our next purchase beckoning." She led Willow over to a stall of exotic vials and pots, and making sure Willow was watching, bought several bottles of scented massage oil.

"They'll get more at the Palace, you know," Willow said as Tara picked a few coins from a pouch on her belt – the oil came from one of the stalls that did straight-forward business, without haggling on either side.

"Maybe," Tara smiled sidelong, as the vendor took her money and wrapped the small bottles in a padded cloth. "But look at all these different scents…or should that be 'flavors'?"

"This new journal's going to fill up fast, isn't it?" Willow joked, holding her satchel open for Tara to slide her purchase in.

"It is if I have anything to do with it," Tara smirked. "Fast…achingly slow, and everything in between."

"Minx," Willow said, leaning in close to Tara and patting her bottom. Tara wiggled her hips and grinned.

For the next hour they continued to stroll and shop, and tease each other at every opportunity. When Tara leant over a table to inspect a selection of wooden sculptures, tiny birds and cats and horses carved in exquisite detail, Willow made sure to stand very close behind her, with her thigh nudging suggestively between Tara's legs. While Willow compared various tunics, decorated with woven flowers at their hems, Tara made a point of analyzing how each one would fit to her body, giving her light touches on her shoulders, her back and her waist to demonstrate each fit. Willow retaliated by quickly licking her ear at the next stall they visited, in the split second the vendor was distracted by another customer, and Tara evened the score by crouching down, ostensibly to look over some woven baskets stacked on the ground, and breathing hot air across Willow's exposed belly as she was peering at a bag hung higher up.

When they came to a long set of tables, lined up in a row twenty meters long and dressed with an enormous canvas cover, Willow knew Tara was planning her next move. Dozens of small merchants had their wares arrayed on the long table, selling hobby crafts that didn't need a permanent stall to themselves, and each time Tara moved from one assortment of carvings, jewelry and framed drawings to the next she would give Willow a speculative look, her eyes drifting to a different part of her with every glance.

'Trying to get me guessing,' Willow thought, giving Tara an innocent smile, 'well then, my lady, I'll just have to make the first move myself.' She knew Tara couldn't endure much more stimulation without doing something about it – just the flush in her cheeks and the depth of her breathing would have told her that, even if the succession of idle touches and seductive glances hadn't rendered Willow herself equally aroused. The next time Tara glanced at her, then returned her attention to the wide table in front of her, Willow crept up behind her and leaned forward over her, half-straddling her thigh and slowly circling her hips. Willow heard Tara gasp quietly, and couldn't contain her glee at the intensely aroused look on her lover's face when she looked over her shoulder.

Tara stared at Willow for a long moment, in which the business of the market seemed to fade away into the background. Then her eyes flickered up, looking behind Willow. Willow turned, puzzled, to see a large, nondescript man with his back to them, his wide shoulders more or less blocking the view of the aisle between the stalls and tables, then she had only enough time to open her mouth in surprise as she felt Tara's hands on her shoulders, pulling her down and back.

Tara held Willow securely, keeping her from falling as they rolled to the ground and beneath the table. Once there, Tara relaxed her grip, though not completely, and licked her lips slowly as she stared at Willow. Willow let out the breath that had caught in her throat during her sudden transition from idle shopper to lurker beneath a table, wondering what Tara was up to, even as she couldn't help responding with a smile to Tara's scrutiny of her. She opened her mouth to voice a question, then realized what that look in Tara's eyes meant. Her mouth hung open wider, her eyes equally wide, and she quickly glanced around their surroundings. The canvas covering the table hung to the ground on all sides – far away above and below, along the length of the table, and with a width just over a meter from side to side. All there was were bare floorboards, and the occasional box of spare merchandise on the sellers' side of the table. If anyone had noticed their sudden descent beneath the table, they were not bothering to investigate.

"Why not?" Tara purred, rolling over with Willow in her arms and slowly crawling up her body.

"There must be hundreds of people out there," Willow protested, though half- heartedly. It had taken exactly one touch from Tara to warm Willow to the idea of letting her do exactly as she wanted. Tara's hands closed on her bare waist as she lifted herself up, ducking a little to avoid hitting her head on the underside of the table.

"It's pretty noisy out there," she said in a carefree voice, just louder than a whisper, "I bet no-one will even hear you if you just can't help but moan a little. Or a lot…" She lay down again, her body pressing against Willow from the top of her chest right down to her feet. "Do you want to?"

"Do I…?" Willow asked. "Oh, goddess, come here…" Tara obligingly lowered her lips to Willow, who lifted her head to meet her half-way in a lustful, frenzied kiss that only became more passionate the longer it lasted. Tara moaned delightedly into Willow's mouth as her hands found Tara's belt and pulled the hem of her tunic free, allowing her to slide her arms up beneath it and press her hands against Tara's back, holding her tightly against herself.

"There's only one person I'm thinking about," Tara whispered, as Willow deftly undid the clasp of her bra and slid her hands around to her front, covering Tara's breasts and firmly, lovingly massaging her. "As for…everyone else…mmm…only you…there's only you…" She closed her eyes, a smile of utter contentment on her face as she arched her back, pushing her breasts into Willow's hands. In one quick motion she reached up and pulled her tunic off, taking the loose bra with it, sliding it beneath Willow's head as a makeshift pillow as Willow continued to squeeze and caress her.

"You adventurous minx you," Willow smiled, as Tara moaned quietly and kissed down the side of her neck.

"Mmm, not done yet," Tara murmured. She looked up to see the surprise, and arousal, in Willow's eyes as her hands loosened the ties at the waist of her skirt, and she wriggled the fabric over her hips and down her legs. Sometime when Willow had been absorbed in her activities higher up, Tara had kicked off her boots, so when she trailed her skirt up the side of Willow's body, dragging the gauzy material over her hips and shoulders before bunching it up and setting it aside, only the thin scrap of fabric around her hips, the crotch soaked with desire, stood between her and complete nakedness.

"You, baby," Tara whispered in her ear, "I want you to do it…" She gently guided Willow's hands from her breasts to the straps arching over her hips, and lifted herself up slightly. In a daze, as if in a dreaming fantasy, Willow tugged down, lowering the underwear as far as she could before Tara took over, shedding the tiny garment which came to lie beside her discarded boots.

"Exciting, isn't it?" Tara went on, licking her ear and neck mercilessly. "Any moment, someone might look…a vendor reaching for something out of one of those boxes…someone might drop a coin, and it'll roll underneath the table, and they'll crouch down, lift up the cover…could be any moment…could be right now…" She caught Willow's earlobe between her teeth and sucked on it for a moment, before lifting herself up, on hands and knees, staring down at Willow.

"You know they'd see everything," she whispered, "see me, poised over you… naked…wanton…the way my thighs are trembling, just from the anticipation…just because I know, I know, that before long, your hand's going to be buried between them, and your fingers inside me…and my breasts hanging down for you, for you to taste, to lick my nipples, to suck into your mouth and feast on…" She leaned forward, bringing her full, pendulous breasts close to Willow's face as her lips again came close to her ear.

"And the way my legs are spread open," she breathed, "anyone could see how much I want you…my lips pouting, shining with wetness…desperate to be touched…parted… opened…" She smiled as Willow drew a shuddering breath.

"All yours, baby," she went on, "all yours…every inch…every fold…every drop… the silkiness…inside, the heat, the tightness…even the little drop I can feel right now… trickling down my thigh…leaving a little path of wetness behind it…feel the air brushing against it…cooling it…I'm so hot…"

"Goddess," Willow said again, "oh goddess, there's no words for how hot you are…"

"Every second," Tara purred, "someone might find us…might see us…you know what the sensible thing to do is, don't you?" She fixed her eyes on Willow's and grinned devilishly.

"Yeah," Tara whispered, kissing her cheek softly, "take your naughty girl…make her come…right here…" She moved down to Willow's ear, letting a hot breath play over it before whispering: "Make her come so damn hard…"

Willow sucked down gasps of air as her hands moved down Tara's body. Tara rested herself on top of her, moaning quietly in the back of her throat, being rocked gently by the rise and fall of Willow's chest. One hand went around Tara's hips, gripping her, fingers kneading her flesh, the other between her legs, Willow's fingertips playfully teasing through her hair before coming to rest by her clit, without quite touching yet.

"Yeeeeaaahh," Tara sighed, swaying her hips back and forth as Willow began rolling her clit in her fingers.

"Hard?" Willow asked with an impish grin. Tara met her gaze, and her jaw fell open at the burning desire she saw there.

"Yuh," she grunted, pressing herself into Willow's hand. Willow released Tara's hips, bringing her free hand instead up her back, up her neck, into her hair, gripping firmly and bringing Tara's lips to hers for a searing kiss. The moment they touched, she squeezed Tara's clit hard between her fingers. Tara moaned out loud, fortunately muffled by Willow's mouth, and her body jerked and writhed in uncontrolled passion. Willow kept her fingers firmly clamped around the tiny nub of flesh, rhythmically squeezing, leaving Tara's thrusting, gyrating hips to provide the rest of the stimulation she was craving.

"Uh," Tara gasped quietly, her lips moving against Willow's, "uh, oh goddess, yes baby, yes that's so good, hold me tight baby, hold me hard, oh, oh yes, yes yes yes yes yes…" her mouth stopped forming words and simply breathed quick, sharp gasps of hot air over Willow's face.

Willow drove her towards climax relentlessly. Now and then she would ease her grip slightly, not wanting to send Tara over the edge too soon, before she had reached the pinnacle she was aiming for, but always her fingers returned, gripping, twirling, caressing, twisting and pinching with merciless precision. Tara's unrestrained show of passion excited her beyond belief, and the way she let herself go, naked and vulnerable, perhaps only seconds from discovery, yet thinking of nothing but stoking the heat within her lover, of making love no matter what, touched something deep within Willow that surprised her. Earlier, when Tara had taken her, when she had given herself over to Tara's wild, passionate care, Willow had found such a joy in being hers, in belonging, that she couldn't help but wish to share it with Tara, to take her as she had been taken herself. But, though she had flirted with the idea, Willow found the prospect of taking such a dominant role daunting – to trust Tara was easy, more than easy, but to trust herself that much, to allow herself free rein with such a precious goddess in her arms, to trust herself that she would not disappoint or, inconceivably worse, hurt her lover in some way…To give herself to Tara, to allow Tara to make love to her without restraint, could not be easier, and when making love with Tara, together, neither taking nor taken but sharing, Tara was her guide, and her part in their lovemaking gave Willow the confidence she needed to let herself go free, to enjoy and love and nothing else. But to hold Tara as hers, to take her, to love her with no guide but her own passion and need to please…earlier, Willow had thought, not without regret, that it was beyond her to take such a leap of faith.

Yet now Tara lay against her, giving freely, and although she was still taking an active role in things as they made love hidden beneath a table in the bustling marketplace, she was clearly giving a great deal to Willow, placing herself in her care and trust. She had never held herself back, but it was one thing for her to give, and another for Willow to take, and now Willow found she was not only accepting, but taking, what Tara offered…just enough to give her a taste of what it might be like to take the role Tara had been in earlier. Such a trust still frightened her, but less even than it would have moments ago, and given a taste, Willow found the idea of wanting more was no longer such an inconceivable fantasy.

"You like that, baby?" she whispered to Tara, her fingertips working Tara's clit ceaselessly. "You like it when I hold you hard? When I twist?" She demonstrated with a quick, firm tug, and Tara's entire body shuddered on top of her.

"Ah!" she gasped, "yes! Yes…oh goddess Willow, yes, do it, make me come baby… so close…goddess, so close…"

"Ask nicely," Willow teased, stroking rapidly, thumb and forefinger clamped hard on Tara's clit, her other fingers caressing her soaked folds. Tara's climax was inevitable, but still she played their game.

"Please," Tara whispered without hesitation, "oh goddess please, please baby, please make me come, make…me…oh goddess…commpph!" Her last word was muffled as she clamped her mouth to Willow's neck, just where it met her shoulder, half biting, half sucking, moaning against her skin as her sex pulsed and released a wave of scintillating pleasure.

"Oh baby," she whispered when at last the tremors within her calmed, and her moist lips came away from Willow's skin, "oh, baby…mmm, goddess, I love you…I love who you make me when you make love to me…"

"I love you too," Willow murmured, keeping her hand lightly cupping Tara's sex, mindful of how sensitive she was in the aftermath of her climax, but unable to bring herself to withdraw her hand just yet.

"Mmm," Tara purred contentedly, "oh Willow…oh," she licked the reddening patch on Willow's neck, "heh…that'll leave a mark. Sorry," she grinned sheepishly.

"Don't be sorry," Willow smiled, "I loved every second…and hey, it's not like you haven't already left a much deeper mark on me…right inside here," she unwound her other hand from Tara's hair and brushed her fingertips over her own chest, over her heart. "You put it there that first time you kissed me, back in the garden in the Baron's castle…'I am Tara's', it says…or maybe you were just filling in the outline you started drawing the moment I first saw you…" She raised her hand to her neck, feeling the flushed hot skin, as Tara gently licked it.

"Yep, same mark," she whispered, "all yours. Your lover…soulmate…your anything you want…anything to please you…"

"Well then," Tara smiled, "there's only one possible thing we can do now, isn't there?" Seeing the question in Willow's eyes she lifted a hand and gathered the hair hanging down beside her face, lifting it up and away. The question turned to arousal in Willow's stare as her eyes fixed on Tara's smooth skin, with no mistaking what Tara wanted.

She eagerly lifted her lips to Tara's neck and took hold, tenderly sucking on her skin through the kiss while her tongue traced playful, seductive patterns. Tara let out a heartfelt sigh of pleasure, and her hand came up behind Willow's head, supporting her, holding her lips against her. Her hips began to move again on their own, pushing herself against Willow's palm, her folds spreading invitingly around her fingers. For Willow, enthralled in tasting Tara's skin, tasting the depth of her love, the invitation was irresistible, and on the next downward stroke of Tara's hips she plunged two fingers deep inside her.

A gasp exploded out of Tara's mouth, louder than the whispers and hushed moans they had managed so far to restrain themselves to, but neither cared. The heat inside Tara astounded Willow, heat and wetness and softness that spoke of a desire truly matching her own. Tara held her head firmly to herself, while her other hand went between her legs and covered Willow's, trapping her most willingly within herself. With her fingertips stroking Tara's sweet spot, the heel of her hand still pressed against her clit, and her mouth voraciously kissing her neck, Tara's climax rose swiftly and broke powerfully over her, leaving her gasping for air, her muscles clenching desperately at Willow within her.

"Oh yeah," Willow replied in a heated whisper, licking the skin where her lips had feasted, "we'll have lovely matching love-bites."

"Good," Tara murmured, "there'll be no doubt who we both belong to." She kissed her way across Willow's cheek to her lips, and was surprised and delighted at the vehemence with which Willow claimed her mouth and kissed her, lips working over hers, tongue exploring, teasing, promising.

"Goddess," Tara breathed when at last Willow's tongue withdrew from her mouth. A smile spread across her features. "Someone's feeling very, very lusty."

"Is it any surprise?" Willow countered, kissing Tara again, briefly this time but scarcely less passionately.

"Well," Tara smiled, glancing around, "our hiding place seems to have remained undiscovered this far…why don't we push our luck a little longer?" She released Willow hand, biting her lip in pleasure as her fingers slid free of her. "It would be most unfair of me," she whispered, sliding slowly down Willow's body, "if I didn't make sure my Willow was thoroughly satisfied."

"Mmm," Willow murmured, as Tara gently slid the folds of her skirt up and over her hips, "I'm never anything less…ooh!" She moaned, a little louder than she'd meant to, as Tara deftly tugged aside the crotch of her underwear and slid a finger into her. Willow hadn't consciously realized how incredibly wet Tara had made her, and the delicious sensation of Tara's finger moving into her, through a veritable flood of moistness, was more than she was prepared for. Her muscles contracted of their own volition, and she couldn't help but giggle to herself when she heard a soft, moist sound issue from her soaked channel as Tara entered her.

"Heh," she chuckled, as she met Tara's amused grin and returned it, "guess you got me juicier than usual."

"That's okay," Tara whispered, "I'm thirstier than usual." She gave Willow a long, slow lick, starting down low, delving her tongue into her flowing sex, then reaching up to caress her tongue over her clit.

"Oh wow," Willow whispered, her head falling back, cushioned by Tara's rolled-up tunic, "goddess…how long can we stay down here?"

"If anyone finds us," Tara whispered, breathing over her sex, "I'll just say I'm sampling your wares." She gave Willow a gentle, luxurious kiss just above her clit. "This is a market, after all…" another kiss, just below, "…and there's nothing better than a taste test."

Some time later Willow drew back the canvas at the far end of the long table and peeked out. The table sided onto a row of stalls, and no-one in view seemed to be looking towards its end just at the moment. With a guilty smile she quickly scurried out and stood up right, stretching her legs, then stood around trying to look carefree and not attract attention as Tara emerged behind her, straightening her skirt.

"We're naughty, incorrigible girls," Willow grinned as they sauntered back among the teeming crowds.

"Lucky us," Tara quipped. "Oh, I saved these for you…a souvenir?" She idly held her hand in front of Willow and opened it to reveal her underwear, bunched up and still moist.

"You shameless creature," Willow laughed, snatching them and quickly stuffing them into her satchel.

"Shameless?" Tara replied, with an arch expression belied by the twinkle in her eyes. "This from the woman who nearly kicked the underside of the table the second time I…" she glanced down Willow's body and licked her lips.

"Uh-huh," Willow shot back, stroking the back of her hand lovingly, "totally shameless. Honestly, if I'd accidentally made a noise and everyone had looked under the table, I swear you would've just smiled and kept on licking."

"Some things are too sweet to interrupt," Tara said with a demure smile. She glanced at Willow, and her expression shifted from playful to caring. "You don't mind, do you?" she asked gently. "If you'd rather we didn't…you know, do things like this…?"

"Don't even think it," Willow said firmly, "I love every minute of being with you. Even the imminent-danger-of-discovery ones…maybe sometimes, especially those ones," she admitted with a blush.

"Huh," Willow snorted, smiling at the kiss, "me, wild? Uh-uh. Compared to you, I'm little miss conservative…"

"Oh?" Tara smiled, leaning in close to murmur in Willow's ear: "Since when does little miss conservative hold her lover's head to her gorgeous sex and come right into her mouth the way you did?"

"You know what I mean," Willow said, blushing furiously. "Goddess you're something else, you're getting me hot again, you know that? It's just as well you're not wearing panties, at this rate we'll barely make it half-way back to the Palace before we're making out in a doorway somewhere!"

"I have excellent self-restraint," Tara said, adopting an unconvincingly innocent expression. "Mostly," she added in an undertone.

They continued to wander through the huge Market Hall, discussing anything interesting that caught their eye, and often diverting into playful banter, for the next couple of hours. By the time they and their purchases – which now included a gauzy silk head-scarf Willow had noticed, and a new shoulder-bag that Tara bought to help carry everything – made their way to the massive door nearest the street leading up to the Palace the afternoon's gathering clouds had become a steady drizzle, but luckily – naturally, considering the brisk trade they were doing – a handful of vendors were selling collapsible umbrellas just inside the doorway.

"You've got it in you, you know," Tara commented as they made their way back towards the Palace, huddled together under the shelter of a single large umbrella – cheaper than buying two smaller ones, and with the added benefit that it practically required them to walk arm-in-arm, close together.

"What've I got in me," Willow asked, "aside from about half a gallon of sweet Tara- juice?" She was gratified to see Tara blush – Willow had been the one caught off-guard and blushing more often than not during their banter between bouts of shopping, and had become quite fond of those occasions when she managed to be the one to surprise her lover.

"Vixen," Tara murmured with a smirk. "I meant the…the wild girl thing. You're not always 'little miss conservative'."

"You mean, when I go all 'grrr' and you beg for me?" Tara asked, keeping her face in a placid smile. 'Drat, she got me,' Willow thought as she felt her face redden, nodding.

"That's what I mean," Tara went on, "it's in you too. I've felt it now and then…it feels good," she confessed with a wide grin.

"I know," Willow admitted, "I'd…earlier, in the wagon, what I felt when you made love to me, it was…you know I love being with you, making love to you, together…but when you took me it was so intense…" She gave Tara a sheepish grin. "I felt…like you owned me…in a good way," she hastened to add, "like, I'm your love, emphasis on 'your'…it was so, so incredibly sexy."

"And…I'd like to give that to you," Willow continued, "that experience, that pleasure…and I've had little tastes of what it might be like, you know? From the in-charge end, a-and I'd like to feel that as well…"

"But, I…I don't know if I can do that," Willow said with a frown, "it's such a huge thing, to, to be…to have you be mine, not just the way I know you're mine already, like I'm yours, that's just…I can't imagine it any other way…but different to that…"

"Yeah," Willow nodded, "yeah…I know it sounds simple, like it's just a, a thing to do, something to do to feel sexy, and I guess it could be just that…I mean, we do, we have already, all that teasing and whispering and playing around…but, I-I want to give you the whole experience, you know? Like you did for me, the real, spiritual, ecstatic your-chains-around-my-heart feeling. And that's such a, an enormous thing to do, because…because you're you, you're my Tara…there's nothing in the world more important than you, and if I did this, and I disappointed you-"

"You could never disappoint me, baby," Tara said soothingly, "never. I know how you feel, it's not just a simple thing for me either. Trusting you is so easy, but…entrusting myself with you…wow," she smiled, "that's a huge step to take. And you're absolutely right, when it's like this it's not just playing around, it's…it's really taking your heart in my hands, and trusting myself to keep it safe. But the reward…" she sighed happily and looked at Willow. "Oh baby, to feel you in my arms, mine, and when you look at me and I see that complete pleasure…I'd love to give that to you too."

"I just have to, I don't know, get into it," Willow shrugged, "get over being nervous… I guess it's like, you remember at that lake, the day before we got to Kotram? In here I know I can trust myself," she tapped her temple, "but down here," her finger moved down to her heart, "I still worry I'll do something wrong."

"It's alright," Tara said with a smile, "you don't have to regret being my utterly sweet, caring Willow…it just makes me love you more." She laughed quietly. "Every day I think that's not possible, and every day it turns out I can."

Willow leant over to her and gently kissed her, slowly, carefully, lovingly. For a moment they simply stood there, in the middle of the rain-swept street, sheltered by their umbrella as other pedestrians bustled around them, enjoying being together without a care in the world.

"See what I mean?" Tara grinned when they finally parted and resumed their walk, arms around each other's waists. "Now I love you even more than I did a moment ago. You're amazing…and you know what?"

"What?" Willow asked eagerly, recognizing the tone of Tara with an idea, which would doubtless turn out to be exquisite.

"I think I know just how to reach the 'grrr' in you, my lovely Willow," Tara said with a radiant smile. "Trust me?"

"Then tonight," Tara beamed, "I promise you, before the night is done you'll grrr like you've never grrred before."

Tara maintained a mysterious smile all the way back to the Palace, and refused to be drawn on what exactly she had in mind. To Willow's incessant questions she offered only vague hints, and always her smile, which had Willow turning her curiosity into a game, trying to discern some glimmer of a reaction from beneath Tara's amusement as she came up with suggestion after suggestion.

Once back they called on help from a couple of porters and had the rest of their bags from the wagon brought up to their room. Tara turned a chair around so she could look out of the open balcony doors at the clouds, with the gentle sound of the rain thrumming on the balcony's roof, as she unpacked and polished her ceremonial armor. Willow sat on the couch nearby and went through her collection of letters, picking out those she needed to send and adding her signature to them. A tug on the bell-cord by the door summoned Lissa, who promised that the letter to the Duke's mage would go immediately to his quarters or his workshop, wherever he happened to be at the moment, and the others would go to the Palace's post office, and on to their destinations around the city early next morning.

"You look lovely," Tara said, as she and Willow sat down to a modest dinner, brought to their room hot from the kitchens. Willow had kept her Zann Esu gear on, but added her new scarf, carefully arranging it in the bathroom so that Tara wouldn't see it until she had it perfectly positioned, with its folds just so, and her hair sneaking out on either side to frame her face. She smiled and made short work of her meal, sure that Tara's mysterious plan was drawing near. Tara kept her conversation on everyday matters, discussing the markets, the parts of the city they had seen and so on, avoiding any mention of her promise that afternoon. The amused, expectant glint in her eyes told Willow that she had not forgotten, and she found it actually aroused her to play Tara's game, as if they were about to turn in for a good night's sleep and nothing else. She knew better than to believe that, even for a second.

Later, when their empty plates were taken away, Tara ran a warm bath and washed Willow, gently and lovingly, but positively chastely, especially by her recent standards. Her hands roamed freely over Willow's body, but never with any intent other that to bathe her. She never lingered on Willow's breasts or between her legs, or at the sides of her waist, the backs of her thighs, her neck, or any of the multitude of erogenous zones she had already demonstrated ample knowledge of – nor did she avoid them, either, she simply washed as though she had no idea her touch had the power to excite. Willow, eager not to impede Tara's plans, did likewise, restraining her urge to enjoy the delights of Tara's body as she bathed her, and both conducted themselves similarly as they drained the bath and toweled each other off.

The result of Tara's modest behavior was that, by the time Willow returned to the main room, turned down the blankets and sat on the edge of the bed, she was in such a state of anticipation as she had never known before. No matter how Tara behaved, how demure her touch or innocent her gaze, Willow never once felt anything less than the full extent of her love, and all the passion that entailed. She knew that Tara knew this, too, that Tara had calculated her behavior and demeanor all through the evening to achieve just this result – that Willow's ardor for her become inflamed to such a degree that she could barely think without her mind becoming overwhelmed with fantasies.

Tara finished hanging their towels back on their rails and padded back into the main room, naked but showing no sign of intending to arouse, though the mere sight of her brought a flush to Willow's cheeks, and a rush of wetness within her core. Tara sat beside her, and gently took Willow's hand in both of hers.

"I love you," she said softly, "I always have, from the moment I set eyes on you, before I knew what my soul was telling me, and I always will. I would never ask anything of you that you wouldn't give me of your own free will."

"I know," Willow said, the honest emotion in Tara's words reaching her clearly, even through the strength of her desires.

"Do you want this?" Tara asked. Her tone was gentle, supportive, but left no doubt that she needed a true answer, without hesitation or qualification.

"Lie back," Tara whispered, her hands on Willow's shoulders, gently laying her down on the expansive bed, shifting her to lie comfortably, her head supported by the pillows. She drew the blankets back, to let Willow slide her legs beneath them, but instead of pulling them back up she continued to drag them down, leaving them at the foot of the bed, around Willow's heels. She kissed her palm and held it out towards Willow, then turned and busied herself putting out most of the room's candles, leaving only a few to cast their glow, as the occasional, distant sheet of lightning cast its glare through the windows.

The moment she replaced the delicate brass candle snuffer on the mantelpiece and turned back to Willow, the whole language of her body changed. She sauntered towards the bed, hips swaying invitingly, her fingertips brushing the tops of her thighs as she swung her arms lazily. No-one could have watched her approach Willow without knowing precisely what was in her mind, least of all Willow herself, whose chest shuddered up and down as her breathing increased to a rapid pace.

Tara sat on the other side of the bed, elegantly swung her legs up behind her, and prowled on all fours over to Willow, with the grace of the lioness in her every motion. She swung her leg over Willow's waist and straddled her, taking her wrists and guiding her hands up above her head. Her breasts swung desperately close to Willow's lips as she leaned forward, lifting Willow's hands until they touched the carved wood at the head of the bed. Tara gently closed Willow's hands around two of the slim spiral-carved columns in the wood, then let go and swayed back, until her face was a mere inch from Willow's, and their breath mingled in the air between them.

"Don't let go," she whispered, staring into Willow's eyes. Willow could only nod, caught in Tara's gaze, and a slow, sensuous smile spread across Tara's face.

"I know how much you want me," she whispered, swaying her head from side to side, her gaze moving all over Willow's face, "I want you too…I want the Willow I tasted today. The Willow who wants to take me…whose whispers are my commandments… whose fingers leash me stronger than steel…whose lips brand me…I want to be yours…" She lowered herself to Willow's lips and kissed her, fiercely at first, but by degrees more gentle as Willow responded more and more, her tongue venturing forward as Tara's retreated, claiming her in reply.

"Ahhh," she sighed, as Willow released her from the kiss to take a gasp of air, "that's her…my Willow goddess…and you want me so much now, don't you? Oh yeah, I know…I want you to want me…I want you to have me…and you will," she promised, "oh, baby, you will…"

With a serene, sexy smile she straightened up, sitting back on her heels over Willow's thighs. With deliberate slowness she reached down and dragged her fingertips through Willow's soaking sex, the corners of her smile quirking upward as she noticed the jolt that ran through Willow's body at the touch, and the shudder when she brushed over her clit. She held her hand up for Willow to see, fingertips glistening with juice, then slowly brought it to her mouth.

"Yours," she said, as she painted her lips with Willow's arousal. "Yours," she repeated, dragging her fingers down through her cleavage, leaving a trail of moisture. "Yours," she said once more, as her hand cupped her sex, mingling Willow's wetness with her own. Watching Willow all the while, making sure her attention was firmly on the hand between her legs, she held two fingers together and slowly, tortuously slowly, slid them into herself, until her palm lay flay against her folds and she was as deep within herself as she could be.

"Yours," she whispered, leaning down to whisper with her lips pressed against Willow's, "oh goddess baby it's yours…you want it…you want to be right where I am now…inside me…deep in my soul…and I want you there." She raised herself just enough to look into Willow's eyes, to see the fire there. "What am I?" she breathed.

"Mine," Willow said from between clenched teeth. Tara's eyes closed, her mouth opened, releasing a sigh almost like a gentle climax. She touched Willow's arms lightly, and sighed again as she felt her move, her hands releasing their grip on the carved wood, drawing closer.

"Yeeessss," she hissed, "yes…love me, baby…take me…" She leant down, her tongue hot against Willow's neck, working up to lick her ear, and in a whisper laden with desire, she breathed: "fuck me."

Willow's breath caught in her throat for a second, then she rose like an angel, carrying Tara in her arms and bearing her over. Tara gasped in pleasure as she came down on her back among the soft blankets, with Willow on top of her, feverishly kissing her neck, her shoulders, her breasts, devouring her nipples as her hands closed on Tara's thighs, lifting them on either side of her, pressing her stomach against Tara's thrusting mound.

"Oh yes," Tara moaned, "oh yes, yes, take me goddess, take what's yours!" Willow held a nipple between her teeth, tugging at it to cries of pleasure from Tara, as one hand gripped Tara's bottom and her other slid between their bodies, covering Tara's sex, pressing firmly against it.

"Is this what you want baby?" she murmured, releasing Tara's nipple to brush her lips against it as she spoke. "This?" she demanded, as she slid a finger into Tara, thrusting quickly in and out.

"Goddess you're wet," Willow went on, "you're so close…you're close, aren't you baby? Aren't you? Feel that orgasm inside you, straining to break over you?"

"I could make you come right now," Willow purred, "right now, all over my hand… but I won't. I want you to writhe, moan, grind your hips, feel me in you…you want to come so much, so bad, but until I say," she paused, her finger thrust deep, tickling Tara's sweet spot, "until I say…" She left the words hanging, as her caress inside Tara kept her hips jerking and writhing of their own accord.

"I-I c-can't…c-c-come…" Tara panted, "not uh…u-until…y-y-you let…m-me…"

"That's so right baby," Willow murmured delightedly, "we've played this game before, haven't we? But this is for real…I can take you again and again, all night if I want…lick you, kiss you, nibble your folds, suck your clit…even when you feel my tongue dancing inside you, you'll want to come so badly…be a good girl," she grinned devilishly, as she lowered herself down Tara's body. Tara gasped for breath, still tormented by Willow's finger within her driving her wild, and knowing in her soul that blessed release was far, far away.

Willow wasted no time bringing her lips to Tara's sex, licking up the copious juices covering the immediate object of her desire. She swirled her tongue all through Tara's folds, all around her finger still buried in her, still working inside her, before fixing her lips around her clit, sucking voraciously. Tara bucked in her grip, trying to force her mound against Willow's mouth, and Willow eagerly obliged, pressing herself firmly into Tara's warmth, holding her nub securely between her teeth, grazing her tongue back and forth over it.

She recognized the signs of Tara's impending climax, but at the same time she could feel that she was in control, that the thrusts of Tara's hips, the rippling of her inner muscles, all were incomplete, rendered unable to bring her complete satisfaction without the acquiescence, the command, of her lover. Tara responded with all her passion to Willow's love, her body driving frantically towards a climax she could never reach on her own, spurred on only by the sure knowledge that her Willow would never leave her unsatisfied, that the torment of her arousal, so strong as to be almost painful, would be rewarded.

Willow thrust her tongue over Tara's clit again and again, each touch more than enough to have brought her satisfaction had Tara's own will had any say in the matter. But she was Willow's, and Willow knew it – felt it within herself, within Tara. As her mouth filled with the taste of Tara's sex, Willow tasted too the hot, heady pleasure of having her perfect Tara totally in her power – and, even more satisfying, the pure shining knowledge that she was worthy.

She gave Tara's clit one last, lingering kiss, then moved back up her body, licking at the sweat beading on her skin as her hand continued its rhythm between her legs. Tara's head was back on the blankets, and it was only as Willow lightly nipped at her breasts and licked over her collarbone that her eyes focused and she looked back down from the bed's canopy above them.

"You're ready," she whispered into her neck, "feel it grow inside you…growing, swelling…so huge it scares you…I'll hold you, baby. I'll keep you safe." She made her way up to Tara's ear, and whispered into it: "Come."

"Willow!" Tara shrieked, her arms flying up to grasp at Willow's back, her nails scratching white trails across her skin. She convulsed violently beneath Willow, thrusting herself onto her plunging finger again and again as waves of pleasure rocked her to her very core. Willow never faltered, thrusting into Tara's flowing sex as her lover rode her monumental orgasm. When it seemed Tara's pleasure might begin to subside, Willow gripped her backside harder, and added a second finger, opening her sopping channel wider.

"Again," she demanded as Tara clung to her. She felt Tara begin to rise to a peak, and added the stimulation of her thumb on Tara's clit, rubbing the sensitive nerves hard, sending shockwaves of intense pleasure all through her body. Before Tara had even recovered from her first climax the second was upon her – her legs whirled up, around Willow's waist, her ankles crossing in the small of Willow's back and holding her hips up off the bed as she gushed again, drawing Willow into her as deep as humanly possible.

Her climax seemed to intensify with each wave and each thrust, rather than easing off, and at its height Willow physically lifted her off the bed, sitting up with Tara wrapped around her, arms and legs, supporting her entire weight on her thighs, and with the hand around her waist, letting her plunge down on the fingers buried inside her. Tara's head swam with pleasure, moans echoed around the room from her throat, and she clutched at Willow as if trying to draw her completely into her, to somehow become one with her. Again Willow waited until her lover's climax showed the first tiny sign of abating, and then-

"Again," she growled. Tara's eyes slammed open, staring at her in disbelief, even as her body responded. She gulped down a gasp of air, then her mouth opened in a silent moan, and for a moment the only sound in the room was their joined breathing, and the hot, wet sounds of Willow's hand, now covered to the wrist in Tara's arousal, continuing to drive into Tara's core.

"You can do it baby," Willow whispered. She held Tara tightly, protectively, as she made love to her, as Tara let herself fall into Willow's arms, into her soul, and Willow took the gift she was given and used it in full measure to bring Tara higher, higher than clouds or stars.

"One…" she whispered, her fingertips pressing into Tara's sweet spot with every thrust.

"…more…" her thumb pleasuring her clit as hard as she could bear, circling, rubbing, pressing into the sensitive bud remorselessly.

"…time." Drawing her fingers back for the last thrust, and she knew without a shadow of a doubt that it would be the last, as surely as if Tara's sex were her own, the feelings within it hers, Willow added a third finger and plunged all three deep into Tara, hitting her sweet spot and clit at once, relentless, burying Tara in stimulation.

A sound formed in Tara's throat, at first a tiny, ethereal whisper of a moan, matching the tentative, almost shy tremors that began within her sex, wrapped tightly around Willow's fingers. The sound grew, louder, stronger, surer, a melodious voice of pleasure as Tara's climax began to gather pace, ever-stronger waves of pleasure cascading down over her. Tara stared her utter devotion into Willow's eyes all the while, until at last she threw her head back, release was upon her, and she let out a pure, high note, an angelic scream of pleasure, blissful, perfect and abandoned, and at the very top of her voice, such that, had it not happened to coincide with an impressive roll of thunder from the night sky, she would likely have woken half the Palace.

The sheer strength, the fullness, of Tara's climax seemed to drain the strength from Willow as completely as it did from Tara herself, and both of them slowly sank back, until they lay, Willow beneath and Tara atop her, along the length of their bed. Willow, with a supreme effort, managed the effort of hooking the corner of the blankets and drawing them over herself and her lover, then her arm returned to Tara's waist, holding her safe as the tremors within her finally began to subside.

"Goddess…" Tara gasped when Willow finally, gently withdrew her fingers from her.

"You can say that again," Willow whispered, wonder evident in her voice. "A-are you okay? That was…"

"Perfect," Tara finished, "it was utterly, utterly perfect…did you feel it, baby? Did you feel me give everything to you?"

"I felt it," Willow replied, "I…it was so beautiful…if, if there are words for how beautiful, they're words only angels can sing…I felt like…like you made me more than human." She grinned at the sound of what she said, but there was no mistaking the honesty in her words, that she believed every one."

"You are more than human," Tara said, kissing Willow's neck from where she lay beside her on the pillow, breathing the scent of her hair. "You're my whole world."

"And you were absolutely right," Willow smiled, "I've got the 'grrr' in me…I never realized how…how spiritual it could be." She paused as a thought struck her. "This…um, this doesn't mean that you won't, you know…still 'grrr' yourself…?" Tara's soft laughter soothed her at once.

"You bet I will," she chuckled, "what I felt in the wagon today…there's no way I'm not taking you like that again. And again, and again…" She kissed Willow once more. "I love you far too much to keep anything from you…"

"I love you too baby," Willow whispered, "I love you so much I've forgotten what it felt like before I loved you." She tilted her head over to kiss Tara properly, tasting her lips. "I love loving you…making you mine…being yours…heh," she chuckled, "I'm starting to think there's nothing we can't do."

"Hmm, maybe you're right," Tara purred, "I certainly intend to find out…but for now, tonight," she lifted herself up, staring down into Willow's eyes, "tonight, I am yours…and your wish is my most pleasurable command." She kissed Willow again, smiling at the passion she saw reignited in her eyes.

Willow woke up feeling as good as she ever had in her life, and also with a slight weight on her chest. Opening her eyes she saw the reason for both – Tara, curled up against her side, one arm draped across her waist, and her head pillowed on Willow's bosom. 'Glad she doesn't mind modest-sized pillows,' Willow thought to herself as she gently lifted a hand to stroke Tara's hair. After a short while Tara shifted, and snuggled up a little closer to her.

"Mmm," Tara murmured, pressing her cheek firmly against Willow's breast, "morning…'s it just me, or is the bedding more luxurious than normal?" Her head bobbed up and down as Willow laughed beneath her.

"So I'm a pillow now?" she grinned, ignoring the fact that she had been thinking the same thing a moment earlier.

"Among many other things," Tara quipped, raising her head and shifting upwards to lie against Willow's side, Tara's head resting beside hers on the pillows. "I didn't hear you complaining, did I?"

"Heh, no, I guess you didn't," Willow admitted. "Lovely way to wake up…I seem to be accumulating those recently, and they all involve you being in very close proximity to me."

"Me too," Tara smiled, lightly kissing her lips, "a mutually agreeable arrangement…in the best possible way." She fell silent, staring at Willow.

"Aw, you're such a sweetie," Willow chuckled, rolling over to wrap her arms around Tara. She giggled when Tara snuck her tongue out and poked the tip of Willow's nose.

"Are you trying for super-cute this morning?" she asked. "'Cause you're doing pretty darned well… actually," she added, with a cheeky grin teasing her lips, "I'm surprised you can even move your tongue, considering the workout it got last night."

"Amazon stamina," Tara said seriously, with just a sparkle of humor in her eyes giving her away, "we're trained to extend the bounds of the physically possible."

"You certainly did that," Willow smiled, "gods, there were times I couldn't believe what was happening to me."

"Yeah," Willow replied, "you do that a lot, you know? Heh, one time you had me coming so hard I was sure I'd turn inside-out." She paused and considered that. "Only not literally, 'cause ick, and you know, I like my insides to stay inside of me…they're called 'internal organs' for a reason…just metaphorically inside-out," she finished.

Their laughter was interrupted by the soft ringing of a small bell. Tara blinked in surprise, while Willow lifted her head to look at the door to the stairs.

"I'll see," Willow said, throwing back the covers and crawling to the edge of the bed. She swung her legs to the floor, then leaned back and kissed Tara firmly on the lips.

"Now I'll see," she said, "first things first…" She got up, pulled on a robe and tied it around her waist, and padded over to the door. There was no-one outside, but there were a handful of envelopes on the small table by the door.

"Mail," she explained, holding the letters up for Tara to see as she closed the door behind her. Tara rolled over and crawled slinkily on all fours to the foot of the bed, where Willow sat down, smiling appreciatively at her.

"One for you," she said as Tara stealthily undid the sash around her waist, "that's from Tryptin… another for you, with the Duke's seal…I know what you're doing, you know?" she added as Tara undid her robe and opened it, circling her waist with her arms and laying her head down in her lap.

"You sexy little…oh! One for me," she exclaimed, quickly opening the envelope. Tara snuggled up closer to her, staring up from her position on Willow's thighs.

"It's from Myrreon," Willow said, "he's the Duke's mage…he says I'm welcome to visit his workshop today to discuss studying with him!"

"That was quick," Tara said, slowly edging one hand down from Willow's waist towards her bottom.

"He must've got my letter last night," Willow mused, quickly reading the rest of the page. "Yeah, yeah, formal stuff, blah blah blah…oh, he says he's been doing some work on elemental magic theory he'd like to consult with me about, yay!"

"Well, it means he's not just going to send me off with a bunch of books I've probably read anyway, I'm actually going to learn something, and…and…what're you up to?" she grinned down at Tara.

"Uh-huh," Willow nodded, "well…mmm," she purred as Tara squeezed her more firmly, "well, how about you and me freshen ourselves up with a nice hot shower? I'm sure there'll be all sorts of ways for you to amuse yourself." She leaned down and gave Tara a squeeze in return, then inched her fingers inwards between her legs. "In fact, I'd quite like to amuse you senseless."

"Only if I get to return the favor," Tara said, sliding her arms up Willow's body as she sat up.

"Well then, let's shower," Tara smiled. Willow shrugged off her robe and stood up, as Tara lithely slid off the bed to her feet.

"Yeah," Willow said without really thinking, still stealing sidelong glances. "Huh? Oh, the mage… yeah, could be. I mean I'll have to see what he's like when we meet, but the tone of the letter is encouraging. Besides, we've been here two days and he hasn't tried to kill either of us, so he's already better than the last one."

After a lengthy and thorough shower – both Willow and Tara went to great lengths not to miss a spot on each other, often re-washing whole areas just to make sure – the women sat down to a light breakfast. Jesye, the elfin young woman who took over from Lissa from midnight to midday, brought up a newspaper with their meal, which Willow glanced over while Tara opened and read the other letters that had arrived earlier.

"I'll be busy this afternoon," she said to Willow, reading the letter from Tryptin, "one of the Duke's generals has come back from the north for a couple of days and they think it'd be a good idea for me to discuss what it's like around the monastery."

"I talked with Tryptin about that yesterday, he said at the moment the expeditionary part of the Duke's army is up north dealing with some bandit chieftain from the unclaimed lands beyond the border. Their best guess was that it'd take a couple of weeks to wrap up, and then they'll go about wiping out the demons around Kotram." Tara shrugged and set the letter aside. "I think Tryptin probably set up this meeting, to introduce me to someone of high rank in the Duke's army. It could be useful later on."

"Well, I'm going to have to earn my keep," Tara said, "the usual way for a warrior to do that is by lending their services to the local army as an instructor, if they've got skills better than the average soldier."

"It's either that," Tara went on, smiling at the compliment, "or be a mercenary or a bounty hunter. Not a line of work that I'd like to get into."

"Good," Willow said, "I like you safe and sound here with me, not off in some remote wilderness chasing down troublesome packs of demons."

"Yeah, but that wasn't on purpose," Willow pointed out. "Besides, I was there to watch your back, not off somewhere else worrying about you all the time." She frowned. "Well, admittedly, I was right there with you worrying about you all the time…but we were together, that's the main thing. Where did this line of thought start?"

"Good," Tara echoed with a grin. "So, that really just leaves instructing, so far as warrior-type jobs go. Archery, probably. Tryptin probably thought of that, it'll be useful to have met one of the generals beforehand. Not that it won't be useful for him to have some foreknowledge of what things are like down where we were, and I've got a fair idea of the kinds of things a general would want to know. Tryptin probably thought of that too," she grinned, "that'd be like him, planning for everything."

"Tryptin knows you're staying here?" Willow asked, between bites of toast with jam. Tara looked thoughtful.

"It's funny, we haven't actually spoken about it since we were at the castle," she said. "I remember thinking I'd tell him once we got to Duncraig, then we got separated, and I never got around to it when we got back, it was all about what had happened to us. I'll have to tell him next time I see him. He knew I was seriously thinking about staying with you," she added, looking across the table at Willow, "not that I've ever actually considered anything else…" She thought for a moment, and smiled. "He's probably figured it out for himself. I'll make sure I tell him." She picked up the other letter, with the envelope bearing the Duke's seal, and opened it.

"Oh, it's the performance the Duke's going to," she said, "invitation, schedule…'Lady Tara of the Amazon Nation, and her companion, are reserved a place in the Duke's party to attend the anniversary gala at the Duncraig opera house, the party being scheduled to meet on the steps of the Palace entrance hall at seven o'clock,'" she read. "Do you want to unpack that green dress you wore to the Baron's dinner?"

"Actually I've got another little something you haven't seen yet," Willow grinned, "I thought I might have to look formal now and then so I packed a couple of suitable outfits for dinners and dances and all that. I'll have to see if the laundry can have it pressed in time for tonight…promise not to peek when I unpack it?"

"What about you?" Willow asked. "Ceremonial outfit? Every man in the opera house will be jealous of me, you know. Probably a lot of the women as well."

"Maybe ceremonial dress," Tara said vaguely, "but yesterday Tryptin said it wasn't technically a diplomatic appearance…maybe I'll surprise you."

"Ooh, now I'm going to have trouble keeping my mind on my magic all day," Willow replied. "What time's your meeting with the general?"

"In that case, do you want to come with me this morning?" Willow asked hopefully.

"I think it'll be okay," Willow assured her, "I mean, you're a diplomatic guest and all, that's pretty prestigious. Plus you're a mage too, from what I've seen you're up there with the best in terms of spell shaping and channeling, I'm sure he'd like to meet you. From the letter he seems pretty relaxed about the whole thing – some mages get all secretive about their work, but you wouldn't expect that of someone who's agreed to tutor a sorceress who's not part of their order, so I don't think there's anything to worry about. And," she finished with a shy smile, "I'd like it if you would. Not that I want to be all demanding and monopolize all your time or anything but…"

"I get it," Tara interrupted, "things are better when I'm around you. For me too, and I'd love to come along."

"Yay!" Willow exclaimed, bouncing out of her chair, the few remains of her breakfast forgotten. Tara finished hers and followed Willow to the writing desk, where she had stored her study paraphernalia the previous evening after unpacking it all – notebooks, a handful of esoteric-looking instruments, and a set of colored inks which Willow had explained as her system for taking notes – green for spell theory, blue for energy theory, red for applications, black for casting instructions, and purple for 'everything else'.

"Anything I should know?" Tara asked. "I don't want to accidentally offend him, or anything-"

"Nah, you'll be fine," Willow said, "I mean, you're naturally polite and courteous and wonderful to be around, who could complain about that? Just, you know, be yourself. Don't worry if he seems a bit odd, court mages in places like this sometimes get a bit eccentric."

"It's just from working on their research for so long," Willow went on, oblivious to Tara's fond smile, "in a city this big all the mundane magic – minor enchantments, that sort of thing – would be done by younger mages, lower down in their orders. Unless there's a really serious war going – which there hasn't been here in ages – the Duke's personal mage is probably free to pursue whatever line of research he wants, and not worry too much about what the outside world is up to."

Willow's assurances notwithstanding, Tara found herself slightly nervous as they followed Jesye through the Palace towards the mage's tower, almost on the opposite side from the smaller tower containing their room. The young servant had been quiet initially, but by the time they had reached the base of the tower and begun their ascent, she and Willow were chattering amiably to each other, with Tara a step behind listening in. Willow had been curious when Jesye referred to their room as the 'Princess tower', and Jesye was in the process of explaining.

"After Princess Marindi, who's now the Duchess," she was saying, "back when the Duke was courting her – this was ten years ago, but one of the older servants told me – he had the tower added to the Palace for her to stay in when she visited. Her brother's the Prince of Kartand, off to the west, used to be a great realm, but they say there was a war a century ago, and they lost nearly all their land. It's said to be a nice place now though, my father took my mother there for their anniversary last year, said the mountains are beautiful. Anyway," she paused for breath, "the Duke called in every master craftsman in the city and they built the tower – he told them, make it perfect."

"No wonder the Princess married him," Willow grinned, glancing back at Tara, who gave her a smile and nodded.

"They say the Duke's private rooms are finer," Jesye went on, "and the Lion Star's royal cabin, of course. I haven't seen either, only attendant of five years' good service get assigned to the royal apartments, or go with the Duke and Duchess when they travel, but from what they say…oh, here we are," she said, as they finally reached the top of yet another flight of stairs, which led to a landing curving around the inner rooms of the tower, with the outer wall on the other side. There was one door, made of old, thick wood bound in iron, and a watery-looking blue-white crystal mounted in a small metal frame bolted to the wall next to it. Tara had the odd feeling it was watching them.

"Master Myrreon's workshop," she said, indicating the lone door. Willow thanked her and rapped the brass knocker on the door. She stood next to Tara, taking her hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"Thanks," Tara whispered back. Willow's hand in hers made all the difference – she felt her spirits lift as they waited. Willow smiled at her, her other hand fidgeting with her staff. After a short pause, during which Tara became aware of a constant, steady clanking from beyond the door, just on the edge of hearing, footsteps grew nearer, and the door opened.

"Hello?" said the man who looked out into the corridor. He was young, twenty-five perhaps, with short black hair and dark eyes. His features were handsome, though markedly different to any Tara had seen before, and she could see Willow's attention fix on him in curiosity as well – his skin was a flawless pale tone, slightly more gold than pink, his nose didn't stand out very far, and his eyes were thin and spaced a little wider than was usual for the people of Westmarch, giving him a reserved, philosophical look.

"Um, I'm Willow," Willow said, stepping forward, bringing Tara with her, "I got your letter this morning?"

"Oh, of course," the man said, "the sorceress, yes. Thank you," he said to Jesye with a courteous nod. She bowed quickly and turned back towards the stairs.

"I'm Zan," the man said as Willow and Tara, "Master Myrreon is in here, somewhere, come in, please."

"This is Tara," Willow said, stepping up to the doorway as Zan stood aside, "my partner, we're traveling together."

"Hello…" Tara said, but trailed off as she and Willow went through the door into the chamber beyond. It was round, occupying the whole center of the tower, and rose three storeys to a wooden-beamed ceiling, with sturdy wooden stairs and landings winding their way around the outer wall to reach the floors above. The perimeter of the room was a crowded mess of bookshelves, desks laden with interesting glassware and metal objects, racks of scrolls and parchments, iron-bound trunks, crates, bits of timber and metal, and all manner of devices. Off to one side was something that looked like a free-standing candelabra, except that instead of candles it had a translucent sphere composed of shifting, wavering colors; on a desk a wooden contraption, a framework containing countless tiny cogs, gears and ratchets, had been partially disassembled; from one of the landings hung something which looked like a pair of falcon's wings, constructed from parchment stretched over a wooden frame.

What rendered Willow and Tara both speechless was the construction in the center of the workshop, which was a massive model of the heavens, fashioned in brass and steel, with a huge bronze sun in the center and around it, on graceful metal arms containing intricate, moving systems of levers and gears, all the planets, each with its proper moons, marked with silver detailing over metals of every hue imaginable. The whole structure was in motion, the planets moving through their orbits around the sun, all their various moons in turn orbiting their planets, and most of the huge arms, which spanned much of the considerable width of the workshop, slowly bending at joints along their lengths as sections extended and retracted, keeping their planets at their proper distance from the sun while avoiding any collisions with other arms as they swung past each other. The noise Tara had heard earlier was coming mainly from the huge base of the construct, where massive gears clanked around, powering it all.

"Master?" Zan called. There was a clunk from inside the huge orrery's base, and a middle-ages man in long robes crawled out from within it and got to his feet, dusting himself off as he looked around. To Tara he seemed to be the embodiment of the wizards she had imagined from hearing stories in her childhood – the white hair and beard framing a kindly-looking face, the robes decorated with arcane symbols, even the pair of half-moon glasses perched on his nose.

"Hello?" he said, noticing Willow, Tara and Zan standing at the edge of the workshop. He made his way across, bending to keep clear of the planets overhead, and once he reached them he drew himself up to his full height, smiling uncertainly.

"Hmm? Oh, the sorceress, of course." He beamed at Willow and Tara, looked confused for a moment, then settled his gaze on Willow.

"You're Miss Willow?" he asked, evidently judging by her attire – she was wearing one of her Zann Esu robes, while Tara was wearing a skirt and tunic.

"Yes," Willow replied, "this is Tara, she's an Amazon, she knows a lot about spell shaping…"

"An Amazon?" the mage said, surprised. "Oh yes, we've got Amazons here at the moment, haven't we… you do, what was it, fire? Battle spells using weapon as channels?"

"Lightning, I see," the mage nodded, "fascinating really, the focus of holy magic into a prime shell… oh, forgive me, I haven't introduced myself. Myrreon of the Vizjerei, at your service. This is Zan, my assistant, and this-" he turned to the empty room. "Oh," he said sounding disappointed, "where's she got to?"

"The university, Master," Zan said patiently, "you sent her to deliver your schematics to the professor of arithmancy?"

"Of course, of course," Myrreon said, "my apprentice, Ocean…she should be back soon. And I'm to teach you, am I?" he asked Willow. "Both of you?" he added, glancing at Tara.

"Oh well," Myrreon said, "I hope we can talk later, I'm curious about Amazon magic, I think there's some interesting subtleties involved in the theory, it might be quite useful to some of the work I'm doing… well, Miss Willow," he turned his attention back to her, "I understand you won't be staying quite long enough to be an apprentice, as such – of course I've got one already…well, two, though I think Zan is quite close to being a mage in his own right…how about I just show you what I'm doing, and if you're interested I'll see if I can convey the theory behind it. I often find it useful to explain what I'm doing, you know," he said, leading the way to one of the less cluttered desks, "seems to make it easier to line all my thoughts up and make sense of them, there's an old saying, you know, 'if you want to understand something, try explaining it to someone else', I think that's quite true. You'll want to duck."

"Wha?" Willow said, as Tara grabbed her waist and pulled her down into a crouch. A small planet whirred overhead on the end of a particularly complicated arm that seemed to be composed entirely of interlocking gears, with only a few struts to keep it from falling to pieces.

"Erratic orbit," Myrreon went on, ducking the planet without looking, "nothing to be done about it, I'm afraid. Caught me a nasty bump on the head the first time I set the whole system moving, but you get used to keeping out of its way. That was Lorelei, by the way. I mean, we could tilt the whole thing so it didn't come out so close to head level, but according to the measurements if we did that then Titanis's orbit would pass right through the first floor landing."

"Is it…it's going backwards, isn't it?" Willow asked, frowning in thought as she studied the orrery's motions.

"Yes!" Myrreon exclaimed happily. "Yes, it is – you'd be surprised how few people spot that. Yes, I'm running it backwards at about a year a minute, it's come up with some interesting alignments, Zan's taking note of them and we've been comparing them to historical records…you know of astrological parallel?"

"That's it," Myrreon said, reaching the desk and rummaging around for a scroll, "of course it's highly suspect, all that nonsense about Forma being in the north quarter so everyone born in the first week of the month will meet a tall dark stranger, or whatever…we've got some interesting evidence, though, that on a larger scale their might be some correlation between the movements of the heavens and the waxing and waning of earthly powers. Ah, here it is." He handed a scroll to Willow.

"Elemental power calculations," he said, "when I got your letter I thought you'd be the person to ask about this, I'm not much of an elemental mage myself – a few cantrips, really, nothing more – I've always been more drawn to the mechanics of the world, the laws governing it. Would you mind taking a look at those? They're to do with multi-planar elemental convergences, to try to explain some of the anomalies I'm trying to get to the bottom of. Zan will help you," he went on, turning to his assistant, "would you explain the work I've been doing on convergence and dissonance? Oh, I almost forgot," he turned back to Willow, "I understand you had a run-in with a rather nasty bit of magic down south, something about a renegade from the Ennead order trying to conduct a summoning in the old monastery? The Duke asked me to look into it, see what might be done, would you mind explaining it to me later? This afternoon?"

"Good, good," Myrreon said, nodding to himself as well, "well then, you and Zan can start on that scroll, and if I may," he looked to Tara, "I'd quite like to learn a bit more about Amazon magic, did I mention before I was curious about it? If it's no trouble, of course?"

"No, that's fine," Tara said happily. She gave Willow's hand a squeeze, and they shared a brief smile before Willow sat down next to Zan, who had unrolled the scroll over the desk. Myrreon wandered off to another of his work tables, this one piled high with books, and an assortment of arcane devices stacked in a precarious heap, and Tara followed him.

"Um, sorry if this seems impolite," Willow said hesitantly to Zan as they worked through the magical equations written in Myrreon's elegant, flowing handwriting, "but I'm curious – I'm always curious, pretty much, but specifically – I haven't ever seen anyone like you. I'm just…well, curious, like I said." Zan gave her a polite smile.

"Yeah, I can see why," Willow said, "I traveled pretty far up the Argentek river with my sponsor in the Zann Esu, and the people up there were similar, in some ways."

"Similar skin tones," Zan agreed, with an enigmatic little grin, "on my way west I passed as a native of those areas now and then. But I'm not from there."

"On your way west," Willow echoed, "from further east? I don't know anyone who's been further than the shores of the Sea of Light, past the mountain ranges…beyond that all anyone knows is rumors and old stories, just…"

"Wild stories," Zan nodded, "I know, I've heard them. Myrreon and Ocean know all about me, but to most people I just say I'm from Ureh, just this side of the mountains. Even with all the foreign traders who put into the docks here, that's still remote enough that no-one knows much about it, and no-one asks questions."

"How come?" Willow asked. "I mean, you don't have to explain, I was just wondering…sorry, I'll shut up now."

"That's alright," Zan said gently, "I don't mind. I'm not a fugitive or anything, I just…it was a long, difficult journey coming west, and I didn't make it without good reason. I don't really want to dwell on what I left behind. Some of the wild tales aren't so wild…I wish they were."

"It's alright," Zan assured her, "you've given no offence, I promise, and if you still feel you have, then consider it forgiven. After all," he chuckled, "if we weren't curious, we wouldn't be mages, would we?"

"I guess not," Willow returned his smile, then turned her attention back to the scroll. "This is a planar phase equation, isn't it? I studied some of the original Horadric scrolls on these when I was in Kurast once."

"Master Myrreon's been working on them for a while, on and off," Zan said, "between other pursuits. It's fortunate you're here, actually, the parts of the equations that deal with elemental magic have been giving us some trouble."

"It's a tricky branch of magic," Willow replied, "especially if you're used to other kinds. I mean, we start when we're seven, and it's the first and only magic a sorceress learns, and it still takes years to get the hang of it. And decades to really master it."

"I don't have the knack at all," Zan admitted, "I can do some secondary elemental spells, manipulation – earth, fire, wind, water, that kind – but primal elements, your fire and ice and lightning, they're completely beyond me. I think it might actually be a bit of a drawback, when I work on the theory behind primal fire magic I keep expecting it to behave like the fire magic I'm used to. But it's so much more powerful, and the rules seem completely different."

"Well, I'll see what I can figure out from this," Willow said, peering at the intricate equations. "I do cold magic rather than fire, but the theory is the same, and my sponsor in the Order was a fire sorceress… let's see…"

She and Zan worked on the scroll for a few minutes, him explaining the more esoteric theoretical aspects of the calculations, Willow making notes on the elemental magic aspects, until the workshop door creaked open and a tall figure in a dark green cloak and hood came in, carrying a pair of books. Zan turned and nodded for Willow to join him as he got up and moved to greet the new arrival – a woman, Willow guessed, from the way she moved, even concealed by her clothing the feminine sway of her hips and grace of her steps was obvious, almost exaggerated in fact.

"Willow," Zan said, "this is Ocean, Master Myrreon's apprentice. Ocean, this is Willow, she's the sorceress who'll be working with us for a while."

The woman handed her books to Zan, reached up with gloved hands and drew back her hood, giving Willow the second notable surprise of her day. In form she was entirely human, the dimensions and shape of her face no different to any other woman, though particularly elegant, beautiful in an aristocratic way, framed by long black hair that was drawn back into a tight braid. What was startling about her was that every inch of her skin was glistening viridian scales, shining like mother-of-pearl, and her eyes too were those of a serpent. She politely ignored Willow's surprise, nodding in greeting before making a brief sign- gesture with one hand.

"Um, thanks," Willow managed, "me too…hi." She smiled and extended a hand, which Ocean shook – her grip was gentle, yet with a suggestion of strength behind it, carefully controlled.

"What? Oh, good!" Myrreon got up from his desk, where he and Tara had been deep in discussion, and she had now and then been demonstrating motions, as if drawing a bow. She followed him across the workshop floor, ducking beneath the arm holding the innermost planet of the orrery, which extended down further than the others to accommodate extra gearing.

"My apprentice," Myrreon said to Tara, "Ocean, this is Tara, she's…I'm sorry," he said, turning to Tara, "I forgot to ask, is it Lady Tara, or…? I'm afraid I don't know the proper form of address for an Amazon."

"Just 'Tara'," Tara said with a smile, "hello." She shook Ocean's hand, having had the advantage of seeing her as she neared to take in her unusual appearance.

"She's Willow's partner," Myrreon went on, glancing at the books Zan was carrying, "what've you got there?" Ocean made a complex gesture. "Oh, the Horadric Astronomica…both volumes? Excellent, well, we'll see what we can see with the telescope tonight, and make some adjustments to the orrery tomorrow if we have the time. Of, excuse me," he said to Willow, "if I could borrow Zan for a moment, I've been jotting down a couple of notes while your lovely partner was explaining her magic, I think they may help with that scroll you've been looking at."

All four of them followed him back to his cluttered desk, where he made a couple of additional notes to a piece of paper and peered at it in thought. Willow had to pause for a moment, to duck around the orrery, and when she caught up and stood next to Tara, something among the piled devices on the desk began to emit a low chiming sound.

"Hmm, what's that," Myrreon said absently, "it's not midday yet, is the sunlight clock running early again?"

"No, it's over there Master," Zan said, pointing to another table, "I took it apart to fix the photoreactive pentagram, remember?"

"Oh, yes," Myrreon nodded, "in that case…help me with this, would you?" With Zan's help he lifted a large wire framework decorated with crystals off the desk and set it on the floor, then began digging through the pile of smaller artifacts and devices, handing them to Zan or Ocean, who put them on shelves or other tables.

"Ah, it's…oh my word," he said, audibly surprised, "that is unusual." He reached into the pile and drew out a small box, barely three inches from edge to edge, decorated with gold patterns over a lacquered black finish.

"It's a Horadric Cube, isn't it?" Willow asked Myrreon. "I've seen one, in the Zann Esu vaults, and drawings of them of course…"

"Yes," Myrreon said, "a transmutarium, commonly called a Horadric Cube. I acquired it from my old master a few years ago, when he retired."

"It's a relic from the Sin Wars," Willow whispered to Tara, "the old Horadrim mages fashioned them to perform very powerful magic, transmutation – turning one thing into another. Not just changing things, but literally remaking them, they could turn, oh, anything, soil into metal, rainwater into potions-"

"Provided one knew the correct alignments to fix into the cube," Myrreon nodded, "which, sadly, are largely lost to the mists of time. I've been working with this one on and off since I got it, but transmutation is a very complicated art – I mean, the magic alone, to do it as a spell, takes years to learn, just for simple spells. Working out how to configure the cube to access its full range of spells…well, the possible configurations are in the millions, and reverse-analyzing the magic is a very tedious, difficult procedure."

Willow took a step forward and leant over the desk, peering closely at the small device, which looked like nothing more powerful than a puzzle box. The chiming sound it was emitting increased, gaining additional harmonics.

"So why is it doing that?" Zan asked, as he, Ocean and Tara also drew closer to look at the cube.

"Objects that have been transmuted by a cube retain a, a signature of sorts. It's reacting to that," Myrreon said, picking it up. He held it close to Willow, and again its pitch increased – he drew it back, and the chiming calmed.

"Something you're carrying, most likely," Myrreon said, "your staff, perhaps? Was it made for you, or were you given it? Does it have any unusual properties?"

"This?" Willow said, glancing at her plain wooden staff. "Um, my sponsor in the Order gave it to me, it was one of hers I think…but it's not powerful, I mean it seems to have a knack for energy control, but pretty much any sorceress would have a staff with some kind of magical ability imbued into it. Besides, it wouldn't fit in that little thing."

"Oh, the cube's dimensions are variable, if you know how to work it," Myrreon said. Willow shrugged, stood back and handed her staff to Tara, then took a step closer to the desk again. The cube reacted just as it had before.

"Not the staff, then," she said. Over the next couple of minutes she patiently emptied the pouches on her belt, passing each tiny scroll, vial or charm to Tara, who put them into a bag Ocean handed her. She finished divesting herself of all her usual equipment, and glared at the cube, as if it were doing this on purpose.

"Well it's not my robes," she complained patting the other empty pouches on her belt, "and I don't have any other…oh, wait," she said, reaching into a pocket, "I thought I'd got everything…oh, this." She held up the medallion she and Tara had found in the monastery.

"That?" Tara wondered. Willow held it closer to the cube, which chimed more shrilly.

"Interesting," Myrreon said, "may I?" Willow handed him the gold disc and he peered at it intently. "Mmm, some religious significance, but no particular markings that would indicate magical properties, where did you get it?"

"The Kotram monastery," Willow said, "the renegade mage there had taken it from the chapel…what is it?"

"I don't know," the old mage said, "I would guess…camouflage? Something important that's been transmuted to keep it from being found, perhaps. That mage, he died, didn't he? The Duke said he was dead, is that right?"

"Yes," Willow said, "he took his own life just before we arrived. He…from what he wrote, it looks like the demon he was serving drove him insane."

"Ah," Myrreon nodded sadly, "yes, dreadful business…but I suppose, given that, there's no obvious danger in seeing what this might contain."

"You don't think it might be dangerous?" Tara asked, gently putting a protective hand around Willow's arm.

"I doubt it," Myrreon said, "the fact that the cube is resonating means that the object, whatever it used to be, was originally transmuted by another Horadric Cube, and the cubes were built with all kinds of safeguards to keep them from being used by demons, or humans under the sway of demons. I don't think this would pose us any threat…we might get an idea about what was going on down south, though, if we knew what that poor wretch was trying to find. Ocean, pay attention, this won't be something you see often. Zan, have a nullification spell ready, just to be on the safe side. Now then…"

With Willow, Tara and Zan watching from a few paces away, and Ocean watching attentively from the side of the desk, Myrreon began methodically dismantling the cube. Muttering under his breath he traced his fingers over its surface, sometimes following the gold patterns set into it, sometimes completely different. With every pattern he traced a piece of the cube would slide out, and the chiming melody coming from it would change. Finally there was only the edges of the cube, a hollow frame, with tiny puzzle-like pieces surrounding it on the desk.

"Well, that's the easy part done," Myrreon said. He delicately opened the frame, bending back the tiny hinges at each corner to lay it out flat, and placed the medallion in the center of it. Then he closed the frame back around it, lifting each edge into place and latching it back into the shape of a cube. The pieces of the cube sparkled dimly, and the chiming slowly faded to silence. The medallion never moved, exactly, but somehow by the time the cube's frame was back in place, it was suspended in the exact center, and seemed a good deal smaller, not as if it had shrunk, but more as if it were being seen from some distance away.

"Good, isn't it?" Myrreon chuckled to himself. "You see, the cube's edges have a certain inherent dimensional component to them, so as you close the cube, whatever is inside it becomes subverted from the mortal plane, and exists in a parallel plane created within the cube's phase space."

"Well," Willow shrugged, "five minutes ago I'd have said no. I've never actually seen one of these in action."

"Few people have," Myrreon said, "Ocean, would you get my notebook, the one with the cube formulae? Thank you." The snake woman crossed to a bookshelf and drew out a slim volume, opening it as she returned and placing it on the desk in front of Myrreon.

"Now, what we want to do is reverse the existing transmutation," he explained, "fortunately that's a fairly simple configuration…you see, changing one thing into another requires that the cube be configured, given instructions if you like, to define what it is that is being put into it, and what it must be turned into. An that's quite a bit more complicated than asking for a magic sword, you have to…" he paused, and flipped through the pages, "ah, here we are…you have to define virtually every particle and energy state, which is no easy thing. Fortunately, once a transmutation has occurred, it…Zan, could you fetch my magnifying glass? Yes, once a transmutation has occurred, the form or the original components remains suspended within the particulate composition of the final product, sort of like a, a blueprint in the core of it. All we have to do is set the cube to unwind that blueprint and apply it back to the subject, and the spell will, in effect, undo itself. At least," he glanced back with a smile, "that's the theory, I've only ever managed it with very simple objects that I've managed to transmute here in the first place, so this could be tricky…"

Frequently referring to his notes, Myrreon slowly rebuilt the sides of the cube from the pieces scattered over the desk. Willow took a step closer to peer at the patterns on the reassembled cube, finding as she had suspected they were different than they had been – the mage was putting the pieces into different positions.

"Yes, that's right," Myrreon nodded, still working, "and as you can see, there's a hundred and fifty pieces, each of them potentially taking any position on any of the six faces of the cube, so the permutations alone are incredibly extensive."

"That's…" Willow's brow furrowed in thought, "that's a lot…a big lot…five point seven to…drat… power of five hundred and fifty…something?" Ocean gestured briefly.

"She says you're pretty close," Zan translated. "She's got a mathematical mind like no-one I've ever known." He gave her a brief smile, which she returned, and Willow was struck by how human it made her seem, despite her serpentine appearance.

"And that's just the combinations," Myrreon went on, "it also depends on which order the pieces are put in, which orientation they have…according to the texts I've read, the remaining pieces of a partially completed cube have been known to alter their shape and surface detail, though I've never managed to achieve that effect. Luckily, as I said, reversing a transmutation is relatively simple."

He worked patiently for a while longer, then finally stood back, with the small box intact in the center of the desk.

"Hmm? Oh," the mage said, reaching out, "of course…we activate it, and…well, see what happened." He touched the center of the upper face of the cube, then stood back with a satisfied expression. There was a low chiming, then the top of the cube lifted up, parts of it sliding out of the base, rising in a star-shape. When the extruded segment reached the top of its travel it rotated around and sunk back into place, ninety degrees away from its original position, but once more in the form of a cube. For a moment, Willow had thought she glimpsed tiny crystals and geometric structures of light through the gaps in the faces.

"And there we have it," Myrreon said triumphantly, stepping forward. He opened the top of the cube as if it were just a box, and folded the sides down to reveal a gleaming gold ring, slightly larger across than the cube had been, despite having been contained within it a moment ago. It was flat like a disc, about an inch wide from its outer edge to the inner, five inches across in all, and completely featureless.

"What is it?" Tara and Willow both said at once. Myrreon picked it up and peered at it.

"Well, I was rather hoping you would be able to tell me," he said, "it doesn't correspond to anything you saw at the monastery?" At their blank looks, he looked to Zan, who shrugged, and Ocean, who took a quick look at it, gestured, and headed towards a nearby bookshelf.

"Well, my apprentice will see if she can find any mention of something like this in one of the Vizjerei catalogues of artifacts and relics, but I must say I don't think it'll be there – it doesn't seem magical at all, and I'm normally quite sensitive to magical auras, unless this has some kind of magic too subtle to detect. Well," he said, handing the flattened ring to Willow, "we'll do what analyses we can on it this afternoon, you might be interested in observing the spells for compositional determination, I don't have cause to use them very often. And of course you must tell me as much as you know about what happened at the monastery…but you know, I rather think this might be a red herring."

"Hmm? Oh, figure of speech," Myrreon explained, "something that seems important but is actually irrelevant to the matter at hand. The renegade was, as you say, insane, he may have felt something vital to whatever devilry he was up to was concealed in that medallion, when in fact it was…this." He peered again at the disc. "Quite plain, isn't it? Looks a bit like one of those weapons, what are they called? They use them on the eastern shore of the Sea of Light, twirl them around their fingers and let them loose, they fly quite a way…"

"Yes, that's it," Myrreon agreed, "it's not a weapon, I'm sure, at least not a magical one, there's certainly not the kind of power in it you'd need to generate a destructive force. Odd. Oh well," he clapped his hands together, "shall we order up lunch?"

Tara said her goodbyes after lunch, thanking Myrreon for his time and interest, saying a few words to Zan and Ocean, and giving Willow a kiss before she left the tower and headed back to their room. She found Lissa in her usual waiting room on the floor below, leafing idly through a newspaper.

"I could use some local knowledge," she explained when the attendant asked if she could be of service. "I've got an appointment later this afternoon, but there's enough time to go out before then. Willow and I will be in the Duke's party going to the opera house tonight…"

"I know Miss," Lissa said, "I'll be along with the other servants, if you need anything."

"Oh? Good, thank you," Tara smiled, "but what I need is…well, all I've got for formal occasions is my armor, the ceremonial set, and this isn't really that kind of occasion anyway, but the other dresses I brought are more, well, everyday clothes. I was wondering, would you know anywhere I could get a, well," she gave a shy smile, "something nice to wear? I-I'd like to look good for Willow tonight."

"That shouldn't be a problem for you, Miss," Lissa said, "if you don't mind me saying so…and I think I know just the place."

Tara stood in front of the mirror, staring critically at her reflection. She experimented a little with the bunching of the skirt at her hips, essayed a twirl, and smiled as the folds of fabric spun and fell perfectly into place. She pretended to bow to her mirror image, then got a mischievous smile, undid the topmost cross of laces over her chest, bowed again, and raised an eyebrow in anticipation.

Tara had seen the dress in the shop window of the boutique Lissa had taken her to, a small, modest store not far from the Parliament house, and had been so entranced that she had without thinking walked right out from underneath their umbrella to get a better look. Luckily the night's storm had waned into a light drizzle, so she only got slightly damp before Lissa caught up with her. She had been overjoyed, and even Lissa had seemed pleased, when the woman who ran the store said she had such a dress already cut very close to Tara's proportions. She had taken Tara's measurements, asked a fairly reasonable price for such a stylish garment, and promised that the minor alterations she needed to make would be done well in time for the evening.

The rest of the afternoon was spent at the barracks of the Duke's army, a small fortified compound near the bridge across the Marien off-shoot that flowed behind the palace. Tara spoke at length to General Murine, a stocky man with close-cut white hair and a short white beard. Tryptin had included a couple of pages of notes with his letter, including some details of the campaign being waged in the north against the bandits, and the procedures and idiosyncrasies of the Duncraig military – Tara had been impressed with his ability to absorb information, considering he had never before set foot in the city, and Murine in turn seemed pleased that Tara understood his position and how best she could help him meet his needs. When she first arrived in his office overlooking the small parade ground he seemed very businesslike, speaking in short sentences, always to the point, but after the first few minutes, in which Tara had laid out the basics of the situation as she had seen it in the demon-infested lands to the south, he had evidently decided she was a serious warrior and perhaps a source of valuable information, and thus to be treated with more than common courtesy. They spent the next couple of hours retracing Tara and Willow's journey in detail, with the aid of one of the General's excellent maps which seemed to show every possible detail – even the stream at which they had paused to bathe after finding Amalee, and the little lake in the forest just over the ridge west of Kotram where Tara had lain on the sun-warmed stone and very physically reassured Willow of her well-being. Tara omitted the more personal details from her account, but left out nothing concerning demons – where they had been seen, what they had done, where they had found tracks or signs of them. The map even included a sketch of tunnels from the monastery to the villages, which Tara elaborated on. The General made careful note of everything she said in a small book, of which there were dozens lined up on a bookshelf. From the glimpses Tara had of his writing he used some sort of shorthand, with abbreviations and symbols, and wrote in a careful, small script such that all the information she gave him was compacted down into three pages.

With some time left before she intended to return to the Palace – she was sure Willow would be in the mage's tower all afternoon – the General gave her a brief tour of the compound, which as she had thought was quite new, built only seven years previously, to replace the old army quarters which had been within the Palace itself. Tara had mentioned some similarities between the compound's training grounds and her own, in Tran Athulua, and after a short discussion on training techniques for bows and javelins, Murine had invited Tara to demonstrate her talents. The compound's armory was modern and well-stocked, and Tara quickly found a bow she liked the feel of, with which she put several arrows in a cluster at the center of her target.

She wondered, thinking back on it, whether Tryptin might have already dropped a word in someone's ear about taking her on as an instructor, for the General had quite obviously been sizing her up as an archer, and on seeing her performance had offered her a contract on the spot. She looked forward to telling Willow the good news – ten crowns a day, four days a week, was enough to get by on in itself, but given that food and accommodation was provided for her as long as she stayed in the Palace, it meant that when she and Willow eventually headed towards Khanduras, she would have enough to see them comfortably through until the next large settlement when archery training might be in need.

'With enough for the occasional luxury as well,' she thought, taking another look at herself in the mirror. The dress was waiting, laid out on the bed, when she got back to the Palace, and Lissa gave her a thumbs-up as she passed the servants' quarters on the stairs. It was certainly worth every crown Tara had paid for it, and imagining Willow seeing her, she found herself growing quite excitedly impatient for her lover's return.

The dress was slate gray, with hints of blue as it caught the light, a luxurious hue that, quite aside from being stylish and elegant in itself, drew attention to the healthy glow of Tara's skin, and the gold of her hair which she wore loose around her circlet. The skirt was carefully pleated, gathered on either side her waist and flowing the floor, where it trailed just a fraction, enough to look stately without tripping anyone over. The bodice was simple yet eye-catching – slit down the front from waist to chest, held with double rows of crossed laces up to just below the middle of her chest, where it had just enough strength in it to hold itself up and open gently into a wide neckline, with lapels on either side of her exposed cleavage showing the pearl-white inner lining of the garment. Beneath it, a flat-topped black satin bustier was just high enough to be glimpsed as the bodice opened out, and was surprisingly comfortable – Tara had wondered whether it might be somewhat restraining, given the look of it, reminiscent of the tightly-corseted style of fashion, but in fact it was merely supportive. From the wide neck, which exposed almost the full width of her shoulders, the sleeves ran loosely down to cuffs held with tiny silver buttons, and Tara had found, as she had guessed in the shop, that her lightest pair of boots, dark gray, soft leather with pointed toes, matched the dress quite well, not that they were visible as anything but the occasional toe poking out from beneath the skirt as she walked. The whole effect was reminiscent of a very elaborate, baroque style, and might not have looked terribly out of place among bustles and hoop skirts, yet the dressmaker had taken the idea and applied to it a liberated style, creating a dress that was at the same time formal and downright sexy. Tara made a mental note to return to the shop and thank the proprietor for her work.

She smiled and crossed the room to stand near the breakfast table as she heard Willow's footsteps – fast, eager, and with the occasional sound of the base of her staff on the stairs – approaching from beyond the main door. The doorknob turned a fraction, then all the way.

"Hey, you back already?" Willow began asking before she had even come through the door, "next time you're free there's something you've just got to see, Myrreon's built a-"

She stopped in her tracks as she turned and saw Tara, the excitement on her face flooded away by a look of amazement.

"Uh-huh," Willow said, as if dazed. "I-I mean yes…yes! Goddess, you're beautiful!" She dropped her staff in the corner, where it fell to lean against the mantelpiece, and took a few hesitant steps forward to stand in front of Tara, gazing into her eyes.

"More than beautiful," she whispered, leaning in to kiss her. Tara eagerly accepted her kiss, opening her mouth to give Willow free rein, to feel her as she pressed her lips against her, tentatively teased her with her tongue. Willow seemed entranced, slightly overwhelmed – Tara found it reminiscent of the lazy kisses they shared after climax, when they lay in each other's arms with all their strength gone.

"I love you," Willow grinned, looking her up and down, "oh goddess, where did you get this?"

"Lissa showed me a shop on my way out to the barracks," Tara said, "they had it in just my size."

"So, you own this now?" Willow asked, as if not believing her luck. "It's not borrowed, or…you can put it on whenever you want?" Tara nodded.

"Oh gods, don't tempt me," Willow said vehemently, "not that this afternoon was boring, no way, but I did kind of keep thinking about you, and this…this is just exquisite." She walked slowly around Tara, her hands trailing over her waist, absorbing every detail of the dress.

"Baby, you could make the whole world seem uninteresting," Willow said, still wide-eyed as she returned to stand in front of Tara. "It's this thing Myrreon's built, it's not working just yet but I've never seen anything like it. It's a sort of…kind of a clockwork engine for doing calculations. I spent an hour this afternoon looking over the plans for it and the parts he and Zan have put together already, after we went over the demon stuff, and I had a couple of ideas about it, so we're going to see if we can get a segment of the gearing working, to see how it goes with a few simple tests."

"Oh, who knows? There could be all sorts of applications, if it works, and if it turns out to be practical – at the moment only the motive elements are finished, and Zan says it throws a gear every five minutes or so. It's just a, an idea that got built. Myrreon does that a lot, just thinks of something, and off he goes and sees where the idea goes."

"This definitely makes up for those mages in Kingsport who just gave me a bunch of books and shuffled me out of their rooms as quick as they could," Willow went on, "there's no way I'm going to get bored here. Two months in the Palace, then some more time at the university, and maybe a couple of weeks each with a few independent mages in the magical quarter – this is going to be great!" She jumped lightly and clapped her hands, which was so adorable that Tara couldn't resist gathering her in her arms and kissing her again.

"Ah…of course," Willow murmured, resting contently in Tara's arms, "I know one area of my life where I'm never bored, or unsatisfied." She smiled alluringly into Tara's gaze. "Or anything less than great."

"Darn right," Tara said, doing a passable imitation of Willow's voice. Willow giggled, then hugged Tara and rested her head on her shoulder, brushing her cheek lightly against her.

"Is it always going to be like this?" she asked. "Are you always going to make the simplest things, like wearing a fancy dress, or talking, or just holding you…so special I almost want to cry because I'm so happy?" Tara leaned to kiss her forehead, then began stroking her hair.

"Yay," Willow murmured, tickling Tara's neck with her lips. She gave Tara a final squeeze, then loosened her hug enough to stand back a little way and look at her.

"So, would you like to come see the amazing breaking-down thinking engine?" she smiled.

"I'd like that," Tara replied, "it sounds fascinating. If Myrreon doesn't mind having me around his workshop?"

"Oh, of course not!" Willow grinned. "When we were talking about the demon I explained most of what happened to us, and all the stuff about you and your magic fascinated him. Not just the lightning-blast kind, the sensing as well. I think he'd like the chance to talk to you again."

"That's nice of him," Tara said, "I liked talking to him. He seemed very smart."

"He certainly is," Willow said, reluctantly disengaging herself from Tara's arms to snatch a bite to eat from the bowl of fruit on the table. "A bit forgetful sometimes, but wow he's smart. Some of the times he got going about the work he's done on astrology, or magical energy flow theory, I had trouble keeping up sometimes. Not for long," she added, smiling sidelong at Tara.

"I know," Tara said, pulling around the other chair to sit beside her, "I bet by the time you're finished studying with him you'll have absorbed every last bit of knowledge in that workshop." She picked an apple and took a bite. "How did things go about Shadai? Promising?"

"Definitely promising," Willow nodded, "Myrreon himself is more into natural mechanics, stuff on this plane, but he knows the theory behind the ethereal planes easily as well as I do, probably better in parts. He was a bit surprised at the idea of a demon existing within an ethereal plane – fair enough, it's not what you'd expect – but the more we went over what we know and what's been going on, the more he saw it was the most likely explanation. Mostly he took as many notes as I could give him, added in all the theory he knew, and that's going to go to the university for their mages to have a look at and see what they can come up with." She leaned back in her chair and took a thoughtful bite from the peach she had chosen.

"The danger aside, it's an interesting problem," she said, "the nature of the ethereal plane makes it more a matter of brainwork than power. I mean, normally with a demon the best thing to do – unless you're a very good banisher, and I'm not looking to make that mistake again – is to just hit it with as much power as you can muster. The only need for subtlety is to see that as much power as possible goes into attacking the demon's physical form itself, rather than blasting apart half the building it's in, or blowing a great big crater out of the ground. In this case it's all different. Myrreon thinks the solution will probably be some sort of dimensional warping spell, to sort of slide the demon, which in the ethereal plane is basically an energy form, out of the plane and into interplanar meta-space, where the natural bond between Shadai and her home in the deepest darkest pit of hell will take effect and zip her back there like releasing the catch on a crossbow." She paused and glanced at Tara. "You're following this, right?"

"I think so," Tara smiled, "after all, I've been around you for a while, and you're so overflowing with magical learning that I guess it's been rubbing off on me."

"Rubbing off on you, huh?" Willow smirked. Tara laughed, and Willow went on: "Anyway, instead of a matter of battle magic, it's all to do with some of the most rarefied theoretical magics that exist, real academia stuff. Sort of whoever has the biggest brains wins. Luckily demons aren't known for their smarts. Cunning, some of the powerful ones, but not that kind of intellect. Whereas we have a university on our side. Did you know," she added, grinning, "they've got a Professor of Applied Ethereality?" She shook her head. "This city has everything."

She paused in her enthusiasm, Tara watching fondly, as the bell outside the door rang.

"From the laundry, Miss Willow," Tara heard Lissa say when Willow opened the door.

"My dress," Willow said, "thanks Lissa. The one you haven't seen yet," she went on, closing the door, "it'd spoil the surprise if you saw me putting it on, and I definitely owe you a pleasant surprise considering how gorgeous you look tonight. Okay, you can look."

Tara turned around again, seeing Willow by the bed, where her dress was presumably laid out beneath the sheet she had pulled back.

"Um," Willow said, "this'll take a moment…we could kind of do with another room here…"

"You want me to wait in the bathroom?" Tara offered. Willow looked slightly pained at the idea.

"If there was a comfy chair in there, yeah, but – how about I change in the bathroom, and you wait out here?"

"There's no full-length mirror in there," Tara pointed out, "how about this, there's probably going to be food going around at the performance, but just snacks and stuff. If you want, I could go with Lissa and get a light dinner from the kitchen, and that'll give you time to change."

"Okay," Willow smiled, "good thinking. If they've got any, I'm in the mood for a pastry?"

"Sounds good," Tara agreed, walking towards Willow, "but before I go…" She reached out to trail her fingertips over Willow's hip.

"Well," Tara murmured, "I may not be able to see you get dressed, but that doesn't mean I can't help you undress, does it?"

"Oh," Willow said, a smile of comprehension dawning over her face, "yeah, you're quite right, it doesn't…well then," she grinned, "shall I place myself in your capable hands?"

"Sounds good," Tara said again, this time in a seductive purr. Standing behind Willow she undid the thin sash around her waist and slipped her Zann Esu robe from her shoulders, catching it as it fell and laying it on the bedside table. She hugged Willow from behind, looking over her shoulder at the mirror, lazily taking in Willow's reflection from head to toe in her loose buttoned tunic, silky skirt and soft boots.

"You know," she murmured in Willow's ear, reaching around her to start to undo her buttons, "I think you get sexier every time I look at you."

"I do?" Willow asked, slightly incredulous but not particularly inclined to argue while Tara's hands brushed against her nipples through the thin fabric of her top.

"You do," Tara confirmed, "I think because whenever I look at you every detail is locked into my memory, clear and brilliant as sunlight…then when I look again, every little sexy smile you've ever given me, every sway of your hips, every wiggle of that delightful bottom," she grinned and gave Willow a light swat with one hand, as the other finished undoing her top, "is all still with me. So every time I look at you, there's more sexiness just…" She paused and kissed the back of Willow's neck through her hair. "…just filling me up."

"Is that right…?" Willow breathed. Her shirt had fallen open, leaving a wide gap between the halves of its front all the way up from her waist, which Tara's hand idly followed. Tara grinned and stroked her finger up and down Willow's cleavage, playing with the catch on her bra.

"Uh-huh," she whispered, "and you know I can never get enough Willow." Willow nodded silently, a delighted shiver running up her spine.

"Mmm-mmm," Willow purred contentedly, as if savoring a pleasant taste. "You know what this reminds me of? Remember the first night we slept together – I mean, slept in the same bed – back at the Baron's castle? The morning after, after we'd teased each other a bit-"

"I remember," Tara said, one hand on the waist of Willow's skirt, the other sneaking in beneath her tunic to cup her right breast through the fabric of her bra, "you told me… you went back to your room, looked in the mirror…"

"…imagined you were there with me," Willow picked up as Tara pressed a kiss to her shoulder, slipping her tunic down her arm, "gods, remember me telling you?"

"It's not the kind of moment I could ever forget," Tara smiled, "but you know, you didn't go into much detail when you were whispering to me and feeling me get wetter and wetter against your thigh. How, exactly, was I holding you?"

"I'd taken off my skirt as well," Willow said as Tara slipped off her tunic and tossed it lightly on top of her robe. She put both arms around Willow and quickly undid the cord in her skirt, crouching as she slid it down her legs, resting her cheek against Willow's thigh as she stepped out of the pool of material on the ground.

"And you weren't wearing any panties that morning, were you?" Tara asked, staring up the length of Willow's body as Willow looked down at her.

"No," Willow grinned, "they were in your laundry basket, and all my other clothes were back in my room, so I couldn't. No-one knew, with the long skirt. Except you, of course." Tara kissed her thigh.

"Naughty girl," she murmured. With Willow eagerly watching, she reached up and took hold of the waist of her underwear, pulling the thin covering very slowly down her thighs, her calves, and carefully pulling the loops over her boots. She glanced up at Willow, then delicately held the fabric close and inhaled.

"Mmm," she purred, "Willow-scent." A grin spread across her face, and she bunched up the underwear and, holding the low neck of her dress out with her other hand, tucked it into her cleavage beneath the bustier.

"Who's the naughty girl now?" Willow challenged with a grin. Tara gave her a shameless smile in reply, then stood up slowly, circling around Willow as she did so, letting her eyes pass very deliberately over her body as she rose. Standing behind Willow, she again leant over her shoulder.

"Like this?" she whispered, gazing at their reflections in the mirror. "Breathing deep, watching your chest rise and fall…watching the moistness glisten between your legs…"

"All I wanted was for you to touch me," Willow answered, closing her eyes, "just to feel your hands on me…for you to enjoy me…"

"Touch you like this?" Tara asked, resting one arm around Willow's waist while the other returned to her breast. "Is this how it was?" She gently tugged down the cup of her bra, revealing her breast before covering it with her hand.

"That's it," Willow breathed, her hands covering Tara's, guiding them, "teasing my nipple…oh yes, like that…and this hand," she guided Tara's other hand to cup her mound, "oooh…holding me…ready to take me…"

"You weren't wasting much time, were you?" Tara chuckled, pressing lightly, rhythmically, with her palm, massaging Willow's mound.

"After the teasing you gave me that morning?" Willow asked gleefully. "Uh-uh, I was just lucky I made it to my room!" Tara laughed, and lightly stroked a single finger along the length of Willow's folds, drawing a sigh from her. She stepped around Willow, standing in front of her, and in full view of her lifted her finger and delicately licked every trace of moisture from it.

"There's more where that came from," Willow said with an innocent grin. Tara laughed again, then kissed her, slow and carefree.

"Later," she said, "we've got a show to see. We don't want to be late." She raised an eyebrow at Willow's wide-eyed stare.

"You are evil," Willow accused, breaking into a grin as she put her hands on her hips and, in spite of the grin, mustering her best glare.

"We've already established you're naughty; wouldn't you say we make a good pair? I promise I'll make it up to you," Tara smiled. Willow laughed and skipped around Tara to swat her bottom.

"Nope," Willow quipped, "just something I came up with myself." Tara gave her another quick kiss.

"Aw, even when you're evil you're so sweet," Willow replied, gazing fondly at Tara and cupping her face in her palms. "I'm not mad, I promise."

"Okay," Tara said, relieved, and smiling again. "You know I don't want to frustrate you…"

"I know," Willow said, kicking off her boots and undoing her bra, "you just love to tease me! Don't worry, I can wait, my sexy temptress. Now, dress time, off you go." She playfully shooed Tara towards the door.

"Love you too," Willow replied, miming catching it and placing it next to her heart.

Tara still felt slightly guilty for so mercilessly teasing Willow – though not enough to upset her, thanks to Willow's reassurances – but she found she too was in a state of anxious anticipation as she climbed the stairs, a jug in one hand and a tray in the other, with a pair of pastries hot from the oven than she and Lissa had liberated from the kitchen. She tried, and failed, to stop herself guessing what Willow might be wearing – aside from her Zann Esu battle gear, the only formal attire she had seen Willow in was the green dress she had worn at Kingsport castle. But the secrecy Willow had employed in preparing her dress for the night's outing told Tara that it was going to be something different.

'Probably something that'll knock me off my feet,' Tara thought with a grin. She reached the landing, set the tray and jug aside, and knocked on the door.

"Your dinner is here, Miss Willow," she called in a playful voice. She heard a stifled giggle from inside, then footsteps, and the doorknob turned.

The door swung open, and Willow stood before her, striking a casually sexy pose, one foot in front of the other, her hand resting high on the doorframe. Tara felt her jaw drop, and was glad their dinner was safely on the landing table, not in her hands where she probably would have dropped everything in delighted surprise. From her neck to the floor Willow was clad in a deep, rich scarlet, matching her hair, velvet and soft, practically demanding to be touched, stroked, worshipped. The neck of the dress was high, and it widened over her chest, covering everything quite modestly, though as Willow half-turned and grinned Tara caught a glimpse of the hem plunging low on her back, where she was bare almost to the waist. But aside from that, and her bare arms, she was completely covered – not that it made any difference, for the dress clung to her as tightly as Tara wanted to, cupping her breasts, curving in around her waist, clinging to her hips, outlining her shapely thighs, finally loosening beneath her knees to flow elegantly to the ground. She wore a slim sash, scarlet to match her dress, with thin strands of silver threaded through it, loose around her waist, looped at the front and trailing down to her ankles. She had foregone any other decoration, and Tara couldn't imagine how any amount of jewelry, trim or woven patterns could make her any more beautiful and downright desirable than she already was.

"So," Willow said in a soft murmur, "do I look good enough to escort you tonight?" Tara couldn't help but laugh at the question.

"You look good enough to escort me even if I was visiting the houses of the gods themselves," she smiled. "Better, in fact. You'd make the other goddesses jealous."

"Thank you," Willow said shyly, leaning forward to gently kiss her. Tara caught her around the waist, and for a long moment they stayed there in the doorway, sharing a long, promising kiss.

"It seems they're popular in the Palace kitchens," Tara said, picking up the tray and handing it to Willow, "Lissa said they've usually got some in the oven just in case someone wants a snack."

"Yum," Willow said taking a bite from hers, "ooh, nice and hot…remind me to thank her later. You know," she went on as Tara followed her into the room and moved to pour a glass of juice, "that look you had just now, when you saw me-"

"…seeing you light up like that, at seeing me – thank you," she interrupted herself, taking the glass Tara offered her, "that was so lovely. I felt – I feel, wonderful. Thank you my love."

"You're welcome," Tara smiled, giving her a lingering kiss before pouring herself a glass. "You really do look absolutely beautiful."

"So do you," Willow replied. She sidled up next to Tara and leant against her, allowing both of them to share the simple physical contact as they ate.

"It's funny to think back," Tara mused, "last time I was at home, I was apprehensive about making this journey."

"That's fair enough," Willow noted, "your first time away from home and all. I mean, I've had a nice head-start on traveling all over the place, but still, I'd never been to Westmarch before, and it's a long way from anywhere I've known."

"If I'd known I'd find you," Tara went on, "I wouldn't even have waited for the ship, I'd just have swum the whole way." Willow laughed out loud, and hugged her with one arm as she finished off her pastry.

"Huh? Oh," Willow grinned, "just imagining you swimming. Well, not swimming as such, more lazily floating around in crystal clear waters. Somewhere safe, but nicely remote…no-one else to see us."

"Ah," Tara nodded, "no need to wear anything, then. Are you standing on the bank watching me?"

"I think I could," Tara said lightly, "if I come over to the shore, wading through the shallows towards you, all glistening wet, sunlight shining off my naked body, water dripping from me, flowing down my legs…"

"Next time we're traveling, keep an eye out for safe, remote lakes," Tara murmured.

"I certainly will," Willow promised. "Eat up, we should head downstairs soon. It'll take a few minutes for us to even get to the entrance hall."

The rain had started up again, light but constant, so that the assembled guests of the Duke were in the hall, rather then out on the steps, when Willow and Tara reached them. They exchanged polite greetings and nods with a few noblemen and other influential guests, none of whom they knew and none of whom seemed to know who they were, not that that stopped them making their most courteous greetings to the two women. Lissa, who had accompanied them in an elegant, if subdued, dress, drifted over to where the various servants and attendant were assembled.

"Wow, you got his attention," Willow said quietly, after they exchanged a few words with a man in an extravagantly expensive jacket. His gaze was still fixed on Tara as they walked away.

"Well, that military man before him nearly hit the floor with his jaw when he saw you," Tara replied with a grin.

"You," Tara said, "he saw me first, but then his eyes never left you. I think the woman on his arm might have given me more than a casual glance, though," she admitted, bashfully but with just a hint of satisfaction.

"Just so long as it's just looks," Willow warned with a smile. "Hey, we could play a game, see who gets the most stares tonight. You'd win," she added.

"I think we'll just have to agree to disagree on this one," Willow admitted with a rueful shake of her head.

"Guess so," Tara agreed, "oh, hey, look! Come on." She steered Willow to one side of the hall and pointed out Tryptin, just arriving from the Palace's diplomatic wing. He smiled and waved when he spotted them nearing.

"Tara, Miss Willow," he greeted them, "you both look lovely. Where did you get that?" he asked Tara, "it's not from home, is it?"

"Let me know where?" Tryptin asked. "I'd like to take something back for Melora, she'd love a dress like that."

"Soon to be," Tryptin said with a fond smile, "not long after we get home, actually. That's the one drawback to being on this mission – it's exciting to travel, but I can't wait to get home." He smiled to himself. "Well, and I don't have her here to take to the performance. But rather than let the seat go to waste, Galt here is my guest," he nodded to another Amazon, a broad-shouldered man with a surprisingly gentle face for his solid frame, standing a few meters away, who noticed his nod and wandered over, "one of our up-and-coming traders, and quite a musician, so this should be an interesting experience. Have you met Willow?"

"Speaking of home," Tara said quietly, as Willow and Galt exchanged greetings, "you should know, I…I'm, ah, staying. I mean, not forever, of course," she went on, slightly flustered, "but, well, Willow's going to be staying here for some time, and then traveling more, and I want to stay with her…what?" Tara paused in the face of Tryptin's knowing smile. Willow, who had come back to Tara's side, took her hand and held it warmly.

"It's not really a surprise," Tryptin said, allowing Tara a sigh of relief. "I can't imagine you two parting. Actually I thought you'd stay together even when we were traveling, and since you got back from your adventure in the wild…well, the bond between you is obvious." He smiled at Willow, then at Tara. "You'll be missed, both of you. But I'd be a fool to suggest you should be anywhere but with each other."

"I'll let Eponin know when I write to her that you're in good hands," Tryptin said. He turned to glance at a group of new arrivals in the hall, missing Willow and Tara glancing at each other and blushing.

"I'll write to her as well, of course," Tara added when he turned back. "The letter I sent from Kingsport, I," she glanced at Willow, "I was pretty sure. I told her I wanted to stay."

"But we'll come home," Willow put in, "to Tara's home, I mean, once I've finished studying and we're done traveling. So long as you don't mind having a sorceress among the Amazons," she added with a grin.

"Look for me in the party greeting you when you step off the ship," Tryptin smiled. He looked at Tara, leaving Willow to grin gleefully and hold Tara's hand in both of hers, idly stroking her thumbs back and forth.

"Yes," Tara replied, "he offered me a contract as an instructor." She turned, smiling, to Willow, who had started at hearing her. "Sorry I didn't tell you," she said sheepishly, "I guess it kind of slipped my mind, what with the dress and…all that," she finished with a slight blush, glancing at Tryptin.

"It's okay," Willow said, waving a hand dismissively, "so you're an instructor? That's so cool! It is, isn't it? You'll enjoy it?"

"I expect I will," Tara said, "I had a quick tour of the barracks and training grounds today, it looked quite up to date, and the soldiers looked very professional, I think it'll go well."

"A contract is a good position to have," Tryptin offered, "rather than a temporary commission. It means you'll have a formal rank, a standing within the army, but you won't be required to do active service. A commissioned instructor might be required to accompany a unit into battle, in an emergency."

"The contract system is becoming fairly common," Tryptin went on, "a lot of mercenaries sign on as instructors between campaigns, but don't want to be tied to a regiment in case it's suddenly activated, and resigning a commission with good standing can be tricky sometimes."

"Well, nothing so obvious as telling the General you were looking for a job," he said, "but a word here and there, in the right ear, it's surprising what you can do. Don't worry, I didn't exaggerate anything," he added, "if the General gave you a contract, he did it based on what he saw, not what people told him about you. Amazon archers have a good reputation generally, of course, but I know you won't have any trouble upholding that."

A trumpet sounded from the courtyard outside, and the crowd of guests began to shuffle towards the main doors, with servants quickly catching up, ready to raise umbrellas as they reached the steps. Tryptin drifted off with Galt, leaving Willow and Tara to walk together towards the doors.

"My warrior," Willow smiled in reply, looping her arm through Tara's, and together they made their way towards their carriage.

Tara climbed first into the enclosed carriage, and reached out a hand to help Willow up.

"Are you riding with us?" she asked Lissa, who had walked with them, holding up a large umbrella against the steady rain.

"If you wish, Miss," she said, folding the umbrella after lifting the hood of her thick cloak, "attendants either ride with the noblemen and ladies if they wish, or up front with the driver."

"In the rain?" asked Willow incredulously, reaching out to help Lissa inside, as Tara took her umbrella and stowed it out of the way.

"Thank you Miss," the servant smiled, seating herself on the front seat, opposite where Willow and Tara sat down. "Usually not in the rain, no, but some prefer their privacy. Just between you and me," she added, leaning forward with a slight grin, as if sharing a secret, "some of the noblemen still behave like they're in the olden days, when servants were a caste, and indentured."

"Well, I'm sure we don't need to be alone for a five minute ride to the opera house," Willow said. "Assuming you can restrain yourself," she added in a quiet murmur in Tara's ear, grinning as Tara shot her a scandalized stare, with the corners of her mouth struggling not to smile.

"Have you been to the opera before?" Tara asked Lissa, to cover her reaction, and keep from giving Willow the satisfaction of catching her out in their ongoing flirting game.

"Once Miss," the servant said, "several months ago, a guest I was attending made a visit. But he was in the stalls, so I didn't go in with him. But in the boxes, which is where your seats are tonight, it's normal for servants to stand behind the seats in case they're needed, so," she grinned, "I get to see the show."

"Not properly Miss," Lissa replied, "now and then the Duke's had performers at the Palace and I've heard them sing, but that's all, never a full opera. Even the smaller house down by the university is more than I can afford, just for one night's entertainment. The opera house, which is to say the Royal Opera, which we're going to tonight, is very prestigious, only the nobility and the wealthy go there."

"Hmm? Oh, no," she said, "opera as an art form hasn't made it to Kurast yet. It's very big in Entsteig, that's where some of the most famous operas were written, but I was just one of the apprentices, so seeing an opera wasn't really within the realm of possibility. Like you said," she said to Lissa, "it's for the wealthy and prestigious. Sorceress apprentices get enough of an allowance to do a little shopping and maybe see a show at a music hall, but opera, nuh-uh."

"It's not a full opera tonight," Lissa offered, "it's the anniversary gala, for the Duke and Duchess. It's held every year sometime during the month of their marriage, usually whenever the opera house can clear its schedule for a night. Jesye, who you met this morning, was with the Duke's party last year, she told me about it – they have all sorts of performers from all over the world, music and song and dance and, well, who knows what. Some of the performers are brought in just for the gala, and otherwise you'd never see them in Westmarch."

"When Jesye found out I'd be taking the evening shifts, she made me promise to remember every detail, to tell her later," Lissa smiled. "For a servant, it's a once in a lifetime kind of thing." She paused, then spoke up again.

"Forgive my curiosity, Miss," she said to Tara, "but I wondered, what do Amazons do as performance?"

"That's fine," Tara assured her, "well, dancing is popular – as a pastime it's encouraged for warriors, we dance a bit more," she gave Willow a quick grin, "athletically than what seems to be common here."

"There's stories about Amazons, with dancing," Lissa admitted, "but, they're kind of fanciful."

"There might be a little basis in fact to them," Tara said, "aside from performance for its own sake, there are ritual dances that tell the legends of our gods and our greatest heroes. Some of them…well," she grinned shyly, "our gods and heroes had interesting lives, and the performances don't really leave out the, um, 'fanciful' parts." She was acutely aware of Willow's attention, not to mention her thigh pressed up against her. "There's song as well," she went on, discreetly taking Willow's hand beside her and stroking it, "our earliest stories were passed down as songs. Most of them have been adapted for dancers and actors as well, but we keep the songs as well."

"They're beautiful," Willow added, smiling fondly at Tara. The carriage lurched gently, then set off to the accompaniment of the clatter of hooves on the courtyard cobblestones, and the occasional quiet creak from the suspension.

"There's a place you might both like to visit if you get the time, Miss," Lissa ventured, "the Sanctum, it's a playhouse, where the Duke's Players perform. The cheap spaces are quite reasonable, if you don't mind standing, or there's seats in the galleries if you'd prefer, and the Players are the best in the city. I heard some of them would be performing a scene tonight."

"Not often, as such," Lissa smiled, "but now and then. The week before you both arrived I saw one of the chapters of Akarat, and it left me awed the whole afternoon."

"Yes Miss. About ten years ago the church commissioned one of the playwrights attached to the Duke's company to write a play about their prophet's life. Only he got enthusiastic, I suppose, and it ended up five plays, the 'chapters'. They're very popular – I'm not a believer, but you don't have to be to enjoy the story. The Players usually have a company performing Akarat during the year, one chapter at a time. The season for the fourth chapter just finished recently, the showing I saw was a dress rehearsal of the fifth. They'll be starting in a couple of weeks."

"Well, if it's as good as you say," Willow said, giving a nod to Lissa, "you know, I've studied some of the old Zakarum texts, and I always thought it would make a pretty spectacular story. It's all very larger-than-life. Oh," she said with a sudden grin, "there's a whole branch of holy magic specifically related to the Zakarum paladins, so technically it'd be a learning experience. I don't think the Order would mind if I used a little of the money I've got on a couple of modest yet comfortable seats."

"For you and your co-researcher in magic?" Tara smiled. Lissa hid her own grin, then turned her attention to one of the carriage's windows, giving her two charges some measure of privacy.

"Absolutely," Willow insisted lightly, "I learn twice as much when you're around, 'cause I get to see everything through your eyes as well. Plus, you know what they say, a happy student is a good student?" She shifted a little closer to Tara on the seat, and leaned over, brushing her cheek on Tara's shoulder. "You make me a very, very good student." Tara smiled radiantly and put her arm around Willow's shoulders.

"Thank you, love," she murmured, "and of course I'd love to go with you. As if I could ever refuse a night out with you anyway."

The ride took only a few minutes, and then the carriage was slowly edging its way through the crowd of people and coaches in the circular plaza surrounding the opera house. Willow and Tara both leaned close to the window, staring up at the building dominating the whole area, a massive, imposing structure of carved stone, great columns rising four storeys, and between them dozens of windows, all glittering with light from within. The steps and driveway were teeming with guests, each pair or group attended by servants, holding umbrellas and cloaks. A canvas shelter extended from the opera house's front steps, so that the most important of the arrivals, whose carriages were drawing up right in front of the building, could walk the short distance to the interior in dry comfort. Though dusk had faded into evening, the whole plaza was lit bright as day by dozens of oil lamps, aided by a pair of wide bronze fire bowls, like great lighthouse signals, the flames from their supply of oil leaping high into the night, refusing to be dampened by the rain.

Willow and Tara's carriage, along with the others from the Palace, slowly edged across the front of the opera house's steps, stopping in turn to let each group of guests alight. Tryptin and Galt, along with their attendant, were in the carriage just ahead of Willow and Tara, and had just disappeared inside as their carriage pulled up and Lissa quickly disembarked, holding out a hand to both women as they got out. They both took a moment to look around, struck by the scale of the gathering, as their carriage slowly pulled away. Aside from the guests and their coaches, the street before the opera house was teeming with spectators, presumably waiting to see the Duke and Duchess arrive, though there were excited murmurs from the crowd as each carriage drew to a halt and each group of opera-goers made their way inside.

"Which is that other flag?" Willow asked Lissa. Tara peered at the crowd, which was half-obscured in the evening beyond the light of the torches and lamps, noticing many, particularly the children were waving flags. There was the familiar red, with the lion of Duncraig, but many besides those were blue, with a single white stripe and an eagle's head as its crest.

"Kartand, Miss," Lissa explained, "the Duchess's old home. She's very popular with the people, particularly the citizenry, though she's well regarded by the nobility as well. They respect the Duke as a leader and statesman, but the Duchess has a special place in our hearts. The wedding was quite spectacular – I was just a girl then, but I remember being in the crowd and seeing them go past on their way back to the Palace."

"Well, it might have," Lissa said, "it's an honor, of course, but it runs in the family as well. My mother was a lady-in-waiting back then, though not part of the party that served at the marriage. Now she's the deputy head of the Duke's household staff."

"Really?" Tara mused. "That's pretty high up, isn't it? She must have more influence than half the nobles here."

"It's a well-respected position," Lissa replied with a proud smile, "the head of the staff, Miss Valera Prederst, thinks highly of her, and says she'll ask that my mother replace her when she retires."

Willow listened in, while marveling at the opera house as they neared the wide double doors. The façade was decorated more elaborately than any building she had ever seen, including the great opera house of Sallna in Entsteig, which was widely regarded as the most prestigious in the world. 'Looks like they'll have to lift their game,' she thought wryly, 'this place is making a good effort at outshining it.' She had just enough time to glance at a couple of the sculpted marble pieces decorating the stairs on either side, which she identified from their plaques as scenes from famous epics – Tal Rasha kneeling before the Archangel Tyrael, and the crowning of Mabus, the first king of Sescheron – before they were through the doors, and she was momentarily dazzled by the light.

The entrance chamber was a vast, wide hall running the full width of the opera house, decorated with rich silks and glittering gilded sculpture, huge paintings of great battles and triumphs in thick frames hanging from the walls, and lit by a dozen chandeliers suspended high above the heads of the guests. No fewer than a hundred people crowded the hall, probably more, each arrayed in dazzling finery, the men in dignified jackets and suits, the women in all manner of dresses, some elaborately archaic, some daringly modern, all exquisitely made. The murmur of dozens of conversations was overlaid by music from a quartet on a small stage between two of the ornate doors leading further into the building.

"I was just guessing," Willow admitted with a grin. Lissa excused herself to pick up a program and directions to their seats for when the performance was called, and vanished into the crowd after a brief word to the doorman. Tara held out an arm, which Willow took, and they made their way slowly into the crowd, picking up their pace when they spotted Tryptin waving them over.

"Hello again ladies," he said, "I had a word with the doorman and he agreed you should be in the party meeting the Duke, seeing as you weren't with us when we arrived from the caravan. Technically you're the one in line for the meeting," he said to Tara, "but seeing as Miss Willow is your companion you can present her as well."

"Really?" Willow asked. "I don't think I was actually going to see the Duke originally, I'm just a student mage after all."

"Here's your chance," Tryptin grinned, "the Duke doesn't deal directly with the running of his Palace the way the Baron did at Kingsport, but I imagine he'll have been notified that you're studying with his mage, and probably your name would have come up while he was being briefed on the trouble to the south. I've found it never hurts to put a face to a name."

"Even a happily-married man won't forget your face in a hurry," Tara put in, smiling as Willow blushed. "How should I introduce us?" she asked Tryptin. "Um, our relationship, I mean…"

"'Companion' or 'partner'," Tryptin suggested, "the Duke's reputation is for broad-mindedness so long as it doesn't cause any harm to his realm. See there?" He pointed through the crowd, and Willow and Tara glanced at the man he was indicating, a tall, bearded man in robes much like Solaris and his crew had worn, only very much more expensive. Another man, fairer-skinned but similarly dressed, was by his side, and there were definite suggestions of intimacy in the way the pair stood close and spoke quietly to each other.

"Several traders from Aranoch have settled here and become very wealthy, and relations between men aren't uncommon there. Few people here speak out against it. As for women, the Duchess's niece, something of an adventuress I'm told, is reputed to pursue the more beautiful of the daughters of the nobility on the occasions she's in the city, and I don't believe there's ever been any strong complaint on that score."

"It's my job," he shrugged. "When the Amazon Nation chooses its allies, it looks to the nature of people first, and their strength of arms second. A small, reliable ally is far more valuable than a powerful one who dislikes our ways. I must say I'm pleased with what I'm finding here, a stable alliance with Westmarch could be a great benefit to us."

"How are the negotiations going?" Tara asked. "I have kind of been out of the loop, what with one thing or another."

"You'll be in line for a promotion when you get home," Tara observed, "on your first mission too."

"Well, I don't know if I'd go that far," Tryptin said with a bashful smile, "but definitely I've got nothing to complain about. I'll let you know if we decide to travel, of course, and you're welcome to come along – probably nowhere more than five days each way from the city. But I don't expect any of the lords we meet will be expecting a warrior, so if you'd rather stay here…?"

"She'll have been told you'll meet the Duke then," Tryptin nodded, "I imagine she'll be along to collect you for the line in a moment."

"Hey," Willow murmured, as Tryptin was momentarily distracted by a conversation going on beside them.

"I love you," Tara smiled, "and you are without a doubt the most beautiful woman here. Or anywhere," she added with a wink. Willow gave her a dazzling smile, but before they could talk more the quartet played a loud fanfare and the crowd fell relatively silent.

"This way Miss," Lissa said quietly, appearing behind Willow and Tara as if by magic. "Miss Willow, you should stand on Miss Tara's right side, half a step back, and come forward when she introduces you. Miss Tara, you just stand in line with the others." She led them towards the main doors, where a small queue of notable guests was assembling, with attendants fussing around them like tugboats.

"Do I curtsey, or what?" Willow asked in a whisper, as the level of conversation in the hall dropped.

"You can both bow," Lissa whispered, "just a little, not a low bow. Shake the Duke's hand if he offers – some of the ladies might kiss his hand, but you needn't, being a warrior and a mage. The Duchess will be with the Duke, the same applies to her."

"Thanks," Tara whispered as they reached their place in the line, and Lissa stepped back among the other attendants. There was a moment's pause, as everyone stood still, expectantly, then a pair of Palace guards came through the doors and took station on either side of them, resplendent in polished breastplates, with colored sashes and feathered crests on their helmets. The line of nobility drew to attention as a group approached the door, then a cheer rose as the Duke stepped into the light of the hall, lifted a hand, and waved.

He was a tall middle-aged man, with a slight spread about his midsection but, for his age and station, a fairly lean figure, certainly no indication that he had left his active lifestyle behind in his youth. His hair, just beginning to turn gray, was closely-cut, and the hairline had begun to recede just enough to reveal a faint scar just above his left temple. His expression was cheerful, the man obviously looking forward to nothing more pressing than a night of entertainment, but there was still the suggestion of a keen intelligence beneath the jovial smile. He wore an immaculately tailored suit, with a sash over his chest bearing his coat of arms and a series of small bronze medallions. At his waist was a sword, its sheath and grip muted brown, unobtrusive among all the finery, yet to Tara's eyes a serviceable weapon, rather than purely ceremonial.

At his side, the Duchess was almost taller than her husband, with long blond hair left loose over her shoulders, clad in a dress not unlike Willow's, though sky blue, and with a more conservative cut, especially the back. She was not much younger than the Duke, but she had aged very well, and Tara had no trouble imagining the patriotic young men of the city admiring her for more than her character. Her figure was fit and elegant, and when she and her husband stepped forward to the first of the guests they would be greeting, she moved with considerable grace.

Seeing it would take a moment or two for the couple to make their way along the line to her, Tara glanced back to offer Willow a smile, catching her hand, then studied the Duke's entourage briefly. Behind the Duke, just to one side, was a man in an unassuming gray suit whose eyes never stopped moving, flickering across the faces of everyone nearby. 'Bodyguard, certainly,' Tara thought to herself. There was nothing remarkable about the man, but he had a certain air about him that Tara recognized from being around the veteran warriors at home, the sense that whatever was going on around him, he was aware of all of it, and would never be caught by surprise. There was also a servant by the Duke's side, quietly informing him who he was meeting when necessary, and a pair of guards behind the group.

On the other side, trailing behind the Duchess, was a younger woman who Tara immediately picked as the niece Tryptin had mentioned. The family resemblance between the two was obvious, despite perhaps twenty years separating them, but where the Duchess's beauty was refined, elegant and courtly, those same features were arranged slightly differently on her niece, giving her an impulsive, openly seductive look that, judging by her demeanor and wardrobe, she didn't regret one bit. Her attire was strikingly different from any other in the hall – she wore tight leather pants with boots rising half-way up her shins, and a loose red shirt with the top few buttons provocatively undone, displaying an admirable cleavage which she was obviously and justifiably proud of. Her hair was unbound, like her aunt's, though less immaculately straight, a little more untidy, which actually suited her well. Tryptin's description of her, 'an adventuress', was well-earned, at least on first impressions.

"I'm getting ideas all right," came Willow's quiet reply, "first clothes shop I see, I'm buying you a pair of those trousers." Tara chuckled softly, though at the same time she was very touched that Willow's first thought was of her, even in the face of such a brazenly attractive woman.

"Lady Tara, Amazon," the Duke's servant murmured, just on the edge of Tara's hearing range, and the man himself met her gaze and extended a hand to her. Tara took it, bowing gently at the same time.

"Well met sir," Tara replied, turning side-on to allow Willow to come forward. "My partner, Willow of the Zann Esu." The Duke nodded as if in recognition, evidently remembering hearing of her in one of his briefings, and held out his hand.

"My wife, Lady Marindi," the Duke said after Willow had bowed and shook his hand. He stepped aside to make way for his wife, who curtseyed regally to Willow and Tara's bows. That done, the royal couple moved on to the next guest.

"I'm spoken for," Tara said politely, with the easy-going smile on the woman's face comforting her that the situation wasn't going to turn uncomfortable.

"Damn," she said without rancor. She gave Willow a glance, and raised an eyebrow. "Damn on both counts. Ah well, enjoy the night, I'm sure you will." With a knowing smile she drifted away after the Duke and Duchess. Tara let out a breath and turned back to Willow, who was blushing and grinning at once.

"When you say 'my partner', or 'I'm spoken for'," she replied, "I get all…do you think a quick kiss is okay?"

"I doubt anyone would mind," Tara said, stepping closer to Willow, "particularly with Miss Wild over there hitting on everyone in sight." She shared a brief, fairly chaste kiss with Willow, and was afterwards unable to banish the grin from her face, at how exciting a brief, chaste kiss could be.

"Well, to be fair," Willow said, looking over Tara's shoulder, "she's not hitting on everyone…she's being quite discriminating, actually, though admittedly incredibly forward. Hey," she grinned, "it's nice to know we're hot enough for royalty, huh?"

A few moments later, once the Duke had seen all the guests who were there to be seen, the opera house's staff rang small hand bells, signaling the opening of the opera hall for the evening's performance. The majority of the guests crowded their way through the several main doors leading to the stalls, but Lissa led Willow and Tara to the far end of the entrance hall, up a stairway to a corridor leading to the private boxes on that side of the building. From their vantage point half-way along the opera hall's left wall, the box angled towards the front, they had an excellent view of the stage and quite a lot of the hall besides, which was filling rapidly as people took their seats. The décor was, if anything, even more extravagant than the entrance hall, with the gilded columns and decorated wall panels overshadowed by a marvelously detailed relief on the ceiling, depicting gods and angels, the entire panoply of heaven, with a huge circular fixture in the center of the ceiling studded with mirrored decorations, representing the Crystal Arch, supporting a massive chandelier lit with hundreds of thick candles.

Visible on the opposite wall, and presumably mirrored directly above Willow and Tara's box, more expansive galleries hosted entire parties of guests, but the lower level's boxes were quite compact, cozy even, and there were only two seats. These, though, were nearly adequate for two people each, to accommodate all manner of expansive dresses if necessary, and when Willow discovered that the armrests between the seats could be lifted up and out of the way she insisted that Lissa take her seat, rather than stand at the back of the box. With the armrest out of the way there was still enough room for Lissa to set the program on the seat between herself and Willow, who nestled comfortably up beside Tara with an arm around her waist.

Once everyone was seated and the house staff had turned down the oil lamps, leaving the chandelier and stage lamps the only source of light, a man walked to the center of the stage and gave a speech, introducing himself as the master of ceremonies, and the conductor in the orchestra pit before the stage, who stood and bowed on cue, and briefly wished the Duke and Duchess well on their anniversary, wished goodwill to the other guests as well, and promised no effort had been spared on the night's performance. With a bow to acknowledge the polite round of applause, he left the stage, and the great scarlet curtain shuddered and lifted.

The stage was decorated with shimmering curtains of white silk, framing a choir of women in plain white dresses, with silver thread wound into their hair that glittered as they sang. Their song was as ethereal and dazzling as their garb and surroundings, a soaring sequence of verses in old Imperial, first only a few voices, then more with each verse, until the whole choir was singing as one, almost a single voice. The applause when at last they reached a crescendo and the curtain dropped was sustained and enthusiastic.

"Traditional prelude from Khanduras," Willow noted, reading the program, "representing the creation of the world of the stage, as a pale mirror of the true creation of all things. I've heard of that," she added, closing the program, "there's a denomination of the Zakarum church in Khanduras who believe the Power That Is sang the world into being, and as each lesser power was created it joined the song."

When next the curtain lifted the silken clouds were gone, replaced by an amphitheatre of stone columns and blocks, painted so well they looked real, though they must have been wood. For the first time the orchestra struck up, drums dominating the melody, with strings supporting them. A troupe of black-skinned dancers dressed in tight, brightly-colored fabrics wrapped around their torsos and trailing behind them appeared, their bodies moving as it powered by the drums, twirling and leaping in time to the rhythm. Two of them broke away from their groups, a bare-chested man in an emerald green loincloth and a woman with long black hair, wearing a single swathe of white cloth, starting around her neck, crossing over her chest, then around and down her back, circling her hips and then trailing loose around her legs as she danced. It wasn't obvious how her clothing was supporting itself, and with the energy with which she danced with her partner, spinning, leaping, stamping her feet and undulating her body, she seemed in constant danger of shedding her meager covering altogether. The man kept his side of the dance equally eye-catching, every motion emphasizing the sculpted shapes of his muscles and the powerful ease with which he moved. The mood they created was entirely appropriate to the music and the troupe's dance, which was primal, fierce, full of unashamed vitality and celebration.

"Quite stimulating, isn't it?" Tara murmured into Willow's ear. "In a tasteful way, of course."

"Mmm, tasteful," Willow whispered. Tara laughed quietly, kissed the top of her head, and went back to watching the dancers on stage.

The next act was another choir, this one mixed men and women, singing a purely musical piece with no lyrics. They appeared in front of the lowered curtain, keeping the audience enthralled with their harmonies. By the end of their song, when they left with a bow and the curtain was raised, the stage had been redressed again, as a jungle temple complete with vines snaking over the stonework, and a dozen unlit candles in brackets on the columns. A single fire bowl was burning in the middle of the stage, casting shuddering shadows over the exotic scene.

A single performer appeared from offstage, and a brief murmur from the audience signaled their interest. She was a cat woman, tall and athletic, with strong, curvy thighs and biceps. Her outfit consisted mainly of leather straps joined by shining gold buckles, winding about her limbs and body, strapped across the generous curves of her four breasts, around her thin waist, and between her legs, covering just enough for decency's sake. Tara glanced back along the boxes on the far wall, and chuckled to herself.

"What?" Willow whispered. Tara pointed up at the gallery where the Duke and his party were sitting, and Willow too stifled a chuckle at seeing the Duchess's niece leaning forward, her attention firmly fixed on the elegant figure on the stage.

"I wonder if the royal party gets to meet the artists after the show," Tara mused.

"Maybe," Willow murmured, "you know, according to the Order libraries, cat tribes tend to have a pretty casual sexual structure. If they decide they like someone, that's all the reason they need…maybe I won't be the only one getting lucky tonight?" She realized with a start that her whisper had become a little louder than she'd intended, and glanced quickly at Lissa, but she seemed absorbed in the program.

"Well, good luck to her," Tara said, as Willow settled back into her arms, "but there's only one sexy lady I'm thinking about." She stroked her fingers up and down Willow's arm lazily.

"Uh-huh," Willow sighed, "and who might that be?" Tara chuckled to herself quietly.

"I think you know perfectly well who she might be," she replied in a whisper, "but I'll give you a clue: she's going to get very, very lucky tonight…not to mention into the small hours of the morning."

They both giggled quietly, then returned their attention to the stage as the cat woman bowed to a round of applause – a warrior's bow, from the waist and martial. She flexed her right hand and the black coil held there unfurled into a long, slender whip that she swung idly back and forth, building up speed in the tip as it circled her body. With her other hand she reached behind herself and from one of the straps around her drew an exotic weapon, like a dagger except that the blade split twice along its length, so that the weapon had three points, each aimed in a different direction, like a lethal star. All the blades were oiled, and glistened darkly.

With a sudden burst of movement she lifted the whip above her head and cracked it twice, in front and behind her, startling the crowd. With their full attention, she flicked her other wrist, sending the multi-bladed weapon spinning flat across the stage, through the flames from the fire bowl. The fire caught the oil on the blades, and then as the burning weapon spun away it pulled up in its flight, curved over and darted back towards its owner, who casually caught it behind her back and flipped it out again, this time towards one of the columns. It skimmed side-on past the column, lighting the candle – which had presumably had its wick soaked in oil from the ease with which it lit – before again curving around in flight behind the column. The moment the candle was lit the woman lashed out her whip, cracking the tip right on the newborn flame, snuffing it out with perfect precision as she caught her flying weapon again.

Within the space of a minute she had similarly lit and extinguished every one of the dozen candles in a similar manner, flinging her blade and whipping each flickering flame back out of existence as it flared. All the while she was swaying and strutting around the stage, and the longer she went on the more complex her motions became, until her skill with her weaponry was being combined with a truly athletic performance as a dancer. To gasps from the audience she backflipped, cartwheeled, spun over in mid air, all the while continuing to catch and release the flying blade, and striking out each flame with perfect timing. Now and then she tossed her whip into the air, freeing both hands as both her weapons flew, performing handstands and somersaults, and once blowing a kiss to the crowd, before reaching out almost casually to catch and strike with her whip, and flick her blade once again on a new arc. Her finale, which drew a chorus of gasps and thunderous applause, was to catch her whip in both hands, stretching it taut above her head, and pluck the spinning blade out of the air with her tail.

Willow and Tara, along with Lissa and most of the rest of the audience, rose to their feet to applaud, and the cat woman smiled broadly, revealing an impressive set of feline teeth, and bowed deeply and graciously. The curtain fell behind her, and she stayed for a moment, acknowledging the applause and gathering a few of the flowers that were tossed onto the stage for her, on either side where the stalls came close enough. A few hopeful admirers tossed flowers towards the center of the stage, but they tended to fall short into the orchestra pit. Willow giggled at seeing a trombone player catch a rose in the horn of his instrument, and pointed him out to Tara.

When the cat woman finally took her last bow and departed, the master of ceremonies announced a brief interval, while the next set was prepared. Lissa departed to bring drinks for Willow and Tara, and at their insistence something for herself, leaving the pair alone in their box. Most of the other guests in the boxes, balconies and the stalls below remained in their seats, though some got up, either to fetch refreshments or simply to stretch their legs.

"Quite a night," Tara mused, cuddling Willow who took the opportunity to stretch her legs out across the seats and lie back against her.

"And it's not over yet," she replied, lazily stroking Tara's arm around her waist.

"It was, wasn't it?" Willow agreed. "I remember reading somewhere that their warriors usually fight with whips, I guess it's no wonder they've gotten good at it. Javelins too, if I recall…I don't think I remember reading anything about flying blades, but you never know. In a lot of places they're not very trusted by humans, so they keep to themselves. There's probably a lot about them no-one knows."

"I've seen weapons like that," Willow said, "not exactly the same, but similar, usually polished wood, carved in a special shape so that they glide, like an eagle's wing. There's tribes up and down the Argentek river that use them in various forms, they can throw them and they glide in a circle. I've never heard of a weapon that can change direction that sharply, though."

"She might have been," Willow said, "I'm sure it was mostly pure skill, but I wouldn't be surprised if there was a little magic involved. A lot of the non-human races have higher proportions of magical ability than humans do. That's one theory, anyway, though it's never been proven."

"Well, it's tricky to measure," Willow explained with a vague wave of her hand, "for a start, cat people are the most human-friendly of the non-human races, and even they're pretty wary of humans in general. As opposed to a one-on-one basis," she added, "with individual people they're sometimes quite forthcoming, but on an official basis they tend to keep their distance. The histories say that a lot of work went into gaining the trust of the Kehjistan tribes before the Order could form proper ties with them, as a society. And aside from that, there's some people who think that a lot of humans, maybe all of us, have some magical ability, but either they never know to try to use it, or it's something that no- one's learned to use yet."

"Could be," Willow said, "I mean, by definition no-one knows, but…well, take magnetics. There's a whole branch of magic that works by interaction with magnetic fields, and before people discovered them and started having a good look at how they worked, no-one knew they could be used for anything but picking up bits of iron."

"Pretty much," Willow agreed, "it's an exciting time to be a mage." She giggled. "I just imagined that being on a recruitment poster. Be a mage! See the world! Set fire to bits of it…Seriously though, I'd bet real money that there's going to be some big breakthroughs in the next few years. Everything's been moving faster since the Reckoning – before that, it was all about the threat of the Prime Evils hanging over our heads, and even if you were a mage dedicated to research and theory, you spent a lot of time working purely with battle magic. Now the Prime Evils are gone, and we know we've got the power to handle it if one of the Lessers, or something else in the demon hierarchy, starts causing trouble…a lot of mages are starting to experiment with other fields, besides just making bigger and better fireballs."

Lissa returned with glasses of wine, which they sipped gently, though it turned out not to be very strong. Soon after the hall was full again, and the master of ceremonies announced the resumption of the performance with a preview of an opera being developed, which he said would begin in full in several weeks' time.

The curtain lifted, and the stage was a desert wasteland, stark and intimidating. The floor was covered in a painted cloth with sand strewn over it, creating a very realistic effect, and above it rose the remains of a temple, huge sandstone blocks and broken statues leaning over in partial ruin. A real stream flowed over one of the blocks, in a channel carved into it, trickling down its slanted side into a pool in the shadow of a great stone jackal's head, the remnant of some colossal statue, lying on its side in the sand. The backdrop was painted with fierce red clouds, as if war was raging in the heavens, and parts of it were slightly transparent, lit from behind by flickering flames that gave the impression of lightning rumbling through the heavy cloudbanks. Broken spears, smashed shields and shattered swords decorated the stage. The orchestra began a slow build, drums and strings quietly coming to life and rising almost imperceptibly, drawing the audience forward on their seats.

Red light flooded from a gap in the fallen stone blocks, silhouetting a figure standing in the doorway they created. He took a single step forward at the same time as hidden lamps in the ruins flared to life, revealing him. The audience gasped in shock, and with good reason. He was tall, broad-shouldered, clad in bronze armor than shone several shades darker than it should have, almost blood-red, decorated with savage patterns and symbols. A cloak flowed around him, black and glistening as if wet, and in one jagged gauntlet he held a great morningstar, with cruel barbs decorating its heavy, angular head. His skin was painted, metallic red to match his armor, and from his brow rose a pair of bone-white horns, the band holding them on concealed by his long, oily black hair. Behind him, mounted on a banner pole on his back, a tattered pennant fluttered in the breeze, scarlet marked with an inverted pentagram that looked as if it had been burned into the fabric, and decorated with dozens of tiny bones sewn into the edges.

Tara felt Willow recoil in shock, and tightened her hold protectively. It lasted only a moment, then she relaxed and glanced at Tara with a sheepish smile.

"Are you okay?" Tara whispered back, as the hellish figure walked slowly to the edge of the stage.

"Yeah," Willow grinned bashfully, "just, I guess once you've seen a pure demon up close…bad memories lurking around, that's all."

"I'm fine," Willow reassured her, "it was just the surprise. And hey, it's a pretty good costume," she added, the lively tone returning to her voice. Tara smiled and gave her a quick kiss.

"You make me feel safe," Willow whispered, gazing into her eyes, then she settled back in her arms and they watched the show.

"He's the Lord of Destruction," Willow explained quietly, as the terrible warrior began to sing in a deep, martial voice, in the Imperial tongue. "They must be doing an opera of the Sin Wars. He's saying how his army has been beaten down by the Horadric mages, but no mortal can defeat him. He's challenging Tal Rasha, the leader of the Horadrim, to fight him."

The Lord of Destruction's aria went on for some time, during which he strode around the ruined temple, shouting defiance and brandishing his morningstar. The effect of his elaborate costume, and the singer's deep, thundering voice filling the hall, accompanied by drums and strings, with horns punctuating his raging, was quite striking. At last he strode to the very front of the stage, bellowing his song into the audience, as if challenging them directly. His presence was so riveting that no-one noticed the second figure at the back of the stage, standing atop the ruins of the temple, until he began to sing, cutting off his adversary's voice in mid-note.

"Tal Rasha?" Tara asked quietly, and Willow nodded. He too was an impressive figure, clothed in gray robes with stark gold patterns on the edges, hood thrown back to reveal strong features and long blond hair, a glimmering white staff in one hand with a golden sunburst head. He sang a short rebuttal to his opponent's defiance, then the curtain fell just as he began to descend from his vantage point, gripping his staff firmly. The audience rose up in appreciation, and the Duke in particular looked notably impressed by the spectacle.

"Yes, in the end," Willow said, "he defeated Baal, but with his dying breath Baal cast a spell to break the Soulstone that was going to imprison his spirit. Tal Rasha used a fragment of the stone to capture Baal momentarily, and drove it into his own chest to imprison Baal's spirit inside himself. He had the other Horadrim magically bind him to a monolith inside one of the great tombs, and then seal it completely. He fought Baal in his soul constantly for centuries, until the Reckoning when the other Prime Evils finally killed him and set Baal free."

"Tal Rasha had fought the campaign against Baal for his whole adult life," Willow said quietly, "he'd seen what the army of destruction did first hand…I guess he thought it was worth it, to put an end to it all."

"I remember you pointing out his statue on the Parliament building," Tara murmured. Willow nodded.

"He's revered as the greatest mage ever," she said. "If ever a person single-handedly saved the world, it was him."

The performance resumed with a troupe of acrobats, flipping and twirling through the air on ropes and trapezes, then another song, and then a short scene from the Akarat play Lissa had mentioned, in which the prophet's brother gave his life to defend him from assassins, while Akarat himself lay in a coma after a battle. Then came a gymnast, a slim woman who, with the aid of a mage standing discretely at the side of the stage, performed a complex dance while tiny sparkling stars trailed from her hands and feet. Finally a full choir performed with the accompaniment of the whole orchestra, in a great swell of music that filled the hall completely, and lifted the whole audience with it as it surged towards its climax.

"They'll clear the seats out of the stalls for a dance now," Lissa said, once the applause had died away and the guests had begun to leave their seats and make their way outside. "It's not a formal part of the evening, so you needn't stay if you'd rather go back to the Palace. Your carriage can be ready in a few moments whenever you decide to leave."

"I think we shall," she replied with a smile, taking the offered arm and following Lissa down to the entrance hall, where they waited for the opera hall to be opened again. Most of the guests returned to the floor, where the Duke and Duchess began the first dance, quickly joined by dozens of other couples. Willow laid her head against Tara's shoulder as they danced slowly, holding each other close.

"Look over there," Tara said, in an amused tone. Willow followed Tara's gaze over her shoulder, to see the Duchess's niece dancing, intimately close, with the cat woman who had performed earlier.

"Heh," she chuckled, "looks like she rarely misses out on something she wants." She looked adoringly at Tara. "Must have been a rare disappointment to her not to sweep you off your feet when she saw you."

"Or you," Tara replied, "I doubt it though. If she's as experienced as Tryptin said, she's probably good at spotting when she hasn't got a chance. I'm a one-woman Amazon…and that one woman is you." She leaned close and tasted Willow's lips in a kiss that lasted a decidedly long time, especially considering they were in the middle of a crowded dance floor.

"Now then," Tara purred as she closed the bedroom door behind herself and Willow, "may I have the pleasure of sliding you out of that gorgeous dress?"

"You don't even have to ask," Willow said giddily, turning in Tara's embrace and kissing her. "Mmm, wow…and not before time either, the longer I see the luscious sexiness that is you in that outfit…I was worried I was going to start drooling in the carriage."

"Don't worry," Tara smiled, kissing Willow again and steering her over to the bed, "I'm sure Lissa didn't notice you vividly imagining tearing my dress off and making love to me right then and there."

"It's what I was imagining," Tara replied, crouching down in front of her and removing her sandals.

"But now we're thinking of making love in a carriage, rather than a wagon," Tara pointed out, "we're moving up in the world." She straightened up and gently kicked off her boots, while Willow slowly stood and reached behind her neck to undo the straps holding her dress up. With a sigh and a delicious wriggle of her hips it slid down around her ankles, leaving Tara staring at her, totally nude.

"Now just remember how I was cuddling up against you all night," Willow teased, "and not wearing anything but a dash of perfume under my dress."

"I had a fairly good idea anyway," Tara murmured, putting her arms around Willow's waist and drawing her close.

"Either that, or you had magic underwear that doesn't show up at all under a skin-tight dress like that…knowing you, I figured it was the former."

"Would I?" Willow asked incredulously. "Goddess baby, I've hardly thought of anything else since I saw you in this dress."

"Not all at once," Tara said as Willow's hands went to work on the laces at the front of her dress, "I've got a treat for you."

"You are a treat for me," Willow chuckled to herself, finishing undoing the laces and sliding her hands over Tara's body as the dress slipped from her shoulders and crumpled to the floor, leaving her clad only in her black bustier and wispy black silk underwear.

"Play me a dance," she purred. Willow grinned and quickly rummaged through her satchels, while Tara picked up the two dresses and laid them out of the way over the top of the chest of drawers. Willow returned with her set of pipes, and Tara sat her down on the bed and stood in front of her.

With a playful grin Willow raised the pipes to her lips and began to play a simple melody, letting Tara ease into the rhythm. She watched entranced as her lover swayed in front of her, gently back and forth like a reed in the ocean. As Willow added more notes, more complexity to her melody, so Tara danced more for her, spinning around, raising her arms above her head, always staying to the rhythm, as if Willow were playing her like a snake-charmer.

Fixing her with a seductive stare, still swaying to the music, Tara began undoing the laces on her bustier, letting it fall looser and looser until it opened and her breasts spilled lavishly out of their confinement. She pulled the last laces free and let the bustier fall behind her, and Willow began to find it difficult to concentrate hard enough to play the pipes, watching Tara sway back and forth, running her hands up and down her front, cupping her breasts and letting them fall free.

Rallying her scattered thoughts, Willow began to change her melody, playing a stronger, faster rhythm, remembering the dancers they had seen earlier. Tara recognized the music too, and began working in the same kinds of moves they had used, fast twirls, stamping her feet for emphasis, making her whole body shudder. Willow's breathing became erratic, and she absently dropped the pipes, but still Tara danced, her motions providing all the rhythm either of them needed to hear the drums thundering in their minds. Willow's hands flattened against her thighs, fingers pressing into her skin, as she unconsciously shifted to the edge of the bed, spreading her legs for balance. Tara came closer, dancing right in front of her, inches away from her wide, lustful eyes. Her motions suggested a rising crescendo, coming faster, more frantic, and Willow found herself caught up in it, breathing quickly, desperate to see the final moment of the dance. In one quick motion Tara leaned down between Willow's spread thighs and pressed her tongue firmly against her sex, licking up over her clit, her mound, her stomach as she fell back on the bed in delight, her cleavage, up her neck and beneath her chin. Quick as a flash she was straddling Willow, and then they were still, motionless and breathless, Willow lying back, Tara above her, less than an inch separating their faces, Tara's heaving breaths teasing Willow's lips.

Tara blinked lazily as she woke up, then moaned at the wonderful sensation emanating from her breasts. With some effort, she managed to open her eyes all the way, and glanced down to see Willow nibbling on her left nipple, while her hand kept the other from feeling left out.

"Mmmmorning," Tara managed, "a-are you…trying to give me…sexy dreams… again…?"

"Maybe," Willow admitted with a smile, moving slightly to settle her head on Tara's shoulder, as her free hand took the place of her lips. "Did it work?"

"Oh, baby," Tara sighed, "like you wouldn't believe." Willow's smile broadened with pride.

"You were sleeping so soundly," she said, "I thought, given you'd have to wake up anyway, you'd appreciate it being something worth waking up for."

"You don't have to do anything to be worth waking up for," Tara said fondly, "but, seeing as you did…that feels soooo beautiful…"

"Your dance must've tired you out," Willow quipped, "but hey, no complaints here, you're amazing. Did you ever do any of those Amazon ritual dances?"

"Not formally," Tara murmured, as Willow continued to gently stroke her breasts, teasing the nipples, "but…ah…some of the trainees…used to arrange performances in their free time…just for fun…I sometimes joined in…it turned out not to…mmm…be so difficult…a lot like practicing with a spear…just learning the motions…"

"Nah," Tara shook her head, "I think I've found my preferred style of dance… intimate performances, for an audience of one. That way I can go into the second half of my act."

"Best dance I've ever had," Willow laughed. "Oh, there's a letter for you from the army, the seal says it's from the training office."

"Just a formality," Tara said, "the General said he'd get it to me in writing, but he already told me what days I'd be instructing the archers. You've been up and about already?"

"Like I said, you were sleeping pretty soundly. I got the mail, and breakfast." Tara glanced over to the table, where a covered platter was waiting.

"I do my best," Willow murmured, leaning down to teasingly lick at Tara's cleavage.

"Couldn't possibly be better," Tara sighed. "Anything else you got done while I was being a lazy Amazon?"

"Our dresses are headed down to the laundry," Willow said, "and I got a couple of replies to the letters I sent out. One from a mage's apprentice saying his mistress is traveling, but she'll be in touch when she gets back in a few weeks. The other from a mage with a workshop down near the river, saying to drop by some afternoon to get acquainted and see what we can work out. Actually I remember the letter that went to him, it was from Ember herself, rather than a formal one from the Order."

"An old friend of hers?" Tara wondered, stroking her hand up and down Willow's back.

"Probably," Willow agreed, wriggling enticingly, "if nothing urgent comes up today with Myrreon, I thought I'd go see him tomorrow afternoon."

"I've got instructing duties today and tomorrow," Tara said, "do you think you could manage a day off after that?"

"Nothing yet," Tara replied lightly, "maybe we could visit Amalee, do some shopping…it's a big city, I'm sure there's more than enough to do. And of course," she grinned seductively, "there's a certain appeal to being able to stay in bed all morning."

"There is at that," Willow nodded. "Speaking of which, we should probably be getting up right about now, but then again I'm kind of leading somewhere with all this," she licked Tara's cleavage again, and gave her breasts a squeeze. "Do you think you and your luscious breasts might join me in the shower?" Tara laughed loudly, which in turn caused her to shudder in Willow's grip.

Tara watched a volley of arrows fly, and mostly hit near the bull's-eyes they were aimed at. None missed the targets completely, which was unsurprising. General Murine had told her, both in his letter and then when Tara had arrived at the barracks, that she would be working with trained archers initially. Depending on how she did, the General would either add her to the roster of instructors who worked with new recruits, or, if she proved able to improve the abilities of trained men, keep her with the soldiers, and perhaps see if she could pass on some of her skills to the army's own archery instructors at the same time.

Her first session seemed to be going well. She had been hesitant at first, especially on seeing her 'students', three dozen soldiers who according to the General had already completed a six month tour of duty. Her worries about whether they would even listen to her were quickly put to rest by Sergeant Sheerson, a lean tower of a man who informed the troops, in a booming voice, that they would not show the slightest disrespect to Lady Tara, that they would do exactly as she told them, and that they would treat every word she said as if it had come from the Power That Is herself. That got her through the introductory stages without any difficulties, and once the soldiers saw her demonstrate her abilities, she was confident that they respected her, archer to archer.

As for being able to teach them anything, as the morning session wore on Tara was more confident about achieving good results. To a man they were good archers, with steady aim and good arms. Tara found that this actually helped her – when she explained and demonstrated Amazon techniques, they were able to understand quickly, and their training allowed them to put what they learned into practice, and see the results. The General watched the first hour of the session from the side of the range, then departed to attend to other business after giving Tara an encouraging nod.

She called a halt and told the men to retrieve their arrows and line up for another round. They were working on snap shots – firing accurately without preparation time – which was a skill that she felt the Duncraig instructors had undervalued somewhat. It was natural, she supposed, to concentrate on accuracy at range, given that the most likely battleground in Westmarch was an open plain, rather than the dense jungles of the Amazon Isles. The soldiers, however, had seen battle to varying degrees, and had learned the hard way that nothing in battle goes to plan. Some of them had already taken it upon themselves to practice drawing and firing in one motion, and all of them were eager to learn more.

Tara stood at the practice line and fired with the soldiers, doing exactly as she had taught them – facing sideways, bow held down, arrow in hand, opening her eyes, turning and nocking her arrow as she lifted the bow, letting the string loose the moment the arrow was pointed towards the target. She had felt awkward when she had first been taught the technique, so she had worked extra hard on it, and it paid off – by the time she was fifteen she had been able to bull's-eye a target the moment her eye fell on it. The soldiers had a lot to learn, but showed promise, and they were slowing slightly to get used to the action, rather than trying to match her speed and making mistakes in the process. Solari had always taught the same thing: 'Don't try to do it perfectly first time. Just try to do it okay, and work from there.'

After each man had fired ten arrows at his target Tara called a halt, and once the arrows had been collected she dismissed them for lunch. She felt a sense of accomplishment when she noticed how many of them spared her a wave or a word of thanks before they headed back to the armory to stow their weapons. 'This might work after all,' she smiled to herself.

For her own part, she was looking forward to lunch for more than the chance of a cool drink and something to fill her stomach. Before Tara had left their room for the barracks, Willow had asked if she got time off for lunch, and when Tara said she did, asked her to be at the gate to the Palace gardens at midday. Seeing the anticipatory grin on Willow's face, she didn't ask why – curiosity had plagued her during the short walk to the barracks, but the instructing had kept her mind busy, and besides, she knew it would be a good surprise. The gardens, on the northwest side of the Palace, were only a couple of blocks from the barracks, and Tara covered the distance quickly.

Willow was standing by the gates – huge old wooden doors, and a portcullis that looked like it hadn't been used in some time – and gave Tara a gleeful wave when she spied her across the street. Tara gave an answering wave and quickly crossed. Willow jogged forward a few steps to meet her, draping one arm around her waist and leaning in to kiss her. In her other hand she was holding a basket covered by a cloth, which Tara looked at, then raised a questioning eyebrow at Willow as they parted.

"Patience?" Tara teased. "This from the same Willow who gets over-excited at the tiniest little things?"

"For the record," Willow said mock-haughtily, "you've never seen me over-excited, the reason being, I'm with you, and you're worth all the excitement I can muster. Thanks," she said to the lone Palace guard standing at the gates, who nodded to allow them to pass.

"I will grant you," Willow went on, linking arms with Tara as the walked through the stone archway, "I get more visibly excited than most people. But I'm not most people, am I?"

"No you're not," Tara agreed, lifting Willow's hand to her lips, "you're my Willow." She gave her palm a gentle kiss. "And I love you, just the way you are."

"I love you too," Willow said warmly, "even more than I love being your Willow – and you know, I love being your Willow a lot."

Willow led Tara into the gardens, a sculpted piece of nature in the heart of the city. Tara knew the land extended right up to the river to the north, though she couldn't see that far – the road from the gate curved away in the other direction, towards the Palace, and apart from that there were lush green trees and bushes as far as she could see, with gravel paths lined with painted rocks winding their way in and out. Birdsong was in the air, the sounds of the city were quite muffled by the high stone wall – it was tranquil and inviting as paradise, and reminded Tara of home, of the green lands down by the lake, where she imagined herself and Willow living one day.

Willow led them down one of the paths, past exotic flowers, and beneath the shade of leafy trees stretching their boughs over little lawns of soft, verdant grass. They came to an avenue through the small forest, wide enough for a small coach, lined on either side with ornate oil lamps, statues dotted here and there, and twin rows of bushes that were blooming with hundreds of tiny white flowers.

"It's just up ahead," Willow said mysteriously. Tara had already guessed, just from her choice of setting, that Willow had planned a picnic, but held her tongue, looking forward to seeing just what she had prepared, and the spot she had chosen. They followed the avenue some way, then Willow took a turn off to the other side, leading Tara along a narrow path between shrubs and bushes, with venerable old trees stretching their branches high above.

"Here," Willow said, letting Tara walk in front of her. She emerged from between two tall bushes into a tiny clearing, outlined by the trunks of some low trees, their branches intertwining to filter the sunlight from above into a soft pattern of light and shade. The grass was tall and soft, dotted with tiny flowers, blooms of rich red and gold and white and sky blue all over. A blanket had been laid out, with cushions spread at its edge, and at the center a wood-covered metal ice bucket, with a bottle of wine, and two crystal glasses next to it. An unassuming statue of a woman in a robe stood just at the edge of the bushes, holding a dish, a bird-bath, kept full of water by a tiny brass spout bubbling merrily to itself. The trees enclosed the clearing on three sides – on the far side from Tara was the shore to a sparkling lake, with ducks paddling about, and not far off a little island, covered in long grass, reeds where it met the lake, and a pair of trees in the center, short with wide branches.

"You like?" Willow said with a radiant smile, taking her arm again and leading her to the cushions, where they both say down.

"Nothing's too good for my Tara," Willow said with a shy smile, setting the basket and her satchel down on the blanket. She reached for the wine and poured some into both glasses, handing one to Tara.

"It's light spring wine," she said, "just a couple of glasses won't affect your aim at all, so don't worry about this afternoon."

"You think of everything," Tara smiled. She settled back on her cushions and looked at Willow, who was smiling fondly at her.

"You know," Willow said, keeping her gaze, "it's been twenty-five days now since we met. Which isn't really a set moment that you'd normally celebrate, but hey, why not… In the past twenty-five days I've had a demon nearly summoned right in front of me by a psychotic mage, I've had Carvers attack me, I've found out that same demon has a massive grudge against me, I've come this close to being captured by yet another psychotic mage, I've had the wits frightened out of me by something going 'bump' in the night, I've walked across miles of wilderness with all sorts of nasty things chasing me, and I've been surrounded by a whole clan of goat-men and fought their truly massive leader – but you know what?" She settled back, still staring into Tara's gaze. "They've been the best twenty-five days of my life, and I wouldn't swap them for anything."

"Me neither," Tara said, "and in my case, you can add 'got shot at' and 'got clawed by a zombie' to that list." She was pleased that Willow laughed – the bad memories were only memories. "There's nowhere I wouldn't go with you," she went on, "nothing I wouldn't face to stay with you. I love you…I love the person I've become by being in love with you." Willow's expression was pure joy.

"Twenty-five days," she said in a voice thick with emotion. She raised her glass. "To many more."

"A lifetime's worth," Tara agreed, touching her glass to Willow's before taking a mouthful.

"Yeah," Willow said, setting her glass down carefully before leaning over to kiss Tara, slowly and thoroughly. Tara struggled just to keep from dropping her glass, overcome by the intense sensations of Willow's mouth on hers, her tongue touching her lips, gently moving inside, the taste of her, and the wine on her lips, the soft press of Willow's hands as she drew her into an embrace, the jolt of desire that rocked through her as Willow's leg nudged up against hers.

"Here," Willow whispered, taking Tara's glass, "let me get that for you." Never moving from Tara's side, she drained what was left in her glass, then kissed her again, sealing their lips together. Tara tasted the wine, and licked eagerly at Willow's tongue, moaning into her mouth as the sweet liquid flowed between them.

Without consciously realizing it, Tara found her right hand had worked the waist of Willow's skirt down to caress her hip; her other hand had pulled free the hem of her tunic and slipped beneath it, against Willow's back; Willow's hand was on her thigh, beneath her short leather skirt. Smiling devilishly as Willow paused in her kissing, she pulled her astride her thigh.

"Never," Tara murmured, "anytime I'm around you – especially when you do something this beautifully loving – you know it just makes me want you like nothing else." Willow grinned and pressed kisses onto Tara's neck and shoulder.

"Mmm, lovely," Tara sighed, "see? Completely robbed of…common sense…rational thinking…just want to love you…"

"I hope you're not expecting me curb your amorous tendencies," Willow warned, "because from where I'm lying, I don't see a problem." She worked her way back up to brush her lips across Tara's, her tongue sneaking out to lick at her moist lips, and slowly thrust her hips against Tara's leg, her thigh slipping between Tara's at the same time.

"Nope, no problem at all," she whispered, as Tara's hands tugged gently on her skirt, finding the tie at her waist and undoing it. As Tara slid the material off her, Willow kissed her way back down her neck to nuzzle in her cleavage, while her hand not around Tara holding her tightly lifted her skirt up around her waist. There was a brief pause while both women wriggled out of their underwear, then Willow lay down against Tara, each feeling the other's moist warmth on her bare thigh.

"Ooooh," they moaned simultaneously. Neither could resist a small giggle at that, then Tara's hand around Willow's waist urged her to press forward, while her other hand wound into her hair and brought her to her lips to taste her again. Willow moaned openly into the kiss, allowing Tara complete access to her, the elation of her lover's exploration of her mouth joining the building desire emanating from her core as they began a rhythm of pressing and moving against one another.

"Mmm," Tara murmured into Willow's ear, "feel that…on your skin…wet…just like I can feel you, baby…" Her breathing, and Willow's, was becoming rougher, more desperate, as their rocking motions pressed their clits and glistening folds against each other's thighs.

"Oh god-dess ye-es," Willow whispered in a halting voice, "yes…oh yesss…feel… me…"

"I…ahhh…can," Tara purred, "I can…feel…y-you…a-as if it…it were me… goddess…come…"

"Mmmm!" Willow bit her lip to keep from crying out, instead giving voice to a high- pitched moan of ecstasy as her sex clenched and gushed her delight. Tara was close, so close that the mere feeling of Willow's juices gracing her skin sparked the quaking climax building inside her. She held Willow to her, one arm around her shoulders, the other her hips, holding them against her own, keeping their sexes tightly pressed against skin that now glowed with the other's arousal. Every shudder, every sigh as they recovered from climax was passed through touch to the other, sharing everything.

"Just…gods," Willow murmured, nuzzling against Tara's neck, "you're so, so… beautiful doesn't even begin to cover it. You're more than beauty, you…you make beauty, you create it…you bring it into my world."

"I could never doubt that," Willow smiled, "never, never ever. I love you, my sweet," she kissed Tara on the lips, "beautiful," and again, "sexy," again, "lovely Tara." With one last kiss, gently opening Tara's mouth and dipping in with her tongue, she finally slid off her thigh and lay beside her, gazing at her in complete adoration.

"So," she grinned after a moment in which they simply enjoyed the sight of each other, "thinking of this all day, huh?"

"Uh-huh," Tara said with a smile, "well, asking me to meet you at the Palace garden sort of put the idea of a picnic in my head. And, well," she admitted with an adorable blush, "then I might have imagined a brief, um, interlude in the privacy of the bushes."

"Well that just shows how well you know me," Willow laughed, "besides, it's been at least four hours since we made love in the shower, that's plenty of time for me to build up a new appetite for you. Actually," she grinned sheepishly, "four seconds would do fine as well."

"You're not the only one," Tara said with an answering grin. They shared a chuckle, then Willow sat up and reached for her basket.

"Oh, plenty – um, bread, cheese, there's a salad in that bowl, some fruit, there's a flask of juice somewhere, oh, and look!" she finished, fishing a stem out of the basket.

"Fresh cherries," Willow nodded, picking one off its stem and holding it out to Tara, who devoured it right out of her fingers.

"They're not pearl cherries, so they've got seeds," Willow added. "I definitely owe Jesye some thanks, I asked her where a nice spot in the gardens might be and she told me about this little hideaway, and then she just showed up at Myrreon's workshop just before lunch with the basket from the kitchens."

"Wow," Tara mused, "that's impressive. I hope someone on the Duke's staff asks about our attendants sometime, I'd really like to give them a glowing report."

"Me too," Willow agreed. "I think Jesye might have had a bit of an ulterior motive though, I get the impression she might just have a teensy crush on Zan."

"Just a hunch. I mean, she's always nice, but she seems even more…I don't know, lively? I noticed her looking a bit more, I'm not sure how to put it – she smiles a bit wider, her face sort of lights up. I guess, next time we meet somewhere, watch me when I see you, I bet it's just the same." Tara blew her a kiss, which she returned.

"Anyway," she went on, "I thought I noticed her brighten when he answered the door yesterday, and she was definitely sneaking a glance at him now and then today. Not that I doubt she was glad to give me a hand preparing this little surprise for you, she was just as enthusiastic after we left the tower, but," she smiled, "I bet having an excuse to go up there seemed like a nice bonus."

"You might be right," Tara said, "I was kind of too nervous yesterday to be really paying much attention to how she was acting. But, you remember you told me Lissa had been assigned to Myrreon's rooms once? Maybe Jesye was too. I mean, they're friends, maybe they worked the same shifts, or something…"

"…and Jesye developed a liking for the mysterious, handsome mage's assistant," Willow concluded, "yeah, I can see that."

"Not on purpose," Willow said, "but…well, I think he's very deep. Lots of layers, and he seems like he might be a very private person too. Combined with the exotic looks, yeah, I guess there's a bit of mystery to him. He's very friendly, though. We get along well."

"I'm not sure exactly," Willow admitted, "I asked him, but he didn't want to go into it, so I didn't press. Somewhere in the far east. Way beyond the lands the Order has reliable information on, anyway. Like I said he's private – he was very polite about it, but I could see he didn't really want to talk about it. Maybe they're not happy memories – there's some scary rumors about that part of the world."

"He seems to be," Willow said, opening the salad bowl and placing it between them. "Myrreon's very complimentary about his abilities, and he seems to enjoy assisting – Myrreon gives him a lot of responsibility, it's not just carrying books and beakers around. He's got a very precise mind, very methodical, analytical – I think he liked the challenge that Myrreon's projects give him."

"No idea," Willow shrugged, "we're friendly, but I get the impression he takes a long time to get to know someone. Most of what we've talked about has just been magic, either general stuff, or specific to what we're working on. Maybe, though – he did ask about her, just in passing, how she's doing as our attendant, and he's not the sort to just make casual conversation for no reason. Maybe she's in with a chance there."

"A bit," Willow said, "she's an apprentice, so mostly when Myrreon's talking to me she's keeping an eye on whatever he was doing beforehand. Now she is a mystery…Zan's taught me a few of her signs, so she can 'talk' to me a bit, enough that we can work together well enough for simple stuff. She understands me, of course, just I have to be able to read her signs to understand her."

"Zan says she can't," Willow explained, "not human speech, anyway, apparently she's just not capable of forming most of the sounds."

"Sort of," Willow said, "there's a species that live deep in the Aranoch desert called Vipermagi, sort of serpent-men – humanoid upper body, with arms and shoulders and head, but covered with scales and sort of snake-shaped, and from their chest down these long, powerful snake bodies. They're- well, to put it bluntly, they're evil. They hate all other creatures…this isn't just second-hand sources, you understand, Ember's told me about them herself, and she's really not the kind to hold onto old prejudices. So far as I know – and I've read a lot of what the Order has about human-like species – they're the only serpentine race there is, aside from your basic snakes."

"No, she's not," Willow agreed, "for one thing, she's got legs, and besides, all the accounts I've read that mention it say that Vipermagi are asexual, they all appear male by our standards, except they can reproduce with each other – they lay eggs – whereas Ocean's definitely a woman, they way humans would see it…I didn't want to pry, particularly seeing as I don't know her well enough myself, and would've had to ask Zan. I mean, where she comes from isn't a problem – Zan obviously thinks she's no danger at all, Myrreon sort of treats her like a daughter, and she seems to look up to him kind of like a father. She's the gentlest person, as well. Just from being around her a little, I can't imagine her ever wanting to hurt anyone, or be cruel. She reminds me of you, in that respect."

"But yeah, she's a bit of a mystery. Unless she's the product of some very powerful mage doing something really insane with humans and snakes, I'd guess she's half Vipermagus. That can happen sometimes with some of the human-like races, cats in particular, there's some accounts of cat-people mating with humans…well, mating in the physical sense they do all the time, apparently, but there's reliable sources saying that there have been half-cat half-human children born to cat and human parents. I've never heard of a half-Vipermagus though, there's no reference to any ever having been born in anything I've read, and all things being equal I'd have guessed that humans and Vipermagi were incompatible, on a child-bearing level. And yet," she waved a hand vaguely, "there she is. Where it counts she's about as unlike a Vipermagus as you could imagine, but that'd be my best guess. She's even got their skill at astronomy."

"Yeah, Myrreon says she's brilliant with it, she actually helped redesign some parts of it. And Vipermagi are famous – infamous, actually – for sky magic. Ember told me that during the Reckoning, when things looked bad for Lut Gholein, and the Vipermagi thought they'd have all of Aranoch to themselves, they actually brought on an eclipse that lasted for twenty days before their temple was found and the spell was broken."

"I'm sure Ocean's a good person, though," Willow went on, "she's just…well, I guess she's like Zan, she's very private. Mind you, if she was born in Aranoch, they hate Vipermagi there, so it can't have been easy for her. Poor girl…oh, hey, though, you'll love this, speaking of the orrery-" She leant over and began fishing in her satchel.

"Where is the darned thing? Oh, here, hold this." She handed Tara the disc they had transmuted the day before.

"Yeah…still a mystery. I mean, it's completely magically inert. Odd composition though."

"Oh?" Willow abandoned her quest in her satchel for a moment and picked the disc back out of Tara's hands.

"It's covered by a thin gold layer," she explained, "but underneath that – we did a bunch of equivalence spells to see what it was made of exactly – underneath that there's twenty-seven different alloys, each in a ring that's locked into the alloys next to it. And I mean locked, it's not like they could have been slotted together, there's parts where they have bolts and hooks actually inside the next ring, so they had to be made by magic, or a very very talented craftsman. The precision in it is amazing, but so far as we can tell, it doesn't do anything. There's no sign of wear on the edges, so it wasn't made sharp and blunted over time – Zan still thinks it's a chakram, but it doesn't even fly well. He tried skimming it across the workshop, and just knocked over an empty easel a few meters away. If it weren't for the gold it'd be decorative, in a way – sort of a show-off piece – but as it is, it might just as well be one metal inside it rather than dozens." She shrugged and handed it back to Tara. "We sent a description down to the university library – they've got literally more books than anyone could read in a lifetime-"

"Even me," Willow nodded, "but the mages have always got the librarians looking up something or other, so if they don't know where to look, they just give them the description of whatever it is. Sooner or later, if it's there, it'll turn up. Maybe in some obscure book of party decorations for mages who like metalwork, I don't know."

"Beats me," Willow said, her attention on the contents of her satchel again, "maybe it's a piece of something else, who knows…ah, here it is." She proudly held up a pair of small metal spheres, each an inch across, their polished silver surfaces shining brightly. Willow held the top one, and the other hung a few inches beneath it. Tara peered closer, looking for a strand of silk, a thin wire, but there was nothing.

"Neat, huh?" Willow said, swinging the sphere back and forth – it moved exactly as if it were attached on a string. "It's a test piece for something Myrreon and Ocean are trying to build into the orrery, so it won't have to have to many moving parts. Apparently it's still prone to throwing a gear late at night now and then."

"It's one of those simple/complicated things – easy to do, but you need a particular sort of genius to think it up in the first place. What you do is, you make two spheres, or whatever, it doesn't matter what they are so long as they're as close to identical as you can get. These are just a silver-tin mix. Now, everything has energy – people have so much energy they're practically bursting with it, living energy, souls, magic – but everything, even something as simple as this, has energy, even if it's just the energy that makes it exist."

"Uh-huh," Tara said, gently prodding the lower sphere, watching it swing on its invisible tether.

"What Myrreon's done is to swap some of the energy from one sphere to the other, and vice versa. It works because they're almost identical – the differences are minute, the kind of imperfections that even magical forging can't entirely get rid of. But that means their energies are very, very close to being identical. If you tried to swap two different things, it wouldn't work, because the energy from one wouldn't, well, 'fit' in the other. But this works, and the result is, they're permanently 'paired'."

"Well, that's more of a side-effect, this is the distance apart the spheres were when the experiment was done, so they sort of default back to that. You can separate them, though." She caught the other sphere and gently tugged them apart. "The real benefit is… well, here, hold this."

Tara took the sphere that Willow offered and held it in her palm. Willow meanwhile leant over and touched the other sphere to the ice slowly melting in the wine chiller.

"Ah!" Tara exclaimed, almost dropping her sphere. She relaxed, and rolled it around in her palm. "It's cold. Not ice cold, but…like a cold breeze."

"I want to ask 'isn't that cool', but I'd never stoop to such a pun," Willow joked, earning a giggle from Tara. "See, because they're paired, they sort of transmit their physical state from one to the other. What you felt wasn't actually the sphere getting cold, although it would after a while, if I left this one in the water and it cooled down. But when I held this sphere close to the ice, an echo of the ice existed around your sphere. So you were sort of feeling an echo of what it would have been like if you hand had been holding my sphere, and seeing as your hand was underneath it, and I was holding mine above the icy water, your hand felt cold."

"It's really just a toy," Willow said, reaching over towards Tara. As she held her sphere over Tara's hand, the other sphere tugged gently towards it, finally seeming to latch on and float up as Willow lifted her hand. "Myrreon's made other versions, paired gears and stuff, to work on eliminating some of the connecting struts in the orrery that keep getting jammed. These are just a test he did, to see if it would work." She shrugged and dropped them back into her satchel. "Zan had an idea for using them to send messages, sort of coded, like smoke signals – touch one sphere to a block of ice and they'd feel it at the other end, something like that – but it didn't work out, the pairing effect starts to fade after they get more than five miles or so apart."

"I promise I'll keep you up-to-date until you get time to visit the workshop again," Willow replied.

"Yay," Tara murmured happily. She happened to glance up at the statue, with its bird-bath.

"Oh! Look." She leaned over beside Willow and pointed. A small bird, small enough to fit in the palm of a hand, was perched on the edge of the dish, taking sips of the water. It was a brilliant scarlet over its wings and head, and pure white underneath. Sensing the attention on it, it glanced up, tilted its head to peer at Willow and Tara with each eye, then went back to dipping its stubby little beak in the water.

"Red Paladin," Willow whispered, "a baby…there must be a nest nearby. Oh, isn't it cute?" Tara smiled, both at the little bird and at Willow's enthusiasm, and gathered her in a hug from behind. They watched for a moment more until the baby Paladin, evidently having had its fill, waddled around to face the other way on the edge of the dish, then quick as a flash flitted into the air and vanished out over the lake.

"They're very tame," Willow said, "out in the wild you don't see them much, 'cause everything else is bigger and stronger, and they're pretty timid, but…it's kind of like nature intended them to live in parks and gardens. The babies are a bit skittish, but the grown ones – they don't really grow that much, they're all tiny, but adult ones have these lovely long tails – they'll come and perch on your finger, they're not afraid of people at all."

"Beautiful," Tara sighed, "everything's beautiful, this is…" she waved a hand vaguely around the clearing, "everything is just beautiful. Thank you Willow, thank you so much, I…"

"You know," Tara said softly, "you don't have to do a thing, not a single thing, for me to love you completely, and yet, you do all this…I feel so, so…like my heart's full of love, you know?"

"Yeah," Willow smiled, leaning back in Tara's embrace, looking up at her, "I know exactly how you feel."

"The Duchess's niece was at the training field this afternoon," Tara mentioned as she and Willow ate dinner in their room that evening.

"Oh?" Willow prompted. "Do I have to go freeze her solid, or did she get the idea last night?"

"No freezing," Tara laughed, "she – Lindia – she was polite, courteous, and nothing more. We just exchanged a few words anyway, she spent most of the time riding up and down along the medium archery range."

"She's a horse archer," Tara said, "a good one. I had a look at some of her arrows after she'd made a run, her accuracy is good – exceptional, when you take into account that she's riding across the firing line at a fast canter."

"Really? I kind of took her for a, you know, a casual adventuress – goes out riding on her own, has a poke around remote areas and ruins, but really doesn't do anything much more difficult than sleep on the hard ground once in a while. They're not uncommon, men too. Ride into town, show off a bit, move on before someone asks you to do something difficult like clear up a nest of Carvers or something."

"Apparently not," Tara shrugged, skewering the last slice of baked potato on her fork, "my Sergeant – well, he's assigned to me while I'm instructing – actually knows her a little from a campaign his unit was part of last winter. According to him she's got a noble commission, brevet-captain, and she spent three months leading some of their best scouts on hit-and-run expeditions when they were scouring the eastern highlands for demonic beasts."

"A real adventuress," Willow mused, "well…I bet that helps catch the attention of the noblewomen."

"Well," Willow said, making a show of considering it, "I guess…so long as she's just looking. Besides, there's no denying you are eminently look-over-able. It's a real word," Willow protested as Tara giggled.

"I seem to remember she thought you were worth a look too," Tara grinned, "on which I happen to agree. A lot more than a look, in fact."

"Agree with her you may," Willow smiled, pushing her empty plate aside, "but you're the only one who gets more than a look. Do you happen to fancy a little more than a look?"

"I said a lot more," Tara replied, standing up and coming around the table, "and yes, as a matter of fact, I do." She faced Willow, giving her her best sultry smile. "Is my Willow amenable to being more than looked at?"

"Your Willow is amenable to anything you please," Willow replied, lightly biting her lower lip and ducking her head to look up at Tara through her lashes. "Looking…or anything else."

"I had an idea this afternoon," Tara leant down to whisper in Willow's ear, "why don't you go get comfortable, and I'll join you." Willow turned her head to steal a quick kiss, then sauntered over towards the bed, glancing over her shoulder now and then. Even as Tara gathered up the plates to put outside the door, Willow could feel her eyes on her. She took her time undressing, making a show of undoing the laces on her tunic, sliding her skirt slowly down her legs, discarding her bra, then sitting down on the soft bedspread, arching her back as she slipped her underwear off. By this time Tara had put out most of the candles, bringing the room's lighting down to its usual comforting night- time glow. While Willow pulled back the covers, slowly slid her legs up onto the bed and stretched out, her eyes never left Tara, who disrobed with more than a little elegant teasing in her motions, and how she chose to tantalizing reveal glimpses of herself before finally shedding her clothes completely.

"These," Tara said, picking up the pair of spheres Willow had left on the mantelpiece when she returned from the afternoon's study, "they're quite safe?"

"Um, yeah, perfectly," Willow said, her brows furrowing in confusion. Tara sauntered over to the bed and knelt down beside it, bringing her face level with Willow's.

"So if I were to touch this one to my lips," she said, holding up a sphere, "and this one," she caught the other, hovering a few inches below the first, "to yours…?"

"I'd…it'd feel like you were kissing me," Willow said, comprehension dawning on her.

"If I were to hold this one…here," she touched one sphere to Willow's hardening nipple, "and this one…?" she slowly brought the other to her lips and kissed it.

"So," Tara breathed, giving the spheres a quick tug apart to separate them, "if I were to…" One hand disappeared down, beneath where the edge of the bed cut off Willow's line of sight. Her eyes went to Tara's, and she watched as she licked her lips, as they parted slightly, as she let out a faint sigh that turned into a smile. She raised her hand again, opening it like a stage illusionist who had made a card disappear by slight of hand, then rose slowly, looking down at Willow as she stood tall, proud and naked. The sphere was nowhere in sight, but Willow, breathing in heavy, aroused sighs, knew exactly where she had put it.

"Now," Tara whispered, elegantly lifting a leg over Willow and settling onto the bed, straddling her, "if we…" She held up the remaining sphere, and even before she had brought it all the way up to Willow's face she darted down and pressed her lips against the smooth metal. Tara let out a startled gasp, as if Willow had truly, intimately kissed her, and Willow was elated to feel on her lips an echo of the warmth and wetness she knew was within Tara.

"Tara?" Willow asked softly, "is it okay-" She was cut off as Tara practically lunged at her, devouring her mouth in a searing, heart-racing kiss. Her lips and tongue moved with such passion, such single-minded desire, that Willow felt as Tara's kisses were all over her, inside and out, caressing every inch of her body.

"Then I guess," Willow said, managing to sound at least a little teasingly nonchalant, "I know what you'd like me to do with this?" She brought her hand to Tara's and took the sphere from it. Tara stared at her hand, then let out a great, sensual sigh and stretched herself out full-length on the bed, her head resting on Willow's chest, her lips tasting her breasts and nipples as she writhed slowly, too aroused even to keep still. Her eyes followed Willow's hand as she lowered it, rolling the sphere down her chest and stomach, her quick, shallow breathing a reflection of the sensations of warmth and silkiness she felt moving down her body.

"Oooh," Tara purred, "smooth…" Willow grinned at her, taking in the length of her body with her eyes, her back arching, her legs slowly moving back and forth, pressing her hips against the sheets. Tara turned her lidded gaze back on Willow's face as her hand passed her waist, and it was with Tara staring into her eyes that Willow gently parted her nether lips, slipped a single finger into herself a little way, and then tucked her thumb behind the sphere in her palm and nudged it forward.

Between its modest size, smooth surface and the abundance of moisture glistening on Willow's sex, it was no effort at all to slip the sphere between her folds and into her channel. She had to fight to keep her eyes open, to hold onto the erotic spectacle of pleasure overtaking Tara's face, as she filled with the sensation of her lover within her, not a part of her, fingers or tongue, inside the hollow of her sex, but Tara's warmth, Tara's wetness, the tight clenching of her muscles and the silky smoothness of her core, coexisting with Willow's own center, as if a part of her. With a trembling hand, Willow slipped a finger into herself, and nudged the sphere deeper, settling it where it wouldn't immediately push out as her inner muscles worked.

Then she did close her eyes, her last glimpse being of Tara doing the same, and she knew from what she felt within that the last gentle nudge had pushed the sphere to the same place Tara held hers. It was no longer a foreign sensation she felt, but something so close to the pleasure radiating from her own sex that it seemed to Willow that she and Tara had merged, that they were both feeling the sensations of a single body, a single core of love feeding them both. Gathering herself, controlling her ragged breathing, she essayed a quick squeeze of her muscles, and was instantly rewarded by the sound of Tara's gasp of delight, and the feeling, within herself, of her lover's answering spasm of pleasure. That in turn sent another wave of pleasure through her, drawing another moan from Tara as she too experienced it.

"I feel you," Tara moaned, her head resting on Willow's shoulder, hot breath flowing across her neck, "I feel you like I'm part of you…I…oh goddess…I-I can't keep myself… can't hold on…for long…"

"Yes," Tara said at once, "yes, I want to feel you…all the way…everything, my love."

"Everything," Willow agreed, as Tara's hand moved down between her legs. Tara shifted, her other hand moving beneath herself, and then, at the same time, both sets of fingers found their destinations.

"Oh!" Willow exclaimed, jolting as Tara caressed her clit, while within her she felt the effects of Tara's attentions to her own sex, the squeezing, the incredible heat and wetness, climbing, soaring.

"Willow," Tara chanted like a mantra, "Willow…Willow…" Willow knew – from her voice, her breathing, the trembling in her form, and from the echo within herself – that she was very, very close. She herself was seconds from climax, but a need overtook her, to give Tara more.

"I love you," she moaned, her hand moving to cover Tara's between her legs, holding Tara's fingers to herself, the pressure on her clit setting her off. As the wave of heat crashed within her, as Tara cried out in ecstasy, she felt the answering climax, felt Tara respond to her pleasure, and Tara's pleasure become a part of her own.

"Tara! Oh goddess," Willow exclaimed, "oh my goddess, oh! Oh…oh Tara…lover…" She shuddered her way through a strong aftershock, which with the same pleasure from Tara had almost the strength of another climax in itself. As her core slowly, very slowly, settled and calmed, she drew Tara to herself, enveloped her in a hug, and kissed her as if she was intent on achieving by pure passion the same kind of joining that magic had just given them.

The kiss – deep, probing and intense – ended only when Tara shifted her hips on top of Willow's, and both gave a little involuntary gasp as the spheres within them tugged gently, finding their partners close enough to link. Tara pressed a final kiss to Willow's lips and sat up a little, sliding her hips down over Willow's thighs. With a luxurious sigh Willow felt the small sphere slide out of her, and parted her legs to let it fall into Tara's palm. With a gentle motion Tara drew its twin out of herself, and set the pair on the bedside table as she lay back down, cuddling around Willow, submitting most willingly to her embrace.

"You're always beautiful," Tara went on, "always…every touch, every moment…I don't- That was a wonderful experience," she said, "but I don't want you to think there's any experience you can't give me on your own."

"I know," Willow assured her, "it was very, very good, but nothing's better than just you and me, making love. We don't need anything else."

"That said," Tara smiled, nuzzling into Willow's hair, spread out on the pillow, "do you get to keep those?"

"I think so," Willow said, lifting her head slightly to give Tara a grin, "they're not actually useful for anything in the workshop, and Myrreon gave them to me…I'll ask him, but yeah, I think we get to keep them."

"Good," Tara said firmly. "The utter, complete perfection of making love to you," she kissed Willow's neck, "may be all I need, but there's nothing wrong with a little… magical experimentation?"

"Not at all," Willow agreed, "variety is the spice of life, after all. And I'd like our life to be nice and spicy."

"Mmm, my spicy sorceress," Tara murmured, slowly kissing her way across Willow's shoulder, then starting down towards her breast.

"Always," Tara said, her voice muffled against Willow's skin, "now lie back…I'm hungry."

She was at home, beneath Tran Athulua in what was colloquially called the Forest Basin. High above the branches of the huge trees spread out, reinforced with timber beams, joining together into a gigantic lattice that bore the weight of a whole city. Hundreds of people lived, worked, played and loved, but here, below, there was a serene hush. Light filtered unevenly through the branches and buildings above – not day, not night, not even twilight but a gentle glow, warm and inviting, shafts of brilliant sun lighting the shady glades and trails.

Tara wandered through the trees in the vague way of a dream, moving from one place to another like water flowing down a stream, her senses filled not with colors and forms but with memories, feelings, echoes of her past and the future she hoped for. She knew Willow was here – not by sight or hearing, but she knew her movements would bring them together. Part of her was already there, touching her skin, inhaling her scent.

With a gentle sigh of change the scene shifted to a glade Tara had liked as a child, near Jenavria's house, where flowers bloomed and birds chirped in their nests in the low branches. Willow was there, of course, lying naked on a carpet of moss around the spreading roots of a great oak, smiling up at her. She reached out to Tara with one hand, her other trailing a rose over her body, dipping between her legs, then back up, with her dew gracing the petals. She brought the rose to her lips as Tara lay with her, both of them kissing the petals, tasting, before a sly grin overtook Willow's features, and she tossed the flower aside and pulled Tara into her embrace.

Tara felt her body singing as she lay between Willow's legs, inhaling her scent, tasting her wetness. The glade became a lake, and the lake in turn became Willow, and an endless ocean which Tara floated in, shallow waves lapping at her body. She arched her back and submerged, diving deep into the water, which became Willow again, her core, her soul in liquid. Tara opened her mouth to the taste and breathed her, Willow's arousal sustaining her as she sank even deeper, beyond the need for light or air, or anything of the world. Her legs parted and she felt Willow's warmth caressing her, flowing into her, as all around her the deep waters of Willow's soul pressed in on her, caressing every inch of her body, kissing her, licking her-

Willow moaned in the back of her throat and tried to keep herself from moving too much as Tara's body writhed against hers, and her mouth bestowed all its affection on Willow's breasts, kissing and licking, sucking on a nipple whenever her gentle motions brought her lips near enough. Finally Willow couldn't resist admitting she was awake, and lifted an arm off her pillow to stroke Tara's hair.

"Mmm," Tara purred. Willow giggled involuntarily as she felt Tara's eyelashes stroke against her skin. Tara started slightly, then looked up at Willow and her mild surprise turned to contentment.

"I was dreaming," Tara said, resting her head on Willow's shoulder. A cheeky grin curved her lips. "Why, was I groping you in my sleep again?"

"I imagine you were," Willow chuckled, "but for at least the last ten minutes you've been kissing my breasts. Most exquisitely, I might add."

"At least," Willow repeated, "that's how long ago I woke up. After that I was kind of pretending to be asleep, and enjoying the attention," she grinned, "I thought you were already awake."

"I was dreaming," Tara said again, "it was beautiful…I was at home, you were there, then you were all around me, and I was…you were touching me, all over, and inside me, and I was breathing you, my heart was beating for you, it was like you were, were life itself."

"Sounds like a nice dream," Willow smiled. Tara opened her mouth to reply, then bit her lip and instead moved her legs, settling herself down atop Willow's left thigh so that she could feel the wealth of wetness there.

"For me too," Willow added, lifting her free leg over Tara's thigh and pulling it down against her own sex, hot and wet with arousal. "In fact," Willow went on, "if you hadn't done that thing with your eyelashes, I don't know how much longer I could have held myself in check anyway."

"What thing with my eyelashes?" Tara asked. She lay down and batted her lashes against Willow's check, just at the top of her cleavage.

"Oh!" Willow squealed in delight. "Yep, that thing…it's like a caress and a tickle all at once. Ahhh…even the tiniest little things you do are so, so…so darned erotic." She rolled over, ending up on top of Tara, who she leaned down and kissed, slowly and thoroughly. Tara opened her lips and settled back luxuriously as Willow's tongue played with hers.

"Lovely Willow-tongue," she murmured to herself, when Willow freed her lips and began kissing her way across her cheek, down to the side of her neck where she nuzzled against the curve of her neck and shoulder, licking her skin. She glanced at the shuttered window, and noticed the light filtering through it was lancing far across the room, rather than slanting downwards.

"Early," Willow replied happily, still applying her tongue to Tara's skin between words, "dawn was just a little while ago, I think. We got an early night last night…well, and more than a little snuggling and kissing and ecstatic moaning, but still, I think we managed a couple of hours sleep…"

"I like early nights," Tara mused, "lots of time for making love, and we get even more time to ourselves in the morning."

"Best of both worlds," Willow grinned. "So, with all this free time we've got, what do you think we should do before we start the day? Read a book? Go down to the markets and see what they've got fresh for breakfast? Dust the mantelpiece?"

"It's always good to start the day with some exercise," Tara said. Willow giggled.

"Well, isn't it lucky I just happen to have an Amazon warrior here who, I'm told, is an instructor as well. I'm sure she'll know exactly how to keep me fit and active."

"I'm sure she will," Tara said, "of course, you're quite fit already, so let's just concentrate on the 'active' part now."

"Heh," Willow chuckled, "my own personal Amazon workout." Tara smiled and rolled Willow over onto her back, cuddling up to her side.

"So does my instructor have any preferences?" Willow asked. "Or should I just improvise?"

"Improvising is good," Tara said, "but to get started, let's see how you do following a strict exercise routine."

"Strict?" Willow asked, a gleam in her eyes. Tara chuckled and lay her head down next to Willow's, whispering in her ear.

"Then I'll put myself in your hands," Willow purred. With a fleeting lick at her ear in parting, Tara sat up and took hold of the covers.

"First, let's see what we've got to work with," she smiled, pulling the bedclothes down to reveal Willow from head to toe. Crouching beside Willow, she very slowly ran her eyes up the length of her body. Willow shivered with anticipation at the naked excitement she saw in Tara's eyes, the shameless, luxurious way her gaze roamed all over her body, taking in her flushed skin, her slightly parted thighs, the gleam of moisture at their apex, the erect nipples still glittering with traces of her kisses.

"You've obviously taken excellent care of yourself," Tara said seriously, with only a twinkle in her eye giving away the amusement she was finding in their game, "I'd even go so far as to say, you're nothing less than what an instructor would dream of. Now, shall we get started?"

"Now, when you start to work out," Tara went on, in her playful-serious voice, "it's very important not to just start cold. You have to warm up first. Normally that would mean doing some easy moves to begin with, but in your case," she leaned over Willow, teasing her with her breasts dangling enticingly near her lips, "there's a very special technique I can use to warm you up. Would you like to try it?"

"Instructor knows best," Willow said, trying for the same serious tone in her voice, though the immediate temptation of Tara's breasts so close made her words come out in more of a desperate gasp. Tara smiled widely, nodded, acknowledging Willow's assent, and moved down her body until she was kneeling beside her legs.

"Open wide," she said, brushing a hand over Willow's thigh. Willow obediently parted her legs, stretching out to either side as far as they would comfortably go. Tara raised an eyebrow in approval and crawled over to kneel between her legs, crouching down close to her center.

"You bet," Willow replied, biting her lip in eager excitement. Tara gave her a grin, then leaned down and, without preamble, pressed her open mouth against Willow's sex, reaching her tongue as deep as she could, swirling and tasting Willow with abandon.

"Oh gods!" Willow shouted, involuntarily thrusting down towards Tara, as if trying to draw more of her in, her slick folds kissing wetly against Tara's lips, her inner muscles clenching desperately. Tara kept Willow writhing for a moment, but drew back before she could gain control of herself and began a rhythm with her hips. She licked her lips, as Willow whimpered beneath her.

"Burning hot," Willow gasped. Tara chuckled, delicately licked her fingertip then touched it to Willow's cleavage, making a hissing sound between her teeth.

"Perfect," she smiled as Willow giggled, "now, we begin. First…start slowly. Put your hand flat on your thigh. That's right…" She lay down next to Willow, propping her head up on the pillows so she could whisper in her ear and observe the length of her body at the same time. Willow had obediently put her right hand on top of her thigh, pressing her fingertips lightly into her skin.

"This is very important," Tara whispered, "before any sort of strenuous exercise, an Amazon always takes a moment to concentrate, focus on herself…to experience her body. Even before a battle."

"Oh yes," Tara replied, "a full-fledged assault on your senses…no prisoners taken, no quarter given. Now, just…feel your body. Open yourself to the experience of, of being you…feel the heat inside you…those firm muscles, ready to obey your every command… feel your core waiting, ready for-" she paused. "Well," she said with a chuckle, "we'll get to that, all in good time. Now, do you feel it? Your whole body?"

"Like I said, we don't want to just leap into the most strenuous exercise," Tara said, resting her upper body against Willow's left shoulder, "you're warmed up, but even so, the best way is to build up slowly…So to start, move just one finger…just a little. Just touch your inner thigh, very slowly, very lightly. Stroke, back and forth…back and forth…enjoying that?" Willow nodded, and Tara felt the trembling excitement within her.

"Good…now move your hand up, slowly, until that finger is just about to touch your lips." She watched Willow's hand edge up to the top of her thigh, with her forefinger dipping down towards her sex, and felt her own arousal building with surprising strength. She did her best to put the demanding itch between her thighs out of her mind, and concentrate on Willow.

"Are you close now?" she asked. "So close you'll be touching yourself, if you move just the tiniest fraction? Good…I want you to concentrate very hard now, just on your core…Concentrate on your sex, Willow," she breathed, trying to ignore how much she was turning herself on in the process, "forget everything else, forget the rest of your body. Feel how wet you are…how ready you are…imagine what it will feel like to touch yourself…imagine that fingertip brushing over your folds…close to your clit…becoming moist…Feel how the muscles inside you are pleading, pleading for you to go inside… aching to be touched…nothing else exists…do you feel it?" Willow nodded, a faint sigh escaping her parted lips.

"Good," Tara purred, "excellent…my perfect Willow…Now, I want you to let that feeling spread through your whole body. From your core down, inside your thighs, down your legs to your feet…and up, through your body, through your chest, flowing from inside you into your breasts, along your arms, up into your mind, flooding you…Do you feel it baby? All of you, so ready?" Willow nodded.

"Now touch," Tara breathed in Willow's ear, "just lightly, just like you imagined… Give your body exactly what it wants, but slowly…so slowly…so you always want more." She watched as Willow's finger moved a fraction, felt the shiver than ran through Willow as she touched herself, and she drew her finger up, the fingertip cresting her mound, touching her clit for a fraction of a second.

"Now still," Tara said, and Willow lay her trembling hand back on her thigh. Her breathing was deep, her breasts rising and falling beneath Tara's gaze.

"Sensitive?" Tara asked. Willow nodded unsteadily. "Felt good, didn't it?" Again Willow nodded. "You want more, don't you?" Again, nod. "Alright…now slowly, baby… your body needs you. Show it how much you love it…touch yourself again…But don't move this time, just rest your finger against yourself." She heard Willow's breathing quicken, and imagined her fingertip nestling between her folds, poised to taste the warmth within.

"Now move," she whispered, "up and down, little motions…and feel every stroke go a little deeper…part your lips a little more…" She glanced at Willow's face, and smiled at her intense, desperately blissful expression.

"I love you," Willow whispered. Tara settled in beside her, finding her face far more erotic to watch than the motions of her hand.

"Deeper," she purred, her gaze fixed on Willow's lips as an anticipatory smile tugged at their corners, "deeper now…and feel every muscle…feel every heartbeat as it surges through you…" Willow's lips trembled, opened in a silent sigh of delight. Tara felt her arm move slightly, and knew as if Willow's body were her own what she was doing.

"That's good," she continued, "that's so good…faster now…feel your core grasping at your finger, welcoming it with every thrust…straining to hold it inside every time you draw back…weeping tears of joy for being filled, and caressed…loved…"

"I love you," Tara replied, "now draw back, and hold yourself back…still…that's good." She felt Willow's arm trembling, and didn't have to imagine the temptation she felt to return to her inner warmth. It was only by a great force of will that Tara had been able to ignore the demands of her soaking, pulsing sex. She shivered, feeling tiny beads of moisture trickle out of her, down the insides of her thigh, over her mound.

"Two fingers now," Tara sighed, "this is the key to a good workout, you see." She smiled to herself. "When you've found that place where you feel like you can keep going forever, then you add just a little more…push yourself just a little further…that's how you reach your peak. Reach for me, baby," she whispered, licking Willow's earlobe, "reach into yourself, reach your core."

She felt the motion of Willow's arm as she returned her fingers to her sex, and marveled at the beauty in her face as she let out an unrestrained moan of pleasure. Tara's own center throbbed in sympathy as Willow's body rocked with her motions, in and out, gaining pace.

"Good, baby," she breathed, "so good, so beautiful…oh goddess Willow I love you… feel with your whole body baby, don't hold back…don't hold back…faster…rub your clit baby, every stroke, all the way up to your clit, then down and back inside, inside and out, oh goddess baby, do it…do it…" Willow's amorous whimpers were constant now, a stream of aroused sound welling up from her soul with every breath she released. Her body was writhing, in the grip of the rhythm of her hand, and Tara reached around her shoulders, holding on to her.

"Come for me," she whispered, "come for me, my beautiful Willow, make my world perfect, make me come…"

"Yes!" Willow cried out loud, her hips rising completely off the bed as her climax took over. Tara held on to her, aroused beyond belief, and between her own clenching thighs her core released its flood of pleasure. Willow gasped and moaned aloud, caressing her folds as her juices saturated her thighs and her hand, turning her head to search for Tara's lips, and claiming them the moment she found them. Tara held nothing back, letting Willow feel the full measure of how wholly, hopelessly aroused she had become.

"Mmm," Willow moaned into Tara's mouth, rolling over and embracing her, pressing their bodies together. Her hand, soaked from her own climax, gently explored Tara's moistened sex, bringing on a series of delightful tremors that shook her whole body. She then brought her fingers to their joined lips, adding the taste of both their orgasms to their mouths. Tara felt she would cry from pleasure, and even when Willow finally released her lips and lay her head on her chest, she remained in a state of ecstasy, sighing and whimpering, licking the mingled tastes from her lips.

"You know," Willow said, once Tara had rode out her post-orgasmic bliss, "if all those soldiers you're teaching at the barracks find out the kind of exercises you give me, they're going to be severely jealous." Tara chuckled, and in the warmth of their shared pleasure her chuckle overtook her and infected Willow until they were both clutching at each other laughing.

"So you liked your Amazon workout, then?" Tara asked when she had managed to calm down.

"Oh yeah," Willow grinned, wriggling her body against Tara's, "I can feel it doing me a world of good. I take it this is an ongoing program?"

"Definitely," Tara replied, adopting her mock-serious instructor's voice again, "best results are achieved with a consistent regimen – daily, or if you like, even more frequent."

"Sounds good to me," Willow said, rolling on top of Tara and cuddling up to her, "I'll take one lifetime's worth."

"I know," she replied, "a-and I love you so much…" She pressed a tender kiss to Tara's lips, tears spilling calmly from her eyes and trailing down her cheeks. With a radiant smile she hugged Tara tightly and buried her face in the blonde hair spread across the pillows.

"No hurry," Tara smiled, "hey, you feel like a long, relaxing bath to start the day?" Willow's head popped up, a gleeful smile on her lips.

"Well, it's important we both keep up our exercises, and you know, it can be very soothing to work out in the water, so…" Willow's smile actually grew wider, "…want to put me through my paces?"

The guard at the barracks gate accepted Willow's reason for visiting and let her by, quickly telling her in a bored voice which buildings were off-limits, and pointing her in the direction of the archery ranges. She kept to his directions and found them quickly, though she was surprised to find the firing lines vacant. Spotting the lone figure nearby, she smiled and sat down on a bench, content to watch for a while.

Tara was practicing with her spear, concentrating wholly on herself and her motions, such that she didn't seem to have noticed Willow's presence. The weapon whirled around her, and she moved almost as if she were dancing, spinning, darting from side to side, advancing and retreating amid dazzling combinations of strikes and defensive strokes. Willow leaned back against the wall behind the bench and tuned out everything but Tara, idly fixing on one part of her for a while then moving on to the next, studying her in detail. Where her armor left her bare – her face, her upper chest, arms and legs – Willow could see the sheen of sweat on her, a combination of the sun's heat and her exhaustive routine. But as the minutes wore on, she never faltered – precise, controlled, graceful.

'That's my girl,' Willow thought, shaking her head slightly in wonder. 'My girl, my lover, my partner…Tara.' She noticed a motion off to one side and glanced at it, spotting a pair of lancers on their way from the armory to another building. She couldn't help but grin as she saw them both take more than a glance at Tara, and one of them murmur a comment to the other with an impressed expression on his face. 'What're you thinking?' she mused, before turning her gaze back on her lover, 'something like 'Wow, isn't she hot'? 'Boy I wish I could get to know her better'? Too bad,' she grinned, 'she's mine. All mine. I'm the one who gets to kiss her…all over…yummy. I get those strong hands holding me, touching me everywhere…I get those thighs wrapped around me, I get to run my tongue up and down them, and then between them…I get to see her glistening with sweat like that from a very different kind of exercise.' She chuckled to herself. 'Who's the luckiest sorceress in the whole world? What do you know, it's me! Yay me.'

She smiled and stood up as Tara's routine drew to a close, and waved when Tara glanced over and saw her. She spun her spear around a couple of times, casually, then sauntered over to Willow.

"Well now," she said flirtatiously, "what's a pretty young thing like you doing hanging around the barracks?"

"Oh, you know," Willow said, waving a hand vaguely, "just checking out the soldiers, you know how sexy leather armor can be, on the right body."

"As a matter of fact, I did," Willow replied, taking Tara's hand and walking with her across the vacant parade ground next to the archery ranges. "I just sat down for a moment to get out of the sun, and happened to spot a sexy goddess of a woman getting herself all hot and sweaty doing a spear routine."

"Oh yeah," Willow replied airily, "and between her armor being yummily tight, and not concealing much, I saw plenty. I was thinking I might see if I can get her into my bed…"

"You've very confident," Tara observed, "how do you know she hasn't already got some hunky soldier to keep her company?"

"I have it on good authority that she's got a thing for red-headed sorceresses," Willow said with a wink.

"Well in that case I definitely like your chances of getting lucky with her," Tara chuckled. "Do you know who this sexy spearwoman might be?" Willow nodded and returned her grin.

"You know I'd never even think about anyone else," Willow said, seriousness behind her smile.

"I know," Tara said easily, setting Willow's mind at ease, "and for the record, you can seduce me anytime you want. Sort of like having your cake and eating it too."

"Well, as you so accurately noted," Tara said, leading Willow between the armory and a storehouse, "I got all 'hot and sweaty'. There's a shower block down by the river. Private stalls for officers – I get to use one of those. Technically I'm an officer, you know."

"Only a third lieutenant," Tara said bashfully, "kind of bottom of the food chain, for officers, but it means I'm entitled by military law to give orders to the troops I'm training. The contract only applies while I'm in the barracks compound on instructor duty, though. Not that I'm instructing at the moment."

"I don't care," Willow said, "I'm still proud of you. Though seeing as you mention it, where's your class of budding archers? You didn't send them all home to their girlfriends to get some exercise, did you?"

"No," Tara laughed, "there's an escort being put together, they got called away an hour early for briefing and preparation. They marched out not long before you got here, they're going to form up outside the city while the rest of the expedition gets together. They'll be away for two weeks, to the northern army and back, and until then I've just got afternoon classes with the household platoons."

"Not really, just going up there to check things out. He told me this morning, apparently the Duke got a report last night saying that the mages they've got up there found evidence of enemy mages, but weren't sure what it was. They're battle mages, according to Myrreon, so not necessarily the best at identifying artifacts and reading ancient tomes."

"Yeah," Willow said, "just for the two weeks it'll take to get there and back. He's taking Zan with him, they're leaving tonight."

"He's given me permission to use his workshop and most of his libraries, and Ocean's staying, the orrery's doing something delicate she needs to make daily adjustments to for the next few days. So I'll be able to pursue a couple of projects Myrreon started me on. Plus there's the other mages the Order made arrangements with, at the university, and the private ones. I'll visit most of them, see if any of them have openings in their schedules for the next couple of weeks. I'll drop by that mage Ember wrote to this afternoon. But basically, more free time than otherwise. So, you're free mornings, huh?"

"Just so long as you deliver me to the barracks after lunch, I'm yours," Tara grinned.

"Goody," Willow smiled. They reached the river, where a squat rectangular building turned out to be the shower block. There was no sound from within, and Willow peeked through the open door, seeing the interior to be largely empty, with a tiled floor and a row of metal showerheads. Tara led her around to the side of the building, where a number of enclosed stalls had been added.

"You could wait out here," she said, sounding like she didn't think much of the idea, "or if you want," a grin appeared on her lips, "the stall's big enough for two?"

"Luring me into a shower five minutes after we met?" Willow smiled. "Who's seducing who here?" Tara raised a suggestive brow, then reached out and caught the collar of Willow's robe, gently dragging her in and closing the door behind them.

The stall was roomy and clean, sloping gently to one end, where the shower was, and at the other mainly occupied by a bench and a high wooden shelf. The showerhead was connected to a small foot-operated pump, and from there evidently to the river. Willow felt a tiny spark of magic from the pump, and hazarded a guess at a simple filter spell. Tara slid the bolt across in the door, locking it, propped her spear in the corner, and laid her bow, quiver and pack on the shelf.

"Love to," Willow replied, starting to undo the laces on her armor. With practiced ease she quickly divested Tara of her armor, neatly laying out the bodice, skirt, boots and gloves at the far end of the stall, clear of where the water might splash. Tara gave Willow a glance over her shoulder, an inviting grin, and repositioned her hips. Willow took the invitation and crouched down behind her, sliding the thin leather underwear down her legs. She couldn't resist leaning in to give Tara a quick kiss on her bottom, which drew a giggle.

"How about a deal?" Tara suggested. "You pump, I bathe…you get to watch. I'll make it worth the effort."

"I like this deal," Willow nodded. She sat down on the bench, finding she could reach the pump with one outstretched leg quite comfortably, and gave a few pumps. This pressurized the system, so that water sprinkled out of the shower as soon as Tara turned the single tap. Willow found she only needed give a pump every few seconds to keep the water flowing consistently, and quickly fell into a rhythm she didn't need to think about, leaving her mind free to concentrate on Tara.

'She's as good as her word,' Willow thought idly, propping her chin up on her hand and gazing longingly at her. Tara was indeed making the chance to watch her bathe worth far more than the meager effort of keeping the shower going – she turned slowly, swaying her hips, tilting her head back as the water flowed through her hair, over her shoulders, down her body and legs. Her hands ran lazily up and down, now cupping her breasts, squeezing her nipples, now one hand caressing her neck and continuing upwards, gathering a handful of hair and lifting it above her head, as her other hand brushed lightly between her legs, fingers moving slowly through the patch of hair there. Willow's head started to tilt from side to side in time with the swaying of Tara's hips, as if she were hypnotized.

Tara tipped her head far back, closing her eyes as the water showered onto her face, running in rivulets down her body. From there she rolled her head around until she was looking straight down, her hair swept over on one side, water streaming from it. Looking up just enough to meet Willow's gaze she grinned, then leant down, lifted her right breast and delicately licked her nipple. Willow shivered involuntarily. Tara's grin widened, then she looked down at herself, craned her neck a little further and cupped her breast a little higher, and took her nipple into her mouth. Willow let out a sound somewhere between a whimper and a moan, and then found herself unable to keep her gaze from following Tara's other hand as it descended again to her mound. With her feet planted firm and wide, Tara used her index and ring fingers to part her lips, and her middle finger took Willow's eyes with it as it stroked up and down the soft pink flesh in between.

Tossing her head back, she lifted her fingers from her folds and stroked herself, once, lavishly, with her palm. She turned and spun the tap off, then sauntered over to where Willow was sitting.

"Huh?" Willow's brow furrowed in confusion, then she looked down at her foot, which was still pressing against the pedal every few seconds. With a sheepish smile she stood up and handed Tara a towel from her pack.

"I guess I shouldn't be surprised," Tara said nonchalantly, "I knew you liked pumping me." Willow couldn't help a burst of shocked laughter.

Willow sauntered happily down one of the narrow streets that wound through the blocks to the south of the university, swinging her staff jauntily with each step. She had had lunch with Tara, at a little tavern restaurant near the barracks, which judging from the handful of uniforms among the patrons was where the officers liked to spend their lunch hours. A well-cooked hearty meal, and Tara's company, had left her grinning all the way down past the side of the university, through a small square ringed with small boutiques that seemed to carry all kinds of magical commodities – she made a note to visit them later – past a grassy sports field where young boys from a school were playing some game that involved a ball and a lot of good-natured running into each other, down into a pleasant little maze of tiny shops all squeezed together, offering all kinds of eccentric oddities for sale, each with a separate workshop, studio or room-for-rent occupying the first floor.

Willow came to what seemed to be a shop for small antique tables – at least, that comprised most of what was stacked to the ceiling just inside the door – and glanced at its tiny street number, then again at the folded letter from her satchel. With a shrug she went in, setting a tiny bell chiming as she pushed back the door.

"Hello?" said a middle-aged woman wearing an over-large pair of spectacles, who popped up suddenly from behind a cedar cabinet just beside Willow. "What can I do for you dear lady? A side table? An end table? A set of drawers, I have just the thing. You're looking for something more up-market than just a common piece of furniture- no? You've just arrived in town, and need to decorate your rooms? I've just taken delivery of a drinks table all the way from the Tamoe highlands, it's the most beautiful piece of work, would you like to see it?"

"Um…no, thank you," Willow said, slightly taken aback by the woman's enthusiastic and unremitting sales pitch, which she seemed to have delivered without the need to draw breath until she was done. "Um, I'm looking for," she checked the letter again, "Niston Gelt? My name's Willow, I sent a letter a couple of days ago?"

"Oh, you mean Mister Gelt upstairs," the lady said, nodding to herself. "The stairs are just around the corner to the left, dear – that's left looking in, it'd be your right, if you're facing that way, facing out, I mean…this side," she finished, pointing to the wall.

"No, thank you," Willow said politely, backing out the door. The lady gave her a smile and a shrug, then ducked back down beneath her cabinet. Willow shook her head and glanced to the left, where the shop was bordered by a small alley. As promised, when she peered around the corner, a thin flight of wooden stairs led up to the shop's upper storey. Willow climbed them – they were sturdy enough, despite looking somewhat precarious – and knocked on the door at the top.

She heard a bolt slide back, and the door opened to reveal a tall man in faded brown robes with a handful of pockets sewn around the waist. He looked about fifty, though his exact age was difficult to tell – his face was somewhat gaunt, though otherwise handsome enough, lined but in other ways inclined more towards youth than old age. His hair was white, pure white rather than aged gray, fine and well cared-for, hanging to his shoulders. The doorway was only a little more than Willow's height, so that he was stooped slightly looking through it. His eyes, a piercing gray, flickered to Willow's staff and then back to her face.

"Miss Willow of the Zann Esu?" he asked in a polite voice that was as smooth as liquid.

"Please come in," Gelt said with a nod. He stood aside to let her through, and pushed the door to behind her, without bothering with the bolt. She took a moment to glance around, taking a quick impression of the room. The furnishings were an eclectic mix of styles, the shelves and small tables evidently acquired from the shop downstairs. A door to one side led to the other room – the size of the storey as a whole suggested there were only the two – and two small windows, currently shuttered, looked out onto the street, one of which had a slim telescope on a tripod perched in front of it, aimed up at the sky. The books, lining the shelves and scattered about on other surfaces, were all small, old and here and there slightly battered – no newly printed works, all likely the property of more than one previous owner. A set of intricate brass instruments hung on pegs in one wall, an astrolabe, a small sickle, a pair of compasses with a ratcheted lever between their arms, and a circular device Willow recognized after a moment as a spectral sextant. Various rolled-up maps and charts were stacked in a corner, behind a plain wooden desk with an old, worn padded chair. Gelt hurriedly lifted a stack of books off a wooden chair and set it in front of the desk, motioning Willow towards it while he sat in what was obviously his familiar position.

"Actually sir," Willow said, "I don't remember her mentioning you to me at all, there was just the letter, the one I sent you. I'm on a, a sort of study tour, I guess you'd say, the Order gave me a whole bunch of introductory letters so I could meet some of the mages they have dealing with and arrange to work with them, only the one I sent you was from Ember herself, rather than the Order. I figured you knew her personally, rather than through the Order?"

"We journeyed together, some time ago," Gelt nodded, "so, she sent you to me… well, I must tell you before all else that I do not believe she meant for you to study with me."

"Perhaps, though," Gelt went on, "she thought you might learn something. Her instincts, I suspect, moved her to give you that letter which you sent to me, so I must conclude that she felt I would be of some use to you. I must also conclude, though I admit it goes against my nature, that she intended for me to trust you."

"This is a fine city," Gelt said, leaning back in his seat, "welcoming to many peoples, but there are some here who, for various reasons, find it necessary to conceal their identities. Not everyone is welcome. I am one such person."

Willow opened her mouth to pose a question, then her mind caught up with her ears and she jolted to her feet, her chair toppling over behind her.

"Well, it might be more comfortable than standing," he replied evenly. "Do as you wish – the door is unbolted, you could be out of here in seconds. Or, come to that, you could just as easily kill me. I'm unarmed, and have no protective spells prepared." Willow hesitated, and glanced quickly around the room for any sign of active magic.

"Consider why you are here," Gelt said, patiently but not unkindly, "Ember sent you to me. Do you believe she would knowingly put you in harm's way?"

"Please," he said, gesturing to her chair. Cautiously, she picked it up and seated herself opposite him.

"Most necromancers are evil," Gelt said, leaning back, "however, they are not priests of Rathma. Just as not all elementalists are Zann Esu – many mages have a spell or two at their disposal that draws on primal elemental power. Almost all healers use primal fire magic, even if only on a passive level. There have even been evil mages who used the elements for their own ends. Fire, ice and lightning in the service of evil – does that make the Zann Esu evil?"

"I can only tell you," he said, "I can't make you believe it." Willow gave him a long, calculating stare.

"Okay," she said, "let's say Ember knows you're a ne- a priest of Rathma," she corrected herself.

"Why send me here? And why like this, in secret, without at least telling me? I trust her, if she'd told me who you were-"

"She could have been overheard," Gelt sighed, "or her letters might have been read. There is no court in any of the lands of Sanctuary that does not live by influence, politics and suspicion, and the same is true of orders of mages. Even yours, which I might say is among the better. This way, so far as the Zann Esu are concerned, your sponsor sent you to meet an old friend of hers, a mage of some small merit she met on her travels once, who perhaps might have a word or two of wisdom for you – there is no reason for anyone to doubt this. If a sponsor were to be found to be consorting with necromancers, sending her impressionable young students to them, well, how would the Council of the Zann Esu react?"

"It…there'd be consequences," Willow allowed. "But if what you say is true – if – why the secrecy at all? The Council aren't zealots, if you're free of evil influences, and they were allowed to see that for themselves-"

"Ah, well," Gelt said, "let's just say the priesthood finds it convenient to remain in the shadows. It allows us to do what we believe we must do."

"I suppose I had better explain, as best I can. Rathma represents balance. Balance in all things, and the most important balance, underlying all others, is that between order and chaos. The purpose of our priesthood, the goal we strive towards, is to maintain that balance, to see to it that neither chaos nor order gain the upper hand. You're going to ask what's wrong with order overcoming chaos?"

"Would you want to live in heaven?" Gelt asked. "The Zann Esu know, so far as any mortal can, what heaven is."

"Would you want that? Not an afterlife, heaven as the Zakarum church describes it, but to actually be alive, in the high heaven of the crystal arch? Most people would say yes, of course, but you didn't – I imagine this thought has occurred to you before."

"And knowing what heaven would do to a mortal life – render it changeless, sterile, unable to grow, to become more than it already is – it has occurred to you that it is just as well that the high heaven is reserved for angels, and when we die our souls will find rest in a place closer in nature to the mortal realm. Perfect order, and perfect chaos such as exists in the burning hells, exist because they should. But in their proper places – not here. Sanctuary is not for demons and angels, it is for mortals, and we require both order and chaos. Those who ignore this, and strive to impose total order…I'm sure you're familiar with the examples history affords us."

"Oh, yes," Gelt nodded, "some degree, just as some degree of chaos is valuable, indeed necessary. But order is not an end in itself, any more than chaos is. What purpose could there be in causing chaos, destroying, simply because one can? Madness. But so too, there is no purpose in creating order simply for its own sake. Order is…it's a tool, it allows us to create stability, a place to be safe, to build for the future, to prepare for what might lie ahead. And chaos allows us to invent, to grow, to become more than we are. Both are necessary, and neither alone are enough. That is what Rathma means. There are times when chaos becomes too powerful – the Reckoning was one such time. Then we take up arms against the forces of chaos, to allow order to regain its position in the balance."

"Yes, that's the question, isn't it? When order grows strong, it will inevitably fail of its own accord – perfect order is not attainable in the mortal realm, thankfully. But in failing, such order may do tremendous damage, poisoning the minds of millions against new ideas, different ways of living. And the collapse of order leaves a vacuum into which chaos flows. It is, in most cases, preferable to ease the decline of an overbearing system of order, rather than allowing it to implode by itself."

"The same way we aid order," Gelt said, "there are always people who recognize, instinctively or for personal reasons, the danger of an imbalance. When chaos reigns, the brave take up arms to protect their little patches of order – their villages, their families, their way of life. And when it is order that grows too strong – people are not inherently orderly, so there are always those who do not conform. They are persecuted, shunned, driven out. You…" he seemed to concentrate for a moment, "…you love a woman. And you have encountered people who regard this as a sin."

"I will explain soon," Gelt replied, "in all likelihood, those people who denounced your partnership had never been themselves harmed by it, or by other similar men or women. They simply considered a system of order – one man, one woman – to be more important than your individual nature. There are always people who rebel, or are forced to rebel, against such prejudice, and it is those people we then come to the aid of. So long as their voices are heard, there is an avenue, however difficult, for tolerance – acceptance of the chaotic within human nature – to breed, even within the most strictly ordered society. Do you understand now what we believe, and why we believe it to be necessary?"

"It is our nature," Gelt said. "Just as you are attuned to the primal elements, the priesthood of Rathma is composed of those attuned to balance. We can…see it, sense it. When a person, a group, a place is in balance, we know it. Likewise, even when all seems well, we can sense where a tiny imbalance has the potential to grow into a greater one. We sense all balances, not just that between order and chaos. Joy and grief, good and evil, nobility and selfishness, bravery and cowardice…life and death. All our abilities revolve around sensing the state of these dualities, and altering them. If it is necessary for us to employ force, we can strike fear into the hearts of brave men, turn loyal comrades against each other, sow seeds of doubt in the minds of prevailing foes, and ultimately twist the line between life and death – bring to the dead a measure of life, and thus raise an army from the graves of the slain." He regarded Willow's expression of distaste.

"It is not an ability we use lightly," he said quietly. "Nor do we use it often. We have other powers at our disposal, which we use when possible – some I have mentioned, others you may be familiar with, through rumor and story, such as the creation of golems, which are unliving forms imbued with a measure of life. But necromancy is the strongest force we wield. You're about to ask whether I've ever raised the dead?"

"After I read her letter, I imagined the kind of person who might suit her, as a student," he said with a mild grin, "the idea of someone intensely curious came to mind more than once. Yes, I have wielded necromancy. Three times, not counting my apprenticeship. The most recent, and most extensive, was six years ago. A renegade from the Zakarum church, a Paladin who had cast off his vows, made a pact with a demon, and was given necromantic abilities. I had no choice but to pit my magic against his."

"You wouldn't have heard of it," Gelt said, "to my knowledge, no-one besides myself and my superiors in the priesthood are aware that the battle even took place. It is often best that such things pass unnoticed by the world at large. Fear is a powerful incentive to accept order, even when it is a strict, dangerous order. It is usually best for the general populace to feel safe in their homes. It promotes a more tolerant view of the everyday differences that stem from the chaotic within us all. Usually, of course – sometimes it is necessary to know of the danger, otherwise no-one would steel themselves against it."

"You'll understand if I'm still not quite at ease with all this," Willow frowned.

"Of course, of course. To be frank, it's probably for the best that you aren't. Necromancy is far more commonly practiced by the evil than the good. It's a power inherent to demons, whereas very few mortals are born with it, and fewer still join the priesthood. I honestly do not think it would be wise for you to be 'at ease' with the raising of the dead. I'm not."

"Oh, not that she was hurt, of course not…but you felt the hurt as if it were your own. In any case, you saw the creature. How did it feel, for you to look upon it?"

"True. The dead have completed their journey on the mortal plane. Their souls and spirits have gone…wherever they may go, and their remains should be allowed to rest in peace, as they say. To become one with the earth once more. It is a terrible thing to see a body, that once housed a fragile, beautiful mortal spirit, dragged from its rest, animated by soulless power." Willow nodded. "Now," Gelt said, "imagine what it is like to be the cause of it."

"At times, it must be done. Any weapon is terrible, ultimately. A sword may be used to defend, to achieve great good, but the only purpose inherent to it is to kill. Whatever noble goals its wielder may seek to achieve, all a sword is, and can ever be, is an instrument for inflicting suffering and death. A tool for killing, nothing more, and that is terrible."

"You're saying necromancy is the same?" Willow asked, a challenging tone in her voice.

"I am saying necromancy is the extreme end of that dichotomy," Gelt replied calmly. "A terrible power, which we of the priesthood wield for good. Or what we consider to be good – I may tell you we have a special insight into the nature and processes of good and evil, but even so we acknowledge that our judgments are our own, not those of a higher being who claims absolute knowledge. We are but mortals, and as mortals our judgment may be flawed at times. We try our best, though. As I said, we don't wield our powers lightly. I will say, though, that never in the history of our priesthood has a priest of Rathma served a demon. Not once."

"Why tell me all this?" Willow asked. "Why did Ember send me to you? Just to learn about necromancy? I don't mean to offend you, but this is not a subject I'm really eager to pursue."

"Good," Gelt said without hesitation. "And no, I don't imagine you are here simply to meet a necromancer in person, and certainly not to study necromancy. One must be born to it, in any case. But I am explaining this to you so that you will know, in full, who and what I am. I did not wish to meet you under false pretences, you see – I don't think it would have been advisable to do so. If I may draw your attention to something…" He flipped through a few papers on his desk and handed Willow one which she recognized as Ember's.

"The letter she wrote, that you sent to me," Gelt explained. "You'll note that, among all the formalities one might expect in such a request to meet a student of hers, she asks that I 'see what I can see in you'. A casual phrase, but I don't believe she meant it as such – she knew better."

"Well…allow me to demonstrate." Gelt reached to a shelf behind him and drew out a slim book, then lifted a coin purse from one of his pockets and fished out a copper coin. He laid the book flat on the table, then balanced the thin coin on top of it, on its edge, holding it upright with the tip of his finger.

"I don't know," Willow said, frowning, "either way's just as likely." Gelt nodded, then with his other hand lifted up the left edge of the book, keeping the coin held upright relative to the now-slanted cover.

"To the right," Willow said. Gelt let the coin fall, and slide down the book's cover to the desktop.

"Imagine the coin is a man," he said, "making a choice. The book is the world around him, influencing his choice. Suppose he has to fetch wood from the woodpile, will he walk or run the distance from his doorstep? If it's sunny he'll walk, and enjoy the sun, if it's raining he'll run, to be back under the shelter of his roof as quick as possible. If you know whether it's sunny or raining, you know what choice he will make, even though you do not know the workings of the man's mind.

"That's a simple example, but it will suffice. Priests of Rathma see balances, and a choice is simply a balance that tips to one side or the other. We can sense, to continue the example, whether the man will walk or run, because the way his balance tips is already known to us."

"You're right to be skeptical," Gelt nodded, "and of course it's not so simple. Even if that simple example – suppose the man is in a hurry, he may run even if it's dry. Or if he's depressed he may trudge through the rain, conscious of nothing but his gloomy mood. Any single choice is affected by millions, perhaps billions of previous choices. To the sight of Rathma, this turns a simple yes-or-no choice into a murky mire of 'perhaps', 'maybe', 'what if'…but it can also reinforce certain choices. That we are attuned to balance, to choice, affords us a great insight into the present. We can also see, sometimes, a part of the future that the present is leading us to. Whether what we see will come to pass, or whether events will transpire differently…that we do not know until we arrive at the moment of choice – when the future becomes the present."

"Yes," Gelt said, "not a certainty, but a guide. Useful, at times, in moderation. It is called, as I said, 'the sight of Rathma', and I believe this is what Ember referred to. She wants me to look into the balances that make up your life, and uncover where they may take you. The spell will allow you – only you – to see fragments of what may be your future. I chose to reveal my allegiance to you out of…well, loyalty to Ember, as a friend and former comrade, and because I feel it would be reprehensible for me to use my magic on you in this way without your consent, which you could not give if you were unaware of what I am."

"This, also, is not something I do lightly," he warned. "The gifts of the sight can be as much a burden as a blessing, and can lead to as much harm as good. In some cases, in fact, the sight can be used as a weapon – a curse. It is rare to do so, but effective, or so I'm told. The choice must be yours, and you must know the dangers involved."

"There is no physical peril," Gelt said, "you will see, hear and feel what is to come, but you will be unaffected by it, in body at least. Mentally…well," he said with a grim look, "if a man were to look into the future, and see some great suffering to come, what effect might that have on his psyche? I use this as an example only, you understand. Many people – almost all, at one time or another – choose to exist in a state of, well, denial regarding the future. They choose not to think about various inevitabilities – old age, and death. It can be distressing to be confronted with your future in such a way as to force you to accept it."

"That is the risk," Gelt said. "Balance against it Ember's desire for you to see. I'm sure she cares for you, perhaps loves you like a daughter. She would not want you to experience the sight without reason. What that reason may be, I cannot say, nor is it for me to say. There is much that I can see about you – your love for your partner, your great thirst and aptitude for learning, your intellect…and considerable wisdom, for one so young. I see many trials, both fresh in your mind, and not so recent, and that the past few days have been less trying for you. Many things, but not all things, and it is not for me to say what could yet be important to you. Choose, though – do you wish to see?" Willow took a deep breath.

"I- yeah," she said after a thoughtful pause, "yeah, I do. Ember's never steered me wrong, a-and there's…there's something going on that could turn out dangerous. I think maybe she knew, at least suspected, it wasn't over. So yeah," she nodded to herself, "sight me."

"Very well," Gelt said gravely, "You will be perfectly safe while I perform the magic. You will see things, hear things – they will be distorted, perhaps dreamlike. You alone will experience what you see, I will know nothing of it unless you choose to tell me. The details given by the sight are considered highly personal among the priesthood, so I will not ask you to share them – you may, if you wish, or you may wish only to share them with those you feel closest to, or to keep them to yourself. The first experiences you have will be weak, and they will grow from there until they seem as real as the world around you now. Then they will fade again, until the spell is over. Try to remain calm. Remember, what you experience has not yet come to pass, and cannot harm you now."

"I must use a small amount of my blood to prepare the spell. Don't be alarmed." Gelt took the sickle off its peg on the wall and carefully pricked his palm, drawing a bead of blood. He took a deep breath then began to chant very softly, almost inaudibly. He held his palm facing up, and the blood began to flow, in a very thin, faint stream, into the air, a wisp of scarlet that formed a circle.

"The magic of Rathma calls on no power but our own," he explained quietly, "no demon or god holds sway with us. Like the Zann Esu, we are of and for the mortal realm. The sight exposes you to no outside influence. You need not fear."

"Then it begins," Gelt said. The circle vanished, and Willow's eyes closed. Gelt stared at her, breathing deeply and quickly, as if exerting some great continuous effort. His hands clenched, knuckles turning white. He set his jaw, while his breaths became more labored, shallower, as if he was in pain. After a moment he seemed to become accustomed to whatever sensations were troubling him, and continued his vigil, while Willow remained motionless.

"Ah!" she suddenly cried, eyes flying open. Gelt jerked, startled, then wrapped his arms around his middle and gritted his teeth against some deep ache. Willow stared around herself wildly, beginning to rise from her chair, before she remembered where she was, and her breathing calmed. As awareness returned to her, her face fell, and tears began to fill her eyes.

"Wh-what I saw," she began, looking at Gelt. She halted when she saw his state. "Are you alright?"

"Some discomfort," he said in a strained voice, "it will pass…no permanent harm." He took a deep breath and sat up straight, if stiffly. "Our way requires a price be paid in return for our abilities. Another thing that separates us from the," he winced, then recovered, "the necromancers who make deals with demons in return for their powers." Willow frowned with concern, bit her lip, then held out a hand. A haze of frost appeared on the desk, coalesced into the form of a cup, and filled with clear water. Gelt grinned to himself, and gingerly took it.

"Thank you," he said, sipping the water. "I should have prepared a glass of water myself, but I underestimated the drain of the magic on me. That was an unusual casting."

"It didn't fade away like you said," Willow offered, her voice trembling a little. "Just…I saw things, and then suddenly it was over."

"I think you should not tell me what you saw," Gelt said, gulping the rest of the water down and taking a deep, steadying breath. Without concentrating Willow dissolved the cup back into a mist, which quickly faded away.

"The sight was ended prematurely," Gelt explained, "a choice was reached for which I could not reach a point of resolution."

"To bestow sight on another is, essentially, to infer their future choices from the content of their present character. Your spirit guided your path, and determined what you saw. The last thing you experienced was a glimpse of a choice you will, at some point, have to make. For whatever reason, it is a choice your spirit is unable to face now. All the powers of all the priests of Rathma – and, I am sure, the similar powers of seers, scryers, prophets and oracles – cannot see what you will decide. And thus, everything beyond that moment is hidden from us. Even from you – which path you choose will remain a mystery until the moment arrives, and you make the choice as it presents itself to you." He fell silent, and stared at her, with a degree of concern in his gaze.

"Th-thank you," Willow said, gathering her wits, "for trying…I'm s-sorry I was suspicious earlier…"

"Oh, think nothing of it," Gelt said with a wave of his hand, "I'm sorry, in fact. I can see this experience has upset you, and I regret that. I believe that Ember asked for me to do this for a reason, and had your best interests at heart. Perhaps that will afford you some measure of comfort."

"I-I'll try," Willow said. She looked around herself, then slowly stood. "I should go… if there's nothing else?"

"No," Gelt said sadly, "no, that is all I can do for you. Even for one such as Ember, there are things I cannot reveal. I have said and done all I can." He stood and opened the door for Willow. She gave him a fleeting, haunted smile as she stepped past him.

"Willow," he said abruptly. She turned on the landing and looked back at him. He frowned to himself, as if wrestling with some inner struggle.

"I should not say this, not to an outsider, but…the bond you share with your partner – such things have great power. When the moment comes, trust her."

"Good fortune to you," Gelt said. She turned and climbed down the stairs, hearing the door close behind her.

Willow walked joylessly through the narrow city streets, heading slowly back towards the Palace but in truth not paying very much attention to where she was going. Aside from the miniscule amount of concentration needed to keep from walking into anyone, her thoughts were entirely turned inward. She walked by other pedestrians, people enjoying a meal at tables outside taverns, children playing games up and down the pavements, all without sparing a glance or a thought. The present flowed around her, and she ignored it – the future plagued her, and she hunched her shoulders, cast her eyes down, and hoped to reach the privacy of her room before she could no longer hold back the tears.

Over and over, against all better judgment, she replayed the vision in her mind. She wondered balefully how far she would get – when would it become too much, how far would she still have to go when the memories crippled her, and left her crying on a street corner? Doggedly she walked onwards, as again and again she lived what she had foreseen.

At first it had been indistinct, as Gelt had told her it would be, a vague jumble of sensations and familiarities that made no sense. The impression she was standing by a window, with sunlight filtered through glass on her skin. The feel of paper beneath her fingers as she turned the pages of a book. The leap her heart took when Tara was near her, when she felt light and almost able to fly if she wanted. Wind in her hair. A smell, old and dank, like a cellar that had never been aired. The familiar sensation of a minor spell, like a tickle running up the inside of her spine. Something like losing her balance, stumbling.

Then in the space of a heartbeat everything was suddenly vivid and real. Her surroundings were still indistinct – open sky, dark shapes nearby like standing stones, a storm overhead, strange colors hanging in the air – but at the center of her vision she could see as clearly as she saw the pavement in front of her. Tara, her Tara, surrounded by an aura of pure, primal ice, a shroud of cold magic so intense she had never seen the like. The vision lasted only a fraction of a second, but in the instant that it faded it had left Willow with the sickening realization that it was her energy, her magic around Tara, inescapably surrounding her, turning her to ice, flowing through her as if she were nothing. She had seen the future – she was killing Tara.

"Go," she muttered to herself, as the Palace walls loomed up ahead of her and she turned towards the distant gates, "just go." She swallowed and concentrated on her breathing, unwilling to let herself shatter until she was alone.

'No,' she told herself, 'I don't have time to cry. I don't have that luxury. I know what I have to do. Be strong. Walk away. Just get my bags and leave, and she'll be safe. I'll never see her again, but she'll be safe, whatever I saw can't happen, and I can live. I won't have her, but I can live if she's safe. I can live. She'll keep me alive, even if I can't have her. I can't lose her. I can't. I can't!'

She had to stop, pause a moment and take a deep breath, before she resumed her course towards the gates. She was biting her tongue by the time she made it to the Palace, making for her and Tara's room as quickly as she could. She turned down corridors here and there to avoid the Palace's other inhabitants, but there were plenty of ways through the rambling building. She wanted to be alone.

'I can do this,' she thought, 'I can. I have to. I can't hurt her, I can't, I can't- '

"I can't," she muttered, without realizing her voice had picked up her thoughts. She whispered fiercely to herself, as her legs carried her up the spiral staircase.

"I can't hurt her, I can't ki…" she couldn't even say the word, "…no. No, I can't. He was lying, he tricked me, it's not going to happen…" She knew she was deluding herself. 'Don't be weak,' she silently told herself, 'I saw it as if I was there. He wasn't lying. I don't believe that, I just want to. If he was lying, if it wasn't real, then everything's okay, and I want that so much…gods I wish he was lying, why can't he have been lying? Oh gods, what do I do? What can I do?'

She was vaguely aware of Lissa looking up at her from the attendant room as she passed on the landing, but she didn't look or give any indication that she wanted anything, so she was left alone as she climbed the last few stairs and pushed open the door to the bedroom. She leaned heavily against the door as it closed behind her, letting her staff fall to lean against the corner of the wall, and dropped her satchel from her shoulder, leaving it where it lay on the floor. Without really seeing she looked around – bar the bed, which had been made sometime during the day, everything was exactly as she had left it that morning, half an hour after Tara had kissed her goodbye and headed out to the barracks. Willow absently touched her lips, remembering the kiss.

She staggered wearily across the room, slumping onto the long, soft couch beneath the window. Having foolishly allowed herself the luxury of remembering a kiss, the memories came fast now, watching Tara at practice, watching her shower, knowing the way she moved, the way she touched herself, was all for her to watch. Kissing her, teasing her, flirting over lunch, promising fulfillment later. 'Promising,' Willow thought, 'oh gods…oh please forgive me…'

"I promised…" she whispered to herself, willing the tears to come, to wash away her thoughts. All she was given were memories of things she had said to Tara – that she would stay with her, never leave, all the places she would show her, the wonders she had seen on her travels that she would share…the life they would have.

"What life?" she demanded of herself. "There is no life, there isn't- nothing. If you stay, there's nothing, she'll…she-" Willow felt a tear slip from her eye, leaving a wet trail down her cheek. "It'll be my fault," she whispered, almost pleading with herself, "it'll be my fault, if I don't…if I can't leave, a-and she…it's my fault. It will be. I have to go. Now. Get up! Now!" Dashing away the tears that were flowing freely now, she got to her feet and stomped over to the desk, where she had left some of her books out. She looked at them, trying to think.

"Just take what you need," she said to herself, ignoring the tears, "just…the ones you need. And-" 'And what?' her thoughts demanded treacherously. 'Leave the rest? Leave half me life here for her to find, and wonder what drove me away? She'll come after me. I should write her a letter, I should explain- I should…'

The sight of the slim leather-bound book she had bought a few days earlier put a halt to her thoughts. She opened it and felt the blank pages slip past her fingers. She had been going to start it today. She had guessed she would be back from meeting Gelt before Tara returned from the barracks, and she remembered thinking, as she had walked to meet Tara for lunch, that she would start with her first sight of her, in the wagon just by Kingsport docks, as she had sat among her books, looked up at the newcomer, noticed her cleavage first of all – she had imagined Tara's laugh as she read that – then looked up into her face, and seen such a gentle soul in her eyes…

The book fell from her hands, landing on its spine on the desk and falling shut. Willow stared about herself, looking for some safe haven from the life that was too perfect to leave, and the future too terrible to face. Finding none, she staggered to the bed, threw herself across it, curled up, dragging the covers around her, and cried like she had never before cried in her life.

Tara saw Willow curled up on their bed the moment she opened the door, and her jovial greeting died on her lips. Dropping her spear and pack hastily on the table she rushed to the bed, kneeling and leaning forward to reach her.

"Willow?" she whispered hesitantly. "Willow, are you awake? Wh-what's… Willow?"

Willow started at her touch, then the tension seemed to flee from her, replaced by lethargy as she slowly looked up at Tara, deep despair in her eyes.

"Tara," she murmured sadly. Tara's heart broke at seeing her eyes red from crying, and the trails of tears half-dried on her cheeks.

"Sweetie?" she asked, with quiet desperation, "talk to me? What's wrong? Please?" Willow swallowed, hesitated, then raised a hand towards Tara, as if she couldn't quite make up her mind whether to reach for her. Tara lay beside her and hugged her tightly, relieved to feel Willow's arms slowly close around her and hold her in return.

"Y-you're…you're in danger," Willow managed to say, in a choked voice still thick with unshed tears. "You're- something terrible…I'm not strong enough to stop it."

"What's going to happen baby?" Tara asked gently, leaning her head back just far enough to look into Willow's eyes.

"Please?" Tara whispered. "Please, Willow? Whatever it is we'll face it, I promise. I won't leave you, no matter what." She frowned in dismay as this caused Willow to bury her face in the rumpled blankets and sob.

"I-I have…I can't leave," Willow replied without looking up, "I- I have to, to protect you, b-but I can't-"

"Why?" Tara asked, with real fear in her voice. "Baby, why do you have to leave? Please tell me, please…don't leave me?" The last words came out in a whisper, the tremulous plea of a frightened child. Willow heard them though, and her arms, which had been hanging limp around Tara, now hugged her with fierce strength.

"I'm so sorry," she sobbed, "so sorry…I'm- I won't leave you baby, I promise…but I'm so afraid…"

"Just talk to me, Willow," Tara whispered, returning the hug, unfathomable relief in her voice. "Tell me what's going on." Willow managed to look up at her, and Tara lifted a hand to brush the tears from her cheeks, and then stroke her hair as they both lay down, resting their heads against the pillows.

"Did he-" Tara began, fire flashing in her eyes. So close to her, Willow actually felt the flush of power through her, shamefully reminding her that Tara was not a woman incapable of defending herself. She shook her head quickly.

"No," she explained, "no, he's alright, he didn't do anything bad…I'll…Ember sent me to him for a reason…"

Willow talked, uninterrupted, for some time, while Tara listened, holding her and comfortingly stroking her hair. Willow spoke almost in a monotone, her voice as expressionless as it was normally lively. Tara frowned at first, when Willow told her who and what Niston Gelt was, but let her keep talking, and as Willow explained the ways of his priesthood, and added her belief that he was telling the truth, she relaxed. Only once did Willow falter, when describing the vision she had experienced.

"Deadly magic," she was explaining, "absolutely deadly…I was casting at-" There her voice caught, and she seemed unable to speak.

"Me?" Tara prompted softly. Willow nodded wretchedly, but Tara just kept stroking her hair, her other hand hugging Willow's waist, and after a moment she resumed her tale.

"Do you want to leave?" Tara asked, as calmly as she could, when Willow had finished. She made no motion to get up, or let go her hold on her.

"No!" Willow said vehemently. "No, by all the gods no, I never wanted to leave you. I…I was so afraid…I am afraid," she admitted, her voice growing small and shameful, "and I thought…I thought if I wasn't around you, I couldn't hurt you…I-"

"I'm so sorry," Willow said, fierce through her tears. She turned over in Tara's embrace and clung to her tightly. "I'm so sorry…I never wanted to hurt you, never…"

"I was upset," Tara admitted, "and worried. But not hurt. I knew there was something going on I didn't understand yet, and I…I was afraid that, for some reason, you would leave. But I knew you didn't want to, even if you believed you had to."

"Shh, baby," Tara murmured, "you're not stupid, don't ever think that. It's alright to be scared baby, it's alright…we'll make it through this. Just like we have before, together."

"I promise," Tara said sincerely, "somehow, we will get through this. I won't give you up. I can't."

"I'm just so-" Willow began. "The thought of hurting you…it's so terrible, it frightens me so much, I just want to run away…huh," she chuckled mirthlessly, "some sorceress I am."

"Don't say that," Tara said gently, "you're the bravest person I know. You remember putting all your trust in me, when we were surrounded by goat-men?"

"Then trust me now," Tara went on. "I will not let that happen to you. I don't care if destiny and fate and all the powers in the world try to make it happen, I won't let it. You don't have to worry," she whispered, leaning over to rest her cheek against Willow's, "I know, baby, I know with all my heart, you won't hurt me. Look at me?" She gently guided Willow's gaze to hers again.

"I don't have any defenses against you," she said softly, "I've let you into my heart completely, and you know why? Because I know I can. Because I know you make me safe. And if anything tries to change that," she shook her head for emphasis, "then it can go straight to hell, because I won't let it. You will not hurt me."

"I…" Willow said at last, "I-I believe you. Gods know I'm afraid, but I believe you. I believe in you."

"I believe in you too," Tara replied. "It's okay to be afraid. I am too. But we're together, baby, so…so I know we'll be alright. Whatever's going on, we'll defeat it." Willow swallowed, then nodded once, firmly.

"I know," Tara smiled, "that's why I know we'll make it. I love you too, Willow."

"Tara," Willow murmured, capturing her lips for a moment, seeking reassurance and finding it.

"Well, first things first," Tara grinned, "it's getting close to dinner time. Let's get something to eat?" Willow smiled tentatively, and they both sat up.

Rather than use the dining table Tara suggested they eat on the couch, and so they did, with trays balanced on their laps, Willow leaning contentedly against Tara, enjoying the constant gentle strokes and touches she gave whenever she had a hand free. Tara was glad to see Willow's smiled coming easier and more frequently as she relaxed – she knew they had to discuss her vision in more detail, but she would have been reluctant to bring it up so soon had Willow's distress continued.

"Okay then," she said quietly, stacking Willow's empty tray on top of hers and leaving both on a side table for later, "comfy?"

"Comfy," Willow said, with a small sigh but a resolute expression as she glanced up at Tara.

"Alright, let's start at the beginning. Do you think it would do any good to go back to Gelt tomorrow? I'm free all day, I'll go with you."

"I don't think so," Willow said, measuring her thoughts carefully, "I think he's told me all he can. Or at least all he's able to, according to the rules his priesthood has. He sort of suggested that the last thing he told me, to trust you, was something he shouldn't have said to an 'outsider', like it was something he was able to see, but shouldn't have shared. I…" she paused for thought, then continued: "I think he's done his best, for the sake of whatever loyalty he has to Ember, and now it's up to us." She shrugged. "Plus, being a priest of Rathma in a place like this, he must lead a fairly secretive life, so turning up on his doorstep demanding information would probably be…well, impolite." She gave Tara a little grin.

"Okay," Tara agreed. "Alright then…you believe he's told you the truth? About what he is, and what you saw?"

"I do," Willow said, "I'm not a truth-seer or anything, and even if I was from what he said it's possible he'd be able to counteract that kind of magic, but…well, I believe him. Maybe I'm wrong, maybe he was hiding his real intentions or his real nature…Ember always told me to trust my instincts though, and I think he's genuine. Besides, Ember obviously knew he was more than just a common mage, and I don't think he could have fooled her, not to the extent that she'd entrust me to him. All together, it…it makes sense that he is what he said."

"And the spell he did for you was what he said it was," Tara added. "From what he told you, how definite do you think that power was? Was he showing you what will be, or what might be?" Willow gave this careful consideration.

"I think he believed it," she said eventually, "I'm not sure I do – what I saw was… well, I don't want to believe it," she admitted, "part of me can't…but the intellectual side of me says that he believed I saw something that will happen, not something that might happen. And it seems from what he said that his priesthood are good at this sort of thing. And, again, Ember sent me to him for this. She doesn't put much store in predestination, as a rule, so if she thought it was important enough…" She frowned to herself.

"You remember I told you once about the Priestesses of Zerae?" Tara asked. "The ones that have visions, like the Oracles in your order." Willow nodded, and Tara went on, "Well, they believe that what they see is the future at that moment. Sort of like…like being on a boat and looking ahead. You can see where you'll end up, but if you change the sails, your course changes. They say that the, the act of seeing the future changes it."

"Yeah," Willow nodded, "I understand…I don't think that's what Gelt's priesthood believes, though."

"Maybe they don't, but Ember does," Tara suggested. Willow glanced up at her, and Tara could see her digest the idea, as a grin tugged at the corners of her mouth.

"Maybe," she said slowly, "I- the thing is," she confessed, "I'd absolutely love to find some way where what I saw isn't real, and everything's okay. I-I don't want to dismiss it too easily, though. It's tempting to dismiss it, but-"

"But we don't want to be unprepared for anything that does happen," Tara finished. "I agree. Okay, let's look at it this way: we have a chance to change what will happen. I want to believe everything's okay, too," she smiled, "but not if it means putting either of us in danger. Whatever happens, we'll be ready, I promise."

"Then we've got a plan," Tara said, hugging Willow and giving her a playful pat on her stomach. "Alright, so…your vision. Tell me everything you can remember, as much detail as you can. Anything might be important."

"There wasn't much," Willow admitted, "and I didn't recognize anything at the time… apart from you," she added with a frown. Tara gave her a reassuring squeeze.

"Maybe we'll recognize something if it turns up," she suggested, "it might give us the chance we need to do something differently." Willow looked up at her with a grin.

"Good thinking," she noted, "okay…first it was just a few sensations…like- bits of experiences, but not the whole thing. Sort of…like you'd get if you had déjà vu, and take away the actual experience of whatever it is you're doing that seems familiar. Just the sense of something…Okay, first I felt as if I was standing in front of a window during the day, I don't know where – might even have been here," she shrugged, waving a hand in the direction of the window opposite them, beyond the bed, "I just don't know. There was definitely sunlight, and a…like a sense of the space beyond the window, but I think it was closed. Looking out on a view that I wasn't part of, like from behind glass. I didn't feel the wind, of hear anything from it. Not a whole lot to go on."

"Yeah," Willow agreed. "Next there was a book – I think it was a book. I just felt paper on my fingers like I was turning pages, but there was a, a sort of weight to it, which is why I think book rather than a pile of paper or something. No idea what it was, though. Then I felt like you were with me. I always feel better when you're close," she said, smiling up at Tara, "I felt that, I'm sure. Then I felt wind blowing, I don't know if I was running, or riding, or if it was just a strong wind – just the feel of my hair blowing around. Then a, a sort of confined feeling, not trapped exactly, just…like I'm in an enclosed space, and it's kind of dark and damp. Not scary, just…like a cellar, or a basement. Or maybe just an old room without any candles lit. Some place that hadn't been disturbed in a while, it had that sort of…still feeling. I felt myself cast a spell, a minor one, I'm not sure what. Cold magic, not from a scroll, but nothing powerful. Then I felt off balance, like I'd stubbed my toe, and was just feeling myself overbalance but I hadn't started falling yet."

"Well, there wasn't anything between them, but I don't think they were related – I don't think it was the spell making me feel that, whatever it was. Then…well, that was when the real vision hit me."

"It was…everything around you was blurry, like – like I could only properly see what I was focusing on, and everything else was peripheral. I'm sure it was open sky overhead. Cloudy, overcast, a storm, I think. There were these dark shapes all around, like pillars, or standing stones, I'm not sure, I couldn't see them properly. Just…things, standing upright. I think stone, just a feeling. There were these patches of, of color, in the air. It must have been some sort of magic, but I don't know what, nothing I've ever seen before."

"Maybe," Willow nodded, "they might have been connected. They were all around. Some kinds of magic need standing stones, or some sort of constructs like them, to work, to help focus the energy. The Zann Esu don't practice them, we study them, but not to use. A sorceress isn't supposed to rely on anything but her own abilities. I haven't actually seen those kinds of spells in action, so perhaps it was something like that."

"No," she said, "that was all I could see…I remember feeling sort of…threatened. Not by you," she added hastily, "just the sense that, that something was happening, and I had to do something. I wish I could be clearer, but it was all jumbled up-"

"It was difficult to see," she said, "all the magic in the air…You were in your armor, the light set. You looked…not afraid. Tense, but not afraid…like I said though, it was difficult to see, so I might be wrong."

"I doubt it," Tara said, "you're pretty perceptive when it comes to what I'm feeling."

"Well, I try," Willow said bashfully. "That's just about all I could see though. You had your spear, I think – some weapon, anyway. Not your bow, though it might have been on your back, I'm not sure. Not in your hand, at any rate."

"I know it," Willow admitted, "it's not a spell, it's…it's what you get when you don't cast a spell. Just pure power, drawn from the flow of the elements and released into the world, with no form, no purpose. Normally a mage – any mage, not just sorceresses – forms a spell and draws on the power for it at the same time. We're taught, as a last-ditch measure, how to draw on power alone. Without having to form a spell, you can draw more power, but because there's no spell there's no way to control it. It's very dangerous, we're taught only to attempt it if we're absolutely sure there's no other option. We're taught how to do it, but only in minute amounts, the rest is all theory. If a sorceress draws on the full extent of her power, without controlling it, there's a fair chance she'll kill herself doing it. But it's just as destructive to anything else. It's for when you've got nothing to lose, and you're dead if you do nothing."

"Yeah," Willow nodded, "yeah, pretty much. In Entsteig, in the library when I saw Shadai, that's probably what I should have done, instead of trying to fight my way out of it and banish her. According to Zann Esu rules, anyway," she added.

"With cold magic? About half-half. According to the texts, anyway, it's not something that sorceresses experiment with. But there are times when it's had to have been done. It's supposedly impossible to do it safely, if you draw on that much power, but it can be survived. All the magic flying around would probably cause freezing, cuts, maybe disruptive internal damage. Wild magic, without a spell to shape it, can be pretty unpredictable. That's using cold, at any rate. With fire it's more predictable, but the odds of surviving are lower. Lightning…they say you never know what you'll get. Maybe vaporized, maybe tossed around like a rag doll, maybe not a scratch. It's really not the same stuff as storm lightning, it's primal energy, very unpredictable."

"Definitely," Willow said, "I doubt I could draw on much power from another element even if I threw everything into it, and anyway, I'm sure it was cold. I saw the freezing, the- I knew it. It's the magic I've been casting since I was a little girl, I should know what it feels like by now."

"Huh? No- I'm sorry," Willow shook her head, "I didn't mean it like that, it's just that…this is all so unbelievable. What I'm saying is something I- If you'd asked me yesterday, I'd have said it was impossible. But I saw it…" She trailed off and turned over, kneeling on the couch beside Tara, with no tears yet in her eyes, but her sorrow plainly written on her face.

"Why is this happening?" she asked plaintively. "Why can everyone else lead a normal life, but everywhere I turn sooner or later there's demons, or madmen, or nightmares? No, it's alright," she said with a wan smile, as Tara opened her mouth, "I know I'm just being childish, but…I'm okay."

"Here," Tara offered, opening her arms to Willow, who gratefully sank into her embrace, resting against her with her head pillowed on Tara's chest.

"I'm okay," she repeated, "I guess…it's been a bad day. I guess I just needed to vent a little."

"I understand," Tara offered, "you know, you'll get no argument from me. I wish we could just get on with our lives, instead of having to worry and deal with goddess-knows- what looming over us."

"But we don't get to choose what life throws in our path, huh?" Willow said wryly.

"No we don't," Tara sighed, "and sometimes it's a blessing, to be surprised, and enjoy unexpected moments…and sometimes," she grinned down, "it's a real pain in the butt." Willow snorted with sudden laughter.

"Well, if it were true what you've said now and then…that I could have anyone I want? Any of those people out there with normal lives, who never get chased by monsters, never have to deal with dark forces, or fight for their lives…I wouldn't. I'd choose you, over anyone else in the whole world, monster chases and all. And because I've got you in my life, I feel like the luckiest, most blessed women alive."

"Tara," Willow whispered, lifting her head. Her eyes were moist, but it was joy, not sadness, that sent the tears trickling down her cheeks now.

"I promise," she said, slowly and deliberately, meeting Tara's gaze unwaveringly, "I promise with all my heart, I am yours, a-and I'll be yours forever. No matter what happens, no matter how frightened I get, no matter how much danger the world throws at us, I promise I'll be at your side. I know I've said before I'll stay with you forever, and – not that I didn't mean it, but I guess I was just thinking of the good side of things. Well now I've…now it's tough, and now I'm promising anyway. I'm…I'm yours."

Tara smiled, bit her lip, then leaned forward and kisses Willow, very softly. Their lips brushed together like clouds, then opened, but still there was no haste and no pressure. Just love; Willow was utterly captured by the gentle kiss, and when it finally ended, when Tara leaned back again, she felt completely satisfied, and forgiven for her fears.

"I know," Tara replied, "I love you. Hey," her tone became more playful, "how about a long, hot bath before we go to bed?"

"Tell you what," Tara said, sitting up, "I happen to know you were ogling a hot young Amazon down at the barracks today. Perhaps I could arrange for her to bathe with you?"

"I can't say no to that," Willow replied, bouncing to her feet. Tara stood with her, and held her for a moment, smiling with her arms loosely around Willow's waist.

"Well…she's never far away," Willow shrugged with a smile, "you know just how to excite me." They kissed for a moment, then Tara disengaged her hug and led Willow towards the bathroom.

"I wasn't ogling," Willow pointed out half-way, "I was…discreetly observing. A casual passer-by wouldn't have noticed anything thing untoward in the way I was looking, regardless of what I was thinking."

"Well…maybe a little," Willow conceded as Tara began filling the bath, "but you know, she was a very hot Amazon. Exceptionally hot, in fact."

"You'll just have to wander down to the barracks more often," Tara suggested, "maybe you'll get to 'discreetly observe' her some more." She adjusted the water temperature, held her hand under the tap to test it, then sat on the side of the tub and gave Willow her full, appreciative attention as she undressed.

"Doing some discreet observation of your own?" Willow quipped as she swayed naked past Tara and stepped into the bath. She sank into the water with a sigh, then folded her arms on the side of the tub and rested her chin on them, watching as Tara loosened her armor.

"An Amazon should always be aware of her surroundings," she replied, "particularly people. It's amazing what you can learn, just by taking note of every subtle nuance." Willow chuckled to herself, and leaned back to turn off the tap. She glanced at the small shelf above the taps, studied the small bottles there – stealing glances back at Tara all the while – and finally selected a scented bath oil and poured a little into the water, swirling it around.

Tara shed her armor and skirt, sneaking a look at Willow over her shoulder as she stood before her, wearing only her boots and briefs. Ignoring the bench beside the bath she lifted her leg and planted her heel against the wall, at waist-height, as she undid the buckles on her boots, first one leg and then the other. Kicking the boots away under the bench, and stood with her back to Willow, hooked her thumbs into the waist of her underwear, and in one slow, elegant motion leaned down, dragging them over the curve of her bottom, down her legs, and finally letting them fall around her ankles.

"Beautiful," Willow murmured, "you'll be pleased to know I took careful note of each and every subtle nuance."

By virtue of already having the soap and washcloth ready, Willow bathed Tara first, making no secret of her appreciation for her body as she ran her hands all over her, nor making much effort to conceal her interest in Tara beyond bathing her, as her hands lingered in all the right places, and touched in just the right ways. By the time she handed the washcloth to Tara and settled back into her arms, they were both thoroughly at ease, giving and receiving physical contact as easily as the time of day.

"Want to hear a story?" Tara offered, as Willow lay back against her, arching her back slightly as Tara caressed her chest and stomach. At an affirmative murmur, Tara grinned and went on:

"Many, many years ago…when Athulua and Kethryes wandered the harsh lands of the old warlords and chieftains, gathering their following of the downtrodden, the enslaved, the persecuted, all those who hoped for a better life. They had traveled for years, and had been joined by many others – Zerae, Hefaetrus, Karcheus, Elasia, Anishe, Jamaron, dozens of them, who all now watch over the Amazons from their homes in the world beyond, as our gods and goddesses. But this was when they were just men and women, gathered together in search of the chance for a new life. More than anything they wanted a homeland, somewhere to build their homes, plant their crops, raise their families and not have to worry about where they would find shelter next. But no-one would take them – wherever they went, the rulers were distrustful of them, and would not allow them to make homes on their land unless they agreed to abide by the old, unjust laws that demanded some live as slaves, some be condemned for their choices…so they journeyed farther and farther, hoping to find their home somewhere over the horizon.

"Karcheus, who had traveled much in his young life, and whose keen eyes and ears had revealed many rumors and secrets to him, had once heard of a man he believed could help them, called Misiya, the mariner, a man from far away, who because of his foreign ways and appearance was mistrusted in all the ports he put into. But his home was the sea, which he was master of, and it was said that if he wished he could sail around the world, and never lose his way. Athulua led her people to the mouth of the river Tiera, where rumor said Misiya could be found. They made camp outside the city and waited, and on the eighth day a strange ship came into view, unlike any of those at anchor in the harbor. She was Misiya's ship, the Valkyrie, and the mariner himself was at her helm.

"Learning of the plight of Athulua's people, he agreed that he would join them, for a while at least, and carry them on the Valkyrie to the far-off land of Westmarch, where they hoped to find a kind ruler who would allow them to settle and make their homes. But as they loaded their supplies and livestock aboard, a priest of the sea god Marvulla, from the city, appeared, calling on Misiya to give up his ship. The priest said that only men of the city and river were worthy of Marvulla's blessing, and demanded that Misiya and his new crew of refugees disband and abandon their journey. Misiya refused, and so the priest cursed him. 'I call on Marvulla,' he said, pointing his gnarled old staff at Misiya and his ship, 'If you and your unclean vessel take to the seas on this voyage, a great storm shall arise and beset you, your ship will be destroyed, and you shall never see the shores of Westmarch.'"

"Misiya scorned the priest," Tara went on, smiling, "but later he went to Athulua and Kethryes, and confided his fears. The sea was a treacherous mistress, he said, and a curse was no laughing matter – even a mariner such as himself would be powerless if the sea turned against them. Athulua and Kethryes listened to him, and then talked with their people, and they agreed that they would rather set forth, following their own path in spite of the scorn of others, than turn back and return to the lives they had once known, governed by cruel and unjust rulers. They said to Misiya that, if he still wished to make the voyage, they could sail with him.

"Dark clouds were already gathering above the far horizon, but nonetheless Misiya took his ship out and set a course for Westmarch, trusting his instincts to guide them to a land which would not even be visible for many weeks. But as the priest warned, the clouds grew to a storm, the sea churned, and huge waves tossed the Valkyrie, sending her far off course. Misiya fought with all his might and guile, but as he had feared the sea was far stronger than any man or ship. Farther and farther they were driven by the storm, far out into the sea, away from any land on Misiya's charts, and the Valkyrie began to creak and groan, her old, trusty timbers battered by the massive waves.

"On the sixth night of the voyage, Misiya finally came to believe that they were doomed, for the storm showed no sign of abating, and his precious Valkyrie was on the verge of breaking apart, her hull leaking, her sails in tatters, her masts cracked or fallen. But just when all seemed lost, and Athulua's people feared they would never see land again, a strange fire surrounded the Valkyrie, keeping her from being broken, and she surged forwards, as if steering herself. And then, in waters that had never been charted, they saw a shore, and Misiya guided his ailing ship to land, sustained by the strange magic around her just long enough to carry her crew to safety. I bet you know where they were, don't you?"

"So, the nasty old sea god's curse came true, but the Amazons found their homeland anyway," Willow murmured. "I like the sound of that story."

"I thought you might," Tara said, gently stroking Willow's hair. "I know it's hardly the same thing, but…you never know what might happen. That was just a vague curse, whereas, well, what you saw didn't leave much room for interpretation. I don't blame you for fearing the worst. But just remember how much you love me. I don't think that leaves any 'room for interpretation'." She gave Willow a supportive smile. "Between fate, and your love, I know which one I trust more."

"You're a goddess," Willow murmured, smiling and shaking her head, "no matter how much I need you, you're strong for me."

"I do my best," Tara said with a bashful grin. "I'm sure, sooner or later, I'll need you to be strong for me, and you will be."

"I liked that story," Willow said again, as she and Tara dried each other off. "Is Misiya one of your gods as well?"

"Oh yes," Tara nodded, "we're not a big ocean-going people, but we sail between the islands, and there's a few captains who take their ships further, to reach Westmarch or the Twin Seas, and they always offer a prayer for Misiya to guide them safely on their journey, and back home. They say he shines as the brightest star in the sky, and all ships can steer by his light."

"That's the one," Tara replied, "we call it the Mariner, after Misiya. And his ship, the Valkyrie, gave its name to Athulua's handmaidens."

"I remember you telling me about them," Willow noted. She and Tara hung up their towels, gathered their clothes and returned to the bedroom, preparing for sleep. Once Willow has slipped under the covers, Tara quickly donned a robe and pulled the bell-cord for Lissa, who appeared at the door and took their empty dinner plates.

"Miss," she asked, "is everything alright? I don't mean to pry, but…Miss Willow seemed upset earlier…? Is she alright?"

"She's had…troubling news," Tara said, "but we're okay. Thanks for asking." She gave Lissa a grateful look, then turned from her relieved grin and met Willow's gaze, sharing a warm moment with her.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The early morning sun was hazy in the distance, hidden behind scattered clouds to the east, but its light glittered off the Kingsway river like a trail of stars left over from the night. Being the only customers in the tavern who had stayed the night, rather than returned home at the waning of the evening, Willow and Tara had the common room to themselves, and had taken a table by a window, looking out over the square and the gently sloping landscape beyond.

Tara had brought one of the copies she had been given of the army's maps, and spread it out on the table while Willow picked a few pieces of fruit from the counter and left a silver on the bar as payment. She set the bowl down on the corner of the map, keeping it from rolling up again, and sat next to Tara.

"We're here," she noted, pointing to the tiny dot marked 'Laban', surrounded by a handful of carefully-inscribed symbols.

"That's us," Tara nodded, "and a day's ride due south…" Her hand brushed Willow's in passing, on its way to point out Kotram, where the monastery and its five surrounding villages were marked.

"I think we'd best leave it for tomorrow," Tara said, "we could get there, but it'd be late by the time we arrived – I know it wouldn't make a difference underground, but I don't really want us to go down there at night. We'd be tired, for one thing."

"And some kinds of demons are more powerful at night," Willow added, "whereas I don't think there's any west of the Aranoch desert that prefer the daytime. Even underground, that can make a difference to demons. So where do we spend the night?"

"We've got two choices," Tara said, tracing the routes on the map as she spoke. "Either we head straight for the monastery, on the high ground, and camp on the plateau for the night – there's shallow valleys along there, so we could probably find somewhere out of the way, and make it safe enough to sleep in if we're careful. Then we go straight to the monastery in the morning. We'll have a good view in both directions, the ridge the monastery is on is high enough to overlook the nearer valleys to the west, and we'll be able to see for miles along the plain below the cliff to the east."

"Giving us a good chance of spotting any roving packs of demons well before they get near us," Willow nodded. "What's the other option?"

"If we veer east," Tara said, pointing, "we could come around the northern edge of the cliff, where the plain comes up to reach the plateau. Then we go along the base of the cliff and camp there for the night. This map has several good sites marked."

"We go in through the eastern tunnel," Tara suggested. "Unless something's happened since we were last there we know it's intact and safe, and the fact that the village at the end was pretty much destroyed means it's unlikely any demons will have made a camp there, like they did in the western village when we were on our way through before. We follow the tunnel straight to that locked entrance we found, and go into the catacombs from there. If there's anything in the monastery itself we'll bypass it completely."

"But safer, I think," Tara pointed out. "Unless something actually comes up to the cliff and looks over the edge, nothing to the west will ever know we're there. And there's a slight rise between the base of the cliff and the plain, running almost as far as the village. We'd be hidden from anything east as well."

"And we can stop now and then and take a peek over the rise to see if there's anything out there," Willow said, "good plan. What about when we approach the ruined village, though? If there's anything in the monastery they'll see us."

"They'd see us just the same if we came in from the west. It's a risk either way."

"If we spend the night here," Tara said, pointing to a marked site at the base of the cliff, three miles from the monastery atop it, "she'll recognize that as our camp site, provided it's clear to her. Then we ride as far as the rise goes south, continue to the village on foot, and she'll go back and wait for us at the camp. She understands the commands for that."

"I think it's got more advantages than going west, along the top of the cliff," Tara nodded. "Normally I'd say the high ground is best, but this is an unusual situation – and we're not trying to win a battle, we're trying to avoid one."

"I agree," Willow grin, "besides, you're the only one of us who's really trained for this sort of thing."

"You're good enough for me," Willow said firmly. "Now, what happens if we run into some company of the demonic variety?"

"Well, if what the Duncraig scouts reported holds true, there aren't any highly organized bands roaming the countryside. Probably some will have stayed together, for hunting and protection…do they do that?"

"Usually," Willow nodded, "at least if they encounter others of the same kind, most demons are more likely to band together than fight. Only a very powerful master can stop infighting among different kinds of demons – Shadai could, but only if she were already here. From the ethereal plane her ability to control lesser demons must be weaker than if she'd manifested – it'd be more suggestion, really, rather than control. Even if she is able to reach far enough to influence other demons, if a bunch of goat-men ran into a tribe of Carvers I'm pretty sure their instincts would just take over and they'd try to kill each other."

"Good," Tara said, "so basically, we're dealing with belligerent predators, not soldiers."

"For our purposes, yes," Tara grinned wryly. "If we run into a lone demon and kill it it's far less likely that any others will realize it's missing. They'll be hunting for food, not patrolling, which means we've got a better chance of avoiding being seen. And if one group does realize there's humans around, they won't send word to any others."

"You're right," Willow agreed, "but remember there's Shadai herself – whatever she's planning she won't want us interfering."

"All the more reason to go unnoticed," Tara pointed out. "Aside from anyone serving her directly, could she use other demons, the goat-men and Carvers? If we run into them, will she know?" Willow frowned in thought.

"It's possible," she said, "to what extent I don't know…the ethereal realm throws it all into doubt. There's creatures native to the realms, but Shadai isn't, so it's impossible to be sure what affect that will have on her exactly. If I had to guess – which I guess I do," she added with a shrug and a smile, "I'd say she won't be able to focus, if you get what I mean…if we run into a lone demon and kill it quickly, she won't know. If we run into a whole tribe and spend half a day with them chasing us, she could pick up on their awareness of us. Like you said, going unnoticed is good."

"If any of those blood hawk things show up, I should try to shoot them down?" Tara asked.

"That'd be my bet," Willow replied. "I'll use what spells I've got to try to give us some early warning of concentrations of demons, so we can avoid or ambush them, depending on how many there are. If we do it right, I think we could make it – all we need to worry about are the catacombs. Whatever Shadai's managed to bind to her service, human or demon, that's where they'll be."

"Close quarters," Tara mused, "between your magic and mine, I don't think we have to worry about being outnumbered down there."

"Some of those vaults we saw were pretty expansive," Willow pointed out, "it wouldn't be that different to fighting on open ground."

"We'll have to do our best to stick to tunnels and smaller chambers," Tara said, "we'll have the advantage there, over groups of demons at any rate. If we run into something individually powerful, like a demon champion, or a mage…" she shrugged.

"That's not unlikely," Willow said gloomily. Tara nodded, then squared her shoulders.

"We'll deal with it if it happens," she said firmly, "no-one gives my baby nightmares and gets away with it." Willow gave a chuckle, and leant over to rest her forehead against Tara's.

"Time to go," Tara replied. Willow leant back, but Tara quickly reached out and caught her around the waist, gently keeping her from getting up.

"I know this is difficult," she whispered, "I haven't seen what you've seen, I haven't stood face to face with a demon like Shadai…I can't know what it's like the way you do. But I know she scares you more than anything else, and I can see how incredibly brave you are, to go out there." She leant forward and pressed a gentle, tender kiss to Willow's lips.

Willow found that, if she kept her eyes on the horizon ahead, she wasn't bothered at all by the speed she and Tara were riding at. To reach the point where the river plain came up to meet the highlands they had had to leave the road, and though the ground was good, its dips and curves made it far more difficult for Willow to ignore the fact that she was astride a very tall, very powerful horse.

On the uneven ground, Anji had seemed to want to adopt a slightly quicker pace than she had on the road, and with Willow's rueful agreement Tara had let her. Hedges and occasional trees flashed by on either side as they followed a wide trail – Willow found that whenever she looked, the reminder of their speed made her far more anxious than she thought she should be, rationally speaking. Ahead, though, the view was quite bearable, as the trail snaked this way and that, and the rest of the scenery slowly slid to one side or the other, out of sight and comfortably out of mind.

"Feeling okay?" Tara asked, raising her voice slightly to overcome the sound of Anji's hooves thundering along the packed earth.

"Been better," Willow replied, "but could be worse. No problem." It helped her to hear Tara's voice, with its carefully reined-in joy. She could hear – could feel, the way Tara held her, strong but not at all tense – how much she was enjoying the ride. Intellectually, she herself could see what the appeal would be, the thrill of their speed, much like the way she had been enjoying their progress the day before, on the road proper. But hearing Tara's voice, alive with excitement, gave Willow a measure of real understanding – for a moment, she felt exhilarated too.

Tara switched the reins to one hand for a moment, offering a comforting caress over Willow's exposed side, then she took the reins firmly in both hands again, and leaned forward to speak close to Willow's ear.

"Of course," Willow said, wondering. She felt a quick kiss just below her ear, then Tara leaned forward in the saddle, her leather-clad breasts pressing close against Willow's back.

"Why…?" Willow asked, keeping her eyes fixed ahead. Her hands nevertheless firmly gripped the saddle ahead of her, and between their hold and Tara's arms to either side of her, she felt at least confident that her falling was quite unlikely.

'What's she up to-' Willow began to wonder, before her thoughts were cut off by Tara gently tugging on the reins, turning Anji off the trail and into a neighboring field. The ground was firm enough, and empty, the harvest having passed already for whatever crop had basked here during the summer – all that remained was acre after acre of bare soil, with grass sprouting here and there, and the hedges and low wooden fences marking the boundaries between one field and the next.

'Okay, don't panic, Tara's got me, I'm perfectly safe,' Willow silently recited to herself.

"What're we…" Willow began, then trailed off as she saw a hedge ahead of them, approaching at speed. Tara leaned forward more, her body intimately pressed against Willow's back, almost hugging her but for her forearms, still holding the reins.

"Hold tight," she whispered in Willow's ear, urging Anji on to a full-speed charge.

"Eep!" Willow squeaked as the horse's muscles bunched and she launched herself into the air. For a moment it seemed to Willow as though they had taken to the sky, left the ground far behind – the wind still whipped at her hair and gusted against her eyes, their motion was unchecked, but there were no hoof beats, no contact with the ground. Then Anji made a perfect landing, galloping along without breaking stride in the least.

"Ah!" Willow exclaimed, letting go a breath she had held since the jump. Making up for lost time she took two deep breaths in quick succession, then craned her neck around to see Tara, still close behind her.

'What do I think?' Willow wondered madly. 'That was…was…' The tight knot of tension in her unwound, letting her feel the emotions bound up in it. 'That was…'

"Wow!" she yelled, startling herself. Tara's smile broadened, relief added to exhilaration.

"I didn't scare you?" she asked, almost sheepishly now that the excitement was abating a little.

"I…no," Willow shook her head, "no, startled maybe, not scared…wow!" She looked around, suddenly feeling a tremendous sense of vitality at seeing the world rushing by, no matter where she looked. Unbidden, laughter welled up out of her, laughter filled with joy and exhilaration.

"What do you say, girl?" Tara asked, looking past Willow at Anji's alert ears and streaming mane. "Shall we give her another thrill?" The horse seemed eager coming up to the next hedge, and again Willow laughed as they leapt over it, this time expecting and fully enjoying the moment when their ties to the earth and everything on it were, for a brief instant, forgotten.

After three more jumps Tara steered Anji back to the trail, and she resumed her comfortable gallop towards the distant river plain. Willow, still trembling with excitement, twisted around and reached behind her to embrace Tara as best she could and, when she leaned forward, kissed her passionately. Tara merely opened her mouth and let Willow assault her senses with her lips and tongue, fumbling with the reins to free one hand, to return Willow's half- embrace. Willow felt like she could keep kissing forever – the energy in her body surged as her lips moved against Tara's, their tongues caressed each other, and at last, when they finally opened their eyes and parted, the naked desire in Tara's stare made her squirm in the saddle.

"I feel…" Willow began, staring around blissfully at the speeding landscape, "I feel like I can fly! Thank you. How did you know?"

"You've got good instincts," Willow said, tightening the arm she had managed to get around Tara's waist. "Great instincts. Especially when it comes to me."

"You seemed so tense," Tara said, grinning her lop-sided grin, "I thought…I hoped the excitement would open you up to the experience."

"You were right," Willow smiled, genuine gratitude in her voice, "I mean, I don't know about riding solo, but with you behind me…I feel good now. Better than good. That was amazing!" She kissed Tara again, carefree and intimate, feeling a kind of privacy in the miles of unoccupied fields surrounding them.

"Mmm," Tara purred when they parted, "so…now that I've got you excited, what do I do with you?"

"Seeing as you're so good at opening me up to new experiences," Willow grinned gleefully, "I'd say you can do whatever you want with me…how long until we stop for lunch?"

"A little further," Tara said. "I was wondering though…did you ever wonder what it'd be like to make love on horseback?"

"Me? Heh, up until now I never thought anything about being on horseback- really?" Her surprise turned to desire as Tara continued to subject her to her aroused scrutiny. "You wanna try?" she grinned slyly.

"If you do," Tara nodded slightly, "you bet I do…turn back around." Willow obediently adjusted herself in the saddle, facing forwards once more.

"You like it now?" Tara breathed in her ear. "The speed, the power…no more fear?"

"Hold the reins," Tara offered, bringing her hands to Willow's, "don't worry, she knows where we're going, just hold them loose, like this…that's good."

"Oh, that's good," Willow smiled in reply, as Tara's arms circled her torso and her hands flattened on her stomach, stroking back and forth rhythmically, matching the tempo of the hooves beneath them. She glanced back, meeting Tara's gaze, biting her lip partly from anticipation, partly just from the pleasure of Tara's caresses.

"Look ahead," Tara prompted, "look at the road…everything moving so fast…look at the sky all around you."

Willow obediently turned her gaze back to the expansive vista surrounding them. For a few miles the trail followed the shallow peak of a rise between the fields, so that nothing obstructed the view in every direction of the land stretching out to the distant horizon. Tara's hands moved lower; Willow's head tilted back, her gaze reaching into the sky. The exhilaration she felt as Tara moved lower, one hand cupping her mound through the fabric of her skirt, was unparalleled.

"Mmmyeah," she smiled, as she felt Tara loosen her belt and slip her hand inside it. Her other hand moved back up, teasing the edge of her top, brushing against the undersides of her breasts.

At the same moment Willow felt Tara's questing fingers slide down to her sex, index and middle finger either side of her eager clit, squeezing slightly, and Tara's lips against the side of her neck, kissing and licking and nuzzling as she slowly caressed her elsewhere.

"I love you," Willow murmured, as Tara's now-moist fingers danced across her aroused sex, causing her body to shudder with every heartbeat. She turned again, seeking Tara's lips, and sighed lovingly as Tara gifted her with a deep, intense kiss. When she drew back, Willow couldn't keep herself from moaning at the sight of her – warm, loving, sexy, her grin promising endless pleasures.

"I love…that s- smile," she gasped, finding it a great effort even to speak – Tara's fingers between her legs were exercising all their skill, and Willow felt light as air, as if the pounding of her heart, and the horse's hooves beneath them, might be enough to life her into the sky.

"Th-that smile," Willow managed, "the one that's…like…oh goddess!" she exclaimed as Tara's forefinger slipped teasingly into her. Held securely in Tara's arms, her body rocked back and forth as they galloped headlong.

"Like…like you're…tying me up with…silk ribbons…kissing me everywhere…except where I most want you t-to…kiss…mmm…" Her head fell back, resting on Tara's shoulder as she whispered to her, raising her voice just enough to be heard over the thudding of Anji's hooves.

"A-and…teasing…until I…I'm gasping…pleading for y-you…to make love to me…that smile…t-the one that…that says I-I'm yours…"

Tara's free hand worked its way beneath Willow's top, firmly gripping at her breasts, her nails scraping light trails over her skin, while beneath, making Willow's hands clench painfully tight on the reins, she reached into her and brought forth her first release, with a playful ease that promised it wouldn't be her last.

Anji's enthusiasm for her morning galloping brought them to the edge of the river plain just before midday, slightly earlier than Tara had expected, allowing a leisurely lunch. Willow made sandwiches from their packed bread, and tomatoes and lettuce she had bought from the tavern in Laban, and Tara had laughed lightly as she had apologized for not being able to take the time to prepare anything more elaborate.

"They're lovely," she said, through her first mouthful, "besides," she went on after swallowing, "I know where I can find a very tasty dessert."

"Don't be too greedy," Willow grinned back, "we can't stop long, and I need my dessert too."

Both were very satisfied on that score by the time Tara called Anji over from her idle grazing, and they once more took to the saddle, descending into the shadow of the cliff to their right as they followed its base. As the afternoon wore on the trail became rougher until it petered out completely, and the sun dipped further towards the western horizon, casting a greater and greater shadow over the land around the two travelers.

Twice during the afternoon they stopped, the first time for Willow to scratch a pattern in the soil and read from one of her scrolls, giving her a momentary awareness of living things around herself. She had had to exercise some self- control not to stare at Tara, who took on a radiant aura while the spell held – when she turned her attention elsewhere, the subtle degradation of the grasslands and woods was plain, increasing in the direction they were headed. But there were, at least, no great concentrations of the sickly malaise nearby, such as would indicate a gathering of demons.

The second time they paused in their journey was at a stream fed by a trickle coming over the cliff – once Willow had found the water pure they had refilled the waterskin they had used, and let Anji drink to her heart's content. Tara's map noted a path to the top of the cliff nearby, and Willow had reluctantly stayed down below with Anji while Tara had found the winding path and clambered to the top, to take in the lie of the land as best she could.

It was barely a few minutes before she returned, puffing from the effort of climbing up and down, but otherwise untroubled. Nonetheless Willow hugged her warmly, relieved simply to be within sight of her again. Understanding, Tara had returned the hug and stroked Willow's hair lovingly until she had finally released her and stepped back.

"I can't see the monastery," she said as they prepared to move on, "there's a haze today, but I saw pretty far. There's been a fire in one of the valleys to the southwest, I saw the burned trees on the top of the rise, and there's still a little smoke. Days old, though, I'm sure it's not more recent than that."

"I didn't see anything nearby though," Tara said, with a lift in her voice as she switched to the good news, "I think our path's clear down here. It was a bit more difficult to see straight across the highlands, but it looked pretty empty as well. Some birds far off to the west, but too far to see whether they were natural, or blood hawks. I'm sure they didn't see me, whatever they were. I'll keep an eye on the skies, though."

"How're you feeling down here?" she asked impishly, giving Willow's bottom a gentle squeeze as they waited for the horse to amble towards them.

"You should know," Willow shot back with a sly grin, "you've taken every opportunity today to feel it. Fine…a bit sore, but not so bad as yesterday."

"By the time we get back it'll be as if you were born in the saddle," Tara smiled.

"Yeah? Sounds like a tricky kind of operation," Willow quipped. With Tara's help she got astride Anji, and smiled as Tara mounted behind her.

"Remind me to explain 'figure of speech' to you sometime," Tara replied with a grin, twitching the reins to get them moving.

"My problem," Willow said, tilting her head to one side, "is that I've always got my mind on 'figure of Amazon'. Other figures just don't get a look in."

"It doesn't matter, you couldn't 'fix' it if you tried," Willow grinned over her shoulder. "Everything you do has exactly the opposite effect – I just fall more and more in love with you."

"You're not the only one," Tara murmured, pressing a kiss to the back of Willow's neck. "Oh, hey – you just said 'fall' without blinking."

"I did," Willow noted, "there you go, you've done the impossible. I can ride a horse without a second thought. Must be all that special encouragement you give me, I'm really starting to enjoy being in the saddle."

"Ah, is that right…" Willow shrugged. "So now that it's worked, does that mean you won't need to ravish me up here anymore?"

"Just you wait," Tara promised, releasing the reins with one hand to stroke Willow's waist, "on our way back, the moment we're on safe ground, I'll show you what 'ravish' really means."

They reached the area the map marked as a safe camp site just as the edges of the clouds above began to redden in the sunset. A dried-up creek bed led through a narrow defile between fallen boulders, the remnant of some ancient rockslide. Willow and Tara dismounted and went through on foot, Willow leading Anji by her reins, Tara just ahead, alert for any sign of danger, with her spear held in a deceptively casual grip. Through the rocks was a narrow clearing, walled in on one side by the cliff, overgrown with grasses. A smooth trail had been eroded down the cliff face, showing where water had once flowed, but whatever stream had fed the creek had obviously dried up long ago – plants clung to ledges where the water had trickled down, their roots clinging firmly to the layers of dirt that had built up there.

"Over here," Tara pointed. Behind one of several small, stunted trees growing beside the cliff was a small cave, almost to small to bear the name. It led only a few meters into the rock, just above head height until the last meter where it narrowed to its end, but it was dry, shielded from the elements by the hunched-over tree at its mouth, and a layer of earth had settled over time over its stone floor, though little grass had taken root there.

"From a Duke's guest room, to a plain bed in a tavern, to this," Willow said with a wry smile. "You know, I think we're traveling in the wrong direction."

"We've slept in worse," Tara pointed out, even as she shared a sympathetic sigh with Willow. "At least we'll be out of the wind. And there's enough room outside for Anji."

"What do you think of the place?" Willow asked, taking a glance around the small clearing. "Defensively, I mean?"

"Promising," Tara replied, "I can't see any sign of people or demons having been here recently. We can climb up to the top of these boulders if we need to see out, and it's pretty flat around here, so from there we'll be able to see anything coming pretty far off. But I doubt we'll be found, I don't think anything more than a few small animals comes in here."

"It's not obvious from the outside," Willow agreed, "I didn't really see anything until you pointed it out."

"Not much to see from the outside," Tara nodded. "Not much to see, period. But it'll do for the night."

"I'll set up a couple of spells," Willow said, as she and Tara unloaded their bags from Anji's saddle. "These boulders will actually help, I'm pretty sure I can set up a sympathetic harmony with a couple of rune stones, which'll make the boulders themselves part of a perimeter spell. If anything demonic or hybrid breaks the perimeter we'll feel like someone splashed cold water on us. Not the most pleasant way to wake up, if it happens at night, but better safe than sorry."

"Do you think we'll both be able to sleep?" Tara asked. Willow gave it serious thought.

"I'd like to," she said, "I suppose, if it's safe…how confident are you that this place is off the beaten track, that nothing'll turn up during the night?"

"I think we're covered from the magical side of things," Willow said, "all things considered…I think we could. You don't think it's too much of a risk?"

"I think it's a very small risk," Tara shrugged, "I think the worst that can happen is that we'll be woken up in the middle of the night and have to either check the camp, or fight something. But with your magic I don't think we'll be caught off guard, which is the important thing. And…I'd feel better if we slept together."

"Not only because you always make me feel better," Tara smiled, "also, we'll both be well rested tomorrow. I don't think we should go into the catacombs on half a night's sleep, and with one of us having just stayed up to keep watch. And I…" she paused and grinned sheepishly. "I want to fall asleep with you tonight, and wake up tomorrow with you cuddled up against me."

"I guess I'm nervous," Tara admitted, "under the circumstances, I suppose it's sensible to be apprehensive, but only to a point."

"I know what you mean," Willow said, putting her arms around Tara's waist, "I know I'm way more nervous than you…I think, if the first thing I'm aware of tomorrow is your arms around me, and I open my eyes to see you smiling at me, I'll feel like I could take on anything in the world. I think that'll be a good, positive attitude to take into a difficult day."

"And I just love sleeping with you," Willow echoed, "in every sense of the phrase." She leaned forward to bring her lips to Tara's, and gave her a slow, satisfying kiss, taking her time in tasting her lover's mouth, teasingly flicking her tongue out once, then again, to make contact with Tara's.

"Mmm," Tara sighed as their lips parted, "just remember…we're supposed to be actually sleeping tonight." Willow grinned, then couldn't keep herself from laughing.

The two enjoyed a teasing, rambling conversation over an early dinner, making sure they had their camp made and their backpacks ready for the next day's expedition before the sunlight finally vanished from the sky. Before seeking the comfort of the small cave, Willow climbed up the side of one of the boulders, peering out into the gloom beyond before turning her gaze south, where, hidden by the cliff's curving edge, the monastery waited. She half expected to see some sign of the malevolence the place had taken in her mind – dark clouds gathering overhead, or the glow of savage firelight – but the night seemed as calm as any other. With a quiet sigh she climbed back down, and gave Anji a final pat before joining Tara in the tiny cave.

"Do you want a robe to sleep in?" Tara asked. Willow thought for a moment, then shook her head.

"Let's just put on all the blankets we've got," she said, "I want to feel you against me. If we get roused and I have to fight a demon naked, so be it."

"That makes two of us," Tara said, with a smile just visible by the hesitant moonlight from outside. Despite her nerves, Willow couldn't help but cast several lingering, admiring glances at Tara as she undressed, despite being able to see so little. What she could see, the edges of curves highlighted by silver moonlight, was more than beautiful. Quickly disrobing and folding her clothes, she pulled their extra blankets across the bedroll Tara had laid out, and looked up as Tara knelt beside her and lay down.

"It's going to be a chilly night," she noted, pulling the blankets tight around them both. Willow nodded, already feeling the cold of the evening touching her exposed face.

"Darned demons," she said quietly, "why can't they wait to threaten the world during the summer?" Tara's arms went around her, and she held her close, her hands stroking up and down Willow's back in soothing motions. Despite herself, Willow couldn't help but feel tense as they lay silently, with just a single night now between them and the dangers of the catacombs.

"I know," Willow grinned, letting out a breath, "just…heh, nothing you don't know already. Pre-adventure jitters."

"Anything I can do?" Tara asked quietly. Willow was silent for a moment, then spoke again.

"Tell me about our house?" she asked. "The one you mentioned, by the lake…that we'll live in when we go home to the islands. Please?" Tara nodded, her forehead brushing against Willow's, and raised a hand to gently stroke her hair.

"There's a little pond," she whispered, "sort of a tiny lake, with wild flowers growing around it, and a row of young trees, between it and the rest of the big lake on one side. I learned to swim in that little lake, and spent days learning the names of all the flowers around it. Even in winter it never gets very cold, you can always go out in the evening and lie on the grass and look up at the stars, or watch the moonlight on the water.

"The house is just next to that, you literally step out of the back door and you're among the flowers. There's four rooms – the dining room is the largest, with a stone fireplace and chimney, and a big, old lounge opposite it with lots of cushions all over it, so comfortable you could easily just fall asleep on it. Then there's the kitchen, and from there you go out the back to the lake. The bathroom is off the bedroom, there's a big old bed in there, made from sturdy, solid beams of wood, with a thick mattress and lovely soft blankets and pillows…There's a little fireplace there, using the same chimney as the dining room, and you can have just a tiny fire going and the whole room is beautifully warm."

"I was thinking, when we finally get there, we'll have a couple of additions made. I'd like an outdoors deck, facing the lake on one side…with light wooden screens so we can open them and eat our breakfast out there, and be warmed by the morning sun…or, you know, if we closed the screens, our little lake would really be quite private…the house below it, the deck on one side, and the trees growing to the other side…no-one would be able to see in…we could get up to all sorts of things…"

"And," Tara went on, "I thought, also, one more room…for you, a library. With lots of shelves for all the books you'll collect, and a big desk you can cover with experiments and papers and all kinds of things…and a couch, where you can sit and read your ancient tomes of arcane wisdom…and I can come in and lie on the couch, with my head in your lap, and watch that lovely, intense expression you get when you're reading…"

Tara paused, and felt the regular rhythm of Willow's chest moving against hers, her breathing the slow, sedate pattern of sleep. She leaned up just enough to brush her lips against Willow's forehead, then settled down, embraced by Willow and embracing her in turn, both comfortable in their little cocoon of warmth amid the dark wilderness.

Willow's feet were cold – had slipped near a wrinkle in the blankets sometime during the night, where a soft, chilly breeze was playing over her toes – but she didn't want to move. She was watching Tara sleep. Watching, listening, experiencing with all her senses. Studying her beautiful face, so serene and peaceful, absolutely bereft of worry or sadness in sleep. Hearing the quiet sighing of each breath, even the occasional contented murmur from somewhere within her dreams – every time her ears caught such a sound, Willow couldn't help but smile. In their mutual embrace, Willow felt the constant, gentle rise and fall of her chest as she breathed, warmed as Tara's soft bosom pressed against her own.

'I won't lose you,' she thought, her gaze caressing Tara's features. 'I can't lose you, and I won't let anything take me from you, I promise.'

"Hey," she whispered. Willow searched for her voice, but lost as she was in those eyes, she could only lean closer and brush her lips against Tara's.

"The best," Willow replied. Tara rolled onto her back, and Willow rested her head down among the blankets, on her chest – and took the opportunity to withdraw her feet from the niggling draft. She smiled and made a tiny sound of joy as Tara's fingers wove through her hair, stroking her.

"We'll have a lot more mornings like this," Tara whispered, with utter certainty.

An hour after dawn Willow and Tara were fed, bathed – as best they could with a washcloth and Willow condensing cold water into a hollow in the rock – and dressed for traveling. Each wore their two charms around a thin leather cord around their necks, and Willow had Marela's amulet tucked beneath the silver clasp on her left wrist, ready at a moment's notice. Tara went outside to pack enough supplies to get them back to a village in Anji's saddlebags, and conceal the rest of their gear as best she could, wrapping their camp packs in a waterproof cloth and half-burying them near the rock face, under the shelter of one of the stunted little trees. She and Willow had agreed that it would be better to travel light on their expedition into the catacombs. Her own pack, straps tightened to make it smaller, sat in the small of her back beneath her quivers, and contained little more than bandages and herbs for treating injuries, unappetizing trail rations, and a map of the monastery and its surrounding area.

'For all the good it will be once we're underground,' she thought with a wry smile. With a pat on the nose for Anji, who had stood patiently by while her bags were adjusted, Tara turned back to their tiny cave and ducked inside.

Willow was sitting cross-legged on the stone, her staff across her knees. She was quite ready – her battlegear immaculately arranged, the pouches on her belt evenly spaced, her slim backpack strapped on tightly - but a hesitant frown marred her features, and she didn't look up as Tara came close and knelt beside her. In her hands was the metal disc, the Hellebore key, and she was slowly turning it over and over, her eyes moving across its flawless surface.

"Sweetie," Tara said softly – not a question so much as a quiet reminder of her presence, and the support and love she offered. Willow nodded once, her eyes briefly closing. Tara sat beside her and gently stroked her cheek, brushing lightly through her hair. Willow leant into the touch, taking a deep breath at Tara's caress.

"Are we doing the right thing?" she asked eventually. Tara took a breath and exhaled, marshalling an honest answer.

"I don't know," she admitted, "I think so…by everything I know, I believe we are. That's all we can ever do, the best we can, according to what we know."

"There's so much we don't," Willow noted, though her voice wasn't despondent, simply a statement of fact.

"There always will be," Tara nodded, "the world's too huge and complicated for anyone to know everything."

"So everything we do is just the best we can at the time," Willow continued, "otherwise, we'd never do anything…" She gave a shrug. "Normally it wouldn't bother me, but…Hellebore is awesome, dreadful power. I…I could be holding that power in my hands, right now – the key to it all." She finally looked at Tara, with a rueful smile. "Holding that kind of power has a way of making you think twice."

"No argument there," Tara said, running a playful hand through Willow's hair. "But we need this to get into the lower levels of the catacombs. And if there is power there, then I'd rather it be in your hands than anyone else's." Willow held her gaze for a moment, drawing strength, then nodded.

"Okay, no, but you know what I mean," Willow said, as they walked outside, "we need it, but we're taking a risk bringing it here. No matter what happens, this disc doesn't leave your or my hands. If I…can't cast at it, for whatever reason, your lightning will do the trick. Or one of the ice arrows." She cocked her head to one side as Tara brought Anji over. "I'm not sure about your fire magic, how hot can you get?"

"I thought you knew that already?" Tara said with an arched eyebrow. Willow grinned, then laughed.

"Okay, I walked into that one," she admitted. Tara helped her up into the saddle, then mounted behind her.

"For the record," she purred, leaning close to Willow's ear, "I can get as hot as you can handle." She gave a quick kiss to the side of her neck, then leaned back. "That goes for arrows, too. It wouldn't be the kind of thing I'd want to do in an enclosed space, but if there's no choice I can do a blast that'll damage that thing."

"Good," Willow said, "we can't lose this, even if that means we have to destroy it and turn back."

"Make sure you keep a hold of it, then," Tara suggested, "I for one don't intend to leave this place until we've settled this. No demon gives my girl nightmares and gets away with it."

Half an hour later they had ridden south, and the ridge on their eastern side had all but petered out. Willow could feel the tension slowly growing in Tara's arms on either side of her, though she continued to hold the reins loosely. With a twitch of the reins she slowed Anji to a walk, and finally to a halt.

"We walk from here," Tara nodded, giving Willow's waist a comforting squeeze before sliding from the saddle and helping her down. Willow glanced up at the cliff face, where the barest slice of the monastery's wall was just visible at the top, between the jagged outcrops of rock.

"For the last half-mile," Tara admitted, "nothing specific, just a…like a bitter taste, an unrest. Like what I felt in the forest last time, before we got ambushed."

"Does it make it difficult to use your senses?" Willow asked, sparing Tara a sympathetic glance before returning her eyes to her surroundings, scanning back and forth along the patchy bushes lining the end of the ridge.

"Perhaps," Tara shrugged, "but I think I'm getting better. I'm more used to it, after last time. I'm pretty sure I won't be accidentally leading us into any more ambushes." She spun her spear deftly over her shoulder, where it slipped into the catches on her harness behind her, and drew her bow.

"Hey," Willow said, turning back to her, "that wasn't your fault, you couldn't have been expected to know, to adapt that quickly, you hadn't even seen a demon a couple of days earlier."

"It's okay," Tara assured her, though she did give a grateful smile, "I didn't mean it the way it sounded."

"Just so long as you're not beating yourself up over it," Willow persisted. Tara reached out to catch her hand, and squeezed it gently.

"I thought you were the nervous one this time," she grinned, "aren't I supposed to be reassuring you?"

"Well," Willow gave a bashful shrug, "yeah…looking after my Tara takes priority over being nervous though." Tara lowered her eyes for a moment, stepping closer to bring her face close to Willow's.

"I know baby," Willow smiled, "I love y- what?" Tara had looked up, tense, an alertness in her eyes that Willow recognized.

"East," she whispered, "we're being watched." Her grip on her bow tightened, and Willow gently released her palm to hold her staff in both hands. Tara turned slowly, in a way that suggested she was just idly looking around, not aware of anything from a specific direction.

"Small creatures," she said, "moving towards us…stealthy, quick… scavengers, not hunters."

"I see something," Willow said, trying not to show any overt sign of it, "a bush moved, seven or eight meters, exactly where I'm facing." Tara nodded once.

Tara spun around, her free arm whipping over her shoulder, an arrow nocked in her bow the moment it was upright. Willow felt the tight sensation of magic ready to be cast in her as she stepped sideways, giving herself a clear field of fire around Tara. Barely a split second later the scrubby undergrowth disgorged a trio of snarling, screeching Carvers, their wiry frames rising from a crawling posture and leaping forward with frightening speed.

Tara's arrow caught one full in the chest, igniting just as it punctured the demon's skin – it gave the start of a shriek then pitched sideways, spun by the force of the impact, as its chest tore from within and a fierce glow burned at its throat and mouth from within. The second Carver broke his stride at the fate of his companion, and died instantly as Willow's ice bolt pierced its skull, leaving it to collapse like a puppet with its strings cut.

The third, either unaware or uncaring of the others, never slowed in its dash towards Anji. Willow, staff still aimed at her first target, flung out her left hand, and a mist briefly enshrouded the creature, disappearing in the blink of an eye but leaving its skin blistered and covered in frost. It stumbled blindly, clawing at its eyes, and then, just as Tara aimed a second arrow at it, Anji reared up and kicked out with her forelegs. Her hoof connected soundly with the reeling Carver's head, snapping its neck like a twig and tossing its body back to the ground several feet away.

"I think they were alone," Tara said, glancing around. Her gaze settled on Willow, who was staring at Anji in shock. "Willow?"

"So I see," Willow replied – her grip on her staff loosened and she relaxed visibly.

"No," Willow shook her head, "no, it was just a surprise, she- well, I hadn't really imagined her…fighting."

"You're okay with her still?" Tara asked, taking a step forward herself, towards Anji who was once more looking placid and patient. Willow squared her shoulders and stepped around Tara, standing right in front of the horse, who dipped her head to let her pat it.

"I'm not afraid," she said firmly. Tara joined her and put a hand on her shoulder.

"Me too," Willow grinned. She looked into Anji's brown eyes for a moment, then leant forward and rested her forehead between them.

"Time to send her back to the camp," Tara suggested, smiling at the affectionate gesture.

"Okay," Willow nodded. "You take care of yourself, won't you?" Anji gave a quiet snort in reply, and Willow stepped back from her, letting Tara take her attention.

While Tara spoke briefly to her, repeating 'camp' several times as she did to make sure the horse understood, Willow took a deep breath and walked over to where the second Carver had fallen victim to her ice bolt. Unlike the frost-bitten and mangled remains of the one that had attacked Anji, and the one Tara had shot which was still smoking slightly, the small, misshapen corpse was undamaged save for the head wound. Grimacing, Willow picked a twig off the ground and used it to turn over some of the grimy leather tags tied around the strap of its loincloth, and pry back its lips to see the sharp little teeth behind them.

She stood and gave Anji a wave as the horse trotted past her, gathering speed as she headed north. Tara pulled her arrow from the Carver she had shot, examining it briefly before tossing it aside, then joined Willow where she stood.

"Well, I can tell they haven't eaten well," she said with a shrug, "I'm guessing you can see more than that?"

"I don't play with demon corpses just for fun," Willow said with a wry grin, taking a few steps away from the Carvers now that Tara was with her. "I think they're outcasts – some texts say that Carvers are sometimes driven out of their tribes for various reasons, usually to do with not being useful to the rest of the tribe. Or just that Carvers are vicious little things that don't like anyone and only band together in the first place because they're safer that way, I don't imagine they have much concept of tribal unity. Like you said these ones haven't eaten well, and aside from leaders getting a larger share, most tribes supposedly share their loot evenly – they're bright enough to know they're better off with strong fighters rather than malnourished ones, if they're part of the tribe. And some of the more detailed texts say that Carvers were tokens from battles they've survived, like fingers and bones from their enemies. That one," she pointed to the one she had examined, "had little ties on its belt, but nothing on them. If I had to guess, I'd say its tokens were stripped off when it was exiled."

"So we've got three tribeless Carvers," Tara said, "what does that mean, for us?"

"It might be a good sign," Willow hazarded, as Tara pointed to a trail leading east and took her hand as they walked together. "I don't imagine exiles would stay close to their tribes – there's records of cannibalism among Carvers, so they'd probably consider themselves lucky to be kicked out rather than carved up…sorry," she grinned, as Tara groaned at the unintentional pun.

"So there may not be a tribe around here," Tara concluded, giving Willow a smile.

"Those little critters suggest not," Willow agreed. "They might be from the band we ran into before, up on the highland. When they got tossed out they came down the cliff, figuring that it'd keep them out of their old tribe's hunting ground. It's just a guess, of course."

"Better than nothing," Tara shrugged. "And, sudden fright notwithstanding, a promising start to the day. We've run into demons and come through unscathed."

"Yeah," Willow said evenly, "let's keep doing that. The unscathed part, at any rate."

The overgrown trail to the village was quite deserted, as was the village itself – if anything had inhabited the houses the fire had spared, it had left no trace. The charred timbers and fragments of crossbeams still standing amid the black remains seemed like the crosses of a graveyard. Neither Willow nor Tara spoke as they made their way along the silent road leading to the town hall, and down into its cellar. Pulling the amulet from her wrist clasp and fixing it around her neck, Willow took the lead as they ventured into the darkened tunnel.

Glancing back now and then, Willow wished she had been able to find a similar amulet, or some kind of charm, for Tara, so she could see in the pitch blackness. Her estimation for Marela's kind, and the subtlety of their craft, had risen as she had gone from shop to shop, and discovered just how difficult an effortless transition to lightless sight was. Eventually she had had to concede that there was no way, with the materials available, to duplicate the amulet's effect – Tara had assured her that she would be alright in the darkness, and Willow in turn had stocked up on sunlight scrolls, and taught Tara how to cast them.

As they progressed though, Willow's spirits lifted a fraction – Tara's hand in hers was steady, her footsteps sure and even, not in the least suggestive of someone being led blindly. She offered a silent thanks to whatever Amazon goddess had taught her people how to develop such a gift. The thought of Tara helpless in the dark would have been too much for her to bear.

Further they went, past the gateway where they had found Amalee, deeper into the earth. It was when they were nearing the catacombs proper, but still with a little way to go by Willow's reckoning, that Tara squeezed her hand, making her heart skip a beat.

"Sorry," Tara whispered as Willow calmed herself and turned. "There's a glow up ahead, like torchlight."

For a brief moment Willow felt relief at escaping the darkness, but then she realized that the light Tara had seen could only be a sign of recent activity up ahead, and thus danger. She undid the amulet's thin chain for a moment – after a moment of utter darkness, which did nothing to soothe her spirits, her eyes adjusted and she saw a dim glimmer of yellow light.

"Well we're not dead, so they can't have succeeded yet," Willow said with a calm she didn't entirely feel.

"I don't feel anything besides us moving," Tara whispered, "but the air through the tunnels isn't quite still. I think something has been in here…I'm not sure if it's gone again."

"Well…we go on, I guess," Willow sighed. "You're sure you don't want to take the amulet? You're better at staying quiet than I am, you'd be able to get closer without making a sound…?"

"We shouldn't get separated," Tara reminded her, "I need you." Willow frowned and nodded – the thought of waiting for Tara to scout ahead, blind in the absolute darkness and alone, was not one she would have even considered, had the possible threat been any less dire.

"Trust me," Tara said warmly, "I'm not. If anything comes at us, I'll hear it and feel its motion well enough to put an arrow between its eyes with mine closed."

"Make sure you do," Willow said fervently, then checked herself: "if it's evil, I mean, not just anything…just don't get hurt."

"I won't," Tara reassured her. She reached for Willow's hand again – caught it perfectly, even without being able to see it – and onwards they went. The silence in the tunnel was both comforting and stifling, and Willow found herself straining her ears, searching for the tiniest sound that might warn of danger, to the point where she realized she was imagining sounds where there were none.

Retracing the path they had taken last time in reverse, they soon reached the chamber where they had found the vault entrance. Just as Willow remembered, it was a marvel of engineering – huge stone blocks, inlaid metals, as if the builders had been under no constraints besides what their imagination dictated. The chamber was still and empty, but torches lines the walls, burned down half their length, but still giving off a strong light. Willow took off the amulet again, finding the sight of so many flames, without being able to see their light, made her feel slightly nauseous for some reason.

"You were right, when we were here before," Tara whispered, her gaze passing over the strange patterns in the walls, the massive jigsaw-like blocks that fit together perfectly, "this place is like nothing I've ever seen." She let out a sigh, then gestured to the torches. "How long have these been burning, do you think?"

"They're slow burning," Willow said, "a bit of weak magic…I'd say they were lit no more than two days ago though. But if they- oh…look."

Tara turned, alarmed at the distant despair she heard in Willow's voice, and saw what had shaken her so. Where the vault entrance had been, neatly set into the floor, now there was a jagged hole, surrounded by dust and debris. Carefully, alert for any movement or sound from within, she approached the hole, sensing Willow close behind her.

On closer inspection it was no less chilling – as if a giant had simply smashed his way through the huge, thick stones, shattering them like sandstone. Tara knelt and picked up one of the larger fragments still scattered around the open maw, finding its sharp edge quite unyielding – even when she put it beneath her boot and ground it against the floor, its thin edges came out unscathed.

"Demon," Willow said, "something big, I don't know of any natural beast with that kind of strength."

"Not pure," Willow said quickly, "I don't feel any trace of magic being exerted here, I think it was just pure physical might. Something massive-" She fell silent as Tara's hand closed around her arm.

"Do you hear something?" she asked. Willow's head whipped around, staring into the shadows, then she calmed herself and listened for a moment.

"I don't have your hearing, remember?" she reminded Tara with a weak grin. "Do you hear something?"

"I do," Tara said grimly. "Very faint…echoing? A large space…how far are we from that main chamber?" Willow quickly pulled her partial map of the catacombs, drawn from memory, from her belt and unrolled it, holding it at an angle to best catch the torchlight.

"Maybe…twenty meters?" she hazarded a guess. "If I've got the dimensions right, it should be just a little way east of here…I might be wrong," she added as Tara stood up, "it was big in there, and we were looking across it from the other side, I might've misjudged the size of it all."

Tara gave a half-grin, as if the notion Willow might have been mistaken was comically amusing, and walked silently – perfectly silently – to the side of the chamber, where an archway led into an unlit room beyond. Willow followed a pace behind, making as little noise as possible, grateful that whoever in the Order had designed the battlegear's boots hadn't gone with a harder sole that would have sounded clearly against the stone floor.

The room was a crypt, with stone sarcophagi arranged in neat lines on either side of a central avenue. Only the first pair were really visible in the glow from the archway, the rest mere shapes in the shadow. Beyond them, though, was another glow – a faint, distant light from beyond the far doorway. Tara glanced at Willow, tilting her head towards the door, and then raised a hand to her neck, miming fixing an amulet. Willow nodded once, trying not to hold her staff too tightly, and breathe evenly in spite of her racing heart. Slowly advancing at Tara's side she put on her amulet, blinking in the sudden non-light as the details of the sarcophagi and the relief frescoes on the walls leapt into view.

The doorway from the crypt led to a balcony, not unlike the one they had stood on when first looking down into the massive heart of the catacombs. Even standing back in the doorway there was no mistaking the vast hall, with its huge pillars, the gaping chasms between them, and the sheer sense of cold, endless space, unsettling after so long in the tunnel, where the distance from one wall to the opposite could be bridged by reaching out both arms.

Tara crouched and approached the balcony's edge, kneeling behind a squat gargoyle carved into the parapet and peering around it, down into the depths. A suppressed shudder went through her, and Willow's blood ran cold for a moment. With a quick wave Tara beckoned her closer, gesturing for her to look. Carefully, Willow leaned out so she could see what Tara saw, and for the second time in that instant she felt a cold thrill of fear run through her.

Shapes were moving on the distant floor of the catacomb, gaunt, slumped forms lurching back and forth, bent under the weight of cracked boulders they were hauling up from a gaping tear in the stone beneath them. Torches lined their way – at such a distance, Willow found it bearable to look at them without removing the amulet – marking a path from the jagged hole to a doorway in the wall far beneath the balcony. Willow saw their purpose at once, and let out a tiny, despairing sigh.

"They're digging," she whispered when she and Tara had retreated to the crypt chamber, "they must be breaking through the levels of the catacombs, trying to get to the deepest level. That'll be where the prize is, whatever it is – the library, the artifacts, whatever they're after."

"What were they?" Tara asked with another mild shudder. "They looked like corpses…are they-"

"Ghouls," Willow said flatly, "undead raised to serve, rather than just to cause havoc. But there must be something else, something controlling them. On their own ghouls cold never do something like this, they're mindless." Tara nodded quickly, then looked across the long, shadowy row of carved stone caskets.

"I don't know," Willow admitted, "I think…I hope not. It's difficult to say, lots of demons use ghouls as servants. It'd be easier to command a more intelligent demon, a ghoul lord or a liche would be ideal, and have it control the ghouls, but I just…there's no way to know for sure, without going down there."

"That's what we have to do," Tara said – a statement, not a question. "Can they fight?"

"Ghouls, no, not properly," Willow whispered quickly as they made their way to the shattered vault entrance. "If they're ordered to, or if we cause enough commotion, they'll try to overwhelm us, but they're slow – between your magic and mine we should be able to keep them from getting too close, and if they can't reach us they can't hurt us. But whatever else is down there could be…liches and ghoul lords are both known to use very powerful magic, necromantic and fire. Just- if you see something that looks like more than just another walking corpse-"

"That's the best I can do," Willow admitted, "by the time we know more it'll probably be a bit too busy to stop and make a plan." She crouched and peered down through the hole in the floor.

"Take this," Willow offered, undoing the amulet and handing it to Tara. "You'll be able to see what you're landing on…and…Tara, be…be careful," she finished in a trembling voice. Tara reached up to cup her face gently, stroking her cheek with her thumb.

"Always, love," she whispered. Willow nodded, and Tara stood and slung her bow onto her back beside her spear. With a quick glance beneath her, she turned, lowered herself swiftly down until she was hanging from both hands, then let go. To Willow she seemed to vanish into the shadow, but a split second later there was the tiniest of sounds, leather on stone.

"Your turn," Tara's voice drifted up, barely more than a whisper. Willow leant over the blackness, nodding for Tara to see she had heard her, then began to lower herself, a great deal more gingerly than Tara had done. The edge of the hole scratched her bare midriff and she growled quietly in complaint, then she let herself go the last little way, to hang in the darkness.

"Ready," she heard, and without pausing to be afraid any more she let herself fall.

Her eyes closed instinctively, and for a moment a nightmare of sprawling with a broken leg, unable to escape or properly fight, swept over her. Then she was in Tara's arms, stumbling as her feet hit the uneven rubble beneath her, but safe.

For what seemed like an hour they followed the disturbances in the centuries-old dust on the floor, and the occasional spluttering torch, through chamber after chamber filled with strange, massive pillars and pedestals, stone bridges spanning pools of still black oil, and winding stairways carved out within solid columns. Always down, by stairs and ramps, always peering around corners, pausing to listen for footsteps, or the groans of the walking dead they knew were ahead of them, somewhere.

Finally Tara held up a hand, and moved forward by inches, pausing at every step. Willow listened intently, and picked up the faintest echo of a sound, a thin crunch like a falling boulder heard from far away. Tara reached the next door, a thin archway between two statues – hooded figures with no faces – and gestured for Willow to join her.

"There they are," she whispered, pointing up into the next room. Though dwarfed by the vastness of the main chamber, it was still a huge hall in its own right, with columns stretching higher than the tallest trees, vanishing into the shadows above – the ceiling, high and vaulted, was barely visible, and that only thanks to the light of a concentration of torches from a wide balcony on the far side, at the top of a winding staircase that stood free of the wall. The ghouls were there, on the balcony, staggering in turn through an archway with their burdens of stone, carefully depositing them in a growing heap clear of the arch.

"That must lead out into the main hall," Tara said quietly, ducking back into the darkened room to keep her voice from being overheard. "I don't like that staircase, if anything comes up behind us, it'll only take a few of them to cut us off from escape." She sighed. "'Choose your battlefield wisely'…"

"Solari?" Willow guessed. She glanced back at their ill-lit chamber, and something caught her eye.

"One of Eponin's sayings," Tara said with a faint smile, looking back at the doorway, "Solari would probably tell us to just make the best of what we've got…I suppose we'll have to."

Tara followed her a few meters into the chamber, and peered at the floor when Willow knelt and ran her hand over the relief designs carved in the stone. In the faint torchlight it was difficult to make out the shapes, but she saw the groove Willow's fingers were following – an unbroken circle.

"I think so," Willow whispered, reaching over her shoulder to rummage in her pack. She drew out the metal key and held it above the design in the floor.

"Exactly the right size," Willow went on, "and I can feel a little magic in this…I think it's a second doorway, like the one above."

"Why didn't they smash it open?" Tara asked. "Why are they tunneling through from the main hall? We're lower down here, they'd have less to dig through…"

"Maybe not," Willow surmised, "if whatever's ordering those ghouls has some way of knowing where to go, where the chambers and stairways are…their trail from up above didn't deviate once, they must have known which way to go…what if this door is thicker than the one up above? If it's thick enough, maybe it'd be quicker for them to tunnel down beneath it, through the other chambers."

"Maybe," Tara allowed, "either that, or they avoided this doorway for another reason. Could it be trapped?"

"I don't think so," Willow shook her head, "there's no magic here that feels like a set trap…besides, we have the key. We're not breaking in, we'd be opening it the way it was meant to be opened."

"It's a risk," Tara said. Then she hesitated, and looked back at the doorway leading to the next hall. "But so is the other option…there's a chance this will be more to our advantage. If we…let me think. Will opening this make a noise? Will they hear us?"

"I don't know," Willow admitted, "it could be silent, it could be noisy… no way to know."

"Alright," Tara said, "those ghouls aren't coming this way, just moving between that balcony and wherever they're tunneling at the moment. We're here, they're there, we both want to get here," she gestured to herself as she spoke, sketching a map in the air in front of her. "Ideally we want to avoid them completely, get in and out without them even knowing we're here, but we can't know if that's possible…if not, draw them away."

"You open the door," Tara decided, "if it makes enough noise to alert them, I'll use one of your ice arrows and blast down that stairway to the balcony. That should hold them up long enough for us to get a head start, maybe even bring them up from where they're tunneling. If the door is silent, we'll try sneaking in and out. With luck they'll never know."

"Okay," Willow nodded, "stand back…" Tara took two steps back as she leant down and fitted the key disc into the circular depression in the floor. For a moment nothing happened – Willow glanced back at Tara, beginning a vague shrug – then she and the square meter of floor she was crouching on simply dropped out of sight, silent as a moving shadow. Tara gasped in shock, then darted forward without a second thought, jumping into the space left in the floor.

She landed heavily, almost on top of Willow, on the floor section which was dropping quickly but steadily through a smooth vertical channel.

"I'm fine," Tara assured her, "I'm…" She paused, listening. "It's silent," she whispered, "how? This much stone, moving this fast…?"

"Magic?" Willow shrugged. "If this place wasn't powerful we wouldn't need to be here…look!"

"Stone blocks are swinging into the shaft above us," Willow said quietly, "blocking it off…they must be moving out of our way below, and then moving back when we pass. How far down have we gone?"

"No wonder they didn't want to try to break through this door," Willow said – Tara could hear the faint amazement in her voice. "What was the first floor they went through, a meter? Less than that? We must've gone through fifty meters of solid stone already…"

"See," Tara said, sneaking an arm around Willow's waist and gently squeezing her. "It's just as well we brought the key along."

"I guess…" Willow murmured. She reached out a hand, but pulled back before her fingers touched the wall in front of her, still rushing upwards at quite a pace.

"Gods," she said quietly, "how far down is this thing going to go?" She felt Tara shrug.

"If we're lucky, deeper than those ghouls have been able to tunnel," she replied.

"Hmm…" Willow nodded, then a thought struck her. "…hey, yeah. We might be bypassing them completely."

"I wouldn't get out hopes up," Tara cautioned, "but I'll admit, I won't feel disappointed if we get through today without seeing any more demons, or undead, or anything else."

Their journey came to an abrupt halt that left them both staggering. Willow grabbed both Tara's arms and steadied her as she quickly glanced around.

"A chamber, it's empty," Willow quickly reported. She glanced up to see the ceiling close above them, the blocks of stone swiveling into place so exactly she would never have suspected they could open at all. A tiny metallic sound from beneath her feet drew her attention – the key had shifted slightly, and was now resting just out of alignment with the circular groove she had fitted it into. She crouched down and picked it up, finding it slightly warm to the touch.

"Strange," she went on, "this isn't like any building I've ever been in, even the Zann Esu vaults."

"The air's moving," Tara said, "I think because of us, the platform coming down…but I'm not sure if it was still before. I can't really feel anything, but I can't be certain."

"Ready and waiting," Tara replied, idly touching the one tucked in her belt – several spares were in one of her pouches.

"Remember you don't have to warn me if you cast it, I'm not seeing light so I won't be blinded by it."

"I remember," Tara said. Willow could tell she was grinning slightly, just from the sound of her voice.

"Right. Um…there's three passageways." She looked at each in turn, unable to discern any difference between them. "I'm not sure I haven't got turned around…which way were we facing up above?"

"The main hall was that way," Tara said, extending a finger into what was, for her, pitch blackness. To Willow's eyes, she was pointing directly at one of the three doorways.

"Let's go that way," Willow decided, "and hope Master Moac built his basements symmetrical, and the important stuff is at the center of it all." Leading Tara by the hand she set off towards the doorway, only to be halted after a couple of steps by a strange, eerie sound.

"What was that?" Tara whispered, instantly falling into a defensive posture, bow in hand, while Willow spun her staff into both hands and scanned the chamber. The sound had been unnatural and unnerving, thin, almost on the edge of hearing but with a strange quality that had made it impossible to ignore.

"I don't…" Willow began, but stopped as the sound came again, closer this time, making her shiver involuntarily. It sounded like some dark thing from deep under the sea, echoing up through the waves…whale- song with a necrotic undercurrent. Willow recoiled as, suddenly, her world went black.

"We should use one of the sunlight-" Tara broke off as glow permeated the chamber, throwing its unseen architecture into sudden detail – a circular chamber filled with columns and squat, boxy stone forms that looked like oversized coffins laid out on the floor. The light was cold, a pale blue imitation of moonlight, but somehow darker, and dangerous. Tara spun around, searching for its source, and fell back a step, hearing Willow gasp beside her, as a shape emerged through the far wall.

At its heart was a human form, a skeleton, without legs or hips, simply the trailing spine, like a tail. Its thin arms spread out to either side, and the skull lolled lifelessly to one side before tilting over, its empty sockets seeming to fix on the two women staring at it. The light it cast was from a strange aura, sheets of billowing vapor that wafted from its bones, like a slow, cold fire.

"Wraith!" Willow whispered, her hand closing around Tara's arm as the apparition floated slowly towards them. "Don't let it touch you!" Tara instantly drew an arrow and fitted it to her bowstring.

With a sudden, alarming burst of speed the wraith lunged towards them, reaching for them with a bone claw. They dived in opposite directions, each keeping their distance as the skull turned one way and the other, as if trying to make up its mind which target to chase.

"It feeds on magic," Willow called, circling around the chamber's wall as her voice drew the creature's attention, "magic won't hurt it, and if you cast at it, or if it touches you, it'll start feeding on your energy!"

"What's it like with plain old brute force?" Tara asked as Willow skipped sideways, avoiding another clumsy lunge from the wraith which ended up floating half-way through the wall before it turned to follow her.

"Be my guest," Willow said, glancing behind herself as she backed away. Tara raised her bow – it felt odd not to be calling on power, but she resisted the temptation – and aimed at the creature's head.

"Get behind something," she warned. Willow dashed backwards and dived behind one of the stone coffins, and Tara let her arrow fly. It pierced the wraith's jaw and flew straight through it, clattering off the wall and whirring away in the opposite direction to Willow. The wraith turned smoothly to face Tara, the damage to its jaw and neck seeming to be of little bother to it.

"Arrows won't be much use, then," she muttered to herself, swinging her bow behind her back and replacing it with her spear. She swung the weapon once around herself, feeling the familiar shape and weight, and advanced on the wraith.

"I promise, love," she replied, her eyes never leaving the ghostly form closing on her. Again it lunged, but Tara was ready for it, rolling the other way, well clear of its claws, and swinging the spear's blade in an arc across its outstretched arms. She felt the tiniest hint of contact through her grip on the shaft, and one of the wraith's bony forearms floated free of its elbow, the bones seeming weightless as they slowly evaporated. The strange blue fire billowed at the passage of Tara's blade through it, but as the wraith turned its eerie sheath of ghost-light remained intact, even maintaining its shape around the damaged arm, as if the bones of its forearm and claw were still present.

"Try breaking the ribcage," Willow called, rising from behind her shelter and circling around behind the wraith, holding her staff like a fighting weapon. Tara made a feint to the left, then darted back right as the creature reached for her. She took a step forward and swung her spear downward, aiming to shatter its shoulders and ribs, but in a sudden burst of speed it veered away from her, the tilted skull seeming to watch her warily.

"Careful," Tara warned, as the wraith backed away from her, towards Willow. It paused, began to advance again, then wafted sideways, wrapping its arms tightly around itself as it passed through one of the chamber's thick pillars. Tara sidestepped to be ready when it emerged from the other side, but it never did – only she and Willow remained, the light in the chamber slowly ebbing away.

"I don't…watch out," Willow warned, as the eerie light, which had almost vanished, began to intensify again. Tara spun around, checking every wall and every column for a sign of the wraith.

"It's an old one," she heard Willow say as they both edged away from the pillars, into the center of the chamber, "probably been here for centuries at least…the longer they stay on the mortal plane the more aware they become of their surroundings, the more able to react and perceive threats and prey…"

Tara's head snapped around at Willow's exclamation, and seeing her staring down she followed her gaze, starting back in shock. Blue flame was billowing up from the floor beneath her, the clouds of luminescent vapor rising all around her. Tara's eyes darted from side to side as she tried to keep clear of the light, and not overbalance as it appeared behind her as well. The empty-eyed skull rose slowly through the stone floor, staring up at her as the wraith's arms emerged, reaching out to either side, trying to block her escape.

With a shout of effort Tara leapt backwards, lifting her legs as high as she could from a standing start. She felt a strange coldness in her right foot, and the wraith lunged at her, fortunately reaching only the shaft of her spear, which its single claw passed through without effect. As Tara landed she stumbled and fell backwards – her leg was going numb, and suddenly she could barely move it. She looked up at the wraith, now closing in on her, towering over her-

-and through its transparent body she saw Willow charging forwards, adjusting her grip to swing her staff like a poleaxe, over her head and down into the apparition. The blunt wood passed through the creature's head like the sharpest blade, tearing through its skull and spine like tissue paper. The wraith reared back, gave one last, mournful scream as its skeleton broke apart, then there were only fragments, evaporating into nothing as the blue light dimmed and vanished.

"Tara! Tara?" Willow was crouching at her side in an instant, with her hands on Tara's shoulders, gentle and firm.

"I- I'm okay," Tara said, taking a shuddering breath as the sudden wash of adrenaline took its toll. "I'm okay…my leg's cold, it touched me-"

"You'll be okay," Willow said quickly, "it's gone, it only weakens while the wraith it alive to feed…you're fine. Can you feel anything?" She touched Tara's leg tentatively.

"Your hand on my thigh…you bet I can," Tara replied with a hopeful grin. Willow let out a short bark of relieved laughter, then sniffed back a sob and hugged her.

"You're fine," she said again, "give it a couple of minutes, you'll be fine…that's how you help someone who's been touched, you banish the wraith, and it only took a second, just enough for a bit of a chill, nothing permanent."

"I can move it again," Tara whispered as Willow paused for breath, "the feeling's coming back…"

"Give it a moment," Willow said, "just rest a moment. I can see again… I mean, the amulet's working. The wraith must've been leeching the power out of it, but it's working fine now." Tara nodded, and reached behind herself to unhook her bow from its place on her back – her fall had shoved it to an odd angle, with one end wedged in a crack in the floor.

"Is it okay?" Willow asked, as Tara held it up and ran her hands along its length.

"Fine," she said, "no damage…hey," she looked to Willow, seeming to catch her gaze even in the dark, "thank you."

"Huh? Oh," Willow blushed and looked down, "it was nothing…no, I mean it was you, it was everything, but…I just did what I could."

"You did," Tara smiled, "thank you." She lifted a hand to Willow's chin, touched just the tip of a finger to it, and guided her down to meet her lips in a gentle kiss. Willow gave a little sigh of pleasure and lost herself completely in Tara's lips.

"Well, y'know," Willow said bashfully, "anyway, I didn't think I hit it that hard…must've caught it off-guard. There's a school of thought that says physical weapons don't really affect them either, it's the intent behind the weapon that does it. Like, what actually damages them is your subconscious, believing that you're damaging it when you strike." She gave a little chuckle. "My subconscious was kind of raging there."

"You were amazing," Tara said again, this time patiently, as if it was a simple fact she was going to keep repeating until Willow admitted it. They shared a laugh, then Willow sat down next to Tara, stroking her thigh.

"Good," Willow said firmly. "Want something to eat? I could use a snack…just rations, but hey, adventurers deep in hostile catacombs can't be choosers."

"Thanks," Tara said, reaching behind herself to unhook her water gourd from her belt.

"It probably wasn't after us specifically," Willow said idly, "the wraith, I mean…it would've been here hundreds of years. They tend to turn up in old, abandoned magical places, as they decay…catacombs, graveyards, stone circles, that kind of thing. You know, if nothing else, I've suddenly got a lot more respect for whoever went out and got the wraith bone in your bow."

"It is the same thing?" Tara asked, taking a sip of water and handing the gourd to Willow. "I wondered, at the name."

"That'd be it," Willow said, "I've got a few fragments for rituals. There's spells you can do – not against the wraith itself, cause they wouldn't work, but…around it, I suppose you'd say – that pull the bones properly into the mortal plane when one gets banished. Otherwise they just fade back to the plane they come from. Hunting a wraith is not an easy task, so I've heard."

"To get pieces big enough to work into a bow," Willow went on, "that's not an easy task, even for someone who does this kind of thing regularly. Find one with bones long enough, which usually means long, dangerous claws, then banish it without damaging the bits you want to use…"

"A lot of trouble to go to," Tara observed, "but, it does make a good bow. Our best craftsmen and women gather their own materials, even the dangerous ones. We think very highly of them."

"They deserve it," Willow shuddered, "the sound that thing made… that's going to haunt me for a while. Forgive the pun."

"Forgiven," Tara chuckled. "I'll just have to make sure your mind's on other things when we go to bed, so you won't have nightmares."

Willow paused. With her cat's-eye sight restored she had been leading Tara by the hand – not that it was strictly necessary, with her keen senses, but there was no reason not to, and she hadn't even bothered to try to think of a reason not to hold Tara's hand. They had steadily made their way deeper into the catacombs – inwards and downwards, following Willow's belief that the 'treasure', whatever it was, that the huge underground concealed would be at its lowest point. Subtle hints in the architecture made her think she was right – the design of the chambers seemed somehow to be pointing in the direction they were going, just like the halls and rooms of a grand palace, all designed with the knowledge that the throne room was the heart of the complex.

Now she forced herself to be perfectly still, perfectly silent, while Tara took a deep, quiet breath and concentrated. Willow imagined what she was feeling – 'seeing' by the air brushing against her skin, slowly building up an image of the forms and spaces ahead of them.

"I think that 'bypass the bad guys' plan isn't going to work out," Tara whispered at last. Willow's shoulders slumped, then she gave a quick sigh and let resolve tighten her jaw.

"I think so," Tara replied, "the motions are…they feel slow and, and ungainly…they feel like those things looked, you know? Lurching dead things…I'm pretty sure."

"Well, odds are they don't know we're down here, so we've got surprise on our side-"

She broke off, flinching back against the wall, as a tremendous crash echoed through the corridor, like a thunderbolt, its echoes bounding around from one wall to another, slowly fading away. Tara had her bow aimed in an instant, the arrowhead wavering this way and that, searching for a target.

"That wasn't a ghoul…unless it's a dozen of them with a battering ram…" She paused, and drew a shuddering breath. "I'm thinking, all things being equal…"

"Damn…they smashed their way down here anyway." Willow frowned and let out an exasperated breath. "I guess having the key doesn't really make any difference."

"Maybe it does," Tara suggested, "if they're still smashing, they haven't got in yet. Maybe we can drive them away before they do."

"You're right," Willow said, "you're right, I'm guessing the worst… okay, this is what we're here for. What now?"

"Get closer," Tara said quickly, "try to get a look at what we're facing before it sees us. Then make a plan, then carry it out."

"Then…" Tara shrugged, "hit them as hard and fast as we can, and don't let up until we win, or they force us to retreat. They're almost certain to have the advantage of numbers, and you're probably right about there being something controlling those ghouls – that means something smart. Giving them time to think once the fighting starts is only going to help them." She paused, and turned in the dark to face Willow. "What can you tell me about ghouls?"

"Ghouls? Oh, um…aim for the head, or neck. Damage won't affect them, they don't use their brain, but if the head is separated from the body, or completely destroyed, it'll break the spell that animates them. Oh, also," she paused and cringed as another crash echoed through the catacombs. "Gods almighty…um, ghouls move by animating the remains of the body's muscles, there's no motive magical force as such to keep them moving like there is with skeletons, so if you hit them in the legs or arms it'll affect them just like you'd expect with a living body. They don't feel pain though, or fear, they won't run or be driven back."

"What do you think our chances are?" Tara asked with a wry grin. "The odds of us not ending up scampering away with our tails between our legs?"

"If it's just ghouls, I think we're good," Willow said after a moment's thought, "they're strong, but their bodies are fragile, easily damaged… against whatever else it down there, I just don't know. If I can identify something I'll try to tell you anything I can, but we'll probably be fighting by then."

"I'll keep an ear out for you," Tara nodded. "Alright, let's stick to our plan."

"Okay," Willow agreed, "hit them fast and press our advantage for all its worth."

They proceeded side by side, Willow guiding Tara through the narrow passageways, while Tara reached forward with her senses, searching for the elusive traces of movement she could feel in the air. At last her grip on Willow's hand tightened, and they drew to a halt at a corner.

"We'll have to go through them," Willow replied, "I don't think there's another way forward, none of the turn-offs we've passed looked likely."

"Alright," Tara said. Her hand drew back, caressing Willow's palm for a moment before leaving it, then she reached into her belt and drew out the tiny scroll tucked there, gripping her bow loosely in her other hand.

"Okay, on three," Tara said. "One…two…" she leaned towards Willow and pressed a kiss to her cheek. "I love you."

They both leapt around the corner, Tara already reciting from memory the words of the scroll's spell, Willow aiming her staff, ready for whatever foe she would see. Twenty meters away, cramped into the narrow passage, a pack of ghouls paused in their methodical marching, the nearer ones turning as their crude thoughts alerted them to the danger behind them.

Willow felt the light magic catch and work beside her, but her concentration was on her own power as bolt after bolt of ice screamed from her staff and tore through the ghouls. Her first shots, molded into thin, spinning blades, scythed the heads from the nearest undead, then she switched to thicker spikes which punched through their chests even as they began to topple over, bursting through them and smashing into those behind them.

"Go, go!" Tara shouted as she fitted an arrow to her bow. Her first shot struck its target with a rush of flame, scorching several ghouls at once, leaving their heads and chests blackened, their eyes useless. They fumbled blindly, getting in the way of their comrades. Willow and Tara advanced side by side, firing blast after blast of fire and ice into the pack, sending ghoul after ghoul crumpling to the floor.

Willow paused to take stock of their situation, and saw a shattered hole in the side of the corridor, just where the closest undead had been standing. As she watched a ghoul patiently emerged from it, turning ponderously before one of Tara's arrows burst through its neck, sending its half-rotted head clattering away as its body fell.

"Get closer," she called to Tara over the noise of the fire blasts, and the ghouls' agitated, inarticulate groaning. "Get to that hole in the wall, I can seal that!" She added her ice bolts to Tara's arrows as they advanced, cutting further into the ghoul ranks, and decapitating the occasional appearance from the hole. Once they reached it Willow aimed her staff into the crudely-bored tunnel, which curved slightly upward, and let loose a stream of icy vapor that condensed into a solid wall a few meters in.

"That'll hold them a minute or two," she said, "can you cover me for a quick ritual?"

"If reinforcements don't show up," Tara replied, letting another arrow fly. Willow knelt down, laid her staff by her side, and with both hands quickly drew supplies from her belt pouches. Ducking unconsciously at each detonation from Tara's arrows, she laid out seven rune stones in a circle, opened a tiny vial of sand and tapped it out in lines between the stones, forming a seven-pointed star. She undid a second, smaller vial and upended it, dropping a single shard of glowing blue ice at the center of the pattern.

"I can give you about a minute," Tara warned. Willow glanced up, seeing the numbers of ghouls looked to have increased, though Tara's arrows were still keeping them back, blasting down the forerunners with each shot.

"It'll be enough," she replied, turning her attention back to her ritual. She stretched her fingers then passed her hand over the star several times, letting tiny trails of ice form from her fingers and crystallize into the lines of sand.

"Bust through this wall," she muttered, giving the pattern a final burst of ice. The star-shape, now composed entirely of ice, frozen around the sand, cracked and broke, and the single shard of blue ice melted. The liquid raced across the floor, seeming to double in volume, then double again, and again as it flowed up the wall, around the edges of the hold battered through the stone. Already starting to freeze at its edges, the glowing water spread across the gap and covered it, solidifying in second into an icy barrier.

"Done," she said, grabbing her staff and standing back up beside Tara, once more sending her ice bolts flying into the ghouls alongside her arrows. "If something attacks that with fire magic, it'll hold for at least fifteen minutes."

"If they don't have fire magic?" Tara asked, aiming a shot between two burning ghouls to decapitate one behind them.

"Then they'll still be here next year," Willow replied with a grin. Tara gave a short bark of laughter.

"Let's move on," Tara nodded. She concentrated fully on her work, producing more intense blasts of flame from each shot – strange gray shapes that billowed in the air, to Willow's sight – and Willow in turn mustered more powerful shards of ice, cutting through the ghouls like a breeze through a cornfield.

They advanced once more side by side, ice and fire clearing their way. After a few minutes' work they could see, through the remaining bodies arrayed before them, the reinforcements crawling out of a square hole in the floor. While Tara continued picking off every ghoul as it advanced, Willow concentrated her magic on the source of the newcomers, sending more spinning blades down near floor-level, sending those already standing reeling as their feet were cut from beneath them, and destroying each new ghoul as it appeared, their headless bodies disappearing back into the darkness beneath the floor.

"What do we do?" Tara asked once they had cleared the corridor. She aimed her bow down the hole, which was the top of a steep, narrow staircase, and fired a pair of arrows that caused havoc among the dim shapes visible at the bottom, sending them reeling.

"I could seal them in," Willow mused, "but I kind of think-" She was cut off by another deafening crash, this one most definitely originating from the chamber below them.

"The light spell will follow me, right?" Tara asked. "If I jump down there, it'll be lit up like it is up here?"

"Yep, but you can't just- look, I know they fell pretty easily up here, but you could be surrounded down there, I've been warned plenty of times not to underestimate ghouls just because they're fragile. Get a real crowd of them and they can overwhelm anyone."

"The two of us, back to back?" Tara suggested. "If it comes to the worst we can retreat back up here." Willow glanced down the hole – the ghouls were staggering back towards the base of the stairs – and sighed.

"Okay," she nodded, "I'll clear a little space for us – and once we're down there, use a couple of those ice arrows if there's enough room. We have to wipe them out as fast as we can."

"We'll be fine," she said, "I feel good, and you…you're amazing." Willow spared the time for a quick, grateful smile, blushing at the compliment, then turned her attention to the stairway.

"Stand back when this drops," she advised, cupping her hands together. An icy glow shone between her fingers, and as she spread her hands a ball of jagged frost floated between them, its cracked surface revealing hints of a writhing sphere of blue-white energy within. Tara sent one last fire arrow down the stairway then took a step back, while Willow stepped forward in her place, holding the straining orb over the gap.

"Catch, ghoulies," she murmured, then dropped the sphere and darted back. There was a crystal-clear 'crack' from the darkened stairway, then a burst of light and noise that made both women flinch. Shards of ice flew up out of the hole in the floor, several of the larger ones burying themselves in the ceiling.

"Go!" Willow yelled in the sudden quiet that followed the blast. Tara reacted instantly, bounding forward without hesitation. Willow descended the stairs, two at a time, behind her, eyes darting from side to side as she landed on the floor below. She glimpsed ghouls, some torn apart, some merely knocked from their feet, scattered around on a mosaic-like floor, with the walls of the room distant behind them. Tara wasted no time – two fire arrows felled a pair of nearby ghouls, then she drew one of Willow's ice arrows, its arrowhead glinting coldly as she fit it to her bow, and fired through the gap.

Willow turned away as the blast sent ghouls flying in all directions, shielding herself from the sudden burst of light before she realized that she wouldn't have seen it in any case. But in turning she found that, instead of a wall, the chamber extended back behind the stairway as well.

"Oh fuck," she whispered as a massive shape reared up. It stood five meters tall, hunched over to fit beneath the ceiling, and its muscles were thick as ancient oak trunks, beneath a skin scarred and pitted by age and violence. Atop its massive shoulders a tiny head fixed her with beady, red eyes, and its brows furrowed in rage. With the shifting of mammoth muscles it lifted its arm, drawing back the weapon clutched in its giant hand for a crushing blow.

"Look out!" Willow screamed, leaping for Tara, pushing her out of the way. The weapon crashed down inches from her – her stomach turned as she realized it was a rotted corpse, wrapped head to toe in chain to give it weight and strength – and pulverized the flagstones where she had stood a moment before. The demon bellowed in anger and lifted its grotesque flail for another strike.

"Urdar!" Willow said above the noise of the creature's roaring. She turned and blasted the nearest ghouls with a hail of ice shards, clearing space for herself and Tara to back away from the beast. "Ice arrows, now! I'll shield us!"

Again Tara betrayed no hesitation – Willow felt a moment of pride at that – as she reached for another of the special arrows and fitted it to her bowstring. Willow put a hand on her shoulder, where it wouldn't interfere with her shot, and held as tightly as she dared while the power of her chill armor wrapped around both of them. Tara fired as soon as the icy mist enveloped her, and an instant later the arrowhead burst into flame, then detonated in an icy blast, as it struck the Urdar in the center of its massive chest.

Willow and Tara were both tossed back by the force of the blast, but the chill armor kept them from being harmed by the wall of frost that hammered at them. Willow wrapped her other arm, staff still clutched in hand, tightly around Tara's waist as they hit the floor and tumbled backwards, her mind fixed only on not letting go, not leaving Tara vulnerable to the blast. She felt an impact from behind, something being knocked over as they rolled to a halt, then she was shaking her head, trying to clear her mind as Tara sat up, lifting her bow to aim it more or less towards the huge demon.

"Wait," Willow called, rubbing her eyes to clear them as she stared through the film of mist. The Urdar was still standing, its tiny eyes blinking in confusion. Its chest had been absolutely torn apart – its massive ribs bent outwards at strange angles, their ends blown off, and beneath them its lungs were in tatters. It looked down at itself, raised a hand to touch the broken tip of one of its ribs, then its bulbous heart, leaking black blood from a dozen tears, shuddered its last and was still. With a dying groan the huge creature toppled over backwards, cracking the floor as it crashed down.

"Willow," Tara warned, turning and firing behind them – Willow glanced back to see the remaining ghouls, still slowly recovering from the blast that had killed the Urdar, now stagger as Tara's arrow struck one of them and exploded. She scrambled to her feet, giving Tara space to draw and fire as swiftly as she could, and looked back across the fallen corpse of the Urdar.

Beyond it was a wasted, withered shell of a man, clad in dirt-encrusted old robes that were unraveled at the edges, and worn through across the shoulders so that it hung on the few remaining strands of fabric, revealing the rotted flesh beneath. The creature was staring in disbelief at the dead monster, then his gaze lifted and he fixed Willow with a hateful scowl.

"Ghoul lord!" Willow warned. "Stay behind me, I'll take him, you keep the ghouls off my back!"

"Okay," Tara replied, her voice steady. Willow took a step forward, hearing another one of Tara's arrows explode behind her, and raised her staff in an obvious challenge to the withered creature.

"Come on," she muttered, "what've you got? No more muscleman to do your fighting for you."

The ghoul lord opened its mouth, emitting a deathly rattle, and raised a thin arm covered in parchment-dry skin. Its claws bristled with power, then a fireball screamed towards Willow.

"Nuh-uh!" she yelled, swinging her staff like a club. A burst of ice leapt from its tip, intercepting the fireball and freezing it in a heartbeat. The lump of ice, frozen in the shape of the flame it had engulfed, fell to the floor and smashed between them.

"My turn," Willow snarled, whirling her staff. Ice formed around both ends, taking the shape of two razor-edged discs, which flew from the staff one after the other, curving through the air with a howl. The ghoul lord released a jet of flame at one, melting it, but the remaining disc came at it from the other side, slicing its arm off in a shower of dust. Tiny tongues of flame licked from the stump extending from its shoulder, which the twisted mage pointed at Willow, as if to cast another spell.

Whether or not it could have, it never found out – Willow pointed her staff directly at it and released a hail of ice bolts, punching through its wasted body in a dozen places. Under the hail of missiles it simply fell to pieces, its flesh breaking apart, showering down like ash as its bones clattered to the floor. Willow took the barest moment to sigh in relief, then turned, staff raised, to see how Tara was doing.

"Do you need- oh," she finished with a sheepish grin, finding Tara standing calmly behind her, bow lowered. What remained of the ghouls was scattered to the corners of the room – only she and Willow were still standing. Willow slowly undid the amulet around her neck and glanced around, taking in the colors as they returned to her.

"That was the demon in charge?" Tara asked, inclining her head towards the remains of the ghoul lord.

"That would be it," Willow agreed, turning back. "Human once, decades ago…maybe centuries." She walked over and nudged at one of the fallen bones with the end of her staff – it was so brittle it broke as it rolled over.

"They make deals with pure demons," she went on, "longevity in exchange for their service." She shivered.

"It doesn't seem like a worthwhile kind of life," Tara commented, coming up behind Willow. "I much prefer the one I've got."

She took Willow gently by the hand and turned her around, stroking an errant strand of hair aside from her face. Willow was tense, her shoulders tight, a worried frown creasing her lovely features. Tara smiled slightly, then leaned forward and touched her lips to Willow's.

"It's done," she whispered, "it's over." Willow took a quick, startled breath, then let it out in a long sigh, the warm air caressing Tara's lips. She moved the last fraction needed to capture her mouth, and in an instant Tara was responding as she kissed her passionately, wildly, relief and exultation fuelling a sudden, ardent need to claim Tara, to give herself in return, to immediately reclaim the bliss that anxiety and fear had held back since the morning.

"Goddess," she whispered, releasing Tara's lips just for an instant. She took a breath, and tasted the stale air of the catacombs, warring with the lingering taste of Tara's mouth.

"Hmm," she murmured, reluctantly leaning back from the temptation of resuming the kiss, "we should, you know…wait until later."

"I'm not sure I care," Tara admitted with a dazed smile, "my goddess you can kiss…" She chuckled to herself.

"Done," Tara nodded, "you're right, this isn't the place to linger…and frankly, much more of your lips and I'd be out of my armor before I realized it."

"Let's do what we came to do and get out of here," Tara suggested. Willow nodded and looked around, nothing the details of the room she had ignored during the brief battle.

"Pretty obvious what that ghoul lord and his friend were up to," she noted, pointing at a patch of floor where the tiles had been smashed in. Beneath was solid stone, with a texture that looked like granite when Willow knelt down close to it. Tiny fractures ran through it, but it had held up well to the hammering it had been given.

"Willow," Tara called, taking a few steps to stand by the back wall of the chamber. Willow joined her there and examined the pattern carved into it, laid out around a circular groove.

"I guess this is it," she said, drawing the key from her pack. Tara nodded and watched as Willow fitted the metal into its groove, turning it slowly until it stuck. She slowly lowered her hands, leaving the key set in the wall, immobile.

"Is something supposed to happen?" Willow asked after a moment's silence. As if on cue there was a metallic clank from somewhere behind the wall, and the key began to rotate. A grinding noise from behind Willow and Tara got their attention – they turned to see the damaged section of floor rising up, a thick, square column of stone that reached the ceiling, and continued as the blocks there slid out of its way. As the column continued to rise the stone gave way to black metal, then strange green crystals. At last, after what seemed like fifty meters of column had risen past them, the end lifted out of the floor, a perfect crystal prism, its diamond point aimed downward. It settled into the ceiling as, beneath it, a lectern rose to take its place, made from black marble inlaid with geometric patterns in pure silver. Atop it sat a book, old, thick, bound in dark red leather, with bronze bindings at its corners.

"That must be it," Willow whispered in the sudden stillness as the chamber's moving parts settled. "Moac's journal…my gods, it's real…even after all this, I didn't quite believe it…"

"Do we take it or destroy it?" Tara asked warily, approaching it. She ran a gloved finger along the spine, picking up a thin layer of dust, and looked back to Willow.

"Gods," Willow said again, shaking her head, "I don't know…it's just a book, but…if it's true…the power it could lead to…" She trailed off as a tiny sound caught her attention, and turned to stare, puzzled, at the key, which was still slowly turning in its socket.

"What's it-" she began to say, then staggered as a violent tremor shook the room. Suddenly the underground stillness was filled with a deafening wall of sound, the rumbling of stone shifting, the squeals of metal moving against metal, the rushing of floods of liquid through tight channels. The floor shook, tossing Willow to her knees.

"Tara!" she called, turning and reaching out. Tara was on her side, having fallen, but she quickly got to her hands and knees and scrambled across the shaking floor, reaching for Willow's hand.

"What's happening?" she cried, as a fresh wave of sound buffeted them both. Willow opened her mouth to answer, then convulsed as a shock of pain passed through her.

"Gods!" she cried, tears streaming down her face. Her legs collapsed beneath her and she fell painfully to the floor, jerking as her body writhed in uncontrollable spasms. Somehow she managed to force a flailing arm towards Tara, her hand painfully unclenching from a tight fist.

"Willow!" Tara screamed, scrambling to her side, "Willow!" Willow stared frantically up at her, then her eyes closed and she let out a primal howl of pain. At the same moment a huge force pressed both of them down onto the floor, Tara lying helplessly over Willow's convulsing body, as the whole world, it seemed, shook beneath them.

"It's her," Willow sobbed between gasping breaths, "it's her, she's here, she's here-" Tara struggled against the weight pressing her down, holding Willow's head to keep her from hitting it on the floor.

"I'll take care of you baby," she yelled over the din, "I'll protect you, just tell me what to do! Where is she?"

For half a mile in every direction from the Kotram monastery great fissures opened up in the ground. Birds and animals ran for their lives as boulders cracked, streams of scalding-hot water burst from the ground, steam vents jetted into the air. In the abandoned villages wood splintered and stones toppled as the buildings collapsed in on themselves, while in the monastery itself the mighty walls and parapets trembled and cracked. The dome of the chapel broke apart, stone crashing down onto the pews beneath, smashing them to pieces. The inner wall of the two-storey dormitory building fell, taking the roof with it, leaving only the side built into the outer wall standing.

A titanic blast erupted from the ground beneath, sending earth and stone rocketing in every direction. The monastery, massive, aged battlements and all, collapsed inwards, reduced in seconds to rubble and debris, as from beneath the ground a new form thrust into the light. Huge columns thundered upwards, reaching into the sky, great masses of stone, veined with crystal and steel, rose up, the huge segments sliding against each other, locking into place one after another, forming the base from which even taller forms emerged. From the ruins of the monastery, like a giant machine building itself, the ancient tower of Hellebore rose.

Chaos was all around Tara, but she barely noticed. The terrible shaking of the floor, the rumbling and thundering from behind the walls, as if the chamber was on the verge of collapsing, the din of metal and stone moving, all swept past her, unacknowledged.

"Willow?!" Tara sobbed, barely keeping herself from panic, "what do I do? Please!"

"I-I…I- ah!" Willow gasped in agony, cutting off whatever she had been trying to say. Her head jerked back, bruising Tara's knuckles against the floor as she kept her head from hitting it, and a fresh flood of tears welled up from her tightly-clenched eyes.

'Oh Goddess,' Tara prayed fervently, 'Athulua mother of Amazons help me, she's my Willow, she's my life! How do I help her? How can I save her?!' Never had Tara felt so helpless, or needed guidance so desperately. A bare second later the ceiling opened like a flower unfurling its petals, straightening atop the walls which slid down out of sight, and for that brief moment Tara wondered if the Goddess Herself had come to her aid. But when she looked up, her gaze passing sightlessly over the panorama of the highlands falling away beneath as the floor rose, she saw only a gathering storm overhead, the clouds circling, darkening.

A sudden movement from Willow caught her off-guard, and she cursed herself for taking her eyes off her even for a second. Before she could react Willow was rising, lifted into the air by some invisible force, her body hanging limply. There was an instant of lucidity, in which her eyes opened and she stared down at Tara, who in turn stared helplessly up at her, then her head was flung back, her limbs stretched to their fullest extent, and a howl welled up from her throat that chilled Tara to the bone.

"Willow!" she yelled, reaching up for her. Suspended in mid-air as she was, only her feet were within Tara's reach – the moment her fingers touched the leather of her boots a sickening shock ran through her, and the next thing she knew she was crashing into the floor, curling up to protect her head as she rolled, finally coming to a halt as her back struck something unmoving.

She looked up, through dazed eyes, to see Willow convulse again, stretching at full length in mid-air, and then to her horror a red stain formed on her stomach, spreading quickly up over her chest, down her hips and legs, darkening the fabric of her battlegear. Some rational part of her mind told her what she was seeing as something she didn't understand – she grabbed that thought and clung to it, desperately seeking escape from the sight of Willow's perfect body before her, apparently in the process of being torn apart.

On the strength of that one rational thought she cleared her mind, putting aside the panic threatening to consume her. 'It's not blood,' she thought – perhaps she only hoped it, but a moment later her hope was borne out, as the red began to drift away from Willow, like a hideous mist being released from within her. Tara's heart leapt absurdly when she saw unbroken skin beneath the tendrils of gory vapor, and the motion beneath that skin of Willow's muscles moving, tensing – she wept at Willow's pain even as she clung to the proof that she still lived.

Staggering to her feet, shaky after her fall, she approached Willow, ducking to keep away from the trails of scarlet fog streaming out of her. Without realizing it she reached down and retrieved her spear from where it had come away from her back harness, rather than break as she had tumbled on top of it. Its familiar form and weight in her hands gave her another piece of rationality to cling to.

"Willow," she said, her voice hoarse from sobs she hadn't realized she had cried. Motion caught her eye, all around her, and she spun around, searching for the most immediate threat. The floor – now an open platform far above the highlands – darkened as columns rose up around it, eight of them, their metal points spearing upward, aimed at the heart of the tempest in the skies above. Arcs of raw energy passed between them and the crystal spire, which hung above the platform with no visible means of support, poised above its center. The lectern beneath the massive crystal had vanished, leaving a golden dais in its place, just large enough for a man to stand on. It was above this dais that the red mist being torn from Willow's body was massing, swirling and billowing, tightening into a denser and denser form.

Tara wanted to look away, but horrified fascination had her in its grip. The first solid mass to form, at the center of the cloud, was a skull, its jaw open in a silent howl even as it coalesced into being. The spine and ribcage followed, then hips, arms, legs, until a complete skeleton floated in mid-air, its pose mirroring Willow's exactly. Concentrations of vapor solidified into flesh – heart, lungs, stomach, intestines, then delicate webs of nerves, masses of muscle and tissue. Tara's stomach heaved as she recognized the shape of the thighs and hips, the curve of the waist, the firm breasts, the shoulders and arms, even the face, for all that it glistened crimson, skinless and horrific. The last trails of mist left Willow and settled over her macabre double, forming its smooth, pale skin, its scarlet hair – it was Willow in every detail, every swell and curve Tara had ever kissed and touched reproduced in the naked form hanging lifeless in the air before her.

Before she could comprehend what she had witnessed the two Willows fell, puppets with their strings suddenly cut. Tara's body reacted before her mind could, catching her Willow while the other tumbled onto the dais, landing in a bruising, crumpled heap. Tara stared helplessly at it, even as she carefully lay the woman in her arms on the floor, automatically smoothing away the hair that had fallen over her eyes as her head had been tossed around. Some instinct drew Tara's attention back to her, so that when she opened her eyes, Tara was already meeting her gaze. Her confusion vanished, for a moment, as she saw Willow's beautiful green eyes staring at her.

"Wh-wha…" she whispered. Tara opened her mouth, but couldn't find the words to reply. She stared at Willow, helplessly and lovingly, then turned her gaze on the naked, unconscious form lying sprawled a few meters away. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Willow's head turn, then her body stiffened and her legs began to work, pushing her feebly away from the dais.

"No," Willow murmured, "no, no, no no no…" Tara looked back at her and understood, from the feel of her body tense with horror, the despair in her eyes, the voice she remembered hearing before, concealing a dread that came straight from the soul: 'When the Horadrim wrote the Book of Foes, which we still use, they called it Shadai'. She gently stroked Willow's cheek then, as the sorceress turned and reached for her staff, she stood up, marched to the dais, and raised her spear.

No force could have kept her from hesitating. What lay beneath her was identical to Willow, down to the last hair on her head, down to the pale freckles dusted across her chest, the deft, delicate fingers, the slender, toned legs, the nipples hardening in the cold air, the slow rise and fall of her chest, the expressive lips, parted just a fraction. Tara stared down at her, the shaft in her hands weighing her down like lead. For a moment she wondered, but then…there was something missing. Every sense Tara had told her that the woman lying at her feet was Willow, and yet she wasn't…A fragment of memory surfaced, of herself holding a tearful Willow, reassuring her against the memory of a frightful vision: 'I know with all my heart, you won't hurt me.' This… creature, this thing wrapped in Willow's form…Tara realized she was afraid of it.

She aimed her spear down at its heart and thrust. A cry escaped her as the spear halted before reaching its mark – so quickly she hadn't even seen it, the other Willow's arm had lifted, and was holding the spear by the blade, the point just on the verge of piercing her chest. Tara pushed with all her strength, and the weapon slipped down, just a fraction. Then it was as if she was pushing against a boulder – blood welled between the slender fingers as the false Willow tightened her grip slightly, then her hand began to move outwards, driving Tara's spear back inch by inch, against every ounce of power she could muster from her arms.

'Goddess Zerae help me!' Tara prayed, as the creature's head lifted from the gold surface beneath it, turning towards her with closed eyes. But there was no reply – no lightning from above, no surge of power.

The naked Willow opened its eyes, and Tara stared into hell. Willow's description came back to her, and she had to admit it was accurate – hatred for purity, for innocence, eye sockets full of crimson hellfire, blazing red, drifting out across her face like fumes. Whatever lingering doubt Tara had harbored, whatever hesitation on seeing the form the creature had taken, vanished.

"Hello Tara," Shadai whispered, in a breathy, sultry voice, so sweet it was sickly, seeming smooth and glistening in the same way as would be a wet, bloated corpse. The corners of its mouth turned up in a parody of Willow's playful amusement, turned instead to cruelty, and delight in it.

"Tara, get back!" Willow's voice – Willow's real voice – called. Tara obeyed at once, without thinking, wrenching her spear from the demon's hand and retreating, forcing down the bile and sobs that rose in her throat at the sight of the thing. Shadai rose to her feet and took a step forward, crossing one leg in front of the other like a seductress on the prowl, while her hands flexed, fingers curled viciously inward. Then she vanished in a storm of ice, and Tara turned to see Willow, on her knees, staff in hand, bombarding the demon with magic. Her face was set in grim determination – no joy in what she was doing, in the lethal fury she was conjuring, but no hesitation, no remorse.

Tara ran to her side and turned to see Shadai step out of the cloud of savage magic, unscathed. She tilted her head slightly, fixed Willow with a grin and licked her lips. Then she turned away from them, stepped back up onto the dais and lifted her arms high. Patterns of darkness reached from her fingertips into the crystal suspended above her, and the storm above the tower churned and raged. Tendrils of dark power leapt between the eight columns surrounding the platform, singing distorted notes as they coiled and writhed.

Willow rose to her feet, staggering slightly, and let loose another volley of magic, a storm of ice shards, freezing mist, and at its heart a blast of pure cold, screaming through the air, thundering into the demon with the force of a tidal wave. She simply glanced over her shoulder, smiled again, and turned back to her work. Cutting off her bombardment Willow shouted inarticulately in frustration.

"What's wrong?" Tara asked, her hand on Willow's arm to calm her, "is she too strong already?"

"She's-" Willow began, then fell back to her knees as the fury seemed to leave her slightly, "she's me, she's…that, that thing was inside me, it can just- damn!" She fired a thick lance of ice at the demon, which vanished into her back without a trace.

"My magic can't hurt it," Willow said through gritted teeth, "every spell, every form of magic I'm capable of casting, she knows it, she can dismantle it without even thinking! Gods, how could I have been to stupid! How could I let it-"

"Willow!" Tara half-shouted half-pleaded. Willow shook her head, then closed her eyes so tightly they watered.

A crackling blast tore out from the dais, sending both women to their knees beneath the bombardment of harsh sound. Looking up, they saw Shadai laughing as lines of red appeared across her back. One by one the strips of her flesh peeled off her back, stretching out and upwards, the skin tearing away from the muscle beneath as dozens of grisly strands reached for the crystal spire suspended above her, wrapping around it. With blood running down her legs Shadai lifted into the air, hanging from the heart of the tower, and as she did she let loose a scream, climax and agony combined. The whole tower shook at her voice – the energy arcing from its columns grew angry and red, the subtle vibrations running through the massive stone edifice changed, becoming deeper, more primal - even the stone itself darkened, its edges no longer smooth, but now jagged, sharp to the touch.

"I can," Tara growled, rising to her feet. Ignoring Willow's cry from behind her she strode towards the dais and swung her spear with all her might, burying the blade in the demon's back, severing the gory strands of flesh that held her aloft. But instead of falling she simply hung in the air, and the severed ends of skin reached for each other and, joining, wove themselves together again.

Shadai reached behind herself, closed her slim hand around the spear and pulled it free of her body, the sickening sound it made the only sign of its passage – her face gave no indication of pain as she looked over her shoulder. Even as the spear came free the torn flesh of the demon's back reached into the gash and sealed itself.

"Want to play rough?" she purred, as the strands of skin flexed to turn her around, to face her opponent properly. Her skin stretched, pulling tight across her breasts and stomach as her feet settled to the floor, and she took a step forward, keeping pace with Tara as she slowly backed away.

"Too late, though," she smiled, "I am Hellebore now. And you, without your precious gods and goddesses-"

Tara struck again, and this time Shadai simply held up a hand to block the blade, grinning slightly as the metal sunk a fraction into her flesh before stopping. She pushed the spear end away, almost idly. A blast of ice from Willow rocketed into the side of her head, but she ignored it. More strands were unfurling from her back, reaching for the huge columns surrounding the tower's crown, stretching out far above her so that, slowly, she was gaining the appearance of a spider settled in the heart of a grisly web of her own skin.

"A weak, mortal thing," she laughed, standing proudly in front of Tara, "so fragile…"

"I can't cast!" Tara shouted in reply, shivering under Shadai's amused scrutiny.

"It's the shield," Willow yelled, "the tower's magic! We're cut off, the gods can't reach us!"

"Two helpless flies," Shadai sang, "caught in a web…who shall I bleed first? You…" she snarled, suddenly fierce, glaring furiously at Tara, "you, bringer of light…I've dreamed of your suffering for so long…"

"Tara!" Willow screamed, blasting Shadai with another barrage of magic, which had as little effect as the last. The demon spread her arms, baring her naked chest at Tara, and with an eruption of blood from their centers, her breasts and stomach disgorged the razor-sharp claws of bone Willow had once described, writhing on the ends of chains that streamed endlessly from Shadai's body. The trio weaved through the air like sharks scenting blood, then as one leapt at Tara, who spun her spear desperately.

Willow screamed, terrified, as she watched Tara's blade strike one of the bone talons aside, the spear then spinning around, catching the chain behind a second, dragging it away from its intended target…but the third, the lowest, stretching from Shadai's navel, now dripping with blood, evaded Tara's defenses and leapt at her body. Willow's breath caught as it reached her – she wondered how she could go on, after seeing the claw burst through the back of Tara's leather armor, revealing the gory wound beneath, the demon holding her aloft as her life drained out of her.

But it never happened. The claw struck Tara's stomach and rebounded, catching Shadai so off-guard that she staggered, supported by her flesh- web, as the chains reaching from her flailed wildly. Tara fell back a step, one hand going to her stomach, covering the smooth, unmarked leather. She looked down, then back at the demon.

With a bestial snarl Shadai struck again, all three chains this time lunging at Tara, two for her chest, the third aimed right between her eyes. Again they failed – she jerked her head back as the tendril whipped at her face, but there wasn't even a scratch on her as she blinked in confusion. The chains retracted, making Shadai's body shudder as they slammed back within her, and she strode forwards, drawing back a hand and lashing forward with her nails, which suddenly were sharp as knives. At the moment in which they would have slashed Tara's face the demon screamed and jerked her arm back, as if she had hit an immovable barrier.

"You can't, can you?" Tara said, understanding dawning on her face. She took a step forward, ignoring the chains which whipped out again, and again rebounded off her without causing a scratch.

"You can't hurt me!" Tara shouted back. "Look at yourself! Whatever sick, twisted excuse for a soul you have, you kept it in my love for so long…you've got her form, her body- you're shaped by her!"

"She can't hurt me," Tara said levelly, meeting its hellish stare for the first time, "so neither can you."

"No!" Shadai lashed out with every weapon at her disposal, her claws raining blows down on Tara, the chains snaking out of her body striking again and again, like snakes biting at their prey. But every blow came to nothing – for all the rage in the demon, her body refused to answer when she willed it to kill Tara.

"I can kill her," Shadai snarled, the claws on their chains lifting as if scenting the air, turning towards Willow. Tara smashed them out of the air with a single swing of her spear.

"Not unless you can get through me," she said, placing herself directly between Willow and the demon wearing her form, "and I don't think you can."

"Tara, please," Willow hissed frantically, "it won't last, she'll revert to herself eventually-"

"Perhaps I can't kill you, now," Shadai said, suddenly going from rage to laughter – once more her expression was a parody of Willow, this time the delight she showed when she had figured out a difficult problem.

All around the tower's summit, energy spread from the black columns, merging into upright pools of crimson darkness between them. The center of each pool opened, each showing a different scene, forests, grasslands, a ruined village, a rocky slope, a low cavern – each a glimpse into a different area, and in each one brutal, demonic forms suddenly turned towards the tower, their eyes lighting up a savage red. Carvers, goat-men, undead, ghouls, hissing blood hawks, chittering bone-armored spiders, writhing, maggot-like creatures – every manner of demon and corrupted beast, all turned, feeling the call of their new mistress in their black hearts. The portals shifted constantly, revealing more and more, rising from every dark corner and forsaken grotto in the highlands, dozens, hundreds.

"The first of my legions," Shadai sighed, "come to me, my children… come to me." She turned her burning gaze on Willow and Tara, smiling triumphantly.

"Perhaps," she whispered gleefully, "when you are no longer recognizable as this body's lover," she dug a nail into her breast, drawing blood, "then you will beg me for death, and I will be able to oblige." She dug her other fingers into her flesh, gasping in apparent pleasure as blood flowed down her chest. With her other hand she reached towards one of the portals and beckoned. On the far side of it, a pack of goat-men were nearing the threshold.

"I need you now Willow," Tara whispered quickly, turning to Willow and staring into her eyes, "I need you. Your pure power." Willow's expression turned from incomprehension to horror, even as she staggered unsteadily to her feet.

"We have to finish this now, love," Tara said, leaning in to rest her forehead against Willow's, "now or never. I know you can do this. I know you won't hurt me." She quickly kissed Willow, her mouth opening Willow's lips, her tongue tasting her, then she straightened and turned back towards the demon.

"I love you," Willow cried, tears streaming down her face even as she raised her hand. As she watched Tara raise her spear she felt the familiar tingle of magic within her, and concentrated on letting it flow freely, ignoring all the training and practice that screamed at her to form a spell to control the power. Her fingers felt cold, there was the tiniest spark of ice, then like a dam bursting the power leapt from her, a wild, uncontrolled rush of primal cold, washing towards Tara with the deadly force of an avalanche.

Pain assailed Tara from every angle, freezing, biting pain like a thousand needles piercing her, sucking the heat and the life from her, turning her flesh to ice. She gritted her teeth and held her spear, forcing herself to ignore everything but the focus, the form in her mind of the spell she wanted, by which the incredible power bombarding her would be shaped, wielded. She felt as if her limbs would crack and shatter as she moved.

Willow felt a surge of sick panic as sudden familiarity ran through her - she had lived this moment before, in her vision. The 'standing stones', the great columns rising around them, the patterns of strange light in the air between them, the portals through which, even now, the first demons were emerging onto the tower – but all this was merely background, just as it had been before, immaterial and inconsequential. All she could focus on was Tara, at the heart of the terrible storm of cold she had brought to life.

Tara felt a sick realization as her body slowed, the energy of her life ebbing away into the tide of heartless ice that wrapped stiflingly around her.

She turned painfully to Willow, determined to have one last glimpse of her to take into the next life. At the sight of her, she realized what she was doing.

'Goddess damn you,' she railed at herself, 'trust her! Stop trying to fight the power, it's her! You're doing this, you're killing yourself! You have to trust her!'

'Trust her! Don't try to hold the power back from her, she can't wield it if it's not free! Trust her!'

At the same instant the choice was made in both of them: Willow gave herself over completely to pouring her energy into Tara, and Tara accepted the terrible, lethal force without fear. In that instant the storm vanished, the pain vanished – Tara remained, clad in a shimmering veil of light, all the colors at the heart of the purest crystal. She turned to Shadai, ignoring the goat-men stepping through the portals, turning their maddened eyes on the display of power taking place before them. The demon faced her, frowning slightly, biting her lip – just like Willow, faced with an unexpected question.

The aura of frost cloaking Tara surged, flowed over her body, concentrating in her chest, then her arm, her hand – finally, her spear. It was encased in ice, giving it weight, power beyond any mortal weapon. Icy barbs and edges formed on its blade, the shaft thickened, merged with Tara's gloved hand, became one with her as a frozen gauntlet wrapped around her forearm.

Shadai withdrew her claws from her flesh, pointing a blood-soaked talon at the awed demons circling the center of the tower's summit, afraid to approach the unearthly duel.

The spear sliced cleanly through her chest, impaling her, bursting from her flayed back. The ice cladding the weapon spread, though – rather than following the metal on its path through the demon's body it pierced her and reached out beneath her skin, tearing through her from within. Shadai let out a terrible yell, as if in spite of her self-inflicted mutilation she had never felt pain before, as all over her body her skin split, the gushes of blood turning cold and icy even as they began to flow from her. Through her wounds, through the layers of frozen blood and flesh consuming her, a savage crimson light shone, fighting the tide of pure blue-white ice – fighting, but losing.

She faced Tara's impassive gaze and screamed, bellowed in rage, her teeth lengthening to vicious fangs, her tongue stretching, tearing gashes in itself as it thrashed from side to side. The ice was within her now, in her heart, quelling the fire, and slowly it reached up, through her shoulders, into her face. Her skin cracked, began to fall off in glittering flakes that broke as they hit the golden dais beneath her, the flesh revealed in turn hardening, solidifying her enraged mask. Her scarlet hair turned black, then ice-white, the slender shafts cracking and breaking free as she gave a last, desperate struggle against the immobilizing cold. Last of all her eyes, the burning furies of hellfire, darkened, grew cold, as the last vapors of hatred escaped from their sockets. Then she was still and silent – she, Tara, Willow, the surrounding demon creatures, all paralyzed in fear and wonder.

Haltingly, without her usual grace, Tara stepped back, wrenching her spear free of its sheath in the demon's chest. A last flicker of crimson billowed from the gaping wound, then died, and all of a sudden hundreds of cracks were running through the icy body. It ruptured in a shattering explosion, blasting shards of frozen flesh and bone in all directions, even as the goat-men howled and burned, their bodies erupting from within in storms of ash and flame. In the portals, still shifting from scene to scene of the surrounding land, every demon that had turned towards the ancient tower, whose gaze had filled with Shadai's hateful blood-red, reared back and burned from within, their bodies tearing apart as if refusing to host their souls any longer.

Tara was aware of none of this – all she felt was Willow's hand closing on her arm, and the familiar, reassuring shiver of a chill armor cloaking her, protecting them both from the hail of shrapnel ice. She turned, staring into Willow's eyes, tried to open her mouth to speak, tried to reach out to her, but her body suddenly wouldn't answer. Her legs collapsed from beneath her, and Willow caught her as she fell.

"Tara! Tara?" Willow pleaded, landing heavily on the floor as she cradled Tara's head in her lap.

"'m okay," Tara said in a tired, slurred voice. Willow gasped in relief, even as she felt the tower shake beneath them, and her heart lurched again. She looked up – the great crystal was cracking, raining shards of itself from the wounds where Shadai's flesh had merged with it. Around them the huge columns were wavering, tiny streams of dust floating around them attesting to the turmoil inside them. Another tremor shook the tower, and from beneath came a low, terrible groaning, as of metal being twisted and tortured.

"We have to get out of here!" Willow insisted. "Come on! Tara, please!" With all the strength she could muster from her aching body, and with whatever help Tara could force from her exhausted muscles, they clung to each other and staggered upright. Willow guided them towards the nearest portal, staring fearfully down as they neared the edge of the tower – the highlands were a dizzying mile below, bathed in the darkness of the tempestuous sky.

"Ready?" she gasped, feeling Tara stagger in her arms. "Ready…please baby…now!"

From somewhere Tara found the strength to push herself forwards, and the two of them half-jumped half-fell through the whirling threshold of the portal. They landed on hard, dusty soil – Willow sobbed with relief as she felt it, even as she and Tara collapsed in a heap. A roll of thunder rippled over the highlands, drawing both their gazes. High above them, standing atop the cliff, Hellebore was dying, its death-throes echoed in the storm above it. The huge segmented foundations of the tower shuddered and moved, but with none of the mechanical grace with which it had risen. Steel beams strained against stone monoliths, scoring deep gouges into them even as they buckled; columns began to slide down into the earth before clearing the cross-beams fixed into them, tearing them free of their mountings; a huge metal helix spun off its axis, its curved tip smashing through stone blocks as it missed its track. At the pinnacle of the tower the eight columns ringing it began to slowly swing downwards, but without harmony, one moving too quickly, one apparently unable to move at all, a third shuddering, its motion coming in stops and starts. Finally one, then another, then all four on the northern side of the tower crumbled and came apart, sending huge fragments of granite and black steel showering down, smashing into the sides of the tower as they spun and tumbled.

The great crystal spire crowning Hellebore trembled and began to tip over, as it the loss of the four columns had taken its equilibrium with it. It angled over as if to fall, then suddenly whatever force held it suspended failed, and it smashed down into the top of the tower, the point of the crystal burrowing through the stone even as it exploded from the impact. An eerie green light shone from within the tower, casting shadows as fragments of falling debris and the whirling of failing mechanisms passed through the rays it shone onto the surrounding landscape. The tower began to bore its way back into the ground, its outer segments spinning slowly, like a drill tunneling into the earth, but even as it did so a massive burst of burning oil erupted from its base, followed by a huge mass of stone and steel that tore upwards through the descending structure. The whole mile-high edifice began to disintegrate, rock falling free, metal twisting and snapping, collapsing in a rain of debris, and then the ground erupted, spreading outwards from the base of the tower itself, the cliff face exploding outwards, showering fragments of stone over the plain below.

Tara, finding some reserve of strength, dragged an exhausted Willow behind an old, moss-encrusted boulder, shielding her with her own body as the debris rained around them, stroking her hair tenderly as destruction tore through the landscape. Willow clung to her, and she to Willow, two frightened children caught out in a storm. Finally the sound and fury subsided, and a shocked silence descended on the land.

Tara was the first to look up, with Willow following a second later, feeling her movement. Where the monastery, and then the tower had stood, for almost half a mile in every direction, the cliff face and highland had vanished, leaving in its place a vast crater full of stone, soil, fragments of trees and boulders split apart. Of the tower or its foundations, nothing remained.

"Holy Power That Is," Willow whispered, "that…the…" She gulped down a breath and turned to Tara. "Are you alright?"

"I'm alright," Tara breathed, still having trouble comprehending the scale of the devastation she was witness to. She in turn met Willow's worried gaze.

"I'm…I'm alright," Willow said, as if surprised. Tara rolled onto her back, exhausted, bringing Willow with her so that she ended up resting on top of her. Willow gave a weary, incredulous smile as she stared into Tara's eyes, let out a huge sigh, then looked up once more at the massive crater.

"Take that, bitch," she said dazedly, before letting her head fall onto Tara's chest.

Willow and Tara's flight through the portal atop Hellebore had deposited them almost three miles east of the cliffs – or what remained of the cliffs, now. Both were tired, Willow from calling on so much magic, Tara from channeling it, and each of them in dire need of a rest, to soothe an exhaustion that was more than physical. The walk back towards their campsite of the night before was slow, and for the most part silent. Willow in particular had barely said a word since finally hauling herself to her feet – on reaching the ridge beneath the cliff and seeing that, beyond the extent of the crater, the devastation had apparently been limited to a few minor rockslides, she had managed a small but genuine smile when Tara said she expected Anji would have been well clear of the effects of the tower's destruction. And once Tara spotted a tiny dart gliding high in the sky, and Willow was instantly alert at her side, but after watching for a moment Tara saw that it was a natural creature, not a demon. But aside from that she had spoken little, and her attention had been turned inward.

By the last light of the day they approached the boulders among which they had made camp previously. Tara felt a knot in her stomach as she saw white, freshly-broken rock strewn around, and as they drew closer they saw a section of the cliff, evidently shaken free by the tremors, had fallen onto the north side of the little enclosure, breaking apart the boulders there and tearing up the ground.

Willow leant heavily on her staff, her eyes bleakly surveying the rubble. Tara spared a moment to stand by her, placing a hand on her shoulder and receiving a grateful glance in return, then moved forward, scanning the cliff face for signs of weakness, and finding none moving into the debris, checking what had been damaged and what had remained unscathed. Willow's gaze followed her as she looked here and there, and she tilted her head, curious, as Tara climbed up onto one of the untouched boulders. Standing atop it she held her fingers to her lips and blew a piercing whistle.

A moment later Willow caught the sound of hoofbeats on the wind, and Tara smiled and jumped to the ground, taking her hand. They stood there together as, out of the fading day, Anji galloped over the ridge and down to the cliff, slowing to a walk as she approached the two women.

"Hey, girl," Willow murmured, her voice thick with tears. She took a step forward, meeting the horse as it neared, and gently leaned her head forward until she was resting her forehead on Anji's long face. The horse gave a quiet whinny and ducked slightly, brushing Willow's hair to one side.

"Yeah," Tara nodded, holding out her arms. Willow bit her lip, a look of incredible gratitude in her eyes, then she turned and stepped into Tara's embrace. Her tears began to fall the moment she buried her face in Tara's chest, and for a long time they stood there, motionless, as the sun set, and tears began to trickle silently down Tara's cheeks as Willow cried her heart out.

Anji stirred, then stepped closer and gently nudged Willow's back with her nose, prompting her to look over her shoulder.

"It's okay girl," she murmured, "I'm okay." She turned back to Tara, staring forlornly into her gaze. Her eyes were red from crying, her cheeks glistening in the scarlet sunset light.

"I'm not okay," she said quietly. Tara nodded silently, drawing her close again, smoothing her hair with one hand as the other pressed gently against her back.

"I'll-" Willow began, just as Tara was drawing a breath to speak, "I'm…it'll be alright, it will. I just need time. I just…just time. I'll be okay."

"I know baby," Tara whispered, doing nothing to disguise the heaviness her own tears had lent to her voice, "me too."

Tara held her a while longer, then by unspoken agreement they both set about making camp for the night, cleaning themselves up as best they could with just the water they could spare. Having seen the charred remains of various demons scattered about the plain, Tara felt they would be safe making a fire for the night, and set to making a suitable spot for one, clearing away a patch of the scraggly weeds that were all the greenery that had ventured close to the cliffs, and gathering some of the rocks to make a fire circle. Willow spent a few moments setting up a standing spell with her rune stones, as a precaution, then began sorting through the packs they had left at the site earlier. One had been torn as a chunk of rock gouged into the ground in which it was buried, but their losses amounted to only a few rations, and a blanket torn beyond repair.

Having relieved Anji of her saddlebags and left her grazing idly, Tara sat down next to Willow on the blankets she had laid out before the fire, and accepted the food she was offered. She reached her free hand around Willow's waist and gently hugged her, kissing the crown of her head when she ducked and rested her cheek on Tara's shoulder. They ate silently, only the quiet crackling of the fire breaking the stillness of the night, until Willow wrapped up the remainder of her share and set it aside.

"Do you want to talk?" Tara offered, reaching around Willow to draw a blanket around her shoulders. She nodded, then sighed deeply.

"It's alright," Tara assured her, "you needed time. To catch your breath…so did I."

"Thank you," Willow murmured, "you're…no-one could heal me the way you do. I love you so much."

Willow's arms went around Tara's waist and held her warmly, snuggling close beneath the blanket covering them. After a moment's silence she took a deep breath and began.

"It must have been the banishing spell," she said, her voice quiet, a little distant, "in Entsteig, all that time ago…when she was being defeated, rather than go back to hell she let her body be destroyed, and hid her soul in me…all this time."

"Something like this is…well, unheard of. Normally a banishing spell either works completely, or fails completely and the caster ends up possessed. And possession is easy to spot, if you're a powerful mage, the Council would have known right away if that had happened. And I'd have been gone…no-one could survive something like that, for this long. She…she used me, to carry her around, hidden…dormant. Unless-"

"What if she was influencing me?" she asked in a hollow voice. "Everything I did, the choices I made, what if-"

"Willow," Tara said quickly, "I stood in front of her, I felt the…what she was, in her soul, I felt it radiating off her. I've never felt that from you, never." She pressed a gentle kiss onto Willow's hair again. "You've let me into every corner of your soul, you've shown me everything that you are…I know, baby, I know that what she is, is not a part of you. It never has been. No matter how she hid in you, she never truly reached you."

"Then do," Tara said soothingly, "I do. With all my heart, Willow, I know that she has never touched your soul." She smiled, and squeezed Willow's waist gently. "It was never hers to touch."

Willow let out a breath she had been holding, chuckled quietly, then raised her head to look Tara in the eye.

"Darn right," Tara nodded. Willow's eyes widened, then she let out a genuine laugh, and suddenly the weight she had been carrying had begun to crumble.

"See?" Willow smiled. "You heal me. Gods though, all this time…all the demon creatures, the mages she influenced…no wonder it seemed like she was following us."

"Hydris, in Kingsport," Tara mused, "the Carvers and goat-men attacking the caravan, driving us towards the monastery…towards Hellebore. My goddess," she added suddenly, "do you remember what that possessed mage wrote? 'Tomorrow at noon my mistress comes'…and the next day, it would've been around noon when we first got out of the catacombs and began searching the monastery…"

"No, sweetie," Tara gently argued, "no, it wasn't you, it was her. You fought her, remember? In Entsteig, like you told me-"

"You fought her as best you could," Tara insisted, "you don't know what might have happened, if you hadn't been there, if your spell hadn't kept her busy until the other sorceresses arrived. If she'd escaped…how difficult would it have been, for her to get from there to here? To reach Hellebore on her own?"

"Difficult," Willow said at once, "she'd have to be very careful not to be tracked down…but not impossible," she admitted after a pause.

"You fought her," Tara repeated, "and even when you didn't realize she was with you, you still fought her…all this time, you did everything you could to defeat her. And you did."

"At a cost," Willow murmured, "all the people who lived here, Amalee's family, the monks-"

"I…it's just difficult to face, you know?" Willow said in a small voice. "I wonder if I could have done something differently…everything that happened, even if it was her causing it, I was at the center of it…I can't forget all that- all those people."

"I know baby," Tara whispered, "I know…that's as it should be. One life lost is too many…but one life saved…" She paused, and Willow looked up at her.

"One life saved is beyond price," she finished. "Remember all the people you saved- we saved," she corrected with a faint grin, as Willow opened her mouth to say it. "Remember them. Remember what a blessing it was to save Amalee, when a demon was laying waste to her homeland. Remember how special she is…and remember that, today, you helped save millions of lives."

"I will," Willow sighed, "and hey, you too. You don't have to worry so much about me that you ignore yourself, I mean – you had to fight her, face to face. I know that's…it's not something you can dismiss lightly."

"No it isn't," Tara agreed. Willow heard the sadness in her voice, and raised a hand to caress Tara's cheek.

"I'm so sorry you had to go through that," she said in a tiny voice. Tara nodded, then turned and kissed Willow's palm.

"Maybe it's for the best," she sighed, "now, I've seen one of the most terrible beings in creation…now I know. But she's gone, she's in hell where she belongs." She looked down and returned Willow's gesture, lightly stroking Willow's cheek, her fingertips teasing the corners of Willow's lips.

"And I've seen one of the most beautiful beings in creation," she whispered, "and she's right here…and she loves me."

"She does indeed," Willow agreed, "and she feels fortunate to be able to love you." She snuggled closer to Tara, and both turned their eyes on the fire, crackling merrily to itself.

"I feel good," Willow said, not without a little amazement. "Regardless of everything we went through…today, and before then, all of it…I feel good. That's your gift to me baby, and I love you so much for it."

"A pity about the tower," Willow sighed after a moment's peace. "It was too dangerous, of course, but…the knowledge to build something like that…I can't help being sorry it's lost now."

"Well…you remember that book that appeared on the lectern, at the bottom of the catacombs?"

"Moac's journal," Willow replied, "it vanished once the tower rose…didn't it?"

"It's – what?!" Willow twisted around, staring at Tara in confusion. She sat up straight, eyes wide.

"When it appeared," Tara explained, "you turned back to the wall, when the key was still turning…then the floor started shaking, and I grabbed the book before I lost my balance. I figured, if it was what the demons wanted, we shouldn't risk losing it…better to keep it where we could protect it, or destroy it if we had to-"

"You've had it all this time?" Willow asked, incredulous. "Why didn't you say something? When it was over, I mean?"

"You were upset," Tara pointed out gently, "and from what we saw, all the demons around here were destroyed…it didn't seem urgent. It would have distracted us from what we'd gone through, I thought…it seemed more important to me that we both concentrate on us."

Willow stared at her for a moment, then her lips spread in a grin, then she was laughing, her body shaking in Tara's arms.

"It was," Willow nodded, "like I said, I feel good now. I'm glad I didn't just push it out of my mind…that you helped me come to terms with it all, at least start to…"

"And you helped me too," Tara reminded her, "but, I meant, when we were on top of the tower…it didn't occur to me, too much was going on, but it wouldn't have helped then, would it?"

"Oh," Willow's eyes widened, then she frowned in thought. "No," she decided, "I doubt it…unless the first page was 'How to destroy the tower when someone else is controlling it,' and that seems kind of unlikely." She smiled at Tara's quiet chuckle.

"Well, we can check," she offered, reaching over to her pack. Willow held her breath as Tara placed the old book in her hands, slowly exhaling as her fingers traced the subtle contours in the leather, and the edges of the metal binding. With a trembling hand she opened the volume and carefully turned the first few pages, studying the arcane symbols and geometric diagrams traced in colored inks, in an intricate, precise hand.

"It's so old," she whispered, "but…not fragile at all…gods, the language…"

"It's ancient," Willow nodded, "I can read it, a bit…but there's so much magical theory bound up in it, it'd take weeks just to decipher it, to even begin to understand it…" Her lips moved silently as she studied the pages.

"Sounds like just the thing to keep you happy," Tara observed. Willow glanced up at her, studying her smile. Her own lips turned upwards at the corner, and she carefully closed the book and tucked it back into Tara's pack.

"You know what," she said, snuggling back up beside Tara, "it can wait. For now…I want to hold you, and cuddle, and fall asleep in your arms. That'll make me more than happy."

"Really?" Tara asked lightly, wrapping her arms around Willow. "My knowledge-girl isn't the least tempted by the ancient tome, just half a meter away?"

"Well," Willow admitted, "I wouldn't be me if I wasn't tempted…but today was a pretty good demonstration for why you shouldn't get carried away with knowledge, at the expense of everything else. You end up building towers that can bring about the end of the world, so I think…perspective. There'll be nights for staying up late, with the candles burning low, going over every page in minute detail…but this night isn't one of them." She reached over and pulled another blanket over herself and Tara, settling beside her as she lay down.

"Wisdom is easy when it leads to Tara snuggles," Willow pointed out. "I love you, you know."

"I've never forgotten it," Tara said, "not for a moment…not since…I bowed, held out my hand, and asked you to dance, and you smiled. Right then, all my doubts just…vanished."

"I remember," Willow smiled, helping Tara as she slowly undid the buckles on her armor. "When I came into the hall that evening, and saw you, and you saw me," she chuckled, "we just had to render each other speechless at the exact same moment. Was I really that good?"

"You were stunning," Tara said firmly, "just like you always are. Wearing these very clothes, too…" She undid the clasps holding Willow's battlegear on, and slowly slid the skirt down her legs, and the top over her head and down her arms. There was a moment's activity as they both kicked off their boots and leaned back, dragging their discarded clothes from beneath the blankets and laying them aside, then they were back in each other's arms, still and content in the firelight.

"Gods, what a day," Willow sighed. "Mmm…what a way to end the day, though…you know," she added, a grin teasing her lips, "if I wasn't utterly exhausted…gods I wish I had the strength to make love to you like I'm imagining…"

"And if I wasn't utterly exhausted," Tara replied, "I'd do my best to make sure that we both were, by morning."

"Mmm gorgeous," Willow murmured, "your best is better than heavenly…" Tara managed to roll over slightly, so that she and Willow lay on their sides, face to face, their arms encircling one another.

"I'd kiss you," she whispered, "again, and again…taste your lips, your mouth, so deeply…"

"Your kisses are magic," Willow sighed happily. She closed her eyes, shifting slightly to press herself a little more firmly against Tara. "Magic kisses…I'd caress your tongue as you tasted me…"

"I'd tease you into my mouth," Tara smiled, "then capture you…close my lips around your tongue, keep you right there, where I want you…and when I finally release you-"

"You won't be…you're mine…I catch your bottom lip between my teeth, hold you, sucking…roll you onto your back, straddle your hips, on top of you, pressing down on you…"

"Your hair falling around my face," Willow whispered, "your legs, so smooth…thighs pressing against my hips…"

"My breasts pressing against yours," Tara continued, "and I can feel your nipples, so hard, just like mine…rubbing together…"

"Your breath on my cheeks as you look down at me…let me feel your gaze, claiming me…"

"And," Tara said slowly, in a low, sultry murmur, "as I lower myself, my mound pressing against your stomach…hairs scratching lightly on your belly as I move…heat already coating my lips, my thighs…wetting your skin…"

"Mmm, oh…" Willow sighed, tightening her hold around Tara, "I can feel you, baby…"

"And I do," Willow breathed, "my hand goes to your head, my fingers reaching through your hair, holding you close baby, while I kiss you…just as deep as you kissed me, as long and deep and wonderful…you're moving so sexily, writhing on top of me with every breath, every heartbeat…just as if I were part of you already…not yet, but I'm close baby, so close, my hand sliding down between us, reaching for you…"

"Tickling your hairs, then further, holding you…palm and fingers, cupping your mound…"

"I know," Willow said, "I feel it…I feel you…like a river inside you, and it flows, baby, oh goddess it flows."

"For you," Tara moaned, "I flow for you." Without fully realizing, Tara's legs had parted, tangling with Willows, and their thighs were gently drawing closer to the heat burning in their cores.

"And just like a river," Willow sighed, "I test first…dipping in, just a fraction…testing the waters…"

"And it's better than perfect…I dive…plunging deep…oh baby, you're a wonder…"

"I love you," Willow replied, "I love you…seeing you like this is perfection…seeing your…your rapture…but to be part of you, within you, to give you this…oh goddess…oh goddess…" She unconsciously adjusted her arms around Tara, lower, as Tara did the same, a rhythm of gentle gyration developing between them as their soaked undergarments pressed against each other's thighs.

"And now, my goddess, I release your mouth, so I can hear you moan," Willow breathed, "I take your nipples, sucking, nibbling, drawing the most beautiful sounds from you…"

"Within you, one finger at first," Willow went on, "just one…touching you, inside…a fingertip brushing your heavenly places…but I know you want-"

"Take you," Willow finished for her, "faster now, higher…not just one finger, but two now…deep, again and again…"

"Goddess!" Tara gasped. She sought out Willow's mouth as the climax she had half-thought was in her mind erupted from her, and felt Willow shudder in her arms, her body feeling its own release, as she kissed her back, opening her lips to her, sharing her love and pleasure and bliss.

"Oh gods," Willow breathed as her body stilled, "I love you…" She kissed Tara again, and again.

"Did I get the Amazonian right?" Willow asked, snuggling tightly against Tara, pulling the blankets half-way up over her head.

"Perfectly," Tara replied, ducking down to join her in the warmth their bodies had created, "perfectly…"

The sky was still dark when Willow awoke, and for a moment she wondered what had roused her. Then she noticed an odd tickling sensation, like something touching the back of her neck. Half-way to reaching behind herself to see what it was, she realized it was a sense, not a physical sensation, and recognized it.

"The rune st-" she murmured sleepily, then Willow felt awareness race through her. In perfect silence she slid out from beneath the blankets, one hand already on her bow. In the time it took Willow to get upright Tara had pulled on her boots, knotted a spare blanket around herself as a makeshift covering, and slung her quiver over her shoulder.

"I feel it," she whispered as Willow joined her, quickly pulling her skirt on – she didn't have time to don her top, but embarrassment was far from her mind.

"It's not a small animal," she quickly explained, as the faint tinge of magic at the back of her mind subsided – whatever it was had crossed the boundary area completely.

"It's…human," Tara frowned. She fitted an arrow to her bow but kept the string loose as she aimed into the shadows.

From the cover of a half-broken boulder a figure clad in black emerged, holding a crossbow pointed safely away to the side, her other hand, on which she wore a heavy leather glove, held open and empty, unthreatening.

"I hope I'm not interrupting," she said with a sly grin. Willow quickly let go of her staff with one hand and wrapped her arm over her chest, cursing under her breath as Tara lowered her bow and bent down to fetch her a blanket.

"Sorry about that," Lindia said, "no offence meant," The noblewoman flicked a switch on her bow, causing its vanes to snap neatly back against the stock, and slipped it into place next to the quiver of bolts on her back.

"No harm done," Willow grudgingly allowed, unable to remain perturbed when confronted with the adorable sight of Tara trying not to grin. She wrapped the offered blanket around herself, and cast Tara a quick smile, just to let her know she could see the funny side of it.

"How did you do that, by the way?" Lindia asked, approaching and kneeling down to toss a little extra kindling on the fire, which had burned down during the night. "Know I was out there, I mean?"

"I know," Lindia said with a thoughtful frown, "a staggered arc with an eastern-style standing spell, wasn't it? I thought I'd gotten around it."

"Damn!" Lindia shook her head, letting her wavy blonde hair out of its ponytail. "I must be getting out of practice, I didn't think of that…how are you both?"

"We're fine," Tara said, taking a seat next to Willow, "but what are you doing out here, I thought you'd ridden north?"

"I did," the noblewoman nodded, "but then things got interesting, and…well, I should let them explain."

"There's some people who'd like to talk to you," Lindia said with an easy smile.

The sun rose while they were riding, in Lindia's wake, down towards the river. Her horse was an energetic Khejan charger, and from the way she rode it in the waning night Willow guessed she had night vision to equal Tara's. It was a somewhat unnerving experience to be almost unable to see while riding at a fast pace, but Tara's presence behind her, and Anji's beneath her, soothed her anxiety.

Just as the morning light was brightening into day proper, they crested the last ridge and saw the river laid out before them. Lindia had led them a few miles north of the old pier where they had waited for a passing ship last time, but under the circumstances Willow saw it didn't matter. Three ships were riding at anchor in the river, one a lean little pinnace, oars stowed and sail rolled up, while the others were tall warships, their hulls strong and reinforced, their decks protected by iron shields fixed to the railings, each vessel armed with a heavy siege crossbow mounted on the forward deck, and a steel-tipped ram just visible beneath the surface of the water.

A wide area of the riverbank had been cleared, and was busy with boats going to and from the big ships, unloading cargo and soldiers. Several long tents had been pitched, and officers were here and there calling orders to the squads of men occupied in the unloading, or in arming themselves for what looked like an expedition.

"Where did all this come from?" Willow wondered. "They can't have gotten here so soon, after what happened at the monastery- there hasn't even been time for word to get back to the city, has there?"

"Well, don't underestimate the speed a scout can reach after he sees a square mile of the highlands demolish itself," Lindia shrugged, "but no, you're right – we set out two days ago. The night before that – that would've been after the morning you two set out, so they tell me – a party of mages arrived in the city, with news that they suspected the realm was in danger. That set things in motion – I was with Myrreon at the time, riding back from the north as fast as we could. He had a premonition, or something of the sort, and besides there was nothing really for him to do with the army, there wasn't any real magical threat up there. Morning!" she called to one of the soldiers, on guard in front of the camp, as they neared.

"What mages?" Willow asked sharply. "The ones who arrived after we left, who were they?"

"Friends of yours, actually," Lindia said, dismounting and leaving her horse with the guard. "This way."

Tara held Willow's hand as they left Anji and followed Lindia towards one of the larger tents, where a handful of officers were milling about, talking to each other in low voices and trying not to shiver too much in the morning chill. One of them, a young lieutenant, looked up at Lindia's approach, glanced at Willow and Tara behind her, and ducked inside the tent.

"Sorceresses?" Willow guessed. "But there's no Zann Esu stationed anywhere near here, not that I know of…how could they have gotten here so fast?" She broke off as the young officer returned, with a trio of women behind him. They were indeed sorceresses – all wore the colors of the Zann Esu order, the same green material and silver adornments Willow herself wore. Two of them, Willow's age, wore battlegear identical to hers, though Tara noticed their staves were different – where Willow's was plain wood, theirs each had sculpted metal caps, one of polished bronze in the shape of a flame, the other a diamond cast in ghostly-white silver.

The third wore a simple robe in a figure-hugging cut, otherwise quite similar to those Willow had worn during her travels. She was older then the others, though the few lines that had crept in around her eyes did little to diminish her beauty. She had rich auburn hair which spilled casually across her shoulders, and her eyes were a warm brown with flecks of green that seemed to sparkle in the morning light. They lit up when she saw Willow, and she raised her staff – an elaborate weapon with a golden fleur-de-lys head – in salute.

"Hello Willow," she called, as the other two sorceresses stepped aside, "it's good to see you again."

Tara watched, unable to suppress a faint smile, as Willow ran the last few steps and hugged the older woman. Ember was instantly embracing her in return, rubbing her back, her other hand stroking Willow's hair, calming her tenderly, just as a mother would.

"I'll leave you girls to it," Lindia said from beside Tara, glancing over her shoulder at Ember and Willow as she walked back towards her horse. "Sitting around discussing…not really my area of expertise."

"Thank you for finding us," Tara said quietly, offering a hand. Lindia raised an eyebrow, then shook her hand warmly.

"Just kidding," the noblewoman winked, "you two take care of each other." With a flourish she turned and strode away, beckoning an officer to talk to as she went.

'Willow was right,' she mused, glancing at the retreating figure before turning back to the scene in front of her, 'I do need to get myself some pants like that.' Shaking her head in amusement, she watched as Willow disentangled herself from Ember's arms, looking slightly embarrassed as the other trainee sorceresses greeted her, then she turned back to Tara.

"Tara, this is- well, you know who, I just said- this is Ember," she said, grinning happily. "Ember, this is Tara, my partner."

"Co'te," Ember said quietly as she took Tara's hand. Tara tried not to be surprised as she returned the ritual greeting between warriors, reminding herself of all that Willow had told her of her mentor's immense wealth of experience and knowledge – and, she recalled a moment later, that according to her journal she had traveled with an Amazon warrior for a time, no doubt learning all she could about the culture in the process.

Ember ushered her and Willow into the tent, waving a hand to the other sorceresses, who nodded and remained outside. Inside the long tent was divided into several areas by long drapes hung from the rails supporting the roof – Ember led the way into one of these, a small enclosure with a pair of wooden benches with cushions, and a low table with a jug of water, and drew the drapes shut in their wake.

"Now I can see by that insatiably curious gleam," she began, forestalling the question on Willow's lips, "Lady Lindia didn't explain very much?"

"She said you arrived three days ago," Willow replied, "she said she'd leave the rest of the explanations to others – to you, I guess. She was acting kind of…dramatic…scared the heck out of us sneaking through the runic boundary I set up, is there something else going on?"

"That sounds like her," Ember nodded, "a fine woman and adventurer, and the one thing career adventurers always have is…?"

"A sense of theatre," Willow finished, as if remembering something she had once heard. She sat opposite Ember, on the other bench, with Tara at her side.

"Myself excepted, of course," Ember said, in a tone of voice that suggested she was quite happily making fun of herself. Tara found herself at ease in the older sorceress's presence – she was much as Willow's descriptions had led her to imagine. There was authority and dignity to her, but also a sense of fun that kept her from seeming austere or unapproachable. Tara hazarded a guess that her humor concealed a formidable woman, not only because she couldn't imagine Willow respecting anyone so much who wasn't.

"Well, first things first," she went on, pouring a glass of water each for Willow and Tara, then one for herself, "it was the report you wrote from the castle at Kingsport, about what happened with the mage there. That arrived at about the same time as we got word from the Vizjerei that there had been an incident in Kingsport, involving Shadai and one of our sorceresses. Of course they had no idea that you had been involved in her rising in Entsteig, but I didn't like the connection. There's a saying – from Entsteig, in fact – 'once is chance, twice is coincidence, three times is enemy action.'"

"Well, admittedly, at that point there wasn't a third time," Ember shrugged, "but I've learned not to give demons the benefit of the doubt. I made arrangements to suspend my teaching duties and come here, to make sure everything was all right. If it was just a coincidence, well," she waved a hand airily, a gesture that Tara recognized from Willow, and realized she must have inherited from her mentor, "no harm done, the Order can do without me for a couple of months. I had a nasty suspicion something more was going on, though…and I see I was right. I'd say I wish I'd got here sooner, but seeing as you're here and unhurt, and looking not unduly distressed, I'd say things turned out well enough."

"I can't imagine why," Ember said with a wry grin, "but the Council has gotten the idea from somewhere that wherever trouble strikes, I tend to gravitate towards it. When I told them I wanted to follow up on Hydris's attempted summoning, and see if there was more to it, they decided there probably was more to it, and formed a delegation. They're in Duncraig now – when we arrived and compared notes with Ocean, the apprentice at the Palace, we realized the situation was more dangerous than I'd feared. A few hours later the Duke's mage showed up, after riding non-stop for almost a whole day and night with his bodyguard, insisting that he'd felt signs of a 'great threat'. Between us we convinced the Duke to call the army to alert, and we amassed this little scouting party as quickly as we could. And…here we are."

She set her glass aside and leant forward, fixing Willow with her full attention.

"That's my side of the story," she went on, "now, if you're comfortable…what the hell happened?"

And Willow talked, telling her mentor everything that had happened from the moment she had set foot on Kingsport docks over a month ago, to the moment she had been awoken by Lindia's approach just a few hours before. She omitted nothing – after a glance at Tara, to which Tara gave her a reassuring smile and a little nod, she told Ember about their relationship, not in any intimate detail but enough, in a discreet fashion, that the progress of their friendship and then love was woven into the story, along with Willow's studies, their travels, the dangers, the friends they had met and made, even such incidental details as their dance in Kingsport castle, and the trip to the opera in Duncraig.

Ember interrupted Willow only three times, through the several hours it took for her to recount the entire tale. The first time was after just a couple of minutes, when Willow was deep in discussing the books she had acquired from the mages she had visited in Kingsport on the first day – admitting she had missed Willow's exhaustive accounts of everything she did, Ember had halted the story just long enough to have a hearty breakfast brought in from the camp's kitchen tent. The second was several hours later, this time for lunch. Each time, once the food had been delivered and Willow had resumed the telling of their story, Tara was intrigued to watch Ember add a few spices to the dishes, and found them much more appetizing than the usual camp fare as a result. She wondered privately if the older sorceress has imparted some of that skill on Willow as well, of if their shared culinary talent was coincidence.

The other time Ember spoke was a couple of hours into the afternoon, as Willow was describing their encounter with the wraith in the lower levels of the Hellebore catacombs. Ember leaned forward, momentarily ceasing writing the notes she had been making as Willow talked, and seemed to be hanging on every word as she described its attack on Tara, and her subsequent banishing of the unearthly creature.

"Yes…that's the idea with wraiths, you taught me that." Willow glanced at Tara, shrugging vaguely.

"It's just that old wraiths are rare," Ember said, leaning back, "difficult to find, not that many people actually try, there's very little known about them, except that they're supposedly exceptionally difficult to destroy." She paused, then glanced at Tara. "Of course, it was threatening you at the time," she noted.

"Giving you a very strong incentive to banish it," Ember nodded, turning her attention back to Willow, "interesting…there might be something to the psychic theory behind them, you think?"

"That it's the psychic impulse that damages them, not the physical blow," Willow mused, "having seen one, that's my guess. Of course, it was only one 'test' – I'd recommend further research, only no thanks." Ember gave a little snort of laughter, and gestured for Willow to continue.

When Willow got to the moment where Shadai had made herself known, and revealed quietly that the demon had been within her all along, Ember's eyes widened, but she remained silent. Willow reached for Tara's hand and held it as she recounted the events on the top of the tower, tense at first, but relaxing as Tara gently stroked her thumb back and forth across the back of her hand. The older sorceress looked at Tara, studying her intently, as Willow had described the combined spell they had managed to defeat Shadai. Something in her gaze was different to any expression she had shown so far, and in fact different to how Tara had imagined her, from Willow's description of the woman who had 'seen everything and been everywhere'. She wondered if Willow had actually surprised Ember.

"Well," Ember said at last, when Willow had finished, "that's…quite a tale. Quite a tale…it bring some puzzling details into sharp focus. Hydris, for one – the Vizjerei were adamant that he didn't have the power to do what he was accused of having done. There's been talk among the clan, so I've heard, of ruling that the Baron's investigation was over-zealous – they'd do nothing to harm him," she added quickly, as both Willow and Tara looked suddenly anxious, "after all, the fact that he was involved in demonology is undisputed. Your gathering of evidence," she looked to Willow specifically, "was above reproach."

"Nothing to do with me," Ember replied with a smile, "you had the academic skills of a sorceress long before we met…At any rate, the Vizjerei debate much and move slowly as a rule, and their delegation won't have reached Kingsport yet. In light of what you've told me, the Council will I'm sure send a representative to wait for them there, to enlighten them."

"What was he trying to do?" Tara asked as Ember paused. "Hydris, I mean. If it wasn't a summoning…?"

"It was a summoning of a kind," Ember explained, "the ritual preparations you examined, and Willow documented most thoroughly, prove as much. But there were variations in the spell, which only an experienced eye would see…believe me, I've seen more than my share of summoning circles in my time." She chuckled mirthlessly to herself, then fixed Willow with a kind look.

"You were in control," she said, "to Shadai, that was a huge problem. Though she was within you, she was unable to command you – it's a fact," she said, glancing at Tara as if to include her in the discussion, "that demonic possession, immediate control, requires the consent of the host. Not necessarily on a conscious level, but on some level, whether it be subconscious, as a result of duplicity, even accidental. You would never give her that, not even accidentally – not after what happened in Entsteig." Willow nodded fervently, suppressing a shiver.

"So she was safe, but trapped," Ember leant back, "concealed from all manner of magic, which would detect only your soul, not the demon lurking in its shadow. Until she had Hellebore to protect her, she was safe only so long as she remained hidden. But a helpless passenger. She had to use what influence she could exert on…susceptible minds, demons and their followers, to try to steer you in the direction she wanted you to go. No easy task, and demons hate relying on humans. Well, you saw what happened the first time you went to the monastery – her servant took his own life, and you left the catacombs behind you, despite that being the very place she wanted you to be. She probably foresaw, or feared, something of the kind, and hoped to subdue your mind – a variant on a summoning, to summon her partly into your soul. Difficult…impossible had she not been within you to begin with. But under the circumstances…well, it's all guesswork, no one but the damned know that kind of magic well enough to be sure. But I think that's what was being attempted. If the mage at the monastery had lived, perhaps he'd have tried the same ritual."

"I was lucky," Willow said bleakly, "if he hadn't been discovered by accident before he got me-"

"You were both lucky, many times," Ember interrupted, "but fortune exists, good and bad. During this whole, difficult time, you two have done everything in your power to find and seize good fortune, and make it your own. Sometimes," her eyes grew distant, "sometimes we survive by the merest of margins…" She shrugged and offered Willow a gentle smile. "But try not to dwell on it. What would your Athulua's consort say?" she asked Tara.

"She…oh," her eyes lit up in realization, "'Be grateful of our fortunes, and fear not that which has not come to pass.' When Athulua rescued Kethryes from her old lord's army," she explained to Willow, "afterwards she was upset about whether she could have been too late, and lost her. That was what she said to her, to console her."

"I…" she said, unable to keep a smile from her lips, "…I'll try." Tara nodded, and squeezed her hand comfortingly.

"Um, about the book," Willow said, to cover the blush creeping up her cheeks, as she turned back to Ember. Tara reached behind their bench to where their bags were lying on the ground, and retrieved the ancient volume for Willow. She took it and laid it almost reverentially on the table, between herself and Ember.

"Yes," the older sorceress whispered, betraying a little awe, "Moac's journal…how much have you read?"

"I, uh, just glanced at it," Willow admitted, "I haven't really read any." Ember's eyebrow quirked up.

"You've had this a whole night, and you haven't read it?" She grinned impishly. "Are you sure you're feeling alright?" Tara couldn't suppress a chuckle, and Willow shot her a frown, belied by her smile.

"I had more important things on my mind," she explained. Ember looked at her warmly, for a moment exactly like a proud parent would, then leaned forward and ran her fingers over the book's dark red leather cover.

"There's a space saved for this in the vaults," she said quietly, "among all the very, very powerful texts…even though no-one really believed it existed."

"It belongs there," Willow said firmly, "it'll be safe there." Ember looked up at her, once more warm with admiration.

"It can travel with the delegation from the Council," she said, picking up the book, "there's no safer way to get it to Kurast…and you should give it to them." She handed the volume back to a surprised Willow.

"Me?" she squeaked. "Why? I mean, you're my sponsor…a-and you can protect it better until then-"

"We'll be traveling together," Ember said, "the Dauntless will have unloaded her complement of men by now, so she'll be setting sail for the city tonight, while the Valiant stays here. You can both stay in the cabin they gave me, you could use the rest I imagine – I'll be up most of the night anyway briefing the Duke's field advisors. The ship's rigged for cavalry transport, so you won't have to leave your horse…how did you get her onto a horse that big?" she asked Tara with a wry smile.

"It took some doing," Tara said, receiving a playful elbow in her side in reply.

"We can go on board now, if you'd like," Ember went on, "there's no reason not to, and trust me, the food in the officer's mess is better than what they'll serve the troops out here. You'll have time to get cleaned up before dinner. Fiara?" she called, summoning one of the younger sorceresses.

"See Willow and Lady Tara onto the next launch for the Dauntless – we'll all be going aboard, I'll brief you and Lusilla there. You'll both be scouting the ruins tomorrow, but you'll be able to get some rest tonight. The danger we were concerned with has been dealt with. I'll be returning to Duncraig tonight, I'll be back in a couple of days."

"Yes ma'am," Fiara said, ducking her head, then leaving with a curious glance at Willow and Tara. Ember stood, and Willow stood with her as if out of habit – Tara got a glimpse of the bond between them, the time they had spent together as teacher and pupil.

"Ember?" Willow asked as Tara stood at her side, "is…it is over, isn't it?" Ember looked at her levelly, then smiled kindly.

"She couldn't…have escaped again? Like before," Willow asked, choosing her words with care. Ember regarded her sadly, then opened her arms, and Willow stepped forward into her embrace.

"I'm so sorry," the older sorceress whispered, just loud enough for Tara to hear. "If we'd known, been able to tell somehow…if we could have spared you all this…" She sighed deeply, then stood back a pace from Willow.

"I fully believe," she said firmly, "that Shadai, even if she had tried, would have been unable to return to you. Before, in Entsteig, we had no idea, the notion that she'd do something so dangerous, that the banishing spell gave her a means to hide within you…" She shook her head sadly, then met Willow's gaze again. "Now we know. More importantly, you know. This time there was no spell for her to take advantage of…and this time you know what she did to you. A demon, no matter how powerful, can never possess those who don't allow them to do so."

"She never did," Tara said firmly. Ember looked at her, surprised at the certainty in her voice, perhaps surprised too at being challenged, then nodded.

"She didn't know," she replied, turning back to Willow, "and that was our fault, not hers. But if you had ever become aware of the demon's presence," she added in a level voice, "I am absolutely sure she would have been forced from you. No matter how powerful the demon, within yourself you are more powerful." Willow nodded, then reached for Tara's hand and held it gently, reassuringly.

"A mage powerful enough and twisted enough to succeed in summoning a demon of her power comes around once in a lifetime," Ember went on, "if that, and most never get the chance anyway. I honestly believe she'll never trouble you again. That's the best I can offer."

"It's enough," Willow said, swallowing to steady her voice. She faced Tara and regarded her with warm eyes.

"It's over," Tara murmured, reaching forward to embrace her. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Ember turn away, giving them a little privacy at least, but then she had eyes only for Willow, who smiled back at her as her arms circled her waist.

"It's over," she echoed in a whisper, before her lips sought out Tara's for a quick, gentle kiss. They lingered for a moment, then reluctantly separated. Willow led the way out of the enclosure within the tent, but Ember reached out and touched Tara's shoulder as she passed, halting her. She looked like she was about to speak, then paused, as if gathering her thoughts.

"I-I'm sorry if I was rude," Tara began, "I know you'd never have let this happen, if you could have prevented-"

"No," Ember interrupted, "no, it's not that…objectively, perhaps, there was nothing that could have been done, but if you blame me, I find can only agree with you."

"I understand," Ember nodded, "likewise, I'd do anything for her…though," she looked at Tara with a curious smile, "I think only you could have saved her."

"I always knew she'd accomplish something truly remarkable. I thank you for what you've done, Tara. And for what you'll keep doing as long as you and she live."

"I know," Ember said, taking her gently by the elbow and leading her out to where Willow and the other sorceresses were waiting, "that's worth my thanks any day."

Ember's cabin on the Dauntless was not particularly spacious, but the quality of the furnishings made up for it. All the furniture was fixed to the deck – a small writing desk, a closet large enough for just a handful of garments, a deep trunk in the corner, and the bunk set into the wall, just the size of a single bed. Someone anticipating their arrival had lit the two oil lamps, one on either side of the cabin, which was on the port side and getting none of the westering sun's light through its small glass-paned porthole. The ensign who had carried their packs from the launch deposited them neatly by the trunk, saluted, and left, closing the door softly behind him.

"You mind sleeping in close quarters tonight?" Willow smiled wearily as she sat on the protruding edge of the bunk.

"With you, I was happy on the ground," Tara said, sitting next to her and putting an arm around her waist, "this is luxury. Tired?"

"Physically, not really," Willow shrugged, "mentally…ready to drop like a stone."

"She looked fine," Tara assured her – they had left Anji on the shore, waiting for a cavalry barge to take her over to the ship, where the last horses were just being unloaded from the stable deck via a large ramp. "She's probably been on a boat before…I guess all the army's horses would at least be taken on board a transport now and then, to get them used to it in case they needed to be moved by boat. We can go down and check on her once she's on board, if you like?"

"Okay-" Willow's breath caught just after she agreed. "Wait…the rest of the horses have been offloaded, right?"

"Okay," Willow sighed with relief, "I mean, I'm getting better with horses…well, with Anji. A whole stable full of chargers, though…and they probably get excited when they're being shipped…"

"If there's any other horses down there," Tara promised in a whisper, "I'll make sure they're all very nice to you." Willow laughed, then turned to face Tara, resting a hand casually on her thigh.

"I know sweetie. I love you too." They remained still in content silence for a while, Willow resting her head on Tara's shoulder, Tara in turn lightly resting her cheek against Willow's crown, pressing a soft kiss into her slightly tangled hair now and then.

"Hey," Willow murmured eventually, giving Tara's thigh a squeeze, "what do you say we get cleaned up, then go down to the stable deck before dinner?"

"Sounds good," Tara smiled. She got to her feet and held Willow's hands, pretending to pull her upright as she got up, feigning exhaustion. "Do you think they've got a bathtub we can haul in here?"

"Why," Willow grinned slyly, "are you hoping to get me all wet and play with me?"

"I might be," Tara allowed with a wink, "do you think you might like to get wet and be played with?"

"I feel lucky," Tara replied, stepping lithely behind Willow and leaning down to nip at her ear, while her hands roamed over her bare stomach.

"Mmm," Willow purred, "you'll be feeling a lot more…come on, I'm suddenly in a hurry."

The officers' latrine on board proved to be a stylishly appointed bathroom, complete with a bath, but both women decided they'd rather enjoy the privacy of their cabin. Ember was climbing the ladder from another shore launch just in time to see Willow and Tara hauling an iron bathtub, spare from the enlisted men's facilities, across the deck towards the short flight of stairs leading to the cabin deck.

"Oh," Willow paused, smiling sheepishly, "um, do you need your cabin? We could…um…"

"I'll just be a moment," the sorceress said, "I just need to grab a couple of books I left in the desk and I'll be out of your way for the night. Not wasting any time, I see," she added in an undertone which made Willow blush quite adorably, or so it seemed to Tara who watched her with concealed amusement.

"Well," Willow said, not meeting her mentor's eye, "we have been out of civilization for a few days…" Ember stepped ahead of them and pushed open the cabin door.

"Ah, civilization," she smiled to herself, "regular meals, soft beds and hot baths." She stood aside as Willow and Tara rolled the tub through the doorway and maneuvered it so that it would fit in the cabin's limited floor space. "You'll get the first two from the boat, but if you want a hand with the other…?"

"If it's no trouble?" Willow asked in reply, as Tara looked from one to the other of them, trying to work out exactly what they were discussing. Ember shook her head and shrugged, and Willow knelt by the tub, holding her hands out, palm down. Tara watched, smiling at herself being proud of Willow, as water coalesced out of the air and filled the tub.

"Keeping an eye on the book?" Ember asked, as Willow stood up and she knelt down in her place. Willow patted the satchel slung over her shoulder, which hadn't left her since they had boarded the Dauntless.

"Good girl," Ember said absently. She frowned in thought for a moment, then touched a fingertips to the water. Tara thought she saw the merest hint of something spread from the sorceresses fingers, like a wave of sunlight, then she withdrew her hand and stood up, leaving the water steaming nicely.

"Anytime," Ember said offhandedly, fishing a couple of slim books out of the desk drawers and retreating to the doorway. "Don't do anything I wouldn't," she grinned in parting, closing the door behind her.

"Don't mind her," Willow shrugged, sauntering over to Tara and stroking her cheek as she blushed slightly, "I think she's been waiting years to tease me."

"Uh-huh," Tara said, her bashful smile turning sultry under Willow's caress, "well, there is one thing you can do that she wouldn't."

Tara sat on the bed and watched Willow conscientiously store away all their belongings in the cabin's trunk. Or rather, she simply watched Willow – the trim expanse of her abdomen, the twist of her waist as she reached behind herself for her pack, left lying on the deck, her arms, moving surely and efficiently as she stowed the pack along with their other gear, the curve of her buttocks as she crouched down, securing the trunk's latch, and her skirt drew tight around her hips, the lean curves of her legs as she stood back up, stretching up on her toes for a moment…

'Look at you, you're practically salivating,' she thought to herself. She and Willow had teased and pampered one another as they bathed earlier, taking their time in bestowing lingering caresses over every available inch of skin. And as a result, the water had cooled by the time they had progressed as far as teasing foreplay could take them. Tara had had just enough possession of her thoughts to realize that the water was getting cold, along with the air as the afternoon waned into evening outside, and had calmed herself before she and Willow had gone so far that any effort to back off would have been truly futile. Willow had briefly pondered whether she could get Ember to give the bath another burst of heat, but in light of her and Tara's condition, naked, wet and thoroughly aroused, decided she's never live down the teasing.

Visiting Anji on the stable deck, where she seemed quite content despite the boat's gentle rocking, had taken their minds off their mutual pressing need for a short while, but dinner had been a kind of torture. Fortunately few people had been dining with them in the officer's mess – a pair of ensigns at the other end of the table, and a lieutenant about to begin the night shift having breakfast, the others being occupied with the same briefing that Ember was attending. Having no need of their boots on the boat's smooth decks neither Willow nor Tara had worn them, and most of the meal was spent trying to appear casual while beneath the table their feet were stroking each other's calves and shins. The contact helped ease some of the need, just enough to get through dinner – though at times, Tara seriously wondered whether she'd be able to get through her meal without leaping over the table and devouring Willow instead.

Willow was far from immune herself – on their way back to their cabin Tara had nudged against her in a tight stairway, and in the space of a heartbeat found herself up against the wall with Willow pressed against her, kissing hungrily. It had taken a deep, shuddering breath for Willow to rein herself in and keep herself in check thereafter, and they had both hurried back to privacy.

Now, watching Willow disrobe, Tara was able to keep her hands to herself purely because she knew she wouldn't have to wait much longer. That, and the way Willow turned this way and that as she undressed, exposing one slender curve at a time. By the time she was naked save for her underwear there wasn't a single part of her Tara wasn't fantasizing about, and to judge by the glitter in her eyes as she turned off one of the cabin's oil lamps and sauntered over to the bunk, she knew it.

"What's this for?" Tara asked lightly, hooking a finger in the waistband as Willow sat next to her, and tugging the thin material a little way down her hips.

"I thought you'd like to do the honors," Willow smiled, reaching for the buckles on Tara's leathers. Tara leaned back as Willow loosened her armor, then lifted her arms to let her lift the leather off her torso. The moment it had fallen to the deck Willow was kissing her, starting voraciously with her lips before moving down to her neck and collarbone, licking an sucking the tender skin there.

"Oh gods," she gasped between kisses, "what on earth…gave me the idea…I could resist you…even for a couple…of hours…?"

"Mmm, oh baby," Tara shuddered as she felt Willow's lips close around her nipple, "oh…oooh, goddess…" Willow sucked at her, her tongue dancing around the hard nub of flesh in her mouth, while one hand cupped her other breast, squeezing the soft mound. Her free hand went to the waist of Tara's skirt, deftly undoing it, then sliding beneath her bottom to urge her to lift up, so she could slide the skirt away.

"That's so…so…ah…oh goddess," Tara moaned as Willow switched breasts, her fingers keeping the glistening nipple thus revealed fully stimulated.

"You were saying something?" she said in a sexy murmur, leaving her hands to attend to Tara's bosom for a moment as she moved upwards, brushing her lips on Tara's as she spoke. Tara shook her head, then lifted her hands to hold Willow firmly as she kissed her, her fingers running through her freshly washed scarlet hair as her tongue delved deep into her mouth. Longer and longer she held the kiss, leaving no depth of Willow's unexplored – first she felt Willow shuddering against her, then her hands moved to her back, holding helplessly, and finally her legs gave out and she let herself fall against Tara, moaning unashamedly into her mouth.

"Good kiss?" Tara purred when she finally released Willow's lips. Willow let out a sob of pleasure and opened her eyes, taking a moment before she could properly focus on the woman smiling at her.

"Take me," she whimpered. Tara's smile widened, and she sat up, lifting Willow with her as she moved.

"You're still a little overdressed," she murmured in Willow's ear, stroking the smoothness of Willow's underwear. When her fingertips brushed against her mound, clad only in thin fabric, Willow's legs again failed her, and she clung to Tara and moaned, her hips trembling.

"Oh goddess," she breathed, with a delirious smile, "I can't even stand when you touch me." With some effort she managed to get a hand to the brass rail set above the bunk's recess in the wall, and held herself up as she stood. Tara ran her hands up and down Willow's sides as she reached her other arm up, doubling her grip, then, finding herself at just the right height, began tasting her breasts with long, deliberately slow licks.

"Uh," Willow gave voice to a high-pitched whimper. Tara looked up at her face, set in an expression of desperate pleasure, and felt that sight alone stir her to the depths of her soul.

"Hold on," she whispered, her lips brushing Willow's cleavage, "I'm going to take you for a ride."

"Take me," Willow whispered again, so softly she barely spoke at all. Tara's lips curled into a sexy smirk as she lithely uncoiled from the bunk, sliding her hands around Willow's waist as she moved behind her, pressing her forward.

"Like this?" she purred, sucking delicately on Willow's neck, her hands beginning to wander over her body. Willow nodded mutely, her mouth hanging open, eyes tightly closed.

"Like this?" Tara went on, bringing her hands up beneath Willow's breasts, lifting them then letting them slip into her grip, feeling her nipples straining against her palms. She moved her kisses down to Willow's shoulder, and began rhythmically squeezing and stroking the soft mounds in her hands in time with the caresses of her lips against her skin.

"Uh…yeah…" Willow moaned, unconsciously grinding her hips against Tara's pelvis. She let her head fall back just as Tara lifted hers, and their lips met in a devastating kiss. Their bodies moved as one, curving and stretching against each other, fitting together perfectly. Tara's hands moved down, one wrapping tightly, possessively, around Willow's waist, the other stroking her hip, slowly edging around towards the junction of her thighs. First one then the other of Willow's hands left the rail she had been holding, instead reaching back, stroking Tara's sides firmly, moving down to her waist, down to her buttocks where Tara's leather underwear covered almost nothing, cupping them, pulling Tara against herself.

"Goddess," she gasped, her word muffled against Tara's lips, "so very sexy…" With a parting kiss Tara quickly ducked around Willow, reversing their positions so that she was now pressed against Willow's front. Reaching back to hold Willow to her she crouched slowly then straightened, luxuriating in the feel of Willow's smooth skin against her naked rear.

"You like that, huh?" she murmured, her voice starting to become ragged as Willow wasted no time in taking advantage of her new position. One hand alternated between Tara's breasts, back and forth, holding, squeezing, tantalizing and deftly stroking her nipples to hard peaks. The other cupped her mound, pressing against the leather that was all the clothing that the two of them had left between them. Tara gave a loud, primal moan as Willow's touch soared through her.

"Now who's being taken on a ride?" Willow purred, licking Tara's neck, up to her ear. Her fingers moved lower, between Tara's thighs, feeling the warmth beneath the leather covering her.

"Goddess," she whispered, breathing hard against the glistening marks her kisses had left on Tara's skin, "you're so wet…it's just flowing out of you, isn't it? Too much for this little scrap to contain," she tugged gently at the underwear, "you're coating your thighs, soaking your leather, you're so hot…just waiting for me, aren't you?"

"Y-yes," Tara gasped, "for you…" She almost stumbled, overcome by her need, as Willow covered her entire mound with her hand and pressed inwards, grinding her aching clit against the leather between them.

"You know what," Willow continued, "now you feel a bit unsteady, don't you? Can't have you falling over, my vixen angel, maybe you should hold onto something, hmm? Ah, not yet," she added quickly, as Tara's hands began to rise, "you never finished undressing, you naughty beauty…first things first."

Craning her neck to fix Willow with a sultry smile, Tara arched her back just a little, separating herself a fraction from Willow's body as her thumbs hooked into the waist of her underwear. Slowly, staring at Willow all the while, she bent at the waist, her hips pressing backwards against Willow as she pulled the offending undergarment down her legs. Releasing Tara from her hold, Willow gently stroked her back as she leant down, and then straightened.

"You know how beautiful you are?" she whispered as Tara stood back up. Tara tilted her head back, all the invitation Willow needed to capture her lips and taste her again. The kiss was short and intense – Tara pulled back, closed her hands around the brass railing above her, and planted her feet wide apart on the deck.

The raw desire carried in her words jolted Willow to action the moment they were past her lips. Claiming her mouth in another searing kiss, Willow held her with one arm, wrapped tightly about her waist, while her other hand went down, where Tara desperately needed her. Feeling the blistering heat, the copious wetness, she wasted no time, stroking two fingertips down through Tara's folds to her entrance and then rising up within her. She swallowed the passionate moan that welled up from Tara's throat and thrust again, and again, exulting in the wave of ecstatic motion that shuddered through the body in her arms each time.

Tara writhed in her grip, her hips circling, rising and falling, giving herself to Willow with utter abandon. Each time Willow's fingers withdrew she would bend her knees, her body pursuing the intruding digits as far as she could, unwilling to bear their retreat. Each time she thrust, touching a spectacle of passion within Tara's core, she would lift herself up on her toes, arching her back – she moved in time with Willow, her whole body echoing the motion of her hand between her legs, moving with rather than against it, so that as Willow made love to her, it seemed to both of them that her entire being was reaping the joy of her deepest touch.

Throughout their lips remained locked, each stealing breath here and there, but never leaving the kiss that completed the cycle within their two bodies – their lips seemed joined, allowed love and passion to flow between them just as below, with every thrust, there seemed less and less distinction between giving and receiving pleasure, between making love and being made love to, between Willow's fingers plunging deep and Tara's channel welcoming her with flood tides of arousal.

Tara's climax burst upon her like the rising sun shining on the ocean – for a split second she could feel the single gathering of intense, pure love within her, then every part of her was lighting up, reflecting the brilliance of what Willow had given her. She shuddered uncontrollably in Willow's arms, moving faster and faster until finally she could only thrust herself down, one last time, burying Willow within her as her juices flowed, her body shivered at the waves of heat crashing within her. Behind her clenched eyelids she was staring into a private realm only she and Willow could enter, where the ground beneath their feet, the sun in the sky, the air they breathed was fashioned from each other's love.

Secure in Willow's grip, her arms supporting her weight, Tara let her head fall forwards as Willow released her lips at last. She felt too close to Willow to describe – she felt Willow's heartbeat in every part of herself, touching off aftershocks of bliss. She gave a soft, sated moan as she felt Willow's lips touch her ear, her tongue flicking out to taste her skin.

"You are a goddess," Willow whispered, "and I love you, my goddess…there is nothing in this world that can make me feel better than I do right now."

With a shuddering breath Tara regained her balance and turned around, gasping as she felt the fingers withdraw from her, sighing as she caught Willow in a warm embrace.

"You wanna bet?" she breathed, just as Willow had begun to relax into her arms. Willow straightened, then gave a delighted squeal as Tara quickly reached behind her shoulders and knees and picked her up.

"You most certainly are," Tara said, turning and laying Willow down on the bunk, "I never forget a promise I make to the woman I love with all my heart." She climbed into the bunk, straddling Willow and staring down at her.

"I'd say get ready," she grinned, "but, love, it won't make any difference at all."

Willow woke to find the sun already streaming in through the cabin's porthole, high in the sky outside. 'Huh…overslept,' she thought with a sly grin. Then her grin widened into a content smile as she remembered the fragments of dreams that she could call to mind – vague images, shapes in shadow…She leaned her head down to Tara's, resting peacefully on her chest, and gave her a soft kiss on her forehead before tilting her head so that her cheek rested against Tara's hair.

'Thank you, love,' she mused silently, 'they would've been nightmares but for you.' She accepted with a rueful grin that, thanks to their journey and the battles they had fought, they were both due some nightmares for a while, until they could put everything behind them. She offered a prayer that Tara had found as much comfort and security during the night in her embrace as she had in Tara's, if her dreams had been troubled.

At the same time though, she realized with a pleasant start that the last couple of nights had been different, in a way that was difficult to describe. For a long time her nightmares had been disturbing, difficult to cope with, such that she had fallen into the habit of doing her best to banish their memory from her mind on waking, rather than simply dismissing them as bad dreams. 'Since Entsteig,' she thought, 'that makes sense…' Disturbed dreams had been no surprise then, for her or for Ember, who most often was the one who had comforted her in the immediate aftermath, when she would wake up in the middle of the night with a hysterical scream. Of course her mind would try to deal with the terror it had seen as best it could…it was only now, with the benefit of hindsight, that Willow realized the dreams hadn't faded as they should have.

'Because she was still in there,' she thought with a mild frown of disgust. Ironically, her most recent bad dreams cheered her – they were just dreams, no more. In time they would fade, and simply be part of her life and memory. She felt as if a weight had lifted from her, just as she had the day before, when Ember had given her assurance that Shadai was gone, that her ordeal was over.

Tara stirred, and Willow automatically stroked her hair, soothing her. Despite that, or perhaps because of it, she eventually lifted her head and looked at Willow, blinking slowly in the sunlight.

"S'alright," Tara shrugged, "gotta get up sooner or later." She yawned, and looked around. "We slept in?"

"Well, when you put it that way," Tara grinned, sliding up beside Willow and resting her head on the pillow beside her, nuzzling in her tangled hair. "I feel like I've slept forever," she sighed happily, her words making Willow shiver as her breathing brushed against her ear.

"I don't think we slept quite forever," Willow said, reaching her arms around Tara's waist and squeezing lightly. "I mean, I can hear the crew out on the deck…unless they're descendants of the original crew, or something…even so, we'd only have slept for several generations, not actually forever…"

"You're entirely too coherent for this early in the morning," Tara protested with a gentle laugh.

"I thought we'd established it's late in the morning, sleepyhead?" Willow teased. Tara chuckled, her hands sliding slowly along the length of Willow's body. Willow sighed happily, and was completely unprepared when Tara's fingers began tickling her mercilessly.

"Ah! You…sneaky…Amazon…" she gasped, wriggling in Tara's embrace and doing her best to repay the assault in kind, while at the same time trying to keep her sides shielded from Tara's fingers. Somehow, Tara always seemed to slip by her defenses, and her body was always at just the wrong angle to be vulnerable.

"Okay, okay!" she squealed eventually, giggling uncontrollably, "I give up…" Tara lay down atop her, pressing light kisses up and down her neck and over her shoulder as she caught her breath. "You're terrible, you know that?"

"You got me," Willow admitted, "I do indeed…one day, though," she said warningly.

"One day," Willow repeated, "I'm going to get the drop on you, and then, my pretty Amazon, I'll have my revenge for every single tickle you've ever given me."

"Oh, you don't think I can tickle you?" Willow challenged, running a fingertip up Tara's back, drawing a shiver from her.

"Impossible," she replied. "No matter what you do, I'll just-" she undulated her hips invitingly "-wriggle my way free."

"Wriggling won't save you," Willow shot back, stealing a kiss on Tara's lips as she smiled.

"Oh yes it will," she grinned, "you wouldn't believe how I can wriggle…watch this." Pulling back the covers of the cramped bunk she slid off and stood beside it, while Willow sat up and crossed her legs beneath her.

"Warrior training," Tara explained, stretching up on her toes, touching the cabin ceiling above her with outstretched arms, "for fighting in the treetops – flexibility is very important."

She stood right in front of Willow, gave her a wink, then bent gracefully backwards until her palms were flat on the deck, her toned body curved like an arch. She craned her neck back further, so that she could look back at Willow from between her legs.

"Are you paying attention," she asked with a grin, "or just taking the chance to ogle me?"

"There's some rule that I can't do both?" she replied. In truth, Tara's position had immediately brought to mind any number of interesting fantasies, and Willow soaked up the sight of her body arched over, her smooth skin warmed by the sunlight falling across it, the curves of her torso and limbs – and the tempting shine of moisture at the apex of her thighs, showing that Willow wasn't the only one feeling stimulated after their bout of tickling.

Tara laughed and, with a quick push from her toes, sent her legs reaching up above her. Standing on her elbows, with her hands resting casually on the deck before her, there was just enough room to accommodate her in the cabin. She stretched a little, and touched her toes to the ceiling.

"Wow," Willow said earnestly, getting off the bunk and walking around in front of Tara, who looked up at her with a wide smile. "I didn't know you could do that."

"There's all sorts of things I can do," Tara said, with a tilt of her head that, upside-down, Willow couldn't help grinning at.

"Oh, a few minutes. More than that and the blood rushes to my head big time, and it feels weird coming back down…but for a few minutes, it's fine…" She let her left leg down until it was stretched out sideways, horizontal, then swung it around to Willow's side and hooked her lower leg around her waist.

"Still think you can out-wriggle me?" she grinned seductively. With a gentle tug from her, Willow knelt down and ran her hands down Tara's inverted back.

"Oh, I think you're thinking one thing very, very strongly," Tara murmured. She craned her head forward, reaching as Willow spread her knees wider, shifting her hips forward, her center tantalizingly close. Her other leg also lowered, bending around behind Willow's shoulders as she leant forward, entranced by the sight of Tara's glistening folds waiting for her. It was like some strange dream, Willow mused as the scent of Tara's arousal reached her, a blissful escape from reality…

"Oh my gods you're sexy," she whispered, yearning to lean forward the final fraction, yet holding herself in check, drawing out the moment.

"You make me sexy," Tara replied in a hushed voice, "the way you stare at me, what I see in your eyes…" Her legs tightened their embrace just a fraction. "Let me taste you, my lover…my Willow…"

So rapt in Tara was Willow, that she had no idea for a moment what the intruding sound was when it reached her ears. Then she realized someone was knocking at the cabin door.

"Damn!" she whispered, leaning back. Tara's legs released her, and somehow, in the half-meter of floor between herself and the bunk, she managed to roll backwards and end up crouching right way up, tossing her head back to get her hair out of her eyes. Willow licked her lips at the sight of her – 'like a big cat on the prowl,' she thought – before another knock at the door drew her out of her distraction.

"Just a minute!" she called, getting to her feet as Tara quickly ducked back into the bunk and pulled the covers over herself. "Whoever you are, this had better be good," Willow muttered to herself, reaching for the door handle.

"Wha? Oh." Grinning sheepishly, she crossed to the closet and pulled on a long, warm robe she found hanging inside. She pulled the front tightly closed and tied the sash firmly, glancing down to confirm that she was very respectably covered, then crossed the cabin again and opened the door.

"You don't have to be so cheerful about it," Willow complained, though she couldn't keep a grin from tugging at her lips. "Um, come in, or-"

"Ah, no need," Ember replied, glancing over Willow's shoulder, to see Tara peering around the bunk's headboard, with the blankets drawn tightly over her shoulders. "I just thought you'd like these," she offered Willow a cloth-wrapped bundle, "we brought spare outfits, these should fit you…seeing as you've been in the same clothes for a while now, I thought you'd like a change?"

"A change- oh!" Willow exclaimed, unwrapping the bundle to reveal, folded up, Zann Esu traveling clothes. "Thanks," she smiled, "yeah, I guess washing the clothes is in order…don't want my battlegear to get dirty, after all…there's a few spots of ghoul ichor that need to be washed out too."

"Have them sent up to the Palace," Ember said, "they'll take care of it. I'll see you when you're ready?"

"Okay, thanks," Willow smiled again, closing the door and leaning against it. Tara got up again and padded over to her, leaning on the door beside her and snaking an arm around her waist.

"Oh gods, I nearly answered the door naked," Willow murmured, "she'd never have let me live it down…" Tara nodded and laughed to herself.

"I can just imagine the teasing I'd get from Solari if she ever found out what I've been doing with her flexibility conditioning," she offered, at which it was Willow's turn to laugh.

"What've you got there?" Tara asked, poking the bundle still held in Willow's hands.

"Oh, traveling clothes," she replied, "Ember figured we could use a change…send them to the Palace?" she went on to herself. "I guess we must be getting back to the city sometime today."

"I don't think we're cut out for adventuring," Willow grinned. "Demons we can handle, but a few days without our creature comforts and we go to pieces. I think staying in the Palace is spoiling us."

"Absolutely," she agreed with a smile. A sound from outside caught her attention and she cocked her head, listening to the occasional calls from the deckhands, and the occasional murmur of conversation carried on the wind.

"Is it just me," she frowned, "or are there a lot of people out there for one boat?" Willow listened, frowned in thought, then went to the porthole and undid its latch, standing up on tip-toes to peer down out of it.

"Already?" Tara asked, taking a look for herself. Directly beneath them a freight barge was taking on cargo, and beyond that the docks of the city bustled with their morning activity. With the porthole open, they could even hear the cries of the stevedores and cargo-haulers, the raised voices of merchants haggling prices, street vendors hawking their wares-

"You know sooner or later all that hubbub is going to start getting on my nerves and I'll go find somewhere quiet to relax," Willow said, "but right now, that's music to my ears."

Tara felt strangely underdressed somehow, despite the fact that the Zann Esu traveling clothes she and Willow wore covered them from their modest necklines downwards. It was that the material was so thin, she decided – she hadn't really noticed when she had felt the cloth before, when Willow had been the one wearing it, but now that she was walking around clothed in it, it felt like nightwear.

It was strong fabric though, and she did have to admit that, if she got used to the lightness of it, the clothes were remarkably comfortable. They were dark green, a muted version of the color of Willow's battlegear, with dark edges that caught the light easily, revealing subtle blue and light green hues. The trousers were somewhat loose around her legs, which Willow had explained was the style in Kurast and Aranoch, where tight clothes became stifling in the heat, but tightly secured by the sash at their waist, and tucked into her boots. The tunic was of the same strong, light material – a slightly different cut to the Zann Esu clothing Tara had seen in Willow's wardrobe so far, with a fold-over front buttoned down the left side, and loose sleeves that bunched around her wrists, held there by tiny cords woven into the ends of the sleeves and tied off. Willow wore a matching outfit, though she also wore the long robe, which Tara had decided against for herself.

"Sure you don't want the robe?" Willow asked again when they were making their way down one of the Dauntless's gangplanks towards the dock, bustling with soldiers and army-employed laborers, loading provisions onto a riverboat with a large paddle-wheel at its stern. A quick, chilly breeze was whipping around the exposed dock, and Tara glanced around, over the heads of the crowd from her position half-way down the gangplank, and noted a general tendency towards heavy coats and cloaks among the people going about their business on the roads beyond the dockland warehouses.

"Winter's starting to set in," she said idly. "No, I'll be okay," she gave Willow a quick smile and brushed her hand over her arm, "we won't be outdoors long. And this isn't really any colder than it gets back home, just earlier in the season. Normally this would just be the couple of weeks around the solstice."

"Lucky Amazons," Willow said, drawing her robe a little tighter around herself, "practically a year-long summer…you're sure?"

"I'm fine," Tara smiled. Already, descending to the level of the dock, they were out of the worst of the wind, and Tara found she could easily forget the slight bite in the air.

"Milady?" A man in shining banded steel armor called, turning as they walked past. Willow and Tara both turned back, but Tara was the first to recognize him.

"Sergeant?" she said, a smile forming. "They couldn't keep you on the parade ground for long after all?"

"Aye milady, that they couldn't," Sergeant Sheerson replied, removing his helmet and giving both women a courteous bow, hindered slightly by his armor. "Lady Willow, Lady Tara – Kotram monastery, they tell us, is the place the army's needed, and not four days after you yourself set out there – I tell you milady, and you miss," he nodded to Willow, "it's a relief to see you both back and in good health."

"It's a relief to be back and in good health," Tara said, getting a bark of laughter from the soldier, "and thank you."

"If you're at liberty to say, milady," the sergeant went on after acknowledging their thanks with another bow, "there's all sorts of rumors flying about what's awaiting…they say demons and evil magic-workers and all manner of wild things, and there's been sorceresses at the Palace, and the Duke's mage coming in from the north with warnings of danger…"

"So far as I know," Tara said, "it's over and done with…the danger, I mean. It was a demon, a dangerous one…we managed to stop it in time, before it became more powerful. Willow was too strong for it-"

"Hey, don't leave yourself out! She," she added, talking to the sergeant, "stood face to face with this nightmare of a demon, and fought it-"

"And with your magic," Tara pointed out, "we banished it…" She caught Willow's hand and gave her a smile, then turned her attention back to Sheerson.

"Do I understand you right milady?" he asked, frowning in confusion. "You two, on your own, went into the lion's den and destroyed a demon that's had every mage and commander in the city panicking?"

"Um…" Tara hesitated, "well…yes, I guess…don't go telling everyone though," she added.

"My god in the heavens," Sheerson shook his head in disbelief, "are ye both off to the Palace now?"

"Actually, I have to see my superiors – the Zann Esu," Willow explained, "they need to know what happened out there, what we did-"

"I'm going with her," Tara said. Sheerson stared blankly for a moment, then laughed abruptly.

"Ah, isn't that just ripe," he said, with jovial scorn, "you ladies save the city from who knows what evil, and they want you to explain yourselves…" Willow and Tara exchanged a glance, then both shrugged.

"My sympathies go with you both," Sheerson said, grinning sadly, "they that deserve the spoils of battle rarely see them…but I'll offer you this, in addition to all the rounds you can drink should you both care to raise a glass with me when this is over – my old man was a soldier in his young days, and when I joined the army he – apologies, milady, it just occurred to me, when you said a few days ago that Miss Willow and you were 'partners'…?"

"Yes," Tara nodded, "in love…" Willow gave Tara's hand an affectionate squeeze, while Sheerson nodded, smiling.

"Aye," he said, "well then, what my old man told me should give you cheer. He said, 'Don't you ever go looking for fortune and glory on the battlefield, my son, because for every man who's given a medal there's ten who fought just as bravely who never make it back from that battlefield. If they give you a medal that's all and good, but you mark my words,' he said, 'the only reward I ever went fighting for was to come back whole, and find your ma waiting for me, and proud of the job I'd done.'"

"Your father's a wise man," Tara said quietly, drawing Willow a little closer and slipping an arm around her waist.

"Aye, that he is," Sheerson nodded, then added with a conspiratorial smile: "but don't tell him I said so, or he'll never let me hear the end of it." He grinned as both women chuckled. "Now, I can't linger," he went on, "whatever's left around Kotram, we'll be joining the scouting force and sending it back to the pit it calls home soon as the riverboat's ready to set sail…but you both mind what my old man said – life ain't always fair to those who do what has to be done, but all this debriefing nonsense'll be over soon enough. There ain't no reward worth more than what you've got right now in any case."

"You're welcome tenfold, miladies," he replied, "and I'll tell you what – when we're sitting 'round the campfire and the scouts give thanks about how there's no monsters out there worth speaking of, I'll make sure they know to thank Lady Tara and Lady Willow for it." With a wink he hefted his pack onto his shoulder and turned, vanishing into the crowd.

"He's right," Tara said to Willow as they made their way to the street, where Ember had promised a carriage would take them to the university, where the Zann Esu had made their temporary home in the city. "You're worth more to me than anything."

"You too," Willow smiled. Then she grinned as a thought struck her. "You know what we should've done? We didn't ride into the sunset."

"That's all we forgot to do, to get the proper hero treatment, and showered with rewards, and all that – the evil demon's been defeated, the beautiful maiden fell in love with me, but we forgot to ride off into the sunset. Ah well," she gave a quick shrug, "just so long as I've got the beautiful maiden, I'm happy."

"We'll know to ride into the sunset next time," Tara chuckled, "it's no big deal, seeing as I've got a beautiful maiden as well."

"Look in a mirror, silly," Tara laughed, reaching down to give Willow a discreet pat on the bottom, which just made her giggle.

Willow and Tara delayed their trip for a moment when Willow spotted Anji being led off the Dauntless, and she and Tara spent a moment petting her until her stablehand mounted to ride her back to the barracks. They returned to the carriage, which pulled away from the dock and made its way through the busy streets towards the university. Ember was with them, and thought she seemed a little preoccupied to Tara, she explained what lay ahead.

"The delegation is part of the Council," she said as the carriage rattled along past shops and houses, "three seats of the nine. The Council, as a whole, never leaves our city, but its members do at times, rather than rely on second- hand information. Two of the seats are Council members, fire and ice – those are Sirillia and Cyan," she added to Willow.

"For the past few weeks," Ember nodded, "Nica stood down, her health is starting to fail."

"Oh…I'm sorry," Willow said, crestfallen. Tara sensed there was more attachment to the woman they were speaking of than simply that of sorceresses to one of their superiors. She reached across and held Willow's hand in her lap, stroking its back lightly with her thumb.

"Nica's daughter mentored me," Ember explained, noticing Tara's concern, "and even though she herself was busy with Council matters, she often got involved. She taught me a lot, which I passed on in turn," she gave Willow a smile, "but she's an old woman now, a hundred and fourteen this year…I saw her before I came here, she's happy." Willow nodded in understanding, and Ember then straightened slightly in her seat, her businesslike manner returning.

"The Council is made up of three sets of three," she went on to Tara, "one for each of our three disciplines of magic, and one of each three is an Oracle. They never travel from the city – in place of her, three lightning sorceresses hold a single seat as part of the delegation, representing an Oracle. Their combined powers give them a portion of an Oracle's farsight. Once we reach the university I'll be speaking with them. Lady Tara-"

"Tara," Ember repeated, ducking her head, "if you would, I'd like you to speak with Cyan. She'll ask you about Hellebore, about Willow, possibly anything that's happened since you both met, maybe even about yourself before that. She might ask personal details – you don't have to reveal anything you don't want to, but she'll only ask questions she feels she needs to know the answers to. Anything you tell her will be known only to her, and the Council when she reports, no-one else."

"You don't have to," Ember prompted gently, "as an Amazon, your word carries almost as much weight with the Zann Esu as one of our own – you've probably never heard of them, but there are ties between your nation and us, at the higher levels. What you and Willow told me yesterday can be presented as a complete report, and no further questions would be asked."

"It's alright," Tara said, giving Willow's hand a reassuring squeeze, "it's best that we do this ourselves."

"Yes," Ember leant back as the carriage turned sharply, entering the university's coach-hall, "you know what to expect. It's possible you'll get Cyan and you," she nodded to Tara, "will get Sirillia, but I think this is how they'll do it – there's a certain predictability to the Council. Once you've reported, though," she paused, and glanced at Tara again before returning her gaze to Willow. "The delegation will discuss amongst themselves what needs to be done now, and then they'll hand down their decision. Until then you'll have to remain in session – we'll have to wait outside," she clarified for Tara.

"I'm sorry, but no," Ember said, even as Tara saw the same answer in Willow's forlorn expression. "It's not a matter of trust or honor, but this is part of the traditions the Council had followed for hundreds of years. Believe me, if I could argue for you to be present, I would. It'll be alright," she said reassuringly, her gaze covering them both before settling on Willow.

"It'll be alright," she said again, warmly, "what you've done, the choices you've made…I'm very proud of you, Willow." She reached forward and gently took Willow's free hand. "Very proud…I'm sure the delegation will feel likewise for you, as a fellow sorceress."

"Thank you," Willow said in a tiny voice. She cleared her throat. "I'm okay," she went on, "it's just…what they decide, it could-"

"Whatever happens," Ember interrupted, "you and Tara will not be separated." Tara's breath caught, scared for a moment that that could have been a possibility, then eased somewhat by the older sorceress's assurance.

"I'm sure," Ember nodded. "The worst that could happen is that they decide you require a sponsor again, to act as a mentor for a while – and if that happens, I promise it'll be me, no matter what the Council wants me to do. They won't force me to choose otherwise. And regardless, the worst won't happen. You've had a very difficult road to travel, but you're exceptional, Willow – you both are," she added, glancing at Tara. "They'll recognize that, I promise you."

The university had no buildings of note entirely separate from the rest of its structure – each laboratory block or seminar hall or dormitory was built up against its neighbor, with the corridors inside simply winding their way through, honeycombing the entire complex. However the building given over to the Zann Esu managed to be more or less isolated, a sturdy old tower and hall reached through a narrow block of modest lecture theatres, all vacant at present.

The heavy double door to the tower hall was guarded by two soldiers, of a kind Tara had never seen before – tall, broad-shouldered dark-skinned men, their faces as impassive and proud as those of a granite statue. They wore plate armor, ornately decorated but by no means purely ceremonial, and beneath that dark crimson robes woven with gold threat at the hems. Each had a huge two-handed broadsword in a scabbard on his back.

"Ashearae," Willow whispered, as the two guards stood aside at a sign from Ember and opened the doors for them to pass. "The 'Iron Wolves', their brotherhood has been the Council's bodyguard whenever a delegation travels outside the city, for the last twenty years. It's said they're incapable of betraying their oaths to the Council."

Tara nodded, feeling their gazes rest briefly on her as she passed them. Used to assessing potential dangers by the smallest of signs, what she saw and felt from the two soldiers told her that, even among powerful sorceresses, their presence as a guard was no token gesture.

The doors were closed behind them, leaving them alone in a high-ceilinged antechamber lit by thick torches in iron brackets on the walls. Tara had only a moment to glance around, seeing rows of dusty old volumes lining wooden bookcases in recesses in the stone wall, before the doorway opposite opened. Two more of the Ashearae emerged, marching in step, followed by five sorceresses. They all wore robes similar to Willow's, though of a different fabric that shone with deeper, richer colors when the torchlights glinted off them. In shadow all seemed the same dark green, but the light brought out their highlights, one crimson, one pale blue, the remaining three – a little less elaborate in their decoration, and whose wearers stood a pace behind the first two – rich magenta. All five wore their hoods up – approaching Ember, Willow and Tara, the two leaders drew theirs back, while the others remained by the door.

"Ember," the taller sorceress, whose robe had the red highlights, said with polite formality. She was perhaps fifty, and had an aristocratic face, with high cheekbones and a long nose – imposing but quite beautiful, particularly for her age. Her hair was red, but so dark it almost seemed black, and something about her gave Tara the impression that she could be utterly deadly, if she chose. Like the Ashearae, there was just something in her gaze.

"Sirillia," Ember replied, ducking her head. Willow did likewise, and Tara quickly followed suit – the tall sorceress glanced at them, but didn't respond to their presence otherwise.

"We have studied the report you had delivered this morning," she said in a haughty voice, "you understand we have questions we wish to pose."

"I do," Ember said. She took a sideways step and indicated Willow and Tara. "You remember my student, Willow?"

"Lady Tara," the sorceress nodded, "in the best interests of the people of this realm, we wish to understand the events you have been involved in fully. Will you assist us?"

"Yes," Tara replied, managing an even voice in spite of the woman's intimidating, level stare. "Yes, I'll answer any questions I can."

"Cyan will speak with you," Sirillia said, stepping aside for the other leading sorceress. "Willow, come with me. Ember, if you would accompany Metea and her assistants?"

Ember nodded and followed the three purple-robed sorceresses back through the door they had come from. Sirillia turned and followed her. Willow started after her, but turned after one step and quickly leant towards Tara, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

"I love you," she whispered, nervous, though by Tara's guess not unduly so given their company. "I'll see you soon. Don't worry."

"I love you," Tara replied, hoping she sounded reassuring. A brief smile flickered across Willow's face, and after a split-second's hesitation she kissed Tara again, on the lips. Then she pulled back and hurried after Sirillia, who had not turned to find the source of the delay, merely waited at the door.

"This way please," the remaining sorceress said to Tara, indicating a second, smaller door, to an office. Her voice was almost unnaturally melodic, which Tara found comforting, though she couldn't quite decide why – there was a soothing quality to it. She took a moment to study the woman as she closed the door behind them and took her seat at the vacant office desk, with Tara seated opposite. Her motions, like her voice, were fluid and seamless, like a dancer – or an assassin, Tara mused silently. Her features were attractive, if perhaps a little plain, and she wore her sandy blond hair short, like a soldier. As she sat a candelabra perched at the side of the desk flickered to life. Tara remembered Willow mentioning that sorceresses, as they became more experienced, developed the ability to control other elements besides their first. She wondered idly, while the other woman opened a notebook and inkwell and set them to one side, where she had gotten the impression that Cyan was an ice sorceress, like Willow – the pale blue, ice-like highlights to her robes? – then recalled the night in Kingsport castle, when Willow had described her first meeting with Shadai. Cyan had been one of the sorceresses who saved her then, and no doubt the freezing magic Willow described her using was her most powerful discipline.

Cyan began with some unremarkable questions regarding Hellebore and Shadai – the structure of the catacombs, the powers the demon has displayed, at what time various events had occurred, and how long they lasted. Aside from minor, inconsequential details, it was all information that she and Willow had told Ember, and no doubt had then been conveyed to the Zann Esu delegation in her reports. Tara guessed that the sorceress was interested not in her answers, but in the way she gave them. After a few minutes, during which Cyan prompted Tara for such information, and made notes now and then, she pushed her notebook aside and leaned forward, elbows on the desk. Suddenly she seemed more intent, and her passive, polite observation gave way to a more focused scrutiny. Tara raised an eyebrow, wondering what the next question would be.

"We didn't know you were on your way," Tara said. "The Duke's mage was out of contact, and we didn't know of anyone else here who could help."

"Why were you so sure action had to be taken?" Cyan asked levelly. "Why not wait?"

"We thought there was too great a risk. Willow was sure that Shadai was going to attempt to be summoned again, or at least somehow control whatever was in the catacombs. Ocean, Myrreon's apprentice, saw signs of an immanent threat."

"You must have been aware of the danger then – even without knowing about Hellebore's existence, you knew there was a chance you would face a pureblood demon. Were you so sure you could defeat it?" Tara bit back her instinctive answer, and spoke after a pause.

"You thought it was worth the risk?" Cyan asked. "To secure the prize from the catacombs? To save the city? For-"

"For Willow," Tara interrupted. "I…we did everything we could to understand what was going on, and to prevent anything going wrong. But even then we didn't know enough. Either way, if we'd gone or if we'd stayed here, there was the possibility that the worst could happen."

"As it tuned out," Cyan suggested carefully, "for the worst to happen, it required you to go to Hellebore." Tara swallowed, then nodded.

"Yes," she agreed, "it did. We didn't know." She hesitated. "Do you believe we should have done differently? Your delegation?"

"And if we did," Cyan countered, leaning forward, "what then? You're not one of us, you're an Amazon. How can we pass judgment on you?"

"This is…" Tara paused, choosing her words carefully. "I know only what Willow has told me about the Zann Esu. She believes you're fair, and wise, and I trust her. This situation is…something you understand. I'll accept your judgment."

"You could claim immunity," Cyan pointed out, "as an Amazon, a member of a diplomatic mission, you have that right."

"I could," Tara agreed, "but I knew there could be consequences when I made the choices I did."

"I'm not omniscient," Tara said, managing a level stare in the face of Cyan's calm regard, "there's always unforeseen consequences. To anything, but…that's just the way the world is."

"Yes, it is," Cyan nodded, leaning back. She reached for her notebook and from between its pages drew a slim gray envelope, which she handed to Tara.

"Open it," she prompted. Tara did so and slid out the page inside, unfolding it. Even before she opened it she felt the unusual weight of gold edging on the parchment – that aside, there was a gold-leaf painted emblem at the head of the page, a circular border formed of three woven strands, which unwound inwards and joined again in the center. Tara recognized it as the symbol of the Zann Esu, having seen it before on Willow's diadem, and in plain ink on the letters she carried to introduce herself to the various mages she had been sent to study with on her journey.

"…that Tara, warrior of the Amazon Nation," Tara read quickly, "be recognized as a faithful ally of the Zann Esu clan, having proven herself in trial against the enemies of humankind…" she trailed off, reading silently. The document was signed in five hands, and two crimson wax seals were imprinted below – Tara glanced up, and saw a signet ring on Cyan's left hand that matched one of the seals.

"Few outsiders are permitted within our walls," Cyan said, while Tara could only stare mutely, "but you are now one of them. You have the Council's leave to enter our city as a sorceress would, study such manuscripts in our possession as are not kept sealed and so on…and of course, associate as you please with any member of our clan," she added, not quite concealing a smile.

"The leader of your mission should be here soon," Cyan went on, "a message was sent requesting his presence, the Ashearae have been instructed to allow him in. A copy of your letter will be made for him later today, to return to your Queen." She stood up, and gestured for Tara to follow – as she did, the candelabra's tiny flames vanished.

"Our deliberations and discussion with Willow may take some time," she said, opening the door for Tara, "you may wait here for her. This room is at your disposal should you and your diplomat wish to speak privately, and food and drink will be brought here by lunchtime. Ah, this must be him." Tryptin was waiting in the antechamber, and hurried over when he saw Tara emerge from the office, with Cyan behind her.

"Sir," Cyan acknowledged him. "Please excuse me, I must join my colleague. Lady Tara, our thanks." With a quick but sincere bow she turned and disappeared through the main door, where Ember, Willow and the other sorceresses had gone.

"It's good to see you," Tara said, trying to gather her wits. Tryptin, who had been staring after Cyan, regarded her for a moment, then stepped forward and gave her a gentlemanly hug.

"You too," he said earnestly. He stood back and followed Tara's gesture back into the office she and Cyan had spoken in.

"I got the letter you left for me," he began, "a messenger arrived just in time for me to return as the Duke's mage was riding in from the north, and I spoke to him, his apprentice and assistant, several Deans here, officers from the army…what happened? No, first – are you alright?"

Tara told the tale as best she could, starting from her and Willow's departure from the city and ending with her conversation with Cyan, omitting nothing in between. If Ember the day before had been a reserved audience when Willow had been the one doing the telling, Tryptin was the opposite – the tension in his shoulders was obvious as she described their approach to the entrance to the catacombs and their descent through the tunnels, and he exclaimed frequently, in dismay at the ghouls and their master, relief at her and Willow's defeat of them, shock at the formation of the tower, stunned horror as she described Shadai. By the time Tara was done, Tryptin sat wide- eyed and immobile.

"Gods and goddesses," he murmured after the moment it seemed to take him to find his voice. "The…the creature, was inside Miss Willow? She's alright, you said?"

"Fine," Tara reassured him. "She wasn't hurt, and otherwise…we're dealing with it as best we can. She's coping…she's very strong."

"I'm sorry I couldn't speak with you directly before we left," Tara said, changing the subject to avoid the blush creeping back over her cheeks. After the businesslike manner in which they were received the day before, Cyan's letter recognizing her as a Zann Esu ally and now Tryptin's awed regard came as a bit of a shock, albeit not an unpleasant one.

"No, you did right," Tryptin said quickly, "if I'd known, I- well, I'd have been concerned for your safety of course, both of you, but I can't say I'd have tried to convince you not to go. Not that I'd have had the authority, in any case."

"I'm no strategist," he chuckled, "at least, my style of 'battle' wouldn't be any use against the enemies you were facing – we both know, after all this, how much good it does trying to do deals with demons. As a military matter, you can only be responsible to a superior warrior, not a diplomat, so you see you haven't acted outside your authority at all. In lieu of being able to receive orders from Solari in any sort of timely fashion out here, you're your own mistress as a warrior."

"And Miss Willow is being judged by her Council?" Tryptin went on. "They must find in her favor, surely? You've achieved an incredible victory together."

"I-I think they will," Tara offered, smiling bashfully. "But they have to go through the motions…it'll just take a little while."

"I can stay with you while you wait," Tryptin offered. Tara smiled gratefully at him.

"You must be busy though," she pointed out. "And now that you know what happened, it'd be best if you worked with the Duke's people right away, wouldn't it?" Tryptin looked uncomfortable for a moment, then gave a wry smile.

"Yes," he admitted, "that would be the most advantageous course to take…but I can stay here if you want."

"I'll be alright," she insisted, "she'll be through it all soon. After everything else, waiting a little while isn't so difficult."

"Okay," Tara admitted sheepishly, "it's incredibly difficult." Her grin faded. "I wish I were in there with her. Even if it made no difference…"

"It'd make a difference to you, and to her," Tryptin offered. Tara nodded sadly.

"But you've got work to do," she said, taking a deep breath, "I don't want to keep you from it, and I will be alright, I promise."

"Alright then," Tryptin conceded with a reluctant sigh. He rose from his chair, as did Tara, and they returned to the antechamber. Tryptin hesitated, and turned to Tara, opening his mouth to speak.

"We'll come straight to the Palace," Tara finished. He nodded, clasped her hand warmly, then hurried off through the double doors. Tara gazed for a moment at the other set of doors, then took a seat on one of the benches at either side of the room, resting her spear up against the wall. She smoothed the loose fabric of her outfit over her legs and leant forward on her elbows, looking around idly.

After a few minutes the doors opened and Tara straightened, but only Ember emerged before they closed again. She saw Tara sitting at the side of the room, and walked over to her.

"No need to stand on ceremony," Ember said as she sat down, waving for Tara to do likewise. She leant her staff against the wall, mirroring Tara's spear, and sat with a slim iron-bound wooden case she had carried across her lap. "I'm sorry this has all been so…well, tiring. You and Willow both deserve time to relax." She paused thoughtfully, and added: "you deserve far more, in fact."

"I understand why it had to be this way," Tara said quietly. "What we did was very dangerous-"

"Far less than inaction would have been," Ember said with certainty. "When faced with such threats, sometimes the only way to prevail is to meet them head-on – the most dangerous course of action, to all appearances. Hesitating is sometimes not an option…" She trailed off, then turned to Tara.

"I'm sorry to ask out of the blue," she said apologetically, "but it's been on my mind…your spear…"

"How did you come by it?" Ember asked, seeming a little reluctant to broach the subject.

"It belongs to my weapons instructor, Solari," Tara explained, "it's a ceremonial blade, only to be carried by women in battle, and her children are boys. She lent it to me, for this mission."

"Adopted," Tara clarified, "orphans, from a battle on the mainland sixteen years or so ago…did you know her?"

"We traveled in company once," Ember said, "for a short while…a memorable time. Long ago, anyway. She's well?"

"Oh yes," Tara nodded, "she's regarded as one of our finest warriors, an excellent instructor…" She glanced at Ember, who seemed absorbed in thought, and grinned slightly. "…still carries on like a teenager now and then…" Ember laughed abruptly.

"That's good to know," she chuckled. "That's a very powerful weapon she's given you, unique in more than just its design. You're very fortunate to have it…and from what I understand of your culture, I think it'd be considered fortunate as well."

Tara ducked her head in acknowledgement of the high compliment – a ceremonial weapon like Silverstrike would be considered 'fortunate' if it was wielded by a warrior who was its equal in prowess and potency. If Ember truly knew the intricacies of Amazon ceremonial weaponry, and the regard Silverstrike was held in – and Tara had a feeling that she knew both better than she was letting on – she could not have spoken more highly of her as a warrior.

"How long do you expect the deliberations to be?" she asked after a moment's silence. Ember leaned back against the wall and shrugged.

"Well, it's up to the delegation of course…I think, not as long as you might expect." She gave Tara a conspiratorial wink. "I've got into the habit of reading the mood of the Council. It makes life much easier when you know what they're going to decide, without having to wait for them to tell you." Tara smiled, then grew serious.

"It's a complicated situation," the sorceress mused, "if the delegation decides to be complicated about it…personally, I think it comes down to a simple question – has Willow behaved in the way that we, as her elders, would have wished her to behave? If that's how the delegation approaches the matter, then I can't see there being any doubt as to the outcome – she is an excellent example of the kind of mage the Zann Esu have been working for centuries to produce." Tara smiled at the praise for Willow, then frowned as a thought occurred to her.

"They should," Ember replied, leaning forward and talking animatedly, "I've certainly made it plain enough in the report I wrote, and just now to Metea. They wouldn't like me to say this to you – even if you are nearly one of 'us' now," she added, gesturing to the envelope still in Tara's hand, "but frankly, if they don't find in Willow's favor, they're damned fools. And I'll see to it they change their minds."

"You've got some influence with them," Tara guessed. Ember waved a hand vaguely.

"More like they owe me a favor," she said. "I killed a couple of demons that were troubling them once." She winked again, then settled back again. "Tell me, though…I know it probably seems mundane, after all this, but how's Willow been? I don't mean while you were busy fighting pureblood demons, just in general…"

"Learning everything she can," Tara said, picking the first thing that came to mind. "She's made a good start on High Amazonian, and practiced a little archery…she enjoys working with Myrreon, I think she'll be glad to get back to him once this is all settled."

"I can imagine," Ember said, smiling probably more wistfully than she meant to. "He's one of your true inventors. She's always loved learning something new. Has she cooked anything lately?"

"I'd like to say I taught her that, but I suspect it was the other way around…she takes good care of her staff?"

"She misses you," Tara offered gently. Ember looked at her, surprised, then smiled again.

"Not as much as she'd miss you, if our positions were reversed," she said warmly. "I miss her too…it's good to see her now, even if it's a tense situation. That'll be over soon enough, and I won't be leaving for a few days at least."

"Lots to do," Ember shrugged, "it's the way of things, anyway. Sooner or later, a girl has to stand on her own to discover what sort of woman she'll become. I can't regret that, when I see the woman she has become." She gave Tara a fond look. "Treasure her, won't you."

"I do," Tara said sincerely, "I always will." Ember nodded, and the two of them fell into a comfortable silence, waiting and listening to the vague sounds of the people in the university outside, far away.

"Shadai said she'd wanted me to suffer for a long time. Why was that? Willow I can understand, being part of frustrating her when she was first summoned, but why me? It seemed more than just anger at an enemy."

"I remember Willow mentioned it yesterday," Ember said, "the demon called you 'bringer of light', didn't she?" Tara nodded. "By their terms, it's an insult, as we'd call someone 'damned' – no, I have no doubt she hated you as much as Willow by the end of it. Remember, she tried to kill you – through Hydris, he hired that assassin in Kingsport. Even though it risked exposing him."

"She was inside Willow," Ember reminded her, "unable to influence her, and in fact being influenced herself – you saw that with your own eyes. I wouldn't be surprised if she was forced to experience everything Willow felt." She regarded Tara with an amused smile. "You've got a fair idea of the kind of emotions you stir in Willow – imagine what those would be like to a being created of disgust and loathing for humanity."

"For a demon, pure agony." Ember chuckled to herself. "Poetic justice of a sort. It's arguable that no pureblood demon has ever suffered such sustained anguish. I doubt she'll forget that in a hurry."

"Don't worry," Ember said kindly, "what I said before hasn't changed. I'd stake my life that you'll never face her again. In fact, after being defeated in such a humiliating fashion, she'll be lucky to find a safe place to hide in hell, let alone start looking for a way back to the mortal plane. If it worries you that demons hold grudges, just bear in mind that practically all the lords of hell, including the four Lesser Evils – who are a sight more powerful than Shadai, each of them – no doubt still hold an enormous grudge against her, for her rebellion against them in the Sin Wars." She offered a comforting smile, which then turned into a mischievous grin. "The next few hundred years will definitely not be profitable for Shadai."

"Well," Tara said, feeling less apprehensive now, "I guess…I know a warrior shouldn't gloat, but serves her right."

"Hah," Ember laughed, "that it does." She looked down at the case on her knees, and ran her hand over it thoughtfully.

"It's called a Dividing Seal," Ember explained, "it's a tradition started long ago, when the Esu witches began collecting the library that's now the heart of the Zann Esu vaults. Some books were notably powerful and dangerous – to keep them from being misused, a section was removed from them, and placed in a case like this. The books are kept in the vault, and the Seals remain separate from them, each guarded by a sorceress. Only the full Council can authorize the reunification of such a book, and then, it would only be done in the direst of circumstances. Otherwise…if anyone manages to steal the book from the vault, not that that's likely, the Seal would be destroyed, and vice versa."

"It is," Ember nodded. "Twenty pages or so, carefully removed from the volume without damaging either. A single section dealing with a single magical discipline – without it, the journal remains of great value, I don't doubt that the scholars back at home will find it a worthwhile study for years to come. But the magic that created Hellebore cannot be reproduced."

"This ensures that power won't be misused again," Ember offered. "The tower will never be recreated from this volume. But in the extraordinarily unlikely event of someone, unaided, following in Moac's path and creating their own Hellebore, the book and the Seal can be reunited. Together, they could bring down such a tower, as well as help build it."

They both turned as the main doors opened again. This time Willow was the one to emerge, and to Tara's profound relief, she was smiling.

"Hey!" she managed to say, in an excited tone, before Tara rushed to her and hugged her tightly, burying her face in her hair. Recovering from the first flush of relief she leaned back just enough to face Willow, and kissed her firmly and deeply.

"Mmm," Willow moaned, "mmm…ah…good to see you too!" Tara laughed, and kissed her again.

"What did they- your staff!" she exclaimed, details other than Willow herself finally filtering through to her senses. The staff in Willow's hand was the same one she had always carried, but now, atop the plain wooden shaft, there was a dark bronze headpiece capped with a pair of metal vanes. Held between them was a crystal sphere, pale blue and icy.

"I know! Cool, huh?" Willow grinned widely. She turned the staff this way and that, and to Tara's surprise the crystalline heart of the orb swirled, revealing subtle hints of a great well of energy within.

"The Council awarded me my colors," Willow said, her voice brimming over with glee, "you're now looking at a fully-trained, acknowledged, no-longer- student sorceress!"

"Oh my Goddess!" Tara exclaimed. "That's wonderful! Oh my-" She was cut off as Willow handed the staff to Ember, who was standing to one side patiently, took Tara's face in both hands, and brought their lips together. This kiss was long, passionate, intense and deeply loving – Tara's head spun, and she clung to Willow with her free hand, the other holding her spear, as if she was liable to fall over.

"…wow," she breathed when Willow finally retreated from her lips, with a final playful nip at her bottom lip. Willow stared adoringly at her for a moment, then seemed to notice Ember trying to restrain her smile.

"You knew!" she accused happily. "You knew all this time that this is what they were going to do!"

"Surprise," Ember said weakly, before laughing. "I wasn't sure," she admitted, "I didn't want to get your hopes up…but if they hadn't I'd have gone in there and given them such a piece of my mind…"

"Come here," Willow beckoned, holding out an arm to her mentor. Ember walked into the embrace, she and Tara putting a friendly arm over each other's shoulders, while she and Willow hugged.

"Okay, okay," the older sorceress said with a grin after a moment, "come on, I've got a reputation here…the delegation will think I'm going soft in my old age." With a laugh Willow released her, though her arm remained around her shoulders. Her hand brushed against Tara's there, and held it.

"You deserve it," Ember said earnestly, "you've earned this a hundred times over."

"Thank you," Ember countered. "You know, I hesitated about taking a student – I'd been on my own for a long time. I honestly wasn't sure I had what it took to teach, in any case."

"Well, I muddled along," Ember shrugged, "and now I'm very glad I did." She fixed Willow with a warm gaze. "I know you have family," she added in a soft voice, "but I've come to think of you as my family as well. You make me very proud, Willow."

"My family would thank you," Willow said, her voice thick with emotion, "for giving me the love and care that a mother would…"

"Oh, now I'm getting emotional," Ember complained with a wry smile. She glanced at Tara. "Distract her, would you? Show her what you were given."

"What is it?" Willow asked. Tara fumbled with the envelope she had all but forgotten about, and produced the letter.

"Is that what I think- it is!" Willow exclaimed. "Oh my Goddess that's wonderful!"

"You two are repeating yourselves now," Ember joked, withdrawing from Willow and Tara's embrace. Willow laughed joyously, then drew Tara tighter into her arms, so close their lips brushed together as she spoke.

It was late at night when Willow and Tara finally returned to their room in the Princess Tower. Dinner had been shared with Ember, Tryptin, those of the other Amazons who were still in the Palace, and Lissa, who both Willow and Tara had insisted join them when she appeared just before the meal was served in the guest dining room, to check if they needed anything. The story of their adventure had been told again, mostly by Tryptin, to their relief, with some elaboration from Ember on the specifics of Willow's contributions. The only deviation they made from the truth was to omit Willow's personal involvement with Shadai – Ember had earlier agreed with the delegation that, aside from a select few who could be trusted, it would be reported that the demon had spent the past few months inhabiting the ethereal planes, just as had been at first suspected, and that the ghoul lord Willow had fought had managed to summon her before being itself destroyed.

Willow and Tara, having told the tale often enough themselves in the past couple of days, let their attention drift to each other while Tryptin and Ember were entertaining and amazing their other friends with their dramatic re- enactment. Tara had noticed, and pointed out to Willow, when Tryptin began demonstrating spear combat, using his cutlery – no doubt, knowledge he had picked up from his betrothed, and Willow had giggled quietly at seeing Tara's fighting style replicated in miniature. But other than that, they had allowed the majority of the evening's excitement to occur around them, while they remained in quiet, private contemplation of each other. Their mutual relief and joy, at being safe and well, at being back among friends, at no longer living under the shadow of an uncertain peril – at some point during the evening transmuted into a kind of weary contentment.

Lissa, with a professional attendant's prescience, had scurried off a few minutes before Willow and Tara finally finished their meals and took their leave of the celebration, profusely thanking their friends as they did. By the time they reached their bedroom its candles were lit, a comfortable fire was flickering in the hearth, their traveling bags were neatly arranged beside the bookcase, and the bed was looking very inviting, with fresh sheets and fluffy blankets. Willow leaned her staff in its usual place in the corner, walked across to the bed, and promptly measured her length on it, unmoving save for an enormous sigh.

"Tired, sweetie?" Tara asked, sitting next to her and stroking a hand up and down her spine. She mused privately that another advantage to the light Zann Esu clothing was that it did little to muffle the sensations of touch, even so light as a casual caress.

"Can I tempt you to a bath?" Tara asked slyly. Willow was silent for a second, then energetically rolled over and sat up, cuddling up to Tara's side.

"Consider me tempted," she replied gleefully. Tara laughed, and hand in hand they got up and headed for the bathroom. Tara ran the bath, hampered slightly by Willow, who began undressing her the moment they were in the room.

"Are you in a hurry for something?" she asked over her shoulder, as Willow reached around her and undid the buttons on her tunic.

"Just don't want you to get your lovely sorceress outfit wet," Willow grinned, "it'd be a shame…what if we wanted to play dress-up?"

"Maybe I do," Willow said evenly, opening Tara's tunic and pulling it back and half-way down her arms. Pressing forward against her, effectively keeping her arms out of the way, Willow reached around her and drew a leisurely fingertip up over her stomach and through her cleavage.

"See," she murmured as Tara shuddered, "it's a fun game…" She brushed her palms lightly over Tara's nipples, finding them already hard, and as Tara let her head fall back with a gentle moan, leaned forward over her shoulder to kiss and lick her way back and forth along her neck and collarbone. Tara forced her trembling legs to support her as Willow took her breasts in her hands and squeezed, sending bolts of desire through her. Without even thinking she began moving in Willow's grasp, rhythmically arching her back, swaying her hips, offering herself in time to Willow's caresses.

"Hmm," Willow breathed, "eager, aren't you? And so beautiful…" Tara gave a little moan of protest as her hands moved from cupping her breasts, one returning to stroking back and forth in her cleavage, the other flattening against her abdomen, moving in tight circles.

"I…yes…" Willow left that hand where it was, circling Tara's navel, while the other finally finished the job of freeing her of her tunic. Tara wasted no time loosening her trousers and letting them fall to the floor. Willow's hand descended, rubbing her waist, teasing her curls.

"Bet you thought I hadn't noticed you weren't wearing anything underneath," she murmured happily.

"Loose pants," Tara panted, "no need…a-and I knew you knew…" She slid her boots off with her toes and leant back in Willow's embrace.

"You like teasing me like that," Willow grinned, "oh, you saucy minx…you like it when I watch you, huh? Tell me," she purred, moving her hands to hold Tara by the hips, their bodies dancing slowly, "those Amazon senses of yours…I bet you can tell when my eyes are on you, can't you?" Tara gave a low, throaty chuckle.

"I can tell when some creature I've never even seen before out in the wild is watching me," she growled, "when it's you…oh baby, I can feel your gaze like this." On the last word, she reached back and grabbed Willow tightly by the waist.

"Really?" Willow gasped. "W-well then…I'll have to stare at you more often, if it feels that good."

"You do that," Tara smiled. Leaving one hand on Willow she lean forward and turned off the taps, the bath having filled itself adequately, the water giving off steam.

"Won't you join me?" Tara went on, turning in Willow's grip and giving her a sultry grin as she stepped back into the water. She bit her bottom lip lightly and gave a low murmur in the back of her throat at the heat, which might have been uncomfortable if it wasn't so arousing at the same time. With a parting caress she backed away and lowered herself into the steaming bath, keeping her eyes fixed on Willow's all the while.

Willow shrugged the robe from her shoulders, leaving it in a heap on the floor as she hurried with the buttons on her tunic. Tara watched, her smile a mix of amusement and desire, as Willow disrobed in record time, pulling the tunic open and tossing it aside, undoing her trousers and kicking them away, her boots quickly following. When she finally stood naked her motions ceased, and she simply gazed at Tara, as if trapped by the adoration in her eyes.

Tara stood up, water streaming off her, her wet skin glistening in the candlelight, and held out her arms to Willow. She stepped forward, her feet sliding into the water with barely a ripple, and welcomed Tara's embrace fully as they sank down together.

"I love you," she whispered, as her and Tara's hands both began exploring each other, "I love you like…like my heart had to keep getting bigger just to hold it all." She chuckled shyly at herself, pausing when Tara gently kissed her, a mere brush against her lips.

"And I love you," Tara breathed, "my beautiful Willow…goddess I love you so much…" Willow returned the kiss, parting her lips just a fraction, a promise of more to come. She gave Tara a teasing grin as she settled back.

"That depends," Tara smiled languidly, "are you thinking clean thoughts, or naughty thoughts?" Willow chuckled again, and shifted slightly, bringing her lips to Tara's ear.

When she woke, Tara found herself immersed in a scarlet softness, which tickled her face slightly as she stirred. Identifying the familiar scent, she realized she was nestling with her face in Willow's hair, and smiled joyously as she tightened her arms around her lover. Willow murmured in her sleep, the hand on Tara's waist squeezing a fraction, the thigh draped over her shifting slightly.

"…mmmfr…strawberry boat…" she said quietly, before deepening her slumber again. Tara chuckled, keeping her body still so as not to disturb Willow, and moved her head back a little on the pillow, just enough to see Willow's face as she slept. She looked serene, happy…'No bad dreams,' Tara sighed contentedly, 'not any more.'

Willow heaved a deep breath and rolled over, pinning Tara beneath her. Her lips opened on Tara's shoulder, tasting her skin, then she wriggled upwards, tracing a path of kisses up her neck towards her mouth. Tara eagerly opened to her as, somewhere between sleep and awareness, Willow descended on her lips and tasted deeply from them. She could feel Willow waking up through the kiss, in the way her mouth sought more contact, the way her tongue, at first slow to move, began venturing forth, running over Tara's lips, deep into her mouth. She couldn't hold back a gasp of pleasure as Willow finally lifted herself up on hands and knees and tilted her head sideways, kissing as deeply as she could, opening herself to Tara in return.

"Mmm…ah," Willow exclaimed, opening her eyes and pulling her lips from Tara's. "Morning…thought you'd wake me with a kiss? You're such a romantic, my sweet beauty…"

"Willow," Tara said in an amused murmur, "much as I'd love to take credit for the idea…look who's straddling who?"

"Hmm?" Willow blinked sleepily, then glanced down, realizing their positions. "Oh…well it's only natural, isn't it? What did you think I was dreaming about, anyway…"

"I don't know," Tara purred, running her hands up Willow's sides, "what were you dreaming about?"

"Oh," Tara grinned, "that made a big impression, did it?" Willow giggled, and leant down to nuzzle at Tara's neck.

"You're not the only one who made an impression," she noted, her tongue tracing the outline of a rosy mark left by her lips the night before. Tara just smiled and shrugged.

"My turn?" she asked impishly, gripping Willow's hips and pulling her down to settle atop her waist.

"Your turn?" Willow echoed. "I seem to recall you and I each having…goddess, more 'turns' than I can count last night." She gyrated slowly, feeling the warmth between her thighs press against Tara's stomach. "And that was before we even made it to bed."

"Oh, well," Tara said, with a forced casualness that wasn't in the least convincing, "if you'd rather not…"

"I said nothing of the sort-" Willow began gleefully, only to be interrupted by a knock at the door. "Argh!" she complained quietly. Tara let out an exasperated sigh, then lithely rolled out from beneath Willow and slid to the edge of the bed.

"I'll get it," she muttered, "and you," she directed a sultry gaze Willow's way, "stay right there…my lips have business with you, and they won't be delayed." Content with the way Willow stretched beneath the blankets, biting her lip in arousal, she slid her legs to the floor and stood up.

"Cold!" Tara frowned, hastily tying the robe's sash as the visitor on the other side of the door knocked again. Willow, experiencing the morning chill first-hand, quickly lay back down and burrowed underneath the blankets.

"Sorry, I was…asleep," Tara said as she opened the door, halting half-way when she realized the visitor wasn't one of their attendants, as she'd expected, but a page, resplendent in the livery of the Duke's personal staff, holding a sealed letter and staring at her.

"M-m-my a-a-apologies m-ma'am," he stammered, the hand holding the letter trembling, "th-th-the-" he paused and swallowed convulsively. His gaze, which had traveled Tara's length, fixed on her face as if he was afraid to do otherwise would be the end of him. Tara glanced down at herself, realizing the robe she had grabbed wasn't the most modest she could have chosen, and that on top of that, in her haste she hadn't exactly covered herself completely – in tying the sash she had managed to catch a fold from the lower portion, lifting the hem of the robe up around the top of her thighs, and the front too had managed to get snagged somehow, leaving the neckline very revealing on one side…

'Giant-sized oops,' Tara thought, blushing furiously as she hastily rearranged herself, pulling the robe down over her thighs and closed over her cleavage. The page swallowed again as she returned her gaze to him, and took a deep breath.

"Apologies for the," he began, in a high-pitched squeak, then coughed and continued in a normal voice, "intrusion ma'am." Evidently feeling it safe to look elsewhere but Tara's face, he bowed deeply, then held out the letter. "His grace the Duke presents his compliments to Lady Tara of the Amazons and Lady Willow of the Zann Esu, and requests and requires their presence in the Century Hall for an audience no later than ten of the clock…um…good day ma'am," he finished with an air of slight desperation. He retreated quickly to the stairs as soon as the letter was out of his hand.

"What was that?" Willow asked, peeking out from beneath the blankets at the foot of the bed. Tara closed the door and opened the letter, which echoed the page's summons word for word, with the Ducal seal beneath.

"No, just a very flustered page," Tara replied, undoing her robe again. "We've been summoned to the Century Hall, wherever that is." She glanced at the timepiece on the mantle. "We've got an hour, no hurry."

"Good," Willow said, reaching out to catch Tara's hands and pull her towards the bed, "because there's something I am in a hurry for…it is cold," she added, rubbing Tara's back as she crawled beneath the blankets and settled into her embrace.

"Told you," Tara shrugged, running a slightly chilly finger up Willow's spine, making her shiver from something other than cold.

"This habit of yours," Willow said teasingly, "of giving the servants an eyeful whenever they come knocking on our door…"

"It's not a habit," Tara protested, as Willow paused to kiss her neck, "I…mmm…only did it by accident…a-and…ooh!" she exclaimed, as Willow gently lay on top of her, her leg coming to rest between Tara's thighs, pressing lightly on her center.

"Oooh-ah-aaah…ah…" Tara gasped, her hips lifting off the bed on their own, seeking firmer contact with Willow's leg, "I-I…was saying…wh-what was I saying?"

"Something about flashing the Palace staff by accident," Willow chuckled, pressing herself into Tara's embrace, feeling Tara's nipples, already hardened by the chill, poking into her breasts.

"Accident," Tara repeated with an exasperated grin, "anyway, I didn't know it'd be a page…thought it'd just be Lissa or Jesye…"

"Oh, so you don't mind giving them a show," Willow persisted, carefully keeping the contact between herself and the moist apex of Tara's thighs brief, teasing.

"I-I…ah," Tara gasped, as Willow allowed her a moment of firmer contact, before lifting away again, "a-at least…they're not…complete strangers…"

"Mmm," Willow murmured, as if unconvinced, "you know what I think? I think," she drawled slowly, as her hands wandered Tara's back, "you just like putting on a show…"

"Maybe I do," Tara countered, teasing the sides of Willow's breasts with her fingertips, "but only when they audience is you."

"Good," Willow moaned happily as Tara's hands finally cupped her breasts and squeezed, "good…oh…do you think…I could convince you to skip the showing…and move on to the main attraction?"

"I don't know," Tara said in a sultry whisper, "do you think you can…convince me?" With a parting caress she removed her hands from Willow and folded them neatly beneath her head, smiling up at Willow.

"I'll convince you, don't you worry," Willow breathed, "I'll convince you 'til you don't know your own name…" Tara beamed a smile, and Willow lowered herself to kiss it. As soon as her lips touched Tara's, however, she pulled back. Tara gasped slightly, obviously expecting to have been kissed deeply and thoroughly, and looked up at Willow questioningly.

"You're not the only one who can tease, you know," Willow said mischievously, leaning down again. Again she allowed only the most fleeting of kisses before recoiling, again Tara couldn't help herself from tilting her chin up, her open lips searching for Willow's.

"Patience," Willow grinned. Again and again she kissed Tara, each time only a fleeting, momentary touch to her lips, a lightning-quick caress of her tongue, a taste. Tara writhed sensuously beneath her, craving all the contact she could find.

"So beautiful," Willow murmured, working her way down Tara's jaw and neck with more teasing, feather-light kisses. Tara's arms being folded beneath her head draw her breasts up her chest, full and luxurious, mounds of smooth flesh resting, trembling. Willow licked her way down her cleavage, lightly, each touch of tongue or lips only leaving Tara wanting more. She spent a long while tasting Tara's breasts, one then the other, from above, beneath, either side. Tara's breathing was deep, labored with desire, when Willow finally allowed herself to taste one of the nipples standing so proudly before her.

"Ah!" Tara exclaimed, arching her back into a deep curve, almost lifting Willow from the bed as she thrust herself towards the blissful contact. Her arms flexed above her, grabbing handfuls of pillow and clenching tight, her legs kicked beneath the blankets, while already her hips were rolling back and forth, seeking release for her yearning, dripping sex.

Supporting herself with her hands, Willow cheerfully denied Tara the contact she craved. Her tongue flicked back and forth across her nipples, touching their peaks or running up from beneath them, her lips ghosted around the straining points, but always only for a fraction of a second, enough to make Tara gasp, moan, writhe, never enough to satisfy.

"Goddess, Willow," Tara growled, unable to contain herself. Willow lifted her head for a moment to give a triumphant smile, then lowered herself again, trailing tantalizing licks and kisses down Tara's stomach. Tara moaned with every breath now, and it took only the slightest touch of Willow's tongue on her inner thighs to part her legs, to reveal to Willow, in the warm, muffled light filtering in past the blankets piled over her back and shoulders, the glistening of Tara's nectar coating her.

"Beautiful," Willow murmured once more, settling herself down between Tara's legs. Tara strained towards her as she held back, inhaling her scent, her musk still thick, heady from a night of heated love and passion.

"Mmm," she purred, letting her tongue flick out, gathering a tiny sample of arousal from Tara's lips. She savored the taste fully, while Tara groaned aloud and worked her hips desperately, then returned for another, and another. Daring Tara's restraint she let her lips settle around Tara's folds and sucked gently, tenderly and slowly, while her arms stealthily encircled Tara's thighs, her hands flattening against her hips.

"W-Willow," Tara gasped. Willow gave a last, faint lick to Tara's mound and lifted her head, staring up into Tara's wild gaze.

"I need," Tara pleaded, nodding fitfully. Willow smiled, then pursed her lips and blew Tara a kiss. The relief on her face was almost that of release, and Willow was buoyed to realize that she had brought Tara so close that just the promise of the culmination of her teasing was almost enough to sate her. Etching Tara's joyous, yearning face in her memory, she closed her eyes, lowered herself to Tara's mound, and encircled her clit with hungry lips.

"Oh, Goddess!" Tara screamed as her climax crashed through her, set free after what seemed an eternity of agonizing, blissful torment. Her hips bucked – Willow's grip around her thighs was like steel, and from denying her the release she craved, now she focused all her attention to the reverse, to giving her no respite from her release. As Tara moaned and writhed, Willow kept her lips firmly in place, her own moans at Tara's pleasure vibrating through them both, her tongue ceaseless in its caresses.

Sweat beaded on Tara's brow as she came and came, careless of who might hear her cries, all her being focused purely on the woman she loved, who she surrendered everything to, and in return was gifted with this most intense pleasure. Again and again her body shuddered, her core clenched and gushed its arousal, and whether her climax was repeating or whether it simply never ended, she had no idea. There was only Willow…nothing but Willow…

…surrounded by Willow. She returned to awareness cradled in Willow's embrace, to the deliciously tender sensation of being kissed. She sighed happily and curled her arms around Willow's waist, helping a little as Willow tugged the blankets back over both of them.

"You were right," she murmured when the lips opened against hers made their way down her cheek, "I can't remember my own name."

"Is that like how you say 'Willow'? Your lips mould the name, your tongue caresses it…sensual, like a slow kiss…you make 'Willow' the most beautiful name ever spoken."

"Taaaraaa," Willow murmured sexily into Tara's ear, eliciting a tremble from her, a tightening of the arms around her waist.

"What was it you were convincing me of?" she replied. "'Cause I think I'm thoroughly convinced…"

"I…actually, I forgot," Willow shrugged with a grin. "Tell you what, how about you and me go have a long, hot shower…maybe it'll come back to me?"

"I like that plan," Tara agreed, "except that it involves getting out of this lovely warm bed, with my lovely warm Willow…sigh, what a dilemma," she pouted theatrically, making Willow laugh.

"Come on, drama queen," she grinned, gingerly edging back the covers, "it's not that- yikes, it is cold. Hey, look." Tara followed her gaze to the window, seeing the outside patterned at the corners by intricate webs of frost.

"Here," Tara offered, quickly jumping out of bed to the dresser and retrieving a pair of long robes, one of which she tossed to Willow. "I'll get a fire going."

"You're a goddess," Willow said, pulling the robe on tight. She paused to kneel behind Tara, as she selected a couple of logs from the pile, and pulled the back of her robe down just enough to press a leisurely kiss to the nape of her neck.

"I try," Tara smiled. "Remember we've got to be ready to meet the Duke…what do you suppose he wants?"

"Guessing? Just going through the motions," Willow shrugged. She picked up her belt from the table, where she had left it lying the evening before, and began removing the various scrolls and potion vials from it, storing them neatly in the shelves of the writing desk.

"He's probably been given reports from the army by now," she went on, "the monastery, the demons, all that. If it's an audience, it's probably just that he needs to make an official statement. We did cause a decent-sized area of his realm to blow up, after all," she chuckled, "he'd have to acknowledge that one way or the other. Given that we got a polite invitation, not a squad of Palace guards, I guess he's read the reports from the Zann Esu delegation, and accepted their decision that we did well. I wouldn't be surprised if Tryptin got a word in his ear as well," she added.

"Well," Willow said, putting her belt aside and sitting on the table, staring speculatively out of the window, "then…I'm a free sorceress now, unless the Council specifically assigns me a mission, I can choose where to go…I'd actually like to continue traveling, just as they arranged for me. Stay here a while, then head into Khanduras, or go further west along the river…the only difference is that now I'd be traveling at my discretion, not at the Council's orders." She slid off the table and came over to where Tara had started a small fire, kneeling down at her side to feel its warmth.

"Of course, that means if I wanted to take time off, I could…If you want to return home with Tryptin and the others, I'll come with you. I'd like to see your home…our home."

Tara turned to her, a gentle smile on her face. She raised a hand to Willow's cheek and lightly stroked it, her fingertips tracing the contours of her face, brushing the corner of her lips in passing.

"We will go home one day," she promised, "but it doesn't have to be right away. There's so much of the world I haven't seen yet…I have the chance to see it, with you. I'd very much like to. Whatever we choose," she leaned in and grazed her lips over Willow's, "we'll be together."

"Forever and always," Tara nodded. She kissed Willow again, gently and slowly, and when she sat back on her heels there was a quirky smile on her lips. "When I asked 'then what', though," she added, "I just meant later today." Willow blinked, then abruptly laughed.

"In that case," she giggled, "um…well, the audience probably won't take long, just a few minutes standing in front of the Duke while he says his piece, then I don't know…Myrreon might be there, so I'll talk to him about resuming my studies, but that won't start until tomorrow at the earliest."

"I should check in at the barracks," Tara mentioned, "although with so many troops out in the field, there's probably not going to be anyone much to train for a couple of weeks."

"Shopping," Willow said, as they stood up and turned from the fire's growing warmth, "my treat – I'm buying us the thickest, fluffiest, softest, most luxurious robes I can find. With matching slippers," she added, prompting a giggle from Tara. Reaching the table, she picked up her belt and undid the few remaining pouches.

"We could just wear warmer clothes," Tara suggested jokingly, "you know, rather than wander around in only our robes until it's time to go out."

"Ah, but you see, the thing about robes," Willow pointed out sagely, "is that they offer such excellent access to each other, and that's something I don't intend to give up…what's this?"

"What's what?" Tara asked. Willow slid the two notebooks out of their pouch, and Tara saw that several pages of parchment, neatly folded, had been slipped in between them. A brief note was written on the back of the topmost.

"'Have fun, from Cyan also. -E'. It's from Ember," she clarified, frowning in confusion.

"She went through the scrolls and potions yesterday, while the delegation was deliberating, just a formality…Gods, I hope she didn't read our private journal," Willow said earnestly, "or see your drawings…there'll be no end to her teasing- what in the holy heavens?" She unfolded the aged parchment to reveal reams of text and diagrams, intricate equations and illustrations of runes, formulae, rituals, gestures.

"Elemental magic," Willow said in a hushed tone, "governing principles, applications, the primal theories…it's in code- this is from the journal!" she exclaimed in an astonished whisper. "This is Moac's! I recognize the code, it's part of his journal…why on earth did Ember put this in here?"

"It's the Seal, isn't it?" Tara asked. "She showed me the case yesterday while we were waiting, this is the section of the book they took out of it. Isn't it?"

"I think I've got an idea," Tara said, comprehension dawning on her face. "Think about it – how many ancient manuscripts have you got at the moment? Unbound, like this."

"How many…? Um, well, I picked up a copy of a copy of Tremayne's 'Elemental Forces' in Kingsport…there's Passha's 'Primal Magical Nature', I've had that for a couple of years, but it comes in handy now and then…Warrach and Yseult's dissertation on microscopic force control, a couple of others, oh, and Myrreon's having a copy made of his Arctic Codex, that's a Vizjerei text on ice magic…"

"And how many are valuable?" Tara persisted. "Would any of them be worth stealing?"

"Well, to an unscrupulous mage," Willow hesitated, "no, not even then, really…they're not that difficult to find, it'd be easier to just track one down on your own…what are you getting at?"

"Ember's hiding the Seal where no-one will look for it," Tara explained, "I mean, if some madman or demon wanted to rebuild Hellebore, what would they do? They'd try to get the journal from the Zann Esu vaults-"

"-and get the Seal case from Ember," Tara went on, "and from what you've told me of her, I don't like anyone's chances of achieving that, either. Who would think of trying to steal one of the manuscripts you're carrying around to study?"

"But…okay," Willow argued, "that's true, but giving me the pages…I mean, I'm not about to try to take over the world or anything, but it's still dangerous…What if I misused the magic? Or, what if someone did steal them from me, for some reason? Not that I'm about to let my guard down, but…"

"They still wouldn't have the rest of the journal," Tara pointed out, "and it's no different to Ember carrying the Seal. Except that no-one looking for the Seal would try to steal it from you – so far as everyone but you, me, Ember and Cyan know, these pages are in the case she's carrying. As for misusing it," Tara shook her head, "you made that mistake once, I'm sure Ember knows you better than to think you haven't learned from that. After all, you learn from everything."

"She's made me a Seal-bearer," Willow mused, "in secret…why me? I mean, why not one of the Council, or a more experienced sorceress, she knows plenty- "

"The same reason I would," Tara said gently, "because, even if all else fails, she trusts you. To keep this safe…and to put it to good use." Willow hesitated, idly tracing her fingertips over some of the patterns on the pages in her hand.

"You really think…she trusts me that much?" she asked. There was a note of awed hope in her voice, and Tara realized how important it was to Willow to believe she lived up to her mentor's expectations.

"Yes," she answered sincerely, lightly holding Willow's shoulders, "I really do."

"I…" Willow hesitated, "…oh my gods…b-but what do I do with it? I should keep it with me, I'll- no, I know, a spell, something I can set off if it's stolen, to destroy it, I'll have to look up the preparations for a standing fire spell-"

"Willow," Tara interrupted patiently, "have you ever, in your entire life, lost a book?"

"Look up spells later, then. Put it with your other books," Tara said warmly, "then come have a shower with me." Willow looked from Tara to the pages, and back again.

"Okay," she decided, and Tara felt the tension go out of her shoulders. "Only because it's you, mind," Willow added, "there's not many people in this world more tempting to me than an ancient, cryptic manuscript."

"I'm glad I'm one of them," Tara laughed. Willow slipped the pages back between the two notebooks, and put them in the desk.

"You're the only one," she replied. "You know, if the Power That Is wrote a notebook on how She brought the world into being…I swear you could tempt me away from it."

What with one thing and another, showering took the better part of half an hour, and belatedly realizing the time, Willow and Tara dried quickly, hoping to find just enough time to squeeze in breakfast before having to venture forth for their audience with the Duke. Jesye, it seemed, had anticipated this, and had a hot breakfast already waiting when Tara descended the stairs to the attendant's room to see what the kitchen could whip up in a hurry.

"There's a letter for you Miss," she said to Willow, after placing bowls of hot porridge and a jug of fruit juice on the table, "and one for you too, Miss," she added to Tara, reaching into the shoulder bag she had with her. To Willow she handed a slim, plain envelope; to Tara, a package wrapped in waterproof oilcloth. On the bed she carefully laid out Tara's armor and Willow's battlegear, both having been carefully cleaned by the Palace laundry, paused to stock another log onto the fire with her customary efficiency, then departed.

"It's from one of the faculties in the university," Willow explained, opening her letter, "a response to one of the letters I sent when we arrived."

"That's colleges for you," Willow said idly, "it's probably been collecting dust on a desk somewhere until someone remembered…what's yours?"

"From home," Tara smiled. Willow put aside her letter and started on her breakfast, watching Tara contentedly as she opened the package, grinning all the while.

"It's from Eponin," Tara went on, drawing out a letter folded at the top of the package, "she…oh my Goddess…" Willow was on her feet, having seen the joy in Tara's eyes turn to surprise, then disbelief, as she read the page.

"What?" she asked, coming to stand at Tara's side. Looking down, she saw the oilcloth contained a slim wooden box, square and flat. With a shaking hand Tara put down the accompanying letter and undid the tiny brass latch on the box. She paused, and for a moment seemed lost in hesitation. Willow's gaze moved between the box and her face – there was no fear or dismay in her eyes, but something made her anxious, apprehensive. Willow put a hand gently on her shoulder in mute support; Tara glanced at her, her eyes warming, with a hint of moisture, and then she looked down and opened the box.

Within, resting on a bed of padded red silk, was a slim gold circlet, in every way the double of the one now sitting on the mantle, that Tara wore as part of her ceremonial or battledress.

"What does it mean?" Willow frowned, confused. "Eponin sent you another circlet? Why-" she broke off as she saw Tara's lip tremble.

"For y-you," she said in a tiny, awed voice. She swallowed and said again, "it's for you." She turned to Willow, who was struck dumb by dawning comprehension.

"I-I wrote from Kingsport," she explained, "I knew…even so soon after we'd met, I believe with all my heart…you're special. I knew I'd follow you anywhere, a-and…and never want to let you go. I knew I loved you…and then, I was finally coming to believe that…that you loved me…somehow, I was the one you loved…" She swallowed again and continued.

"In the letter I sent back home, I told her…everything. What I felt for you, what I dreamed of…I told her I wanted to stay with you, and that one day, I hoped you would come home with me, to the Islands…to become," her voice fell to a whisper, "to become part of my family."

Willow tried to speak, but found it completely beyond her. Tara stared at her, searching her face, then took a steadying breath and went on.

"You remember I told you," she said, "an Amazon is never alone, never without a family. As an orphan I was accepted into Eponin's family…but my family, my mother and father, their ancestors before them, they're still a part of me too. I wear my mother's circlet…and it's the tradition that if someone like me, orphaned, is…" she glanced down nervously, "is joined, with another…then, my true family line is restored. B-because," she reached hesitantly for Willow, stroked her cheek, "I'm not alone…I have you."

Again Willow wanted to speak, but no words would come to her, nor would her mouth and throat answer her – all she could do was lift her hand, to hold Tara's gently, firmly against her cheek.

"N-normally," Tara went on, after a moment of anxious silence, "the mistress of the clan house would approve such a joining, the restoration of a family line within the clan…I-I wanted…back then, everything was so new, so I only hoped…one day, to present you to Eponin, to ask for her approval…I was sure she would…and th-then she'd have a new circlet made, a-and enter in the clan's records the rebirth of my…our family…"

"Th-this…?" Willow asked, finally able to form a word. She reached for the circlet, but her fingertips shied away from touching it. Tara nodded shyly.

"I-I guess I must've described you well," she said with a tremulous smile. "She's entrusted me with my family's future, under her clan…she's made the choice mine…to offer this…t-to you…i-if you…if you want…?" her voice trailed into silence, as she stared, yearning, into Willow's eyes.

Willow stood rooted to the spot, unable to move or speak to save her life. Her mouth hung open, lower lip trembling; her hand, holding Tara's to her face, fell silently down, her arms hanging at her sides.

"I-I know it's…well, not a long time," Tara said, anxiety creeping up her cheeks in the form of a blush, as the silence went on, "we haven't known each other that long, I mean…but we've shared so much…I can't imagine my life now without you, I…if you want to wait, I-I understand, there's no rush…I'm yours, I always will be…do you want…? Sh-should I have waited…? I'm sorry, if it's too soon, I-"

The sadness creeping into her eyes in an instant overrode the shock and awe keeping Willow silent, and at last she found her voice.

"Wh-what…?" Tara asked, the shining hope in her gaze rekindled in the blink of an eye.

"I will," Willow repeated, her voice firming, "I will. I will marry you. I will…" she trailed off as the enormity of her words hit her. "…oh my gods…I will marry you." Her lips curved into a smile, then she let out a gasp of joyful laughter, as if simply unable to contain the emotions within her.

"Y-you will?" Tara asked, her face that of someone staring into the eyes of a goddess, wondering if she dared believe it was true.

"Willow…" Tara said at last, searching for something to say, some magical words that would be anything but woefully inadequate for the love flowering inside her.

"I think you mean 'my betrothed'," Willow suggested with a dazzling smile, quickly answered by Tara.

"Yes," she said, "yes, I do." Gently, tenderly, her movements guided by angels, Tara cupped Willow's cheeks in both hands, leant forward, closed her eyes, and brought their lips together.

It was as if she was discovering Willow's lips for the first time, as she had so many days and nights ago, late in a drafty corridor in a castle far away. Her first thought was the same: 'so soft…oh Goddess, so soft…' and though she had initiated the kiss this time, just as she had been then she was now rendered speechless, immobile, her mind and soul a blank slate that was filled by the tender caress of Willow's lips on hers. Love filled her, gave her warmth and life and dreams, and then her life, memories of home and strange wilderness, of happiness and loneliness, danger and sanctuary, memories of all the times of bliss she and Willow had shared, shy, tender adoration, soaring passion, burning desire – all returned to her, settled around the core of perfect, pure love.

She drew her lips from Willow's, felt her breathe a sigh against her cheek, and at last opened her eyes again.

"Willow," she whispered, robbed of all other thought when Willow's eyes opened, and connected with her gaze.

"Tara," Willow answered, her face flushed with love and arousal, her chest rising and falling with deep breaths. A smile tugged at her mouth, turning up the corners, and Tara smiled too, as if her joy and Willow's were inseparable.

"M-marriage," Willow said, nodding slightly, "if I…I mean, if that's how it goes…when an Amazon and a, a…whatever I am," she grinned sheepishly.

"Ceremony," Tara said again, her mind catching up, "yes! Yes, there's- what do you mean, whatever you are?"

"I was just wondering," Willow explained, "I'm not an Amazon, I didn't know if your traditions were different in that case, or…" she shrugged.

"Willow," Tara said tenderly, "you…you can be. You don't have to be born Amazon, if you and I become family, you have as much right to call yourself Amazon as I do. If that's what you want," she added with a shy smile.

"That is exactly what I want," Willow replied, then ventured a grin. "Besides, there's no sorceress marriage rite…I-I'd be deeply honored to be your wife, as an Amazon." Tara nodded, then with trembling hands undid the sash around her waist.

"This is our way," she explained quietly, slipping the robe from her shoulders. She then reached down to the table behind herself, and after a moment's blind searching her hand found the circlet, still nestled in its silken case.

"I am naked before you," she whispered, the words of a ritual apparent in her tone, "body and soul. All that I am you see, and all that you see I offer to you. If it is your wish, by my honor and that which I hold sacred, I am yours." Tentatively, she held out the circlet.

Willow's breath caught, and then her hands were reaching forward. About to touch the slim arc of gold she paused, then her hands quickly drew back, undoing her sash and discarding her robe in turn. She took a step closer to Tara and gently put her hands on the circlet, holding it but not yet taking it from Tara's hands, their fingertips touching.

"I-I offer myself," she said in a tiny whisper, "all that I am…a-as I accept you, so I am yours." Tara's eyes dropped to the circlet as Willow at last lifted it from her hands, and her gaze followed it as she lifted it to her head, slipped its ends carefully over her ears, and slid it back until it rested on her brow. As Willow's hands withdrew, Tara let out a great sigh, almost a moan of release, from deep inside herself.

"W-we are joined," she said, taking a step forward herself, her hands finding Willow's and holding them. "B-by our tradition, in one year we shall be wed…if that is your wish," she added. This time though, all her nervousness was gone, and Willow saw only playful joy behind her eyes.

"My Gods," Willow breathed, "Amazon…me…" She let out a soft cascade of breath, a quiet, jubilant laugh. "We're family now?"

"No it most certainly does not," she chuckled. "Oh Goddess, I don't think I've ever been so nervous in my entire life…"

"I know," Tara laughed, "but…Goddess, I just proposed marriage. If you can't get nervous at that, what can you?"

"I'll admit to more than a few butterflies in the stomach myself," Willow offered, "I…I dreamed, you know? But when it's real…was taking off my robe right? That was a custom, wasn't it?"

"For me, yes," Tara said, "as the one proposing…it's why proposals are generally done in private…you didn't have to, it's not required by tradition, but" her smile broadened, if that were possible, "it meant so much to me that you did…and," she raised an eyebrow, and her smile turned sultry, "it's very much appreciated."

"Mmm," Willow purred, "well I have to say, I like your customs very much indeed…we're betrothed for a year, then?"

"-return to the Islands in a year's time," Willow completed the sentence, and Tara nodded. "Then that's what we'll do. But in the meantime…" she trailed off, her gaze darting between Tara's eyes and her parted lips.

She took Willow in her arms, kissing her passionately, and Willow responded at once, her arms around Tara's back, pulling her closer even as her mouth opened and her tongue met Tara's inside. With one quick step her legs touched the bed behind her, and Tara advanced, lowering her to the tangled sheets and blankets. Tara's bold kiss drew moans from her, each swallowed as her lips and tongue were devoured, while her legs parted, inviting the press of Tara's thigh against her center.

"Yes," she gasped raggedly into the lips consuming her. She raised her leg just as Tara straddled it, feeling at once the heated wetness waiting for her touch, and as if ordained by the gods to join, they moved together. Hips surged forward and drew back, skin rubbed against flushed folds and eager, tender nubs, and still they kissed, as their bodies together moved as one, fuelling the fires inside, spilling liquid passion across their thighs.

"I love you," Tara murmured, her lips moving across Willow's but never leaving them.

"I love you-" Willow whispered back, stealing the second it took before her hand went to the back of Tara's head, pulling her down, opening her mouth again to her exploration. Tara let out a carefree groan of delight, her hands clutching at Willow's back, her legs trembling, every part of her body feeling light as a feather, energized like the heart of a thunderstorm, yearning for release. Almost disbelieving of both the racing speed and blinding intensity of the feelings within her, Willow felt herself rise to join Tara, her pleasure needing only the knowledge that it was shared to deluge her.

In a moment of oblivious passion and pure clarity, both women tensed, their hands pressed against smooth skin beaded with sweat, their legs entangled, trembling against each other's centers. Then climax was upon them – wedded moans welled up from within their throats, mingling in their joined mouths, as a single release dawned in two cores, flooding through their joined bodies like a wave washing intertwined lovers on the ocean's shore.

When the waves at last receded, the lovers found themselves in the center of the bed, their limbs wrapped around each other, held as tightly as could be. Their lips remained pressed together, and after a moment, as one they began to taste each other anew, tongues stirring to life, eyes fluttering open for a glimpse of an answering gaze before closing again, hands beginning new explorations of their bodies.

"That I am," Tara smiled, "it's official." She trailed her fingertips up Willow's side and over her shoulder, finally reaching up and lightly touching the circlet Willow still wore.

"You can take this off if you want," she said, "once it's accepted, it's yours forever."

"Leave it on," Willow grinned. Tara's mouth turned upwards to an answering grin, and she tenderly kissed her betrothed, tasting her lips like a fine delicacy.

"Yours," Willow smiled, resting her forehead lightly against Tara's, careful not to press too hard as the circlet touched her skin, "all yours…to hold, to kiss, to caress, to taste, to take and play with and devour and be pleasured and sate your insatiable hunger with and…and always, always to love."

"Uh-huh," Willow nodded, "all that. So, lover…betrothed…my wife-to- be…how shall I love you now?" She ran the tip of her tongue over her lips, wetting them.

"You said something about insatiable hunger?" Tara purred, stirring her leg between Willow's thighs.

"I'll do more than that," Willow promised, "I'll…" she trailed off, a sudden expression of confusion clouding her features.

"Oh hell!" Tara yelped, scrambling off the bed and reaching for her armor, which had been pushed to the floor at some point.

"Here," Tara said, tossing the rumpled garments to her, while trying to unpack her bronze breastplate and greaves from the drawers at the same time. Willow was by her side in a moment, gathering her boots, turning her skirt the right way out, shaking the potion and scroll pouches off her belt with one hand while the other packed her notebooks, and the pages Ember had given her, back in with the other.

Half-dressed, something made her pause and turn to Tara, just as Tara left the half-tied laces on her leather and turned to her. For a moment they were unhurried, stepping into each other's reach, arms gentle around each other's waists, lips meeting like clouds in the sky, patient and inevitable, calm and soft.

"My Willow," Tara replied. For a moment they hesitated, desire kindling in their gazes.

"We have to go," Willow sighed, as if searching for a way to convince herself otherwise.

They shared one more quiet kiss, then reluctantly parted, and resumed their frenzied attempt to get dressed in some presentable fashion as fast as possible.

Jesye hurried the two women through the corridors of the Palace, carrying Willow's staff and Tara's spear and bow, even as Willow was still adjusting the folds of her top, and Tara was doing up the last of her harness straps, one hand holding her breastplate in place until she got it secured. They finished just in time, as Jesye brought them to a pair of ornate old oak doors, carved with abstract scrollwork along the edges. She handed Tara her bow, Willow her staff, then Tara her spear, the bow having gone onto her back, accepted their profuse thanks with humble grace, and quickly straightened her tunic before straightening and knocking on the oak.

The doors opened from within, and Willow and Tara both froze as dozens of people stood from the seats on either side of a crimson-carpeted aisle and turned towards them. With Jesye's subtle prompting they walked down the aisle, gazing in bewilderment at the crowd. Tryptin and the Amazons were there, to a man smiling with pride, and Ember, next to Tryptin – Willow noticed her eyes flicker to the circlet still on her brow, and the older sorceress raised her eyebrows and beamed after whispering a question to Tryptin and receiving a nod in reply. On Ember's other side were Cyan and Sirillia, and the three lightning sorceresses from the Zann Esu delegation, with half a dozen eminent- looking mages from the university accompanying them. There were a dozen officers from the barracks, some that Tara had spoken with now and then, some she merely knew by sight; Myrreon, resplendent in his colorful Vizjerei robes, Zan and Ocean, similarly attired, on either side of him. Tara saw another familiar face, and nudged Willow – both forgot their confusion and nervousness as they saw Amalee wave, with Brydan holding her as she stood on her seat to gain height, his other hand around the waist of Joma, who smiled serenely as she cradled their son in her arms. Solaris and Refash were standing nearby, both in striking blue coats, trimmed with gold, and matching turbans, and beside them was Lissa, beaming.

With only the occasional nudge from Jesye to keep them moving, they reached the end of the aisle, where the Duke himself stood, the Duchess at his side, and an advisor of some stature, to judge by his elaborate attire, on his other side. Behind them were a pair of guards, and to Willow and Tara's surprise, to the Duchess's side stood Lindia, looking like she had just ridden in, still in the same leather outfit she wore in the wilderness. She gave the couple a wink, but otherwise remained impassive.

"Lady Tara, warrior of the Amazon Nation," the Duke said in a loud, clear voice, "Lady Willow, sorceress of the Zann Esu-" the advisor glanced at Willow's circlet and murmured something, "and of the Amazon Nation also," the Duke went on, barely missing a beat, "as Duke of this city and realm, and Regent of Westmarch, I greet you in honor." And he bowed, not the bow of a lord to a guest, but a deep bow of respect. Taken aback, Willow and Tara exchanged glanced, before hastily returning the Duke's bow, bending low themselves as he had done.

"Three days ago," the Duke continued, "you two, alone, confronted a foe the likes of which has not been seen in Westmarch since the days of legend, a captain in the legions of the burning hells, such as would strike fear into an army, and threatened to reduce our proud city, this realm, and perhaps more, to ruin and chaos. Let it be known," he raised his voice slightly, addressing the crowd, "that Lady Tara and Lady Willow faced this foe with the courage, purpose and prowess of true valor. That they confronted this great enemy, and cast it down into the pit from which it was spawned. Let their deeds live in legend."

He paused as a cheer rose from the assembled audience. Willow and Tara again exchanged glanced, neither able to muster a coherent thought. When they turned their attention back to the Duke, the advisor had produced a cushion on which were two glimmering rings. The Duke took them, one in each hand, and held them for the gathering to see.

"By the power invested in my as Duke and Regent to the line of kings," he said, "from this day forth, I decree that Lady Tara and Lady Willow be invested as Knights Lioness of Westmarch. With the blessings of this realm," he held the two rings out to Willow and Tara, "may you bring honor to this ancient order."

Acting purely on instinct both women reached out and took the rings from the Duke's hands. They turned to each other, holding the slim bands of gold up, staring at them. Tara saw, engraved in masterful detail, the shield of a knightly order, a lioness stern and defiant above the heraldry. Around the band, in an elaborate hand, was carved 'Tara, Warrior of the Amazon Nation'. Glancing at the matching ring in Willow's hands, her keen eyes could just make out 'Willow, Zann Esu' engraved there.

Her eyes met Willow's, and in that moment all else fell away. Without realizing it she brought her hands to Willow's, gently pressing the ring into her palm, accepting Willow's in return. She closed her hand around it, then lifted it in her fingertips. Willow held out her hand, ready. The entire hall seemed to hold its breath as Tara slipped the ring onto Willow's middle finger. Then it was Willow's turn – she lifted the ring from her palm, gently held Tara's hand, and stared into her fathomless gaze as she put the ring onto Tara's finger.

The hall erupted with applause, but Willow and Tara remained lost in each other. Each taking a step forward, then stood face to face, a fraction of an inch between them. They dimly registered what was going on around them: the Duke leading the applause with stately dignity, Tryptin and the Amazons singing a victorious salute in High Amazonian, Amalee clapping and bouncing with delight, Ember's face streaked with proud tears…but they had eyes only for each other.

"I love you, my Willow," Tara whispered. Her lips remained parted a fraction, hoping.

"I love you, my Tara," Willow replied. She tilted her head back a little, the lift of her chin inviting. Their arms went around one another, their eyes closed, and once more, they kissed.

"All else is transitory; the time will come when even the gods fade away. But love endures. Cherish love; nurture it, protect it, rejoice in its coming. Be true to love. And should any being, be they man or woman, demon or god, seek to take from you that which you love, defy them. For love gives you that power."

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