Crimson and Gold (Attn: Marla)

[Jenn]

((Continued from Breaking Point, after Colour Change.))
Katrie

The pretty Cairhienin let out an unintelligible noise of sheer frustration as she left the Infirmary, aware enough, at least, to make sure to keep her complaints muttered and under her breath. Katrie wanted to pull at her hair... no, better yet, she wanted to pull at Liza's hair... snatch the chestnut ringlets right out of the Aes Sedai's head. Or maybe scoop out those impassive eyes.

The tall Accepted tried out some of the phrases she had picked up from Dax, casting a furtive glance behind her. The words came clumsily but she repeated them with great relish, and as she did so, she was surprised to find that the foul language actually did help to make her feel a little better. Even if she had no idea what anything she was saying actually meant.

She stormed past Novices and fellow Accepted alike, fuming silently as she hurried towards her rooms before the foul, ill-tempered witch that lay hidden beneath the pretty yellow silk and jewels thought of yet another task for her to do. Light, but if she had to mill one more herb, she was going to scream. Her fingers were stained with blue and it would be days before the colour finally washed out. There were some things that Katrie didn't mind doing; she actually kind of enjoyed changing out old bandages for fresh new ones. The patients appreciated that at least, and it made her feel like she was actually useful. It also kept Liza grumpy Sedai from hovering and scrutinizing everything the Cairhienin Accepted touched.

Insufferable... the wretched woman was absolutely insufferable; that was the only non-expletive she could think of to describe the Yellow Sister. This marked her twelfth day beneath Liza Sedai's thumb – each one becoming more tedious and ineffectual than the last. Something had angered the Aes Sedai, Liza's displeasure obvious, but what exactly it'd been, Katrie couldn't say.

Pain flared behind her eyes. Another headache. She rolled her shoulders, trying to ease some of the tension in her neck, confused for a moment as the unfamiliar weight of the heavy braid her hair was bound in rolled back and forth against her spine. Twelve days since she had last seen Dax. Her brows drew together and she rubbed at her chest absently, what felt like hot needles pushing through her heart. Her thoughts lingered on the Tairen, Katrie unable to stop herself from touching along the emptiness in her mind where he had once inhabited. The silence was slowly suffocating her.

She reached her room without incident but knew that she would find no peace within. The pretty Accepted pulled up the mattress, gathering her wrinkled notes to her as quickly as she could. She had to get out... she had to get away. There was no where within the Tower walls that she felt comfortable, and as she closed her door shut behind her again, there was only one place she could think of that might grant her some few hours of quiet freedom. She felt the corners of her mouth tick upwards – it'd remind her of Dax too, but at least it was unlikely that Liza Sedai would swoop down on her and haul her away.

As she left the Tower behind, Katrie allowed herself to enjoy the walk itself, her mind focusing on the path beneath her feet. She felt the way the soles of her slippers crunched along gravel, the slight give against her toes as the ground gradually changed, softening to grass. She breathed in deeply, steadying herself, before ducking behind one of the broken walls. The ruins of the old Tower were exactly as she remembered it. If brown eyes lingered a moment too long over one spot in particular, no one was there to accuse her of doing so.

Slender fingers gathered the banded pristine skirts around her before she lowered herself to the ground, long legs folding beneath her. The pretty Cairhienin spent several long moments trying to remember how to relax, but finally gave up as the tension simply would not leave her body.

Katrie embraced saidar after some hesitation, weaving together two flat meshes of Air laced with Spirit and Fire. The Accepted set it to either side of her, angling it so that she would be hidden behind the concealment weave. It wasn't perfect... the edge of the weave would be obvious to anyone who actually looked, the shadows and the finer details such as grass and rocks missing. She didn't care; she wasn't going for perfect - merely so that anyone passing by, unlikely as that was, wouldn't notice and intrude. The pretty Cairhienin tied off the weaves and released her hold on the Power.

She spread her notes out in front of her, dark brown eyes scanning the pages. Hiding weaves. She recalled reading something about that... and well, she wanted to try and figure out what that meant without Liza Sedai's “help”. The Yellow had been more of nuisance than anything else this past week and Katrie was convinced that the Aes Sedai was actively trying to hinder her efforts in trying to figure out this Talent that she supposedly had. The Accepted muttered under her breath. She could keep herself from sight... maybe this 'hiding weaves' thing was another method of doing so.

“There you are.”

Katrie jerked in surprise at the voice, sable orbs going skyward to look up into perfect blue. He had made no noise whatsoever. “Dax!” She would have felt him approach if… she couldn’t finish that thought. The tentative smile she offered him belied the fierce joy that thrummed through her at seeing him, brown eyes practically glowing. “What are you doing here?”

[Sunny]

Dax

For all his finesse with sword and fist, Dax could not seem to control his pen properly when he wrote. He loathed the entire process. Not only did it make him feel stupid, it brought back memories of Tear that he preferred to forget. I don't have time to teach that mudlark how to read, Jemis, his brother's wife Darlenne had said. He's never going to make it anyway, and I need that time to prepare for my shows. His brother had laughed in agreement. A few months later he had caught Dax copying letters from his niece's school books and shaken him until the world rattled and spun. Never touch her things again. I don't care what you want. Light boy, stop sniveling; you aren't worth the time it takes to beat. The Gaidin looked down at the list he had been writing, and realized that the ink had been smudged by falling moisture. Burn it all. He crumbled the page and tossed it into a corner where several other similar papers had gathered, then carefully dipped his pen once more.

He had finally taught himself to write after his father came back. Jem Torellion had thrown money around like candy, but cared little what his children did with it. Dax had not initially thought to use it to learn to write, but three merchants had refused to hire him because he did not know his letters, and that had sealed the deal. He had purchased the necessary supplies and bribed a cook in an upper city inn to teach him what the mysterious shapes meant, and then- then things had happened. Now he avoided reading and writing unless he had to, and even then spent little time with either. At least I know how.

Today he worked on a list of the things he had done in preparation for departure, in hopes that writing it all out would show him any gaps in his planning. Few presented themselves. Between the time he had spent traveling and his training in the Yards, he had had considerable practice with this type of preparation. Only…in the past he had not traveled with a companion who mattered more to him than the contents of their purse. If an employer died it was bad for his purse and his business, but it had no actual effect on his heart. If something happened to Katrie, however…he forced that thought away.

Smudge-free list finally constructed, the Gaidin folded the paper, tucked it into his pocket, and strode out. He walked unerringly north and west, far into the depths of the Tower grounds where few others wandered and straight to the ruins of the old Tower.

His feet unerringly took him to the place where, nearly a year before, he had been resting when Katrie found him after his test. Looking at it, he remembered that moment as if it had happened yesterday, the exact second. “My name, Dax,” she had said, eyes on his in the golden sunlight. Creator save me, I gave it to her, he thought, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. It hadn’t been the last time, either, and each time it had come easier. And then… His thoughts shattered, and he turned away.

He could not sit in that spot, could not fathom what he would do if she found him there. He came to the ruins every day to wait for Katrie, and every day he had the same internal conversation. Every day, he found a spot across from that wall to settle until the sun fell behind the mountains and shadows chased away the memories that danced in his head. Unless the Accepted decided to visit, that day would be no different; he propped himself against the ruined wall, pulled his hood up, and let his thoughts drift.

Not long after, he heard footsteps. He slowed his breath to near silence, trusting the fancloak to mask his presence from undesired company. Katrie appeared around the corner, her white dress catching the light, and his stillness took on a different feeling. The last time he had seen her she had been stumbling and in pain. Today she moved with the same lithe grace she always had, her dark hair bound in a thick braid down her back. When did it get long enough to plait?

She glanced around briefly, then settled...right where he had been sitting all that time before, facing north. He took a breath, then released it slowly, struggling to pull his thoughts in order. He had no reason to believe she found the memory of that day as tantalizing as he did….and yet she had chosen that spot to sit. The empty space in his mind gnawed at him. What use is freedom if I do not enjoy it? He thought sardonically.

As he watched her, her fingers began to move in an odd pattern before her. Abruptly, she vanished entirely. The Gaidin straightened in surprise, eyes narrowing as he examined the place she had been. It did not take long for him to realize she had done something with the One Power. I thought she did not have much strength… He tucked that curiosity away, and stalked toward the spot where she had been. Could she see him? He moved to the side, and as he passed a certain point she came into view as if he had walked past a wall or a curtain. She had spread papers in front of her, staring down at them with a perplexed frown. He hesitated a moment, not wishing to interrupt her, but finally his need to hear her voice overrode his grasp of courtesy. He circled behind her, then said “there you are.”

She jumped, gaze swinging up, and he smiled down. In his mind, he grabbed her hand and pulled her up, fingers twining together as he pushed her back against that wall and covered her mouth with his. In his mind, darkness filled a spot where light should be. He hid his flinch as she spoke. “Dax! What are you doing here?” Her smile seemed uncertain, but her eyes were as bright as the day she had followed him to the Gardens.

He stomped on the vision that created in his head, and sank to his knees next to her. “I could not get past the Yellow to speak to you,” he said with a half-smile. “I thought surely, if I waited long enough, you would find your way here in your own time. It seems I wasn’t incorrect.” The Tairen meant only to gesture toward her, but as if it had a mind of his own, his hand reached for her instead. He tucked a stray strand of hair away from her face, his fingers lingering on her cheek a moment before he pulled them away to rest on his knee.

“It’s good that you appeared -or should I say disappeared?” He laughed softly, gesturing to the space in front of her where he knew her Illusion had to hang. “It’s good you are here. If- if you still want to leave, we can go as soon as you have something less conspicuous to wear.” He quirked his mouth, giving her an amused sidelong glance. “If I had known you could make yourself vanish, I might have sped my preparations up a little more,” he added.

“I only just learned myself,” Katrie responded, her voice unsteady. “I wanted to get away from Liza, and it happened.”

“Who wouldn’t want to get away from that woman?” Dax asked sourly, remembering his own encounters with the Aes Sedai. “Last time I saw her, she- threatened me. In a way. I had hoped to- to never feel the One Power again. I did not take any kinder to her treatment of me than she did to my words.” He shivered, then shrugged dismissively. “Soon neither of us will have to worry about her.”

He fished into his pocket and pulled his list out, peering at the writing there for a moment before looking up at her. “When do you want to go? Can you use that trick to disguise yourself, or should I plan a shift-raid on the laundry rooms?” His eyes twinkled.

[Jenn]

Katrie

“Yes!” The word blurted out past her lips before she could think to form an actual coherent answer to Dax, a strange look passing over her face at her outburst. Katrie cleared her throat awkwardly, keenly aware of the way those perfect blue eyes were watching her. “I mean, yes, I do still want to leave! As soon as we possibly can!” She felt herself flush, unable to ignore the way the flood of breathless hope mingled together with her awareness of the Tairen's presence... and it made her tingle from head to toe. Light, but he was so close...

The place on her cheek where his fingers had lingered pulsed hotter than the rest of her face, the pretty Cairhienin letting out a soundless shaking breath as Dax's attention fell down to his hands. Almond shaped sable orbs dropped to the piece of folded paper the Gaidin held between his fingers, a small bubble of curiosity floating up as she tried to catch a glimpse of the contents. She had never seen him read or write anything before...

Katrie glanced down at her own strewn mess of notes; some of the pages were crumpled, corners folded and wrinkled; others were filled with her rounded distinct lettering; other sheets were full of hastily scrawled words that were nearly indecipherable to her, and she had been the one that had written it down. Hiding weaves, some vague whisper reminded her. She acknowledged it absently, finding it difficult to think with the Tairen so very near and the place in her mind he should have been so very empty.

Dax's words swam in circles around her skull and as certain words finally registered, the Accepted felt herself bristle. “Liza threatened you?” Her voice came out an octave higher, outrage frosting her tone. “Because you told her something she didn't wish to hear?” He nodded wordlessly, those crystal clear blue eyes fixed on her again. Katrie wrinkled her nose. “I guess that explains why she's been in such a foul mood.” She held up her hand quickly as the tall Gaidin stiffened. “Oh, no, not like that... she's been insufferable, but she hasn't punished me again.”

She sighed, forcing herself to focus on the conversation. Dax was here. And he still wanted to leave with her. She didn't quite understand the reason why her heart was pounding so very loudly within the confines of her chest, or why that fact... was somehow able to ease away the tension in her neck and shoulders.

“I think... a shift-raid on the laundry rooms would be best,” the tall Accepted said slowly, a frown coming to her face. “I can make myself vanish, but even if I tied off the flows and let go of the Power, anyone else that has any experience with channeling would see the weave.” She made a noise of frustration, jabbing a finger down into a random page of notes. “I wish I knew more. Liza is supposed to be helping me figure out what I can do... I have a Talent for Illusion she says, but everything I know how to do is only because I figured it out on my own without her.”

She embraced saidar, pulling in just enough of the Source to demonstrate. “I can change my eye colour...” Thin threads of Air and Spirit and Earth spun out and abruptly dark brown orbs became jade green. “It's better with a mirror as I can't see where the weaves go exactly right now but...” she shrugged, releasing the weave before she spun out Air, Spirit, and Water, her eyes becoming the exact same shade of blue as his. Katrie grinned a little, pleased that it took her next to no effort. “I can change my hair colour as well, but none of that matters if any Aes Sedai can see what I'm doing.” She released her hold on the Power.

Katrie leaned back against the broken wall, her fingers twitching with the need to stretch out and touch him. She shoved her hands beneath her legs and pressed her weight down onto them. She had no right. “I feel like... Liza's actively getting in my way. Like she's trying to stop me? I don't know why though. She makes me teach her everything I do... and then she acts like I'm the one that has no clue when I don’t know how to answer her questions.”

She snorted. “Liza doesn't know about all these notes I made... when you saw me that time in my room...” her voice trailed off a little and she didn't have to elaborate – she could see it in his face that he knew what she was referring to. “I keep them hidden under my mattress. I wrote down everything I could find about channeling from the books in the Library. There's this one thing that's mentioned... 'hiding weaves'... I came here to try and figure out what that means... maybe it has something to do with Illusion too? But I needed somewhere to do it without that woman hovering over my shoulder.”

She couldn't stop talking. Light, what was the matter with her? She hadn't let Dax edge in a single word... The pretty Cairhienin bit down on her bottom lip, trying to use that physical gesture as a way to staunch her words that still wanted to slip past her mouth. Her breath caught as she found herself drowning in the blue depths of his eyes.

The Gaidin looked mildly uncomfortable, his hand going to rub the back of his neck. “What if 'hiding weaves' means exactly that? A way to hide the weave?”

The tall Accepted blinked. “I...” she left that half formed thought unfinished, her hands shooting out to rummage through the haphazardly strewn papers. She had never thought to consider a literal meaning before... Where was the Light-blasted page? She cast furtive glances over at Dax out of the corner of her eyes as she searched. He... seemed content enough to simply watch her? Katrie was overcome by a wave of self-conscious uncertainty and another blush worked its way up her neck, staining her already pink cheeks a dull red.

“What else should I be looking for to take with us?” Katrie found herself asking hesitantly, not wanting to come across as ignorant or stupid. She tensed as pain flared behind her eyes again, a furrow appearing between her brows. She looked down at the ground, her teeth gritting as she forced herself to continue on as normally as she could. “Coin is good, yes? I...” she exhaled harshly as her brain felt as if it was being squeezed by a sudden vice-like grip. Her hands clenched reflexively into the paper pile, coppery fingers crumpling several sheets. “My papa sends me letters. I haven't opened any of them, but they've got coins in them. I could take that with us...?”

[Sunny]

Dax

Dax could barely follow what Katrie said about channeling, and disliked admitting it even to himself. What would it be like to snap my fingers and change reality to my whim? During their brief time as bondmates he had seen Jaryd repair a fallen wall in the Gardens with a snap of his fingers, the boulders lifting and aligning themselves in moments. Ninya had brought fire out of nowhere to fight Trollocs, and Seth could heal even the gravest injuries. He had not put much thought into whether channelers had to work to perfect their skills, but the papers spread on the ground would seem to indicate some amount of required study, and Katrie seemed perplexed enough. Light, seeing blue eyes instead of brown had been startling.

Something she had said caught his attention. “What if 'hiding weaves' means exactly that? A way to hide the weave?” He asked. It seemed obvious to him, but she gave him a surprised look, then turned towards her papers as if it had not occurred to her. What kind of dialect were those books written in? he thought. Those papers gave him a reason to be grateful he could not channel, and his fingers, curling and uncurling on his knees, gave him another. While it would certainly be easier to be able to do things with the One Power, he prefered the solid limitations presented by his own body. At least with that he knew what he could do....and he could not accidentally level cities or create mountains.

“What else should I be looking for to take with us?” He saw Katrie flinch as she spoke, brows drawing together even as her eyes dropped to the ground and her jaw flexed. She spoke again, her voice seemed tight. “Coin is good, yes? I...” Dax sat forward, concerned, as the slender woman grasped at the papers before her, her face twisted in a taut mask. “My papa sends me letters. I haven't opened any of them, but they've got coins in them. I could take that with us...?” She tried to look at him, but she tensed at the last second, eyes still down.

The Tairen did not need the bond to see her pain. He leaned forward and began to extract her notes, carefully lifting one finger at a time until he could pull the papers free of her grasp. Her hands fell palm-up to her knees, fingers spread apart but curled into claws, stiff and trembling. He looked up at her, and she gave him a shaky smile. "I'm fine, Dax" she whispered, "just a headache." He thought she meant to soothe him, but the words merely confirmed to him that she had had others. What is that woman doing to her?

He placed his hands on either side of her face, ignoring the confused look she gave him. His palms exerted gentle pressure on her temples and his fingers worked their way into her hair, rolling in circles against her skull. She watched him curiously for a breath, and then her eyes fluttered shut, tension oozing from her body. He continued in silence, patiently massaging until he felt her begin to move again. He straightened and pulled his hands away. "Better?" he asked. She nodded slowly. When their eyes met, her cheeks darkened once more, and she quickly glanced away. That blank spot in his mind taunted him as he looked at her. I wanted this, he reminded himself sharply.

"If you have coin, bring it," he said, answering her question from earlier. "You won't be able to bring much out of Hama Valon, but we can get more supplies later. For now- a dress with riding skirts, undergarments, the...things you need to care for yourself?" He fanned his fingers out uncertainly. "Things you cannot bear to part with- so long as they are small." The black stone he carried in his pocket burned against his skin, a guilty reminder of Jaryd's words. "Make sure whatever you bring fits in a smallish sack." She made a noise- acceptance or annoyance, he wasn't certain.

Blue eyes dropped from the sky to study Katrie's face. "I will be at the Blue Falcon after breakfast every day," he said quietly, "Meet me there when you are able to get away from Liza, and we will- go." He brushed her cheek with the back of his knuckles, then pushed himself to his feet.

He waited until he was well out of sight before burying his face in his hands, struggling to collect himself. You can't have everything, Jemis’ voice taunted him. What do you really want, guttersnipe? Something exploded in his mind and Dax lashed out with his body at an enemy he could not see. His fist hit the splintered wooden frame of what had once been a door, and he cursed as pain flared up his arm. His bruised hand banished the voice….but nothing could remove the confusion he had seen in Katrie's eyes as he turned away.

[Jenn]

Katrie

She stared out after the spot that she had last seen Dax, the entirety of her being fixated on that one final glimpse of him before distance took him away. The world was vibrating in the strangest way, and it took her nearly a quarter of an hour to realize that it was because she was shaking, trembling violently from head to toe.

He touched me... Katrie thought, dazed and overwhelmed. Once, to push her hair back, the barest brush of his fingers against her cheek. A second time, as he gently pried her fingers away from her notes. A third, to ease away the ache in her head. A fourth, just before he had left... this one a lingering caress with the backs of his knuckles on that very same cheek. She blinked in surprise as she felt wetness drip down her cheeks. She made a soft noise, wiping hastily at her face before gulping down several breaths of air. Her chest hurt... and she couldn't explain why it was so hard to breathe...

The pretty Cairhienin forcefully dragged her gaze back down to the notes strewn every which way around her. Hiding weaves she reminded herself, trying to push through the roiling emotions she didn't fully understand. Her head felt strange, as if her skull was stretched too tightly. The pain had receded, but it had left its mark. Katrie sighed, staring out at the lines of her writing without actually seeing them. Maybe Dax was right... the Old Tongue was difficult to translate and she probably was overthinking it; now if she could only find the actual page with the information she had copied out, that would be so much better...

The tall Accepted reached out for the out of place flash of brown in the midst of the white pages of her notes. She unfolded the piece of paper carefully, her brows lifting in surprise. Dax... had made a list...? He had forgotten to take it with him. Katrie found her gaze tracing over the words the Gaidin had made. The writing was legible, the letters themselves formed correctly... if unevenly. Her expression softened as she ran a fingertip over the dried ink; she could see where he had hesitated, could see where he had made the most concentrated effort to spell everything correctly. A list... - her brows drew together again - of... things he's done for... us leaving? Her heart gave a peculiar bump and skipped a beat.

Her chest hurt again, but this time it was easier to draw breath. The Cairhienin Accepted set the brown paper against her lap, smoothing it out. She bit down on her bottom lip, her eyes going once again to search through her notes. She was not leaving this spot until she found the page she was looking for.
* * * Katrie remembered to keep her head up, her shoulders back, spine straight as she made her way towards the Blue Falcon. Her dark hair was meticulously pinned in place, done up in arcing coiled swirls. The streets were not busy yet, the morning sun just barely exposed against the horizon. There was nothing to say that Accepted could not find their breakfast outside of the Tower, and she walked as if she had not a care in the world.

A white cloak was draped over her arm, matching the pristine white of her banded dress. It was a rather brisk morning. Beneath the cloak, she clutched the small bag that held several sets of small clothes, two nondescript dresses divided for riding, some small jars of salve and medicine... hopefully not needed, but couldn't hurt to have... another cloak that was not white. The silver coins from her papa's letters sat inside of her belt pouch, the notes she had made seemingly a lifetime ago folded neatly into perfect squares, along with Dax's list. Two fat pouches of herbs took up most of the remaining space, leaving barely enough room for some other miscellaneous items that she had picked up here and there. Nothing of personal value – the only thing that mattered to her that way was the black stone that hung around her mama's neck and there was no way that the pretty Cairhienin was going to risk asking for that.

She was positive her heart was going to beat out of her chest at any moment. Before she knew it, she was standing outside the Blue Falcon. She was so very tempted to enter in the back way, but felt as if that would draw far more suspicion if she was noticed. Her hand clenched tighter around the small bag and she might have made a small noise as she entered into the common room of the Inn proper. No one spared her more than a cursory glance; Katrie could have simply sat down and cried in relief as she forced herself not to look at the familiar figure of Dax lounging indolently near an empty table nearby.

Katrie steeled herself and made a beeline for the nearest serving girl, the Accepted wearing a very convincing expression of dismay. Her free hand grasped the girl by the elbow, and she did not have to fake the urgency that thrummed in her voice. “I'm so sorry, but I think...” brown eyes widened emphatically, and she shook her head as if she was too mortified to continue.

The girl gasped, understanding immediately. “Oh, no!”

The pretty Cairhienin grimaced and nodded. “Is there anywhere I can go to...?”

“Yes! The bathhouse is free if you need it and the third room to the left is unoccupied if you need to duck into there quickly.”

“Thank you!” Katrie did not have to fake her sincerity either.

She made her way up the stairs as quickly as she could, moving into the correct room. She closed the door behind her, trusting that Dax would find his way to her. Cloak and bag were deposited on the bed, the Accepted wrinkling her nose at the story she had concocted. Of all the things she could have mentioned... a shake of her head. It didn't matter. It had worked.

She pulled the pins out of her hair, stuffing them into her belt pouch, before removing it entirely from around her waist. Now freed, dark hair fell just below her shoulders in fat curling ringlets. She embraced saidar, holding the smallest amount she possibly could. A quick look in the mirror to ensure that she placed the Illusion weave in the correct spots, and she spun out the necessary flows. Silvery grey eyes stared back at her. She inverted the weave before tying it off, releasing her hold on the Power. Dax had been correct. Hiding weaves indeed.

Slender copper hands pulled one of the dresses and the cloak of the non-white variety out. Deftly, she slipped out of banded white, needing a moment to remember how to maneuver herself into a dress that was not standard issue. The dark grey wool was nothing to gush over, but it fit remarkably well for something she had pilfered from the laundry rooms. Katrie was tying the last of the laces up the side of her bodice when the door opened, admitting Dax.

She answered his stare with a quirk of her lips, her relief nearly palpable, quickly folding the white cloak and the white banded dress into neat bundles and placing them back into the bag. She fastened the belt pouch around her waist, pulling off the Great Serpent Ring and shoving that as far down into the leather pocket as it would go. “We have five hours to get as far away from Hama Valon as possible.”

[Sunny]

Dax

Dax watched Katrie disappear up the stairs with hooded eyes, his hand idly turning his tankard against the table. I suppose the advantage to having been an infamous drunkard, Dax thought sourly, is that no one questions when I return to my old ways. Four days had dragged interminably while he waited for the Accepted to appear, and yet in all that time, he had not touched his drink. It burned a little that others assumed he had simply fallen back to his old habits, and yet- he would soon be leaving it all behind.

Now he waited, counting the moments slowly in his head. If he left too soon, someone would notice. They might notice anyway -he had certainly spent enough time at the establishment to be recognized by everyone there- but he hoped that by biding his time, he could at least pull attention away from Katrie. Finally he stood and put two coins on the table, looking up to meet the innkeeper’s eyes. “I will be in my room alone,” he said, meeting Bertrard’s eyes. “No need to disturb me for lunch.” The man raised both eyebrows, but shrugged acceptance. He understood the meaning behind Dax’s words.

With a grin over his shoulder, the Gaidin strode to the door and up the stairs. When he arrived at the room the maid had indicated, he hesitated outside the door before finally pushing it open and stepping inside. He closed the door softly behind him, his eyes sweeping over Katrie in shock.

I have never seen her in anything but that white dress, he thought distractedly. The dress she had chosen fit her...very well. He bit the inside of his lip, hard, and forced himself to look at her face. The biggest shock lay there. Gray eyes that should have been brown stared back at him, and she quirked her lips at his expression. Amusement? Annoyance? Light, he hated that he did not know. She had even changed her hair, he realized- her normal waves had been teased into much fuller curls. Beautiful, and yet… He wished he could have seen her before she made those changes.

“We have five hours to get as far away from Hama Valon as possible,” she commented as she packed her things into a bag he had not seen when she arrived. As he watched, she removed the gold ring from her hand and tucked it into her belt purse without a second of hesitation. That simple, casual action took his breath away. She really intends to leave it all behind. It boggled his mind, and at the same time, something inside him unfurled and relaxed.

“Then we shall have to make the most of it,” he told her with a broad smile. He reached up, and pulled the pin at his throat free, swinging the folds of fancloth free of his shoulders, and folding it neatly. He looked up, and she opened her sack without a word. As he tucked the cloak away, he caught a look in her eye...shock, awe, guilt…and then incredible joy. She didn’t think I intended to leave.

He pulled the sack closed, and slung it over his shoulder, reaching for her hand. “I have horses and supplies at another stable,” he said. “I didn’t want to make it too easy to trace us, but it does mean we need to walk a little way.” With Katrie’s fingers wrapped in his, he lead the way out the back door. On the outside he remained a warrior. On the inside, he fought a confusing conflict of excitement and grief. Freedom! One part of his mind cried exultantly, while on the other, silent emptiness loomed.

-

Dax turned in the saddle to look back along the road they followed. The Grey Tower rose against the sky in the distance, seeming both enormous and very small. They had escaped Hama Valon with remarkable ease. The small changes to Katrie’s appearance had even allowed them to walk past a woman Dax recognized as a Green with nary a comment. Knowing a little of the penalty extracted from runaways, it had been nerve-wracking to maintain their deliberate pace as they rode away from Hama Valon after that. Every second he had expected to hear hoofbeats coming up behind, had held himself in the ko’di in readiness for a fight. And yet….no alarm had sounded.

Movement caught the Tairen’s eye, and he looked at Katrie. Whatever she had done to her eyes had faded, leaving them the same warm brown he had always known, staring back at Hama Valon with a distant expression. Abruptly her brows drew together and she looked away. As she turned to face forward again, her gaze caught on his.

She gave him a questioning look and he smiled, blue eyes lighting up. “We made it,” he said with a laugh, gesturing to the road before them. “How does it feel to be free, kitten?” The words reminded him of the place she had once occupied, but the gleeful smile she gave him soothed his uncertainty.

[Jenn]

Katrie

Even though she had spent four days fretting and preparing, Katrie hadn't actually expected Dax to go with her. She hoped... oh Light, she had hoped... but actually following through with it? It was insanity. Everything he had worked for... put aside. To... what? Keep a runaway Accepted company? Why? If she was caught... if he was caught with her, nothing under the Light would keep them from burning in the Tower's wrath.

But here they were... out of Hama Valon. On horses he had gotten them. Some small part of her had... braced for him not being there at the Blue Falcon. But he had been. Oh Dax, what are you doing? she wanted to ask. Why are you doing it? But she couldn't find anywhere near the courage those two questions required and quailed away from them instead. So she found other things to occupy her thoughts.

Katrie felt the exact moment her Illusion weave dissipated, a puff of sensation passing across her nose. She blinked eyes that were brown again and twisted around in the saddle to look behind them. As ever, the Grey Tower was a fixed point against the horizon, reminding her that while they had left the city proper, they were still not far enough away yet. Would they ever be far enough? Maybe once she couldn't see the Tower anymore...

She bit down on her bottom lip, the reality of it all suddenly sinking in. She was... out here in the open and not in there behind glass and walls. And she felt... relief. Anxiety. A slight pang of... something else? She was leaving her mama behind. Jaryd. Rav, even though he ignored her now. Everything she had worked for, up until this point. Everything even remotely familiar. She should have felt more... sadness... shouldn't she? Sorrow? But she didn't. Not even a little. There was no sadness... no sorrow. Fear? Yes... but... not over leaving. Brown eyes followed the lines of the Tower, a furrow appearing between her brows. Goodbye. Who was she wishing farewell to? Did it even matter?

The tall Cairhienin pulled her attention away, turning to face what was ahead of her. As she did, she caught Dax's gaze on her. Something about the expression on his face caused her to answer with her own questioning look. The smile that came to his face was genuine, warming the mesmerizing depths of perfectly blue eyes.

“We made it.” A laugh accompanied his words. “How does it feel to be free, kitten?”

Katrie grinned in response, the anxiety fading away. “It feels...” She had to pause, thinking, her gesture encompassing everything around them. She felt the unfamiliar weight of the ringlets her hair was arranged in bouncing around her shoulders. Her nose wrinkled and her smile became sheepish. “It feels good. Everything sounds so different.”

“How so?” The Tairen cocked his head, nudging his horse closer.

Her cheeks heated and turned a delicate shade of pink and she glanced off to the side of the road. “The sounds... are less muffled? Clearer. And they don't echo back the way they do under a roof and walls. I know it sounds silly and –”

“No,” he interrupted her. “It doesn't.”

Sable orbs shot back to blue. The look she gave him was grateful, and it was Dax's turn to look away.

He cleared his throat and Katrie could feel the edge of the fear returning. “We will have to keep going for some time yet, kitten. But after night falls, I promise we will rest then.”
* * * Being out in the rain was not as terrible as the stories made it out to be.

It had started some time after their third day on the road. For the fifth time in less than an hour, Katrie tilted her head back to try and catch a fat droplet of water that dripped off a tree overhead. She let out a crow of triumph as it splattered against her tongue, her teeth flashing into view as she gave Dax a triumphant look.

“That's one!” she announced happily.

The tall Tairen chuckled in response, his hair wet and sticking to his forehead. Katrie leaned over the saddle, stretching out and smoothing it away from his forehead. Despite the rain, his skin was warm against her fingertips. She pulled away just as quickly, cheeks red, eyes going up to search for the next cluster of leaves that would drip rain water in the way she wanted.
* * * The drizzle was steady, turning what should have been dry meadows and fields into mud, mud, and more mud. She could still hear it drumming against the closed window. It was really quite amazing that it had rained unabated for what seemed like an Age. One of the silver coins she had brought with her had been used to pay for the Inn room she stood in, basking by the fire that flickered merrily in the hearth set into the wall.

Katrie tried to run her hands through her hair, wincing at the tangles. Bare feet curled against the smooth floorboards, the cotton shift she wore reflecting warm hues of red and orange.

Dax was still down in the common room, but they and the horses were dry at last. Wet clothes covered every inch of usable space, draped over chairs, tables, and open closet doors to hopefully dry out by the time they had to leave. The Tairen had explained that it was important – otherwise, everything would start to stink of mildew. She didn't know what that was exactly, but he had assured her that it was not pleasant.

She was hungry, but he had promised to bring her up some food. As expected, the knock came, though... why was Dax knocking anyway? Katrie went to open the door, the smile on her lips fading as she came face to face with two pairs of eyes in faces she did not recognize. A hand was clapped over her mouth and rough fingers yanked her out into the hallway. She fumbled for saidar, the sweetness dodging her grasp as she was bodily lifted and swung around, her foot catching against the door.

Dax!! DAX!!! But he could not hear her. No concern. No answering surge of recognition. No churning storm of lightning. No rage twining together with her own terror and panic, demanding to be released. The place in her mind where he used to be was flat and empty. And it stayed flat and empty. She tried to find the Source again. Katrie began to kick and scream, but behind hands and arms that held her in place, all that emerged was a muffled groan of enraged sound.

[Sunny]

Dax

After days straight of mud, wet clothes, and struggling to keep a fire going even with Katrie’s assistance, Dax welcomed the warmth of the Horse Head tavern. Staying at an inn so close to Hama Valon carried risks, and yet- he had seen Katrie surreptitiously rubbing at her arms earlier in the afternoon. When the tavern’s light appeared on the side of the road that memory had led him to its door despite his misgivings.

Now he sat in a corner facing the main entrance, his chair tipped back against the wall and his feet on the table, a mug of ale secure in his left hand and his right draped conveniently near his sword. He watched and listened quietly, alert for any sign of pursuit. The local farmers were of little import, but the travelers to and from the Grey Tower he watched intently from beneath hooded eyes. So far, he had heard no mention of a runaway Accepted, and he could not decide whether that concerned or pleased him.

The Gaidin took a drink from the mug, grimacing at the taste. He had certainly had worse, but he did not particularly relish the expression on Katrie’s face when she smelled it. I am only drinking to fit in. He did not like the defensive edge that came with the thought. When he looked up from his thoughts, he realized three men had entered the common room, shaking rain out of their hair as they spoke to the innkeeper. To his consternation, he knew all three of them. What are they doing here?

He remained carefully still, his mind automatically slipping into the emptiness of the ko’di as he watched coins pass from Mando Tanere to the innkeeper’s hand. The twin shadows of Devin and Taeric al’Nara surveyed the room without much initial interest. He saw their eyes pass over him, then snap back, saw Devin touch Mando’s shoulder. The pale man turned, and his eyebrows went up in curiosity. As surprised to see me as I am to see them, Dax thought, taking a drink.

After finishing their business the three mercenaries sauntered over. “Torellion,” Mando said, dark eyes giving him an appraising once over. “You’re looking much better than the last time I saw you.”

Tairen lips curled into an amused smile and the Gaidin dropped his feet to the floor. “Anything’s better than a jail cell in Lugard,” he said with a cheerful shrug, ignoring the twins. He had done his share of deeds he would prefer not to think on, and the worst had been in their undesirable company. “Wouldn’t you say?” Mando laughed. He and Dax had shared that cell, and parted ways the next morning on good terms. He did not take pleasure in pain as the Andorans did.

“I see that moving up in the world hasn’t stopped your quest to drink the Aryth Ocean, street rat,” Taeric commented, studying his fingernails. Devin made a subtle, but rude, gesture, and Dax clenched his jaw against the angry retort that rose to his lips.

Mando lifted his hand. “Upstairs,” the Ghealdanin said in a pejorative tone, turning to look at them with eyebrow cocked. The twins glanced at each other, then turned as one and walked to the door that led to the stairs. Why are they together? Significant money had to be involved to pull that particular trio this far off the main trade routes.

Mando turned back, and after a moment Dax gestured for him to sit. The dark-haired man complied. “What brings you to this neck of the woods, friend?” Mando asked, settling back in his chair. Dark eyes swept over Dax, noting well-toned body and clearly high quality weaponry. His gaze became calculating. “Are you in the market for work?”

“An unfortunate run in with a Whitecloak led to an equally unfortunate incident with the Grey Tower,” Dax said shortly. Mando made an inquiring sound, and Dax shrugged, waving his fingers dismissively. “Nothing to be concerned about.” In truth, Mando had many reasons to be concerned about the time Dax had spent at the Grey Tower. The last time they had worked together, Mando had been the far superior swordsman. No longer. The Tairen took a sip of the foul beer, then gave his new companion a direct look. “What kind of work?”

Mando grimaced, but before he could respond the serving maid appeared with his drink. He took it and then took a long pull from the mug before wiping his mouth with his sleeve. “Dirty business,” the Ghealdenin man said, his gaze flicking towards the stairs. “We’re picking up some goods for safe delivery tonight. We could use extra hands on the journey,” he said, laying one finger along the side of his nose.

Not merchandise. A person. A person important enough to send three men after. Dax looked down at his mug, feeling in his mind for Katrie. Only growing unease and silent emptiness responded to his effort. Of the people he had seen so far that evening, none seemed a likely target. “How long of a trip?” He asked, thankful for the ko’di that kept his voice even and casual. “Are the goods to be delivered undamaged?” Light, what if they are after Katrie? The idea of the twins touching her made his stomach turn. His feet shifted, and he carefully pushed his mug to the side, each movement precise and discrete.

A lecherous smile crossed Mando’s face, but he sighed. “Undamaged,” he said in a regretful tone. “Pity, it’s a pretty little package from the image our employer showed us. We’re to take it to Cairhien.” He reached for his mug, “Interested? My lord has made it clear he will spare no expense to get what is his back where it belongs.”

Katrie. Certainty settled around him. The way she had described Lord Fenton fit perfectly with Mando’s words. A shadow crept over Dax’s thoughts, dark fingers creeping along the edge of his vision as he met the Ghealdanin’s eyes. Devin and Taeric would not be kind. Katrie! His mind scrambled for her, and found nothing but black rage that rose up to embrace him like an old lover.

The Gaidin’s arm shot out, his hand wrapping around the other man’s head and yanking it down with all his strength. Mando emitted a surprised grunt, beer spilled, and the solid thunk of the mercenary’s skull rebounding off oak silenced the common room. Mando caught the edge of the table and pushed away, shaking his head and cursing.

Dax shoved his chair back and stood. His fingers wrapped into Mando’s clothes, lifting him out of his chair and shoving him against the wall in one smooth movement. A gray-clad forearm pressed against the mercenary’s throat, and cold blue eyes looked at his quarry as if he had just found a curious insect. “Dax, what in the bloody-” Mando heaved against the wall, but Dax simply leaned his weight on his arm, watching red suffuse that pale face.

“You took the wrong job, friend,” Dax said, his voice oddly calm. His free hand drove first into the man’s abdomen and then his temple, his other arm yanking his target into the blow. The mercenary’s head lolled forward and he fell, sprawling like a rag doll at the Tairen’s feet.

Dax turned and a path to the stairs cleared immediately, women and men alike pulling away from him as he strode between them. He disregarded them entirely, his attention fixated on the room where he had so foolishly left Katrie unguarded. So concerned about the Grey Tower, I forgot about the other people who might be interested, he thought angrily. His mind shifted to what the Andoran twins might have done while he bandied words with Mando, and he flinched. Light, Katrie!

The door to their room hung open, as did the door to the backstairs at the opposite end of the hall. Dax cursed and broke into a run, taking the stairs three at a time. He swung out the side door into the mud and rain, and stopped short.

A few spans away, Devin had Katrie pinned against him. She held her arm awkwardly and her dusky face was streaked with tears of rage or pain, but she fought her captors with a single-minded intensity that took his breath away. Taeric’s eye had a red mark across it, and Devin wore the too-still expression of someone fighting pain. Despite their injuries, the two clearly had no intention of stopping until they had the slender woman on the horse tied to the fence nearby.

They hurt her. The shadows in his mind taunted him, wrapped around him and drew his conscious mind away. A memory of the glory he had once felt beyond that darkness snaked through him, and he shuddered. They hurt Katrie. He dropped into Cat Crosses the Courtyard, and walked toward them, fists curled before him.

Taeric gave him a disdainful look, which quickly shifted to shock, and then panic as Dax showed no sign of slowing. The Tairen feinted at Taeric’s face with his fist, then ducked and spun past the man’s block, his knee lifting and driving into the Andoran’s gut. Taeric doubled forward with a surprised yelp of pain, and Dax’s hand shot out, wrapping into the man’s rough wool coat to keep him from falling. The Gaidin hauled him up, his hands shifting to wrap around either side of the younger man’s head. Cold blue eyes met Taeric’s suddenly frightened brown for a single moment before Dax’s arms tensed and his hands twisted in opposite directions. The snap of bones cracking coursed up his arms, and the Andoran went limp.

Dax pushed him away with no care for how the dead man landed, and turned to face Devin. His last opponent had at least had enough sense to throw Katrie to the side and draw his sword. “That won’t do you any good,” Dax commented coldly.

[Jenn]

Katrie

Katrie dug her heels in stubbornly, but she was dragged across the smooth planks as effortlessly as if she was a mewling babe by the two men that looked as if they hauled ox carts for a living - without the oxen. The soles of her feet slid across the polished wood and she let out another gurgle of sound, her foot flexing as she managed to press the very tip of her toe against an uneven section of the floor. She kicked up ineffectually, but it was enough to send one of the men stumbling to the side and into the wall. Her crow of triumph was cut short by arms locking around her ribs.

“Bloody...” A hand clamped down on the tender spot just above her knee, rough fingers pushing up the thin material of the shift she wore as two fingers pried open her mouth and dug into the gumline above her front teeth.

A sharp sound exploded from her throat and sable eyes glared daggers into the flat dun that lingered on her face. She flailed her arms against the vice-like grip that pinned her arms to her side.

“No, flaming fool.” A brutal cuff followed the sharp words, delivered to the side of the leering man's head. “Undamaged.” Katrie glanced back and forth between them, her brows lifting. They looked the same. Brothers, certainly... twins? The one that had issued the reprimand had a tiny crescent shaped scar just below his left eye.

The sullen one bared his teeth at her before removing the hand on her thigh, thick fingers withdrawing to cover her lips again.

The one holding on to her spared her a meaningful glance, shaking her hard enough so that her head snapped back, then forward. “You. Behave.”

The pretty Cairhienin twisted as best she could in the inexorable grip, ears ringing. She flexed her jaw, trying to find someplace she could bite, but there was nothing. The taste of metallic copper flooded her mouth. She pulled in air frantically through her nose, her thoughts spinning round and round inside of her head. They were moving again, the two men making sure to keep her dangling helplessly between them. Katrie growled, the sound echoing in her chest. They laughed at her!

They were approaching the stairs that would lead out the back way. No, no, no... if they got her outside... Instinctively, she reached again for the place in her mind that Dax should have been, her eyes rolling back into her head when she did not sense him. She thrashed in blind panic, leaning back as far as she could. Still, the brothers pulled her forward. Light, Light, Light! She had to do something... anything!

Stupid, stupid girl.

Shut up!! she thought savagely, her chest rising and falling.

The Accepted couldn't find the calm she needed, so she made her own like she had done once before in the gardens, when she had passed her bond to Jaryd so that the Asha'man might find a way to free the Gaidin. Strangely enough, she felt tears forming, salt and moisture catching in the long, luscious fringe of dark lashes. She wanted Dax... Light she wanted Dax... but he wasn’t there. The curiously serene bubble wobbled but did not break. It expanded just enough so that she could touch saidar.

It was not much, not what she could normally hold, but it was something. The world sharpened, her senses jumping, the taste of blood in her mouth absolutely vile. She waited for the exact moment the two half-oxen stepped down onto the first step. Katrie spun out a strand of Air roughly the width of two fingers, hanging it over in the space just above the second step. She felt herself smile as booted feet collided with the Power wrought tripping hazard.

Their startled cries were as sweet music and she went limp, effectively turning herself into deadweight as the three of them pitched headlong down the stairs. Thick forearms locked around her again, and she felt herself being pulled backwards, only to flip upside down, then right side up again. The sickening squish of flesh colliding with angled steps made her queasy, but that was a distant concern as elbows, knees, ribs, bones banged and tumbled over one another. Katrie came to a painful stop on top of one of the brothers, dazed, her arm laying awkwardly between two of the bottom-most steps. A grunt of sound came before a booted foot came stomping down on that arm.

It took a full heartbeat to register.

The pretty face contorted. Black spots exploded in front of her eyes. Her entire body went rigid and her scream was cut off abruptly, muffled hastily by a hand clamping around her mouth.

A roar sounded beneath her and the brother with the crescent scar beneath his eye moved her off him before grabbing his twin's face and slamming it into the banister. Katrie sank to her knees, heedless of whatever else was going on around her. “Undamaged, you bloody fool!” The hand was jerked away from her face and her wail filled the narrow corridor, reverberating around them. She curled in on herself, pushing her face into the hard surface of the stair nearest to her.

They argued for a time, harsh angry voices soaring back and forth over her head. She didn’t care, the taste of salt coating her lips and tongue as she rocked back and forth on her knees.

“Up.” was all the warning she had before she was bodily removed from the floor. It was the brother with the scar. Katrie was literally dragged behind him, fingers digging into her shoulder, every movement causing agony and fire to sear up her arm. The black spots had not faded, and as she stood, a wave of nausea rolled over her. Her right one arm... the one she used to write... her mind spun and she could barely remember how to walk. She hunched her shoulders, keeping her injured arm close to her body. It didn't want to work... and it looked... crooked. Her stomach turned and she stumbled, tears blurring her vision.

The floor beneath her feet changed. It was... wet and her toes curled in protest as mud squelched up between them. She could smell the rain. The world swam and she couldn’t make out anything in the sudden darkness. Her steps flagged and Katrie just wanted to stop and lay down. She leaned back, not wanting to move... not wanting to go... resenting the hand biting into her shoulder that kept shoving and prodding her forward.

Again, she dug in her heels, relying purely on stubborn instinct as her mind refused to work. There was mud to help her this time, the slimy substance adhering and sucking down against the soles of her feet. She couldn’t actually remember why she didn’t want to go, but that feeling of palpable dread that raked icy fingers over her stomach overrode everything else but the torture shooting up her arm. Her foggy gaze fell on a double wrapped belt. Coin pouch. Dagger. Her head canted to the side ever-so-slightly.

Why hadn’t she noticed that before?

Katrie wobbled, her good hand reaching out for the small hilt. Something... was happening. She could hear it, the sound of... something breaking?... right behind her. Just as her fingers closed around the cool metal, she felt a sharp shove against the small of her back. She pitched forward, reflexively reaching out to break her fall with her free hand. She had not the breath to scream as the bones in her arm ground together, the tall Cairhienin convulsing, then going limp, as she landed in a puddle.

“That won’t do you any good.”

Dax!

Heat suffused her at the sound of his voice. She wanted to turn around again, but it took everything she had to simply keep herself from howling out her pain. Long moments passed, each second feeling as long as an eternity. She managed somehow to roll herself onto her back, sable orbs trying to ignore the way her arm looked. Her left hand still gripped the dagger and her heart leapt up into her throat as she finally caught sight of Dax, squared off with the brother that bore the crescent scar.

The half-oxen man was inching further and further away from the Gaidin. Katrie stared, dazed, at the back of the calf that showed through a rip on the man's trousers. She wasn't sure exactly how, but she lunged forward, her body fueled by sheer agony and desperate fear. She buried the short blade into the curve of muscle that connected thigh to foot and nearly blacked out from the effort. The world grew dim and started to spin, faster and faster, and she didn’t fight it as she slumped over sideways.

[Sunny]

Dax

Devin knew something had changed. Dax could see the realization in the mercenary’s wary eyes, sense it in the care with which the Andoran shifted his feet and held his sword. The last time the two had crossed blades it had been for the sport of an Altaran lordling, and Devin had beaten the Tairen to a pulp, laughing at his humiliation before the nobleman’s household. How the tables have turned, Dax thought. Devin’s eyes shifted to the body of his brother and he scowled, tensing to strike.

Wrapped in the ko’di, Dax walked forward as if the Andoran did not hold four feet of folded steel in his hands, as if his own blade did not rest at ease within its sheath at his hip. Devin swung, and the Tairen’s body wove to the side, ducking past the gleaming arc of metal. The Andoran cursed, stepping back, sword whirling and slashing in the opposite direction. Time slowed within the emptiness of the Void, and the Gaidin stepped back, allowing the sharp steel to pass by his face so close he felt his hair stir.

Blue eyes watched his opponent intently as they moved through the steps of their deadly dance. Dax could tell silence bothered the mercenary, as did the sight of his brother’s still form. He stepped within the Andoran’s guard, a fist connecting with the man’s shoulder in one such moment of hesitation. Devin staggered back, cursing. His blade flickered out, however, the keen edge catching on Dax's arm. The Gaidin flinched, but the Void kept the pain away and his mind clear.

A mud-smeared figure in white moved behind the fighter, and Dax caught the glint of metal. Devin howled, dropping his weapon as he turned to look at that unexpected source of pain. The slender woman slumped back to the ground, eyes fluttering shut, the dagger she held falling from limp fingers. “Katrie!” The startled exclamation slipping from Dax’s lips before he could stop himself. Devin looked back at him, grinning savagely as he lifted his damaged leg. Had his foot met its target, the dusky-skinned Accepted’s face would have been crushed beneath his boot.

Dax leaned down, fingers closing around the hilt of Devin’s sword with precise clarity. The blade whipped in a tight circle as his wrist rotated, then thrust home as if it had hours, not seconds, to meet its mark. There was no need to strike again; the scruffy warrior toppled, his hands wrapping around the blade in shock. Never turn your back on the enemy, Dax thought dismissively, his attention already shifting to the woman on the ground.

-

Mother Greta was a stout woman with a no-nonsense expression, but gentle hands. She took one look at Taeric and Devin lying side by side, and shook her head disapprovingly before her attention turned to Mando and Katrie. She tended the warrior first, ignoring Dax’s irritated growl. “Unless you want three lives weighing your soul today, you will be silent,” she said sharply, her fingers pressing against the man’s temples.

Dax cradled Katrie’s still form against his chest, careful not to jostle the arm that sat at an odd angle to her body. She weighed so little, and his heart hammered against the spot where her head rested against his chest. None of this would have happened if I could feel you, he thought, staring down at her, struggling to ignore that empty place in his head where he should have been able to feel her pain.

The healer busied herself preparing a poultice, which she applied to the fallen man’s head while giving Dax a disapproving look. He raised his eyebrows, and she glared at him, dark eyes sharp as daggers. “There are better ways to solve problems than killing people,” she commented tartly.

“They were bloody paid to abduct my- my traveling companion,” Dax said, stumbling over what to call Katrie even as he struggled to verbalize his anger. What could he call her? “They hurt her! I know their kind- words would not have stopped them.” His hands tightened against the Cairhienin woman’s body, and the older woman gave him a searching look.

“Men.” Mother Greta looked at the ceiling and shook her head. They were in the Horse Head’s only private dining room, the table pushed to the side to accommodate the three men on the floor. “Always thinking with the wrong parts of themselves.” The Tairen looked at her uncertainly, a flush that began at his toes slowly working its way up his body.

The older woman pushed herself to her feet and gestured for Dax to lay Katrie on the table. The Gaidin skirted the men on the floor and carefully did as instructed. Mother Greta tucked a folded towel beneath the Accepted’s head, and began to look her over, making a tut, tut sound as she reached the slender arm. “This is broken,” she said calmly. “I will need to set it before I can Heal it.”

Dax stiffened as he stared at her, his thoughts abruptly coming to a crashing halt. “You-”

“I could not channel enough to take the test,” the woman said steadily, “but I have some small Talent for Healing that I use to good purpose here, with the blessings of the Grey Tower. The brute over there can rest a while, but you and your lady will want to be on the road as soon as may be to avoid….unfortunate questions from the city by the lake. Yes?” She gave him an intent look. She knows? Shock coursed through him. “Close your mouth, Gaidin, you will catch a fly.” Click.

The woman returned to examining Katrie, finally returning to her arm. “This is going to hurt,” she said, meeting Dax’s eyes. The Gaidin nodded understanding, struggling to keep his face still. Greta showed him where to put his hands to keep the Accepted from moving too much, then turned away. Katrie stirred, staring up at him for a moment, pain glazing her brown eyes. He smiled down at her, brushing her hair out of her face with gentle fingers. She gave him a dazed look, then her eyes fluttered shut again.

The healer turned back; she held a hand-length leather-wrapped stick in her hands. Dax stared at that stick in horror as reality abruptly shifted sideways. Sobbing, horrible fear, a shriek, the impact as his tiny body came in contact with unforgiving hands. “What are you doing here?” A door rebounding in its frame, silence, the feel of his hands slamming against the wood… He pulled himself back with a gasp, mind reeling. It’s just a broken arm. She will heal. It’s just a broken arm...

“Hold her still,” Mother Greta said perfunctorily. Dax shifted his grip and the woman’s hands tugged sharply at Katrie’s arm.

Her scream around the stick between her teeth pierced his soul. He growled curses and words of comfort by turn, his gaze locked on hers as he held her immobile against the table. Mother Greta splinted and bandaged the arm with business-like speed, then disappeared. Dax relaxed his grip, and instead began to stroke Katrie’s hair, fingers gentle. He had just begun to wonder where the gray-haired healer had gone when she returned bearing a cup of something that smelled both wholesome and foul. “For the pain,“ she said simply. “Drink up, pretty one.”