"Horial?" the young priest asked, startling the sergeant out of his admonition.

The mercenary looked down, surprised. "Do I know you?"

The Abreeant shook his head. "No, but I'm in contact with someone who knows you, and she's very glad to see you. You know Hetta Matrell?"

Horial nearly choked, then he sank down and pressed his finger against his mouth, signaling for the younger man to speak quietly. "Gods and demons, boy! How in the Nine Hells do you know Hetta Matrell?" he asked in a near-whisper.

The young man might have smiled, though it was hard for Horial to be sure in the dim light. "That's a very long story, but suffice it to say that we're on the same side tonight."

Horial's eyes narrowed. "How do I know you're speaking straight with me?" he demanded.

The Abreeant didn't reply for a long moment, and he said, "Hetta tells me to remind you of all the times she had to swat your fanny for crushing her hoplilies when you, Adyan, and Vambran would use her garden wall as a shortcut."

Horial stood there for a long moment, stunned. No one but Hetta, Adyan, and Vambran himself would have remembered something from his childhood.

He threw his head back then and just laughed, and Adyan was chortling too, right beside him. He tried to keep his laughter quiet, and for the most part he succeeded, but the whole situation was too comical for him to control his mirth. Finally, wiping a tear from his cheek, Horial caught his breath. "You sold me," he said, still chuckling. "Where is darling Hetta?"

At that question, the Abreeant seemed to wilt slightly. He held out his hand, offering something to Horial. The sergeant caught a glint of red, and he reached out and clutched at a jeweled ring.

Well, you're a fine sight, Horial Rohden. Where is Vambran?

Horial nearly dropped the ring. Grandmother Hetta? he asked, unsure of where the voice was coming from. Are you at House Matrell? Vambran said you were in trouble.

Yes, trouble is the short way to sum it up, Hetta's voice replied. And no, I'm not at the house. I'm in here. Now where's Vambran?

Horial stared at the ring in the moonlight, aghast. He is still in Reth, trying to save the rest of the men, the sergeant answered. He sent us back to help Emriana after she called to him.

Well, good, Hetta said, and relief radiated from the disembodied voice. Pilos and Quill need your help. There's too much to explain right now, but Emriana and Xaphira are in trouble. We all have to get out of the Generon, and quickly, before Junce and the palace guards catch us. Can you help them?

Horial nodded, then thought, That's why Vambran sent us back here, Grandmother Hetta. Just tell us what you need.

Pilos will explain it all to you. For now, just pass me back to him. Oh, and Horial?

Yes?

Thank you for coming. You and Adyan are both good men, and Vambran is lucky to have you as friends.

Horial grinned as he handed the ring back to the young priest. "All right," he said, turning to look at everyone in turn. "Hetta says we've got to get out of here. Pilos?" he said, looking at the priest. When the Abreeant nodded, Horial said, "Tonight we're at your disposal." He made quick introductions and they set out, and he noted that the first pink light of morning was beginning to brighten the eastern sky. Their intentions were to proceed as before, strolling toward the front gates and out as though they didn't have a care in the world.

That plan lasted for perhaps ten paces before someone began to shout from a distance.

Horial spun around to see a contingent of Generon guards running toward them. When he turned back, a second collection of soldiers was assuming a formation to block the way out.

"I guess they know we're here," the sergeant said.

They ran.

The sun was well above the horizon when Arbeenok woke Vambran. The lieutenant felt refreshed and immediately got to his feet, but Elenthia groaned and coughed. Arbeenok frowned and pulled the mercenary aside. "She is too weak to go with us," he said. "My magic is holding, but the disease has still taken most of her strength."

Vambran nodded. "Then we take her to her father before we depart," he said.

Arbeenok shook his head. "No. She is a carrier. She will infect those around her, even though she is not growing sicker. Do you see?"

Vambran rocked back on his heels, then, understanding at last. He looked over at Elenthia, who was staring at both of them as they whispered together, shifting her gaze back and forth, worried. She knew they were speaking of her. "We'll find you a safe place," the mercenary said.

Elenthia's eyes widened in fear. "You're not going to leave me here, are you?" she asked, a nervous edge to her voice. She didn't really want the answer to her question. "You can't leave me here!" The exertion brought on a coughing fit, and she doubled up in pain.

Vambran dropped down beside her and held her, then held a water skin to her mouth, waiting for her to drink when she was able. Finally, after she had caught her breath, he said, "You'll be all right. You're strong. If you don't let all the scheming society folk get the best of you, you won't let this beat you, either." He smiled at her kindly. Inside, he was in agony. How can I do this to her? I left my men behind, too.

Elenthia understood his little jest, though, and a faint smile played across her face. "You always know just the right thing to say to a girl," she said. Then her face turned a bit stony. "Even if you do cavort with druid women," she said, giving the lieutenant a ferocious glare.

Vambran started at her comment, then glanced up at Arbeenok, who was looking on as though he had no idea what the discussion was about. When Vambran looked back at Elenthia, he could see the faintest of smiles curling at the corners of her mouth. He rolled his eyes at her and gave her a reassuring pat, then looked at Arbeenok. "Is there anything else you need to do?" he asked, not wanting to delay the departure any more than necessary.

The druid seemed to consider, then nodded. "We should both have another dose of my powder," he said, producing two more earthen urns like the one he had administered to the lieutenant the previous evening. "We do not want to become sick before we find a cure," he added. After the druid had sprinkled the contents on both of them, they were ready.

"Then let's get moving," Vambran said, rising. "The sooner we get started, the sooner we'll be back." They left plenty of provisions with Elenthia-food and water they had procured from the pantry. She sat in a chair and watched them go, a brave smile on her face. At the door, Vambran turned to look back at her one last time, raising his hand in farewell. "Rest," he said, not knowing what else he could say.

"Come back," she said, her voice soft but earnest.

He only nodded then turned away.

Outside the room, beyond the woman's hearing, Vambran stopped and hung his head. "I can't believe I just left her there," he said, feeling the burden of failure wash over him. "Waukeen forgive me."

"It is the right choice," Arbeenok said, patting him on the shoulder. "It's her best chance of surviving."

Vambran sighed. "I feel like I'm leaving everyone to their deaths, lately." Then he squared his shoulders, took a deep breath, and said, "Let's do this thing." And he walked out of the house, through the garden, and out into the street.

Arbeenok was close behind.

The streets of Reth were littered with the dead. Many were the destroyed remains of those unfortunates who had died, animated, and died again, but a small few had simply perished by other means, somehow avoiding the terrible affliction that would have turned them to unlife.