"Now, what?" Grinsa demanded.

"It doesn't matter. What is it you want to discuss with me?"

"This!" Grinsa said. "We came to you to talk about the Mettai. There are people saying that they can't be trusted, that their spell hasn't done anything to protect us, and that they're the enemy."

Q'Daer didn't look at him, and for a moment Grinsa thought he'd refuse to talk to them and walk away. But then the young Weaver nodded once. "I've heard talk of this."

"And have you told people that they're wrong? Have you explained that Besh and Sirj saved our lives?"

At that Q'Daer met his gaze. "No, I haven't."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm not exactly sure what happened that night. I know how it seemed at the time. To both of us. But those who say that it all worked out too well for them may have a point."

Grinsa wanted to scream. Could Fal'Borna distrust of all Eandi truly run so deep? But he held his temper in check. Q'Daer hadn't said that he agreed with I'Joled and the others. He had merely admitted to having his doubts. So Grinsa started with the simplest elements of the events on the plain that led to their illness.

"Do you believe that they sickened us?"

The Fal'Borna twisted his mouth, looking like a small boy. "No," he finally said. "I believe Torgan did that, just as I believe that he killed the other merchant."

"Do you believe that Torgan was working with them?"

He shook his head. "No, I don't believe that, either."

"Then you don't believe that Besh and Sirj meant to do us harm."

"I suppose not," he said, grudgingly.

"And you can't deny that they healed us."

"I said only that the others had a point!" Q'Daer told him. "You don't need to speak to me like I'm a fool."

"That's not what I'm doing, Q'Daer. I'm trying to figure out what you believe and what you don't. And it sounds to me like you don't think the Mettai are enemies of… of our people, but you're also not certain their spell actually has made us immune to the witch's curse. Is that right?"

The Fal'Borna was scowling again. It seemed to Grinsa that his face didn't relax into a smile as most people's did, but that this was his most natural look. He nodded once more. "Yes, that's about right."

"Come with us, then. Cresenne and I were on our way to speak with Besh and Sirj. The three of us are their only friends right now."

"I'm not their friend," Q'Daer said quickly.

Grinsa took Cresenne's hand and the two of them started walking in the direction of the Mettai's z'kal.

"You don't believe they want to kill us," he said over his shoulder. "Right now, that makes you as good a friend as they have among the Fal'Borna."

He hoped that Q'Daer would follow, but wasn't certain he would until he looked back and saw the young Weaver walking behind them, muttering to himself, his eyes trained on the ground.

Grinsa noticed the guards well before they reached Besh and Sirj. At first he saw only the two directly in front of them. But as he started looking for them, he spotted several more. They were keeping their distance from the Mettai, but they were there just the same, and he had no doubt that Besh and Sirj had noticed them.

The two Mettai were sitting on the ground in front of their shelter, eating. Besh saw Grinsa first and quickly got to his feet. Sirj did the same.

"Are you both all right?" Grinsa asked as he, Cresenne, and Q'Daer drew near to the two men.

"We're prisoners," Besh said flatly.

"You're guests of the a'laq," Q'Daer told him, before Grinsa could respond.

Besh glared at him. "I don't know what that means. We're being watched by armed guards. We're surrounded by them. That I understand."

"Do you understand as well that your people and mine are at war? Do you understand that we're under attack by Eandi and Mettai alike? How do you expect to be treated?"

"Like the men who saved your life," Besh said, his voice as cold and hard as Grinsa had ever heard it.

The last thing Grinsa wanted was for Q'Daer to express his doubts about whether the Mettai really had saved them.

"This isn't helping any of us," he said, before Q'Daer could answer. He turned to Besh and Sirj. "We need to find some way to convince E'Menua that the two of you aren't threats to the sept."

"I would have thought that the spell we cast protecting all of you from Lici's plague had done that already."

Perhaps there was no way to avoid this conversation.

Grinsa looked at Cresenne. "Tell them."

She gazed back at him, clearly reluctant.

He took her hand again. "It has to be you. Coming from Q'Daer, it'll sound too belligerent. And I'm not the one who spoke to F'Solya."

Cresenne nodded and raked her free hand through her hair. Grinsa couldn't help but smile at the gesture-it was so familiar, and yet it had been so long since he'd last seen her do it.

"What is it you want her to tell us?" Besh asked.

"Many in the sept don't believe that your spell will protect them," Cresenne answered, facing the two Mettai. "Some think that the magic simply won't work. Others…" She took a breath, her eyes flicking briefly in Grinsa's direction. "Others wonder if you're trying to trick them into risking their lives. They think you want them to believe that the spell will protect them, but-"

"I understand," Besh said, despair in his dark eyes.

He stared off to the side. It took Grinsa a moment to realize that he was looking at one of the guards.

"So the fact that I killed Lici means nothing?" the old man asked after a lengthy silence. He faced Grinsa again. "The necklace given to us by F'Ghara means nothing?" His voice rose as he spoke. "The spell we cast to cure you and Q'Daer of the plague means nothing?"

"You were given the necklace before we knew of the coming war," Q'Daer said, surprising Grinsa with his tone, which was as gentle as Besh's had been harsh. "And there are those who would believe that you sickened us and then cured us to win our trust."

Besh let out a bark of laughter, high-pitched and abrupt. "Whose mind works that way? Who would do such a thing?"

"Lici," Sirj said in a low voice. "She would have done it."

This was met with another silence, though after a moment Besh gave a small nod, as if conceding the point.

After some time Besh raised his eyes to look at Cresenne. "The person who voiced these doubts to you, does he wield much influence with the a'laq?"

"It was a woman," she said. "And no, neither she nor her husband has much influence with E'Menua. But I believe that the doubts she voiced to me are fairly typical. They've been kinder to me than have most people in this settlement, but in other ways they're very much like the rest of the sept."

Besh nodded again, looking from Cresenne to Grinsa and finally to Q'Daer. "So," he began. "Do you think that we cursed you with the plague and then healed you so that you'd trust us?"

"I'm certain that you didn't," Q'Daer told him. "It was Torgan."

"Have you said as much to your a'laq?"

Q'Daer hesitated, then shook his head.

"Why not?" Sirj asked.

The Fal'Borna cast a dark look at Grinsa before answering. "Because while I'm sure that Torgan made me sick," he said, "I'm not entirely convinced that you hadn't intended to do the same thing."

Grinsa gaped at him. "What?"

"Don't look so surprised, Forelander. I told you again and again that they might band together against us. The Mettai may wield magic, but their eyes are dark. Their blood is Eandi."

This was true. Several times after Besh and Sirj joined their company on the plain, Q'Daer voiced concerns about the Mettai or the merchants striking at them, or even joining forces against them. At the time, Grinsa had dismissed the Fal'Borna's suspicions. He believed then, as he did now, that Besh and Sirj were sincerely interested in stopping Lici and her curse. But with an army of Eandi warriors and Mettai sorcerers now advancing across the plain, he could see why Q'Daer would be even less inclined to trust these two men.