Melann sighed in exasperation, frustration, and fear.

In the morning, Vheod awoke from a night of fitful dreams. He'd dreamed of running about in a maze of underground tunnels. No matter where he went there seemed to be no way out. He felt as though the tunnels were leading him ever onward, toward some dark fate he could see coming but could not avoid.

The sun had already risen, but still cowered behind the mountains, giving the sky a light purple glow. The clouds still loomed above and gave no hint of parting that day. The air was moist but pleasantly fragrant in a way that might take him many years to truly become accustomed to. He was willing to try, he thought with a smile.

Melann was awake, not very far away, searching through some bushes for berries or other edible plants for breakfast. Vheod wasn't hungry, but thought to offer to provide some game for a meal. He stood, preparing himself for a short hunt. Melann turned at the sound of his rising.

"Good morning," she said, smiling. She held a small handful of red berries.

In the Abyss, plant life is twisted and evil-viper trees, clawgrass, and the blood-drinking thorns that Vheod remembered so well. Here it was pure. Vheod admired Melann's dedication to nurturing growing things. It seemed like a worthwhile purpose in life. "Good morning," he returned, a little awkwardly. Vheod gathered some of his things together. "Perhaps I can add to what you have gathered there. Surely there's some small animal or bird around here that-"

"No, I'll go." The voice came from behind Vheod. It was Whitlock. Vheod turned to see him already taking up a small crossbow he'd not seen the warrior use before. Whitlock scowled at Vheod and turned, walking out of the camp. Vheod watched him go but said nothing.

Melann walked over to Vheod, offering him some berries. "He…" Melann began to explain, but never finished. Vheod nodded sternly.

“I know he doesn't trust me. I cannot blame him for that."

Melann smiled, still holding up the berries. "We've had this conversation before," she said.

"Yes," Vheod said, taking a berry in his long fingers and popping it into his mouth.

Melann laid the berries on a cloth on the ground and searched through their packs, probably looking for any remaining bread or cheese. Vheod wished again that he'd thought to bring along his own supplies-not for himself, but to offer to Melann and Whitlock.

Vheod looked at Melann, and watched her prepare the food. He turned to look in the direction Whitlock’s had gone, and finally back to Melann.

"Not having grown up with siblings or a family of any kind," Vheod said, "I can only guess at the relationship you and Whitlock share. You must care about each other very much." He turned away, suddenly no longer able to look directly at Melann.

"I’ve never really worked with anyone or been cared for by anyone," he continued. "I've never encountered anyone worth caring about."

Vheod lowered his voice to almost a whisper.' "Melann, I want you to know I am sorry about your parents. Even though I don't believe any good can come from visiting the place where Chare'en rests, I do hope you and your brother can find another means with which to lift the curse on your family."

"Thank you, Vheod," she replied, looking up at him only for a moment. She added, "We're not ready to give up."

"I know, and I even understand. That's why I'm going with you. I want to make sure that when you discover that-as I believe-you've made an error, I can be of some help in ensuring nothing goes wrong, and Chare'en is not freed."

Can a man trust his own feelings, Vheod thought, particularly a man whose soul is half demon? Vheod wondered how a cambion could ever truly know which half of him was guiding his actions. The fact that Chare'en was his great-grandfather, and the fact that the Taint seemed to be leading him along his current path, worried him. He couldn't share that worry with Melann, though-not yet.

Melann didn't say anything, nor had she apparently found any more food in her pack. She put the pack down with a sigh, and the sound was accompanied by a far-off cry of surprise and pain.

"Whitlock!" She turned toward the sound. Vheod heard the yell and what seemed like the sound of a sword being drawn. He ran off toward the noise, followed quickly by Melann.

Wet grass under Vheod's feet made footing slippery as he loped down the hillside on which they had camped. He kept his sword sheathed in order to have both hands free to steady himself as he ran. He heard a resonant, high-pitched screech he couldn't identify. At the bottom of the hill, a number of pine trees grew, their spread branches forming a thick, dark green wall. Vheod plunged into the trees. The needles scratched against him as he ran but didn't cut his leathery skin. The earth underneath his feet was covered with a thick carpet of brown needles and old pine cones, but the thick trees had never allowed grass or underbrush to grow. The ground under the needles was soft and moist and gave with each of Vheod's heavy, booted steps. He paused for just a moment to look behind him Vheod couldn't see Melann through the trees, but he thought he heard her approach. Another high-pitched screech made him turn back the way he was headed.

Vheod heard another shrill cry, but this time it came from behind him. He stopped and turned yet again. He heard Melann cry out, "Vheod!"

He ran back. Melann lay on the ground at the edge of the trees. Her shoulder was bare, and crimson gashes gushed blood. Next to her stood a black bird at least five feet tall, with its outstretched wings measuring fifteen feet or more. The slashes must have come from this creature's talons, and it wasn't done with her yet. The gigantic raven raised itself over Melann, ready to strike her with its huge, black beak.

As he charged, Vheod yelled to draw its attention. The ploy worked, and the monster looked up. Vheod's I blade sang as he slid it from its scabbard. The raven silently stared with shining eyes as black as oil. As Vheod burst from the trees, he saw that the sky was black with ravens. Most of them were smaller than the creature that stood over Melann.

He also saw that Melann was far from helpless She cast a spell-more of a beseeching prayer-as he ran to her prone form. She waved her small holy symbol above her head, toward the sky.

A surge of energy washed over Vheod. Cool and warm at the same time, this pleasant power flowed through him, making his muscles relax and obey hid with precision. His heart beat strong and steady it his chest, and all manner of fatigue fled. When the energy reached within him, he felt it wrap around his soul and gently caress it, as though he was being strengthened and supported in the battle he was about to fight. He realized this was a feeling he'd never felt before.

Vheod had been blessed.

A stinging sensation stabbed into his right leg. It felt like a dozen needles poking into his flesh at rapid intervals. He had no idea what it was, and when he looked down he saw nothing. He had to ignore it. He turned his attention back to the giant bird.

Melann was trying to scramble away from the distracted raven. It kept its wide eyes on Vheod and opened its beak, producing the high screech that Vheod had heard earlier. He leaped at the creature with his sword, and as he did, half a dozen of the more normal-sized ravens swooped down at him from above. The large bird pulled its head back, dodging Vheod's blow while its smaller brethren dived at him. Their beaks and claws struck like tiny, flying daggers, cutting into his flesh in many places at once.

The large raven, its wings still outstretched, thrust itself beak-first at Vheod. He realized just in time that the small birds only meant to distract him, and he swung his sword like a powerful club, batting away the sharp beak in a clumsy parry. Meanwhile, at least two of the small ravens landed on Vheod's shoulder and back and tore at his flesh with greater ferocity, their beating wings battering him into distraction. The movement all around disoriented him, but he planted his feet firmly on the ground and steadied his gaze on the real threat.