Kehrsyn awoke with a start. She glanced around, eyes wide, pupils dilated in fear. She saw that one of the corpses was indeed not where she'd last seen it. Dread gripped her heart, and bile rose in her throat, impelled by her empty stomach. She saw a flicker of light in the kitchen, a dun splash moving in the darkness. It vanished. She heard the sliding sound again, and the feet of a body in the kitchen began to slide out of sight.

Confused, Kehrsyn shrank back unto the cushions. She pulled one of the pillows out from behind her and placed it in front. She panned her head back and forth, looking for movement, ears tuned for any noise, mouth open to aid the sharpness of her hearing.

In the kitchen, she saw a silhouette step into her line of sight. It held a bull's-eye lantern in one hand, easily recognized by the telltale red glow of the light behind its slatted louvers. Whoever-it-was opened the slats the tiniest amount and shone the light on the body on the floor.

"Nah," a male voice said, adding some explanation Kehrsyn couldn't quite hear.

He moved on, and two others followed him, passing through Kehrsyn's line of sight one by one. She heard the leader mutter under his breath, and a few moments later the other two passed by again, heading to the door, carrying one of the dead bodies between them, grunting quietly with the dead weight.

Hoping to evade detection, for it seemed they were seeking out the corpses that littered the building, Kehrsyn moved more of the pillows until she lay against the wall, concealed by soft cushions. As far as she knew, only her head was exposed, and that she kept hidden behind a large bolster with her hair veiling her face so that her eyes might not reflect the lantern light.

There she lay as the intruders moved around their grisly task, quietly moving corpse after corpse out of the building. Kehrsyn watched their progress carefully. They cleared her room, they cleared the kitchen, and they began to move deeper within the house.

Knowing they expected no one in the building to move voluntarily, Kehrsyn decided to discover more about the body snatchers. It might shed some light on the events surrounding the troublesome wand. She wriggled out from behind the pillows and worked her way across the room, against the wall where the floorboards were less likely to creak. She avoided the kitchen, in case the group chose to meet-or, worse yet, eat-there when they were finished. Instead, by dint of careful timing, she sidled across the hall and sneaked to the front room, where she hid among the camping baggage.

She watched as shadowy figures shuffled in and out, bearing their dead burdens. She heard the cold rain outside, and, hidden among the sounds of droplets splashing in the darkened streets, the distinctive drumming sound of rain on oiled tarpaulins.

As the activity wound down, the leader of the expedition stood near the front door, sipping brandy from a hip flask. Kehrsyn could smell the potent aroma spreading through the chill air.

One of the workers came in, dripping with rainwater. He wiped his face with a rag, then blew his nose loudly.

"They's all loaded up, sir. It's rather more harder than loading cordwood, if you take my meanin'."

The leader took another swig, recorked his flask with a satisfied sigh, and asked, "How many do we have?"

"I sure'n lost count, sir," came the reply. "But we got 'em all, and we can't do none better nor that, if you take my meanin'."

"Fair enough," said the leader, shrugging.

"So where to, sir?"

"We'll load them aboard Bow Before Me."

"What's that, sir?"

The leader waved a hand with some irritation and explained, "The merchant ship that came in the day before yesterday."

"But that's Zhentarim, sir," said the henchman with grave concern. "I don't think we want to be doin' that, if you take my meanin'."

Kehrsyn picked up the slightest pause before the leader answered, "Let's take a look at this carefully now, right? It's clear as a bell why this will be no problem."

He's stalling, thought Kehrsyn.

"What reasons would those be, sir?" asked the concerned lackey.

Another brief pause, then, "First of all, if these bodies get discovered in our possession, we're in serious trouble. Let's let the Zhentarim take the risk of stashing them until we're ready, even if they don't know they're helping. Second, it's a merchant ship. Anyone who sees us loading things up won't think it's out of the ordinary. People load and unload things from merchant ships all the time, day and night. Merchant ships have tight schedules, you know. But if we took them back to the temple, neighbors might see. They might talk."

The lackey scratched the back of his head through the hood of his cloak and asked, "You sure we'll be able to do this without them catching us?"

"The ship's guards don't know any more about what gets loaded than anyone else. They'll be happy to stay inside by the fire on a night like tonight. And if they don't, well, I can talk my way past them, no trouble. Trust me."

"Yes, sir." The lackey took a few steps down the ladder, then stopped to look one last time at the leader. "Glory to Tiamat," he said.

The leader nodded and said, "All glory."

Kehrsyn was unsure whether someone might still be guarding the building, watching for any stragglers who might return, so she spent the rest of the night inside. She was, at least, comfortable with the assumption that no one else would enter, there being truly nothing left of interest in the building, so she rearranged the pillows on the floor, scrounged several blankets from downstairs, and settled into a light sleep, fitful with dreams of the dead. Throughout the night, she listened to the rain, which gradually increased from a drizzle to a steady drumming, broken only occasionally by the faint grumble of thunder.

A brisk triple rap at the door roused her from her slumber. She sat up, blinking. A tinge of light told her that morning had finally come. The door rattled with another three raps, and Kehrsyn stood up a little too quickly, lurching to the side as the blood struggled to keep her brain functioning. She staggered over to the door and opened it, to see a stranger wrapped in an oiled overcoat, shifting from one foot to the other, his breath condensing in the air.

Great, thought Kehrsyn. Another cold, wet day. I don't want to face this. Not yet.

"Olare," said the stranger with forced cheerfulness. "Hope I didn't wake you."

"Wh-what do you want?" asked Kehrsyn.

"Delivery from the wizard Eileph, miss," he replied. "With his compliments."

He fumbled with his coat, eventually producing a small bundle carefully wrapped in waxed paper and bound with twine.

"Oh," said Kehrsyn as she took the bundle. "Thanks. Thanks a lot."

She moved to close the door.

"Miserable weather, eh miss?" he asked, just a bit too loudly, bouncing on his heels and blowing on his hands.

"Hmm? Yeah… miserable."

"That's right, a right miserable day," he echoed, forcing a smile.

Understanding wedged its unwelcome way into Kehrsyn's mind. She said something unintelligible (and, truth be told, probably incoherent) as she fished around in her coin pouch. She pulled forth a copper and was about to give it to the messenger, when she reconsidered and gave him a silver instead.

"Thank you, miss," he said with honest cheer, touched one finger to his eyebrow, and made his hunch-shouldered way down the ladder again.

Kehrsyn stared at the rain falling in the streets, her view intermittently obscured by the steam of her breath. At least, she thought, the rain has washed away the last of the grimy snow.

She closed the door, blinked, and stretched out the tightness in her back. Noticing that the inside of the building was no warmer than the outside, Kehrsyn wrapped herself up in her cloak and investigated the kitchen. She found a few cold, half-eaten sausages and some stale bread to break her fast, while thinking morosely about the wonderful meal she'd had at Wing's Reach. There was nothing to drink except various alcohol, the very thought of which turned her stomach. Instead, she found a large, clean bowl and placed it on the front stoop to catch some rainwater.