"She's out of her element, Galvin," Wynter said softly, watching a large leaf swirl in the current, "but at least she's trying." He brushed the mud specks off his chest, then finally turned to glance at the sorceress. She groaned as one of her boots fell free and hit the ground behind her.

"I hate you!" she sputtered at Galvin.

Galvin ignored her and looked up at the centaur. "She's very trying. But at least this way we'll make better time."

An hour later they stopped to rest. Galvin dumped Brenna unceremoniously amidst a patch of tall grass. Wynter watched the sorceress right herself and sit cross-legged on the ground, fuming. She tried to pick the caked mud from her skirt hem. Her face was red from anger. She was exhausted from struggling with the pigheaded druid.

Brenna's limbs ached. Most of her exercise back in Aglarond had consisted of strolling from her home through the city streets to the council chambers or the wizards guild's library. She took a rented carriage to market and to various civic functions, and she was silently cursing herself now for being so out of shape physically. Being one of the youngest members of a council dominated by elves and half-elves, she had argued that she was the natural choice to travel cross-country with the Harper duo. She hadn't thought it would be so physically demanding. From her perspective, Galvin and Wynter looked the same as they had before the trip started, and that frustrated her all the more. No, Galvin looked even better, as his shoulder was healing.

The sorceress said nothing to them for quite a while, and although the druid usually enjoyed the quiet, he found this silence uncomfortable. He determined he had made a mistake in letting her come along in the first place and would rectify the situation now.

Trying to act civilized, he broke the silence. "Brenna," he began, "we can't turn back now, but if you don't think you can make it, I can leave you along the bank a few miles up the river." The druid knew where a stream branched off from the river there; merchants regularly traveled downstream to reach the villages to the south. He was certain the enchantress could arrange transportation with a passing merchant. The area was relatively free of large predators and should be safe. He guessed she wouldn't be on her own for more than a few hours.

"You're not leaving me behind!" she snapped. "I have to go to Thay. Thay is a threat to Aglarond. Not that you'd really care about that."

"I understand."

"I bet you do," she spat. "You spend your life in the woods trying to understand animals, not people."

"I understand Thay," Galvin answered, avoiding her eyes and leaning back on the grass to stare into the sky. The druid knew about the evil country because he had studied it, had questioned merchants journeying from the major Thayvian cities, and had spent long evenings with Wynter discussing the country's ills.

"I might as well be talking to a parrot. The conversation would be better." She stuck out her bottom lip and glared at the druid.

"The Harpers are interested in Thay, too," Wynter offered. "This mission is important to both our organization and Aglarond." The centaur looked at Galvin. "We should let her in on the plan," Wynter advised. The druid continued to watch the sky, and the centaur took his lack of objection as agreement.

"We'll pose as Thayvians," Wynter began, noting that Brenna seemed to be calming down a little. "Centaurs walk freely in the streets of Thay, and humans are the dominant race. We'll have no trouble."

"And?" Brenna was curious.

"Then we listen for rumors, study the current political situation, and gather as much information as we can about this Red Wizard Maligor or any other Red Wizard who might make trouble against Aglarond. The more we learn, the better the Harpers can deal with any threat."

"That's it? Just gather information?" The sorceress's ire was rising again. "I thought we were going to do something."

"Getting information is doing something," Wynter countered. "The Harpers can't act in force unless we know what we're up against."

"And you think posing as Thayvians will get us that information?" Brenna returned.

"Yes," the centaur stated. "We haven't been able to learn much from outside Thay. Inside the country, posing as Thayvians, it should be another matter. Of course," he added softly, "spying is dangerous. If we're found out, we'll likely be put to death."

The sorceress dug into her pocket to retrieve her gold hair clasp and began picking the dirt out of it with her long fingernails. "I know it's dangerous, but I'm doing it for my home country." She glanced at the druid. "Look, Galvin, you don't really have a home. I mean, you live in the woods. It's not like feeling you're a part of a country. When it comes right down to it, you're only responsible for yourself. But when you live around people, as I do, you feel responsibility toward them."

"I have a home," Galvin said tersely. He propped himself up on his elbows and frowned at Brenna. Standing up, he brushed the dirt from his tunic. His home was the wilderness of Faerun, and he considered himself the protector of the animals who lived in it.

"Fine. You have a home." Brenna ignored the centaur's gentle nudge, not sensing when to quit. "It's just that my home has lots of people-people who may be in grave danger." She paused to blow her hair away from her eyes. Several stubborn strands stuck to her sweat-stained forehead and she had to move them aside with her hand.

"Our country's history is wrapped up with the Red Wizards. We've battled them on and off for decades." She paused again, this time to untwine a braid and take another deep breath. Galvin had her started, and she wasn't going to stop until she finished her say or passed out from exhaustion.

"In the past when we've fought the wizards' forces, like in the battles of Singing Sands or Brokenheads, we were able to defeat them, but our casualties were high. Our ruler, the Simbul, doesn't want another war. Or if we must fight, she wants to know it's coming so we can be prepared."

The druid turned his back to Brenna and resumed his course along the riverbank. The centaur bent at the waist and extended a hand to help the councilwoman up. This time she took it.

"We're not making good enough time to reach the First Escarpment today," Wynter said. "We'll probably travel another couple of hours, then camp for the evening."

"We can make it. I'll walk faster," she volunteered, although she knew she had pushed herself hard already and would have trouble keeping up with only one boot.

The trio, with Brenna in the rear, continued along the bank. Close to the river, ancient willows, one with a trunk nearly as thick as Galvin was tall, dug their roots into the earth to drink thirstily from the river. Their long, whiplike branches danced in the breeze and swept the ground. Galvin carefully moved a few branches aside and disappeared under the largest willow's umbrellalike canopy.

Dozens of small yellow parrots perched in the giant tree chittered excitedly. When Wynter and Brenna passed through the willow branches and emerged on the other side of the tree, they saw two of the birds sitting on the druid's shoulder. Galvin was several yards ahead, and he appeared to be talking to them. Wynter moved quietly toward the druid, but Brenna kept her distance.

She stared at Galvin as he chittered back at the birds. Finally curiosity got the better of her, and she took a step forward, her bare foot landing on a sharp rock. "Ouch!" she gasped, balancing herself on her booted foot. Standing on one leg, she pulled the other up in front of her, turning the bottom of her foot up so she could inspect it. Dirt clung to her heel and the ball of her foot, and blood flowed from a gash just behind her toes.