Finally, his shoulders slumped and he spoke in barely more than a whisper. "My son was taken. Just like Jalan. My wife died, just like your knights. I never saw my son again." A bit of the cold hardness returned to his eyes. "That what you want?"

Amira slapped him, then stepped back, shocked at herself.

Gyaidun glared at her, but he didn't back down. "Hit me all you want," he said. "But if you're keeping secrets from me, you're only damning Jalan. Right now, I'm the only friend you have."

She held his gaze a moment longer, wrestling with her own doubt, then her shoulders sagged. She lowered her staff and sat down beside the fire.

"Sit down."

Gyaidun hesitated, then turned and went to their packs. For a moment she thought he was offended, but he returned with their blankets. He tossed one to her, then sat across the fire from her. He held his blanket in his lap.

Amira wrapped hers around her shoulders, then began her tale.

"I… I lied."

She watched him for a reaction. He blinked.

"I was not part of any official expedition from Cormyr. Search parties were sent. That much was true, but I was forbidden from going.

It was no simple assignment that I was at High Horn. Over the past few years I have been somewhat… insubordinate. They sent me to High Horn in hopes of reining me in. The attack there occurred just as I told you and the others, but when search parties were organized, I was forbidden from going. My superiors"-she made no attempt to keep the sneer from her voice-"believed I was too close to the situation, too emotionally attached to serve the crown with proper objectivity.

Besides, I am a Hiloar, and my House's relationship with the crown and the war wizards is… strained. They assured me they would do all they could for Jalan, but told me in no uncertain terms that I was to remain at High Horn."

Her voice was breaking. She was about to get up and go for her waterskin when Gyaidun handed his to her. She nodded her thanks and took a long drink.

"You're a renegade then," said Gyaidun. "You disobeyed and went anyway."

She held herself erect, proud, ready to defend herself, but much to her surprise she saw approval in Gyaidun's frank gaze.

"I'm here, aren't I?" she said.

He smiled. "Go on."

"I am not without resources, and I organized my own party. Swords for hire, a few good scouts I knew, and even two thieves I thought might prove useful. We ran into one of the 'official' expeditions in Nathoud. Had I run into Strirris or Jamilan's party, they might have arrested me on the spot, but it was Mursen. He and I have a… history together, you might say."

Amira watched Gyaidun for a reaction. There wasn't one.

"His knights wanted him to arrest the lot of us, but I talked him out of it. I agreed to submit myself to his authority and face formal charges when we returned to Cormyr, but until then it made more sense to join forces. The knights balked and complained, but Mursen agreed.

My family has contacts in Nathoud, and we obtained the finest horses in the area and set off into the Wastes."

Her breath caught. She took another long drink and stared into the fire.

"How many?" asked Gyaidun.

"What?"

"Your parties joined together. How many were you?"

"A score and three. We set an unflagging pace. Lesser mounts would have died, but these were the finest Nathoud horses. We caught them.

We caught the whoreson bastards who had Jalan. We saw them around midday and chased them until nearly sunset."

She needed a moment to compose herself. She tied the waterskin shut, tossed it back to Gyaidun, then put a bit more kindling on the fire. The flames burned low, down to little more than embers in ashes, and the fire would go out if no one tended it.

Gyaidun threw some of the dried dung on the fire and said, "What happened?"

"We fought. Those white-skinned barbarians fought like devils, but still we were beating them. Until the sun went down."

"The sun?"

"That… thing. The one in the dark robes. He fled before us and hung back. At first we thought him no more than a decrepit old man.

But when the sun went down, he… he…"

"What?"

"It was like… like watching a petal unfold. No, it was faster than that. Like throwing oil on a fire. Once darkness was upon us, he became terrible. Knights fell before him like wheat under a scythe.

Mursen tried to stop him, and that… that monster blocked the spell and snapped Mursen's neck."

Amira closed her eyes, hoping to push back the tears, but it only brought the image back, stark and clear-seeing the slate-gray sky and under it Mursen's head forced all the way around, hearing the final snap. She opened her eyes and wiped the tears away on her sleeve.

"Mursen was your… I don't know your word. Lover?"

Amira tried to smile, but she could feel it twisting into something else. "Not in a long time, but… he…"

"I am sorry for your loss. He died well."

"Died well?" The tears were flowing freely now, but she didn't care. "That monster snapped his neck like a twig. Died well or died poorly. Died brave or died a coward. Does it matter?"

Gyaidun's eyes were hard, but there was a gentleness in his voice that Amira had never heard before. "He died fighting. Fighting to save your son. Fighting beside comrades. Better that than a drooling old man whose heart stops in his sleep."

Amira wanted to rail and curse him, pummel him with her fists and maybe sear that damned calm look off his face, but all she said was,

"Fool."

Gyaidun sat unfazed. "I did not know Mursen. I do not know your western ways. If I offended, I apologize. I am sorry your… friend died."

" 'Died.' " Amira laughed. "You make it sound so simple. He was killed. There's a damnably big difference."

"Not in the Wastes."

"You ba-"

"What happened to the others?"

"What?"

"The others. You said there were twenty-three of you when you found Jalan's abdoctors."

Amira snorted.

"What?" asked Gyaidun, his brows wrinkled in confusion.

"Abductors."

"What?"

"You said, 'abdoctors.' The word is abductors."

Gyaidun scowled.

Damn him. Amira found the anger gone. One little word he hadn't even meant to say and the fury at him evaporated. The pain at losing Mursen, the horror of the things she'd seen that night and since, the fear she'd kept barely in check every moment since… all of it was still there. But the anger at Gyaidun and his confidence and simple way of looking at the world was gone. Damn him.

"What happened?"

"Mursen's… sacrifice"-she almost tripped over the word but forced herself to continue-"allowed me the chance I needed. I killed one of those pale-skinned barbarians, grabbed Jalan, and…"

"And what?"

"We come to why I told you all this in the first place."

"I don't understand."

"I grabbed Jalan and cast a spell. One moment we were there out under the darkening sky, death all around us, and the next we were leagues away. What happened to the rest of my comrades, I don't know.

Some were still alive and fighting when I made it to Jalan. A few had fled. But at that moment all I could think about was getting Jalan away."

"Wait," said Gyaidun. "You mean to tell me that you know a spell that will take you leagues away in… in the blink of an eye?"

"More or less."

"Then why did we just spend an entire day running across the steppe, if you could have just… just 'blinked' us here or whatever it is you do?"

Amira straightened and propped her staff up beside her. It was a pose and she knew it, but she hoped it would serve to remind Gyaidun with whom he was dealing. She was no fresh-faced maiden in distress.

"Truth be told," she said, "I wasn't entirely sure I could trust you. I'm still not. And part of me… a small part, maybe, but a part hoped your belkagen was just a crazy old elf who's spent too many days under the sun. Part of me hoped that Jalan and your friend just ran across bandits and fled with my son. You yourself said the caravan trails are thick with them this time of year."