General disclaimer: I own nothing, even Maiyn generally decides her own path.

--

Coming Clean

--

Coran awoke from his reverie to the soft caress of the airy breeze coming in through the open window and the gentle murmur of birdsong. The bedclothes had been neatly laid across him, and as he sat up groggily, using one hand to rub across his eyes, he realised that there was no trace left of Guildmistress Busya ever having been there.

The solitary candle he’d left alight while he drank in the curves and softness of her body and skin had long burnt down into nothing, and by the time they’d both exhausted their passion there’d only been a few hours to pass before the rising of the sun.

They’d not spoken at all, except to exchange sweet nothings and murmured compliments of each other. But he’d been aware of just how long it had been since he last was with a woman; her need had matched his perfectly, however, and their bodies had entwined in a shared rhythm of the greatest intimacy.

And now she’d gone. She’d left as the grey sky outside threatened snow, as he knew she would. The journey ahead of her would be long and he only hoped that she wouldn’t find it too hard to bear with her lack of rest.

And then he allowed himself to fall back onto the bed, stretching out as he closed his eyes, a small smile of contentment on his face.

--

Maiyn was slightly surprised to discover that she was first to arrive in the quiet common room that morning. There was no sign of Coran amongst the few scattered and used tables, and so she made her way over to one on its own, just past the kitchen door, where she could have a good view all around.

She stifled a small yawn as she took her seat; despite the slight fatigue she felt, she’d had a good nights rest and felt much more invigorated after her sleep. She was thankful that Coran had decided to arrange the slightly more expensive room on her behalf – her head had only just lain down on the plump pillow before she’d fallen into a deep, peaceful slumber, waking up well past dawn.

She didn’t know how long it’d be before Coran decided to join her, and she had no intention of disturbing his rest, especially not after she’d been so short with him the evening before. She hoped they’d be able to put it behind them and just move on and away from it without dwelling too much. She’d been overly tired and she was all too aware that her emotions were proving to be slightly erratic.

The only comforting factor she had was the lack of paternal advice being offered to her any more.

Soon she was settled before a table almost completely covered with food. Plates of bread, oatcakes and cheese, a large pot of porridge, jars of honey and marmalade, a dish of butter and a scent of bacon and eggs were coming from the kitchen. The waitress bustled around as Maiyn smiled to her, chatting pleasantly about the weather and the road between the inn and Beregost. A steaming pot of tea appeared, and a jug of milk also managed to find some space on the now crowded surface.

“Will ye be needin’ anything else, milady?”

Maiyn laughed lightly. “I don’t think so, no. I hardly think I’ll be able to manage much of this, as it is!”

“Then perhaps you will consent to my company, my sweet?”

Maiyn smiled up at Coran as he took a seat across from her. He appeared to be in good spirits, despite the bursts of terseness that seemed to occur between them at times. He wasted no time in choosing a few, select plates, and offering them to Maiyn before helping himself, and piling his own dish high with pastries and breads. Maiyn glanced at the porridge pot and raised an eyebrow at him.

“None for you?” she asked, pushing her chair back as she prepared to stand up.

He wrinkled his nose, but was faster out of his chair than she, and gently took her bowl from her hands. “Not for me, no,” he said, eyeing the mixture with obvious distrust. “My taste for it went, I’m afraid. Quite some time ago, as well…”

“Oh?” Maiyn asked, allowing herself to settle back into her chair and curtailing her slightly annoyed feeling. “Is this a tale of your exploits before…” There was an awkward pause. “Well, before you joined with us, I mean,” she finished, busying herself with clearing a space for her bowl.

“Actually, no,” he replied quietly, ladling the porridge into the bowl masterfully. He placed it down before Maiyn, offered her a quick smile, and returned to his own seat, reaching out for the honey pot.

“It was not long after I became part of your group,” he said, coating some of his bread in the thick orange substance while Maiyn delicately stirred some more milk into her own breakfast. “Jaheira had decided, by then, that I was a negative influence on such young, naïve girls, and she’d already issued me with several public warnings about my intentions. As you’ll recall, I heeded none of them.”

“I remember,” Maiyn agreed, a slight grin on her face. Their eyes met, and he returned the smile, before both went back to their respective foods.

“It was not long before we arrived at the Cloakwood Mine,” he continued, warming to the tale now. “Mistress Jaheira tended to be our cook, as neither you nor Imoen had shown much… promise in that particular field.”

Maiyn snorted.

“And, of course, when we were far from cities and towns, and on limited supplies, dear Jaheira would somehow… almost magically, be able to make her special ‘porridge’ from just about anything. So, she did…”

“And?” Maiyn’s brow was wrinkled as she tried to remember anything strange about their food at that time.

“And let us say that when Jaheira jokes about putting something into your food, you shouldn’t always just laugh it off; especially not when she knows as much about flowers and herbs as she does.”

Maiyn gave him an inquiring look. “Are you meaning the time she threatened to brew that bark to improve your memory?”

He flushed slightly and nodded. “The day she left me with the knowledge that she, in no uncertain terms, was not happy about our… our courting.”

“The day you were extremely cheeky to her?”

“Ah, yes. That as well. Well, we camped close to the mine, do you remember? She glared at me as I curled next to you, and I offered her a polite and cheerful smile as she went to take watch. The next morning, she made breakfast for us. Porridge. And everyone seemed to enjoy it.”

“I thought you did too?”

“I thought I did as well. It wasn’t until much later that she told me what she had put in it. And then, I really wished she’d just gone for the bark, instead! And no, lirimaer, I will not tell you what it was. But remember that, as a druid, Jaheira insists that the Balance be maintained at all times. Did you never wonder what she did to balance her constant struggle to ensure the victory of goodness? Because… I think I know, now!”

Maiyn giggled and took a handful of berries from one of the bowls that had been added to their table while they were in conversation. Coran frowned slightly as she sprinkled them over her porridge.

“Is that wise?” he asked.

She looked up at him with a blank expression. “Hmm?”

He waved his hand towards her bowl. “The berries. Is it wise to eat them?”

She frowned a little; looking down at the fruit, then back up at his concerned face with a puzzled expression of her own. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Are they fresh?” he asked.

She began looking at him oddly. “They seem to be…”

“Let me see them.” He leaned over, taking the small dish and sniffing at it, poking around the berries that remained and examining them. “Blueberries, redcurrants… I see.”

She waited until he’d put the dish back down, noticing he still kept it away from her, and stared at him until their eyes met.

“What?” he asked.

“Are you going to tell me what that was all about?” she asked, rolling her eyes at his continued blank expression. “Since when have you had to vet my food for me?”

She noticed that he at least had the good grace to look a little sheepish. “I, ah, just... well. You know. You never can be, er, too... careful?”

She gave him a challenging look, and he carefully avoided her gaze. “You’ve never done that before,” she noted.

“Ah, but you weren’t-“ He stopped abruptly.

She scowled. “With child?”

He frowned back at her. “Brielbara told me-“

“Oh, Fenmarel give me patience!”

“-that when she discovered she was having Namara she had to be very careful-“

“Coran, can you hear yourself?”

“-about what she ate, as her constitution wasn’t quite what it had been. And that she had more than just herself to think about, and-“

“CORAN!”

He stopped, giving her a half-hurt, half-embarrassed look. She couldn’t stay annoyed with him for long.

“I... appreciate your concern, really I do,” she said patiently. “But there are a lot of differences between Briel and me. And... it’s barely been a two months. I have... there is a long way to go before I’m anywhere near the level I think that you’re thinking I’m at.”

He shrugged sulkily; then sighed and ran a hand through his hair; and then he nodded, smiling weakly and picking up the teapot. He poured two cups full of sweet smelling tea, and raised his own to her in way of a toast. She stared at him suspiciously, and raised her own cup to meet his slowly and cautiously.

“To our continuing friendship,” he said, “even when I do start acting strangely around you and asking you to take the weight off your delicate feet. And when I give you the sort of hard eye you’d expect from Jaheira, all because you’re sipping at some wine. And especially for when I start offering to carry your bags everywhere...”

Maiyn grinned. “Oh, I don’t know. The last one actually sounds quite appealing. Or it would, had you not already purchased those bags!”

His cheeks reddened slightly. “And if you’re going to insist that I take the weight off my feet, it’s only fair that they get a massage to soothe the effects of a hard day’s toil.”

How bowed his head acceptingly. “You are right, of course. And I’m sure Imoen will be only too happy to help.”

Maiyn tutted loudly, ignoring his triumphant grin.

--

“Where do you see yourself in a year?”

Maiyn threw glance over to her companion, but Coran’s face was serious as he gazed at the road ahead. They were riding slowly along the road, their horses enjoying a leisurely walk on the dusty route.

“You sound like the old monks,” she muttered darkly, looking back over to the countryside they were passing. “Or,” she continued, shooting a suspicious look over to him, “is this an extension to our discussion before we left?”

He laughed. “No, dear Maiyn, no.” He frowned. “In fact, I didn’t think of that at all...”

She didn’t look wholly convinced, but shrugged anyway. “I don’t know,” she replied. “Where would I like to be? I suppose... I suppose I’d love to fix up that old cottage by the lake, and live there, and be safe there. It’s not that far from Imoen and Jaheira, but far enough for them to have their own lives without me getting in the way.”

He nodded.

“What about you?”

“Me?” He looked thoughtful for several moments. “I stopped thinking like that a long time ago,” he admitted. “For a while, I was happy just to be wherever I was, and then... then I was happy to be wherever you were.”

She felt herself tense. “And now? What would you think now?”

He shrugged. “As I said at the lake, I’d be content to live close to you, even now. Things may have changed, but...” He sighed heavily. “But you bewitched me more than anyone else has ever managed to, and though it all feels differently now to us both, you are still very special to me. Very special.”

“You should tell him, mistress.” Verya was trotting alongside the horses, seemingly too lazy to go scouting ahead.

Tell him what?

“Tell him how you feel.”

I...

“Of course, if that’s not what you would want, then I’d not want to intrude. I know that with everything you’ll have happening, I might not be the ideal person to have around-“

“Actually, you’re exactly who I’d want to have around,” she interrupted quietly. Her heart was beating thunderously. Verya sent her feelings of approval, but a silence lingered in the air for several minutes.

“Really?”

She nodded, but kept her eyes away from him. They weren’t far from Farmer Brun’s old cottage; Maiyn could remember the old man from their last visits to these lands, when they found his son had been killed by the invading ankhegs. They’d been unable to save the boy, but stayed with the older man to bury his child, and to help him with his farm until they’d managed to persuade him to accept the coin he’d need to employ someone to help him in earnest. Maiyn wondered if he’d still be there, in his farm; she hoped so.

“Why?”

She shrugged uncomfortably. “You have... some experience, with Namara. And, we’re friends. I can trust you.”

He nodded. “Yes. Yes, we are friends.”

“Tell him, mistress. I know you are not happy with things as they are.”

“And I...” She faltered miserably, closing her eyes as she looked away from him even more and bit her lip. Oh Gods, oh Gods...

“Maiyn?”

She forced herself to look over to him, trying too hard to smile brightly. He only gave her a serious look in return. “What were you going to say?”

She swallowed hard, averting her gaze back to the path. “I... I was just going to say that I am happy we’re friends...”

“Mistress!”

“But...”

Another long pause followed.

“But?”

She raised her hand and rubbed her forehead. This was harder than she’d ever imagined it to be, but she knew Verya was right. She could assume she knew how Coran felt, but it wasn’t going to stop her from always holding a flicker of hope rooted somewhere inside her. She needed to tell him how she felt, if only to get some kind of finality to it all. Even if it meant losing him as a friend.

“Can we stop for a bit?” she asked. “This’d be much easier if I wasn’t trying to keep my balance as well.”

--

They stopped at a small hamlet of around half a dozen houses and a nearby farm. Verya skulked off into the forest to hunt as they tethered their horses to the traveller’s pole that had been erected by the locals, and they bought some of the apple juice being sold by one of the enthusiastic children before climbing up the grassy knoll a little, and sitting down on the slope overlooking their mounts. It afforded them both a little privacy and a tolerable view; there was a definite chill in the air, however, and Coran was almost certain he saw Maiyn shivering slightly as he waited for her to speak. He was about to ask her if she wanted to use his cloak, as well, when she took a hesitant sip from her cup and then opened her mouth to speak.

But then she hesitated, closed it again, and sighed. He looked away, not wanting to add to her pressure. What was she about to ask? That he leave her? That he was just reminding her of the past and making her miserable?

“I’ve been meaning to say this for some time,” she said quietly. He remained silent. “But, with things happening as they have, it never felt... right. I mean, first there was...” Her hand drifted to her stomach, and she sighed. “And then there was... Xan...”

He flinched slightly.

“And now... now it still feels wrong, but... but I think I have to say it, otherwise I may well end up just feeling terribly miserable.”

“Then say it,” he said.

He watched her take a deep breath. “When you agreed to let me travel with you, that we could be... friends,” she said, “I...”

There was a long pause.

“What I’m trying to say is, that I was so relieved and hopeful, because I knew we couldn’t immediately go back to how things were, no matter how much I just wanted to fly into your arms, but I really thought that with a bit of time and space we’d manage to sort things out and maybe try again, despite everything, because nothing managed to get in between us before,” she said quickly, in one single breath. She looked horrified when she’d finished, and held up her hand to stop him from saying anything.

“I don’t know exactly what you’re looking for in me, or... in anything, really, any more,” she continued, her voice calmer and more level. “I’d always hoped you’d find me, but after Spellhold... when Irenicus had my soul...” She sighed. “I wasn’t really... me... then, I don’t think. Or, I was me, but I... I didn’t have complete control.” She looked up at him quickly. “I do now.”

He nodded.

“So I just needed to say that... that it’s maybe not been as either of us expected it would be, I guess, but... for what it’s worth, if there was any chance of things getting back to how they were before, despite... Well. I’d rather know, one way or another, I suppose. Because... because I still love you.”

The breath caught in his throat, and suddenly his mouth felt very dry. “Oh, Maiyn. There is... there is something I need to tell you, too.”

--

She just nodded. She wasn’t sure what he expected her to say; his tone had been carefully neutral, and hadn’t betrayed any kind of feelings for the Trademeet woman at all. But neither had he expressed any for her, and so she wasn’t sure she understood the point of his confession.

The silence dragged on, however, and it became apparently clear that he expected some kind of interjection from her.

“It... it is none of my business, really,” she said, somewhat awkwardly. He only shook his head.

“You have told me how you feel... how you still feel about me. And I... I cannot say exactly how I feel about everything, because it’s so very complicated. But I know that my feelings for you have not changed. And... and for the life you carry within you... all I can do is take it one day at a time, and remind myself how you were accepting of Namara. How you are accepting.”

She found the courage to steal a quick glimpse of him. He was watching her with sincere eyes, looking strangely mature compared to how she remembered him. They’d both changed so much...

“You still...?”

“Love you?” He reached out, gently taking her hand in his. “Oh Maiyn, a’maelamin. You’re the only flame that’s refused to be extinguished despite the passing of time.”

She felt tears welling up. She sniffed loudly, and looked down to the grass beside her crossed legs. Her hand was squeezed.

“I truly believed that your feelings for me had diminished. That the time apart had allowed your emotions to cool.” Coran sighed. “I even doubted your friendship remained, initially, but was thankful to see I was wrong regarding it.”

“I thought I must have driven you away with my distance,” she admitted. “And with what happened with Xan...”

He offered her a crooked smile. “It is hypocritical of me, in the extreme, to have felt the way I did.” His expression sobered. “I thought, in Suldanessellar, that it would be easier for me to leave, when it was all done, to allow you and Xan to have a chance together, properly...”

Maiyn shook her head. “I doubt that would ever have happened. His feelings... he was conflicted. He could never, I don’t think, have accepted what I was. He would have tried, but... Whereas you... you have never doubted me because of my blood.”

He gave her a worried look. “Is... is that why you...”

Her eyes widened. “Oh Coran, no! By the heavens, no! I mean... well, all I meant was that it just felt like an additional sign, if that makes sense, that... that what we had was special.”

“It will take time, you know,” he warned. “It would be... a mistake, to rush anything.”

“You have a lot to try to accept now,” she said, understandingly.

“You had a lot to accept before, and you did,” he reminded her. “It is just... I need to get used to it. To all of it. But I will. I am sure I will – Hanali will guide me.”

Maiyn smiled at him. “I hope so.”

They stared at each other for a few long moments, before Maiyn looked away, suddenly bashful.

“Ask me again what you asked earlier,” he said suddenly.

She looked at him in puzzlement, before realising what he meant. “Oh,” she said, her voice slightly shaky. “You asked where I saw myself in a year, and I asked... I asked you the same in return?”

This time, when he smiled at her, his smile was as warm as she remembered from their nights in Baldur’s Gate, and his eyes were as sparkling as when she remembered him whispering quiet encouragements in the evenings before they’d fall asleep in each others arms.

“I,” he said slowly, “can see myself with you, in the house by the lake. I can see us as we repair the roof, and trim the unruly garden. I can see us sitting on the banks of the shore, fishing under the sun. I can see us sheltered in its walls when the winter storms roll across. Is that what you’d like to see?”

She nodded, chewing her lip as she watched him. He raised her hand to his lips and placed the gentlest of kisses on her skin.

“Then, let us take things as they come, and when the moment is right, we will both know it. Until then... know that you still are, and always will be my mela en’ coiamin. My trusted friend, my loyal companion. My beautiful, good, kind Maiyn.”

As they stood up, he drew her into a tight embrace, feeling her shiver slightly as a breeze whipped its way down the hillside. Wordlessly, he unclasped his cloak, swirling it around her shoulders before she could even protest, and securing it firmly in place at the hollow of her neck. And then he let his hands drift upwards, cupping her face as their eyes remained locked together. She saw him move closer, and willed him to do so, despite their agreement; but then he stopped, gave a small laugh, and pulled himself away, throwing one arm around her shoulder as they made their way back towards their horses.

“Ah, Maiyn, you were surely put on this world to test me,” she heard him sigh. She couldn’t help but smile to herself.

--

“Dare I ask where you… found such a thing?”

He’d tried not to ask, despite himself, but it was no use. Imoen had gleefully shown him the dazzling jewel first thing that morning, having been up and about hours before he’d even awoken. She’d hurried him to have his breakfast, and then dragged him down to the Bridge District to meet with Faraji. The boy had not yet arrived, though.

“The rogue stone?” Imoen asked, shielding her eyes from the sun as she peered along the street impatiently. She then levelled a hurt expression at the priest. “You think I stole it, don’t you?”

He winced at her words. “Ah, no, that’s not what I thought at all,” he said somewhat unconvincingly. “I mean, perhaps you had… borrowed it from somewhere, or some such-“

“I got it from Ribald,” she replied coolly, flicking her hair to the side as she tossed her head away from him. Yessie snorted in annoyance at her sudden movement, and leapt from her shoulder and onto a nearby windowsill. “He only had two in stock, but I managed to sell him some scrolls I’d scribed this morning to partly pay for it.”

Anomen closed his eyes. “I knew, of course-“

“No you didn’t!” she exclaimed, turning back on him with a mischievous glint in her eye. “Though if you can’t trust me, then how can you ever possibly introduce me to your peers, at garden parties and dinner engagements, like Sir Ajantis did with Bethany last night?”

Anomen’s eyebrow rose. “Does this mean that my Lady would wish for us to be so settled together… like the Lord and future Lady Ilvastarr?” He chuckled as Imoen’s cheeks pinked, and she gave him a sly wink.

“Well, you never know. And since I’m now one of Beth’s Maids of Honour, I’ll get to check out a proper noble wedding, and be properly prepared…”

Anomen kept smiling. “I… had not expected you to be a woman who would so easily contemplate the vows and sanctity of the married state,” he said quietly. “But it pleases me to realise that I was wrong.”

She grinned over to him, blowing him a kiss. “I’d never really thought about it,” she then admitted airily, shrugging in an exaggerated manner as she sauntered over to him. “But I don’t think the idea would be too unappealing, no…”

She stood on her tip-toes, and their lips gently brushed each other in a fond and brief embrace. And then she’d moved away again, her eyes roving through the crowds as they waited for Faraji to appear.

“I wonder what will become of your sister, Maiyn,” he mused thoughtfully, leaning back against the warm stone of the bakery. The smell of freshly baked bread was wafting around from the back of the store, and despite his breakfast, he was beginning to feel hungry. “Do you think she will find contentment of her own, despite everything?”

Imoen turned to face him, a half-puzzled, half-frowning look. “I… hadn’t really thought of it, much,” she finally admitted, moving over to sit down on one of the small ledges to his side. Her squirrel familiar wasted no time in bounding into her arms, looking up at the priest with a smug expression as the young mage gently rubbed around his neck. “I know she needed time to get her head sorted out, but I’d always assumed she was coming back here. You know? Like, we’d have a few weeks or maybe even months apart, and then… And then…”

“And then everyone would return together, ready to fight on?” he asked gently. She nodded. “To fight against what, Imoen? Sarevok is dead, and now Irenicus is dead. Short of seeking out your own glory, your days as an adventuring group may be-“

“Ended,” she finished for him, her voice soft, low and sad. She sighed heavily. “I know. I mean, deep down inside, I’d accepted it, but I kept thinking... there must be something else out there for us to be involved in.”

“It will not be that easy for Maiyn, now,” he reminded her. “She will have other priorities, and a life on the road is no real option for a mother.”

Imoen nodded. “When we found out about Coran’s daughter, I remember Khalid and Jaheira having all these hushed conversations with her, saying pretty much the same thing; but also that he, as the father, should be staying with his child, and Maiyn shouldn’t and couldn’t expect him to keep travelling with us. But he did, even when she’d resigned herself to the thought that she’d said goodbye to him for the last time. But… but this time, he’s not the father…”

Anomen reached out to take the girl’s hand in his own. “I am sure that even without adventures, the group will remain in frequent contact,” he said reassuringly – partly for Imoen’s sake, but also for his own. He considered them friends, now.

“I hope so,” she said, offering him a weak smile. “I think we’re pretty much stuck with Minsc being around, though at least he seems to have found something to keep himself busy with.”

Anomen chuckled. “Yes, the younger squires are fascinated by him,” he agreed. “And he is patient and gentle, and can give them all the time they could wish for when it comes to the basics of riding and tracking, when our more senior members and teachers are busy with their own unending campaigns.”

“And if Jaheira can become settled with Cernd’s druids, then she’s not that far away, either…” Imoen said, her voice more hopeful. “And Coran’s heart will, I think, always be settled in the Sword Coast, especially with Namara in Baldur’s Gate. A portal between there and here would be easily constructed, perhaps…”

“And will Maiyn settle there too?”

Imoen shrugged. “I don’t know. I hope so… For a while she said that she’d just leave, and head to the West when this was done, but that was before… before she realised she was going to have a child. I guess I don’t really know what she intends at all, any more.”

Anomen squeezed her hand comfortingly, but their shared melancholy was short lived, as Faraji came darting towards them, a large, beaming smile on his face. Yessie made a chattering noise, and scrambled up to perch on Imoen’s shoulder once again.

“Mornin’ Lady Imoen, Sir Anomen,” he said, effecting a quick bow. “I hope you haven’t been waitin’ there long!”

“Not at all,” Imoen smiled, hopping down from her seat and dragging a bemused Anomen along behind her. “Can you remember the way?”

The boy frowned slightly, biting his lip as he nodded. “Mostly, I can, as I said before. Shall I lead on?”

--

It was almost like being in another city.

Imoen had seen the poorer parts of Athkatla, or so she’d thought. The Slums were certainly not a pleasant place to live, especially if you ventured far past the Copper Coronet, and into the twisting alleys and back streets beyond. And from what she’d been told, despite the smell of fish that usually hung over the area, the Bridge District was seen as an acceptable area for a family of fairly good standing to set up home. It was a neighbourhood of guardsmen, merchants, fishermen and many hard-working halflings.

Or so it appeared on the exterior.

Faraji had led them down a few alleyways, further and further away from the main road that led through the district. The sound of jovial chatter and morning bartering was left behind, and the scent of fish was quickly replaced by an almost overwhelming smell of sewage. Eventually they’d found themselves standing at the edge of the river, directly above the sewer exit, and amidst a cluster of dilapidated houses and ruined outbuildings.

Faraji hadn’t been able to stay with them long; he could only remember the rough area where he’d mistakenly found the strange door, and despite having a quick look around, he failed to remember any more details. Imoen grinned, tossed him a coin and waved goodbye to him as he skipped away, then turned to see Anomen glowering at his surroundings darkly. This only caused her grin to widen.

“I take it you’ve never been to this part of the city before, then?” she asked teasingly. He wrinkled his nose.

“No, I most definitely have not. And I will be in no rush to return, I can assure you.”

She snorted slightly, then looked around at their surroundings once more. There were several small paths leading further into the squalid housing and any one of them could have been Faraji’s intended route. She cast a glance back towards the main roads, hidden behind warehouses and other buildings; if she’d just arrived here and was being chased, where would her instincts take her?

She pulled the gem bag free from her pouch, weighing it in her hand, and then she narrowed her eyes. “Anomen?”

“Yes?”

“Go back, a little – back to that red-bricked building. Can you see it?”

He nodded, throwing her a dubious look. “My Lady?”

She didn’t notice his use of the term. “I need you to go back there, and then… and then, run towards me! As if you’re chasing me!”

He shifted uncomfortably, his eyes darting around the seemingly abandoned area. “Will this be… absolutely necessary?” he queried.

She nodded, noticing him sighing heavily, and turning away from her with a resigned expression on his face. He trudged back to the building she’d pointed out to him, and then began to fidget with one of his gauntlets. Imoen looked around again, and then took several steps away from the houses and towards the priest. Then she waved over to him to get his attention, and nodded.

“Chase me!” she said.

He gave her an almost pleading look, but she replied wordlessly to it with a show of her large puppy eyes. He muttered something to himself, far too quietly for her to catch, and then began striding towards her quickly.

She turned and ran as Yessie scampered away, chattering angrily to himself.

Without thinking, she veered to the left as she ran into open space before the houses, jumping over a fallen over fence and having a quick look behind her to see where her pursuer was. Anomen had worked himself up into a sprint now, and Imoen’s adrenaline pumped a little faster.

She dodged around an old barrel, ducking in and behind a wagon covered with creeping vines. She had another quick look around; the path went on, winding its way past the back of the houses, and at least two more alleys sloped off into darkness.

But then she glanced to her right and saw a tiny crack in the wall – an almost impossibly small space between two houses that had been build so close to each other, they were almost touching. She became so busy peering into the opening that she jumped when a hand landed on her arm.

“Oh! Gods!” she exclaimed, clamping a hand across her mouth as she realised it was just Anomen. He gave her a bemused look, and then turned his head to face the crack as she waved her hand distractedly at it.

“I wouldn’t even have noticed it, I don’t think, had I not paused here for a bit of breath,” she stated thoughtfully. “This old wagon almost completely hides it.”

The knight nodded his agreement. “Do you think this is where Faraji went?” he asked.

Imoen had taken the gemstone from her pouch, and was peering down at it as it glinted lightly in her palm. She frowned. “I’m not sure,” she admitted. “I can’t feel anything…”

She clambered over the wooden tongue and inched her way into the small gap between the two walls. She hadn’t gone far before the gap opened up slightly, but there was so little light managing to reach into the area that she called up a small mage torch. And then she gasped.

She was in what appeared to be a tiny alcove-like area between the two houses, with two open exits leading away from it. The first was the one she’d squeezed through; judging by the noises coming from behind her, Anomen was struggling with the dimensions against his armour, and Yessie, having just arrived, was skittishly bounding around, chirping incessantly.

The other path was slightly wider, and disappeared off into the darkness in the opposite direction. She scouted over to have a closer look, but it turned abruptly to the right not far along and there was no way to tell where it went after that.

But Imoen had little urge to follow it quite at that moment; the stone in her hand had suddenly begun to feel very warm, and a glow was emanating from its surface. Not only that, but she was feeling the familiar tingle in the air of a magical presence. She turned back and looked at the innocent wooden door nestled into the corner of the alcove and usually shrouded by shadows.

She instinctively held out her hand with the rogue stone and walked towards it. Anomen had managed to catch up with her, and he hovered behind worriedly. The stone became hotter and hotter, and she was about to drop it before it scalded her skin, when it disappeared in a flash of light. An almost inaudible click could be heard, and the door opened, only moving the barest amount to signal the unlocking.

Imoen squealed quietly, beaming back towards Anomen as she reached over to the door, slowly pulling it open and peering in. It was completely dark, and even as she ushered her torch forward to try and dispel the darkness, the shadows seemed to swallow the meagre provision of light easily.

“Rats,” she muttered to herself, scrambling around in her pocket for one of her spare infravision rings.

“Are you sure this is wise, Imoen?” Anomen asked. He sounded highly concerned.

“It’s only a door,” she said easily, slipping her ring on her finger, and narrowing her eyes as she peered into the darkness. “I can’t see much though… I’ll just go a bit closer, but I won’t actually go in…”

“Imoen!” Anomen hissed his warning, but she ignored him, moving forward cautiously until she was able to crane her neck around the wooden frame and into the strange building.

“I can really feel the magic here,” she said, a certain amount of glee in her voice. “It must be the place! Everything about it feels so right… Should we go in?”

Anomen looked horrified. “Absolutely not!” he exclaimed. “My Lady Imoen, I must object-“

“Wait!” she called, holding a hand up to him. “The magic… it’s… fading?” she said, sounding disappointed. Then she darted to the side, reaching further into the darkness.

“Imoen!” Anomen cried.

“The door’s beginning to close,” she said, but even her voice felt muffled by the darkness. “I think it’s on a timer… if it closes, it might not open again without another stone!”

“I think you should come back, away from it,” the priest said firmly, reaching over to her. His hand only just managed to brush past her arm, however, as she suddenly stumbled forward, a small shriek escaping from her lips.

“Imoen!” he cried.

“Anom-“ The door slammed shut. “-en!” Her heart was beating faster than she could remember before. The impenetrable shadows seemed to lift, and with the sight given to her by her magical ring, she lunged for the handle and desperately tried to push the door open.

It was firmly closed tight.

Suddenly her throat went very dry, and she hesitantly turned around to see what lay ahead of her. She realised she was standing in a bare stone entrance hall, and one single doorway led away, a spiral staircase leading down to the lower floors.

She gave one last look at the door, despairingly – Oh Anomen, I hope you get another stone and come back for me! – and then softly and slowly edged her way towards the steps.

--

The door slammed shut, and darkness surrounded Anomen as the mage light winked from existence. Something landed on his shoulder – he instinctively ducked, throwing himself to the side and reaching up to brush the attacker away, until he realised that the mournful whistling noise was also coming from the same area.

Yessie, he thought. She’s in there, alone…

He straightened himself up; reaching out to feel for the walls, to locate the crack they’d originally passed through. It seemed to take a lifetime, but eventually he was working his way through the gap once again, then stumbling over the wagon, and running a hand through his hair as he tried desperately to remember his way back to the main streets.

Yessie chirped, flying from Anomen’s shoulder and hitting the ground at a fast bound. The knight wasted no time in rushing after the creature, thankful that at least one of them was able to find their way away – and hopefully back to – the house.