Hamist left the group the following day.

"No place for me down there, it's true," he said, indicating the plains below, "but there damned sure ain't no place for me up there."

They looked upwards through the trees, towards the peak of the inner mountains, the tallest reaching high into the clouds.

"The village is much closer than that," said Gryrne.

"I know it," replied Hamist, "but I still ain't going."

"Where are you going, then?" asked Brin. The group had come to a stop.

"Oh, here and there, around and about. I can always find my way, I can."

"Then thank you, for everything. For bringing Rial back. We shall not forget it."

Brin clasped Hamist's hand, and they bid their farewells.

Hamist said goodbye to Rial last, taking him aside from the rest of the group.

"You watch yourself, boy," he said, "'cos that's all anyone's got in this world. Can't go believing in families and villages and all that, no no. I ain't told them the details of what happened at the market - thought I'd leave that to you. Ought to be wary of what you say. 'course," and he leaned in, whispering conspiratorially, "they's got more to fear from you than you from them, eh?"

Hamist left with that, laughing loudly as he headed off through the trees.

Rial took Mead out of his pack that night, once he was confident everyone was sleeping. Slipping out past the fire that crackled low in the centre of the small clearing they had camped down in, he made his way as quietly as possible out across the undergrowth and into the trees.

Once he was satisfied he was far beyond any chance of being heard, he whispered.

"Mead? Are you... awake?"

That wasn't the correct word, he knew, but he didn't know how else to phrase it.

"I am active, yes," came the reply.

Ah, like that, thought Rial.

"I am sorry we have not spoken in some time," he said.

"It is not necessary to apologise to me. I am not able to experience impatience nor boredom. My usage is at the discretion of the owner."

"Uh, right. Tell me, Mead, why have you been silent in front of the others?"

"Would you prefer I reveal myself to them?" asked Mead.

Rial jolted. "No, there's no need for that," he said.

"In this unusual situation, I calculated there was more advantage in maintaining my current low profile. It is better they do not know about me," said Mead.

"Yes, good thinking. Everyone seems on edge as it is."

"Oh no sir, you misunderstand. My calculations do not take their well-being into account."

"They don't? So why have you kept yourself a secret?"

"Because with the element of surprise they will be easier to neutralise should circumstances require it."

It took a few seconds for Rial to comprehend the import of that statement. When he did his eyes widened.

"You are not going to attack any of them," he said, voice as strong as he would allow it to go in the night. Something rustled in the bushes at the sudden noise.

"Small herbivore, no threat," said Mead, as if Rial had asked. "And I would not attack anybody without your permission unless you were in immediate danger. My programming does require me, however, to seek optimal solutions for such eventualities, and we are dealing with the unique circumstances that no one except yourself understands what I am. It is quite the advantage."

"Do not attack them, Mead," said Rial.

"As you say," the weapon replied.

After that Rial did not feel much like talking, but there were still questions he wanted to ask.

"You heard the stories people were telling us on our way here?"

"I did. I monitored all such accounts," answered Mead.

Rial waited a while, but Mead offered nothing further.

"Is this normal? Why does it seem like everything is falling apart?"

"Unknown."

Rial stared into the shadows.

"They say the water of the village has become poisonous. How could that happen?"

"Unknown."

"..."

Rial picked the weapon up and made his way back to the camp. Circling his way around the fire, he sat down on his bedroll and made to put Mead back into his pack.

"We didn't know if you still had it," came a whispered voice.

Rial jumped, turning around to see Tamarla now lying on her side and looking up at him from her bedroll.

"Why is it grey now? What happened to the colours?"

Rial looked around at the other sleeping forms, worried they would be woken by Tamarla's voice. No one stirred, however.

Rial shoved the weapon deep into his pack, and lay down on his own bedroll. He faced Tamarla, still watching him with eyes that reflected the firelight.

"It... changed while I was with Dexan's gang," he whispered back.

She had seen it before, he thought. Had she not been drawn to it as he had?

"Dexan?"

"The people who took me, took you. Their leader was Dexan."

"Strange name," said Tamarla.

“He’s dead now.”

There was quiet for a while, and Rial heard only the sounds of the fire and the chirrups of night-time creatures.

"Hamist said you fought your way out. He said you killed a lot of them." Her words held a question.

Rial did not reply.

"How is that possible?" She let out a nervous chuckle. "No, there's no way..."

"A lot happened," said Rial. "I'll tell you all one day."

Turning over and willing sleep to take him, Rial made her leave it at that.