Kite’s chosen route was complicated, crossing several worlds in an attempt to avoid any undue attention when they finally entered Dunburgh. For all her worries, she found comfort in the familiar routine of travel and distraction in the experience of new places. The longest they spent in one world was five days walking between two natural gates. They could have gone directly, but she found herself reluctant to ask that of Saryth, even though the walk took considerably longer than his usual recovery time. For all that Pyetr had said to hurry, for all the need Harien faced... this was the last time she had to enjoy the worlds before she faced Vorannen, and she could not bring herself to shorten it.

Even so, arriving at Corindale was a relief, just because it meant she hadn’t lost the way. They’d entered the forest the day after they came through the gate, and spent three days walking through it until Kite was heartily sick of trees and just a little worried that she’d missed some subtle turn or branch in the road. But that morning the path had started to climb, and she and Saryth had walked faster, spurred on by its increasing gradient, until at last they climbed up above the treetops at a steep angle, out into the open air. The sun shone warmly down on the top of the hill, which was covered in grass and scattered with bright flowers. Butterflies filled the air with dancing colour and bees droned through the warm summer afternoon, intent on their mission hunting honey for their hives. The grass swished dryly past her feet as Kite walked to the top and paused, looking over the other side of the hill.

The valley beyond was filled not with trees but rows of houses, the outer ones bordered by neat rectangles of kitchen gardens and orchards. There was a square in the middle of the town, surrounded by imposing buildings with a centrepiece of a statue and what was probably a fountain. The houses and shops spread out from the square in a tangle of streets and alleyways and occasionally bridges, some from what looked like the top floor of one house to the second floor of another. People were everywhere, running, walking, in groups and alone, housewives out shopping and gossipping, children running errands and men at work. Women leaned out of windows to call cheerfully across to a friend in the opposite house, and children shrieked at play, scampering across the narrow bridges and through the crowd. The hum of people at business and pleasure rose even to the height of the surrounding hills, where Kite and Saryth stood, taking it all in. The sunlight lent a warm glow to the red tiled roofs and glinted off the play of the central fountain and the gold worn by the men standing near it. Kite paused, watching the scene closely, caught by the incongruity. Several men, stood to attention by the fountain, wearing metal. Men at arms, on business. As she watched, two more emerged from the benign chaos surrounding the exits to the square and ran up to a man standing slightly apart. He gestured them back into position, and two more men fanned out from the column in different directions. They were searching.

"What do you think they’re doing?" she mused, as Saryth came up to stand next to her. He watched the activity of the little troop as more searchers were sent out.

"I have no idea," he said after a few minutes. "Looking for something?"

"Or someone." Kite folded her arms.

“You don’t think they’re looking for us?”

“Not unless you’ve done something I don’t know about.” She was joking, but he took it seriously.

"The only people we've spoken to since we got to this world are the people in the village and that old traveller. I've hardly said anything."

"Well, if they're looking for us, we're not there, and if they're not, it doesn't matter," she said finally. "I think we'd better have a break for an hour or two and then head down - we could do with an inn and maybe we can find out what's going on. Not that it matters that much, if it's nothing to do with us - the gate is only about one more day's travel away."

Saryth said nothing, but moved over to the right of the path where a sandy hollow was screened from view by low-lying gorse bushes. Kite joined him as he sat down and lay back, heedless of the sand his long hair was about to acquire. More careful, Kite pillowed her head on her cloak, and stared at the sky, which was a clear, deep, cloudless blue.

"This is a really pretty world," she remarked lazily.

"Mmmm." Saryth had already dozed off.

By the end of the afternoon, the colour of the sky had deepened and some clouds had drifted across its expanse, moved by a wind that was beginning to pick up. The air was cooler, and Kite, waking up, became aware that the top of the hill was not such a warm and restful place to be any more. She stood up, stepped over Saryth who still slept curled in the sand with his head pillowed on his hands, and walked over to take a look at the town. The activity had died down a little but not much; the square still bustled and the glints of light were still visible, but only off the water this time. She watched the town for long enough that Saryth woke up and came to stand beside her shaking sand out of his long hair, but she saw no red coats, no soldiers.

"Are they gone?"

"I think so." She looked sideways at him retying his ponytail which had fallen apart in loose white snarls. Belatedly, she pushed a hand through her own hair and realised that while she may have escaped the sand, her plaits were also a mess. They could wait. "Shall we go down?"

The town was as lively close to as it had appeared from a distance, and no-one paid any attention to them, which was a relief. The street they came in on was narrow, leading to the main square and itself full of shops, some accessed through others, some on the first floor with small staircases bolted onto the facades of their neighbouring shops. Each front was small, and each shop kept wares outside to advertise, making the narrow street even narrower. The crowd jostled and surged around the more popular shops, probably near closing time now. Pushed this way and that by the enthusiastic crowd, Kite spotted a shop that looked like it sold travel goods and shoved back hard enough to open a way to it.

Inside, the shop stretched back a way, offering plenty of things to pick from. After travel food, Kite found two aisles displaying crackers, dried fruit, what looked like waybread and even travel cheese, which she'd never come across before, plus several things she couldn't at first identify. She hovered over them, assessing cost and weight and how much she could fit into the little bags she stored food in. She ought to get some for Saryth, really. Next time I go home.

Two shelves away, Saryth was musing over a small row of books, each one battered and travel-stained. Most of their titles were illegible, their complicated script beyond the capabilities of the language charm, but that wouldn't stop him trying; ever since the geneticist from Uamut had given him that data stick, he'd been eager to learn more. It was unlikely he'd find any interesting lore in that lot, though. The one title she could read said, "Legends of the Black Moor."

She paused, her hands full of travel food and her staff tucked in her elbow. Was there anything else? The aisles of food had been thoroughly picked over, and there wasn't much else in the shop she could see that they needed. Although it's always what you don't expect that you need. She picked her way through crowded racks to the little counter at the back of the shop, where a wrinkled old man grinned at her and several shelves piled high with ropes and what appeared to be varieties of climbing tackle threatened to overbalance and deluge her in more merchandise. She dumped the items she wanted on the counter, and the shopkeeper started to add up on an old abacus sitting on the surface. Kite loved the way abacuses worked, although she'd never mastered the swift use of one herself; she looked closer, watching the proprietor's fingers flicker over the beads and approximating the mental arithmetic in her head. I suppose they don't haggle here, then.

"Um, no. I, er..." At the sound of Saryth's voice, quiet but shot through with alarm, Kite turned round, making a mental note of where the sum had got to. Her companion was standing with his back to the shelf of books he'd been examining, wearing an alarmed expression. In front of him, with her back to the counter, stood a blonde girl. Kite couldn't see her face, but from behind she looked pretty; slender, with long hair intricately braided down her back. She wore an attractive deep red jerkin, in a colour not too far from that of Kite's tunic.

"Oh, but men who appreciate learning are so much more fun to be with," the girl said teasingly. Her tone was lost on Saryth, who went paler than ever and would have backed up more if he had been able to. Kite almost swallowed her tongue trying not to laugh out loud. "Don't you think so, Rishan?" She directed the question to a red-haired man standing by the shop front, and he turned round. He wore an angry expression and he did not look like a man to annoy; he was tall and muscular and there was a well-used sword hanging discreetly at his side. He narrowed one eye at the girl; the other remained closed.

"Are you done, lady?"

She pouted. "Don't call me that." Then she turned back to Saryth. "I'm so sorry, I have to go. So nice talking to you," and she patted his arm - Saryth flinched - and flounced away, unrepentant. She caught the red-haired swordsman by the arm and pulled him out of the shop, chattering inanely but managing to avoid every precariously piled heap of goods. Saryth stared after her, his expression confused and slightly spooked.

"That's an eagle and four ponies," the shopkeeper announced from behind Kite. Saryth swung round and met her gaze, and Kite could not hide her amusement. A second later, he also grinned somewhat sheepishly. Kite turned round to pay, and realised she'd completely lost count of where she had been in her mental arithmetic.

She stuffed her purchases into the appropriate bags as she made their way down the still-crowded street. Overhead, the light had begun to fade from the sky as the evening came on, and a few shops had put lanterns outside. Obviously they did not all close at dusk.

"Are we going to get an inn tonight?" Saryth asked, looking round in hope of finding one.

"I'd like to. It would be good to get clean again." Kite pushed the last chunk of travel cheese into the top pocket and laced it shut, pulling the waterproofing flap down and toggling it tight over the opening. "There might be some inns round the main square." She picked up her pace, and he matched it, and they walked into the main square at the same time as the group of horsemen clattered into it from the northern avenue. Kite stopped and Saryth faltered, but the captain of the militia did not.

"Over there!" He gestured towards them, spurring his mount. Behind him, his ten men complied, urging their horses after their commander's. Where did they come from? Kite hesitated, still unsure if they were truly the targets. After all, they hadn't done anything.

"The blonde girl in red!" The captain added as the horses clattered across the square. Well, yes, that would be us. Me.

"Kite?" Saryth's voice was quiet but not nervous. "I can't use an illusion, they're looking at us.." And they couldn't run, not with horses after them and the crowd so thick at their backs. Kite swung round and gave him a shove.

"Get out of here! They've only identified me so far, and there's no point us both being caught." Saryth obeyed, stepping back into the eager crowd and even as he went she saw his hands flicker, redirecting the crowd's attention to her, pushing the suggestion that no-one else was with her. She swallowed.

"You. Come with us." The captain was curt but not harsh, a tall man, travel stained and tired looking, as though he'd ridden hard.

"What am I accused of?" Kite asked.

"Stop playing games, lady." He bent down and grabbed her staff, tossed it to another soldier. Kite caught her breath, reluctant to lose it yet again. Another soldier cantered up behind her.

"I've searched, captain, but no sign of him."

"Where's your companion?" The captain asked, his manner again not quite rude, but tinged with impatience and irritation.

"I'm on my own," Kite said, which was the strict truth at the present time. She didn't look into the crowd, avoiding paying any attention to Saryth even if the captain could have spotted him.

"Your companion, lady. A one-eyed man. We know he helped you." Kite stared at the captain, and remembered the encounter in the shop. Suddenly, the whole thing fell a little more into place, and she struggled to hold back incongruous laughter. They had the wrong blonde girl and one-eyed companion.

"I'm sorry," she said, "but you have the wrong person. I'm not who you're looking for."

"Of course not." The captain's tone had gone all the way to anger now. He stretched down and grabbed her wrist, hauling her up in front of him and putting his arm around her to hold the reins. Kite gaped at the sudden manhandling as he pulled his horse's head around and urged the beast on. "Well, we can find him later. I'd prefer it if you didn't cause any more trouble, but if you do, I will deal with you."

Kite sat still, believing him.

Back in the square, the crowd milled around in the wake of the armed troop's departure, jostling each other and talking in subdued tones. Saryth slowly let the subtle whispers of his spell fade, no longer necessary once the militia had gone, and backed into a corner. He'd heard what the captain said, and he'd made the connections to the overly friendly girl in the shop, but there was obviously more to the story than all that. He frowned to himself, considering options, then turned to push through the crowd back towards the alley they'd come from. If he could find that girl and her red-haired guard, he might be able to get some answers before he went after Kite, and the more information he had, the better.

He didn't have much of an idea of where to search for them, because he hadn't seen them after they'd left the shop and vanished into the swirling mass of people. However, if they were fugitives they probably wouldn't have hung around, and the alley the shop was in was one which led to the outside, so he retraced his own steps back up the hill, looking for a blonde girl and a one-eyed man.

He found them seated in the same sandy niche in which he and Kite had dozed just earlier this afternoon. He didn't try to hide his presence, but time spent with Kite had taught him quiet movement, the better to appreciate the surroundings, and his quarry didn't notice him approach until he was close. The red-haired man whirled round, his expression angry, and before Saryth could even say anything, the edge of that sword was held before him, if not quite at his throat. The man regarded him flatly, while the girl, slower to respond, jumped up behind him, eyes wide with surprise. Then she giggled.

"Put it down, Rishan. He's a friend."

The man ignored her completely, staring fixedly at Saryth. "What do you want, boy?"

"Information."

"About what?" The girl's tone was coy, teasing again, but Saryth pushed all that aside. This was important.

"About you."

"Why?" Rishan kept his sword up, wary, neither pleased nor flattered.

Saryth sighed, feeling suddenly very tired. "Because I think my friend has been captured in your place," he said. "Armed men on horses came looking for a blonde girl in red, accompanied by a one-eyed man. They caught my friend, but I don't think we are the people they're looking for. You also fit the description, so I was wondering if there's anything you can tell me that would help."

In the silence that followed, Rishan did not drop the blade entirely but he did remove it from its close proximity to Saryth’s neck. The girl came closer, eyes wide. She touched her protector's arm.

"Rishan..."

"Lady." He stayed on guard. She turned away, irritated, and looked back at Saryth, still standing at bay if somewhat less menaced. He could tell from her assessing gaze that she didn’t think him much of a threat. That’s fine.

"Why don't you eat with us?" she invited, ignoring Rishan's irritated sigh. Saryth hesitated, then smiled.

"Thank you," he said.

The meal she offered was dry biscuit, cheese and cold meat, with wine to wash it down, which Saryth avoided as much as possible. It was an odd meal, accompanied by her high-speed chatter and the grim wariness of her silent guardian, who had left his unsheathed blade on the sand between him and his charge, and their visitor.

"Tell us about yourself, then," the girl said, with a teasing flash of smile. “And your friend. Is she pretty?"

"I'm Saryth. I'm travelling with my friend, looking for the sun.” He didn’t miss the surprise and sudden interest on her face. “But you haven't given me your names, yet."

"Ah - I'm Terithia Anstrom, and this is Rishan Torvilson." She edged forward and fixed him with a determined stare. "You haven't answered my other questions. Your friend - is she pretty?" She put her head on one side and smiled winsomely. "Prettier than me?"

Saryth flushed, and ducked his head behind his hair, feeling the same rush of embarrassment he had in the shop. He pushed the feeling away, annoyed with himself. "She's slightly shorter than I am, and slim. She has short blonde hair and braids by the side of her face, and wears a red tunic and a black cloak. I've known her for over a year now. Her name's Kite."

For some reason, the girl - Terithia - scowled at him, but at that point Rishan butted in, and she subsided.

"So, what do you want to know?" he asked.

Saryth gathered his thoughts. "I want to be able to rescue her," he said. "I'd prefer to do that with as little fuss or fighting as possible, and the easiest thing to do would be to explain that there's been a mistake. For that, I need to know the situation. However -" he broke off as Rishan shifted forwards, an ugly look on his face in the evening light. "I appreciate you don't want to be caught either so whatever you can tell me would be useful," he finished hurriedly. Rishan sat back, scowling still.

"Can you even fight at all?" Terithia asked curiously. She clearly didn't think it likely.

"I'd rather not."

There was a pause, as all three parties weighed up what was needed and what might be possible. The stars had begun to prick the sky above the town, small spots of brightness in deep blue-purple velvet, and the town itself had lit up, mirroring the stars, as citizens lit lanterns in order to continue their business - and pleasure. Terithia shifted, breaking the silence, and Rishan abruptly stood up.

"We'd better be going," he said. He didn't even look at his mistress as he bent over the remains of their picnic, tidying away any sign they'd been there with a swift and practiced hand. "We can't afford to stay here. I'm sorry about your friend, but we really must be going."

While the last was aimed at Saryth, Rishan didn't look in his direction. Saryth shrugged, and stood up.

"Thank you for the food and hospitality," he said, "and for the information." He would have moved away then, but Terithia stepped forward, halting him mid-turn.

"Will you - will Kite be all right?" she asked, her voice subdued.

"I'll explain there's been a problem," Saryth said. "I'm sure the commander will understand." He left them there, heading back down to the town again. When he looked back, just before entering the narrow streets, he could just about make out two figures walking away over the hills.

Saryth found the soldiers with no difficulty; they were ensconced in one of the inns off the main square. Inside, through the windows, the taproom was full of men off-duty, while at the door, two guards stood watch, steadfastly ignoring the merriment of their comrades. The innkeeper and two barmaids ran around inside the frenzy, just about keeping up with the demands.

He spent a while watching, but the men at the door seemed neither particularly alert nor lazy; well-trained soldiers not expecting an attack. But then, he wasn't intending to attack. Simply walking up to them and asking to see their commander was probably the best thing to do, but he found it hard to start moving. Past experience with soldiers knotted his stomach and quickened his breathing, and nervousness would only make them suspicious. He leaned his head back against the wall he stood by, staring at the narrow band of sky directly above him, and breathed slowly, but in the end, he moved simply because to stay staring at the sky would be to let Kite down, and that became more important than his fear.

The soldiers could see him coming from a distance, and there was no need to hide. Trying to conceal his nervousness in clenched fists and behind the curtain of white hair that partly masked his face, he walked straight up to the soldiers, without hesitation.

"Yes?" the taller soldier standing to the right asked, studying the stranger curiously.

"I'd like to speak to your commander, please," Saryth said, as politely as he could manage. The soldier glanced at his companion, and shrugged minutely.

"I'll see if he's available," he said, and knocked on the door behind. It opened, and a younger recruit stuck his head through, red hair ruffled as though he'd shoved his cap on hastily.

"Sir?" he said, then his eyes fell on Saryth. "Oh, sir! Isn't that him?"

Saryth felt his stomach turn, and inadvertently he backed away a little. The two guards, at ease until his movement, instinctively stiffened and moved forward to flank him, awakening panic he knew was irrational.

"What do you mean, Edgar?" the first soldier said, not taking his eyes from his quarry. Saryth forced himself to stand still, quelled the trembling where he could and hiding his hands when he couldn't.

"Weren't we looking for a one-eyed man too?" the recruit said, innocent in his eagerness to prove himself, to make up for his stint on the door away from his drinking companions.

"We were, but -" The second guard hesitated. The first did not, stepping further round Saryth, stopping him from retreating any further, and accelerating his rising panic.

"Edgar."

The recruit, summoned, came forward, completing the triangle. He may have been new at his trade, but he knew how to use the short sword he carried, and the threat in his face only made the bland, unworried faces of the other guards more disturbing. They circled him, and the first guard made as if to say something, but Saryth felt fear rising in his throat, clamped on his back, tightening its hold on him until, with an effort, he threw it away from him and towards his tormentors, behind and before him. Magic swarmed through the night, shaped only by his panic, leaving white fire and sparks in its wake, a mark of uncontrolled force. Saryth hunched halfway over, trying to pull it inside again, but it was too late; it splashed across the cobbles and accelerated between the two older men, knocking both off their feet. It arced across the square and dissipated into the night, leaving him with a hole in their circle, a way out to flee, a path away from Kite and away from any chance he might have had to fix the situation peacefully.

Rain misted over the town square, frosting the guards with tiny droplets which sparkled in the lamplight in mockery of their disgruntled expressions. There were three now, in case the mage came back; they peered into the night and at carefully selected random intervals one of them went on patrol around the building, but most of the time they huddled beneath the inadequate porch and waited out their shift with the stoic patience of long-term veterans.

The guards in the inn were luckier, even the two still on duty by Kite’s door. At least they were warm and dry. Kite had been drifting in and out of sleep after finishing the simple but adequate food the innkeeper had brought her. There didn't seem to be much else to do, and she wanted to be rested, but actually sleeping was difficult. The room she was in was a standard inn room, furnished with a small bed, a rug on the floor and a somewhat rickety table which kept her company with creaks and groans. Perhaps she'd become too used to sleeping with another person in the room. The table was a poor substitute for Saryth, its shifting creaking unlike his quiet, sleepy breathing.

By the time the door opened, she had concocted four reasonably sensible plans for escape, six silly ones and three that would have been a lot of fun but probably wouldn't have got her very far. She was partway through her fourth when the door swung inwards, revealing two guards and the troop commander, who ducked into the small room and shut the door behind him. He placed her cloak and bags on the table, then eyed her warily, although she hadn't moved a muscle.

"Do come in," Kite said, feeling mischievous. "I'd offer you a seat, but alas..." She waved her hand at the small room and its conspicuous lack of seating. The man stiffened, his face carefully blank.

"I apologise for the lack of comfort, my lady," he said, his tone carefully, tightly subservient. "It is far from what would befit you, but it is all that is available in such a small, frontier town as this."

Kite gaped at him internally, careful to keep her surprise from her face. Where had that come from? Had that girl in red been truly high-born? She hadn't acted it. The commander didn't say anything for a space, and she guessed that perhaps she had been meant to say something. Still - she didn't know what, and she didn't want to play along. This was, after all, just a case of mistaken identity. She hoped Saryth wouldn't - hadn't - done anything stupid.

After an uncomfortably long pause, the man spoke again. "My lady, I wouldn't trouble you normally, but I must ask you some questions." He stopped, waiting for her compliance. Kite didn't like it, didn't like being treated like a noble, but she knew the quickest way to convince him of the noble blood she didn't possess was to protest that he had the wrong person.

"Please," she said instead, wondering if her accent was anything like that of the person she was supposed to be.

"My men were attacked by a one-eyed man - a mage - two hours ago," the commander said, and she felt her stomach clench. She did not manage to keep the shock - and worry - from her face, for he hastened to reassure her. "He is gone, my lady! However, he is not the man we thought had kidnapped you. He has white hair -" oh, Saryth, what have you done this time? "- and your kidnapper has red hair, isn't that so?"

Kite didn't respond, unsure of what to answer and now preoccupied with worrying about her impetuous companion. Had he been hurt? Had he hurt anyone?

"Do you know this mage?" the commander persisted. "My lady -"

"I'm not your lady," Kite said finally, no other way out in sight. "You've got the wrong person. I'm sorry. I don't know any red-haired, one-eyed kidnappers, and I'm not a noble."

The man stiffened, looking abruptly outraged. He began to speak, then paused, breathed, and started again, obviously biting back anger.

"Don't insult my intelligence, my lady. We know who you are." It's a pity I don't, then. "If you will not tell me the truth, then you can stay in this little inn until your father comes. Will you deny him, to his face?"

"Yes," Kite said, tired and irritated and knowing all too well that this was not going to help. "As he will me. I'm not who you think I am!"

"Whatever you say, my lady, my men will protect you. From the kidnapper - or accomplice - to this mage. Have no fear. None can get in - and none out!" He turned and yanked open the door, strode out and slammed it behind him. On the bed, Kite slumped against the wall that was the only bedstead. What had this girl done? The man had been offended to his very core. And where was Saryth?

Tired and worried, she squirmed round to lie on the bed, and tried to think over her more sensible escape plans, but instead they meandered to the back of her mind as she drifted into restless, uneasy sleep.

The rain passed and was gone, replaced by swift-moving clouds that alternately hid and revealed the moon. Opposite the inn, Saryth lurked in darkness, masking his presence with magic that was almost but not quite an illusion, shifting uneasily and not sure of what to do next. He had no idea which room Kite was in, and the soldiers on the door remained alert despite the late hour. Worse, the lights in the inn were extinguished so he couldn't even rely on their night blindness. Maybe the inn had a back door?

He left the shadows of the alleyway, choosing to walk quietly and quickly across the rain-slippery cobbles of the main square, his appearance hidden by an illusion. He hid his shadow as well, having learnt about that the hard way. As conspicuous as he felt, the soldiers' idle gazes never caught him no matter how often they looked in his direction, and he reached the other side of the building without incident.

He found there a kitchen door, locked but not bolted. Picking locks was something he'd learned from Kite, in between the lessons in magic, self-defence and the structure of the universe, but it was a lot harder doing it in real life in the dark, holding the illusion steady and detailed and trying to breathe quietly, aware that any minute now one of the guards would come round on his patrols. The little pick slipped and skidded inside the clumsy lock, and his fingers froze and trembled, making it near impossible to control. His breath shook and his hair fell across his eyes, but he didn't take the time to push it back. Just as he thought he had it, the guard walked by, moving quietly, catching him unawares, and Saryth had no choice but to freeze in the shadows and hope that the illusion held. The guard walked by the overhung door without stopping, but Saryth waited for a ten minute eternity before bending back to the lock. Eventually it sprang, and he eased the door open and slipped through, closing it behind him with a sigh of relief.

Inside was what looked like a storeroom, full of dry sacks with lumpy items in. Whatever they were - and he was betting on potatoes - they were hard enough to hurt in a collision. But the sacks were piled high around a narrow path that led from the back door to another inside door, and he passed through without any more hassle from the potatoes. The kitchen on the other side was small and full of crockery and cutlery, piled high in dirty heaps where the harrassed staff had not had time to wash up yet. Two big barrels of water stood by one sink, with pans soaking in them, and overhead, spoons hung like a trap, ready to jangle if an intruder walked into them. Saryth avoided them easily but almost fell prey to the cat curled up by the stove, twitching its tail into his path. He stopped, frozen, as it turned to look at him with malice in its big, golden eyes, but clearly he was not interesting enough, because it just turned back over and went to sleep.

Outside the kitchen was a small corridor with a rug over the stone flags, and stairs leading up. There were no guards here, nor any sign of them, but Saryth rewove his almost-illusion again, to misdirect the eye and fool it into seeing only shadow where he stood. He walked quietly up the narrow stairs, stepping to the side in an attempt to avoid any creaking. At the top of the stairs was a small landing, surrounded by doors, all looking the same, and he felt his heart sink before realising that Kite's room must have guards and therefore couldn't be any of these. He stepped back against one of the walls and tried to reconstruct the exterior of the inn in his mind, to judge where a corridor might be. The building had been elongated in roughly the north-south direction, and the kitchen was at the northern end; he stepped over to a door that led south and tried it gingerly, but it was locked. Letting out a tight breath, he tried the next one, opening it a crack to peer through, and that opened onto a corridor that led to another landing, and that landing had guards on it.

Saryth shut the door quickly and leaned back against the wall again, catching his breath. What now? The guards were alert and awake, and unlikely to be fooled by any normal illusion. He absolutely didn't want to cause a fuss, he just wanted to get Kite and himself away from there as soon as possible, to get back on their journey again. Not for the first time, he muttered imprecations against his own lack of self control - had he not lost it in the square earlier, they might be on their way by now. He tipped his head back and it landed on glass; the window opened onto the square. Could he climb out and back into Kite's room? Was that even her room?

He turned to look out of the window again, and frowned. He couldn't make himself disappear, but maybe making himself appear would be just as good? And much easier. Down below, the square lay quiet, wet cobbles glistening in the moonlight. The fountain splashed spray over its sides, and every now and then, a guard walked out from the wall and turned to go round the inn. Saryth smiled to himself.

It was a very easy thing to do to project the image of himself into the square, even from the different perspective of the upper landing. He heard the shouts as the guards ran forward after the elusive, white-cloaked figure pausing in the shadow of the nearby alleyway, and he saw them run forward. The figure turned and started running, around the square, away from the inn, and at least one guard gave chase. More importantly, through the door he heard low-voiced talk; the two watching Kite's room knew he was down there, running across the square.

He broke off the illusion when the figure reached 'safety', and leaned back against the wall to take a breath. It had been harder than expected, but as long as he moved quickly, the guards by Kite's door would not be expecting to see him, and the illusion should hold against their sight. Saryth eased down the corridor, moving as silently as he could, inching forward until he stood only two feet from the two guards. They sat either side of Kite's door, on small stools, an indulgence he hadn't seen before in any military situation. Both appeared awake but bored, lit by a single lamp on the wall opposite, whose shadows were highly inconvenient for his illusion. Kite's door was shut but bore no lock, which was a relief. He didn't feel his luck was up to picking another one.

He moved forward, redirecting the shadows with some effort, until he stood between the guards, in front of the door. For a moment, he hesitated. Kite had shown him this move before, but it was different in a real situation, against two men either of whom looked more than capable of causing him real physical harm if he gave them a chance. Then the strain of the illusion bore on him, and he brought his hands down simultaneously, one to either side, on the backs of the guards' heads. At the last minute, panicking, he dropped the illusion to add arcane force, and the impacts flared bright white, drowning out the lamp. The guards fell over into each other and onto his feet; he jumped backwards, losing his balance and crashing into the door, which creaked under the impact. Stumbling, he knelt down to examine his victims, placing his fingers below their chins to feel the pulse there. They were both out cold but breathing safely, and, relieved, he relaxed a little.

"Saryth?"

He jumped, turning round and losing his precarious balance as he did so, so that he fell backwards across the body of the left hand guard. In the doorway, Kite blinked at him and rubbed sleep from her eyes.

"What were you doing?"

"Um.." He gestured sheepishly to the guards, and a look of surprise flitted over her face.

"They're all right?"

"Only unconscious. Are you coming?"

"Yes!" She swung back into the room, and grabbed her cloak and bags. "Saryth, what happened earlier?"

He hung his head, hiding behind his hair, and looked away, not wanting to explain his lack of control and what it had led to. Kite finished buckling the bags on, and moved past him.

"Never mind," she said, making it not an issue, giving him the chance to put it aside for now. "Where do we go?"

Saryth took a deep breath, and pointed in the direction of the door, relinquishing control as he followed her out.

The stairs were unoccupied, but at least one of the guards who had held station by the front door would still be there. Kite obeyed Saryth's directions to the back door, running through the small kitchen and the potato sack obstacle course in the store room. The back door swung open, and she made for it even as Saryth slowed in concern. She turned as he hesitated, and so she saw the soldier behind him stand up from behind the treacherous potato sacks; a young recruit who had the fortunate good sense to use his unfamiliar, unpractised sword as a cudgel rather than risk the sharp end, but still -

"Saryth!"

He ducked, and the swing went over his head. The recruit overbalanced, dropping the sword and tripping over another potato sack, he fell headlong at Saryth's feet, which he promptly grabbed. Saryth in turn fell over, staying silent even as he landed on the potato-cobbled floor, and grabbed back at the recruit who held him. The recruit held on like grim death, and Saryth scrabbled at the clutching hands as soldiers pounded up and down the stairs and the innkeeper came out of his ground floor bedroom to enquire what was going on. Kite yanked the outside door shut as a patrol came past, looking for intruders, looking for her, and turned to see if she could help, but too late. The brief pulse of magic washed across her senses, with no external white flare, which meant he had kept it under control this time. The recruit lay on the floor, relaxed into sleep, and Saryth pulled himself free and followed her as she ran out the door.

They raced across the alleyway and lost themselves in the maze behind the inn, ducking into doorways when patrols came past, masked in the shadows cast by houses and doorways and Saryth's illusions. Thanks to his earlier efforts, most of the attention was on the square, but even so, it occasionally felt like the entire platoon was after them, and by the time they felt safe enough to take a break, they were thoroughly lost. Kite leaned back against the doorway in which she knelt, and exhaled slowly, calming her racing heart. Above her, Saryth tensed at a noise, but relaxed again as an urban fox skittered out of sight round a corner.

"You lost your staff," he said, and she flinched at the reminder. Not that she really needed it, with him there, but to lose what little capacity she had was unbearably frustrating, especially now. She pushed aside the worries.

"Yes. It's a shame, but... Well, we should get moving." She pushed herself upright, looking up to see if she could work out which direction to head in.

"Sorry."

"It's not your fault."

"No, it's mine," said a voice from the shadows, and Kite turned even as Saryth brought light to bear on the new threat. It splashed across the face of a blonde girl wearing deep red, the same girl who had accosted Saryth in the shop, the same girl the soldiers had mistaken Kite for.

"Terithia."

She blinked in the sudden flare, and looked to Saryth. "I'm glad you're all right."

"I am. Several of your soldiers are not."

She looked surprised. "That's not your fault, though... because they had Kite."

"That doesn't make it any less my responsibility. I chose to use force." His tone was harsh, and she flinched back, face suddenly, openly upset, not able to hide her emotion. For an instant, they stood facing each other, his face full of anger and shame at his own lack of control and hers gaining comprehension even though she didn't want it, and then his light flickered out. In the darkness, she spoke again.

"Then it's mine as well."

Kite hardly breathed, waiting for his response, but he remained silent as a patrol clattered past two blocks away. The moon emerged from the cloud it had hidden itself in, lending his hair a silver sheen and gilding Terithia's blonde curls so that they almost appeared the same colour.

"I'm sorry." Terithia stepped forward, hesitated at something, and turned away as the moon went back behind its cloud. Shrouded in the shadows, Kite saw her retreating down the alley towards the inn.

She looked up at her companion, but it was just a bit too dark to see his face. Unable to tell what he was thinking, she stepped out of the doorway, and turned towards what she devoutly hoped was the edge of town.

She paused and looked back at the doorway, where he still stood. "Coming?"

Wordless, he followed.

Kite and Saryth spent the rest of the night dozing half a mile into the forest, tucked into a hollow and shielded from sight by a stand of scrubby saplings. For all that the hollow was full of tree roots, and the ground was damp from the rain, she had slept easily and well, and when she woke up, Saryth was still sleeping so peacefully she regretted having to wake him to resume their journey. In silence they retraced their steps to the hill top and looked over at Corindale again. In the morning light, the town appeared tired and a bit washed-out. The tiled roofs that had been so red in the afternoon were now pale, and the people of the town moved sedately about their business. There was little sign of the ruckus caused last night other than a preponderance of soldiers round the inn, and the fountain splashed in its bowl just as it had the previous day. Two children threw water at each other and ran around, boundless energy contrasting with the tired soldiers who now prepared a carriage and escorted their lady to her seat. There was no sign of her companion.

"Kite," Saryth said in warning, and she looked round and saw the red-haired man coming towards them. In the morning he too looked pale and tired, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t dangerous. But it was what he carried that drew her eyes, and her heart lurched in sudden hope as he stopped a few feet away and inclined his head in greeting.

"I'm Rishan Torvilson. I am - I was - the bodyguard of Lady Terithia."

"Was?" Saryth asked. Rishan looked away.

"She has dismissed me from her service." At the intake of breath, Rishan added, "at my request. I would not be permitted to serve her now. She gave me this, to return to you." And he handed the staff to Kite, whose hand closed over it like it was a lifeline.

"Thank you! But - how did she get it - and give it to you?"

"My lady is most persuasive, when she chooses to be." Rishan bowed to the pair of them, and then looked to Saryth. "I wanted to thank you," he said, speaking to him alone now. "My lady... well, she said she understood better now. Her responsibility, her duty." He stopped, as though expecting a comment, but Saryth just looked blank. "It's what you said, not what you did," Rishan offered, seeing the incomprehension, and then turned away. "I'd better be going. Good luck to you both."

"Thank you," Kite said, hardly able to believe her own luck at having the precious staff returned. Rishan waved without turning round, walking swiftly away in the direction they had come from, towards the little hamlet they'd stayed in four days ago.

"Well," Kite said finally. "We should get moving. The gate is to the north of here. I think we can make it before the end of today."

"That would be good," Saryth said, some colour returning to his voice, and he followed her as she started walking north around Corindale. One more day to the next gate, one world closer to Dunburgh. Closer to Vorannen. But the smooth warmth of the staff was reassuring in her hand, and Saryth was smiling as he walked, and there was still time to enjoy the journey.