* Wake up, sleepyhead * I applied my cold wet nose to Motley Owl's forehead, then quickly stepped out of the way. He came up throwing a punch but I was already out of reach. It was a most satisfying outcome.

"Dammit, Fuzzy! That was the best dream and now I won't know how it ended. Insufferable feline."

* Are you packed? *

"I'm always packed and ready to move."

* Put your pack on the coach. Bring your hand buckler, your bastard sword, and your hunting horn. Leave your cloak here. Cloud Eye has your portable breakfast. *

It only took Owl a moment to be ready, "where are we going?"

* We are going hunting for the interesting two-footed prey you uncovered last evening. Eat your sandwich while I find the place where he fled into the woods. *

It didn't take me long to find the spot where the mystery stalker left the road. The only things that will get rid of the smell of elvish soap were time and rain. It hadn't rained overnight and it was less than a half-day since we spotted our stalker. Whoever it was didn't care about leaving a trail. Even a child could follow this track of boot prints, trampled underbrush, and broken branches. We followed it to the top of a small rise where we found the remains of a recent camp. The ground was still warm from burying a small fire. When I dug into the ashes I found wet used tea leaves.

* What do you think, Owl? *

"Whoever this is, he's not concerned about leaving a trail. That suggests he wanted to wait until morning before he crossed paths with anyone."

* You said he. Why? *

"Girls have different patterns of relieving themselves," he pointed to a drying wet spot on a tree trunk about a yard up. Then Owl blushed. It was a good thing that cougars don't laugh out loud.

* At least he left us an easy trail to follow. Shall we? *

Our stalker was moving fast. We had gone about a league before we caught up to him. He had left the ridge crest and was down on the road chatting with a farmer in a wagon with early string beans headed toward the city. Both Owl and I were quiet enough that we startled both the farmer and our stalker when we stepped out of the trees and onto the road.

Once our mystery stalker caught his breath, he dropped his hood and smiled. "Motley Owl, Lady Fuzzy, what a relief. I've been chasing your trail for over ten days."

"Blue Fox?" Even with the black cat mask on, it was easy to see that Owl was astounded.

"Merciful Matadee, Motley Owl, how much taller are you going to get?" Blue Fox raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure you're an elf and not a giant's kid?"

"My father was very tall," Owl said neutrally. After all the grief that Blue Fox dished out when Owl was younger, he didn't trust Blue Fox.

Blue Fox was thoughtful, "I remember your father. He had to duck his head going through a door or he'd hit his forehead on the door jams." He glanced down the road, "look, Matlok," he addressed the goblin farmer driving the wagon, "I can see the dust now from the front of the military column I was telling you about. There are three of us now so it shouldn't be too difficult to back your wagon into that field access behind us. We have one person on the reins, one person on the brake, and one person to do the hand signals to guide the wagon backward. Sorry, Lady Fuzzy, but I don't think you can help with this."

Owl and I looked at each other. This sure wasn't the bombastic obnoxious Blue Fox I remember. His adventuring group was a year ahead of ours and they were off escorting caravans. If he was here, maybe something went wrong for the adventuring group he was in and they had to come home for some reason.

"Motley Owl, could you lend a hand, please? The wagons with the ballistae are wider than goblin wagons so they take the whole road. It makes more sense to move Matlok's beans so the military caravan can pull through."

Owl blinked, "sure, I can do that. Where do you want me?"

"How about the hand brake? You have stronger arms than I do and I have a lot of experience backing up wagons. That okay with you, Matlok?"

The little goblin nodded, looking grateful but a little overwhelmed.

I let the two-footeds do their wagon-moving thing. I had spotted butterflies. I don't know what it is about butterflies but I feel compelled to chase them, so I was. It was fun while it lasted. Then I had to get out of the way of the caravan. A hobgoblin vanguard came first followed by the wagons belonging to the round ears. Then came our coach. The main hobgoblin troop and the supply wagons were last.

Wren was riding alongside the coach. When she spotted us, she cantered to join us. "Blue Fox? What are you doing here?"

"Father sent me," Blue Fox's expression verged on grim. "I have messages for both you and Cloud Eye."

"How long have you been traveling?"

"I left Elvenhome eleven days ago, I met with the Goblin Queen yesterday, and now, here I am. I caught up last night but decided not to crash a military caravan in the dark."

"Wait," she frowned down at him from the saddle, "you traveled over 100 leagues in five days?"

"I ran," he shrugged. "I've always been good at it."

"Brother, have I ever told you that you're an idiot?"

"Come to think of it, Wren, yes, you have."

"This isn't good news, is it?"

"No, it's rather bad news," the look on Blue Fox's face was one resigned to sorrow. It's not the sort of expression one should ever see on someone 18.

"Cloud Eye is driving the coach?" Blue Fox asked.

"Yes."

"I can take over for him for now."

"Blue Fox, who is dead?" Wren was her usual blunt self.

"Every member of my adventuring group, including Cloud Eye's sister, Red Wing."