Maela was almost certain that their prison was chosen for two reasons: It was remote and would be difficult to escape from and, perhaps more importantly, it was beautiful and peaceful and was a location you wouldn’t want to escape from. The effect was such that the first night was not about urgently planning an escape so much as sharing notes and getting caught up on everything that happened.

Of course, there wasn’t a whole lot to discuss. They were in practically the same type of prison from the moment they were discovered, and the two of them had already shared the substance of their conversations while imprisoned in the tower. In fact, it was a sense of wonder over the magic that dominated their discussion.

“Do you think that the road through the mountain was created by the wizards with magic?” Darla asked, as she took a sip from a wooden cup full of delicious, pure water.

“I’m not sure. I was thinking that, as it’s a road, not a trail. Traville said that the journey through the mountain was as difficult for them as it was for us. So they must have blocked the road with magic. But they came through to escape Ness, not build a road to link to it.” Maela stabbed at some boiled vegetables. “So why was the road there and who made it?”

“Well, I don’t think it is possible for craftsman to make such a road through pure stone without magic.”

“Yes. The wizards must have made the road long before they blocked it. But why?”

The question remained unanswered as the two of them finished their meal. They fell asleep in their own beds.

Awaking to the sound of crackling wood and the delicious smell of roasted meat, Maela pulled on her new clothes from the wizards and walked into the next room, finding Darla making breakfast. She walked over to help.

“Eggs!” Maela exclaimed. She hadn’t had eggs in a very long time. She grabbed the wooden spatula and took over the cooking of the eggs, while Darla stood next to her attending to the thinly sliced meat.

“Where are the hens?”

Darla shrugged. “The eggs were in the pantry. There must be hens or chickens in the woods. Either that or this is the last eggs we will have.”

“Until we escape,” Maela replied.

“Yes!” Darla grinned. “How are you?” Darla asked, affectionately bumping against Maela with her shoulder.

“Better than in a long time. I fear that I could get used to this.”

“I was thinking the same thing,” Darla replied. “But we should investigate more. A beautiful prison is still a prison.”

Maela agreed, and they finished the cooking, moving the meal over to a wooden table with two chairs at the edge of the kitchen. The whole cabin was three rooms and roughly four living areas. There was a large bedroom that took up the rear of the cabin, marked by a large fireplace and a door that led out to the rear of the property. There were two single beds, one on each side of the room.

Between the sleeping quarters and the living area was a separate space for bathing, with a large tub and a bathing furnace, to warm water in a large kettle. A sink with a pitcher stood across from the tub. A small wooden building a short walk from the cabin housed the facilities for relieving themselves.

The living room, if you could call it that, was open, with the kitchen to the left, and an open space to relax across from it. There was a large fireplace and comfortable chairs facing it. The table where the two of them sat was between the two areas, acting as a de facto dining room. The kitchen contained a pantry with room for salted meats and a counter for preparing food. Cabinets above contained plates and cups.

The entire cabin was comfortable and perfect for two people to live in as they enjoyed a rustic life.

Maela was not focusing on that, however. She played with the knife she was using to cut her meat. It would make a decent weapon but was weighted horribly and not at all good for tossing accurately. With Darla’s proficiency with knives, Maela decided to craft and weight the knives for her.

Thinking of Darla, made her think of escaping. Maela still felt guilty over her comfort in living in the beautiful cabin and the new world they found themselves in. But she knew Darla was intent on it, so she thought of what it would take. There were no usable sacks or bags for carrying supplies long distances. Nothing had wheels to repurpose for a journey.

“I said the bed is comfortable. Are you even listening?” Darla looked annoyed.

“Oh, I’m sorry! I was just thinking of supplies to escape.” Maela shrugged sheepishly.

“Don’t you think we should establish ourselves here first? We need to prepare.”

“Of course!” Darla’s response made sense, and Maela moved from feeling guilty about planning for an escape that Darla wanted to feeling guilty for not paying attention to Darla’s commentary. “Well, we have to make sure we have ways to hunt for food, and we should check the well. It will be bad if it is dry and the only water we have is from the pitcher they left for us.”

Darla nodded. “I checked the well. It’s the same water.” She motioned toward their cups. “I’m just glad we finally have time to be together without being half-starved or living on rat blood.” She reached her hand across the table, and held it there. It took a moment before Maela realized that she was expecting Maela to take her hand and hold it. She moved her hand toward Darla’s so fast to make up for the awkward pause that she knocked over her cup of water.

“Sorry!” Maela straightened the cup and tried to stop the water from flowing off the table with her hand, stammering, “I’m still assessing everything. It’s just my nature.”

Darla got up to find a towel and replied with a laugh, “It’s okay. It will take some time for us to figure things out.”

Maela shoved the last few bites of her meal in her mouth and helped clean up as Darla returned with a towel. With breakfast over, the two of them decided to investigate their new home and take stock of both resources and opportunities. The cabin itself had basic supplies: A few days’ worth of food, and living supplies for two—plates, buckets, utensils, skillets, and other tools and necessities.

To both of their surprise, they found a chest with clothing that would last a week or so—breaches, tunics, and underwear. All of it brand new, yet soft and well-made. No rough-spun tunics or leather needing to be worn in to get comfortable. Darla held up a cotton shirt that had a thin line of red down the seam. “Magic Guild colors!” she replied, lifting the shirt she was wearing over her head.

She was not wearing anything underneath it, and Maela turned away as Darla stood half naked before pulling on the wizard shirt. Maela again found herself confused. Darla was beautiful and Maela was drawn to her. The glance of Darla sliding off her top confirmed it. But it just didn’t seem right. They were survivors and adventurers, tough women who drank rat blood and discovered new lands. They weren’t the type to giggle over flowers and hold hands.

As Darla spun around in the shirt, a wide smile on her face, Maela couldn’t pull her eyes from Darla’s cute little flourish as she finished. Darla spread her arms and asked, “What do you think?”

“You look like a wizard. Know any magic?”

“You’ll just have to wait and find out!” Darla’s eyes glittered as she smiled and looked at Maela.

Three days later Maela was getting impatient with Darla. Despite constant requests, Darla refused to go out and investigate the woods or path. Her excuse was that there was no rush, and while slowing down to enjoy their rustic life would have appealed to Maela days before, it now made her feel impatient for action. Each hour ticking away was another hour that she was failing in her mission to report back to the Guildmaster Thief. She was, after all, still the Blade of the Guildmaster.

As to Darla, Maela felt her attitude shifting in the opposite direction. She still wanted to enjoy this side of the mountains with Darla, but she wanted to do it while heading home.

Not receiving any response to her entreaties, Maela finally just left without telling Darla with nothing more than a knife. Maela had searched all over for the bow and arrows that the man who dropped them off said would be there, but she found none. All she found was a hunting knife, which was long and better than the kitchen knives, but still a lousy weapon.

Stepping into the woods, Maela muttered to herself, “How do they expect us to hunt for food without a bow and arrows?” Looking around, Maela decided to head straight into the woods, leaving a gash in each tree with the knife as a guide back to the cabin.

It was a precaution she knew she had to take. The trees were enormous and all looked the same. Sure, the vegetation differed here and there, and there were occasional clearings, but taken as a whole, the forest was one large blank canvas of green.

The one thing that concerned her was the comment from the man who dropped them off at the cabin that they had a guard. She expected two or three guards to be working along a perimeter around the cabin. Indeed, that was part of why she wanted to head out—to test the defenses.

With three or even four guards, if the perimeter was wide enough there would still be gaps for her and Darla to slip through. They would just have to keep track of the defensive rotations. She had walked straight for nearly an hour when she saw what looked like a clearing ahead.

Did I somehow slip past the guard? Maela thought as she gripped the knife in her hand. If the clearing was a guard post or barracks, she would have to be extra careful.

Crouching as she got closer, she used all her skill to slip silently from tree to tree, even over a forest carpet of twigs and brush. There was definitely a building ahead, but it didn’t seem large. Perhaps it was a hunting lodge, which would have been the best possible scenario—she could sneak in or overpower the hunters who lived there and steal their bow and arrows and weapons.

She slid behind the next tree, and as she peeked around it she nearly dropped her knife. By the gods!

It was her and Darla’s cabin.

There was no doubt of it. There was the trail that led back to where their guards had departed. The front door was the same, and the railing along the front to tether horses was the same one that she had leaned against as she talked with Darla about how awful the cabin was for defense, with it having no shutters and the front door not having a lock.

Maela considered that she had somehow gone in a circle due to her losing her bearings. She didn’t think that her sense of direction was that bad, but she considered it possible. Striding forward she walked right past the cabin to the rear to where she first entered the woods. Glancing around, she estimated that she was just left of the well when she entered, so that was what she did once again.

There was only one problem—she couldn’t find the marks she left on the trees with her knife. She had been extremely careful, leaving a deep diagonal gash in every tree she passed. But there were no gashes near where she had entered the woods. Shaking her head, Maela moved to the left to see if she had misjudged where she entered the woods. But there were no gashes there either.

She then moved to the right and looked at the trees in that direction. After moving in widening concentric circles, Maela finally had to admit that her marks were gone. Do the trees heal that fast here? She considered it highly unlikely but possible—after all, this was a new land unlike she had ever visited before.

It wasn’t close to dark yet, so Maela once again decided to head into the woods. This time she planned to enter straight from the front door and pay close attention to her direction. She also used the knife to leave deeper cuts in the trees, hoping to slow down their healing.

The sky was impossible to see through the dense foliage above her head, and the dim lighting made relative landmarks like stones and bushes and unique trees difficult to see, not that they would be helpful at moving in a straight line, but they would have helped. Still, Maela had navigated the sewers of Ness countless times, and this was no different.

Trusting her sense of direction, Maela continued forward.

Less than an hour later she once again approached a clearing, a clearing that was familiar, even through the dim light of the forest. Not even bothering to hide her approach, Maela marched forward and shoved bushes aside. As she entered the clearing she looked upon her and Darla’s cabin.

As before she entered the clearing directly opposite the front door. This is impossible. Maela looked around, but there were no marks on the trees that she remembered leaving not long before. Walking along the edge of the clearing, Maela tried to grasp what had just happened.

Looking left and right, Maela examined the width of the clearing. It is possible I walked in a curve and didn’t walk straight, but I did not make so sharp of a curve that I re-entered where I left the clearing. Still, Maela did not quite believe what she had just experienced twice. The sun was going to set soon, and she was sure that Darla would soon come out to see what Maela was up to, so Maela once again entered the forest across from the front door.

The marks on the tree were useless, so Maela just moved straight ahead as fast as she could. She knew it was reckless, but she had to eliminate the possibility of what she feared was actually happening.

Moving about three times as fast as she had before, Maela was relieved when she hadn’t reached their cabin after about thirty minutes. If she had been going in a circle, she would already have stumbled upon the cabin. A new fear crept into her head. Great, Maela. You marched in a straight line, but now you’re lost in the forest.

At that moment, a new thought entered her head: How come I haven’t run into the guards yet? The answer came a moment later as she once again strode into the clearing with her and Darla’s cabin. For the third time in a row she entered directly across from the front door.

Sheathing her knife, Maela ran her fingers over her hair. The feel of the tight curls of black under her palm often calmed her, and she closed her eyes as she took a deep breath and let the texture claim her attention.

Maela walked to the cabin. She knew what she had to tell Darla—there was no escape through the woods. The wizards had enchanted their cabin and all paths led to their front door.

What concerned Maela more than their inability to escape their prison was what the news would do to Darla. At her heart, she knew that Darla was the same woman who told the guard who dropped them off that they were the kind who persevered. But she also said they were the type to escape. How would she react knowing that was no longer true?

But what worried Maela more was if Darla didn’t care.