Lookit that! I actually got a chapter out when I promised to!xD We'll see if I can work on another one...I WANT to, but you never know with me. This one's a little shorter than the others, but after my disasterous experiment with length in the last one, I figure that's okay. My apologies to those who had to wade through it.*wince*

Michelle: To be fair, Malcom didn't really want to learn to USE it--the how was obvious. He wanted to know why she knew about it and he didn't. Other than that, I have no defense for The chapter was horrible. Hopefully, you'll like this one better. I admit, I had fun.

By the way, has anyone read Gone with the Wind? I'd be interested in your thoughts on it...

Enjoy the latest chapter! I'm heading to bed before I collapse...Night!

Chapter 12:

“You can help me.”

It was early morning. Morewan and I were seated in the tavern. It was the morning after we’d found her, and she’d come down to find me, nursing a cup of this newly found stuff called coffee and trying not to wince from my headache. I didn’t get it. If I drank, I’d get a hangover. If I didn’t drink, I got it anyways. Where was the logic in that? She’d instantly walked over and, after ordering a cup of tea that she said would help me, we’d started talking. We got along strangely well. She had the same wry sense of humor Rose had (maybe it was a healer thing), and I was in a good mood because she had some herbs to help my headache. Somehow or another, we got to talking about weapons. She wanted to know about my swords. How well I could use them and such—gold-hilted rapiers tended to get a lot of attention. I assured her they weren’t just for show. She said that my illusions were good. Extremely good. When I’d leapt out at that cart, disguised as a human, she said she hadn’t recognized me at first. It had been the eyes that had given it away, but what human would know to look for that?

“What else can you do?” she’d asked then. I’d told her anything—levitation, strength, brute force…etc. And that’s when she said that line.

“You can help me.”

It wasn’t a question, or even a plea. You know, a “you can help me…right?” No. it was a fact.

“How so?” I asked, taking another sip of my coffee. I absently wondered why Henuki wasn’t up yet. Maybe he’d given up after out explosive chat and had decided to leave me for good. Good riddance, I decided. Now I could get to my lonesome wanderings, and sleep without fear of being killed by some kid with night terrors.

Meanwhile, Morewan was leaning forward. She had her arms folded on the table, and her muddy green eyes studied my face.

“Look,” she said softly. “I’m a healer, right? I need supplies. Only…they’re a little difficult to get.”

“How difficult?” I eyed her. This woman probably didn’t need any help from me—she seemed perfectly strong on her own.

“Very,” she admitted. “Enough so that I can’t do this by myself. I needed backup.” She hesitated. “Originally, I thought I would have to hire a group of humans. Elves never leave their forest, and dwarves and I don’t get along. But I need someone to cover my back, and I think you’re the best person for the job.”

I blinked at her. “Me? Why?”

“Malcom, you just told me you’re good with a sword, and your illusion skills are remarkable.” She shook her head. “Alone, you could replace the five men I needed to hire. I need you to get these supplies for me.”

“Me?” I was still having a hard time with this.

“Yes, you.” She gave me a look. “Do you want me to go through the explanations again?”

“No, no!” I hastily held up my hand to stop her. “No. Look, this is just a different experience for me. I’m not usually wanted for work.”

She was still giving me the look.

“How exactly do you make money?” she asked slowly.

“Well…” I shrugged. “You know that display yesterday?”

She nodded slowly.

“That’s it.”

“Gods.” She rubbed her forehead. “Well, I’m offering you a…semi-honest living. There’s some thievery involved.”

“Some,” I said blankly. This wasn’t sounding good.

She nodded. “They won’t give me the items I need. It’s not that bad—just kept in a building with some guards. You’d incapacitate them, of course, or just…sneak in, and I’d keep watch.”

“You know, I thought this was supposed to be honest work.”

“It is!” she protested. “I need those supplies for my work. You know, healing the sick and the like….”

By now, I was leaning forward, rubbing my temples. Oh, good. The guilt trip.

“Look, Morewan. I’m sure this is a noble cause and all, but—”

“I’ll pay you 100 gold coins.”

I shut up. 100 gold was a lot of money. Enough to give me rooms for at least a month, along with drink and food. She noticed my expression and smiled.

“I thought you’d like that.”

“100 gold for…healing supplies? Lady, why aren’t you hiring that crowd?”

“I can’t buy loyalty for 20 gold per person,” she said. “But I can for 100 gold.”

Damn right she could.

“But just for me?” I, much to my own annoyance, began shaking my head. “How many guards?”

“Ten.”

Ten guards. For, once again, healing supplies. Something smelled. Before I could speak, Morewan hastily continued.

“Look, Malcom, I know you can do it. You’re good with magic, right? You could just make yourself invisible and sneak in, then out! Piece of cake, and you get your money.”

“Maybe, but Morewan, I’m not a mage.” I shook my head. “I’m just a…guy who’s good with illusions. And I can’t take on ten guys if it fails.”

“I can help!”

“With how many?”

She hesitated. “One.”

“Oh, goodie. That means…let me see…” I pretended to think. “Nine for me. Oh, yes, that really evens out the odds.”

“Malcom, please.”

“I could help.”

We both looked up. There stood Henuki, his hands by his side, and his silver eyes watching us calmly.

“I am good with a sword,” he continued. “I could take on five or six. That would leave as few as three for you, Malcom.”

He had a point, I thought grudgingly. Three was just enough for me to handle without getting hurt. On the other hand, a part of me, the part that hadn’t really wanted to question Morewan’s proposal, screamed at me that 50 gold was half of 100, thank you. I ignored it. As I think I’ve mentioned before, I rather liked my life. And taking on 10 guards wasn’t exactly the way to keep it.

“No!” Morewan snapped as I thought. “No, you aren’t coming, Seregon. I don’t want to be constantly watching my back.”

“And how do you know you would not be doing the same with Malcom?” he countered, his brows lifting. “If I were to give you my oath…”

“Who can trust the word of a killer?”

His lips thinned. I really wasn’t in the mood to deal with another fight, so I decided to speak up.

“Look, Morewan, I think it’s a good idea.”

That hadn’t been what I’d been intending to say. I’d been intending to tell him to take that fancy sword of his and shove it up his royal…butt. I wanted that 100 gold. But now I could see half swirling down the drain. To be fair, Morewan looked as surprised as I did.

“You...what?” She turned an incredulous look at me. “Malcom, surely you don’t need him—”

“And what if I do?” I retorted. “Look, I can keep an eye on him while we’re travelling—make sure he doesn’t rob us in our sleep, the like. I don’t care how much confidence in me you have. He’s a better swordsman than I am.”

“How is this supposed to be comforting?” she demanded crossly. “That just means my guard can be beaten!”

“Not easily. I could give you enough time to run.” I thought. Absently, my gaze flickered over to the still-silent Henuki. I took in the weapons on his waist, muscular arms, and did a mental inventory of myself. Thin arms, not particularly strong strikes, some speed…

Well, maybe I could get to a draw. But it definitely wouldn’t be through physical attributes. And probably not through skill, either.

But hey. I hadn’t gotten to be the age I was by playing nice.

Morewan looked from me to Henuki, then back to me. She seemed stunned. I know, I know. I’m a horrible person. But it looked good on her. Sometimes, call me mean, I like to see an…assured woman looking like she had the floor pulled out from under her.

I blame it on Rose. She ALWAYS knew better than me.

Apparently, Henuki agreed me. He lifted a brow and inquired, almost innocently, “Shall I pack?”

“Ooh!” The woman got to her feet and glared at us. “Men!” She turned on her heel and stormed up the stairs. Both Henuki and I watched her go with half-smiles on our faces.

“Beautiful,” I said.

“Quite pleasing,” he agreed. We both turned to look at each other. And somehow, I found myself frowning.

“Kid, this doesn’t mean I like you.”

“Of course it does not,” he agreed smoothly. “I would be a fool to think anything else.” He nodded to me and walked up the stairs. I stared after him, then leaned back and rubbed my forehead.

Right, then.

It was our third day on the road, and it had become painfully obvious to me that Morewan wasn’t used to travelling on foot. She never complained, but she began requesting stops more and more, and would usually pull some salve out and vanish into the bushes. During this time, Henuki and I would usually shift and cough, waiting awkwardly, as only two men can, for a woman. Then she’d reappear, her lips a thin line, and we’d continue on our way for another…half-hour or so. Camping was a nightmare. While Henuki would collect and I would hunt or forage—Henuki didn’t seem to follow the vegetarian traditions of his kind, but Morewan did—she would sit there, looking imperious but slightly lost. I tried to be nice. I’d been in the same situation as her when I’d started out, after all, but Henuki didn’t even bother. Then again, it might just have been his personality. He didn’t go out of his way to be mean to her. He just didn’t…talk. As a result, there wasn’t exactly a surplus of conversations. Morewan spent most of her time glaring across the fire at Henuki, and I usually gave up on my poor jokes and began prodding the fire, hoping for someone to save me from halflings.

I had never thought this would be so horrible.

The second day was worse than the first. All conversation halted, and we just walked along, not speaking, with Morewan pointing to dictate direction, then walking there. Henuki was absorbed in his thoughts, his fingers drumming a beat on his sword, and me…I was just wondering what was in that salve Morewan kept vanishing with, and where exactly she was putting it. When we’d been switching watches the night before, I’d been rather tired, so I’d asked Henuki where he thought it was going. The elf had been stone-faced, and had told me, rather coolly, that it was really none of my business, but he suspected it was for the blisters on her feet.

He had no sense of humor, that one.

But by the third day, the salve wasn’t cutting it for Morewan. This was our fifth stop in an hour, and I could tell Henuki was becoming impatient. He kept looking around, and shifting, as if he wanted to move. This time Morewan hadn’t even tried to hide. Instead, she’d removed her shoes and had applied the salve right there, on feet already covered in bandages. I grimaced down at them.

“That looks painful,” I commented. She grunted in response and kept bandaging. I looked at Henuki, but his gaze was off somewhere else. I was tempted to tell him he’d be right, but I didn’t think Morewan would have appreciated me joking about what clearly hurt.

“It is.” She shook her head. “And it’s from walking too much.” She looked up at me. “What’d you do when you got these?”

“Let me see.” I knelt in front of her and carefully removed the cloth, passing them to her so they wouldn’t get dirty. I hissed softly at the sight. Nothing good. There were blisters all along the sides of her feet, and some on the ball, too.

“Well?” Her brows lifted.

I glanced up at her. “I admit, kid, I’ve never had them this bad. Do you have anything to numb the pain? After two days, this should all turn to callus.”

“This was the last of it.” She held out the bottle of salve to m. It was empty. I grimaced.

“Not good. Uh…” I looked at Henuki. He was still staring into the distance. “Yo! Kid!”

He turned and looked down at me. “Yes?”

“Do you have a miracle cure for blisters?” I asked. He shook his head, and I sighed. “Great. We gotta get horses.”

Henuki had moved away again, but at this, he twisted.

“Excuse me?”

“Horses!” Morewan exclaimed. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

“You’re…cheap?”

“Thank you, Malcom. That’s so kind of you.”

“Ah…horses?”

Morewan and I looked over at Henuki. His face was as expressionless as ever, but I thought his posture was a little more tense than usual.

“Yeah, kid,” I said slowly. “Horses. Is there a problem with that?”

He shook his head. “No, no. Nothing…”

“You sure?”

“Who cares? I’m paying him, he doesn’t get to make the call.” With great dignity, Morewan rebound her feet and slipped them into shoes, then rose, her head held up high. “There’s a town two hours away—I think I can make it.”

“No doubt in my mind,” I said cheerfully. “You got money for three horses?”

She nodded. “Of course I do.” She smiled at me. “Let’s go.”

Morewan may not have been a good walking traveler, but she made it up with her eye for horseflesh. We arrived at the town, and she walked straight over to the local stables, where she proceeded to negotiate the poor stable owner out of his three best horses for no more than 100 silver, which was a ridiculous price for him to accept. You could buy two okay horses for 100, not three sturdy ones. I was impressed with her bargaining skills, and told her so as I examined my horse. He was a calm dun gelding who nudged my arm, then proceeded to sniff my pockets, searching for treats. Mentally, I named him Isril, for my long-gone baby brother. Morewan had gotten a brown gelding, and although his head drooped and swayed, he had a mischievous look in his big eyes, and his tail swished and flicked with energy. Henuki’s mare was probably the best behaved of them all—a liver chestnut who simply stood there, her tail moving back and forth. But strangely, Henuki seemed rather uncomfortable with her, and kept edging away.

“They’re not remarkable enough to get us robbed,” Morewan commented, “but they’ll work well enough.” She patted the neck of her mount, then looked over at Henuki. “Are you all right, Seregon?”

“Fine.” He jumped as my gelding, seemingly smelling something on him, expertly picked an apple of his pocket. He stared at it, and, if I wanted to humor himself, I thought I could detect some fear in those normally calm silver eyes. From Morewan’s smile, she could see it too.

“Good!” she said brightly. “C’mon.” She mounted and, holding the reins, clicked the horse forward. I followed her example—I’d learned how to ride a horse several years ago as part of a guard job I’d had. Henuki watched me and, awkwardly, mounted the horse. To the mare’s credit, she didn’t move. I don’t quite know how. It was the most uncomfortable thing I’d ever watched. The boy simply didn’t seem to know where to put his hands or feet. But soon, he’d managed to mirror my position, and I shrugged and nudged my horse after Morewan. His followed, but I think it was mostly because of the mare. Henuki seemed barely able to hold on.

“Never ridden before?” I asked brightly.

“Once,” he murmured. “But it was…very long ago.”

“Really?” I lifted my brows, inviting more. But he simply nodded and fell silent. Sometimes, I felt like conversing with Henuki was like pulling teeth.

“So…you don’t seem to like them much,” I pointed out after a moment.

“No.” His grip was white-knuckled on the reins.

“May I ask…why?”

“You won’t get anything from him, Malcom,” Morewan called to me. The woman had twisted in her saddle to look back at us. “When it comes to his personal life, Henuki doesn’t share anything. It’s his damned pride, I think.”

Henuki’s lips thinned. “It is a tale I do not particularly wish to share, Morewan, but I assure you, pride has nothing to do with it.”

I grimaced. Another fight. I was beginning to wonder if I’d preferred the silence. “Of course it doesn’t, kid,” I said, attempting to sooth his temper. Morewan rolled her eyes and turned her attention ahead.

“Hm,” he muttered.

I hesitated. Could I get it out of him? Probably not.

“I was nearly trampled by one when I was a boy,” he said abruptly.

My jaw nearly fell open. That hadn’t even required any work!

“Really?” I managed after some of my shock had worn away. “How…how’d that happen? I’d imagine, as a kid, you were pretty hard to miss.” Surely he hadn’t grown as tall as he was all at once.

A faint smile appeared on his lips at my words. “No,” he agreed. “I was not hard to miss. But the men…were not particularly paying attention.”

“I see.” A silence. I admit, my curiosity was piqued. “What distracted them?”

“They were seeking survivors.” His smile was gone, and his voice was flat. I was beginning to get a bad feeling.

“Survivors, eh? Weird.” Time to let it be, I decided. Absently, I noticed Morewan had twisted around to look at us again. “What about you, healer? Where’d you learn to ride? You have a night seat.” Not particularly lady-like, though. She didn’t adopt the custom of riding sideways, like humans did. But elves didn’t ride.

“My father taught me.” She pulled up her reins so she could ride abreast of me and Henuki. It was a wide road, and it just barely fit all three of us. “My mother stayed in contact with him while she could. She would send me to him. He so badly wanted a boy, so he’d pretend I was one. After all, no one would know—it wasn’t like I could go into society.” She shrugged. “He was a good horseman. He’d once been in charge of the stables, working for some noble.”

“But he did not teach you the use of a weapon?” Henuki inquired.

“No.” She smiled wryly. “He hadn’t deluded himself that much. Having a daughter who rode like a man was enough, I think. He didn’t want to break his traditions anymore than that.”

“Most curious.”

“I guess you could call it that.” Morewan looked at me. “What about you, Malcom? What made you leave your swamps?”

Now, suddenly, I felt uncomfortable. They’d shared their stories with me…Henuki less than Morewan, I admit, but he’d still told me something. But somehow…I couldn’t.

“Oh, you know,” I said lightly. “Just got tired of it. Staying in a place for too long always bothered me—I guess I just stayed too long at home.”

Morewan and Henuki stared at me.

“And…that’s it?” she asked slowly.

“Yup.” I shrugged. “I’m not a complicated guy. Shall we?”