She was still sleeping when he awoke. The sun was just beginning to rise, and the birds were just beginning to sing. Most of the birdsong, however, was totally unfamiliar to him; he had never heard these kinds of birds in Velon, nor in the Holy Empire. It worried him.

There were still some embers in the fire, so he got it going again, then went into the woods and used his sword to carve himself a fishing pole. It proved to be more of a challenge than he thought, and he didn't have any line, anyway, so he turned the pole into a spear instead, rolled up his trousers, and waded into the river with it. Fortunately the river was absolutely teeming with fish, and he quickly managed to spear two large river trout. He took them back to the camp -- Lillandra was still sleeping -- and used the tip of his sword to clean them. He wished he had a knife -- using his sword was awkward -- but he soon had them scaled and cooking over the fire, upon a crude spit.

The smell finally woke the Night Queen. She sat up, blinked a few times, and looked around.

"Good morning," Arai said dryly.

Her expression hardened instantly. "You," she snarled.

"Me," he agreed. He gestured to the fish. "One of those is for you."

He thought she might refuse, out of pride perhaps, but after a moment she carefully removed the fish from the spit and dug into it, turning it over in her hands. She was obviously hungry.

"And I don't even like fish," she muttered.

Arai did like fish, and this trout was particularly good; in fact he had never tasted better. "What do you usually dine on? The souls of your victims?"

She looked at him squarely. "You really hate me, don't you?"

"You killed my father."

"I don't even know your father. What was his name again?"

"Hetsu. He was a mercenary captain. He was Velonese, but he made his living in the Holy Empire, fighting in their wars. Two years ago Lord Pierce invited him back to Velon to drive the Al'mud out of the Hardways. He did the job, but Lord Pierce turned on him and killed him before he could return to the Empire."

"I know nothing of this."

"You expect me to believe that? Lord Pierce is the Lord Protector of Velon. He's been ruling in your name for the last thirty years."

"I barely knew the man," she said dismissively. "I only met him a few times."

Arai was incredulous. "Impossible."

"It's true," she insisted. "I never had any interest in politics. I left the running of the kingdom to him...and to his father before him, and to his grandfather before him. I only consulted with my Lords Protector once or twice a year."

"I find that hard to believe."

"It's true," she repeated. "I was too busy with my work to concern myself with the day-to-day affairs of the kingdom -- I left that to the Pierces, and I trusted them to carry out my wishes."

"They carried out your wishes, all right," Arai growled. "Your three Lord Pierces have all but destroyed Velon. Half the villages have been wrecked by monsters, and the Al'mud have taken over everything east of Harbor Town. No one can afford to pay your taxes. Famine, fire, and death, all while Lord Pierce and his family live in luxury in the Waterglass Palace."

She stared at him. "You're lying."

"Lying?" he exploded. "You think I'm lying? What do you think this rebellion was all about? Did you think the people were happy living under Lord Pierce's tyranny?"

"He told me it was an uprising," she said uncertainly. "There had been uprisings before." She seemed to think the matter over for a moment, before shaking her head and saying, "I had nothing to do with your father's death. If Lord Pierce was betraying and murdering people, he was doing it on his own."

"That doesn't make you any less responsible."

They ate in silence after that. When they had finished their breakfast, Arai put his armor back on and they resumed their trek upriver. It was a lovely, cool morning, and the wind coming off the river was refreshing, but Arai's armor was uncomfortable and his boots were wearing down from all the walking over rough terrain. Lillandra's boots, which were made of soft leather, were in even worse shape; he wondered how long it would be before the soles wore out.

The river straightened out somewhat after a few miles, which made the going a little easier for them; they no longer had to wade through bogs or cross tributaries. They encountered plenty of animals, but no dangerous ones, and no monsters at all. "There's not much magia here," Lillandra explained at one point. "No magia, no monsters."

"Ah. I suppose that makes sense." He frowned thoughtfully. "Tell me about your magic. What can you do with it?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"You might attack me with it. You might use it to escape. I want to know what you can do, and what you can't do."

"I have no reason to speak truthfully to you."

"Tell me anyway."

She sighed. "Some sorcerers specialize in casting offensive or defensive spells, or in healing, or in prediction or prognostication. My specialty is creating zemi."

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"Enchanted objects?"

She nodded. "I place my spells within the zemi, which allows me to cast them on the fly, without delay, and as many times as I like. I can create much more versatile spells, too, using zemi -- transportation spells, leeching spells, transformation spells, and so on. It takes a very long time to fashion a zemi, however, and it is very difficult, which is why most magic-workers don't bother with them."

"How long does it take?"

"For a sophisticated spell? Years. For simpler spells, a day or two, but it depends on the amount of magia present in the environment."

Arai had seen Vex levitate and throw fire from his fingertips; he asked Lillandra if she could do that.

"I was never very good at that kind of thing," she admitted. "I was never very good at casting."

"I don't understand."

She threw him a backwards glance. "You don't know anything about magic, do you?"

"I never found it all that interesting," he confessed.

She sighed again. "I'll explain it, then. There are four steps involved in fashioning a spell -- compression, confinement, calculation, and casting. Compression is the drawing of magia out of the ether. Confinement is holding that magia in place, by force of will. Calculation determines what form the magic will take, what effect it will have. And casting is the releasing of that bundle of magia, in the form of a spell. For most sorcerers calculation is the most difficult part of this process, but for me it's always been casting. My calculations break down if I'm not placing them directly into zemi."

"So you can't throw fire from your fingertips," Arai concluded, "or fly, or transform yourself."

"Not without my zemi."

Arai considered all that. "You're telling me you're not much of a threat."

"I suppose I am."

"But you could be lying about all this, couldn't you? To put me off my guard."

She shrugged. "It's possible."

Arai grunted at that, and they continued onward. He wondered why he even bothered asking her questions -- she was the Shadow of Velon; of course she would lie to him.

They had traveled another five or six miles, over relatively easy terrain, when Arai suddenly spotted a bit of smoke rising above the trees, another mile or so upriver. He pointed it out to Lillandra.

"Looks like chimney smoke," he said. "It could be a village."

She eyed the smoke nervously. "We should go around it."

"Why?"

"They...might not be friendly."

"If we want to make it back to Velon we're going to need food and supplies."

"I don't have any money. Do you?"

"No, but we might be able to barter something."

"Your armor? Your sword?"

"Your bracelet."

Her eyes narrowed. "That was a gift," she growled. "You have no right."

"Do you want to get out of this forest or not?"

"What difference does it make? You're going to kill me anyway, as soon as I reverse the spell on your friends."

He couldn't argue with that, so he didn't. They walked on, and shortly after noon, they arrived at the village.

It was a small, rather crude village, consisting of about twenty buildings, situated on a high hill overlooking the river. Most of the buildings had thatched roofs, but a few of them were slate. One large building was topped with a strange steel triangle.

The buildings were arranged in a rough circle, which gave the village a central square, although there were a few buildings on the outskirts as well, running off the side of the hill and almost into the forest. Several docks had been constructed along the riverbank, and the river itself was full of boats. "Must be some kind of fishing village," Arai opined.

A boy and girl, who had been playing by the river, spotted them making their way up the bank. The boy pointed and shouted something in a language Arai did not understand, and ran off with the girl -- up the hill and into the village, along a well-worn path. Arai, with Lillandra still in the lead, followed the duo, but halfway up the hill they were met by an old man with a long white beard, and two younger men carrying spears.

"Let me do the talking," Arai told Lillandra.

When they were close enough to speak, Arai greeted them as effacingly as he could, spreading his hands and saying, "Good afternoon. My name is Arai, and this is Lillandra. What is the name of this village? I'm afraid we're rather lost."

The three men exchanged a series of puzzled glances. The old man said something that sounded like, "Udo addi?"

"I don't understand. Do you know what he's saying, Lillandra?"

"I don't know any language but Velonese," she said. "I told you before, I've never left Velon."

Arai tried again, this time in the language of Arliel's Holy Empire, but they didn't understand this language, either. He tried a few place names: "Velon? Arliel? Elent?" But the men merely shook their heads. He was finally forced to use sign language, to indicate to the men that they had come out of the forest and that they wished to know where they were. One of the men finally caught on. "Ada," he said, pointing at the village. "Tobit to Ada, grazio."

"Ada?" Arai repeated. "The village is called Ada?"

"Ada," the men agreed, nodding their heads.

Once again using sign language, he tried to ask the men if they had a map, or if they would be willing to barter for food or supplies -- he even showed them Lillandra's bracelet -- but they did not seem to understand this, and he finally gave up. The men, having come to the conclusion that the two of them were not a threat, finally threw up their hands in frustration and returned to the village, leaving Arai waving his arms like an idiot on the side of the hill.

"This is going to be harder than I thought," Arai muttered. "We can't even communicate."

"We must be very far from Velon," Lillandra said. "They didn't understand Velonese or your Arlian."

That had worried Arai as well. Velon was not a particularly large kingdom, but the Holy Empire was enormous, and its language was widely spoken across the continent.

"We have to figure out how to talk to them," Arai said.

"I could create a zemi," Lillandra suggested.

He looked at her. "What do you mean?"

"I could enchant an object which would allow us to understand each other."

Arai was wary. "You could really do that?"

"Of course."

"I thought you said it took years to make these zemi."

"It would take time," she agreed, "but not that much time. I could probably complete the spell in two or three weeks. I'd need a cauldron of some kind to help gather the magia, though, and an object reflective of the nature of the spell."

Arai didn't want to stay in this village for an entire week, let alone two or three, and he didn't trust the witch with a cauldron.

"We have no idea how long it will take to get back to Velon," she added. "And a translation zemi, a Stone of Many Tongues, would allow us to speak with anybody we might meet on our way. It would be very useful."

"I don't trust you," Arai told her. "How do I know you won't take the opportunity to cast an entirely different spell? You might summon a dragon to kill me, or try to fly yourself back to Velon."

"Suit yourself," she said, shrugging.

Arai scowled. He didn't like this idea, but he had to admit it would be useful to be able to communicate with these people, and with anyone else they might encounter. He didn't have the time, or the patience, to learn another language. It had taken him long enough to learn Arlian.

Did he dare risk it, though? He wasn't worried about monsters or fire-spells -- his sword could protect him from those -- but he was afraid she would find a way to escape him.

They needed supplies, however, and they couldn't barter for them if they couldn't communicate. "Damn it," he muttered. "All right, then. Make your zemi. If I begin to suspect that you might be casting some other kind of spell, though, even for a second, I'll kill you without a second thought. Do you understand?"

"I understand," she said mechanically.

"Now. What do you need?"

"Well, to start...I need a cauldron."