The clop-clunk of horses passed from Merryn's hiding spot. I'm so truly foolish trying to outrun a horse. And, found herself stabbed with a short sword he hid under his robes. Thank Elaema for the small cave at the end of a stream...

Blood leaked from the makeshift bandage and dripped onto the grasses outside. The wound fluxed between, though the pain burned and throbbed. This won't do, leaving a blood trail was as good as leaving a 'come get me' sign. After a short pause, she shook the blood off the grasses and took off running.

I've got to get away.

Got to hide!

Ragefire Valley's jagged rocks and tall grasses weren't easy to navigate through, have always hated going through this way, but it'll be difficult for him too. There, a town in the road off ahead, Amperage. I hope father is still there. Everything was going to the dark ones lately, such black luck. There might be enough distance between us now—Maybe.

Weaving and bobbing forward, she stumbled as the swiftness spell abruptly wore off. The coin pouch came undone from her hip slash and clanked on the ground. The emergency fund! Straining, she snatched it back up mid-run and double-knotted it to the slash. Almost at the bottom now. The valley spread out to a long dusty path this expanded into a dirt road, it led to a modest town in the valley.

Sounds of town buzzed off ahead, and the scents of spices from the bazaar near the open gates wafted out.

The god is tremendously harder to suppress than any spirit before, I shouldn't be so tired already. The mission hasn't failed yet, find passage on a ship. Her vision blurred momentarily, and she slapped her cheeks. Just a little further, I hope he's home today.

A shirtless youth ran past. His arms shot up as a silver orb ball hovered over his head.

"I've got it!" He motioned his hands and the ball shot off towards a girl who was running toward him.

The ball whirled between hers, and without her touching it, the ball shot off towards a garden off to the right with the children chasing after it.

A merchant beckoned from behind, his narrow counter was several feet away, crowded with desserts, fruits, and buns in baskets beside it.

"Young lady, you shall find the finest sweets here! Why we have the rare Fizzy Kerf from across the five seas! Guaranteed to delight!"

"Some other time." She stepped to the side further away. He just wouldn't get a clue. She attempted to move past him while covering the wound.

He stepped around the counter, holding out his arms palms up.

"But, wait! I am an aged man trying to pay the taxes here. Will not you reconsider?"

"I need to go." She hissed through her teeth. A sharp pang came and went.

"A special offer today: only a five, gold for three buns!" His right eyebrow twitched, and he continued to smile, though now it didn't reach his eyes. His long ears were covered with age spots and little hairs at the tips. He's pretty brave working here, lots of bandits tended to pass through, but then again, the elder here wasn't half bad for a human.

This merchant is a such a pushy cart pusher, he needs to give up! "Thank you kindly, but some other time." She took her hand off the wound and flashed her blood-covered fingers near his face. "Keep quiet about this." The fewer people involved the better; they'll just end up dead.

He frowned and came near again. "Miss?" It didn't seem possible, but his forehead wrinkles deepened.

Shaking her head. "You might want to stay inside for today." She took a couple steps away. If I go through the rocks... no that wouldn't slow Maxwell down, he could track me through a blizzard if needed. Hope dad still has those revivify stones. Gah. He's probably lost them under piles of boxes again.

After crossing the dirt street—more of a path really—two men staggered beside the small tavern just a pace away. Their arms wrapped around each of their shoulders. Great. Jolly-drunken-blockage. She moved over and leaned against the merchant's empty counter. The door never looked so far away as it did now.

The red-bearded man sang a raucous old sailor shanty. His friend leaned back while puffing out his chest as he bellowed the song. Together they mangled the lyrics and sang off-key; as if they were a cat being beaten with a hot tong. She cringed as the red-bearded one hit a particularity ear-splitting note. I'm surprised dad hasn't come out and threatened them with some rotten eggs yet. At another time this would've been funny. The deep wounds flared up again, moving is what did it, and demand attention that took over all brain space left.

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They bellowed and shuffled down the street and stumbled into several merchant stalls and still managed to sing each lyric in time. The merchants and townsfolk were far from pleased, to say the least, as they came from behind their booths chasing after them. Both the men, as they ran away, dodged the assorted goods being flung.

Finally. Dad's Inn was in an inconspicuous corner. People of so-called good standing shied away from it. At least in this outfit blending in wasn't a problem.

She arched her neck. Above the doorway, a large sign read: Fuzzy Tail Inn. Below it was a picture of a black cat standing on its tiptoes, with its tail straight up in the air, proofed out. It was nice to be back, even if it wasn't home. Her vision blurred again. She leaned against the doorway. A few more steps.

He never locked the door, pushing it, she entered. The place had torches lined along the walls, although these and the candles on the tables did little to cast light into the inn. He always had it too dark in here. It was empty this time of day, too early most were still asleep.

"You dragged yourself in at an odd hour." She was startled by the sight of several new raw, ragged scars. A gentleness gleamed from within his eyes.

"Where have ya been? Mother's back in the city already and had already sent two letters by wind arrow now."

"Do you—" the pain came on full as a ram-bear, she crouched, gripping her side.

"Merry!"

Then she sagged further, becoming unconscious.

The next morning, she woke in her room. Mostly, it was awkward visiting him, more so after joining the Adepts.

Sitting up was a mistake, she sucked in a sharp breath as the wound sent a bolt down her side. This was bad, though not as bad as the poison from a spider-nab.

The soft bandages are newly applied. Father? Gingerly she eased into the leather armor and her sore muscles convulsed. She clutched the sides of the bed. It passed in a moment. I'll just have to tell him, he hated anything to do with the adepts. Sucking in a breath, she headed back down.

He was at a table right next to the stairway.

"What went wrong?" That knowing look of his was almost too much.

"It has been just a..." The screams rang in her ears just like they did two days ago. Running her fingers over the smooth wooden counter, she followed a groove. Lie, maybe? "It's fine."

He squeezed her shoulder. "I can't help ya' if you don't tell me what ya plan."

She shook her head and wove her feet behind the stool. "I'm just visiting, I'll leave soon."

He crinkled his brow. "You're not so much older now that I won't still wash your mouth out with stone soap." His voice sounded too stiff. He's right lying again wouldn't be wise, going to have to break this bad habit. Its gona' be hard. Honesty out there always bit me in the aft end.

Sighing, she rubbed her forehead. "The mission didn't go quite to plan."

"Clearly." He took her hand and laid his on top.

"I... need to leave. I shouldn't have come." She pulled her hand away and stood. What if Maxwell goes after him? Stupid. Stupid.

"Let me help." The corners of his mouth turned down.

"You already have."

He made a dismissive hand gesture. "As headstrong as your mother. This reminds me you should visit her, it's almost time."

Mom is trying to hold everyone together back home, she must be exhausted. "I'm planning on doing so, but the next ship won't be back for another month or so." And, I need to get this spirit—god—thing out immediately! It's taking every bit of energy I've got to even partially seal it in the pendant. Luckily it chose to go in that instead.

Boot-clad footsteps clomped across the cobbled stones outside.

Bloody harpy hells! Is it him? Her body shook, and her hands grew cold. Small beads of sweat formed on her forehead.

A pounding on the door.

"Quick, hide."

Padding back upstairs, she peeked out the upstairs window, just enough to see without leaning out. But was too late to catch the full exchange.

"—haven't," dad said, from downstairs.

"I wish the woman no harm, I just wish to an inquiry about possible stolen property."

"It's not my job to keep track of every balpted person who wanders here in town," dad said.

"Don't lie to me, peon!" He disappeared down the alleyway with his men following.

"I said I don't know where she is, Ya greasy pox-marked bugbear! Now kindly leave!"

She tiptoed down the stairs, swung her legs over the rail, winced, and dropped into the cubby between the stairwell and the hallway to the back storage. She pulled out her daggers. Things are getting down to the wick. I know dad can take on anyone, even at his age he's still The Beast after all. She shifted, ready to spring.

Footsteps again, this time fading away.

Going over to him, he shook his head and clicked his tongue.

"Shhh. Send me a mail port, and I'll try to catch up."

"But you're retired."

"Go back to the Adapts." He hugged her, a quick squeeze, and let go.