Hubert seethed in silence, hunched over his mount as he led the way out of Loseine. He may have said nothing, yet his manner, as well as the dark pall he cast in Metterlichs wyrd sight, said all that needed to be known. The wizard frowned but did not dare to remark on the man's mood.

With no others to add to the emotional clamor, Hubert was a cloud of vitriol that dominated the sixth sense, the purity of his resentment stunning the young man. Why he was so angry with the course of events was beyond Metterlich, but perhaps it was the only emotion Hubert was capable of.

As for Eris, she was just as disturbing, albeit not in quite the same manner. The woman didn't ride her horse, simply guiding it along by the reins and keeping in stride, moving with an eerie grace more akin to a feral predator than a human. She was humming, although what song or tune it may have been escaped the wizard.

As if to vex him further, the wyrd sight continued to fail him, granting no insight as to the state of Eris' mind. He could only sense her presence, and barely at that. She was a dim shadow in the sixth, scarcely more recognizable than the horses. It concerned him. Not even the strongest of runic wards could disrupt a mages wyrd sight. He didn't dare say it, yet suspected the woman's strange appearance was no doubt connected.

"How well can you detect a man?" Hubert asked abruptly, interrupting the wizard's ruminations.

"Huh?" he asked, confused by the question.

"Your sixth sense, sorcerer, how well can you pick out a man from a crowd?" the inquisitor said bluntly.

"Not well if he doesn't reveal himself somehow," Metterlich shrugged apologetically, "I've never sensed him before, have no idea what his mind may be like."

"How useful," Hubert said frostily, "What purpose do you serve here exactly?"

The wizard's mouth drew taut at the biting critique.

"You can't fight the bastard with your magic. You can't help detect him, and it's not like you're going to track anyone without magic, that's what the damned savage is here for," Hubert snorted, indicating Eris with a dismissive nod.

To that, Metterlich could say nothing.

"Katarina is being foolish," the inquisitor shook his head and turned away, "Why she thinks you should travel with us is beyond me."

"You're slower than me, and weaker," Eris said abruptly, turning to face them.

There was a malicious smile on her face as she eyed the old man, "You aren't as good of a tracker or fighter. What purpose do you serve here, inquisitor?"

For the briefest moment the wizard could sense the man's surprise, followed by a return to anger.

It seemed the woman's cynical wit was enough to even give the old man pause. Hubert's beard twitched as he glared down at her.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

"Intellect, experience, and authority are all invaluable assets," he said acidly, "I do not dispute the value of your- feral qualities in the task at hand, I do however question the value of an undertrained wizard apprentice."

"Magic is never useless," Eris waved a dismissive hand and laughed, "Even if it might not be evident now, I'm sure we'll get some use out of it, and I'm sure Miss Romme knows what she's doing."

"Congratulations wizard," Hubert sneered abruptly and turned to Metterlich, "You have the warhound's approval, and if Katarina's pet savage believes it, I have no doubt it's true."

At that the woman's mouth drew taut, her eyes twitching as she blinked once, then twice as if in shock. She glanced over at the apprentice, then back at the inquisitor. Hubert simply stared back at her, his gaze harsh and uncompromising. Eris made no remark, then turned about, silenced.

Metterlich wanted to say something, yet wasn't sure what, and the irate inquisitor seemed impossible to off-put.

"Think I'm being too harsh?" Hubert snorted derisively as he glanced at the wizard.

Metterlich remained silent.

"You might lie to yourself, or maybe you just don't know better, but the truth is harsh," the old man shrugged, "Why the hell do you think your teacher hired her? She's a savage who knows how to hunt down people like our Malthorian friend and little else. Effective and disposable."

Metterlich opened his mouth, then shut it. He felt ill, and didn't want to continue this line of talk. It felt unfair that Hubert should treat Eris in such a manner. She was odd certainly, but worthy of so much derision? It seemed to be excessive. He wondered if it was simply Hubert's foul mood talking.

"Can you use that saber and pistol of yours at least, my lord Rook?" the inquisitor asked, sarcastically emphasizing Metterlichs name.

"A bit- I've trained-" he responded, unsure of what exactly to say.

"How inspiring," Hubert shook his head in agitation.

Metterlich sighed, going silent as they continued their trek down the road. It was bitterly cold, and if the clouds above were anything to go by, it would only get worse.

"What do you think our odds are?" he said suddenly, "Of catching this killer?"

"Depends," Hubert answered with a shrug, "If he does the smart thing and heads across the border, the odds are bad. All he has to do is slip across to Ruthenia or Etria and we will never catch a hold of him."

"If he doesn't?"

"Then our chances improve, somewhat."

And to think Hubert was the one complaining about inspiring confidence.

"Give it a week, maybe two. The passes north will be blocked with snow," Eris said flatly, "He won't be able to leave then."

"Precisely," the inquisitor agreed, "Then it's just a matter of narrowing down his location."

"That's still a lot of places he could be hiding," Metterlich said cautiously.

"True, but only so many are willing to harbor such a man, and time will be on our side then. We'll have all winter to track him down."

"All winter-" Metterlich let out a groan of agony.

All winter on the road. And with company like this.

"Oh, cheer up!" Eris said, her tone seeming to perk up at the sound of his despair, "A little less reading and a little more fieldwork never hurt anyone. You'll get to see the world a little bit."

"Patience is key," Hubert sighed, "It will not do to rush, as uncomfortable as it may be, if we're to do this right it will take time."

He frowned intently at the sight of the young wizard's slumped posture.

"That said, I think he's going to stay, and stay near."

"What makes you so sure?"

"He killed at Tarva, all those years ago, and he's still here now, it stands to reason he will stay nearby."

"Perhaps strike again," Eris snickered loudly.

"You think- you think he'll do that?" Metterlich asked.

"Possibly, probably," Hubert shrugged, "But not if we catch him."

"I just-"

"Not cut out for this thing?" the man raised an eyebrow, "No. No you might not be. But Katarina says you'll do the job, and so you're damn well going to do it."

The young man adjusted his reigns, pulling his coat tighter.

"Just don't add another wizard to the bastard's tally, eh," the inquisitor said humorlessly, "Katarina wouldn't appreciate that."

The idea of coming up against a man who had so easily felled Orrin, of having to face him in a fight, that was not an entertaining prospect.

Metterlich shuddered at the thought. How the others shrugged the possibility of that fatal encounter aside, he did not understand. Hell, the man had almost killed Eris, and here she was-

"It's ok Met, I know the feeling," the woman smiled toothily, as if reading his mind, "You'll do fine. You'll get used to it. Eventually. I did."

She said the last few words more thoughtfully, her lisping speech seeming to slowly die down to a whisper.

"Thanks."

He accepted the platitude, meaningless though it was. This far from home, from his peaceful life of study and learning, there was no way she could understand.

But at least Eris meant well.

He hoped.

"Well, you might get used to it," she suddenly perked up with a ringing laugh, "Just as long as you don't get killed beforehand!"