" You did well, you know. You showed the same quick wit I did when I was your age, maybe even more. The village will do fine when I pass onto the next world,"Witch Hazel remarked pleasantly to me as I grinded several herbs together for a poultice.

The old crone had arrived in the village the morning after the Rhea's birth to a handsome baby boy. I had stayed overnight in the village for the first time in years, though no one had received any sleep due to the impromptu celebration of the birth.

" Don't talk like that!," I immediately replied, shooting her a worried glance.

The old woman shrugged her bent shoulders. " Everyone must die sometime. I've lived many years, most of them fair and cherished. Hopefully it will be later rather then sooner. Now wipe that frightened look off your face, it isn't as if I'm at death's door."

I smiled at her irritated tone and continued grinding the herbs. Though I had hated the tedious labor of preparing ingredients when I was younger, I now found comfort in the menial task for reasons unknown to me. There was no complicated magic or difficult conditions; just simple mixing and grinding and gathering.

" It isn't just me whose noticed your good work," Witch Hazel said suddenly after I failed to reply. " Taera spoke to me half a season ago how quickly her daughter's infection healed up because of a poultice you made. She said all the children trust and admire you."

Her voice seemed more thoughtful then usual, and I wondered what was on the wise woman's conniving mind. It had been at least a year since she had spoken so much. I was surprised Taera, a woman who had always treated me as a distant outsider, had said that of me. Eona had told me that once as well, several years back, right after I had healed a scrape on one of the youngest boys in the village.

" It's a shame wise women can never marry. You'd be the sort of mother all the other village children would want for their own," Eona had told me after we had watched the boy scamper off with a shy grin on his face.

" Just as well. I'm still half blood, remember? A man would have to be half crazy to marry me. No man would want his children to have Khorsandian features," I had reminded her.

My words hadn't been said with bitterness. I had long since accepted that my Khorsandian features were too unusual to ever be loved by one of the men in the village, not to mention the blood line I would pass on to my children, if I were to have any. But I had happily settled into my role as future wise woman of the village, and though Eona had shrieked that it was an awful thing to say about myself, it was true. I had no regrets about the solitary path I had chosen.

" The journey back from the ancient circle was hard on my old bones, even with the spirit of the trees guiding me," Witch Hazel said, jolting me back into the present. " I've been old for many years, but it's only been recently I've started to feel it."

There was something in her tone that made me hesitate in my work and glance up at her. Her deep doe-like eyes held mine for a few moments, and she placed her hands on mine.

" I had thought to wait longer, but I see the only things left for you to learn must be learned through others or yourself. My instruction is nearly done. By high summer, I will ask Lachlan to make you wise woman of the village."

My mouth dropped open. " But..I'm not ready! I can't control my magic as you can, and people don't listen to me the way they do to you, and I can't—," I began frantically, only to be cut off by my mentor mid-sentence.

" Ah. Those things, I cannot teach to you. There are many things you will have to find out on your own, Ava, the way I did. And it's not as if I'll disappear as soon as the title transfers to you! I'll still guide you, up until the day you won't even think twice about asking me for advice. You are like a daughter to me, Ava," the old woman told me, impulsively laying a gnarled hand on my wrist to emphasize the sincerity of her words.

Displays of affection from my mentor were rare, and I felt my heart swell with love for the elderly woman. I was unable to keep a smile from spreading across my lips, and nodded my head once with respect as all did to Hazel. The idea of me becoming the known healer of the village was so surreal I wanted to laugh at the suggestion. The old woman hesitated for a moment, almost as if she were about to say something else on that subject, before venturing onward a different route.

" Now by chance did you get some Tehran root or some mushrooms this morning when you went to bathe in the pond? I planned on using it in the ceremony tonight to represent the boy's coming into the world. You best watch me carefully this eve, you'll be making blessings by the time Jaen's child comes into the world," Hazel told me, then turned around to gather the herbs I grinded for the poultice.

I smiled guiltily at her turned back. I had every intention of doing so, but had ended up picking the sweet blueberries instead for a morning meal.

" I'll go do it now. I'll be back before the naming ceremony," I replied swiftly, picking up the closest basket at hand and made my way toward the door.

Naming ceremonies were among the most sacred ceremonies in Faelan culture. A name determined everything in a person's life, from personality to destiny. The ceremonies always happened four days after the birth right after sunset, and were always a good cause for celebration afterwards. Truthfully, my favorite part of the ceremony took place in the dancing that went on after the naming. With two of the elders playing their pipes, one playing the harp, and the ethereal music of the trees, the dancing during the Faelan celebrations wasn't to be forgotten. The people themselves swayed their long, elegant bodies as if they were trees themselves. Though I loved the feeling of my limbs running wild and the addictive excitement of the flickering shadows my body cast, I couldn't bear the unsubtle stares of the other villagers. I knew that my movements were jerky and awkward in comparison to their own sensual dancing, and had retired myself to the sidelines long before my tenth summer. At times, when I was alone with Knife by the pond, I would sway my hips and dance as I tried to recreate the music in my head.

Knife gracefully lifted his head from his spot near my blankets as I walked past him, and slowly got to his feet to trot outside after me. The wolf was no longer the youthful thing he had once been, though he remained as sleek and beautiful as he had always been.

The afternoon was a peaceful one, with the forest's silent beauty hanging over the land. The only sound was the occasional cry of a hawk, and the music of the ever present breeze whistling softly through the ancient oak trees. The path to the gentle part of the brook was overgrown and tangled, though no Faelan would ever notice it. The unique bond we shared with the forest would never let us be lost, even if it was so dark we couldn't see our own hand in front of us. I could hear the laughter and shouts of the children who had already made it down to the river, and smiled despite my abhorrence of the river. The rivulet would most likely deserted for it's brother water. Eona had spent years trying to convince me to come down to the large river, or to even just step into the water in the brook. But it was a struggle for me to even come here to wash myself. Being near the water always brought up unbidden memories.

Tehran root was used to help bring on visions, and was crucial to any naming ceremony. Despite the elegant name, it was a thorny root that grew only near the muddy patches on the brook and the pond. Grimacing at the thought of sloshing through mud, I walked on. The strong breeze picked up, letting the trees dip their heavy branches in the wind. Locks of brown hair escaped from my braided hair as the gurgling giggle of the brook became heard. I hesitated, knowing the brook was a great deal closer then the pond, for all I loathed it. After a moment of thought, I changed my mind and walked west. Moments later the trees thinned out to reveal a small, steady brook that eventually lead into the great river.

I could imagine the loud, ruckus laughter of the others further downstream as I walked further down the tiny brook. I smiled wryly to myself, knowing that Eona and Raevan would be among those going down for a swim in the river today, before the ceremony. They would make a good match, Witch Hazel had told me many years ago, when I was only seven summers or so. It was at a time the two had despised each other, and I had looked at Hazel in horror that she would dare suggest such a thing. But like always, she had been right in the end. She always was.

My feet sank into the moist soil as I entered the strawberry patch, and I scooped up the hem of my skirt to prevent it from becoming wet. The gurgle of the brook sang loudly in my ears as I picked the mushrooms one by one.

As soon as I had gathered an adequate amount for dinner, I glanced at the water source once again. My face was sweaty and streaked with dirt, and I wouldn't have a chance to walk to the pond for many days. The trees seemed to rustle oddly, and an intense urging sound surged through the air. You need to face your fears, Ava, I told myself. It was silly to be so scared of running water. I took another glance down at the gurgling brook; the chances I would drown in such a small body of water were slim to none. The trees rustled again, more urgently this time, and with a half defeated sigh, I walked the short distance to the water's edge and knelt down. For a moment, I remembered the desperate dash with my mother to get to the other side, but I pushed it away before it could fully formulate. Knife let out a small bark and leaped in before me, spraying thousands of iridescent droplets on my forehead. Laughing, I splashed the wolf back as it drenched itself in the small brook.

Scooping a cup full of water in my hands, I splashed it on my face. The cool, pure water in instantly wiped away the layer of dirt on my face, and a tiny, nearly inaudible sigh of relief escaped my lips.

A watery reflection of my face shimmered back at me as I dumped the water back in the pool. I studied it for a moment; it had been the first time in many seasons since I had seen any kind of reflection of myself. I blinked once, surprised for a moment. The movement of the water betrayed no resemblance to my face, save for the deep green of my eyes. I briefly wondered if I would ever see the odd shade in the village, but dismissed it almost as soon as the thought surfaced. All pure blood Faelen were born with a swirling hazel that was as unique as a fingerprint.

I waited until I was completely clean to reach under my tunic and carefully pull my mother's necklace over my head. The emerald stone glittered softly in the dying sunlight. With my fist curled around the necklace, I held it under water for a moment to let the dirt wash away before looping it back over my neck. The familiar weight rested comfortably on my chest once again, and I relaxed. There was something about the necklace that always made me feel safe. It was the one piece of my old life that remained–whatever that may of been. Except for the last day I had seen my parents, all memories of my previous life had been erased by time and trauma.

My head snapped upward at a sudden movement to the left. Across the stream, a doe and her fawn stood at the forest's edge, hesitating at the sight of me. My shoulders relaxed, and I watched them quietly for a moment. The mother, long used to the Faelan and Knife, took several steps and lowered her elegant neck to take a few sips of the cold, sweet mountain water. The white spotted fawn stood still and regarded me and the wolf gravely for several moments until thirst won out. Taking a few timid steps to the water's edge, she lowered her head and eagerly drank. Knife sat by my feet, his golden eyes watching the two without a predatory gleam. While he might hunt down a deer anywhere else, the brook was neutral territory for all life in the forest.

I dipped my feet back in the water, brushing my toes across the stones. I mulled over my last exchange with Hazel, and marveled at how the responsibility of the village would soon come to rest on my shoulders. It was what I had dreamed of all my life, and yet, now that it had come, I felt nervous. Though I had foraged a friendship with Eona and earned the respect of the others, I still knew Lachlan would feel weary of my transition to wise woman of the village. I would no longer be the unkept half bred girl.

The doe's head suddenly jerked up violently. She stood perfectly still as the breeze blew downwind, nothing moving but her flickering ears. Abruptly, she and the fawn broke into a dash and plunged back into the woods.

Knife also abruptly rose from his languid position in the sun as the gust of wind blew past us. His moist ebony nose sniffed the wind carefully as his golden eyes gazed down the brook. Frowning, I stroked his soft grey coat, wondering if one of the village children had decided to wander down here. It was odd behavior, coming from my tranquil wolf.

I glanced across the river. The doe's head too had jerked up violently. She stood perfectly still as the breeze blew downwind, nothing moving but her flickering ears. I felt my muscles involuntarily tense as I realized the rest of the forest had become silent as well, and slowly eased my feet out of the water.

Abruptly, the doe and the fawn broke into a dash and plunged across the brook past Knife and I, narrowly missing a spiraling golden arrow.

At that moment, every muscle in my body froze.

The Faelan were a pacifist race. There were no such things as weapons, particularly arrows, in the culture. Could it be? No, it can't be, it's impossible...a million thoughts and emotions rushed through my mind at once, all of them being overshadowed by one: fear.

Knife emitted a low, rumbling growl from the back of his throat, and his golden eyes suddenly glinted in a predatory way I had never seen. My own trembling hand shot out to steady him and I silently rose to my feet, my mind trying to form too many plans and ideas to concentrate on one. We have to get out of here, I thought, and turned to run. But at the same moment, Knife growled once more and took several steps into the brook. No! I cried out silently, rebounding to try to stop him. But before I could take more then a step, a voice swore from the other side of the brook, and a tall Khorsandian man on a horse emerged into view.

For a moment, I was mesmerized. In perhaps one breath my eyes traveled over him and registered everything there was to see: his wavy auburn hair, his straight nose the puzzled expression on his face. He was older then myself, though not by many years, and wore clothes made quality and precision I had never seen before. To see the human features in my face reflected on another took me aback, and I let out a small gasp. The man whipped his head around and his intense eyes focused on me for a half second before Knife let out an defensive bark and lunged toward the horse, snapping at it's feet.

" Knife!," I screamed as the horse whinnied in sheer terror, rearing it's legs. The wolf dove between it's belly, narrowly missing the force of beast's powerful legs. " Knife!"

The man shouted something in unintelligible Khorsandian, and I suddenly heard other voices. Panic rose in me as the wolf continued to snap at the horses legs. " Knife!"

Two other mounted men suddenly burst into the clearing of the brook. The wolf hesitated, then abruptly veered off back toward me. I whirled around and ran for my life, trying to create as much distance between myself and the brook as possible.

It's not possible, I thought frantically as my long legs nearly flew off the ground The cries of the men came from behind me, and I forced myself to go faster. Knife veered off my path in an opposite direction, and I suddenly realized I would lead the men straight to the village if I went back to Hazel's house. The slave hunters leave nothing but ruin in their wake, I could hear Lachlan telling us, his voice weary from past experiences. I fled north west, hoping to steer them off my trail. I heard the urgent rustling of the trees once again, and with a half start realized they had been trying to warn me. Another cry from one of the men ripped through the air, and my longs legs nearly flew off the ground as I dashed across the forest floor, the trees nothing more then a blur in the background. The pounding of hoof beats told me that they were closing ground, moments away from spotting me. Panic seized my body; I couldn't outrun them, even with the help of the forest. On an impulse, I ran to the right and slid down into the ravine. Disturbed leaves tumbled down with me as I slid down to the damp bottom. Breathing fast, I lay flat on the ground and shut my eyes tight. It was a risky choice: should I be discovered, there would be no way to escape, and if that happened... The thought turned my blood cold, and I lay still as death, listening as the harsh sound of the hoof beats breaking the fallen leaves on the forest floor approached. Nothing in the forest breathed; even the breeze seemed to halt in the agonizing silence.

" I don't like this forest witchery. These creatures disappear too easily," a deep voice rumbled in Khorsandian, no more then twenty feet beyond the ravine.

The language jolted harshly in my ears; it was the first time I had heard someone other then my mother and Witch Hazel use it. The puzzle pieces came together, and I realized something I should have realized the moment the doe had lifted her elegant head: Khorsandian warriors.

I shut my eyes, scarcely breathing lest they hear it. My hands trembled as I realized how foolhardy I had been to wait for Knife. The sleek wolf could easily outrun and outmaneuver a horse; I could not. But how could it be? We were too far north in the forest for Khorsandians, even I knew that. The village was leagues away from the border, one of the most northern villages. No one ever searched this high for Faelan slaves.

" She came this way, I'm sure of it. Hiding somewhere around here, I can feel it. She must be trying to steer us off the path of the village. They always try to," a younger voice responded, the contempt in his remark sending shivers down my spine.

The village, I thought for the first time, and a new wave of horror washed over me. No one knows of these men but me. I bit back a small gasp and clenched my fists, trying to calm myself. Knife would run to Hazel, and she would know something was wrong. Or perhaps he would race to Lachlan himself or the other villagers. But how would anyone know what to fear? They'll think I fell or hurt myself when they don't see me. They'll come searching for me, I realized in horror.

" It's a shame we don't have the hounds with us. But you never know when you'll stumble across a decent Faelan village, fresh for the plucking. It's so far north...Aye, we'll have to take as many as we can and send word for reinforcements. It'll be a nice life at court for many days after this!," a third voice announced, and a chorus of laughter when up around the men.

Don't let them find the village. Anything but the village, I prayed fervently, clutching my mother's necklace. For the first time in my life, it failed to offer the comfort I sought. The second man made another careless remark, and another round of laughter rose up. How could they chuckle so easily when the fate of the world as I knew it lay in the balance?

The trees stirred for a moment for the first time since the brook, their long limbs creaking in the wind slightly before halting once again. A new, sharp fourth voice came from the group, this one harsh and more commanding then the others.

" And there will be no money if you continue to giggle about your finds like palace maids. The girl could be running far away as we speak now, all because of your incompetence!," the fourth man said angrily, his deep voice echoing in the forest.

The laughter of the other men abruptly stopped at his words, and I realized his imperious manner came from being their leader.

" But even so, she's somewhere around here. I can feel it," the leader added, so quietly I barely caught the words.

My muscles tensed as the horses snorted impatiently at the dawdling. The memories of the horrible night I lost my parents, and the unbearable wait resurfaced, and I felt small droplets of sweat drip down my body. The soft click of heels sinking into the soil echoed from above my head, and I pressed my body as far into the shadows as I could, then held my breath. The shadows covered me, but how well I didn't know. A sprinkle of leaves sprayed down from one of the men's boot as he briefly glanced down in the ravine. My heart stopped, but he turned away a moment later. But the dirt and particles sailed down with the leaves, and I sharply inhaled the smell. My throat began to tickle, and a sense of dread overwhelmed me: don't cough.

" Perhaps she went on further, milord. Her village must be somewhere near here," the first man called, further away then he had been before.

My throat burned as I tried to hold back the cough. I had never fought so hard in my life to keep a cough submerged. The second man disagreed with the first one, and they began to argue. I squeezed my burning eyes shut, trying to concentrate on keep silent. But against my will, I let out a tiny, muffled cough, so inaudible that it would of seemed inconsequential at any moment then that one.

The arguing abruptly stopped. I froze, cursing and hating myself, so petrified I was unable to think. The soft click of the boots came to a halt, and the face of the Khorsandian leader finally came into view on the edge of the ravine. He was an older, muscular man, with beady eyes and a smile that spread slowly across his face as our eyes met.

" Well look what fell into the ravine. A Faelan girl," his deep voice rumbled, his eyes crinkling with delight.

I leaped up and scrambled for the other side of the ravine. They had horses, but I could out run them, the forest would help me meld, I was one of it's own. In one fluid motion I climbed out and took three desperate steps before the horse of the young man I had originally seen wheeled his horse in front of me, cutting me off. I frantically pivoted my heel into the soil and lunged to the left, only to be grabbed by thick, gloved hands of one of the other men. I bit back a scream and struggled beneath the man's arms. Knife, where are you now?

The leader muttered something incomprehensible and flicked his gloved hand to the left. My captor's grip on me loosened for a moment, temporarily distracted. I lunged down and sunk my teeth into the flesh of his arm, ready to squirm away. The man let out a cry of surprise and swore vehemently, but his grip only tightened.

" Get the ropes Rainer, what in god's name are you waiting for?," the man holding me grunted, and threw me to the ground in one swift movement.

Gritting my teeth, I tried to push myself up, only to be harshly kicked in the side by an oiled black boot. The force knocked the breath out of my lungs, and I lay paralyzed for a moment. I felt coarse, rugged ropes looped around my hands and tied in several unmerciful knots. I suddenly realized my chances of escape became more and more slim with each passing moment; once the ropes were secure, I'd have no way of defending myself. With this new revelation, a wave of strength rushed through me. I jerked my hands away and thrashed wildly, kicking my legs with all the remaining strength I had. Rainer let out an annoyed grunt as my foot succeeded in kicking his stomach.

" Jarland, hold her down! She won't be any use to us if we have to hall her all the way back to Edan by hand," he muttered in annoyance.

Edan. The name had a familiar ring to it, and I struggled to remember where I had heard it before. Jarland, the youngest man, leaned down and pinned me with his pale hands, a cocky grin spreading across his face. I spat in his face. He swore, and another harsh kick was delivered, this time to my belly. Bile rose from my stomach, and I fought to keep it from surfacing. I stopped struggling, just as the final knot was tied.

The leader dismounted from his horse and crouched down beside me. His squinty brown eyes regarded me carefully as a long pause hung in the air.

" She looks different from the others," the man who had tied me up finally said,

As my captors began speaking, fear sprang into me. When I had drawn up my half conceived plan of distracting the men from finding Iara, I had seen myself as dashing off into the woods before they could even get near me. Being captured myself hadn't been part of the plan, and as the horror stories ran through my head, I stopped struggling. I was trapped.

" Tie her up quickly. We've spent enough time away from the company," one of the men said from atop his horse.

He glanced down at me disdainfully, and his superior air seemed to indicate he was in charge of the others. His curly brown hair gave way to a straight beard and average features, and he looked down his nose at me with squinty grey eyes.

" She looks different from the others," the younger man who had tied me up said, breaking the silence.

" You're right, Olivar," the leader responded, but continued to look at me.

His hand shot out and gripped my chin, turning it one way. I flinched but remained still, the pain of the boot still pulsing. " But look at the pointed ears, and her skin. Not as tall as most Faelan women, but look at her other features. Unique looks fetch special prices if marketed correctly. She's pretty enough."

They don't know I understand them, I suddenly realized. I had the upper hand as long as I could keep that a secret from them.

" Where is the village, girl?,"the leader asked in a patient voice, startling my thoughts.

All four sets of eyes were on me. My face remained blank and impassive, as if I had no idea of what he spoke of. He repeated the question.

" It doesn't understand what your saying, sir. They speak the devilish language of the trees," Rainer remarked offhand, his eyes intense.

The leader shook his head. " What else would we be asking her? She knows. It's a matter of telling."

Jarland delivered several well placed kicks to my rib cage.

" Where is the village?," the volatile young man yelled, his pale blue eyes flashing.

The elder men gave him an annoyed glance, though I barely saw it. Pain racked through my body, and I turned my head to the side, shutting my eyes. No matter what they said, I would remain silent.

Time went on, until the leader at last abruptly dropped my chin and stood up, brushing off his breeches. " Enough; you'll decrease her value if bruises cover her in the market. Mount your horses, it's useless. Their kind would rather die then tell; In all my years, I've never witnessed one of them confess. We're bound to find the village by nightfall."

With those words, Olivar jerked me up on my feet. He would of been a good looking man, save for his nose that was so wide and bulbous it overshadowed everything else on his face. I let out a small cry and stumbled as I took a step forward. He wordlessly looped the free end of the rope around the end of his saddle, and remounted with the others.

" How many do you think we'll be able to take by ourselves?," Jarland asked the leader as he adjusted his satchel.

The leader shrugged as he urged his horse forward. " They'll be unprepared for the attack, that's for sure. Perhaps we can hold twenty, maybe twenty five, then send word further south for more to come.

The others followed the leader, and the horse I was attached to jerked forward into a trot without a hint of sympathy. I stumbled forward, forcing myself to remain upright.

Don't let them find the village, I prayed as we moved onward in the direction of my home. Don't let them find the village.

The forest was quiet as we moved onward. Every once in awhile one of the men would glance back to see if I was still there, and their harsh, calculating looks made me shudder. But even if I could have undone the painfully tight ropes, I wouldn't of gotten two steps before one of the men shot me down.

We changed our direction several times, slowly moving away from the village. It was well hidden in the ancient forest, and I prayed we would be far enough away when the naming celebration began. Or worse yet, before anyone began to search for me. My captors became restless at the lack of evidence of the village. I strained my ears to hear cries of the other villagers, the animals, or even the trees. But everything remained deathly silent, and the men were clearly unnerved by it. All of them, even the leader, kept glancing nervously at the trees and each other.

" We'll miss the Festival of light if we don't cover more ground tonight," the leader finally admitted as we went further west, away from the village. " Mark it on the map, Rainer. We'll sell this one in the market and see how high her value is. They won't be going anywhere, not without someone to warn them. We'll make a journey back to round them up after festival."

Jarland began arguing, but the older men silenced him with a severe glance. I looked at the leader with interest; these men gave him great respect. A wave of relief passed through me as we moved further onward, away from the village. The people will be safe, for now.

I should have stayed in the village, I thought bitterly as sunset approached. Throughout the day, I had concocted hundreds of plans. But with my weakening body and bound hands, a greater fear crept into my mind. What if I couldn't escape? But surely, after the men fell asleep, I would be able to! I would slip away under the cover of darkness, and warn the village that they would be searching for me. But better yet, they wouldn't bother. And I'd run back and would have a tale to tell Hazel and Eona and all the other villagers. When I was old, they'd listen to me in rapture as they listened to the elders. I clung on to my thread of hope and continued to plod my feet forward.

Though I had listened to the conversations between the men earlier in the day, eventually I stopped. With each movement of my legs, my body felt ready to collapse. My mind ached as I thought of Hazel in her cottage, wondering when I would return with the Tehran root. Perhaps she had walked down to the village to see if I had gone there instead, to confer with Eona or one of the others. Everyone would be angry at first, wondering why I would decide to be late to such an important night. Or maybe they would be worried, seeing Knife barking. They'd think I'd been hurt, maybe that I tripped and broke my leg. Rhea might be angry, but would agree to postpone the naming ceremony for a few hours in order to search for me.

The dusky twilight slowly began to take over the sky as the sun began to disappear. I felt my legs sway unsteadily and my hands clenched on to the rope to prevent myself from falling. Whatever I did, I was determined to remain walking. I could not fall; if I did, I would become a liability...and if I slowed these men down, I shuddered to think of the consequences.

Just as I thought I could go on no longer, we stopped for the night. The four men unloaded their belongings with a swift, orderly manner and began to set up camp, tethering down the horses first. Olivar, who had taken on the responsibility of making sure I didn't escape, glanced over at me every once in a while. He had tied the end of my rope previously attached to the saddle to one of the trees. I remained docile and calm as they prepared a fire, but inside I was jumping with glee. The ropes on my hands were tight, and it would be difficult untying the one from the tree, but not impossible. I could stay up all night working on it while they slept away, and steal away before dawn.

I sat quietly against the tree as the men joked around the crackling fire, careful not to let them think I had conceived a plan. The nauseating smell of cooked meat began to rise in the air, and I felt my stomach turn. It was sacrilegious in Faelen culture to eat meat of any creature, and even the smell revolted me. But the sight of the men eating reminded me of the hunger that had panged in me all day, and my stomach growled loudly. Rainer glanced at me, and gestured to the other men.

" She looks like she's hungry. Care for a bite, my lady? Or is this food not fine enough for your tastes?" the man asked mockingly, extending a piece of the cooked meat.

The others laughed at his jest, the sound of their voices echoing in the great woods. I remained silent, refusing to give in to their taunting. No meat would ever pass my lips, no matter how hungry I was.

Eventually the men's talk ran to an end, and my heart rose. Already my fingers itched to begin working at the knots. Maybe I would even untie their horses before I left, to ensure they couldn't follow. I leaned against the tree and closed my eyes, hoping to fool them with the deception of sleep. Hope soared in my heart.

Only to be crushed.

" Rainer, you take first watch," the leader's voice rang out, jarring my thoughts.

My eyes flew open and I sat up straight as Rainer nodded and straightened his back, leaning against the tree. The other men lay awake for a while until the loud snores they made revealed that sleep had finally claimed them.

I watched Rainer take out his sword and polish it. Every once in awhile he would glance at me until he realized I was watching him, and a look of pity crossed his weathered face for a moment.

" Ah, you thought we'd all sleep away the night. You were planning to escape then, weren't you? They all do," the man said quietly, not to wake the others.

A brief look of sympathy crossed with amusement came across his face, and he turned his attention back to his sword.

I didn't give up hope, not then. He's bluffing, I thought to myself. But as the night passed on, Rainer stayed awake and watchful, up until he woke Jarland up and retired himself. And then I slowly realized what I should of realized all along: I could not escape these men.

I stared at the flickering firelight in a daze as consecutive thoughts washed over me. The village had gone on with the naming ceremony—a child could not receive his name on any other night but the fourth night after the birth—but they would still be worried. Tomorrow the village would spend the day looking for me. Knife would lead them to the spot we had been, but the rains would of washed away the tracks. They would keep up hope for a long time, maybe a season. But eventually they would mourn me and in time, with years, forget about me. Hazel would die before completely training a new apprentice, and the village would be without a wise woman. Only Knife would know what had happened to me. He'd watch for me, day in, day out. Be brave, above all else, if you ever come into contact with a Khorsandian, Lachlan had told us long ago when we were children and sat around the fire. Most of us had giggled, for we knew we were too far to ever come into contact with these legendary Khorsandians. But I could no longer be as brave as I wished I was. As I lay down to go to sleep, I turned my head away from Jarland so he wouldn't see the silent tears that streamed down my face.

I'm going out of town for three weeks in a few days, so don't expect any updates until around the end of July! Thank you for all the lovely reviews!

* another note: I have a tendency to change the spelling of Hazel's name..can't decide which version of it I like better..just ignore it.