Hellebore

by Chris Cook

Copyright © 2003

alia@netspace.net.au

Rating: R
Uber Setting: Diablo II
Disclaimer: Based on characters from Buffy The Vampire Slayer, created by Joss Whedon and his talented minionators, and Diablo II by Blizzard Entertainment. All original material is copyright 2003 Chris Cook.
Distribution: Through the Looking Glass http://alia.customer.netspace.net.au/glass.htm 
The Mystic Muse    http://mysticmuse.net
River Map    City Map    Willow and Tara's Bedroom
Feedback: Hell yeah!
Pairing: Willow/Tara

Chapter 1

Tara sat quietly on the wide balcony, and waited. Her gaze, searching for something to occupy itself, scanned the panorama laid out before her: in the shadow of the mountains, huge trees rising around her, each massive trunk bearing part of the weight of Tran Athulua, the sprawling arboreal city that was her home. Or had been, she reflected ruefully – from the sounds of the conversation taking place inside the pavilion behind her, her fate would soon lie elsewhere.

Her keen ears picked out the raised voice of Solari, her weapons instructor, and the more placid tones of Eponin, mistress of her clan's house. They probably thought the sturdy pavilion wall sufficient to keep their conversation private, but Tara's hearing had always been good enough to zero in on a butterfly by the sound of its wings. She did her best not to pay too much attention to what she overheard, aware that it was private – but it was her life they were discussing, after all. And besides, she had been told to stay on the balcony, so on the balcony she stayed.

"It's not that she's not capable," Solari was insisting, accompanied by the dull sounds of her boots on the wooden floor as she indulged her habit of pacing rapidly to and fro as she spoke. "Kethryes!" she swore, "I wish half my students had her skills!"

"Then what is it?" came Eponin's voice, along with a soft noise like a sigh, as her shifted her weight on the silks covering her chair – probably crossed her legs beneath her, Tara guessed, she always did that when she decided she was in for a long debate. "If she can handle a bow and a spear well enough-"

"Oh, you have no idea!" insisted Solari. "'Well enough' – she could put an arrow through a wasp in flight, if she tried. Don't even start on javelins, I've had to separate her from the other girls these past six months, she's too good!"

"But perhaps she lacks the ability to focus? Excessive physical talent sometimes-"

"No," said Solari flatly, "I know what you mean – I was like that myself, remember? Could put a spear through a wild pig I could barely see, but couldn't muster more than a spark of lightning on the blade until well after my sixteenth year. She's not like that."

"Talented?" asked Eponin. Another sound as she shifted again – probably uncrossed her legs, Tara thought, that meant she was paying attention.

"Like you wouldn't believe," replied Solari. "I barely have to show her a focus and she masters it, it's uncanny. On the practice range she's the best I've ever seen – she can bullseye a target with her eyes closed, and blow it to pieces with fire if she wants, or lightning if she uses a spear."

"But?"

"Oh, it's-" Solari's voice broke off and the sound of her pacing stopped for a moment before resuming at a slower pace. "I don't mean to become so agitated, forgive me, but…if you'd see her training you'd know. Any technical exercise she's phenomenal at, but put her against a living opponent and she just…I know we're not savages, but part of being a warrior is being a predator. I don't mean giving in to anger or bloodlust, but in the best of us it's always there, we use it. Like the men on the mainland use hunting dogs, you know? We let the dark, dangerous part of ourselves out just long enough to keep us alive and protect our homes, then rein it in before it does any more damage. Killer instinct."

"She doesn't have it?"

"If she does, it's hidden deeper than I can find," Solari admitted, her voice sounding oddly frail. "Believe me, I've tried. If she had that fire in her, she'd be a champion before her thirtieth year."

"She doesn't want to fight?" asked Eponin. "That's not so uncommon, though? If she felt strongly enough to continue her training past the end of her childhood, then surely she'll be okay, if she's ever called upon to put her skills into practice."

"It's not a matter of wanting to," said Solari wearily, "I mean, she's very gentle, but she knows we need good warriors, and she knows that people like her, with her skills, are really all that stands between us and the pirate fleets, or the creatures from the jungle coast. But it's just that, it's something she knows, not something she feels. You can see it when she spars with the other girls – she can block any attack easily, she can fend off a trident with bare hands if need be, but she doesn't fight back enough. She tries, I'm sure she knows what's expected of her and Goddess knows she tries, but it's not…her body doesn't have the instincts to go for the kill, even in practice when they're just using sticks and pads. I don't know, maybe it's just a matter of perspective."

"How do you mean?"

"Well, she knows it's just practice, she knows there's no threat to herself, or to anyone…but Zerae damn it, it's not like I can just wait until some slavers go on the march and push her into combat. Maybe she'll snap into it and do what has to be done, but you know what real fighting is like, it's not a game. It's certainly no place for a girl who may or may not have what it takes to face down an enemy who wants her dead and survive."

"Trial by fire," mused Eponin, "and you're right, we can't do that just because we think her talents might be wasted otherwise. But what do we do with her?"

"She's not happy," said Solari flatly, "she tries to hide it, but I can tell. She wants to do good, she believes she can, but we can't put her with a warrior pride without knowing she'll have a good chance of coming back alive. I've never had a pupil fall on her first expedition, Eponin, I won't allow it. If I can't prepare a girl well enough to survive, either that girl shouldn't be a warrior, or I should be replaced by someone who can train her."

"Maybe…" said Eponin cautiously. Solari's footsteps stopped, and Tara could feel her instructor's impatience as Eponin thought silently. "Ephiny wanted me to find someone to escort the expedition to Duncraig, not a warrior as such, more a…well, an emissary. Someone the noblemen there can deal with and know she's a true Amazon, but someone who won't scare the wits out of them. You remember what happened five years ago?"

"That was not my fault," said Solari hotly, but Tara could hear the amusement in her voice as she allowed Eponin to bait her.

"No, but breaking the prince-nephew's wrist just because he asked for a dance and didn't wait before taking your hand…you see what I mean. I wonder if Ephiny had Tara in mind? She knew you were coming to see me about her."

"Why not?" offered Solari. "She knows everything else that goes on."

"Well, far be it from us to question the wisdom of our queen," said Eponin. "Maybe it'll be what the girl needs, too…she won't have to fight, there'll be guards all the way, our own on the ship and Duncraig's people will join them once they go inland."

"They're good soldiers, for men," allowed Solari.

"And once they reach the court, she'll charm the wits out of them… show off some skill with the bow without having to actually kill anything, attend a few banquets or whatever they do for diplomacy over there."

"But she'll get a chance to see the world," mused Solari, "yes, I see what you mean. It'll be good for her, no doubt…so long as she's safe, mind."

"Kingsport is as strong as it's ever been, and you know Duncraig, a bandit wouldn't go within a hundred miles of the place."

"I'll talk to her," said Solari after a pause, "if she agrees, will you make the arrangements?"

"Of course."

Outside, Tara had already made up her mind. A journey by sea sounded unappealing, since she had never set foot off the island, but the promise of seeing the wonders of the lands of men was too great to let her enthusiasm be damped. And besides, she agreed with Solari's idea – it would do her good to see some more of the world. She wanted to be of some use to someone, to have a chance to do good, and no matter how hard she tried, she knew that she wouldn't be able to do that as a warrior. Perhaps the mainland and its sprawling, ancient kingdoms would open up a new path for her.

Willow fidgeted in her seat, realized she was doing it, and forced herself to be still. She glanced for the hundredth time at the various tapestries and stained-glass windows that gave some color to the hall she was in. Otherwise there was only the cold stone of the church around her.

It had been morning when she had arrived here with Ember, her sponsor, and the woman had vanished within the council chambers, telling her to be patient. She had waited a long time, doing her best to occupy her mind with meditations and ordered thoughts. It wasn't until the sunlight was coming at a low angle through the west-facing windows that the ancient wooden doors swung silently open and Ember emerged. She glanced at Willow as she passed and gave a quick gesture, letting her know she should follow. Ember always liked to walk while she dealt with important things; as Willow fell into step at her sponsor's side she saw they were headed for the church's open cloister, where the gardens had been allowed to ramble all over the place and cover the stone columns with flowering vines.

"The council will see you tomorrow," Ember said once she had picked a flower and begun twirling it slowly through her fingers.

"I see," said Willow, trying to sound calm, for all that the idea of facing the council terrified her.

"Don't worry," said Ember, "it's all been decided already. Oh don't be surprised," she added, seeing Willow's wide eyes, "the session of council is often just a formality. The decisions are made by study and debate, not by arcane rituals. That's just for tradition's sake."

"I see," repeated Willow, now trying not to show her relief. The last thing she wanted was to go before the council and have to argue her case, with perhaps her life in the balance. But if they had already decided-

"Will they…" she began, then trailed off, unsure how to proceed. She was supposed to discover her fate tomorrow, not be told beforehand.

"It's alright," said Ember, "your bravery and initiative were recognized. And the situation was resolved, in the end. The council are cautious, but it is not wise to dwell too much on what might have been, had things turned out differently. I spoke on your behalf."

"Will I be exiled?" Willow asked in a rush, slightly amazed at her own presumption. Ember paused for a moment, then shook her head.

"No," she confirmed, "no, you will remain one of us. But it has been decided that you should not return to Entsteig, at least not for now. You will travel to Kurast, and then by sea to Kingsport. The council has decreed that you should see the magics of Westmarch. In an academic setting only, of course. There are several schools of sorcery with whom our order has good relations, you will travel to them all in time, and broaden your knowledge of their arts. The council feels that when you return to us, your skills will be tempered by greater wisdom."

Willow felt a mild rebuke there, and let her head droop in shame. Ember noticed, and stopped walking for a moment, settling herself with her customary elegance on one of the stone benches ringing the overgrown cloister garden. Willow sat by her side.

"What you did was very dangerous," Ember said, "more than you realize, even now. All magic is a risk. This world is…balanced for humans, good and evil. Magic makes us more than human, and gives us the ability to fight evils that are more than human. But if we are careless or thoughtless, even with the best of intentions we can do great evil, and the world cannot always heal itself as it should. It is the responsibility we bear, as we accept our gifts." She sighed and leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees and looking unusually pensive.

"We cannot know what might have happened," she went on, "whether what you did had a hand in saving many lives, or whether those lives would not have been in danger had you not intervened. We can only pass judgment as best we can, and look to the future."

"Will you come with me?" asked Willow.

"I wish I could," said Ember sadly, "but no. The council has asked me to remain here and assist with the new students." She took a moment to look at Willow, and smiled faintly. "Go now, and rest. I won't see you tomorrow, but my prayers go with you." She stood and embraced Willow gently, then took a step back and gestured that she was dismissed.

Chapter 2

Tara was glad to be back on dry land. The voyage from Tran Athulua had taken a week aboard one of the twin-masted merchantmen that ran the trade route between the Amazon Isles and Kingsport, and while it hadn't exactly been unpleasant, Tara had found that every now and then she needed to get up on deck and fix her eyes on the stable, steady horizon to quell the unusual feeling in her stomach. She had hoped to see one of the giant trade flagships that Solari sometimes talked about, strong enough to brave the wild currents of the channel between the Twin Seas to the north, and reach the wealthy ports of Lut Gholein and Kurast, but they were few and far between, and none were expected to reach the Isles anytime soon.

Still, Tara had not been disappointed in her first experience with sea travel, mild nausea notwithstanding. The merchantman, named the Duchess Olivia, was a sleek vessel, if somewhat wider around the middle than the Amazon sloops Tara had seen moored off the coast of her home island, and Corius Marzon, the ship's captain, was a lively old man who took great and obvious pleasure in regaling his guests, over excellent dinners, with tales of the adventures he had seen in his younger days on the Great Ocean and the Sea of Light, far off to the east. Tara suspected some, if not all, of the stories had grown significantly in the telling over the years – if nothing else, she knew the flight of arrows and spears, which Marzon regularly exceeded in his accounts of the desperate battles he had witnessed – but the captain told a good tale, and she hadn't had the heart to interrupt. She suspected Tryptin, the head of the Amazon mission traveling with her, was equally skeptical, and had heard many of the tales before, but the quiet young man – being a diplomat – naturally let the captain believe he was enthralled by every word.

And after a week of good food, uneventful traveling and Tara wishing the waves would calm down a bit, the horizon of sea gave way to the southern edge of Westmarch. Tara had quickly made sure her few belongings were ready to be offloaded, and spent the rest of the day watching the land grow closer, the tiny dots become wallowing cargo ships and speedy launches, and the blurred shapes on the horizon become the stocky wood and stone buildings of Kingsport. Tara was impressed – she knew the city was one of the largest in Westmarch, the main port of trade for all those from the east who didn't fancy taking their chances with the caravan across the desert wasteland of Aranoch, but until she saw it with her own eyes she hadn't realized the scope of the construction. Everything in Tran Athulua was built in the trees, a part of the world as it had always been – homes, markets, official buildings and temples all supported by the great old trunks, the city a refinement, a civilized reworking of the forest itself. Tara had never before seen such a large community built on the ground, without the forest to support it. She wondered if the natives ever realized how artificial their home was, perched on bare land like a creature huddling down against the cold. Living in such a place seemed as strange as building a house with no supporting beams within it. Then again, she thought, perhaps to the people of Kingsport, the notion of an arboreal city was a fantastic and bizarre thing.

Not that building on open land didn't have its advantages, Tara mused, as she walked across the gangplank between the Duchess Olivia and the stone docks that stretched out into the bay before Kingsport. Until someone found a tree that likes growing with half its trunk underwater the Amazon cities were restricted to carrying out their loading and unloading of ships the old-fashioned way, with flotillas of launches moving between the moored vessels and the beaches. Tara took a moment to look back at the Duchess, which was already having its cargo unloaded by teams of men on the docks, using counterbalanced cranes that swung out over the deck of the ship – it was definitely more efficient.

It would take a few hours for the vessel to be completely offloaded and the Amazon mission to prepare itself to move from the docks, so Tara was free to explore the old city for a little while at least. Tryptin had given her a few pointers on how to get around and what to avoid, but Kingsport was known as a generally safe port for travelers, and Tara knew how to take care of herself if she had to. Besides, she thought with a tiny grin as she made her way along the dock towards the shore, she was not likely to be picked as an easy mark by any loitering robbers. Though the year was making its way inexorably towards winter, Kingsport was far enough south that the winds were still mild, so Tara wore no cloak or robe. Her light leather armor, built for speed and silent movement, was perhaps a little more revealing than she would have liked – strange, she mused to herself, she had never really considered it at home, but here where most people were covered from neck to ankle despite the warm sun on them, she was a little aware of the sidelong glances she was attracting. To be fair, though, the fact that she was carrying Solari's prized spear, Silverstrike, might account for a few of those. Tara's instructor had insisted she take the ancient weapon, a family heirloom that had no warrior heir, with Solari's children being all male. The polished shaft and curved moon-white blade certainly marked Tara as a warrior to passers-by, for all that she felt slightly overwhelmed to be carrying it.

She spent an enjoyable couple of hours browsing the busy markets that clustered around the docks, sampling the spices brought in from a dozen distant lands, and idly wondering what the vendors thought of an Amazon with an interest in cooking. She had drifted to the edge of the markets, near the older part of the city, a maze of two-story stone buildings and twisting alleyways, when she felt a tickle on the back of her neck. She quickly scanned the faces around her, knowing better than to ignore her instincts. Ignoring the boisterous crowds her senses homed in on anything out of place, shifting the buyers and sellers into the background for a moment. She caught a glimpse of a thin female form, underneath a long, hooded cloak, just as it disappeared into an alleyway, and noticed three unkempt-looking men slowly drifting out of the crowd, following her.

She knew at once they meant to rob her – the way they held their arms guaranteed they had weapons hidden up their sleeves, and their gait was uniformly too casual, as they forced themselves to appear to be merely wanderers, rather than the predators they really were. Tara was already moving towards them, sliding between stalls and moving behind the crowd, making sure she was unseen. Getting into a fight was the last thing on her mind, let alone starting one – on her first day in Westmarch, too – but three large men stalking one small woman offended her deeply, more than just the notion of robbery in itself. From their mannerisms and expressions, she judged the men to be nothing special, and hoped that the appearance of an obvious warrior with a lethal-looking spear would be enough to scare them off.

She reached the mouth of the alley barely seconds after the trio had disappeared, and saw as her eyes adjusted to the gloom that the woman had slowed down, seemingly unaware of the danger. The men were almost on top of her, one casually strolling alongside her, intending to overtake her and cut off her escape, the other two moving silently behind her.

"Gentlemen," Tara said loudly, "looking for something?" It wasn't the most inventive challenge – Tara was glad not to have stuttered – but it did the trick. The man in the lead took one look at her and sped up, disappearing around the next corner in his best impression of an innocent bystander. Of the other two, one swore and shot a glance after his vanishing comrade, and the other turned to Tara and let a small cudgel fall out of his sleeve into his hand. Tara raised her spear and let her mind become clear, creating the focus just like Solari had taught her, sending a swift, silent prayer to the goddess Zerae to aid her. A ripple of lightning ran along the shaft of the spear, really nothing more than a demonstration, but as it reached the spear's tip and leapt forward, earthing into the cobblestones at the robbers' feet, it had quite the desired impact. Tara stared levelly at them, and raised an eyebrow when they met her gaze – in truth, she hadn't been able to think of anything to say, but they took her point and ran nonetheless.

"A-are you alright?" she asked the women once her would-be assailants had vanished.

"Oh yesss," came a soft, sensual voice from the shadows beneath the hood, "I was in no dangerrr…but your kindnesss is most grrratifying." Tara nodded her acceptance, even as she tried to place the woman's accent – it was a strange one, hissing and purring alternately. The hood twitched, as if the person beneath it had tilted her head in curiosity.

"You are new in ourrr city, yesss?" she asked.

Tara nodded again, then tried to contain her surprise as the woman drew back her hood and revealed a feline face, with wide, deep eyes, pointed ears and a flattened muzzle, all covered in fur so fine it looked like her skin was a glistening, sleek black, until the points of the tiny hairs caught the light.

"Few would go out of their way to help a strangerrr in a strange city," the feline woman said, as she and Tara walked along the edge of the market.

"I-I'm sorry to hear that," said Tara.

"You're a kind one," the woman said with a very catlike grin. "We have good instincts for people. You have cats in your home place?"

"Yes," Tara said, thinking of the very independent-minded cats that made their homes in the higher branches above the city.

"Well, you know they alwaysss spot who'll give them a rrrub behind the earsss," the woman said. Tara glanced at her, and realized she was making a sly joke.

"Don't get your hopes up," she said, smiling tentatively, "I'm j-just discouraging robbers." The woman grinned widely and made a purring sound that Tara guessed was her version of laughter.

"Heartbrrreaker," she teased. "Hmm, most of your kind act embarrassed if one of us draws attention to what we arrre…you're refreshing," she added with another grin – Tara was noticing she grinned a lot, and found it infectious. They came to a spacious tent set up in a corner of the market, where the cries of the food vendors gave way to the more sedate sounds of various wise men, mystics and fortune-tellers all subtly plying their trade with adventurous travelers.

"I am Mmrrrlrrr," said the feline woman, "as a frrriend, I invite you to my home." She said it formally, like a prayer or ritual, and Tara guessed it was a custom of her people. She thanked her and went inside, finding the tent comfortably-appointed, with a wooden floor and colorful tapestries covering the walls.

"Ma-re-la is alright," the woman said, following Tara in, "I don't think your voicesss quite have the knack of ourrr tongue."

"I'm Tara."

"Ta-rrra," repeated Marela, "good name. Soundsss like 'night-eyesss' in my tongue, a good name."

"Th-thank you," said Tara, seating herself on a pile of cushions as Marela lounged opposite her, instantly looking comfortable and luxurious the way a cat would. "D-does your name translate?"

"You know," said Marela, twitching her tail idly, "I've been in this place five yearsss, and no-one has yet asked me? You're a strange people…just between you and me, in your language, it means 'Miss Kitty'." Tara bit the inside of her cheek to stifle a giggle. "I know," said Marela with a feline stretch, "but my motherrr was a traditionalist…besidesss, it's not an exact trrranslation. Saying it in human makes it sound…cute." She grinned and shrugged.

Tara and Marela chatted idly for a couple of hours, stopping once or twice as a customer peeked tentatively through the flaps of the tent, looking to have their fortune told. Tara sat off to one side on those occasions, as Marela purred in her speech more than usual, went through a few eccentric feline customs involving waving crystals around and scratching patterns on a thin wooden board with her claws, and generally making sure anyone who visited her came away with the impression that they'd got some genuine exotic wisdom. Tara recognized most of it as pure show, but something told her that Marela wove a bit of real magic into her act, dropping innocuous comments and advice into her spiel that seemed to take her customers by surprise.

When Tara finally had to take her leave of her new friend, seeing the sun beginning to set and knowing she should spend the night with the caravan, even though it wouldn't set out until the next morning, Marela asked her to wait a moment. Digging through a pile of cushions, which seemed to be the sole form of furniture for a feline, she produced a tiny amulet on a silver chain, which she offered to Tara.

"A token of grrratitude," she said, "for your selflessness, and your company. My pride is farrr away in the land your kind call Kehjistan, but if you should ever find yourself there, they will greet you as a guest, and know by thisss token that you are frrriendly to us." Tara thanked her and put on the amulet, which she thought matched her armor and spear nicely.

"And if you ever rrreconsider that rrrub behind the earsss," Marela added, her eyes wide, "you know where to find me, mmm." She winked at Tara and wound her arm in the material of the tent flap, letting her robe fall open at the side just enough for Tara to catch a glimpse of the side of her body and her leg, all covered in silky black fur and nothing else, except a stripe of white running up her thigh.

"Th-thank you," she stuttered, knowing Marela was teasing – well, half-teasing, at least – but still not quite sure how to respond. The feline smiled and disappeared back into her tent as Tara took a last glance back, then made her way out into the market.

She arrived back at the docks just as the sun was finally setting. The docklands and markets were still lit by dozens of torches, almost as bright as day, and Tara had no trouble finding the space where the Amazon mission had set itself up. Half a dozen wagons were surrounded by various teamsters, Amazon merchants and a contingent of Kingsport guards, a mere formality in peacetime, but one the city gratefully extended to the visiting Amazons, knowing full well how valuable they would be as allies if times turned worse. Tryptin was chatting easily with the lieutenant commanding the guards, and took a moment out to direct Tara to the covered wagon she would be traveling in when they went on the road the next day.

"Oh," he added as Tara was walking away, "there's another traveler in there with you, hope you don't mind. Apprentice wizard or something, her credentials checked out, she'll be with us as far as Duncraig. Call me if you need anything." He didn't seem concerned at all, so neither was Tara as she drew back the canvas flap covering the rear of the wagon and stepped up and inside.

"Oh! Um, hi," said a voice from inside. As Tara's eyes adjusted to the low light of a single lamp, she saw a slim young woman sitting among a pile of bags and satchels, an open book in her hands, her bright eyes staring at Tara in wonder.

"I'm Willow," the woman said.

Willow finally finished stowing her traveling gear and satchels in the wagon and sat down among them with an exhausted sigh. She had been taught to travel light, and could survive for weeks with only the wilderness and the contents a small backpack to keep her going, but her training had omitted certain aspects of life on the road. Specifically, how to cope with being used as a pack-mule for the Order's library.

She frowned, remembering her appearance before the council. They had, at the time, seemed quite reasonable, much more like kindly old women than the stern matriarchs Willow had expected. Their speaker, a sorceress in her mid-fifties wearing white robes, had done her best to put Willow at ease as she stood before them, intimidated both by her surroundings and the knowledge of the power the council had over her. Ahead of her sat the council, six sorceresses in pairs representing the three elemental schools, and behind each pair stood one of the blind Oracles, who were the most sought-after type of initiate, and who never left the church once they had been brought in. To one side of the council, on Willow's right, stood a column of sandstone, deep red even in the gloom of the council chamber, seeming to glow from within – fire. To her left, a column of obsidian covered in an oily film that crackled softly as tiny sparks ran across it – lightning. Behind her stood the third column, made of ice that never melted, and she privately wondered if it was coincidence that the element she was most attuned to was the one positioned out of her view. The speaker, she noted, was from the lightning triad, and none of the ice triad ever spoke during her hearing, except to quietly pass their decision to the speaker.

"It has been decided," the speaker had said, her kind voice taking on an unfamiliar formality, "that while your courage and your desire to serve are proven, your natural aptitude towards magic has left you wanting in the more scholarly aspects of our tradition. It is as much our failing as any other's that you lack this insight, for all those we take among us are unique, and we forget that at our peril. Nevertheless, the failing has occurred, and must be rectified before you may return to Entsteig and your training.

"We therefore bestow upon you the duty to be our representative among the great schools of magics in Westmarch and Khanduras. It is necessary that one of our Order visit these places, for while their magics are not ours, and we do not wish them to be, our devotion to the pure magic of the elements does not mandate that we go in ignorance of lesser mages.

"You will be given funds and authority to study with mages and tutors who, though outsiders, are known and trusted by our Order. You will not practice their magics, but you will understand them, and bring your understanding to us when you return. They will no doubt give you many books and manuscripts for our library, but written words can only go so far – we require the insight that only first-hand knowledge can bring.

"While you perform this service to the Order, it is our hope that you will come to better understand our place within the world, and the place of our magics within the magic of nature. Thus you will acquire the learning we have so far neglected to offer you, and know why it is that we devote ourselves only to the purest ways.

"So speak the Zann Esu."

It had sounded good at the time, for Willow had always been aware that the requirements of the Order seemed unnecessarily restrictive, particularly their sole devotion to elemental magic. Yet all her tutors and seniors, including many powerful, wise women – Ember not least among them – accepted it without question. Willow was not so headstrong as to assume that they were merely afraid of other magics, so clearly there was a good reason, but so far she had failed to discover what it was. She had been told that impure magics were dangerous, liable to fail in unfortunate ways, or to cause untold harm to their practitioners, but that was true of any magic. Certainly elemental magic had more than its share of dangers attached, as any fool could see – trying to control a bolt of lightning strong enough to shatter a boulder, or an inferno that could melt steel, with only the power of one's mind was not a pursuit for the faint-hearted. Perhaps, then, the council had been right, and Willow did need to see other magics for herself, to find out why they were different.

She was now coming to believe, however, that her assignment to this task was more a matter of convenience than design. Following the instructions she had been given, she spent her first day in Kingsport after a tempestuous voyage through the Twin Seas seeking out four old mages who had made their homes in the city, two of them attached to the reformed Horadrim church, one of them a cleric of some minor order Willow wasn't too sure she understood, and the last a wizened old alchemist who, by the look of things, hadn't left his laboratory since before the Reckoning twenty years ago. Each of them had politely welcomed her, retrieved various scrolls, leather-bound volumes, maps and charts for her to take back to the Order, and just as politely shuffled her back out the door again. Grumbling to herself while stowing all of them in waterproof satchels and finding space for them in the wagon she had been placed in by the caravan master, she wondered if the council had just wanted her out of the way for a while.

The next morning Willow was surprised to see people being turned away from the caravan. This in itself was not unusual – when she had been in Entsteig there had always been more travelers seeking the safety of the caravans than could be accommodated, and the road between Kingsport and Duncraig saw far more travelers than anywhere in the north, even with the wealthy avoiding it in favor of the luxurious riverboats. But, so far as Willow could see, she and a pair of men – a gemstone dealer and his bodyguard, in the third wagon – were the only passengers among the half a dozen wagons.

After breakfast she asked Shan, the caravan master, what was going on in one of the rare moments when he wasn't being beset by hopeful merchants and travelers.

"Big party coming in today," he explained, in the terse manner Willow was beginning to think was a habit for him, "ship arrives soon, the Duchess Olivia. Booked the whole caravan months ago. Only needed five wagons, and we've got six, otherwise you and Jasken," he indicated the gem dealer, who was haggling with a trader outside his wagon, "would've had to wait. Diplomatic expedition, to the Baron's palace, then up to Duncraig to see the Regent. We'll take on new passengers then." He turned away as a group of wealthy-looking men began trying to bargain with him.

The caravan was parked near the docks, with only a handful of stalls and tents separating them. Willow kept out of the way of the teams of men moving cargo about, and found a foreman who didn't look like he had anything vital to do at the moment. She frowned as his eyes went to her figure first, but he straightened up and behaved more respectably once he noticed the Zann Esu sash around her waist and the staff in her hand, the wood inlaid with glittering veins of crystal.

"Ma'am," he said, adopting what he evidently hoped was a sufficiently contrite expression.

"Has the Duchess Olivia arrived yet?" Willow asked.

"No, ma'am," the foreman said hurriedly, "not yet, she's due this morning though and by all account the weather's been good on her course, so she should be in sight any time now. Are you boarding her, ma'am?"

"No," said Willow, "just meeting the passengers."

"Oh," said the foreman. "They're from Philios, you know, ma'am," he added hesitantly. Having not been turned into a frog, or whatever he seemed to fear was the result of inadvertently checking out a sorceress, he seemed to be regaining his nerve.

"Is that so?" said Willow icily. The foreman nodded, glanced around, hastily bowed a farewell and scampered away. Willow stared out to sea for a moment, wondering if any of the dim blurs on the horizon were ships, or just her imagination, then wandered back to her wagon.

She thought 'Philios' sounded like somewhere up on the Westmarch peninsula, but she couldn't find it there when she consulted one of the maps she had been given from the Order's library. She found a larger-scale map and scanned it lazily, hoping the name would catch her eye – the cartographers employed by the Order seemed to favor detail over clarity sometimes. She glanced over the coastline of Westmarch, the Gulf and even Entsteig, just in case she hadn't heard of the place when she had been there, all without result. It was only when she was on the verge of folding the map away that she chanced on the name, and her eyes widened. She double-checked, but she had read it correctly: Skovos, Lycander, Philios – the Amazon Isles.

Well, she thought, this should be interesting. She had never met an Amazon, but Ember had sometimes mentioned them, on the rare occasions she spoke of the Reckoning. Willow searched through the provisions she had brought with her, and found what she was looking for. Before she had been sent to Entsteig, Ember had given her a book she had written, a notebook she had made during her own travels. It was a rambling, disorganized volume the older woman had added to whenever she had thought something worth recording, but perhaps… Willow flipped through the pages, past instructions for mixing herbs, how to bury the dead to prevent reanimation, the methods of creating various staves imbued with elemental powers, what various shapes of clouds revealed about the state of the winds in the sky and sketches of dozens of minor predators, including instructions for dealing with them. Finally a quick drawing of a spear caught her eye – Amazons were spearwomen, she knew – and she read in more detail.

'It would no doubt amuse many to know,' Ember had written, 'that the reclusive Amazons are, in fact, among us in all the nations of Sanctuary. Though most, besides the nobility, hear only wild rumors of warrior-women, there are in truth as many men as women who serve the Amazon nation. And while the women, great warriors and mages after a fashion, remain on their island homes to protect them, their men travel widely as merchants, diplomats, teachers and apprentices in all trades. Thus their nation remains in contact with those of the mainland, their people learn new skills and crafts, and the majority of their women take husbands and live in a fashion not very much dissimilar to that of other nations, which would no doubt come as something of a disappointment to the brainless alcoholics who frequent the taverns around here, and tell lurid tales of tribes of women and their sexual exploits, which would, I imagine, cause a real Amazon to laugh aloud, were any of these fools to tell their tales in her presence. I must find better lodgings.' Part of the problem with Ember's notebook was that, though she was a perceptive observer of practically every aspect of the world around her, she tended to get sidetracked when it came to writing things down, particularly on her travels when she hadn't had the peace and quiet of the Order's church. Willow skimmed the next couple of paragraphs, which complained some more about the less sober denizens of Khanduras, where Ember had evidently been while she wrote this section, and related an amusing incident involving a man who hadn't known better than to make an indecent suggestion to a sorceress, and had left the tavern swearing never to drink again, unharmed but with his clothes burned to ash.

'It seems that this time of chaos,' Ember had written a few days later, 'has drawn the warriors of the Amazon nation out of their seclusion, so that they walk among us and sometimes, if one is fortunate, can be persuaded to exchange a little of their knowledge. My companion of the last few days is quite amiable, though she affects a stern countenance in public, and I have learned as much about her ways of magic as she has learned about the elements from me. Of the reason for her presence in this place at this time she has been vague, and I suspect that behind this secrecy lies some source of knowledge akin to our oracles. But it is certain that, as our Order has, the Amazons too have foreseen the rise of the Prime Evils, and sent their finest warriors to aid the cause of order.' She seemed to have stopped writing for a while there, because the next paragraph was in a different ink, and on the subject of the mastery of fire magic, which Ember had studied all her life. Willow searched the surrounding pages for more details, but there seemed to be none.

She had to admit she was a little disappointed. She had assumed there were Amazon men, of course – how else would they get more Amazons? – but she would have liked to have met a warrior. But the Reckoning, the great battle against the Prime Evils, had been twenty years ago, and since then the Amazon women had been just as scarce as they had been before. Willow doubted a diplomatic expedition to Duncraig required the presence of any warriors. She had been forming the idea of waiting on the docks, to watch the Amazons arrive, but though she was sure their men would be amiable enough traveling companions, she couldn't quite muster any enthusiasm.

She sighed and returned the notebook and maps to their satchels, then went out in search of supplies and lunch. Afterwards, for want of anything else to do, she came back to the wagon and read some more of Ember's notebook, picking a page at random and discovering all sorts of things she had never really considered about minor demons, the wielding of a staff as a melee weapon in an emergency, and which parts of the imp species called 'Fallen' were edible, if the only other option was starvation. Ember had led an adventurous life. Willow saw the name Deckard Cain in the text, surprised that her sponsor had met the famous Horadrim scholar before he disappeared, and began vaguely searching through a copy of one of his manuscripts that she had acquired the previous day. Unlike Ember, the old man seemed to have an aversion to writing down anything he didn't consider absolutely necessary – the text dealt mainly with the relations between various species of demons, and read like a particularly dull textbook. Willow was just about to stow her books and head out for dinner when someone pulled up the canvas flap at the back of the wagon and climbed inside.

"Oh!" exclaimed Willow, seeing torchlight, not sunlight, outside, and realizing how long she had been reading. "Um, hi," she added, as her visitor reacted to her. Willow had greeted her automatically, and only now took in what she was seeing: an athletic figure, clothed in leather armor, which was cut to allow a lot of freedom of movement, and – Willow tried not to stare at the woman's ample cleavage, on display as she climbed into the wagon – leaving no doubt that the Amazons had brought a warrior along after all. Willow fixed her gaze resolutely on the Amazon's face – the last thing she wanted was to offend her – and found a surprisingly gentle gaze staring back at her, not at all the stern Valkyrie warrioress she had imagined.

"I'm Willow," she heard herself say.

Chapter 3

Tara hesitantly brushed her hair out of her eyes.

"I-I'm Tara," she said, smiling at her companion. She hadn't really given it much thought when Tryptin had told her she'd be traveling with an apprentice wizard, but a vague notion of a pale-skinned boy in pretentious robes and a pile of books had passed through her mind. Instead, she found herself sharing the wagon with an attractive redhead with a spritely smile, robes that were cut with far more style than Tara would have expected, and if her skin was pale, it didn't exactly put Tara in mind of someone who never saw the sun, so much as make her entertain some surprising thoughts about what it would feel like to touch. In deference to stereotypes, however, she was in the middle of a pile of books.

"So, you're an Amazon, huh?" asked Willow, and before Tara could give the obvious answer, she went on: "Well, yeah, obviously you are, I guess you don't get many cases of mistaken identity with the armor and the spear and all…"

"No," agreed Tara. "I m-mean, yes. Yes, I'm an Amazon," she explained at Willow's confused stare, "and no, not much mistaken identity…it's the spear."

"And the armor," insisted Willow, "I'm sure people just look at that armor and think, 'yep, she's an Amazon all right'…because it's Amazon-y armor, not for any other reason with people looking at you, of course…I really don't know what I'm saying," she finished pleadingly.

"Um, we c-could start again?" suggested Tara, too caught up in the surprise and the momentum of the conversation to think straight. "Hi, I'm Tara?"

"Hi, I'm Willow," said Willow. "You're right, that went much better."

"I thought so."

"Friendly yet dignified."

Tara saw Willow set her jaw, and their eyes locked for a long moment. Both of them broke into a fit of laughter at the same time. Once Tara had managed to rein herself back to a grin she pulled her spear fully inside the wagon, and leaned out to grab her pack and bow from where she had left them on the ground.

"Here, let me get that," offered Willow, sliding herself forward to help Tara with the spear. "Unless it's some sort of mortal offence to, you know, touch an Amazon's spear, it isn't, is it? Cause if it is, I'm sorry," she finished in a small voice.

"Um, it isn't, a-and thanks," said Tara, handing her the spear and, with both hands, hauling her pack up into the wagon. "It's not really mine anyway, my instructor gave it to me for the trip. Will it fit?"

"Yep," said Willow, kicking one of her satchels out of the way to make room for the weapon. She noticed the odd way the light of the lamp was reflecting off its shaft.

"Oh wow," she said, entranced by it, "is that electrum?"

"Um, I-I don't really know," said Tara, stowing her pack and sitting by Willow's side, "it's an old weapon, it's been in my instructor's family for generations. Th-there's only a couple of people who know how they're made, I'm really not sure."

Willow nodded absently, her eyes following the veins of metal buried in the polished wood. It suddenly occurred to her that her new companion might not want her going over every detail of her weapon, especially if it was as unique as she said. It was probably a secret Amazon design, or something. She helped Tara store the spear up against the wagon's side, where it wouldn't get in the way, and started moving her satchels up into a corner.

"Sorry about this," she explained, "I got a bit distracted reading, or I'd have cleaned up a bit before you got here. I was going to watch your ship come on, but I guess I lost track of time. Um, did you have a good journey?"

"Yes, it was…nice," said Tara, not really sure how to describe her non-eventful trip. "Were y-you waiting long?"

"Oh, no, I got here yesterday, and I had people to see…I'm sort of on a learning expedition, hence the traveling library."

"O-our negotiator said y-you were a-an apprentice," said Tara hesitantly, "d-do you have a…a master, or mistress, or someone?"

"No, just me," answered Willow, "I'm not an apprentice… well, I am sort of, but…my Order doesn't do apprentices, exactly, we have sponsors who, I guess, take care of us, but it's more of a group thing, we learn from everyone. But at the moment it's just me, anyway."

"H-have you h-had d-dinner?" ventured Tara, as Willow paused for breath.

"No, not yet, I've got some camp food, you're welcome to have some if you want, but it's a bit, you know, ration-y and boring…"

"Th-there's a tavern just nearby," suggested Tara, "I was going to try there. I-if you'd like to come?"

"Sure," beamed Willow.

There was a sign outside the tavern, in Westlin and Khejan, letting the patrons know that weapons were strictly forbidden. Tara was about to go back to the caravan and ask Tryptin to mind the spear – she hadn't wanted to leave it unattended in the wagon – when the barkeep hurried outside and, in his best attempt at a formal manner, invited the two women in, promising his best table and making a tongue-tied mess of reciting the day's special dishes. Willow, who had noticed Tara's hesitation at the sign, caught her eye and shrugged.

"Maybe having an Amazon stop by is good for the place's reputation," she suggested, as the barkeep darted away for a moment to harass one of the serving boys. He returned a moment later, ushering them through the main room to the far side, where there was a row of two-person tables, separated from each other by thin wooden partitions and offering a view of the marketplace outside. The serving boy scurried to the corner table and laid a cloth over it, and one over each seat, while the barkeep led them through the crowd. The tavern's patrons, a fairly civilized lot all things considered, made way grudgingly for the barkeep, and quickly for Tara. Willow glared at one of them, whose eyes slid inexorably to the rear view of Tara as she passed, then smiled wryly at herself.

"This is pretty good," she said as she sat down, passing her staff to Tara, who leant it and her spear in the corner, out of reach of anyone passing by the table. A light breeze wafting over the markets kept the air fresh, with a hint of exotic spices and pleasant-smelling who-knows-what from the stalls outside, and the men crowded at the bar and the tables around it were cheerfully alcoholic, by the sounds of it, rather than outright noisily drunk.

"I-is it?" said Tara. "I mean, yes, I like it…this is the first tavern I've been to. Away from home, I mean. So, you know, as far as I know they're all like this."

"Well, I've stayed in my share of taverns in Entsteig," Willow said with a rueful grin, "and trust me, you don't want to know how loud a roomful of drunk men can get. For a harbor city, this is very nearly civilized." On cue, a roar of laughter erupted from the other side of the bar, where someone had managed to land a dart in the dartboard backwards. "More or less," Willow amended. The serving boy appeared, obviously having been instructed to be on his most formal best behavior, bowing and saying 'ma'am' a lot more than necessary. Willow thought the soup sounded good, while Tara chose a salad.

"It's not really that different to home, I guess," said Tara a moment later, her eyes scanning the crowd.

"No?" asked Willow, giving Tara her full attention.

"Apart from the women, I mean," Tara went on, "at home it'd be the women getting drunk and being loud, and the men sort of good-naturedly putting up with them. Here it's the other way around." She watched as a man in the middle of the room burped impressively, them shamefacedly apologized to his companion, who rolled her eyes.

"Most of them probably don't know there are Amazon men," said Willow, remembering Ember's notebook. She added in a low voice, with a sly smile: "I think it'd spoil their fantasies if they knew." Tara stifled a giggle, and blushed adorably.

"Th-there are stories that go around in the training barracks," she said, "that the men overhear when they travel, and bring back, about what people think Amazons are like. It's kind of funny, really…this fantasy image of dominating seductresses with no armor and enormous…" she gestured vaguely at her chest. "I mean, yes, most women are warriors, but…well, we're still just people. Most warriors, once they've served their time in the prides, find a man and settle down."

"Oh," said Willow, and then, for no reason she could pin down, added: "Most?" Tara seemed surprised by the question, and didn't meet Willow's gaze, dipping her head instead to hide her eyes behind her hair.

"M-men aren't for e-everyone," she said quietly. There was an uncomfortable silence for a moment, as Willow tried to think of something to say, until Tara abruptly asked: "S-so, you're from Entsteig?"

"Oh, not originally," said Willow, glad to be clear of the unexpected undertone the conversation was causing in her, "I was sent there, part of my training. The Order has a city in Kehjistan, up-river from Kurast…it's kind of a secret, but it doesn't really matter, there's a lot of 'up-river from Kurast' to get lost in if you don't know where you're going. I was born up on the Westmarch peninsula, but the Order came and took me when was seven."

"Took you?" asked Tara, confused.

"Yep. Oh, not like grabbing me in the middle of the night, or anything," Willow hastened to explain, "no, it's how the Order works, they assess girls who might have the talent for magic, and those that do get to go with them and train. It's an honor, really…I actually can't remember my parents ever being happier than when I was chosen," she added, with a slight hint of resentfulness. Tara decided to steer clear of the subject of Willow's parents.

"Seven years old," she said instead, searching her memory. "You're a Zann Esu?"

"Yep," confirmed Willow, "that's me. I guess you heard of us somewhere."

"My instructor," Tara explained, "she met a sorceress once. She told me a little about her."

"All good, I hope?" joked Willow. "We used to be really big with the secrecy, but since the Reckoning the Order's kept a presence in a few cities here and there. We don't travel in disguise anymore, we used to, you know. My sponsor said that when she traveled during the Reckoning, it was the first time in a thousand years that a sorceress had been seen outside the church – that's our city, ages ago it was just the one building, it's expanded a lot but we still call it that – what was I saying? – oh, yes, the first time a sorceress had traveled as a sorceress. Not in disguise, I mean. Part of the training used to be social skills, how to blend in anywhere, pretend to be anyone."

"Like us," said Tara. "Amazons, I mean. Amazon men – they travel, but no-one knows who they are."

"Right," agreed Willow, "it used to be a big clandestine operation thing. That was way before my time, of course. Ember – my sponsor – says the whole point was that no-one outside the Order knew we existed, so none of the evil forces that were coming could plan against us. Then the evil forces did come, and Ember and the others, the best the Order had, went out and fought the Reckoning. And now it's all over, people are used to seeing sorceresses around."

"Your sponsor fought in the Reckoning?" asked Tara. "Actually in the campaign itself?"

"I think so," said Willow, "she doesn't talk about it much. She drops hints now and then. Just between us, I think she likes being mysterious." Tara grinned.

"So you came here from Entsteig?" she asked, after a pause while their meals arrived.

"Not quite," said Willow, "I was supposed to finish my training there, but there was a problem…there was an accident. I tried to help, but I didn't…I didn't work magic the way a sorceress is supposed to. It all worked out alright in the end," she added, with a smile Tara could sense was covering up something painful, "but it could've gone badly. So I went back to the church, for the Council, the heads of the Order, to decide what to do with me."

"They sent you here?" asked Tara.

"Here, Duncraig, Westmarch," Willow explained, "There's a lot of mages and sorcerers, not part of the Order, but friendly to it. I'm supposed to study with them, so I can learn more about the nature of magic. Something like that. The Order just teaches elemental magic, and the Council decided I needed to know how other sorts of magic worked."

"Oh," said Tara. "So that you can do other sorts of magic?"

"So I can not do them," said Willow with a regretful frown. "The Zann Esu are elementalists only…before the Reckoning, all of the mage clans except ours had problems with corruption, demons tricking mages into serving them, or becoming too powerful and dangerous. The Esu witches, when they formed the Zann Esu, decided to practice only elemental magic, because the elements are pure, they can't contain demonic influence. They decided the only way to avoid becoming tainted was to avoid all other magic completely. Even with the Reckoning done, there's still demons around, and the Council is still pretty wary of other kinds of magic. They didn't exactly say so, but I think they're hoping I'll learn that all magic other than the elements are dangerous, and stop being interested in them."

"You don't agree?" asked Tara.

"I do, kind of," admitted Willow with a frown, "some magic is just plain suicidal…demonic magic, for instance, summoning a demon and trying to get it to do what you want isn't really the brightest idea. Not that that stops people, though – it's easy, that's the problem, the demons want to be summoned, so any fool can do it if they find the right book. Still, I used to wonder if there was something to learn in it. Not actually summoning," she added quickly, "but just studying demons, seeing how they work, how they can exist here, how to send them back where they came from." She stopped, and smiled at herself.

"And that's what the Council was worried about, and they're right," she said sadly, "you start off with some girl wondering how you reverse a simple summoning, and then she gets too interested in demonology, and before you know it you've got the next Bartuc on your hands."

"Th-the next who?" Tara asked.

"Hm? Oh, an old mage," Willow said, "he wasn't careful enough with his magic, and ended up decimating his clan when the demons got control of him. That all happened ages ago…third century, I think. The mage war between Bartuc and his brother were what drove the Esu witches into seclusion, or maybe it was just after that. Doesn't matter. That's the problem, though, most of the clans forbid some sorts of magic, but there's always some bratty kid who wants to know why. That's me," she added with a smile.

"Wow," said Tara. "I-I never knew it was so complicated."

"You have magic, don't you?" asked Willow. "Amazons, I mean."

"Um, I suppose," Tara said hesitantly, "sort of magic. Well, it's not our magic, it comes from our gods. Some of them watch over our warriors, a-and we can use their power. If we can call on it, that's the tricky part. It's called creating a focus, we do it with spears and bows, because they're our traditional weapons, and they're part of who the gods are. There's a way of," she concentrated, wondering how to explain it, "making the weapon into something that is almost magical, a-a place where magic can be. Not everyone can do it. But when you do, it means that you can tap a little of the powers of the gods, and bring them into the world through the focus, through the weapon."

"I've never heard of magic working like that," said Willow, whose eyes had fixed on Tara in fascination as she had described it. "Can you do it?"

"Yes," admitted Tara, "I've got a sort of talent for it. It runs in families, not always, but often. I'll show you some time, if you'd like."

"Sure! I'd love to see how you do it."

Willow was just starting to enjoy her soup when a shadow fell across the table. She and Tara looked up to see a broad-shouldered man, who evidently had a decent cargo of beer aboard, and sported a protruding stomach that said it wasn't the first time.

"Hello ladies," he said with an over-familiar grin, "like some company?"

"N-no thank you," said Tara politely, but coldly. He didn't take the hint.

"Must be lonely, just the two of you? Come on, I'll buy you both a drink."

"We're not drinking," said Willow, assuming what she hoped would be an intimidating glare.

"Why not? S'good for you, having a drink after a long day's work. Hey," he added, leering at Willow, "that's a nice outfit. C'mon, gimme your hand, we'll have a dance."

Tara reached back to the shaft of her spear – just for a quick shock, nothing more, she promised herself – but to her surprise Willow's hand was already reaching lazily up towards the man. He began to reach for it, but stopped instantly as the air in front of him began to turn white. Between Willow's fingertips and his face a freezing mist appeared, and in an instant coalesced into a sharp icicle, with tiny slivers and barbs all over it. It was there for just the briefest fraction of a second, then it melted away in a flash, leaving only a wet stain of condensation on the man's tunic, and another patch of wetness lower down that was entirely of his own making.

He stood rooted to the spot for a second, then lurched backwards in fright, into the none-too-gentle arms of the barkeep, who manhandled him around into the arms of a pair of the tavern's patrons, who in turn hauled him out the door.

"My deepest apologies, ladies," the barkeep was meanwhile insisting, "I turned my back for a second, I swear…he's not dangerous, of course, or I wouldn't have him in here, just sometimes he gets a bit too cheerful, if you know what I mean, but that's no excuse, I know, I can't think what to say…the meals are on the house, of course, I couldn't ask anything after letting you be interrupted like that…"

"I-it's no problem," said Tara, somewhat taken aback by the barkeep's profuse apologies, and his habit of bowing when nervous.

"Oh, you're too gracious, ladies, you really are," he said, with yet another bow. "But I insist, I won't sleep at night taking your money." Willow and Tara couldn't budge him, and after a moment it became clear that he was only becoming more agitated as they politely argued.

"Well, I suppose that solves the problem of who gets the bill," Tara said with a shy smile after the barkeep had gone back to his bar.

"Guess so," agreed Willow. "Hey, I bet that guy hasn't gone far.. if we catch up with him, we could take him with us, we'd never have to pay for meals again." Tara laughed, which made Willow laugh, and the barkeep, seeing them from across the room, heaved a sigh of relief at not having unwittingly brought some sort of Amazonian curse of vengeance on his head. Nice girls, he thought to himself as he attended to his customers, very polite, you'd hardly know they were jungle warrioresses at all. He found himself vaguely wishing he were twenty years younger, and not married, but then again, judging by the looks and laughs the pair were exchanging, he wouldn't have had a chance anyway. He confined himself to making sure his remaining patrons didn't do anything stupid and staring down anyone who seemed to be glancing over at the pair of women too regularly. He felt vaguely relieved when they finished their meals and got up to leave, but the pair of smiles he received when he showed them out made it all worthwhile.

Chapter 4

Willow woke up for the fourth time, blearily blinking her eyes. This time is was sunlight, not torchlight, that glowed through the canvas cover on the wagon, so she reluctantly decided it was time to get up. For a moment she longed for her room back at the hospice in Entsteig, where she had generally slept soundly and late. The feeling of gently sliding out of sleep, curled up in a warm bed and thoroughly rested, was always well worth the stern glances she had received from her tutors when she arrived for lessons ten minutes late. 'But of course,' she thought with a frown, 'the hospice is gone now.' She shut down that train of thought at once, and silently cursed traveling in general, which seemed to upset her sleeping patterns.

She rubbed her eyes for a moment, then rolled over. Tara was sleeping peacefully beside her – the wagon afforded them just enough space to lay their bedrolls out side by side, without ending up on top of each other. Willow smiled at the thought, then her face creased into a confused frown as she contemplated the reason why.

'First time I've felt that way about a girl,' she mused. Then again, it occurred to her that she'd never really felt 'that way' about anyone, male or female. She wondered why she felt so unsettled by the notion. While the world in general regarded love between two women – or two men, almost as frequently – as something to be frowned upon, if not actively persecuted, the Order had always rejected such arbitrary discrimination out of hand. Willow wondered if it was an ideological matter, or simply the fact that all sorceresses, up until recently, had lived their entire adult lives in a city populated almost solely by women. Well, she reasoned, it was hardly surprising that many of the Order's women turned to each other when they felt the need for companionship and love. And from what Tara had said the night before, there was no particular stigma attached to it in Amazon society either.

Of course, the Order's official position was that romantic relationships of any sort were liable to distract a sorceress from her pursuit of mastery of the pure elements. Unofficially, however, the Order recognized that most people, if denied the opportunity to have some sort of intimate relationship – even if only a casual fling now and then – would go a bit strange in the head. So far as Willow knew, the Order had always turned a blind eye to the personal activities of its sorceresses, so long as there was no threat to the Order, or the purity of its members. Of course, that last point tended to rule out the notion of a sorceress getting involved with a mage of any sort…but not necessarily, Willow had a vague notion that, several times, magic users from other orders had been granted special dispensation by the Council to live in the church city. She wondered what the Council's attitude towards Amazon magic was. The way Tara had described it, it sounded like a novel combination of prime magic and holy magic, neither of which were inherently corrupt in the eyes of the Order…

At that point, Willow stopped and wryly marveled at her own ability to get lost in her flights of fancy. She had known Tara all of half a day, and already she was contemplating how best to approach the Council for permission to take her as her partner. 'You could at least ask her first,' she jokingly chided herself.

She remembered how, more than a year ago, Ember had given her advice on the matter of love and infatuation, when Willow had been training at the hospice and one of the trainee doctors had taken more than a casual liking to her. He had been quite persistent, in a sweet way, and she had eventually gone to her sponsor for advice on how to discourage him without hurting his feelings unduly.

'Oh, gods, first love,' she had sighed with a smile, 'well, he'll get his feelings hurt one way or another, but he'll get over it. That's how it goes – everyone, more or less, is certain that their first love is the one and only love of their life. Don't ask me why, it's nothing to do with fire, except in the poetic sense, so it's not my field of expertise. Besides, I doubt anyone really understands why people are the way they are, not even the gods themselves – that's why they take such an interest in us, because we surprise them constantly.'

'So it's just a phase?' Willow had asked, slightly worried at the apparent intensity of the boy's affection for her – she would be relieved to find that it was something he would get over, and that her refusal wouldn't doom him to a life of solitary longing.

'Probably,' Ember had said. 'If you don't have feelings for him, don't try to manufacture them just because you feel obligated to – that wouldn't work, even if he were completely sincere. No, poor choice of words – he's sincere, but…well, he's a young man in love for the first time, that's just how it works. In all likelihood, he'll move on, and fall for someone else, and after a while he'll have grown up enough to make a good partner for somebody.' She shrugged. 'That's first love for you.'

'Seems kind of a shame,' Willow had mused, half to herself.

'I know,' Ember had said quietly, 'but he'll get over it. Just as you will with your first. Then again, maybe you'll be one of the charmed few for whom first love is true love.' Willow had studied her sponsor's face, looking for a trace of humor, but she seemed completely serious. She noticed Willow's scrutiny.

'Stranger things have happened,' she had said, 'believe me.'

Willow considered her situation dispassionately, or at least the closest she could manage having just woken up from a not particularly restful sleep. 'So, Willow,' she asked herself, 'do you really love her? Or is it just a passing infatuation, and are you letting your emotions get the better of you?'

She had to conclude that evidence pointed to the latter. She barely knew Tara, having spent less time with her than with some fellow trainees that she hadn't known well enough even to consider friends. She knew little of the girl's life, her experiences, what they had in common and how they differed. And, for that matter, she was traveling alone for the first time in her life, on an assignment that virtually ensured she would feel lonely and unimportant for a while. So was it any surprise that she found herself responding in such a magnetic way to this attractive young woman who was to share her life, as a traveling companion at least, for the foreseeable future? Particularly seeing as, if her behavior the previous night was anything to judge by, she was preternaturally warm and kind? In all likelihood, Willow concluded, her apparent attraction to Tara was simply a matter of Tara having provided a kind influence at a point when Willow's life was looking fairly glum. It would presumably pass in due course, and the best thing, she decided, would be to ignore her infatuation and not let herself get distracted by it. She nodded to herself, as if trying to cement her resolve.

She then spent the next half an hour lying still, watching Tara sleep.

'Okay, forget that plan, it's a stupid plan,' she thought to herself after ten minutes. A moment later she noticed that Tara, lying on her back, was snoring ever so softly. Willow thought it was the most adorable thing she had ever heard.

'Oh yeah,' she thought to herself, around the twenty minute mark, 'you've got it bad.'

"Whatcha thinking?"

"Hmm?" Tara seemed surprised by the question, and apparently hadn't noticed that Willow had been studying her remote, intent expression for the past few minutes as the caravan moved slowly out of the city. With the skies clear they had rolled up the canvas roof of the wagon, and had both been silently taking in the view as the caravan captain called back to his deputies and the procession of vehicles and beasts got underway. After a moment their surroundings were completely new to them, as they moved away from the docks and markets, through streets lined with houses and small stores, and even a few small parks, each with its own well and a statue representing some figure of importance. The Amazon men had all found positions on the wagons and carts that allowed them good views of the scenery. Tara had done likewise, and after a little while Willow had found herself trying to work out what was prompting her odd, thoughtful expression.

"You looked like you were thinking interesting thoughts," Willow explained.

"Oh," said Tara, "well, I don't know if you'd call it interesting…I was just thinking of something I noticed yesterday. Or m-maybe just something I'm imagining, I don't know." She glanced at Willow, who put on her best intrigued expression, which was enough for her to continue. She gestured vaguely to the buildings on either side of them.

"The whole city seems…" she paused, looking for the right word, "transient, I guess. Compared to home, I mean."

Willow regarded the buildings around them for a few seconds – sturdy wooden constructs, some of the larger and more affluent homes made from stone, in part or entirely. She certainly wouldn't have thought they looked less than permanent. She suspected Tara meant something else

"Wow," she joked nonetheless, "how tough do you guys build your houses?"

"Not like that," Tara smiled, lightly swatting Willow in the stomach, "I mean…it's actually difficult to explain. At home everything is built around the trees, it makes the forest part of the city. What we build is part of the world, the world that's already there, that's always been there. This is all…" she shrugged. "It's like the people tried to just… raze the ground and start again. Getting rid of the real world, and building their own world in its place."

"Guess I'm used to it," observed Willow, "but I suppose I can see how it'd look that way. Your cities are really that much a part of the forest? I've heard of Amazons living in the trees, but I wasn't sure how much of it was real and how much was fanciful storytelling…you know, like the big-breasted dominatrix stories." That got a chuckle from Tara.

"The fanciful storytellers were right that time," she said, "where I come from, Tran Athulua – that's our capital, on Philios – the trees are enormous and ancient. The whole city is built there. Some of the smaller cities have buildings on the ground, storehouses and so on, and if the younger trees can't take the weight on their own we build arches to support the weight, but that's only the villages nearer the coast, or in places where the forest is young. Tran Athulua doesn't touch the ground."

"How big is it?" asked Willow, trying to picture it.

"About five miles, side to side," said Tara, "that's not counting the outer buildings, they're not always part of the city. The further away from the heart of the forest you get, the more space there is between the strong trees, so some of the bridges are lighter, rope bridges and so on, that get taken down and replaced every few seasons."

"Five miles," mused Willow, "that's…nope, I can't even imagine it. It must be amazing to see…"

"Guess I'm used to it," said Tara, smiling as she repeated Willow's earlier words. "No, it is…it's home, and it's a living place, part of the forest. I d-don't want to sound all 'superior Amazon', but, well…it's special."

"I believe you," said Willow sincerely, before joking: "you'll just have to show it to me sometime."

"I-I'd like that," replied Tara with a shy grin, which she almost immediately hid by ducking her head, letting her hair conceal her face.

"So," Willow said, picking the first thought that came to mind to break the uncomfortable pause, "this whole being part of the natural world idea…is it just the city, or is it a general Amazon thing?"

"It's not a rule or anything," said Tara, tucking her hair back and smiling openly at Willow – she seemed to sense the change of subject had been for her benefit – "it's a…an idea. That everything we need is a part of the world already, if we know how to find it. A-and the best way to create something is to work with nature, not against it…Like our cities: instead of taking away the forest to make room for them, we make them a part of the forest, so the city and the forest become one thing. The cities are strong, because they work with nature, not against it…you can't work against nature, not really. The world's stronger and older than any of us, I mean, even older than our gods, and in the end it'll outlive us all. It's better to be in harmony with what is, rather than ignore it and try to create something that's…what's the word… unnatural. That doesn't sound right…"

"No, I get it," said Willow, "it's like our magic, it's the balance principle. If you try to draw power from outside the world is upsets the balance, and ends up destroying itself."

"That's it," Tara agreed.

"That's why the Esu witches chose elemental magic," explained Willow, "fire, ice and lightning, they're all part of the world. They don't upset the balance."

"A-and other magics do?" asked Tara.

"It depends," admitted Willow, "by the sound of it, Amazon magic seems pretty stable…I mean, it sounds like holy magic, and if the idea of natural balance is that important, it's pretty unlikely it could go seriously wrong. There've been some times when holy mages went bad, but that's almost always been in the big, institutional churches…Demonic magic is just about as unbalanced as you can get, the whole idea is to ignore the rules of the world and get power from outside it. There's druid magic," she went on, ticking off the choices on her finger as she went, "but no-one really knows much about them, they stay in their homelands, and that's a long way away…Ember once told me that they think of themselves as servants of nature, though. Then there's prime magic, which just depends on who's using it, so you might as well ask whether people upset the balance or not…what else? Well, necromancy, but that pretty much speaks for itself…"

"You know so much," said Tara softly.

"Not really," replied Willow with a casual wave of her hand, "it's just, you know, stuff out of books. I've never done any magic besides ice…well, not successfully, anyway," she said with a sudden darkening of her expression. "Anyway, that's what I'm supposed to be learning. All the different magics, how they're done, where the power comes from, where it goes… not that I'm going to learn to do it, of course, just understand it. Enough so I won't always be getting too curious for my own good," she added with a grin.

"Oh," said Tara. "So, no summoning skeleton warriors just to see if it works?"

"Heh," Willow chuckled, "I'm pretty sure the Council won't have arranged for me to study with a necromancer. They'd probably worry I'd end up raising a few zombies to carry my bags around. Serve 'em right if I did, making me haul all these books around," she grumbled jokingly. They watched in silence as the caravan trundled past a fairly good statue of a wolf protecting its cubs.

"Why all the different symbols?" Tara asked abruptly.

"Don't know," said Willow. A thought occurred to her, and she leaned back, rummaging in one of her satchels. "Speaking of hauling books around…here it is." She drew out Ember's notebook and started flipping through the pages.

"You've got a book about statues?" Tara asked.

"My sponsor gave it to me," Willow explained, "it's her notebook from her travels. She wrote down just about everything she ever saw… just in no particular order…but I'm sure I saw a drawing of a wolf statue somewhere…" Tara leaned closer and watched over Willow's shoulder as she closed in on the page she was looking for.

"It's the same one," Willow said, finding the drawing, "look, it's got all the little wolf cubs and everything…yep, she was in Kingsport when she wrote this. Um, statues, statues," she repeated absently, drawing a finger down the lines of handwriting, "oh, here it is, 'town markers'… she says they're from back when Kingsport was a bunch of villages around the old shipyards, each village had an animal of its own, a sort of mascot. Then the docks started expanding, and the villages all sort of merged into the city. It says here that the statues were built by Baron Karl Francis – I have no idea when he was around, but I don't think it's recent – as memorials to the old villages." She let the notebook fall closed.

"We've passed four or five statues," Tara observed, "four or five villages, then…it's like the city at home, some of the oldest buildings are out on the edges, with new bridges connecting them to the others. They must have been separate once."

"Cities in the trees," said Willow with a smile. "I suppose there's no such thing as an Amazon who's afraid of heights?"

"Not everyone lives up there," said Tara, "it's mostly just us warriors, and some of the priests, and the clan elders. A lot of the farmers live on their land most of the year. The city can get a bit empty during harvest," she added, "and it's never as crowded as this place."

"Why build it so big, then?" Willow asked.

"Just in case," Tara said. "If we're attacked, there's enough room for everyone to live in the city. It hasn't happened in years, not in my lifetime, b-but it used to every once in a while."

"Who'd be nuts enough to attack Amazons?" Willow wondered with a grin.

"Slavers, pirate kings, even swarms of beasts from the Kehjistan mountains that can make the ocean crossing. There's not that many of us," Tara explained, "even with all the able women trained as warriors, w-we couldn't stop an army from landing and moving in. But we've always kept the cities safe…using the trees to move around and behind enemies. The ancient trees, that the city is built on, are too big to cut down, it'd take weeks. And there are warriors who can call on Karcheus, one of our gods, and use their bows to create chill storms on the ground, so you can't set fire to the forest… It's just a matter of wearing down the invaders until they break…" Tara trailed off, and Willow regretted her curiosity – she obviously wasn't comfortable talking about warfare. Who could blame her?

"You have cold magic?" she asked instead.

"Oh, not me," said Tara, brightening, "I never really followed Karcheus. Our magic is all about which gods we're drawn to. Mine are Hefaetrus and Zerae, fire and storms. B-but yes, some of us can call on ice magic. I g-guess they'd be better at explaining our magic to you, I-I probably won't be able to tell you anything useful…" Until now Tara had continued to lean towards Willow, even after they had closed Ember's notebook, and Willow was struck with a sudden feeling of loss when she straightened in her seat and glanced out at the passing city.

"Hey, no," she protested, "I'm learning all sorts of things already. Besides, even if you don't use cold magic, you still use the same kind of magic as other Amazons, right?"

"How do you mean?" asked Tara, hopeful.

"Well, whichever god you're calling on, you do it the same way, right? I mean, if you were calling on Karcheus, you'd do that focus thing you told me about, the same way as you do when you call on…Zerae?" Willow was glad she hadn't forgotten the name – 'that'd be wonderful,' she thought, 'forgetting the girl's favorite gods half a moment after she tells you about them.'

"Well…yes, I suppose so," Tara allowed.

"I bet it doesn't matter then," said Willow with a smile, "you know, Ember wasn't an ice sorceress, she was one hundred per cent fire. Some of the Order's elders only take students who're attuned to their own specialties, but Ember said it didn't matter. She said she wasn't teaching me how to use her magic, but how to use my magic. So I'm sure I'll be able to learn from you," Willow concluded, pleased to see Tara smiling again. "Whatever you want to teach me, that is," she added, "I'm not asking for any big Amazon secrets, just anything you want to show me. If you want?"

"I…I will," said Tara, biting her bottom lip adorably. "First ch-chance we get. We'll need some space, though," she said thoughtfully. Willow's brows rose in confusion.

"You have to learn how to use a bow," Tara explained with a grin.

Chapter 5

Around midday Tryptin rode back from the head of the caravan, to let Tara know that they were making good speed, and that he and the caravan captain had decided to press on through lunch to reach the Baron's castle by night. Apologizing to Willow for not taking the time to welcome her sooner, he inquired politely about her journey. After answering his questions Willow asked if a rider had being sent ahead to the castle to herald the caravan's arrival, and on discovering that Tryptin would be going ahead himself, wrote a brief letter to be delivered to the Baron's resident mage.

"Kind of him to stop by," Willow observed, after he had gone.

"He's like that, he gets along with everyone," Tara observed. "His family is part of my clan, his father was an ambassador. I guess it runs in the family."

"Is he in charge?" Willow asked. "I kind of thought there'd be more women on an Amazon mission. Or that you'd turn out to be in charge of it, or something," she grinned.

"How old do I look?" Tara asked wryly. "It's a diplomatic mission, I'm just here to represent the warriors. Y-you know, so the Baron and the Duke recognize we're Amazons. Tryptin is the negotiator, him and the merchant emissaries, but, well…" Tara remembered what she had overheard of Solari and Eponin's discussion.

"The nobles have their own ideas about Amazons, and unless they see a sexy woman in leather they won't buy it?" Willow asked.

"E-exactly," Tara managed. 'Sexy?' she thought. Willow had shrugged and started reading one of her books, and Tara unpacked her ceremonial armor and began cleaning and polishing it, occasionally glancing over at Willow thoughtfully.

She was glad to have met Willow, and dispelled her fears that she'd spend the entire journey being seen, somehow, as a strange, intimidating warrior, and consequently avoided. The young sorceress seemed to bring out the most carefree, high-spirited side of Tara – she couldn't count how many times she'd surprised herself the night before, joking and laughing and being so much more open than the shy, quiet girl she had been even among her friends at home. She had even been looking forward to sharing Willow's experience of learning about magic, but since waking up to find Willow stealing a glance at her, she had been surprised at how frequently her thoughts turned to her, and how little they had to do with magic.

Tara wondered if this was what it felt like to have a best friend, someone she could just be with, talk to for hours, take comfort in each other's presence and friendship. She had been envious, in a benign kind of way, of her fellow trainees in that regard. While there had been many kind, caring girls among them, somehow Tara had never felt that spark of intimacy that led to very close friendship. Everyone seemed to have at least one friend they could confide in, could open up to about anything, could chat with about nothing until well into the night, could share life with. Everyone except Tara, who in spite of being accepted into her trainee pride with open arms, had always ended up spending the long evenings in her room at the clan house practicing her moves, and during free days had somehow always ended up alone on the archery ranges, perfecting her aim and studying the flight of arrows. She wouldn't admit it to anyone – had no-one to admit it to – but she sometimes wondered if there was some sort of guidebook to life that she'd missed out on, so that she had to stumble through her days figuring out things as she went. Solari praised her talents, and it was true she had some sort of natural affinity for creating focus, but in her heart she knew the rest was simply a matter of long hours spent alone, practicing for want of something else to do. She knew she would never be a true warrior, not without the competitive gleam that the other trainees got in their eyes when they managed to disarm their sparring partner, or shoot a thrown target out of the air, but there was something comforting in the martial art itself. The Tara who could whirl her spear around herself until the blade became an impenetrable barrier or flashing metal arcs, or who could close her eyes and still see the target far away, and the curving path through the air her arrow needed to follow to reach it, was not the same person as the Tara who always went home alone, knowing there was something missing from her and wondering if she would ever know what it was.

She finished polishing a greave, held it up in the sunlight to make sure it was perfect, then wrapped it in its cloth and pulled its twin out of her pack, stealing another glance at Willow, whose eyes were darting across the pages of her book at an impressive rate. Tara hoped that she had finally found what she was missing, in this beautiful girl's friendship. For what seemed like the hundredth time since she woke, she reviewed snippets of conversation from the night before, reassuring herself that Willow enjoyed her company, found her interesting, was making an effort to become her friend, not just putting up with her out of politeness. Tara knew she was possibly being slightly insecure, but her doubts nagged at her, making her wonder if she was just a novelty. She remembered how she had gone on and on about home and her people, and winced slightly – she was glad Willow was interested, but wondered whether she had seemed slightly ridiculous, trying to gift-wrap her exotic arboreal city and present it to Willow as a token of friendship. She reassured herself with the memory of Willow's bright eyes fixed on her, and of all the jokes they had fired back and forth, and the inconsequential things they had talked about. Perhaps, she allowed, it wasn't just a matter of her being strange and exotic to Willow, perhaps there was genuine friendship. Tara hoped so with all her will. It felt odd to think of herself as exotic, anyway.

As the sun dipped towards the western horizon the caravan left the city of Kingsport behind, and aside from a few scattered shacks here and there among the trees, was in open country. Willow had found a handful of notes about the nobility of Kingsport in Ember's notebook, and was reading it aloud. Tara lay back contentedly in the wagon, staring up at the sky and imagining patterns in the clouds as she heard how the Barons, though rulers of Kingsport, had for centuries held their court in the old castle in the highlands; how in the current more-or-less peaceful times they styled it the 'summer palace', after the tradition of other Westmarch rulers who maintained an estate outside their cities to retire to during the summer, when the cities themselves became a bit ripe in the heat; how the transition from one Baron to the next was accomplished by a bizarre series of ancient rules of succession, which had ensured stability in the realm, if not necessarily the court, for as long as anyone knew. Tara discovered a new pleasure, staring intently at Willow as she read Ember's more cavalier notes on the nobility themselves, trying to make her laugh. Willow strained herself not to let out so much as a snicker, until she got to the part where Ember described the Baron's court of her time as 'a pack of genial senile delinquents preserved in alcohol', which caused both her and Tara to burst into a fit of giggles.

Just as they were recovering a boy rode back from the main wagon. Tara recognized him as Melcan, Tryptin's aide and apprentice, and introduced him to Willow as he drew up his horse alongside their wagon, with one of the Kingsport soldiers a little way behind him.

"Honored, ma'am," he said, with perfect formality as Tryptin must have taught him. "Master Tryptin suggested you might like to see the river before we take the highland road," he continued to Tara, "he chose this man of the Baron's guards to ride with you if you wish, and I'm to stay here and watch over your belongings."

Tara looked at Willow, who nodded eagerly. Leaving Melcan sitting dutifully beside their wagon's driver, they both jumped lightly off the back and took a pair of horses from the dozen following in the wake of the caravan's wagons.

"Have you ever ridden before?" Willow asked.

"A little," Tara said, "not very much. We don't use horses very much at home."

"You're probably better than me anyway," said Willow, "me and horses…" She rolled her eyes, and turned to her horse. Tara noticed her holding the reins tightly and looking unusually tense as they followed the guard off the road and towards the gentle slope that went on for half a mile or so to the east. She nudged her horse a little closer to Willow's, and gave her a warm smile that seemed to boost her confidence.

The guard waited for them at the top of the rise, and pointed out into the valley beyond as they reached him.

"Merchant Bay," he said as they stared out at the panorama before them. A mile away the river, the Kingsway, that ran from Duncraig to Kingsport, widened into a small bay before continuing its journey to the sea. The entire western side of the bay was a mass of warehouses and gantries, extending even out into the bay itself, so that glimpses of glittering water could be seen between the low roofs and wooden thoroughfares. Beyond them was a fleet of ships, dozens of merchant barges and flat-bottomed riverboats, some riding at anchor, others maneuvering through the throng to reach open water, or to take their place at the docks.

"Ember didn't write anything about this," murmured Willow. Her eyes widened, and she pointed out to Tara where a series of counterweighted cranes shuddered and strained, lifting the entire cargo deck of a barge clear of its vessel. Teams of men, small as ants in the distance, pulled the whole construct, cranes and all, back along shining steel rails, making way for another construct to be wheeled into place, lowering a new deck full of different cargo into the barge.

"H-how do they do that?" asked Tara. The guard shrugged.

"Can't say, ma'am," he said simply, "'tis beyond me, that's for sure. They say the Baron hired mages from Duncraig and foreign lands to help build it, though I don't believe there's any there now. I was just a boy when it was built. Our mam says the old river docks got so crowded you couldn't land a cargo of eggs before they'd hatched and died of old age."

"There's got to be magic in it," Willow said to herself, "they must have melded the beams, treated the wood to make it stronger…my gods, look at all the ships!" Tara followed her gaze along the river as it wound between the hills – for as far as she could see there were ships dotted along the river, riding the current or straining their sails against it.

"Aye, the city sees a lot of goods coming and going," the guard observed, "it's from Duncraig, you see. Ships come from all the lands of the world, just about, and they all go along here. They say this river's what keeps Kingsport alive, and, well, I ain't got a head for matters of trade, but I think they may be right." He then fell silent, as Willow and Tara stared out at the great river port.

"We'd best be getting back," he said after a few moments, "it wouldn't do to let the caravan get too far ahead of us."

They returned to Melcan still maintaining his alert vigil over their wagon. He had the driver stop the wagon for a moment so Willow and Tara could get on board easily, then took to his horse and rode back up to the head of the caravan, while the guard disappeared rearwards to return their horses to their place at the caravan's tail end. Willow checked Ember's notebook and confirmed that the Merchant Bay river docks had indeed been built sometime after her sponsor had traveled the region – all she had had to say about the city's river traffic was that its docks were 'small and badly overcrowded', which clearly referred to the predecessors of the complex they had seen.

"M-maybe you should start your own notebook?" Tara suggested. Willow leapt gleefully at the idea, found a blank book from one of her satchels, and spent a few minutes recording her impressions of the giant docks.

"Pity I can't draw," she grumbled to herself as she was finishing.

"I c-could," Tara offered, "i-if you'd like, that is, I could try…" Willow eagerly handed over the book, and watched over Tara's shoulder as she sketched out a remarkably lifelike drawing of the river docks as they had seen them from the top of the rise.

"That's amazing," Willow breathed, as the picture took shape under Tara's pencil. Tara looked up for a moment, blushing and grinning, then returned her attention to her work. Willow sat back and watched her, smiling without realizing it as she noticed the tip of Tara's tongue poking between her lips now and then as she concentrated, and the way her eyes seemed to sparkle in the afternoon light as she re-read Willow's text, adding notes to her sketch to complement it.

With gray clouds on the horizon and the afternoon turning into dusk they let down the wagon's canvas roof and fastened it over its wooden frame, lighting a lamp to see by inside as they took turns recording their experiences in Kingsport in the notebook. Willow listened rapt as Tara told her about her meeting with Marela while she wrote, and was fascinated by the amulet as she held it for Tara to sketch, turning it this way and that in the golden light of the lamp. It was just when both of them were staring to wonder about dinner that they heard voices outside, and poked their heads out the front of the wagon to see the Baron's castle looming up ahead of them.

It was fully night by the time the caravan rolled over the moat bridge towards the castle gates. The castle, a vast, ominous stone fortress, sat at the center of a rambling collection of wooden shacks and storehouses built beyond its walls – a testament to the relative peace that the realm was enjoying, even as the thick walls and high battlements of the castle itself hinted of past times of warfare. The battlements were now alive with torchlight, as were the towers visible beyond them – Willow pointed out one tower with a dome atop it, split down the center to reveal the lens of a great telescope, which she guessed belonged to the resident mage. The roadway leading up to the bridge was also lit, and a contingent of soldiers rode out as the caravan approached, relieving those who had escorted it from the city. Tryptin was with them, and rode back to Tara after a moment conferring with the merchant emissaries.

"The Baron has begun his dinner early," he explained, "it would be better to settle into quarters quietly tonight, and be presented to court tomorrow when we won't be interrupting. Oh, Miss Willow, a reply came from the mage, he asks that you wait for him in the courtyard at midday in two days' time, he sends his apologies but apparently the constellations have his attention for tonight, and he has an appointment tomorrow."

Willow thanked him, privately dreading another disinterested tutor, but excited nonetheless to see the castle, or the 'summer palace', as the Baron did indeed apparently call it. She was disappointed, however, to find herself separated from the Amazon mission and given private quarters – a mark of respect, of course, but she would have preferred to have Tara's company in place of a room of her own, and she was sorry to have to bid a temporary goodbye to her companion. She asked after the Baron's mage when a notary arrived at her room to welcome her, but it seemed she would have to be content to stay put until the next evening, when she would meet the Baron at dinner and be granted the freedom of the castle, allowing her to wander around and find where the Amazons had ended up. A servant arrived not long afterwards with dinner, and she ate with one hand holding open one of the books she had been given in Kingsport. She consoled herself that she would be seeing Tara again soon enough, and let herself be absorbed by the intricacies of alchemical research as the night grew late.

Tara was no more pleased than Willow at being separated, but managed to distract herself with the company of the various merchants and negotiators from the mission as they ate dinner in the common room connecting their various bedrooms. After dinner Tryptin took her aside and went over the diplomatic protocols she needed to know to meet with the Baron without causing offence, which were few enough – the court of Kingsport was evidently a fairly easy-going place. Tryptin mentioned that, traditionally, women were not expected to take part in discussions with men over dinner unless invited, but then suggested that it might be best if Tara behave as she would at home, speaking her mind if she felt the need to. He assured her that it would impress the various noblemen and remind them that they were dealing with the Amazon nation, rather than merely a group of merchants and businessmen, though Tara got the impression that he quietly relished the opportunity to remind the nobles that not all women spoke only when spoken to.

Tara slept easily in the comfortable bed that had been provided, and woke in time to see the sun come over the battlements beyond her window. She wasn't surprised, though, to find that she already missed having Willow to talk to, and as the morning wore on – a succession of meetings with minor nobles, whom she formally greeted on behalf of the Amazon warriors and then left to the emissaries and Tryptin's negotiators – she was looking forward to the evening's dinner, where she hoped to see her new friend again.

With nothing else to occupy her in the afternoon, she asked one of the passing servants to bring back one of the baths that had been brought to the common room early in the morning, and bathed again, spending a long time washing her hair and carefully drying it. Studying herself intently in the polished mirror in her room, she tied her hair up in a high ponytail, the most typical style for a warrior, and bound it there with a slim bronze clasp. She retrieved her ceremonial armor, which still gleamed from yesterday's cleaning, and laid it out on the bed, making sure everything looked perfect. Of course she wasn't going into battle, so she wouldn't wear a full breastplate, which left her the choice of which tunic to wear with the outfit. She discarded the red – too bright – and carefully donned the other of the two finely-woven tops she had brought, a deep gray that seemed to gleam ever so slightly in the light. She carefully fastened her shoulder harness over it, wiggling her torso and adjusting the straps so that they sat perfect around her shoulders and chest, with her family's crest glinting on the bronze buckle at the corner of the leather padding over her right shoulder. She lifted the shining bronze plate that would go on her left shoulder, then decided to leave it until after she had finished with the rest of the outfit.

With a self-conscious glance out the window – though it was unlikely anyone would be able to see in, unless they were balancing on top of the battlements and were at least fifteen feet tall – she took off the soft trousers she had been wearing and swapped her underwear for the leather equivalent that went with the armor. She caught herself blushing in the mirror, which was a habit she had never quite been able to shake whenever she wore traditional armor – she always wished that there was a skirt, at least, for all that she recognized the unparalleled freedom of movement the arrangement offered. She pulled on the half-skirt, composed of studded leather straps in front and behind, leaving her thighs bare at the sides, and fixed it with a sturdy belt, quickly detaching the various pouches that would help carry her supplies if she were in the field. Doing her best to ignore the nagging feeling that she was half-naked, she pulled on her best boots, pulling tight the straps just above the knees to hold them up.

Next came her bronze greaves, which she gave a quick final polish before strapping them to her shins. She strapped a slim bracer on her right wrist, then pulled a long leather glove over her left arm, strapping it high above the elbow and covering it with a firm leather gauntlet, which in turn had a bronze bracer strapped over it. She finally picked up the bronze shoulder plate and fixed it in place over her left shoulder, making sure it was properly attached to her harness and its weight was sitting comfortably. Lastly she took a slim, well-padded bundle from her bags and unwrapped the circlet that, along with the bronze crest adorning her right shoulder, were all that she really had to remember her parents. She checked the soft leather lining, which was still as good as new, and gently settled the circlet around her brows, closing her eyes as she fixed the clasp at its rear. She picked up her bow and, with a slight effort, strung it with an old, sturdy string that would do for show, though she would have chosen one of the finer ones if she'd intended to actually fire an arrow. She slotted the bow into its place on her back, held by her harness, and at last turned towards the mirror.

A reasonably perfect image of an Amazon warrior stared back at her. With a satisfied nod, trying not to look at her legs too much, Tara turned around, glancing over her shoulder to make sure she looked good from all angles. The straps of her harness had made the tunic a good deal more form-fitting than it had been, particularly around her chest – she giggled at the memory of Willow's summary of the common, lurid image of Amazons as 'big-breasted warrioresses', then composed herself. Content with her preparations she took her spear, silently thanking Solari for allowing her to use it, and left her room to meet the Baron.

Heads turned as the court's page announced the Amazon party, starting with 'Amazon warrioress Tara' and then continuing through the names of Tryptin's diplomats and the merchant emissaries. Tara held her head up high and kept her posture straight as the spear in her hand as she strode towards the Baron's table. Tryptin had told her that the Baron's aides would see to it that he, in turn, knew the proper protocol for receiving an Amazon as a guest, and he had evidently been paying attention, for when Tara bowed stiffly and held out Silverstrike, shaft first with the blade behind her, he stood, lay his open palm on it and bowed slightly in return before sinking back into his seat.

Tryptin, as leader of the mission, also merited the Baron getting to his feet, while the other Amazons each received a nod of acknowledgement as the were introduced one by one and bowed. The party was then led to their seats, not very far from the Baron and his closest noblemen on the long table, and Tara was about to take her seat when she heard the page announce the arrival of 'Sorceress Willow of the Zann Esu'.

She turned to look towards the doors, and in that moment realized that, while she would treasure Willow's friendship for as long as she lived, she also had feelings for the young sorceress that were entirely more passionate.

Chapter 6

Tara wondered if Willow was aware of how…well, sexy, she looked. 'Oh come on,' she chided herself, 'how could she not know?'

If Tara's eyes were drawn to Willow's body first, she couldn't really blame herself, and judging by the subtle gasps around her, she wasn't the only one. Willow's shoulders, arms and chest were wrapped in a shimmering green fabric, thin overlapping layers of gauzy cloth, like the bindings of an Aranoch mummy but far more elegant and beautiful. The remarkable fabric itself, matching her eyes, would have turned heads alone, but it was the way that it stopped just low enough to decently cover her chest – in fact, Tara noticed as her heart hammered, the high cut of the material revealed just a hint of the swells of her breasts beneath it. Her body was bare down to the belt circling her hips, an expanse of perfectly smooth skin that made Tara gulp as her eyes followed the delicate curve of her waist and hips. From her belt, which was buckled at the center with an eye-catching white crystal set in silver, more of the diaphanous emerald fabric formed a tight skirt, solidly interwoven at the center then stretching out to either side, becoming slightly transparent as it hugged her hips and thighs the way Tara was suddenly imagining her hands doing. Her eyes darted over Willow for a moment, taking in the slim boots topped with silver bands, and the silver clasps at each wrist holding the ends of her sleeves tight, before settling on her face, framed by a silver diadem and her fiery, silky hair.

The minor nobility standing in groups around the dining hall practically fell over themselves to welcome her, bowing deeply and introducing themselves one by one in their most genteel manner. Willow smiled warmly at each one, inclining her head at their bows like a princess, allowing the daring souls among them to take her hand briefly in greeting. Tara wondered if it was her imagination, but she thought she saw Willow's eyes moving around the crowded hall in between introductions, searching for a familiar face. She realized she was staring. A moment later she realized she was still staring, and should probably do something about it. She resolved to return her attention to her companions at the table, in just a moment…

As Willow cleared the impromptu welcoming committee, Tara finally became aware of something else, a sudden murmur of surprise among the noblemen and Amazons around her. She glanced up the table to see the Baron rising to his feet, gesturing quickly for his nobles to follow suit. In the space of a few seconds the whole table was standing, falling in behind the Baron as he approached the young sorceress. She drew up short as she saw him, and he stopped a few paces from her.

"Our court is honored by your presence," the Baron said in a voice that carried to all who were listening. He held out a hand to her.

"The honor is mine," Tara barely heard her say, as she bowed and took his hand briefly. From where Tara stood, she thought the Baron looked slightly surprised – she recalled it was protocol to kiss the lord's hand, but Willow didn't appear to realize – but he recovered, and evidently took no offence, for he smiled widely as he swept an arm out to indicate the fellow diners crowded around him.

"The court, ma'am," he said graciously, as his wife stepped forward, shooting him an annoyed glance before smiling radiantly at Willow. The rest jostled their way into a line, which Willow slowly made her way along, with the Baron at her side making the introductions. Tara's stomach flipped itself over a few times as the pair worked their way down the line, getting nearer. She glanced quickly up and down the line, realizing that she had ended up as the first of the Amazons the Baron would reach – Tryptin's doing, certainly, subtly reinforcing her status for the other guests to see. He caught Tara's eye and gave her a reassuring wink.

"Our other guests this evening," the Baron intoned, snapping Tara's attention back to him and Willow, "a party of Amazons, no less, here to maintain the good relations between their nation and our city…oh, you would have traveled with them, of course. Well, perhaps you know some of them already." He glanced at Tara, earning another stern look from his wife as his eyes paused a little obviously on her chest before moving on – not that Tara was paying attention.

"This fearsome beauty," the Baron went on, "is Tara."

"Yes, we've met," said Willow with a warmer smile than those she'd made for the nobility. She took a step forward. 'Say something!' Tara's mind screamed at her, as she vaguely heard Willow's greeting.

"H-h-h-he…h-hello," she managed after an awkward pause, wondering which god had decided it would be fun to render her incapable of movement. Willow's smile faltered slightly, and she began to look confused as Tara desperately tried to make her voice work again. But then the Baron was introducing Tryptin, and Willow was drawn away, leaving Tara cursing her shyness and hoping for another chance to speak to her. When the Baron's table resumed their seats Willow was on the same side, but with half a dozen noblemen between them, so that it was difficult for Tara to get a glimpse of her.

Willow did her best to present an affable exterior to her neighbor at the table, but inwardly she was not happy. Her brief meeting with Tara kept replaying itself in her mind, preventing her from maintaining a conversation with the noblemen, a minor landowner who affected a great interest in magic, but clearly didn't know what he was talking about. She hadn't expected to be able to spend very much time with Tara during the meal – being an official occasion, the seating of the guests had been arranged, and she couldn't just have sat where she liked – but she had looked forward to snatching a brief moment here and there in Tara's presence, feeling the warmth of her smile that she had sorely missed since the previous evening. She hadn't been expecting Tara to look almost dismayed to see her – her friend's normally expressive face had frozen the moment Willow had reached her in the line, and she had barely answered when Willow had said hello. Far from being pleased, Tara had looked as if she had seen a ghost.

Willow found her thoughts turning against her, giving free rein to all her doubts. Had she been too obvious? She suddenly regretted her choice of clothing – it was Zann Esu, of course, but Tara wouldn't necessarily know that. What if she thought Willow had deliberately chosen it to, well, to try to arouse her? Willow had to admit that wasn't far from the truth – she had barely considered wearing her ceremonial robes, or the elaborate meditation dress that would probably have been exactly what the nobles would expect a sorceress to wear, she had merely imagined herself appearing to Tara in her emerald outfit, sparking some hint of desire in Tara, experiencing for real the warm tingling she felt when she imagined Tara's eyes on her, wanting her…Willow cursed herself for getting lost in her fantasies, not thinking things through – she hadn't even stopped to consider the possibility that Tara wasn't interested in her that way. That night over dinner, when she had mentioned that most Amazons married men – Willow remembered how Tara had stuttered out her answer, when she asked whether that was always the case. She had thought, hoped, it might have been nervousness, but…'Oh gods,' Willow's thoughts moaned, 'what if she- if it wasn't nerves, what if she's not comfortable with even the idea? Just because her people in general are doesn't mean she is, and now I've gone and flashed my half-naked body in front of her, and she knows, and she doesn't even want to talk to me…' Willow's fists clenched as she fought the straining muscles in her face that wanted her to close her eyes and cry. The noblemen at her side was still chattering aimlessly to her; the other chair, reserved for the Baron's mage, was empty – 'Probably doesn't want to waste his time with me,' Willow thought, knowing she was languishing in her hurt feelings and not caring. Willow turned her attention to the boring man, and was probably more interested in his inaccurate observations about magic than he deserved, just in gratitude for the distraction he offered.

Tara was unusually distant through dinner, offering only curt responses to her neighbors' attempts to start a conversation as her thoughts turned inward. While reaching to the platters in the middle of the table she managed to get fleeting glimpses of Willow, though she never caught her eye. Tara could tell she was upset – there was something about the set of her jaw, and the slight manufactured look to her smile as she chatted with the man beside her, that Tara felt she could read like a book. Tara speared a piece of potato with her fork, unnecessarily viciously, and blamed herself entirely. Willow had probably been looking forward to seeing her, assuming she had been cooped up all day with nothing to do, and the best Tara could offer her was a stuttered 'hello', not even taking her hand, as a friend should – gods, the few people at home she had genuinely disliked, she had offered more courtesy to when she happened to meet them. Tara imagined how she must have seemed to Willow: armored and armed, the image of a warrior, betraying no hint of feeling. She wondered, caught between hope and a dark moodiness, whether she might get a chance to talk to Willow soon, or whether the sorceress would take the hint Tara had unwittingly given, chalk her up as an emotionless warrior, and keep out of her way.

Dinner seemed to pass quickly, and most of the guests had finished their plates by the time the Baron laid down his fork and motioned for them to rise, if they wished. Tara saw Willow get up, and pushed away her own plate, hoping to dodge through the crowd and catch her before she left. But Willow headed directly away from her, not towards the doors, leaving Tara confused – was she leaving, or avoiding her, or what? – and a moment later she found her view blocked by one of the Baron's attendants.

"Ma'am," he said with a bow, "the dancing will commence shortly. Normally women would wait for their partners to choose them, but in your case," he looked uncomfortable, "the Baron would not ask you to submit to such a requirement."

"What?" asked Tara vaguely, trying to look over the man's shoulder to see Willow, among the other diners who had all got to their feet in anticipation of the dance. The sorceress seated herself on one of the long benches at the side of the hall, not far from where the ladies, in a selection of elaborate dresses, were gathering.

"Your diplomat suggested," the attendant continued, "and the Baron has agreed, that you might select your partner? Several of our distinguished nobles have expressed interest, so if you would care to choose your dance partner…?" He gestured to some of the nobles, who were hanging back from the general movement across the hall, where men were bowing and offering their hands to the ladies, the couples taking their place for the dance.

"Yes," said Tara brightly, "present my thanks for the Baron's courtesy, and I will choose a partner." She handed her spear and bow to Melcan, hovering at her side for that purpose, and set off across the hall, heading for Willow.

About half-way the boldness of her sudden idea caught up with her, and she faltered. What if Willow had been too offended by her lack of courtesy earlier? After failing to even greet her properly, as a friend should, did she dare to just walk up to her and ask her to dance? She slowed, noticing as she neared Willow that one or two of the nobles were likewise closing in on her. One, in fact, was turning from her, a disappointed look on his face, and as Tara watched another bowed, spoke to her, and nodded graciously as she gave a brief smile and shook her head. Clearly Willow didn't even want to dance, Tara decided, so she should just turn around and walk away. While she had been debating with herself, though, her feet had been carrying her forwards, and by the time she had resolved not to embarrass herself and upset Willow further, it was too late, and Willow had already noticed her approach.

"Tara?" she said, her expression unreadable – not displeased, not angry, but with too much going on behind her eyes for Tara to guess at her thoughts. She drew to a halt in front of the sitting sorceress, and for want of a better idea, bowed and held out a hand, just as the nobles were doing.

"W-would you c-care to-to…d-dance?" she said, gulping down the nerves that were threatening to make her tongue trip over itself. There was a moment when Willow's expression changed, when she was clearly moving from her unreadable mood to something else, but in that instant Tara couldn't tell what, and she felt pulled in all directions by her emotions, hoping for joy, fearing rejection, worrying about what she might be jeopardizing. Then a grin appeared, spread into a wide, brilliant smile, Willow's eyes sparkled, and she took Tara's hand. Tara felt as though everything was right in the world as she walked into the middle of the hall where the couples were gathering, Willow's arm looped around her elbow and her fingers sneaking between Tara's. A murmur went around the hall as the assembled nobles saw the new couple taking the floor, and Tara glanced at Tryptin, wondering belatedly – though not really caring very much – if she was scandalizing the court. She was reassured to see him suppressing a grin at the astonished looks on the faces of the nobles near him.

The style of the moment in the Baron's court seemed to be a fairly relaxed sort of dance – Willow had read an account from Ember's notebook of the elaborate, ritual-like dances that had been held in her time, but evidently they had fallen out of favor. With a surreptitious glance at the couples around her, Tara took Willow's left hand in her right, slipped her other hand around Willow's waist, and smiled as Willow's other hand negotiated her shoulder armor for a moment before settling just below it. The court musicians struck up a gentle, cheerful melody, and the dance began.

"I was a bit worried when I saw you," Willow murmured, resting her head against Tara's unarmored shoulder, "you looked so…serious, before."

"I-I was speechless," Tara said, grinning as Willow leaned into her embrace.

"Why?" she asked. "Because of me?"

"You look s-so…" Tara tried to find the right word, and could only think of: "beautiful."

"I- thank you," Willow said quietly, straightening a little so she could meet Tara's gaze. "I'm sorry I got upset, it's just…well, you know, a boring day doing nothing but reading and not being able to even talk to you. I guess I got a little nervous too." Her smile turned impish. "But seeing as I ended up dancing with the loveliest warrior in the castle, it was worth it."

"W-well, it's only fair," said Tara, her head spinning from the compliment, "seeing as I'm dancing with the loveliest lady." Willow's smile was worth crossing the Great Ocean for.

"Heh," she chuckled quietly, "I don't think a lady would wear an outfit like this."

"I-I bet they w-wish they could," said Tara, surprising herself both with her boldness, and that her shyness didn't keep her from meeting Willow's look and maintaining her most appealing smile. Willow took advantage of a turn in the dance to slip a little further into Tara's embrace.

"So you like it?" Willow asked.

"Oh yes," Tara whispered. "I-is it from Kehjistan?"

"Mmm-hmm," Willow quietly replied, "Zann Esu battlegear." Tara glanced down, and Willow straightened again, seeing her curious expression.

"This is battlegear?" Tara asked, slightly incredulous. Willow grinned.

"I'm a sorceress, remember?" she teased. "We don't get up close and personal with monsters much. And if we do, there're spells to protect us. Besides, this," she said gently drawing Tara's right hand down to her stomach, "is where the magic comes from, the center of the body. It helps to keep it…unimpeded."

Tara nodded wordlessly. She could feel her fingers trembling as Willow held her hand against her skin – and was it her imagination, or did Willow keep her hand there a little longer than necessary, and press it gently against herself before letting go? Rather than take Tara's hand again, Willow slipped both arms around her waist, as the music changed to something a little slower, more intimate, and the couples around them drew closer. Tara was suddenly even more aware of how close Willow was to her, and that her hands were now wrapped around her bare waist, against her back, holding her in a way that, dance or no dance, was definitely intimate. Until this evening she would have danced with Willow like this, as a friend, and held her like this with nothing more than platonic affection…but now she knew, for sure, that the heat she was feeling was more than the warmth of friendship, it was desire. And, despite the doubts that were nagging at her, she was starting to think that Willow felt it too.

Willow again rested her head on Tara's shoulder, this time tightening her embrace. Tara barely suppressed a visible shudder as she first felt Willow's breasts brush hers through the layers of fabric between them, then press against her as Willow snuggled into her arms. The music had slowed to a soft, gentle pace, as those dancers who participated for show or fun drifted off to converse with other guests, and the remaining couples held each other close, with only the occasional comment murmured into a partner's ear as they moved. Tara was aware, in a distant sort of way, that a number of the spectators were staring at her and Willow, surprised and perhaps amused at the novelty of seeing two women dance together, but she didn't care. All she cared about was in her arms, moving in time with her, her hands radiating warmth through the material of Tara's tunic.

'Perhaps,' Tara thought, 'perhaps she feels it too…if the skin on her back tingles beneath my hands…if she can't help but feel every slight movement of my body…if she feels as blessed holding me as I do holding her…' For Tara, surprised a day ago to have found friendship, it was almost too much to hope for…but she dared hope.

She leaned her head gently down to where Willow's head rested on her shoulder, brushing her cheek against Willow's hair, and felt such contentment as she had never felt before. At last, she knew she was where she was meant to be, doing what she was meant to do, and all the worries in the world had no power as long as she and Willow danced. She closed her eyes, and the warmth she felt seemed to wrap around her, holding her, cradling her in its arms, lifting her…

There were audible gasps from the crowd of spectators, and the musicians faltered, but in Tara's mind there was music, and she didn't even open her eyes when she realized her feet no longer touched the ground.

"Is it magic?" she whispered to Willow, luxuriating in the absence of anything but the woman in her arms.

"It's not sorcery," Willow whispered back, "but it is magic."

It was past midnight when the great hall finally emptied. Willow and Tara found themselves in the south wing of the castle, where the Amazons were quartered, most of whom were still awake and talking in the common room. In the few steps leading up to the door Tara wondered whether it would be too forward to invite Willow in, but Willow's hand on her arm stilled her.

"I should get some sleep," Willow said quietly, reluctantly even.

"Y-you're tired," Tara agreed, noticing her companion suppress a yawn, not the first on their walk back from the hall.

"Yeah, I didn't sleep so well," Willow admitted, "you know, unfamiliar bed and all. But I'll see you tomorrow?" She hesitated, and Tara had a sudden urge to insist she stay, sleep at her side, wake in her arms. But on its heels came an understanding: she wasn't skirting the edge of failure with Willow, and she didn't need to rush to make everything perfect like a fairy tale. She nodded, and quickly, while the feeling of contentment lasted, enveloped Willow in a hug that was pure friendship.

"Thank you," she whispered in Willow's ear, not needing to explain why.

"I should go," Willow repeated, with a little smile. "But," she added, her words coming out in a rush, "just so you know I don't want to-"

She leaned forward, tilting her face up just a fraction so that the last words were breathed onto Tara's lips. The kiss that followed was brief, an instant just long enough for both pairs of lips to part a fraction, then Willow was stepping back with a wide, satisfied smile, and hurrying away down the corridor. Tara just stood there, watching her go with bemused amazement, and it was a good few seconds before she could think of anything but how soft Willow's lips had been.

Chapter 7

Willow awoke with a start, kicking her legs free of the sheets before she remembered where she was, and the urge to run, to find safety, vanished. She shook her head ruefully and ran a hand through her hair, which had somehow managed to become tangled since she had gone to sleep. 'It can't have been that long,' she grumbled to herself, noting both her lingering tiredness, and the early morning sun just creeping over the battlements beyond her window. 'How does hair do this?' She got out of bed, discarded her flimsy nightgown in favor of a thick, warm robe, and sat in front of the mirror, brushing her hair back to a decent state. And remembering her dream.

It had begun innocently enough, with her wanderings carrying her through the gardens of the Church, with birdsong and the crunching of the gravel beneath her bare feet the only sounds. The sun was bright in the sky, casting golden light across the flowers…then the flowers were all around her, covering the ancient stonework of the cloister, carpeting the ground in a soft bed of color. And the golden sunlight became golden hair, which Willow ran her hands through and buried her face in, laughing with joy as she felt Tara's arms around her. The flowers were like silk beneath them as they lay together, side by side, Willow marveling at the flawless skin beneath her fingers, as she ran her hand down Tara's side, across her waist, down her thigh…Tara pressed up against her, her leg resting over Willow's hip, her toes trailing along the backs of Willow's legs, and Willow reached back and ran her hand all the way along Tara's leg, right down to her toes, then back up again. Tara stretched her arm out above her head, and Willow trailed her touch all the way up her body, over her shoulder, up along her arms to her fingertips. She could feel Tara shivering in delight, could see the anticipation in her sapphire blue eyes…

Then she had rolled over, and the warmth of Tara's body behind her was receding. The color of the flowers was fading, and then the irregular surface wasn't flowers anymore, but stone, debris from the shattered columns and broken walls of the building around her. She felt a gaze on her back, but she didn't want to roll back over, because she knew the eyes weren't Tara's…

"Well damn," she said to herself, brushing viciously, "if I'm going to have nightmares, at least the good part could last longer." She gave a lop-sided grin to the image of herself in the mirror, but couldn't quite shake off the lingering unease the dream had left her with. Sure, she had had nightmares since- when she had been recalled to the Church, but they had faded with time, naturally, leaving Willow with nothing more than an annoying tendency to sleep lightly, which she was inclined to blame as much on traveling as on her mind's night-time meanderings. But they had been just bad dreams, easily swept away by the morning light, and a refreshing splash of water over her face when she washed. This time she still had a nagging feeling that she should be looking over her shoulder.

"Heigh-ho," she said to herself, making light of her unease as she checked her robe was decently tied around her and pulled the bell-cord for a servant. She changed into her traveling clothes as the servant departed towards the kitchens to bring her early breakfast and a bath, packing away her green outfit. That drew her thoughts to the previous night, and she resolved to visit the Amazons' quarters and see if she could spend the morning with Tara, before she would have to meet the mage and see what he could teach her.

As it happened, she met Tara half-way across the garden-courtyard between the south wing of the castle, where the Amazons were, and the keep, where Willow's room was. Willow waved unnecessarily as they neared each other, and felt her spirits soar as she noticed the smile that spread across Tara's face as she saw her.

"Hi," she said.

"Hi," Tara answered. "I-I was just coming to see you."

"Me too!" Willow grinned. "Coming to see you, I mean. 'Cause I saw me already, in the mirror when I woke up, morning hair and all…" She shrugged, feeling suddenly and uncharacteristically shy. Tara, on the other hand, seemed bolder than usual, as she stepped closer and ran her fingers through Willow's hair.

"I like you hair," she said softly. "I-it feels wonderful."

"It's just lulling you into a false sense of security," Willow joked. Tara giggled, which made Willow laugh too. A group of servants hurried through the garden, and Tara took Willow's arm and led her off the path. Willow sat beside Tara on one of the low stone walls surrounding the raised flowerbeds, pleased that Tara's hand dropped down her arm to her hand, but didn't let go.

"I can't stay too long," Tara sad reluctantly, "I'm supposed to go with the Baron and some of his noblemen on a hunt." She gestured at the end of the bow sticking up over her shoulder.

"Oh," Willow said sadly, "I wish I could come with you."

"On horseback."

"Well…" Willow hesitated. "I could ride with you, that wouldn't be so bad. Then if I got dizzy or anything I could hold on to you."

"You did okay when we rode out to see the river," Tara said.

"Oh, no," Willow said with mock-seriousness, "I bet I'd have to hold on to you all the time. Can't take chances with horses." Tara grinned.

"Are you flirting with me?" she asked with a sly smile.

"Maybe," Willow replied, drawing the word out longer than it needed to be, eliciting another laugh from Tara. 'Hey, look at me,' she thought, 'I'm flirting! Who'd ha' thought it?' "Why, is there some penalty for flirting with an Amazon?"

"Yep," said Tara triumphantly, "now you have to go with me to the Baron's feast in two days. I-if you want to," she added, her teasing smile replaced by a hopeful look.

"I'd love to!" Willow exclaimed, squeezing Tara's hand. "Thank you, I'd love to," she repeated.

"Great," Tara said, smiling shyly at being the cause of Willow's joy. "S-so, do you know what you'll be studying today? It is today, isn't it? The Baron's mage?"

"Midday," confirmed Willow, "yep. I don't know yet, I haven't even seen him so far. Ember wrote a few notes about him on the scroll the Order gave me, but I don't think she ever met him. Just that he's part of the western Vizjerei clan. They're pretty eclectic, according to her notebook, she met a few of them years ago."

"Eclectic?" Tara asked.

"The western clan are just about the only group of mages to really settle out here in Westmarch," Willow explained, "so they've sort of got the whole place to themselves. Not like Kehjistan, there's practically the whole set of clans and orders within a hundred miles. Vizjerei, the new Horadrim, the reformed Zakarum scholars, the Ennead and the Ammuit, the Zann Esu, plus there's necromancers lurking down south somewhere…the whole continent is full of what we call nodes, places where magic is amplified. Everyone sticks to their own discipline and mostly pretends the other clans don't exist…but out here it's just the western clan, so they study whatever they like. Some elemental effects, some prime magic, alchemy, holy magic, Ember says there's even some druidic influences around. There's no-one to really look over their shoulder, so they research whatever looks promising."

"Sounds interesting," Tara observed, wide-eyed.

"I'll tell you all about it," Willow promised. She noticed movement beyond the archway leading from the garden to the main courtyard. "I think your hunting adventure is getting ready," she said, not without a touch of sadness. Tara glanced behind herself, seeing the Baron's horse being readied, and several noblemen with bows meandering around.

"I have to go," she admitted.

"Well, have fun," Willow said, trying a smile and finding that it came easily when she did it for Tara. Tara squeezed her hand, then let go as she stood up. Willow's hand brushed in the flowers by her side, as she looked up at Tara, who was radiant with the morning sun behind her. "Be careful," she added suddenly, not sure why.

"I will," Tara said seriously, gazing into Willow's eyes. "Is e-everything okay?"

"I'm fine," Willow said, waving a hand dismissively, "I just woke up feeling a bit off-center. It's nothing." She stood, and impulsively leaned forward and kissed Tara on the cheek – nothing extravagant, just a reminder of how a few minutes with her had brightened Willow's whole day. Tara touched her cheek, smiling beautifully.

"I-I'll see you soon," she said, still smiling. Willow nodded and sat back down on the flowerbed wall. Tara took a step backwards, started to turn away, then turned back to Willow and took two quick steps, bringing her directly in front of Willow. Before Willow could think Tara's hands were cupping her cheeks, turning her face gently to meet Tara's as she leaned down. Their lips touched, pressed together, and Willow's eyes fluttered closed as she felt Tara's mouth open and her tongue graze across her lips. Willow couldn't think, couldn't react, couldn't summon the presence of mind to bring her hands up from where they were resting at her sides…in fact, couldn't do anything but open her mouth, feeling as if her whole body had turned to jelly and Tara's hands gently, firmly holding her head were the only thing stopping her from sliding off her perch on the wall and melting into a puddle on the ground. Tara tilted her head sideways, deepening the kiss, her tongue brushing over the tips of Willow's teeth, gingerly exploring her mouth, darting in to touch her tongue. Willow completely forgot where she was and moaned into Tara's mouth, making no attempt to silence herself. With a final swirl Tara's tongue departed, and her lips closed for a moment on Willow's bottom lip, sucking gently, pulling ever so slightly as Tara pulled back, then letting go. Tara stood up straight, and Willow stayed absolutely motionless for a moment before her eyes opened and she took a deep, shuddering breath.

"I'll be back soon," Tara said, with a smile that was quite restrained under the circumstances.

"Yeah…" Willow managed.

"I'll see you then."

"Yeah…"

"As soon as you're finished with the mage," Tara added.

"Yeah…" Willow said again. She didn't move except to watch Tara as she turned and headed towards the main courtyard. 'Oh gods,' she was thinking, 'oh gods…' With considerable effort she composed herself, and managed to make her legs work before she fell off the wall. 'Well,' she thought to herself, 'let's hear it for flirting.'

Tara waited until she was sure she was out of sight from the garden, then leaned back against the courtyard's wall and took a few deep breaths to steady herself. She had no real idea why she'd chosen that moment to kiss Willow, except that it had seemed like the best possible idea in the world. Any doubt, which had been entirely overridden in the moment, about whether she was moving faster than Willow wished was entirely erased by the look of pure delight on the Sorceress's face as she left.

'I did that,' Tara thought dazedly, 'that look was because of me. I kissed her, and then she looked so happy…I make her happy.' That thought, even more than the searing memory of the kiss itself, made Tara shiver with pleasure, and she was glad that none of the nobles had yet noticed her, because she was sure her expression was hiding nothing. She took a deep breath, and noticed a slight warmth between her legs, underneath her leather skirt. 'Oh goddess, I got wet from a kiss!' she thought giddily. She couldn't stop herself from shivering again, then she wondered if she should go back to her quarters and change her underwear. But no, she told herself she was being silly – it was barely a hint, far less than she was sure she'd be sweating once the hunt got underway. Besides, going back to her quarters would mean going back through the garden, where she'd probably find Willow, and then the Baron and his noblemen would have to pry her away with a crowbar.

She took a moment to turn her grin to something less gleeful, then made her way across to the Baron's party with a spring in her step. The Baron himself had arrived, and was busy greeting the nobles. Tara held back a moment, observing them – the Baron seemed to stand far less on ceremony than he had at the dinner, conversing with the others as if they were just friends out for a ride. He noticed Tara, and waved her over.

"Lady Tara," he said – Tara noticed some of the noblemen wince at his loud voice, and guessed they were nursing hangovers – "glad you'll be joining us. Show us some of that famous Amazon skill, eh? Stefan here is our best archer," he added, clapping a hand jovially on the shoulder of a tall, middle-aged man with long gray hair. He bowed to Tara and held out his hand.

"A pleasure," he said as Tara shook his hand, "if you can find the time, I'd appreciate a contest."

"That'll be something to see," the Baron interjected. He drifted off to welcome some more colleagues who were just arriving. Stefan stayed at Tara's side, showing polite interest as she selected a length of fire spinner silk and bent the bow back to string it. They exchanged bows for a moment, Stefan marveling at the craftsmanship of the Amazon weapon, Tara running a practiced eye over his bow, and noting that it was a strong design, perhaps lacking a little finesse, but certainly more refined than it looked on first sight. He thanked Tara and wandered off towards the Baron as a groom brought Tara a horse from the stables, which he said was called Kestrel. The horse dipped her head to let Tara stroke her long face, and Tara talked quietly in the horse's ear for a moment, letting her hear the sound of her voice. She was a friendly creature, and Tara found she was looking forward to a day's riding as she and the Baron's party mounted their steeds and headed through the main gate, with a pair of guards bringing up the rear.

Ahead of Tara the Baron's horse jumped a low ditch easily. Tara felt Kestrel's muscles bunching with power, then for a moment they were flying, before the horse's hooves touched the ground on the other side and she continued her gallop in the Baron's wake. Tara couldn't restrain a whoop of joy as they took the next jump – she had never before ridden so fast, with the wind in her face and her hair streaming out behind her. Riding at home, when it had been necessary, had always been fairly sedate: journeys to the outer villages too long to make on foot, but on the twisting paths through the forest it wasn't easy to guide a horse too fast. Now she put her weight on the stirrups and rose up just a fraction out of the saddle, one hand loosely holding the reins, the other steadying her balance on the horse's neck, and she smiled widely as she felt the air fly around her. 'Of course,' she admitted to herself, 'it's not just the riding.'

The Baron reined in his steed as the party finished crossing the castle's fields and reached the edge of a dense wood. Tara reluctantly swung herself off Kestrel's back, handing the reins to the groom who would watch the horses as they went deeper into the trees on foot. The Baron wasn't what Tara would call a precise hunter – he obviously knew a fair bit about the wood, which he had no doubt hunted in all his life, but he made no effort to hide his presence from the wildlife, crashing through the undergrowth and calling out to his nobles at the top of his voice. Most glimpses they had were of animals already beating a hasty retreat, but the Baron was enjoying himself. They meandered around, occasionally pausing when someone saw a beast that hadn't already made itself scarce, but they were usually so far away that when the hunter who spotted it fired his arrow, it landed short, or flew well wide of the mark. The Baron himself, in one of his rare quiet moments, had the fortune to spot a deer not far off, but he identified it as a female and moved on. Stefan told Tara that the Baron, unlike some of his predecessors, wouldn't hunt females or young, and also unlike most nobles had actually taken the time to learn to tell them apart by sight.

They paused in a clearing for lunch, emptying the bags carried by the servants trailing behind the hunting party of bread rolls and leftover meats from the previous evening's dinner. Some of the nobles were quite surprised to learn that Tara didn't eat meat, but the Baron merely shrugged jovially and handed her some cheese to go with the bread. No-one talked to her very much as they ate, but Tara didn't mind – they weren't being impolite, she decided, they just seemed a little wary of her. Besides, the bread was excellent, with juicy berries baked into it, and Tara's mind was on other things. Afterwards, though, Stefan engaged her in a discussion on the relative merits of short and longbows, which drew in the Baron and a few others, and their general nervousness about interacting with an Amazon seemed to drain away – at least, Tara observed, they no longer acted as if she was liable to explode or declare an oath of vengeance for no reason.

After a short while the Baron decided they should resume the hunt, and now he and his companions moved more stealthily. Tara was inclined to revise her opinion of him – he obviously knew how to blend in to the forest, to mask his noise and presence, he just didn't make it a priority at all times, as if he enjoyed the experience of the hunt more than just the successful pursuit of game. Without the ruckus they had earlier been making, the party soon spied a lone stag not far away, and the Baron waved Tara up to where he stood, half-hidden by a tree.

"Would you care for a chance?" he asked quietly. Tara wasn't in any hurry to kill the animal – Amazons never hunted to the kill for sport, only for food – but that thought prompted an idea in her mind, and she nodded and drew her bow. Without making a sound she drew an arrow from her quiver – one of the castle armory’s, for she had decided against using her own Amazon-made arrows. She drew back the bowstring and gazed along the length of the shaft, fixing her eyes on the animal beyond.

"I have it," she said after a moment's stillness, and slowly let the tension out of the bow.

"Excuse me?" asked the Baron.

"Amazons don't kill unless it's for food," Tara explained, "or defense. When we hunt for sport or practice, we only do it until we have a clear shot." She made her face a mask of professionalism, but the Baron seemed more curious than upset.

"Forgive my asking," he said, "but how do you know you'd have made the shot? No disrespect to your skills, of course."

"None taken," said Tara graciously. She glanced at the ground, and bent down to scoop up a small stone. She took the ribbon that had been tied around the necks of her arrows and looped it securely around the stone, knotting it tightly and handing it to the Baron.

"If you would, Baron, swing that as far as you can," she asked. He shrugged and took a few steps back, making sure he had room to swing the makeshift projectile without hitting anyone. Tara examined her stock of arrows for a moment before selecting one. Its weight was very close to those she was familiar with, and the flex in its shaft was very close to perfect. "Your craftsmen make good arrows, Baron," she observed, nocking it and drawing her bow, keeping it pointed at the ground.

"We know the value of good archery," the Baron answered. He then swung the stone around his head twice before releasing it off to one side of Tara. She was already screening out the distractions, the breathing of the Baron and the nobles, the shapes of the trees, the small sounds of animals moving, and leaves rustling in the breeze. She turned and fired in one smooth motion, almost able to see the flight of the receding stone, and the curve of her arrow as she launched it. The trailing ribbon jerked in the air, dragged off its course, and a cheer went up from the noblemen.

"My word!" the Baron exclaimed.

"No offence, Stefan," said another of the men to the old archer, "but my money's going to be on her bow."

"I fear I'll be outmatched," Stefan admitted, "but I'd still like that contest, if you're willing."

"Of course," Tara smiled, glad that her stunt had gone so well – she had gambled that her skill combined with the novelty of Amazon ways would prove more entertaining to the Baron and his men than bringing down the stag would have. Even as she smiled, though, her mind was still drifting through the frame of thought she entered whenever she practiced, seeing the world as shapes and speeds, translating all sight and sound into a field of objects at rest and in motion. She didn't even think as she leant back, her hand flashing out beside her, closing around something, and turning as its momentum spun her for a moment.

The Baron and his nobles were struck silent, as was Tara, as she slowly uncoiled her fingers from around the crossbow bolt she held. She blinked at it, uncomprehending – she hadn't even been aware of danger, she had acted entirely by instinct. Her mind snapped back to reality, and she dropped the bolt, which in turn seemed to snap her companions out of their own shock.

"Guards!" roared the Baron, drawing his sword, "over there! Go!" He stepped around Tara, standing between her and the unseen attacker as the two guards, and several noblemen, crashed through the undergrowth. Tara peered over the Baron's shoulder, seeing a man in dark green clothes scramble up from the ground, start to run, trip over something, and regain his feet too late as the guards reached him. Then the Baron was turning back to her.

"Lady Tara," he said sincerely, "I…am deeply shocked…you are a guest at my castle, my home, and…had you not been able to-" he broke off, then resumed: "I will find out what is behind this, I promise you!"

Tara nodded dumbly, unable to speak. She clenched her hands, trying to stop them shaking, as the Baron turned again to stare towards where his guards were none too gently hauling their captive back towards them. There was shouting from off to the west, where the sun was starting to slant through the tree branches, and more guards, leading horses, appeared. Their captain spotted the Baron and passed the reins of his horse to another guard, sprinting to his lord as quickly as he could.

"Baron," he panted, "you must come back to the castle…you must-" he paused to gulp a breath of air.

"What's going on?" demanded the Baron. "Someone just attacked the Lady here!"

"Your mage, sire," the captain said, "he attacked someone- he'd been doing black magic, sire!"

The Baron stared at the captain for a moment, dumbfounded, then strode past him and commandeered one of the horses the guards had brought. Tara sprinted after him, none of the men protesting as she took a horse and urged it on, following the Baron as fast as she could through the woods, all thoughts of her own close escape replaced by a cold fear for what she might find back at the castle.

Chapter 8

Tryptin and several of the Amazon merchants were waiting in the castle courtyard as the Baron rode in, with Tara on his heels. Tara reined in and jumped to the ground, leaving it to the grooms to take her horse to the stables as she sprinted across to the Amazons. The Baron was already dismounting, his chief advisor at his side, talking quickly.

"Where's Willow?" Tara asked before Tryptin could say anything. He seemed surprised at her question.

"She was in our common room a few minutes ago," he said, "she came asking whether you had returned not long ago, and I said she could wait there, if she liked."

"She's alright?" Tara demanded.

"Quite alright," Tryptin said, "but there's been some sort of incident-"

"The Baron's guard said that his mage had attacked someone," Tara explained quickly, "she was going to spend the afternoon with him, I thought-"

"She's fine," Tryptin reassured her, "she didn't seem upset, she certainly wasn't hurt." Tara took a deep breath to steady herself, feeling some of the tension drain out of her.

"I'll speak with the Baron," Tryptin went on, "find out what's going on. Did his guard say anything else?"

"Only that the mage attacked someone, and something about black magic," Tara said. A second group of riders came through the gate, noblemen and guards, one with a bound prisoner held on the saddle in front of him. Tryptin glanced at them, then turned his attention back at Tara.

"What happened?" he asked.

"H-he shot at us," Tara said, "at me." It felt odd to think it had happened barely a quarter of an hour ago – Tara's sudden fear for Willow had pushed the attack out of her mind, and throughout the ride back to the castle she had thought of nothing else.

"Are you alright?" Tryptin asked quickly. "You're not hurt, are you?"

"No, I-I'm fine," Tara said. Tryptin stared at her for a moment, then glanced around the courtyard.

"Why don't you go back to our quarters," he said, "Willow's probably still there. I'll speak with the Baron, and we'll…get this sorted out." Tara nodded, suddenly grateful for the chance to get away from all the people bustling around her. She noticed Tryptin's grim expression, though.

"Um, the Baron," she said, just as he was about to turn away, "h-he was…after the first shot, he shielded me. I-in case there was another. I…could you thank him?"

"I will," Tryptin said shortly, but Tara could see he appreciated what the Baron had done. He motioned to one of the merchants, a solidly-built man who Tara knew could handle his sword as well as a soldier. The he hurried towards the Baron, and Tara made her way through the gardens to the south wing. The merchant stayed with her, a few steps behind, and waited outside when they reached the common room.

Willow was sitting on a bench on the other side of the room, staring idly out of the window. She turned when she heard the door, and her face lit up when she saw Tara. Seeing her here, unhurt, seemingly carefree, Tara suddenly felt like crying as the tense knot in her stomach unwound itself. Willow saw her expression, and leapt up to meet her halfway as she crossed the room. Tara enveloped her in a tight hug, burying her face in Willow's hair, taking a deep breath of her scent and letting it out in a joyful sob.

"Wh-what's wrong?" Willow asked, wrapping her arms around Tara and stroking her back.

"Nothing," Tara cried softly, "nothing's wrong…I-I was worried, that's all…" She took a calming breath and released Willow just enough to look into her eyes. She saw the sudden concern and anxiety there, and smiled to reassure her.

"Are you alright?" Willow asked, smiling uncertainly.

"I'm fine," Tara said.

"Has something happened? Are you sure you're alright?"

"I'm alright, Willow," Tara said soothingly. "I was…well, while we were hunting someone shot at us…but I'm fine, I'm perfectly okay!" she insisted, as Willow's eyes widened in shock.

"Shot at you?" Willow squeaked. Her eyes darted over Tara's body, inspecting her as best she could, given that she seemed entirely reluctant to move any further away from her. Tara left one hand around Willow's waist, and used the other to cup her cheek and draw her eyes back up.

"I'm fine," she insisted gently. "I was just worried about you, that's all."

"You're shot at, and you worry about me?" Willow asked. "Tara, what's going on?" Keeping an arm around Tara's waist, Willow maneuvered her over to one of the padded lounges in the corners of the room and sat her down. She caught the end of one of her trailing sleeves and used it to gently wipe away Tara's tears. Tara gazed at her adoringly for a few seconds before she remembered it was her turn to talk.

"D-did you meet the Baron's mage?" she asked first. Willow rolled her eyes.

"Nope. I waited for an hour, but he didn't show up, and none of the servants were any help- why, has something happened to him?"

"I don't know," admitted Tara. "The guard who brought us in from the hunt said that he'd attacked someone, and he'd been doing black magic."

"You're kidding!" exclaimed Willow. "No, of course you're not…gods…he attacked someone…and you thought I was…?"

"I was worried," Tara said.

"I'm fine," Willow said firmly, "I never even saw him. Black magic…who said that? The guard?" Tara nodded.

"I don't think he saw anything," she ventured, "I think he was just told what to tell the Baron, and bring him back to the castle."

"Probably," Willow mused. Without quite realizing it she had let her sleeve fall, and ended up resting her palm against the side of Tara's face, stroking her cheek with her thumb. "'Black magic' is really just a layman's term," Willow said, "magic is what it does, not good or evil on its own…I wonder what he did?"

"Tryptin's talking with the Baron now," Tara said.

"They caught the person who shot at you?" Willow asked suddenly.

"Uh-huh, the guards brought him back with them. I suppose he's in a cell now."

"Good," Willow said firmly. Tara recognized the fierce protectiveness in her eyes, and felt warmed by it. She took advantage of Willow shifting her position on the chair to move closer to her, draping her arm over her waist. Willow grinned and curled up to Tara's side, still stroking her cheek tenderly.

"So, he missed?" she asked.

"Um, not quite," Tara admitted, "I caught the crossbow bolt." Willow's eyes widened again.

"You what now?" she asked, in bemused shock.

"Um, it's something we're trained for," Tara explained. "Being aware enough of everything around you that you can sense an arrow in flight."

"How do you train for something like that?" Willow asked. "I mean, unless you get it right first time?"

"Oh, no," said Tara, "the instructors aim beside us, a-and they start off with special arrows, with blunt tips, and they fly slowly. Once you learn how to grab one out of the air, they use faster arrows, and blindfolds, that sort of thing. We never actually get arrows fired at us."

"You're amazing," Willow said sincerely.

"N-not really," Tara said shyly, "it's just a matter of practice…"

"Hey," Willow insisted gently, "I'm a scholar, if I say you're amazing, that means you're amazing. No arguments," she finished with a grin.

"If you say so," Tara teased back, giving Willow's waist a squeeze that made her wriggle delightfully.

"Oh, so that's the way you want it," Willow said with a fiery glint in her eyes. Her fingers darted to Tara's exposed side, tickling her through her tunic just under the edge of her leather bodice. Tara squirmed and laughed, trying to catch Willow's nimble hand. When that eluded her, she lifted herself off the lounge just enough to free her other arm, which snuck under Willow's body and ran up and down her side, sending her into spasms of laughter.

"This isn't…really…fair," she protested, between giggles. She deftly twisted her wrist out of Tara's hand, which had finally caught her, and resumed her attack.

"Why's that?" demanded Tara, arching her back to try to keep her side away from Willow's fingers.

"Well," Willow said, leaning against the back of the lounge to trap Tara's hand, as her own was caught again, "you've got all this armor." She slipped her hand out of Tara's again, but instead of tickling her, Willow tapped the side of her leather top, which was quite thick enough to deaden the sensation. "See? I've only got this little tiny bit of Tara to work with…" She trailed off as their sudden stillness brought her attention to how close she was to Tara, barely an inch between her and Tara, their arms around each other, their thighs touching and ankles casually resting together off the edge of the lounge. Willow tried to finish her thought, and not be distracted by Tara's chest, which was moving very distractingly with her heavy breathing.

"Only this bit of you," she repeated, relaxing her hand against Tara's side, "and you've got," she gulped quickly, "all of me."

She saw Tara's eyes drop for a moment to the laces at the side of her bodice, then they were staring into each other's gaze again.

"You're right," Tara breathed, "it wouldn't do for people to say Amazons are unfair." Her lips curled into a playful, sensual smile that made Willow's breath catch in her throat. Tara's free hand drifted back from Willow's side, towards the laces. Willow was caught between the tiny, sensible voice inside her reminding her that they were in a common room where anyone could just walk in, and the rest of her thoughts which insisted that if she stopped Tara they would never forgive her. The way Tara unconsciously licked her lips as she looked down again silenced Willow's rationality, but just then they heard someone come in behind them.

"Tryptin!" Tara said, bolting to her feet. Willow scrambled up beside her, standing straight like a soldier at attention, her face flushing red at being caught- 'Well, not actually in the act,' she conceded, 'probably not really in a situation of the act being immanent, but at least with the possibility of an act, of some kind, being present in the near-future…' She realized Tryptin was talking, and told her nervous thoughts to shut up.

"The Baron has responded to this incident admirably," he was saying, mainly to Tara but with an occasional glance at Willow as well. "The man who attacked you today is being interrogated at the moment. I explained our requirements in this situation, and the Baron has agreed that his trial will be held before we leave."

"I see," said Tara flatly.

"As to the other matter, it's unclear at this stage whether it's related, but it is of some concern. The Baron's mage, a man named Hydris of the Vizjerei clan, is in custody, under close guard. It seems a castle maid was delivering lunch, and smelt smoke when she came in to leave his plate in the antechamber of his rooms. She went into his study, and found the mage conducting some sort of ritual, which frightened her. The mage drew a knife and attacked, she ran, he chased – luckily a pair of guards were in the corridor nearby, and they disarmed him before he could reach her. She took a cut, which I'm told is minor, one of the guards was wounded in the leg, but is expected to recover." He sighed, and glanced around the common room as a pair of Amazon merchants entered, talking quietly and seriously.

"If this has anything to do with your attacker," he went on to Tara, "or our presence in general, we must know. It could affect our entire mission. The Baron hasn't yet scheduled a trial for his mage, but he has agreed that we will be permitted to attend. I'll be speaking with him again later, to try to get our negotiations back on track. Oh, Miss Willow, the Baron asked after you, he would like to see you at your convenience before dinner tonight."

"Th-thank you," said Willow.

"A bad day," Tryptin said, to no-one in particular, "but no-one permanently harmed, thank the gods, and perhaps we'll pull something good from this after all. A person's true face is most often revealed in times of stress – I find I like the Baron. His conduct during this has been noble…He received your thanks, by the way," he said to Tara, "he was quite anxious that you did not think poorly of him for not protecting you further, as a guest of his."

"He's a good man," Tara said.

"Yes he is," Tryptin agreed. "I have business to attend to – this trouble has delayed several meetings already. Melcan will be on hand if you need anything. You too, Miss Willow."

"Thank you," Willow and Tara said together. Tryptin nodded and left, taking the two merchants with him. Willow felt unaccountably relieved to be alone with Tara again, and the pair found themselves sharing a conspiratorial smile.

"Wh-why do you think the Baron wants to talk to you?" Tara asked. Willow shrugged.

"I'm just guessing," she said, "probably to help figure out what his mage was doing. So far as I know there's only ever been one mage at the court here, so I suppose no-one else really knows how magic works…He might want me to go through the mage's rooms, study the ritual he was performing. Probably not what the Order had in mind when they asked him to instruct me," she added ruefully.

"Will you be okay doing that?" Tara asked gently.

"Oh…sure," Willow said. She sat down again, with Tara beside her. Glancing at her, Willow realized Tara could see her nervousness.

"I'll do it, it's important to know what he was doing, I just- I hope it wasn't a summoning," she explained glumly, gazing at the floor. "After what happened…the accident I told you about…demons scare me. I mean, obviously, they're demons and that's the whole point, but…I saw one," she admitted, "in Entsteig…a pure demon. I…If the mage had been trying to summon something, just the thought of being in his rooms-" she inhaled sharply and shook her head, trying to regain her composure. Tara gently pulled her into a hug, letting Willow's head rest on her shoulder as she stroked her hair. Willow let herself be held, her arms loose around Tara's waist, her breathing steadying as Tara soothed her. She placed a soft kiss on Tara's shoulder, and closed her eyes in contentment.

"I'll go with you," Tara said after a moment, her hands keeping up the gentle rhythm through Willow's hair and on her back.

"You don't have to," Willow said, even as she gratefully tightened her arms around Tara.

"I w-want to," Tara said, quietly but with an air of defiance. "Not so much to see what was going on, but…if you go, then I'll go."

"Thank you," Willow said, barely a whisper.

"A-actually, it's probably best for everyone," Tara went on, "if what the mage was doing had anything to do with Amazons being here, one of us should be witness to it."

"We could probably get a guard or two," Willow suggested. "Just to stand by while we're in there." Tara leaned down, her mouth close to Willow's ear.

"I only need you," she whispered. Her breath was hot against Willow's skin, and the tenderness in her words made Willow feel something she couldn't quite describe – protected, cared for…something else.

"You were really worried about me?" she asked in a small voice.

"Mmm-hmm," Tara confirmed, "I nearly overtook the Baron riding back." Willow hugged her a little closer.

"Not that I want you to worry," she insisted, "'cause, naturally, not being worried beats worrying hands down, just…thank you. You know what I mean?"

"I know," Tara said. "It was worth it…to find you here, and safe." Willow kissed her shoulder again.

"I wish I'd seen you riding back," she said quietly. "After we met in the garden this morning, when you, you know…kissed me senseless," she grinned, "I went up onto the battlements so I could watch you ride out. I was way over to the side, and let me tell you those walls are pretty high when you're up on top of them looking down. I saw you, though. First a couple of the other riders, then you. You were leaning forward, a-and your hair was streaming out behind you in the wind…Maybe there's something to this whole horse-riding business after all," she ventured with a grin.

"When we get time I'll teach you," Tara promised. "Not that I'm an expert or anything, but I've been trained a little. We'll find you a nice, kind horse, and we'll ride together, and you can hold on to me as long as you like."

'Ah, that's it,' Willow thought, suddenly understanding the warmth that was radiating through her. Protected, cared for…she felt loved.

Chapter 9

The Baron looked a good deal more formal than he had earlier in the day, and watching the way he shuffled the papers on his desk and breathed in with deliberate calm, as if composing himself, Tara guessed he was using the comfort of procedure to cover up some nervousness on his part. She and Willow entered the room when he looked up and beckoned them in, stopping a few paces from his desk and bowing.

The Baron's study was a large, airy room, obviously designed to impress visitors but with an unmistakable lived-in feel to it. The wall on one side was covered in shelves, cluttered with old leather-bound books, folded parchments and stacks of scrolls. From the slightly disordered look of it, this was not a library the Baron kept for form's sake, but rather one he used, and used often. There were cloth tags hanging out of some of the volumes, marking pages in them, and the occupants of several holes in the shelves were currently open on the Baron's desk, laid on top of one another. The other side of the room was taken up by a smaller desk, where the Baron's chief advisor sat, and a smaller set of shelves that had a more businesslike sense of organization to them. The advisor gave Willow and Tara a polite nod, then returned to his writing.

The Baron stood from behind his ancient, ornate desk and acknowledged their bows before returning to his seat. Behind him the far wall of the room was broken by tall windows, looking out to the west. The sun was beginning to set, but a series of candelabras spaced about the room were already lit, and provided ample light. The Baron seemed uncomfortable for a moment, glancing at his advisor before speaking.

"Miss Willow," he began, "and Lady Tara. I'm glad you're both here. This unfortunate matter of the mage involves the Amazons as well, it seems. Your diplomat has been very generous today, but I cannot deny the debt I have towards you. As your host, it is my duty to see to the well-being of all guests under my roof. Today I came close to failing in that duty; the least I can do is see that justice is done in your presence."

"Baron," Tara said when he paused, "you shielded me yourself today. No Amazon would ask for more." She wanted to reassure him further, to remind him of his bravery, but she sensed that he would take her words to heart more if they were given as one warrior to another, simple and understated. The Baron nodded, seemingly grateful.

"I am pleased to hear that," he said. "If only it weren't one of my own court who had put you in danger…" He noted Willow and Tara's confused expressions.

"I should explain," he went on. "Your diplomat has told you of the trouble that occurred today while we were on the hunt, involving my mage?" Tara nodded.

"It seems that it was no coincidence that you were attacked at the same time," the Baron continued. "My master-at-arms has interrogated your assailant, in my presence, and I am sadly sure that the men told us the truth. His name is Josef, he is known as a thief and brigand. There are some, in the far woods and the more inaccessible regions of the highlands. They come to the towns now and then, mingling easily enough with the locals – usually they indulge in a little thievery until they earn the attention of the constables, then they retreat to the remote areas and waylay careless travelers until it becomes safe for them to show their faces in civilized places again. This Josef was in Piotrsberg, a town not far from here, when he was approached yesterday by a man who offered him a job. He was given money, and promised more, in exchange for waiting in the woods today, stalking our party…and killing you," he finished, looking directly at Tara. She linked her hands behind her back, worried that they might start shaking, and did her best to maintain a warrior-like composure.

"Why?" Willow exclaimed, before realizing she had spoken out of turn and adopting a contrite expression. The Baron shrugged, taking the question in stride.

"That we do not know; he was not told. But I'm afraid there can be no doubt. He knew I would be leading the hunt, and which of my comrades would be with me. Our appearances and our hunting garb were described to him. Your appearance was described also – a 'blond-haired foreigner woman in leather armor carrying a bow' were the words he heard. That leaves little room for doubt."

"A-and from the level of detail in the instructions, y-you suspect someone in the castle?" Tara asked, concentrating on what she could deduce from the information as a way of forestalling her emotional reaction to it. Being shot at was one thing – hardly a desirable situation, but something every trainee warrior had considered at some stage – but being the target of a planned assassination was something Tara had never even dreamed of. She felt Willow's eyes on her, comforting her, and she was pleased they were here together. Even if they couldn't do more than stand side by side – she wanted to feel Willow's hand in hers, but it wouldn't be appropriate, in front of the Baron in an official capacity.

"If that were all," the Baron answered her, "then yes, I would suspect someone within the castle. But I'm afraid we know who this Josef took his orders from. My master-at-arms is a suspicious man, but he has a good instinct for this sort of sorry business. He showed Josef drawings of several members of the court, and thus we identified the mage, Hydris, as the one who did this."

Tara glanced at Willow. She herself wasn't as surprised as she might be – the suspicion had been forming in her mind even as the Baron had told her. But she could see Willow was shaken by the news. She relaxed her stance, letting her arms fall to her sides, and for a moment allowed her hand to brush against Willow's. They locked eyes for an instant, and Tara forced a reassuring smile to her face.

"Why he did this," the Baron started, and paused. "We don't know. He has refused to answer any questions. I assure you the moment I heard of what he had done, I stripped him of his position in the court, but he is still from a powerful family, and until a trial can be held, there is little we can do to compel him to reveal what he knows. I have spoken to him myself, and I…I think he may not be of sound mind." The Baron and his advisor shared a glum look, then he returned his attention to Willow and Tara.

"At any rate, I can tell you what we know. Hydris was conducting some kind of ritual, and when found he attacked the maid who saw him. He fought two guards in an attempt to pursue her, and injured one of them before he was disarmed and rendered unconscious. My advisor, who acts as regent during my absence, had him locked in a cell, once he had been searched and relieved of any objects that might contain some power he could draw on. His rooms have been sealed and placed under guard, but no-one has entered them. The maid, Kristanna, was…well, hysterical. She has calmed down, but she can give no clear account of what she saw. Perhaps the shock has affected her memory, but then again… she's just a domestic servant, from a family in Karlsband, it's entirely likely she simply has no understanding of what she saw, and so cannot describe it. I myself might have been likewise struck dumb – I have no mind for magic, I'm afraid I have always relied on Hydris to interpret anything of that nature. He never gave any indication that he was less than trustworthy…I find myself grateful that he seldom offered advice on affairs of state. Many lords, you know, rely on their mages as general advisors – it's an old tradition, the lord using the wisdom of his mage. It is just as well Hydris always remained remote from worldly concerns, or I fear I would have taken his advice without question, and who knows where that may have ended?" He sighed, then shook his head, dismissing his musings as he returned his attention to the women in front of him.

"Miss Willow, I must ask for your help," he said. "Many who've visited here have told of the Zann Esu's powers and wisdom, and the letter of introduction announcing your arrival spoke highly of you as a scholar. I would ask you if you would examine the mage's rooms, and determine what you can of his activities and possible motives. But first I must ask if you think there may be any danger to you in doing so?" Willow seemed a little surprised at the Baron's praise, but gathered herself quickly.

"Um, no sir," she said, "no, I don't expect his ritual would pose a danger, this long after he was interrupted. I'll take precautions, of course."

"Of course," the Baron agreed. "I'll have my master-at-arms make the rooms available to you, tomorrow if that is agreeable to you?" Willow nodded. "If you require the use of any of our guards, you have only to ask."

"Thank you sir," Willow said, "but I shouldn't think so. Um, Tara has offered to accompany me, if you suggested this…she'll be all the protection I need."

"I don't doubt it," said the Baron, glancing down at his papers and missing Tara's surprised glance at Willow. "Oh, one other matter," he went on, looking up again, "the feast is in two days. Naturally I considered whether it should be postponed, but with the mage in custody and my guards prepared for any further trouble, I have decided to go ahead with it. Hopefully it will go some way towards putting this sorry state of affairs from our minds, if only for a few hours…you are both invited to my table, if you would care to attend."

"Thank you Baron," Tara said.

"Yes sir," Willow nodded.

"N-not that I mind the flattery," Tara said, "but perhaps we should have a couple of guards with us tomorrow. In case there is anything dangerous, I mean…B-because sure, I've been trained, and my instructors were good, but the castle guards probably have a lot more experience, if you need to be protected, a-and I'll do my best but I'm no Valkyrie."

They were eating dinner in Willow's room, Tara having sent a servant to the Amazon quarters to let Tryptin know she would be back later. It was really two rooms, a small antechamber and a bedroom, but the outer room had been furnished for a single occupant – one chair, a desk, and shelves which Willow had filled with her satchels. One of them was open, and its books were stacked neatly beside it, but Willow had evidently not thought it worth unpacking the entire set onto the shelves, only to have to pack them up again a few days later. They ate in the bedroom, sitting on the large bed with plates balanced on their knees. On entering Tara had noticed the belt Willow had worn the night before, with its brilliant white-jeweled buckle, hooked over the end of the bed, and smiled at the memory.

"We won't need them," Willow said, "I don't think it'll be dangerous – at least, not that sort of dangerous. We'll have to be careful, that's all, in case there are any traps of curses set up to protect his rooms. I'll be able to draw out anything magical, and anything that looks suspiciously device-y we can set aside for later. I didn't mean you'd protect me like that, just…I'll feel safer with you there." She paused, and played with her food idly for a moment. "I don't want to go in there afraid," she admitted quietly. She looked up, right into Tara's gaze. "With you there, I won't be."

Tara smiled warmly, comforted to see Willow's resolve. She could see how much Willow was bothered by the idea of what the mage might have been doing, and she frankly admired her courage in facing it. She had never before been in a situation where someone relied on her for anything important, and though part of her was unnerved by the idea, and the fear that she might fail Willow in some way, she found she was oddly calmed by it at the same time. The thought that Willow could be strengthened just by her presence made her want to stay by her side always, and never leave her.

She thought about this for a moment, as she and Willow ate in companionable silence. They would be at the Baron's castle for a few more days, then the caravan would be moving on, to Duncraig via a handful of settlements along the highland road, which veered westward for a while before straightening out and heading north, to rejoin the river as it neared the capital. Tara wasn't sure exactly how long the journey would take, but she thought two weeks sounded about right. She would be at court for some time there, meeting the Duke and his lords, and there were certainly many mages in Duncraig Willow would study with. But then what? Willow would continue to travel through Westmarch before returning to her Order, while Tara and the Amazons would join a caravan heading back to Kingsport, and then sail home. Tara was slightly surprised to find that she was considering staying with Willow, traveling with her. Of course she wanted to stay with Willow, but…Tran Athulua was her home, the only one she had ever known. At the same time as she imagined traveling at Willow's side, sleeping beside her every night at inns and in caravans, discovering the world with her, Tara wondered whether, if she followed that path, she would ever see her home again.

She smiled at herself, reminding herself that those decisions were a long way off, and there would be plenty of time to think, and to find out what Willow wanted – not that she had any reason to think Willow would not want her. Ending up together on a caravan could happen to anyone, but if she made the choice to travel with Willow, well, that was a bold step. Tara didn't consider herself a bold person, and she acknowledged that such deep friendship, let alone love, was new to her. But the simple fact was that Tara knew, deep down, that if the choice was hers she would be leaving Duncraig at Willow's side, not with the Amazon mission.

'Love,' she suddenly thought, 'gods, did I just think that?' She had known almost from the start that she liked Willow, had quickly come to think of her as a friend, and had looked forward to deepening that friendship into its own kind of love. And there was no way she could deny she was attracted to her, not after the way she felt herself react to Willow's appearance at the dinner last night. 'Not to mention that kiss this morning,' she reminded herself, blushing pleasurably, 'that was hardly a companionable peck on the cheek.' Friendship, attraction, desire…but when had she fallen in love with Willow? Tara wasn't quite sure. Perhaps the moment they met, and it had just been waiting all this time. Or maybe it had been as she accepted first Willow's friendship, then their mutual attraction, and opened herself up to the possibilities from there. 'Perhaps it doesn't matter,' she thought idly, watching Willow chew her food, of all things, and secretly amused at herself for finding something so mundane so entrancing.

"What's a Valkyrie?" Willow asked suddenly, nudging Tara out of her reverie. "Is that like some kind of veteran warrior?"

"Something like that," Tara said with a grin. "Athulua is our central goddess, the wisest and most powerful. The Valkyrie are her handmaidens, th-they serve her and her consort Kethryes. They're the spirits of our greatest warriors, women whose names have become legendary. Some people say that if a warrior is noble, honorable, courageous…well, the ideal of an Amazon warrior, then Athulua will send a Valkyrie to fight by her side when she most needs it. Th-they say if a warrior is honored with a Valkyrie, it means that she's already earned her place with Athulua. That when she dies, whether it's in battle or of old age, she'll become a Valkyrie."

"Wow," Willow breathed, "that's…Do they really appear to warriors?"

"I don't know," Tara admitted, "I think so, though. Solari, my weapons instructor…she never said she'd seen a Valkyrie, but whenever people talked about them she was always absolutely sure they existed. I think, maybe, one fought with her once. I don't know really," she said with a shy grin, "I'm just guessing…it was just something about her. A-as if she didn't have to believe in them, because she knew."

"That's amazing," Willow said, "that's…some sort of transference with a divine realm…it's the sort of thing that the library back home only has myths about. The priests of Zakarum are supposed to be able to communicate with their ancestors, and a lot of sorceresses aren't even sure that's true. To actually take on physical form…that's almost angelic power! I've got to- It's not an Amazon secret sort of thing, is it?" she asked.

"Um, no," Tara said, "no, it's just a legend, really."

"This definitely belongs in our notebook," Willow decided. She put her plate aside, then paused and smiled serenely at Tara without saying anything.

"Wh-what?" Tara asked with a curious grin.

"Just thinking," Willow explained, "there's so much I never knew. I could listen to you forever." She paused again, and Tara thought she saw a hint of a blush forming on her cheeks. "Not that I'm just with you for the Amazon lore," Willow went on hastily, "I'm not…it's just, you know, additional goodness. But if you were born in the house next to mine, I'd still l- I'd like you just as much."

'She hesitated,' Tara thought, 'she was going to say…was she going to say love?' She gave Willow her warmest smile, while her thoughts swirled around. Was it possible Willow loved her? Tara didn't think of herself as unlovable, by any means, but when she thought of Willow…Willow, who could surely choose anyone she wanted…there was a very strong element of too-good-to-be-true to Tara's thoughts. 'Then again, she returned my friendship, my attraction…could it be our love, not just mine, that's been growing?' She couldn't say, but when she thought about everything that had happened between them…well, even the worst case scenario looked pretty good. Willow liked, her, valued her friendship, enjoyed their closeness, returned Tara's affection…shared with her the most exquisite kiss Tara had ever dreamed of. Even if that was all, if the love of such a goddess in human form really was just a wild hope, Tara decided she would count her blessings.

Tara returned to the Amazon quarters looking entirely gleeful and doing nothing to hide it. When she and Willow had finally parted – Willow promising to meet Tara immediately after breakfast – when they had stood in the doorway of Willow's room, exchanging goodbyes and until-tomorrows, she had had a sudden, tantalizing idea.

'I have to go,' she had said, her hands resting gently on Willow's waist, and then she had tightened her grip, puller her close and whispered softly in her ear: 'but just so you know I don't want to…'

She had paused just long enough to hear the sudden intake of breath as Willow recognized her own words, and what Tara meant by using them, then she let out a slow breath against Willow's ear. Willow shivered at the sensation of the hot air touching her, and Tara immediately followed it with a tiny, playful kiss, the tip of her tongue delicately touching Willow's earlobe before her lips closed on it and sucked briefly. She could feel Willow tremble in her arms, and she gave her ear the tiniest, gentlest nip between her teeth before leaning a little lower, placing a series of feather-light kisses along her jaw. She nudged Willow with her cheek, tilting her head up a fraction so she could leave a final kiss on the soft skin beneath her chin – and she had intended that to be the extent of it, but then Willow made a tiny sound, a sigh half-way between longing and disbelief. It was very quiet, not an abandoned moan of pleasure or a groan of passion, but it carried in it pure desire. Hearing it, realizing she had caused it, Tara allowed herself no choice but to bring her lips to Willow's and kiss her properly.

It was unhurried, undemanding, but utterly arousing. Tara felt Willow's lips open first, and her own followed without thought, then the tips of their tongues were touching – not deep and sexual, the way their kiss in the morning had been, just a series of tiny points of contact between their lips, which was nonetheless completely intimate. The part of Tara still capable of proper thought realized that she shouldn't push further, not yet – she wasn't ready to spend the night with Willow, and if this kiss grew any more heated than it already was, it would be decidedly difficult, not to mention frustrating, to back away. Soon, she promised herself, not yet, but not very far away, and she knew she had within her the patience to wait until she was ready, when there would be no hesitation. In the meantime, she let herself get lost in the sensations of the kiss, the softness of Willow's lips moving slowly against hers, the gentle touch of Willow's hands on her back, even the tiny vibrations that ran through her throat as she gave little, inaudible sighs of pleasure.

At last, together, they reined in their movements, their lips closed, stayed lightly pressed against each other for a moment, then parted. Tara wondered briefly if there was anything she could say, but seeing the look in Willow's eyes she knew she didn't have to say anything. She turned and walked away down the corridor, stopping just briefly to glance over her shoulder as she turned the corner, to see Willow watching her, looking completely joyful.

Willow, staff in hand, did indeed show up outside the common room just as Tara and the Amazons were finishing their morning meal. Both of them were conscious of the merchants and negotiators still eating and discussing the day's business around them, so Tara restrained herself to holding Willow's free hand, and parting her lips in a silent, wished kiss that Willow saw and beamed at. 'Not that they'd mind,' Tara thought, as she cleared away her plates and ducked into her bedroom to collect Silverstrike, 'but some thing are best done in private.'

"Ready?" she asked Willow.

"Ready," Willow confirmed, taking Tara's hand again as they nodded their goodbyes to Tryptin and left the common room.

"So, a-any advice?" Tara asked as she let Willow lead her through the castle. "W-with unknown magical equipment, I mean."

"I don't think there'll be any problems," Willow said, with a fair degree of confidence. "I was just a bit worried about, you know, being there…it shouldn't be dangerous, but I guess it'd be like being on an old battlefield, you know?" Tara had never even seen a real battlefield, but she had spoken to enough of the older warriors to recognize what Willow meant, and she nodded. "Anyway," Willow went on, "I worked out all my jitters when I woke up, I-I'm pretty calm about it now. I'm still glad you're with me, of course," she hastened to assure Tara.

"Always," Tara promised, which she was gratified to see made Willow grin and blush at the same time.

"Um, there shouldn't be much to worry about," Willow said, "just…well, simple stuff. Don't read anything out loud unless you already know what it means. If there's any jars of blood or anything like that, or if – gods forbid – you cut a finger or something, don't get blood on anything that looks like a mystical artifact…it's all pretty much common sense. Powerful magic isn't easy, and demonology is only easy if you want to summon a demon, which we really don't, so I don't think we're in any danger of accidentally triggering anything. We'll take it slow, though."

Tara went over Willow's advice to herself, and concentrated on her senses as they crossed to the castle keep, heightening her awareness of the forms and sounds around her so that she wouldn't miss anything. In doing so she found she became very aware of Willow – the touch of her hand, the motion of her as they walked, even the faint trace of her scent. She was surprised to find it wasn't really a distraction, so much as a comfort. Soon enough they arrived at the door to the mage's rooms, high in the observatory tower. Two guards were standing outside, with another pair further up the corridor, keeping watch from a distance. They recognized Willow and stood aside, both of them glancing between her and Tara, their eyes drawn to her spear, which with its silver-white blade and inlaid decoration in the shaft was no doubt very different to the kind of weapons they were used to seeing.

The antechamber was small, and mundane. A couple of chairs, a small table – still with a tray bearing yesterday's lunch on it, which fortunately didn't include anything that was particularly pungent as it aged – a map of Kingsport and the surrounding countryside, and a simple chart showing phases of the moon, both pinned to a cork board attached to one wall. There was a narrow archway on one corner, with a spiral stairway leading up to the observatory on the floor above, and two doors. Willow checked the closed one first, peering in to confirm that it was the bedroom, before approaching the door that had been left ajar.

The room beyond was the largest of the suite. Three tall windows faced east, letting in the morning sun. Tapestries adorned all the walls that weren't occupied by shelves, ancient and worn, some displaying geometric patterns, others with the faded remnants of historical scenes. Aside from bookcases and sets of shelves between the windows and beside the door, two entire walls were covered with bookshelves that reached to the ceiling – there was even a ladder, its top supported by tiny wheels resting on a metal rail that ran the length of one of the top shelves. Up near the roof the shelves were closely-spaced, carrying tiny, thin volumes; lower down the shelves, and their occupants, were larger. The bottom shelf, a few inches from the floor, bore huge tomes bound in thick leather, with heavy brass corners and edges on the bindings, some of them large enough that they would need a whole table to themselves to be read.

Hanging in the center of the room was a low chandelier, the candles melted down to stumps, dribbling wax down their sides. Some of the droplets had fallen to the floor, dotting a geometric mosaic that had already been obscured by trails of colored sand, laid out in a complex pattern that was difficult to see above the tiles themselves.

"Don't step into that," Willow advised. The thought had already occurred to Tara – the pattern as indistinct, and one part of it had been badly scuffed by someone's feet, but she was fairly sure she could make out a circle in the design, and even to her mind a circle meant summoning. She avoided the center of the room, instead turning her attention to a long desk, positioned in front of what was evidently a lesser-used set of shelves. It had a few books open on it, but was mostly taken up by intricate metal devices, wheels and arcs of brass hinged together, with tiny numbers engraved on them. Tara thought one of them looked very much like a device Eponin, the mistress of her clan house, had in her study, that showed the positions of various significant stars at certain times, but many of the others were completely beyond her. Most of them were quite beautiful, she thought, but one stood out – a small construct of bent arcs and jagged vanes, fashioned from a dull gray metal. That alone looked somehow malevolent.

"Willow," she said, gesturing to it while keeping her hand well clear of it. Willow glanced at it, and frowned as if a dark suspicion had been confirmed.

"Oculus Daemonicus," she said with a slight shiver, "the demon's eye. It's a sort of orrery, like these others, but instead of stars and planets it shows the positions of the planes of Hell. Well, that settles it, he was using demonic magic."

"Y-you're sure he was using it?" Tara asked, hoping to assuage the dark cloud that seemed to settle on Willow as she pronounced her verdict.

"The circle is pretty strong evidence," she answered, though Tara could see she was grateful for the suggestion, "but the eye is conclusive. It's not just a positioning mechanism, they're made by followers of demonic magic. Part of their purpose is to help rituals like this one, to actually make contact with demons. I've seen one before, in the Zann Esu library – they have a sort of neutral setting, and if the mage didn't want to use this, this one would be aligned like that too. It's not."

She stood in front of the desk, glancing at Tara as if to steel herself, then reached for the device. Tara's first instinct was to question her, but she let herself trust that Willow knew what she was doing. She noticed a thin layer of mist form around her hand, as if the air was chilling – 'a form of defense?' she wondered. Willow gently took hold of one of the eye's protruding vanes and twisted it slightly. Two of the arcs slid a little way around their axles, and Willow let go. Tara thought that the thing seemed…well, deader than before, and was surprised to think she had been noticing something in it that might be thought of as alive. Willow noticed Tara staring at her hand, and wiggled her fingers, grinning.

"Like I said, we've got spells to keep us safe," she explained. "That was just in case, I wouldn't have touched the thing if I really thought it could be dangerous, but it's best to take precautions anyway."

"H-how does it work?" Tara asked. "The spell, I-I mean, not the eye."

"Oh, it's just an application of cold magic," she said, "we call it 'chill armor'. Informally, of course. Cold magic can slow down pretty much anything, just by freezing the energy out of it. A really powerful sorceress can cast an armor strong enough that any weapon trying to hit her just- well, stops," Willow shrugged. "I've seen it demonstrated. You can swing a sword at it, or fire an arrow, and all the force just gets leached out of it." Tara could see her cheering up as she put the demon's eye out of her mind. "Heh, you know, there's this really weird demonstration that trainees do when they're learning how to cast the armor, to show us how strong it can be. One of the elders, the really powerful sorceresses who teach us, cast an armor on herself, and then each of the trainees gets a short sword and takes a swing at her side. She – it was a woman called Prospera who taught my class – was just wearing traditional battlegear, you understand, just like I was the other night, completely open at the hips, where we were swinging at. I was really afraid I'd hurt her, even after I saw some of the others go first – nuh-uh," she said, grinning at Tara, "it was like hitting a stone column. I dropped the sword, and my arm ached all that afternoon. Prospera didn't even move!"

"Wow," said Tara, very impressed, "th-that must be pretty useful."

"You bet," said Willow with a grin, "but that's what cold magic is all about. Fire is the best magic for attacking, for doing damage, lightning is the most versatile – cold is all about defense."

"I'm glad you're good at it," Tara said sincerely. Willow beamed a smile at her, and leant forward to kiss her on the cheek for an instant. Tara was surprised to find herself blushing, but then glad that she was – she liked being able to be as bold as she had become around Willow, yet still feel so pleasantly flustered at such a little thing.

With Tara's help, Willow moved on to the shelves, climbing the ladder and sorting through the books on the high shelves, passing them down for Tara to stack in piles – 'safe' over near the door, and the handful Willow proclaimed 'evil', but harmless to handle, on the other side of the room, beneath the window. Most of the time was spent with Willow leafing through the books, searching for any reference to demonic magic and summoning, but Tara didn't mind the periods of inactivity. Willow was wearing a long skirt, but one slit up quite high for ease of movement, and when she was perched on the ladder skimming books, with Tara standing on the floor beside her, the skirt tended to pull to the side Willow leant to, leaving Tara's face barely inches from an expanse of smooth thigh that fascinated her. In the stretches of time when Willow was silently reading, she occupied herself blissfully by imagining leaning over just a fraction to kiss Willow's perfect skin, and luxuriated in the flutterings the thought caused in her, and found the morning passing quite quickly.

Chapter 10

By midday Willow had emptied one wall of books and begun on the second. Eight books lay in a neat stack by the windows. Willow was still absorbed in the shelves when Tara noticed the shadows outside had reached their shortest point, but she was happy to leave the books alone for a while when Tara suggested they break for lunch. They emerged from the mage's rooms to find the guards handing their duties over to their replacements, and one of the departing guards promised to send someone up from the kitchen with enough food for everyone. Willow and Tara ate in the antechamber, sending the leftover meal from the day before back to the kitchens to be disposed of, thus freeing the small table for their own meal. It was only a small surface, intended for letters and such when no-one was in the rooms to receive them, and sitting on either side of it, Willow and Tara's knees tended to rest against each other beneath the table. Neither minded at all.

"S-so, do you have any theories?" Tara asked between bites.

"Well, it's definitely a summoning circle on the floor," Willow said, "I've read plenty of descriptions of them. Not pictures, of course, if you drew one on a page it'd still have some of the same power as if it was done properly, but there are key features that I recognize. And from that it's obvious that whatever Hydris was doing, he didn't get to set it in motion before he was disturbed."

"Hmm?" Tara asked.

"Summoning circles vanish once they're used," Willow explained. "And he can't have gotten very far in empowering the circle, or it wouldn't have been possible to disturb the pattern the way he did – when he ran after the girl, I suppose. The texts I've read say that once a circle incantation gets properly underway, the circle is difficult to destroy, it sort of has a life of its own. The smoke the girl smelt was probably part of the initial incantation to wake the circle. We were lucky there, if he'd been further into the summoning, even if he'd been disturbed, whatever he was trying to summon might have been able to complete the ritual from the other end."

"Why would anyone summon a demon?" Tara wondered aloud.

"Power," Willow said flatly. "Magic is all about drawing power from outside yourself, and shaping it into the effect you want. There all sorts of sources of power – your gods and goddesses, for example. Mine is cold, which is one of the primals – fire, cold and lightning represent the three primal elements that the world is built on. The cold before creation, the fire of the world's birth, and the lightning energy that binds it all together. There's elements in alchemy too – you know, earth, fire, air, water, everyone knows those ones – they're what the world is made of, but the primals are what the world was made by."

"You can control that kind of force?" Tara asked, wide-eyed.

"Yeah, the Esu witches didn't mess around when they chose a discipline to follow," Willow quipped. "Well, it wasn't really about how effective they are. They wanted to avoid the kind of corruption that the other clans were experiencing. The primal elements existed before good and evil, so they can't be influenced by either one. Whether a sorceress is good or evil is her choice, she can't be influenced through her magic…Anyway, I'm getting sidetracked. What was I saying? Oh, demons…Demons can draw power from within themselves. They're the opposite of angels, angels have the power of creation, demons have the power of destruction. The theory is that you summon a demon, bind it to your will, and hey presto, you've got a source of power that never runs dry. Of course it's destructive power, but no-one complains because people who summon demons are usually doing it because they want to destroy something or other."

"But it doesn't work like that," Tara observed, seeing where Willow was going.

"Nope," she agreed, "that's just the theory. Most of the demonology texts spell it out like that, but that's not surprising seeing as most of them were created by demons or their allies to lure people into summoning them…See, the binding has to be done by the mage. If it fails, the demon is set loose. And the demon has its own power to challenge the binding, while the mage has only whatever power he can draw from around himself. In the end, the demon always wins."

"Don't they realize that?" Tara asked. "The mages, I mean?"

"Some of them," Willow allowed, "some of the time. Mostly either they don't know, or they don't care. They convince themselves that they can hold the binding, that they won't be overpowered, or that they can banish their demon before it turns on them. I can't figure out that circle, though," she added, glancing at the door to the study.

"What about it?"

"I can't see anything around it that looks like a binding circle," Willow said, "either he was going to draw it while the ritual was going on, which is risky, or he wasn't going to use one…that's just plain stupid. Even the kind of people who summon demons know you can't trust them. I don't know. I'll have another look at it, try to work it out, then we'll get rid of it. I don't think there's any power left in it, but I'd like it gone anyway."

"M-me too," Tara admitted, "you know, I keep worrying that I'll forget it's there, and walk right into it or something." She shrugged and cast a shy smile at Willow.

"Then that's the first thing we do," Willow promised, "no more circle."

Willow made good on her promise the moment she and Tara had finished lunch. She spent a moment examining the pattern from all angles, then shrugged to Tara and took a step back from it. With one hand she created and aimed a billowing stream of condensation, which soaked the circle and blurred the intricate runes that had been painstakingly formed by the tiny trails of sand.

"That should do it," Willow said. Tara was relieved, and could see that Willow was too – she had a spring in her step that had been absent before as she retrieved a broom from the antechamber and began sweeping the wet sand into a pile.

"You know- ow!" she exclaimed suddenly. Tara started, suddenly fearful that something had gone wrong, but Willow shot her a quick look to reassure her, and picked up a tiny stone from the floor, where she had trodden on it. She examined it, moving to the window for better light.

"Take a look at this," she said. Tara did, and saw the pebble was in fact a tiny pyramid, its four miniscule faces each carved with a single rune.

"I think we've found our binding circle," Willow said triumphantly. She dropped the carved pebble into Tara's palm and began sifting through the pile of sand she had created, which was beginning to dry out. She found more stones, each only the size of the tip of her little finger – cubes, balls, more pyramids, each with a handful of runes carved on it.

"Must've been underneath the sand," Willow guessed, "I haven't heard of that, but then again I'm not really the expert on all things demonic and dumb-to-experiment-with…Some of these are runes of power, though." She sorted through the collection of stones, examining each one before placing it on the desk.

"Power, power," she murmured as she identified each one, "something to do with location, this one's to reinforce the spell, this one I don't know, maybe some sort of astrological siphon though…whoa, this is interesting."

Tara peered at the stone between Willow's fingers. It was a tiny disc, smooth on one side, with a single rune on the other.

"What is it?" she asked.

"It's an old form of writing, from Kehjistan before they invented the Khejan alphabet. I think it says 'Hydris', or something phonetically similar. He customized the spell to himself. What was someone that bright doing with demons?"

"It's difficult to do?" Tara asked.

"It's…well, elegant," Willow said, "most rituals have been done for centuries, with dozens of mages studying them and perfecting them in a generic form. To break down a ritual and alter it so it's optimized for a particular caster is…well, it's a hell of a lot of work, but if you do it right it makes it easier, and better."

"I-I got the impression summoners didn't have too much power of their own," Tara said, "th-that they were looking for a quick way to gain power."

"That's almost always true," Willow said. "I guess we've found an exception, though. Can you see another one of these around somewhere?" Tara sorted through the small pile of stones, while Willow checked the sand and the center of the room to make sure she hadn't missed any. She found another sphere, but no more discs.

"Why?" Tara asked.

"Just a hunch," Willow said, "I thought maybe if he altered the ritual to himself, he might have done the same for the demon he was trying to reach. That'd be the most efficient way – instead of a 'mage binding demon' spell, he'd have an optimized 'Hydris binding insert-name-here' spell. Strange…if he had the ability to do half of it, it shouldn't have been difficult to do the rest." She shrugged.

"Maybe he was in a hurry?" Tara suggested.

"Or just nuts," Willow said, "the chasing people with knives episode doesn't sound like someone in their right mind. Demonology can do that. Oh well…"

She put the sand and the rune stones beside the books she had chosen as being dangerous, quickly checked the smaller bookcases – all inconsequential volumes, she found – and then went back to work on the second wall of shelves, Tara replacing the safe books on the first as she did. She did the top first, then turned the ladder over to Willow once she had filled all the shelves that were out of reach from the floor.

"Is there anyone else here you're supposed to study with?" Tara asked after a while.

"No, Hydris was it," Willow said, talking and reading at the same time. "Kingsport isn't really a place where mages make their homes. Too commercial, I think. Ember's notebook had a lot about all the shipping trade that passes through the port, apparently even the towns out here are caught up in it. Mages don't like too much business going on around them, as a rule. They prefer…oh, you know, quiet towers where they can stargaze and collect rare art, without running into merchants and laborers whenever they have to go out to get some supplies. I suppose I didn't really expect too much from the mages in the city. Hydris probably wouldn't have lived here, if it weren't for the position – being mage to a noble court is pretty prestigious."

"Will Hydris's clan send a new mage?" Tara asked.

"Once they hear what's happened, I guess so. They'll probably send a team to investigate, and have one of them stay on with the Baron when they're finished. That's what the Order does. The Zann Esu were pretty much completely isolationist until the Reckoning, so there aren't any ancient traditions of how sorceresses get chosen for court appointments. We basically stole all those practices from the Vizjerei."

"So," Tara went on, "nothing to do until Duncraig?"

"No-one to meet," Willow clarified, "but that just means more time to spend with you." She blushed, and glanced over her shoulder. Tara smiled fondly at her, which seemed to reassure her she hadn't assumed too much.

"You promised to teach me how to use a bow," Willow reminded her, returning her attention to the books, but with a wide smile now adorning her face.

"I haven't forgotten," Tara promised. She was pleased beyond words that Willow was looking forward to being with her, even if it wasn't very much of a surprise. She had also noticed the playful tone in Willow's voice when she reminded Tara of her promise, and that set her mind working.

The next time Willow finished with a half-dozen books and called for Tara to take them to the 'safe' pile, Tara balanced the books in one hand, used her other hand to gently draw the back of Willow's skirt aside, revealing the back of her thigh, and quickly placed a kiss there. She heard Willow's startled intake of breath, but she immediately turned, and felt Willow's gaze on her back as she crossed the room and added the books to the newest of the stacks forming there. She picked up several of the morning's books from their pile and headed to return them to their shelves, and as she did so, she was sure she caught a glimpse of a wicked smile on Willow's face as she quickly turned back to her work.

She repeated her teasing kiss when next Willow had some books for her, and this time glanced over her shoulder as she walked away. She was just quick enough to see Willow notice her looking and turn away, hiding her excited grin. Next time she collected some books, she leant down a little and gave Willow a playful nip on the sensitive skin on the back of her knee. She was sure she heard the beginning of a moan, quickly hushed, but otherwise Willow continued the pretence that she was absorbed in her reading. After that she returned to kisses for a couple of trips, but she noticed with a sly grin that Willow had taken to handing her one book at a time, rather than waiting for an armful to be finished with.

Tara continued her game through the afternoon, pausing only to bring in a candelabra from outside when the waning light on the castle walls beyond the windows no longer lit the room enough to read by. For the most part she restrained herself to brief kisses, on the side or back of the thigh revealed by the slit in Willow's skirt. Now and then, in the interests of keeping Willow guessing, Tara told herself, she would vary her technique. She once drew the skirt across far enough to kiss Willow's other thigh, on the side the skirt wasn't slit, so that for an instant both her legs were revealed almost as high as they went. When Willow started on the final, top shelf, and moved up a step on the ladder, Tara gently grazed her teeth over the back of Willow's knees, or touched the skin there with the tip of her tongue. All the while she was conscious of the increased speed of Willow's breathing, and the breathy tone her voice took on whenever she told Tara she had finished with another book.

Tara began to pay close attention to how many books Willow had left, and escalated her teasing. When Willow finished with the bulky Vizjerei histories, Tara leant up and left a kiss just a little further towards the inside of her thigh than she had previously. When the scrolls were done, she bent down to press her open lips to Willow's calf for a second, just above the top of the soft boots she was wearing. At last there was only a small stack of map-books to go, and as Willow was positioned directly in front of them, Tara couldn't see exactly how many of them there were. On the first, she rubbed her cheek gently against Willow's thigh before quickly kissing it and withdrawing. On the second she kissed the back of her knee again, this time trailing a finger up her calf as she did so. On the third, she started at Willow's knee, and slowly drew her tongue up along the length of Willow's thigh, stopping just before she would have had to get the skirt out of the way completely. She felt the shudder that ran through Willow, and her own legs were feeling more than a little shaky, but she composed herself and managed to give off an air of benign indifference as she carried the book over to the stacks, sure Willow was watching her all the way.

"Last one," Willow said – she did her best to sound nonchalant, but Tara could hear the anticipation she was trying to hide. She set her face in a perfectly neutral expression, and walked across to Willow, who had come down a step on the ladder, still facing the shelves.

Instead of handing Tara a book, Willow turned around on the ladder, looking down at her with a victorious grin.

"Actually," she admitted, "we're out of books."

"You know," Tara said with a smile, "it's not nice to fool a simple Amazon girl like that."

"Oh no?" Willow replied, taking a further step down the ladder. "And what might this simple Amazon girl do now that she knows her innocent trust has been taken advantage of?"

Tara took a step forward, which left barely an inch between her face and Willow's chest as she stared up at her.

"Well," she whispered, "maybe she'll go out and sulk in the gardens?"

"That's no fun," Willow said, taking one more step down, her thighs touching Tara's hips as she did so. "I think she should stay here, and let me make it up to her."

"Are you sure?" Tara asked with a teasing grin. "You know what Amazons are like with honor…it might take a lot of making up." She took another half-step forward, pressing Willow against the ladder. Willow's grin broadened into a wide smile. Before Tara knew what was happening, Willow had shook her leg free of her skirt and raised it around Tara's waist, using it to hold Tara there while her hands gripped the sides of the ladder.

"I'll be thorough," she promised. Quick as a flash she leant down and kissed Tara, pressing her open lips against Tara's mouth, while her tongue sought entry. Tara opened her mouth at once, and pressed back, their tongues dueling in a private frenzy of pent-up desire. Willow had to keep one hand on the ladder to help herself balance, but the other pressed against Tara's back, drawing her as close as she could be. Tara wished she had chosen a thinner tunic, nevertheless feeling every motion of Willow's hand as if it were lighting a trail of fire on her skin. She quickly returned the favor, snaking both her arms around Willow's waist, between her back and the rungs of the ladder, firmly stroking the smooth curves of her body.

Willow moaned loudly without breaking the kiss, which sent a bolt of desire through Tara the like of which she was quite sure she'd never felt before. She wrapped one arm around Willow's waist, making her arch her back so that every inch of their bodies was pressed together, while her other hand reached the back of Willow's head, her fingers tangling themselves in Willow's hair. Willow adjusted the leg she had clamped around Tara, pressing her thigh against Tara's side, rubbing it seductively up and down between her waist and her hip. Tara let out a little aroused cry, and lost all her concentration for a moment, opening her lips wide and letting Willow's tongue claim her mouth unopposed.

The kiss continued for a moment, until Tara drew the hand on Willow's back down over her hips, and then up underneath the bare leg wrapped around her side. Willow tore her lips away and threw her head back – if not for Tara's restraining hand, she would have fetched herself a nasty bump on the ladder.

"Tara!" she exclaimed, just managing to keep her voice down to a husky growl, so as not to alert the guards two doors away. "Gods," she breathed, gazing back down into Tara's eyes. Tara could see the desire in her eyes – she knew it well enough from having felt it build in herself all afternoon.

"Willow," she whispered, at once a declaration and a plea. Willow shifted her hips, sitting on the ladder's closest step, and lifted her other leg up around Tara, her skirt bunching around her right thigh as her ankles hooked around each other in the small of Tara's back. They kissed again, and again, pressing their open lips together in between quick gasps for air, both losing themselves in the sensations as their lips became wet, and their tongues stroked sensuously along each other's lengths. Tara drew her fingers out of Willow's hair and traced a path down her back, tantalizingly close to her bottom as she passed over her hips. Finally she had both hands beneath Willow's thighs, her palms pressing firmly up against Willow's legs, her fingers curling inward, rubbing against her inner thighs. Willow let go of the ladder, trusting Tara not to let her fall off, and wrapped both arms around Tara's waist, stroking up and down her back. She quickly began to broaden the trails she was exploring with her hands, coming in at Tara's sides, her thumbs just beginning to reach the sides of Tara's breasts. Tara's breathing, between kisses, became increasingly ragged. She started letting out little cries with each breath, mingling with the moaning that Willow was giving voice to with increasing volume.

After her bold start, Tara could scarcely believe what was happening. She had spent the morning dreaming about kissing Willow's thigh, a simple act which she found incredibly erotic by itself – she hadn't really thought, until the moment came, that she would actually go through with it. Her teasing of Willow had gone ahead in a daze of delight, but never – not that morning, not the night of the dinner when she had first seen Willow, nor any other time she had allowed herself to fantasize about touching her – never had she imagined such a monumental, intimate and above all unrestrained embrace. Her hands seemed to have minds of their own, gently stroking and squeezing Willow's thighs, her mouth returned Willow's kisses with a passionate frenzy she would never have guessed she was capable of, and when she thought she felt a distinct warmth between Willow's legs, pressed against her belly through the fabric of her tunic, she wondered if this was when she would pass out.

She never found out whether she would lose consciousness, but her heart nearly leapt out of her chest when she heard a loud banging from the door behind them. She opened her eyes, staring straight into Willow's equally wide-eyed stare for a split second, before Willow jolted in surprise and lost her seat on the ladder. Tara staggered backwards slightly, but kept her balance as Willow's hands clutched her back, so she ended up in the middle of the room, her arms supporting Willow, whose four limbs were wrapped around her and who was clinging like a shocked limpet.

"Lady? Miss Willow?" came the voice of one of the guards from beyond the door. "Is everything okay, ma'am? We heard raised voices."

Tara managed to close her lips and draw back from the motionless kiss she was sharing with Willow, who for her part simply stared, wide-eyed and open-mouthed.

"Miss Willow? Lady Tara?" came the guard's voice again, this time more than a little anxious.

"We're fine!" Willow yelled suddenly, her voice notably higher than usual. "Everything's fine! Thank you! Don't come in, we're cleaning up the ritual! Thanks!"

"Very well ma'am," came the guard's voice, after a moment's pause in which neither Willow nor Tara dared breathe. "Sorry to disturb you. See, I told you, it's just magic goings-on…" the voice trailed off, evidently addressed to the second guard, and audible to Willow and Tara only because of the dead silence in the room.

For a moment both Willow and Tara remained silent, listening to the sound of the antechamber's door being closed. Then Tara bit her tongue, Willow gnawed on her bottom lip, and they both burst into a fit of giggles.

"Um, you can put me down now," Willow managed to squeak between laughs. Tara let her thighs slide out of her grip, and Willow gently returned to the floor, keeping her arms casually looped around Tara's waist. Tara stared at her, falling in love with her mischievous grin. Though the intense passion of the moment had been swept away, now that the shock was wearing off she was barely able to keep herself from giggling again at the absurdity of the situation.

"You're strong," Willow observed, her voice slightly dreamy. Tara blushed and looked down.

"Yeah, w-well," she said, "I'm an Amazon, you know."

"I had kind of linked the strength thing with being all stern and intimidating. This is like…best of both worlds," Willow finished with a wink, which made Tara giggle again.

"Um, w-we should finish up here," Tara said after taking a deep breath to steady herself.

"I'll help," Willow offered, darting towards the piles of books that needed to be returned to the shelves she had been checking. Between them they managed to have everything back in its place, aside from the three more books that had gone on the 'evil' stack, in record time. Willow had to climb the ladder again to replace the volumes on the top shelves, and Tara took the chance to plant a quick kiss on the outside of her thigh, receiving a brilliant smile from Willow in return. Otherwise, though, they contained themselves.

It was as Tara was leaning down to pick up the last pair of books that she noticed something half-hidden under the bottom of the skirting board, where it didn't quite reach the floor. She handed the books to Willow and crouched down, nudging the tiny object out of hiding with the tip of her finger.

"Willow?" she called. She picked up the tiny stone disc and glanced at it, seeing the lone rune on its face, before handing it to Willow.

"How did it get over here?" Willow wondered.

"Maybe," Tara thought aloud, "if they were in the circle, when he kicked the sand it got knocked away. I-is it the demon rune?" She looked over her shoulder, and saw that Willow's face had paled.

"Yes," she said, her voice hoarse. Tara was on her feet and gently holding Willow's arms by the elbows as she continued to stare at the rune, her breath coming in short gasps.

"Willow, what's wrong?" Tara asked, almost afraid to raise her voice louder than a whisper.

"I-it's the name," Willow said, "th-the…demon's n-name. I-I've seen it."

"You've seen the name before?" Tara asked gently. Willow shook her head.

"The demon," she said, her voice flat and thick with buried emotion, "I've seen the demon."

Chapter 11

"It's where all this began," Willow said, her voice quiet and emotionless. Once she had calmed herself, with Tara's soothing help, Willow had had one of the guards fetch the master-at-arms. She had quickly explained how he should have the ritual sand and rune-stones disposed of, and advised that, with the Baron's approval, the books she had separated from the library should be sealed and locked in a safe place, and on no account read, until the Vizjerei could send a mission to investigate the betrayal of their comrade. She had maintained her calm well, but Tara could sense the tension in her, and when Willow held out her hand she gladly took it, and kept hold of it all the way back to the Amazon quarters. They had acknowledged the greetings of the various merchants who had already begun dinner, and Tara had collected enough food for both of them while Willow sought the solitude of Tara's bedroom. Now they sat on the bed, side-by side, Willow toying with her food and staring blankly at the opposite wall, Tara patiently waiting as she gathered her nerves.

"The Order has…had an arrangement with a hospice in Entsteig," Willow continued, "a big place thirty miles outside Gotunberg-Sallna. The Chancellor of the cities had it built after the Reckoning, to deal with all the refugees from Khanduras, a-and he brought alchemists and physicians and healers from everywhere he could. They said it was the biggest center of healing in all the Western Kingdoms. Fire sorcery is part healing, you know, replenishing the body's energy…we all learn a little of it, to keep from exhausting ourselves when we cast magic, but some fire sorceresses have the talent to use it to heal physical injuries. The Chancellor agreed to have the Zann Esu keep a presence in the hospice, to learn and teach healing, and also just to have some sorceresses around. Over the years the hospice's library grew until it was enormous – all the visiting doctors and healers would bring their own books, and they'd have scribes make new copies for the hospice…most of them were at least partly magical, and mages, even ones who didn't practice healing magic, would visit to study the books there. That's why they sent me and the others, five of us, even though Saria was the only one who used fire.

"It happened one night after five months studying there, with visiting mages and the sorceress elders who were assigned to the hospice permanently. Ember and the elders had gone to the cities for a council with the Chancellor, and most of the student physicians were at a conference…it was pretty empty. I always used to stay up late in the library, reading all sorts of things. During the day we were supervised, but at night I could read whatever I wanted, almost. I was always sleeping in because of it, I'd get back to our quarters at midnight and lie awake thinking about what I'd been reading…This night, we'd been talking amongst ourselves, the other girls and I, and then they'd gone to sleep. I couldn't get to sleep, so I went down to the library alone to read for a while.

"I got there and the door was locked – I didn't know why, unless the caretakers had closed it up, with so many of the students away for the night, but they usually left it open. I knocked, and looked for a caretaker, but I couldn't find anyone, so I waited for a little while, then I got up to leave. I was just walking out into the cloister, and…everything turned red for a second, like coals at the bottom of a fire, and then I blacked out…"

Willow came slowly and painfully back to awareness, conscious first of something sharp digging into her leg, then the cold of night air on her back. She opened her eyes and winced as for a second the dim light of torches and stars pierced her eyes like the sun. She felt a throbbing pain in her forehead, and when she touched the pain her skin felt sticky, and her fingers came back with blood on them. She struggled up to a sitting position, rubbing the painful bruise where her leg had come to rest on top of a jagged stone, and dabbed at the cut on her head, relieved to find that it was small, and had already stopped bleeding. Only then, dazed as she was, did she take stock of her surroundings.

The cloister had been shattered as if by an earthquake. Many of the stone arches had collapsed, fracturing the flagstones beneath them with huge chunks of masonry. The walls beyond were cracked, the stained-glass windows in them broken into tiny shards that littered the ground beneath their empty frames. Where Willow last remembered being, just beneath the northern archway, a heap of stone had fallen, and either she had run without remembering it, or some force had thrown her clear of it. She stared past it, seeing the huge wooden doors of the library hanging off their hinges. By the light of the few torches still burning in their brackets, and a few others that had fallen to the ground and not yet extinguished themselves, she could see just a little of the library itself, enough to see that the orderly rows of books had been tossed about by the same force that had shattered the cloister.

Leaning on a wall for support, glancing nervously around herself at the fractured stones and cracked roof beams, Willow made her way around the edge of the cloister to the library doorway. She slipped between the damaged doors, and stood dumbly in the doorway, gazing at the devastation that had been wrought inside. The entire roof of the library, with all its massive, immovable beams, had been torn away to reveal the stars – not collapsed, she realized, but flung outwards, for the debris scattered across the floor was only from the shelves and their contents. She took a few shaky steps forward, to where the glass dome had used to be, but there was no trace of it. She stared at the jagged tops of the walls, vaguely noticing the broken ends of wooden beams, twisted and torn upwards – it was as if a massive explosion had erupted from within the library itself, but she couldn't understand how a force great enough to blow away the entire roof could leave even a shred of paper within intact, let alone the scattered remains of a thousand books that covered the ground.

Willow somehow felt the sound before she heard it: a strange, purring growl from the darkened remains of the library's east wing, which had been the largest of the three. Images of wild animals flashed through her mind as she slowly turned, trembling and fighting the urge to run and hide. Her jaw dropped as the unlit torches, hanging from their brackets or cast to the floor, burst into life, flames leaping up from the blackened wood, starting on either side of her and continuing, two by two, down the length of the wing. When enough torches had sprung to life, when the creature there was finally revealed, Willow screamed, and her legs collapsed from underneath her. She wanted to flee, to close her eyes, to do anything, but her body wouldn't answer.

It was huge, fifteen feet tall, roughly female in form. Its skin was deathly pale and porcelain-smooth, decorated with runes cut into its flesh, the blood within glowing red and seeping out of the wounds as it moved. It had hooves instead of feet, but no hair around them like a horse or a goat, simply skin that bulged out around its ankles and split to reveal the masses of bone, each hoof covered in dozens of tiny metal spikes, driven into the bone. Its legs were slender, almost too thin to bear its body, yet it seemed to have all the strength it needed as it drew itself up to its full height. As Willow's eyes traveled up its body she saw bronze rings driven through the flesh of its thighs, each one adorned with a glistening wet tag – human tongues, she realized, feeling her stomach lurch. Then her eyes moved again, and saw that the pale, rotting thing covering its crotch was the skin of a human face, eyes and mouth stitched shut, supported by the remaining strands of its scalp, which were stretched over metal hooks protruding from the creature's prominent hips.

Willow felt the bile rise in her throat, but she fought against it, terrified of what she saw, yet even more afraid to look away, even for an instant. The torches around it burned brighter, lighting its torso so she could see, at the center of its impossibly thin stomach, a glistening wet horn protruding from its navel. Two more, thin and vicious, jutted out from bloody wounds in the center of each of its heavy breasts, which were decorated with rings bearing chains and scraps of flesh. An open wound ran from its cleavage, up the length of its neck, splitting the lower of its lips. From the bridge of its nose ran a series of horns, growing in length and width as they reached up its forehead and over its scalp. Its hair was jet black, long enough to reach its waist, but it floated as if the creature was underwater, streaming behind it when it moved. Then Willow saw its eyes, and forgot everything else – they were blood-red, as if the sockets were filled with the fumes of hell's fires, and tiny tendrils of crimson vapor crept from them, teasing around its brows – pierced with metal nails and rings – before dissipating in the night air. The eyes carried such malice, such hatred for purity and innocence, that Willow thought she had stared into hell itself.

It held Willow's gaze for a long time – how long, she didn't even know, just that every passing second felt like her soul was being damned a thousand times – then it raised a hand and pointed a long, thin finger at her. It was only then, when its hand rose between Willow's gaze and its eyes, that the spell was broken. Willow noticed a limp shape clutched in its other claw – the body of a robed man, too torn and bloodied to be identified further. Her eyes kept sliding back to the talon it pointed at her, as she waited for the thing to make its move.

"You," it said, in a soft, breathy voice, "come here…"

All Willow could do was shake her head. No force in the world could have made her move an inch towards the terrible sight in front of her. The monster reared back, dropping its hand, then in a flash of movement dashed the corpse in its other hand against the wall, smashing its head to a pulp against the stone. It leaned forward and let out a bellow of rage, its split lower lip parting, either side of its jaw stretching out so that its maw gaped open wide enough to swallow a man whole. Willow had a glimpse of rows of serrated teeth, then the mouth snapped shut, with a ragged spurt of blood from the wound down its neck as it closed. It lifted a leg and slammed down its hoof, cracking the stone beneath it. With the sound of a thunderstorm it crashed towards Willow.

Willow's primal survival instinct overruled the terror gripping her mind, and she leapt to her feet, the shimmering mist of a chill armor forming around her even as the creature reached out a wickedly-clawed hand to grasp her. It bellowed in rage as its fingers came into contact with the tightly-controlled mist, drawing back its hand. It spread its arms wide, and the thin horns protruding from its breasts and stomach stirred, then leapt out at Willow, supported by thin, bloody steel chains that whipped out of the creature's body. The horns each split into three parts, like tiny claws, then they slammed themselves against Willow's armor, sending her flying backwards. The spell absorbed most of the shock of her landing, but the effort shattered its energies, and Willow staggered to her feet, defenseless, as the monster bore down on her, its clawed chains writhing in the air in front of it, reaching out towards her.

"Come now, little one," it sighed, "not hurt…help, yes, much power, much pleasure…play with flesh, yes?"

From some inner place of calm, Willow drew the conclusion that she had a single chance to save herself: one casting, which would either drive the creature away from her, or else fail and leave her to its mercy. She couldn't cast another armor, not so quickly, and in any case it wouldn't last longer than the first. She could create shards of ice, to try to wound it, but she doubted whether she could hurt it enough to keep it away from her. Once it reached her, and hurt her badly, she wouldn't be able to concentrate properly, and it could do as it pleased.

Desperation drove away the warnings that had been drummed into Willow by her Zann Esu tutors. She raised her hand, as if to ward off the creature's blows, and spoke words she had never used before, but had studied their pronunciation until she knew them by heart. She felt something inside her tug at her body, almost dragging her a step forward, but the monster was drawing up in shock, its burning eyes darting around in confusion. Willow steeled herself and continued the incantation, feeling the power flow out of her, forcing herself to stare at the hellish thing's eyes as she spoke the ancient rite of banishment.

The creature's chains retracted back into its body, leaving trails of blood beneath the bone claws in its flesh, which flexed like the beaks of hungry birds. It raised its arms, pushing on either side of itself as if encased in an invisible prison, one that was slowly shrinking around it. For a moment, a brief, triumphant moment, Willow saw something like fear in its inhuman eyes. But then it met her stare, and she recoiled as she felt something flow back along the bridge of power between them.

The monster's power was like an oil slick, viscous and slimy, crawling across her skin and making her feel like she would never be clean again. She staggered back from the shock of it, then redoubled her efforts, forcing her own energy back towards its target. Pitting her will against the monster's unfathomable mind, she hammered against its power, strengthening the bonds holding it, marshalling all her strength for one last strike against the unearthly energy keeping its body intact on the mortal plane. The creature actually fell back a step, then roared again through its gaping jaws. Willow could feel its power near her, just barely held at bay by the spell she was weaving around it, could feel the lances of energy it tried to send through the conduit between them, which if they landed would wrack her body with pain, collapsing the spell in a second. She gritted her teeth, ignoring the sweat trickling into her eyes, and fought for her life.

"I-I was losing," Willow admitted. "I put everything I had into banishing it, but it wasn't enough. It kept pushing back, a-and I could feel the walls around it weakening, and the power from it getting closer to me. It was getting stronger, it was…like it was feeding off the energy, because I wasn't strong enough to shut it out."

Tara silently reached out and took Willow's hand, holding it gently and stroking the back of her hand with her thumb. Willow took a deep breath, which shuddered in her throat, and blinked away the tears that had started to form in her eyes.

"I was sure I was going to die," she went on. "A-and I wasn't frightened, I was ashamed…I hadn't kept my magic pure, the way the Zann Esu taught me. I'd tried to be a hero, and because of that it was going to take all my power…if I'd just stuck to my elementals, it could only have killed me, it wouldn't have been able to reach inside me. B-but now it could, a-and it was my fault…I was afraid for all the people it would hurt, because of the power I gave it.

"Then something hit it, and I got tossed away. I hit my head, and everything was spinning for a moment, and it hurt like hell. The pain snapped me back to thinking, and I looked up and saw the thing being bombarded by ice bolts, fireballs, lightning, the whole works. While I'd been unconscious in the cloister, everyone in the hospice who hadn't been killed by collapsing ceilings and walls had got out, and gone into the city to get help. Ember knew I was still alive, she could sense it, a-and she sensed the creature as well. She and the other elders had to blast their way through the ruins to get to the library, and they got there just in time to save me. I think…another second, and the thing would've had me.

"I just scrambled further away from it, and watched it try to fight back. It really didn't have a chance…Ember and the others were so powerful, a-and it had only just been summoned, and it hadn't quite broken the banishment I put around it before they started hitting it. The flagstones at its feet were actually melting from the heat of the fire Ember was pouring into it, and the air around it was almost crystallizing from Cyan and Prospera freezing it. A-and Symphony, she had chains made of lightning wrapped around it, spinning so fast, and they were tearing it up like barbed wire. It was bleeding so much…"

She glanced at Tara, and her face softened from the stony calm she had taken on.

"It doesn't matter," she said, "trust me, you don't want to know. It was the most horrible thing I've ever seen, that about covers it. A-and then there was this deafening crack, and I felt what was left of the banishment spell lurch…it actually pulled be forward for a second. Then it was gone. Even the blood, it all vanished in an instant. Ember and the others had weakened it so much that the spell finally worked, and…that was it."

"That was the demon Hydris was trying to summon?" Tara asked quietly. Willow nodded.

"I think so…I mean, I'm still not sure exactly what he was doing, summoning or maybe just communicating, it's hard to tell. The rune said 'Khalsu', which is what the old Vizjerei clansmen called it. When the Horadrim wrote the Book of Foes, which we still use, they called it Shadai. It was weak when I saw it…it's such a strong demon, the mage who summoned it had to put all his power into just bringing it here, there must've been almost nothing left to make its body strong. Which is what I almost gave it," she added with a scowl.

"Hey," Tara said gently, "you banished it, in the end."

"No, it- I mean, yes," Willow admitted, "it was the banishing spell, but it didn't matter. A few more seconds of fire and ice and chain lightning and it would've been wrecked, and forced back to hell anyway. All I did was give it a chance at becoming stronger, a-and it was just luck that it didn't get it."

Tara saw Willow's shoulders slump, and couldn't think of anything but finding a way to bring back the sparkle that had been in her eyes earlier in the day. She leant beside her, put both arms around her waist, and rested her head on Willow's shoulder, gently nuzzling the base of her neck.

"You survived," she whispered, "and however it happened, you won. That's all that matters now. You're here." She felt Willow's hair tickling her face, as Willow leant her head on top of Tara's.

"After it happened, when we were going back to the Church, for a while I wished I had stuck to my cold magic, and died." Willow put an arm around Tara, hugging her gently, and with her other hand stroked the arm around her own waist.

"I was so afraid of what I'd almost let happen," she admitted, "but Ember helped me. You know, she said almost exactly what you did? She said all that mattered was that it had turned out okay, and I had survived. She told me to learn from my mistake, not to retreat from it. I had the choice of just staying in the Church, where I'd be safe, a-and there'd always be elders to keep me from making another mistake. Ember convinced me to stand before the Council, to ask for their judgment so I could continue as a sorceress. And they sent me here. I-I'm so glad they did, now. I don't want to be anywhere but here."

Tara hugged Willow tighter and closed her eyes, feeling the woman in her arms relax. She was aware, in a distant sort of way, of the warmth that spread through her at Willow's touch, but she had no desire at the moment but to hold her, comfort her and chase away the fears that ailed her.

"Tomorrow I'll talk to the Baron," Willow said eventually, "tell him what we found in Hydris's rooms."

"Tomorrow," said Tara firmly. Willow tightened her hug for a moment, then reluctantly stood up and straightened her skirt.

"I should…you make me feel so much better, you know?" she asked rhetorically. "You're beautiful…" She trailed off, staring wistfully at Tara for a few seconds before she seemed to snap out of it and become flustered. Tara blushed, and smiled when she noticed Willow doing the same. Willow nervously played with the edge of her skirt.

"Um, it's late, I should go get some sleep…" she said hesitantly. As Tara stood up from the bed, Willow was already reaching for her staff, propped in a corner against Silverstrike.

"Stay?" Tara said, surprising herself. Willow looked back at her with an odd mixture of hope and anxiety. "I-I mean," Tara went on, "if you w-want…y-you don't have to go. I-it's been a tough day, a-and you don't need to be alone…and I'd like it…if y-you stayed… please?"

Willow's eyes glistened with moisture. She sniffed back a sob, then nodded once, quickly, swallowing her tears. Tara went to her and enveloped her in a chaste embrace, the one hand around her body still, the other softly stroking her hair. Willow buried her face in Tara's shoulder, drawing deep, sighing breaths, but she didn't cry. Tara gently led her back to the bed and sat her down without letting go. Willow finally raised her head and looked at Tara.

"I-" she began, then hesitated. But the sweet smile on her lips was all the gratitude Tara needed. She ran her fingers through Willow's hair one last time, then got back up.

"Tara?" Willow asked, looking anxious.

"I'll just take the plates outside," Tara replied, "I'll change in one of the spare rooms…give you some privacy. I-I'll be back in a few minutes. Um, if you want something to sleep in, feel free." She gestured towards the small trunk in the corner she had filled with her spare clothes. Willow nodded, and Tara quickly gathered their plates, balanced them in one hand while she found a slip and robe, then cast a reassuring smile back at Willow as she opened the door a fraction and went out.

Willow took a deep breath, then stood up and looked in the trunk for something suitable. She was amazed at how Tara made her feel safe, and warm, and content – as if something inside her wouldn't let her be at peace, unless Tara was there. She hadn't meant to go on about the demon at such length or in such detail, and she hoped Tara would be able to put the grisly spectacle of it out of her mind, but…once she had started talking, the whole story just seemed to flow out of her. She had never spoken about it very much, to anyone – Ember had been there, seen what she had seen, and had needed to ask only a few questions to fill in the details she didn't know of that night's events. Willow hadn't wanted to talk about it then, and Ember had respected that. The Council had been informed of what happened by the various elders, Ember included. Willow remembered the hollow feeling she had experienced when she had to sit down with one of the Council's scribes, to make sure the official account of the incident included all the details she could remember. She had had to mention one or two things, but other than that she had remained silent, as the scribe read from his scroll, in an efficient, emotionless tone, the account of the event that had scarred Willow's mind. Particularly in the first weeks, but even now, she had nightmares about the library, and the demon's burning, hating eyes. She had never talked to anyone about it. Until now. It felt good.

She turned over the edges of a couple of folded bundles, looking for nightwear. A thin cotton slip seemed appropriate, but then the corner of something dark and smooth caught her eye. She uncovered the garment and held it up, letting out a slow breath as she did. It was a silk robe, a lustrous black, and so smooth it was a pleasure to hold. As Willow held it up, she saw that it was cut almost high enough to be considered a shirt – she held it against herself, and it was short of the middle of her thighs. She wondered what in the world an Amazon warrior was doing with something like this – 'Well, wearing it, probably,' she thought back at herself. She looked in the mirror and pictured Tara wearing the short robe, with the thin sash looped around her waist, and the neckline invitingly open. 'Okay, calm down,' she told herself, 'she asked you to stay because you're upset, not because she wants to play dress-up. Or dress down, even.' Willow couldn't help grinning. She put the robe back in the trunk, and laid the cotton slip out on the bed, ready to wear.

She tore her attention away from the robe and realized Tara would be back any moment. She took off her skirt and folded it neatly with practiced ease, then kicked off her boots and undid her belt, checking to make sure all its tiny pouches were securely sealed. Her tunic followed, and the bra underneath it, which she folded and put beneath her skirt, feeling somewhat shy about having items of her underwear lying around Tara's room in plain view. She was just straightening up when she caught sight of herself in the mirror again. 'Oh gods,' she thought suddenly, 'I'm nearly naked! In her room! I'm about to sleep next to her, in the same bed, what do I do? Do I just go to sleep beside her, or can I give her a kiss goodnight- Do I snore? I hope I don't snore, I don't want to wake her- No, wait, we slept next to each other in the caravan, and she didn't wake up. Okay, calm down…' She took a few deep breaths, then noticed her chest moving up and down as she did so, and had another attack of nerves. 'I mean, I know this is really an emotional-support sleeping arrangement, but it's not like we're just friends…gods, she sent me wild all afternoon, and if that guard hadn't interrupted I don't know what would've happened…Hey, stop thinking about that!' she chastised herself, glaring at her reflection. 'I wonder if she'll want to snuggle…do Amazons kiss goodnight? Please let Amazons kiss goodnight…'

Willow jumped as a knock on the door pierced the silence of her runaway thoughts.

"Willow?" came Tara's voice. Willow flung on her nightwear, and had already called out "Come in" to Tara when she realized she had tossed the slip back in the trunk, and wrapped herself in Tara's silk robe. 'Okay, that can't have been purely accidental,' she thought with the part of her brain that wasn't panicking.

Tara was wearing a long crimson robe, buttoned once at the waist, revealing a white top underneath it. Willow thought it was beautifully elegant, the way the folds of the robe swished around her legs as she moved, and she melted at the cute way Tara's toed peeked out from beneath it when she stepped forward. Tara closed the door behind her, then looked at Willow properly for the first time. Despite her anxiety, Willow was pleased by the way Tara's eyes widened, a blush crept over her cheeks, and the hint of a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.

"You look beautiful," Tara said softly, with complete sincerity in her voice.

"I just- you know, first thing I grabbed," Willow said quickly, trying not to shiver. Half of her wanted to get under cover of the sheets as quickly as possible, the other half had noticed the way Tara's eyes had quickly run up the length of her body when she first saw Willow, and was in heaven at the thought of Tara seeing her like this. She compromised by sitting down on the edge of the bed, almost missing in her nervousness and ending up perched just barely on the edge of it, with one leg thrust out sideways to keep her balance. She saw Tara's eyes fix on her exposed thigh for a second, and her thoughts grew even more erratic.

"Um, th-there's more blankets," Tara said shyly, motioning towards the wardrobe in the corner, "I th-think it's going to be a cold night… I-I'll get some." She busied herself pulling folded blankets down off the high shelf within the wardrobe, giving Willow a few seconds to get control of herself and slip her legs beneath the sheets. When Tara came back, spreading several blankets out over the bed, Willow was sitting up against the headboard, looking calmer than she felt.

"Tara," she said, getting Tara's attention just as she had finished with the blankets. Tara sat on the edge of the bed next to her, smiling into her eyes. Willow noticed the way her hands fidgeted slightly in her lap, and was profoundly relieved that she wasn't the only one feeling nervous.

"Um, thanks for letting me stay," she said, "I really…I feel safe with you," she blurted out before she had a chance to reconsider. Tara smiled, and looked away for a moment.

"I-I'd do anything for you," she confessed. She looked back at Willow, just quickly at first, her eyes darting away again, then back, and holding her gaze longer. Willow felt a lump in her throat, and couldn't find the words to express what she felt.

"I'm so glad I met you," Willow whispered, wanting to say so much more, but not knowing how. Tara leaned over to her and kissed her, gently and perfectly. Her lips were open just a fraction, just enough to make it more than a simple kiss, but there was no need for any movement, or frenzied passion.

"M-me too," Tara said as she leant back a fraction. Willow felt the words breathed across her lips. Tara got back up and started to put out the candles around the room, while Willow wriggled down lower into the bed. Tara cast her a fond smile just before she blew out the last candle, and then the room was all shades of icy blue, from the moonlight filtering through the clouds outside.

Willow watched as Tara, a half-visible silhouette in the darkness, moved towards the window to close the shutters. She stopped half-way, though, and Willow wondered if it was her imagination, or if a glitter around Tara's eyes was her glancing again at her, and if the slight reflection on her lips was a smile. She took one more step, and Willow's eyes fixed on her as a shaft of moonlight from the window lit her, outlining the gentle folds of her robe. Seemingly oblivious to Willow's stare, Tara unbuttoned the robe and slipped it from her shoulders, letting it fall down her arms, and finally free of her hands so that it crumpled to the floor with a silken sigh. Willow gaped, glad of the shadows to conceal her reaction. The white top Tara was wearing was cut high, allowing Willow an unobstructed view of her waist and stomach, which she thought so smooth as to make the silk robe seem like coarse hessian. A pair of white briefs completed the outfit, and in the pale moonlight the edges of the fabric seemed only to accentuate the curve of her hips and bottom, which Willow, in a moment of unusual lewdness that almost made her giggle at herself, wanted to cup in her hands and squeeze. Tara reached for the levers that would pull the shutters closed, and suddenly Willow's attention wasn't on her rear at all, but the gap between her abdomen and the material of her top, which when she leant forward widened enough that Willow could see the slightest curve of the underside of her breasts, swaying gently as she moved. 'More lewd thoughts,' Willow commented silently to herself.

The shutters closed, and the room was plunged into near-total darkness. Willow was suddenly aware that she was breathing heavily, and willed herself to relax. She heard Tara's feet pad softly across the floor, then heard and felt the blankets pull back as she slipped into her side of the bed. Willow rolled onto her side and wriggled over slightly, until she felt the slight aura of warmth of Tara's body, and could feel by the way the blankets were held up that there was barely inches between them. She jumped slightly when she felt Tara's hand on her shoulder.

"Sorry," Tara whispered.

"No, I'm fine," Willow reassured her, "it's just I couldn't see you."

"Night vision," Tara said, "it takes a lot of training."

"You can see me?" Willow asked. "How many fingers am I holding up?"

"None," Tara said promptly.

"How'd you do that?"

"I didn't hear you move your hand," she explained, earning a chuckle. "I can see just a little. Shapes, outlines…Outside it'd be enough to get by on, if the moon was behind clouds."

"Speaking of moonlight," Willow whispered, "just now, you looked so lovely…I'm sorry I can't see in the dark now." She imagined Tara's blush, and heard the hesitancy in her voice that confirmed it when she spoke again. She found it very enticing that Tara could be so shy and so bold at the same time.

"Th-thank you," Tara said. "I-I thought, maybe…i-if you weren't too, you know, upset by telling me what happened…maybe you'd appreciate a little distraction…"

"Oh, I do," Willow said, smiling and wondering if Tara could see it, "I'm…I never told anyone the whole story before. I feel better now. Um, it's not going to give you nightmares, is it?"

"No," Tara promised, "no nightmares."

"Good," Willow said, "because I wouldn't want you having bad dreams because of me." She felt the distance between them close, then Tara's hair was brushing against her face, and her hand was cupping her cheek tenderly.

"I think I'll have good dreams because of you," she purred. "Do you feel better?"

"Absolutely," Willow breathed.

"Turn over," Tara said gently. Willow complied, wondering what she had in mind, then sighed as she felt Tara shift herself closer, the length of her body warm against Willow's back. Tara's arm rested leisurely over her waist, holding her just firmly enough to be comfortable. Tara curled her legs beneath Willow's, and Willow breathed in as she felt every inch of her thighs, and her bottom and half her lower back, suddenly in direct physical contact with the most angelic woman she had ever known. She hadn't realized the robe she was wearing had ridden up as she had wriggled under the blankets, but now she was burningly aware that, from her waist down, she was just as scantily clad as Tara. She hoped Tara was as blissfully content as she was.

Tara stroked her fingers across Willow's stomach briefly, then leant a little closer to kiss the back of her neck.

"Sweet dreams, Willow," she whispered.

"Mmm, you too," was all Willow could manage in reply. She felt the tension of the evening melt away, and let herself get lost in the warmth of Tara's embrace, and the darkness of sleep.

Chapter 12

Willow woke slowly, for the first time since the destruction of the hospice. She opened one eye and was surprised to see the morning sun already lighting the slits in the shutters. She couldn't remember waking once during the night, and even in the troubled dreams she had grown accustomed to – imp-like demons jumping out of books at her, it had been this time – she vaguely recalled feeling detached from the jumbled images and sounds, as if she knew that it wasn't really happening. She could hazard a fair guess why – Tara was still lying against her, with one arm draped over her, holding her almost protectively.

Willow's other eye opened, and both eyebrows rose, as she noticed exactly where Tara was holding her. Some time during the night she must have shifted position, her hold had become tighter, and the hand that had been hovering about her waist had crept higher and was now cupping her right breast, through the material of her robe which felt thin as air at the moment. Willow's heart hammered in her chest, so hard that she wondered how Tara wasn't woken by it – it was right beneath her palm, after all. She wondered also how she could have woken up without instantly realizing how she was being held. Even if it was unconscious on Tara's part, Willow wanted to enjoy every second of it.

She smiled to herself, not wanting to disturb Tara's sleep – or make her move in any way, she admitted. She luxuriated for a while in the heat coming off Tara's hand, and indulged a few fantasies of the fingers lightly covering her breast closing and squeezing. She remembered how Tara's fingers had pressed into her thighs the day before, in the library, and her sleepy imagination showed her herself being molded by Tara's hands, like a sculpture in clay, with Tara leaving fingerprints embedded in her thighs, her back, her breasts, her bottom, her- Willow had to admit she wasn't quite ready to go there. No-one else had ever touched her there, and Willow knew she needed time to absorb the reality of their mutual attraction – she was almost sure enough to call it love – so that she wouldn't be a flighty bundle of nerves when the time came. 'Well, not all a bundle of nerves…nothing wrong with that in its proper place.' She grinned at herself, and then the humor in her smile was replaced by warm contentment, as she recalled the previous night, and how Tara had seemed to know what she needed. Physical contact, a feeling of safety, the freedom to be vulnerable, tenderness, and stimulation. The fleeting glimpse of Tara she had seen was a release, in a way, for she realized Tara had shown her not just herself, but a glimpse of things to come – she grinned again at the phrase – and though she was only now realizing it, the relaxed state she had achieved owed as much to Tara's teasing as it did to her softly-spoken words and gentle embrace. 'I know you want me,' Tara had been telling her, with her actions, 'and I want you too. Now you're tired and afraid, so you should wait, and I promise I'll wait with you.' Willow closed her eyes and sighed happily – she would have to thank Tara for understanding, and making sure their first time was perfect in every way. Briefly she imagined the feelings she had when she had sought release by herself – by way of experimentation, or to relieve the tension that sometimes grew in her – and her mind's eye began to substitute Tara's hand for her own, her palm cupping Willow's mound, her fingers gently circling her clit, or brushing through the folds of her sex- she shut the thought down before it got out of control. For now, she was content to feel Tara's body against hers, and look forward to the time when she would do more than imagine.

Tara stirred in her sleep, and mumbled to herself. Her hand flexed slightly, then closed again, as Tara unconsciously adjusted its position to get a better grip. Willow, still half-submerged in her own private musings, gasped in surprise and delight, and before she realized she was doing it her back was arched, pressing her breast into Tara's hand.

"Mmm," she heard Tara purr, just before her thumb inched inwards a fraction and snuck underneath her palm to stroke over Willow's nipple, which was straining against the fabric of her robe. Willow thus felt every tiny instant of Tara's touch as fully as possible, and the effort it took not to make a sound caused her to press her thighs tightly together and wriggle her hips. She felt a pleasurable shiver creep over her skin, and a distinct warmth grew between her legs – 'Gods, is there no stopping me?' she wondered – but despite keeping her mouth clamped shut, she sensed Tara's sleep fading. She held as still as she could, suddenly afraid to look as if she was enjoying Tara's touch too much – she had been asleep, Willow reasoned, maybe she'd be embarrassed.

"Mmmhey," Tara said in a voice thick with sleep, her lips tickling the nape of Willow's neck.

"Hey," Willow echoed.

"Sleep well?" Tara asked.

"Best sleep in ages," said Willow cheerfully. "You?"

"Yep," Tara said with a yawn, "I-I had good dreams."

"I noticed," Willow said, stroking the back of Tara's hand. Tara froze solid for a second, then jerked her hand away and rolled onto her back. Willow quickly rolled over, tangling the blankets between them and ending up half on-top of Tara.

"I-I'm sorry," Tara said, her face turning red, "I-I d-didn't realize…I must've…wh-while I was asleep-"

"Hey," Willow interrupted her, "it's not a problem!"

"'Cause you know I'd never- I mean, without asking," Tara went on.

"Tara," Willow said, getting her attention, "it's fine. It's more than fine! I promise you," she leant forward and brushed her lips lightly over Tara's, "you can touch me anywhere you want…"

Tara let out a slow breath, tickling Willow's lips, as her hands crept around her waist. Willow closed her eyes as Tara kissed her, reveling in the softness of her lips, the way she lifted her head off the pillows, pressing their mouths together, only to lie back a moment later, maintaining the most feather-light contact as her tongue teased Willow's lips. 'How does she do that?' Willow wondered to herself, letting her jaw open for Tara as she recaptured Willow's lips fully, 'how is she so shy and tentative that I want to hold her and kiss her forever, and then so bold that I can barely stop from ripping my clothes off for her?' She imagined just that, and moaned out loud into Tara's mouth, her hands busily wrenching away the tangled blankets between them.

She felt Tara's hands firm against her back – her naked back, she realized, her robe had ridden up so far that it covered only her chest and shoulders. She arched her back, feeling her stomach naked against Tara's, and her lips curled into a smile, still open a fraction to continue the ongoing kiss that she had no intention of ending prematurely. For a moment Tara's lips were still, and when Willow opened her eyes she saw Tara staring at her as if in wonder. Then she squealed in surprise and delight as Tara rose up beneath her, gathering Willow up with the strength that had surprised her yesterday and rolling her effortlessly onto her back. Willow's eyes widened as she took in her new position, lying beneath Tara, who straddled her hips on her knees as she leant down to kiss her fiercely, almost possessively.

'Ah, there's my bold Tara,' Willow thought gleefully, as Tara's kisses moved from her lips down to her neck, which she teased and tickled with her soft lips. Willow let out a sigh that became a high-pitched moan as she felt Tara's tongue press firmly against her skin, trailing all the way from her neck up to the pliant skin beneath her chin. Tara lifted herself up off Willow a fraction and stared into her eyes. Willow imagined what she must look like, wide-eyed, rapid breathing, flushed cheeks and wet lips.

"Anywhere?" Tara asked in a sultry whisper. Willow's breath caught in her throat. Was she suggesting…? She hadn't thought Tara would be so ambitious so soon, and she had to admit she was caught by surprise. But was the fact that she was surprised enough to warrant asking Tara to take it slowly, if she wanted to move things along a little faster? Willow knew the answer to that, and nodded once, quickly. Tara smiled and kissed her again, on the lips for a moment, then ducking down to one side to suck her earlobe, and run the tip of her tongue around the edge of her ear, making Willow shiver and whimper in delight. Tara pulled back again. Willow noticed with a start that she could feel Tara's breasts touching hers through their nightwear – she could only imagine what a luscious sight they would be, Tara's ample, perfect breasts hanging down as she held herself just high enough that they swayed slightly against Willow. She had to imagine, because she couldn't tear her eyes away from Tara's.

"Even…" Tara began, and trailed off, watching Willow's reaction. Willow tried to breath steadily, but it seemed she was rapidly losing control of her own body.

"Even…in front of the Baron and all his noblemen?" Tara asked. Willow's eyebrows collided in an expression of pure confusion.

"Wha?" she asked incoherently.

"You did say 'anywhere'," Tara replied with a perfectly straight face. Willow stared at her for a second, her mind trying to regain a grip on things, then she abruptly burst out laughing. Tara joined her, alternately laughing and kissing Willow, until they had both regained some semblance of composure.

"You're a sly, cunning, vixen-y tease," Willow murmured, when they had finally calmed down, and Tara was resting on top of her, her face nestled into the side of Willow's neck.

"I can't help it," Tara said – she didn't bother moving back, so Willow felt her lips move against her skin – "you're so much fun to tease." Willow chuckled to herself. A small part of her regretted the pause in their passion, but she realized that it was for the best. She loved the feeling of abandoning her senses that she got when she and Tara kissed, but sooner or later they would reach a point where neither of them would be capable of restraining themselves, and Willow wanted that to be at a time when they both wholly wanted to go further. Apparently, she mused, Tara agreed. Lying here, relaxed, with Tara's body comfortingly resting on top of her, Willow felt closer to her than she ever had.

'I love her,' Willow thought. It wasn't a new realization, so much as confirmation, a decree that Willow now accepted, and set in stone in her mind. She loved Tara's kindness, her gentle nature, her fascination with the world and its ways, her boundless patience; she loved the way Tara understood her, without words, the way she was always exactly what Willow needed, whether it be a friendly ear, a shoulder to cry on, a joyful companion or a passionate woman with an inexhaustible hunger for Willow; she loved her spirit, which her tutors in the Zann Esu would have described as a healer's, someone who does what she can to make the people around her whole, for no reason other than that their happiness gives her a contentment that no selfish pursuit could encompass; and she loved the warrior that she knew lived in Tara, despite Tara's own doubts on the matter, the fierce heart that she kept so well in check, that only emerged in the heat of passion. Just the thought of the untamed, sexual hunger she held within her soul made Willow want nothing more than to give herself to Tara completely, to hold nothing back from her, deny her nothing.

"What're you thinking about?" Tara purred at her side.

"You," Willow murmured.

"What about me?"

"You're perfect," Willow said quietly.

"Mmm, no I'm not," Tara said lazily.

"Yes you are," Willow insisted, "you're beautiful and funny and wise, and…"

"I'm not much of a warrior," Tara said.

"You're exactly as much of a warrior as I need," Willow replied. "You're kind, and sexy and-"

"Y-you think I'm sexy?" Tara asked.

"Why do you think you got a sorceress wrapped around you yesterday?"

"Y-you fell off the ladder," Tara reminded her.

"And did I complain?" Willow countered. "Let's see, sexy, and passionate, and-"

"I'm pretty sure I snore," Tara said.

"I like your snoring, it's cute," Willow said, "will you give up? You're perfect because I say so."

"You don't have to say that," Tara said quietly, propping herself up on one elbow to look at Willow.

"Hey, come on," Willow said gently, "it's true. I'm not pretending you're some sort of supergirl, or something impossible…you're… if I'd ever had dreams this good, you're everything I'd have dreamed you'd be." Tara swallowed, and her eyes were suddenly glistening with tears.

"Oh Willow," she breathed, "I don't know what to say…I… no-one's ever said anything like that to me before." Willow carefully rolled Tara off of her, so that they ended up side by side, arms around each other's waists. She kissed the warm tears off Tara's cheeks, slightly worried to see her crying, but reassured by the brilliant smile on her lips.

"You feel better?" she asked. Tara nodded.

"I-I feel…blessed," she said quietly. Willow beamed.

"Then that's how I'm gonna make you feel every day," Willow promised.

"You already do," Tara admitted, "you always have." Now it was Willow's turn to feel her eyes filling with tears. She blinked them away and kissed Tara firmly on the lips, savoring the taste of her mouth. Tara responded, unhurried and without frenzy, but with a quiet passion that made Willow tremble. She imagined she could detect a faint taste of the fiery, lusty Tara, biding her time, waiting for her moment. When she finally let their lips part, after a momentary hesitation while Tara's mouth closed around Willow's lip and sucked it with agonizing sweetness, Willow hugged her tightly and kissed Tara's neck, then pressed her face against the warmth of Tara's skin and breathed the scent of her hair, spread across the pillow like golden silk.

"Hey, wait a minute," she said suddenly, "how come no-one ever said nice things to you?"

"Oh, no," Tara said, "I didn't mean it like that…just, no-one's ever cared for me and, and wanted me, the way you do, a-as much as you do. B-but plenty of people at home used to tell me I was kind, and gentle. And a few times, when we wore ceremonial dress, I overheard some of the, um, more forward girls making…appreciative comments, when they thought I couldn't hear them."

"Oh they did, did they?" Willow teased. "So, do I have to worry about some Amazon warrior back home who won't like me making a move on her girl?" She was joking, but a tiny part of Willow pleaded to be reassured that Tara was hers alone, that there wasn't some part of Tara she couldn't reach, and couldn't give herself to. Tara must have sensed it, because she leant back a fraction, enough to look Willow in the eye as her hand held her cheek, gently brushing her skin with her thumb.

"There's never been anyone but you," she said. "No-one else has ever touched me the way you have…a-and," her voice dropped to a whisper, "when we're ready…wh-when it's time…I-I don't want anyone but you to ever touch me the way you will."

Willow was utterly speechless. She honestly didn't know whether to be flattered, or aroused, or gratified, or what. All she could think of was 'I am in love'. She almost said it – in truth, the only thing that held her back was the irrational fear that, if she were to acknowledge this perfect dream, it would vanish and she'd wake up to find the world as it had been before Tara, before every moment, even those they spent apart, felt better because Tara existed. She recognized how ludicrous that fear was, and set her mind to dispelling it as promptly as she could. She knew she could – when she told Tara she loved her, it would be with all her heart, without even the tiniest trace of doubt or irrational anxiety. She would be perfect, for Tara. And, gods-dammit, she would be it soon.

"What about you?" Tara asked. "Any fellow sorceresses waiting for you to return?" She made no effort to hide her playful, teasing smile from Willow, who decided Tara shouldn't have a monopoly on teasing.

"Oh, I'm sure they'll get along without me," she said airily. "One less pair of hands in the big sorceress grope-fests, who'll notice?" Tara laughed out loud.

"You're the first," Willow admitted quietly, when Tara looked at her again. "I…I never felt this way until you." Tara suddenly couldn't meet her stare, her eyes darting away to glance at Willow's lips, and hair, and her own hand still stroking Willow's cheek.

"I h-hope I'm worthy of you," she said shyly. Willow covered Tara's hand with her own, and ducked a little, catching Tara's downcast eyes.

"You so are," she promised, "every minute…the way you make me feel, it isn't something you have to, to work for. It's a gift, that you give me." Tara smiled a little.

"Th-this is so new," she said, "I-I feel like…like I have to earn this."

"You do," Willow assured her, "by being…you, by being Tara." Tara smiled, and her mouth opened as if she was trying to think of something to say, but couldn't.

"You say the sweetest things," she murmured eventually. Willow grinned and kissed her, just briefly. Tara sighed.

"Unfortunately," she went on, "being me means I have to get up. Amazon stuff to do…" Willow let out a heartfelt groan and let her head flop down onto the pillow.

"Me too," she said wryly, "I need to tell the Baron what we found yesterday."

"Do you want me to come with you?" Tara asked. "I-I could find some time, between meetings-"

"I'll be fine," Willow promised her. "You do your Amazon stuff, and I'll do my sorceress stuff, and we'll be back together at the dinner."

"You remembered," Tara observed.

"As if I'd forget a date with you," Willow smiled. Tara kissed the tip of her nose, then reluctantly lifted the blankets on her side of the bed and got up. Willow's eyes followed her around the room as she picked up her long robe from the floor where she had dropped it, draped it over the back of a chair, and ran her fingers through her hair, straightening out a few tangles. In the strong morning sun peeking through the shutters, Willow took a good, long look at Tara, barely dressed in the sleepwear she had glimpsed the night before. At first, she was fascinated by Tara's legs – not too thin, not too muscled, with exactly the right kind of curves along her thighs and calves. Then Willow's eyes moved up to Tara's bottom, neatly clad in her briefs, which were skimpier than Willow had realized by moonlight. Willow's heart rate increased markedly as Tara bent over to peer at herself in the mirror, unconsciously displaying her rear to Willow in a most enticing manner. Willow imagined taking hold of her cheeks, squeezing them, lazily trailing her fingers down the cleft between them, dragging down the thin underwear…'Look at me,' she mused to herself, 'getting all turned on just by staring at a girl's butt. I'm turning into a man.' She noticed Tara's eyes, in the mirror, had settled on her.

"Enjoying the view?" Tara asked with a smile.

"Well, you know," Willow said hastily, "I've got a whole day to get through. So, I was thinking, best to make sure I get a good look while I can."

"Aren't you worried you're going to be distracted all day?" Tara asked, mock-serious.

"Oh, no," Willow grinned back at her, "I'll have plenty to keep me occupied."

"Oh, okay then." Willow was surprised for a second at how easily Tara dropped the subject – she had been expecting another prolonged bout of teasing – but then Tara straightened up, turned around, and did a full-body stretch and yawn, closing her eyes and reaching her arms up above her head, almost touching the ceiling, then slowly reaching back behind herself with an innocent expression, as if she were doing nothing more than waking herself up after a good sleep. Willow's mouth went dry as Tara's top was first lifted up, revealing the bottom of her generous breasts, then drawn tight across her chest so the fabric stretched against her skin, with the peaks of her nipples clearly visible beneath it. 'Okay,' Willow thought, imagining even her thoughts to be speaking in a strained squeak, 'that confirms it, I'm a breast gal.'

Tara flashed her a quick, innocent smile, then crossed to the shutters and levered them open, letting the sunlight properly enter the room. Her skin took on a wonderfully healthy glow, and her hair blazed in the light like molten gold. With her back to Willow, she stretched again, this time pushing her palms into the small of her back as she arched her body. As the stretch made the muscles in her legs and backside grow taut, she hooked a finger from each hand into the waistband of her briefs and pulled them up, stretching the fabric as tight as it would go across her bottom. 'Still a breast gal,' Willow thought, barely able to keep her hand from creeping between her legs, 'but only just.'

"I love the morning sun," Tara purred, seemingly to herself. 'Alright,' Willow thought, 'two can play that game.' She kept an eye on Tara, making sure she didn't turn around while she was wriggling underneath the blankets, then she swung her legs off the side of the bed and stood up, smoothing her short black robe down.

"Um, can I put my panties in with your washing?" she asked innocently. "It's just, I was wearing them all day yesterday, a-and no-one will notice if I'm in just my long skirt when I go back to my room." Tara glanced at Willow over her shoulder, with more than a slight spark of interest in her eyes, and nodded towards the basket on the floor, containing her clothes to be cleaned in the castle's laundry. Tara's eyes slammed wide open and her jaw dropped when she saw Willow smile in thanks and casually toss her underwear into the basket.

Willow crossed the room and slipped past Tara, bathing in the golden morning light, and very much aware of Tara's wide eyes fixed on her. She began a full-body stretch, just like Tara had done, but curtailed it when she felt the hem of the robe lift up to the tops of her thighs. 'Chicken,' she thought, but on turning around and stepping around Tara, she saw she had achieved the desired effect – Tara's expression was one of pure shock, and her chest was rising and falling quite distractingly with her sudden rapid breathing.

"Um, I-I should go bathe," Tara said after a moment, "I-I'll make sure there's some water on the fire for you, if you want to go as well, a-after I'm done."

"Thanks," Willow said brightly, inwardly glowing at Tara's flustered reaction. She was caught completely by surprise when Tara's hand caught her around the waist, pulled her back a step, and spun her around into Tara's arms. Before she had even consciously realized what was happening her mouth had opened to let Tara kiss her, and she was feeling her body go weak as Tara's lips covered hers, and her tongue danced between them. Willow's knees actually gave up, and she let herself settle into Tara's embrace, trusting Tara to keep her from falling. All her attention was on the kiss when, to her shock and absolute delight, she felt Tara's thigh nudge between her legs. Willow's hips pressed forward of their own accord, and then, just as quickly as it had happened, she was being gently lowered to the bed, and Tara was smiling sweetly at her.

"I-I'll be back in a few minutes," she said.

"Okay," Willow squeaked, as Tara pulled on her robe and slipped out, closing the door behind her. Willow slowly became aware of a familiar, overly-moist feeling between her legs. 'Damn' she thought, grinning ear to ear, 'she got me.'

Willow closed the door of her bedroom behind her and leant on it, calming herself. The short, and intentionally cold, bath she had had in the private room in the Amazon quarters had done little to soothe the warmth building up inside her. She had to admit that the experience of walking through the castle with no underwear hadn't helped – she knew she looked perfectly normal in her long skirt and tunic, but she kept imagining the sly smiles Tara had kept giving her as they had eaten breakfast. And the feel of Tara's arms around her as they hugged goodbye for the day. And the way Tara's fingers had kept brushing over the back of her neck when she had insisted she comb Willow's hair. And, she had to admit, everything about Tara.

She quickly crossed to her room's window and closed the shutters – unlike the rooms the Amazons had been given, Willow's quarters were level with the walkway on the castle's far wall, ten meters away, and she had no desire to have an inquisitive guard looking in at her just now. She pulled her tunic over her head and tossed it aside, then undid her belt and the cord in the waist of her skirt, letting both fall to the floor. One hand went instinctively towards her sex, but stopped, her fingers resting on her mound, a hair's breadth from their destination, as Willow caught sight of herself in the mirror over the dressing table. She wondered for a moment what happened to the studious, innocent-looking sorceress she had been just…'Gods,' she thought, 'just a few days ago. Five days. And now look at me just thinking of her.' From the mirror, an unrestrained, wanton version of herself stared back at her, eyes half-closed, mouth open, lips wet from running her tongue over them, pausing in the middle of taking in a deep breath, with her back arched and her breasts thrust proudly forward, one hand resting its fingers on the soft skin of her cleavage, her bra pulled down to reveal herself – she hadn't even realized she was doing that – the other hand reaching down, fingers amid the short red curls of hair, aimed with no uncertainty directly at her sex.

In her mind's eye, Tara was standing behind her, staring at her in the mirror, reaching around her body to touch where Willow's hands were. Willow closed her eyes and imagined it was Tara's hand that now moved to cover her breast, delicately brushing across her nipple then taking it between thumb and forefinger and squeezing lightly, twisting gently from side to side, teasing until the tiny peak was so hard it was maddening. She imagined Tara's hand now moving further down to cup her mound in her palm, her fingers passing by on either side of her clit to rest on the warm, wet folds of her sex. With a shuddering breath she gently drew her fingers up between her lips, one by one, just her fingertips teasing the entrance to herself, then rising up towards the bundle of nerves which was screaming for attention as she steadfastly avoided it. Willow knew that, in her current state, it wouldn't take her long to achieve release, but seeing as her responsibilities didn't allow her to stay in her bedroom all day, she decided it was for the best, and resolved to make her short bout of self-indulgence a memorable one.

Her intentions were overruled by her body's demands, though, when for no reason she was quite aware of the image of Tara, naked, flashed across her mind, and she imagined herself licking and sucking the nipples she had only seen as glimpses beneath thin clothing. That simple thought made her open her eyes, just for a moment to orient herself, then take two steps and collapse onto her bed, rolling onto her back with her left hand squeezing one breast and then the other, and her right trapped between her thighs, which she clenched together with all the strength she could muster. She reveled in the somehow delightful sensation of her thighs pressing against each other, as her fingers, trapped as they were, wriggled in an attempt to satisfy her. She managed to maneuver the tip of a finger in between her lips, inside herself, then without conscious thought she somehow managed to bend her thumb underneath her palm to press on her clit, rubbing hard and fast. Her legs jolted, parted, her finger plunged into her wet sex as deep as it could, and she thrashed her head to one side and bit her pillow to keep from screaming Tara's name aloud.

She lay still for a moment, breathing in heavy gasps and keeping her hands still. 'I think I set some sort of speed record,' she thought with a grin, which made her laugh a little until she managed to catch her breath and extract her hand from between her legs. She slowly sat up and looked down at herself – the traces of wetness on her inner thighs, the slowly fading marks where her fingers had pressed into her breasts. She had to laugh when she noticed she still had her boots on. 'Just as well I didn't have underwear on,' she mused as she stood up gingerly and crossed to the basin to clean herself up. It was, she decided, going to be a long day.

Willow found herself – fully clothed – again in the Baron's study, glancing between the Baron, who was just putting down a thick volume he had been reading, and his advisor, who was as always deep in the middle of writing something.

"Traditions of the Vizjerei," the Baron explained, closing the book and leaving it on the side of his desk. "Seeing as I will be judge at Hydris's trial, I should know how his clan would handle such a matter, and what affect their ways may have on our local laws. No matter. The, um, steps you advised in your note yesterday have been undertaken, the materials destroyed as per your instructions, and the books you selected sealed in the vault beneath the castle. Now, if you please, what did you discover?" Willow took a deep breath and began.

"The mage was conducting a demonic ritual. My opinion is that he intended to summon a demon, but I should advise you that not all elements of the ritual were entirely familiar, from the texts I've read, so it's possible I'm mistaken on that. I'm sure that he intended to make contact of some sort with a demon, and I think it's very likely he was disturbed before he managed to do so."

"I see," the Baron said gravely, "well, we can be thankful for that. Would this ritual have affected Hydris in any way? Made him more prone to violent acts, such as the attack on the maid?"

"Possibly," Willow allowed, "but I have to emphasize that, in my opinion, he prepared the ritual in full knowledge of what he was doing. If he was unusually violent when he was disturbed, it was an effect of the ritual, not the cause of it."

"Yes, I understand. I'm told he has shown no signs of remorse since I last saw him, when he was quite uncommunicative. I don't doubt your judgment, Miss Willow, I merely ask to be thorough. I suppose that confirms most of what we suspected already – we suffered during the Reckoning, and it is still the case that when someone here thinks of 'black magic', demons come instantly to mind. My father held the throne then, until he fell in battle against the creatures laying siege to us. I hoped when it was over, and word came that the Reckoning had been won, that we had seen the last of their kind. Tell me, if you have discovered it – what demon was it that Hydris sought to bring here? There are several that are known to us, the leaders of the armies that fought us then."

"Its name in Westlin is Shadai," Willow said.

"Hrm," the Baron grunted, "not one of those that were banished from here. Do you have any idea why he would choose that particular demon?" Willow hesitated, then sighed and nodded.

"Shadai was summoned several months ago, in Entsteig," she explained. "I was there. I had a…a small part in banishing it. If it's just…coincidence that this happened now, while I'm here, then I can't think of any other reason why it would be this demon. It's not one that is easily summoned, a-and the texts that speak of it, um, wouldn't be tempting to a summoner."

"Vicious brute, is it?" the Baron asked. Willow nodded.

"That's one way of saying it, sir," she agreed. "During the Sin War, the Horadrim texts say that Shadai was a captain in the armies of Mephisto, the Lord of Hatred. She rebelled – apparently thought he was weak – a-and led her army north into Scosglen. She…she killed everything, the texts say. Not just people, but animals, plants, even the earth, she made the ground sick, a-and it took generations for anything to grow again there. When the ancestors of the Horadrim finally banished her, there was nothing left. The only people who live there now are settlers who came centuries later, from the tribes to the west of there."

"I see," said the Baron again. "Did she fight in the Reckoning?"

"No," said Willow, "no-one knows why. Um, some of the texts say that the Prime Evils never forgave Shadai for rebelling against Mephisto. I-it's possible they refused to summon her when they brought their armies here."

"That's telling in itself," the Baron mused, "they brought every other kind of abomination to plague us, no matter how foul or murderous."

"Yes sir," Willow said, grateful she had been just a child at the time, and it had all happened far away. The Baron looked glum, then stood and bowed to Willow.

"Well, I thank you for your help," he said, "you have been invaluable in this difficult time. I shall make sure your Order is aware of the service you have rendered."

"Thank you sir," Willow said automatically.

"And I'll see you at the dinner tonight? If, er, you and the Lady Tara wish to attend together," he said, seeming suddenly a little hesitant in his words, "I'll see that you're seated next to each other."

"Th-that's most kind of you," Willow said, smiling. She had noticed the Baron being quite generous in his treatment of her and Tara, when it must be obvious to him that they were, well, intimate. She wouldn't have expected it of a western nobleman, where attitudes were fairly archaic, but she wasn't about to question good fortune.

"Good, good," the Baron said distractedly, resuming his seat and opening the book of Vizjerei customs again. Willow bowed and left, silently agreeing with him – it was indeed very good.

Chapter 13

After Willow left the Amazon quarters, Tara changed into her armor, gave her family circlet a quick polish before putting it on, then made her way down to the small dining hall on the ground floor that had been given to the Amazons for use as a meeting room. Tryptin was already there, busy as always with a handful of letters and carrying on a conversation with a minor dignitary in extravagant purple robes. He nodded to Tara when he saw her, concluded his business with the other man, and crossed the room to her, pausing to offer a word or two of advice to the various emissaries who were seated at the hall's long tables, discussing business or politics with visitors from the surrounding towns.

"There's been a slight change of plans," he said after exchanging good mornings with her. "We'll be leaving here in three days, rather than five. A rider arrived last night carrying news from the port, and announcing another caravan is on its way. Some merchants, but mainly a party of ambassadors from Duncraig returning home – they hadn't expected to arrive back for another week, but apparently their ship made good time crossing the Great Ocean."

"They'll be with us all the way to Duncraig?" Tara asked.

"Yes, so it seems," Tryptin said, "their planned route is a little out of our way, further into the highlands away from the river to visit settlements, but it's worth the delay for the safety of a larger caravan. Some of the merchants coming down-river to Kingsport have been spreading rumors of bandit activity on the north roads – hard to tell how well-founded the rumors are, of course, but between our guards and the Duncraig caravan we'll have over thirty soldiers, which should deter any brigands we run across. They're arriving tomorrow morning, I think it would be beneficial if you were on hand to greet them with me. We hadn't planned to meet any of these people, but if they're of high standing in the Duncraig court as the messenger says, it will be useful to travel with them. Perhaps we'll have some of our work finished by the time we reach the city."

"I'll be there," Tara said.

"Good, thank you. Oh, also," Tryptin went on, "is Miss Willow going to be staying with you in future?"

"Oh," Tara said, "I-I'm not sure. I think…maybe, I'll ask her." She couldn't think of any reason why Willow wouldn't want to, but she didn't want to make decisions for her, especially when both of them were still adjusting to their relationship. Tryptin nodded understandingly.

"I'll ask the servants to prepare an extra portion at mealtimes," he said.

"Th-thank you," Tara said, "I-I'll ask her as soon as I see her. I-I think she probably will…"

"I wouldn't be surprised," Tryptin observed idly. At Tara's curious look, he elaborated: "I'm trained to notice things like this. Body language, expressions…believe me, if you want to get through a negotiation, the last thing you do is wait for people to tell you what they're thinking. Besides," he added with a grin, "the way you look at her, and she at you – I've seen that before."

"Oh?" Tara said hesitantly.

"There's a young woman waiting at home who looks at me like that," Tryptin explained with a smile. "I know what it feels like. It changes a person…for the better, I'm sure." He shrugged. "Let me know if there's anything I can do to make her feel welcome among us."

"I-I will," Tara promised, "thank you. Y-you've been very kind already." Tryptin gave her a modest look.

"You've looked very happy since you two met," he said, "it's a comfort to have helped." They stood in companionable silence for a moment, Tara thoughtful and smiling shyly, Tryptin glancing around the room, seeming to absorb the murmur of the dozen or so conversations that were going on around them.

"Well, the delegation from Karlsband will be here soon," Tryptin said finally, "they're a few minutes late for some reason. There are some matters of policy we'll have to discuss which could take the morning. I'll need you there, though I'm afraid there won't be much for you to do. Perhaps you'd like to get something to eat before they arrive? I'll send for you when they do."

"Of course," Tara nodded. Tryptin smiled, took another glance around at the various meetings in progress, then went into one of the private meeting rooms adjacent to the hall, signaling for a servant to follow him. Tara picked a piece of bread and some cheese from one of the platters on the tables, and took a seat at the side of the hall.

Unsurprisingly, her thoughts kept returning to Willow. For a moment she smiled in recollection of Willow's daring teasing before breakfast – the image of her wearing Tara's short black robe and nothing else wasn't one she'd forget in a long while. Indeed, it had been quite an effort for Tara to calm herself down, even after Willow had returned to her own room. Of course, that was hardly Willow's fault – she remembered her own behavior, mercilessly teasing Willow as they lay together in bed, and afterwards flaunting herself for Willow, feeling just as warmed by the lusty gaze she had received as by the morning sun streaming through the window. She smiled at herself, at the notion of shy, quiet Tara displaying herself so obviously, deliberately choosing her lightest sleepwear, standing in front of Willow with full knowledge of how the curves of her body were being revealed – and instead of feeling embarrassed, she had been aroused by it. At one point, just before Willow had trumped her by stretching right in front of her with nothing but a short robe covering her, she had been imagining what it would be like to be naked in front of Willow, to have Willow's gaze travel all over her, her breasts, her nipples, between her legs… when Willow had stunned her, it had been those thoughts, still caught up in her fantasy, that had led her to return the favor, to grab her and kiss her, and then when she felt Willow relax, to slip her thigh between Willow's legs. The moment when Willow had thrust forward had been almost more than she could stand, when for a moment she felt the heat between Willow's thighs on her own – actually on her skin, with nothing between them! Just the memory of it- 'Stop it,' she insisted to herself, 'you're in a public place and you're about to sit in on a long session of negotiations, this is not the time to indulge in lurid recollections.'

She grinned at herself and took another bite of bread, crossing her legs to assuage, in a tiny way, the tingling between them. She thought for a moment about Tryptin's news, of the new caravan. Presumably it would keep the emissaries and Tryptin's people busy for the duration of the journey, and she guessed they might make good progress if the Duncraig ambassadors didn't have anything else much to occupy them along the way. That would leave her and Willow to their own devices most of the time – 'Goddess, you just don't stop, do you?' she thought. She wondered if their departure two days earlier than expected would affect Willow at all – perhaps, had she been studying as planned, but with Hydris imprisoned and in no condition to teach anything, she guessed it wouldn't be a problem. Two weeks or more, alone with Willow in a none-too-spacious wagon, sounded like heaven to Tara.

Of course, that was still a little while away. According to Tryptin they wouldn't be leaving for three days – she hadn't thought to ask whether the combined caravan would set out in the morning or afternoon, but she guessed morning, to get a full day's travel in before they had to stop for nightfall. Three days, at least one of which would be taken up with Hydris's trial – she frowned at the thought. There was the thief Josef, as well, Tara would have to attend his trial, although she imagined it would go fairly quickly. She wasn't looking forward to that – the memory of staring at the bolt in her hand, and slowly realizing it had been fired at her, was not one she had yet quite come to terms with. But it was necessary, both to demonstrate to the Baron that she, and by extension the Amazon nation, approved of his handling of the event, and to conform with the Amazon custom that a warrior would always face her enemy if given the chance. Tara decided that, her trepidation aside, it would be good for her to look into the face of the man who had tried to kill her – she imagined it might make the whole business more solid in her mind, less ethereal, and so she wouldn't be forever looking over her shoulder, worrying whether she was being watched by some nebulous stalker. She sighed, and resigned herself to it.

A happier thought entirely was the evening's dinner. Tara hoped she wouldn't be seated far from Willow, and wondered how much time they would be able to spend together during the evening, whether there would be dancing, what Willow might wear. Her Zann Esu battlegear would surely suffice to make her the center of attention, but Tara had a sneaking suspicion that Willow would surprise her, and couldn't wait to see how. Tara herself, of course, would be in her warrior gear again, though she thought it would be sufficient to wear her greaves and bracers, and leave her shoulder plates packed in her bedroom – they weren't the most comfortable things to wear, and the court had already got a good look at her in all her Amazon regalia, and she flattered herself that they wouldn't have forgotten it just yet. At least, the way Willow had praised her appearance…Tara couldn't stop herself from grinning again…and anyway, armored women were a rarity in Westmarch.

She wondered how she would approach the topic of Willow's sleeping arrangements. Waking up next to her – even with her momentary fit of shyness at discovering she had groped Willow in her sleep – had been one of the most pleasant experiences of Tara's life, and one she was keen to repeat. 'Indefinitely,' she admitted to herself – that would be a conversation for another day, though. For now, she pondered what might be the best approach. She was sure Willow wouldn't object, but she didn't want to appear too demanding, or conversely too hesitant. She had a sudden image of herself blurting out 'Would you sleep with me tonight?' to Willow, and then having to explain that she actually meant sleep, as opposed to…not sleep.

That thought, too, was daunting. When would she be ready to sleep with Willow? No, no euphemisms – have sex…make love? She had no doubt it would be the latter, she couldn't imagine it being any other way. But she wondered whether the nervousness she felt would ever subside, or if it was just something she would have to overcome. At the same time as she was discovering the sheer power of her attraction to Willow, she was finding a new side to herself, a Tara who reveled in being sensual, in being sexual. It was something she had never really experienced before. She knew about sex, of course – Amazon children who were coming of age were taught enough to ensure they would approach adulthood wisely, or at least as wisely as adolescents ever would. And once the girls reached puberty, the late-night gossiping in the clan halls turned to matters of sex as often as not, and as they grew older the shared stories became more fact than fiction. Tara was fairly confident she knew how it all worked – well, she certainly knew how her own body worked – but until know the knowledge had been on an intellectual level. She had thought about the various activities that had been discussed in hushed voices among the trainee girls, been quietly excited by some of them, even fantasized when she had taken advantage of the privacy of her bedroom to explore herself. Even then, though, the fleeting images that had passed through her mind had been curiously vague – thoughts simply of being kissed, being touched, rather than any notion of a particular person kissing or touching her.

She had never before truly considered herself as a sexual being, even when she had brought herself to orgasm. She had enjoyed the sensations, but comparing the idea of touching herself with the idea of Willow touching her, even if in exactly the same way – it was something else entirely. This Tara who felt Willow's eyes on her, and wanted to feel more, this Tara who teased, and aroused, and was proud of being able to drive Willow to distraction, to the point where their mutual attraction boiled over and they both got a little lost in their desire – after a lifetime of being pensive and unassuming, it was something of a shock for Tara to find she was capable of such hedonistic abandon. Or, as her fellow trainees would say, 'a wild one in the sack'. Tara allowed herself a wicked grin. Who would have thought? Then again, she had a vague memory of someone once advancing the opinion that 'it's always the quiet ones'. Perhaps there was something in that.

She finished her snack and leant back in her seat, folding her arms while she waited. She wondered how much free rein to give that side of herself. She was glad that side of herself was there, and was present in Willow as well, to judge by the way she delighted in returning Tara's sensual teasing, but common sense had to have its place if they were to consummate their love the way Tara wanted to – perfectly. Perhaps that was over-ambitious, but Tara's instructors had always told her to set her goals high. 'Aim for the top,' Solari had been fond of saying, 'even if you fall a bit short, you'll be surprised how high you get.' This probably wasn't what her weapons instructor had had in mind, but Tara thought it sound advice. And if she and Willow gave in to their passions without a second thought, then perhaps it would be too soon, or too rushed, or one or both of them would still be too tentative, and wind up somehow unsatisfied. Tara wasn't worried that their relationship might be soured by the experience – she knew herself better than that, and she was convinced she knew Willow well enough to believe likewise – but their first time…the first time she made love to Willow…the first time would only happen once, and Tara wanted to be able to look back on it with nothing but joy.

Doubtless she would get the opportunity to discuss it with Willow. She sensed Willow felt the same way, that she wanted to spend some time at least getting familiar with the intimacy between them, so there was no great rush to establish ground rules. Sometime in the next couple of days, Tara mused, when Willow seemed receptive to such an intimate conversation, she would do her best to tell Willow what she was feeling, and why. That would be best – then there would be no doubts or misunderstandings between them, and they would be able to work out when they were ready, together, and enjoy both the growth of their love and the prospect of its consummation in the not-too-distant future without any anxiety, or trying to guess what the other was thinking.

That just left asking Willow to stay with her. Tara decided that, surely, she would have a moment alone with Willow to ask her during the evening. She had managed it once already, of course, but Willow had been tired and upset, and if Tara had felt nothing but chaste friendship for her she still wouldn't have let her go, to sleep alone in an empty room. Tara didn't delude herself that Willow was entirely free of the after-effects of her experience with the demon, or the sudden shock of finding traces of it in the mage's ritual, but she was at least dealing with it in her own time, finding what peace she could and rebuilding her dreams, rather than letting the nightmares take hold. Tara suspected it was a process that had begun long before they met – probably with Ember, who Tara felt indebted to for her kindness towards Willow – but it was a process still in motion, and one Tara committed herself to helping. Still, Willow today was not the shocked, anxious Willow of last night, and asking her to share Tara's bed was a different matter. Of course it was something Tara wanted, something she was sure Willow wanted, but that didn't account for the emotion involved – it was like saying that she wanted to make love to Willow. It was the simple truth, but the idea of it still sent her pulse racing.

'We'll see,' Tara promised herself, 'if worst comes to worst, just blurt it out and deal with blushing furiously for the rest of the night.' One thing was for sure: Tara would not let anything stand between her and once more waking up with Willow cradled in her arms.

Tara checked herself in the mirror one last time before walking out into the common room, where the most prominent of the emissaries and negotiators were gathering. She had left her hair down after drying it, liking the way her treatment had given it a slight waviness that she thought was much more appealing than its usual straightness. Leaving her hair untied wouldn't be practical for a warrior, but the evening was purely a social gathering, and as she had already been presented to the court as Tara, Amazon warrior, she decided to indulge herself and appear a little more…well, feminine. Not that her ceremonial dress and look was in any way un-feminine, but she acknowledged that there was quite a difference between that proud, aggressive image and the quiet elegance she was hoping to achieve tonight. If it weren't for Willow, of course, she doubted she'd have even given so much thought to her appearance.

Tryptin glanced at her, nodded amiably in approval, and motioned towards Melcan. Being an apprentice he was not strictly included in the party to attend the Baron's dinner, but Tryptin had suggested he come along as Tara's attendant, which would have the dual benefit of relieving Tara of the responsibility of handling a court dinner and her spear at the same time, and giving the boy a chance to observe his elders, while no-one would really be paying attention to him. Tara handed him Silverstrike, then fell in behind Tryptin as he and the other half-dozen Amazons left the common room and headed for the keep, where the dinner was being held in one of the smaller dining halls.

The room was brightly lit by torches along the walls, spaced between banners and tapestries, and already full of the murmur of conversation when they arrived. The sound stilled somewhat, and the Baron rose from his chair to greet the Amazons, but Tara's eyes were instantly drawn to Willow, two seats along the table from him. She, and the rest of the diners, rose a fraction after the Baron, and Tara saw Willow's eyes quickly scan the faces of the Amazons before finding and settling on her. Willow smiled joyfully, and nodded discreetly to the chair beside her, which was empty – 'For me?' Tara hoped. She smiled in return, and found her gaze lingering on Willow while Tryptin accepted the Baron's welcome.

Willow had tied her hair back, knotted in a translucent silver scarf that made her scarlet hair only more striking, but she had left a few strands loose on either side of her brow, framing her face. Her dress was emerald green, like her battlegear, but more traditional in style. Staring at her from across the table as she stood, Tara could see the top of a long, flowing skirt composed of many layers of thin fabric, the outer folds of which seemed almost to float around her as she moved – Tara thought it must be light as air, and wondered what it would feel like to wear. 'Or touch.' Willow's middle was clad in a tight wrap of matching fabric that clung to the curves of her waist, and from that came a silky-smooth top that cupped her breasts, leaving a teardrop-shaped gap that revealed her cleavage before it wove into straps that were looped around the back of her neck, leaving her shoulders bare.

Tryptin took care of the formal greetings, though Tara noticed the Baron favor her with a nod, which she returned, and then the Amazons were shown to their seats. Tara was delighted to find herself shown to the empty chair beside Willow, which Melcan held out for her before taking his place at the end of the table, out of everyone's way. Tara smiled politely at the Baron's advisor, seated on her other side, before turning her attention entirely to Willow.

"You look lovely," Willow murmured as the conversations around them resumed. Tara felt herself blush faintly, and smiled.

"Th-thank you," she said, "so do you. I-I thought you'd come up with something to surprise me."

"Oh, I have," Willow promised with a mysterious smirk. Tara's eyes widened, but Willow seemed in no hurry to elaborate.

"So, is this traditional sorceress battlegear as well?" Tara asked. "Because if it is, y-you're easily the most elegant order ever." Willow chuckled.

"No, it's something I bought while I was in Entsteig," she said after taking a sip of wine. Tara noticed she didn't frown at all when she mentioned the place, and was pleased to see that her nerves weren't so frayed as they had been the previous night. "I used to wear full robes a lot," Willow explained, "'cause it's kind of cold up there, and one weekend when I was out in the city with the other girls – we always used to spend our free days around the Gotunberg markets – Saria dared me to buy this. 'Cause, you know, she figured I wouldn't, being all serious-minded as I was. So I did, just to see the look on her face."

"I'm glad you did," Tara said softly.

"Yeah, well," Willow grinned, "I never actually wore it until now. Down here everything I've got looks kind of exotic, I guess, but in Entsteig they're pretty reserved, a-and this would be considered, well, more revealing than a good young woman should be." Tara smiled, noticing the tiniest hint of a blush on Willow's cheeks, and leaned closer to her.

"It's not the most revealing thing you've worn today," she whispered, then leaned back and assumed her most innocent expression as Willow shot her a scandalized look.

With all the guests present the Baron signaled for the servants, who moved along the length of the table laying out plates, then bowls of a rather tasty vegetable soup that stirred Tara's appetite.

"Did you hear about the new caravan?" Willow asked after a few spoonfuls.

"Tryptin told me this morning," Tara said, "we'll be going north together. Y-you're staying with us?" she added.

"Of course," Willow reassured her, "besides, there's no reason for me to stay here any longer. I'll be with you all the way."

"We'll see whether you still think my snoring is cute by the time we get to Duncraig," Tara joked quietly, so only Willow could hear.

"Well, they say the cure for snoring is to roll the person onto their side," Willow observed playfully.

"There won't be much room in the wagon," Tara said.

"I know," Willow answered. Tara wasn't sure exactly what Willow meant by that, but she got the general idea well enough from the inviting glance Willow gave her.

"Um, speaking of sleeping arrangements," she said softly, wanting to get it out of the way, "I was thinking, i-if you'd like of course, maybe you'd stay, um, in the Amazon quarters while we're here? Um, with me, I-I mean." She felt her shyness reasserting itself, but risked a glance at Willow, and saw a lovely smile dawning on her face.

"I'd love to," Willow answered, keeping her voice down, "I was hoping I could…"

"Of course," Tara said instantly, "o-of course, I-I'd love you to as well." They shared a smile for a long moment, Willow gazing openly at Tara, Tara wishing they were alone so she could embrace Willow in a tight hug, just to be as close to her as possible.

"Lady Tara?" A voice broke her out of her reverie. She turned to see Stefan, the archer, across the table two seats down.

"Oh, h-hello," she said, "good to see you."

"Likewise," he said. "I'm sorry to interrupt you…"

"No, of course," Tara said quickly, wondering just how long she and Willow had been wrapped up in each other's gaze. "Um, this is Willow, she's a sorceress, we're traveling together."

"Hello," said Willow.

"Yes, I remember your entrance the other night," Stefan said with a grin that would have been presumptuous had he been twenty years younger. As it was, Willow blushed and Tara had to stifle a giggle.

"Willow, this is Stefan," she introduced him, "h-he's the castle's best archer, we met before the hunt."

"Second-best until you leave, I fear," Stefan said after exchanging polite greetings with Willow, "but if it's not too much trouble, I really would appreciate the contest I mentioned that day. My reputation may take a slight beating, but it'll be a story to tell my grandson in a couple of years."

"O-of course," Tara said, "wh-when would suit you?"

"We haven't recruited any new guards recently," Stefan said, "so my training duties are light at the moment. But if it's not an imposition on your time, tomorrow afternoon would be a good opportunity. There's a regular meeting in Maresburg, the town nearest the castle, mostly for the local sportsmen and guards of course, but I attend more often than not – as a spectator, usually, to judge the talent of the competitors. I think the townsfolk would think it a memorable occasion to see an Amazon archer."

"I-I'm fairly sure I'm free then," Tara said, "if you'll excuse me a moment…Tryptin?"

"We can spare you for the afternoon," he said before returning to a discussion he was having with the master-at-arms. He was sitting next to Stefan, but Tara hadn't even noticed him paying any attention to the conversation. 'Then again,' she thought, 'he's the head of the mission. Keeping an eye and an ear on everything is part of his job.'

"Excellent," Stefan declared, "I look forward to it."

"As do I," spoke up the Baron from down the table, raising his glass to Stefan.

"What kind of contest?" Willow asked, when the Baron turned away to call for the main course. "Well, archery obviously," she answered herself before Tara could, "but, I mean, just target practice?"

"I don't know," Tara admitted, "probably something like that." She grinned. "I-I've heard that at contests like this, it's customary for the competitors to ask for the favor of a beautiful lady beforehand." She looked at Willow shyly.

"I've heard that too," Willow said softly, leaning close to Tara, "the ladies choose warriors to compete for them. Want to be my warrior?" she whispered. Tara nodded and turned to face Willow fully.

"A-and you'll be my beautiful lady?" she asked.

"Oh yes," Willow breathed, "I certainly will." Tara felt the urge to kiss Willow, and had to ignore it – 'Just for now,' she promised herself. She wondered how exactly they had gone from idly chatter to teasing to something very intimate and special, all in the space of a few words. It seemed she couldn't be around Willow without feeling elated. 'Tryptin was right,' she mused, 'love changes you.' Then again, she wondered if what she was feeling was in fact who she had always been, deep down. She felt freer than ever before.

A moment later she felt Willow's toes stroking the back of her ankle. She had worn light sandals, rather than the full-height boots to go with her greaves – they weren't necessary except as protection – so while the front of her calves were covered in bronze, the backs were bare, apart from the leather straps holding the armor in place. Checking that no-one was paying her very much attention, she leaned back and stole a quick glance beneath the table. One of Willow's short boots lay empty, and she was deliberately stroking Tara's lower leg with her naked foot, all the while appearing to be smiling amiably at her, as if nothing at all was going on. Tara stared at her, eyes wide – Willow merely raised an eyebrow, then glanced away and appeared to take an interest in a discussion on her other side, between the head of Kingsport's merchant guild, sitting beside the Baron, and Jasken, the gemstone dealer from the caravan, opposite him. Willow turned slightly in her seat, apparently to face the men she was listening to, but in doing so she allowed herself a greater freedom of movement with her leg. She pressed her foot against the back of Tara's calf, and slid it slowly all the way up to the straps at her knee.

Tara gulped a breath of air and did her best to look entirely relaxed. She fixed her eyes on her food – someone had evidently mentioned her preferences to the servants, so that instead of the roast she had been given a plate full of vegetables in a delicious cream sauce. She was just working her way through the potatoes – crispy, with a spicy bite to them, which led her to think that the Baron didn't employ his cooks exclusively for their talent with meat – when an idea occurred to her.

She stretched out her leg underneath the table, giving Willow unrestricted access to her leg. She thought she caught the faintest trace of a grin on Willow's face, but it was well-hidden. Willow shifted again in her seat, however, to curl her leg upwards, her toes stroking the underside of Tara's outstretched thigh. 'Flexible,' Tara thought with a wicked grin, hastily replaced by an expression of bland interest in the dinner conversation around her. That put Willow in exactly the position Tara wanted, but she held off on her plan for a few minutes, enjoying the feel of Willow's covert attentions, and periodically glancing around to make sure that none of the other diners had any idea what was going on. Truly, they were safe enough – the table was big and solid, and everyone's chairs were pulled up close to it, so that most of the action was taking place beneath four inches of wood. Tara reassured herself that she could only see Willow's interesting position because she was right next to her, able to lean back and look in the gap between their chairs.

'Right then,' she thought mischievously. Next time Willow caressed her down to the knee, Tara abruptly bent her leg, trapping Willow's foot between her calf and thigh. Willow jumped slightly, not enough for anyone to notice, but resisted the urge she must have felt to turn back towards Tara. Tara took another bite of her dinner, dabbed her lips delicate with her napkin, and on returning it to her lap left her hand beneath the table, while she took her glass in the other and sipped her wine. She reached out with a single finger, and gently tickled Willow's ankle. She noticed a certain rigid set to Willow's jaw that hadn't been there previously, but all in all, she thought, Willow was holding up remarkably well. She slowly trailed her finger along the back of Willow's calf – she couldn't quite reach her knee without bending down, which would have been too obvious, so instead she shifted a little closer to Willow and transferred her touch to Willow's thigh, dragging her fingertip back and forth in the gap where the slit of her skirt had pulled open.

Willow finally turned to give her a sidelong look, and Tara contrived to look as guileless as possible. Willow wiggled her foot a little, but Tara held her firmly in place, so she leaned over to Tara, her expression one of resolute innocence.

"You're driving me wild," she whispered.

"Mmm-hmm," Tara answered.

"I'll get you for this," Willow promised.

"Good," Tara said with a quick grin. Willow smiled, probably a little more sexily than she had intended to, and sat up straight again, as Tara continued to stroke her leg, alternative between her ankle and thigh. Tara cast her covert glances as she made her way through her dinner one-handed, noticing the enticing way her chest moved as her breathing became a little faster and deeper. From where Tara was sitting, Willow's dress offered a fantastic view of her cleavage. After a few minutes Willow leaned back to her.

"My leg's getting tired," she admitted. Tara relaxed her leg and let Willow go, earning a grateful smile from her. Willow let her foot fall back to the floor, and sneakily wiggled back into her boot, then gave Tara a look that had more than a hint of suggestion in it. Tara frowned slightly, confused, and Willow dropped her eyes for a moment, looking down between them. She resumed her nonchalant behavior, paying attention to whoever around them was talking, as Tara discreetly glanced down, and saw that Willow had managed to pull her skirt up a little way, so that the top of the skirt was bunched around her waist on Tara's side, and the slit ran all the way up to her hip. Tara leaned over towards Willow, reaching her fork across the table to skewer another potato from one of the platters, while beneath the table she took a handful of Willow's thigh, right up where it met her hip, and gave her a playful squeeze. Willow squirmed slightly in her seat, pushing herself into Tara's hand.

"Miss Willow, if I may?" came a voice from down the table. 'Damn,' Tara thought wholeheartedly, sitting back and letting Willow answer without being distracted. The speaker was a middle-aged man with a thin gray moustache. Tara had vaguely noticed him before, when the Amazons had arrived – he had stood with the help of a cane, and his clothes were finely tailored.

"I understand your order of mages values purity above all else?" he asked Willow.

"That's right," she said. "We use only elemental magic, which can't be influenced the way other magics can."

"Quite," said the man, "but surely there is more to it than just a particular brand of magic? Or are your elemental sorceresses incapable of evil?"

"No, of course not," Willow explained, "the purity of the magic is that it's free of influence, of any kind of influence, good or evil. That way, a sorceress can't be manipulated by outside forces. But, of course, it means we're entirely responsible for how we conduct ourselves."

"Of course," the man said with a friendly smile. "But can't the same be said of other orders? Surely one would not contemplate, for example, that a paladin of Zakarum could be made to do evil by his devotion to his faith?" Tara frowned, noticing something irritatingly persistent about the way the man was questioning Willow.

"I-it's not that simple," Willow protested, "the Zakarum worship a power of light, but they're only human. It's possible for another force, a demon for instance, to use that worship to corrupt them, if it can trick them into believing that it's an angel. The paladins call them 'false lights', they spend a lot of time training to recognize them, a-and resist them."

"But they're only human," the man repeated, nodding. "Yes, I understand. Tell me, have any of your order ever become corrupted?" The conversations along the length of the table were falling silent, leaving all attention on Willow and the man. She took a moment to think about her answer.

"Corrupted, no," she said. "No, in our histories, and those of the Horadrim, there are no records of any sorceresses who have ever served demons."

"Of course not," the man said quickly, "but there are other forms of corruption, aren't there? It's not uncommon that people, quite without the aid of magic, can become corrupted by power, or privilege. Or immoral behavior, even." The silence around the table had become tense, and Tara suddenly wished the man would shut up and leave Willow alone.

"Humans aren't perfect," Willow said, with an edge to her voice, "but we do our best to devote ourselves to serving the forces of good, a-and avoid situations that could…induce us to ignore that service."

"A sound policy," the man said graciously, "but how then would your order feel about you being in the close company of your, uh, friend from the Amazons?"

"Excuse me?" Willow blurted out, while Tara blinked in shock at the implied insult. The other Amazons were exchanging concerned glances, several of the other guests were plainly embarrassed by the turn the conversation had taken, and the Baron's master-at-arms was glaring furiously at the speaker.

"You're aware, Miss Willow," he went on, "of the tendency of their women to…associate with each other? Clearly contrary to correct moral behavior. I wonder how you might reconcile such a situation with your devotion to purity?"

"Von Karlin!" snapped the Baron.

"I meant no offence, Baron," the man, von Karlin, said, raising his hands in a gesture of appeasement. "Among their own tribe, the practices of our honored guests are their own. I merely observe that, in civilized society, it is unacceptable to-"

"If you meant no offence," the Baron said in a raised voice, "you should have refrained from being offensive!"

"Of course, Baron," von Karlin said with a thin smile. He stood and dropped his napkin on the table beside his half-empty plate. "If you'll excuse me?" He stalked out without waiting for the Baron's leave. There was an uncomfortable silence in the wake of his departure.

"Let that be the end of that," the Baron said firmly. There was a general sigh of relief as conversations quietly resumed between the assembled guests. Tara turned to Willow, noticing a strained look on her face.

"A-are you alright?" she asked. Willow looked at her quickly, then nodded.

"Fine," she said, "just- it was unexpected, that's all. It was bound to happen sooner or later." She took a gulp of wine and sighed.

"It shouldn't," Tara quietly observed. Willow gave her a sad smile.

"I know," she said, before her gaze turned caring. "Are you okay?"

"Fine," Tara answered. "I-I was prepared for something like that…we know how some people feel about Amazons, a-and women, um, being with each other. It's just…it's not nice," she finished, painfully aware of how inadequate that was to describe the way von Karlin's words had hurt her. She knew she was a good person, and there was nothing wrong with her love for Willow – but it was a difficult thing, to have a complete stranger barely glance at her, and yet condemn her.

"Hey," Willow said softly, leaning close to Tara, "I am proud of the way I feel about you." Tara's mouth opened, but she couldn't find the words to tell Willow how grateful she was. Instead, she kissed Willow quickly on the cheek, and the surprised joy in Willow's eyes made her feel like she had just been blessed.

The rest of the evening passed uneventfully, both Willow and Tara being engaged in conversations with the other guests sitting near them, or listening to each other when they had a free moment. Tara was gratified to find Willow leaning on her elbow, hanging on her every word, as she discussed the government of the Amazon nation with the Baron's advisor, who introduced himself as Franzef, and a few minutes later she found herself just as entranced by Willow's description to Stefan of how a shard of ice could be created already in motion, so that it flew like an arrow without needing to be physically launched. Tara set aside her wineglass after a short while, suspecting that the light wine might be a little stronger than it seemed. That theory was confirmed when the Baron finally called an end to the night, and Willow stumbled slightly as she rose from her seat. Tara caught her arm and kept her upright, but Willow was still a touch unstable on her feet as they made their way back to the south wing of the castle, on the tail of the rest of the Amazons.

"Funny," Willow observed with a grin, "I must be a li'l tired."

"You're drunk," Tara told her indulgently.

"Nonsense," Willow proclaimed. "I'm perfetly sober. Pereft… perf…Okay, p'rhaps you've got a point," she conceded. Tara smiled and kept a steady grip on Willow's arm, which she admitted probably wasn't strictly necessary, with Willow having her staff to support her, but she wasn't about to refuse the opportunity to walk arm-in-arm with her. Willow let herself be guided to Tara's bedroom, and gave her a kiss on the cheek as Tara took her staff to lean in the corner with her spear. Tara extinguished most of the candles lighting the room, leaving only a couple near the mirror to cast a little light to see by. Willow slid out of her boots, then fumbled with the scarf in her hair for a moment before she gave up and let Tara untie it, humming to herself as Tara enjoyed running her fingers through her silky hair.

"Would'ya untie me while you're back there?" Willow asked. Tara glanced down at the back of Willow's dress, noticing it was held together by a corset-like series of loops, tied in a bow just beneath her shoulders. She undid the straps around the back of Willow's neck first, and Willow stood up straight as Tara then undid the cord on her back, loosening the loops a little then turning to her trunk.

"I-I'll get you a robe," she said, debating whether to give Willow the revealing black one she had worn the previous night, or something slightly more modest.

"No need," Willow said promptly. Tara turned back to see her wriggle her torso free of her dress, and let it slide silkily down her legs to the floor. She might have easily spent a long time staring contentedly at Willow's smooth back, or her slim, perfectly-formed legs, or even contemplating the fact that Willow was now naked from the waist up. But she did none of these things, because without any control at all, she found all her attention drawn to Willow's bottom. Instead of being covered by briefs, the round cheeks of her rear were quite bare – from between them, a thin wisp of silk emerged, widening into a triangle just as it joined the waistband of the most revealing piece of underwear Tara had ever seen. It was like the leather underwear that went with her armor, she thought distractedly, but instead of being thick and slightly uncomfortable, made for durability and so as not to become a nuisance during strenuous fighting, this seemed designed for a single purpose: to make Willow's backside look more delectable than Tara could ever have imagined.

"Like what you see?" Willow murmured, looking at Tara over her shoulder.

"It's…sexy," Tara managed, her fixed stare telling the full story.

"Goes with the dress," Willow said, leaning forward to pull back the covers on the bed. "Told you I'd surprise you." She knelt on the edge of the bed for a moment, giving Tara an absolutely perfect view of what was burned into her memory as an absolutely perfect bottom, then she lay down and pulled the blankets up over herself, rolling over onto her back once she was covered.

"You coming?" she asked.

'Almost,' Tara thought, making herself blush and grin at the same time. She could hear in Willow's voice that she was sleepy – probably made a bit drowsy by the wine, she thought, and seeing as it didn't seem getting to sleep would be a problem, she decided she could afford to tease Willow some more, without it leading to either of them becoming unduly frustrated.

She undid her bracers and laid them on the table, then turned around and put first one foot, then the other, up on the chair as she undid the straps on her greaves. She saw Willow watching her, and gave each leg a quick stroke, from ankle to thigh, as she removed the armor from them – Willow's eyes followed her hands each time. Then she undid the short leather skirt she had chosen to go with the outfit, holding it with one hand to keep it from falling straight away. Turning away from Willow, she slowly bent over, sliding the skirt down her legs as she went, until she was touching her toes. As always, the feel of Willow's gaze unashamedly fixed on her body stirred something in Tara. She tossed the skirt away and stood up, removing her circlet and running her fingers through her hair, which was starting to return to its usual straightness. Keeping an eye on Willow in the mirror, she took hold of her tunic in both hands and slowly pulled it up over her head. With one arm she sent it flying into the laundry basket on the floor, then reached behind herself to unhook the bra she had worn beneath it, seeing as there had been no need to wear the harness that went with her full armor. With a quick motion she released the catch, then slid the straps from first one shoulder, then the other, and let the material fall into her hands. She stood still for a moment, watching Willow in the mirror, then she leant down and blew out the remaining candles.

There was no moonlight to speak of coming through the clouds outside, so the room was in near-total darkness even before Tara closed the shutters and slid into her side of the bed. She reached out for Willow, and found her already shifting into the position she had fallen asleep in the night before, in the middle of the bed so Tara could lie against her, with an arm around her waist.

"Tara?" Willow said quietly.

"Yes honey?"

"You're beautiful," Willow said simply.

"So are you," Tara replied.

"I've…I…" Willow hesitated, then shifted as she looked over her shoulder, even though she could barely see anything. "Tara?"

"Yes?"

"I love you," she said. Tara swallowed, and took a deep breath.

"I'm not just saying that because I'm full of wine," Willow said quickly, "I'm not that drunk anyway…and I've known I loved you for…it seems so long already…a-and not long enough, you know? I-I want right now to last forever, a-and I can't wait for tomorrow and the next day, and all the time I'm going to spend with you. Or maybe I am drunk, I'm not sure I know what that means…"

"I know what it means," Tara said softly.

"You do?" Willow asked.

"It means you love me the way I love you," Tara whispered. Willow's breath caught for a second, then she rolled over, her arms going around Tara's waist.

"You-" she said in a small voice.

"I love you, Willow," Tara repeated.

"Oh gods Tara," Willow whispered, "I love you so much. I…I th-think I'm gonna cry," she admitted.

"Shh, it's alright," Tara assured her, "go to sleep. I love you, my beautiful Willow."

"Mmm, I love you…my warrior," Willow said sleepily. She kissed Tara, gently letting her tongue roam past her lips, finishing by taking Tara's lip between her own and sucking it longingly, then rolled over again in her arms, covering Tara's hand on her stomach with her own. Tara cradled her, enjoying the feeling of her breasts naked against Willow's back, and listened to the rhythm of Willow's breathing until she was sure she was asleep. Then, at last, she let her eyes close on the happiest day of her life.

Chapter 14

Willow awoke to conflicting sensations. Tara was pressed up against her, her legs curled in behind Willow's, her arm draped lovingly over Willow's waist, and her hand once again softly cupping Willow's breast. This time, though, there was no robe between them, so Willow felt not only the satisfying, arousing touch of Tara's palm over her naked breast, but also practically every inch of their bodies in contact with each other, Tara's briefs and Willow's supremely minimalist underwear counting for nothing in that regard. It was the kind of awakening that angels would pray for.

On the other hand, she had a pounding headache, and when she opened her eyes she found that even the small amount of sunlight filtering through the shutters was too much. She winced involuntarily, which caused Tara to stir in her sleep.

"Beautiful Willow…" Tara murmured, as if she had held that same thought in her mind since the night before. "Mmm…morning," she added.

Willow tried to say 'morning', but what came out was more like "Mmmrrrgh." She took a deep breath and tried to sort out her vocal cords.

"You okay?" Tara mumbled, tightening her embrace.

"Got a demon in my head with a mallet," Willow complained in a hoarse voice.

"Poor baby," Tara said. "Would this demon be called 'hangover' by any chance?"

"Maybe," Willow grumbled, tilting her head as much as she dared to get a glimpse of Tara.

"I'll kiss it better," Tara whispered, lifting her head slightly to brush her lips against Willow's forehead. At the same time she squeezed Willow's breast gently, bringing a smile to Willow's lips and making her give voice to a tiny moan. Her headache beat a hasty retreat, and suddenly she felt a lot better about waking up.

"I don't think there's a demon in there," she said in a sly tone as Tara's hand continued to gently massage her breast.

"Oh," said Tara, feigning disappointment, "so you don't want me to kiss it better?"

"I love you," Willow said immediately, without even thinking about it. Tara kissed the back of her neck, then teased her ear with the tip of her tongue.

"I love you too," she whispered, the touch of her breath in Willow's ear making her shudder. "About that kiss…?" she added, before closing her lips around Willow's earlobe and sucking it gently.

"Ahhh," Willow sighed, but she hesitated before answering.

"What's the matter?" Tara asked gently, ceasing her teasing of Willow's ear. Willow heard the slight anxiety in her voice, and suddenly nothing was as important as reassuring her, letting her understand she had not done anything wrong, and as far as Willow was concerned could never do anything wrong. Tara's eyes were wide and searching as Willow turned in her embrace, facing her.

"I love you so much," she assured her, "and I love everything you do to me, everything we've done, I- the way you make me feel, everything. And, gods, the way you drive me wild, it's amazing. It's just, that's kind of it, I lose control, a-and it kind of feels like you do too…not that I don't like that! I love it, I promise, the way you- it feels like you need me so badly, like I need you, and…I'm just worried if we get like that, a-and we get, you know, so excited, um, we might, you know…go too far? Not that I don't want to, I-I do, so much, it's just that, when we…when we…" she hesitated.

"When we make love," Tara said quietly. Willow beamed at her suddenly.

"When we make love," she repeated, "yeah…um, I want it to be…this is going to sound so dumb," she said shyly, "I want it to be perfect. And I know it's going to be totally new whatever happens, and so, you know, probably a fair bit of fumbling around and figuring things out, a-and I kind of don't mind that, you know? Like, that's all part of it, a-and part of the experience, and I'm going to love it, I'm so sure…but right now, everything's so new, just touching you is…I-I get shivers, I know I don't always show it, but it's so…new," she finished with a little shrug.

"I-I understand," Tara said warmly.

"I just want to get…well, not used to you," Willow interrupted herself, "I don't think I'll ever get used to you, you know? Like, I'm always going to feel a bit like it's the first time when I touch you, a-and I think that's so great…I just think, maybe, in a little time – not too much time, of course – I'll be a bit more, you know, confident. So, I just don't want things to go too fast just yet. Do you get that? Is that okay?" she finished, looking at Tara with eyes that were almost pleading.

"Oh Willow," Tara said, her anxiety laid to rest, at once now intent on reassuring Willow, and finding her utterly adorable at the same time. "Of course it's okay, I-I'd do anything for you, and I-I understand, I feel the same way…I want it to be perfect too. It will be," she promised Willow.

"You're so wonderful," Willow said in quiet amazement. She stared at Tara in silence for a moment, radiating love, then remembered what she had been saying.

"I just wanted you to know," she said hastily, "that's all, I don't mean that I don't want to, you know…be with you…um, touch you, a-and you touch me, in the meantime. 'Cause I do, so much, I love you so much and when we're together, you know, intimately, like this, it feels so…I don't have words for it, it's like everything is right, everything in the whole world is, is perfect. I just needed you to know, you know, so you wouldn't get too, um, too…you know, a-and get frustrated if we didn't, um, if we had to stop then."

"I understand," Tara said soothingly, "I know…I don't w-want to take this too fast either. I-I won't do anything I can't…that would be difficult to…slow down," she finished.

"That's all I wanted," Willow promised, "I didn't want you to get frustrated, i-if you got, um…"

"Aroused?" Tara asked silkily. Willow nodded. "It's alright," Tara assured her, "I know we have to wait, until we're both ready. And until then I promise I'll be fine."

"Me too," Willow said, "I like this, when we're intimate… even when I get, um, aroused, it's a good feeling, it's so good…even if we don't make love, just the feeling is…"

"I know," Tara said, "I love how you make me feel." She snuggled closer to Willow, pressing their breasts together between them. Willow moaned and wriggled her body, loving the feel of her breasts, her nipples, moving against Tara's. She closed her eyes and delighted in the feel of Tara's breasts…'Gods, there's so much of them,' she thought giddily, feeling them against her skin. She took a deep breath, lifting her chest, feeling her and Tara's breasts flatten against each other as their mutual tight embrace squeezed them. She heard Tara sigh, and having caused her pleasure made Willow shiver along the length of her body.

"Y-you make me feel beautiful," Tara whispered, "sexy…you make me need you…you make me hot…insatiable…and so wet…" Willow's breath caught, then without conscious thought she lunged forward the short distance between them, capturing Tara's lips in a heated kiss, her tongue thrusting in the second Tara's mouth opened for her. She heard and felt Tara moan into her kiss, and concentrated entirely on the pure softness of Tara's lips, the warmth of her mouth, the way her tongue danced with Willow's, stroking and caressing as if it had a mind of its own. She barely noticed her legs becoming tangled with Tara's, or anything at all until she felt, on her thigh, the press of silky material, with heat and wetness behind it. With a shuddering gasp, she pulled back from the kiss, halting for a moment as she felt her tongue being trapped between Tara's lips and sucked enthusiastically, before finally separating.

"I-I think this is where we go slow," she managed to say between panting, desperate breaths.

"Yeah," Tara breathed, a little smile playing over her lips. "But…that doesn't mean w-we have to let go…does it?" Willow knew that if she asked, Tara would pull back without complaint…but she also knew she didn't want that, and neither did Tara.

"I think," she said slowly, "we should stay right where we are." The heat radiating from Tara's silk-covered sex pressed against her thigh was incredible. Willow could feel herself becoming aroused by it, just by the feel of it. Without any movement or encouragement on Willow's part, her body was filling with heat, her nipples already poking with determination into the yielding flesh of Tara's breasts – and she could feel Tara's nipples doing the same to hers – and between her legs, very close, in fact, to Tara's thigh, a growing warmth and wetness. Willow felt ecstatically decadent, lying still against Tara, both of them so obviously aroused, making no effort to hide it from each other – in fact, deliberately prolonging their embrace, knowing the signs of their arousal were so blatantly evident. Willow realized that they weren't quite sharing equally yet, and lifted her leg a fraction. With no further communication, Tara shifted her thigh forwards, bringing it into contact with Willow's revealing underwear, and through that flimsy barrier, her sex.

"Oh godssss," Willow hissed, letting her leg rest on top of Tara's thigh, relaxing her body completely. She had to exercise some self-restraint not to move her hips, to grind her sex against Tara's leg to bring herself the release that would inevitably ensue. But there was a certain erotic attraction to their stillness, the way they lay together, sharing their bodies. It was, Willow realized, a step towards sharing the complete range of pleasures they could give each other, this simple act of being in close contact, of revealing in physical terms their mutual attraction, their love, and the deep, unquenchable hunger that went with it.

"So," Tara murmured, "I drive you wild?" Mostly her voice sounded utterly seductive, but Willow detected a hint of doubt, as if Tara couldn't quite believe she was capable of it, despite all the evidence.

"Remember yesterday morning?" Willow asked. Tara nodded. "After I went and stretched right in front of you, you remember how you kissed me?"

"I remember," Tara whispered.

"A-and then how you kept glancing at me all morning until I had to go back to my room," Willow went on, "you know, those little looks? The ones that said 'I know you're not wearing anything under that skirt'?"

"You made me so excited," Tara said.

"Every time you looked at me, I felt so…so sexual. A-and it was like, you and I were sharing this thing, this experience that was so intimate, in the middle of a room full of people, and none of them knew. Just you and me, our little secret…none of them knew what you knew, or knew how you were making me feel just by looking at me like that."

"I-I felt it too," Tara admitted, "every time."

"When I got back to my room," Willow whispered, making an effort not to let her shyness overcome her, "I closed the shutters…I took off all my clothes…stood in front of the mirror in just my boots, looking at myself…I-I imagined it was you there with me, touching me…I-I touched myself, thinking of you…I- my breasts…a-and…m-my sex." She could feel Tara's breathing become shallow, and her own as well, but as she spoke words that, a short time ago, she could never have imagined saying to another person, she felt a boldness stir within her. She wanted Tara to hear this, to hear these words from her, this intimate moment she was sharing.

"I-I lay down," she went on, her voice shaking slightly, "on the bed…I thought of you, of you naked, a-and your breasts…I-I imagined kissing you…there…" She licked her lips unconsciously. "I felt so…thinking of you, like that, made me so…I-I lay down, a-and I… squeezed my breasts…one after the other…hard…I-I dug my fingers in a little…a-and my other hand…I…between my legs…I stroked myself…I-I rubbed m-my clit…a-and…one finger, I…I put it…inside myself… f-first just the tip…in me…just a little…a-and then…deeper…all the way…a-and…I-I…I came…"

Tara's breathing was fast and shallow, the heat against Willow's thigh intense, and Willow could feel little tremors running through Tara's hips and legs as she held herself still.

"I love you Willow," she whispered, "I love you, just don't move…I need…I just have to…calm down…a little…oh goddess I love you…"

"Tara," Willow murmured, trembling at what she was about to suggest, "do you want…do you want to…?" Tara stared into Willow's eyes, her gaze a mix of concern and desperation.

"I don't-" she said haltingly, "I mean, if you…we should go slow…"

"I-it's alright," Willow said, "if you want…I-I want you to."

"Oh goddess Willow," Tara breathed, "I want to…I'm so close…"

"I want you to," Willow repeated firmly.

"Hold me," Tara pleaded, closing her eyes. Willow tightened her arms around Tara, holding the entire length of their bodies together, and edged her thigh upwards just a fraction, increasing the pressure on Tara's sex. Tara breathed in short gasps, her hips rocking against Willow – whether by chance or by foresight, Tara's thigh between Willow's legs had moved back just a fraction, which Willow was grateful for, otherwise things would have gotten out of hand. As it was, Willow felt gloriously, deliriously alive as Tara moved against her, rubbing the warmth of her sex on Willow's skin through the inconsequential barrier that separated them, spreading her juices on Willow's thigh. Willow leaned in to whisper in Tara's ear.

"When I came," she breathed, her voice steady as a rock and purring with desire, "when I buried my face in the pillow to keep from screaming, it was your name on my lips. When I felt my sex squeeze my finger and get so wet, I was thinking of you."

Tara froze, her mouth open but not a sound issuing from her, even her breathing stilling for a second. Willow felt an incredible tension in the body pressed against her, then a deep shudder ran through Tara, her arms and legs trembling, her body shaking, all the air in her lungs coming out in a long, exhaustive sigh. She buried her face in Willow's neck, in her hair, and her whole body relaxed completely, as if she was in a deep sleep. Willow held her tightly, feeling the warmth and wetness spread through the fabric against her thigh.

"Willow," Tara whispered eventually.

"I've got you baby," Willow said, "I love you."

"I love you Willow," Tara murmured, "I love you…I love you…oh Willow…" She took a deep breath, and Willow felt her body coming back to its senses.

"Willow," Tara said gently, "a-are you okay? I-I mean…you don't think I…went too far…?"

"No, baby," Willow assured her, "no, you were…gods, that was amazing! No, I'm absolutely fine with it. I don't…there's nothing to regret, nothing at all."

"I just…what you told me," Tara went on, "it made me so… oh, goddess, you made me so hot…"

"I love you baby," Willow said, "my Tara, my warrior…that was the most beautiful experience of my entire life." Tara's body shuddered again, and Willow felt a different wetness on her skin, as tears slipped from Tara's closed eyes onto her neck.

"Tara?" she asked.

"It's okay," Tara murmured, "it's okay honey…I'm so happy, I just…I can't hold it in," she laughed.

"I love you," Willow said again, wondering if she would ever get tired of saying it, and deciding no. "Um, you're not…bothered, that I… when I was alone, I mean…?"

"No, gods no," Tara said, "if I hadn't had to go down to the negotiations right away, I would've…I would've brought myself to…to, um, climax…" she admitted shyly. Again, Willow found the quality of innocence to her utterly adorable – Tara, who she had just held in her arms, to whom she had whispered her most private, intimate memories as she orgasmed, was now blushing at saying 'climax'. It was…well, it was uniquely Tara.

"'Cause I wouldn't want you to feel left out," Willow went on cheerfully, making Tara laugh again.

"No," she said, "no, it's good. It's good, Willow," she continued seriously, "it's a good thing. It means we can…explore… a-and not get so worked up over time that we stop thinking properly."

"Yeah, it's good," Willow agreed. "So, you didn't get to?"

"No," Tara said, "and after the morning, I didn't need to… sitting in meetings has that effect," she grinned. "But I promise, if I do, when you're not there, I'll tell you all about it."

"What if you need to, and I am there?" Willow asked mischievously.

"In that case," Tara purred, "you get to watch."

'Heaven,' thought Willow.

"We should get up," Tara murmured, her ears and stomach perking up at the muffled sounds of breakfast from the common room beyond the thick oak door to the bedroom.

"Do we have to?" asked Willow playfully, as she continued her hobby of the last ten minutes, using her fingertip to 'draw' messages on Tara's belly, hampered slightly by her tendency to use an elaborately decorative script that made it difficult for Tara to work out which letter she was drawing. Tara hadn't complained, though, because it did result in Willow's fingers spending a lot more time stroking her abdomen, occasionally teasing up towards her cleavage for a high vertical stroke, or down to the waistband of her briefs for the low tail on a 'y' or 'g'. Willow suddenly paused in the middle of 'Amazon beauty' and sniffed the air.

"Is that nutbread?" she asked, suddenly alert. "We have to get up." Tara chuckled to herself as Willow scrambled around in bed, trying to sit up. Her laughter stilled as Willow managed it, the blankets sliding down around her waist, and Tara remembered she wasn't wearing a top. She gulped, her mouth going dry, and Willow glanced at her. Tara tried to drag her attention away from Willow's breasts, which she had woken up to find cupped in her hand, and felt pressed against herself as they lay together in bed. Seeing them, though, was new, and to Tara the sight gave a new appreciation for how perfectly formed Willow was. She was just the right size, Tara thought, large enough to have the tantalizing curves of a woman, but small enough that, if Tara wanted, she could encase Willow's breasts in her hands, without needing to splay her fingers too far. 'Just right to hold her,' Tara mused happily, 'squeeze her, tease her, then lean in and kiss…' She had a sudden urge to do just that, but she knew that now wasn't the time. It was quite an effort for Tara to finally meet Willow's gaze.

"Um," she said, unable to quite think of what to say.

"Like 'em?" Willow said in a hushed, aroused voice. Tara could only nod.

"I-I d-didn't mean to stare," she whispered, not really concerned that Willow minded too much, but slightly embarrassed by the strength of her own reaction. Willow moved her legs, knelt in front of Tara, and leaned down close to her. She glanced down for a moment at herself, which made Tara look too – her breasts were hanging just a little, changing shape only very slightly as she crouched over Tara, the position of her body enhancing her curves that last little way to Tara's idea of perfection.

"I like the way you look at me," Willow murmured. She leaned down a fraction more, kissing Tara lightly on the lips, then on the forehead, which brought her breasts close to Tara's face.

"So," Willow continued, leaning back, "whenever you want to look at me…I'm yours to look at. Among other things," she added with a sultry smile. She got to her feet and slowly walked across the room, keeping an eye on Tara who watched her all the way. Willow opened the shutters, then crossed the room again – with her back a little more arched than necessary, her arms held a little way behind her, and a seductive sway in her step. 'She's performing,' Tara realized with a thrill, 'she's showing herself to me.' Willow paused in front of Tara's clothes trunk, turning her body this way and that with her hands on her hips, making a show of deciding what to wear, and assuming a determined frown that Tara found cute beyond belief. Finally she picked a mid-length robe, made of modestly thick fabric, and wrapped it around herself, covering herself quite adequately to venture outside without drawing too much attention.

"Oh, Willow," Tara said, suddenly realizing she was still lying under the blankets – had barely moved the whole time. Willow turned, about to open the door. Tara fixed her with a stare and slowly slid her legs out of the bed, then drew back the blankets and stood up. She couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious as she turned, but the way Willow's eyes suddenly widened, and then her eyelids half-closed in an aroused stare, the way her mouth opened on its own and she ran her tongue over her lips without realizing it, made Tara feel truly special. She put a little extra swing in her step as she moved around the end of the bed and walked towards Willow, feeling her breasts sway gently as she did – Willow's eyes were riveted, unblinking, on her chest.

"Wow," Willow breathed as Tara stood in front of her. After a long pause, Willow met Tara's eyes, an expression of something like wonder on her face.

"Get me some fruit, if there's any," Tara asked.

"Sure," Willow said quietly, a contented smile playing over her features. Tara caught Willow's wrist and brought it to her chest, pressing Willow's hand to her cleavage, then lifting it and kissing her open palm.

"I love you Willow," she said simply.

"I love you," Willow replied. Tara let go of her hand, but instead of going outside, Willow pulled free the sash around her waist, took hold of her robe in both hands, pulled it back over her shoulders to bare her chest, and then enveloped Tara in a crushing hug, kissing her as if she had never tasted her lips before. The suddenness of it took Tara by surprise, and even as her mouth opened instinctively she staggered back a step, ending up with the backs of her thighs against the table in front of the mirror. Tara felt very much aroused by the way Willow was taking the lead in no uncertain terms, and allowed herself to give in completely – her tongue invited Willow's into her mouth, lavishing attention on it, her lips parted wide, letting Willow kiss her as deeply as she wished, and she leaned back a fraction over the table, her hips pressing into Willow's as she did so. Willow had an arm around Tara's waist, gripping her tightly, possessively, and Tara let her hands stroke up and down Willow's sides, letting Willow be the one to do the holding. For a moment, as Willow tilted her head sideways and kissed Tara so deep that she was sure Willow was tasting her soul, her hips and Willow's found their perfect angle, and through two thin layers of silk, Tara felt Willow's sex press against her own.

Tara whimpered into the kiss, her eyes fluttering open and closed. Willow slowed, and gently straightened herself and Tara, finally ending the kiss with a lingering caress of her tongue on the inside of Tara's lips.

"Um, breakfast," Willow said, blushing slightly. Tara nodded, catching her breath. Willow took a deep breath, pulled her robe back around herself, tied her sash, and disappeared through the door with a final radiant smile. Tara remained smiling at the door for a moment, then sat down on the table, one hand idly toying with her nipple.

'Well, if she wants to watch me, um…relieve my tension,' Tara thought, smiling shyly at the thought, 'she may get her wish before long.'

"What'ya doing?"

Tara smiled at Willow, still polishing off the last morsels of breakfast. She had finished her own a moment earlier, and had got up from the bed and sat at the table, retrieving a slim leather case from the shelf beneath it.

"Writing a letter," Tara said, opening the case and drawing out a sheet of paper. "We're sending a courier back to Kingsport with reports from Tryptin and the emissaries. It'll go on the next ship heading for the islands. I'm writing to Eponin. She's the mistress of my clan's house, um, sort of like the head of an extended family."

"Okay," Willow said, "so your clan is your family?"

"Clans are groups of families," Tara explained, dipping her pen in the inkpot. "Back in the old days, before the Amazon nation was really a single entity, clans were how we were organized. A family wasn't always big enough to defend itself on its own, but a clan could always band together, and there'd be enough warriors to see off any threat, or enough farmers and woodsmen to feed everyone, if food was scarce, that sort of thing. Our families aren't very big, compared to here – two children is usual, four is seen as quite a lot. Clans are like big families, all the children and adults live close to each other, and share everything."

"Uh-huh," said Willow, nodding. "And the clan house?"

"That's a political thing," Tara said as she wrote, "the house represents the clan, in government and among the warriors. The mistress of the clan's house – or master, sometimes – is the person the clan chooses to speak for them."

"So," Willow went on, "is Eponin part of your family as well as your clan?"

"Sort of," Tara said, "I was taken in by her family when I was very young…um, my parents died, in the Reckoning." Willow was on her feet in an instant, her arms going around Tara from behind, holding her gently.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," she said quietly, resting her head against Tara's shoulder. Tara half-turned in her chair and gave Willow a smile.

"It's okay," she said soothingly, "I sat memorial for them a long time ago. I was too young to remember them, really. Um, anyway, orphans are always taken in by someone from the clan. There's no such thing as a family of one…we're never really alone. Eponin had to travel a lot when I was young, before she became mistress, so I was raised by her husband, and her eldest daughter. Sothim, and Jenavria. And a lot of the other families were very welcoming, so I was sort of raised by the whole clan, in a way. I was never alone." 'Except when you wouldn't let yourself be otherwise,' she thought. Then she looked into Willow's eyes, and saw the concern there, the intensity of her gaze, her determination to face whatever needed to be faced, so that they would be happy together. 'Not alone anymore,' Tara thought.

Willow gave her a last squeeze before releasing her, then crossed back to the bed and the last bite of breakfast vanished. Tara continued to write, as part of her attention followed Willow around the room, watching her clean up both their plates and leave them on the side table by the door, then smooth down the blankets on the bed. She stopped writing altogether and watched Willow openly as she slipped her robe from her shoulders and dropped it back in the trunk, and retrieved her discarded dress, brushing it down before slowly stepping into it. Tara paid particular attention to the way Willow wriggled the skirt up her thighs, then put down her pen and went to help Willow do up the laces behind it, which she could reach herself, but not entirely comfortably.

"I was thinking," Willow said, holding her arms out of the way as Tara tightened her bodice, "I'll go pack up my stuff from my room and bring it here. I mean, the satchels can just go in the corner, they won't be in the way. And I know we're only here for a couple more days, but…I'd like this to be my room, you know? If that's okay?"

"Of course," Tara assured her. "I'd love that. How tight do you like this?"

"Depends how excited you want me," Willow quipped. "That's fine for now. Maybe some other time," she added in a seductive purr, "you can lace me up nice and tight."

"Maybe I will," Tara murmured in her ear. Willow turned and kissed her, letting her tongue play just a little before she sat on the bed to pull her boots on.

"I might be out when you get back," Tara said, "As soon as I finish this I'm going to have a wash, then meet the ambassadors on the Duncraig caravan. I'm not sure when I'll be back, but it shouldn't be too long."

"That's okay," Willow replied, "I'll just stay here and think of you. Work up an appetite for lunch." She licked her lips, blew a kiss to Tara, then practically skipped out of the door, leaving Tara grinning all over her face.

'She's insatiable,' Tara thought to herself, returning to her writing. 'Good thing you can't get enough of her either. Appetite for lunch, indeed.' She finished her letter, re-reading it just to make sure she had said exactly what she wanted to. She hoped a reply might reach them at Duncraig – it might take only three weeks or so, if she was lucky. Wishing for luck, she folded the letter, noticing she had accidentally pulled two pages at once from her writing case. An idea occurred to her, and she opened the case and chose a good pencil, then shrugged off the robe she had put on for breakfast and went and sat on the bed, pencil and paper in hand, glancing up at the mirror.

Willow got back to their room twenty minutes later, dumping her book satchels in the corner as promised and walking over to the table, sitting in Tara's chair. She noticed a folded piece of paper on the table, and wondered if Tara had forgotten her letter, but then she noticed something written on it, on the outside of the fold. She picked it up and read it:

'Thinking of you. – T'

With a grin she unfolded the paper, then nearly dropped it. Her eyes widened, and her legs suddenly felt weak. She unconsciously licked her lips as she studied the drawing on the page. It showed only Tara, no background, though Willow guessed she had been sitting on the bed, drawing herself from the mirror. She was naked, completely naked, not even a single line across her hips to show her briefs, and Willow was sure that wasn't artistic license. She imagined Tara posing as she had drawn herself – one arm delicately cradling her breasts, half-covering them, her hand holding her right breast firmly, the nipple of her left peeking out above the crook of her elbow; her right leg stretched out along the edge of the bed, with her other hand resting on top of it, her fingers touching her inner thigh; her left leg down, off the end of the bed, giving a perfect view as she sat side-on of the seductive curve of her waist, hip and thigh; and just visible between her legs, a couple of short strokes of a pencil, just the hint of curls of hair, tantalizing Willow's imagination.

Willow stared at the drawing for a long time, feeling her heart race, trying to memorize every detail. Her free hand started to sneak towards the slit in her skirt, but she stopped herself. 'No, not yet,' she told herself. She was pleased that she and Tara had reached an understanding about relieving their tensions, but for the moment she wanted to feel the fluttering in her stomach, and the warmth lower down, to tease herself, and wait. She folded the paper back up, and carefully placed it in the center of the journal she had started with Tara, promising herself that she would keep it close always.

Chapter 15

Tara was already smiling as she pushed open the bedroom door with her elbow, both hands being full of plates, but her smile widened when she saw Willow sitting on the ledge beneath the window, wrapped in her exquisite green battlegear. Willow looked up and smiled in return, uncrossing her legs and standing in one fluid motion.

"Lunch?" she asked. Tara put the plates on the table.

"The dining hall's full of ambassadors," she said, "I thought you might prefer a quiet lunch up here. They're a bit…" she made a face.

"Oh?" Willow said with a pained look, taking a plate and uncovering it.

"They're not so bad, I suppose," Tara allowed, "just…oh, I don't know, I guess they're used to being treated like they're at the top of the society pile. They kind of…look down on everything. They hide it well – I mean, they're diplomats – but you just get the idea that this place is sort of…rustic? Something like that." She and Willow sat facing each other on the bed, plates balanced on their knees.

"And we're stuck with them for two weeks?" Willow asked.

"Sixteen days," Tara replied, "I asked Tryptin."

"How's he holding up? Did they believe he was a real Amazon, or not?"

"Don't tell anyone," Tara said with a grin, "but I think they think he's my servant or something. No, he's fine – I think he's going to have a great time dealing with them."

"Really?"

"He told me – quietly -" Tara added, "that the best thing that can happen in a negotiation is for the other person to be sure he's smarter than you." Willow chuckled.

"So by the time we get to Duncraig, will he have gotten them to hand the Dukedom over to him?"

"Maybe," Tara said with a straight face, "that wouldn't be so bad. We've always been against establishing any real settlements on the mainland, but gaining the largest city in Westmarch…they'd probably consider this a successful mission back home. For his first time, of course." Willow laughed out loud, which Tara found delightful. "Of course, it's a ground city, so we'd have to do something about that," she went on. "Plant trees under all the houses, perhaps. Or get some of those cranes from the river dock and lift the city up, then transplant a forest in underneath it and drop it on top…" Willow moved her plate to the bed so she wouldn't tip it over as she laughed.

"Ah," she sighed, catching her breath. "I wonder what they'll think of me…some strange sorceress girl from the wild jungles of Kehjistan, I bet."

"If you're wearing that," Tara observed with an appreciative grin, "you'll probably get a few proposals out of them."

"Well, too bad," Willow said defiantly, "I'm not wearing it for them. I'm wearing it for you."

"You look angelic," Tara said softly.

"It's for the contest this afternoon," Willow said, smiling her thanks, "I promised I'd be your 'beautiful lady', remember?"

"Oh you are," Tara murmured.

"And speaking of beautiful," Willow continued, "I, um, I loved your…self-portrait." Tara blushed, and smiled shyly at her.

"I hoped you would," she said softly. Willow patted a deep, thin pouch on her belt by her hip.

"I'm keeping it safe," she promised, "it's staying with me, always."

"I'm glad," Tara said. She glanced at Willow's belt. "Is that the same belt you had in the library? I don't remember it having that pouch."

"It's standard equipment for a sorceress," Willow explained, "when you undo it, the pouches can slide on and off, depending on what you need to carry. So, potions," she touched a row of tiny padded cylinders to the left of the silver buckle, "spell components," various small pouches of varying sizes to the right, "pen and paper," a cylinder on her left hip, "scrolls," behind the paper, "charms and runestones," around the back of her waist, "and our journal," she finished, tapping the new pouch on her right hip. "You remembered what my belt looked like?" she added, arching an eyebrow.

"It was close to eye level when you were up on the ladder," Tara replied casually, "I saw in on my w-way to other things. So, what do all those do?"

"Well, the spell components are to help out with complicated or powerful spells," Willow said, "in my case, they're things that help channel cold energy. I've got ice crystals from Mount Arreat, they never melt unless you actually put them in a fire, which releases their energy. A bone shard from a phantom, the Order collects them whenever they have to dispel one – the plane they come from doesn't have heat, so their remains are useful for cold spells. Dried dewflowers, they only grow in freezing temperatures, instead of sunlight they draw in cold and turn it into energy. A couple of powders and liquids, they're pretty generic, all sorceresses can use them, for whatever kind of spell they need. The charms and just to help control and amplify magical power, they're all fashioned specifically for cold. The runestones are similar to the ones we saw before, you arrange them in patterns to create what we call spell frameworks, I guess they're kind of like the way you create a focus, with Amazon magic. They sort of make a 'shape', like a mould, for magical power, it makes it easier to do complicated spells. Um, the scrolls are simple things like detecting magic, creating light – they're not elemental magic, but all the power comes from the scroll itself, not from the person using them, so they're not dangerous to use. There's a limit to how powerful a written spell can be, though, so it only works with simple spells. The potions are the same, they're magical, but you don't need to use magic to use them – they're for healing, and replenishing magical power if I need to cast a lot of spells in a hurry. And… I'm just going on and on, aren't I?"

"It's fascinating," said Tara. "We use some things like those charms. They're not as common, most of them are passed down in families…It sounds like they might be similar. And our weapons can be crafted to help in creating a focus. Um, y-you can have a look, if you like," she offered.

"Thanks," Willow said. "I noticed that first day, your spear has electrum in it."

"It's not really mine," Tara said, "it's Solari's, it's been in her family for generations. Th-there aren't many like it, it's supposed to be attuned to Zerae. Its ritual name is 'storm-caller'. A lot of old weapons have more than one name," she explained, "depending on how they're used. The ritual name is for weapons that can be used in ceremonies to honor the goddesses they're made for. Outside ceremonies, it's 'Silverstrike'."

"Storm-caller," repeated Willow, "I can guess why. Zerae gives you lightning energy, right?" Tara nodded. "Electrum is used to make equipment for lightning sorceresses, too. It's very powerful, and difficult to enchant without contaminating it. Your spear has pure electrum all through it – it's like a magic staff, sort of. And the patterns it's shaped into are probably along the same lines as runes, like a permanent spell built-in."

"Oh," said Tara, surprised – she knew Silverstrike was a noted artifact among her people, but she had to admit she thought it was more of a cultural respect. "Does your staff have things like that crafted into it?" she asked.

"Most sorceresses have staves made for them," Willow said, "hardened ash-wood mixed with sandstone powder for fire, obsidian and night-oil resin for lightning, Arreat ice for cold. Ember gave me my staff, though." She shrugged. "We don't rely on staves anyway, a lot of our training is done without them. She asked me to take this staff, rather than an ice one, so I did. She didn't say why, just that it was a good choice."

"What does it have in it?" Tara asked.

"Volcanic rock and black iron," Willow said with another shrug. "It's covered by the wood, but there are spells you can do to find out what something's made of. It's a pretty good staff, it helps control energy. A normal ice staff would be more likely to amplify power, and sometimes it'd get a bit out of hand and you'd have to just flare off the power – in the case of cold magic, it's easy, you just spread the cold out through the air around you, really thin so all it does is drop the temperature a little. Lightning can be flared into passive effects – they say if you're good you can channel the flare back into something like an energy shield, that's kind of like chill armor, but for lightning. Fire takes a lot of practice, it's a bit dangerous really. Ember once said the best thing you can do if you need to flare off fire energy is to point your staff into the air and wait for the jet of flame to die down."

"Yikes," Tara observed.

"Yeah, I know," Willow agreed, "fire sorceresses spend a lot of time practicing control, so they don't accidentally call up more power than they need for a particular spell. Us cold girls have it easy," she admitted with a grin, "we just wear something warm if we're practicing a new spell. I've never had to flare, using this staff, though. It's like all the power it doesn't have in amplifying cold, it has in controlling energy – even fire and lightning. We practice with powers other than our chosen elements," she explained, "just enough to do simple effects if we really need to, and to interfere with anyone casting against us using those powers. If you know fire magic, it's possible to undo a fire spell even if someone else is casting it. Same with lightning – they used to get us to pair off, and have one of us cast a spell, just into the air, and the other one try to undo the spell. Whoever made this staff must have had that in mind, it's brilliant at shutting down magic. Some of the other girl called it 'spell breaker'."

"Th-that's a good power," Tara said earnestly.

"Yeah, it is," Willow agreed. "Just my luck the only thing that's ever attacked me wasn't using spells." She gave Tara a smile, just to reassure her that she wasn't dwelling on those events.

"So," she said, putting her empty plate aside, "you like this outfit, huh?"

"It'd be beautiful on anyone," Tara said, "on you, i-it's divine." She put her own plate aside and moved over to sit next to Willow, who she was pleased to see was blushing at the compliment.

"See," she went on, touching the fabric wrapped around Willow's arm, "it matches your eyes…and even where y-you're covered up, I can still see the shape of you. Arms," she trailed her finger to Willow's wrist, then skipped to her hip nearby, "and legs…perfectly curved." She slid her finger in one of the folds in Willow's skirt and followed it up, meeting her belt just as she got close to the center of her waist.

"I'll have to wear it more often," Willow whispered with a grin. "I always felt kind of shy wearing it…you know, the lack of anything in the middle…"

"No, no," Tara murmured, gently taking hold of Willow's shoulders and laying her down, "that's the best part. All this lovely Willow," she slowly ran her fingers up and down Willow's stomach, from her waist to the edge of her top, just between the bottom of her breasts, and back down again.

"Mmm," Willow replied, "you like?"

"Oh yes," Tara said in a hushed voice, "I like. You have a truly beautiful belly." She chuckled. "That sounds strange. But it's true." She leaned down and lay her head gently on Willow's stomach, feeling the warm body beneath her, and the soft motion as Willow breathed in and out. "Mmm," she moaned, "I could stay here forever…"

"I could get you a pillow if you liked," Willow teased, her hand stroking Tara's hand.

"But I can't do this with a pillow," Tara said, turning her head and kissing Willow's navel. She felt Willow shiver beneath her, and she adjusted her position without taking her lips from Willow's skin. With her arms around Willow's waist, holding her tightly, she poked her tongue into Willow's navel and pushed gently, wriggling her tongue around.

"Oh!" Willow exclaimed. Tara continued her kiss, feeling Willow's breathing speed up, then lifted her head up with a final lick at Willow's abdomen and grinned up at her.

"Have I mentioned," Willow said, in a slightly awe-struck voice, "that you turn me on like nothing in the world?" Tara wriggled up to lie beside Willow, feeling shy and proud at the same time.

"I-I might have got that impression," she admitted. Willow rolled over half on top of her and kissed her, starting on her lips, making her way up to Tara's ear which she gently nibbled and sucked, then down beneath her jaw and back up to her lips. By the time Willow's tongue made contact with hers, Tara had closed her eyes and was moaning quietly. Willow drew out the kiss for a long time, alternately driving deep into Tara's mouth, and surrendering completely, letting Tara take full possession of hers, before finally she lay back beside her.

"The very next time I see your lovely naked stomach," Willow promised, "I am going to show you exactly how wonderful that feels."

"Promise?" Tara teased.

"Promise," Willow said.

"So, are you enjoying riding more now?"

"Absolutely," Willow said, holding Tara tightly around the waist as they rode down towards Maresburg. Stefan was a few lengths ahead of them, leading the way along a road that ran down from the castle's hill to the farmlands below, away to the west of the forests Tara had already seen. Two of the Baron's guards followed at a respectable distance – their presence was more a courtesy than a precaution, the Baron having assured Tryptin that Maresburg, of all the towns in the surrounding lands, was among the most law-abiding.

"Maybe we should work up to a gallop?" suggested Tara innocently.

"Hey now," Willow protested, "let's not get ambitious! This is just fine the way it is." Tara smiled to herself and kept Kestrel at a quick walk, following the pace Stefan was setting. The old archer was quite at home, exchanging waves and greetings with the people they passed on the road, driving wagons and carts up towards the castle, or out on foot on their way somewhere.

"Yes, it certainly is," Tara said to herself, keeping the reins in one hand while her other discreetly stroked Willow's arms around her waist. She felt very relaxed, more than she would have expected of herself, given the slight flutter of nerves she had experienced when they were standing in the courtyard, and a stablehand had walked Kestrel over to her. Last time she had set out like this, she had ended up catching a crossbow bolt a couple of inches from her head. But she had calmed herself, taking reassurance from the knowledge that her attacker, and the man who had instructed him, were both locked away behind several feet of solid stone and steel bars.

It seemed no time at all until they were riding through the outskirts of Maresburg, which consisted mainly of a crossroads, widened into a town square, with wooden buildings clustered around it, growing outwards west, north and south, and backed up against the beginning of the castle's hill to the east. The closer they got to the center of town, the more impressive the buildings were – on one corner of the square was a large two-storey building, which Tara took for a town hall from the elaborate carved wood coat of arms above its doors. Stefan led them over to stables opposite the hall, and they left their horses there to continue on foot. The town's population was already out in force, gathered around a the of outdoor taverns near the town well, obviously awaiting the beginning of the contest. Some of them gave a cheer or lifted their mugs at the sight of Stefan, and a number began drifting across the square and along one of the roads. Tara and Willow followed Stefan, with their guards a few paces to either side. Tara noticed the Baron's master at arms in the crowd, in the middle of a conversation with someone, and she wondered if he was there for fun or to keep an eye on things. Either way, she felt safe – the man always seemed perpetually aware of everything around him every time she had seen him.

Beyond a few storehouses and shops the ground to the west of the road opened up in a grassy expanse, with wooden stands on two sides, and a number of benches and tables already in place, occupied by the early arrivals who were enjoying the end of lunch, cheering or making loud suggestions to the archers who were already at practice, firing at targets set up on the far side of the field. One of the stands was larger and taller than the others, with a brightly-colored shade cloth stretched between the tops of poles at its corners, and a number of well-dressed townsfolk seated inside. Stefan exchanged greetings with a few of the spectators and archers who wandered over to meet him, then motioned for Willow and Tara to follow him over to the covered stand.

"My wife," he said proudly, introducing them to a tall woman about his age who smiled at the sight of him and got down from her seat. She was dressed in a simple but well-made dress that showed off an admirable figure, and her white hair was tied back in a single braid that trailed to her waist.

"Tara, an Amazon warrior," Stefan said to her, "and Willow, a sorceress. Ladies, Bethany, my wife."

"How do you do?" Bethany asked warmly, curtseying to both of them.

"Very well, thank you," Tara said, bowing. Willow tried a curtsey, and found it wasn't that difficult.

"We've all been looking forward to seeing your skill with the bow," Bethany went on to Tara, after raising an eyebrow at Willow's battlegear. "Our daughter is around here somewhere," she added, glancing around the crowd. A horn sounded from the field, and the archers ceased fire and went to retrieve their arrows.

"I'll introduce you all afterwards," Stefan promised, "it's time for our contest. Miss Willow, would you care for a seat? Normally I'd just be a spectator myself, I see they've saved me a seat as usual."

"Thank you," Willow said, stepping up onto the platform beside Bethany, who was still a full head taller than her. Stefan bowed elaborately to his wife, and she smiled and drew a lace handkerchief from her sleeve, which he took and tucked into his belt.

"Thank you, my lady," he said with obvious affection. While Bethany was smiling at him, Willow turned to Tara.

"My warrior?" she said with a grin. As soon as Tara's eyes were on her, she quickly reached up beneath the hem of her top and drew out a silk cloth, thankful she had thought of it earlier, and been able to stuff it into her cleavage in one of the brief moments Tara hadn't been watching her.

"My lady," Tara said, accepting the silk, and touching it to her lips before tucking a corner of it in her belt. Willow smiled and sat down next to Bethany, as Tara and Stefan headed towards the firing line.

"You're a sorceress, Miss Willow?" Bethany asked politely.

"That's right, ma'am," she replied.

"My word," Bethany said, "we don't see many mages around here. Well, apart from that dreadful man up at the castle. I never liked him. Related to an old family, you know, supposedly a noble line, but if you want my opinion, there's not much to recommend them nowadays. And Miss Tara, the Amazon, you're traveling together?"

"Yes," Willow said, "we met in Kingsport, and we're on the caravan heading to Duncraig."

"Well, that's quite a journey," Bethany said, "and you know, we hear such things about Duncraig, it should be quite the experience for you. But I imagine you'll be enjoying the journey as it is. You and she…I'm not sure how to put this, you're close?"

"Oh," said Willow, realizing what she was getting at, "um, yes. We, um…yes."

"She looks at you very fondly," Bethany said. She and Willow shared a smile, then Bethany was distracted at the arrival of the rest of her family, and spent a moment introducing them to Willow: their daughter Erin, a tall, raven-haired woman very much in the mould of her mother, her husband Rudi, an amiable man with a charming smile. In her arms Erin held a baby, her and Rudi's son Werner. Rudi was full of enthusiasm at seeing an Amazon archer – her skill, not the archer herself, Willow gathered – and Erin listened to his ramblings with affectionate indulgence while she loosened the laces of her bodice enough to feed their baby. Willow was slightly surprised at that, but no-one seemed to pay her the least attention, except for Rudi himself whose eyes occasionally dipped downwards. Bethany passed the time asking Willow about her battlegear, wondering if it would be possible to buy something of the sort in Kingsport. After a few minutes another horn sounded, and the crowd settled back to watch the contest.

One of the townsfolk, chosen for his loud voice, Willow guessed, informed the crowd that they were to witness a contest of archery between Stefan, noted citizen of Kingsport and master of archers at the Baron's court, and Tara, a warrioress of the fabled Amazons. While he spoke, going into some detail about Stefan's accomplishments for the benefit of those who didn't know him, and reciting a few exciting tales about Amazons – Willow could just make out Tara's amused, resigned expression, but the speaker confined himself to various tales of dubious accuracy about the Amazons' prowess in battle – a team of men busied themselves dragging an elaborate wooden contraption out into the middle of the line of targets. It consisted of a pedestal framework, inside which were various wooden gears connected by heavy, knotted ropes to a pulley system that vanished behind a sturdy wooden shield several meters long. Once this was in place the men retreated behind the shield, safe from stray arrows. From where she was sitting, Willow could just make out one of them, holding the end of the rope. Another man carried a target up to the pedestal, fixing it in place before retreating.

The horn player sounded the beginning of the contest once the participants had been introduced, and at a yell from behind the shield wall the men began to pull on the rope, turning it in a loop that ran through the pedestal. The target began to pivot, as Stefan nocked his arrow and stared levelly down the field at it. Willow found herself quite caught up in the moment, her stare fixed on Stefan's arrowhead as he slowly raised his bow and drew it back. He waited a moment, taking his time as he stared down the length of his arrow at the target, turning away from him and back again. There was a collective intake of breath as he let fly, and then the men pulling the rope stopped, a horn sounded to ensure neither archer fired, and someone scurried out from behind the shield to check the arrow embedded in the target.

"A half!" Willow heard him call, repeated by the loud-voiced announcer to general applause. "Half and straight!" The crowd cheered, Willow joining in the polite but enthusiastic applause from the stands.

"Very close to the bullseye," Bethany explained for Willow, "and it went in while the target was facing dead ahead. It's a pity your Amazon friend hasn't had a chance to practice on the machine, Stefan says it's a difficult thing to master."

The men at the target pulled out Stefan's arrow and took cover as the others began to pull their rope again, spinning the target slowly. Willow stared at Tara, noting every detail of her posture, the intensity of her concentration, as she nocked her arrow and drew back her bow. She aimed slowly, letting the arrowhead drift up and around to point at the target, and for a moment she was absolutely still. Willow had to admit, she was actually a little aroused, as well as simply impressed, by the image of Tara standing straight, her feet apart a little way, her shapely legs braced, her arms motionless as she held back the string of her powerful bow, by necessity a little further from her body than Stefan had. She had leaned her head sideways, her cheek touching her wrist as she sighted along her arrow. There was just the tiniest movement, her fingers releasing the string, and as Willow kept her eyes on Tara, she saw that she barely moved a muscle for a moment after she fired.

"Center and one degree!" came the call from the other end of the field. A surprised cheer went up from the crowd, and Willow was sure she saw Tara catch a glimpse of her as she shot out of her seat, clapping her hands above her head.

"Bullseye," Bethany said with some admiration, "and very close to straight. I'd say they're even so far. Your friend is very good." There was some activity around the pedestal involving pieces of wood being set in place, and when everyone retreated the target was in the center of a six-foot-wide cylinder of wooden slats, with gaps in it at the same height as the center of the target. When the horn sounded and the men began pulling the rope again, both the target and its guard began to turn, in opposite directions so that the target and the gaps in the cylinder lined up perfectly only every few turns.

Tara went first this time, standing exactly as she had before. Again Willow watched her, ignoring the rest of the crowd, and not really paying very much attention to the target either. She smiled to herself at the strength and the poise in Tara's body, the perfection of her stance and her concentration. She indulged a little fantasy about standing right behind Tara as she drew back her bow, pressing her body against her and feeling the coiled, controlled strength in her. Willow was snapped out of it as Tara fired, and the crowd cheered at once, seeing that her arrow had not hit the guard, but had gone through to the target.

"Center!" the man called, to renewed cheering. Stefan nodded to Tara as he passed her on his way to the line, as one professional admiring another, then the horn sounded and the cheering died down to murmurs. Stefan took his time firing, waiting almost a full minute before letting his arrow fly, but it was evidently worth it, as the call "Center!" came back.

"He's in fine form," Bethany observed, "he always has a good day when he makes that one." The announcer called the last round, and when the horn sounded an upright post had been added to the field, thirty feet in front of the target. It was a little taller than the bullseye itself, and its top was a torch that had been lit.

"Those wraps around the arrows are soaked in oil," Bethany explained, as they watched both Stefan and Tara hand one of their arrows to a man who carefully bound rags around them, just behind the arrowheads. "They have to pass through the torch, catch fire, and hit the target. I've seen arrows go through without lighting, but Stefan says the trick is in drawing the bow. Having the post there means the arrow has to be at exactly that height when it passes, so the archer has to fire at just the right speed to flatten the curve out over the post and into the target. Spend thirty-five years married to an archer," she added with a grin, "and you pick up a few things."

Stefan was first, but he didn't wait as long as he did for his previous shot. He drew, aimed and fired with barely a pause – "Cocky rascal," Bethany observed affectionately – the torch flared as the arrow passed it, and then, with its tip alight, it was shuddering in the center of the target. The call confirmed that the shot had been a bullseye, and even the higher-class spectators in the stands were on their feet applauding. Tara looked quite impressed, but Willow smiled at her when she glanced towards the main stand.

Tara took her place, and was just drawing back her bow when the horn sounded, signaling not to fire. Willow glanced along the length of the field, and saw that the torch had gone out, Stefan's arrow having scattered the cinders at its top somewhat, and the wind, gusting irregularly across the field, had done the rest. A man was scurrying out from behind the shield wall with a lit torch.

"Stand clear!" Willow heard Tara call out. The horn player looked confused for a moment, then blew the signal. The man with the torch frowned, looked down the field for clarification, then shrugged and retreated. Once he was safely out of the line of fire Tara chose another arrow, with no cloth around it, and took aim again.

Willow had a vague idea what she had in mind, but the rest of the crowd were taken completely by surprise as Tara's arrow burst into a streak of flame the moment it left her bow. There was a flare as it passed the top of the post, setting fire to it, and then it was through the guard and embedded in the target, still burning. The scorer quickly doused the flame and checked the arrow's position.

"Center!"

The crowd went wild, even Bethany standing to applaud. Stefan escorted Tara back to the stands, smiling as they were stopped every couple of steps as various spectators bowed and congratulated Tara. Someone even produced a handful of roses, very prettily bound in a white cloth, which Tara accepted graciously, looking slightly shy as she did so. Bethany, Willow, Erin and Rudi got down from the stand to meet the pair as they cleared the crowd.

"Quite incredible," Bethany exclaimed to Tara, making her blush.

"My lady," Stefan said, "I'm sorry I couldn't win for you today." He said it with a smile, but also honest regret. Bethany curtseyed to Tara before fixing her gaze on her husband.

"Come here, you," she said, smiling. They shared a kiss, provoking another cheer from some of the spectators nearby. Tara finished thanking Erin and Rudi, who congratulated her as well, and turned to Willow.

"My lady," she said, holding out the roses to Willow.

"My warrior," Willow said, taking them. She and Tara stood there for a moment, staring into each other's eyes, until Bethany leaned over to Willow.

"Oh go on, girl," she said, "no-one minds." Willow smiled, Tara blushed, and they kissed for a moment, slowly and tenderly, though with their lips closed, in deference to being in public.

"What did you think of Amazon magic?" Tara asked, as she and Willow ate dinner in the common room. Some of the other Amazons were also at the long table, engrossed in conversations of their own, though Tryptin and his personal staff were dining with the Duncraig ambassadors.

"I'm impressed," Willow said earnestly, "you know, I didn't feel a thing?" Tara looked confused. "I don't mean I didn't feel anything to watch you," Willow corrected herself hastily, "I mean… normally a fire spell like that would give off, um, 'echoes' that any mage within a hundred feet would be able to feel. The better the mage, the more controlled the spell, so the less wasted energy there is."

"Well, I wasn't actually doing the magic," Tara admitted, "that was Hefaetrus. So maybe that's why you didn't sense it?"

"It's still impressive," Willow insisted, "you know, I think your magic might be the most controlled I've ever seen. I guess maybe because you concentrate entirely on the focus, on the shape of the spell, where a sorceress has to form the spell and power it at the same time. It's a bit of a juggling act," she added with a grin. "When you were training, was it unusual for spells to get a bit out of hand? Like, the fire being too strong, or things like that?"

"I-I don't think so," Tara said, "I never heard of anything like that happening with magic. It's usually just a case of doing it right or not. If you do it, it works, if not…well, you just fire a normal arrow, and nothing happens."

"Controlled magic," Willow said, "my tutors would be amazed."

"Well, it's not always controlled," Tara admitted, "I remember once when some of the trainees were practicing with explosive fire, they accidentally set one of the storehouses on fire. Their aim was a bit wild." Willow chuckled at the thought.

"I bet you never did that," she said.

"No," Tara said, "I was always very…I'd be very careful when I was practicing. And mostly I liked practicing just the basic skills, aiming and speed and concentration. I kind of had a knack for picking up the focusing quickly, so I didn't have to spend a lot of time working on that. Just the physical elements of it."

"Speaking of physical elements," Willow murmured quietly, "you know you looked very sexy out there today." Tara raised a disbelieving eyebrow. "Oh yeah!" Willow insisted. "all…disciplined, and controlled, and sleek and strong…the way your arms were so still when you were holding your bowstring back. That must take some strength?"

"Um, yeah," Tara said with a shy grin, "it's a strong bow, it takes a bit of getting used to…there's a few others in our baggage, lighter bows, I was thinking of getting one of those out for you to use, when I show you how…" Willow pushed her plate aside and leaned towards Tara.

"I can't wait," she said in a quiet, sultry voice. "So, how will you do it? Demonstrate first? I know, I'll stand right behind you while you draw the string, and I'll lean against you, and reach around your shoulders and feel your arms, all the tension running through your muscles…so I know how to hold the bow, of course."

"Of course," Tara said with a wry grin. She got up and held out a hand to Willow, who gladly took it and followed her to their room.

"And then it'll be my turn," Willow went on, once Tara had shut the door behind them. She mimed holding a bow, as she had seen Tara do it, left arm outstretched, right bent back, her cheek resting against her hand.

"Looks like you've got the idea," Tara quipped.

"Mmm-hmm," Willow said, "and you can stand right behind me… like that," she added, as Tara obligingly stood so close her chest was pressed firmly into Willow's back. "And make sure I'm holding it just right," Willow went on. Tara put her arms around Willow, holding each of her wrists in position. She adjusted her stance so that her feet were beside Willow's, and their legs were touching all the way down to the floor.

"And then," she breathed into Willow's ear, "you let go." Willow opened the fingers of her right hand obediently.

"You know," she said, "I think what most impressed me was how focused you were out there today. I bet nothing was distracting you."

"Concentration is very important," Tara conceded, keeping Willow in her arms.

"So maybe I should practice that?" Willow asked. "If I can keep hold of my bow, while you try to distract me…" she left a deliberate, suggestive pause there, "then we'll know I'm ready." Tara chuckled to herself, and the sound made Willow shiver in anticipation.

"You mean, distract you like this?" Tara asked innocently, before placing a quick kiss on the side of Willow's neck. Willow smiled, but didn't move. Tara ran the tip of her tongue up to the side of Willow's jaw, then kissed her earlobe.

"Very good," she said, as Willow trembled but held her imaginary bow in an almost-steady grip. She sucked on Willow's earlobe for a long time, tickling it with her tongue. Willow moaned quietly, a long, pure note emanating from her throat, ending only when Tara finished.

"Let's see how good you really are," Tara whispered. "An Amazon can hit a target she's not even watching. Look this way." Willow obediently turned her face towards Tara, away from the line of fire of her bow. Tara kissed her, starting with a quick, feather-light touch on her lips, then again, longer this time, then her lips opened, as did Willow's, and their tongues played. The sensations almost caused Willow to give in and drop her arms, but she held out, even when Tara let out a deep moan which thrilled Willow to her core.

Willow guessed what was coming next, and barely flinched when she felt Tara's hands on her bare sides, stroking lightly up and down. She knew Tara could get her in an instant by tickling her, but apparently that wasn't what Tara had in mind, for she kept the pressure of her fingertips just enough to avoid causing an involuntary reaction. Her fingers ventured around Willow's body, over her stomach, back and forth, moving slowly higher with each pass. She moaned, louder than she had been meaning to, when Tara's fingers found the edge of her top and snuck underneath.

"Oh gods please yes!" she exclaimed, reaching behind herself to hold Tara tightly against her as Tara's hands pushed under the fabric of her clothing and cupped her breasts. Tara held her firmly, squeezing gently, rhythmically, massaging Willow's breasts as she felt her nipples harden in her palms.

"You dropped your bow," she murmured, separating her lips just a fraction from Willow's.

"Then I need…more practice," Willow said hoarsely, arching her back to push herself into Tara's hands, and grind her hips against Tara's. "Later," Willow amended, "for now…why don't you…keep distracting me…"

Tara smiled and captured Willow's lips again, marveling at her breasts. 'I was right,' she thought gleefully, 'just the right size.' She rubbed her palms around in circular motions, stimulating Willow's nipples as she gently squeezed and released with her fingers. The way Willow was moving against her was intoxicating. Emboldened by Willow's response to her, Tara tightened her hold and kneaded Willow's breasts firmly, pushing them together each time she squeezed. Willow's lips fell completely open beneath her kiss, and her legs began to tremble seriously.

"I-I think," Willow managed to say in between kisses, "I'm gonna fall over."

"I won't let you fall," Tara promised. Willow surrendered herself to Tara's arms, reaching down with her own hands to grip Tara's bottom through her leather skirt. Tara thrilled at the feeling, devouring Willow's mouth.

"Oh gods Tara," Willow moaned, as Tara took a break to plant kisses along her neck, "it's too much…"

Tara's hands instantly stilled, though she didn't withdraw them. She wouldn't allow herself to even hint to Willow that she might ignore anything she said, but at the same time she suspected that if she broke off contact completely Willow would feel somehow guilty, as if she had been wrong to say anything, and she never wanted Willow to think that.

"Do you want me to stop?" she asked gently.

"No…I don't know," Willow admitted, "gods, I don't want you to stop…but you're making me so hot…"

"I love you Willow," Tara said, "if you want to stop now, I promise I'll go to sleep next to you the happiest woman in the world. Nothing can change that."

"Oh gods I love you," Willow said, "you're the most perfect lover…I don't want to stop, I just…if you keep touching me like that, I'm going to have to…you're making me so hot I need to, um…a-and I know you're not ready for that, not yet, I mean, I'm not ready for it either…"

"Y-you could, um, t-touch yourself," Tara suggested quietly. "Like y-you told me this morning…and I'll keep touching you, and hold you while you…while you come…" Willow took a deep breath, trying to contain herself.

"Gods Tara," she whispered, "a-are you sure? I mean…I don't have to-"

"I'm sure," Tara insisted, "I…when you held me this morning, I've never felt so loved, so much a, a part of you. I-I want you to feel that too…"

"Tara," Willow breathed, "you're sure?"

"Please," Tara said. Willow closed her eyes and kissed Tara so deeply that she felt her legs buckle, and sat down heavily on the bed behind her, with Willow still in her arms. If Willow noticed, she didn't mind, she just continued to kiss Tara voraciously. Tara resumed her attention to Willow's breasts, starting slowly but quickly building to the pace she had been setting before. Willow, sitting in her lap, writhed in her embrace, her hips rocking and jolting as she moved. Tara felt Willow's hands leave her bottom, where they had nearly been pinned in place as she sat down, and opened an eye to see Willow reaching for the clasp on the slim silver collar around her neck. She undid it and let it fall to the ground, her hands grasping at the fabric around her chest and pulling it aside, baring herself to Tara's ministrations.

"Oh gods Tara," Willow moaned, "oh gods, that is so good, you're making me so hot, please don't stop, please, oh gods, Tara, gods…" She captured Tara's lips again, her tongue venturing into Tara's mouth just long enough to ensure a response before completely surrendering, giving herself over to Tara completely. At the same time her left hand was covering Tara's, pressing it hard into her breast, while her right fumbled with the catch on her belt. She managed to undo it, pushing the top of her skirt down to reveal her underwear.

"Mmmyou sure?" she asked, not entirely disengaging from the kiss.

"Come for me, baby," Tara breathed. Willow's fingers crept beneath the waistband of her briefs, stretching it out to make room for her hand.

"Yesss…" she sighed as her hand clamped down between her legs. Tara watched, eyes downcast as she kept kissing Willow, seeing the movements of her wrist, feeling her hips rock in time to them. She concentrated on her own hands, steadily increasing the tempo of her intense massage of Willow's breasts. She could actually smell the scent of Willow's arousal, and it excited her like nothing else, driving her to pour all her passion into the woman in her arms, kissing her, caressing her, arousing her, and holding her as she drew closer to release, letting out little high-pitched moans into Tara's mouth with every thrust of her fingers.

Willow orgasmed with a deep, lusty groan, almost a growl, her lips pressed against Tara's, her hips bucking so hard she actually rose up off Tara's lap for a second. Tara leaned back, carrying Willow with her as she lay on the bed, finishing up with Willow sprawled on top of her, breathing in short gasps as she held Tara's hand firmly to her chest, her legs splayed apart off the edge of the bed, the sleeves of her top down around her elbows.

"Oh gods Tara," she gasped, "not much longer, I promise…oh I need you so much…"

"I know baby," Tara assured her, "not much longer." Willow took a deep breath, her body totally relaxed.

"I'm not squashing you, am I?" she asked after a moment. Tara laughed, making Willow giggle as the movement in Tara's chest bounced her up and down slightly.

"I love the way you feel lying on me," Tara confessed.

"Mmm, you feel pretty good yourself," Willow replied, "even if you are still wearing way too much."

"I'd get undressed," Tara countered, "except there's a delicious sorceress lying on top of me."

"Delicious, huh?" Willow teased. "Am I in danger of being eaten?" Tara felt the blush on Willow's cheek as she realized what she had said, but only chuckled. Feeling bold and light-headed, she reached down with the hand that wasn't underneath Willow's and took hold of her other wrist. Slowly, giving Willow every opportunity to pull back, she pulled Willow's hand out from underneath her underwear and raised it to her lips. Willow was staring at her in amazement, but gave no indication that she wanted Tara to stop. Tara opened her lips and reached out with her tongue, touching it to the tip of Willow's forefinger. Then she gently moved Willow's hand closer and took her fore and index fingers into her mouth, her eyes fixed on Willow all the while.

Willow's taste was something Tara could never have been prepared for, like nothing she had ever experienced before. For a fraction of a second it was strange to her, then pleasure washed over her and she was sucking and licking Willow's fingers as if her life depended on it, intent on savoring every last succulent drop of Willow's arousal. When she was finally satisfied that she had cleaned Willow's fingers completely she let them go, gently maneuvering Willow's hand so that she could chase down every trace of her juice that had made its way onto her palm and her other fingers. She held Willow's stare the entire time, not blinking once.

When she finally let Willow's little finger slide out from between her lips, Willow eyes were as wide as she had ever seen, and her mouth was hanging open. Tara hoped she hadn't shocked Willow – well, not in a bad way – but Willow had never given even the slightest resistance. Now she stared at Tara as if she was something supernatural.

"Gods," she breathed, "Tara…you are so sexy I'm going to burst." Tara laughed, and Willow joined her, rolling off her and just as quickly climbing back on top of her, facing down this time so she could hug Tara back as Tara's arms went around her waist.

"We should get some sleep," Tara suggested once they had calmed down.

"Yeah," Willow smiled. She kissed Tara, which went on for some time, then finally and reluctantly got up and discarded her disarrayed battlegear. Having so little to take off, with her top already half-off and her skirt falling around her knees, she was already naked save for her briefs by the time Tara was sitting up and undoing the straps on the tops of her boots.

"Let me," Willow said, kneeling down in front of Tara and replacing her hands on the buckles. She undid Tara's boots and slid them off, then undid the straps holding the bracer on her left forearm and laid it aside. With a gently tug she brought Tara to her feet, and loosened the laces on either side of her armor. She managed, by standing on tip-toes, to get it all the way up over her head and arms, then laid it out on top of Tara's clothes trunk and came back to stand very close to her as she loosened her skirt. She let it fall to the floor, staring into Tara's eyes.

"I believe I have a promise to keep," Willow said, kneeling down again in front of Tara. Tara wondered for a moment what she was doing, then remembered at the same instant as Willow planted her lips around Tara's navel and thrust her tongue into it, squirming around with relish. Tara squealed and fell gleefully back onto the bed, with Willow holding her around the waist to stop her getting away as she continued to twist her tongue around. Finally she stopped, letting Tara catch her breath, and gave Tara's stomach one last kiss before she got back up and put out the candles. Tara held the blankets up for her as she returned from closing the shutters, and curled around her as she lay down, settling into their accustomed position, Willow on her side with Tara behind her, arm around her waist.

"I love you Tara," Willow said contentedly.

"I know," Tara replied, "I love you too." They lay together for a moment, silent and at peace.

"You never answered my question," Willow said suddenly.

"What was is?" asked Tara.

"Am I in danger of being eaten?" Willow purred.

"Mmm-hmm," Tara murmured, "absolutely. It's just a matter of time." Willow giggled, and wriggled in Tara's arms, teasing her. Tara kissed the back of her neck and held her tightly around the waist.

"Good-night," Willow said softly once they had settled down again.

"Sweet dreams," Tara replied.

"Hope so," Willow said, "but I know it'll be a sweet waking-up."

Chapter 16

Willow stirred, stretched slightly, and snuggled contentedly into the warmth of Tara wrapped around her from behind.

"Morning, love," Tara murmured in her ear, making her shiver gently.

"Morning, love," Willow repeated. "How long've you been awake?" Tara chuckled quietly to herself.

"Long enough to watch my beautiful magical lover sleep," she admitted. Willow sighed contentedly and wriggled slowly, rubbing her leg against Tara's.

"Your lover," she said, "I like that…"

"You said it last night," Tara reminded her.

"I know," Willow said, "but now, all calm and everything, it's different…we're lovers…gods that is beautiful." She ran her fingers over the back of Tara's hand, which had once again crept over her breast during the night. "There's no stopping you, is there?" she asked lightly.

"Amazon warriors are unstoppable," Tara answered seriously, "so don't even try."

"The thought never crossed my mind," Willow grinned. She turned over in Tara's embrace, facing her. "Tara?" she asked.

"Yes?"

"What we did last night…you were right," she confessed, "I felt so much a part of you. Like there was nothing separating us, nothing I had to, you know, keep from you…it was beautiful."

"I know," Tara said, "I felt the same. I still do."

"Me too," Willow replied quickly, "a-and…I know we said we'd take things slow, well, it was mainly me saying that, 'cause I wanted to be…I don't know, really, I guess I wanted to feel the way I do now. And I do. So, what I mean is…if you want…I'm ready, Tara. I-I want to be your lover, completely."

"Oh goddess Willow so do I," Tara whispered. Willow felt a rush of emotion, love, relief – she wondered why she had even been nervous, now – anticipation and desire all mingled together. Before she realized it Tara's lips were on hers, and she threw herself into the kiss whole-heartedly. For long moments she and Tara were locked together, exploring each other’s mouths, Tara occasionally biting gently on Willow's lip, Willow sucking on her tongue whenever she managed to capture it.

"Willow," Tara breathed, breaking away for a moment, "we should…not just yet…"

"Oh I'm sorry!" Willow blurted out, "I- you don't have to, just because I'm…I'll wait, it's better if we both-" she was silenced by Tara's fingers over her lips.

"I just mean," Tara explained, "we've got a big day, and we have to get up soon. I don't want us to have to hurry, not our first time."

"Oh," breathed Willow, smiling sheepishly as she relaxed, "oh, right…you're right, of course. So…" she left the word hanging.

"Tonight," Tara whispered, grinning devilishly at her.

"Tonight," Willow repeated, slightly dazed by the surge of lust that Tara's sexy eyes sent through her.

"The caravan sets off tomorrow," Tara went on, "we can rest in the wagon. Tonight, we won't have to rush. All night…you'll have me all to yourself…and I can take my time with you."

"Oh yes," Willow promised, "oh gods, how am I going to get through today?" she added with a groan.

"We'll manage," Tara said, "the trials will probably take up most of the day anyway."

"Yeah," Willow said, "yeah, probably…"

"Are you going to be okay?" Tara asked gently.

"I guess so," Willow admitted, "just…I'll probably have to speak at Hydris's trial. I…don't like the idea of being in the room with him. It makes me feel…I don't know, it makes me go back to how I was after I saw the demon. Scared and alone." Willow was surprised – but not really, she had to admit – at how easy it was to talk about it. She felt as if the worst her imagination could conjure up would always be inadequate to shake her faith in the presence of Tara by her side.

"It's okay to be scared," Tara said, "but you're not alone."

"I know," Willow murmured, "I know…a-and I'll never really be that scared, either. I think, with you, I can't be. You make everything in my life feel better, even the really difficult things."

"I love you Willow," Tara said, "that's all I want, ever."

"I love you so much," Willow whispered, stroking Tara's cheek with loving tenderness. "You know I'll be with you too, right? A-at the other trial?"

"I know," Tara said, "thank you…" She leant in and kissed Willow, first on the cheek, the on the lips, resuming the heated tussle between their tongues that had been earlier interrupted. Willow arched her back, pressing herself against Tara even as she felt Tara's hands on her back, holding her tight. Her legs tangles with Tara's, and she moaned into Tara's mouth as she felt the warmth of Tara's sex, and Tara's thigh pressing up between her own legs.

"Oh gods Tara," she groaned, muffled against Tara's lips.

"Feel how hot I am for you baby?" Tara whispered seductively.

"Oh yes," Willow moaned, "I feel you…" She was surprised when Tara separated their legs from each other, moving her body away even while her lips kept up their intense merging with Willow's. Her hands left Willow's back and disappeared downwards.

"Now feel me, baby," Tara breathed, after a moment of wriggling under the blankets. Willow tentatively moved back to her, buoyed by passion as Tara resumed her kiss, opening Willow's lips and firmly claiming her mouth. When Willow edged her thigh up between Tara's legs again, the heat and wetness she felt against her skin was more than she had ever dreamed of.

"Tara," she moaned, unable to think of words for how she felt. Tara rolled her hips slowly, rubbing her naked sex along the length of Willow's thigh, making a lusty purring noise in the back of her throat as she spread her juices over her lover's skin.

"Just for now, baby," Tara said, "just…so you know…I'm all yours…" She held Willow low on her back, near her waist, and pressed her sex into Willow's hip, sliding herself slowly all the way down her thigh, before finally allowing a little space between them. Willow gasped, overwhelmed by the thought and the reality of Tara's sex kissing her skin, and held her breath the whole time Tara was moving against her until it was over. Finally she let out a long sigh and stared into Tara's eyes.

"Let's not get carried away," Tara murmured, "think of it as a promise, for tonight." Willow didn't know whether to laugh or sob.

"Are you trying to drive me insane?" she asked, hugging Tara to herself, though she kept her legs from wrapping around Tara's again.

"Yes," Tara said shamelessly. Now Willow laughed.

"Just remember," Willow warned with a brilliant smile, "the more you tease me, the more merciless I'll be when I finally get you all to myself."

"Mmm, promise?" Tara said, grinning back.

"Oh I promise," Willow assured her. Tara kissed her then slid out of bed, pulling on a long robe so that Willow only got a tantalizing glimpse of the honey-gold curls between her legs. Tara leaned back down to Willow, whispering in her ear while Willow's eyes were occupied with the beautiful cleavage on display mere inches from her face.

"In that case," Tara said, her voice low and sultry, "make sure you spend plenty of time today thinking how wet I'm going to be tonight when you slide your fingers into me." Her tongue darted out to lick Willow's ear, then she stood up, tightened her robe around her, and crossed to the bedroom door.

"Bathing," she said, with a far-too-innocent smile, "I'll be back in a few minutes."

'Ooh I'm going to torture you silly for that,' Willow promised silently, watching the door close. She curled up her legs so she could slide down her underwear, then rolled over onto the part of the bed where Tara had been, inhaling the scent of her hair from the pillow and wallowing in the lingering heat left by her body. For a moment her hand snuck underneath herself and her index finger parted the folds of her sex, but then she forced herself to be still.

"Patience, you insatiable little bit o' me," she told herself, giggling all the while. "No wild frantic self-love just yet. That'd be just what she expects, so instead we tease her right back." She rolled back over, trembling gleefully as she contemplated the game she and Tara were playing. "And the best part," she said to herself, "is that it's impossible to lose!" A plan formed in her mind, and she quickly tossed off the blankets and stood, glancing at herself in the mirror. She posed provocatively, biting the tip of her finger and winking at her reflection, then slipped her other hand between her legs and, very slowly, ran her fingertip up the length of her sex, just once.

"We'll see who drives who insane first!" she proclaimed, before stalking across to Tara's clothes trunk and rummaging around until she found her short black robe, neatly folded from its trip through the castle laundry the day before. She pulled it on, did up the sash tightly around her waist so that the material below it flared around her hips, took one last glance in the mirror to make sure she wasn't showing too much, then followed Tara.

A few of the other Amazons were in the common room, having an early breakfast. Willow noticed Tryptin glance at her then look away with a smile and a half-concealed roll of his eyes, but otherwise kept her gaze fixed forward. She quietly opened the door to the bath room and slipped through, holding the latch so that it didn't make much noise as she closed it again. Inside, across the floor from a fire with several buckets of water warming over it, were two large tubs, one of them empty, the other full of hot, soapy water and Tara.

"Well now," Willow said, making Tara spin around, "need a hand?"

"Goddess, Willow," Tara laughed, "y-you startled me!" She had just finished washing her face, and her skin was flushed pink and glowing. She ran an appreciative eye over Willow. "Did I tell you before how sexy you look in that?" she added.

"Thanks," Willow grinned, stepping gingerly into the water in front of Tara, "but it wouldn't do to get it all wet, would it?" She pulled the sash loose and caught the robe as it slipped off her shoulders, tossing it to one side before putting her hands on her hips and staring down at Tara. Tara's wide eyes traveled slowly down her body, taking in her breasts, her fingers splayed against her hips, the little patch of red hair between her legs, right down to her submerged feet, then all the way back up again until she met Willow's twinkling stare.

Willow slowly knelt in front of Tara, taking the opportunity to get a good look at her naked body, not least her generous breasts, before she reached out and took the washcloth from Tara's unresisting hand. She gently ran the cloth over Tara's shoulders, watching rivulets of water run down across her breasts and through her cleavage. She took each of Tara's arms and dragged the cloth along their length to her hands, running it back underneath so as not to miss any spots. Leaning closer she wet Tara's back, before soaking her hips and thighs down to the water. Then she dropped the cloth in the water, and leaned back just enough to look Tara in the eye. Tara had simply stared at her the whole time, as if she couldn't believe what she was seeing.

"Tara?" Willow asked.

"Goddess," Tara breathed, her expression suddenly anxious and shy, "I don't deserve…you're perfect…" Willow shook her head gently, and placed a tiny kiss on Tara's lips.

"If I'm good enough for you," she whispered, "then I must be." Tara's eyes focused on her and her lips parted slightly as she digested Willow's words. Then she reached out, her hands cupping Willow's cheeks as tenderly as a mother with a newborn child, and kissed her. It wasn't one of the heated kisses of before, full of desire and barely-contained need, nor was it chaste, for though Tara did nothing more than open her lips slightly and move them against Willow's, the kiss carried in it a current of sexuality that surpassed even the last few days' wildest moments. Willow couldn't describe it as anything less than perfect – all the world fell away, and there was nothing else besides Tara.

After a time – she couldn't describe how long – she felt her legs unfold beneath her, gently break the surface of the water and find the bottom of the tub again. She came slowly back to awareness standing with Tara, their bodies not pressed but simply held together, hands lightly on each other's hips. Tara opened her eyes again, which threatened to consume Willow. Together they sank back into the water.

"Let me?" Willow asked needlessly, her fingers grappling with the soap for a moment. Tara nodded and leaned back slightly, giving Willow room to slowly, luxuriously cover her body. Willow made sure she missed nothing, but the waves of erotic heat coursing through her at the simple act of touching Tara's body, anywhere, were such that she was genuinely afraid of fainting when she finally ran her soapy hands up Tara's stomach and cupped her breasts from beneath. She moved slowly, her thumbs almost touching each other, palms beneath Tara's breasts, fingers splayed to the sides, creeping upwards until she held their weight, and somehow managed to wrap her mind around the sensations, the softness, the smoothness. Tara relaxed herself, kneeling with her hands on her heels behind her, letting her head fall back and giving voice to a tiny, high moan as Willow's thumbs ventured inwards from her cleavage to find her nipples.

Willow massaged Tara's breasts for a moment, then reluctantly let her hands continue upwards, her palms leaving a parting caress over Tara's nipples. She had to fight the urge to stay, to touch Tara like this all day, but she knew they didn't have time right now. The heartbeat of desire building within her was balanced by a new calm she hadn't ever experienced before, as if something inside her had finally understood that a moment like this, even if it would end in nothing more than intimate touching and whispered words, was its own experience, and its own reward.

Soaping Tara's inner thighs, she hesitated. She knew it was foolish, considering everything she and Tara had already shared, but for all that she had held Tara in her arms during her climax, felt the heat and wetness against her leg, felt Tara's sex completely naked that very morning…she had never touched her there. She knew she would, there was no question of it, but she had to pause for just a moment, to let the knowledge sink in before she proceeded. As if reading her mind, Tara moved her knees outwards, parting her thighs in an unmistakable invitation. Willow slowly, gently moved her fingers higher, until they reached their destination, and she felt the unique softness, the silky tenderness, that she had never known anywhere but her own body, her own center.

'Oh my gods,' Willow thought, 'oh my gods, I'm touching her, I'm touching her sex, don't panic, don't move too fast, we're just bathing here, oh gods oh gods oh gods…'

"Mmmmmm," Tara sighed, moving ever so gently, parting her legs as far as the sides of the tub would allow, relaxing just enough to let a fraction of her weight rest on Willow's hand. Willow wouldn't have been able to tear her eyes away had the Power That Is manifested herself right there in the bath room with them. Before her, Tara was the embodiment of pleasure, her whole body and posture and demeanor perfectly aligned to show complete bliss, in the moment when she was utterly vulnerable, absolutely exposed to Willow. Willow had never seen anything that so called to her soul to be as perfect as was humanly possible, to deserve this.

Slowly, with a touch of regret but a stronger glow of satisfaction, Willow drew her hand away from Tara, down into the water. She cupped a handful and brought it up, her fingers again tracing Tara's most intimate place as she washed the soap away. Tara hummed a low note to herself and leant back, angling her hips just a little further towards Willow. Willow's hand lingered for a long moment after the water had drained away, motionless but in delightful contact with Tara. She teased her imagination with how close she was, how little would be required to sink her index finger, resting between Tara's lips, into the velvety depths of her sex.

"Wait," Tara breathed, just as Willow had begun to move her hand away. Willow froze in place as Tara brought her own hand to her arm, trailing down to her wrist.

"I just," Tara breathed, eyes closed, still to all appearances in some other realm of joyfulness, "I just want…to touch your hand… now…there…" Her hand slid onto the back of Willow's, covering it, holding it still against herself. "I-if I were a poet," Tara whispered, "I could tell you how this feels…" After a long, silent moment she let her hand relax just a fraction, and Willow gently moved her fingers to Tara's thigh, stroking her skin before scooping up another handful of water and continuing to wash her.

Willow retrieved the washcloth and ran water over Tara's shoulders, rinsing the soap from her body with loving care. As she reached her waist Tara straightened up on her knees, giving her better access, finally opening her eyes to smile down at Willow as she gently kneaded her bottom and then her thighs. When she was done Tara wordlessly took the cloth from her hand and held it in the water to soak it.

"Close y-your eyes?" she asked in a tiny voice. Willow did so, rewarded a moment later by the sensation of Tara running the wet cloth over her skin. First her shoulders, front and back, then down her arms, then her back, down to her waist, up her sides, down again to her stomach. Willow's lips fell open when the cloth brushed over her breasts, but it was just for a moment, before it ran down her back again, over her bottom with a playful little squeeze, and along her legs. Willow waited for a moment as Tara wet the cloth again, then she felt it soft against her face, as Tara dabbed the corner of it over her brow, her cheeks and her chin. Willow smiled widely at the warmth surrounding her, and her tongue darted out to lick a drop of water from her lips. She felt Tara's fingers, slippery with soap, carefully navigate her face, then the cloth again, washing it away.

Tara started soaping her body, following the same paths Willow had a moment ago. Having felt her touch there before, Willow thought she would be ready when Tara's hands cupped her breasts, but a gasp escaped her as Tara's fingers closed firmly on her, confident and assertive. She leaned back as Tara had, giving herself over to Tara. She felt a thumb and finger close on each of her nipples and lightly pinch them, which forced her mouth wide open as she heaved air into her lungs. Then Tara's hands were moving back down over her stomach onto her legs, squeezing her bottom again in passing, before circling around her knees and moving back up the inside of her thighs.

Willow understood Tara's earlier rapture as she slowly opened her legs for her. She felt completely open, completely helpless, and at the same time perfectly safe and calm. She kept going until her knees nudged up against the sides of the tub, and she could go no further. She felt as though she had somehow exceeded the bounds of reality, as if the world as she knew it, with all its imperfections and compromises, was not capable of containing the pure bliss she felt in the simple act of giving her most private place to her lover, her Tara. She imagined she could feel the warmth of Tara's skin as she neared, and then for the first time in her life she felt the touch of a hand not her own on her sex.

She felt a hundred thoughts all at once. She wanted to be set in stone, immovable, locked in this moment for all time; she wanted to somehow live her entire life without having to let go of the feeling of Tara's hand on her sex, her palm cupping her mound; she wanted to feel Tara's fingers move, slowly and gently, through her folds; she wanted to grab hold of Tara's wrist and drive herself down onto her fingers, to keep Tara inside her forever and ever. Whether by consensus opinion or because of the overriding calm joy she felt, she remained still. Tara's hand stayed with her as she tilted her hips forward and let her head fall back, each breath released from her body accompanied by a soft cry of pleasure.

All too soon she felt Tara's fingers trail away, and then the heat of water against her sex as, for a moment, Tara was touching her again. Then her thighs were being washed clean of soap, and her hips, her bottom, her stomach, breasts and shoulders, and her back. Finally she felt Tara's finger on her chin, inviting her to look up, to open her eyes again. Staring into her eyes, Tara held her hands around Willow's waist and gently straightened her up, until they were kneeling face to face in the cooling water.

"No words," Willow whispered. Tara nodded, and kissed her slowly and deeply, her tongue reaching into Willow's mouth, but moving lazily, taking its time exploring. Willow ran her hands up and down Tara's back, marveling at the perfection of every inch of her, until finally Tara released her lips and rested her forehead on Willow's.

"Y-you want to borrow a towel?" she asked with a sweet smile. Willow smiled, then laughed, and hugged Tara as they stood up together, and didn't let her go until they were both by the fireplace, next to the bench where a selection of thick, fluffy towels were waiting in the warm. They took one each and dried each other, Willow finding it a little easier to keep her mind on the task at hand with several folded layers of towel between her hands and Tara's body as she rubbed her vigorously all over. She smiled as Tara wrapped her towel around her back and pulled her close.

"We're going to be late," she said ruefully.

"We'll get dressed in a hurry," Willow replied.

"Tonight," Tara whispered. Willow nodded.

Willow sat in the Baron's court, Tara's hand warm in hers, as they waited for the prisoner to be brought in. She was glad that neither of them would be required to give evidence – she because she had been several miles away when Tara had been attacked, Tara because there were plenty of noblemen of good standing who were witness to it, and the Baron had conveyed through his advisor Franzef that Tara needn't take the stand unless she wished to. On hearing Franzef's assertion that there was no way the case would fail, Tara had decided to merely observe, asking only to be allowed to speak with the Baron before final judgment was passed.

The room was paneled with wood, and dominated by the Baron's throne, where he would sit and pass judgment after the evidence had been presented and the witnesses had spoken. Behind the empty throne a wooden statue of an eagle reared up, its wings carved into the panels behind it, spanning the width of the room. To one side of the Baron's throne, separated from the rest of the room by sturdy steel bars, a plain wooden chair where the accused would sit. Opposite this were places for the master of the court and the accused's defender. Franzef was already sitting there, having taken the role on account of Josef having no-one to call upon. Willow and Tara sat with a handful of witnesses on benches along the back of the chamber.

"There's an Amazon custom," Tara said quietly, as a pair of guards entered the court and stood ready by the empty cell, "where if a warrior is threatened, she always confronts the source of her fear. They say when we're in danger, when someone puts us in danger, is puts fear into us, and we have to look them in the eye to get rid of the fear. Otherwise, even if its source is destroyed, the fear remains." Willow offered an encouraging smile, and squeezed Tara's hand gently. She was pleased to see Tara looking confident, if slightly tense. A few more witnesses and spectators finished seating themselves.

"All rise," called Franzef, as a door in one of the side walls opened and the Baron emerged. He nodded acknowledgement to the room in general and proceeded to his throne, while the witnesses resumed their seats. Franzef remained standing until his opposite number, a white-haired old man in expensive robes, followed the Baron into the room and took his place beside him. The Baron reached out onto the podium in front of him and placed his hand on top of a steel ball resting there. Willow had wondered about that, but its purpose became clear when he lifted it and brought it sharply down on the metal base beneath it, causing a ringing crack.

"Judgment will commence," he said, nodding to the master of the court. The man stood and walked a few paces to the middle of the chamber.

"Bring in the accused," he ordered the guards. One of them pulled a rope a short distance from the cell, which rang a bell on the other side of the wall. A door inside the cell opened and two guards manhandled Josef through, seating him without much gentleness and remaining behind him, short swords drawn. Willow frowned at Josef, studying him – she realized she had wanted him to be some creature of darkness, warped and inhuman, gleeful in his villainy, but he was just a man. He certainly hadn't benefited from his stay in the castle's cells, sporting several days' worth of stubble and dark circles beneath his eyes, but his expression as he stared at the floor before him was simply resignation.

"Baron," the master of the court began, "this man stands accused of attempted murder, his target being both an ally of the realm, and a guest under this roof, enjoying the status and protection thereof." He retrieved a scroll from his bag and presented it to Franzef, who glanced at it and handed it back.

"What say you?" the Baron asked him.

"The accused pleads guilty, and begs the mercy of the court," Franzef said. The Baron turned to the cell and fixed Josef with a formidable glare.

"Is this true?" he asked formally. Josef didn't meet his eye, but nodded humbly.

"Yes y'r honor," he mumbled.

"Very well," the Baron went on, turning back to Franzef and the master of the court, "the defender will state the case for mercy. The witnesses are excused, if they wish to leave." Willow looked at Tara, who gave her a tight-lipped smile and stayed put. Willow shifted a little closer to her on the bench. She noticed some of the other witnesses leaning back and looking more relaxed, but no-one left the chamber.

"Only that the accused was instructed in his crime by Hydris, at that time mage to the Baron's court," Franzef noted dryly, "a man of much higher rank than the accused, and therefore possessed of a corresponding influence."

"Noted," the Baron replied without feeling. "The case against?" The master of the court stood again.

"The accused is a known outlaw, having committed both theft and brigandage. He accepted Hydris's money readily, and had full knowledge of his actions. If your lordship pleases, documents can be produced telling of his criminal activities in Piotrsberg and Theresenberg. There is a warrant on his head issued by the constables."

"So noted," the Baron said. He glanced once more at Josef in his cell, then looked out over the faces before him. "The accused is guilty by his own admission. The penalty for his crime, as laid down by the law of this realm, is death by hanging. It is my wish, though, that the Amazon nation, whose representative was the target of this cowardly attack, be allowed to take whatever measures it deems necessary to satisfy its own codes of justice."

Tara gaze Willow's hand a quick squeeze, took a deep breath, and stood up. The Baron beckoned her forwards, and Willow watched her intently as she approached his throne.

"M-my lord," she said, raising her voice so everyone could hear, "what punishment would be awarded, if mercy were granted?"

"Having heard this evidence," the Baron said grimly, "this man will never be pardoned. If mercy were called for," he stressed the 'if', "he would be taken to the copper mines near Salzlake. The tunnels are completely mapped, and the guards at the mine among our best. He would be put to work there for the rest of his natural life." Tara nodded, then turned and took a couple of paces towards Josef's cell. He stopped himself from looking up at her as she stood in front of him, close to the bars. Willow held her breath, trusting Tara but anxious for her none the less.

"Look at me," she heard Tara say in a quiet, steady voice. Josef glanced up at her, flinched as he met her stare, and then frowned in confusion at her, as if he had been expecting to be struck dead by her gaze. She leaned a little closer and said something Willow didn't catch, then stepped back and turned towards the Baron again.

"I-I ask for the court's mercy," she said clearly. The Baron looked surprised, and Willow heard astonished muttering from the benches around her.

"This man tried to kill you," the Baron said slowly, as if working his way through a difficult idea.

"Yes," Tara said, "and when he did, I-I was more afraid than I had ever been." She took a moment, then met the Baron's stare with ease. "But I'm not afraid of him now," she said simply.

The pragmatic side of Willow was a little upset – truthfully, the notion that people might be afraid of trying to hurt Tara was one she didn't have much of a problem with – but at the same time she was oddly proud. Tara was smiling faintly as she turned back, without giving Josef another look. Her smile faltered as she looked past Willow, but then she gathered herself and returned to her side. Willow glanced back as Tara was sitting down, and frowned to see von Karlin seated in the back row of benches, scowling at nothing in particular. She took Tara's hand again.

"Judgment is made," the Baron said loudly, "the accused is sentenced to hard labor in the Salzlake mines, the duration being life, with no possibility of release." He brought the steel sphere down once more, striking a spark from the base beneath it. The court stood as he rose from his throne and left the chamber. Willow was glad to see von Karlin leaving without a word.

"You okay?" she asked Tara.

"I'm okay," Tara replied, seeming a little surprised. "I-I'd already decided to ask for mercy…there's very little serious crime on the islands, and we don't like to put people to death. I-I just thought I'd feel more uneasy about it…I feel kind of good," she finished with a shrug and a grin.

"Not afraid any more?" Willow asked with a smile.

"No," Tara said, "I know the Baron will keep his word…that man won't be able to try to hurt me ever again. I'm not afraid."

"Good," Willow said.

Chapter 17

Willow paused outside the court chamber, looking pensive. Tara waited with her, studying her expression. Willow had chatted with her as animatedly as usual during lunch, but of course Tara could feel the tension rising in her as the commencement of the afternoon session neared. It had occurred to Tara more than once that she had had the easier confrontation – though Hydris had completely ignored Willow that day, while Tara had had a crossbow fired at her, Willow's fear ran deeper, and could not be so easily assuaged.

Willow took a deep breath and held out her hand, which Tara instantly took, giving Willow a supportive smile when she looked at her.

"Ready," Willow said after a pause. Tara nodded and walked with her into the chamber. It was much as it had been in the morning, with chairs for the master of the court and the defender, empty cell for the accused, and the Baron's throne waiting for him. There were more guards, though, one on either side of the throne, and a pair standing at either end of the foremost of the benches at the back of the chamber, as well as the pair by the cell. Franzef was already seated, now acting as master of the court; he glanced up at Willow and Tara's entrance, but initially betrayed no expression. He had spoken to Willow briefly during lunch, politely reminding her of the importance of the trial, both in the seriousness of its subject, and the necessity to satisfy the Vizjerei investigators, when they eventually arrived, that the case had been heard fairly and justly. He was not permitted to speak to Willow now, in court, except in his official role, but earlier he had quietly wished her well, as well as thanked Tara for her participation in the earlier trial. Tara kept her eyes on him for a moment, watching as he returned his attention to the papers spread out over the top of the case on his knees, and she thought she noticed the shadow of a frown cross his face. He motioned to one of the assistants standing behind him, and wrote a note which he pressed into the boy's hand with a word of instruction. Willow caught Tara's eye, but she could only shrug as the assistant quickly left the chamber.

The doors opened again, and Tara stiffened in her seat when von Karlin, attended by a short, thin boy carrying his case, strode through. He passed by the witness benches, and to Tara's surprise and dismay seated himself beside Franzef, as defender of the accused. Willow's fingers gripped her hand tightly, and she shifted closer to her, laying her spear on the bench, holding Willow's hand in her lap and covering it with her other, gently stroking the back of her hand as she contemplated the implications of this. Willow gave her a quick, grateful smile, but continued to look more than a little apprehensive. A moment later Tryptin quietly made his way into the chamber and sat beside Tara.

"The Baron's advisor just notified me," he said, glancing at von Karlin and speaking quietly, "I imagine he didn't know until he was already in court."

"What's he doing here?" Tara asked, with Willow leaning against her, close to Tryptin so he wouldn't have to raise his voice.

"He approached the Baron and demanded to be appointed defender," Tryptin explained, "it all happened just a few minutes ago. Apparently he's within his rights, the mage is from his family, a cousin or something. I asked one of the nobles just now, he said so far as he knew they hadn't even spoken to each other in years, so I can't imagine why he's involving himself in this."

"The other night, at dinner," Willow whispered, "he did it deliberately, to find out…what?"

"My best guess," Tryptin said after a moment's thought, "is that he's decided Hydris's conviction would be some sort of insult to his family, and you're both to blame. How he hopes to argue that in court, I don't know, I'm sorry."

"Damn," muttered Willow, "he's going to argue we're morally corrupt or something."

"I doubt the Baron will accept that," Tryptin said with a frown. "It would be stretching protocol, but I could still approach him before he enters the court. He does have the right to make a judgment without a trial."

"Willow?" Tara asked. Willow's face was a picture of concentration as she thought furiously.

"No," she whispered at last, "no, there has to be a trial. There's no way Hydris will be pardoned, but if there's no trial the Vizjerei could make things difficult for the Baron. They'll accept his judgment that Hydris was practicing demonic magic, so long as they see a fair trial took place."

"Will you be alright?" Tara asked as Tryptin nodded and hurried off. "He could question you, as a witness." She had thought of giving Tryptin Silverstrike to take back to her room, now that she was present as an observer, not an Amazon warrior, but von Karlin's presence changed her mind. 'Let him remember he's up against a warrior,' she thought.

"I don't care what he says," Willow replied with a stubborn lift of her chin, "I know what I saw." She glanced at Tara, and leaned closer to her, holding her gaze. "And I know what we have together is the most beautiful thing in the world. He can't say anything to change that."

"I love you," Tara said, wishing she could think of something more. 'Two warriors,' she thought, admiring Willow's courage.

"I know baby," Willow replied. The chamber's side door opened, and Franzef shuffled his papers into his case and stood.

"All rise." The Baron entered, looking none too pleased but keeping his eyes fixed firmly ahead. He sat, smoothed down his robes, then took hold of the steel ball and rapped it against its base.

"Judgment will commence." Franzef stood and ordered one of the guards to bring in the accused. From the door within the cell Hydris was brought out, a guard holding each elbow in a firm grip, and a third standing behind him as he was seated, and the door closed. Tara heard the scraping of a bolt being slid home on the other side. She leaned forward slightly, subjecting Hydris to intense scrutiny as she felt Willow's hand tense in hers. If she had walked past him in the street, she might not have even noticed him – his hair was cut short in a common style, graying at the temples, receding from his forehead and thin on top. His nose was hooked but not overly large, his eyes were deep-set but unremarkable in any other way, and his mouth was set in a thin grimace as if he was feeling slightly impatient, but resigned to it. Aside from the fine tailoring of the simple robe he wore – which Tara noticed had darker patches on it where pockets had been removed, revealing the unfaded fabric beneath – he could have been a shopkeeper, or a notary. If the notion of being on trial for his life affected him at all, he didn't show it.

"Not what I was expecting," Willow murmured in Tara's ear. She nodded and returned Willow's hand to her lap, stroking the back of it.

"Baron," recited Franzef, "this man stands accused of consorting with a known brigand; offering payment for crimes; conspiracy to murder, the intended victim being both ally of the realm and guest under this roof enjoying the status and protection thereof; practicing demonic magics, in violation of his oath as mage to the Baron's court, the seriousness of the charge constituting treason against the realm of Kingsport; attempt to inflict harm and attempted murder, the target being a servant of the Baron's household; and inflicting harm on the Baron's guards, they being in the course of carrying out their duty." He opened his case and took out a scroll, which he handed to von Karlin. Von Karlin took a long time reading it, then handed it back without comment.

"What say you?" the Baron demanded. Von Karlin stood and regarded him levelly.

"The accused is not guilty," he said loudly. The Baron raised a skeptical eyebrow, there was a murmur from the witness benches, and Willow's grip tightened. The Baron stared at von Karlin for a long moment, then turned to Hydris, who didn't appear to be paying any attention to the proceedings around him.

"Is this true?" the Baron asked. Hydris ignored him, his eyes unfocused, blinking now and then as he stared into space.

"The accused chooses to stand mute," the Baron said after a lengthy pause. "Defender, state your case." He sat back in his throne, looking in no way well-disposed towards von Karlin as he took the floor.

"Baron," he began, "witnesses to the court. This man stands accused of attempting to summon a demon," – he said it in a slightly incredulous tone – "and of arranging an attempt on the life of one of our Amazon guests. The first charge is entirely false. The second is true. However," he held up a finger, "as I shall demonstrate, the actions he took were entirely justified, and the court shall uphold the necessity for them."

"And the other charges of attempted murder and inflicting harm?" the Baron asked pointedly, as von Karlin allowed a theatrical pause.

"A minor matter," he said dismissively, "easily explained, which I shall come to in due course. The court will find in the accused's favor." The Baron snorted derisively.

"Master of the court," he said instead, "your charges are disputed. You have the floor." Von Karlin sat back down, glaring at Franzef as he stood.

"Baron," Franzef said, "I cite the testimony of Josef, convicted of the attack on the Lady Tara. In the presence of witnesses of high standing, he identified the accused as the man who paid him the sum of fifty crowns to commit his crime, and promised fifty more should he succeed. Does the defender challenge this testimony?"

"He does not," von Karlin sneered. Franzef stared at him, then continued.

"I cite the testimony of the servant Kristanna, employed in the Baron's household, that the accused, on being discovered in the process of conducting a magical ritual, attacked her with intent to kill. Does the defender challenge this testimony?"

"Yes," von Karlin said flatly, "I wish to question the girl."

"Out of the question," the Baron interrupted. "The… 'incident' left her in a hysterical state. I will not subject her to examination in court."

"Baron," von Karlin protested, "the girl's testimony is inaccurate. How am I to prove this without questioning her?"

"You may state your reasons for challenging the testimony," the Baron allowed, "and I will weigh what you say against the girl's statements."

"Baron-"

"I will not be swayed," the Baron insisted, leaning forward. "Be grateful for the leeway I am allowing you." Von Karlin met his stare for a moment, then backed down.

"Yes, Baron," he said, bowing with a tight-lipped smile. "In that case, I would remind the Baron that the lower classes from which this girl comes are fearful and suspicious of magic. They have no contact with true mages, and know only what they hear in children's tales. I suggest that the girl's hysteria was provoked solely by seeing magic being performed, and that the accused followed her from his rooms merely in an attempt to calm her, not attack her."

"My Lord?" Franzef asked.

"Proceed," the Baron told him.

"The events the defender refers to concern other evidence. I cite the testimonies of Aldus and Gunter, both guards in the Baron's employ, that the accused pursued the girl carrying a knife, which he wielded in a threatening manner, and that when blocked by them he attacked them, wounding Gunter in the leg. Does the defender challenge?"

"Yes," von Karlin said again. "I wish to question the guards." The Baron gestured, and two of the burly men sitting in the witness benched stood and came forward, standing side by side before Franzef and von Karlin.

"Aldus," von Karlin said to the smaller of the two, "and Gunter, correct?"

"Yes m'lord," they both said.

"Aldus," von Karlin went on, turning away from the other guard, "you say the accused was pursuing this girl Kristanna, and you barred his way, correct?"

"Yes m'lord," Aldus repeated.

"And you say that the accused was wielding a knife?"

"Yes m'lord."

"'In a threatening manner,' the master of the court says. Could you describe how one wields a knife in a threatening manner?"

"He was holding it ahead of him, m'lord," Aldus said, "raised, like to strike."

"I see. Suppose you were running, and had your sword in your hand. Would you be holding it at your side as you ran?"

"No m'lord," Aldus said hesitantly.

"No," von Karlin repeated. "Now, suppose that the accused merely had the knife in his hand when he was disturbed, and had not put it down in his hurry to follow the distraught girl. Do you think that is possible?"

"Um…" Aldus looked nervous, "I can't say, m'lord. I just know what I saw, which is that I thought he meant to hurt the girl."

"You thought," von Karlin said, stressing the second word, "indeed. Gunter, you were wounded in the ensuing struggle. In your leg? You seem to stand easily enough."

"T'weren't a bad wound m'lord," Gunter said, in a voice an octave lower than his companion's.

"How fortunate. You and your friend here are continuing to fulfill your duties as guards?" Off their nods, he went on: "And tomorrow, you will be leaving us to escort the departing caravan to Duncraig? I understand you two were among those who were dispatched to the city to escort the Amazons here in the first place."

"Yes m'lord," Gunter said.

"I see. You are not concerned to leave the castle of your lord at a time when it has no mage?"

"No, m'lord?" said Gunter, confused.

"I mean," von Karlin explained, "when there is no mage to assist in the castle's defense, should the need arise?"

"Oh, no m'lord," said Gunter, "no, see, the mage, 'e didn't defend the castle. The guards do that."

"And what did the mage do?" von Karlin asked.

"Um, not sure, m'lord," Gunter said, "magic, I s'pose, and read 'is books."

"I see. You may go." He turned his back on the two guards as they shuffled back to their seats. "If the Baron pleases, the master of the court will resume his case?"

"Baron," Franzef said, at the Baron's nod, "I cite the testimony of Miss Willow, sorceress of the Zann Esu order, that examination of his rooms found evidence that he had been engaged in a ritual intended to summon or make contact with a demon, and that he had in his possession books and materials of a demonic nature. Does the defender challenge?" he finished with a resigned look.

"Yes," von Karlin said, ignoring Franzef's look, "I wish to question the sorceress."

"Miss Willow?" the Baron asked politely. Tara returned Willow's brief, firm squeeze before she released her hand. Willow stood and made her way to the court floor, glancing at Franzef and the Baron before meeting von Karlin's stare. Tara watched him like a hawk.

"Miss Willow," he said, "your order is devoted to purity of magic, correct?"

"That's right," she answered. Von Karlin waited for a moment, as if expecting a 'sir' or 'my lord', and scowled when it became apparent that he wasn't going to get one.

"And the Vizjerei clan, of which the accused is a member?" he went on, pacing across the floor, keeping his distance from Willow. "Are they too devoted to purity?"

"They are devoted to the protection of this world from demonic forces," Willow said.

"But they don't adhere to the same rules as your order," von Karlin said flatly.

"They don't restrict themselves to elemental magic," Willow clarified, "but they still hold that demons can't be trusted or dealt with in any way."

"I see. You practice only elemental magic because you believe other forms of magic are impure, correct?"

"Is there a point to this?" the Baron asked.

"Yes my lord," von Karlin replied smoothly, "I beg your indulgence. Miss Willow?"

"Other forms of magic are vulnerable to outside influence," Willow answered, "elemental magic isn't."

"Elemental magic is pure," von Karlin said, "and other magics are not?"

"A mage cannot be corrupted through elemental magic," Willow said, "other magics carry that danger." Von Karlin frowned, as if he had been hoping for a less measured reply.

"And the Vizjerei," he said, "they practice these other magics? What sorts?"

"The Vizjerei use certain kinds of prime magic, as well as holy magic, some alchemy some druidic practices, and a weaker form of elemental magic."

"What makes them weaker?" von Karlin asked sharply.

"The Zann Esu have studied elemental magic for centuries," Willow replied, "our knowledge of it is greater than the other clans. The Vizjerei use elemental forces in conjunction with prime and holy magic, they don't channel the elements directly.

"And these other magics are vulnerable to demons," von Karlin said.

"It's possible," Willow said. "Holy magic can be corrupted if a demon or another mage influences what the supplicant sees during prayer. Druidic magic is dependant on the purity of the earth from which its power flows – if the earth is corrupted, so is the magic."

"And the other? Alchemy?"

"Alchemy isn't a full magic," Willow explained, "it's a combination of lesser magical forces and chemical reactions. It's possible to corrupt the magical component, but only to a small degree. We – the Zann Esu – avoid alchemy just to be sure, but it's not really a source of significant danger."

"Which the other forms are," von Karlin added. "Tell me, how do the Zann Esu feel about the other mage clans? The ones who practice these corruptible magics?"

"How do you mean?" asked Willow, looking as if she expected a verbal assault soon.

"It's my understanding that the Zann Esu existed in strict isolation until very recently," von Karlin explained, "that, in fact, prior to the Reckoning none of the other mage clans even knew that you existed."

"That's true," Willow said, "that was before my time, but yes. We maintained secrecy to be sure that the forces of hell wouldn't learn of our existence."

"And once those forces of hell launched their assault, and failed," von Karlin said, "you have come into the open. Taken your place among your fellow clans. What I wish to know is, what is your place?"

"Von Karlin," the Baron interjected, "get to the point."

"Yes my lord," von Karlin said quickly. "I will put it plainly, Miss Willow. Yes or no: the Zann Esu consider themselves more powerful than any other mage clan?"

"Um, in terms of battle magic, yes," Willow said hesitantly.

"You see other clans as a weakness, a way for your old enemies the demons to gain power."

"I'm not sure I-"

"Yes or no, Miss Willow," von Karlin interrupted her, "demons gain power in this world through corrupting members of other clans, correct?"

"Well, yes," Willow admitted, "if they-"

"And these corrupt mages, being dangerous, are eliminated," von Karlin finished, his voice rising. "Do you know of the order called the Viz-Jaq'taar, Miss Willow?" Willow was silent for a moment, surprise written in her face.

"Yes," she said eventually, "the Mage Slayers."

"And what purpose does this order serve?"

"They…they're assassins," Willow said. "They kill corrupt mages."

"Has a Mage Slayer ever killed a member of the Zann Esu?" von Karlin snapped. Willow frowned in confusion.

"No," she said, "not that I-"

"Has a Mage Slayer ever attempted to kill a member of the Zann Esu?"

"Not that I know of," Willow answered.

"And lastly, Miss Willow," von Karlin said with a smile that didn't at all reach his eyes, "why have you not stayed in the room given to you by the Baron?"

"Excuse me?" Willow asked in the silence following von Karlin's question.

"A simple question, Miss Willow. Where have you slept these past three nights?"

"Von Karlin," the Baron warned. He glanced at Willow. "You don't have to answer that nonsense," he added. Willow drew herself up straight.

"In Lady Tara's room," she said, staring at von Karlin. He stared back for a moment, then turned to Franzef.

"Any questions?" he asked bluntly. Franzef frowned at him.

"Nothing further to Miss Willow's testimony," he said.

"Very well then," von Karlin said, turning back to Willow. "Oh, before you leave, one last question. You say that the accused's library contained books of a demonic nature. You are sure of this?"

"Yes," said Willow.

"You read them thoroughly?"

"No," Willow admitted, "but I know their contents."

"And the artifacts you identified as being of a dangerous nature," von Karlin went on, "you recognized them as well?"

"Yes."

"And how is it that you know so much about demonic magic, Miss Willow?" von Karlin asked.

"The…Zann Esu have a library of magical books and artifacts," Willow said hesitantly.

"Including demonic works?"

"To study," Willow said, "not to use!"

"And you have studied them in great detail, Miss Willow?"

"If you're saying-"

"I withdraw the question," von Karlin raised his voice, cutting Willow off. "You may go." Willow hesitated, looked at the Baron, then squared her shoulders and turned from von Karlin.

"Damn," she muttered as she sat next to Tara.

"It'll be alright," Tara assured her in a whisper.

"Why was he asking all those questions?" Willow muttered. "The assassins, and the Zann Esu, and gods, where I sleep- what's he doing?" Tara could only take Willow's hand again, and hold it tightly. Willow leaned her head on Tara's shoulder and watched von Karlin take the floor again.

"Baron," he said, "I move for the dismissal of all charges." Franzef stared at him in shock; the Baron glared as if suspecting a trap was about to be sprung.

"State your reasons," he demanded.

"Simply this," von Karlin said, "the accused is a good man, innocent of any wrongdoing, the victim of a conspiracy between this sorceress and her lover," he sneered the word, "among the Amazons."

"Explain yourself!" the Baron barked, clearly holding his temper by a slim margin. Tara gulped and put her arm around Willow, feeling the tension rise in her body.

"Gladly," von Karlin said mildly. "The accused is a member of the Vizjerei clan, who have served the realms of Westmarch for centuries, yet are hated in the eastern lands where the Zann Esu hold power. These sorceresses keep intimate company with each other, in defiance of proper, moral behavior, yet seek to claim superiority over all others by virtue of their 'pure' magic. They send assassins to weaken the other clans, those who are closer to our realms and our ways, while they hold themselves above judgment. In short, Baron, Miss Willow has manipulated your servants into implicating the accused, when in fact it is she who is the real source of evil!"

"Von Karlin!" the Baron snapped.

"Will you silence me, Baron?" he retorted, standing his ground. "You have it within your power to execute this man, your own mage, without trial. Will you stand before his clan's representatives and tell them you killed one of their own without allowing his defender to speak?" The Baron glared furiously at von Karlin, but said nothing, which von Karlin took as leave to continue.

"This sorceress," he went on, "in collaboration with her Amazon mistress, bought the loyalty of the two guards who claim to have been attacked, who you heard here today admit their contempt for your mage. She arranged a meeting with the accused, in which no doubt she would have 'discovered' his corruption and executed him personally, while hiding behind the authority of the Zann Esu, who can do no wrong. Fearing for his life, the accused hired a man to protect him, but in his naivety failed to take into consideration the unnatural abilities granted to the sorceress's lover. The accused even attempted to expose the corruption in the sorceress's own heart, but she arranged for him to be disturbed before he could complete the ritual to undo her powers, and then her lackeys were nearby to ambush him and fabricate this story of his attacking the servant girl. Then, who else but Miss Willow is called to examine the accused's rooms, and what should she find but the very demonic books and artifacts with which she is so well acquainted!"

"Von Karlin, this is madness!" the Baron shouted, reaching for his steel gavel.

"I am doing this for you!" von Karlin insisted, raising his voice. "Your Barony cannot be allowed to be used by these creatures, for their own ends. We must not harbor their kind under our roofs, accept their ways, allow them to turn us against each other!"

"One more word, von Karlin-" the Baron barked in warning.

"You accuse your own mage," von Karlin yelled, ignoring him, pointing towards Willow, "when the real demon sits there laughing at you!" Tara held Willow tight, her other hand going to the shaft of her spear, as she felt a tremendous urge to slam the butt of it into von Karlin's head.

"Silence!" the Baron boomed. Von Karlin reacted to that, whirling around to glare at the Baron himself.

"Don't let them do this," he said, his voice quieter, "my Baron, can you not see the evil in their hearts? How they are unnatural? You knew what was right once, my Baron, don't let your grief over your daughter-"

The chamber fell silent as the Baron shot to his feet, his jaw working furiously. Tara seriously wondered if he was about to attack von Karlin, the way he glared at him, his hands clenching into tight fists. After a long, dangerous moment he seemed to gain some measure of control over himself.

"How dare you," he said, his voice completely flat and lifeless, "how dare you…"

"You pathetic fool," came a new voice. Everyone, even Willow, who had been staring at von Karlin in complete shock, and Tara, her knuckles white around the shaft of her spear, looked at Hydris, who had finally looked up, and was regarding von Karlin with vague disgust, as if he was a plate of food that had been left in the sun and gone off.

"I can see through you," he said, his voice rising and falling in a chilling sing-song, "every thought. You sickening me. You think you have the right to judge everyone else? You? What do you know of purity? What do you know of hell?"

"I'm doing this for you!" von Karlin hissed, seeming to forget that everyone in the chamber could hear him.

"I never asked you to," Hydris said without feeling. "Let them kill me. I'll go to hell and serve my mistress there."

"You don't know what you're saying," von Karlin insisted.

"I know exactly what I am saying," Hydris snarled. "Better than you ever could. She has shown me, made me accept myself, my true purpose. You think I'm insane? I serve a power greater than you have ever known! What do you serve? What do you live for? You hate your life, despise your fellow men, you feel no warmth, no love…I know all your secrets. Shall I tell you? You cry at night because you enjoy how you feel when you beat your wife. And you seek to judge me?"

"Shut up!" von Karlin hissed, darting forward. He reached through the bars of the cell, and quick as a flash Hydris had grabbed his arm and rammed it sideways against the bars, snapping the bones. The guards stared in shock as von Karlin fell back, clutching his arm which hung at an unnatural angle, as Hydris began to chant in a low, echoing voice. A dark cloud streamed from his mouth, his nostrils, his eyes and ears, swirling into the middle of the chamber, thickening. The Baron shouted, Tara was on her feet, swinging Silverstrike around one-handed to aim at the darkness, Willow's grip was almost painfully tight in her other hand, she felt a chill and something blue and icy passed in front of her eyes-

There was a sound, like a plough digging into wet soil, and the darkness vanished. Tara took a deep, cold breath and looked at Hydris. He squinted, as if trying to see through a fog, and coughed quietly, bringing up a trickle of blood. Behind him, the guard's hand trembled on the hilt of the short sword piercing his back between the shoulder blades, slicing down through his chest from behind. The guard sucked in a breath and pulled the sword free, leaving Hydris to sink to his knees, his head coming to rest against the bars of his cell, eyes staring lifelessly at von Karlin, who was still whimpering on the floor in front of him.

Tara slowly became aware of the strange cold she was feeling, and looked down at herself. An aura of icy mist was wrapped around her body, tiny particles of blue light swirling through it. It moved as she did, as she turned back to look at Willow. It was coming from her, flowing across her body, out along her arm and over their joined hands to envelop Tara. Willow was staring at the air where the darkness had been, unblinking. Tara slowly sat back down next to her, putting her arm back around her waist and pulling her close. Willow swayed into her embrace, but just kept staring, her breathing coming in short gasps, as if she was silently, invisibly crying.

"Willow," Tara whispered, her voice taking on a strange sound inside the chill, "it's over. It's okay now, Willow." Willow very slowly turned and looked at Tara, as if she didn't understand.

"You're safe now," Tara said gently, "it's over. I've got you." Willow blinked, and the mist faded into the air.

"Tara," she whispered, her lips trembling. She jumped and threw her arms around Tara as the Baron's voice sounded.

"Dieter," he said to the guard still staring at his bloody sword, "you acted with my approval. Report to the master-at-arms. You two," he added to the other guards in the cell, "take that and bury it. Franzef-" The Baron hesitated as his advisor came to his side. He took a deep breath and went on, in a quiet voice that nevertheless carried through the still chamber. "Have von Karlin taken to the hospital wing. Keep him confined. Send guards to his house. Go with them. Talk to his wife. If you suspect ill-treatment… just bring her here." He looked out around the chamber, glancing at the guards dragging Hydris's body away, and at von Karlin, leaning weakly on the shoulder of another guard as he was escorted away. He met Tara's helpless stare, and his face fell even more at the sight of Willow huddled against her side, her face buried in Tara's hair, holding onto her tightly.

"Judgment is made," he said with a sigh.

Willow was quiet through dinner, and Tara let her be, simply sitting beside her, keeping a hand in hers, or resting gently on her lower back as they ate. Tryptin, once he returned from being briefed by the Baron, sensed that the best thing he could do was stay out of the way. He kept himself to a couple of necessary questions before leaving the common room again. Once or twice Willow managed a little smile for Tara, and Tara smiled back, though she could see the haunted look still in Willow's eyes.

When they finished dinner Tara took Willow gently by the arm and led her to the bedroom. Willow crossed to the bed while Tara turned to close the door, but when she turned back Willow was just standing there to one side of the bed, staring down at the floor. Tara stood behind her and touched her shoulder, relieved that she didn't flinch away from the touch.

"Willow?" she asked in her softest, most gentle voice.

"I-I'm sorry," Willow said in a tiny whisper, "I'm so sorry…" Tara moved to her side so she could see her face. Willow's features were twitching as if she was trying to keep herself from sobbing, and not entirely succeeding.

"I…I know we said…we'd…I c-can't, Tara, I'm so sorry-"

"No, baby," Tara said soothingly, hugging Willow tightly, "you don't have to be sorry about anything, not anything baby…"

"I was-" Willow said, her words coming in gasps, "I wanted… so much…a-and I know you did too- but I can't…"

"Willow," Tara said quietly, "it's okay. We'll sleep. I'll hold you." Willow glanced up at Tara's eyes, blinking quickly, her eyes full of unshed tears.

"I…I-I heard her," she whispered, "I h-heard her laughing at me…"

"I'll keep you safe," Tara promised.

"Y-you will?" Willow asked in a pleading voice.

"Always, baby," Tara murmured. "Come on." She gently sat Willow down and took off her boots, and then her clothes. She hesitated when she came to Willow's bra, but Willow nodded, and then tugged a little at the waistband of her underwear until Tara slid them down her legs and off. Tara felt nothing sexual – she was still awed at Willow's beauty, but her mind was fixed on a single purpose, her beautiful Willow was hurting, and she had to make it right. She lay Willow down and pulled the blankets up over her, tucking her in tenderly. Following her lead Tara stripped off all her clothes, padding around the room naked to put out the candles and close the shutters. She slipped underneath the blankets and reached out for Willow, drawing her into a loving embrace, curling up against her back and surrounding her with her arms. She felt the tension in Willow, and held her tightly.

"Let it out, baby," she whispered in her ear, "I'll keep you safe." Willow turned over, trembled, then let out a sob, and another, and then she was crying as hard as her body could bear. Tara felt the tears wet her shoulder as Willow's body was wracked by sobs, and she too cried, silently and without disturbing Willow by moving, simply letting the tears slide down her cheeks. Willow clung to her, and cried as if she had to shed enough tears to moisten all the deserts in the world, and Tara did the only thing she could think of. Quietly, almost below hearing, she began to sing, an old song she had learned from Jenavria, when she had been very small and the young woman had been taking care of her. It was an ancient song, which Jenavria had learned from Eponin, and Eponin from her mother Jilorra, and so on back through the generations, a song telling of the birth of the Amazon nation. It was High Amazonian, which Willow didn't know, but Tara had always liked listening to the song, even before she had learned the old language – the gentle, steady rhythm of the words always calmed her, and it slowly calmed Willow too. Her sobs quietened, and at last she lay still against Tara, her breathing slow and steady like Tara's song. Tara kept singing, verse after verse, long after Willow had fallen asleep, watching over her dreams, until her words became murmurs, and she too fell asleep.

Chapter 18

Willow woke to Tara lightly stroking her cheek. She smiled, tilted her head towards her hand, and stretched, feeling Tara's legs against the backs of hers.

"'Ello," she mumbled.

"Willow," Tara murmured in reply. Willow shifted slightly and lay on her back, grinning up at Tara, who propped up her head with her hand and watched her.

"First time in a while I've woken up without you feeling me up," Willow joked. Tara bit her bottom lip and gave her a suggestive wiggle of her eyebrows.

"Well, I was when I woke up," she admitted, "but I thought I'd let you sleep in. I got breakfast," she added, reaching behind herself. Her hand returned with a bread roll, already filled with cheese and tomatoes, with little raising peeking out of the crust. She offered the tip to Willow, who obediently bit into it.

"Mmm, s'good," she chewed, "'ow 'ong ev…'ait a 'o-ent," she swallowed. "How long have you been up?" she tried again.

"Not long," Tara said, tickling Willow's nose with the bread roll before offering her another bite, "but breakfast happened early. Most of the emissaries are busy packing their gear, and Tryptin's downstairs with the caravan master getting everything ready to move."

"'O 'e," she paused and finished the mouthful, "do we have to hurry?"

"Not for a little while," Tara smiled, "Melcan offered to get everything onto our wagon, so there's only our clothes and your books still up here."

"Aw," Willow groaned, "that was a really nice waking-up. Seems like a pity not to take advantage of it."

"Yeah," Tara blushed. "D-do you think you prefer cheek-stroking, or breast-holding to wake up with?"

"Tricky," Willow frowned in thought, "there's point in favor of both…you know, I think I'll just vote for you touching me in general, and leave the details up to you."

"Thank you Willow," Tara said quietly, with a dazzling smile.

"Thank you," Willow insisted, "you…You know, I was dreaming, and I could hear her voice. Shadai, I mean, laughing like I heard in the court." Tara immediately lay closer to Willow, one arm resting over her chest, her hand on Willow's shoulder, and her leg lying over Willow's thighs. "But it was okay," Willow went on, "because I could hear you too, your song. You know, the one you sang to me last night…I heard it, and it kept me safe. You kept me safe. Just like you promised."

"I'll always protect you, Willow," Tara said.

"I know," Willow smiled, "I love you so much."

"I'll never get tired of hearing that," Tara promised.

"I'll never get tired of saying it," Willow replied with a pleased grin.

"I love you, my wonderful sorceress," Tara murmured.

"My lovely Amazon. Oh, I wish we didn't have to get up," Willow moaned.

"Me too," Tara said, "how are you feeling? About yesterday, I mean?"

"It's like my dream," Willow said slowly, "I…it happened, and it was bad. But you're here, so I feel safe. It's just a memory now. I-I'm glad I cried, last night…you know, I never did until then, not like that. It felt like I was letting go of this huge weight I'd been carrying all this time." Tara smiled at her, sadness and hope mingling in her expression.

"I'm glad I could help," she said.

"Oh, Tara, you did so much more than help," Willow insisted, holding Tara's hand against her skin, "you- I don't know what I would've done without you. You make me feel safe, and loved, and, and every moment I have with you is so beautiful…everything I thought I lost, you're giving back to me. A-and not even an evil mage can take that away."

"You look so happy," Tara said quietly, "it makes me feel very special."

"You are," Willow whispered, "you're an angel." The way Tara blushed was more than Willow's self-restraint could bear, and she snuck her other arm beneath Tara's waist, pulling her closer.

"C'mere, my angel," she purred. She gently but firmly guided Tara until she was atop Willow, straddling her hips. Willow smiled and arched her back a little, fully enjoying the way Tara's breasts covered hers, seeming to envelop her chest in softness as she put her other hand behind Tara's back and hugged her close. Tara kissed her, running her tongue over Willow's lips and then inside, both of them moaning at the pleasure. Tara slowly leaned back, craning her neck to hold onto the kiss until the last possible second, then rising to kneel over Willow, smiling down at her.

"Like what you see?" she said in a sultry murmur. Willow could only nod dumbly as she watched Tara's hands stroke up the length of her body from her thighs and finally come to her breasts, which she cupped and held up, each nipple caught between thumb and forefinger.

"All yours, baby," Tara whispered, lightly pinching her nipples, which were already as hard as they could possibly be. She let go of herself and reached for Willow's hands, guiding them up as she leant back down. She supported herself with an arm on either side of Willow and licked her lips as Willow took the weight of her breasts in her palms, gently kneading and squeezing them.

"Not too much," she said in a breathless whisper, "we don't have long…just enough…so I can feel your hands on me…all day…" Willow nodded, awash with pleasure at the feel of Tara's breasts in her hands. Their size, so much more abundant, more womanly than her own, their weight in her hands, their incredible softness. She tore her eyes away to see Tara's face, and was entranced by her expression, her lips open and glistening, her eyes half-closed, a flush of excitement in her cheeks. She convinced herself to release Tara's breasts, putting her arms around her and gently pulling her closer.

"Something to remember all day," she promised. She craned her head up and forward just enough to catch Tara's right nipple with the tip of her tongue. She ran her tongue slowly along the short length, excited beyond measure at the sudden, delighted moan that came from deep in Tara's throat, then turned to her other breast and tasted that nipple as well. She let her head fall back to the pillow and looked up at Tara, who had closed her eyes and let her jaw hang open. She seemed to take a moment to gather her wits, then lay herself down on top of Willow.

"I just want to warn you," she breathed into Willow's ear, "if I kiss you now, it's going to be the kind of kiss that'll make both of us explode with frustration when we have to get up in a minute." She lifted her eyes to Willow's, waiting for a response.

"Well I think you'd better kiss me then," Willow said, "I don't know about you, but I'd rather explode than miss this."

"Me too," Tara said quickly, then she captured Willow's lips in a searing, furious, deeply sensual and utterly passionate kiss. It was the kind of kiss Willow was growing to love, when her shy Amazon locked her lips to Willow's and demanded absolute surrender, which Willow immediately gave. Tara's lips felt blazing hot against hers, and her tongue darted into and around her mouth with such agility that Willow wondered, with whatever remained of her mind that hadn't made itself a conduit directly between her mouth and her sex, whether there was some sort of special Amazon tongue trick that Tara had learned. She offered her own, moaning continuously as Tara lavished attention on it, drawing it into the heated confines of her mouth and caressing its whole length. She could feel her hips moving by themselves, and could muster only just enough self-control to keep from reaching down and sending herself beyond the point of no return. 'Or better yet,' she mused giddily, 'have Tara do it… those long, nimble fingers of hers…' Willow's fleeting fantasy came perilously close to doing the job for her, and the wonder that Tara could do this to her, with just a kiss, was the last thought she had for some time.

Finally, tortuously, Tara released Willow's lips and lay her head down on her shoulder. Willow breathed in great gulps of air, letting out a little exclamation of pleasure with each breath she released.

"Oh Willow," Tara whispered, chuckling as she spoke, "goddess…you're going to drive me mad…if I don't do it first…"

"Me?" protested Willow feebly, giggling. "That was all you… what did I do? I just lay here like a good little sorceress while a frenzied Amazon ravaged me."

"Oh, you did plenty," Tara assured her. "Your lips, your tongue…goddess, kissing you is like…like…it must be what a soul feels when it's born, when life begins."

"There's a bright light, and someone whacks you on the back?" Willow asked innocently. Tara burst out laughing.

"Ah," she sighed, when her laughter finally subsided, "my beautiful lady…I love you."

"I know," said Willow, "I love you too, my warrior."

"We should get up."

"Yeah."

"If we wait any longer,' Tara said, "they'll have to drag us down to the courtyard and toss us in the wagon still wrapped in our blankets."

"Do you think they would?" Willow asked. "It's cozy in here, it'd be nice to stay. Is there more of that bread roll?"

"Get up, you," Tara scolded fondly.

Willow and Tara arrived in the castle courtyard to find the caravan in a state of considerable activity. Eight more wagons had been added to the six that had set out from Kingsport, five of them bearing the emblem of Duncraig, a heraldic shield with a stallion rearing up on one side and an eagle on the other, on great canvas sheets sewn to the wagon covers with sturdy leather strips. Servants were hurrying about, loaded down with baggage and provisions, and a contingent of guards, Kingsport and Duncraig, were massing by the stables, readying their horses. Melcan was standing by Willow and Tara's wagon as they neared.

"Greetings ladies," he said, "Master Tryptin's greetings, he's busy with the caravan master, and would you both see the Baron in his office once your gear is stowed? I'll keep watch on the wagon."

"Thanks," Willow said, as Tara nodded and climbed up into the back of the wagon, taking their bags and Willow's book satchels as they were handed to her and putting them wherever they seemed to fit in the interior. It was a bit more cramped than she remembered, with one side half-full of tightly-strapped sacks containing provisions for the journey, but she estimated there would still be enough room with everything aboard for her and Willow to sleep side by side comfortably, given the close embrace they had defaulted towards the last few nights. 'Plenty of room,' she thought 'with her on her side, me behind her…and the driver will be sleeping in one of the other wagons at night.' She smiled at that line of thought and jumped back down to the ground, taking Willow's hand as they walked back towards the keep.

"What're you thinking?" Willow asked with a sly grin.

"What makes you think I'm thinking anything?" Tara replied in her best innocent voice.

"The way you're holding my hand," Willow said, "fingers intertwined, thumb brushing the side of my wrist…makes me think you're thinking something I'd like." Tara looked down at their joined hands.

"I hadn't even realized I was doing that," she said with a laugh. "But, as it happens, yes…it's more cramped in the wagon than before, I doubt there'll be room to sleep with any space between us."

"That's a pity," Willow said with a look that said she didn't regret it one bit, "I guess we'll have to snuggle up tight at night. To conserve space."

"I guess we will," Tara agreed.

The guard outside the Baron's office nodded at Willow and Tara as if he'd been expecting the, and opened the door for them. The Baron was, as usual, at his desk reading. He looked up, and closed the book, standing and coming around the desk to greet them.

"Lady Tara," he said with a smile, "Miss Willow…I regret you are not staying with us longer."

"Us too, Baron," Willow said earnestly.

"Y-your hospitality has been most welcome, sir," Tara added. 'Particularly the decent-sized beds,' she thought, 'I'm going to miss that.' The Baron nodded and frowned to himself.

"Gracious of you to say so," he said, "and I thank you, but I know your stay here has been far from enviable. As your host, I feel I am in both your debts, for your help during this trouble, and your most forgiving conduct. You have been my guests, and it was my responsibility to see that you were safe here."

"Baron," Tara said hesitantly, "w-we have a saying, among warriors: 'even a great leader is just a woman.' Um, man, in this case. Your conduct as our host has been generous and honorable. Amazons don't ask for more than that."

"I am responsible for my people," the Baron said grimly.

"A-and you have taken responsibility for them," Tara countered. "You've shown yourself to be a formidable leader. It wasn't weakness on your part that allowed Hydris to do what he did, so the blame isn't yours."

"That goes for me too," Willow added. "Despite everything that's happened, I'm glad to have been your guest. Sir," she finished. Tara grinned, and even the Baron managed a smile.

"You're very kind," he said. "You should know that Lord von Karlin remains under guard here. I intend to look into his family in detail, and pass his title on to whoever among them may prove fit for it. As for the man himself…that remains to be decided. I understand his mental state is not good. He is angry, bitter…he voices it at some length, but he often makes no sense. I think perhaps his pride had undone him, and that he cannot accept how very wrong he was. When he has recovered, there will be another trial, to determine whether he knowingly lied to the court, or whether he truly believed what he said. He will never hold a title again, that much is certain." The Baron turned and gazed out of the windows, staring at the countryside bathed in the morning sun. Willow glanced at Tara, but after a warm smile she returned her attention to the Baron, sensing that he had more to say.

"He was mad, I think," the Baron mused, "but much of what he said…his vitriol against your intimacy…oh, forgive me if I assume too much, but you are…you have shared a room these past nights? You share feelings…?"

"We're in love," Tara said, surprising herself – not by speaking the truth, but by saying it so plainly in front of the Baron. Willow beamed at her and squeezed her hand, and made no move to let go. The Baron half-turned, a sad smile on his face.

"You are brave to say so," he said. "I did not always realize what a foolish notion it was, that love, of all things, could be thought a sin. Von Karlin was not alone in that, you understand. Women sharing feelings as you do is not something that has ever been condoned in these lands, and there have been times when people were actively persecuted. I have tried to set an example for my court, and through them my people, but such sentiments do not vanish overnight. I cannot imagine what it must be like…to be hated for the greatest blessing a being can receive."

"Your people have been very accepting," Willow spoke up.

"I am glad," the Baron said, "perhaps I have done some good after all. There is something I wish you two to see. If you would?" He crossed the study to a door behind Franzef's vacant desk, and opened it for Willow and Tara. Beyond they found themselves in a smaller study, obviously a private room as opposed to the outer study which might be visited by anyone meeting with the Baron on business. Tara glanced at the shelves nearest her, noting that many of the books stored there were histories, books of art, books of philosophy – the Baron's private library, kept for his own enjoyment, not as an aid to ruling his realm. The Baron left the door open behind them and crossed the small room, coming to a portrait covered in a velvet cloth, positioned so that it would be visible from the padded reading chair up against the opposite wall by the fireplace.

"My daughter, Elisabeth," the Baron said, unveiling the painting. It was of a girl, almost old enough to be a woman, with golden blond hair and an impish smile. She held a short bow in one hand no her lap, and something about the way she was sitting indicated restlessness, as if she could think of many things more interesting to do that sit for a portrait.

"Von Karlin mentioned her to me yesterday, in defense of his preposterous allegations. I believe it is right that you know why he did that. She had just turned sixteen when this was painted," the Baron went on, "and not long after this, she left. I do not know where she is now, though she sends letters occasionally. She left three years and eight months ago. You'll forgive me if I sit? I am not as young as I once was, and these last few days have not found me sleeping well." He nodded his thanks to Willow and Tara as he sat down in the reading chair, gazing up at the painting.

"I drove her away," he said after a moment's silence. "Not intentionally, of course – she was willful, and a holy terror when she was a little thing." He smiled a fond smile. "I was very proud of her. I had determined that she would be my heir, you see. If I had had a son, even if he were a younger child, he would have been heir, but when she was born, and my wife held her in her arms, I decided I would devote myself to loving this one child. My wife was ill for some time after the birth, and though she recovered, the doctors said that another child might be dangerous for her, so she agreed that our Elisabeth would be our sole heir. And heir to the realm.

"I was so proud of myself – arrogant, I see now – when I explained to her, in this very room, with that portrait still newly-painted, how she would not have to endure a marriage of policy, as many noble daughters do. The laws of this realm, archaic laws, gave me the power to choose a husband for her, but I would not allow it. I told her, you are becoming a woman now, and the choice shall be yours. I explained to her how the sons of noblemen from the realm and beyond would send her letters, and visit with hopes of courting her, and that she should choose from them, or not at all, as her heart decided. Or if she found happiness with another, even a young man without a drop of noble blood in his veins, I said to her, let it be so, and I would see that he would be her husband, and be damned to all who protested.

"I felt so pleased with myself, that I was being a good father to her. And, you know, she looked at me with such affection…she looked at me as if I had given her the greatest gift she had imagined. And then she told me she was in love, with the daughter of the castle's falconer, a girl named Fionne. They had been inseparable, you know, for five years – the girl had her father's gift for hawks. Elisabeth used to go with her out onto the battlements and watch her fly a peregrine – ladies are supposed to fly merlins, they say, but the peregrine was her favorite. My Elisabeth told me she was in love with Fionne." Willow and Tara remained silent, watching as the Baron stared back through the years.

"I had no idea," he said, "I knew they spent so much time together, but I thought it friendship. The idea that my daughter could fall in love with a woman…I explained to her, quite calmly, that it was impossible for her to be with Fionne, or any woman. I told her that true love would lead to marriage and family, and that with a woman she could have neither. I told her that I was not angry with her, or disappointed, but that she would have to recognize that the feelings she had were foolish, and that one day she would know love, and take a husband, and they would be happy. And then I told her that it would be best if she did not see Fionne any more." A lonely tear trickled down his cheek. "Gods help me, she obeyed. And when I made arrangements for Fionne's father to go to the court at Perschell, far west of here, she said not a word in protest. I was…relieved. I congratulated myself on my handling of the situation, and looked forward to seeing my daughter move on with her life and be happy. And I never once realized what I had done to her. I had told her to give up her love, and though it tore out her heart she had done it. Because I was her father, and she loved me, no matter that I was a narrow-minded old fool.

Not long after, rumors began to circulate about her – perhaps one of the servants talked about her relationship with Fionne, I don't know. And one day, at a dinner, a man not unlike von Karlin, a nobleman of some prestige, joked about it. He insulted my dear, beautiful daughter, with her sitting their right next to me, and laughed as though he had done nothing. And there were some at the table who looked to me, to see if I would speak against him, but I did nothing. I worried that I might be seen to be endorsing my daughter's mistake, as I thought of it, and I was silent. She was so brave…how she sat beside me, kind and respectful, when I had betrayed her so, I will never know. That night she told me she loved me, as she always did, when I tucked her in to sleep. The next morning she was gone – some of her books, her traveling gear, her bow and her horse.

"Of course I searched for her, but she was a strong rider, and knew all that I did about covering her tracks. I thought she had made for Perschell at first, but there was no sign of her on those roads. My wife knew what had happened, and why, but like my daughter, she loves me so she forgave me, even when I did not deserve it. Eventually a letter came from my Elisabeth, from somewhere in Khanduras, though I don't know where. She writes now and then, because she knows her mother would worry about her otherwise, and for my sake, because she takes pity on a foolish old man. She has joined an order there, women who devote themselves to protecting the weak and defenseless. She tells me she is happy." The Baron stared at his daughter's portrait for a moment, then seemed to come back to the present, glancing at Willow and Tara.

"I wanted you to know this," he said, "because I'm sure these last few days will not be the last time you encounter people who would condemn you for the bond you share. I know you are both women of great courage and determination, and I have seen with my own eyes that you will not be cowed by the small-minded thoughts of frightened old fools. But even so, it will weigh heavily on you. I hope your burden may be made lighter, if you remember that many of those who ignore the truth of your love are just timid old men, as I was. I wish you both happiness and good fortune on your journey, and in your life." He rose from his chair and bowed to Tara, then to Willow.

"Baron," Tara said as he was showing them out of the study, "I-I know it's not my place to speak for her…but maybe, if your daughter writes to you, and wants you to know she's well, and happy…perhaps she's forgiven you? Y-you should forgive yourself, too." She gave the Baron a sincere look, and Willow added a hopeful smile.

"I will…consider what you have said," he replied. "Perhaps, one day, I shall be able to."

"That's so sad," Willow said, once she and Tara had returned to the courtyard. Tara was rummaging through the baggage stored in one of the cargo wagons.

"They teach us a little about what it's like in the Western Kingdoms," she said, "just in case we ever have to travel. At lot of things we take for granted in the islands are strange here, and sometimes even good people can be very frightened of what they're not familiar with."

"I wonder if it's harder for the noblemen," Willow wondered, "all the people down in the village just didn't seem to care that we were together. I suppose they've got enough to worry about, with harvests and things. I guess seeing a couple of women kissing isn't so bad compared to losing a crop that has to feed you for the winter."

"You're probably right," Tara said, "that's how it was with us – Amazons, I mean. We've always had to defend ourselves, and work hard to get enough food, and shelter all our people. It's only recently that we can really say the islands are safe, and we've got enough crops to make sure everyone has enough to eat. So we accept whatever love comes into our lives, or the lives of those around us."

"It's a good way to go about it," Willow observed, "I hope it spreads. What're you looking for?"

"We brought along a bunch of spares," Tara said to herself, heaving a sack out of the way to get at a bundle wrapped in leather, "here we go…" She unwrapped the bundle and drew out an unstrung bow, similar to her own though with less ornamentation. She handed it to Willow as she replaced the baggage in the wagon.

"Where's Stefan?" she asked. Willow glanced around, finally spotting the archery master over near the outer wall, talking with some of the guards who would be accompanying the caravan. She pointed him out to Tara, who has strung the bow with a string from her belt. She took Willow's hand and they walked through the caravan, dodging servants and horses, until they reached the wall.

"Good morning ladies," Stefan said, seeing them.

"Good morning," Willow said.

"Hello Stefan," Tara said. She hesitated for a moment, then held out the bow. "I-I want you to have this. You and your family have made us both feel very welcome here. I wanted to give you something to show our gratitude." Stefan took the bow, staring intently at it, as a craftsman inspecting a fine piece of work.

"I'm truly honored," he said, "this is remarkable workmanship…you're sure you can spare it?"

"Of course," Tara said. Behind them, somewhere among the wagons, a horn sounded.

"Um, we have to go," Tara added hastily, "I'm glad we got to meet you."

"Me too," Willow said, "I enjoyed meeting your wife the other day."

"Well, you've made me very happy," Stefan said, "safe journey to you. And if you should ever come back this way, our home is your home." Willow and Tara thanked him again before returning to the caravan, climbing inside their wagon as the drivers and riders began to move out, forming a line of wagons and baggage carts as they passed through the castle gate.

"You know, I'm going to miss this place," Willow said wistfully, staring back out of the open flap at the back of the wagon, at the castle as they slowly moved away from it. "Even with all the stuff that happened… this is where I really let myself love you. Not that I'm going to stop," she added hastily, "no siree…just, you know, good memories. Our first kiss…even better, our second kiss, oh my gods…where did you learn to kiss like that, anyway?"

"You inspire me," Tara said with a broad grin. She leaned over and pulled the flap down, leaving the two of them separated from the world outside, with only the rocking of the wagon, the glow of sunlight on the canvas roof, and each other for company.

"I know what you mean," Tara murmured, moving over on her knees to sit beside Willow, resting her chin on her shoulder with both arms around her waist. "Lots of good memories. But it's a long way to Duncraig," she shrugged, "plenty of time to make lots more."

Chapter 19

Tara sat on the tailboard of the wagon and watched the scenery slowly go by as she methodically worked bramble oil into the length of her unstrung bow. Willow was inside, rearranging the baggage and satchels for the fifth time, and seeing as Tara didn't know what particular arrangement she was trying for, she had elected to keep out of the way. Twice so far Willow had poked her head out of the canvas flap at the back of the wagon, the first time to give Tara a quick kiss on the back of her neck, the second to assure her that she was 'almost done.' Tara smiled at her lover's enthusiasm, and used the time to complete a few menial tasks, such as keeping her bow in top condition.

"You done out here?" Willow asked, appearing over Tara's shoulder.

"Sure," Tara said, holding the bow up and looking along its length, studying how the sunlight glinted off the treated wood.

"Well then, your carriage awaits," Willow said with a wink. Tara lifted the flap and climbed inside to find the wagon substantially transformed. The wooden floor was covered in blankets, and beneath them, when Tara lifted a corner to find out, were the spare bedrolls and soft leather sheets the caravan had brought along in case of the loss of some of their supplies, or damage to one of the wagons. With a double layer of blankets over the top of them, thick, strong wool and then a thinner, softer layer on top, Willow had created the most comfortable sleeping surface Tara could have asked for, short of emptying the wagon and hauling a real bed inside. Their luggage and provisions were securely stored on either side, up against the sides of the wagon, lashed down to keep them from moving. At the front the wagon's share of the caravan's bulk supplies, in wooden crates and heavy hessian sacks, were stowed up against the back of the headboard, with a few spare bedrolls and several thick rolled-up blankets covering them, to serve as a comfortable back to lean against, as Willow was doing. Tara glanced around, Willow's thought for detail not lost on her. Her spear was stowed securely behind the luggage on one side, safe from falling loose but available at a moment's notice. Willow's satchels were piled between a pair of baggage sacks, easily accessible. Rolled up and secured with leather straps on the other side of the makeshift bed were enough blankets to replace the wagon's bedding, so they could change the blankets and wash the old ones whenever they wanted. Willow had even left one of the crates uncovered at one side, up against the edge of the headboard, to leave easy access to the flap at the front of the wagon leading onto the driver's seat outside.

"Willow," Tara said, beaming, "this is incredible…how did you do this?"

"Well," Willow said, sitting up and shuffling over to Tara's side, staying on her knees to keep from bumping her head on the struts holding the roof up, "I was thinking it's still a month to winter, and we're pretty far south as well, but there's all this extra gear for when the caravan goes on from Duncraig up towards Khanduras where it's colder. You know, all the blankets, and those leathers, in case they run into a snowstorm or something. So I thought, what's the point of having all that just rolled up and getting in the way? And then I thought, what could be better than traveling all the way to Duncraig with my beautiful Amazon warrior in our own cozy little love nest?"

"Love nest, huh?" Tara purred, lying down and pulling Willow down with her.

"Well, maybe it's not quite that big," Willow admitted, stretching out next to Tara, "but it's the next best thing to a real bed, provided you don't mind sleeping really close. Which I don't," she finished with an impish smile. Then her expression turned forlorn. "I wish we could've stayed a few more days in the castle."

"I know," Tara said, "but it won't be long."

"Yeah," Willow said with a half-smile, "but, you know, now we're stuck here for two weeks, a-and much as I love being this close to you… it's a bit cramped for what I'd, you know, like to be doing."

"Hey, baby," Tara murmured, "it's okay. I'm okay with waiting until we've got a proper room, and a real bed."

"Me too," Willow insisted, "of course…it's just that…I was really looking forward to it, last night, and then with everything that happened…and I know you were too…"

"Willow," Tara said, quietly but firmly, "it's alright. I was looking forward t-to…making love," she blushed and grinned, "of course. But it wouldn't have been right. Not then. You needed me to hold you and make you feel safe."

"It just seems unfair," Willow complained, "you're so kind and caring, and baby I love you so much, but you had to go to sleep, you know… unsatisfied. After we'd already decided to-"

"No, Willow," Tara insisted, "I wasn't unsatisfied, I promise I wasn't. Just as much as you needed me to comfort you, I needed to as well. I saw you hurting, and I just had to hold you, and try to make it better. I-I went to sleep knowing I had done everything I could to help you, to make you feel safe after what happened. That's really important to me, and it meant more to me than just being able to experience some release. That wasn't important right then. I promise you, Willow, I wish things had happened differently, but there's nothing you could have done that would have made me feel more in love with you than I do right now."

Willow smiled up at her, with unshed tears in her eyes, and then buried her face in Tara's chest as she hugged her fiercely.

"Mmm l'v 'oo," she said indistinctly, muffled by Tara's cleavage.

"I love you too, baby," Tara purred, stroking Willow's hair. Willow held her for a moment, then relaxed her arms, though she didn't remove them from Tara's waist, and let her head fall sideways, pillowed on Tara's left breast.

"How do you always know what to say to make me feel better?" she asked rhetorically. "You're an angel, baby, you really are." Tara smiled fondly down at her.

"So when sorceresses meet angels," she said with innocent curiosity, "do they always bury their faces in their bosom like that?" Willow laughed.

"It's a truly angelic bosom," she retorted, "so yes, I don't see how they'd be able to resist the temptation. I can't," she added, emphasizing her point by again pressing her face between Tara's breasts. Tara was very glad she had chosen to wear her lighter leather armor, without the high neckline.

"Um, Tara?" Willow asked, once she had again extracted herself. "I was wondering…I know it's a bit cramped in here, but if you wanted to…I mean, we could make love? Not right now, obviously, but maybe in the evening…?"

"W-would you be okay with that?" Tara asked gently.

"I was kind of picturing a big bed," Willow admitted, "but I think with you I could be perfectly happy if we were lying in a puddle in the middle of a field…A-and last night I was worried, you know, well, of course you know, I was worried about how long it would take for me to feel, well, good, but I do. I really do, I feel the way I did before the court happened. So, um, yes, I'd be absolutely okay with that. Um, what do you think?"

"I think," Tara said slowly, "well, I know I-I want to make love to you more than I've ever wanted anything all my life…but you're right, it is kind of cramped, and…well, this will be our first time. If you can wait a little longer, I'd like it to be in a real bed as well."

"Okay," Willow said, hugging Tara tightly again, "okay…I'd like that too. A-and you're right, for our first time I'd have felt a bit, you know, like it wouldn't really have been proper until we got to a bedroom, and we can do all the things I've been imagining…"

"Oh?" Tara asked. "And what might those be?"

"As if you can't guess," Willow teased back.

"Well, I've got a couple of ideas of my own," Tara replied, "and I think they're worth waiting a couple of days for. We're due to get to the next town then, we'll see what our sleeping arrangements are like."

"So we might not have to wait until we get to Duncraig?" Willow said excitedly. "Well yay! How about that for having our cake and eating it?"

"I'm not planning on eating cake," Tara purred seductively. Willow looked curious for a moment.

"Oh," she said, blushing, "oh, yeah, um…well, we definitely need a proper bed, 'cause I think I'm going to be doing a fair bit of energetic writhing around."

"Yes you are," Tara promised, "and we could do with walls a bit more solid than canvas, too."

"Huh?" Willow asked.

"Because I can tell by the way you're looking at me," Tara explained in a sensual murmur, "that I'm going to be moaning at the top of my lungs." Willow leant into Tara's cleavage and gave her a soft, playful nip on her breast, which made her wriggle delightfully, before settling down next to her and half on top of her.

"You're really okay with waiting?" she asked.

"Yes, I am," Tara assured her.

"Me too," Willow said. "It might not be always easy, but it's for the best. And hey, it doesn't mean we can't see what it's like making love in a caravan wagon later on. I'm sure it has its points."

"It may at that," Tara mused. "What do you think would be better, at night when we're stopped, or during the day when we're moving? Or we could try both. What do you think?" She gave Willow a warm smile.

"I don't think there's ever going to be a dull moment," Willow said, smiling back.

"Not if I can help it," Tara promised. "Maybe one day we could test your theory and see what it's like making love in a puddle in the middle of a field?"

"Only if we wait until summer," Willow said.

"That's fine with me," Tara murmured, "I don't have any plans that don't involve being with you for a long, long time."

"Me too, baby," Willow said, "in fact…I-I know we're young, a-and all that, but still…I-I can't imagine ever wanting to be with anyone else."

"Me neither," Tara promised, enveloping Willow in a hug of her own.

"Mmm, in fact, I could spend my whole life right here," she said, closing her eyes and fully enjoying the softness of Tara's chest beneath her cheek. They lay together in content silence for a moment, before Willow opened her eyes and fixed Tara with a curious gaze.

"I meant to ask you earlier," she said, "what language was that song you sang to me?"

"High Amazonian," Tara said, "it's the language of all our songs and legends."

"It's really beautiful," Willow said, "and you've got such a perfect singing voice…do all Amazons speak that?"

"We learn it before we come of age," Tara explained, "children usually start learning it when they're fourteen or so, but it takes a while to master. We use Westlin normally, it's more flexible, but the old language is important to us. The way it sounds, the way it's put together, it defines who we are. It's a very structured language."

"How do you say 'I love you'?" Willow asked. Tara smiled leisurely.

"Me' te'ela," she said.

"Me' te'ela," Willow repeated, hugging her. "What about 'you're beautiful'?"

"Te'la," Tara said.

"Te'la. It's very similar to 'I love you'."

"It's the way the language is," Tara said, "to love is to recognize beauty. Te'la doesn't just mean you're attractive, it means you have beauty in your soul. You deserve love."

"I like this language," Willow mused. "So…how about 'looking at you makes me wet'?" she asked with a mischievous grin. Tara smiled at her.

"The best translation would be 'Me'elas te's'sori'."

"Me'elas," Willow repeated, "that's…something about 'my love'?"

"Very close," Tara said, impressed, "'me'' is me or my, 'ela' is love. 'Elas' is the body's physical capacity for love – High Amazonian is kind of sexual in a lot of ways. 'Me'elas' m-means 'my sex'. Usually literally, though depending on how it's used it can mean any part of the body that's, um, stimulated or aroused, or causing arousal in a partner."

"No kidding," said Willow, "I definitely like this language. So 'me'elas te's'sori' means…?"

"My sex weeps with joy for you," Tara murmured, her cheeks reddening.

"Wow," Willow said, "i-is everything erotic in High Amazonian so poetic?" Tara grinned shyly.

"Love is the founding concept of the language," she replied, "making love is a very special part of that. The structure of the language is, um, most elegant when it's being used to express things that are most important. That's why we learn it when we're at that age, it's part of learning about sex, and love."

"It's really beautiful," Willow said. "I'm definitely going to remember it."

"W-would you like to learn it?" Tara asked hesitantly. "I mean, it'd take a while, obviously, but I'm sure you'd catch on really fast…"

"I'd love that," Willow smiled. A thought occurred to her, and she raised an eyebrow suggestively. "You're not worried I'd wait until we're in a room full of people who won't understand it, and start telling you exactly what I'm going to do with you later on?" Tara's eyes went wide, and a smile played around the corners of her mouth.

"Ben me'elas's'sori," she replied.

"Ben me'elas…that makes you…?" Willow guessed.

"Uh-huh," Tara nodded. She slowly stroked her fingers up and down Willow's back, sighing contentedly at the feel of Willow lying against her. "D-do you want to start now?"

"Start what?" Willow said with a playful grin.

"Learning the language," Tara said with exaggerated patience. "Insatiable."

"Yup," Willow happily admitted. "Okay, let's go."

"How about I tell you a story?" Tara suggested. Willow nodded and settled herself in, reclining over Tara's body with her chin cradled in her cleavage, staring up at her face.

"I'tu a Ela'maso," she began, following with the translation: "In the time before Amazons – ile'se'nela u lea'la – there was born a beautiful woman – el'ela de co'a – kind and gentle – e'ti'Athulua – her name was Athulua.

"Her home was plagued by violence," Tara continued, translating as she went, "the people of her village struggling to survive while lords from far-away cities waged war through the land. As all her kind did, she learned to walk softly, to hear the approach of strangers and hide from them, and to live off what little the ravaged lands could provide. And above all, she and her people feared the soldiers, whose wars burned their crops, poisoned their soil and killed their animals.

"One year the wars were particularly vicious, and many of Athulua's people died. Athulua fled to the deepest forest, where few ever came, hoping the armies would pass her by. One day, when out gathering food, Athulua heard the approach of a stranger, someone who did not know the ways of her people to move quietly. She hid and watched, and saw a soldier, a woman with dark skin and strange attire, wandering through the forest. Athulua saw that the soldier was badly wounded, and knew that she would die soon. But she took pity on the poor woman, seeing her so hurt and lost, and so she followed her, and when at last the soldier fell to the ground from fatigue and dropped her spear, Athulua dared come out of hiding and approach her.

"The soldier's name was Kethryes, and though she had little food to spare, Athulua took her home and cared for her, unable to simply walk away and leave her to die. For many months Athulua searched the forest for food by day, coming back to her meager home in the evening to care for Kethryes. At first Kethryes couldn't understand Athulua's language, but little by little she learned to, and as she slowly regained her strength they talked, and became friends. As Kethryes healed, Athulua was glad to see her pain gone, but feared that she would lose her new friend once she was well enough to leave the forest and rejoin her army.

"Then one night the armies came to the deepest forest, and their fighting burned the land. Athulua and Kethryes fled, but with fires burning they became lost in the smoke, and soldiers captured them. They recognized Kethryes as one of her own and welcomed her, but Athulua was taken prisoner, to be sent to the lord of the army as a slave. The next night, when Athulua's guard was sleeping, Kethryes came to her and freed her. Together they escaped from the army and fled towards the coast, where they hoped to cross the sea and leave the wars behind for ever.

"They traveled far, coming to lands strange to both of them, and having only each other to take comfort in. During their journey they fell in love, Athulua with Kethryes's valiant spirit, Kethryes with Athulua's gentle soul. But unknown to them, the lord of Kethryes's army was greatly angered by her betrayal, and pursued her with many of his soldiers. And finally, after following their prey for many months, they caught Athulua and Kethryes, and Kethryes was taken prisoner while defending her lover so that she could escape.

"Athulua was alone, and had no god to pray to, so as she hid from the soldiers and cried she prayed to Kethryes, asking for her warrior spirit. She took Kethryes's spear and followed the soldiers to their camp, and as the sun set she attacked, swiftly defeating each soldier who challenged her, allowing them to run when they chose, but killing those who would not. She freed Kethryes and together they traveled far away from that land, and were never parted from each other again."

"And were never parted from each other again," Willow said, before Tara had translated the last line. Tara smiled down at her.

"You're a quick learner," she said.

"In all sorts of ways," Willow replied. "They were the first Amazons? And they became your gods?"

"That's right," Tara said, "as they traveled they met others who were searching for a better life, and together they made the journey to the islands, which everyone thought were too wild to be conquered. But they did, and now it's our home, and Athulua and Kethryes still love each other and all their people."

"Well, I don't know about all of the Amazons," Willow said, "but I know I love one of them. Tell me another story?" Tara laughed to herself.

"Alright," she said, stroking Willow's hair as she turned and rested her head against Tara's breasts. "How Zerae the gladiator was freed…"

Tara told Willow stories through the day, both content to stay lying with each other among their soft blankets, as the clouds outside darkened and began to rain. With no respite from the constant drizzle in sight the caravan master chose not to halt for lunch, stopping only long enough for everyone to take some food from one of the supply wagons. Willow and Tara scurried out for lunch, both under the cover of a single waterproof sheet, and retreated as quickly as they could to the shelter of their wagon, passing the sheet out to the driver in front and then closing the flaps at the front and back of the canvas cover as tightly as they could. While Willow was finishing the last of her bread Tara idly began to draw, refusing to let Willow see until she was finished. So, while Tara remained seated with her back against the piled-up crates, cushioned by blankets, drawing away, Willow lay down and rested her head in Tara's lap, listening as Tara told her more stories, some of them Amazon legends, some wandering tales that Tara made up as she went.

At last evening came, and the caravan drew to a halt, taking what shelter it could from a rise on the west side of the road. Willow got up and peered through a corner of the canvas flap as the wagons moved into a half-circle up against the rise, with the baggage and supply wagons outside and the sleeping wagons as well-protected as they could be behind them. Tryptin, beneath a heavy waterproof coat and hood, made his way around the Amazon wagons, distributing food for dinner so that no-one else would have to go out in the rain. Tara continued to draw through dinner, and Willow tried to guess what she was up to, just from watching the way she would frown in thought before applying a stroke of her pencil here or there, turning the page this way and that beneath the light of the oil lamp above them.

"I suppose we'd better get ready for bed," Willow said idly after both of them had finished eating, and her curiosity was really starting to get the better of her. Tara nodded absently and stared at her page for a moment before making a miniscule addition to it. Willow unfolded the blankets she had set aside to sleep under, and began laying them out over their makeshift bed, leaving the corner where Tara was sitting alone for the moment. That done she pulled off her boots and undid her belt, glancing at Tara as she did so. She wasn't sure, but she thought she caught a glimpse of Tara's eyes on her, and Tara's smile was definitely a little wider than it had been.

Willow sat herself opposite Tara, deliberately not making any effort to look over the top of her page, and began undoing the laces on the sides of her boots. Tara smiled wider, and made a final addition to her sketch before setting it aside, face-down, and looking up at Willow. Willow finished removing Tara's boots and looked at her, then at the paper, then back at her.

"Your masterpiece is finished?" she asked playfully.

"I don't know if I'd go that far," Tara admitted, "but yes, it's done."

"Do I get to see?" Willow asked.

"In a moment," Tara said softly, "when we're ready to go to bed." Willow grinned at Tara, enjoying the little game, and then sat up straight as she pulled her top over her head and let it fall behind her. She kept herself from meeting Tara's gaze, wanting her to have no distractions to draw her eyes away from the show Willow was putting on for her. Slowly she unhooked her bra at the back and drew her arms out of its shoulder straps, keeping it held to her chest with one hand as she did so. She finally looked at Tara, pleased to see Tara's eyes fixed on her hand as she slowly let it fall, revealing her breasts. Tara's lips parted as she took in a quick breath and held it.

"I've put a couple of robes aside," Willow said quietly, "in case we need to get dressed in a hurry…so, we could sleep naked, if you want?"

"I-I want," Tara breathed.

"I bet you do," Willow grinned at her, kneeling upright and undoing the waistband of her skirt. Tara's eyes followed it down her thighs, taking in every inch of skin revealed. Once the skirt was down around her knees Willow quickly pulled it back and off her legs, then sat down and leaned back, hooking her thumbs in the waistband of her underwear. Slowly, very much aware of Tara's intense gaze, she pulled the waistband down over her hips, lifting her bottom up off the blankets just long enough to slide the material out from underneath, and then dragging it down her legs. When she got as far as she could reach she lifted her right leg, pressing her hand to the back of her thigh as she lifted it up to her chest and slipped her foot through the loop. She then stretched both legs out straight, using her free foot to slide her underwear off her other leg, and looked at Tara.

Tara had the same expression she always did when Willow revealed herself for her, the serene mix of amazement and desire that always sent a thrill down Willow's spine. It was both at the thought of Tara being so enthralled by her body, and the suggestion of Tara's wilder side, that she showed only to Willow, the nervous anticipation of what Tara might do. In this case, after a moment in which she ran her eyes along the length of Willow's body, Tara reached slowly for the laces on her leathers.

"No," Willow said, surprising Tara. She lithely got up and knelt at Tara's side, gently removing her hands from the laces and taking hold of them herself.

"I did okay getting your boots off," she whispered in Tara's ear, "let me finish what I started." Tara's eyes went wide, and then she smiled at Willow and sat back, letting Willow attend to her clothes. Willow took her time loosening the laces of her armor, then pulled it off over her head, storing it out of the way. Next came Tara's thin shirt, and Willow made sure to graze her palms over Tara's breasts as she took that off, taking full advantage of the fact that Tara needed no bra so long as she had her armor to support her.

Willow had intended to proceed to Tara's leather skirt next, but the sight of Tara's breasts fully revealed to her sidetracked her badly. Watchful for any sign that Tara felt she was going too far, and detecting none, she took her breasts in her hands and gently pressed against them, squashing them lightly against Tara's body. She moved her hands in a slow circular motion, squeezing, lifting and releasing, while her thumbs stroked her nipples. Tara's breathing grew noticeably faster as Willow caught her nipples between her thumbs and the sides of her palms and began rolling them gently to and fro. Willow luxuriated in her fascination with Tara's breasts for some time, then – noticing Tara's eyes begin to close and her breathing becoming more like sighing – she took each nipple firmly between thumb and forefinger and squeezed, tugging gently at the same time.

Tara's reaction was immediate and dramatic. As soon as Willow applied the firm pressure to her nipples she arched her back as far as she could, pressing her breasts into Willow's surprised hands with more force than Willow had so far exerted. Tara's legs, crossed beneath her, uncoiled with a warrior's speed, closing again around Willow's waist and physically pulling her closer until Tara's leather skirt rode up around her hips and Willow's waist was pressed against the thin, and damp, material of her underwear. Finally, still before Willow had really had time to react, she sat up straight, one arm around Willow's back, hugging her close, with her hands still around Tara's breasts, now trapped by her own pressing in behind. Tara's other hand went to the back of Willow's head, holding her as she kissed her with all the wild passion Willow had been daydreaming about a moment ago.

Willow had opened her lips and invited Tara into her mouth before she even knew what was happening, and her first conscious reaction was to let her legs relax, letting Tara hold her exactly as she wanted. Tara licked at Willow's tongue, drew it out into her own mouth, then grazed her teeth across it as her lips continued to open and close against Willow's, making her shudder uncontrollably. Willow felt more sexual than she ever had in her life, naked in Tara's arms, giving herself to Tara to be pleasured in whatever manner Tara desired. A brief fantasy flitted through her mind, of Tara in full ceremonial armor, the image of a warrior, and herself standing naked against her, her nipples hard against the chill of a polished metal breastplate, inviting Tara to make love to her. The tail of the thought caught in her mind, and as the rest of the fantasy passed she held the image of looking into Tara's eyes and saying 'make love to me'.

Tara's lips slowed, and she released Willow from her embrace, holding her gently as they both caught their breaths.

"I-I didn't mean to react that…m-much," Tara said shyly.

"I'm so glad you did," Willow whispered, another shudder running through her body that she was powerless to suppress. Part of her wanted to throw herself back into Tara's arms, but she recognized that, while they waited for the right moment to give themselves over to their love completely, they had to maintain at least some control. She slowly extracted herself from between Tara's legs and reached down to undo her skirt. The catch came loose in her fingers, and Tara lifted herself slightly, letting Willow slide the skirt down her legs and off. Willow glanced up at Tara, resting the tips of her fingers on the waist of Tara's briefs, and on receiving a little nod from Tara, she slipped her fingers beneath the fabric and pulled it down. She wondered for a moment if she shouldn't look, if it would be somehow disrespectful to stare unashamedly at Tara's sex, but the way Tara relaxed her body and parted her thighs a fraction once her legs were free of her underwear drew Willow's eyes, and she spent a long moment simply taking in the sight of the patch of golden curls, and the lips of her sex beneath them, glistening slightly in the lamplight.

"Well," she said, her voice shaky, "time for bed, then?"

"Do you want to see my drawing first?" Tara murmured.

"Oh," Willow laughed quietly, "I forgot…I've been going nuts trying to figure out what it is all evening, but I guess somebody distracted me, you know?" Tara chucked to herself and reached out for the piece of paper – which showed off her breasts very well, Willow observed, as she reached behind herself – and handed it to Willow.

Willow recognized it at once, but nevertheless it took a moment for her to understand what she saw. Unlike the drawing of Tara's she had seen before, this one was completely detailed, with tiny, faint lines overlapping to create subtle shades, every inch of light and shadow accounted for. There were two figures, kneeling face to face, naked and almost glowing with the perfection of the smoothness of their skin. Tara was on the left, staring at Willow, and the scene was of their shared bathing, only the morning before. Tara's hand was between Willow's legs, gently touching her sex, and Willow's expression was one of absolutely pure joy. The way Tara had drawn her, with subtle plays of light on her face and in the shades behind her, made her look like an angel. Willow felt as if she was seeing two pictures at once, one sexual, herself brought to a serene peak of arousal by Tara's touch, the other of Tara worshipping her as a goddess, touching her as an offering to a divinity.

"Tara," Willow breathed, "th-this is…it's beautiful… gods…I look- d-do you really see me like this?"

"Always," Tara said. She gently took the page from Willow's unresisting hand and put it safely into their journal, nestling beside her earlier self-portrait.

"Oh gods Tara," Willow whispered, "I wish I could show you how I see you."

"You don't have to," Tara promised, "e-every time you look at me, I-I know."

Willow wanted to say something, anything, to tell Tara how much she loved her right then, but she couldn't find words to do it justice, and looking into Tara's eyes she realized she didn't have to.

"I love you," she murmured, knowing that Tara would understand how much those simple words meant.

"I love you too," Tara said, and Willow realized she had somehow succeeded, and Tara had heard all the unimaginable words she hadn't said, for she had said them back. Willow felt as though she would be able to glow with warmth in the middle of an icy river, as she lay down beside Tara, pulling the blankets up over them as Tara turned the lamp down, extinguishing it, and lay down. Willow lay on her side, in her accustomed position, but something about the way Tara wrapped around her tonight, the way her leg rested almost on top of Willow's, or the way her hand was pressed a little firmer into her body, made Willow shiver with delight, and dispelled any thought of getting to sleep easily. Willow remained still for a moment, listening to Tara's breathing, and the occasional muted voices from the caravan guards not far outside.

"Tara?" she asked eventually.

"Yes?" Tara purred, her silken voice leaving Willow in no doubt that she knew exactly how her insides were stirring.

"I-I love how you kissed me," she confessed. Tara held her a little closer, eliciting a sigh from Willow.

"I get a little nervous," Tara admitted, "sometimes I, y-you know…I get a bit wild, and it's not something I'm used to."

"You don't have to be nervous," Willow assured her, "when you get like that, I feel…um, I, uh, you don't have to, I know it might be a bit, well, a bit much, if we're not going to make love, but I'd…if you want, I want you to touch me, now. I-I want you to feel what you do to me. Would you?" Willow held her breath until she felt Tara's lips on the back of her neck, and her hand slowly move down over her stomach and across her waist.

Slowly, savoring every inch of the journey, Tara's fingers moved through Willow's dark red curls, tickling her slightly, before reaching the soft, yielding lips of her sex. Willow parted her thighs slightly, but otherwise held herself quite still, not wanting to do anything to distract Tara from what she was feeling. She was content to wait to make love, to endure the sweet, tantalizing longing for a little while more, but Tara's kiss had lit a fire inside her, the beauty of her drawing had fanned it, and Willow simply needed to have Tara touch her there once more. She wanted nothing more, but she knew she would be satisfied with nothing less. Tara's fingers moved over her sex, touching the wetness that had appeared there, touching with all the care in the world. Finally her palm pressed against Willow's curls, and her fingers stretched the length of her sex, cupped slightly to avoid putting too much agitating pressure on her clit, her fingertips resting around Willow's entrance further down.

"Ahhhh," Willow sighed, feeling her body react to Tara's touch, as though she had made everything in the world right. "You feel?" she whispered to Tara.

"I feel," Tara whispered back. Willow was mildly contemplating the end of the warming touch when the tip of Tara's index finger curled slightly, slipping just a fraction between the lips of her sex. She took two quick breaths before she could be entirely sure she wasn't about to thrust her hips down.

"Tara…?" she asked, not sure whether she was asking her to stop or continue.

"Do you w-want this?" Tara murmured. "Just this…d-do you?"

"Yesss," Willow hissed, opening her thighs a little more. Her fingers clawed the blankets as Tara's index finger slid slowly, tortuously slowly, into her sex, Willow's juices aiding her as she moved into her clenching tunnel. Finally, after a brief eternity, her hand rested against the lips of Willow's sex, and she was as deep as she could be inside her lover.

"Oh gods," Willow murmured, her heart hammering in her chest, "oh gods, oh Tara, my angel, my goddess, you're inside me, I can feel you inside me…"

"I'm inside you," Tara breathed right into Willow's ear. Somehow, even among the churning sensations, having Tara simply say the words lifted Willow higher.

"Oh my goddess," she whispered, "me'elas te'kin'las'sori…"

"That's right," Tara purred, "you're weeping oceans for me." Willow felt as though it was literal truth – she had never before been so wet short of climax, that through the myriad feelings emanating from Tara's finger, still motionless inside her, she thought she could feel her own juices trickling out of her sex, wetting Tara's hand and her own thighs. A single droplet ran down over the front of her thigh, and she shuddered, almost certain that her sex doubled its wetness just from the motion, from Tara's finger shifting slightly inside her as she trembled.

"Willow," Tara whispered, "I-I'm not ready to m-make you come, like this…if I do, I-I don't think w-we'll be able to stop…I want you to come, Willow…when I…I come out of you, w-will you t-touch yourself? Please?"

"Anything," Willow said, "oh gods Tara, I love you…"

"Come for me, Willow," Tara murmured, her finger moving insider Willow. Willow felt Tara press against her walls, at some spot she had never quite reached herself, and suddenly her eyes were closed, her mouth open, panting for breath, her heartbeat reverberating through her body, making her sex feel like it was pulsing, and as Tara's finger slid out of her, the need to feel release was too great to bear. Her hand went between her legs, as Tara's wet hand pressed against her stomach, and her other arm snuck underneath her to hug her, that hand flat against her chest, feeling her heartbeat. Willow exulted in Tara's tight hold, wasting no time in driving her index finger to the hilt in her own sex, grinding the heel of her hand against her clit at the same time. Normally that would have been enough, but the need Tara had created in her, the burning desire, demanded more from her. On the next outward thrust Willow lined her forefinger up alongside her index finger and buried both inside herself. It was something she only occasionally did, when the mood took her, and it always created reasonably spectacular results.

Now, though, with her palm stimulating her clit beyond endurance, with Tara's hands on her body, holding her tight, making her believe Tara could feel everything she did, and above all with the memory of Tara being inside her still so strong it was difficult to separate it from Willow's own penetration of herself, she felt herself break through some unknown boundary. She bit the blankets beneath her head hard to muffle her moan, and keep herself from screaming with joy, her sex gushed wetness over her fingers, and to Willow's mind, drowning in ecstasy, it seemed that Tara's tight, almost crushing embrace was all that kept her from literally exploding.

"Oh my gods," she panted, when the lights in her eyes stopped flashing and she had managed to unlock her jaws from their mouthful of blankets, "oh my gods…oh, my, gods!" she repeated again, stressing each word.

"I love you, my beautiful Willow," Tara murmured. Willow noticed that at some point she had returned her hug to the more relaxed embrace they slept in.

"Tara," she breathed, "do you…?"

"I'm fine," Tara promised, "don't worry, I'll make sure I get my turn…and w-we'll get our turn." Willow relaxed in Tara's arms, her breathing slowing back to normal.

"You know," she said quietly, "it seems like every time I come while you're holding me, or even just when I'm thinking about you, I'm over and done in the blink of an eye." She chuckled, and felt Tara laugh behind her.

"When w-we get a night of our own," Tara promised, "I'll make sure you're writhing for what'll seem like hours before you come." She pressed her lips to Willow's back, just below the base of her neck, and held them there for a long time, tickling Willow's skin with her tongue.

"Hours, huh?" Willow asked, slightly tempted to imagine it in so much detail that her hand would be back between her legs before she knew it.

"The first time," Tara said lightly, "then maybe I'll make you come again quickly."

"Oh?" Willow managed, glad she was already lying down, what with her legs going completely weak.

"But the third time," Tara breathed, "I'll really make it last…"

"Well," Willow said, "I know what I'll be dreaming of tonight."

"Me too," Tara replied, and Willow could practically hear her smile. "Goodnight Willow."

"Goodnight Tara. Sweet dreams."

"Always," Tara said, drowsily, "my dreams are always Willow-dreams." She dragged her fingers, still moist, across Willow's stomach, then lifted them and leaned over, so that Willow could just see her out of the corner of her eye, and watch as her perfect lips closed over her fingers and sucked them clean.

"And Willow-dreams," Tara went on, settling back behind her, "are always so, so sweet…"

The full High Amazonian text of the story Tara told to Willow can be found Here.

Chapter 20

Tara dreamed of home, and always Willow was there with her: watching the sunrise over the snow fields on the slopes of Mount Karcheus, walking among the huge, ancient trees of Philios, lying on the island shore with the waters of the Great Ocean lapping around their naked bodies. Slowly the dreams turned into waking reality, the motion of the waves becoming the gentle rocking of the wagon, the warm sun and sand becoming Willow's nest of blankets beneath her and covering her, and dream-Willow becoming real Willow, stretched out against her, lightly kissing around her collarbone. Willow sensed Tara was awake, and gave her a little lick at the base of her neck in greeting.

"Good morning to you too," Tara murmured, her voice thick with sleep.

"I was…having…" Willow said idly, between kisses, "this wonderful dream…earlier…"

"Oh?" Tara asked. "W-what about?"

"This," Willow said, kissing her again. "And this," she added, moving a little lower, tickling the top of Tara's cleavage with her tongue. "And this." She turned her head and kissed Tara right on the breast, her hand appearing to hold it firmly against her lips.

"And then what?" Tara breathed, her body suddenly very much awake.

"Then…I woke up," Willow murmured, "so I was thinking…if you want…we could see what happens next?" In response Tara wove her fingers into Willow's hair and gently held Willow to her breast as her lips resumed their explorations. Willow took both of Tara's breasts in her hands and massaged them, Tara encouraging her by arching her back, pressing herself into Willow's hands as the gentle holding turned into firm squeezing. Tara was torn between the sensations of Willow's forefingers and thumbs teasing her nipples, just as she had the night before – 'She learns so fast,' she thought gleefully – and the heat of her mouth, slowly kissing its way up the curve of her right breast, her lips parting each time they pressed against her to allow her tongue to graze Tara's skin.

She stifled a groan of dismay as Willow, on the verge of kissing her nipple, moved her head to the other side of her chest and started working her way up that breast in the same maddeningly patient way. This time, when she was barely an inch from Tara's nipple, she began circling around it, kissing underneath her breast, then the other side, then above, then back down to nudge her breast upwards, licking the very sensitive skin on the underside. Tara tried to find a pattern in Willow's motions, to discern when she would finally reach her goal, but her mind was in no state to think. She had only brief instants between Willow's kisses, which allowed her to think of nothing else, and all the concentration she could muster in those intervals was being used to restrain her vocal appreciation of Willow's attention to an aroused sighing.

"Please, Willow," she whispered, "please…goddess, please…" Willow moved up to look in her eyes, both hands squeezing her intensely, holding Tara's breasts to press against her own as she laid her body out on top of her.

"Touch yourself?" Willow asked in a whisper. "Please, Tara? While I kiss you?" Tara nodded at once – a moment longer and she wasn't sure she would have been able to wait for Willow to ask, and in any case she knew there was nothing she wouldn't do for the smile on her lover's face as she reached down with her free hand. Willow ducked back beneath the blanket covering them and resumed her attentions on Tara's breasts, going back and forth, kissing and licking closer each time. When Tara's hand went between her legs Willow lay her stomach down on top of her forearm, so that every move Tara made with her hand was passed through the contact with Willow. Tara perversely teased herself for a long moment, stroking the sensitive skin where her inner thighs met her body, then running her fingers over the surface of her sex, keeping her thumb well clear of her clit for the moment. Even when she finally parted her lips she denied herself, letting the tip of her finger slide inside herself just a fraction, then pulling it back as her hips moved of their own accord, trying to deepen the penetration. Willow seemed to sense what she was doing, and began allowing brief, feather-light touches on her nipples, quickly and lightly licking them, her head bobbing from one side to the other. Tara made herself wait for Willow – the need she felt each time she refused to allow her sex more than a taste of satisfaction was nothing compared to the feel of Willow's mouth on her breasts.

Finally Willow relented, and Tara gasped and threw her head back as warmth closed over her, the warmth of Willow's mouth sucking on her nipple, her tongue caressing the nub of flesh between her lips. For a split second Tara felt as if her body had inverted itself, as if her own hand between her legs was just a mild stimulation, and her real orgasm was about to burst out of her chest into Willow's mouth. Then, with the rhythmic pressure of Willow's stomach on her wrist urging her on, she let her finger go deep within herself, and the real strength of her sexual urge came into play. She felt as if her arousal was moving through herself and Willow, she arching her back, thrusting herself up to Willow who licked and sucked her nipple with abandon, her lower body rocking against Tara's wrist, returning the arousal into Tara's sex through her hand. Tara felt her climax building with incredible speed.

"Not yet," Willow gasped in the brief interval as she moved to Tara's other breast, lavishing the same affection on it. Tara felt as though her hand and her sex were no longer entirely under her control – she thrust and curled her finger within herself, finally letting her thumb rub against her clit, circling and stroking it, but at the same time, despite the intense pressure building inside her, she believed it would be impossible for her to find release until Willow let her. The conflicting sensations – Willow bestowing such pleasure on her, giving her so much, while at the same time having such power over her – were intoxicating. Tara didn't know whether, in her mind, she was reclining regally for Willow to please, or giving herself over for Willow to feast on. Both images flitted through her thoughts, as she continued to feed Willow the pleasure she was thrusting into herself. The tiny part of her mind still capable of rational observation flatly refused to believe she hadn't reached climax already. Her sex felt voracious, hoarding the pleasure it should have released by now, and the thought of the flood of feeling building inside her was so erotic it was almost frightening.

Willow's word or no, Tara knew she couldn't contain herself much longer. Her entire body was tingling, and where there was stimulation of any kind, whether it was Willow's lips around her nipples, with her tongue working furiously, and her hands grasping both breasts in a massage of delightful intensity, or her own fingers on her aching sex, both inside herself and working her clit and her lips, of even just the contact of Willow's body on hers, where even amid the dizzying sensations she was aware of Willow's breasts against her stomach, her legs around Tara's, no matter where they touched Tara felt as if the gods were giving her body new life. Her climax built, and Willow, sensing it, looked up at the same moment as Tara lifted her head to look down, her eyes sparkling in the shadow of the blanket over her head, her parted lips breathing hot air over Tara's glistening nipple.

"Now," she said, before returning to bury her face in the softness of Tara's breasts, sucking her nipples as if she were trying to swallow them, lavishing attention on her with lips, tongue and hands. Tara felt something begin within herself, like the tremble of premonition before an avalanche, and buried her finger deep within herself as she rubbed her clit as hard as she could bear, bringing herself finally over the edge. It took all her self-control not to scream, such that she lost all control of her body and went completely limp beneath Willow, arms and legs useless, her hand on her sex moved only by Willow's gyrating stomach, all except for her core, which gathered all her pleasure, held it for a tortuous moment, then released it in a cataclysmic wave that turned her skin to heat, her bones to water and her blood to pure arousal. For a moment she forgot nearly everything, where she was, who she was, how she was touching herself and what Willow was doing to her – all she knew was that Willow was loving her, and as far as she could tell that had always been and would always be. A tightness in her chest reminded her to breathe, and brought her back to reality.

"Don't stop," Willow gasped. Tara had begun to move her hand away from her sex, but Willow caught it and pressed her soaked fingers onto her clit, and the pent-up sensitivity that would in a second more have made it too tender to comfortably touch flashed into a burning need to come again. Tara didn't fully understand what Willow wanted, only that her body did understand, and was complying without question. Her fingers, still wet with her own juices, moved around and over her clit in quick, desperate motions, her other hand squeezed her breasts which Willow had unaccountably left to their own devices, moving from one to the other, gathering the moisture Willow's mouth had left there. She felt another climax begin to build within herself, and wondered how it could exceed the first, then Willow's lips touched her sex, and she knew.

She was suspended for a moment in time, experiencing that first kiss to her sex, Willow's lips soft against her most intimate place, caring, loving, not demanding but merely asking, gently pleading for her climax. Tara felt herself tense to come again, then tentatively, almost shyly, Willow's tongue was parting her lips and tasting within her for the first time. Once more Tara became blind to everything around her and inside her except for Willow. Then she came, and felt everything in minute detail, in slowed time – her body exploding, bursting with pleasure and life, her sex tightening around the gentle intruder within it, the liquid proof of her arousal traveling within her in a tide, and Willow's lips opening to accept it.

"Goddess!" she yelled as she felt Willow drink from her sex, the sensation magnified in her mind out of all proportion, to herself gushing like a raging river, and Willow the ocean into which she flowed.

"Lady?" came a concerned voice from the other side of the canvas separating the inside of the wagon from the driver's seat at its front.

"Just praying!" Tara called out, without ever consciously forming the idea or the intention to speak. She then clamped her free hand over her mouth as Willow gently lapped up her arousal, setting off a series of trembling aftershocks in Tara's sex as she diligently cleaned every inch of skin she could find. Finally, after Willow had licked the entirety of Tara's sex, her inner thighs, her hand lying limp next to her clit, and a substantial portion of her waist and stomach where she couldn't possibly have gotten any of her juices, she moved up and peeked her head out of the blanket. Tara had just enough strength to wrap her arms around her as she settled beside her.

"Just praying?" Willow asked quietly. Tara again clamped her hand securely over her mouth, but could do nothing to prevent the fit of giggles she and Willow both collapsed into.

"Well," she gasped at last, keeping her voice down, "it seemed appropriate."

"Amazon gods do that sort of thing?"

"Oh yes," Tara said, stroking Willow's hair, "all the time. Athulua and Kethryes…Zerae and her husband Hefaetrus…and especially Elasia. She's the goddess of love…well," she corrected herself, "that's not quite accurate, all our gods feel love. Elasia is the goddess of sex."

"Wow," Willow murmured, "you've got one of those?"

"Absolutely," Tara said, "it's a very important part of life, just as much as the seasons, and the harvests."

"So that was a prayer to Elasia?" Willow grinned.

"That," Tara said languorously, "was you making me scream for joy." Willow grinned broadly and wriggled herself against Tara.

"Elasia blesses any…" Tara searched for the right word, "any sharing of pleasure between people. Even if it's two people who aren't truly in love having sex because they want to please each other. Elasia shares her love with people then, so that even when they aren't truly in love, they're never completely without love, either. But when two people are truly in love, and share their love, Elasia knows there's nothing she could do to make it any better."

"I love you so much," Willow whispered, burying her face in Tara's hair.

"I know," Tara said, "oh, goddess, I know. I love you, Willow. Even the gods couldn't give me love like this."

"Oh Tara," Willow sighed, "Tara, Tara…you know, at this rate we'll have nothing left to do when we finally get our own bedroom." Tara laughed with Willow, winding her fingers through her hair and stroking her.

"Oh I don't think so," she said, "I think we'll have plenty to do, once we don't need to worry about making too much noise, or bumping into the sides of the wagon." Willow looked up at her, and Tara gave her a sly, thoughtful grin.

"What've you got in mind?" Willow asked, narrowing her eyes with playful intensity.

"Well," Tara purred, "you know those kisses you like so much?"

"Oh yes," Willow said happily, "lots of those!"

"I thought," Tara said softly, interrupting Willow's glee for a moment, "I'd lie down between your legs, and kiss your sex just like that. And," she added, giving Willow a shy grin, "I won't stop until you climax." Willow was wide-eyed, and looked slightly stunned.

"Well," she gulped, "that'll take all of two seconds."

"Wait and see," Tara promised, "I think it'll be much, much longer…just as long as you can bear." She leaned over to whisper in Willow's ear: "And one second more." Willow shivered, which felt quite delightful to Tara as she was still lying tightly up against her.

"Speaking of arousing me to complete distraction," Willow said, "do you think it's possible for an Amazon to bring a sorceress to climax just by whispering in her ear?"

"One of these days I'll find out," Tara grinned.

"Very nearly today," Willow replied, leaning up on her elbows to kiss Tara. She took her time, Tara letting her tease and taste her mouth with contented patience, only occasionally trapping Willow's tongue between her teeth for an instant and licking it. Willow took full advantage of Tara's relaxed state, indulging herself in exploring Tara's lips, mouth and tongue at length and in detail.

"I didn't want to start the day without giving you a good morning kiss," Willow said matter-of-factly as she lay back down, her head on Tara's shoulder.

"Of course not," Tara replied, "seeing as you've kissed just about every other part of me already."

"Yeah, there is that," Willow admitted. "You know what? You taste absolutely divine." Tara felt herself blush. Willow kissed her again, just quickly, and sat up to reach behind herself for something. She turned back with a small package wrapped in paper and a gourd to find Tara shamelessly enjoying the view of her naked body.

"Considering another drawing?" she teased.

"Maybe," Tara allowed, "but you know, I-I kind of prefer drawing myself for you."

"Are you sure?" Willow asked playfully. "I could pose for you."

"You could," Tara said, "but I don't think I'd get any drawing done. What's that?"

"Breakfast," Willow said, unwrapping the package to reveal half a loaf of soft bread and another paper-wrapped object which turned out to be cheese. "Bread, cheese, there's an apple back there if you want it, and fruit juice. Tryptin dropped them off just after I woke up."

"Nice of him," Tara said, "I thought we'd missed breakfast. We're moving," she added, "what time is it?"

"Still at least couple of hours to midday," Willow said. "We got underway while you were asleep."

"I noticed when I woke up," Tara admitted, "but then, someone distracted me before I could think about it."

"Well, sorry about that," Willow grinned, "but you just looked good enough to eat."

"You don't need to be sorry at all," Tara assured her. "I've never in my entire life felt so, so loved, so cherished…so satisfied…" She sat up and knelt next to Willow, wrapping her arms around her waist. "I-I've never come so hard," she added with a bashful smile.

"Get used to it," Willow purred, grinning from ear to ear. She glanced down at the half-prepared breakfast. "You know, suddenly that doesn't look so appetizing anymore." Tara kissed her softly, just opening her mouth the fraction she needed to grab Willow's bottom lip and suck on it, then swatted her lightly on the bottom.

"Vixen," she said at Willow's surprised squeak.

"Guilty as charged," Willow admitted. "My poor tender bottom," she added, pouting adorably.

"Poor Willow," Tara said consolingly, "want me to kiss it better?" Willow's expression changed instantly from pretended sorrow to sincere satisfaction.

"Maybe later," she murmured with a smile. "We should eat, even if it is just boring old caravan food." She and Tara divided up the meal and made short work of it, both having something of an appetite from not having eaten until so late in the morning. Tara ended up leaning back against the side of the wagon, a blanket around her shoulders, with Willow sitting between her legs and leaning back on her, holding up an apple for her to take bites out of now and then.

"Not so bad," Willow said idly, finishing the last of the bread roll in her free hand. "Still, get me a fire and some pots and we'll have a proper meal some time."

"You cook?" Tara asked.

"Oh yeah," Willow said, "yeah, my mother started teaching me before I went to learn sorcery, and I kept dabbling in it over the years. Don't you?"

"Well, I can cook," Tara admitted, "but, you know, only if there's no alternative. I wouldn't say I'm better than average."

"It's a lot like magic," Willow went on, "sort of a mix of method and inspiration. Part of it is knowing what to do, which ingredients, how long to cook them, which flavors work and which don't…and part of it is just instinct. You feel how everything is coming together as you're cooking, and you just know what to do. I used to practice after lessons every day. It took a while – sometimes I ended up wishing I'd just gone to the dining hall like everyone else – but I'm pretty good at it now. When we get the chance I'll make you something. You don't eat meat, do you?"

"Not if I can avoid it," Tara said. "I mean, out in the wild you eat what'll keep you alive. I don't mind it, particularly, but I prefer not to."

"I've got a cream sauce that goes great with vegetables," Willow said, "and given a couple of spices you'll just love what I can do with carrots."

"I bet I would," Tara purred. Willow missed the meaning of the comment for a moment, but after nodding vaguely she sat bolt upright and spun around, looking amusingly scandalized.

"Tara!" she protested, trying not to laugh. Tara licked her lips seductively, then couldn't help herself any longer and fell sideways, laughing as she hit the blankets. Willow jumped on top of her.

"You naughty little minx!" she proclaimed, straddling Tara's hips.

"Who's little?" Tara laughed. "I'm taller than you."

"Not when you're lying down you're not," Willow declared hotly, shifting herself up to Tara's waist to keep her from getting away, and tickling her sides. Tara writhed beneath her, laughing herself silly and in no condition to defend herself. Her efforts to catch Willow's wrists, or at least tickle her in return, were hampered by her distraction at feeling the warmth of Willow's sex pressing down on her stomach.

"You're enjoying this," she said, after managing to gulp down a breath of air between giggles.

"You bet I am," Willow replied. She gave Tara some respite, sitting back on her heels and looking down at Tara beneath her.

"Well," she said appreciatively, "I can see one way you're definitely not 'little'." Tara followed Willow's gaze down to herself. She wriggled a little, enjoying Willow's aroused "Mmm" as her breasts wobbled.

"One thing I don't understand," Willow went on, laying herself down on top of Tara's legs, with her head resting on her stomach, "is how you don't just lock yourself in your room and play with yourself all day." Tara laughed, which caused her chest to shudder quite expressively, and Willow to "Mmm" again.

"I-I never really thought about them," Tara admitted, "they're just, you know…me. A bit bigger than most of the other girls, not too big to fit into armor and use a longbow with. There was a little while when I was, um, developing a bit earlier than most of the girls, and I felt a bit awkward…but apart from that, u-until you came along, they were just…my breasts. Nothing special."

"Nonsense," Willow said lazily, "everything about you is special, and that most certainly includes your luscious, soft, beautiful, abundant," she started drawing circles around Tara's breast with a finger, "warm, sensual, yielding," she poked Tara gently to demonstrate, "smooth, wonderful, bountiful, flawless," Tara was gazing down at Willow, wondering how long she could go on, "inviting, tempting, titillating, hah, luscious, oh wait, I already said that, doesn't matter, they're worth saying it twice…where was I?"

"Luscious, and titillating before that," Tara murmured, utterly entertained by Willow's ongoing declaration.

"Oh yeah, that's right," Willow said, "I'd just started on all the adjectives about how every time I see you naked I just want to leap into your arms and feel your breasts in my hands, and wrap my legs around your waist, and kiss you, and I'm getting sidetracked…I've lost my train of thought again."

"I-I think you were saying you like my breasts," Tara grinned.

"Well, just so long as you've got the idea," Willow allowed. She kissed Tara's navel, wriggling her tongue around for a moment, then shuffled up her body and laid her head down on her breasts.

"Mmm, I can hear your heart," she murmured. "This'd be a lovely way to go to sleep…it's not uncomfortable, is it?"

"Not at all," Tara said, "b-but isn't it a little early to be going back to sleep? I mean, we just woke up…"

"Not now," Willow explained, "I was just adding the idea to my list of things to do. I'm making a list in my head, 'Things to do with naked Tara'. It's quite extensive."

"Really?" Tara asked.

"Oh yeah…let's see, go to sleep using Tara-breasts as pillow, that'll be number…one hundred thirty-eight."

"You have an orderly mind," Tara observed.

"I do indeed," Willow agreed, "most of the time. Except when you kiss me, then my brain sort of melts, and the best thought I can come up with is 'mwaaa'."

"Mwaaa?"

"Something like that," Willow said, "it's difficult to concentrate."

"When I kiss you?" Tara asked seductively.

"It starts when you kiss me," Willow clarified, "although, sometimes even earlier…"

"Come here, my love," Tara breathed. Willow lifted herself up and leaned over Tara, lowering her lips for Tara to kiss. The way Tara kissed her, she felt as if her lips were the only truly real part of her, that their kiss was anchoring her to the world, and without it she'd be blown away on some ethereal breeze. Tara lifted her head, probing into Willow's mouth, making full use of her remarkably agile tongue to reach every corner. While it lasted, Willow was no more able to pull away from the kiss than she was to leave her own body – she lifted herself up over Tara, as high as she could, then arched her back, pressing their bodies together, then laid herself out along the length of Tara's body, writhing slowly to gain as much contact as she could. Finally, with one last tug at Willow's lip, Tara released her and lay her head back down.

"Mwaaa," Willow said, resting her head on Tara's shoulder, enjoying the sound of her laughter, and the way Tara's body moved beneath her.

The caravan halted for lunch, to rest its animals for the afternoon's long haul to the next town and to give its passengers a chance to stretch their legs. A stream passed fifty feet from the road, in clear sight of it, so Willow and Tara both took the opportunity to wash some of their clothes, trusting the cloudless sky to the north not to rain on them while they were drying later. After lunch Tara spoke with Tryptin for a while, and he passed on what he knew about the schedule the Duncraig ambassadors had decided on, while Willow made an effort to catch up on her studies and start work on a report to send from Duncraig, having fallen behind in her own self-imposed schedule due to unforeseen distractions.

"Unforeseen distractions?" Tara asked when Willow told her. "I'm an unforeseen distraction now?"

"I was thinking of the whole demon-summoning incident," Willow corrected her with a grin, "but if I were going to blame you for not getting any work done, you'd be more of a 'delightful I've-found-my-purpose-in-life distraction'. I don't think the Zann Esu really need me to tell them that much detail anyway, it's not like they're watching over my shoulder exactly. They'll probably be surprised I'm writing a progress report at all."

The weather held fine during the afternoon, allowing them to roll up the roof of the wagon and ride in comfort with the sun on their faces. Tara set to work with pen and paper once more, teasing Willow that she wanted a visual record of their morning activities. Willow leapt across the wagon, blushing furiously, to find a landscape of the Kingsway highlands taking shape on Tara's page.

"You enjoy teasing me altogether too much," she protested playfully, picking up her fallen book and replacing it in its satchel. Tara merely raised an eyebrow and kept her eyes on her work. Willow lay down with her head in Tara's lap and hummed to herself for a while, basking in the sunlight and the soft caress of Tara's fingers through her hair whenever she paused to consider her drawing.

"Where are we staying tonight?" she asked after a short while.

"Sorenstad," Tara replied absently, tapping the back of her pen against her bottom lip thoughtfully, "it's more or less the northern border of the Kingsport realm. Beyond this the people are spread pretty thin until we get to Duncraig's southern outposts. We'll be staying at the inn tonight," she added, glancing down at Willow with a grin.

"Inn as in with separate rooms?" Willow enquired, suddenly very interested.

"I don't know," Tara admitted, "Tryptin mentioned that most of the caravan would be in communal bedrooms, but he said he thought they'd probably have a private room for the ladies."

"How private?" Willow purred.

"We'll have to wait and see," Tara said.

Sorenstad was a small town with farmland stretching for miles around it. However, all its people seemed to have moved behind the high earth and wood stockade surrounding the town proper – as the caravan made its way slowly through the single gateway and into the inn's yard, both Willow and Tara stared around at the mass of humanity crowding the small town, at the lean-tos and makeshift shacks that surrounded nearly every permanent building, and the men, women and children having their evening meals on stools and tables by the roadside outside their temporary lodgings, for want of space within.

"I wonder if the inn will have room for us," Tara murmured to herself. Willow took her hand, looking sympathetic. They gathered the gear that was too valuable to leave to the wagons, even with an unlucky few of the caravan guards on night watch – Willow's books, Tara's spear – and dropped down off the wagon as it rolled into the yard, the driver slotting it neatly into the space between one of the Duncraig wagons and the side of the inn and getting down to see to the horses. Tara, with Willow in tow, wandered towards the inn's front, where Tryptin was in discussion with a burly harassed-looking man who they took for the innkeeper. They caught only a word or two – "unforeseen" and "trying times" from the innkeeper, "can't be helped" from Tryptin – before he signaled to the lieutenant of the caravan guards and shook hands with the innkeeper. He spotted Willow and Tara, and paused by them on his way back to the wagons.

"Miss Willow," he said politely, with a nod of greeting for Tara. "The inn is more crowded than they're used to," he explained, "they have enough beds for us, but barely. There's only one spare private room though, and you'll be sharing it with a woman and her child. Um, the room's only fitted for two," he added, looking slightly sheepish, "you don't mind sharing a bed?"

"Of course not," Tara said, squeezing Willow's hand to communicate her shared disappointment.

"Thank you," Tryptin said sincerely, "I'm sorry about this, I hoped for better, but there's little we can do. Some of the emissaries will be sleeping in the wagons as it is, although I dare say they'll be comfortable enough. Oh, while I think of it, I'll be sending Melcan down to the general store in a while to buy some extra blankets, just in case it gets cold tonight, could you use a few more? It'll be a few days to the next town, and we'll be moving further into the highlands."

"Thank you," Tara said.

"That's very kind," Willow added.

"Well, that's what I'm here for," Tryptin said, shrugging off the praise, "keep everyone happy and safe until we get home again. I've asked the innkeeper to show you to your room once he's finished talking to our lieutenant. There's a dining room here, but I'd recommend taking something up to your room from the supply wagon, it's liable to be a bit crowded and I can't say how good the food will be. Come to me if you need anything," he added, turning back to the caravan.

"Thanks," Willow called after him. "No room of our own?" she grumbled to Tara. "You've got to be kidding me."

"I'm sorry sweetie," Tara said.

"Hey, I'm the one who should be sorry," Willow argued, "considering how I woke you up…I kind of figured we'd have tonight to ourselves."

"It's okay," Tara said warmly, "I'm fine, really."

"Really?" Willow asked. "Sharing a room with strangers?"

"I just have to think, would I rather be here with you," Tara explained, "or absolutely anywhere else in the world. That's not even a choice. Besides," she added, leaning over to whisper in Willow's ear, "I'm not the one who wasn't satisfied this morning."

"Oh I was satisfied plenty," Willow assured her. "Sated, you might say. If you're fine, I'm fine. Now let's go get us a room."

"Sounds good," Tara said. Willow nodded, then got a curious look in her eyes.

"'Sweetie'?" she asked. Tara grinned.

"Because you're so sweet," she whispered, "in all sorts of ways."

"So are you," Willow replied in a hushed voice, "and believe me, I'm in a position to know. Or, at least, I was in a position to know earlier, and I intend to be again as soon as possible. When's the next town due?"

"Five days, I think," Tara said. "Willow, do you…I-I mean, if it makes you, you know, worked up, w-would you prefer I didn't talk about… well, tease you so much?"

"Absolutely not," Willow said firmly, "I may end up being driven so nuts they'll have to put me in an asylum once we get to Duncraig, but gods it's wonderful!" Tara smiled broadly.

"Good," she said, "I'm glad. I-I like it too…I like making you blush," she admitted.

"Me too," Willow agreed. "I mean, you making me blush…and me making you blush, also, so I didn't really need to clarify that," she went on to herself, "'cause whichever way you took it, it still would've been right…"

"You have an easier job," Tara noted, "I blush easily."

"Yeah, you're real shy," Willow said, "right up to the point where you start making love to me like you're going to devour me."

"M-making love?" Tara asked.

"Well, you know," Willow explained, "I know we haven't, but I was thinking earlier, we kind of have…I mean, there's not a lot we haven't, um, shared between us, you know? A-and the way it feels, even if it's just a kiss, it's like…you've made love to me, you really have. I feel like you've given me all of yourself."

"I have," Tara whispered, "and I-I feel the same…"

"So, I guess," Willow went on, "I feel like we have made love, in all sorts of ways…a-and there's ways we haven't, yet, of course, but…I mean, if I had to choose, I'd rather just be with you, just together, like sitting on a bench in a park, or walking through a market holding hands, I'd rather that, and feel loved the way you make me feel, than have sex in every mind-blowing way humanity's ever thought of, if I didn't feel loved. It's just…it's you," she finished with a tiny, sweet smile, "you *are* love."

"Oh Willow," Tara murmured, "goddess, you are so wonderful… I love you, I wish I had words for how much."

"You do," Willow promised, "in your eyes, you do." Tara stared at her in complete adoration.

"If we weren't standing in the middle of a town," she whispered, "I would kiss you, right now, so much…"

"I know," Willow said, "I really do." She hugged Tara briefly, then held her hand as they walked towards the supply wagon. Behind them, the innkeeper had just finished talking to the lieutenant.

"When we get a room of our own," Tara said, "I'm still going to think of it as our first night, though."

"Yeah, me too," Willow agreed, "it'll always be special."

"Speaking of all sorts of mind-blowing ways of making love," Tara whispered in Willow's ear, "remind me later to tell you about the Books of Elasia."

"Elasia has books?" Willow asked, very interested. "How many? Are they…like, detailed books?"

"Very detailed," Tara said, "very long, and there's about a hundred of them."

"And they're…" Willow prompted.

"They're not the kind of thing I can tell you about in a public place," Tara grinned.

"Oh," Willow said, eyes wide, "and you've read them?"

"Not yet," Tara said, "but one day, maybe…if you want, of course…if we go back home, to Tran Athulua, we could read them together?"

"Consider it done," Willow said, keeping her voice low as they approached the innkeeper. Tara smiled to herself, slightly oblivious to the world around her. She hadn't realized, when she had thought of reading the books together, that a simple teasing suggestion would actually involve asking Willow to come with her half-way around the world. The way Willow had agreed without even a shadow of hesitation, and the sincerity in her voice, telling Tara she knew exactly what she was saying, filled her heart with joy.

Chapter 21

The innkeeper led them to the private bedroom reserved for women visitors, apologizing for the overcrowding as he went. He seemed a little in awe of Tara, while Willow got away with just a curious glance – she had worn a simple robe over a skirt and tunic, while Tara wore light leather armor as usual, and her spear was a lot more distinctive than Willow's plain staff. Their room was small but quite pleasant, for an inn in a border town, having a north-facing window with a scenic view over the roofs of the adjacent buildings out onto the highlands, and contained a modest wardrobe, a dresser with a small mirror, two beds, a small fireplace, an apprehensive-looking woman and a child of four or five, who stared at Tara in wonder. Willow squeezed Tara hand and nodded to the wardrobe. Tara stored her spear up on top of it, safely out of the child's reach, while Willow lay her staff down on the unoccupied bed and smiled at their roommates.

"Hello," she said, "I'm Willow. This is Tara."

"H-h-hello," the woman said nervously, "I-I'm Deanne, th-this is Kristal, m-my daughter." Willow crouched down to look the young girl in the eye, holding out her hand and shaking gently when Kristal tentatively took it.

"Hello Kristal," she said with a smile, noticing Deanne, despite her anxiety, smiling too at her daughter's adorably courteous acceptance of Willow's hand.

"I-is sh-she…" Deanne started, "i-is she an A-amazon?"

"Yep," Willow said casually, staying crouched – she was no taller than Deanne, but the woman was hunched in on herself, and Willow didn't want to seem intimidating, even in the slightest way.

"M-my lady," Deanne said, curtseying as Tara came over to meet her.

"Oh, no," she said, slightly flustered, "you don't have to…just 'Tara'. Hello. Um, we brought some food, for dinner, you're welcome to join us? I-if you don't have other plans, I mean." Deanne looked somewhat taken aback at Tara's gentle manner. Willow wondered what she had first thought when the innkeeper had told her she would be sharing her room with an Amazon, but she was glad to see the tension evaporating from the woman. Kristal studied Tara intently, as if cataloguing every detail of her.

"Th-that's very kind of you," Deanne said, "I-I was going to go down to the dining hall, b-but if it's no trouble…I'd appreciate it."

"No trouble," Willow said brightly, "pull up a seat. Or bed, as it were." Deanne even smiled at her joke as they sat on their beds, Tara moving the small nightstand between them to serve as a table, and starting to unwrap and lay out the food they had taken from the caravan supplies.

"D-did you come from Kingsport?" Deanne asked Tara, while Willow took a jug of water and poured it into the pot over the fire.

"Yes," she replied, "we're headed for Duncraig."

"Oh," Deanne said, biting her lip for a moment before venturing another question. "Wh-what was it like? In Kingsport?"

"It's a big city," Tara said hesitantly, "and we were only there for a day. Um, it seemed very…busy. Lots of activity – from the docks, and in the markets."

"We – that is, m-my daughter and I, and my- bodyguard," Tara noticed Deanne give a slight hesitation there, "are heading to Kingsport. We haven't decided yet whether to try to settle there, or take a ship somewhere else. I thought, perhaps, we might find work in the city…Teban is very skilled with his hands, he used to be a craftsman, a-and I can write…"

"Th-that sounds likely," Tara hazarded when Deanne paused, looking slightly worried, "from what I heard the sea trade is bringing a lot of wealth to the city. I-I'd imagine there's a lot of demand for craftsmen, and scribes. It's a bit…well, I suppose all ports are a bit unruly," she went on, "but if you've got a bodyguard I'm sure you won't have any trouble at all…and the Baron's a very good ruler, he's very fair."

"P-perhaps we'll be able to stay there," Deanne said with a hopeful smile, "it would be nice not to be always traveling…you'd like that, dearest?" she added to Kristal, smiling warmly. "A proper home?"

"Will we see the sea?" the girl asked.

"Yes dearest," Deanne said, "we will." She turned her attention back to Tara, and Willow as she returned with hot water for their soup. "We've been on the road a long time," she explained.

"Did you come from Duncraig?" Willow asked.

"We passed through there a month ago," Deanne said, "but we couldn't afford to stay long in the city itself, and Teban suggested we try Kingsport, rather than one of the villages around the city. We're used to a city, you see, we came from Gotunberg."

"Really?" Willow said, "I studied just outside there for a while, at the hospice."

"Y-you're a healer?" Deanne asked.

"No," said Willow, "I'm a sorceress, but my order sends us there for the library, and some of us are healers, so they train with the doctors there…"

"A-a sorceress?" Deanne said, wide-eyed. "Y-you can do m-magic?"

"Yeah," Willow said shyly, "well, only cold magic, but yeah."

"I-I d-didn't realize," Deanne stuttered.

"Oh it's no big deal," Willow said. "You came all the way from Gotunberg?" she asked, not really comfortable being the center of attention. "That's a long journey."

"I-it's taken quite a while," Deanne replied, "we took a ship across the gulf, to Leorgrad, and then up the Sulga river into the mountains, a-and across to the start of the Kingsway, and down to Duncraig…it's been a long journey," she finished with a shy grin, "it'll be good to settle down again."

"I got to swim," Kristal interjected, "in a big pool that was all hot and tingly." Deanne smiled fondly.

"At Soltram," she explained, "up in the mountains near the source of the Kingsway, they have these pools of water that just…well up out of the rocks, and they're warm, from the heat deep inside the ground. All the children play in them, so we had to teach Kristal to swim, so she could join in."

"Will there be swimming in the city?" Kristal asked.

"Not in the sea, dearest," her mother said, "it's dangerous. Maybe there'll be pools near the river mouth, though," she added, to dispel Kristal discontented pout, which was replaced with a gleeful smile.

"Thank you," the girl said politely as she took a bowl of soup from Willow.

"Thank you," Deanne said. "A-are you both going to Duncraig?"

"Initially," Willow replied as Tara started on her soup, "I'm traveling to study with mages all over Westmarch, and Duncraig is my first real port of call for that. Eventually I'll be going further into Westmarch, and further east as well, into Khanduras."

"A-and you're traveling together?" Deanne asked.

"It was just coincidence," Willow explained, "I'd been in Kingsport a day and I was sitting in the wagon reading, and in climbs this fine figure of a warrior," she nodded to Tara, "who fortunately is the loveliest soul you could ever hope to meet," she added in a fake conspiratorial whisper to Deanne. Tara seemed to glow with affection.

"Still, as surprise entrances go," Willow went on with a grin. "I mean, the armor, she was carrying that spear, and had a bow on her back, looking all Amazon…and there's me sitting there with a book in my lap not knowing what had hit me."

"I-I understand," Deanne said, "Teban is l-like that. To look at he's, well, he's quite formidable, but he's the sweetest man…" For a moment she was smiling to herself, then she covered it and composed herself. "He's very kind," she explained, "a-and he takes good care of us." She dropped her gaze back to her meal and ate silently for a moment.

"S-so, are you traveling on your own?" she asked after a short while.

"Oh, no," Willow said, "Tara's part of an Amazon mission, they're going to Duncraig to, you know, negotiate, and do what diplomats do, and all that."

"The mission is traveling as far as Duncraig," Tara elaborated, "then heading back home. I-I'm staying with Willow." Willow turned to stare at Tara, her lips parted in joy, though no words emerged. She took hold of Tara's hand and held it tightly, absolutely not caring if Deanne guessed everything there was to know about the two of them. The older woman just smiled faintly to herself and turned her attention to her daughter, giving Willow and Tara a moment of courteous privacy.

When all four of them resumed their meal Deanne was more at ease, and talked more readily with Willow about places they had both known in Entsteig. They ended up discussing the Gotunberg markets, Willow reminiscing about browsing through them, Deanne promising that, from what she had seen in passing, Duncraig had markets to rival even the capital of the northern realms. Tara meanwhile set her attention on Kristal. First the girl stared intently at her, and Tara returned her stare with comical wide eyes, which made her laugh. She stuck her tongue out, as did Tara, then Kristal winked, and again Tara copied her. Deanne and Willow both looked at them, mystified, as they broke out in giggles.

"She's such a joy," Deanne confessed quietly to Tara after dinner, as they both watched Willow and Kristal sitting on the opposite bed. Willow had shaded the room's main lamp just enough for the candle on the nightstand to cast a decent shadow, and was entertaining the girl by making shadow puppets. Kristal joined in, mastering the rabbit fairly quickly and moving on to the puppy, the kitten and, with limited success, the pony, while Willow delighted her by pretending to mistake them for ludicrous shapes – Kristal rolled on her back on the bed laughing after her attempt at a bird had Willow saying with authority: "Well that's obviously the Archangel Hadriel. Um, carrying a banana," to account for the bowed shape of the bird's feet.

"I-I'm sorry I was, um, cautious before," Deanne said to Tara, "I've never met an Amazon before. Or a sorceress," she added.

"It's okay," Tara said, "I mean, if I was suddenly sharing a room with a warrior I'd be nervous too. And I am a warrior. Well, not that I've ever really fought anything, but, you know…" Deanne looked at her curiously.

"You haven't?" she asked.

"I only just finished my training," Tara explained, "this is my first assignment. Normally a girl my age would join a warrior pride, but my instructor thought I'd be better off here. Um, she wasn't sure how well I'd handle being a soldier."

"Back home," Deanne said, then paused, "well, in Gotunberg – it used to be home – a boy training as a soldier would be in a patrol squad by the age of sixteen. And a girl would be betrothed, and married the day she turned eighteen as often as not. I was married on my eighteenth birthday. My son, Iain, has never been further than fifty miles from his home, and now he's married and has a baby son of his own…You know, it hasn't been easy traveling this far, and I miss my son very much, but I think if I had never seen all that I've seen…" she shrugged. "Well, I'm probably not telling you anything you don't know," she added with a smile.

"Oh, no, I understand," Tara said, "until now I'd never been away from home. It's only recently that my people could spare warriors to travel with expeditions like this, I-I'm actually very lucky. If I'd joined a pride I might never have left the islands, and seen all these places, Kingsport, and the castle…and, um, met Willow, of course. She's a…a wonderful friend" she finished shyly. Deanne gave her an understanding look.

"It's alright," she said quietly, "you two are…?" Tara hesitated, the nodded, and Deanne met her stare with a sympathetic gaze. "I know what it's like to have to hide it," she said, "at home…after my husband died, just after Kristal was born, I wouldn't have been allowed to remarry. My family are very…conservative. Teban was my husband's man-at-arms, he's very kind and gentle, and he loves Kristal dearly, but my family wouldn't have approved…I didn't want Kristal to have to live by rules like that, so we left. We went north at first, to the edge of the steppes where he came from, and then when we had saved enough we set out for Westmarch. They say that people are more accepting of each other's ways here. We're traveling as companions, but," a smile touched the corners of her lips, "when we get to Kingsport, we're hoping to be married. If we're allowed to there."

"You will," Tara assured her, "the Baron is very fair. He, um, he knew…about me and Willow, we stayed at the castle for several days, and he was…he let it be known, publicly, that he had no objection."

"Well," Deanne said with a little laugh, "perhaps Kingsport will be a good place to settle." She looked at Kristal, who was copying Willow's shadow puppet hand motions for 'Yeti scratching his bottom'. "She thinks of Teban as her father, you know, and he's quite devoted to her."

"Not only her?" Tara guessed. Deanne blushed, and shared Tara's smile.

"He's…very sweet," she said bashfully, "very…gentle." For a moment she looked like she was about to say more, but then she shot Tara a conspiratorial grin and fell silent. There was a knock on the door, and Deanne stood up.

"It's alright," she said, "it'll be Teban." Willow sat beside Tara, putting an arm around her waist, as Kristal took her mother's hand and went to the door. Deanne opened it to reveal a giant of a man, over six feet tall, whose leather pants and tunic could do little to conceal the huge muscles in his limbs and chest. He had a faint blue tattoo curling around one side of his face, and he glanced at Deanne and Kristal, his solemn face turning briefly to a smile, before staring at Willow and Tara, who were both wide-eyed at the sight of him.

"They're alright," Deanne said, turning to them. "Willow, Tara, this is Teban…my companion." Both got to their feet as the big man came into the room and stood carefully beside Deanne, inspecting them. He cautiously held out a hand, which Tara took, then Willow, and then he nodded to them and turned back to Deanne.

"I've left hot water for a bath," he said in a thickly-accented voice, "enough for two. And I'll be right down the hall." Deanne smiled, and he crouched down to smile at Kristal, who promptly threw her arms around his massive neck and hugged him.

"Sleep well, bear cub," he said with a grin, "I'll see you in the morning." Kristal kissed his cheek and let go of him, so he could stand back up to face Deanne.

"Sleep well," he said in a surprisingly gentle voice. Deanne stood up on tip-toes, giving her just enough height to kiss him quickly on the lips. Tara smiled as she saw Kristal roll her eyes theatrically.

"You too," Deanne said. Teban smiled at her, gave Willow and Tara a last stare, which was formidable but not unkind, and stepped back through the door, closing it behind him. Deanne smiled fondly at the closed door for a moment, then leant down to pick up Kristal.

"Don't worry," she said to Willow and Tara, "he's not really very talkative around people he doesn't know well. It's Kristal's bath time, I'll make sure there's enough hot water left for you both as well."

"Thanks," Tara said. Willow gave Deanne a smile, and Kristal a wink, as they vanished out the door, then she turned to Tara, wide-eyed and smiling.

"Did you see that guy?" she asked rhetorically. "He's not a bodyguard, he's a one-man army! And he and Deanne…?"

"Yes," Tara replied with a grin. "She said he's very gentle."

"Wow," Willow said. "Well, I guess I'm not the only one who's got a thing for big strong warriors."

"He certainly looked like a warrior," Tara said.

"Oh, he was," Willow assured her, "I recognized that marking on his face, I saw a few people with those in Gotunberg."

"She said his people came from the steppes, north of Entsteig," Tara told her.

"Un-huh," Willow agreed, "the northlands around Mount Arreat. He's a tribesman of Bul-Kathos – most people call them 'barbarians', and think they're just nomads, but Ember once told me they've got a huge city at the foot of the mountain." She looked thoughtfully at the door for a moment, then turned to Tara.

"You're really going to stay?" she asked suddenly. "When Tryptin and the other go home, I mean?"

"Of course," Tara said, enveloping Willow in a hug, "of course…I-I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner, I guess I hadn't really thought that far ahead, not properly, but of course I'll stay."

"Oh Tara," Willow managed to get out before her lips found Tara's. Tara was happy to let Willow take the lead, opening her mouth to her as they both moved to the bed and sat down without breaking the contact. Tara tightened her arms around Willow's waist, which seemed to ignite Willow's passion for her – Willow quickly straddled her thighs and leaned forward, following as Tara lay down, her lips and tongue working feverishly all the while.

"Oh gods Tara I love you," she breathed, barely moving her lips from Tara's as she spoke. "Oh gods…oh, we can't do this here," she groaned, "I'm about one second away from tearing off your clothes and just, gods, everything…kissing you all over…"

"Are you sure it's not you who's the big, strong warrior?" Tara teased.

"Well, maybe I could take a turn at it, once in a while," Willow allowed, making no move to vacate her position lying on top of Tara. "After all, you look like you're having so much fun when you're kissing me 'til I can't think."

"Oh I am," Tara promised. Willow made an appreciative little growl, then settled on top of Tara and relaxed.

"Will you be okay?" Willow asked. "Away from home, I mean? It could be a while, you know, there's a lot of places I have to visit. All through Westmarch, and then up into Khanduras, and eventually over the desert to Lut Gholein and back to Kehjistan…we'd be on the road a long time."

"It sounds perfect," Tara said, "I get to see half the world with the woman I love." She fixed Willow with an intent stare. "There's no home I'd miss more than you."

"It won't be a problem to stay away, though?" Willow asked. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm so happy I could burst, I just want to know if there's any problems, you know, so we can talk about it, figure it out…"

"I know," Tara said, "it'll be okay. I-I think Solari was hoping I'd find out where I'm meant to be while I was on this trip. I guess neither of us thought I was meant to go back and join a warrior pride…I think she'll be happy. And I'll be able to help out, as well, we're taught how to support ourselves if we have to travel, you know. A lot of lords and garrison commanders would pay for an Amazon to train their men for a week or two, I wouldn't be a burden on you-"

"Oh gods, you could never be anything but a blessing to me," Willow murmured. She glanced at the door. "We should get ready for our bath," she added. Tara nodded and smiled as Willow lingered in getting off of her, sliding her body slowly down Tara's instead of just getting up.

"Thinking of hot water," Willow said, "I think we might pass near Soltram at some point…those hot springs sound good. Perhaps we can find one all to ourselves."

"You feel like going for a swim?" Tara asked in a seductive murmur.

"Well, adults can have fun in the water too," Willow countered playfully, pulling a pair of thick nightshirts from the bag they had brought from the wagon.

Deanne and Kristal returned shortly, and Willow and Tara made their way to the small women's bathroom down the hall. Some rowdy sounds echoed up the stairs from the dining hall two floors below, but once Willow closed the door of the bathroom behind them it was as if they were in a little world of their own. Tara tipped the hot water warming over the fire into the empty tub, and smiled as Willow's hands stopped hers as she reached for the laces on her armor.

"My job," Willow said.

"Only if I get to return the favor," Tara replied. Willow removed her armor and boots, then her tunic and skirt, and finally knelt down to pull her underwear down her legs. She was breathing somewhat heavily through parted lips as she stood up.

"Willow?" Tara asked knowingly.

"I want to kneel back down," Willow whispered in her ear, "put my head between your legs, and lick you and kiss you and taste you all night long. I know we can't here, like this, but gods Tara I want to taste you so much…" With trembling hands Tara removed Willow's tunic and bra as she kicked off her boots, and slid her skirt and briefs down her legs in one motion.

"Come here," Tara whispered, stepping into the steaming bath. Willow joined her, dipping a toe in the water first to find it just cool enough to step into, and Tara took her hands and gently lowered her down until they were kneeling in front of each other.

"W-we can't take too long here," Tara said quietly. Willow nodded. Tara shifted forward, straddling Willow's left thigh, and slipping her left leg between Willow's. Both open their mouths in silent gasps as they settled their weight onto each other's legs, Willow pressing her needy sex against Tara's thigh, and Tara against Willow's.

"Wh-what now?" Willow asked in a whisper.

"We move," Tara breathed, "together." She held Willow's body tightly against hers, feeling Willow do the same, and began to move in a slow rhythm, rolling her hips. Willow matched her motion, both stimulating the other and feeling the heated results against their thighs.

"I know how much you want me," Tara whispered in Willow's ear, "I-I want you too, so much, all the time…think of it, Willow…one of those hot springs…it's night, the sky's full of stars looking down at us…just you and me, alone…I take off your clothes, you take off mine…we go into the water…you lie down at the edge of the pool, just your shoulders and head pillowed on the grass, the rest of you floating…I touch your legs, gently draw them apart…I kneel between your legs…lean down, kiss your thighs, getting closer and closer…the tender skin on your inner thighs…I touch you where no-one else ever has…you're so wet, Willow…"

Willow has closed her eyes, her body keeping up its slow dance with Tara as her mind pictured the scene Tara was painting for her. She could feel her juices on Tara's thigh, and Tara's sex wet and hot against hers. Tara held her tight, their breasts crushing together, their bodies sharing heat and motion, and she slowly increased their rhythm, whispering to her all the while.

"So wet…you want my mouth on your sex…I tease you…a tiny lick, here and there…teasing…before I kiss you…I open my lips on your sex…taste your arousal…drink it in…I work my tongue into you…deep inside you, Willow…you're moaning…moving…I want you to come, Willow…while I'm inside you…I want to taste you as you come…do you feel me, Willow? I need you…I'm licking deep in you sex…my lips pressed hard against you…my fingers are touching you, Willow, your sex, your clit…you're going to come…I'm going to taste you…your juices are going to flow into my mouth, and I'm going to drink you, your climax, Willow, you're going to be inside me, we're in each other, we're part of each other, you can't hold back, now, Willow, now, you're coming, so hot, so wet, you're coming…"

Willow trembled all over, her breath coming out in a shuddering sigh as she climaxed against Tara's thigh. At the same time she felt Tara press down against her, her skin soaked with the wetness of Tara's orgasm. Tara's voice was reduced to a breathy growl, but she continued to whisper, wrapped in the fantasy she had woven around Willow.

"Coming," she gasped, "yes…yes…my Willow…so sweet…oh goddess…" She took a deep breath and opened her eyes, staring at Willow.

"You liked?" she asked with a shy grin.

"Oh baby," Willow murmured, "gods, I swear you could make me come just with your voice…" Tara smiled widely, and kissed her softly, tenderly, taking her time with a leisurely exploration of Willow's unresisting mouth.

"I guess," she said at last, "seeing as we're in a bath, we should probably wash…" She and Willow both slowly bathed each other, lavishing attention on each other's bodies as they went, and not lifting their sated centers off each other's thighs until they absolutely had to.

"I love you so much," Willow said quietly as Tara's hands dragged along her legs.

"I know, baby," Tara whispered, "I love you too."

"We're definitely going to visit Soltram," Willow added.

"Absolutely," Tara replied. They finished washing each other in silence, emptied the cooling water into the drain, and pulled on the nightshirts, returning to the bedroom with their clothes neatly folded. A single candle was all that lit the room, just enough for them to make out Deanne, with Kristal cradled lovingly in her arms. She was singing a soft lullaby to the girl, and looked up with slight apprehension as Willow and Tara pulled back the covers of their bed and slid underneath next to each other.

"It helps her sleep," she explained in a whisper.

"It's okay," Tara replied quietly. Deanne resumed her singing, in some language neither Willow nor Tara recognized, and Willow smiled as she felt Tara curl up behind her, her arm as always draped across her waist. She murmured happily to herself as she heard Tara's voice join the melody, softly matching Deanne's as the song repeated itself. Willow laid her hand over Tara's, stroking it affectionately, then her eyes closed and she drifted off to sleep in Tara's arms. Deanne's singing quietened and finally stopped, and Tara looked across to see Kristal sleeping soundly in her protective embrace. Tara and Deanne exchanged smiles that acknowledged the bond of common experience they were sharing, one a mother loving her daughter, the other a woman loving her soulmate, both more thankful to the gods than words could possibly express.

Chapter 22

Tara woke to the sound of someone moving around the room. She blinked in the sunlight lancing at a sharp angle across the floor from the room's small window, and saw Deanne already dressed, carrying a tray. She set it down on the nightstand, then glanced at Tara and smiled to see her awake.

"Your diplomat brought breakfast up from the kitchen," she explained in a whisper, careful not to wake Willow. "He asked me to tell you they're readying the caravan, but you still have time to eat before they leave."

"Thank you," Tara said quietly, glancing at the bread rolls on the tray. "Do you want some?"

"No, thank you," Deanne replied, "Teban brought our breakfast up earlier. We're setting out today as well, for Maresburg. I'll be in the bathroom with Kristal for a few minutes, take your time." She held out a hand for her daughter and they left the room, Deanne closing the door quietly behind her.

"Mmmwassat?" Willow mumbled.

"Breakfast, honey," Tara said.

"Don' be silly, lobster can't fly," Willow argued sleepily, her voice slurred. She yawned and stretched, humming contentedly as Tara held her, then blinked open her eyes.

"Did you say breakfast?" she asked. "Where's Deanne? And Kristal?"

"Bathroom," Tara explained.

"Ah," Willow said, reaching for a bread roll. "You think maybe we'll have time to visit the bathroom ourselves?" she purred.

"Only enough time to actually visit the bathroom," Tara said, "we're setting out soon. Thank you," she added as Willow handed her a roll.

"I had a dream about you," Willow said between mouthfuls. "Usually it's weird stuff with demons and talking books and all that…though it's gotten a lot better since I started sleeping all snuggled up to you," she added with a grin. "This time it was lovely, though…nothing scary or strange, just you."

"And flying lobsters?" Tara asked.

"Was I talking in my sleep?" Willow asked, frowning. "No, that was a different dream. And it wasn't flying, it was just trying to. And it kept falling off the roof and bouncing around the treetops, which it thought was flying, 'cause I guess lobsters don't know much about flying, being lobsters and all." She glared playfully at Tara, who was giggling to herself.

"Anyway," she said resolutely, "this other dream, you and I were in the wagon, except it was a huge wagon…and, um, well, I was naked, and you were looking at me, you know how you look at me," she smiled, "and…well, things progressed from there…I don't know if I should really go into that much detail if we have to get up so soon."

"You're right," Tara murmured, "you can tell me once we're in the wagon." Willow looked confused for a second, then comprehension dawned.

"Oh," she said, "right…well, then, I'll do that. Quietly, though, 'cause I don't think the driver really has to know that much about my fantasies." Tara smiled and reached beneath the blankets to pat Willow's bottom, at which Willow squeaked and batted Tara lightly on the nose with her bread roll.

Doing their best not to get delayed by banter and fooling around, they finished breakfast and laid out fresh clothes, visiting the bathroom separately to forestall temptation once Deanne and Kristal returned. Tara was sorry not to be spending more time with them, and she could see Willow's reluctance to say goodbye to the little girl, but she was warmed when Deanne quietly thanked her for her company, and gently hugged her. Teban appeared in the doorway at the same moment, and Tara thought she saw him nod his approval. The big man moved to stand in front of Tara, and held out his hand again, briefly clasping Tara's forearm in a warrior's manner.

"Deanne speaks well of your company," he said in his thick northlands accent. "Co'te'." Tara looked surprised, but was even more so when Teban turned to Willow, bowed, and said "Honored, Zann Esu."

"He spoke High Amazonian," Willow said after he, Deanne and Kristal had left to see to their horses.

"He did," Tara agreed, "and he recognized you."

"Maybe Deanne told him," Willow guessed, "or he recognized my belt…co'te' means he respects you?"

"Respect or honor," Tara said, gathering the previous day's clothed and packing them away. "It's used as a greeting between warriors…he must have met an Amazon at some point."

"Is that possible?" Willow wondered.

"That far north?" Tara pondered. "I don't know, I'd never heard of any of our people traveling that far, but it's possible, I suppose. Or maybe he's traveled before." She shrugged. "We should get a move on," she added, "we don't want to hold the caravan up."

Together they made short work of restoring the room to the condition they found it in, and made their way downstairs. Outside the town was significantly emptier than it had been the night before, and the people still around were mostly women and children. Tara guessed that most of the men were out working in the fields, not having the luxury of sleeping in. Tryptin motioned for her from where he was talking with the caravan master, and they spoke briefly before she and Willow packed their overnight bags back into their wagon. She was oddly glad to be back in the wagon with Willow – even though they had spent only a little time there, it felt like a home of sorts, and its comfort was a constant reminder of Willow's ingenuity. They left the roof rolled up as the caravan set out, but then, with gray clouds looming on the horizon, let it down and fastened it securely to the wagon's sides.

Tara finished securing her side of the wagon, and while pulling off her boots took a moment to watch Willow as she finished with the ties she was attaching. She was kneeling among the blankets, leaning over the stacked baggage and concentrating on tying the last leather strip securely, and remained oblivious to Tara as she stealthily crept up behind her. She jumped slightly as Tara touched her, then looked over her shoulder and smiled contentedly as Tara's fingers trailed along her leg, sneaking beneath her skirt to caress her thigh.

"I was thinking," Tara purred, "last night, after you went to sleep…about what you said yesterday, in the courtyard." Willow turned around, looking curious.

"About…?" she prompted.

"About making love," Tara said.

"Oh," Willow said, "yeah…um?"

"Do you think what we've been doing is making love?" Tara asked softly. Willow considered the question briefly, loosely holding Tara around her waist.

"Yes," she replied, "yes, I do. I mean, there's things we haven't done yet, like take each other completely to climax, I-I'd like to do that…you know, um, without you touching yourself, just me… a-and I'd love to do the same for you, you know? Just…lie back and be completely yours." Tara nodded gently. "So, you know, that's something we haven't completely done yet, a-and it'll be very special, the first time we do…" She grinned and looked into Tara's eyes.

"But when I think about what we've done," she went on, "like last night, when we held each other, came together…or when I, you know," she poked her tongue out cheekily and momentarily dipped her eyes down Tara's body. "Or even, you remember when I told you about how I, um, masturbated while I was thinking of you, a-and you rubbed yourself against me, and I held you while you came?"

"As if I could forget," Tara breathed.

"Well," Willow said, smiling at Tara, "I was thinking, isn't all of that making love too? A-and I think it is. I feel that it is."

"D-does that bother you?" Tara asked hesitantly.

"No!" Willow said at once. "No, gods no, I…I can't think of any way this last fortnight could've been better. Well, not counting the psychotic mage and his evil-minded cousin, and demon summoning and stuff, but…you and me, no. It's been wonderful. I just wanted you to know, so… um, I know I've been a bit, well, forward with the touching and the kissing in intimate places," she blushed, "a-and I don't want you to think that any of that was just…playing around, to me."

"Oh Willow, I never thought that," Tara insisted. "That morning, when you held me," her voice dropped to a whisper, "when I climaxed, I knew you loved me, um, physically, completely."

"I did," Willow said, "I do. A-and I don't want you to think that I think we made a mistake telling ourselves we'd wait, even though we, well, we haven't really. I think it was good, you know. 'Cause I really did feel kind of overwhelmed at first, and I still do, except in a good way, like I can't believe how beautiful you are, how, how sensual, how erotic…" She teased Tara's earlobe with her tongue. "How wet you make me," she whispered.

"Um," she said, pulling back a little to meet Tara's aroused gaze, "what I meant is, just… knowing you felt the same way, that I wasn't the only one who was shy and nervous, a-and worried about making sure we did everything right…I wasn't so worried, you know? Like, it's okay to be nervous, 'cause we're nervous together. Mmm, everything is perfect when we're together," she added, her hands stroking gently up and down Tara's back, fingernails scraping against the soft leather covering her torso.

"Yes," Tara whispered, "it is…"

"So," Willow went on, "I guess I kind of told myself that so long as we were both nervous, and holding off the big moment for a little while, it was okay to…explore, you know? I didn't feel so overwhelmed about finding out how I could please you, a-and how you could please me…and I guess it just felt like the most natural thing in the world to do. And it was, it's- every time you touch me, in every way, it feels so right I could cry. Cry in a good way, obviously," she smiled.

"Me too," Tara murmured. "So…what do you want to do?"

"I want," Willow hesitated. "You know what, I want us to keep going the way we are. Just exploring, a-and making love, and…it's everything I want, Tara, you're everything I want. And still, when we get our own room, it'll still be so special to me, it'll be our first time to, to make love all night, to not have to worry about being overheard, or whether we'll be interrupted, or any of that… it'll be a dream coming true. Just, right now, I wanted to have you know, a-and kind of have myself know as well, that we've made love, a-and I'm not worried about it, or pretending it didn't count, or anything…I want you to know that I'm your lover, Tara, in every way, and there's nothing I'm afraid of, or hesitant about, or that I don't think we're ready for…um, did that make any sense?"

"Yes," Tara said, kissing Willow softly on the lips, "completely…and you're not the only one who was nervous…but I feel so…so free…" Tara stared at Willow, her eyes filling with tears, and then she hugged her tightly, whispering in her ear: "My lover…oh, Willow, my lover…"

"A-are you okay?" Willow asked when Tara finally let her go.

"Oh yes," Tara assured her with a brilliant smile.

"A-and you don't think maybe we shouldn't have…?"

"Nothing of the sort," Tara said firmly. "Let it be decreed that we have made love…and it was wonderful, every time." She grinned at Willow.

"I second that decree," Willow said. "Um, you don't think that…well, the way I've been looking forward to our so-called first night…I haven't sort of undermined that, have I?"

"Not at all," Tara promised. "It'll be the first time we have a whole, uninterrupted, night as lovers, all to ourselves…an open fire warming the room…a huge bed…silky sheets beneath us… no-one to overhear when you scream my name…" She fixed Willow with a lusty smile.

"Yeah," Willow said, as if slightly dazed.

"It'll be what our lovemaking is preparing us for," Tara promised, "the pinnacle of our pleasure…nothing in the whole world besides you, and me, and all the ways we can please each other…all night…"

"All night?" Willow asked weakly, holding Tara as if she wasn't sure she could kneel upright on her own.

"All night," Tara repeated. "The last thing we'll see, before you and I fall asleep, completely exhausted, sated in every way, and with each other's tastes on our tongues, will be the sun coming through the window."

"Wow," Willow breathed. "Are you trying to turn me on this much?"

"Absolutely," Tara whispered.

"Gods it's working," Willow said. "What if we get there and there isn't a fireplace?"

"Then we'll make our own fire," Tara assured her. Willow sat back on her heels and fanned herself with her hand.

"I think we're doing that already," she said. She suddenly got an amused expression, and then burst out laughing.

"What?" Tara asked, cuddling her and smiling.

"I just thought of yesterday morning," Willow explained between giggles, "um, kissing and licking you, down there, and thinking we were waiting until the right moment to make love." Tara laughed too.

"Heh," she chuckled, "yeah, the strange notions that young, naïve lovers have."

"Just as well we're experienced and wise in the ways of the world," Willow countered, sending Tara off into another fit of laughter.

"Oh, my Willow," she said at last, "my lover…"

"That I am," Willow said, "by official decree, I seem to recall."

"Do you think the town criers will be out informing everyone?" Tara asked playfully.

"Tease," Willow said, swatting Tara lightly on the bottom. "Just you wait…once that bedroom door closes behind us, you're not going to know your own name."

"Lucky for me," Tara pointed out, "you'll be saying it…over, and over, and-"

"Ambitious, are you?" Willow asked slyly. "Well, don't get too confident, I've got plans for you, my luscious Amazon."

"I'm sure you do," Tara purred. "In fact, you were going to tell me all about your dream…?"

"Oh, yes," Willow said gleefully. She turned around to lie back in Tara's arms, snuggling up against Tara as she snuck an arm around Willow's waist. "We were here, except the blankets went on for ever, and there was no-one to overhear us…I was naked, a-and all wet, like I'd just had a bath, and my skin felt all warm and tingly…and then you were there, all shining bronze and perfect, smooth skin, like you were at the dance…my warrior. And you kissed me, like you do when you get wild, all passion a-and, and totally sexual. You were holding me tightly, I could feel your gloves on my back, pressing into me, and I felt like I was coming, just from being kissed…I know it was just a dream, but it felt so…like I couldn't stop, as long as you kissed me I just kept on coming, and I was soooo wet," she wriggled in Tara's embrace, and spied Tara's other hand stroking her own thigh beside her.

"And then," she went on, "you stopped kissing me, except I didn't stop, I needed to feel you again my lips…a-and the way you looked at me, it was…you know how you look at me, as if your stare is sliding into me and tickling my sex from the inside…"

"I do that?" Tara asked softly, blinking in surprise.

"You certainly do," Willow confirmed. "So I knelt down and, and that little half-skirt that goes with your armor, I pulled that up, a-and you weren't wearing anything underneath it…and just thinking about us like that, I mean, you in all your armor, all proud and strong and Amazon…and me kneeling in front of you, completely naked, leaning forward, reaching out with my tongue to lick your sex…gods I was so wet!" She paused to enjoy the recollection, and became aware of Tara's hand moving behind her, creeping down below Tara's own waist.

"Tara?" she asked.

"Yes?" Tara said in a husky voice.

"A-are you…do you want…?"

"I want you to turn around," Tara murmured, "and keep telling me what happened…I did promise you could watch me, didn't I?" Willow's eyes were wide as could be as she slowly got up and turned. Tara met her stare easily, and then Willow's gaze slid down her body to take in the sight of her lover touching herself. With the hand that had been around Willow's waist, Tara was slowly unlacing her leathers, but her other hand was already tugging her skirt up around her waist, her fingers stroking over the material of her underwear.

"You were saying," Tara prompted in a seductive, breathless voice, "you were wet?"

"Uh-huh," Willow said automatically. With an effort she tore her eyes away from Tara's hand and met her gaze.

"No," Tara said gently, "watch. That's right," she added as Willow's eyes returned to her fingers, which were steadily making their way underneath the waistband of her briefs.

"Um," Willow said, her mouth suddenly dry, "I-I reached out with my tongue, a-and I looked up at you as I did it, and you were watching me…you said 'Taste', so I leaned forward the last little bit," Willow gulped as Tara pulled off her leathers and her tunic in one smooth motion, tossing them aside and returning her free hand to herself, alternating between her nipples, rolling and pinching them to hardened peaks straining from her breasts.

"I…tasted you," Willow managed to whisper, "first…just outside…I-I licked your thighs, y-your wetness was…all over them…a-and I knew I had to get every bit of it…"

"My diligent Willow," Tara murmured. "Would you do something for me, Willow?"

"Oh gods, anything," Willow replied at once.

"I think," Tara breathed, "these panties are getting in my way…would you get rid of them for me?" Tara watched with a pleased, aroused smile as Willow reached out trembling hands and hooked her fingers through the waistband of the skirt hugging Tara's hips. As she leaned over Tara's lap the scent of her arousal was so intense Willow found it intoxicating, and she breathed deeply, letting it out in a shuddering sigh. When she finally leaned back, dragging Tara's skirt and underwear down her legs, Tara licked her lips at the sight of her, cheeks flushed with desire, lips parted, her chest moving visibly with her rapid breathing, quite obviously painfully excited. Tara lifted her right leg and gently rested her calf on Willow's shoulder, her fingers stroking her inner thigh.

"I was wet here?" she asked. Willow nodded. "And here?" Tara asked, moving her fingers up to the top of her thigh, just next to the glistening lips of her sex. Again Willow nodded, trembling as she saw that Tara's wetness wasn't imagined.

"My, my," Tara teased, "you made me very wet indeed, didn't you? Where else was I wet, my lover?"

"A-all…all over," Willow whispered. "Y-your, your clit…" Tara's fingers skipped lightly across her sex, her fingertips coming to rest on either side of her clit. Slowly she circled it, teasing herself by almost touching it, then pulling back. Finally she ran one finger over it, making her legs tremble.

"Ohhhhh," Tara moaned quietly, "I'm sure…you enjoyed…licking me there…" Willow nodded, entranced. "Where else?" Tara breathed.

"Y-y-your, y-your l-l…y-your lips," Willow said, finding her voice suddenly difficult to control. Tara moved her fingers slightly, slipping two between her lips just below her clit and moving downwards, using them to open herself, letting Willow see the copious moisture covering the silky tenderness hidden between them.

"Like…this?" Tara gasped. Willow nodded, unable to tear her eyes away from the erotic display Tara was providing for her. Tara held her lips open with her fore and ring finger, and teased her opening with her index finger.

"And where…" she said breathily, "was I…most…wet…?" Willow took a deep breath as Tara's fingertip began to slip just a fraction inwards, and tried to muster command of her voice one last time.

"I-i-in-inside," she managed. With maddening slowness, Tara slipped the tip of her finger into her center, and let out a long, heartfelt sigh as the rest of her index finger followed it. When at last she was as deep as she could go, she drew her finger out, glistening with wetness, until just the tip remained inside her. Her thumb moved close to her clit, but didn't yet touch it.

"Again?" she whispered. Willow was completely unable to speak, and simply nodded. Tara slid her finger back into herself, rolling her hips slightly as she did so and letting out a contented little sigh. She began leisurely stroking her finger in and out of her sex, building momentum with tortuous patience, her thumb beginning to rub up close to her clit.

"Do you…like…watching me…Willow?" Tara breathed. Willow nodded. "Do you?" Tara purred.

"Yes," Willow answered at once, as if Tara had given her her voice back.

"You…can see…my finger…covered in…my juices," Tara went on between sighs, "can't you…yes…and…you can…smell my…wetness…in the air…I want you…naked…Willow… please…" With her eyes never leaving Tara, Willow began to struggle out of her clothes as fast as she could, kicking her boots off, pulling her top quickly over her head and off, undoing her belt and dragging down her skirt and briefs at the same time.

"Mmm," Tara purred appreciatively, "now…it's just like…your dream…you're naked…in front of…your Amazon…come closer…" She planted her feet on either side of Willow and spread her legs, giving her room to kneel between her thighs.

"I'm going…to come," Tara panted, her chest rising and falling dramatically as she gulped down one lungful of air after another. "I…want to…for you…I want you…to watch me…to be… excited…by watching…me…tell me…Willow…"

"Oh gods baby," Willow babbled, barely able to contain herself to a whisper, "you're making me so hot, you're so sexy, oh gods you're unbelievable, there's nothing in the world that can turn me on like you, like watching you naked, playing with your gorgeous breasts, reaching deep inside your sex, you're the most erotic sight in the whole world baby, just looking at you makes me so wet…" As Willow spoke Tara stared into her eyes, the pace of her hands increasing rapidly. Her finger became a blur, sliding completely out of her before plunging back in, and her thumb rubbed back and forth furiously, dipping down to gather the juices gushing from her and spreading them over her clit.

"Kiss me," she said quickly, her voice strained. Willow practically leapt on her, her tongue diving into Tara's mouth the instant her lips were open, her body moving in rhythm with Tara's thrusts beneath her. Tara's thighs clamped around her waist, holding her tight, as she drove her finger into her sex one last time, burying it deep as she came. Her helpless moaning was fortunately muffled by Willow's mouth, which became more gentle and carefree as Tara's orgasm washed over her, and slowly began to fade, leaving her weak in Willow's arms.

"Oh goddess," Tara moaned as Willow kissed her repeatedly, "oh you wonderful goddess…"

"Me?" Willow murmured with a grin. "What did I do?"

"The way you looked at me," Tara whispered, her breathing steadying slowly, "the…oh goddess, what I saw in your eyes…i-it felt like your gaze was reaching into me, like you were touching me all over…oh Willow, you made me feel so, so…" she searched for the right word, "…so sexual."

"You were, baby," Willow assured her, "you are…you always are."

"Always?" Tara asked, with a slight disbelief in her voice.

"Absolutely always," Willow promised, "don't even try to deny it…behind that shy Amazon exterior you're the most sensual, loving, erotic…oh, gods, hot! woman in all the world. A-and just knowing you want me, you love me, knowing I'm the one who gets to touch you…gods Tara, you just have to look at me and I get wet!" Tara smiled broadly and held Willow to her, kissing her neck and working her way up to lick around her ear.

"So," she breathed, warming the moist skin her lips had left in their wake, "am I right in thinking that watching me come for you has made you very wet?" She kissed Willow's ear and wiggled her tongue a little, making her shudder in delight.

"Oh gods," Willow moaned quietly, "like you wouldn't believe…"

"That's just as well," Tara went on, using that special growling murmur of hers that made Willow's knees weak, "because all this activity has made me very…very…thirsty. Are you wet enough to quench my thirst, my Willow?"

"I-if you keep sucking my earlobe like that," Willow said in a trembling voice, "I'm gonna get so wet I'll flood the wagon."

"Mmm," Tara purred, "we can't have that, can we…but my lips just seem to want to play with you…perhaps I should move them somewhere else? Would you like that, Willow?"

"Please," Willow moaned. Tara moved to Willow's lips and kissed her with such passion that it left her breathless and writhing.

"Say it," Tara whispered. Willow gulped down a lungful of air and fixed her with an unbreakable gaze.

"Kiss my sex," she said, her voice coming out as an aroused growl, "just like that. I want your beautiful tongue inside me right now." A smile spread across Tara's face like the rising sun, and she blinked once, slowly, watching Willow seductively from beneath her lashes.

"Lie down baby," she murmured, "spread your legs for me." Willow enthusiastically complied, leaning back among the soft blankets, parting her thighs, raising her legs and resting her heels on top of the stacked crates and luggage sacks on either side of her. She lifted her head and looked down, between her legs, at where Tara was leaning over her with a hungry gleam in her eyes.

"See anything you like?" she said with a glowing smile. Tara nodded mutely, and watched as Willow reached down and gently spread the lips of her sex, revealing herself completely and unashamedly.

"Yours," she whispered. Tara lowered herself between Willow's smooth thighs and inhaled her scent, closing her eyes amid fantasies of what she was about to do. Slowly, with infinite care, she let her head drop and pressed her lips to Willow's sex, as Willow's fingers retreated out of her way. For a moment she was unable to move, the experience of the softness of Willow against her mouth too much for her. Then, daring, she leaned back just a fraction and extended her tongue, touching it to the bottom of Willow's lips and dragging it the whole length of her sex, tasting her wetness, finishing with a flourish over her clit.

"Oooooh," Willow moaned quietly, her head dropping back. Tara ran her tongue through Willow's sex again, and again, faster this time, feeling giddy as Willow's thighs trembled on either side of her head and her hips rose up off the blankets. She cheekily rubbed Willow's clit with her nose, eliciting a desperate moan from her, before closing her lips around it and sucking gently, flicking her tongue from side to side.

"Oh!" Willow exclaimed, barely keeping her voice down. "Oh Tara! My goddess, oh!" Her hands wound into Tara's hair and held her firmly against her sex, inviting more intense contact which Tara was only too pleased to provide. She pressed her lips firmly around Willow's clit, applying just enough pressure to make her squirm in delight, then opened her mouth wide, as if trying to swallow her sex whole. Willow tossed her head from side to side as the heat covering her suddenly matched the heat within her, then bit a mouthful of blanket and moaned as Tara entered her.

Tara found, with her head at its current angle, the tip of her nose was at just the right level to continue stimulating Willow's clit, and devoted a fraction of her consciousness to keeping the little bundle of nerves humming with joy. The rest of her thoughts she gave over to tasting Willow, deeply and completely, reaching with her tongue as far into Willow as she could, retreating to play with her lips, then diving in again to swirl around the entrance to her sex. She felt Willow's hands holding her and eagerly allowed herself to be pressed into her, smiling as she felt Willow's juices cover her lips and chin.

She could feel Willow was perilously close, both from the erratic clutching of her fingers in her hair, and from the desperate way she thrust her hips up to meet every foray Tara made into her sex. She allowed herself one last, long drinking of Willow's arousal from its source, then as she felt Willow start to convulse she lifted her mouth to her clit, closed around it, and using her lips to shield the sensitive nub from her teeth, bit down gently but firmly, her tongue flickering from side to side like the wings of a hummingbird.

"Mmmmmnngggh!" Willow groaned, fortunately muffled by her blanket. Tara wrapped her arms beneath Willow's waist and held her sex against her mouth, refusing to allow her climactic kiss to be interrupted even when the tension collapsed out of Willow's legs, leaving her hips suspended above the blankets by the strength in Tara's arms alone. Her legs fell off their perches and lay along the length of Tara's back, her thighs pressing in on either side of her head, her toes curling in delight against the backs of Tara's thighs.

Finally Willow lay still, her fingers relaxing in Tara's hair, and Tara gently let her weight back down onto the blankets. Only then did she give up her kiss, moving very slowly to avoid causing any discomfort to Willow's over-stimulated clit as she parted her lips and leant back. With perfectly delicate care she licked the wetness from Willow's sex, her tongue as light and soft as a cloud of vapor. Willow seemed to be in a world of her own, murmuring incoherently at Tara's ministrations. She opened her eyes when Tara had at last sated her thirst and moved up to lie beside her.

"Ptui," she said weakly, spitting out her blanket and grinning weakly.

"A-are you okay?" Tara asked gently. She wasn't truly worried, but seeing Willow so overcome by her exertions, she had to ask.

"Okay?" Willow echoed weakly. "Try blissfully wonderful…indescribably joyous…utterly, utterly pleased…come here and kiss me, my Tara…" Tara brushed her lips against Willow's, and found she wasn't nearly as exhausted as she appeared as she immediately deepened the kiss, her tongue reaching into Tara's mouth to caress hers.

"Mmm," Willow murmured, "that's a distinctive taste…someone's been at the Willow-juice, have they?"

"They have indeed," Tara admitted with a grin, "didn't you notice?"

"I thought that might be what you were up to," Willow replied, "but then I figured it had to be some secret Amazon magic where you swallowed my soul and surrounded it with complete, mind-blowing pleasure…something like that."

"Something like that," Tara agreed, feeling a little blush despite herself.

"Well then," Willow said, lifting a leg to run her calf along the back of Tara's thigh, "just make sure you keep my soul nice and warm, won't you?"

"I promise," Tara said, with complete sincerity.

Chapter 23

It was with considerable reluctance that Tara finally finished getting dressed, and turned to see Willow fixing her belt in place, and giving her a long-suffering expression. She ventured a sympathetic smile, and got in return a sneaky grin that showed Willow was far from being as perturbed as she was pretending.

"You're sure you don't want to lunch here?" Willow tried again, reaching out to run a finger along Tara's neck, ending up stroking her cheek. "We've got plenty of food…fresh fruit juice…and you'll love desert," she added, licking her lips.

"I told you, sweetie," Tara said reasonably, indulging Willow's playful sulk, "Tryptin said we should meet him once the caravan stopped. And we've stopped, so no matter how," she paused and caught Willow's finger between her lips, sucking for a moment before letting go, "…appetizing that sounds, we really should go."

"Hrmph," Willow vocalized her adorably indignant frown, while Tara gave her finger one last kiss and moved to rear of the wagon to get out. "He's lucky he's so nice, otherwise he'd have a very disgruntled sorceress on his hands."

"Come on," Tara said, offering Willow her hand as she let herself down to the ground. Willow graciously let herself be helped down, not protesting that Tara held her quite a bit more firmly than was strictly necessary for the tiny drop from the tailboard.

"By the way," Tara murmured, leading the way up the column to Tryptin's wagon, "do you think I might be able to sample that desert you mentioned anyway?"

"Well, it could be arranged," Willow admitted with a smile, "if you're good. Luckily for you, the desert really, really wants to be sampled…"

"I'll be better than good," Tara promised with a knowing smile.

"I don't doubt it," Willow whispered, before raising her voice to greet Tryptin, who was waiting outside his wagon with four other men, two of them already seated on wooden stools around a plain camp table.

"Miss Willow, good day. Tara," he said, nodding to both of them. They quickly greeted the others: Shan the caravan captain, Jasken the gemstone dealer, the Kingsport lieutenant commanding the guards, who introduced himself as Kert, and the leader of the Duncraig ambassadors who Tara had met when he and his people arrives at the Baron's castle, a middle-aged, portly man with bristling white whiskers, called Gerrid. As they shook hands Melcan hurried around, bringing enough stools for everyone to sit, and fetching bread from the supply wagon.

"I'm sorry to interrupt everyone's day," Shan said once they were all seated, and Gerrid has wasted no time attacking his bread roll, "but the next stage of our journey will not be as easy as we had hoped, and it seems prudent that we all be aware of what lies ahead. And, as we're in this together, we should all have our say."

"Quite right," Gerrid observed, holding up a napkin to keep from spraying crumbs over his tunic. Shan smiled blandly at him, then nodded to Kert.

"Sirs, ladies," he began, "we're four days from the next settlement that's anything to speak of, Torrestad. We knew there would be a possibility of some bandits operating along the road, and we're prepared for that - frankly, it's been twenty years or more since a caravan this size had to worry about attack from brigands. Nevertheless I spent some time last night sounding out the travelers staying at the inn, as well as the locals, and some of what I learned was disturbing. You'd have noticed the locals weren't keen on spending the night outside the town walls - well, there's been stories going around of livestock being killed or stolen, and even some reports of people going missing, solitary travelers and the like. There's some unpleasant rumors going around. I can't say how reliable these rumors are, but I judge that some solid men were believing them, so there may be something to them."

"What do the rumors say?" Jasken asked sharply.

"They say Carvers are about," Kert said grimly. "I met no-one who'd seen one, but that was the general consensus, and if you ask me it may not be just tall tales. There used to be some big groups living along the northern borders, back in my father's day - there were expeditions to wipe them out, but it's not unlikely some survived, and have been breeding."

Tara noticed Willow nodding grimly, and ventured a question in the lull that followed Kert's report: "Um, wh-what are Carvers?"

"They're demons," Willow said flatly, "small creatures, no real magical power, but they came from demon blood."

"You've encountered them, miss?" Kert asked.

"No," Willow explained, "but my order has detailed accounts of all the breeds of demons that survived the end of the Sin War. I've studied them."

"Well miss, you probably know more than me," Kert conceded, "all I know is the stories my father told." He looked at her expectantly, and she blinked, suddenly finding herself the center of attention. Tara gave her a little smile as she glanced her way, and she relaxed somewhat, leaning forward as she spoke.

"They're a hybrid," she explained, "demons that were brought here during the Sin War by the Prime Evils, and bred with living creatures. They still look like the demons they came from, but they can breed, age and die, just like natural animals. The Prime Evils started creating hybrids when the old Horadrim mages perfected their banishing spells - a hybrid demon is born of this world, and can't be banished any more than a person could be. Luckily they're not as powerful as real demons, but they're still a real danger, especially in large numbers. Carvers aren't the strongest or smartest of the hybrids that survived the end of the war, but they've got a strong urge to group together, and they can breed fast. A lot of them were killed during the Reckoning, but not all. They were still having trouble wiping out the last bands of them in Entsteig when I was there."

"What can my men expect, I we encounter them?" Kert asked.

"Oh. Um, they're about four feet tall at most, strong for their size, but a trailed soldier won't be overpowered by one of them. But they attack in groups usually, one of them on its own would never attack unless it was sure its victim was defenseless. They mostly come out at night. They use weapons, but not very well. Some of the very old ones can do simple cantrips, very rudimentary fire magic. Oh, and there's some evidence to suggest that they can animate their dead for a short period, I'm not sure how."

"They look demonic?" Shan asked.

"Very," Willow said, "their skin varies, red and brown usually, but some of the cave-dwellers paint themselves blue or black. They've got horns, claws, prominent fangs…you can't miss them," she added with a wry grin.

"Then we'll have no trouble spotting them if they're about," Kert said. "How smart are they?"

"They're vicious," Willow said, "cunning, in a rudimentary way, but not very bright…they know enough to band together to attack people, but not much more than that. They tend to attack anything that they think is vulnerable, and run at the first sign of real trouble."

"That tallies with what I've heard," Kert commented. "From the sound of things in Sorenstad there's not enough of these creatures to pose a serious threat, but it's possible they may be damn fool enough to attack anyway. If that happens, we can't afford to be careless. Alright, I need to know now who among you can fight, if need be."

"I-I've never handled a sword in my life," Jasken said, looking pale.

"My men are trained to defend themselves," Tryptin said, "but they're not soldiers."

"I am," Tara said before anyone else could speak. "I can fight. I-if we have to."

"And me," Willow added. "Not hand to hand, of course, but I can cast strong cold magic."

"My ambassadors are not untrained," Gerrid offered, "but we're not exactly suited to battle, if you take my meaning."

"Very well," Kert said. "I've got three squads of guards, so I don't expect any of you or your people will have to fight, but it's best to know, just in case. Sir," he said, turning to Shan, "in light of the lady's advice, I recommend we scout for defensible locations every night, and if that means we have to stop while it's still light, better that than be out in the open while it's dark."

"Sound advice," Shan said, "so be it. We won't halt for lunch beyond today, either. I'll make sure we set a pace the horses can keep up, and we'll be ready to move fast if need be. You'll handle the disposition of your guards?"

"Yes sir," Kert said, "we'll divide into three watches, and the night watch will be at full strength. During the day I'll have riders ahead and on our flanks, scouting out to several miles. With luck, if there's any trouble we'll see it before it sees us. I'll ask all of you not to ride out from the caravan without seeing me first. Under the circumstances, sightseeing is a luxury we may have to forego. Miss," he added, to Willow, "I'd like a word with you, if you please." After a few pleasantries the meeting ended, and Willow and Tara both went to stand with Kert while the others dispersed back to their wagons.

"This business of the creatures using magic, miss," he said to Willow, "what can they do, exactly? What kind of threat are they?"

"Well, this is second-hand," Willow cautioned, "but the library my order keeps is among the best. The most common reports have the very old ones casting fire missiles, like weak versions of the spells a fire sorceress would use - you know, fireballs? Um, I suppose they're about the same threat as an archer, more or less. It's unlikely they'd get through solid leather armor, but the burns could be bad, and if they hit the face…" she shrugged and frowned. "The ones who can cast will probably carry banners or totems of some kind, and they'll probably have some kind of decoration, like warpaint, or symbols on necklaces, that sort of thing. They shouldn't be more difficult to kill than the younger ones, maybe a bit weaker even. We're taught, if we encounter them, to target any of them that stand out, to stop them casting, and to help scatter the others."

"I'll let my men know," Kert said, "if we run into any of these spell-casters, we'll be ready for that. I've got some crossbowmen who won't miss their shots. What about animating their dead?"

"Oh, that's not really confirmed," Willow said, "there's records of people seeing Carvers die, and then come back to life, and they say the spell-casters have some ability to bring them back to life. It's possible, they're not entirely natural creatures after all, so maybe it's not difficult for the old ones to use a sort of primitive necromancy. The, um, the life force animating them isn't really natural to begin with."

"They're like undead?" Kert asked.

"If that's what it is, then possibly," Willow said.

"We've got some experience dealing with undead," Kert said grimly. "Would you say they'd be able to rise if their head was cut off?"

"Um, probably not," Willow guessed, blanching slightly.

"I'll instruct my men," Kert said, "we'll see to it. I'm grateful for your help, miss." He nodded politely to Tara, then turned and hurried off towards the large wagons where the off-duty guards were housed. Willow took Tara's hand as they walked back to their wagon.

"Well, nothing like lesser demons to brighten up the day," Willow said with a wry grin.

"We'll be okay," Tara said softly as they climbed back into their temporary home, "there's lots of guards, and the lieutenant was just being thorough."

"Yeah," Willow allowed, "I guess so."

"I'll protect you," Tara added, kneeling behind Willow. "I-if need be…I won't let them hurt you." Willow turned and gazed at her, tenderly holding both her hands.

"Thank you," she whispered. She blinked back a tear and kissed Tara, slowly and gently, expressing her gratitude for the sense of safety she found in Tara's arms.

"I won't let them hurt you either," Willow promised. "Anything that even looks at you funny is going to get a faceful of ice shards." She and Tara stayed where they were for a moment, gaining strength from each other in a difficult moment. Eventually their determined stares turned to grins, and the tension that had built up during the meeting faded.

"Well then," Willow said eventually, "does my beautiful Amazon feel like more lunch, or would she like to sample that desert I mentioned?"

"I think," Tara replied, making a show of considering her options, "she'd like…the desert." Willow smiled wider and leaned up against Tara.

"In that case, close your eyes," she whispered. Tara did so, and felt Willow lean away from her for a moment before returning to press against her side. There was a rustling noise which Tara guessed was a package being unwrapped, and then she felt something smooth and slightly cool against her lips. She opened her mouth and Willow slid the small something inside. Tara bit down and smiled.

"Cherry," she said.

"That's right," Willow murmured, "but that was just an introduction, to get you started." She shifted position again, and Tara couldn't quite figure out what she was doing. A moment later she felt Willow touch another cherry to her lips, and she reached for it.

"Slowly, slowly," Willow admonished her, darting out of reach of her lips. Tara patiently waited, and slowly opened her mouth as Willow touched her again, this time content to run her tongue over the little fruit as Willow slipped it between her lips.

"Mmmm," she moaned quietly, "I taste Willow."

"There's no fooling you," Willow said. "Would you like another?" Tara nodded. "Open your eyes," Willow said. Tara did so to see her holding a cherry up by its stalk, dangling it in front of her. As she watched Willow lowered the cherry, trailing it down her cleavage as far as her top would allow, then reaching down lower. Tara noticed her skirt was lying to one side, leaving her with an unobstructed view as Willow gently pressed the cherry against the lips of her sex, rolling it around to cover it with her wetness. She shuddered slightly, and Tara gulped. When she was satisfied with her efforts she held the cherry up again, now glistening with her juices, carefully pulled it off its stalk, and offered it to Tara.

"Eat up," she whispered. Tara leaned forward, her lips closing around Willow's fingers. She kept them captured in her mouth as she ran her tongue over the cherry, and grazed her fingertips with her teeth when she bit down on it.

"I hope that tastes as good as it feels," Willow murmured, reaching down to the handful of cherries in their crumpled wrapping paper beside her. Tara's hand stopped her.

"Would you like to find out?" she whispered. Willow smiled and nodded eagerly, folding her hands in her lap and waiting patiently as Tara took the time to unlace the side of her skirt, rather than just slide it down her legs. She grinned a mischievous grin when Tara finished, revealing herself to be naked underneath.

"I didn't think you were wearing anything under that," she observed. Tara glanced at her, mingling shyness and playfulness in her expression.

"I'm not the only one," she countered, glancing down at the reddish curls just visible above Willow's hands in her lap. Tara leaned close to her and whispered in her ear: "Tell me, were you hoping we'd get back here quickly, or did you plan on taking me behind the supply wagon when no-one was looking?"

"Oh gods," Willow whispered, "don't give me ideas." Tara kissed her quickly, just long enough for her tongue to dart out and touch Willow's, before sitting back on her heels with her thighs parted, and taking a cherry from Willow's stash.

"First," she said, "just to get you started…" She held up the cherry for Willow, and smiled as she leaned forward and bit it, pulling it off its stalk.

"Nice," Willow grinned, "but somehow…I think it needs a little extra flavor."

"Well," Tara said softly, taking another one, "let me see what I can do about that." She dragged the cherry along her thigh, smiling at the way Willow's eyes followed every move. When she reached her sex she teased her clit for a moment, purring in the back of her throat, before sliding the cherry a little lower. With her other hand she parted her lips, running the smooth little cherry up and down the length of her sex, covering it liberally in her juices.

"Mmm-mmm," she murmured, "I think that's done the trick." With one last stroke, pressing the fruit firmly against herself, she plucked it off its stem and offered it to Willow. Willow leaned forward, reaching out to flick the tip of her tongue over the cherry and Tara's fingers, before closing her lips around both and sucking heartily.

"Perfect," she whispered as she leaned back, releasing Tara's empty fingers. She quickly grabbed another cherry from the pile and reached between Tara's legs. "My turn," she said. Tara leaned back, opening her thighs wider and presenting herself to Willow, who took far longer than was necessary bathing the cherry and her fingers in Tara's warm juices.

"You're insatiable," she grinned, "here I am, innocently preparing a cherry for you to eat, and you're getting all hot and wet about it."

"Mmm-hmm," Tara agreed, "now why don't you bring those innocent fingers of yours up here?" With a smile Willow complied, watching as the cherry vanished between Tara's lips with a flourish of her tongue.

"So which is better?" she asked, reaching for another, "Willow-juice or Tara-juice?"

"Hmm," Tara considered, "well, I have to admit, there's a definite attraction to your method of gathering Tara-juice." She smiled as Willow rolled the cherry against her sex. "But," she gasped, "Willow-juice comes straight from the body of a goddess…so there's really no contest."

"Ooh, someone's sweet-talking me," Willow said with a grin. "Won't your other gods get jealous?" She slipped the cherry into Tara's mouth.

"They've got their own lovers," Tara said, "you're all mine." Willow was already reaching for another.

"That I am," she agreed, touching the cherry to her sex before offering it to Tara. She reached back for another one.

"Hmm, last one," she mused.

"Why don't you have this one?" Tara offered.

"I think I will," Willow agreed, "but only if I get to prepare it." She pulled the cherry from its stalk and held it between her fingertips, nudging it between the lips of Tara's sex. Grinning at Tara, she pressed it in a little more, so that it stayed in place when she let go of it.

"Oops," she said unashamedly, "slippery little thing. Guess I'll have to go down and get it, won't I?" She gently lay Tara down, kissing her all the while, then slowly made her way down her body, pausing to lick her cleavage, and lifting up the bottom of her tunic to kiss her stomach.

"Mmm," Tara moaned quietly, "my goddess…"

"All yours, baby," Willow whispered. "And you're my goddess, too. Time for me to worship you." Tara whimpered as she felt Willow's lips close around her clit, starting a patient rhythm of licking and sucking that quickly had her writhing. Willow began to make forays down the length of her sex, kissing and nibbling gently on her lips. Finally she snuck her tongue between them and scooped out the errant cherry. She held it between her teeth as she made her way back up Tara's body, brushing her cheek against her stomach and nuzzling her cleavage on her way.

"Care for a bite?" she said, lisping slightly to keep from squashing the cherry between her teeth. Tara nodded, her eyes betraying a little o how desperately she wanted to feel Willow between her legs again. Smiling, Willow lowered her lips to Tara's and released the cherry into her mouth, continuing to kiss her as Tara chewed and swallowed the fruit.

"We're all out of cherries," Willow murmured, grinning seductively, "but I was thinking, perhaps I might just taste a little more of that luscious flavoring? What do you think?"

"Please, Willow," Tara moaned quietly, "oh goddess, please…"

"Your wish is my pleasure," Willow whispered with a smile. Again she took her time making her way down Tara's body, even halting and retracing her path up for a short while, pushing Tara's tunic out of the way and reaching underneath her to undo her bra. With Tara's breasts revealed to her she patiently nibbled and licked each nipple to excruciating hardness, all the while aware of how Tara's hips were slowly grinding against her waist further down. She pulled her own top over her head, leaving her clad only in her bra and her boots, and arched her back, feeling Tara's warmth against her skin.

"My Tara is very, very hot," she murmured, kissing her nipples between the words, "perhaps I should attend to her right away…or perhaps I should keep teasing her…what do you think?"

"Oh goddess Willow," Tara breathed, "anything…"

"Anything?" Willow asked. "Even if I decide to keep teasing?"

"Oh yes," Tara whispered, "goddess, you make me feel so wonderful…" Willow grinned and engulfed Tara's right nipple in her mouth, sucking it to full attention before gently but firmly taking it between her teeth. She bit down and tugged on it, not too hard, but enough to make Tara gasp and shudder beneath her.

"Oh yes," Tara said in a whispered moan, "oh yes, my Willow, just like that…oh goddess, I think I'm going to come…" Willow gave her nipple one last bite and tug, a little harder, then released her and moved her head to the other side of Tara's chest. At the same time she slid her hand down to Tara's sex and gently slipped a finger between her folds, teasing her entrance. She looked up at Tara, who was gazing down at her, eyes half-closed in pleasure, her breath coming in gasps between her moist lips.

"Yes?" she asked playfully.

"Do it," Tara growled, clenching her teeth. Willow gently sucked her nipple for a moment, giving her time to anticipate what was to come, and rocking her finger back and forth with just the tip inside Tara. Her other hand covered Tara's neglected right breast, thumb and forefinger converging on her nipple, the rest of her fingers pressing into Tara's soft flesh. Then, at the same moment, she thrust deep inside her sex, and bit down on her nipple, her face pressing into the softness of her breast as she held the hard nub between her teeth and licked it.

"Mmmm!" Tara moaned, clamping her mouth shut to keep from crying out. Her hands flew to Willow, one on the back of her head, holding Willow to her breast, the other covering Willow's hand between her legs, pushing her finger as deep as it could go and refusing to release her. Willow eased off on Tara's nipple just a fraction, giving more attention to licking that biting, and moaned quietly in the back of her throat as she felt Tara's sex clench around her, her body spasming and her juices flowing freely.

As Tara's body slowly stopped shuddering Willow let go of her nipple completely, and tenderly licked and kissed it, as if soothing it after her strenuous treatment. She slowly withdrew her finger from Tara, causing little tremors to run through her hips and thighs as she turned it this way and that. Tara regained the strength in her arms and gently urged Willow up, enveloping her in a warm hug as they lay side by side.

"Oh my love," Tara whispered, "that was so…mmm, intense…"

"I…" Willow said, a little nervously despite her smile, "that didn't…hurt? Did it?"

"No, baby," Tara soothed her, "no, it was wonderful."

"You're sure?" Willow asked, as Tara hugged her closer, running her hands up and down her back.

"It felt good," Tara said confidently. "It wasn't just a tiny nibble, but it felt sooo gooood…" she finished by kissing Willow, gently biting her bottom lip for emphasis. Willow giggled slightly and licked Tara's lips.

"Good," she replied, "that's good…'cause you only had to say so, if you wanted me to stop-"

"I promise," Tara said, "if I ever want you not to do anything, I'll tell you. You don't have to worry."

"My perfect Tara," Willow murmured, snuggling up against her and pulling a blanket over them both.

"Y-you didn't…" Tara whispered, "Um, do you want me to…?"

"It's alright," Willow assured her, "you know, you can love me any way you want, any time you want, but I don't want you to ever feel as though you have to, as if I'm not happy unless I've come as well…I kind of feel like I did just come, in a way…I was so close to you, and you were holding me, and when the release went through your body, it felt like it went through mine as well…I know we'll make love again, very soon, so right now I just want to lie here and, oh gods, I feel so wonderful…"

"Any way I want?" Tara purred in her ear. "Any time I want?"

"Yep, I'll just lie here," Willow repeated, hugging Tara and giving her a playful squeeze around her waist, "just lying here, getting soaking wet…"

"So tell me," Tara said, "if you could make love anywhere… absolutely anywhere in the world…where would it be?"

"Are you going to take this as a challenge?" Willow asked, grinning and kissing Tara's neck.

"Maybe," Tara admitted.

"Okay then," Willow said slowly, deep in thought, "how about…on a boat. Right out on the tip of the bow…lying on my back, on the bowsprit in front of the figurehead, with you leaning over me, kissing me as you enter me…and then I could let my head fall back, and see the whole ocean, wide open in front of me, just like I'll be wide open in front of you," she giggled, "and as you make me come, I'll feel like I'm flying."

"I thought you didn't like boats?" Tara asked.

"Well, not when they're all lurching around and crashing through waves, no," Willow admitted, "so making love in the channel between the Twin Seas is out, or the only thing coming will be my lunch, up. But in calmer waters, boats are fine. They're like horses, so long as they don't do anything dramatic, we get along just fine."

"What's a bowsprit?" wondered Tara.

"It's the pole that sticks out the front of the boat," Willow said, "isn't it? They tie ropes from the top of the mast to it, to stop the mast falling over, I guess…actually I'm not sure. Everything on boats has got its own weird name. If I had my way, it'd just be called the sticking-out-in-front bit, nice and simple."

"With ropes tied to the big sticking-up-with-sails-on-bit?" Tara asked.

"Exactly. See? It's all so much easier than all this 'splicing the mainbrace' and 'running close-hauled' stuff. Just point the pointy end of the boat where you want to go, put up the big thing with the sails, and off you go. What about you?"

"What about me?" Tara asked, confused.

"Where in the whole world would you like to make love?"

"Oh…" Tara thought about it. "Well…I know. At home, in the temple of Athulua in the city, at midday the sun comes in at just the right angle, and it warms the grand altar. I'll sit right on the edge, and lean back, and you, my beautiful Willow, will kneel down between my legs and love me, with the sun warming our bodies, and the whole temple will echo to my moaning as you kiss me, and lick me, and slide your lovely tongue deep into me to taste me…" She shuddered lightly and hugged Willow tight, caressing her back.

"Well," Willow said, "that's certainly…that's not disrespectful of your gods, is it?"

"No," Tara said, "just very, very bold, seeing as there's always at least fifty or so people in the temple at midday, not counting the priests. That's unless it's a feast day, there'd be more like two hundred…all watching you feast…and the priests impatiently waiting for us to vacate their altar so they can get on with the ceremony. But so far as Athulua's concerned, making love in a temple is considered a form of worship."

"Really?"

"Oh yes," Tara said. "All our temples have private rooms, for couples to use if they want to worship in that particular way. It's not necessary, or anything, it's just…well, it's demonstrating the pleasure in your life to whichever god or goddess you're praying to. It's a way of saying 'You're my god, and I'm blissfully happy, so thanks'. Something like that. No-one's ever, um, made use of the grand altar like that," she admitted, "not in the middle of the day…there's always rumors floating around that some couple snuck in there at night and did a little worshipping without being discovered."

"Wow," Willow said, "and to think, the Zakarum church says sex for pleasure is shameful…heh, makes me wish I was an Amazon."

"You don't have to be Amazon to enjoy making love," Tara said softly.

"No I don't," Willow agreed, "I just have to be with you."

"Me' te'ela," Tara whispered.

"I know, baby," Willow replied, "I love you too." She smiled and inhaled the scent of Tara's hair, snuggling in the hollow of her neck and shoulder.

"You know," she said after a moment, "I'm starting to think traveling isn't so bad after all."

"If you're planning on spending the whole trip making love and talking erotic talk, then I agree," Tara said.

During the afternoon Tara took a brief ride up and down the length of the column of wagons a few times, seeing rain clouds drawing close and knowing she wouldn't get another chance for some time. When she returned her horse and jogged back to her and Willow's wagon, she found Willow deeply absorbed in one of her books. After finding a waterproof cape and hood for the wagon's driver she checked that the roof was tied down tightly, then nestled into Willow's lap, listening contentedly as the rain began to fall softly on the roof, and as Willow read to her, all about the various theories regarding the planets and their movements through the sky.

As night fell and the caravan halted in a suitable location, in a grove of trees just off the road with good visibility on all sides, the two shared dinner and stories about the heavens, Tara telling Willow the Amazon names for the constellations and the legends of which planets were signs of which gods and goddesses, Willow adding a few stories from her own fund of myths and legends, amassed from the library of her order, and the folktales of Kurast and Entsteig. After they had spent a long time talking, slowly cuddling closer against each other, Willow finally reached up, turned out the lamp, and lay down next to Tara, smiling at the feel of their bodies fitting naturally together, as if this was the way they had always been meant to be.

And then, just as she was wondering whether to tell one last story, or engage her creative talents in a more physical way, Tara kissed her, slowly and gently, and her hands moved down Willow's body, touching her in all her sensitive places, making her moan and writhe in contented pleasure. No words were needed; Willow lay back, closed her eyes and marveled at how Tara could know her so well, understand her body so completely, that every touch was perfection. For a while Tara was pleased just to kiss Willow, unhurried and unhindered in her exploration of her mouth, while her hands stroked and massaged her breasts and her sex. Then, with one last, soft kiss and a look that promised volumes, she made her way down Willow's body, kissing her breasts, spending a long time caressing and licking her firm stomach, finally reaching her goal. She closed her lips around Willow's clit as if the fate of the world depended on her care, and the tender, patient way she stroked and parted Willow's lips were rewarded when, with no effort at all, she slid a finger inside her, and to Willow it felt so fulfilling that she almost cried.

Tara continued to pleasure her with boundless love and patience, never hurrying or straining, but merely ushering Willow towards the climax that had begun to stir the moment they had kissed. Willow surrendered herself completely to Tara's care, yielding all control of her body and her reactions, freeing herself of everything but to experience the love in Tara's every touch. As if holding her hand on an enchanted journey, Tara guided Willow higher, moving back up her body, her thumb gently taking over from her lips on Willow's clit as her finger found the special spot inside her that connected them like nothing else. Bringing Willow to the edge of her climax, Tara leaned down and kissed her, so gently and perfectly.

"This is how you make me feel," Tara whispered, "always." As she spoke she applied the tiniest, slightest increment of pressure inside Willow, just enough to tip her over the edge. Willow felt as if her body was liquefying, swaying like gentle waves on the shore, rushing forward, slowing, retreating for a moment before surging again. Tara's mouth on hers stifled her moan as she came, her climax peaceful, blissful and inevitable. The whole experience was so soothing that afterwards, with her body still tingling, Willow barely had time to nestle against Tara and feel her gentle kiss on her forehead before she was drifting away from consciousness, her awareness closing to everything but the warm presence of her lover beside her, and sleep claimed her.

Chapter 24

"Rise and shine, sweetie."

Tara's voice soothed Willow through her waking moment, letting her go from blissful slumber straight to luxuriating in the warmth of Tara's presence without any hesitation or confusion.

"Ooh, that's nice," she murmured, covering Tara's hand on her breast with her own and pressing it to herself. "Can't I stay here and shine instead?"

"It's certainly tempting," Tara agreed, "but we don't have long until the caravan gets moving. There's a little creek just by the trees, we should have time for a quick bath, if we hurry."

"Well then," Willow conceded, "in the interests of not turning into a horrible unwashed mess by the time we reach Duncraig…up and at 'em, I suppose." She yawned as she sat up. "Just a quick bath?" she asked.

"We shouldn't go out of sight of the caravan," Tara said, "so I don't think we'll have the chance to, um, enjoy our bath the way we should."

"Drat," Willow murmured, wrapping a thick woolen robe around herself and searching for her boots. She found them, pulled them on, then turned to watch Tara, her robe already on, pulling a pair of towels from their baggage.

"Hey," she said, kneeling beside Tara, hugging her and resting her head on Tara's shoulder. "You know, the way you made love to me last night, that was…I don't know if I can tell you how that was. I felt like you were the grace of the gods themselves, a-and…I don't have the words for it."

"I love you," Tara said softly, "those are the only words that matter."

"Yeah," Willow agreed, "I love you."

"My beautiful Willow," Tara whispered, gently closing her arms around Willow's waist.

"Mmm-hmm," Willow said, "so completely yours…"

They stayed together for a moment, enjoying the warmth of each other's embrace, until Willow tilted her head to one side and looked up at Tara from the corner of her eye.

"This isn't exactly helping us get up quickly, is it?" she asked.

"Not really," Tara said. "Somehow, though, I don't seem to mind."

"Me neither," Willow smiled. "How about if we agree to go wash, and then scurry back here as fast as our legs will carry us for more snuggles?"

"A well-formulated plan," Tara said with comedic formality.

"So one or the other of us should, sort of, let go at some point."

"Uh-huh."

"That meaning, you or me."

"Yep."

"Not as easy as it sounds," Willow admitted after a moment.

"Let me try something," Tara suggested. She lifted her hands to gently cup Willow's face, drew their lips together, and kissed her as if her life depended on it. Willow went completely limp, her hands dropping from Tara's waist to rest loosely around her hips, her legs relaxing underneath her, her body help upright only by Tara, who clearly had no intention of letting her go before she had tasted every inch of her mouth.

"See?" Tara breathed when she finally released Willow's lips. "We let go."

"Yeah," Willow said, her hands flying up to grab Tara and draw her into an answering kiss, finishing with a very long moment of holding her lip between her teeth and sucking seductively.

"Actually," Tara admitted, "maybe that wasn't such a helpful idea." Willow nodded, just before Tara kissed her again, making her moan into Tara's mouth as her tongue worked its magic.

"You might be right," Willow agreed, "we should go…wash, and all…"

"As quickly as possible," Tara said.

"You bet. Let's go."

There was a guard and one of the Amazons washing clothes in the creek, which was otherwise just far enough away from the caravan to offer a semblance of privacy. Both men discretely kept their backs turned as Willow and Tara washed themselves, which didn't keep Willow from sneaking glances at Tara, and vice versa. The water was naturally quite cold, and Willow noticed this having the expected effect on Tara as they both untied their robes and used washcloths to clean themselves as thoroughly as possible, under the circumstances. Tara noticed Willow watching her and caught her eye, to which Willow shrugged, as if to say 'Well, what did you expect?' Tara grinned seductively and pinched her nipples, which were already pointing rigidly from her breasts. Willow inclined her head back towards the caravan, and Tara nodded.

They both finished washing as quickly as possible, pausing only to let the guard and the Amazon know they were finished and dressed again, and thank them for their courtesy. The moment they were both safely back in their wagon Willow pounced on Tara, kissing her thoroughly while dragging her robe down off her shoulders. Tara likewise pulled off Willow's robe as they both fell to the blankets padding the floor, wearing only their boots, giggling and kissing.

"Lift up a little," Willow urged Tara, who was lying on top of her. When she complied, Willow made her way down beneath her, reaching up to lick Tara's nipples and hold her breasts, which were hanging down towards her in a most inviting fashion.

"I noticed these getting cold," Willow explained. "Maybe I could warm them up a little?"

"More than a little," Tara purred, as Willow took her nipple into her mouth and sucked greedily on it. Tara moaned and arched her back, lowering her body so that the breast Willow had latched on to pressed against her, while Willow massaged the other thoroughly.

"Trying to suffocate me?" Willow grinned, before burying her face back in Tara's chest, one hand around her back pulling her down further.

"Can you think…" Tara gasped, "of a better…way to go?"

"Mmmno," Willow said, her voice quite muffled. She put both hands on Tara's waist and, with a small amount of difficulty in the limited space, rolled them both over so Tara was lying on her back, smiling like she had just lowered herself into a hot bath, and Willow was astride her, alternately licking her nipples and playfully nipping at them.

"Warming up…nicely," Tara grinned, her breathing a little erratic. Willow grinned mischievously, concentrated a little, and breathed an icy breath across Tara's left nipple.

"Ooh!" Tara exclaimed, shivering and biting her lip. A wide smile formed on her lips, and she watched as Willow touched the tip of her tongue to her nipple.

"Ah!" she gasped. "It's like ice! How're you doing that?"

"Am I a sorceress or not?" Willow asked with a cheeky grin. She gave Tara's nipple one more lick, noting that the cold had made it quite exceptionally hard, then dispelled the tiny amount of cold magic she had called on and closed her now warm lips on the rigid little nub. Tara cooed in satisfaction, moving gently beneath Willow. Willow in turn opened her mouth wide and put her tongue to a lengthy examination of the shape and taste of Tara's nipple and the surrounding breast. She deliberately began to tickle Tara, flicking the tip of her tongue lightly over the sensitive skin on the bottom and sides of her breast, making her giggle uncontrollably.

"That was quite a thing," Tara gasped, as Willow finally relented and settled on top of her, nestling against her shoulder. "Is that something all sorceresses learn to do?"

"Oh, no," Willow said, "just a little thing I thought up. You like?"

"Mmm-hmm," Tara murmured, "remind me, next time there's some ice to hand, I'll show you how exciting that is."

"I certainly will," Willow promised. "Apart from seducing your favorite sorceress yet again, did you have anything planned for today?"

"Actually," Tara said, "I was thinking, after breakfast I'll start teaching you archery. If you're still interested?"

"You bet I am!" Willow said eagerly. "Do you mean archery for real, or the kind you taught me a little of back at the castle?"

"Oh, both," Tara said airily, "I think they complement each other nicely." Willow made a purring sound in the back of her throat, and gave her hips a sexy little wiggle against Tara's thighs.

"You luscious Amazon you," she scolded fondly, "you're trying to lure me back into that cleavage of yours, aren't you?"

"I might be," Tara said thoughtfully, "is it working?"

"Tease," Willow retorted, "just you wait, I know how to bide my time. And when you least expect it, I'll give you more than you bargained for."

"Hmm, you promise?" asked Tara with a sly grin.

"Yes ma'am," Willow said. "But now, breakfast? I think I need to keep my strength up." Tara laughed, and sat up with Willow, folding a warm blanket over her shoulders as she started to unwrap some of the day's food.

"My Tara," Willow smiled, stroking her cheek fondly, "you take such good care of me."

"That's what I aim for, my love," Tara said, "in every way."

"Proving once again," Willow said with a grin, "how good your aim is." Tara settled back, drawing a blanket around her shoulders and leaning against the crates stacked behind her, giving Willow the opportunity to lean back against her, sitting between her legs and pulling her blanket over her front, keeping them both cozy. Tara waited until Willow was properly settled before closing her thighs on either side of Willow's waist and crossing her ankles in Willow's lap.

"Gotcha," she murmured. Willow reached behind herself to grab Tara's waist, holding her.

"Gotcha too," she countered.

"I guess that leaves it up to me to keep us fed," Tara observed, plucking a bread roll Willow had unwrapped and offering it to her with a slice of cheese.

"Trail rations don't taste so bad coming from Tara-fingers," Willow said idly between bites. She let go of Tara with one hand and fetched a roll for her.

"Willow-fingers too," Tara replied after she had had a bite. Joking and laughing, they finished breakfast quickly. Tara dressed and excused herself to jog up to the Amazons' cargo wagon, where she had a bow she said would suit Willow, leaving Willow to clear up the remains of their meal, and ponder recent events.

The thought of being with Tara, of traveling with her, and most importantly that Tara wanted to stay with her even after her people returned to their island homelands, was still strange and wonderful to Willow. She doubted it would ever seem less than wonderful, but for now, it was still a new idea, still fresh and largely undiscovered in her thoughts. Willow looked around the wagon they shared, noting Tara's discarded robe, the blanket she had had around her shoulders, her heavier armor on top of the pile of crates, her bow and spear neatly secured to one side. As Willow dressed, as she fastened her belt around her hips, the small weight of their journal in its pouch at her side reminded her of Tara's drawings, safely within. 'She's part of my life now,' Willow thought, smiling to herself at the same time as the enormity of the idea made her want to tremble. 'My life,' she thought, examining the idea, 'our life…our life together. Lovers…companions…together.' Willow grinned at herself, and leaned over to rest her head on the makeshift pillows, where she could still detect the lingering scent of Tara's hair. She thought back over all the times she and Tara had made love, when Tara had moaned or sighed with pleasure. 'I can give her that,' Willow thought dreamily, 'I can do that…she loves me…' Fighting off a sudden, irrational urge to shout it at the top of her voice, Willow set herself instead to changing the blankets lining the floor of the wagon, rolling up the old ones to be washed whenever the opportunity arose, and spreading out new ones from the baggage stacked to either side.

She was just finishing when Tara returned, carrying a bundle and a strangely-shaped bow, which was for most of its length straight, but curved backwards at each end to form a 'D' shape, except there was no string in it. Willow noted this and just as quickly ignored it, cupping Tara's surprised face in her hands and kissing her with all the passion as she could conjure. Tara's hands went around Willow's waist, but that was the only move she made other than to part her lips and let Willow explore where she would, welcoming Willow's tongue into her mouth and patiently, lovingly lavishing attention on it for as long as Willow continued the kiss. When at last Willow drew back, Tara closed her eyes and licked her lips in a show of utter contentment.

"What was that for?" she asked with a smile.

"I need a reason?" Willow countered. Tara laughed and hugged her.

"Not at all," she replied, "I'm yours to kiss - and anything else you might think of - whenever you want."

"I was just thinking," Willow explained regardless, "you know, about us…you staying with me after Duncraig…I mean, we have a, a life together! I- That's the most amazing thing to me, I think about it and I just, I can't think of anything better."

"I know," Tara said, "I feel…this is my place in the world. With you."

"Oh Tara," Willow murmured into her shoulder as she held her tightly, "my angelic Tara."

"I am," Tara agreed, "I'm yours, my life is part of yours, just like yours is part of mine. It's our life, Willow, now and…and always…?" Willow heard the slight pause in her voice, and didn't think twice before answering it.

"Yes," she said without hesitation, "always." Tara gulped, then hugged Willow fiercely, kissing her cheek.

"Tara?" Willow asked tentatively, feeling warm tears on her skin from Tara's eyes.

"Happy tears," Tara said, her voice choked up but joyous. She drew back, grinning sheepishly, drew in a deep breath, and kissed Willow again, just lightly, on her lips.

"Ready to learn?" she asked, laying a hand on the strangely shaped bow lying beside her.

"Absolutely," Willow replied, "learning-girl at your disposal."

"Okay then, learning-girl," Tara said, holding up the bow, "I'm assuming you want the full story, not just the quick version?"

"Ooh, you know me," Willow grinned, "learn all that's learnable."

"Well then," Tara sat back, as Willow crossed her legs and gave her undivided attention, "this is a light short-bow used for training. It was one of a set of three light bows made by Eponin's father Terranon. Eponin used one of them when she was a girl, and passed it on to her eldest daughter. My mother used the second one, and kept using it even when she completed her training. Eponin gave me the third when I was ten, and I used it until I was fifteen. It's an Amazon custom that when a weapon is given, its history is given with it. I-I want this to be yours, now." Tara held out the bow to Willow, who took it gingerly.

"Really?" she whispered. "I…thank you…it's beautiful…"

"Terranon was a very gifted craftsman," Tara said, "an artist. The bow I use now is another of his. The weapons we use, bows and spears, aren't just tools, they're part of our way of life. There have always been threats to the Isles, so there have always been warriors to protect them. This is a, a symbol of the value we place on life, on safety…our families, our people, and our future. This bow represents life, and the knowledge that sometimes we have to fight to protect what is dearest to us. Do you accept it as such?"

"I do," Willow said sincerely.

"Then it's yours," Tara smiled. "I-I don't mean all that to make you feel like you have to join a warrior pride or anything, and if you never use it for anything but practice and fun, it's not an affront to the symbolism or, you know, something like that. It's just…it's important, that's all. I-I'm not a soldier like the women in the prides are, but I've been trained - I'm a warrior. It's part of me, and I guess I'm pleased that you want to share it like this." She smiled at Willow, then looked at the bow in her hands.

"First thing," she said, her voice steady and sure, "feel the weight. Feel the texture of it. See the way it's curved."

"It looks different to your one," Willow observed.

"That's because it's not strung," Tara explained.

"The shape, I mean."

"I know," Tara smiled, "when you string a bow it has a lot of tension in it, it changes the shape. I had my bow unstrung before the contest in Maresburg, remember?"

"I remember you were in your leathers and looking like the sexiest archer in history," Willow grinned, "I didn't really see what your bow was doing." Tara laughed, then got up and moved around behind Willow, positioning the bow in her hands.

"I'll show you how to string it," she said. "First thing, you hold it this way around - when it's unstrung, the tips point forward. Okay, hold it like this," she showed Willow's hands where to go, "now, it's not easy to bend, but this is a light bow so it's not too difficult…there's a trick to it when you're sitting, you hook this end over the top of your leg… like that…then rest your other thigh over the middle and bend the other end back…that's it. Now you've got one hand free to set the string." She put a string in Willow's free hand, and showed her how the looped tip went over one end of the bow.

"Now you do it," she said. Willow ran her fingers along the string, making sure it was straight, then slipped the little loop over the other end of the bow. She gingerly let the tension go out of her legs, and grinned to see the bow holding its shape, an elegant arc with the tips curving back.

"I did it!" she said to herself gleefully.

"You sure did," Tara said warmly. "Now, feel the shape of it again. You're not looking for anything specific, just get used to how it feels now that it's ready. The core of the bow is ashwood, it's not actually from an ash tree - ashwood is wood that's been treated by the artisans of Hefaetrus. They have a type of magic that can temper wood like a blacksmith tempers steel, it burns but it becomes stronger. It's one of the secrets of the Amazons, and part of the reason our bows are better than mainland ones. On the leading edge here, this is sinew from a type of creature we just call Beasts, they're monsters that live in the dense jungles on Philios and Lycander. We don't use materials from natural animals, unless they can be gathered without harming them, but there are some creatures that are unnatural, probably remnants of the old demon armies, like those Carver things. On the trailing edge, here, there's two strips of bone, one on either side of the handle."

"Beasts again?" Willow asked.

"Not usually," Tara said, "Beasts have good sinews, but their bones are too brittle. Mostly the craftsmen use bones from horses, when they die, but some of our old, very heavy bows are supposed to use bones from demons like goat-men or maulers. Luckily there aren't many of them still around - there used to be pockets of them on the islands, but we've slowly wiped them out or driven them away. My bow uses wraith bone, which is pretty rare. This one is from a creature called a cave leaper, they're vicious little things that can jump ten meters in a go, their bones will bend a lot before they break. The back of the bow here-"

"The front is called the back?" Willow asked, as Tara pointed at the leading edge of the shaft.

"Yep," Tara confirmed, "the edge towards the target is called the back, and the edge towards the archer is called the belly."

"Belly," Willow repeated, "okay."

"It's not just sailors that have to give everything odd names," Tara said with a smile. "The back is coated with bark from a great oak, like the ones that hold up Tran Athulua. That's just for a bit of extra protection. Every month or so you should treat the bow with bramble oil, or something like it - I've got plenty of that, and we should be able to buy more, in Duncraig at least."

"Bramble oil?" Willow asked, curious.

"Creatures again," Tara said, "natural ones, though. In the deepest forests there are a handful of creatures called bramble hulks-"

"Hulks?" Willow interrupted. "There used to be hulks around Kurast, all through the jungle. Only, they're all gone now…during the Reckoning they were corrupted, and after it was over the survivors just vanished. I read that they used to be sort of guardians of the jungles, they'd protect them from evil."

"There aren't many," Tara explained, "just a few, all of them on Lycander. They keep to themselves, and don't often allow themselves to be seen by people. They never come anywhere near our cities, but sometimes one of them meets a priest out in the jungle. I suppose they weren't affected like the ones in Kurast were by the Reckoning, they're very peaceful and gentle. According to those who've seen them, they think we're tolerable, by the standards of humans." Tara grinned. "I think they really prefer trees to us, but they probably figure they're stuck with us. Bramble oil is a liquid their bodies are covered with, they're said to be made of wood, and the oil keeps them flexible so they can move. They naturally secrete a whole lot of it, so they have enough that they can spare supplies of oil for us to use and trade. I guess they see it as a fair trade, in return for us respecting their forests."

"Wow," Willow breathed. "I wonder if anyone in Kurast knows there are still hulks alive? Or maybe, given what happened, they'd rather not anyone know…"

"Maybe," Tara agreed, "from what I hear, they're very private creatures. They're very big and strong, so probably people used to be afraid of them, and not treat them very well. At any rate, if we can't get any more bramble oil, there's a few alternatives that are easy to find. I'll show you how to treat the bow when it's time. I do mine every week or so, just to keep it in best condition while I use it, but if you do it once a month the bow won't be any worse for wear. The oil regenerates the wood, so it doesn't matter if you leave it a little longer, but if you use the bow regularly it's best to treat it more frequently."

"Gotcha," Willow said, "once a week when practicing, once a month otherwise. What's the string made out of? More icky bits of demonic animals?"

"Silk," Tara grinned, "but I suppose if you consider that it comes out of silkworms' bottoms, that's quite icky. The end loops are sinew again, just for extra strength. Now, hopefully we'll have a little time before dark when we stop to practice for real, but for now, just feel how the bow draws and releases. Oh, you'll want this," she added, finding a leather bracer in her bundle and gently tightening it around Willow's left wrist.

"Trust me," she said, "having a bowstring whack your wrist isn't an enviable experience. Give it a try. Hold your fingers like this…use your thumb to hold the string, and hold the tip of your thumb with your fingers…now, fire away."

Willow slowly drew the bow back, feeling the tension in her arms but finding she could handle it. When she had drawn the bow far enough back she sighted down the length of an invisible arrow, glanced down to check that her chest wasn't in the line of fire, and released the string. The bow straightened with an impressively professional whipping noise, the string just grazing the bracer around her wrist.

"Pretty good," Tara said, "especially for your first try. We'll work on it a little more for now. In the field, you'd use a ring on your thumb, to keep the string from digging in too much after you've been pulling it a lot, but for now it's better to be able to feel it on your skin. Let me know if it starts to be a bit sore, I've got some spare rings, so you can have one of those."

Willow took a few more arrowless shots with her bow, then watched Tara closely as she demonstrated some minor corrections and improvements. Throughout the morning they worked on Willow's form, with Tara frequently demonstrating techniques she didn't quite know how to explain in words, having learned them to the point of instinct long ago. She was very visibly proud at Willow's attention and progress, which pleased Willow in turn, and made her all the more determined to learn what Tara was teaching her well.

As the day passed the sky lightened, and in the afternoon they were able to ride with the roof rolled up, enjoying the scenery as Tara explained all manner of things to Willow, about the way an arrow needed to bend from the bow when it fired, how and why practice arrows were fitted with spiral-wrapped feathers rather than the straight fins on target or war arrows, how the various shapes of bows affected their ranges and accuracy. She strung her own bow and showed Willow how the handle was curved inward of the shaft - 'four-curved', Willow learned, as opposed to 'recurved' for her lighter bow - and at Willow's insistence let her try drawing it, which she did, but only with considerable effort.

The afternoon passed quickly, between learning technique and posture, practicing drawing with an arrow, aimed safely off to the side of the road, just in case the string slipped, and some long divergences during which Willow lay in front of Tara, leaning on her elbows and smiling up at her as she explained the history and legends behind the Amazon warriors and their bows. When the caravan finally halted, a little before sunset to take advantage of a good location their scouts had found, Tara picked an old tree on the other side of the road, with clear ground to either side, and snagged a cloth on it as a target for Willow to aim at. It wasn't anything like the range Willow had seen Tara tackle at the contest, nor was the cloth as small a mark as the bullseye of a target board, but Willow nonetheless jumped excitedly and hugged Tara when, on her fourth shot, her arrow caught the corner of the scrap of material and pinned it to the trunk. A handful of the Amazons, who had drifted over to watch Willow practice under Tara's tuition, gave a round of applause, which cheered her greatly, though not so much as Tara's proud smile.

"You're a fast learner," Tara observed idly after dinner, when she and Willow had curled up beneath their blankets.

"That's something Ember showed me," Willow said, "to learn new things by understanding them, not just copying what I see. I think if I'd just tried to do exactly what you do, I'd have taken a lot longer to get the hang of it. Of course, it helped that you gave me the whole works about the technique, and the way archery developed, and all that. It made it easier to see why you hold the bow the way you do, why you aim the way you do…it was easier to find the right way for me to do it."

"Every warrior has to find her own way," Tara said, "it's something Solari always taught. I'm glad you enjoyed it, I-I'm glad I could teach you something too. I've learned so much just from being with you, and listening to you talk about all the things you've studied."

"I've learned plenty from you too," Willow pointed out. "All about Amazons, your legends and culture, the traditions and customs you have… and I've learned what it's like to be exactly where I want to be in the world."

"Me too," Tara whispered, as Willow trailed affectionate kisses up her neck and cheek.

"I like using a bow," Willow murmured, smiling as Tara returned her kisses, working her way slowly down her neck and onto her shoulder. "It's like magic…it's all about controlling the power…not just letting it fly… you have to feel it…know exactly…how much…to…ooh Tara…" she trailed off, as Tara reached her breasts, and began giving her long, lusty strokes with her tongue the length of her cleavage.

"Oh baby that's good," Willow moaned as Tara leaned to her right side and delicately licked her nipple. She arched her back and moaned again, wordlessly, as Tara's mouth enveloped her in warmth. Tara licked and sucked her enthusiastically, at the same time pressing her moist sex against her thigh down below. Willow first pressed back with her leg, making Tara groan with pleasure, then eased back and worked her hand down between their bodies. Tara lifted her hips to give Willow access to her, relinquishing her hold on Willow's nipple only to switch to the other one.

"All…about…control," Willow murmured as her fingers strokes Tara's lips, feeling the moisture from her center. "Its all…small motion…built up…" She slipped a finger between Tara's lips and teased her entrance. "You draw the string…back…slowly," she curled her finger, then straightened it and gently pressed deeper, "and…the power…all goes…into…the release." She reached the farthest depth she could reach, and slowly pulled back until she was again merely teasing her with her fingertip. She was surprised to feel Tara's hand against hers, and let Tara hold her fingers, guiding them, until her index and forefinger rested together between her lips.

"You want…?" she asked tentatively.

"Uh-huh," Tara murmured, barely lifting her mouth from Willow's straining nipple. Willow moved her fingers a little, testing Tara's entrance and finding it more than willing. Tara lifted herself up a little, just enough to stare into Willow's eyes.

"I've never done it like this," she whispered, breathing warm air over Willow's moistened nipples as she spoke, "always just with one…I want this, Willow, I want you."

"Never?" Willow asked. "A-are you sure you want-" In response, Tara gently pressed Willow's hand against her sex.

"Feel that," she purred, "I'm so ready for you…feel how wet I am, how hot? All for you, baby…I need you, baby, I need you so much." She leaned forward and gave Willow the full benefit of her aroused gaze.

"Take me," she whispered, "right now…look into my eyes and take me, Willow." Willow could feel herself getting thoroughly wet, even without Tara's mouth on her breasts, just from hearing her. She returned Tara's stare, not even blinking once as she slowly slid her two fingers into her sex. Tara's mouth opened in a silent moan, and her eyes half-closed, lidded with desire as she stared at Willow. To Willow, everything seemed attenuated, as if her entry to Tara took a lifetime, but at last she was buried in her, as deep as she could be, feeling the tight warmth of Tara pressed against her questing fingers on all sides. Slowly she moved, just a little, drawing her fingers out just a fraction before gently thrusting forward again.

"Ooohhh," Tara moaned, a primal sound from deep within herself. She began to rock her hips, just gently, and Willow matched her stroke for stroke.

"Oh baby," Tara purred, her lips brushing Willow's as she moved, "that feels…so wonderful…oh goddess…you're so deep…in me…" She let out a gasp as Willow's fingertips brushed her sweet spot, and lunged forward to kiss Willow as she centered her fingers there and began to stroke it with every thrust. Willow reveled in the kiss, feeling something like rapture at having Tara so open and vulnerable to her, and at the same time kissing her with such demanding passion, as if she would accept nothing less than the complete acquiescence which she eagerly provided, parting her lips to let Tara's tongue claim her mouth, feeling the thrill she felt every time they kissed, as if it was in some way always the first time.

Willow felt Tara's body begin to tense, the thrusts of her hips becoming more demanding, and she strengthened the answering thrusts of her fingers, savoring the way Tara would tremble and moan into their kiss every time she hit the sweet spot deep within her. She felt Tara's fingers stroke her sex, and parted her legs to allow her to touch wherever she wanted. Tara's thumb found her clit as her fingers stroked her lips, and it was only a few strokes before Willow, already aroused beyond belief, felt herself ready to climax. She quickened her pace within Tara, her free hand on the back of her head, encouraging Tara's lusty, possessive kissing. Tara drove herself down onto Willow's fingers one last time, moaning deeply into her mouth, and Willow felt her sex tighten and spasm, which was more than enough to set off her own climax as Tara's hand on her lost its rhythm and simply pressed against her, covering her with the heat radiating from her skin. Tara broke off her kiss to draw in a shuddering gasp of air, her stare somehow conveying all that she was feeling, then she collapsed down on top of Willow, her body writhing slowly with the aftershocks of her pleasure.

"Oh my sweet Willow," she whispered, "oh my goddess…did you enjoy that, my Willow? I did, so much." Willow nodded as enthusiastically as she could, now that drowsiness was overtaking both of them.

"I love you," Tara murmured, "I love everything about you… oh you make me so happy Willow…let me hold you…" Willow nestled up to Tara, blissfully content as she lay in her arms, surrounded by the warmth of their blankets and Tara's body. Tara kissed her neck and lay her head down next to her, whispering in her ear the words of her lullaby song, until both fell asleep.

Chapter 25

Tara woke to the sound of someone knocking on the wagon's tailboard. Blinking away sleep and pulling on a robe, she pulled back the canvas flap to find Tryptin, with a parcel under one arm.

"We're getting under way early today," he explained, "sorry to wake you. There's breakfast here," he added, offering the parcel to Tara. "The nearest stream is a little way away, but I've sent a couple of the guards to fetch some fresh water."

"Thank you," Tara said, squinting a little from the strong sunlight outside. She opened the parcel and set its contents aside, then nestled up to Willow, who was still curled up among the blankets, sleeping peacefully.

"Honey, are you awake?" she whispered.

"Yeah but the snowballs are busy," she mumbled.

"Breakfast's here," Tara said, stifling a laugh.

"I'll tell them," Willow replied. Tara smiled and shook her head, then wriggled her arm underneath Willow so she could embrace her with both arms. Willow, still mostly asleep, grinned and stretched in Tara's hold.

"No more snowballs," she murmured, "pretty Tara…" She started slightly when the wagon lurched into motion, then turned her head to look at Tara, blinking slowly.

"Did we move?" she asked. "Or was that just cause you're touching me?"

"I'd like to think so," Tara grinned, "but yes, we're moving. Breakfast's here, and there'll be fresh water on the supply wagon. How would you like me to help you bathe this morning?" she added in a sultry purr.

"Ooh, how can I refuse?" Willow said. "Thank you, my lovely warrior."

"You're welcome, my sweet sorceress," Tara replied.

"Heh," Willow chuckled, "lots of esses there." Tara laughed.

"How about," she said thoughtfully, "my sweet, scintillating, sensual, stunning, shapely," she nibbled Willow's ear briefly, "hmm, succulent…sinfully sexy…" she fell silent as her lips found Willow's, and she spent a moment sucking on her lip before deepening the kiss. Willow eagerly complied, and moaned joyously as Tara guided her tongue into her mouth and lavished attention on it.

"Run out of S-words?" Willow asked cheekily when Tara leaned back to smile at her.

"Not even close," Tara promised, "I was just pondering how to demonstrate 'salacious'."

"Any way you want."

"I like the sound of that."

"Not as much as I do," Willow grinned. "But right now, I could use something to eat." Tara raised an eyebrow and licked her lips suggestively. "Breakfast, you insatiable minx!" Willow scolded her fondly. Tara handed a robe to her as she quickly dressed in a skirt and tunic. She pulled her boots on and grabbed a bread roll just as Willow started.

"You're in a hurry," Willow observed with a grin.

"I don't want to get there and find that all the water's gone," Tara said, "then I'd have to wait until evening to bathe my Willow. And that just wouldn't do," she added in a regal manner. She winked at Willow as she slipped out of the wagon, dropping to the ground lightly and wandering to the side of the road while the caravan trundled on, waiting the moment it took for the supply wagon to reach her.

"Morning, miss," said Kert, who was sitting on the back of the wagon studying a map.

"Good morning Kert," Tara said politely. She climbed into the open-topped wagon and found a pair of reasonable-sized gourds, which she began filling from the small metal tank sitting half-full in the center of the floor. She tilted her head to read Kert's map as she held the first gourd underwater.

"Most recent map of the area," he explained, business-like, holding it up for Tara to see. "First time in some years I've made the trip to Duncraig along this road. Best to know what's in store."

"Of course," Tara said. She pointed at the winding roads on the map, which was impressively detailed. "We're going along here?"

"That's right," Kert said, "the highland road. Normally a caravan would take the river road, but there's no sure roads between there and the highland towns the Duncraig gentlemen are visiting. We should make the crossroads with the Jesram trail by nightfall, if the weather holds good. Two days on that will see us to Jesram town, then we'll be on the northern trail, and rejoin the highland road two days after, here at Harthim. That's officially the border of Duncraig realm, but it's still six days to the city itself after that. The gentlemen are discussing whether to make another detour, like the Jesram trip, to pass through Namon, that'll add another two days if we go there."

"How long to the city, all up?" Tara asked, filling the second gourd.

"If this weather stays with us? Twelve days, maybe eleven, depending on how much rest Master Shan thinks the beasts need. Light rain won't matter much on these roads, but if we get heavy rains - which is always possible, this time of year - well, if it pours the whole way, could be three weeks. Hope for clear skies, eh?"

"Yes," Tara agreed, taking the water and climbing back to the ground. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, miss," Kert said, returning to his scrutiny of the map. Tara paced herself at a fast walk, slowly overtaking the wagons ahead of her. The morning was slightly chilly, but not unpleasant, the sun was shining bright, and only a few wisps of fast-moving cloud off to the east marked a sky that was otherwise clear blue from horizon to horizon. Tara wondered if she might go riding in the afternoon, and pondered whether Willow might come with her. Most of the horses following in the wake of the wagons were placid, well-behaved animals, and though not a very experienced horsewoman herself, Tara found a certain joy in riding, and thought Willow would enjoy it too, once she gained a little confidence. 'Or perhaps,' she mused, 'she could sit behind me, and just enjoy the ride without worrying about the horse. That wouldn't be bad at all.'

Willow immediately noticed Tara's contented grin as she climbed back into their wagon.

"You're thinking something fun," she concluded, handing her a cheese roll from the remains of breakfast.

"I was just thinking of going riding this afternoon," Tara explained. "Do you think you might join me?"

"You mean sitting behind you, arms around your waist, snuggled up tight against you?" Willow asked.

"That's pretty much what I was thinking."

"I like the way you think," Willow grinned, "it's a date."

"No, it's an apple," Tara said, picking one up.

"Silly," Willow replied, swatting her lightly on the arm. Tara grinned, took a bite out of the apple, and busied herself spreading out a double layer of thick towels over the blankets.

"Are you ready for your bath?" she asked with a hopeful smile.

"As if you need to ask," Willow said. She knelt on one end of the towels, shrugged off her robe and lay facedown, turning her head sideways to grin up at Tara.

"And once again you've managed to get me naked," she observed. "You know, recently I've been spending more time out of clothes than in."

"And this is a bad thing?" Tara asked jokingly.

"Not at all," Willow said, "there's much less laundry to do." She closed her eyes and moaned quietly as Tara trailed a finger up her leg from her ankle, across her bottom, up her back, finishing up tickling her ear, followed by a quick kiss.

"There are other benefits too," she said dreamily. Tara poured some water into a dish, wet a washcloth, and started rubbing Willow's back, soaping her as she went.

"Mmm," Willow sighed, "this is like a fairy tale."

"How so?" Tara grinned.

"You know," Willow murmured, "the ones where there's a lonely princess who spends all her days reading and dreaming of far-away places…oh that's nice!" she interrupted herself, as Tara gave her bottom a squeeze en route to her thighs. "And then a dazzling warrior comes riding up on a white horse…wins the princess's heart…takes her all the places she used to dream about…and they live happily ever after."

"I haven't exactly taken you anywhere," Tara mentioned, firmly massaging Willow's legs as she rinsed the soap away, "unless you count the archery contest in Maresburg."

"Yes you have," Willow said, "remember that morning we met in the courtyard, back at the Baron's castle? You held my hand, and we talked, and you asked me to go with you to the dinner, and then…mmm, you kissed me," she murmured, as Tara ran her hands up her sides, gently brushing the sides of her breasts pressed against the towels beneath her. "I love how you kiss me," she went on, "how you touch me…how you look at me…that takes me to a place better than anything I ever dreamed of."

"Turn over," Tara said softly. Willow did, and stared up at Tara, who was leaning over her with tears in her eyes and a brilliant smile on her lips. She kissed Willow, gently, almost chastely, letting her lips caress Willow's, demonstrating through the contact the joy she was feeling.

"You're the most beautiful princess I could ever imagine," she whispered. With Willow speechless, Tara returned to her task, soaking the washcloth once more and running it over Willow's arms, chest and stomach. Willow grinned as Tara began to give her breasts more attention than mere cleanliness seemed to demand.

"I don't remember ever reading a fairy tale where the noble warrior did that to the princess," she observed.

"Their loss," Tara said matter-of-factly, giving Willow's breasts a last squeeze before moving down over her hips to her legs. "Just making sure you live happily ever after, in every possible way."

"Oh I am," Willow said, stretching her legs as Tara caressed them firmly. "You know how much I enjoy being with you…talking, sharing thoughts…just, you know, being together…and I don't want to sound like it's just a physical thing, but you are the most fantastic lover." Tara smiled and chuckled to herself.

"I'll accept that," she said, "only if I can be equal most fantastic with you. Besides," she added, finishing with the washcloth and lying down next to Willow, "the way you move, the way you sigh and moan when I touch you…" she got a shy smile on her lips, and kissed Willow quickly. "How could I be content with anything less?" she finished softly.

"Gods you're hot," Willow breathed, "just a few words, and I want to jump on you and make love to you right now."

"Am I stopping you?" Tara asked with a grin.

"First things first," Willow said, sitting up, "I think I owe you a little pampering." Tara smiled, and lay down on the fresh towel Willow spread out for her, lifting her hips and arms to help as Willow undressed her. She enjoyed the way Willow's eyes roamed over her body, and stretched her arms out above her head, arching her back.

"Hey," Willow protested with a grin, "quit trying to seduce me, you. Come on, turn over." Tara obediently rolled onto her stomach, content with the aroused way Willow was biting her lip as she gazed at her.

"I love your legs, you know that?" Willow commented as she was running the washcloth over them, trailing the soap in its wake with her other hand. "You've got beautiful legs…curvy…elegant. I love the way you move. And oh, those thighs…" she murmured, rinsing them with more than a little sensual squeezing. "Those are unquestionably thighs that demand to be touched, and squeezed, and massaged, and kissed-" she broke off as she planted a firm kiss on the back of each thigh, before straddling Tara's legs and moving her attention upwards.

"Shoulders, now," she continued, "look at how smooth these are…strong, too. Lovely firm shoulders…all that exercising and bow practice, hmm? And these arms are perfect for holding me, especially when you make me feel weak all over and I just collapse in your arms, and you hold me… I've never felt anything like that before, you know…just to give myself to you…here I am, completely yours, do whatever you want with me…it's a beautiful feeling."

"For me too," Tara murmured, her eyes closed, all her awareness fixed on Willow's touch as she rubbed the soap on her hands and cleaned it off.

"Now now," Willow said, "can't let myself get too distracted…this lovely back of yours, hmm." Willow lay herself down on top of Tara, leisurely pressing her body into Tara's back. "I could stay here forever," she whispered. "Heh, naughty me," she added, "I've got a job to do." She sat up again and ran her hands firmly up and down Tara's back, rubbing the soap into her skin with her bare hands much more thoroughly than was necessary.

"Could there be," Willow said eventually, moving her hands down, "a more squeezable bottom in the whole world?"

"How about yours?" Tara asked lazily, grinning as Willow massaged away with relish.

"You think?" Willow said.

"Sure," Tara replied, "remember that little thing you wore to the Baron's dinner? Oh my goddess…"

"Hmm, thank you," Willow said, feeling a definite rush of warmth from the praise. "I'll have to remember to tease you with that more often."

"I'm sure you will."

"Now, let me see, did I miss anything? Legs, arms, body, bottom," she gave Tara a light swat. "Flip over and I'll continue." Tara did as she was asked, stretching to deliberately show herself off, opening one eye just a fraction to make sure Willow was watching. Willow gazed at her with an intensity that said she had things other than bathing on her mind.

"Well," Willow gulped, "I, ah, already covered your lovely legs…oh, but I forgot to mention," she added, working her way up from Tara's feet with firm strokes, "how nice it is to rest my cheek against the inside of your thigh…right before I reach out my tongue and- well, I'm getting ahead of myself there," she finished with a wicked grin.

"Tease," Tara accused.

"Yup," Willow admitted happily. "These hips, now, these I love…they move so sensually…and your lovely stomach…mmm, I could spend a long time on your exceedingly kissable belly…"

"Feel free," Tara said airily.

"I think I will," Willow replied, "but first…and I bet you knew I was getting ready for this…" She straddled Tara's hips and ran the washcloth briefly over Tara's chest, before discarding it, covering her hands in a generous lather and taking a breast in each hand.

"I admit it," she said gleefully, "I'm a breast girl." She squeezed and massaged Tara's breasts, the motions of her hands becoming more arousing as they became soapy and slippery. "But what choice do I have, when I'm confronted with such a truly angelic bosom?" Tara's breathing became steadily heavier as Willow's hands did their work, until, by the time Willow finally finished and cleaned the soap from her chest, she was moaning quietly, slowly tossing her head from side to side. Willow gave her one last, satisfied look up and down, then leaned forward to whisper in her ear.

"But you know what the best part of you is?" she murmured. "Not your luscious, shapely legs, or your lovely embracing arms, or your gentle, loving hands, or your fingers that reach into me and touch my soul, or your divine breasts, or your soft hair, or your endless blue eyes, or even," her voice became a breathy sigh, "even your wonderful sex…do you know what it is? It's this…" She kissed Tara, slowly opening her mouth and running her tongue along her lips.

"That kiss in the castle gardens," she whispered, staring into Tara's gaze, "that was what did it. Even though I didn't realize it, not fully, back then, that was the moment I became yours. So these lips," she punctuated herself with a quick kiss, "are special, because they claimed me. They showed me how to make my life complete, by giving myself to you, body and soul. I love you so much, Tara, so much…"

"I love you too Willow," Tara said softly, "body and soul, yours." She put a hand behind Willow's head and gently brought her down until their lips met again. Willow sighed, writhing slowly on top of Tara, using all of her body to communicate her arousal as their legs intertwined. Then the wagon lurched to a halt.

"Not now," Willow murmured plaintively, glaring up at the heavens beyond the canvas roof.

"Something's happening," Tara said. Willow listened, and heard the voices of the various wagon drivers calling to each other, "All stop," down the caravan's line. There were hooves, a horse moving quickly, and other voices, raised, though not alarmingly so.

"We should see what's going on," Tara said regretfully.

"It'd better be good," Willow griped as she rolled off her and sat up. Both dressed quickly, Willow just pulling on her boots as Tara flashed her a smile and ducked out of the wagon. Willow smiled after her, and impulsively reached under her skirt, pulled off her briefs, rummaged in her bags for the extremely minimal underwear that went with her green dress, and pulled it on. Grinning a shameless grin, she followed Tara out.

Tara was waiting outside for her, looking up the line of wagons to where several men were gathered, one of them on horseback. One of them was Tryptin - he saw them, and waved them over. As they hurried closer they saw Shan, Kert, and two of the caravan's guards, one still atop his horse, the other holding his by the reins as he spoke quietly.

"…not much left," he was saying as Willow and Tara drew into earshot, "but maybe three weeks. Hard to say, though, with the fire."

"Any sign of hostiles?" Kert asked.

"No sir," the guard replied, "none more recent than the bodies. We passed Petar and Hans out on forward left flank on our way back, and they signaled all clear."

"Our forward scouts found the scene of a battle," Tryptin said quietly, as Kert, Shan and the guard talked. "A caravan's been ambushed by the looks of it, not recently but sometime during the last month. Excuse me," he turned back to Shan and Kert.

"I think we should press on," Shan said, "we're making good time, and unless I'm wrong we'll reach the crossroads with plenty of time to spare. There's people there, not a town as such, but it's well-fortified and provisioned, if worst befalls."

"I'd like to examine the scene," Kert said, "we might learn something."

"Very well," Shan said, "how far did you say it was?"

"Twenty minutes," the guard said, "we were scouting farther ahead, but it's in a hollow, it wasn't until we came along the road itself that we saw it."

"Alright," Shan said, "we'll halt and learn what we may. One hour, mind, no more."

"Yes sir," Kert said, signaling the guards to return to their duties. Tryptin exchanged a word with Shan, then turned to Tara.

"I'm sorry to ask this of you," he said, "but it might be important…my fiancé is a tracker, she's mentioned that all warriors are trained in the basics of tracking."

"I'll find out what I can," Tara promised. "We're taught to recognize and interpret the signs of people and animals moving, or fighting," she explained to Willow. "I might be able to provide some information about this ambush."

"I'll help," Willow said, "the Order teaches us to trail various kinds of demonic creatures. I might be able to spot something."

"Thank you both," Tryptin said.

"Three weeks ago," Tara said, "maybe four. It's rained heavily twice since then, but I think no longer ago than four weeks."

She was down on one knee, slowly trailing her fingers through the dirt from a patch she had scooped up with the tip of a knife. She had used the time the caravan had taken to reach the ambush site to change into her leathers, while Willow had quickly checked Ember's journal and various of her other books for entries on lesser demons, specifically what distinctive traces, if any, they left on battlefields. She stood behind Tara, leaning on her staff and gazing around, looking for something to catch her eye, Ember's journal open in her free hand.

As Kert's guard had said, the scene of the ambush was in a hollow, not readily visible from afar. The road had been cleared, but still bore a blackened patch where a fire had burned. The charred remains of a burned wagon lay to one side of the road, where they had been dragged, and a little further off were three graves, marked with crosses in the manner common to most of the faiths of Westmarch and Khanduras. On the other side of the road, in a patch of bare land, a dozen or more blackened bodies remained, piled up and burned. Kert and his chief scout were moving slowly about the scene, discerning what they could from the scene.

"They must have driven off the attackers," Willow said, "otherwise who buried them like that? See the way the markers have a halo scratched into the wood, at the joint of the cross? They were prepared for burial so they wouldn't rise. No demon would do that."

"There's traces here of at least five wagons," Tara added, "but only the remains of one. The others must have continued on."

"Do you think brigands might have done it?" Willow asked. "Stolen the wagons, buried their own, and burned the victims?"

"Perhaps, but I'd bet against it," Tara said. "If they wanted to steal, they wouldn't have set fire to a wagon. Maybe it happened by accident, during the fighting, but…well, there's one way to be sure." She stood up and looked across the road at the pile of charred corpses.

"And the day started off so nicely," lamented Willow with a rueful grin. She shrugged, and she and Tara made their way to the pile of bodies. There wasn't much left, fortunately most of the flesh seemed to have been burned beyond the point of rotting, and the air bore only a faint smell of decay.

"Not human," Tara observed, her voice a little strained, but level. "Too small. Carvers?"

Willow pulled a face, and leaned forward to tap one of the protruding extremities with her staff. The piece she touched crumbled a little, making a small pile of ash.

"I should be able to tell," she said, borrowing Tara's knife to scoop up a little of the ash. She handed the knife back to Tara and reached into one of the pouches on her belt, drawing out a handful of small runestones. She sorted through them, finally selecting three and kneeling down to place them on the ground. Tara handed the knife back to her, and watched as she dumped the ash over the stones, then used the tip of the blade to draw a pattern in the dirt, linking the stones. When she was satisfied with the arrangement she drew a diamond shape around it, and watched as the ash stirred and settled into some of the channels she had scratched in the ground.

"Carvers, fallen or dark ones," she said thoughtfully. "They're similar creatures, I don't have the equipment to do a more accurate spell. But dark ones are pretty rare, and almost never come out from underground anyway. Last I heard, all the nests of fallen this far south had been wiped out. Carvers it is."

"How does that work?" Tara asked as Willow picked up her runes and scratched out the pattern in the dirt.

"It's a sort of prime magic," Willow explained. "All living things, even demonic creatures, have their own animating energy. It's distinct from the soul, and it stays in the body after death, until it seeps back into the earth, which takes months. The pattern has lines that represent various kinds of energy, and the runes provide a little kick to move the remains into the parts of the pattern that match them. It works with blood, normally, so I guess it's lucky they were burned."

"Be thankful for small mercies," Tara observed.

"Yeah, I'm not really up for touching Carver blood," Willow said with a slight grin, a little of the color returning to her face as she and Tara turned their backs on the piled-up demon corpses.

"So, the way I read it, maybe three dozen of them attacked," Tara said, "it's difficult to tell from the traces, but I think it may have been that many."

"Probably at least than many," Willow said, "if they attacked a caravan of five wagons. They'd only risk it if they had strength in numbers."

"There were trained men with the caravan," Tara went on, "maybe not in uniform, maybe the creatures just didn't realize. They drove them back after the initial attack, fought them over there," she pointed beyond where the traces of the burned wagon had been, "killed enough that the others broke and ran. They couldn't put out the fire on the burning wagon - maybe there was alcohol or flammable stores in it - so they waited until it burned itself out, then dragged what was left off the road. And buried their dead," she added thoughtfully. Willow followed her gaze, to the three graves, where Kert was standing, staring at one of them. They walked over, and stood in silence, waiting for him to acknowledge them. He looked up, sadness etched in his face.

"It was last month's caravan," he explained quietly, "set out four weeks ago, headed out west over the highlands." He nodded at the middle of the three graves. "I knew him. Good man." He lapsed into silence for a moment, then looked at Willow and Tara again. "Did you learn anything?"

"W-we're pretty sure it was Carvers," Tara said quietly. "They attacked, were fought off quickly, b-but not before they burned a wagon and… did this. Between three and four weeks ago. Nothing since then."

"Thank you miss," Kert said, "you too, miss," he added to Willow. "The dead have been properly seen to, and those," he shot a glare at the charred demon bodies, "don't deserve better. We'll move on shortly." Willow and Tara stayed a moment, staring in silence at the graves, then turned and headed back to their wagon.

"Are you okay?" Willow asked, concerned at the frown marring Tara's face as they sat together, feeling the wagon lurch into motion.

"I'm fine," Tara said with a quick smile, "just…unease. It'll pass. You?"

"Same, I guess," Willow admitted. "Hey, you want to take that ride?" Tara looked up thoughtfully, then smiled properly.

"I'd like that," she replied.

Tara's choice of horse for the two of them, called Aurora, the attendant told her, was strong but gentle, able to carry both Willow and Tara without complaint. Tara smiled as Willow, at her suggestion, talked to the horse for a little while before settling into the saddle behind her, proclaiming Aurora 'very nice, for a horse.' They rode at a gentle pace alongside the caravan through the day, returning to the saddle after lunch at Willow's prompting - she admitted she was starting to see the appeal of riding, though once they were out again, she confessed that it was partly how much she could feel Tara enjoying herself. They talked idly, of nothing in particular, for most of the afternoon. Tara spent most of the time gazing out at the highland panorama around them, the sharply angled hills on either side rising to distant mountains in the west, and dropping away on the eastern horizon, where, invisible to the caravan, the Kingsway river ran. Willow cuddled contentedly against Tara's back, and talked in a rambling fashion, the scenery prompting her to recall various snippets of geography she had learned from the Zann Esu library, going off on long tangents whenever she thought of something interesting.

The Jesram crossroads, when they reached it just as the sun was touching the mountains in the west, was definitely not worth calling a town, but looked sturdy nonetheless. There were a few small one room houses and lean-tos on either side of the crossroads, but the important buildings, the storehouses, the smithy and the guard house, were all contained within high earth walls, built out from the side of a hill on the east side of the road, facing along the Jesram trail. The top of the wall was fortified with a wooden stockade, which ran up the hill itself, encompassing a watchtower at the top. The handful of guards manning the post had seen the caravan approaching, and had the gates open and waiting as they approached. The gates closed again once all the wagons were inside, and Kert and Shan spoke to the sergeant in command. Willow and Tara retired to their wagon, the tiny outpost having no accommodations for travelers.

"Thank you for riding with me," Tara said, as Willow prepared a simple dinner for them. "The morning was, well, a bit of a shock, but I… I feel better now."

"You're welcome," Willow said, handing her a plate, "and you know I'd do anything to make you feel better. But I really do enjoy riding with you, regardless of the circumstances. You might make a horsewoman out of me yet."

"Really? Galloping along, leaping over hedges?"

"Don't get too ambitious," Willow warned her with a laugh. "I'm glad you feel better," she said, in a sort voice. "The last few days have been…well, pretty darn close to perfect, I guess the reality of the world was bound to turn up sooner or later."

They ate mostly in silence, with a few random observations about the day punctuating their meal. Tara finished first, idly brushing Willow's hair while she waited for her to finish. Willow gave her a kiss and took her plate once she was done, returning them both to the small kitchen in the outpost they had come from. When she got back, Tara was just pulling off her armor and preparing for bed.

"What's this?" she asked with a grin, as Willow shuffled out of her skirt, revealing her lack of substantial underwear.

"Oh, that," Willow said, "I forgot…I put it on this morning. You know, when the day was still going all fairy-tale-style."

"Fairy tales always have goblins, or something like that, don't they?" asked Tara.

"Yep, usually. Goblins, mean old dwarves, wicked witches, thank you very much whoever writes those things."

"Well then," Tara said, "just so long as there's a happy ending, it doesn't matter if there's a monster or two along the way." She leaned over to Willow and murmured in her ear: "I think tonight should have a happy ending, don't you?"

"Oh gods," Willow said, "as if I could ever refuse. But you don't have to, you know-"

"But I want to," Tara whispered, teasing Willow's ear with the tip of her tongue. "Shall I tell you what I want?"

"Please," Willow sighed.

"You must be tired," Tara went on, "from all that riding, if you're not used to it. I think you should lay down and relax, and let me kiss your sex until you're dripping wet." Willow swallowed, her breath stalling for a moment at Tara's words, spoken in her most seductive purr. She lifted her arms as Tara pulled her top up and off, then lay back among the blankets just as Tara has asked, relaxing herself completely as Tara took off her boots and hooked her fingers into the waist of her underwear. Slowly, following her fingers with kisses, she pulled them down Willow's legs. Willow spread her thighs at Tara's gentle prompting, and moaned quietly as she felt the sublime sensation of Tara's lips tenderly kissing all over her sex.

"Oh baby," she whispered as Tara's tongue parted her lips, "oh gods that's wonderful." Tara alternated her attentions between long, deep explorations inside Willow's sex, and sensual licking and nibbling of her lips. She made sure to touch Willow's clit only lightly, and just in passing, letting her climax build slowly rather than urging it. Willow writhed her legs slowly, unable to keep her body still, as she whispered "my love" over and over, like a mantra.

Finally Tara closed her lips softly around Willow's clit and began to suck, lightly at first, but with building intensity, her tongue moving from brief, soft caresses to firmly massaging the bundle of nerves. Willow moaned as loud as she dared, spreading her legs wide to give Tara complete access. She reached down and wound her hand into Tara's hair, holding her head against her sex. Tara smiled, her lips pressed firmly against Willow, and teased her opening with a fingertip.

"Oh yes baby," Willow moaned, "oh gods yes…" Tara teased her a moment longer, waiting until Willow's moans and writhing started to become just a little desperate, then carefully lined up her index and forefinger and buried them in Willow in one smooth motion.

"Ah!" Willow exclaimed, her mouth remaining open as she tossed her head back, her knees lifting to give her the traction to thrust her hips towards Tara, taking Tara's offered fingers within herself as deep as she could, until Tara's knuckles nestled between the lips of her sex. Tara flexed her fingers, drawing another sharp moan from Willow, then began rhythmically stroking her, matching her fingertips on Willow's sweet spot with her tongue on her clit. Willow's breathing came in time to Tara's ministrations, steadily increasing in pace as her fingers thrust, her tongue worked, and at last Willow came with a muffled cry, her sex providing ample juices which Tara lovingly, eagerly licked up.

"Oh my Tara," Willow murmured, as Tara moved up to lie beside her, enveloping her in her embrace as they had become accustomed to, "happily ever after…body and soul…"

"Happily ever after," Tara agreed, settling her head down and nestling into Willow's hair.

Chapter 26

Willow opened her eyes and blinked slowly, trying to work out what had woken her up in the first place. Rain was beating on the wagon's canvas roof, but it was a steady sound that she had to concentrate to really notice, and not the kind of thing she thought would have woken her. She had a vague memory of Tara saying something, and a moment later her curiosity was sated as Tara murmured something incoherent in her ear from behind. Willow smiled and slowly turned herself over to face her lover, finding her still asleep and, to all appearances, in the middle of a very enjoyable dream, arching her body against Willow and murmuring a lot of 'mmm' sounds, along with a word here and there that Willow didn't quite catch.

"Someone's having good dreams," Willow whispered to herself, careful not to disturb Tara from her pleasant slumber. 'Not that I can complain,' she added in the privacy of her own mind. Willow's dreams had featured the occasional disturbing moment of something moving in shadows, and a chilling, hissing whisper, but always the unsettling images and sounds faded away into inconsequentiality, in the face of a dream-Tara holding her, stroking her hair, whispering sweet words and touching her in sweeter places. She had also dreamed something about a school of fish singing in harmony, with a swimming mouse accompanying them in a resonant bass, but she had long ago learned not to spend too much time analyzing those kinds of dreams.

Willow was drawn pleasantly out of her reverie by Tara's voice, mumbling something that sounded like 'Willow'. Willow smiled widely, wrapping an arm around Tara's waist, stealthily so as not to wake her, delighted that she was in Tara's dreams just as Tara had been in hers. Tara's eyes remained closed, but on some level she seemed aware of Willow, the hand that had been around Willow, now loosely draped over her back, lightly clutching at her, as if in her dream Tara was pulling her closer. Willow eagerly obliged, weaving her legs between Tara's and pressing their bodies together. She was surprised to feel just how much heat and moisture there was against her thigh when Tara clamped it between her legs and rolled her hips forward.

"Very good dreams," Willow murmured. She stayed still for a moment, letting Tara move against her which she did with increasing vigor, then succumbed to the temptation of Tara's breasts pressing against her, and leaned down. Tara moaned quietly as Willow took her nipple into her mouth, encouraging Willow to hold her a little firmer between her lips, and flick her tongue back and forth.

Tara's body shuddered and both her hands went at once to the back of Willow's head, holding her to her breast as her hips rocked heatedly against her thigh. Willow slid her leg forward rhythmically, meeting Tara's thrusts, thoroughly enjoying the feel of Tara's fingers in her hair, urging her to a task that she needed no urging to undertake in the first place. She stilled her tongue for a moment, concentrating purely on the sensations she could give with her lips, sucking voraciously, and a moment later Tara gasped, squeezed her legs tightly around Willow's thigh, and her body released a wave of pleasure. Willow leisurely trailed her hand up and down Tara's side as she recovered, feeling her tremble from the contact.

"Good morning," she said with a grin when Tara finally opened her eyes and looked down at her.

"Willow," Tara whispered, smiling, "oh goddess…good morning to you too, Miss Understatement." Willow laughed.

"You seemed to be having a nice dream," she explained, "so I thought I'd join in."

"Oh, I was having…" Tara trailed off. "Actually, it was kind of strange. Not strange in a bad way," she hastened to reassure Willow, "just, you know…not something I'd have quite expected."

"Oh?" Willow said, all curiosity. "How so?"

"Well," Tara said slowly, "it was about you – that's not the strange part," she added with a quick grin. "Um, it was at home – Tran Athulua – and we were in my room, and you lay me down and leaned over and you were kissing me…really kissing me, and I was getting so worked up, I felt like I was going to burst…and then, you, um, started kissing my breasts…" Tara trailed off, looking very shy.

"And?" Willow prompted gently.

"And," Tara said, blushing, "I, um…you were sucking my nipples, and I…um, I was giving you milk." At Willow's surprised look, she quickly went on: "Not like you were a baby or anything, I mean, it was, goddess, i-it was so…erotic, I felt so…um, anyway, I think that's when I woke up, and," she smiled, "things weren't too far from what I'd been dreaming. Um, is that okay?"

"Is it okay?" Willow echoed. "Of course it's- Tara, I love you! Of course it's okay, I mean, yes, it's, well…"

"Unusual," Tara said.

"Okay," Willow admitted, "it wasn't the first thing I would've guessed, but you know, I don't think there's anything wrong with what you were dreaming."

"I-I don't want you to think I'm thinking of you like a child, or anything," Tara said hesitantly.

"Not at all," Willow assured her, "I think…I think that was a really beautiful thing you were imagining, and I think it was about you sharing something very, very intimate and loving with me, a-and I love you so much…I love that you want to take care of me, and that you share your, your life, everything, with me so completely…"

"I know," Tara said, "I just didn't want you to think I was imagining you…I don't know, um, in a, a passive position? Or something like that."

"No, honey," Willow cooed, "no, I never thought that…I mean, it's okay for you to feel that way for me, I feel the same way for you, and I know you accept it, you let me take care of you in all these ways, like bathing you, and getting our meals ready, and stuff…I think what your dream was about was you caring for me, and us being in love."

"I do love you Willow," Tara murmured, "so much…"

"I love you too," Willow replied. "Just out of curiosity, do Amazons breastfeed? Is it something you talk about, or – well, not just talk about randomly, but, I mean, where I was born for instance, it was this really private thing, a mother would never do it in public. Is it like that?"

"No," Tara said, "no, it's just…if a mother has a baby that's hungry, she feeds the baby, I don't think anyone would ever object to it. I was just, well, a bit nervous about what you might think…you know, with it being something between a mother and child."

"Well, I've never felt like you were treating me like a child," Willow said, "and you're really nothing like my mother. I think, for us, it's between you and me, as lovers. Okay?"

"Okay," Tara said.

"Okay," Willow echoed. "So, now that that's out of the way, are you going to keep telling me about this dream in exquisite detail?" Tara grinned, a lot of her shyness gone.

"It was…intense," she said. "Wh-when I felt you drinking from me, it was like we weren't two people anymore, I was physically becoming part of you…and it was creating this incredible heat inside me, and I was getting so wet it was unbelievable…"

"Actually that part wasn't just a dream," Willow smiled, "and my thigh definitely believed it."

"Heh," Tara chuckled, "yeah…I felt as if…as if I was going to come, but not just my sex, I felt it in my whole body, every part of me, and I was giving it all to you…" She took a deep breath. "I'm pretty sure I woke up around then, and suddenly it was real, you were sucking my nipple, and I was coming so hard I…wow," she said with a grin, "you really know how to make a girl glad she woke up."

"Well, you know," Willow said dismissively, smiling cheekily, "all part of the service when you get me to fall in love with you. I'm just glad my dream-self is keeping up her end of the bargain." Tara hugged her warmly.

"I love that you're in my dreams," she whispered, "even when I'm asleep you're with me."

"You're in my dreams too," Willow said, "all the time. Though, I wouldn't say no to a few of your dreams…I think my imagination wastes too much time on singing fish."

"Singing fish?"

"They had this little song," Willow explained without thinking, "sort of, 'It's good to be a fish, it's good to be a fish, even if you're a mouse…' There was a mouse, too, that was his line…" She grinned at Tara, who was struggling not to laugh.

"The mouse was singing too?" she asked.

"Oh yeah, in this deep bass voice," she pitched her voice as deep as it would go, "'even if you're a mouse'." Tara burst out laughing, and Willow joined in.

"I love your dreams," Tara said.

"More than yours?" Willow asked with a grin. "Because, you know, soprano fish versus orgasmic experience…I know which one I'd choose." Tara smiled and stroked her cheek.

"Oh Willow," she said softly, "right now, this moment…every moment I spend with you is so much better than any dream I've ever had."

Willow held one side of a waterproof tarpaulin as Tara climbed down from the wagon, quickly taking up the other side to shield them both from the rain. Together they made their way across the muddy courtyard to the guardhouse, where the caravan had made its headquarters for the night, and where breakfast would be found. Instead they found Shan and Gerrid engaged in a heated argument, with Kert, Tryptin and Melcan watching silently from the sidelines.

"-bloody dangerous, that's why," Shan was saying flatly as they closed the door on the rain-soaked courtyard.

"Surely not for a caravan this size, this well-armed," Gerrid protested.

"Large and well-armed we may be," Shan countered, "but I tell you sir, if we take the west road we're asking for trouble."

"The prospects do not look good for the Duncraig delegation to make its detour to Jesram," Tryptin explained, as Melcan poured Willow and Tara each a bowl of hot soup from the pot on the fire.

"It's a town of three hundred people," Gerrid said, "and barely two days from the realm's border, surely you don't think there's any real threat."

"It's not the town I'm worried about," Shan said, "it's the road. You've seen what it's like outside. Well sir, I was up at dawn watching the weather come in, and I tell you we'll be lucky if the rain lifts before the week is out."

"Can't we deal with some rain?" Gerrid asked.

"The rain's not the danger," Shan countered, "that road's not a hard surface like the highland is, in this weather it'll be three days to Jesram and another four to Harthim, and that's if we're lucky and don't throw a wheel, or sink one of the carts axle-deep in a pothole. That's seven days that we're a slow-moving target for any band of these creatures that sees us!"

"Is the threat really so severe?" Gerrid asked, turning to Kert. The lieutenant squared his shoulders, and spoke in a grim voice.

"I think it may be," he said, "I've talked to all the guards here, and they've kept records of what was said by all who passed through this crossroads. From what they've heard, there's been no less than three incidents on the Jesram road involving loss of life due to creatures of some kind. One of the parties gave their word it was demons that attacked them. And this is a highlands storm; we know all about this kind of weather, we get the like of it at home. It'll sit here for a week or more, foul any road barring proper hard surfaces…our scouts won't be able to see far enough to be useful, and trumpets or lit arrows won't serve as signals in this downpour, so our outriders'll have to stay within sight of us. I'm not saying we'll definitely be attacked, or that we won't fight well and a damn sight fiercer than any demon will expect, but…I don't like it, sir, and that's a fact. I'm with Master Shan – we should make for the ford, and Harthim."

"Well…" Gerrid hesitated, "I'm loath to risk the safety of the caravan, of course…you're sure the road will be good? The ford will be safe to cross?"

"The highland road's solidly-built," Shan said with authority, "it'll hold a hard surface to anything less than a hurricane, and the ford likewise. It's reinforced, far sturdier than it need be, for the size of the river. I've crossed it safely in spring, with the melt water from the mountains swelling the river – this rain won't be a problem."

"I see," Gerrid said, obviously not happy with the way the argument was going, "well, then, if this route is that much safer…but the Duke is expecting the reports from Jesram, you see, the dispatches we were to bring back cover all the Kingsway mountains, you must know how important they are, the mines and so forth…"

"Begging your pardon, sir," Kert said, "but I could go alone, and fetch your reports. If there's nothing to do but collect them?"

"I suppose," Gerrid began, then frowned. "But you'd be in just as much danger, surely- no, more, one man alone instead of an armed caravan!"

"I'll take my horse and a remount," Kert explained patiently, "set a quick pace there and back, cut across country north of the river rather than following the road's route. I know these horses, they won't complain about the ground in this weather. Would you say two days?" he asked Shan.

"Two," Shan said, "if you start early and ride hard. It could be done."

"And I don't know monsters," Kert went on to Gerrid, "but if they're anything like brigands, they'll not be trouble to a soldier riding fast. They'd have to catch him, kill a trained man, for no reward other than what he carries on him. No supply wagons to loot. It's not profitable. That's if I'm spotted – they may watch the roads, but it'd be a sure-sighted creature that'd find a man riding across country in this rain."

"Well…" Gerrid said again, "it's not that I doubt your capabilities, of course, the Baron highly recommended you, and your men…but still, to ask you to ride off alone, in these conditions with these creatures about-"

"You're not asking me, sir," Kert said, "I'm volunteering. This is important business of yours and Duncraig's, and as an officer of Kingsport it's my duty."

"Very well," Gerrid said, after a brief hesitation, "very well…come with me, then, I'll explain what you must do when you reach Jesram…" He and Kert left the guardhouse, and Tara watched them through the window, splashing across the courtyard towards Gerrid's wagon.

"So we're going where now?" Willow asked.

"Staying on this road, by the look of it," Tara said, remembering what she had seen of Kert's map. "There's a small river that runs down from the mountains to the Kingsway. Up ahead there's a ford where the highland road crosses it, then Harthim, where Duncraig's border is."

"How long will it take to go that way?" Willow asked Shan.

"Two days, I expect miss," he said. "I'd have said a day and a half, and we'd be in Harthim tomorrow afternoon, but in this weather we'll probably have to make camp just on the other side of the ford, and it'll be evening by the time we reach the town. Good solid road all the way, though," he went on, noticing Tryptin listening in, "I doubt you'll notice the rain having much of an effect, so long as we all keep the wagons covered. The road up to Jesram and back is really just a wide trail, it'll be mud as deep as the ocean by now. But Kert'll be fine on horseback, I wouldn't be surprised if he reached Harthim same time as us."

"Don't people travel up there much?" Tryptin wondered.

"Not often, no," Shan said, "it's a big town, but all they really do is operate the mines. Duncraig sends a barge up the river every season to bring out the minerals, so I suppose they've never seen the need for a proper road up there. New town, you know, when I was a boy it was just getting started. The highland road, now, that's been here for centuries. We'll be fine."

"Pity," Tara said quietly to Willow, "I was looking forward to seeing the mountains. I've never seen realm mountains, apart from the ones at home. I thought I might do some sketches."

"One day," Willow promised, "we'll follow the route I took when I first went to Entsteig. We got on a riverboat high up in the ranges and sailed down…sometimes the cliffs on either side of the river reach up to the sky, it's like another world. You'll be able to sketch to your heart's content."

"It sounds amazing," Tara smiled, "but you realize, of course, if you insist on taking me to these wonderful places, we'll be too busy doing other things to our hearts' content."

"Finish your soup," Willow whispered with a seductive look, "our wagon is beckoning."

They passed Kert, on his way to the stables, and Tara put a hand on Willow's arm for a moment to halt her, then ducked out from underneath the shelter of their tarpaulin to face him.

"Gods be with you," she said, meeting his gaze. He nodded, one warrior to another, then went on his way as Tara ducked back underneath the shelter with Willow, and they both scurried back to their wagon as quickly as they could.

"He'll be okay, won't he?" Willow said once they had scrambled back out of the rain. "I mean, all that stuff he said about riding quickly, and no-one spotting him or paying any attention…?"

"That's all true," Tara said reassuringly, pulling off her boots and wiping the mud off with a cloth before storing them, "I think he'll be fine. H-he seems a very good soldier, from what I've seen."

"Can never have too many prayers, though?" Willow asked.

"That's about it," Tara said. "Brrr! I don't envy him the ride." She shivered, prompting Willow to reach for a towel to help dry her off.

"First things first," she said, "let's get you out of those wet clothes."

"My Willow," Tara smiled, "you never miss an opportunity…"

"Look in the mirror sometime and see if you can blame me," Willow joked. She helped Tara off with the heavy tunic she had chosen to keep the rain out, then got distracted kissing her stomach as she was undoing her skirt.

"You know," Tara mused, "I'm starting to think you had an ulterior motive for getting my clothes off. Eeep!" she added as Willow plunged her tongue into her navel and tickled her.

"Not at all," Willow said as she resumed pulling Tara's skirt down, "if it was ulterior it'd be all subtle and unnoticeable. Whereas I make no secret of the fact that I find you utterly," she punctuated with another kiss on Tara's navel, "totally sexy, and that your mere presence is enough to turn me on unbelievably."

"My mere presence, huh?" Tara said, sitting up after lying down to help Willow get her skirt off. "So, if I was, for example, just sitting here, fully-clothed, reading a book, that'd be enough to turn you on?"

"Yep," Willow happily confirmed.

"So," Tara said, her voice low, "what if I was sitting in front of you just like this, completely naked, and I were to tell you that I'm seriously considering lying you down, straddling your hips, kissing you until you moan, reaching into you, bringing you to climax, and then licking your juices off my fingers afterwards?"

"Uh…" Willow managed, her mouth hanging open.

"I'll take that as a 'yes', shall I?" Tara smiled.

"Uh-huh," Willow replied. Tara's smile widened as she put her hands to Willow's shoulders, gently pushing her down to rest on the blankets. As promised, she straddled Willow, placing her hands on her hips and straightening her back, reveling in the lustful stare she received from Willow. She gave Willow a wink, then leaned forward slowly, bringing her lips agonizing close to Willow's without quite touching.

"You want me to kiss you," she murmured, more an observation than a question. Willow let out a desperate whimper.

"Oh gods please," she sighed.

"Not yet," Tara whispered, as her right hand trailed down Willow's body, reaching the hem of her skirt and pulling it up her legs to bunch around her waist.

"Not just yet," Tara repeated softly, "just…little tastes…" She brushed her lips lightly against Willow's, enjoying the way Willow would gasp and move for her with each contact. She kept up her teasing half-kisses as her fingers crept down through Willow's curls, pushing her underwear down as she went, reaching down further to stroke the lips of her sex.

"Oh gods please," Willow moaned again.

"Not yet," Tara insisted gently, "when I enter you…when I reach inside you and touch your soul…then I'll kiss you…would you like that?"

"Ah," Willow gasped incoherently, as Tara's fingers parted her lips and teased her entrance.

"You're so wet," Tara breathed.

"For you," Willow gasped, "yours…" Tara lowered her mouth onto Willow's, at the same time as her finger slid deep inside her, Willow's wetness offering no resistance. Willow's body surged beneath her, her hips and mouth mirroring each other as both reached towards the penetration, deepening it. Tara swirled her tongue in Willow's mouth, exploring every angle, as her finger stroked Willow inside, pumping gently, pressing against her walls. She fixed her attention on Willow's tongue at the same moment as she found her sweet spot. Willow jolted as if an arc of power were running between the two points, electrifying her body with every thrust. She moaned loudly into Tara's mouth as Tara's thumb brushed her clit – only a single, light contact, but it was enough to release the orgasm building inside her. Again and again she moaned, Tara swallowing the sound, as her body shook, and rewarded Tara's questing finger with a gush of her juices.

When Tara finally parted her lips from Willow's it felt strange to her, as if having Tara's lips pressed against her mouth was her natural state, and she was somehow exposed and unfinished without it. The feeling lasted only a fraction of a second before Tara was gently kissing her cheek and neck, renewing the contact that Willow craved. She had just the strength to roll her head sideways to look at Tara, as she leaned back, supporting her head with one arm.

"I love you," Tara said, "you're beautiful in every way." She lifted her other hand, glistening with Willow's wetness, and carefully licked the juices from it, her blissful expression showing Willow exactly how much she was enjoying it.

"My goddess," Willow whispered.

"Do you want to play a game?" Tara asked.

"Ooh, what kind of game?" Willow replied with a mischievous grin, causing Tara to laugh. The rain outside had continued through the morning as the caravan set off for the ford, easily slightly now and then but keeping up a steady downpour nonetheless. The turn-off for the Jesram road, only a few hundred meters beyond the crossroads outpost, had already begun to look weather-beaten and difficultly muddy, but the highland road held firm, just as Shan had said it would.

"Not that kind of game, you insatiable creature," Tara said, "it's a mind game. Strategy, logic, that kind of thing."

"Hey, it's me," Willow said with a grin, "logic is a turn-on."

"You're hopeless," Tara said fondly. She opened one of her bags, unloading her ceremonial armor and producing a slim wooden box from beneath it, which she handed to Willow as she repacked the armor. Willow looked at it curiously – it was half as deep as it was wide, and both top and bottom were patterned with painted squares, red and dark gray.

"Open it," Tara said, laying her breastplate back on top of the accompanying leathers and strapping the bag shut again. Willow flipped open the latch of the box and found the inside divided in two, each with a selection of carved playing pieces, also red and gray. She picked one and examined it closely – it was finely made, a tiny woman with a bow on her back, crouching like a tracker on her base. Tara took the box and upended it on a blanket, tipping out the other pieces, then laid it out so that the hinged halves of the box came together to form a playing board.

"It's called Lycander's Command," Tara explained, setting the pieces on the board. "After one of our greatest generals. Hundreds of years ago the Zaggasi pirates mounted a huge assault on the islands, and conquered Skovos and Philios. The island that's called Lycander now was the last bastion we had. Lycander was the husband of the Grand Mistress, the commander of all our armies, and when she was lost in the retreat from Philios, and there were no other veteran warriors, he took command. He was a strategic genius – our warriors were outnumbered, the pirates had great warships and they'd built forts on Philios and Skovos, but Lycander outmaneuvered them, and after four years drove them off the islands completely. When the government was restored and a new Queen was chosen, she offered him permanent command, as our first Grand Master, but he chose to go back to being a farmer, and caring for his daughter." She finished arranging the pieces, ranked against each other on either side of the board.

"These are the Governors," she said, pointing to the matching pieces in the centers of the red and gray lines, the only ones that were male. "They represent the people the warriors are protecting. They can't fight as well as most of the other pieces, but if you lose your Governor you lose the game. This is the Grand Mistress," next to each governor was a figure of a woman in ornate armor, with a long spear, "she's the commander of the army, and she's the best fighter. These two are Champions," women in tall full-face helmets carrying crossbows, "these are Huntresses, they can move behind enemy lines," the crouched bow-wielding figures Willow had examined one of earlier, "these are Ballistae," crossbow-like war engines mounted on wheels, "and these are your Warriors." The front rank of each 'army' was composed entirely of Warriors, eight on each side, with bucklers and javelins. Tara demonstrated briefly how each one moved, then explained the special rules for Warriors advancing on their first move, and how Huntresses could move through enemy pieces, but no one else could, and how the Governor could make a 'decoy' switch with a Ballista. Willow moved a couple of the pieces experimentally, and found that they stuck to the board.

"How's that work?" she asked, peering at the figures' bases, each of which contained a tiny metal disc. "Magnets?"

"It's something the priests of Zerae can do," Tara explained, "they treat iron with a little of Zerae's power, and the metal attracts or repels depending on which way around you have it. I'm not sure exactly how it's done. They use it for all sorts of things."

"We call it magnetics," Willow said, "lightning sorceresses can create magnetic iron out of normal iron."

"What do you use it for?" Tara asked.

"Well, nothing much," Willow admitted, "keeping cabinet doors closed, that kind of thing. Nothing very impressive. There's rumors that the assassins use magnetics to create their weapons, make metal move and fly the way we do with fire and ice. I don't know if that's true, no one knows much about them. There's stories that there's even a way to make iron alive, but I have no idea how that works, or who's supposed to be able to do it. It's probably just a myth." She peered at the figure in her hands, then replaced it and tilted the board slightly, watching the pieces hold their positions. "Cool. Who goes first?"

Tara gave Willow and her small army of red pieces the first move, and the game began. At first Willow concentrated on trying to maneuver her pieces into striking positions without risking them to counter-attack, spending most of her time countering Tara's moves and making it risky for her to advance. After several turns the lines of Warriors had become staggered and some of the second rank had moved forward. Willow was surprised to see Tara leave one of her Ballistae in a vulnerable position, and hesitated before she could strike with one of her Huntresses. She withdrew her hand, aware of Tara watching her intently, and studied the board, seeing the trap after a moment – her Huntress would have fallen next turn, to a Champion currently halfway across the board.

"I get it," she said gleefully, "nice try."

"Drat," said Tara with a grin.

"Your problem," Willow said, moving one of her own Champions to threaten a Huntress instead, "is that I *know* you're not careless enough to leave an opening like that."

"I'll have to make my careless moves more carefully," Tara smiled, swooping her Grand Mistress in to take a Warrior and threaten Willow's Governor. Willow stared at the board for a moment, working out how Tara had maneuvered her pieces into that position without her noticing.

"Nice," she grinned, biting the tip of her tongue in thought, "very nice…but the brain of Willow does not submit so easily." Over the next dozen or so turns she and Tara dueled for position, sacrificing a Warrior or two along the way to draw the other into a difficult strike. Finally Willow managed, with considerable difficulty, to draw Tara into a position where both a Ballista and a Huntress were threatened. Tara raised an eyebrow.

"You catch on fast," she murmured, "but then again, I already knew that."

"Hey, no fair," Willow protested, "it's hard enough concentrating with you leaning forward like that." Tara looked down at the neckline of her top, which, as she leant on her arms to ponder the board, was more than a little revealing.

"A good tactician uses every advantage at her disposal," she said with a placid smile.

"Well fine," Willow said with an innocent-looking bat of her eyelashes, "but just remember, if I lose this game because my thoughts were elsewhere, you owe me a rematch and I'm taking my skirt off."

"That sounds like plenty of incentive for me to win," Tara laughed. She protected her Huntress, and made Willow give a Warrior next turn in exchange for the loss of her Ballista. With both defensive lines slowly being whittled down the game became faster and more fluid, with risks paying greater rewards, but the loss of each piece sacrificed for a striking position more keenly felt. Finally it came down to both Governors, Tara's Huntress and Champion, and Willow's Grand Mistress, all stalking each other around the board.

"Nuts," Willow frowned, when finally, for all her Grand Mistress's flexibility, she couldn't keep her Governor from being boxed in and immobilized by Tara's pieces. "You win."

"Not quite," Tara said, "if you can't move but I can't strike with the pieces as they are, it's considered a draw in my favor. What do you think?"

"I love it," Willow said. Tara smiled at her enthusiasm.

"Want another round?" she asked.

"Does a draw in your favor mean I take my skirt off?" Willow asked, already undoing her belt.

"Difficult to say," Tara said, doing her best to sound offhand, "I don't think there are formal rules for strip Command."

"Well, we'll just have to make some then, won't we?" Willow said, stretching up on her knees and letting her skirt drop.

The caravan reached the ford just as afternoon was turning into evening, and crossed the river with the last light of the day. There was much to do to prepare the camp site on the other side, which hadn't seen use in some time, and it was well into the evening by the time the wagons were corralled, the horses set to graze and sleep under the watchful eye of their handlers, and the night shift of guards stationed nearby, keeping watch as best they could through the rain while huddling beneath their cloaks and hoods for warmth. Finally, within a tent to keep the rain at bay and prevent the light from shining too brightly, a fire was started and the caravan's amateur cooks set to work.

Tara chose her time carefully, scurrying out in boots, a thick robe and waterproof cape and hood, while the rain eased off for a few minutes to a light drizzle. She had insisted there was no need for Willow to come with her, and was duly rewarded when she returned to the wagon with two covered plates, and Willow pampered her outrageously, drying her, vigorously rubbing her thighs and arms to warm her, and not coincidentally stirring Tara's appetite for more than food. They talked during dinner, about the journey ahead and the prospect of reaching the border of Duncraig realm the next day, but increasingly their eyes were drawn to the other's stare, and they would lose track of what they were saying. Finally Willow set aside her empty plate and moved to sit beside Tara, stroking her thigh idly as she finished her meal.

"So tell me," she said as Tara leaned over to discard her plate, "what's it like on the islands? Impressive mountain ranges?" Her hand made its way up Tara's body and settled in her cleavage, her fingertips stroking lightly up and down.

"Uh-huh," Tara breathed, lying back. Willow lay beside her, head propped up on one arm, her other hand continuing its leisurely study of Tara's chest.

"Yes," she said, watching Tara's breathing deepen, "very impressive…proud peaks…" She trailed a fingertip up Tara's breast and over her nipple, then began stroking her stomach. "Plains, too, I bet?"

"Beneath the mountains," Tara whispered, biting her lip and grinning.

"And let me guess," Willow went on, her hand moving lower, "then comes the jungle." She ran her fingers through Tara's curls, smiling at the reaction she saw in Tara's expression.

"Oh that's divine," she whispered as Willow's fingertips brushed back and forth.

"But we haven't finished yet," Willow purred, "there's still where the land…meets the deep, seductive sea." Tara gasped as Willow's fingers skirted either side of her clit and gently parted her lips.

"Willow," she breathed, "please…I…" She touched Willow's thigh, and Willow at once understood, and lifted herself up on her knees, half-straddling Tara, staring up at her with lustful eyes as she delicately kissed each of her nipples. Tara closed her eyes and moaned, a blissful smile on her face, and her hand moved up the inside of Willow's thigh to touch her sex.

"Together," Willow said in a gasp, positioning the tip of her finger at Tara's entrance.

"Yes," Tara sighed, her fingertip between Willow's lips, ready.

Willow and Tara entered each other simultaneously, both sliding their fingers into the wet, gripping heat that awaited them. When they reached their depth inside each other they were still for a moment, then Willow began to rock her hips slowly back and forth, and started a series of gentle, firm thrusts into Tara's sex. Tara matched her move for move, and Willow lifted her head to catch Tara's lips in a searing kiss as they moved as one, each cupping the other's mound, rubbing her clit, each rolling their hips forward, welcoming the other into her sex, gasping in their kiss as they found each other's special spot and applied a firm pressure with every thrust. There was no separation; their two bodies were a single form, their mirrored pleasuring of each other drawing on a single orgasm the stirred deep in both their bodies, fuelled by their desire to please each other and accept the other's pleasure in return, gaining strength in both their sexes, electrifying both their bodies, reaching up into their breasts as they pressed against each other, and to their lips as they kissed, and as one they came. Both moaned into the other's mouth – loudly, though if they were heard there was no sign of it – and Willow eased herself down to lie half on top of Tara, her body completely spent, her finger still within Tara and her sex still treating her to ripples of pleasure as Tara remained within her.

"One day," Tara promised, using her free hand to draw the heavy blankets over both of them, "we'll see the islands…I'll show you everything…"

"I have everything I need right here," Willow murmured, kissing Tara's neck and nibbling lightly on her ear. "I love you forever, baby."

"I love you, my Willow," Tara whispered, sleep starting to get the better of her. "My love, my heart…my soul…my joy…goodnight, my sweet Willow."

"G'night," Willow mumbled, "love you…forever."

Chapter 27

Tara woke, yawned, and smiled down at Willow, who was pillowed on her breast and, even in sleep, gave every indication of enjoying her position. She wriggled slightly as Tara stretched, then opened her eyes and blinked lazily.

"'lo," she murmured.

"Hello," Tara replied, grinning.

"Wha' time's it?" Willow asked.

"Early," Tara said, "we're not moving yet."

"Oh, yeah. Raining still," she observed. She peered at Tara in the gloom of the unlit wagon. "What're you grinning at?" she asked.

"You must've been having a good dream," Tara said.

"I must've?" Willow enquired.

"My thigh's between your legs," Tara whispered, "it's, ah, pretty hot and wet down there."

"Heh," Willow chuckled, "yeah, guess it is…"

"Seems a shame to let all that lovely Willow-goodness go to waste," Tara purred, "why don't you bring it up here?" Willow looked hesitant for a moment, but at Tara's obliging nod she lifted herself up on hands and knees and straddled Tara's waist.

"Come on," Tara murmured, "don't be shy." Willow slowly moved further up, letting the blankets fall off her shoulders as she straightened up. Tara reached down and wrapped her arms around Willow's thighs, pulling her hips closer to her mouth.

"That's right," she breathed as Willow knelt on either side of her head, and gently lowered herself. "What a way to wake up…"

"Mmm," Willow agreed as Tara's tongue reached out and made contact with her sex, teasing her lips lightly. She held herself in position, her hands clutched around the front beam of the wagon, enjoying Tara's attention immensely but hesitant to overwhelm her in what was, she had to admit, an extremely vulnerable position. Tara substantially banished those doubts when her arms around Willow's thighs tightened, her mouth opened, and she firmly pulled Willow down onto her.

"Oh gods!" Willow gasped, barely able to stop herself from raising her voice to a pitch that would've had the whole campsite awake. "Oh I love you!" Her hips moved of their own accord, rolling her sex back and forth over Tara's lips as her tongue delved inside her. She still worried a little about pressing down too firmly on Tara, but with Tara not just allowing but downright insisting on such a strong contact, Willow began to let herself enjoy the moment, trusting to Tara to let her know if she needed to lift herself.

For Tara's part, she felt as if she was in heaven, with barely a moment since she had woken up, and already her lungs were full of Willow's scent, her mouth full of her taste, and her ears catching every sigh and moan that came from her lips. She felt Willow's thighs on either side of her tremble, and knew that her climax wasn't far away. Unwinding her right arm from around Willow's leg, she moved her lips up a little to her clit, nibbling and sucking with abandon while clearing the way for her finger to find Willow's entrance and slide into her.

Willow's breathing was fast and shallow, her lungs working to the rhythm Tara was setting within her. She let her head fall forward, staring down at Tara's eyes, which glittered with joy. Between Tara's lips on her clit and the thrusts of her finger into her, Willow felt as if she would either come or explode. Her breath caught, her body tensed and her sex tightened as she began to orgasm, and at that moment, on her last thrust, Tara drove two fingers into Willow and hit her sweet spot hard.

Willow threw her head back and opened her mouth in a silent scream of joy, feeling her insides flip over themselves as her climax began. As her sex began to spasm she suddenly needed Tara desperately, and lifted herself off her, kicking blankets out of the way as she moved her hips back to straddle her waist, grinding her wetness onto her stomach as her mouth found Tara's. She kissed Tara intensely, her passion only strengthened by tasting herself on her lover's lips, her tongue delving into Tara's mouth as she coated her waist with her juices.

Tara cuddled Willow and returned her kiss with matching passion, holding her as her body shook and trembled its way through the aftershocks of her climax. Willow's lips became softer, gentler and less insistent as her body relaxed, and finally she trailed downward, kissing down Tara's jaw and finally resting atop her, her lips pressed against her neck.

"A-are you okay?" Tara asked quietly. "That was kind of…" she paused and searched for the word.

"Wonderful," Willow finished for her. "I'm fine, baby, oh gods I'm fine."

"Good," Tara smiled, "I just…I was a bit, um, well, I came on strong a bit there at the end, I know."

"And I loved it," Willow said, pressing kisses to the side of her neck. "I don't think I'm ever going to sleep in again, if this is what happens when I wake up."

"You liked?" Tara asked rhetorically.

"Oh, baby, I loved," Willow enthused. "At first it was a bit, you know, strange to be…well, sitting on your face," she giggled. "But…oh, you make love to me so beautifully…a-and looking down at you, seeing you like that, enjoying me so much…I swear I could've come just from that sight alone." She smiled, then shifted up a little to bring her eyes level with Tara's.

"What about you?" she asked.

"Me?" Tara smiled, and then adopted her most sensual purr. "The first thing I did this day was to have my beautiful Willow come all over my face…and my stomach…and my leg, if you recall…" She grinned cheekily. "I guess you could say I'm well covered."

"Minx," Willow said, kissing her.

"It was exciting, hot…I felt really close to you, really… intimate," Tara said. Willow wrapped her arms tight around Tara and hugged her.

"I love you," she murmured. "Have I mentioned that yet today?"

"Yes you have," Tara grinned, "vehemently. I love you too, Willow. I love everything that you are, completely."

"You've got everything that I am," Willow promised, "completely. Ahhh," she sighed.

"I guess," she added after a moment, "one of us is going to have to go out in that rain and get breakfast."

"I'll go," Tara offered.

"No, I'll go," Willow insisted, "you went out last night, it's my turn."

"I'll change the blankets while you're out," Tara said.

"Yeah, we could probably use a new set," Willow mused, sitting up and reaching for the bag with her traveling clothes. "Oh, hey, how about you put a pan out on the front and catch some rainwater? I've got an itching to run my hands all over you, and a bath seems like a good excuse."

"Since when did you need an excuse?" Tara joked, sitting up as Willow dressed. Willow leaned over to her, cupping her left breast and squeezing firmly while her lips sought out Tara's mouth, opened it, and her tongue dove inside.

"I'm trying to be a modest lady," Willow said with a formal air, and a sly smile tugging the corners of her mouth, belying her claim.

"You're not trying very hard," Tara countered.

"No I'm not," Willow admitted. "Better put an extra pan out for water."

"Why's that?" Tara wondered. Willow grinned mischievously.

"Because," she explained, pulling on her boots, "probably about half-way through your bath I'm going to be making you all hot and sweaty again, and then I'll have to start over." She winked at Tara and disappeared out of the wagon, leaving Tara to smile after her.

When Willow returned, Tara was leaning out the back, with a cloak over her head to keep dry, attaching a sack full of blankets and other laundry to the outside of the wagon. Willow leaned under her hood and gave her a quick kiss, then gratefully scrambled back into the warmth of the wagon's interior, leaving her waterproof cape on a hook outside.

"What's cooking?" Tara asked, hugging Willow from behind and rubbing her arms, warming her quickly.

"Porridge," Willow said, uncovering the single large bowl she had brought back, releasing warm steam and an enticing aroma.

"Nice and warm," Tara smiled.

"Warm indeed," Willow agreed, leaning back into Tara's embrace and tilting her head to smile up at her.

"Eat up, vixen," Tara teased, picking a spoon out of the bowl and offering Willow a spoonful of the hot meal. Willow swallowed obediently, kissed Tara, then sat back and took her own spoon.

"I spoke to Tryptin," she said as they ate, "he said we'll definitely reach Harthim tonight. The north lookout saw that the weather at dawn looked lighter that way, he said. The storm's moving west by the look of it."

"I wonder how Kert's doing," Tara mused.

"Probably wet," Willow replied. "Shan just got back from checking the ford, he said the river's flowing high, so it's probably raining buckets up near the mountains."

"I hope he's okay," Tara said quietly.

"Yeah," Willow agreed. She glanced at Tara. "Fellow-warrior-type sentiment?" she asked with a half-smile.

"Something like that," Tara replied, an answering smile appearing on her lips. "He seems a good man, he takes his job seriously…No warrior really wants to be out there, alone, let alone soaking wet and miserable," she added with a grin. "We're taught, in training, that sometimes a warrior has to be alone, and when that happens, we recognize the courage it takes, and offer a prayer for her. Or him, in this case. I'll be glad to see him safe and sound when we get to Harthim. So long as we're on this journey together, he's one of us. I guess I've got that from Tryptin, wanting everyone to be safe and happy."

"No, I think you get that from you," Willow said softly. "It's just one of the many, many reasons I feel blessed to be loved by you." She leaned over and kissed Tara, gentle and tender, her lips soft as silk, warm as sunlight.

"My love," Tara whispered, her eyes still closed from the kiss.

"All yours," Willow said, "you'll never be alone. That's a promise." Tara opened her eyes and fixed Willow with a brilliant smile.

"Eat up," she said warmly, "I put the pans out on the front seat to fill with water, they're probably about full by now."

"Bath-time, then," Willow grinned, gulping down another spoonful of porridge.

"Absolutely," Tara purred, licking her lips.

In no time both Willow and Tara had polished off the remnants of their breakfast. Tara retrieved two water-filled pans from the driver's seat, holding the canvas flap in the front of the roof above herself to keep from getting wet, then sealing it securely shut to keep the rain out. She lay the pans on the flat, steady surface of one of the small crates lining the front of the wagon, and busied herself finding soap and washcloths from the baggage, while Willow laid out towels to keep the blankets dry.

"You first?" she asked when Tara looked back at her. Tara nodded and reached for the hem of her tunic, only to have Willow's hands beat her there.

"Lie back," Willow whispered, beaming. Her smile warmed Tara immeasurably, assuring her than nothing she could do would make Willow feel so content as to simply lie back and let herself be taken care of. Willow gently pulled Tara's tunic up her body as she lay down, pulling it over her head and off her arms.

"No underwear?" Willow asked slyly, undoing the cord of Tara's skirt to confirm that she was just as naked beneath her clothes below the waist as above.

"Didn't seem any need," Tara smiled, "you, ah, didn't exactly conceal your intentions to have me naked right after breakfast."

"No, I didn't, did I?" Willow mused playfully. "Better make good on those intentions, in that case." She slipped Tara's undone skirt out from underneath her and sat back on her heels to survey her naked lover. Tara, basking in the warmth of her gaze, stretched languorously, slowly reaching out her arms above her head as her legs flexed expansively, toes pointed. Willow bit her lip and leaned down to speak directly to Tara, staring into her eyes.

"You are, without a doubt," she said slowly, "the sexiest creature ever to walk the earth." Tara blinked slowly, a sensuous smile spreading across her face.

"And I'm all yours," she replied. Willow chuckled and kissed her, nibbling on her lower lip. She sat back and surveyed Tara again, her eyes following every curve of her body. She took a washcloth, wet it, and began rubbing soap into Tara's legs, lifting them from the blankets to work underneath them. Tara obediently held her legs up, one then the other, as Willow ran her hands up their length, starting at her toes and rubbing firmly all the way up her calves and thighs. She spent a while longer than was necessary running her hands over Tara's thighs, and the way Tara's breathing caught slightly each time her hands made their way up near her hips was not lost on her. With a smile full of promise she rinsed off Tara's legs and followed with her arms, soaping and rinsing while giving every indication of immense pleasure in touching her.

Tara sighed with delight as Willow, having dutifully soaped her stomach and shoulders, naturally came to her breasts and lingered. Willow took a breast in each hand and massaged steadily, establishing a rhythm where she would squeeze in with her fingertips as she pressed upwards, then stretch her hands flat and press her palms against Tara's nipples as she moved her hands down again. She paused a moment to quickly pull off her tunic and skirt, and straddled Tara clad only in her underwear, her bra slightly tight as she breathed deeply, and her briefs accomplishing nothing in terms of concealing the heated moistness that she settled on Tara's waist. Smiling down at Tara from astride her, she resumed her attentions to her breasts, slow and rhythmic, matching her motions to Tara's breathing.

Tara's nipples were already hard, and she began sighing and lazily tossing her head from side to side as Willow worked steadily on her breasts, massaging her with a determination that offered no respite for Tara to cool off or be distracted by other sensations. She closed her eyes and limited her world to only two sensations: one, Willow's hands on her chest, kneading her breasts in the most exquisite way, and two, the heat of Willow's sex, wet and inviting through the thin film of her underwear, pressed against her waist.

"You like that baby?" Willow murmured softly.

"Oh goddess yes," Tara sighed. Quite involuntarily she began arching her back, pressing herself into Willow's hands, unashamedly conveying the pleasure that Willow's touch was causing her. Willow got quite lost in her fascination with Tara's breasts, the way they moved, their softness, the sensuous way Tara moved when she squeezed them, the lusty way she would let out a long, deep sigh every time Willow rubbed her palms against her nipples. Without realizing it she too began to move, her hips rolling back and forth, her sex pressing against Tara's stomach. She leaned forward, trusting Tara to support some of her weight, and angled her hips back to press her clit against Tara, the barrier of fabric between them inconsequential.

Tara opened her eyes and fixed Willow with a needful gaze. Willow leant further forward, her hands still massaging Tara's breasts as they kissed, and Tara's hands reached down to pull Willow's briefs down her thighs.

"You're so hot," Tara breathed, her lips still close enough to brush Willow's as she spoke. Willow moaned in reply, and Tara put one hand to the back of her head, drawing her into another, more intense kiss, while her other arm went around her waist, pulling Willow's hips back as she raised her thigh. Willow moaned again, louder, into Tara's mouth as she felt the firm contact, the lips of her sex spreading against the top of Tara's thigh as her clit pressed against her hip just above. Tara raised her thigh higher, and Willow, with her underwear still around her thighs keeping her from spreading her legs very far on either side of Tara, instead rested more of her weight on her hips, on Tara, bucking wildly as her clit ground against Tara's skin.

"Oh baby," she moaned as she came, "oh gods, oh gods, oh… gods…Tara…" She kissed Tara again, deeply, then took a shuddering breath and collapsed on top of her, all will to move momentarily abandoning her.

"My beauty," Tara whispered, "my perfect love Willow…" Willow opened her mouth to say something, though she couldn't imagine what, in reply, when she was interrupted by a creak from the front of the wagon, as someone climbed up and settled onto the driver's seat. Willow met Tara's stare, and both giggled like schoolgirls with a shared secret.

"Good morning!" Willow called.

"Morning miss Willow," the driver replied through the canvas screen between them. "Morning miss Tara."

"Good morning," Tara called out, glancing up at the canvas. When she looked back at Willow she giggled again, silently. Willow, with some effort, lifted herself up to once again sit across Tara's waist, taking a moment to free her soaked briefs from around her legs. She steadied the pans of water, making sure they wouldn't tip as the wagon lurched gently into motion. Then she made sure she had Tara's full attention, licked her lips, dipped her gaze momentarily downward, and put a finger to her lips.

"Shhh," she advised softly. Tara smiled and nodded. Willow got up on hands and knees, moving slowly and with rhythm deliberately to give Tara a delectable view of her pert breasts swaying beneath her, then settled luxuriously down between Tara's legs, her head pillowed on her right thigh. She reached out with her tongue and gave a long lick to the opposite leg, tasting her own wetness so recently spread there. With long, careful strokes she cleaned her arousal off Tara's skin, making sure she accounted for every trace.

Tara steadfastly resisted the temptation to moan when she saw, and felt, what Willow was doing. 'Licking her own juices off my thigh,' she thought, 'oh goddess she's sexy, I think I'm going to burst!' She bit her lip and endured the pleasurable torment as Willow's tongue slowly worked its way closer and closer to her center, which was adding ample amounts of her own arousal to the bouquet her lover was tasting.

Finally Willow's tongue touched the base of her sex and ran up, the tip nudging between her lips, finally passing over her clit as Willow nuzzled into her dark gold curls. Willow lifted her tongue and returned it to the bottom of Tara's center, repeating her motions again, and again, each long, firm lick following just the same path through her. Tara closed her eyes again, swallowing the urge to moan out loud as Willow patiently, sensually continued to lick at her sex, enjoying her like a gourmet with a fine desert.

Willow grew more bold, pressing her tongue down harder as Tara began to rock her hips in response to her attentions. She braced herself with her arms and moved her head back and forth, Tara's hips moving quite dramatically, both falling into a rhythm in which Tara would lift her hips off the towel beneath her with each stroke of Willow's tongue, as if Willow's caress was lifting her. In a strange, wonderful way Willow felt that Tara was making love back to her, her sex kissing her tongue, enfolding it in warmth with every stroke. She leaned further into Tara, her lips now pressing against her as well, paying closer attention to her clit with every thrust of her tongue. She could feel Tara close to climax, and wanted her orgasm to flow from this contact, this caress she had started, that had so beautifully escalated to the point where Tara was lifting herself up, pressing herself into Willow's mouth, freely offering her arousal, the warmth and wetness of her sex, with the utmost certainty that Willow would accept her, all of her, her warmth into her skin, her juices into her body, the total immersion of her senses into her body, just as freely.

Tara reached down and wound her hands into Willow's hair, holding her against her sex as she finally came. Willow opened her jaw wide, engulfing as much of Tara as she could within the warmth of her mouth, her tongue working up and down furiously, gathering the juices flowing from Tara and stimulating her clit, urging more from her. Tara's mouth opened in a silent exclamation of passion, and for a long moment she was motionless, hips held up in mid-air, Willow pressed against her, perfectly still as her insides roiled and surged with her orgasm. She made not a sound, until all of a sudden she went limp and thudded back to the towel and blankets beneath her, and a tiny sigh escaped her. She let her head fall sideways, to allow her to look down at Willow, who was slowly making her way up her body, her sensual gait on hands and knees, and the supremely satisfied smile on her face both reminiscent of a big cat, content to prowl and bask in the sunlight.

"You're amazing," Tara whispered as Willow lay down on top of her, kissing her chin and neck.

"How could I love you, and try for anything less?" Willow replied.

"Oh Willow," Tara sighed, "you're so…oh goddess, there aren't words. I love you."

"I love you," Willow repeated. "Heh, I was right," she added with a chuckle.

"How's that?"

"I am going to have to wash you again."

Willow and Tara's bathing, with its accompanying teasing, touching and kissing, ended up taking much of the morning. With the rain keeping up a steady downpour outside, easing compared to the day before but still far more than would be enjoyable, even in a heavy cloak and hood, both then settled into the confines of the wagon for the day. Willow leafed through Ember's journal some more, finding a rough map of the area they were in, which Tara compared to what she remembered of Kert's map. While searching through Willow's satchels after lunch for a more detailed chart, which Willow was sure was in there somewhere, Tara came across a small set of pipes.

"Are these yours?" she asked curiously.

"Yep," Willow confirmed with a glance. "My artistic side. I'm not that good, but I can carry a tune. Better than I sing, anyway."

"Would you?" Tara asked, offering the pipes to Willow, who accepted them with a hesitant smile.

"I might be a bit out of practice," she cautioned as she crossed her legs and raised the pipes to her lips. She blew a couple of random notes, bringing the tones of the instrument back to her mind, then smiled at Tara and sounded the first three notes of a scale, pure and gentle.

"Do re mi," Tara sang in reply. Willow smiled wider, then repeated her three notes, which Tara again echoed. Willow improvised a quick melody.

"Do re mi, do re mi, fa, mi, re," Tara followed. Willow repeated it again, then kept going as Tara followed her in time, two bars behind and harmonizing perfectly. Willow let herself flow through the music, as she had occasionally used to do when the mood took her, now delighted to find this new way of bringing a smile to Tara's lips. She felt too a wonderful sense of contentment at her music joining with Tara's, the two of them creating something beautiful together, and it was with no small regret that she finally drew their melody to a close, scaling back to the simple sequence of notes that she began with.

"That was fun," she said, grinning.

"Yeah," Tara agreed, "you've got a good ear for music."

"Just not when I sing," Willow joked.

"Maybe," Tara said, "you never know. I didn't try singing until I was fifteen, until then I had no idea I'd enjoy it, or be any good. How would you like to try a duet some time?"

"For you, anything," Willow smiled.

The caravan was within sight of the torchlights of Harthim when the sun set, and with their forward scout letting the townsfolk know they were on their way, and thus to keep the gates open, they entered the town just as evening was setting in. As it turned out the only inn was too small to accommodate more than a handful of the caravan's passengers, so Willow and Tara, along with the Amazons and most of the Duncraig ambassadors, stayed in their wagons.

"No great loss," Willow proclaimed ruefully, returning after fetching a hot dinner from the kitchen. "I had a peek in one of the rooms, the beds are tiny and they look kind of draughty." Tara shrugged and gratefully accepted a vegetable stew Willow had scavenged before the inn's cook had tipped in any bits of rabbit, which most of the other travelers were having. They sat down to eat outside their wagon, the caravan's wagons having been parked underneath a wide wooden shelter, somewhat like a barn, that served to keep the rain off the carts and baggage of visiting travelers.

"I was thinking," Willow said as they ate, "I might stitch an extra layer into my book pouch. Keep Ember's journal on hand, as well as our journal. What do you think?"

"Good idea," Tara agreed. "I was having a look through it this afternoon. She's certainly seen a lot of interesting things."

"Yeah, she used to be quite the traveler," Willow said. "She got a bit of a reputation as an adventurer in the Order. Some of the students said she only accepted the sponsor's position in the city because she'd run out of new places to explore."

"What's she like?" Tara asked.

"Oh, gods, where do I begin?" Willow replied. "She's…she has this sort of manner about her, it's like she knows everything. She doesn't go around spouting off knowledge like a walking library or anything, just… whatever's going on, or whatever's being talked about, no matter what it is, she's got this little smile, like she knows it already. She's kind of fun to be around, a lot more than most of the tutors anyway. Once she accepted me as her apprentice she'd take me all sorts of places, like the Zakarum city, and the villages far up the Argentek River - nothing to do with sorcery training, but she never explained her methods, just smiled and said 'it'll be fun'. I learned a whole lot without even realizing I was learning anything."

"She sounds a good teacher," Tara observed.

"Oh, yeah," Willow agreed, "the best. Earlier, when we were all learning together, it was all about the theory of magic, how spells are formed, practicing until we got it right…you know, the first three months I was with Ember, she never even tested me with spells? She'd just ask talk with me, about all sorts of things, like history and wildlife, and how the clouds moved, and what different kinds of rocks looked like…and, the funny thing, it wasn't just her telling me things, I'd always end up talking just as much as she did, and she'd always listen to me, like she was really interested, and never give me any indication I was babbling too much, or that she wanted me to keep quiet and learn."

"The other sponsors weren't like her?" Tara asked.

"Not exactly," Willow said, "it's pretty common for a sponsor and her apprentice to become good friends - I mean, you spend a fair chunk of your life as a trainee with them, I guess you either love 'em or hate 'em, and sponsors are always the love 'em kind. That's sort of a trainee joke," Willow chuckled, "we said that all the nice sorceresses become sponsors, and the ones that turn into crabby old bats become councilors. We never saw much of the sorceresses who actually run the Order, they were just these silent, stern-looking women who'd come by the training halls occasionally when we were practicing and glare at us as if we weren't trying hard enough. Anyway…but yeah, Ember was pretty special as a sponsor. She was a bit like a mother, and a bit like a sister - sometimes I'd go to her for help about one thing or another, and she'd listen to me and give me advice, and it was like she was older and wiser, and I was this young thing listening to her wisdom. In a good way, I mean, it was comforting…she could be someone I'd look up to. And then other times we'd be talking and laughing and, it was like we were on the same level. She's about forty, but she could seem so young. And yeah, some of the other girls were a bit jealous of me, getting her as my sponsor…they'd have to practice creating fireballs and chain lightnings and stuff, and I'd be practicing by making snowmen out of water, or we'd make little birds out of ice and fly them around the cloisters."

Willow's anecdotes about her training kept Tara entertained until both their plates were empty, and she offered to take them back into the inn. When she returned Tara was still outside the wagon, arms crossed, staring uneasily out across the town's main square. The gates on the other side, only their covered torches plainly visible through the rain, were closed. Tara could just make out a handful of figures moving slowly back and forth.

"Kert hasn't come in yet," Tara said quietly. "Shan just went out to go up into the tower and see if he can see him. Not much chance, in this weather."

"He's probably just running late," Willow said, "what with the heavy rain out to the west…" She put an arm around Tara's shoulders, and together they stood silently for a while, watching as Shan returned from the gate, shaking off his wet cloak once he reached the shelter of the wagon enclosure. He spoke with a young sergeant, Kert's second-in-command, then paced restlessly back and forth as the sergeant made his way towards the town sheriff's office.

Without any conscious intent, a small group of people formed near the wagons, sitting on stools around the warmth of a fire that had been started, staring silently into the flames, and occasionally glancing up at the closed gates, barely visible in the gloom across the square. Shan checked the view from the watchtower again, before giving up and returning to his pacing. Tryptin sat by the fire, staring off into the night. Gerrid drifted out from the inn to join them, his restless manner clearly showing his unease. Kert's sergeant, Grant, joined them, staring into the fire for the most part, every once in a while stoking it idly with a stick, or fetching a new log to keep it going against the night's cold. Melcan appeared with some drink, and bread still hot from the kitchen's oven, which was eaten in silence. Tryptin asked idly a while later if Tara had brought a Command set, and played a game against her, with Willow, Shan and Grant watching, though always glancing over their shoulder every now and then.

A short while later Gerrid asked if there was any chance of going out to look for Kert, but Grant said quietly that, between the dark and the rain, they might ride right past him without knowing, and carrying open flames ran the risk of attracting any animals prowling the night. A long silence fell, during which Gerrid stood at the edge of the enclosure, his cape keeping off the occasional gust of wind that blew some rain in, and Willow and Tara sat together on the tailboard of their wagon, close enough to have a view of the square but well out of the rain, both huddled in a blanket around their shoulders.

"Thank you," Tara said quietly, out of the silence.

"What for?" Willow asked.

"Just…being you," Tara said, glancing at Willow with the ghost of a smile. "Sitting up with me, without question, just because a soldier neither of us really knows is out there somewhere."

"I'm worried too," Willow said softly. "And hey, it's not like I could just leave you and go to sleep inside. You're here, so I'm here, and that's how it is. Wouldn't have it any other way." She gave Tara's shoulders a squeeze, getting a smile out of her, then with her free hand took Tara's, and rested her head on her shoulder, staring out with her into the night.

"When I was old enough," Tara said quietly, "Eponin told me about my parents. So I'd know what they died for, so I could sit memorial properly for them. I wasn't born on the islands, it was on the mainland. My mother and father were living in a town not far from the coast. There was still a lot of unrest, because of the Reckoning. Evil creatures, packs of demons and monsters, all through the mainland jungles. Not long after I was born a huge wave of them came down out of the mountains and swept through the jungle. My parents brought all the people from the town to the shore, got them onto boats, including me, and then they went back. My mother was a warrior, and my father was very strong, and very brave. Once I was safe they went back, them and two other Amazons, my aunt and another woman, to bring more people out, to get them from the villages around the town to the boats.

"All through the night the boats waited, and every now and then a group of people would reach the dock and board, and they'd tell the master of the boats that the Amazons were still out there, making it safe for more people to reach the road to the shore. They kept waiting as long as they could, even when they could see the jungle on fire on the horizon, this glow in the night sky. But then no more people came, and just before dawn creatures started coming from the edge of the jungle, trying to get across the docks and onto the boats. They fought them off for as long as they could, with longbows and crossbows, shooting them down as they tried to get across the dock, just…trying to wait one moment longer. But eventually there were too many, and the boats had to leave.

"And that was it," she finished. "They sailed to the islands, and I was taken in by Eponin's family." She shrugged, and Willow hugged her tighter.

"I-I'm sorry," Tara said, "I don't mean to be all depressing…"

"It's alright," Willow said, with absolute conviction. Tara nodded her thanks, and hugged Willow in return.

"Two hundred and thirty-seven people were on the boats," she said after a moment. "Ninety-two of them arrived after the first group, when the town was evacuated. Every year, I sit memorial for my parents. My aunt and her friend, too, but they have other loved ones who sit memorial for them. It's not a ceremony or anything, just on the day they gave their lives to save those people, I sit for a moment and remember what they did, and remind myself that I'm proud of them. Is it after midnight, do you think?"

"Definitely," Willow said, "at least an hour." Tara nodded, and gazed up at the sky, such as was visible through the rain.

"Mom, dad," she whispered, "thanks. I'm proud to be your daughter." She sniffed quietly, and Willow saw a single tear fall down her cheek. She reached up and tenderly brushed it away before resting her head back on Tara's shoulder.

"I love you," Tara said simply after a moment.

"I love you too," Willow replied. They both looked up as a shout echoed across the square from the gate. Gerrid hurried out into the rain with Grant, while Tryptin and Shan stood at the edge of the enclosure and watched. The town gates swung open a little way, enough to admit a man on horseback before they were closed again. Willow and Tara both recognized it as Kert, from his clothes and the gear on his horse, before he got under the shelter of the enclosure and dismounted, casting off his rain-soaked cloak. Gerrid was at his side talking quickly, while Grant followed a few paces behind him, waiting for orders. He spoke to Tryptin and Shan briefly before heading towards the inn, but as he went he caught sight of Willow and Tara sitting outside their wagon, and inclined his head with a brief smile. Tara nodded in return, and then he was gone, headed towards the warmth of the inn's kitchen, and Willow was stretching her legs off the tailboard.

"Come on," Tara said sleepily, "let's go to bed." She and Willow climbed into their wagon, undressed, and burrowed together underneath their blankets, quickly warming each other and their bed against the chill of the night. Willow snuggled back into Tara, and Tara stretched and curled herself around Willow, enfolding her in her embrace.

"Love you," she murmured, "goodnight."

"G'night," Willow yawned, "love you too."

Chapter 28

Willow poked her head through the flap in the wagon's rear and squinted in the sunlight, still rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

"Sorry to wake you," Tryptin said, standing outside and looking none too rested himself, "breakfast. We're setting off in half an hour or so, but we'll be stopping for lunch today."

"Thanks," Willow said, accepting the covered dish and flask Tryptin offered. He left, and she ducked back inside, putting the food and drink aside for the moment on top of one of the crates.

"Wassat?" Tara murmured from beneath the blankets.

"Breakfast," Willow said sleepily, crawling back under with her. She rolled over and nestled her back up against Tara, smiling and wriggling gently as Tara's arms went around her and pulled her close, her palms pressing into her stomach and waist.

"Should get up?" Tara asked with a yawn.

"No need just yet," Willow replied, "it'll keep a few minutes…and I don't know about you, but I don't really want to move just now."

"Good," Tara said, tightening her hold on Willow, who chuckled.

"Feels nice," she murmured, "I love the way you hold me… makes me feel safe…warm all over…"

"All over?" Tara asked silkily. "Or anywhere in particular?" One of her hands strayed up towards Willow's chest, while the other remained tight around her waist.

"Woke up frisky, did you?" Willow teased.

"And why wouldn't I," Tara countered, "when my sexy sorceress snuggles up against me…mmm…your legs are trembling…are you cold?" Tara whispered, right into Willow's ear, "I should keep you warm…" She slid her leg over the top of Willow's, pressing her thigh down on her legs and rubbing her calf against Willow's shins. The shudders running through her body had nothing to do with cold.

"Oh…sexy legs…" Willow murmured with a smile.

"You like my legs, baby?" Tara asked sweetly.

"Oh yes," Willow said, "I love them…strong and curvy…and soft…can't get enough of them…" Tara grinned and pulled her thigh up close to her chest, her leg draping over Willow's waist.

"There's that Amazon flexibility, too," Willow said appreciatively as she leaned down to kiss Tara's knee, both her hands running up and down her calf and back over her thigh, squeezing her muscles fondly. She laughed quietly to herself.

"What's that for?" Tara asked fondly.

"Oh, just thinking," Willow replied vaguely. "A couple of weeks ago I was sitting in this very wagon thinking that I'd have nothing to do on this trip except read…and now here I am, with the most perfectly beautiful woman in the world…quite literally wrapped around me," she added with a grin over her shoulder at Tara, "and feeling like I'm in paradise every moment."

"Two weeks," Tara mused, "feels like longer."

"Well, two weeks, two-and-a-half days," Willow clarified. "It does, doesn't it? I can think back to when I was in Kurast and it doesn't seem so long ago, but when I think about being without you…it seems like it's someone else's life I'm thinking of." She took hold of Tara's hand, which was hovering around the bottom of her breasts, and brought it to her lips, kissing the palm tenderly.

"I love you," she whispered, and Tara saw there were tears in her eyes. "I love you so much, I don't want to ever be without you…"

"You never will," Tara promised. "I swear to you Willow, on my honor as an Amazon, I will love you always." She stroked Willow's cheek affectionately. "You got me, and you're stuck with me," she added with a grin. Willow glanced over her shoulder, her yearning expression giving way to a smile which became a full-bodied laugh.

"Funny," Willow said, "from where I am, it looks like you've got me." Tara gave Willow's waist a squeeze.

"I have indeed," she said in a low murmur, "but the question is…what am I going to do with you?"

"Ooh, I know that tone of voice," Willow grinned.

"And what tone of voice is that?" Tara murmured.

"The one that says I'm about to get ravished," Willow gasped, as Tara's hands both reached for her breasts, fitting around them perfectly.

"Very observant of you," Tara whispered in her ear, as Willow moaned and writhed gently in her grip. "You like this, my sweet Willow?" she purred.

"Oh gods yes," Willow sighed.

"I know how much you like touching my breasts," Tara went on, squeezing Willow and rubbing her nipples between her fingers. "How you love feeling them…soft and warm in your hands…but it's my turn now…how does it make you feel, Willow? Tell me."

"H…hot," Willow gasped, "so hot…oh gods…"

"And…?" Tara prompted, gently giving Willow's nipples a particularly arousing pinch.

"Oh! Oh…gods…wet," Willow said, "wet…"

"Tell me," Tara whispered.

"I…I want you, soooo…much…" Willow managed between moans. "A-all the…time…but when you…touch me…oh…gods…it's too much, I can't…stop myself…I just want you, a-and…oh…need you…"

"I want you too, Willow," Tara murmured in her ear, "I need you too…"

"Oh gods," Willow whispered, "oh, touch me, please, please Tara…"

"I would," Tara said, "but I like where my hands are now… and I think you do too?" Willow moaned in response, as Tara flexed her fingers.

"Yesss," she hissed.

"Touch yourself, Willow," Tara breathed, "just…softly… and slowly. That's right," she urged, as Willow's hands crept tentatively down her body, "yes…just touch your lips…good…" Willow gasped involuntarily as she felt her own sex. Somehow, it was very, very much more than all the times she had touched herself before.

"Oh gods Tara," she whimpered, "how…?"

"Because I'm touching you," Tara replied softly, "it's not you doing this…I'm the one who decides that your fingertips are going to part your lips…aren't they?"

"Oh yes," Willow said, her hands complying without her even having to think about it.

"If I tell you to," Tara murmured, her tongue darting out to tease Willow's ear, "you'll keep yourself on the edge forever…aching, needing…until I let you come."

"Yes," Willow repeated.

"Move your fingers," Tara instructed, "up and down… gently…that's it…feel how wet you are. You're very wet, aren't you Willow? So very wet…and so desperate for release…that it would just take a touch, in the right place. Isn't that right?"

"Oh gods," Willow sighed, her fingers teasing her, completely beyond her conscious control. She felt as though they were truly Tara's hands on her sex, Tara's fingers stroking through her wetness. All the while, Tara was cupping her breasts, squeezing and stimulating, sending little shivers through her each time her fingertips closed on Willow's nipples and gently tugged them.

"Yes," Tara whispered, "just a touch…but not yet. First, let me taste you…" Willow brought a trembling hand to Tara's waiting mouth, her eyes following it in fascination all the way. Tara closed her lips around the offered fingers and stared at Willow as she sucked the juices from them.

"Divine," she whispered at last, releasing Willow's hand. "I think you're ready. Do you want me to make you come, my sweet Willow?"

"Yes, gods yes," Willow pleaded.

"Oh, yes," Tara purred, "you're definitely ready…touch yourself for me, Willow…part your lips…tease yourself…just the tips of your fingers…"

"Yours," Willow gasped.

"Yes," Tara smiled, delighted at how Willow was becoming absorbed in their play, "my fingers…teasing you…giving you just enough to whet your appetite…to wet your sex…you want more, don't you? You want me to go deep inside you…get ready, Willow…it's close now. Get ready…" Tara was breathing heavily, as Willow writhed in her embrace, every inch of their bodies pressed together and moving.

"Now," Tara breathed. Willow jolted almost out of her grasp as she plunged her two fingers into herself, her climax starting the instant her fingers reached their depth and her palm flattened against her clit. Tara held on tight, moaning as her own body responded to the way Willow thrust her hips, worked her legs, forced her breasts into Tara's hands, and tossed her head back, eyes closed, mouth open, gasping with release. She kissed along the back of Willow's neck, licked her earlobe, nuzzled into her hair, anything to convey her love as Willow slowly relaxed and settled back, almost entirely lying on top of her.

"Oh baby," Willow sighed, "oh…oh you are so wonderful…"

"I'm not sure how much credit I can take," Tara murmured, as Willow slowly rolled over to face her.

"Hmm?" Willow enquired.

"Well," Tara pointed out, "it wasn't my hands…apart from up here," she added, tickling the sides of Willow's breasts, pressed against her, before wrapping her arms around Willow's back and hugging her.

"I know," Willow grinned, "but then again, it kind of was, wasn't it? I mean, you told me what to do, a-and you know, I really felt as though it was you touching me, because…it's so much more, when it's you. Heh," she chuckled, "I don't think I'll ever be able to be satisfied masturbating again."

"Are you sure?" Tara said with a smile. "Even if I was there, and telling you how unbelievably aroused I was getting from watching you?"

"Oh, well," Willow conceded, wide-eyed, "that's different, of course…Gods, are all Amazon warriors as sexy as you?"

"I don't know," Tara said with a straight face, "maybe you could try some others sometime and find out?"

"Nah," Willow countered with a knowing smile, "why would I waste time even looking at anyone else when I've got you?"

"Mmm-hmm," Tara agreed, "right answer." Willow laughed.

"Keeping me on my toes, eh?" she said.

"They're such cute toes," Tara mused. Willow rolled off to lie beside her, stretching expansively.

"Breakfast's here," she said, "can I tempt you?"

"You could tempt me in your sleep," Tara replied, touching the tip of her nose to Willow's, which made her giggle as she sat up and reached for their meal. "What've we got?"

"Omelet," Willow said, lifting the cover off the dish, "not quite piping hot, of course…"

"Doesn't matter," Tara replied, sitting up, "I think the delay was well worth it."

"Absolutely," Willow concurred, passing Tara a robe and pulling her own around her shoulders to keep warm. Tara handed her a pair of lacquered wooden plates and mugs from her baggage and Willow divided up breakfast and poured Tara some fruit juice. As they were eating they heard Shan outside calling the caravan to order, and their wagon lurched into motion.

"Oops," Tara said with a grin, "we missed seeing a whole town."

"Yeah," Willow smiled, "what with one thing and another…who knows, maybe we'll come back this way some day? See what the place has to offer. Sorceresses are kind of expected to travel wherever they want, and Ember was definitely a mentor along those lines."

"Heh," Tara chuckled, then grew speculative. "I thought this journey was a special assignment?"

"It is," Willow explained, "but in any case, if I'd concluded my apprenticeship the normal way, the next stage would be to just up and travel for four years. You know, see the world, find out where we belong…I guess I got a head-start on that," she added with a wink at Tara, who blew her a kiss.

"And sometime during that four years, you work out what you want to do, and settle down to do it?" she asked.

"That's the idea," Willow agreed. "It wasn't always that way, of course…I mean, up until the end of the Reckoning, the life goal of a sorceress was to refine her battle magics as much as possible, and then pass on that skill to the next generation of sorceresses. Ever since the Order was established we've had Oracles who could see parts of the future. It's something that happens, very rarely, to lightning sorceresses. They can learn to sense the part of their energy that exists outside time, that sort of…powers time, moves it forward, from the outside. I'm not really sure how to explain it… well, no-one is, except the Oracles themselves. They tune their sight to that energy, instead of seeing the normal world – they're blind, always, once they become Oracles – and they can see things to come."

"Priestesses of Zerae sometimes get visions of the future," Tara said, "but nothing that specific. They're always…symbols, and feelings. They write them down, and then spend most of their time trying to work out what they mean. But I've heard people say that they're blind while they're having visions. It doesn't last, though, they can see again when it's over."

"It might be similar," Willow mused, "Zerae's your lightning goddess, so she would understand its power…perhaps she grants it to the priestesses briefly, when it's important. Oracles are tuned to timeless energy permanently, and lose their sight forever. I guess it's a sacrifice they're willing to make…not that it's crippling to them, of course, but…well, it must be a tough decision. How did I get onto Oracles?" she wondered aloud.

"The Reckoning?" Tara guessed.

"That was it. Yeah, ever since the Order was established, the Oracles we've had predicted that the Prime Evils would rise again, even though everyone thought they'd been defeated once and for all in the Sin War. They called it the Time of Emergence, because it would be the emergence of evil, and the time when we – sorceresses – would come out of hiding and fight the Prime Evils. Until then we'd always stayed remote, traveled in secret, and just about no-one in the outside world knew we existed as an order. So whatever servants the Evils had wouldn't know about us until we were ready to fight them."

"And now that it's over?" Tara asked.

"We're still working that out," Willow said, "mostly by following the Vizjerei methods. They're the closest of the other clans to us, most of the other clans sort of flipped a bit when we showed up during the Reckoning. They weren't sure what to make of us, and I guess we scared them a bit – well, the whole world was under threat from hell, and suddenly these women no-one's ever heard of show up, hurling meteors around, freezing whole tribes of demons in one blast, casting lightning strong enough to break open a boulder like it's nothing. It was probably a bit of a shock to them…um, no pun intended," she added as Tara rolled her eyes. "Anyway, during the Reckoning a lot of sorceresses ended up fighting alongside the Vizjerei, and when it was all over, I guess they reported back to their masters, and their clan accepted us pretty easily, when the others were still wary of us. And we adopted a lot of their ways, now that the Emergence was all over and done. I mean, there was no point anymore in secluding ourselves and training for a battle that's already finished and won, so we had to figure out how we were going to fit into the rest of the world."

"So, court mages?" Tara asked.

"Often," Willow agreed, "the Vizjerei are really the only clan to pay much attention to the Western Kingdoms and send their mages here, but there's never enough of them to go around, so there's lots of courts and rulers who want a mage on hand. A lot of the older sorceresses, those who haven't stayed with the Order as teachers or administrators, have settled down at courts all over Khanduras and Entsteig. Not so much Westmarch yet, seeing as it's the furthest away from Kurast, so, hey, I guess I'm one of the pioneers." She grinned.

"Is that what you'd like?" Tara asked. "Become a court mage?"

"Well, it goes without saying that I'm not settling down anywhere you're not happy being," Willow replied, earning an adoring smile from Tara. "There's a lot of other options, especially now that we're not just concentrating on battle magics. For generations the Order's goal was to be the best battle mages in history, so we perfected our control of the elements pretty much always with a view to using them to blow demons right back to hell. But elemental magic is much more than just firepower…or ice-power, or lightning-power or whatever. We've got the skill, the talent to wield massive amounts of elemental magic, now we're learning how much we can do with it. Apart from blowing things up. Lightning mages, even if they're not Oracles, can develop prescience and clairvoyance, plus there's telekinesis – that used to be just a battle skill, but now they're training to use it in all sorts of ways. Elemental fire has a lot of healing properties, not just battlefield stuff, but against diseases and so on. That's why we established the presence at the Hospice in Entsteig, to develop those skills, as well as make use of the library." She shrugged ruefully. "They've probably finished rebuilding it by now," she added. "And a talented cold mage can do all sorts of things besides just shielding herself and tossing icicles around. They say lightning is the most versatile element, but cold actually has a whole load of secondary effects that you can work with. Condensation, for example, drawing water out of the air – I could make it rain, as if we didn't have enough rain already. But anyway, there's all sorts of applications for our magic, and of course there's all the magical theory we know, aside from just elemental magic. Some sorceresses travel with big caravans, as advisors, or work with architects on construction. That dock we saw back at Kingsport, that was probably built with a Vizjerei mage's help, but a sorceress could do the same thing. Or just travel around researching magic and sending reports back to the Order every now and then. Lots of options."

"Any preferences?" Tara asked.

"You know, a while ago I didn't really think about it," Willow said with a grin, "but just lately, I've been thinking…after we're done traveling, of course, do you suppose the Amazon Nation could do with a resident sorceress?" Tara smiled, then leaned over and kissed Willow lightly on the lips.

"If that's what you want," she said softly, "I have it on very good authority that you'll get the highest recommendation."

"Thank you," Willow whispered.

"You're welcome, my love," Tara replied. "Besides, it's not just a matter of me doing anything to see that you're happy. You're a brilliant mage, you've got a wonderful mind, and I think the Queen's court would find you invaluable."

"Aw," Willow blushed, "now you're making me shy…Queen, huh? So I'm going to be a court mage after all. And among the Amazons, no less! Gods, the girls who trained with me are going to be so jealous. Especially if we ever meet any of them and they get a look at you," she added with a sly grin.

"Flattery will get you…well, kissed and cuddled as soon as we finish breakfast," Tara admitted with a smile. "You'd really like to live on the islands? It's a long way from your home…you know you don' t have to just for my sake."

"There's plenty I'd do just for your sake," Willow countered, "but I've thought about it seriously, aside from that. The way you talk about it, the way you get that ‘this is my home' smile…I know you want to go back there one day. And I can't think of anywhere I'd rather go. I never saw myself settling down with the Order, so…yes, it's really what I want. When you go home, I'll be at your side, and it'll be my home too."

"Willow?" Tara said softly.

"Yes?"

"Come here, my love." Tara pushed her plate aside, and as Willow came within reach she enfolded her in a warm, tender embrace and kissed her.

Tara looked around curiously as, outside, the order to halt was called down the length of the caravan, and their wagon slowed.

"Oh, I forgot," Willow said, "Tryptin mentioned we'd stop for lunch. I guess the road's safer from here on."

"Probably," Tara shrugged, "we're in Duncraig realm now, it's likely that bandits would prefer to work beyond the borders rather than within them. I don't know about these Carvers, though."

"They probably go wherever it seems most lawless," Willow mused, "they're dangerous to travelers, but a trained army would wipe them out pretty quickly. The ones that are left are probably the ones that preferred remote areas, even if they are less traveled than the roads within the larger realms."

"Well, whatever the reason, it's just as well," Tara said with a lop-sided grin, "the rain's stopped, I could use a bathroom break."

"You're not the only one," Willow replied, "chalk up one big disadvantage to living in a wagon. I'll go see what's for lunch first, meet you back here?"

"Okay," Tara agreed, pulling on her boots.

Willow gave Tara a quick kiss as they both jumped down to the ground, then they went their separate ways, Willow towards the supply wagon to see what was on offer. When she arrived, Kert and Tryptin were already there, in conversation.

"…probably a good choice," Kert was saying, "the roads were in a sorry state, especially from the crossroads up to the mountains. Hello, Miss Willow."

"Hello Kert," she replied.

"Good morning. Did you see any hostiles?" Tryptin asked, turning to Kert again.

"One band, far off on the first day. I rode around the back of them, but I think they were watching the road. Didn't seem to be too many of them, but in that rain, who knows? There may have been others. The ones I saw were small, rags for clothes – probably those Carvers you spoke of?" he asked Willow.

"Sounds like them," she agreed.

"All in all, best we avoided the mountains," Kert went on. "When I spoke with Master Gerrid last night, he said he'd have a word with the Duke about improving the roads up to Jesram. Maybe some soldiers, too, to see if they can't get rid of these creatures for good…" His voice faded away as Willow returned, parcels of food in hand, to the wagon, just in time to meet Tara returning from the edge of the forest across the road.

"My turn," Willow said, handing Tara the parcels. By the time she got back, Tara had unpacked them and was sitting on the tailboard of the wagon, just about to bite into a bread roll filled with cheese and tomato slices. She handed another to Willow before starting, and Willow relayed to her what Kert had been saying.

"Sounds like he's right," Tara said, "seeing as he wasn't in danger, it was best we didn't all take the detour. Even if the Carvers weren't around in great numbers, they could've caused some damage if they surprised us, especially in bad weather, and with the wagons moving slowly."

"All's well then," Willow concurred as they ate happily, enjoying the sunny calm the break in the rain was allowing.

"It's your turn," she said to Tara after a moment, "I've told you what I'm looking forward to, after all our travels are over and done with. So what's the most beautiful woman in the whole world going to be doing in five years' time?" Tara grinned at her.

"You'll be lying on a bed, with soft silk sheets," she purred, "writhing and moaning as I make love to you."

"And what I'll be moaning is how much I love you," Willow grinned. Tara smiled and bit her lip lightly, which was too adorable for Willow to resist leaning across and kissing her, brushing the tip of her tongue lightly across Tara's lips for an instant.

"Seriously," she said, "once we go home, to the Amazon Isles, what do you see yourself doing?" Tara smiled at Willow then leaned back, gazing thoughtfully into the sky.

"I occasionally wondered what I'd do, if I didn't join a warrior pride," she said. "I think perhaps, I'd become a priestess."

"There isn't a vow of celibacy attached to that, is there?" Willow asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Not in the slightest," Tara grinned. "I think…five years? I think I'll be a priestess…a priestess of Athulua. I've always felt closest to her. Apart from the priests and priestesses who maintain her temple in Tran Athulua, and the smaller temples in the other cities, her devotees live among the people. They…well, they listen to people, listen to their problems and worries, and try to help them, to give them good advice and guidance."

"Yeah," Willow agreed, "I can picture that. You're the most compassionate person I could imagine." Tara smiled her thanks.

"When I was a child," she went on, "sometimes I'd stay with Jenavria, Eponin's eldest daughter, when Eponin had to travel to one of the other cities. Before she married her husband, she lived in a little house on the eastern edge of the city…it's right up against the edge of the lakes, and it's the only place where Tran Athulua comes right down to ground level. The house is empty now, but still in Eponin's family…I'd like to live there with you. We'll get an architect and some builders and expand it into a proper home for both of us."

"Our home," Willow smiled, "wow…"

"I know," Tara agreed, "it's a lot to think about…and I know we're still newly in love, and we'll come to know each other a lot better as we travel. But I know at the end of it, we'll be in love just as much as now, if not more. I've never been more certain of anything in my life."

"I…" Willow started, "I…I can't think of anything to say but I love you, a-and I wish I could, I wish I knew some way to, to tell you what I'm feeling, because it's so wonderful…"

"You don't have to say anything," Tara replied with a smile, "I know. I…every time I look at you, or touch you, or even think of you, I know."

The caravan got underway again soon, and Willow and Tara passed the time leisurely as the train of wagons ambled along the road towards the night's camp site. Tara unpacked her bow, and Willow's, and both spent some time working bramble oil into the wood, talking aimlessly about sorceresses and Amazons, and all the things they might one day see and do. There was just enough light, when the caravan halted, for them to bathe quickly in a nearby stream. With a rock wall some twenty feet high on one side of the stream, and a clump of trees on the other, they were secluded enough from the activity of the caravan, within easy earshot if they had some reason to call out, but with enough privacy that, after a glance over her shoulder to confirm that no-one else could see, Tara slipped her robe off her shoulders and strode naked into the stream.

"Join me?" she asked in a low voice. Willow, eyes riveted on Tara, quickly divested herself of her own robe and stood in front of Tara, her arms around her waist.

"What if someone sees?" she asked half-heartedly.

"No-one will," Tara replied with a serene smile, "they know we're here, and they won't risk offending the ladies by coming to the stream until we're done. I think we can afford a moment or two for…whatever we want." Her smile turned seductive, and Willow grinned in reply.

"So…" she murmured, "what do you want?" Her hands moved down Tara's back, cupping her bottom and squeezing playfully.

"Mmm," Tara purred, "well…I think, I want you to make love to me."

"Here?" Willow asked, caught between discretion and desire.

"Right here," Tara said, "right now."

"Well then," Willow grinned, "how can I refuse?" Tara draped her arms over Willow's shoulders, leaving her body quite unprotected as Willow wrapped one arm around her waist, and her other hand traces a path around her hips towards her center.

"Yes," Tara moaned as Willow's fingers brushed through her curls, "yes…just you and me…nothing else in the world." Willow kissed her deeply, as her fingertips touched her wetness, and poised themselves at the entrance to her sex.

"Ready?" she whispered, her lips still touching Tara's.

"Always," Tara whispered, "always, my love, every moment I exist, I'm yours."

"I love you, my Tara," Willow whispered in reply, as she gently thrust two fingers into her, catching her lips in a kiss as Tara's hips shuddered down against her hand, and her eyes fluttered closed in bliss. She knew they couldn't afford to spend too much time indulging their desires, in the middle of the countryside no less. Her thumb stroked across Tara's clit, not quite pressing as hard as she might, but nonetheless urging her towards a climax that would not be long coming. Her fingers inside Tara's warmth found the special spot that made her moan and quiver, and touched it with every thrust. At the last, Willow buried her fingers in her lover's sex, her fingertips stroking back and forth as her thumb worked on her clit, and she held Tara's waist in a firm hug, their bodies pressed tightly together, as she moaned with her orgasm. A second later Tara's mouth found hers, and they kissed for a long, long moment, both completely open to the other's advances, as their tongues danced in the blissful aftermath of their greater pleasures.

Afterwards, neither of them said anything – Tara's sensual smile, and Willow's gleeful grin, spoke all the words they needed. They quickly washed and retrieved their robes from the edge of the stream, and, with matching grins of a shared moment away from the rest of the world, returned to their wagon for dinner.

Later, naked and cocooned in warm blankets and the warmer contentment of each other's arms, Willow lay beside Tara, one arm around her waist, her head cushioned on her chest. Tara looked down at Willow's adoring gaze, and stroked her hair gently.

"In five years," she said quietly, "the sunlight will come streaming in through the windows of our bedroom, and we'll wake up, with you cuddled in my arms, like this." She rolled onto her side, and Willow nestled up against her, smiling blissfully as Tara's arm went around her, holding her.

"We'll wake up," Tara went on, kissing Willow's hair lightly, "and I'll kiss you, and tell you how much I love you, every single day. We'll get up and go out to the lake, which will be right up next to the house, and we'll bathe and play in the morning light. We'll dry each other off and have breakfast, and then you'll go off to the Queen's court to meet whoever you're meeting that day, or to study in one of the libraries. I'll have a place near the palace where people can find me if they need my help, so at lunch I'll come and meet you, and we'll eat in the gardens, and laugh and I'll stroke your hair like this, and…well, there are a few spots in the palace gardens that are pretty secluded," she said with a grin, teasingly licking Willow's earlobe.

"Once we're done having lunch, of whatever we get up to, you'll go back to the court, and I'll go back to being a priestess, and in the afternoon we'll meet up again, and go to the market, or take a walk in the forest below, or meet some friends. We'll go back home in time to watch the sunset, lying together in a chair on the balcony. Then I'll help out while you cook a delicious dinner, and we'll eat in front of a great big fire in the hearth. And then, we'll go to bed, and make love, and eventually we'll fall asleep, cuddled together. And I'll thank all the heavens that my time in this world is spent with such a goddess as you." Tara kissed Willow on the back of her neck, then frowned as she heard Willow stifle a sob.

"Willow?" she asked.

"I'm-" Willow choked back. She rolled over, and Tara saw, through the tears on her cheeks, the most beautiful smile she had ever seen.

"That's so beautiful," she tried again, "I…gods, how could I deserve something so wonderful?"

"Do you trust me?" Tara asked gently.

"Completely," Willow replied without hesitation.

"Then trust me to know that you deserve every happiness I can give you," Tara said. Willow nodded, and smiled up at Tara.

"I do," she said, "I don't know how, but I do…oh gods, Tara, you are…the most beautiful, lovely, wonderful, heavenly, divine…I love you. I love you, I love you I love you I love you…"

"And I love you," Tara whispered, "with all my heart, with everything that I am and everything I will ever be. I love you, Willow. And we'll have our home together one day."

"Yeah," Willow agreed, "and you'll always be my home. Now and forever."

"Now and forever," Tara echoed.

Chapter 29

Chapter 31

Tara awoke to Willow kissing her, the tip of her tongue gently brushing her lips. Her first thought was to respond in kind, and she did, opening her mouth and accepting Willow's kiss with a playful swirl of her own tongue. Even when she remembered with a twinge of disappointment where they were, she had to admit it was one of the best ways to wake up she could think of. Certainly the only viable one to use in the middle of potentially hostile territory.

"Morning, love," she mumbled, stretching briefly then wriggling out of her bedroll. Willow gave her another kiss, just a quick one, then together they set about rolling up the sleeping bag and blankets so they would fit back into Tara's pack. She noticed Willow seemed ill at ease, speaking little, her face slipping into the beginnings of a frown now and then, when she seemed not to be concentrating. Whenever she saw Tara glance at her, she favored her with a warm smile, and Tara put it down to anxiety over their uncertain path back to safety. She wondered briefly whether to try to talk to Willow about it, pondering a few ways of bringing the subject up, and trying to ease her concerns, but ultimately decided that it could wait at least until they had got a start on the day's journey. Already the sun, which had been a mere glow on the horizon when Tara had awoken, was high enough to cast real daylight across the land.

As it turned out, finding a way to approach the topic proved unnecessary. As soon as Tara had taken their bearings and decided on a path to follow, Willow, walking by her side and carrying the three quivers of arrows slung over her shoulder so as to spread the load of their possessions, began to lay out her concerns.

"I was thinking, during the night," she explained, "you know, about the demons, and everything that happened. I'm not sure…I mean, I could be imagining things, well, I really hope I am, actually, but I don't think so, and anyway, you should know, because it affects you too, you being out here with me and all-"

"Willow?" Tara prompted gently, smiling despite herself at Willow's nervous babble.

"Right," Willow grinned sheepishly, "concise, got it. Okay, the thing is…I think maybe they were after us. Well, me. Specifically me." Tara stopped in her tracks and turned to Willow, who shrugged with a helpless half-grin and took her hand, nodding ahead to indicate they should keep moving.

"W-why do you think that?" Tara asked, as they continued on their way. Even as she asked, she admitted to herself that it might be possible – Willow knew these kinds of things better than she did, unquestionably, and the sudden appearance of the monstrous creatures had brought to mind Hydris's attempted attack in the court room. One moment all had seemed peaceful, the next hell was reaching out for them. But Tara didn't want to believe it, and it took some effort of will to acknowledge the possibility, rather than dismissing out of hand that foul, evil creatures were consciously working to take her Willow from her.

"It fits the facts," Willow explained with a frown, "unfortunately. Did you see any of the goat-men attack anyone else?" Tara frowned herself, then shook her head. "Me neither," Willow went on, "I couldn't see much of the caravan, but it sounded like there was a pitched battle going on between the Carvers and the guards. But the goat-men all ignored that, and went for us."

"Maybe they saw us as the greater threat?" Tara asked. "I mean, we kind of, well, annihilated the Carvers that went for us."

"I'm not sure," Willow said, "so far as I know, goat-men have worse vision than a human, I don't think they could have seen us through the dust, before we saw them. And by the time we'd seen them, the Carvers were panicking, and neither of us were attacking them. We would've just looked like a couple of young women at the side of the road. Okay, young women with a bunch of demonic corpses at our feet, but from what I've read about goat-men they're not big thinkers. They're basically in it for the violence, and I think they would have gone for the battle. Maybe a couple would take a swing at us, but not all of them."

"I see what you mean," Tara agreed reluctantly, "and they certainly wouldn't have all followed us when we ran."

"Well, again, maybe a couple would," Willow allowed, "they're kind of bloody-minded, but yeah, not all of them. And between you and me, I'm the only one who's pissed off a major demon."

"That settles the why," Tara concurred grimly, "she's holding a grudge?"

"Undoubtedly," Willow nodded, "demons aren't exactly the forgiving type. And for them, being summoned is like all their dreams coming true. If they dream, I'm not sure on that. A demon like Shadai would get maybe one chance in a thousand years, if that, to find a mage who's powerful enough to summon her, and insane enough to want to. So, put yourself in her spiky cloven hooves: you've been imprisoned in hell since the Sin Wars, when you finally get a chance to return to the mortal realm, full of humans to be unpleasant to, and with very few mages strong enough to threaten you. And the moment you get there, this little girl of a sorceress pops a banishing spell on you which, dumb idea though it was," she admitted with a rueful grin, "keeps you busy just long enough for a bunch of really powerful sorceresses to show up and blast you back to hell. Plus you're a demon, and therefore full of every negative impulse and personality trait in existence, with none of the positives. How do you feel?"

"She's holding a grudge," Tara said.

"That's one way of putting it," Willow agreed. "And I'm starting to think, maybe instead of just moping around hell, she's sort of fixated on getting back at me. Maybe the others, too – Ember, Cyan, Symphony, Prospera, they were all there, they were the ones who destroyed Shadai's form, weakened her enough that my banishing spell worked. We have to warn them, I have to send a message back to the Order as soon as we get out of this."

"We will," Tara said reassuringly. "I'm sure they're okay, the way you describe them they're all powerful sorceresses."

"They are," Willow nodded, "some of the best."

"Well, if the best Shadai can do to us is chase us with goat-men, they're probably not going to get into any danger they can't get out of. We'll send a letter as soon as we reach Kotram, give it to a rider going back to Kingsport, or to Duncraig, whichever is quicker."

"Right," Willow agreed, "okay. Okay, that'll work. You're right, they'll be okay, a-and if anything happens they'll probably be able to figure it out themselves anyway…"

"Okay," Tara said, giving Willow's hand a squeeze. "What about the goat-men?"

"I don't know," Willow admitted, "somehow she's influencing them, it's the only explanation that makes sense…but she can't be, even a demon as powerful as she is can't project her will out of hell without someone actively helping on this end, doing a ritual to contact her."

"Goat-men can't do that?" Tara asked. Willow shook her head.

"Too dumb. They can barely tell humans from other demons – you saw what they did to those Carvers. They probably didn't even realize they were on the same side. Well, as much as demons ever cooperate."

"Are there demons that can do those kind of spells?"

"Some," Willow said thoughtfully. "I've read accounts in the Order libraries from sorceresses who've seen liches and ghoul lords practice demonic magic to communicate with their masters in hell. And, yeah, some of them were supposed to have goat-men as their slaves, sort of their personal fighters, 'cause ghoul lords are physically pretty fragile…"

"That must be it," Tara concluded, "if they were trying to get to you, then there must be one of these ghoul lords, or some other kind of demon like them, controlling them."

"I can't think of any other explanation," Willow said. "Of course, that doesn't mean there isn't one, just that I can't think of it. But yeah, that's probably it."

"It doesn't change our plan, though?" Tara asked. "We get to Kotram, then rejoin the caravan as soon as a rider shows up."

"Yeah," Willow said hesitantly, "but…it means that-"

"What?" Tara asked, as Willow shook her head and took a breath to try to steady herself. Willow stopped abruptly and looked around, as if she couldn't meet Tara's gaze.

"It means I'm putting you in danger," she said angrily. "You weren't at the hospice, but now there's demons chasing after you, a-and mages trying to kill you, and, and gods know what else! Just because you're with me. I mean…" she stopped, gulped down a breath of air, and lifted her hand to lightly touch the bandage on Tara's arm.

"This is my fault," she said quietly. Tara immediately gathered Willow in her arms, and held her as her tears started to flow.

"Shh," she soothed Willow, as her body shook with sobs, "it's not your fault, Willow, it's not. These are evil creatures, Willow, and you're, you're not one of them, you're good, you're the most wonderful thing in the world, and you can't blame yourself for what they do."

"But they hurt you," Willow said in a tiny, pleading voice, "because of me…"

"They tried to hurt you," Tara said, "I will never let that happen, Willow, not if there's anything I can do to stop it. I'm okay, and you're not hurt, and we'll get through this together, okay?" Willow clung to her, her sobs becoming quieter, but not entirely gone. Tara took her head in her hands, lifting her so she could see her face, and wipe the tears from Willow's cheeks with her thumbs.

"I can't leave you," she said, "I can't, and I won't. I will stay by your side Willow, always, there's simply no other choice for me to make, and no other choice I would make even if I could. Okay?" Willow nodded, tears still shining in her eyes. Tara leaned forward and kissed her, very gently.

"Okay?" she asked again, softly.

"Okay," Willow said. They let go of each other, keeping their hands held, and continued on their way along the outskirts of the wood, towards the rise ahead.

"I know you feel this is something that's your problem, not mine," Tara said gently, "but it's not. If these creatures, and Shadai, threaten you, then they're threatening me too. You're mine, Willow, just like I'm yours. That's…you're the most perfect, beautiful part of my life, and I won't let anything take you away from me. What would you do, if demons were hunting me?" Willow nodded her understanding.

"Freeze them so hard they'll take centuries to melt in the hellfire," she said firmly.

"That's my sorceress," Tara grinned.

"Thank you," Willow said sincerely, "thank you for…gods, for being you, for being amazing."

"All yours," Tara said, "and more. You're welcome. Come on," she added, quickening her pace, "are you okay for a bit more speed?"

"Ready when you are," Willow grinned.

"If you're right about the demons, they'll definitely be looking for us. Do goat-men sleep?"

"Um, I think so. Yes, definitely, I read once about them sleeping underground whenever they can. I'm not sure for how long, though."

"Well, we've probably still got a decent lead on them," Tara went on, "and like I said yesterday, they'll have to go carefully or risk going past us without noticing, so that gives us the edge. With luck, we'll reach Kotram tomorrow, before they get anywhere near us again."

"Lead the way," Willow nodded, and the pair set off at a brisk walk.

The walk up the rise was tiring, if not particularly difficult to persevere with, and more than once Willow envied Tara, who didn't seem to be feeling the exertion at all. She spent some time in admiration of Tara's legs, noting her strong, elegant muscles and the light sheen of sweat that built as they neared the top, but eventually her curiosity got the better of her.

"Do you do a lot of walking normally?" she wondered out loud.

"At times," Tara said lightly, "in training, of course, but sometimes I just go walking in the forest. Amazons have to be able to keep up on long marches, of course, we don't have lots of horses so if for some reason, for example, we had to send a group of prides from Tran Athulua to the coast, to repel invaders or board a fleet for one of the other islands, it'd be on foot. One of the final training stages includes a march from the city all the way to the eastern shore, along the old forest tracks. Each girl starts one day ahead of the next, and we have twenty-five days to make the journey, surviving just on what we can carry, and what the forest provides."

"How far is that?"

"Here to Kingsport, roughly," Tara guessed.

"Wow," Willow murmured, the path up the rise suddenly put in perspective for her. "And you did that on your own?"

"Yep," Tara said, "twenty-three days, plus an hour or so on the next day. I could've jogged the last part in the evening of the last day, but there wasn't any need to hurry."

"So this is just a stroll for you in comparison," Willow grinned.

"Physically? It's not that hard," Tara allowed, "but it's not the same. There I was at home, I knew the forest, there were no dangers I didn't know about, and in the unlikely event of something happening, there were instructors tracking us all the way. Here…the land is unfamiliar, I'm still getting used to the feel of it, and getting an idea for how to live off it, if need be."

"How's that?" Willow asked.

"Just observing," Tara explained, "seeing where the edible plants are, how frequently they grow along our path, how many we can expect up ahead if we need them. What kinds of animals are around, what sort of camp site we need to find to be secure…whether we'll have good weather or bad, how much warning there'll be if a storm comes." She offered Willow a smile, and squeezed her hand warmly. "At least I still have my home with me."

"Aw, and now I just have to kiss you," Willow said, stopping briefly to press a kiss against Tara's lips. They continued up the rise arm-in-arm, smiling.

"And what do your Amazon senses tell you about the land now?" Willow asked.

"There's more useful plants than I thought at first," Tara mused, "probably as the ground gets less rocky towards the river we'll find more. Could be a reprieve for the rabbits, even if we do have to supplement our rations."

"Well that's good," Willow agreed.

"I'm starting to get a feel for the woods, as well," Tara went on, "the trees, the plants beneath them, the animals sheltering there, it's different to those on the islands, but in a way it's similar as well. Like sisters, each their own, but like each other."

"No kidding," Willow said, fascinated with how Tara saw an environment that, up until now, she herself had considered scenery between cities.

"It's something I've thought about before," Tara explained, "it was actually when I was doing my training march that I got the idea. Something…well, odd, happened, and it got me thinking."

"What was that?"

"Well," Tara recounted, "it was on the eighteenth day, I was in the deepest part of the forest, the eastern basin between the city plateau and the hills by the coast. It's probably the oldest part of the forest on Philios, and the only area apart from some wild lands in the north that's actually dangerous – not for a trained warrior," she hastened to reassure Willow, "but for someone who couldn't track and defend themselves, there are some animals that defend their territory aggressively, and it could be easy to stray near their nests or dens and make them think they were threatened. That didn't happen, though, I saw signs of a couple of nests but stayed clear of them.

"Anyway, I was walking along, just sort of letting my senses guide me – I knew I was making good time, and didn't have to hurry – and I suddenly felt like I was being watched. And when an Amazon feels like that, it means she is being watched, after enough training you can sort of feel a…a parallel, I suppose, in the tiny reactions of whatever's watching you. In tiny little ways – breathing, small motions, tension – when you watch someone, you react to them. Well, I felt something nearby reacting to me, to my motions. But it didn't feel threatening, just…curious? It's a sense I can't really explain, maybe it's just a development of tracking skills, but I could feel a faint echo, or something like that. It wasn't afraid of me, or hostile in any way, it was just watching me to see what I was. And after a while, it was sort of…satisfied, I guess, and it blended in with the forest until it wasn't there any more."

"What was it?" Willow asked. "Did you ever find out?"

"Not for sure," Tara replied, "I never felt it again, and I never saw anything. I think, though, maybe it was a bramble hulk."

"Really?" Willow was surprised. "I thought you said they were only on Lycander."

"They are," Tara said with a shrug, "so far as anyone knows. At least, there's a part of Lycander, the deep forest there, that we leave pretty much alone, apart from veteran warriors who're welcome there, and conduct all the trade between us and them. But from the way that hulks are described, what I sensed felt like one of them. It was like the forest, but slightly more…focused, more alert. Like the difference between a normal person and a warrior, which I guess they are. Guardians of the forest, that's what they're supposed to be."

"So there might be one on Philios as well?" Willow wondered.

"Actually," Tara said, "a while later I found something that made me think back on that, and that maybe explains it. There's some legends – really old ones – that say when a bramble hulk is in danger, it can become part of the forest, just merge completely with the big, old trees. Its bark becomes the tree's bark, its blood becomes their sap, and its spirit…I guess its spirit is always part of the forest anyway. And they can re-emerge in different places, because the forest is all one thing."

"Like, it could go into one tree and come out of another?"

"That's what the legends say," Tara said, "and in a way it makes sense. Like I said, a forest is one thing, more than just a collection of individual trees. The whole forest, all the trees and plants and even the animals to an extent, all grow and feed and wither and die together, not individually. If one tree is hurt, it affects the whole forest, and if part of the forest is strong, it can spread and make the whole forest strong. So there's all these links between the individual living things, as if in spirit they're all one living thing. I suppose hulks can move through the whole forest because of that. And I was wondering, what if it's not just true of one forest?"

"But Lycander's an island," Willow pointed out, "there's, what, how many miles of ocean between it and Philios?"

"But the living forest isn't completely isolated," Tara observed, "the streams that flow through it flow into the ocean, and the plants on the shores, mangroves and so on, drink those waters, and there are tides that move between all three islands. And the smaller plants, flowers and those sorts of things, some of them spread their seeds on the wind, and they could be carried from one island to another. Not the big trees, of course, it's pretty difficult to fly an acorn across fifty miles of ocean…unless it falls in the water, and floats…maybe even that's possible, once in a while, perhaps. And of course it's all very slow, and mostly they're isolated from each other, but…"

"I get it," Willow completed her thought, "forests are slow things naturally, like…if you measured a person by heartbeats, the equivalent for forests would be years, the seasons coming and going."

"Exactly," Tara went on, "and in something that slow, and… and massive, all those little points of contact between one forest and another could build a sort of bond between them. And maybe the hulks can move through those as well."

"So the bramble hulks think you're satisfactory?" Willow concluded. "Well, I can agree with that sentiment…even if I'd use stronger terms." Tara smiled.

"Thanks," she murmured, "and yeah, when I wondered if that's what it was, it was kind of…pleasing. I like the forest, I like the living world, so it's nice to know that, I guess, it likes me as well." She started to say something else, but stumbled.

"Hey, whoa," Willow exclaimed, clutching Tara's arm to steady her, "are you okay? What's wrong?"

"I don't know," Tara said, frowning, "I just felt kind of faint for a moment…like I'd just stood up too fast, you know?" She shook her head. "It's passing now, it was just…" Her frown deepened, and as one she and Willow looked at the bandage on her arm.

"Does it hurt?" Willow asked, as Tara started unwrapping it.

"No," Tara said, stopping for a moment to prod the bandage, "actually it's a bit numb…I changed it last night, I didn't feel anything wrong, but it was dark…" She finished removing the bandage, and Willow let out a little gasp. The cuts in her arm seemed to be clean, with no sign of infection in the wounds, but the skin around them was tinged with gray.

"That's not good," Tara said distantly. Willow tentatively touched a fingertip to the discolored skin, looking for any sign from Tara that it hurt.

"Feels cold," she said with a frown. She guided Tara to a rock to sit on, and unfastened the pouch on her hip.

"What're you doing?"

"I remember Ember saying something about cold skin once," she explained, producing the journal, "she was talking about cold magic mainly, about making your skin cold – you know, like I did with my tongue that time – but she said something about it being like you'd had a run-in with a zombie. At the time I didn't think to ask…" She lapsed into silence for a moment, turning the pages and scanning through them with impressive speed, her lips silently framing unfamiliar words as she did so.

"Here," she said at last, "here it is, 'undead have been known to cause a sickness, the grave's touch, especially those who died recently' – well, that fits, that poor man hadn't been dead sixty seconds. Let me see, open wounds, skeletons, herbs, ah! Oh no…'if untreated, the grave's touch will proceed through the body over the course of approximately two weeks, aided by cold and hindered by warmth, until it reaches the brain, where," her voice dropped to a choked whisper, "it will end in death." She held her breath, reading furiously, her other hand tight around Tara's.

"Come on, come on, please please please," she muttered to herself, "yes! Yes, here, treatable by healing potions of Kurast manufacture," she looked up at Tara, with desperate excitement in her eyes, "I've got those! I've got two, this says you only need one!" She fumbled at the tiny leather cylinders on her belt, opening one and producing a slim vial filled with ruby red liquid, which she handed to Tara.

"I just drink it?" Tara asked. Willow nodded.

"It only takes a few seconds to work," she said quickly, "they're designed to be used in battle if need be, so they can't afford to take too long to work, only," a frown crossed her face, and she hugged Tara around the waist, "only, when it works, it's going to hurt."

"How much?" Tara asked with a deep, steadying breath. Willow looked almost as distressed as she had been a moment ago.

"A lot," she said, "it's…the way it works is partly by nullifying toxins and poisons, but also by magically accelerating the body's own healing. So it can repair cuts and so on, even broken bones if they're set first-" She halted herself before she could start to babble aimlessly. "All the healing that would normally take, oh, weeks or so, happens in a few seconds, but all the soreness, a-and the little twinges of pain and aches and stuff you'd get while you were healing, all that is compressed as well. The alchemists are always talking about figuring out how to do one without the other, but no-one's got it yet…" she trailed off miserably.

"Oh well," Tara said, with a resigned shrug, "a-at least it kind of fits in with the whole balance concept." She gave Willow a weak smile, which Willow returned. "Do one thing for me?" she asked, in a quieter, more serious voice.

"Anything," Willow said.

"Hold me."

"Oh gods, always," Willow said at once. Tara nodded, kissed Willow tenderly on the forehead, then pulled out the tiny stopper in the vial.

"Wait," Willow said, fumbling with her belt. She undid it and slid off the empty potion cylinder.

"Um, maybe," she said, offering it to Tara, "if it hurts too much…maybe bite down on this?" She cringed as she said it.

"Thank you," Tara said gently. She held the cylinder in one hand, the vial in the other. Carefully she leant into Willow's embrace, her arms around Willow's back. In a swift motion she tipped the contents of the vial into her mouth and swallowed, then steeled herself against the expected pain, ready to bite down on the leather if need be, and hoping she could weather the worst of it without crying out or clutching too hard, or anything that would upset Willow more.

The liquid tasted faintly of apples, and though it wasn't cold at all, it sent a chill through Tara as she swallowed, like ice water. She closed her eyes and concentrated on breathing, slow in, slow out…and then, a twinge of pain shot through her arm, and another, and suddenly it was burning hot as if she'd plunged it into the molten steel of a forge. There was no dizziness or nausea, which she was just aware enough to be thankful for, but the pain itself was the most intense she had ever felt. For a moment it felt as if the heat had got into her blood, that white-hot metal was flowing through her veins, through her whole body – she bit down hard, then opened her mouth to scream, the cylinder falling to the ground, but she stopped herself by force of will, allowing nothing but a tiny whimper to escape.

Then it was over, and she was panting, sweating, clinging to Willow like the last survivor of a shipwreck, tossed on the ocean and clutching at driftwood for her life's sake. The sudden cessation of the pain left her confused, and it took a moment for her to realize Willow was whispering fiercely into her ear.

"-gonna be alright baby, I promise, you're gonna be fine, I'm so sorry, gods I'm sorry, I'll protect you, I'll make it okay, I'm so sorry…"

"Willow," Tara said, surprising herself with the sound of her own voice – she had expected a weak whisper, but her voice was strong and level. Willow paused, and Tara searched for something to say to reassure her, to stop her blaming herself. And then she realized:

"You saved me," she said, kissing Willow's neck, hugging her warmly.

"I wha?" Willow asked as Tara pulled back just enough to look at her.

"You did," Tara said, "I'd never have known what to do on my own, and I wouldn't have had any potions. You saved my life."

"I…" Willow hesitated, pausing as if to test the unfamiliar idea. "Well, okay," she said dismissively after a moment, "but it's not like it was me, technically…I mean, I just had the potion on me, and I had to look it up to know what was wrong…anyone could've done that."

"But you did," Tara smiled. She leaned forward again and kissed Willow firmly, and the vigor with which she opened Willow's lips and explored inside her mouth seemed to be heartening for both of them.

"Um…" Willow said with a bemused smile once Tara released her lips, "so…you're feeling okay?" Tara stretched, keeping an arm around Willow, now for comfort rather than support.

"Actually, I feel great," she said. "I feel…refreshed, relaxed…like I just woke up."

"Oh," Willow nodded, "oh, well, good. Good. You're okay," she added to herself, and lunged forward to return Tara's kiss, this time seeking, and gaining, admittance to Tara's mouth and taking her time enjoying it.

"You're okay," she repeated, leaning back. "It's all good. Yay!" Tara smiled, and quickly touched the tip of her nose to Willow's.

"And you're adorable," she grinned.

"I'm relieved," Willow explained.

"And adorable," Tara pointed out. She stretched her arm and looked at it. "Hey," she said, surprised, "all better." Willow nodded and ran her fingers down Tara's arm, which was perfectly healed, without a trace of the cuts that had been there moments earlier, or the discolored skin around them.

"That's the idea," she said. Tara stood up and offered her hand to Willow.

"Shall we go?" Willow took her hand, stood up, and looped her arm around Tara's.

"Certainly," she replied with a smile. "Oh, wait, let me get that…" She quickly gathered up the fallen potion pouch and replaced it on her belt, then went to put the journal back, but reconsidered and kept it in her hand.

"Going to do some reading?" Tara asked as they set off again.

"Can't hurt," Willow said, using her thumb to flip the pages of the small book over as she held it one-handed. "Actually I want to see if there's anything about Carvers controlling human undead, I got the impression from what I remember that they only resurrect their own…maybe we can get a better idea of whatever's controlling the goat-men." Tara smiled, spreading her senses around her once again, but otherwise just enjoying being with Willow, and listening to her absent-minded narration as she read.

"Lemme see…undead…come on, it's got to be around here somewhere… one of these days I'm going to go through this book and write up an index or something. Could be a ghoul lord…I mean, undead are their thing, hence the name, lords of ghouls…that's a kind of zombie, they're a bit more energetic than the everyday sort, takes more concentrated necromantic magic to raise them, I think…never really paid that much attention to necromancy, I mean, undead aren't like demons, it's usually easier to just ice them than try to counter the magic animating them…icky stuff anyway…" Tara stole occasional glances at Willow, biting her lip at the cuteness of the intense expression of concentration on her face, and together they walked on.

It was almost midday when they reached the crest of the rise and looked out across the Kingsway valley. In the far distance, visible only as a glitter of reflected sunlight, the river peeked through the small hills surrounding it. Nearer, beyond another large ridge perhaps two dozen miles away, a brown-brown blob surrounded by patches of uniform color suggested a town and its fields.

"That must be it," Willow observed.

"It's in the right place," Tara said, "and as large as the map showed it. Stone buildings on the central hill, with smaller wooden buildings lower down. A keep and surrounding villages, I guess."

"You can see that?" Willow asked. "I can only just make out that it's there at all."

"Amazon eyesight," Tara replied with a grin.

"Ah, so those gorgeous blue eyes of yours aren't just decorative," Willow said, nodding to herself. Tara's hand, around her waist, snuck lower to swat her on the bottom.

"Come on, my cheeky sorceress," she said, taking Willow's hand again, "we've still got a lot of ground to cover. I think maybe…wait a moment."

"What?" Willow asked, as Tara changed direction slightly, kneeling down to examine the ground after a few paces.

"Something's walked here," she said as Willow knelt beside her, "lots of people." Willow looked either way along the top of the rise.

"Doesn't look like a trail," she observed.

"No, not people," Tara frowned, "clawed feet, there's indentations in the dirt…if that rain we had passed over here at all, maybe…ten days, two weeks ago."

"Carvers?"

"They're the right size," Tara sighed, "it could've been a band of them. Moving at night, they wouldn't have worried about being seen, so they kept to the ridge…" She peered off into the distance, northward where the rise curled around to the west. "I wonder if it was the band that attacked the caravan?"

"They can't have known we were coming," Willow said, "ten days ago we hadn't even set out from the castle."

"I suppose something comes along the road sooner or later," Tara mused. "I don't see any other tracks, nothing more recent certainly… well, no matter then." She stood up and inspected the terrain ahead of them, absently fishing a pair of wrapped rations from the satchel slung over her shoulder.

"We should try to reach the foot of that next rise by evening," she said, handing one to Willow, "it looks like there might be a stream, maybe even a building. Something wooden, I don't think it's trees…" Willow peered where Tara was looking, which was obscured by distance and haze.

"I'll have to take your word for it," she said with a grin, "that's pretty impressive."

"It's just a vague shape," Tara shrugged, "maybe a hunting cabin or something like that. But if it looks safe, I wouldn't say no to having a roof over our heads for our last night out in the wilderness. You?"

"Me too," Willow nodded. "Do you think we'll make it?" Tara again inspected the ground between them and their impromptu destination.

"It's not too far, but the ground is a bit broken, some more hills down there…I think we'll reach it before the sun sets."

"Well," Willow said, holding out her free hand to Tara, "let's cover some ground then."

Chapter 32

The ground was broken and rocky on the downward slopes of the rise, but smoother and greener the further Willow and Tara walked. With an hour and a half, Tara guessed, of sunlight before evening, they reached a small wood growing in the bottom of the valley, beneath the final ridge, and skirting around to the north of it they found the cabin Tara had seen from afar.

"Do you think there's anyone here?" Willow wondered as they approached.

"No," Tara said, "I don't think so." She had her spear held protectively in front of her, but Willow felt a sense of calm about her that suggested her instincts weren't warning her of any close danger. Nevertheless, she slung her bow over her shoulder, keeping her right hand free to cast, and a firm grip on her staff with the other.

The cabin was a simple, rugged building, barely large enough to be considered a house more than a shed. On the far side, peeking over the top of the roof, was a stone chimney, while the walls were rough-cut wood. The two windows they could see were closed with shutters, but the door was half-open, its bottom corner resting against a stone in the patch of hard-packed dirt that served as a path in front of it. Rough tracks led off north, north-east and south, the last heading into the trees.

"Deserted," Tara murmured. Willow nodded absently – her nerves were still a little shaky from the day's events, but she wasn't getting any sense of foreboding from the crude little cabin. It didn't look as if it harbored dangerous people or skulking demons, merely that it was unused and neglected. Reaching the door, Tara tapped it with her spear-point, listening for any movement from within. Hearing none, she peered into the gloom inside, with Willow close behind her.

The cabin proved to be empty, and a cursory search suggested it had been for some time. There were two rooms, the first, which the front door opened into, little more than a wide hallway with a sturdy, simple table at one end, and hooks on the side wall for coats or weapons. There was a patch of dirt just inside the door, on the floor and on the doorframe, where boots had been scraped free of mud, but it had long since dried out. A few leaves had blown in through the open door, but on the table and all over the far end of the hall, sheltered from the wind, was a thick layer of dust.

The other room, through a side door at the end of the hall, was larger and suggested that it had once been more comfortably furnished. The stone fireplace opened there, with a few half-burned logs on an iron grate, and the floor in front of it was covered by an old rug, worn through to the floorboards in places, its colors long since faded to dusty browns and grays. There was a single chair, a shelf on the wall beside it, and a bed with a bundle of worn, dusty blankets draped carelessly over one end of it. Of who had once lived here, or what they had done, there was little trace.

"Maybe it's a hunter's cabin," Tara suggested, breaking the silence as they stood in the room, "someone from Kotram might come out here during the summer, and leave it empty the rest of the year. It's definitely more than a season since anyone was in here." She pushed open the shutters, which moved with a protesting creak, and checked the views from the three windows.

"Do you think it might be safe?" Willow asked. Tara stared thoughtfully out of the window she stood in front of, which faced back to the west, into the sun creeping towards the rise they had stood on hours earlier. For a moment she was lost in thought, then she glanced at Willow and gave her a smile.

"I think so," she said. "I haven't seen any sign of demons since the trail up on the hill, and I haven't sensed anything dangerous. I suppose, if we're careful, we'd be as safe here as out in the open. At least this way we're out of the wind, and we'll be dry if it rains." She caught Willow's hand and gave it a squeeze.

"Yay," Willow said with satisfaction. "No fire, though? Thought not," she added when Tara gave a rueful half-grin.

"From the outside, there'd be nothing to indicate this was anything but an abandoned cabin," she said, turning her attention back to their surroundings, "and it's been left alone so far. We'll stay here. But there's plenty of sunlight left, I'd like to find that stream I thought I saw. Coming?"

"You even have to ask?" said Willow wryly, giving Tara a quick hug and kissing her on the cheek.

After a couple of minutes following the trail into the woods Tara heard the sound of running water, a few paces before Willow noticed it as well. Ahead the trail passed by a large boulder, sitting incongruously in the middle of the trees, and when they rounded it they saw the sparkle of water in the sunlight ahead. The trail veered close to the stream, then back into the woods, while Willow and Tara brushed through the handful of bushes in their way and stood on the grassy bank, grinning at each other. The scene was unexpectedly lovely: the stream, winding through the woods, trickled into a shallow depression, forming a tiny lake before bubbling on its way. At the south end another boulder lay half-submerged, a great, flat rock tilted over so that it slanted gently beneath the water. The far bank was covered in wild flowers, blooming in red and white, and the sunlight came through the foliage in erratic rays, shifting lazily as the taller branches swayed in the gentle breeze above.

"You know, I think whoever built that cabin was on to a good thing," Willow observed with a smile.

"Are you thinking of staying a few extra days in the wilderness?" Tara teased.

"Oh, that's tough," Willow frowned, "fresh sheets on the bed, hot food, no prowling monsters…civilization has its good points. But then again, this…" She gestured vaguely around.

"You remember the house I told you about?" Tara said, hugging Willow from behind, "the one we'll make our home? The lake comes right up to the back of the house…a little ridge goes out from the shore on the left side, and curves around, almost enclosing it, like our own little private lake, with trees growing along the sides…we could plant flowers by the banks, just like this." Willow sighed happily, then turned and kissed Tara, very slowly and gently.

"I love you," she murmured when she finally leant back from Tara's lips.

"I know," Tara replied, "I love you." She returned Willow's kiss, just as gentle and peaceful, her tongue leisurely tracing Willow's lips, in lieu of any more frenzied activity. Willow moaned quietly into her mouth, and put on an adorable pout when Tara finally stepped back.

"We can't just kiss all day," she pointed out.

"Can't we?" Willow asked, raising her eyebrows.

"Okay, correction," Tara conceded with a grin, "we can't kiss all day today. Anyway, if we did, there wouldn't be any time for a bath." Willow's eyes lit up, and she glanced at the tiny lake.

"Really?" she asked. "You think it's safe? I mean…I don't want to end up fighting demons with no clothes on. Me with the no clothes, not the demons, they typically don't bother anyway." Tara laughed to herself and kissed the tip of Willow's nose.

"I don't feel any danger around," she said, "I think we can afford to be out of armor for a little while. Quickly though, we should get back to the cabin before the sun goes down."

"Gotcha," Willow said, "what do you think, an hour?" Tara glanced at the angle of the sunlight coming through the trees.

"Pretty close," she said, "no less than that. You get started, I'll just check the view from that rock." Willow nodded and sat down on the grass, pulling her boots off. She took a speculative whiff of one of them, and then gingerly put both boots down at arm's length.

"Okay," she said to herself, undoing her skirt, "cross-country walking equals intense need for regular bathing." She unslung the waterskin from her shoulder and put it and her belt aside, with Tara's pack.

"Hey Tara…Tara?" She looked down towards the big rock, but Tara was nowhere in sight. "Tara!" She breathed a sigh of relief as Tara straightened up from behind the rock.

"Willow?" she asked.

"Sorry," Willow said sheepishly, as Tara walked back to her, "guess I'm a bit jumpy." Tara sat down next to her and put a hand on her shoulder.

"It's alright," she said gently, "I can understand why. I was just looking at that rock, I only crouched down for a second."

"I know, I just glanced over at the wrong time," Willow said, embarrassed at herself, "I just…for a moment everything was starting to feel kind of normal again, and then you weren't there, I guess…my overreaction, sorry."

"No, don't be sorry," Tara said soothingly, helping Willow take off her armor, "it's nothing to be embarrassed about. We had a scare today, and I think maybe it was worse for you than it was for me."

"How?" Willow asked, feeling strangely vulnerable. "You were the one who…who was…"

"I had you," Tara said, "but you were the one who had to be strong."

"Strong how?" Willow asked, almost pleading. "I was…what could I have done? If I hadn't had the potion, if I hadn't had the journal, or if it had needed some other cure I didn't have with me, I…there would've been nothing I could do, I-" She choked back a sob. "I feel like I came so close to losing you, a-and I…I was so scared," she finally admitted. In an instant Tara was holding her, and she was crying on Tara's shoulder.

"Shh, it's alright," Tara murmured, "it's alright Willow, I'm here, I'm with you, just like I always will be."

"I-I'm sorry," Willow sobbed, "I don't know why I…why this is-"

"It's alright," Tara repeated, "it's alright…you had a scare, that's all. You just need to heal." She kissed Willow on the top of her head, then leant down to whisper in her ear: "and I know exactly the potion to cure you." Willow paused at the seductive tone in Tara's voice, confused.

"Tara?" she asked.

"Make love to me," Tara whispered, "run your hands all over me, feel how alive I am…how alive you make me…"

"I-is it safe enough here?" Willow asked hesitantly, her body responding to Tara even as her mind was still caught between conflicting impulses.

"Yes," Tara purred, "I promise, nothing will hurt us. You want to, I know…"

"Oh gods I want to," Willow gasped, "I just…don't want to be careless, not after almost…losing-"

"I promise," Tara said again, "I would never risk myself, or you. You know that."

"I know," Willow echoed. Her tentative grin turned sultry, then almost predatory as she hugged Tara against her, and then quickly went to work on the buckles holding her armor on. Between her hands and Tara's the leathers were lying on the ground in no time, and Tara was left in her boots and underwear. With the sudden inflaming of passions so unexpected after their enforced abstention of the past two days, Willow was left breathless for a moment, gazing down the length of Tara's body, across her full breasts, the curves of her hips, her long, elegant legs, down to the points of her boots and back up again to meet her gaze. Tara leaned back on the grass and kicked off her boots, dipping her eyes momentarily. Willow followed her gaze down, then reached for the leather underwear around Tara's hips and dragged them down her legs, making herself wait until she had tossed them aside to join the rest of their clothes before looking back, granting herself the sight of her lover's naked form.

"Oh my gods," she breathed, all thoughts of making love to Tara momentarily displaced by the joy of simply seeing her, devouring the sight of her. Tara smiled, stretched, then slowly got to her feet and reached a hand down for Willow. Willow took it, was drawn to her feet in a daze, and followed Tara hand-in-hand over to the big boulder slanting out of the water. She blinked as she felt her feet cool, and realized belatedly that they had walked a little way into the small lake. Tara turned to her, leaned forward, lifted Willow's hand and pressed it to her chest, then to her lips for a gentle kiss. Then, all languid elegance, she lay down on the smooth surface of the boulder, glowing in the afternoon sun. Willow took a step forward and knelt next to her, breathing in little gasps. She gulped and licked her lips as Tara looked up at her, and nodded.

Without a word Willow leaned over Tara, almost kissing her. She could feel Tara's breath against her lips, tempting her, but still she hovered just beyond contact, staring into Tara's eyes, where she saw desire, anticipation, need, but above all peace. Leaning on one arm, she gingerly touched her free hand to Tara's stomach, eliciting a soft whimper from Tara, who writhed gently under her touch. Willow leant a fraction further, brushing her lips lightly on Tara's, not enough for a kiss, merely hints of contact, tantalizing tastes of the softness of her lips. Her hand crept steadily upwards, her fingertips teasing the underside of Tara's breasts, straying into the cleavage between the two soft, flawless mounds resting like pillows against her chest. Tara gasped, tilted her head backward, reaching for Willow's lips, but still Willow held herself back, touching her, teasing her, her tongue darting out to taste Tara's lips, but never quite sealing the kiss. When Willow finally stretched her hand across Tara's right breast, squeezing gently, Tara let out a long, deep sigh, and her attempts to reach Willow dwindled away, replaced by a blissful calm where she stared into Willow's eyes and simply accepted whatever touch or caress she offered.

Willow slid her left leg over Tara's hips and straddled her, pressing her silk-covered sex against Tara's stomach while her other hand joined the first, completing her embrace of Tara's breasts. Tara smiled wider, if that was possible, and arched her back, pressing her waist up between Willow's wide-spread thighs, stretching her arms out above her head and using her body to please Willow. Willow bit her lip, resting more of her weight on Tara and more aggressively massaging her breasts, feeling her fingertips press into the yielding flesh, and Tara's nipples hard in the centers of her palms. Small, musical sounds emanated from Tara's through, escaping her lips as she gasped and clenched her teeth, writhing beneath Willow as if her climax was already near. For a long time Willow lost herself in the experience of pleasing Tara, feeling the delight of holding her breasts, their softness and weight, pressing against them and cupping them, and in Tara's answering gyrations, the firm pressure against her sex, knowing the pleasure she was giving her.

Finally she could wait no longer. In a smooth motion she slid to one side, her sex still pressed against Tara's hip rather than lifting away from her, and her hands moved. One cradled Tara's head, her fingers slipping easily through the silky blonde hair, the other moved down her stomach and through the soft curls of hair at the apex of her thighs. Tara nodded, wordlessly pleading. Willow's fingers found her wetness, already soaking her sex and glistening on her inner thighs, and for a moment she smiled down at Tara, noting every tiny moan and whimper as her fingers played in her sex, stroking close to her clit, brushing against her lips and then at last seeking the crevice between them. She readied the tip of a finger at the entrance to Tara's passage, then almost kissed her, nipping her bottom lip and holding it for a moment. As she leant back, a second finger joined the first, poised to explore Tara's depths.

"Please," Tara whispered, and no voice bearing edicts from rulers, angels or gods could ever have achieved such total command of Willow's heart as that simple, heartfelt plea. Feeling as if somehow it was Tara making love to her, Willow slid her fingers into the tight, welcoming confines of her sex, and as Tara's lips parted again in a gasp Willow kissed her.

In the first gasp of pleasure at Willow entering her Tara had let her mouth open wide, and she made no effort to pull away when Willow's kiss claimed her, their lips sealed together, Willow's tongue venturing deep into the warmth of Tara's mouth. Tara sighed, moaned, whimpered, arched her back, bucked her hips, all without any thought of restraint, the sounds from her throat muffled by Willow lips, the motions of her body serving only to enfold Willow's fingers deeper into her sex. Willow's steadily thrusting fingertips searched out Tara's sweet spot and caressed it, first with soft, tender care, and slowly, building as Tara neared climax, more firmly stroking over the especially sensitive place within her. When Tara was an inch from climax Willow pressed the heel of her hand firmly against her clit, and buried her fingers in her, probing and stimulating the wet interior of her sex, again and again crossing over her sweet spot, pressing just a little firmer each time.

Tara brought her hands up to cup Willow's face as their kiss reached its climax, and her body heaved and let loose its bounty of arousal. As she came her lips moved against Willow's, closing on her tongue of lips and again opening wide, inviting her in. With every renewal of the kiss Willow flexed her fingers, sending another bout of sweet tremors through Tara. Tara let all the strength out of her body, completely relaxed in Willow's hold, and when at last the kiss ended she smiled up at her.

Willow returned her smile, feeling no urgent need to have her own body's wants attended to, but simply a great sense of satisfaction and peace. She realized that all afternoon she had felt uneasy, a remnant of the quick panic that had gripped her as she had frantically searched through the pages of Ember's journal for a treatment for Tara's wound. Even when she had found it, and Tara was well again, a part of her hadn't let go of the icy fear she had felt then. But now, it was gone.

"How…?" she began to ask, before being silenced by Tara's finger on her lips.

"Better?" she asked. Willow nodded, smiling and wondering. "Something I learned, in weapons training in fact," Tara went on, "some things you can understand perfectly with your mind, but your body has to learn as well. Like wielding a spear – you can see it done a hundred times, memorize every motion, but until you hold it in your hands, feel your own body going through those motions, you never quite grasp it."

"Uh-huh," said Willow, confused.

"When you were worried about me today," Tara said, running her finger up to rest against Willow's temple, "when it was over, your mind understood I was safe, that you weren't going to lose me. But your body," her hand traveled down Willow's neck to brush against her cleavage, "was still afraid."

"And now I'm not," Willow finished, marveling at how Tara could know what she needed, when she herself hadn't really known.

"Now you're not," Tara echoed. "Now you've felt me in your arms again, felt me move under your hands…felt the pleasure you've given me…now you know in here," she tapped Willow's temple again, "and here," her fingers returned to her chest, "that you're not going to lose me."

"So I just needed a, ah, physical reminder?" Willow asked with a grin.

"Something like that," Tara nodded, sitting up slowly, "I'm sure it would've sunk in in a day or two that I'm not going anywhere, but," she leaned close, as if imparting a secret, "I kind of liked this way better."

"That's what I love about you," Willow said, "you make everything a joy."

"Just that?" Tara teased.

"That, and many, many other things," Willow purred, lifting her soaked fingers to her mouth, wetting her lips and then sucking them clean.

"Careful," Tara warned, "you might tempt me too much, and then we'll be too exhausted in the morning to walk anywhere."

"Oh, don't worry," Willow grinned, "I'll wait until we're safe and snug in an inn or something, then I'll lick you 'til you can't move a muscle."

"Hmm, that's a claim I'll have to investigate further when the time comes," Tara murmured, idly dragging Willow's silken underwear over her hips and down her legs.

"It's not a claim, it's a promise," Willow corrected, lifting her feet free of her last article of clothing.

"Come here you," Tara said fondly, reaching one arm beneath Willow's knees and the other around her back, picking her up with just a slight exhalation of effort.

"Ooh!" Willow exclaimed. "Hey, wow you're strong."

"You're not that heavy," Tara pointed out, walking slowly out into the water. Willow looped her arms casually around Tara's neck.

"So now that my lovely Amazon warrior has come and swept me off my feet, now what?"

"Bath time," Tara said, and abruptly let herself fall backwards into the water.

"Wha- AH!" Willow squealed as the cold water splashed around her. Her legs flailed uselessly as Tara rose up, grinning a mischievous grin through strands of wet hair plastered over her face.

"That was thoroughly evil!" Willow protested, not quite able to keep herself from grinning in return.

"I'd say fortuitous," Tara pointed out, "who knows how long we'd have been out here if we hadn't cooled off?"

"Oh yeah?" Willow shot back, sweeping an arm across the water's surface, splashing Tara. Tara let go of her and dived backwards, splashing out of Willow's reach before regaining her footing and sending an answering wave towards Willow, completing the task of thoroughly soaking her. The two splashed and laughed for a few moments, finally coming to rest not far from the shore, hugging each other and giggling uncontrollably in waist-deep water.

"Truce?" Willow gasped.

"So long as we're agreed it's a draw," Tara replied, catching her breath and smiling, "an Amazon never accepts defeat."

"Heh," Willow chuckled, "sorceresses aren't exactly known for it either."

"Truce then," Tara agreed.

"Okay," Willow nodded, "but I'm not promising not to get you back at an undetermined future date." Tara grinned, kissed Willow on the forehead, and took her hand. Together they made their way back to the shore where their belongings were piled.

"Think you can catch me off guard, do you?" Tara teased.

"Oh, I know it," Willow replied. Tara handed her one of the blankets from her pack.

"It'll do as a towel," she said, "we won't need it while we're in shelter." Willow dried herself off and dressed, lastly wandering over to the boulder where her underwear was lying. She picked the silk up and examined it critically.

"Hmm?" Tara wondered, seeing her thoughtful expression.

"Got an idea," Willow said. Kneeling by the water she dipped the underwear in and scrubbed it for a moment, cleaning the fabric as best she could under the circumstances.

"What if the hosts of hell descend on us before they dry?" Tara asked lightly. "You're going to fight evil panty-less?"

"There's something I've occasionally wanted to try," Willow said, laying her underwear back on the rock, "it's tricky, but I might as well give it a shot…" She concentrated, and a misty haze formed around the soaked article of clothing. Tara finished pulling her boots on and came over to watch, as Willow closed her eyes, her brow furrowing as the mist swirled around, little streams of vapor moving in tight spirals within it. Finally, with a relieved exhale, Willow opened her eyes and dispersed the chilly vapor.

"What did you do?" Tara asked. Willow picked up the briefs and handed them to Tara, who jumped when she touched them.

"Yipes! They're cold…and dry, how did you do that?"

"Motion by temperature variance," Willow said with a grin, "same way I make ice bolts fly. Only, that's pretty simplistic, whereas drawing the moisture out of a pair of panties without accidentally shredding said panties…tricky. Interesting, though, much more delicate and subtle to the exercises I'm used to."

"You're a woman of many talents," Tara observed, handing Willow her underwear back.

"Want me to do yours?" Willow asked. Tara smiled her thanks, and wriggled out of her leather briefs.

"Never say no to clean underwear," Tara mused, scrubbing the leather in the stream's water. She watched, fascinated, as Willow bit her lip in concentration and drew the moisture out, leaving the leather as dry as if it had spent a day resting in the sun.

"There you go," Willow said, handing them back to Tara, "now we're sparkling and pristine again." They picked up the rest of their things and started on their way back to the cabin.

"You know, you never cease to amaze me," Tara said fondly as they walked.

"Thanks," Willow smiled, "yeah, who'd have thought Zann Esu training would make me the perfect traveling laundry service?"

"Oh, I never assume you can't do anything," Tara replied. "Just as well, though. I was thinking we should clean at least our underwear tomorrow, but I didn't really want to travel cross-country with nothing under my skirt while they were drying out."

"Yeah, imagine if you had to high-kick a Carver," Willow pointed out. Tara shuddered theatrically.

"No thank you," she said, "I'm a one-woman Amazon. You're the only one who gets to see the, um, intimate side of me."

"Good," Willow said, squeezing Tara's hand affectionately.

They reached the cabin just as the sun was starting to set, and in the little remaining light Tara did her best to clean up the old blankets they had found there, taking them outside and whacking them against a nearby tree to try to beat the dust out of them, with marginal success.

"They're still kind of dirty," she said apologetically when she returned, to find Willow laying out the sleeping bag on the empty bed frame.

"Doesn't matter," Willow said, "you're right, I don't think we'll need more than one blanket tonight. That padding on the back of your pack is kind of soft, it'll make an okay pillow. Do you think they'd be okay if we washed them? We could tomorrow, before we set out, and then wring them dry, I don't know if I can dry out something that big all at once, but we could get them dry enough to carry them, and they'd dry out properly during the day, so if we need them…"

"We'll be in Kotram by tomorrow afternoon," Tara reminded her. Willow grinned a sheepish grin.

"Oh, yeah," she said, "I forgot. Well, not really, I guess I was just kind of getting into the whole survivalist thing, us against the wilderness, with just our wits and whatever we can scrounge up to help us. Plus I'm a natural scavenger." Tara retrieved a serve of rations from her pack, which broken in half and combined with a share of berries she had found on the way back from the stream was enough to keep their stomachs from complaining.

"You know, back in Kehjistan I used to accumulate all sorts of junk," Willow said idly as they ate. "I always figured, 'hey, it might be useful somehow', and kept everything I ever bought or found. My room back in the Order city's full of little trinkets and things that looked useful at some point, and bits and pieces from everywhere I'd been. One time we, Ember and me, we took a boat across to Lut Gholein, and I came back with a statue."

"A statue?" Tara echoed.

"Yep. Life-sized bust of a cat priestess – like, cat-person, not cat - with this big ornate headdress, all painted with shiny black fur and green eyes and everything. They had some trouble, back in the Reckoning, in Lut Gholein with cat people, the chaos energy from the Prime Evils turned them savage, and some caravans crossing the Aranoch desert got attacked by bands of them. There used to be lots of them living in the city as well, but when that happened either they were affected by the chaos, or they got chased out anyway, and their houses got torn down. That's what Ember told me, anyway, I think she was around there during part of it. I found this old statue in the back of this dusty little antique shop, mostly just selling junk no-one in their right mind would want, and when I mentioned I was thinking of buying it, Ember just shrugged and arranged to have it loaded on our boat for when we went back to Kurast."

"That's sad," Tara said. "About the cats, I mean, not the statue-buying, that's just adorably quirky. Are there any left?"

"In Lut Gholein, no," Willow said, "maybe somewhere in the desert, no-one knows, but there's rumors that after the Reckoning ended, the tribes out there that had survived went back to normal, but stayed out there because they were ashamed of what they'd done. There's lots in Kehjistan, all over the place – it's where they come from originally – but they keep their distance from people most of the time. Ember said they all vanished about a year before the Reckoning, as if they felt it was coming and wanted to avoid it, so they weren't driven savage like the ones in Aranoch. But they still prefer to keep to themselves, apparently, and from what Ember's told me they never came back to the big cities like Kurast in the kind of numbers they'd had once. I've actually never seen a cat person up close – there's one, a male called Night Claw, who comes to the Order every few months to exchange information, but I only ever saw him from a distance. I wish I'd met that one in Kingsport."

"Marela," Tara remembered, "well, we can see if she's still around if we ever go back there. I think she'll like you."

"Really?" Willow smiled.

"Well, how could anyone not?" Tara replied.

"Aw," Willow said, leaning in to kiss her. They finished their meal quickly, and Tara closed the shutters after one last look out at the dark landscape. She returned to the bed, where Willow had wriggled into the bedroll, and gave her a goodnight kiss on the forehead as she settled down and prodded the pack beneath her head, making it comfortable.

"Sweet dreams," she murmured.

"The sweetest," Willow smiled, "love you."

"I love you too."

The moon, already some distance on its path across the night sky, shed just enough light through the cracks in the shutters for Tara to watch Willow as she settled down and soon fell asleep. She leaned back on her chair beside the bed, listening to the night-time sounds from outside. She found that, without a fire going in the hearth to warm the cabin, she actually preferred to be outside, where the sounds were a little less muffled, the breeze blew gently on her face, and all in all the world seemed a little more alive. Then again, she mused, hearing the treetops sway in the wind, it was a little more than a gentle breeze out there, and shelter from the wind and the chance of rain was not something to be scoffed at either. She wondered idly if a balcony could be added to the house by the lake back home, so they could sleep out there on calm summer nights. That led her to imagining the house populated with Willow's collection of 'trinkets and bits and pieces', which she imagined as a assortment of magical, mysterious relics of far-off lands and traditions lost in the mists of time.

Unwilling to leave Willow's side to check the sky, Tara found herself marking time by the shaft of moonlight coming through a particularly wide crack in the shutters above the bed, and hazarded a guess at where it would fall on midnight. When it reached there – the right-side edge of the fireplace – Tara waited a while longer, then reluctantly woke Willow with a kiss and swapped places with her. She was surprised and pleased when, after lying down, she felt Willow's lips against hers in a long, passionate kiss that brought to mind their brief, carefree moment by the little lake in the forest. Willow pressed another kiss, light and tender, against Tara's forehead, then gently stroked her hair as she fell asleep.

Willow unknowingly found herself constructing a similar system as Tara's to tell the time, though in her case she compared the set-up of shutter, wall and moonlight to various intricate sundials the Order kept in its libraries, which Willow had studied during the occasional periods she had gone through in which mechanisms of all sorts were the focus of her fascination. Once satisfied that she had thought through all the measurements accurately, she passed the time by going over in her mind how to best explain her drying-by-cold-variation spell, as if she were writing one of the papers that sorceresses wrote and kept in the Order libraries whenever they hit upon a particularly novel use of their elemental powers. Willow smiled to herself, imagining sorceresses the world over studying Willow's Laundry Dryer and practicing on bits of damp cloth.

She was drawn slowly out of her reverie by a vague sense of unease, and she frowned, listening intently for a sound from outside that might have disturbed her. She couldn't hear anything, no matter how hard she pushed herself to detect every tiny sound, filtering out the creaking of branches and the whistling of the wind, yet the uneasiness remained. She was on the verge of discounting it and relaxing when, at last, her ears pricked up to something from outside. Somewhere nearby, on one of the trails to the north, she had heard a footstep.

Holding her breath she turned to Tara, only to see the tiniest reflections of the moonlight on the opposite wall in her eyes. Straining her eyes, Willow saw Tara blinking in the darkness – she must have just awoken, she guessed, her honed senses alerting her even in sleep that all was not well. Willow placed a hand gently on her shoulder, and felt Tara start a little, then relax under her touch. Slowly, not making a sound, Tara slid out of the sleeping bag and crouched beside Willow's chair. Willow carefully lifted herself off the chair, thankful she had managed it without the wood creaking, and waited beside Tara, listening.

For several moments Willow could hear nothing more – had the sound been something else that she had mistaken? Or had it just come during a lull in the wind, and was now being obscured. Her hand closed around her staff, and she glanced at Tara. Tara held up a hand, just visible in the gloom, touched a finger just below her left eye, then to her left ear, then pointed across the room, towards the fireplace, northwards. Willow nodded, understanding well enough – Tara had sensed something as well.

The sound came back, just as it had been before, the dull thud of a foot on the hard-packed earth on the trail. A pause, then another thud, as if something were walking very slowly, halting each time it put one foot in front of the other. Willow's mind worked incessantly, sifting through ideas and possibilities - what could she tell from the sound? A claw? A boot? A hoof? What would each sound like, how could she tell them apart. With a frown she realized she didn't have the experience to do so – that was the kind of thing Tara had proven herself far more adept at. Yet there was no way Tara could risk making a sound. Willow glanced at her again, and drew strength from the way Tara crouched silently, alert as a hawk, but even with all her senses focused on the distant sound, aware enough of Willow to offer her a quick glance and, Willow felt, though she could not see it in the dark, a smile. She could feel the tension in Tara's body, but it wasn't the tension of a small animal fearful of a predator - Tara was tense like an athlete watching the starter's flag, waiting for it to fall, ready to explode into motion without a moment's hesitation.

The sound came closer: thud, pause, thud, pause. Willow began to hear something in the pauses, a kind of scratching, scraping sound. Thud, scrape. Something being dragged, step by step? Willow had a sudden image of a man with a twisted, lame leg, lurching forward and dragging the limb behind him – her imagination supplied rotting flesh, horns, glowing eyes, claws and all manner of demonic attributes until she clamped down on it. 'Who needs monsters when you can freak yourself out just as well?' she thought with a self-deprecating smile.

The sound was definitely coming closer – along the north path, she guessed, not that it really made a difference, but she found more use in setting her mind to drawing conclusions than imagining nightmare monsters. Thud, scrape, thud, scrape. Willow glanced at Tara nervously, and was absurdly thankful when Tara's hand found hers on the darkened floor and held on. The sound approached the cabin, coming around it to the west. The thuds grew softer, and Willow realized that it had left the path and was walking through the unkempt long grass. There was a rustle of a small plant being brushed past, then silence. Willow gulped and willed herself to remain totally silent, to be so still that even Tara's Amazon senses wouldn't detect even the faintest trace of an air current from her. She suddenly felt as though her breathing was far too loud, her chest was rising and falling too much, that the motion would give them away.

Only her determination to remain still and silent kept her from jumping when a shadow fell across one of the shafts of moonlight shining on the opposite wall. Tara's hand in hers squeezed warmly, lovingly, reassuring her and calming her at the same time. Whatever it was, it was right outside the cabin, standing by the south wall, blocking the light. One by one the shafts blacked out, then the first one reappeared as the thing moved on. Willow held her breath – it must be almost at the path leading to the door, any moment now-

Thud. It was a boot, she was sure from the sound of it against the hardened ground. Not a demon? A person? Willow wondered fitfully what to do – remain silent? Call out? Even if it wasn't a demon, that didn't mean it would be a friend. What would anyone be doing trudging slowly through the wilderness at this hour? Thud, then the dragging sound again. One more thud, one more scrape. Willow sensed rather than heard Tara raise her spear, covering the door to the hallway.

There was a faint sound from the other door, a tiny rap, as if someone were knocking but trying not to be heard. Willow wished now they had closed the front door – they had left it open, to give the impression that the cabin was just as abandoned as when they had found it, but now Willow wondered whether the thing outside was stealthily slipping through the half-open door, creeping along the hall – no, of course not, they would hear its feet on the wooden floorboards far louder than on the dirt trails outside. Again a tiny knock on the wood of the door, then a fitful scratching, scrabbling sound, as if fingers were running over the rough wood, the nails catching on knots and splinters.

Then thud, scrape…the moonlight blacked out from right to left, then appeared again. Something – an arm? – knocked against the corner of the cabin as the thing rounded it, then after a moment more of silence, again the slow, dreary footsteps sounded on the northern trail. Willow listened, trying to defy the trembling that threatened to overcome her, as the sound faded away into the distance, and finally there was nothing but the whistle of the wind, and the creaking of branches from the south.

Tara stood slowly, and Willow stood with her, still doing her best not to show her fright. She felt Tara's hand squeeze hers once, then Tara sat back down on the bed, gently tugging on Willow's arm, asking her to join her. Willow sat down at once, letting out a long, shuddering breath, and when she felt Tara against her, their arms touching as they sat side-by-side, she was surprised to feel Tara trembling just as she was. Willow reached for her, her own fear forgotten, just for a moment, and Tara reached for Willow. They stayed that way, embracing, waiting for the dawn, the rest of the night.

Chapter 33

Author's Note: Note: Elaboration on some of the events of this and the previous chapter can be found in the accompanying short story Into The Woods. It's a Halloween story, so be warned.

Willow gave a quiet sigh as, at last, she saw sunlight filtering through the cracks in the cabin's shutters. After the night's events she hadn't felt safe so long as the dark endured – particularly when the moon set, leaving no light to see by or mark the time by its progress across the wall. Tara hadn't let her go, though Willow was relieved that she had managed a couple of hours of fitful sleep, still leaning against her shoulder, her arm curled around Willow's waist. Willow gently kissed her on the top of her head, and nudged her.

"Mmmwha?" she murmured. Willow felt her stirring, then she started, her arm tightened, and when she spoke her voice was anxious. "Willow?"

"It's alright," Willow whispered soothingly, "it's fine… just the dawn." Tara sighed and relaxed, reaching her other arm around Willow for a proper hug.

"Good," she said firmly, a shudder running through her.

"What do you say when we get a room at the inn tonight, we leave a candle burning?" Willow suggested. Tara squeezed her gently, then disentangled herself.

"No objections here," she said, standing up and stretching.

"We should get going," Willow suggested automatically. "If you think it's best, I mean…I was just thinking…well, honestly, I'd kind of like to get out of here as soon as possible." Tara turned and brushed a hand gently over her cheek.

"Me too," she admitted. "And anyway, the sooner we leave, the sooner we'll get to Kotram. I'll carry our bags, you take the blankets." She glanced at the shuttered window. "I don't think there's anything around here that wants them."

Willow felt a lot more like herself once she was outside in the sunlight, trying to shake a bit more dust out of the old blankets while Tara searched her pack for something to eat to start the day. She handed Willow a packet of dried food and crouched down, inspecting the ground just outside the door.

"Anything?" Willow asked.

"I'm not sure," Tara shrugged. "The ground's so packed down and dry, there's only tiny traces. Not just last night, though…I think perhaps whatever it was has been here before." She stood up with a frown. "I should've checked more thoroughly yesterday," she muttered. Willow stood beside her and touched her gently on the arm.

"Be honest," she said, "if you hadn't known for sure something had been here, would you have been able to tell just from the ground?" Tara sighed, then the tension left her shoulders.

"No," she shook her head, "no, I doubt it. Maybe with twenty years' more training."

"Then it's not your fault we didn't know," Willow said firmly, "and seeing as no harm came from it, it's not worth worrying about. Come here." Tara gratefully turned into Willow's hug, burying her face in her hair.

"I was scared," Tara admitted in a whisper, "I know it… whatever it was, it probably wasn't anything worse than what we've already faced, but…I wish we'd just come across it out in the open, in broad daylight. Seen what it was, fought it if we had to…I wish it hadn't been like that, so…slow. And hidden." Willow held her, and ran her fingers through Tara's hair soothingly.

"Me too," she said. "I wanted to just crawl into a corner and hide, but you know why I didn't?" Tara shook her head. "You," Willow said simply. "You were so alert and, and ready, I…no matter how frightening it gets, part of me always feels safe with you."

"Thank you," Tara smiled, pulling back just enough to see Willow, while remaining in her arms.

"Hey, I'm thanking you," Willow protested. She was relieved to see a genuinely amused smile on Tara's lips at that, and returned the grin when Tara leaned forward and the tips of their noses touched.

"I feel safe with you too," Tara said.

"That's all I need to know," Willow replied. "Now, shall we get out of here?"

"Let's," Tara agreed. Munching their bland rations they set off, Tara carrying her satchel and pack, Willow carrying the spare blankets. She wondered if they would return to the lake to wash them – today the shadows beneath the trees didn't look so inviting – but Tara evidently felt likewise, as they skirted around the north edge of the wood, finding the stream that fed the lake a mile or so from the cabin.

"Um, I was wondering," Willow began as they soaked and wrung out the blankets, cleaning them thoroughly, "do you have any idea what that thing might have been? Not to dwell on a scary subject, you know, but the curious part of me is kind of…well, curious."

"It's alright," Tara said, "I-I'm feeling better now."

"Not that curiosity is all-important," Willow admitted, "I mean, if you don't know, my curiosity can go jump in the lake, 'cause I'm not going back just to find out…" Tara chuckled.

"I think maybe an undead," she said as they started walking again. "I could feel something very faint, almost like an echo of a living thing. It definitely wasn't a demon, I'd have known in an instant if it were. It felt like something that was part of the natural world, but not quite right." She frowned. "Undead aren't demons, are they? I mean, it's not a demon sort of inhabiting the body, or anything like that?"

"No, that's possessed," Willow said, quite casual now that her mind was working in its accustomed analytical fashion. "Undead are caused by demons, but they're not demons themselves. Usually caused by demons, that is. Humans can do it too, but that's necromancy. Normally it's the presence of demonic energy, for example," she cast an arm around, "if the area happens to contain a bunch of wretched little demon hybrids prowling around making trouble. The life force in them isn't natural – part of it is, the part that used to be a normal creature, but part of it is demonic, which is probably what you sense when you sense them."

"They're not supposed to be part of this world," Tara surmised.

"Got it in one," Willow agreed. "Demons being here upsets the…well, the world, I guess, the balance of nature, whatever you want to call it. Like the world is a big clockwork engine, with all the parts working together, with each other – demons are like pebbles dropped into it. They get in the gears and jam things up."

"That causes undead?" Tara asked.

"Essentially," Willow said. "They upset all the balances in nature. And one of those balances is between life and death. Sometimes, when the balance is upset, the energy can run the wrong way – a dead body can actually gain energy, come back to life, sort of. Only there's no soul to guide it, to make it properly living, so they're just," she shrugged, "hungry. Most primitive instincts, I guess, survive and feed. That's why they attack people. But they're really not aware like people, the accounts I've read say they're prone to random behavior, suddenly turning aggressive or passive for no reason, losing control of their limbs, going berserk. Sometimes the energy in them just fails for no reason, and they fall over dead. Deader. Or re-dead. Something like that," she shrugged. "True demons can use necromantic magic deliberately, and control the undead they create, but they make lousy soldiers anyway. That's why they created hybrid demons, according to the accounts of the Sin Wars."

Tara took Willow's hand to help her up over a jagged boulder blocking their path, and kept hold as they proceeded up the slope.

"Are there really human necromancers?" she asked. "You've mentioned them once or twice, I think, but I wasn't sure if you were joking or not."

"Did I?" Willow asked.

"Oh, days ago," Tara explained.

"Oh, right. They exist, somewhere. You're sure you want to know? I don't want to give you nightmares or anything…" Tara grinned and brought Willow's hand up to her lips, kissing her palm.

"You can tell me," she said, "I'm a big girl."

"Yeah, I noticed," Willow replied, licking her lips and deliberately looking elsewhere than Tara's face. Tara gave a lopsided smile and swatted Willow on the bottom. "Oh!" she exclaimed.

"Tease an Amazon, will you?" Tara retorted.

"Is that supposed to discourage me, though?" Willow enquired, prompting Tara to roll her eyes. "Okay, okay…let's see, necromancers. Well, for a start, I really doubt that a necromancer is what's causing all this, the one thing that's consistent about all the stories and myths about necromancers is that they hate demons, and demons hate them."

"Why's that?" Tara wondered.

"Probably the same reason demons hate each other," Willow supposed, "they're rivals. Nothing about necromancers is really solid, all there is are legends and stories that might be true, or maybe they were true once and then got embellished over the years. The Order has some books about them, solid facts supposedly, but they're kept in a special library that only the Council is allowed into. Once or twice Ember let me look at a book from the Council library - she's not a Councilor herself, but the Council basically let her do whatever she wants, seeing as she's one of the best sorceresses there is. Those were just really advanced texts on cold magic, though, I never saw any of the necromantic volumes. But there's plenty of stories flying around, I guess there's grains of truth in most of them."

"There's a couple of Amazon myths about men who could command the dead," Tara said, "but they're really old, they're pretty much just figures of darkness, like goblins and bogeymen."

"What's a bogeyman?" Willow asked.

"You know, a monster in a children's story," Tara said airily. "Hide under the bed, behind the wardrobe door, that sort of thing."

"Don't they scare the kids?"

"A bit," Tara said, "but in the stories they're always defeated in the end. They're usually big and scary, but afraid of people who stand up to them."

"Learning to be brave at a young age, huh?" Willow grinned.

"I guess," Tara said, with a slight blush. "Mind you, some of the stories we told each other when we were kids had me hiding under the blankets now and then."

"My mother used to say an evil cow would come get me if I didn't eat my vegetables," Willow said reflectively. She noticed Tara's incredulous look. "What?"

"An evil cow," Tara echoed.

"Yeah," Willow said defensively, "like, a cow standing on its hind legs, with a big axe, and it'd creep around the farms at night and hide outside the bedroom window, and the last thing I'd hear would be this 'moo' and then it'd be too late…" she trailed off. "Well, hey, I was five years old."

"How did it hold the axe?" Tara asked innocently.

"Well it," Willow began, then frowned in thought, "I guess… hooves, huh? Actually, I don't know, I never really thought about it. Um, I guess it sort of, balanced it on its arms, I mean its fore-legs, like," she held her wrists together, miming holding something between them, "and then sort of swung it around…only it'd probably end up hitting itself…" Tara laughed and pulled Willow close for a kiss.

"You have too much fun listening to me ramble," Willow griped.

"But you're so adorable when you do it," Tara pointed out. Willow looked at her sidelong for a moment, then grinned.

"Well, okay," she said, "but only because I love you."

"I love you too," Tara said fondly, "my cutest sorceress in the whole world." Willow smiled widely. "Moo," Tara added, in a quiet voice just as Willow turned away.

"What?"

"What?"

"You just said 'moo'," Willow said levelly.

"Why would I moo that?" Tara asked with a straight face.

"Argh!" Willow groaned in mock-exasperation. "I'm never going to live this down, am I?" She watched Tara laugh, waited until she glanced away, then gave her a light whack on her leather-clad backside.

"Yipes!" she squeaked.

"Anyway, necromancers," Willow went on, as if nothing had happened, "there used to be mmph!" She was cut off as Tara leaned over and kissed her firmly on the lips.

"I love being with you," Tara said softly, no longer teasing at all, but with gentle humor shining in her eyes.

"Yeah I got that impression," Willow breathed, her lips still tingling.

"You don't mind being teased, do you?" Tara asked sincerely.

"Not a bit," Willow said, equally sincere. "Moo," she added with a grin.

"Moo," Tara replied. "What were you saying?"

"What was I saying? Oh, yeah…okay, according to the legends – the ones that might be a bit reliable on some level, anyway – there used to be a whole cult of mages who practiced necromantic magic. They lived somewhere out in Kehjistan, really deep in the jungles where it's dangerous to go, far away from Kurast or the other cities. Of course the other mage clans wouldn't have anything to do with them, I mean, no surprise there…but there was kind of a hierarchy, the most powerful necromancers ruling the others, I guess because they could control the biggest armies of undead."

"Did anyone ever find them?"

"Only in stories," Willow said with a vague wave of her hand, "you know the kind of thing, the noble prince has his princess stolen away by necromancers who want to sacrifice her for…I don't know, something or other…and he has to track them down and rescue her. All pretty fanciful, just stuff made up by people who didn't know the first thing about necromancy… well, that's not a surprise, I guess. But for real, no-one knows. According to the histories the Zakarum church declared a holy war on them a couple of centuries ago and send an army of paladins out to track them down and destroy them."

"What happened?" Tara asked. Willow shrugged.

"They didn't find anything," she said. "Not really good story material…actually I read one book that said the same army went out again, determined not to fail a second time, and they were never heard from again. But that's definitely made up, because several of the more reliable histories actually name some of the paladins who were in the army, and they were involved in other campaigns at the same time as they were supposed to be out in the jungle being overwhelmed by armies of darkness."

"But the story of the army that trudged through the jungle for a few weeks and then came home without finding anything doesn't really work for a bard," Tara grinned.

"Not unless they're very good at singing it," Willow agreed.

"So are they all gone?" Tara asked.

"Officially, the Order maintains that there are still necromancers somewhere. Probably there's just a few, maybe a dozen or so. Even an army couldn't find a dozen people hiding in the Kehjistan jungle, it's just too big. There was a story that said the necromancers had a huge city, deep in the jungle, called Rathma, this great big empire of the undead that they ruled. Even in the jungle the paladins would have found that, if it really existed."

"More bogeymen," Tara mused.

"Probably," Willow agreed, "I mean, what good is a big scary sorcerer if he doesn't have a creepy lair with giant spiders and spooky architecture and stuff? I tell ya, I wouldn't like to be a bard plying my trade if the best I had to work with was 'Prince Charming ventured forth into the spooky camp site in a jungle clearing to rescue has maiden.' But yeah, what it boils down to is, necromantic magic is real, necromancers are real, but if you're seeing undead it's a whole lot more likely that it's demons causing it."

With the sun still rising in the east Willow and Tara reached the crest of the rise, and looked out over the landscape beyond. Willow glanced back, over the valley behind them to the ridge they had stood on the day before.

"We're covering some serious ground," she said. Tara nodded.

"I don't mean to sound condescending," she began hesitantly, "but you're really keeping up well. I mean, I've had plenty of proof you're energetic," she added with a sly grin, "but this kind of thing isn't easy if you're not used to it."

"I've had a bit of training," Willow said as they started down towards the grassy plain, "mostly just general keep-fit stuff with the Order. Healthy body, healthy mind, and all that. Though just between you and me, I like our way of being energetic a lot more than fitness training."

"Me too," Tara smiled, "I'd recommend it to Solari, but I'm keeping you to myself."

"Darn right you are," Willow grinned. "I used to have to walk a fair bit anyway. Some of the trips Ember would take me on were to places that weren't really easily accessible. Take a boat as far up river as it went, then walk the rest of the way to some tribal village where they've never seen stone buildings or steel weapons. Spending half a day tramping through a steaming jungle makes temperate grasslands look pretty inviting by comparison."

"The jungles get hot in Kehjistan?" Tara asked.

"Oh, like you wouldn't believe," Willow said. "It's not so bad downriver near Kurast, or around the Order's city, but when you get into the deep jungle it's stinking hot, so humid you feel like you can't breathe…" she made a face. "There were times when I'd flare off magic just to cool myself down."

"How did Ember cope?"

"If you ever meet her, don't tell her I said this," Willow warned, "but I think she kind of likes being the go-anywhere do-anything sorceress who never gets bothered by anything. I asked her if the heat was getting to her once when we were up-river, and she said she'd been in hotter places. The Aranoch desert, I guess. I've never been into the desert itself, just to Lut Gholein which is on the coast, but it was hot enough there. After we'd been there I stopped complaining about going up-river."

"What did you go for?" Tara asked.

"Magic," Willow said, "always magic. Sometimes I think Ember personally knows every single mage in all of Sanctuary. Everywhere we went she'd bring me to see people, from all the mage clans, and all sorts of other mages. The Order doesn't strictly approve of training with outside mages, unless they've gone through some exhaustive approval process with the Council, but Ember just does what she likes and no-one ever objects."

"Not that different to what you're doing now. What you're *supposed* to be doing now," Tara corrected herself.

"Yeah," Willow agreed thoughtfully, "yeah, it is…I wonder if she meant it that way?"

"What?" Tara asked.

"I was just thinking," Willow said, "if I hadn't, you know, got into that mess in Entsteig, I wonder if Ember was going to take me on a trip like this anyway…then I'd have met you anyway," she added with a grin.

"That's a nice thought," Tara said.

"Yeah, it is," Willow agreed, "maybe there's something in this destiny stuff after all. Heh, I wonder how Ember got the Council to decide to order me to do something she was going to have me do anyway. That'd be just like her, always half a dozen steps ahead. Next time I see her I'm teaching her your Command game, I bet she'll pick it up right away."

"I'd like to meet her," Tara said softly. Willow looked sidelong at her, smiling.

"I'll make sure you do," she promised. She kept her gaze on Tara for a moment as they continued down the slope. "You're not tired, are you?" she asked. "You didn't get much sleep. Do you want to stop for a bit?"

"I suppose it wouldn't hurt," Tara admitted.

"You look like maybe you could use it," Willow added, as they continued a little way further down to a suitable scatter of rocks half-buried in the slope. Tara sat down, and held out an arm for Willow to sit with her, nestled up against her.

"Yeah, well," Tara said vaguely, "creepy stalking undead-things don't make for a restful sleep. Tonight will be better."

"Yup," Willow agreed, "nice hot bath, and then a loooong rest for both of us. I've missed sleeping with you cuddled up against me."

"I have too," Tara smiled.

"And then when we wake up," Willow went on, with a thoughtful grin, "we can take advantage of the other benefits of sharing a bed…and then have another nice long nap after we're all tired out…or maybe another bath together…back to bed…"

"Someone's imagination is running full speed," Tara said, nuzzling into the side of Willow's neck. "What if there's a rider from the caravan waiting for us, and we have to set off right away?"

"Oh now that just wouldn't be fair," Willow proclaimed. She paused, and peered out into the distance. "You don't see any riders, do you?"

"Too far," Tara said, "I can see the villages and the keep, nothing smaller. No towers though, it's not a castle…"

"I'll look it up," Willow said, reaching for the journal.

"Will it be in there?" Tara asked.

"One advantage to studying with a go-anywhere do-anything sorceress like Ember," Willow said, flipping pages idly, "she's gone everywhere and done everything." Tara stared out into the distance again, as Willow skimmed through the pages.

"I wonder if it's a church, or a temple of some sort," she said to herself. "At home some of our outlying towns are built around a temple, it's always the biggest, strongest building."

"I don't see anything," Willow said after a moment's searching, "maybe it just wasn't notable enough for Ember to write down. I'm sure she's traveled through Westmarch at some point. Or maybe she came a different way, along the river or something." Tara nodded, but something had caught her eye. Willow noticed her attention waver, and looked up.

"What?"

"Something," Tara said, "I can't quite tell…" She gazed up into the cloudless sky. Willow followed her gaze, but couldn't see anything.

"Something up there?" she asked. "A bird?"

"Something small," Tara said, "not strong…are there demons that fly?"

"A few," Willow said, her hand closing around her staff, "small ones, like birds."

"It's coming closer," Tara said, "hold this…" Willow took her spear, and watched as Tara stood and drew her bow from her back. She gave a quick glance to the sky, where Tara was staring, but couldn't see anything.

"I can feel it more strongly," Tara said, nocking an arrow to her string, "it's not a natural animal…" She aimed, and Willow again stared into the sky. She imagined she could just see a tiny speck, moving in the blue, then Tara fired, and her arrow shot away, quickly becoming just a speck itself.

"Got it," Tara said.

"I'll take your word for it," Willow said, impressed. "You could see that? I just saw a dot, and I'm not even sure I saw that."

"I saw its wings," Tara said, "and I felt it. It was like a bird of prey, but…hateful. Birds don't hate, they just hunt because it's how they live."

"How could you sense that?" Willow asked, getting to her feet and handing Tara her spear back. Tara shrugged.

"Instinct," she said, "the way it moved. I'm not really sure." Willow leant against her back and hugged her.

"You're a woman of many talents," she said reassuringly.

"Thanks," Tara said quietly.

"I don't suppose you saw where it landed?" Willow asked.

"Down there a way," Tara said, pointing down the slope.

"We should probably see what it was," Willow said with a frown, "not that I think a skewered demon bird sounds inviting, but we might learn a thing or two if I can figure out what kind of creature it was."

"Well, I'm ready," Tara said, "let's go then." Willow nodded and they set off again, Tara slotting her bow back into place on her back, Willow returning the journal to its pouch. On glancing at Tara, she noticed her looking somewhat disturbed.

"What's up?" Tara blinked at Willow, then shook her head.

"Oh, just thinking," she said, "you know, I was sent here – on the diplomatic mission, I mean – because Solari didn't think I had the 'killer instinct' to be a soldier. I guess she was wrong." She sounded less than pleased, and Willow immediately put a hand on her shoulder, hoping to comfort her.

"You're bothered that you shot a demon?" she asked, hoping for a grin. Tara just shrugged.

"Not really," she said unconvincingly. She glanced at Willow and saw in her eyes that she hadn't reassured her. "It's just how it happened," she said, "I sensed it, and the moment it was close enough - boom," she mimed firing an arrow. Willow trailed her fingers down Tara's arm and took her hand.

"Why does that bother you?" she asked. "It's not as though it might have been a peaceful demon. There's no such thing. Trust me, I know."

"I know," Tara said, managing a small smile for Willow, "I know…I just never really imagined I could be that…efficient."

"It's not the first time," Willow pointed out gently, "the Carvers that attacked us…"

"That was different," Tara said with a shake of her head, "they were attacking us."

"This one would've," Willow said with certainty. "Believe me, you didn't kill a harmless animal, or something that might've just flown by and left us, or anyone else, alone. Look at me," she insisted, gently halting Tara and turning her so they stood face to face. "It was a demon. I've studied them, I've read the journals of hundreds of sorceresses who've fought them for centuries, and I've seen one of the biggest, nastiest ones right up close. They don't belong here. They don't create, they don't nurture, they don't respect anything that does. They're absolutely not worth feeling the least bit guilty over, especially not when you're out in the wilderness being chased by them, and especially not for the most compassionate, gentle, noble person I have ever known." Tara looked surprised at Willow's vehemence, then an odd, sad smile came over her face.

"Thank you," she said, with a sincere smile.

"You're welcome," Willow replied, brushing the corner of her lips with her thumb. "Better?"

"Better," Tara said gratefully. "I guess…I just needed to hear that. Reassure myself I'm not turning into something I'd rather not be."

"You're not," Willow said as they continued down the hill, "you're so not. You may be coming to terms with the dangers out here, and adapting to them, but you will never, ever become careless with life. I just can't believe you have it in you. And I certainly haven't seen any evidence of it. Trust me, if I did, I wouldn't hide it from you."

"I do trust you," Tara said warmly.

The creature had fallen in a disorderly heap, pierced through the body and quite dead. Willow knelt down to examine it, while Tara maintained a distance that kept her from smelling the black fluid leaking out of it.

"It's a blood hawk," Willow said, "a bit of a big one, according to the texts I've read. Wingspan's almost a meter." She poked it with the tip of her staff, and shrugged as the patch of wing she touched disintegrated into a small puddle of goo. "Yuck. Do you want the arrow back?"

"Um, i-if it's possible without either of us having to touch that thing," Tara said hesitantly.

"I think I can manage that," Willow said, flexing her hand. She directed a stream of condensation down onto the dead creature, freezing it solid. A tiny shard of ice leapt from her palm and struck the icy mass, shattering it into a small pile of cracked pieces, from which Willow withdrew the arrow. She inspected it, aimed a quick burst of cold over the shaft and head to clean off any remaining black blood, then handed it back to Tara, who took it gingerly.

"They're scavengers," Willow explained as they set off, now near the base of the hill and the beginning of the plain, "the small ones feed on dead animals, but once they get bigger they go after larger prey, and living creatures. They're pretty common, not much of a threat on their own. Farmers sometimes organize armed parties to find their nests, where there's usually a bunch of them hanging around. They're not difficult to kill, just pesky. Fast little things, and vicious."

"Have you ever seen one before?" Tara asked.

"Nah," Willow replied, "sketches of them, in the bestiaries the Order keeps in its libraries. One of them had really detailed drawings someone had done of a dead one being dissected, that wasn't exactly the most fun thing I've ever read. Put me off my lunch. They say their claws can be used as charms, but only if you can get them off while they're still alive. Not very powerful anyway."

"What do the nests look like?"

"You'll know if you see one," Willow promised, "big, slimy, pulsating masses of yuck."

"I think I just lost my appetite too," Tara grinned.

"Sorry," Willow said with an apologetic smile. "With luck we won't see one, they don't usually nest on plains anyway. They're supposed to prefer more secluded places, where they won't be easy to find. It's not difficult for half a dozen men to get a few swords and smash up a nest, so they don't build them where they're likely to be found. They're not intelligent at all, but they've got enough animal instinct for that."

"Well, I guess that's one less for some farmer to deal with," Tara said with a glance over her shoulder. In a few paces they reached level ground, and Tara took a deep breath.

"Last stretch," Willow commented.

"Uh-huh," Tara said, "only an hour's walk or so. Do you want to stop for an early lunch, or finish it off now?"

"Let's go for the town," Willow said with a grin, "I wouldn't mind lunch to include a table and hot food, how about you?"

"Lunch including me?" Tara smiled slyly. "I like the sound of that." Willow laughed.

"It doesn't take much to get you thinking vixen-y thoughts, does it?"

"Not when it's you I'm thinking about," Tara replied.

"Well then, let's go," Willow said, looping her arm through Tara's elbow, "the sooner we're there the sooner we can have lunch. And then dessert," she added with a sidelong grin.

The road to the west-most of the villages surrounding Kotram ran away to the south, so Willow and Tara had to skirt around the high wood and earth wall to reach the gate.

"Looks like they're used to keeping trouble at bay," Tara commented, glancing at the protective wall. Hard-packed earth rose up two meters, sharply slanted and reinforced with wooden spikes driven through it. From the top of that, a wall of three meter long trunks rose up, their tips sharpened to points. There were more than a couple of scratches and marks in the wood, but they were big, sturdy trunks, and nowhere in the wall was there any sign of serious damage.

"Suits me fine," Willow said, "I could do with a big wall between me and open ground for a while."

"Me too," Tara agreed, "sleeping under the stars is a lot nicer back home where you can do it without being interrupted by things that go bump in the night."

"Or be interrupted when we're going bump in the night," Willow added, prompting a laugh from Tara.

"Yes, or that-…oh," Tara said, training off as she rounded the reinforced wooden pillar at the side of the gate and looked through, into the village. Willow noticed her expression, incomprehension mixed with shock, and quickly came to her side to see for herself.

"Oh hell," she said flatly. As far as they could see, across the village square, in the tavern, the store-houses, the barns and stables, and the houses and workshops, there was not a soul in sight. The village was completely empty.

Chapter 34

Willow and Tara walked slowly forward, each peering into every alley and doorway inside the gates, searching for any sign of life. A thought occurred to Tara, and she turned around to inspect the gates themselves.

"No damage," she said quietly.

"What?" Willow asked.

"The gates," Tara explained, "there's no damage. No broken timbers, the beam is intact."

"You mean they weren't attacked?"

"Or it was so sudden they didn't have time to bar the gates," Tara frowned. "Can you see any signs of fighting?"

Willow joined Tara in surveying as much of the village as they could see. She pointed out a door here and there that hung open, and venturing closer to the nearest building, a small general store, they saw the latch had been broken, as if the door was kicked in. Inside the shelves were bare, and on the floor lay scattered piles of produce and dry goods. A chair was turned over, several glasses had fallen to the floor and shattered, but among the debris there were no signs of actual fighting - no nicks in the counter to indicate a sword had struck, no furniture or tabletops shattered as if an axe had struck them, no blood stains on the wooden floor.

"What happened?" Willow wondered aloud. Tara shrugged, her worried gaze taking in every detail she could see.

"It looks like the place was abandoned and then looted," she murmured.

"Maybe the townspeople thought it was getting too dangerous out here?" Willow said, picking up a wooden plate and turning it over thoughtfully. "They packed up and went somewhere else? Maybe they're in the keep on the hill?"

"They didn't pack up," Tara said, "they'd have taken the food, not left it here to rot." She poked a moldy loaf of bread with the toe of her boot. "This doesn't make sense, if they were attacked they'd have barred the gates and tried to hold out until help could come."

"Maybe they saw their attackers coming out on the plains," Willow suggested, "they had enough time to get everyone out?" Tara shook her head thoughtfully.

"It takes longer than you'd think to evacuate a village this size," she said, "back home, if we're threatened, all the adults know what to do, who looks after the children and gets them to safety, who packs up all the supplied that can be moved, who helps the elderly…it all has to be planned. For a village like this," she shrugged, "maybe I'm wrong, but it doesn't look like the kind of place where they'd be that prepared to move. It would have taken too long, and unless the enemy was very slow they'd have arrived…there'd at least have been signs of fighting outside, where the rearguard protected the last of the villagers as they escaped."

She checked a handful of the fallen items beneath the shelves, finding the food too spoiled to take, and stood up with a forlorn expression. Willow took her hand and followed her back outside, where they made for a smith's forge a few doors away.

"Maybe they did just decide to leave," Tara went on, though she didn't sound convinced, "maybe they knew about the demons out there, and figured they'd be safer in the keep, and they should leave the village before they were directly under threat."

"What about everything they left behind?" Willow asked. Tara shrugged.

"It's possible they were careless," she said, "I don't know."

"Do you think that's likely?" Willow asked. Tara shook her head morosely. "Me neither," Willow went on, "besides, the Kingsway Highlands had their share of trouble during the Reckoning. They weren't involved in the worst of it, with the Prime Evils, but there were more demons than they could comfortably deal with, according to the records the Order kept. They wouldn't have forgotten how to take care of themselves this quickly."

"It's as if they just," Tara mimed a bubble bursting, "poof! Vanished into thin air." She looked inside the smithy, and her frown deepened. Willow followed her gaze, and her shoulders slumped.

"There's no way anyone would have left this behind," Tara said, leaning over to pick up a sword, half out of its scabbard, from where it had fallen on the ground. She leant the sword against the forge itself, and lay her hand against its stones.

"Cold," she said, "I didn't think anyone had been here for at least a few days, but that confirms it." Willow looked around, counting on her fingers.

"I see at least a dozen scabbards," she said, worried, "but only three swords."

"Looted," Tara said grimly. "Bandits would at least take the scabbards, but…"

"…demons wouldn't bother," Willow finished, "you're right. Carvers have been here, or something like them."

"Goat-men?" Tara suggested, glancing around alertly. Willow shook her head.

"I doubt it," she said, pointing, "look over there, polearms." Tara followed Willow's gaze and saw a stack of simple halberds stacked in a corner. "Goat-men would have taken those, they're supposed to prefer two-handed weapons. Less speed, more power. Probably one of those Carver bands we saw the tracks of up on the ridge." She and Tara returned to the open, and Willow followed Tara across the square to the small village church.

"We shouldn't stay here," Tara said quickly, "but I want to try to find out what happened, why the village is like this."

"Agreed," Willow said, "even if it was Carvers that came through here, that doesn't explain how the village was overrun, or why the gates weren't closed. Besides, there'd have to be a hundred of them before they'd dare attack a place this size. What are we looking for?" Tara pushed open the door of the church and looked around inside, noting the building was largely untouched, though the pews were in places scratched and broken, and one of the tapestries adorning the walls had been torn.

"Back home each of the smaller villages keeps its own records," Tara said, "sort of like a journal of the village's life. They record when visitors pass through, when the harvests are taken in, any notable events, that sort of thing. I want to see if these people kept anything like that."

"Some of the towns we passed through in Entsteig did the same sort of thing," Willow said, joining Tara in searching the long church hall's shelves on either side of the pews, which mostly contained old maps and scrolls. "A few of them had us all sign our names when we stayed the night."

"Here," Tara said after a moment, "this looks likely." She took the last one of a series of identical tomes from a far shelf and opened it on the table at the end of the hall, beneath a wooden Zakarum cross. Willow looked over her shoulder, scanning through the neatly recorded dates and notes, all written in the same heavy hand.

"This is the last one," Tara said, "that's…two weeks ago?"

"Two weeks," Willow agreed, "'Arrival of Tomas, brother of our smith Piter, from Harthim. Excess grain from harvest sent to monastery for safe-keeping.' That must be the monastery up on the hill. That's it?" She turned the next couple of pages, finding them blank. "The blacksmith's brother shows up and they send some food up to the monastery? What about 'Evacuating village now, sorry we missed you'?"

"No pages have been torn out," Tara mused, "and you're right, I'm sure they wouldn't have left without someone at least leaving a record of where they were going." Willow frowned, and absently toyed with a corner of the frayed carpet with her boot.

"Tara?" she asked.

"Yes?"

"What do we do now?" Tara paused, leaned against the table, and thought for a moment.

"We'll check the monastery," she said, "if a rider from the caravan came here and found the place like this, that's where he'd have gone. If not…" she trailed off.

"What?" Willow asked nervously.

"I don't know," Tara admitted, "something's not right. If this happened two weeks ago, but they didn't know about it in Harthim - and I'm sure they'd have mentioned it if they did - that means no-one from here reached there. If they went to the monastery to hide, surely they'd have sent a rider to the nearest safe town."

"The monastery?" Willow asked. "It's stone, and those places are built like fortresses, the demons can't have got in there…could they?" Tara shook her head again.

"I don't know," she repeated. "If the monastery isn't safe, I think we should head for the river, and try to get on a boat going to Duncraig."

"Not Harthim?" Willow asked.

"It's four days to Harthim from here," Tara said, "that's if we take the road, which leaves us visible. If we go across country, maybe five days. The river is only two days away, and you saw how many boats are traveling along it. I think that's what we should do."

"Okay," Willow agreed, "then that's what we'll do." Tara nodded, took Willow's hand, and together they left the church.

"Wait a moment," Tara said as they reached the street, "we should check the stores, just in case there's dried food we can take. We might run low on rations if we have to make for the river." Willow nodded, and they moved towards a pair of storehouses on either side of the road, just beyond the square. Willow poked her head through the door, which hung ajar, and found the shelves had been swept clean, their former contents scattered on the ground, barrels broken open, sacks of grain slashed. A cursory examination yielded nothing worth taking, so she sighed and came back to the door.

She saw Tara leaning on the wall of the building she had gone into, breathing deeply and staring off into the sky. Tara's eyes fixed on Willow, and she quickly came to meet her halfway across the street, taking her shoulders.

"We h-have to l-leave," she said, as Willow glanced at the door of the storehouse behind her.

"Tara?" she asked. "What's wrong? What's in there?"

"Th-the people," Tara said in a haunted voice.

"What?" Willow exclaimed, keeping her voice down. She ducked around Tara, making for the door, but Tara's hand closed around her arm and held her in a grip that, gentle as it was, was unbreakable.

"They're dead," Tara said quietly. Willow studied her expression, and a chill crept over her.

"What…" she began. Tara shook her head.

"Let's just go," she said. Willow nodded, and they jogged towards the village gates. Tara stopped in her tracks as they were almost at the gate, holding out an arm to stop Willow, who almost ran into her.

"Something's out there," she said at Willow's confused look, "I'm not sure what…I think it might be Carvers."

"How many?" Willow whispered. Tara closed her eyes, and Willow held herself still, not wanting to interfere with Tara's concentration.

"Lots," Tara said darkly, "to the south, coming this way." She cautiously edged to the gate and peered around it.

"Damn," she said quietly, pulling back. Willow looked, keeping herself as much out of sight as she could. On the horizon, spread out on either side of the road leading away from the village, dark shapes were moving closer. She saw a pair of crude banners raised on standards, flapping in the breeze, and on either side, a hundred meters or so distant from the main group, small handfuls of the creatures kept pace with them.

"Will they see us?" Willow wondered. "They move faster than goat-men, I don't think we'll outrun them."

"If we go out, we'll have to fight," Tara said as Willow ducked back. "They're too far spread out to miss us, and it's open ground anyway, they're sure to see us."

"Can we take that many?" Willow asked. "I think there's two old ones, probably magic users. It might take a minute or two for me to get rid of them."

"I'm not sure I can hold off the others for that long," Tara said quickly. "Do these villages have a back gate? They can't just have the one gate, can they?"

"I don't know," Willow said, "come on, let's find out while we've got time. If we have to fight, we'd be better off in here, where they won't be able to come at us all at once." She and Tara took off at a run, dodging between the church and the village tavern, through an alley, into the street running behind them, and between a pair of houses. Beyond those were crude sheds, intended only to keep stores dry and out of the wind, and they backed onto the village's wall.

"Hell," Tara swore uncharacteristically.

"Where's the back gate?" Willow complained, looking frantically from side to side. "You've got to have a back gate, otherwise you get trapped in when someone shows up and lays siege to the place and damn it!"

"I don't see anything we could use to climb over," Tara said quickly. Willow turned around, her back to the earth wall, and thought furiously.

"Okay," she said, her brow furrowed, "Carvers have already been here, right? And there's a bunch of them coming. What're the odds it's two separate groups?"

"No way to tell," Tara said, "there might be more than one band of them, or it might just be the same one coming back. Why would they come back?"

"They sometimes take over abandoned towns," Willow explained briefly, "for protection during the day, and to store food. If it's the same band as looted the place originally, that means they won't stay, they'll leave again once it's dark, and we'll be able to get out safely once they're gone!"

"You mean hide?" Tara asked, skeptical. "Would it be safe? What if they find us?" Willow took her hand and led her back between the storehouses, towards the village square.

"I think I saw a trapdoor in the church," she said, "it hadn't been disturbed. They think the place is deserted, they won't search it again. We haven't left any trace of us being here, have we?"

"Not much," Tara said, her mind working fast, "maybe a footprint, a couple of things moved…we took that book off its shelf."

"They won't notice," Willow said, "I'm sure they won't, Carvers aren't smart enough to notice things like that, I'm sure." They reached the square and darted inside the church, running along between the pews to the end of the hall. Willow reached for the carpet, hesitated, grabbed the book and shoved it back on its shelf, then bent down and drew the carpet back. Beneath there was a trapdoor, made from heavy wood bracketed with iron, unscarred and dusty around the heavy iron ring that would open it. Together they managed to heave the door open, and Tara held it while Willow stepped onto the sturdy ladder within and looked down.

"Nothing's damaged down here," she said, turning back to Tara and helping hold the door. "What do you think?" Tara thought for a moment.

"It's our best option," she said, "I don't think we can get out without being seen, and the odds aren't in our favor in a running battle. Can you hold the door for a moment?" Willow braced herself and kept the door open, while Tara dragged the carpet up over it. Handing Willow her spear, she climbed with her onto the ladder, and slowly they lowered the trapdoor down as they descended.

"I can hear them," Tara said softly, "at the gate. I think they're coming in." She reached over and tugged on the edges of the rug, hanging over the sides of the door, straightening it so it would lie flat, as it had been before, once the door was shut.

"Their eyesight's decent, but they can't smell or hear too well," Willow whispered, "so long as they don't see us we'll be alright."

"Memorize the cellar," Tara said, "there won't be much light, not enough for you to see by."

"You?" Willow asked, glancing down, noting the positions of barrels, crates and the walls relative to the bottom of the ladder.

"Maybe," Tara said, "a little. Not much."

"Mind your fingers," Willow warned, as Tara reached through the narrowing gap between the floor and the lowering trapdoor, ensuring there would be no evidence the carpet had been moved. Tara gave a thumbs-up, and together they gently lowered the door closed, plunging the cellar into darkness.

Moving carefully, testing each step they descended the ladder and finally reached the floor. Tara heard the slight sound as Willow lowered the blankets and satchel she was carrying, and a moment later felt her spear against her hand. She took it and switched it to her other hand, wanting to keep hold of Willow until her eyes adjusted. She blinked in the gloom, finding the light even more elusive than she had thought. On the one hand that was good - the less light was being let in, the fewer cracks there were for a stray sound to escape - but Tara had always found it disconcerting to have to navigate by tracker senses, imagining the shape of her surroundings more by the way the air circulated when she moved. Here and there a tiny shaft of light ventured through the floorboards, but they were few and far between.

She felt Willow turn her hand over, and then a fingertip was tracing against her palm: 's-e-e', then a question mark. Tara blinked again, doing her best to focus her senses, and found she could tell at least where the walls were, as well as get a rough idea what was open space and what was blocked by crates. She traced a 'y' on Willow's palm, and felt a reassuring squeeze of her hand in return.

Tara led Willow across the floor and gently pulled her down, helping her spread out the blankets to provide some comfort as they sat. She carefully laid her spear on the ground, and her bow, memorizing exactly where they were so that she could snatch them up again at a moment's notice.

For a little while all was silent in the hall above them, and only Tara's superior hearing allowed her to detect the faintest hint of movement from the street outside. She felt Willow lean against her, and gratefully put an arm around her shoulders, the close contact between them reassuring her. Then both women tensed as there came the dull sound of claws tapping on wooden floorboards. Tara's hand went to her spear, and she felt a vague sensation of gathering power from Willow beside her. More and more footsteps came, some of them from directly above, but the trapdoor remained undisturbed, and the little cracks of daylight in the floorboards remained cut off abruptly around the door, indicating the carpet hadn't been moved. In spite of the continued presence above them, Tara relaxed a little, and felt Willow do likewise.

Up above there seemed to be some commotion. Snarling and chittering echoed down, a sort of guttural language composed of sharp, harsh sounds, accompanied by what seemed to be a background chorus of hissing from other voices. Occasionally there was a growling shout, and the other voices would join in. Now and then a sharp sound echoed through the cellar, as if something heavy were being rapped on the floor. For a nervous moment Tara wondered if the creatures were testing the floor, looking for cellars such as the one they were in, but when nothing came of it she decided it had to be something else - a gesture of authority? She imagined the old Carvers slamming the hafts of their standards on the ground as they snarled and barked at their tribes.

Being so close to Willow, Tara sensed at once when she moved her arm, and so was not startled when she felt her fingertip on her palm again, tracing letters. She concentrated, having missed the first letter but catching the others: 'l-d,' she traced, then a tap, then 'o-n-e-s,' tap, 'a-r-g-u-i-n-g.' Figuring out Willow's system - the taps were spaces - she re-imagined the scene above, now with two old Carvers growling at each other, as the tribe divided up behind them, snarling support or derision. She realized suddenly that, unless Willow were guessing - and she wouldn't have gone to the trouble of laboriously conveying it to Tara, if it were just a random guess - she must have been able to understand the creatures' language. Tara's respect for the Zann Esu's teaching, already high on the evidence of Willow's broad and often encyclopedic knowledge, increased again.

Up above, the argument seemed to suddenly escalate, with a crash as something - probably one of the pews, Tara guessed - tipped over, to a general accompaniment of growls and shouts. A rhythmic chanting began, raw and primal, accented by the stamping of many clawed feet. A couple of the tiny cracks of light wavered as something passed above them, then a moment later there was a great cheer, and a screech of pain.

Tara pushed her senses as far as they would go, preparing for the possibility that, somehow, the fight above might somehow give away her and Willow's hiding place - a scrabbling claw catching the edge of the carpet, perhaps, or even a falling body breaking a floorboard, though she allowed that was unlikely, given the size of the Carvers, and the sturdy construction of the church hall. She frowned, trying to place something that didn't quite seem right - 'Then again,' she mused to herself, 'what is it supposed to feel like when you're hiding under the floor with demons fighting up above?' Willow seemed to be taking the situation with more calm, remaining alert but not unduly tense at Tara's side.

The combatants seemed to have come to grips properly, to judge by the raucous cheering and shrieking. There was the thud of a body falling, far off to one side of the trapdoor thankfully, a hasty scrambling noise, a brief pause, then a clang of blades. The swords clashed twice more, then there was another pained shriek, and a cheer.

'The same one as got hurt before?' Tara wondered. 'Or are they even now?' She mentally shook herself, reminding herself that it hardly mattered how the duel was going, so long as she and Willow remained undiscovered.

For a few seconds there were only footsteps, and Tara imagined the combatants circling each other, then the noise of the other creatures died down, there was a breathless pause, and a body hit the floor. Tara let out a breath as the silence ended with another cheer, slowly turning into more chanting. She felt Willow lean back against the wall beside her, and acknowledged that the end of the fight above did seem to ease the tension down below. If anything, perhaps now the creatures would be too enthused with cheering the victor to devote any of their marginal brainpower to searching the building any further than they had already done. She relaxed too, and reached around Willow with both arms, holding her close.

"Love you," she whispered in a tiny voice, quite sure the raucous yelling in the hall above would prevent her being overheard. Willow's arm snaked around her waist, her other hand on Tara's arm as it crossed her chest, and she hugged Tara tightly in response.

For the next few minutes they remained still and silent, listening as the sounds above dwindled into chittering exchanges, and the footsteps became fewer. There was a muffled dragging sound and a thud at one point, from roughly where the loser of the combat had fallen, and Tara wondered idly, with black humor, if Carvers buried their dead or ate them. From what she had seen in the storehouse - and she did her best not to dwell on that - they had no compunctions about eating anything else.

Something still nagged her senses, and to keep herself from thinking too much about the Carvers and the fate of the people who had lived in the village above, Tara let her thoughts dwell on the space around her and Willow, wondering what it was she felt. The air was almost still now that neither of them were moving, and she had only the vaguest sense of where the walls and crates were, mostly from the tiny amount light shining through the floorboards above. With a jolt she realized what it was - the air was moving, a tiny, almost imperceptible motion where there should have been none.

Willow's grip tightened as she felt Tara's surprise, and Tara took a moment to reassure her silently, stroking her side and back. She felt Willow's head, tucked in against her shoulder, nod once, and returned her attention to the tremor in the air. For a moment she wondered if, unlikely though it was, there was something else in the cellar with them, but she immediately discarded that thought - the motion was too regular. It was almost like - Tara frowned in thought - like a breeze, the kind of thing that, had she been outside, she would have ignored without even thinking about it, filtering it out so that she could more readily sense other things. 'But in here,' she thought, 'there shouldn't be any breeze at all. You don't get breezes in sealed cellars, only in…tunnels,' she finished with a widening of her eyes. She gently took Willow's hand.

'W-a-i-t,' she traced on it, feeling Willow nod again that she understood. Making no sound at all Tara extracted herself from Willow's arms and got to her feet, picking up her spear just in case. She took a step forward, then another, and suddenly she could actually feel the air moving against her face. She turned towards the movement, and gingerly walked towards the wall of the cellar, slowly feeling her way with each step just in case there was some obstruction on the ground she hadn't already detected.

She came to the wall and, holding the spear in the crook of one arm, laid both her palms on it and felt around experimentally. She worked her way along the stone surface, following the tiny breeze, until she reached a stack of crates. She slipped her hand between them and the wall, and with a start felt her fingers touch wood, not stone, behind them. She felt around for a moment, tracing the edge of the wood, where it met the stone - it was sturdy, thick… she felt cold metal under her fingers, and examining it in the dark, realized it was a hinge. A door.

Quickly she returned to Willow, gently taking her hand as she saw, by a thin ray of light, Willow sensing her approach and reaching out for her. She sat down and curled Willow's fingers over, except for one which she pointed at the crates, then she opened her hand and traced 'd-o-o-r.'

Willow kept herself calm, but Tara could nevertheless feel her sudden excitement. Willow guided her hand first to her own chest, then Tara's, then pointed both their hands where Tara had indicated. Tara drew their joined hands to her cheek and, when they were touching, nodded so Willow could feel it. Together they stood and moved over to the stack of crates concealing the doorway.

Tara guided Willow's hands to the concealed doorway, and waited as she examined it. Willow turned back to her, taking her hand, and touched it to the crates. Tara nodded, forgetting that Willow likely couldn't see her at all, and moved to the other side of the stack. Careful not to make any noise, she lifted the first of the three crates off the other two, feeling Willow lifting the other side of it. Slowly, tentatively guided by each other's movements, they moved a few paces away from the wall and gingerly lowered their burden to the ground.

It was the work of a few moments to move the other two crates, and then Tara and Willow both traced the outline of the revealed door with their fingers. There was no latch, but when Tara experimentally put her weight against the door and pushed, it shifted slightly. Willow felt the heavy door move, and joined Tara in pushing against it. Together they managed to open it inwards about a third of its travel, before Tara froze as the hinges let out a warning creak. Willow's hands flew off the door as if it were hot, and Tara knew they couldn't risk moving it any further. With one hand on the edge of the door and one on the stone wall of the tunnel, she guessed there was just enough space to slip through the gap.

She took Willow's hand and together they went back to where they had left their blankets and bags, gathering them up quickly and quietly. Tara went through the door first, spear held protectively in front of her, and let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding as she managed to wriggle through without causing more than a tiny scratching sound between the back of her armor and the wall. She reached through the door and took the bags that Willow handed to her, setting them down around her feet as she learned what she could of the tunnel she had stepped into.

The breeze flowing through the tunnel was steady and, now that she was through the door, quite strong. Tara had a sensation of a long space ahead of her, and the air had a chilly bite to it that made her think of subterranean caverns. She bent down and felt the floor, finding it smooth and, more surprisingly, paved. Feeling around, Tara felt a strange indentation in one of the pavers, far too regularly-formed to have been caused by wear or damage, but otherwise there were no irregularities in the surface. She stood again as she felt Willow slip through the doorway behind her.

"What is it?" Willow asked in a whisper, after taking Tara's arm and guiding her behind the door, to contain the sound as much as possible.

"I don't know," Tara whispered in reply, "catacombs?"

"I wouldn't have thought so in a village this size," Willow said. "Do you see any tombs? In the walls maybe?"

"I can't see much," Tara murmured, "just feel the air moving." For a moment she was silent, then Willow grabbed her arm excitedly.

"Back gate," she whispered, "if there's air moving, this has to come out somewhere, right?"

"Uh-huh," Tara confirmed.

"This must be the back gate," Willow went on, "it's a tunnel to outside the village, so they can't be trapped in!"

"Help me close the door," Tara said, "we'll move the crates back then close the door behind them. Even if those things find the cellar, they might not search it too carefully, and that'll buy us time."

"Okay," Willow said, in lieu of a nod. Together they carefully moved the crates back as close as they could, risking a scraping sound now and then as they pulled all three close to the wall once they had both scrambled back through the doorway. The hinges let out a tiny creak as they started to move, but then the door swung back into place silently. Pushing against the back of it, Tara felt an odd feature, a wooden beam attached vertically to the door.

"Wait a moment," she said as Willow turned away. She heard Willow stop, but she didn't seem alarmed - probably because Tara had sounded more curious than concerned. Tara ran her hands over the door, feeling the shape of the strange attachment. She found hinges at the bottom and a latch at the top, and with a dawning understanding of its purpose she undid the latch and lowered the beam, feeling its base nudge up against the surface of the door just as the end slid into the indentation carved in the floor.

"It braces the door shut," she explained, guiding Willow's hands to the beam, "do you think it'll hold a Carver?"

"Definitely," Willow whispered, "there's no way they could break through, not without a battering ram. Maybe the old one could blast it in with fire, but I wouldn't be surprised if it brought the whole cellar and the entrance to the tunnel down as well. Fire's tricky to control, and they don't make good mages."

"We should move on," Tara said, "put some distance between us and them. With luck, even if they do find the cellar and get through the door, we'll have enough of a head start." They picked up their belongings and, Tara leading the way, walked into the darkness.

Chapter 35

"How far have we gone?" Willow asked quietly. She felt they were far enough from the church cellar to relax a little, but without landmarks to guide her she had thoroughly lost track of the distance they had covered in the dry, cool tunnel.

"A quarter of a mile, I think," Tara replied.

"We're heading east, right?"

"Roughly," Tara guessed, "the tunnel's turned a little here and there, but I don't think it's turning far away from where it was heading at the start."

"Do you think we're heading for the monastery?" Willow asked. Tara shrugged, despite the fact that Willow had no way of seeing her.

"We're going in the right direction," she said hesitantly, "this tunnel looks fairly new, though. Not that I'm an expert in tunnels. Or stonework," she added as an afterthought. Willow heard the slight tremble in her voice.

"You okay?"

"Just a bit out of my element," Tara admitted, "I haven't spent much time underground…actually, none. It's very different to what I'm used to. No open spaces…I guess I feel a little, I don't know, enclosed? Normally I'd have a vague sense of the world around me, t-the trees, the animals, everything moving and…living. All I can sense here is the earth, and it's…it's all packed in close around us. Like it's closing in, slowly…it isn't," she hastened to reassure Willow, "the tunnels the same size it was back in the church…it's just me. Comes from living in the trees, I guess. I'll be fine, it's nothing worth bothering about."

"Hey," Willow said gently, "if it upsets you, it's worth bothering about. It is for me, anyway. Come here." Tara hesitated a moment, then gratefully turned into Willow's arms, resting her head on Willow's shoulder.

"It's alright," Willow soothed her, "trust me, I know. The first seven years of my life I lived in a village that had exactly one cellar, and there wasn't even a trapdoor covering it. Then I went to the Order, and the Church city has catacombs like you wouldn't believe. I wasn't exactly a picture of calm composure the first time I was taken down to the vault libraries, even with half a dozen other girls chattering away beside me."

"You're not bothered by this," Tara said quietly, not sensing in Willow the tension she felt in herself.

"Not now," Willow admitted, "but it took time to get used to it." She gently stroked Tara's back through her armor. "I love you," she whispered, "I promise, you're gonna be okay. I won't let anything happen to you."

"Thank you," Tara murmured, "I-I'm sorry, it shouldn't bother me…"

"No, don't be sorry," Willow said, "I don't need you to, to pretend you're some invincible, fearless superwoman. I just need you."

"You've got me," Tara said with complete sincerity.

"I know," Willow murmured, smiling as she rested her cheek on Tara's head, feeling the softness of her hair. "I know." Tara gave her a tender squeeze around the waist, then reluctantly stood back, taking Willow's hand again.

"I think there's something up ahead," she said, her voice firmer than before, "it's not blocking the tunnel, but the air's disturbed. We should keep moving."

"Right," Willow agreed.

"S-so, you got used to the underground?" Tara asked lightly. Willow could tell she was distracting herself from whatever remnant of unease she still felt, and was more than happy to help.

"Oh, yeah, after a while. I mean, I didn't have much choice, all the good stuff is kept in the vault libraries. It's the ground, you see, the city is built on a magical node - Kehjistan's full of them, that's why all the mage orders are based there. The one the Zann Esu found is a convergence of elemental energy, and the Church is in the middle of the city, right on top of the middle of the node's central spiral. Mostly it makes it much easier to draw and control elemental power, though there are a few places in the node that actually disrupt it. We use those for training, if you can cast and hold a spell in the middle of a disruption point, you'll never have any trouble doing it anywhere else. Anyway, the vault libraries are where the Order keeps the most valuable books and artifacts, which are usually the magically active ones, so there's all sorts of protective spells built into the vaults to keep everything safe. Otherwise, you know, all sorts of things might happen. Heh, I once heard a rumor that one of the books on demonology in the vault sanctum - that's where we keep the *really* dangerous stuff - can read its own spells in the right conditions. Eclipses, planetary alignments, that sort of thing. Mind you, that was just a rumor that went around the trainees, it's not like it was one of the tutors telling us that, so maybe someone just made it up. There's powerful stuff down there, though."

"And the node keeps it safe?" Tara asked.

"The vaults are built at the center of the node," Willow explained, "not just on top of it, but actually in the center, horizontally and vertically. Except the very center, there's one chamber that no-one but the Council Seers are allowed into, right in the middle of the vaults. But around that, in the vault libraries, the node's power sustains the protective spells. See, for a protective spell to work, it has to expend energy - if you've got, say, a little magical gizmo like a, a rune wheel, that is set up to cast a spell when it's turned, then a protective spell to stop that working has to have as much power as the wheel does. They cancel each other out. A really good protective spell can cancel exactly the magic that's within it, so it doesn't need any more power - a crude one just dampens down everything indiscriminately, that needs a lot more power - but even so, you always need at least as much power as you're trying to stop. So normally, you cast a protective spell and put as much power as you can into it, and it keeps going until it runs out. Assuming whatever's within it doesn't run out of power first. Some of the stuff in the vault sanctum dates back to the Sin Wars, and it's still active, so it's not looking like we can relax the spells around them anytime soon." She heard Tara chuckle.

"Anyway, the node feeds elemental power directly into the spells cast within it. It's really tricky to do, though, whoever first cast some of those spells was a genius, but basically they'll keep going until the node itself is exhausted."

"How long is that?" Tara asked.

"Best guess, the end of time," Willow replied. "Nodes aren't just deposits of magic, like iron that you mine out of a mountain. They're places where magic collects. Whenever a spell is cast, the energy behind it doesn't just get used up, it transmutes into a different form. Like, if you cast a fireball, you take elemental fire energy - primal energy - and turn it into actual heat. So, over the whole of the world, the total amount of actual heat increases. But the world doesn't let itself get unbalanced, so an infinitesimal amount of heat, over the whole world, transmutes back into elemental heat to balance the scales."

"And that energy collects in nodes?" Tara added.

"Yep," Willow said, "in the case of elemental energy it collects in the node beneath the Order's city, and flows slowly back out into the rest of the world from there. There's nodes for all kinds of energy - elemental, prime, druidic, alchemical transmutation energy, astrological, even necromantic, which must be a fun place," she added with a wry grin.

"Even demonic?" Tara asked.

"Ah, that's the problem," Willow smiled. "Not much gets past you, does it?"

"I do my best to keep up," Tara said shyly.

"You do a lot better than just keep up," Willow said sincerely. "No, there aren't nodes for demonic energy. There are places where it's strengthened, but they're artificial, created by demonologists, or by the demons themselves during the Sin Wars. See, demonic energy isn't a part of Sanctuary. It comes from the burning hells, and when demons use energy, particularly when they cast powerful spells, but even just by existing, they unbalance the world."

"But there's quite a few demons living here," Tara pointed out, "we seem to have a knack for running into them…"

"Yeah," Willow agreed ruefully.

"So, the world is being damaged all the time?"

"Yes and no," Willow said, "yes, they unbalance the world just by existing, but no, we're not on an inevitable slide to the whole place falling apart. Holy magic balances the scales. Everything has its opposite, so when a demon casts a spell, the damage that does to the world is undone by a mage using holy magic. Like you, for example," she added, squeezing Tara's hand.

"Me?" Tara asked, surprised.

"The power you cast comes from your gods," Willow said, "that's holy magic."

"I…well, yes," Tara corrected herself, "I just never really thought of myself as a mage, that's all."

"There's a lot more magic around that most people realize," Willow said. "I mean, most warriors who train really hard could be considered mages. When they concentrate, and become faster or stronger than you'd think possible, they're using a tiny amount of prime magic. I'm sure you do, even though you don't realize it. Craftsmen who can do work so delicate it's almost impossible to see, athletes who push themselves beyond what a body should be capable of. Blacksmiths often have a little fire magic to them. Mostly it's prime magic that gets used without people realizing it, seeing as it's really just the energy of being alive, and it's kind of instinctive to tap into it, if you really try. But no-one's really cut off from any of the energies in the world. There's people who are more attuned to it, like me with cold, and I think you're probably a lot more attuned to prime energy than most people. Maybe even druidic energy, with all that ability to sense the natural world you have."

"I'm a druid now?" Tara asked, with a slight note of incredulity creeping into her voice. Willow could imagine her lop-sided smile.

"You're many things," she said, "and incidentally, I'm in love with all of them." She felt Tara lift her hand, and her lips press against her palm.

"All of the things that I am are in love with you, too," Tara said warmly. Willow felt a tremendous urge to hug her and kiss her endlessly, but acknowledged - reluctantly - that this was neither the time nor the place.

"Druid, huh?" Tara asked, humor lightening her voice.

"You never know," Willow said.

"So, does that mean I should dance naked under the stars during a full moon?" Willow blushed, glad of the darkness to hide it.

"I'm not sure if you *have* to," she said, "but, you know, if you want to, I'm up for some moonlight dancing."

"I'll keep that in mind," Tara promised. Willow shivered involuntarily, trying to put the image Tara's low purr conjured out of her mind. A few steps later Tara halted.

"What's up?" Willow asked.

"I've found what's disturbing the air flow," Tara said with a grim voice, "there's an iron gate. Here." She guided Willow's hands forward, and Willow felt the shape of a barred gate blocking the tunnel. She set to work examining it, running her hands across all its surfaces, and as far as she could reach on the other side.

"Can you feel a latch?" Tara asked. "A bolt? Lock? Anything?"

"Nothing," Willow grumbled, "that doesn't make sense, if this tunnel was for people to escape through, surely it wouldn't be made so they'd have to wait to be let in. What if they were followed?"

"Maybe it's normally left open," Tara mused unhappily.

"But the doorway in the cellar wasn't sealed," Willow frowned, "if people came through here, they'd seal both gates…"

"I could try to blast it open," Tara said, audibly unhappy with the option, "I could hit it from pretty far down the tunnel. If it did weaken it and cause a cave-in, it probably wouldn't reach us, this looks fairly solid…"

"Maybe," Willow mused, leaning against the gate and trying to come up with something better, "or I could try to ice it up and shatter it… iron's pretty good at holding magic, though, it could be a bit risky to judge the amount of power…properly…"

"What?" Tara asked as Willow trailed off.

"I wonder," Willow said to herself, "what if there is an opening mechanism, but we just can't see it?"

"A lever or something?" Tara wondered. "We might have missed it in the dark, could you get a match from my pack?"

"No, an enemy could have torches, they'd see a lever," Willow went on, "but if it were magic…iron holds magic, you could do a simple locking spell with a trigger, and it'd last years before you'd need to re-cast it."

"Do you think a village that size would have a mage?" Tara asked. "Wait, the monastery might…"

"Or they could have paid a traveling mage to do it for them," Willow said quickly, flown with enthusiasm, "it's the kind of thing some mages make a living from, just doing simple things for small towns and so on… hold this?" Tara felt Willow's staff against her hand, and held it while Willow opened a pouch on her belt.

"What are you doing?" Tara asked curiously.

"I've got a scroll with an imbued spell," Willow explained, "it'll let me see any active magic around here. Normally I'd be able to sense it anyway - I wasn't worried about traps, I'd feel anything destructive from a mile off - but a locking spell, a good one, could be subtle enough that it'd need almost no power while it was idle…here it is." Tara heard the faith sound of Willow unrolling one of her tiny scrolls.

"Do you need a match?" she asked. "To read it, I mean?"

"No need," Willow said, "these are all set to cast, I just have to say the coda word while I'm touching the scroll. I memorized them all ages ago…ahem…'allamaraine'."

For a moment Tara saw Willow's face lit by a glow coming from the scroll. The letters on it blazed briefly with their own tiny lights, then seemed to consume themselves, leaving the scroll blank in their wake. After a moment the last trace of writing was gone, and the tunnel was plunged into darkness once more.

"Did it work?" Tara asked.

"Yeah," Willow said, "I can feel it…now, let's see if… here!" Tara felt her reach out, and there was a tiny scraping sound, as she traced her fingertip over the stone of the tunnel's wall. Tara jumped slightly as the gate behind her swung open with a groan.

"Wow," she said, "nice work."

"Yup, we make quite the team, huh?" Willow replied as they stepped through the open gate. "Not that it was anything much, just a simple spell…hey!"

"What?" Tara asked, suddenly alert, though Willow's voice had sounded more surprised than alarmed.

"Your pack's glowing," Willow said.

"It is?" Tara looked over her shoulder, but couldn't see anything.

"No, I mean…any magical power, I see it as light. I can see you, I can see your spear and your bow, my staff-"

"My bow's magic?" Tara asked, surprised.

"Looks like," Willow said, "not as much as the spear…gods, that's one fine piece of work…your pack as well." Tara felt Willow lean closer behind her. "What've you got in the left one of these two little pockets, underneath the main strap?" she asked.

"Left pocket…" Tara hesitated, "I don't know, unless I've picked something up…oh, no, I remember, it's the amulet, isn't it? Marela's amulet?" She felt Willow undo the pocket and reach into it.

"That's it all right," Willow said, "it's not just decorative."

"What does it do?" Tara asked.

"I don't know," Willow admitted, "I can't see anything harmful in it…I don't think she'd have given you anything dangerous anyway."

"No, I don't think so," Tara agreed.

"Well, I could set up a test series, try to narrow it down, but that'd be tricky in the dark. All things being equal, it's probably best to just put it on and see what it does." Tara felt a light surge of protectiveness in her, but she calmed herself at once, remembering the kindness she had sensed in Marela during the afternoon she had spent with the cat woman.

"Do you want me to try it?" she asked nonetheless.

"I'll do it," Willow said easily, "I'm sure it's harmless, but just in case, I've had lots of training at nullifying magic. Okay, let's see what you do…wow."

"What?" Tara asked. She held Willow's hand tightly, and was reassured to feel a calm squeeze in return.

"I can see," Willow said, "it's a bit strange, but I can see…there's no light down here, is there?"

"Nothing," Tara said, "I'm just sensing the air currents, I can't see a thing."

"I can see red," Willow said, "and gray…not other colors though. You look kind of bright pink…heh, so do I," she laughed, and the sound of her amusement did a lot to help Tara relax.

"How far can you see?" she asked.

"Pretty far," Willow said, "I guess, as far as I could if it was daylight down here…the tunnel turns a bit up ahead. You're not missing much, it's pretty plain. Hang on." Tara felt Willow reach out towards the wall again, and heard the gate close behind them.

"I'd like to see a Carver get through that," Willow said triumphantly.

"It's locked again?"

"Yup. Unless they know where to touch the wall, and what rune to trace, they're not getting that gate to open again. Wow, this is pretty neat. Oh, do you want it? The amulet, I mean."

"You keep it," Tara said, "I can sense the space well enough to walk around. It's better if you can see and I can sense, rather than me seeing and you having to rely on me."

"I don't mind relying on you one bit," Willow said fondly as they walked on, "but I see your point. Once we get back above ground I'm going to have a serious look at this amulet, this is a really good piece of enchanting. Marela must've really liked you. Of course," she added, "I can see her point." Willow glanced at Tara, and noticed a pronounced flush in her cheeks - her temporary night-vision, limited though it was in terms of color, seemed to pick up every detail.

"Well," Tara said hesitantly, "I suppose if she's still in Kingsport next time we visit, I owe her that rub behind the ears she wanted."

"So long as it's *just* a rub behind the ears," Willow smiled. She winked, then remembered Tara couldn't see her, and squeezed her hand instead to let her know she was joking.

"Don't worry," Tara smiled back, once she had felt Willow's gesture, "I'm saving all the good stuff for you."

"Darn right," Willow nodded, leaning over to give Tara a kiss on the cheek. "Heh, you're cute when you blush in cat-vision. Course, you're cute anyway, I guess it's not that much of a revelation…huh? Oh."

"What?"

"The spell just wore off," Willow said.

"The amulet wore out?" Tara asked with a frown.

"No, no, the magic sense spell," Willow explained, "the one I read from the scroll. They only last a little while, you can't get that much power into a scroll that size. Oh well, I've got another couple if we need them. At least it's less distracting now," she finished, more or less to herself.

"How so?" Tara asked.

"Oh," Willow said, grinning at herself, "well…I could see the magic in everything, not just the gate spell. It was a little overwhelming. My staff was this sort of jet black…hole in space, sort of thing. Probably something to do with how it undoes hostile spells, I've never really looked at it using that sight spell before. Your bow was this tingly red all along its length, like there were rubies glittering inside it. As for your spear, hoo boy," Willow laughed, "like looking into the sun, almost, except blue-white rather than yellow. I think whoever made that would be on a level with the Zann Esu for lightning mastery."

"Really?" Tara asked skeptically.

"Really," Willow confirmed, "that spear is a work of art."

"I-I didn't realize how precious it was," Tara said softly, "Solari just…you know, gave it to me, told me to look after it. I mean, I knew it was ancient and important, but she never mentioned anything like this…"

"I can think of someone a lot more precious," Willow said gently, "I bet she thought so too." She watched Tara blush again, and smile widely.

"Y-you said you could see me?" Tara asked after a moment. "With the spell, I mean…is there really power in me?"

"Everyone has power of some sort," Willow said, "even if it's just prime magic that's making them a living thing. You're…there were all these flows of energy, prime magic, a-and what I think was holy magic, and others as well. All flowing through you, a-and harmonizing like…" She hesitated, then leant close to Tara, lowering her voice despite the fact they were completely alone in the tunnel.

"It was the second most beautiful thing I've ever seen," she whispered in Tara's ear.

"Wh-what's the first?" Tara asked, smiling.

"You, silly," Willow grinned. "Just…you. No spell-vision or anything, just you."

"Oh…" Willow saw Tara's mouth open to speak, but that tiny sigh was all that emerged. She remained still as Tara turned to face her and slowly closed the distance between her lips and Willow's. The kiss was gentle, tender and silent, yet it stirred such a rush of desire in Willow that she had serious doubts about her ability to stand upright were it not for Tara's arms around her. Both their mouths opened just a fraction, enough to taste each other, but there was no frenzied motion, no tongues surging between their lips, simply the kiss itself. Willow felt her pulse racing, her skin warming, and her center moistening as love and need bloomed out of her heart.

"Ah," she sighed when Tara finally finished the kiss with a final, tiny suckle on her lip, and leaned back. "Ah…oh…oh, wow…"

"I love you," Tara whispered.

"I know," Willow said emphatically, "oh gods, Tara, I know… I feel it right down to the bottom of my soul, I love you so much…Oh… ooh!" She shivered and shook her head. "Gods, you are a fantastic kisser, you know that?"

"I'm only as good as the woman I kiss," Tara replied with a grin.

"I'm that good?" Willow asked disbelievingly.

"Uh-huh," Tara replied softly.

"Um…well then…" Willow faltered, "I guess…yep. Okay, uh, we should keep going? Um, keep moving, I mean, walking along the tunnel, not keep going in other things which wouldn't really be the most useful of things we could be doing at the moment, even though I'd really love to kiss you for the next, oh, three days or so non-stop…not really the best place to be doing it…so?"

"You're babbling," Tara said fondly.

"I know," Willow replied, "I could stop myself, but you look so adorable watching me…I guess I've kind of taken to doing it on purpose." Tara took her hand and gripped it warmly.

"Lead the way, cat's-eyes," she said. Willow blinked in surprise, then remembered that Tara couldn't see like she could at the moment. She had become somewhat accustomed to Tara having the superior senses, and it was an odd feeling to have the situation reversed. Though, she mused as they walked along side-by-side, for a woman walking in pitch blackness, Tara still appeared to have a considerable degree of perception. Willow noticed her stepping deftly over the gaps left by occasional missing flagstones, and wondered how she was doing it - or if she even realized she was.

"I was wondering," Tara said after a moment, startling Willow out of her own thoughts, "did you actually understand what those creatures were saying, or was it just types of sounds, things like that?"

"Oh, no, they have a language," Willow said, "most demons do, even the really animalistic ones can usually understand one or other of the demon languages, even if they can't speak themselves. Makes them easier to command, I guess. There's seven basic languages used in hell, one for each of the Evils, and hybrids usually inherit the language of their creator. It's all hierarchical. Carvers, so far as anyone knows, were created by servants of the Lord of Terror, so they speak his language. Well, a really crude version of it."

"And you can speak that?" Tara wondered.

"I can't speak it," Willow said, "humans don't have the vocal range…if I had to communicate with a Carver I could probably approximate it well enough to be understood. Not that there's any circumstances where I'd want to say much besides 'have an ice bolt', but you know. The Order teaches us to understand the demon languages though, in case we ever need to. Traditionally, most demons - the smart ones - tend to assume that their languages are impossible for humans to understand, so they aren't very guarded in using them."

"You know all seven languages?" Tara asked, impressed.

"Yeah. The one for the Lord of Lies is pretty tricky to get the hang of, seeing as the whole idea behind it is saying one thing and meaning another, but yeah, I got it eventually. Language training is one of the first things a girl learns with the Zann Esu, as soon as she's deemed fit to be taught about demons in general. We start out with Khejan, if you don't know it already, and pretty much everyone knows Westlin even if it's not their native language. After that we go on to a sort of generalized structural training, which is all about how to recognize parts of language, concepts and relations and stuff. Knowing that makes it much easier to pick up a specific language."

"I wondered how you learned High Amazonian so quickly," Tara said.

"Pretty much," Willow grinned. "Once you've got the hang of demon languages, nothing humans come up with seems that difficult." She squeezed Tara's hand tenderly. "It's one of the most beautiful I've learned, though." She was even more glad of her newly-acquired sight when she saw Tara's smile.

"So," Tara said after a pause, "what were they saying?"

"Oh, pretty much what you'd expect. There were two old ones arguing over who should lead them. It's not often you get them in the same tribe, but it happens sometimes - possibly they learned about humans taking apprentices, and sometimes do it themselves, though it's anyone's guess as to why. Maybe it's just mindless mimicry. The challenger thought the leader was foolish - that's bad for a Carver, they don't care about courage at all, but being smart is all that keeps them from being wiped out mostly, so a leader who gets his followers killed isn't likely to last very long. They don't really have a concept of the greater good, except that they know they can't fight people on their own. I think they might have attacked Harthim, or maybe a smaller town south of here, but wherever it was they got driven back and ran away."

"Good," Tara said.

"The challenger said it was the leader's fault, that they shouldn't have tried to attack a strong town. The leader said it was the challenger's fault, and that he wasn't smart enough. That pretty much started the fight, after that it was just a bunch of swearing. Demons have a lot of really elaborate curses, by the way. Some of the stuff they yelled at each other when they were fighting was about as eloquent as a Carver can get. I guess it tells you a lot about them that what they do best is swear." Tara chuckled in agreement, then had a thought.

"Did they say anything about what happened to the village? This one, I mean, not Harthim."

"Nothing useful," Willow said ruefully, "I really don't think it was Carvers that did it though. I can't see them moving the bodies, or attacking in the first place for that matter. Probably it was finding the place empty and all the people dead that got them ambitious enough to try to attack Harthim in the first place."

"I wonder what did happen," Tara mused.

"I don't know," Willow replied, "but I'm not letting my guard down anytime soon, I'll tell you that."

"Me neither," Tara agreed. "Are the walls more irregular ahead? The air's disturbed."

"Tombs," Willow said briefly, "we're coming up to proper catacombs. I'm guessing this will lead beneath the monastery. Some of those old places have pretty impressive earthworks buried beneath them."

"We're still about half a mile away," Tara guessed.

"These look new," Willow said, glancing at the shelves cut into the rock on either side of them as they walked on. Each contained a body, most wrapped in layers of thick cloth, some with iron or stone masks covering their heads. A rare one now and then would be contained in an elaborate stone coffin, some with scenes of battle and angels worked into them, others with life-sized depictions of sleeping warriors, swords in hand, presumably to represent the deceased.

"Hold on a moment," Willow asked, crouching down as Tara stopped beside her to read the inscription on the side of a particularly elaborate coffin.

"'Macharius, brother-lieutenant of the Order of Guardians'," she read, translating from the old Imperial language, not spoken in centuries but still traditionally used in religious documents and memorials, "'died the eighth day of Montaht, year of the Archangel fifteen-thirty-six.' That's the Zakarum calendar, that's…twenty years ago, the Reckoning."

"He was a warrior," Tara guessed. Willow studied the engraving, which showed a grim-looking man, his face marred by a scar running down his left cheek.

"Looks like," she said, "the sculpture has him in full plate armor. Possibly the armor he wore, or maybe just traditional for burial statues of warriors of his Order, it's pretty elaborate for a lieutenant. Sword and shield…" She peered closer. "There are little figures of dead demons carved around the edge of the coffin lid. Carvers, goat-men, skeletons, liches…"

"His enemies," Tara said, "he died fighting demons."

"You're probably right," Willow mused, "by the looks of things, he didn't make it easy for them either. Rest well," she added respectfully. Tara nodded, and they continued further into the catacombs.

"Probably the oldest graves are right beneath the monastery," Willow thought aloud, "and they expanded outwards over the centuries. Order of Guardians, huh? Makes sense, before the rise of the western kingdoms places like monasteries were havens for villagers from miles around. The religious orders were the only groups with enough influence and money to build such big stone buildings, so they made them like fortresses, and whenever there was trouble everyone would get inside the monastery, or the abbey or whatever they had."

"Hence the tunnels," Tara added.

"Yeah," Willow agreed, "the tunnel itself looks older than the graves, probably it was dug sometime long ago, before the Reckoning definitely. Orders like this often build huge catacombs to bury their dead. They say the Zakarum cathedral in Kurast city last expanded its catacombs five hundred years ago, and they still haven't filled them up. And they've been involved in just about every holy war there's been," she added, "they were kind of zealous until the reformations began a hundred years ago. Are you okay?"

"Fine," said Tara, "why?"

"Just wondering," Willow said, "you know, with not liking being underground…I thought maybe the place turning into a giant graveyard might not be helping things."

"Oh," Tara smiled, "no, I'm fine…it's actually comforting in a way. This is a, a warrior place. They believed in good over evil, and stood up to defend the people who relied on them. I guess it feels a little more familiar, now we know the people who built it had that in common with us."

"Okay," Willow said, happy to see Tara more at ease. Personally she could have done without the profusion of graves, but it wasn't anything she hadn't seen before - the tunnels leading to the Zann Esu vault libraries were home to their share of tombs of sorceresses from ages past.

A short while later she gently drew Tara to a halt, noticing a small archway carved in the rock on one side. Crouching and peering inside, she found it to be a room containing several graves, each in its own shelf in the walls, all of them more elaborate than those in the tunnel.

"Must be some more notable people," she said to Tara, "what time is it, do you think?"

"I think, maybe near sunset," Tara guessed.

"Do you think we should get some rest?" Willow asked. "It doesn't look like anyone's been along this tunnel recently, but if it did we'd be as safe in here as anywhere. We can't be far from the monastery now, and just between you and me, I'd rather it be daylight when we get there."

"Yeah," Tara agreed, "okay." Willow helped Tara inside the small room, and guided her as she felt the limits of the walls. As it turned out, it was just wide enough for Tara to lie down without her head or feet bumping the walls. Willow helped her unpack the blankets, and insisted she rest first.

"You barely got any sleep last night," she said, "and you've been on your feet since then. Don't worry, I'll wake you and get some sleep myself."

"Alright," Tara allowed.

"I'm going to put a sentry spell out in the tunnel," Willow said, selecting the necessary runes from her pouches, "I'll just be a moment, okay?"

"Okay," Tara smiled. Willow could see Tara was a little anxious at letting her out of her sight - or rather, her senses.

"Tell you what," she suggested, "if you think you can risk hearing my singing, I'll sing a song for you so you can hear me until I'm done."

"I'd like that," Tara said with a gentle smile.

"Okay, but just remember, you're the one with the singing voice. Don't say I didn't warn you."

Despite her warnings, Tara found Willow's voice soothingly gentle as lilted along the simple notes of her song. She lay down and listened as Willow sang softly, just loud enough for her voice to carry back to Tara.

"A lonely minstrel girl was she,
Of face and voice most heavenly,
And when she sang my heart did sway,
Until the day she went away.

"To save my heart from being torn,
I left the town where I was born,
Through places strange and far away,
I followed on my minstrel's way.

"Though my days were hard and long,
Each night I heard my minstrel's song,
'Cross mountains high and valleys low,
It showed to me the way to go."

Tara heard and sensed Willow approach her, and smiled as she felt her hair being stroked.

"That's pretty," she murmured.

"Just don't ask me to sing anything difficult," Willow chuckled. Tara smiled and settled down to sleep. "It's supposed to be 'A lonely minstrel boy was he'," Willow added, "but I like this version better."

"Mmm," Tara agreed sleepily. Willow sat by her, gently stroking her fingers through her hair, and the last thing Tara heard before she slipped into sleep was Willow singing:

"At last I found my minstrel girl,
Who held my heart and all my joy,
And seeing my heart's empty space,
She gave me hers to take its place."

Chapter 36

Tara awoke gently, feeling quite refreshed. A feeling of warmth in her localized itself to the sensation of Willow's lips touching her cheek, and she smiled, imagining the fond, indulgent expression she was sure she would have been seeing, had there been any light.

"Hey," she whispered, gathering her wits from sleep.

"Morning," Willow replied, straightening as Tara sat up and slid her legs out from beneath the blankets.

"Is it?" she asked.

"I don't think so," Willow said, "I think it's sometime in the night, maybe a couple of hours after midnight."

"How long did I sleep?"

"As long as I could manage." Tara heard Willow taking off her boots, then she was lying down, all the while staying in contact with her, by a hand on her arm, or their thighs touching as she slid over the blankets.

"You looked pretty tired," Willow continued, "so, I thought, best if my Amazon gets a proper rest. Big day tomorrow, more catacombs to explore." Tara chuckled at her unenthusiastic tone. "Oh, hey," Willow said suddenly, "you should take the amulet. It's not like I need it to sleep…" Her hand vanished from Tara's arm for a moment, then she was touching her again, finding her hand and pressing the silver chain and amulet into it.

"I just put it on?" Tara asked, already lifting the chain around her neck.

"Yup, that's the…" Willow paused to yawn, "…idea. Hmm."

"Sleep," Tara said gently, "you've been up a long time."

"Yeah," Willow said indistinctly, "you needed sleep though…"

"I did," Tara replied, "I can tell you let me sleep a long time. It's your turn, so we'll both be fresh tomorrow."

"'Kay," Willow murmured, "made some notes in our journal… might be useful…" She yawned again, and Tara leaned down to kiss her just as she started falling asleep. For a few moments she sat still, just watching Willow and smiling. With the vision the amulet gave her, it almost seemed as if the room was bathed in soft daylight. Tara looked around eventually, evaluating her new sight – Willow's scarlet hair and the red-brown of her leathers may have been unchanged, but in other areas she could tell she was not seeing by normal light. She glanced at the feathers of her arrows, sticking out of the open quiver on her pack, and found their blues and greens showed up only as various shades of gray. However, she consoled herself, the amulet needed no light to see by, and thus none of the small room's details were hidden in shadow.

She moved to the small doorway and peeked outside, familiarizing herself with the tunnel now that she could see it, rather than just feel it. Returning to sit beside Willow, she turned her attention to the crypts lining the walls, surprised by their workmanship. Stonework was a rarely-used art among Amazons, and the level of detail in the statues, the realism of the sleeping figures, was quite astonishing. Tara stood again and walked around the perimeter of the room, looking at the faces of the statues, noting the various symbols and decorations. Two of the coffins, judging by their carvings, contained lords of some rank, or so Tara guessed from the coronets and noble garments they were depicted with. The other four in the room were of less nobility, but seemed to be warriors of some note, all with swords held across their chests, shields covering their lower bodies, and either representations of dead foes, or minutely-carved scenes of battle in which the occupants of the coffins were shown wielding swords or halberds against a variety of demons and beasts.

Tara sighed to herself, no longer feeling quite at ease with her surroundings. The stonemasons who had carved the statues of the dead had been skilled at their craft, and at a casual glance it seemed that the old warriors and noblemen were merely sleeping. Or perhaps it was the amulet, she thought, allowing her to see the texture of the rock alone, without the telltale reflection of light that would tell smooth stone from skin. Tara sat down beside Willow and watched her sleep, focusing on the slow rise and fall of her chest. She reached out and, with the utmost care, stroked Willow's cheek with the backs of her fingers, and smiled as Willow sensed it even in her sleep and tilted her head over a fraction, pressing into her hand.

Keeping the still, cold figures of the dead out of her mind, in favor of the very much alive woman beside her, Tara felt warmed herself, and relaxed a little. The journals caught her eye, their own book and Ember's, sitting next to her pack with a pen and inkpot still beside them, and she picked up the book and leafed through the pages, seeing what Willow had written. She found a rough map of the tunnel, with estimates of the distance between the church cellar and the iron gateway, and little markings showing where the crypts started, leading up to the room they were occupying. Tara dipped the pen into the ink and made a few minor corrections to the early part of the map – very minor, she mused, considering that Willow had been effectively blind over that part of the trip. She wondered if the Zann Esu practiced some form of tracker training, but thought it more likely – and consistent with what she already knew – that it was just another example of Willow being remarkably perceptive.

The next couple of pages were filled with notes, summarizing most of what had happened to them since they had been separated from the caravan. Tara nodded as she skimmed over descriptions of the behavior of the goat-men who had chased them, the Carvers in the village, even the blood hawk they had encountered that morning, though in that case there was little to record, and Willow had confined herself to making a couple of rough sketches, with a note to herself to check its wingspan and markings later against 'foul crows' and 'black raptors', whatever those were. Tara noticed a page number scribbled in the margin beside the entry, and on a hunch opened Ember's journal and flipped through the pages, counting as she went. She found the page marked with a scrap of paper, and spent a few minutes reading about the various types of blood hawks and their relatives, which were numerous and uniformly unpleasant.

Tara went back to Willow's writing and studied what she had been thinking after having recorded as much information as she could. Willow seemed to have been pondering the likelihood of the Carvers and goat-men being under the direction of a single leader – 'Ghoul Lord', she wrote at one point, and afterwards tended to use the abbreviation 'GL' whenever she mentioned the theoretical master demon, though in one paragraph she seemed to be pondering whether their adversary might be something else: 'GL = ghouls, but we saw none, except maybe bump-in-the-night monster' (Tara grinned) 'while Carvers suggest something else (skirmishers, drawn to trouble – not part of retinues). Other options: Liche Lord? Human? Blood Clan goat-men often seen in retinues of GL/Night Lords. Carvers just coincidental? Ghouls are slow, poor fighters (used as shields, permit GL to cast against enemies without being attacked). Maybe goat-men used for speed. Was bump-in-the-night a ghoul or a normal undead? How far from self can GL control & maintain subservient ghouls? Maybe goat-men able to travel further, sent to attack us. From where?'

Tara wondered that too, but had to admit to herself that they didn't have enough information to do anything but guess. Later, perhaps, when they had reached safety – Duncraig, if not sooner – then it would be time to take measures to rid the land of the creatures that plagued it. 'The sooner the better,' Tara thought, remembering the people who she had seen dead in the village. She glanced at Willow. 'But for now, let's just get you and me to safety. Somewhere we can lie down and rest together, and not have to worry about keeping watch through the night.'

A note on its own on the right side of the page caught Tara's eye, two page numbers, underlined. She checked Ember's journal, found at the first one another page marked with a paper, and read. It began with the last few lines of whatever Ember had been writing about previously – 'Viz'Jaq-taar shadow disciplines,' according to the title on the page before. After that, though, the next title was 'Order of Guardians', and Tara saw why Willow had noted it. She gave a half-smile – 'She was right,' she thought, 'Ember really has been everywhere and seen everything' – and read on. There was no reference to 'Kotram', but after a few lines it was clear to Tara that Ember had been writing about the same place they were now somewhere beneath.

'Surrounded by five small townships,' she read, 'the monastery of the Order of Guardians serves as haven, fortress and outpost of law in the upper Kingsway Highlands, which fall largely outside the influence of Duncraig's soldiers.' Tara wondered if Duncraig was less intent on protecting its borders than Shan and Kert had thought, or if Ember had been writing at a time when the city's territory was less expansive, and Kotram and Harthim had been isolated from its rule. She shrugged and read on: 'The Order dates back at least as far as the Second Founding, though the records kept by the brother-scribes indicate they may be even older. Unfortunately I have been unable to find earlier documents during my time in the library, but some elements of the monastery's stonework (particularly the catacombs, though I have not gone below first level – brothers mentioned that lower levels were much larger. Must try to find time to explore) seem to date from earlier, perhaps the third century by the Clan calendar. There isn't much left from that time, I wish I had the chance to study this in further detail. I must remember to tell Xanth, this is just the kind of thing she'd spend weeks on. The Order's main self-assigned function is the preservation of law and peace throughout the territory around the monastery, encompassing the surrounding townships, their farmlands and a substantial stretch of the Highlands. Their warriors are well-trained and well-educated, though they have no mages among them, a peculiarity that seems to have its origin somewhere in their history, and endures through ritual rather than attitude. Certainly I have been made to feel welcome, and in general the brothers seem to hold no prejudice against mages, or indeed anyone. More than can be said for most Zakarum-aligned Orders, sadly.

Tara frowned as she read, wondering what they might find when they reached the monastery. She allowed that, with bands of demons moving about freely, the villages surrounding the monastery were not defensible, and the brothers would be more likely to make their stand within the monastery itself. But surely there would have been at least some sign of battle? She couldn't imagine an Order of warriors standing idly by while such weak foes as Carvers – dangerous to her and Willow, but nothing to an organized force – roamed around during the daylight. And then there were the bodies in the village…even a non-believer would try to see that they had a decent burial, so for a religious Order to leave them, for creatures to desecrate…'means they're in no condition to send men to a village barely a mile from their walls,' Tara thought grimly.

She checked the second page number Willow had noted, and found half-way down the page a brief note Ember had written, which by the date – Tara wasn't familiar with the calendar, but she compared the dates on the two entries – was several years later than the first. 'Order of Guardians,' it read, 'during Reckoning, under siege by forces loyal to the Evils. Only a dozen or so brothers remain. Concentrating efforts on rebuilding damaged portions of monastery.' 'Well,' Tara thought, 'that might explain it. How many more brothers could they induct and train since then? Not enough to safeguard the lands around them. Enough to safeguard themselves?' She wasn't even sure of that, but she resolved to be cautious and ready for anything in the morning, when they reached the monastery.

Willow slept soundly and deeply, too tired even for dreams so far as Tara could judge. She felt a pang of regret at having slept so long herself – she could feel, from the way her body felt now compared to her tiredness before she had lain down, that she had been asleep close to eight hours. She reassured herself that it was probably for the best, and that it was far better for Willow to wear herself out a little watching over her in an apparently safe haven underground than for she herself to be tired when her senses and reactions could prove vital. Smiling fondly at Willow, glad at least that her deep slumber kept her safe from bad dreams, Tara waited out the night. Taking into account her guess at how long she had slept, and her best estimate of how long she and Willow had traveled underground – the darkness had seemed to make the time stretch – she figured that it would be best to give Willow six hours sleep, and then hope to reach the monastery and find a passage out of the catacombs during the morning, when the sun was already high. Their experience in the village notwithstanding, Tara felt a lot safer during the day than at night, and if there was danger in the monastery, she felt instinctively that it would be greater in the dark.

Eventually Tara reluctantly decided it was time to wake Willow, for all that she looked ready to sleep through most of the day as well. She had a bite to eat from their supplies while she could see clearly, left some ready for Willow, and finally leaned over her sleeping companion, pressing a kiss to her upturned lips. Willow murmured to herself, moving her lips against Tara's, which Tara found quite enjoyable in itself, then she sensed Willow stirring to consciousness. When she saw Willow's eyes open – gray in the amulet's sight – she began to lean back, but with unexpected vigor for having so recently been sound asleep, Willow's arms went around her waist and pulled her back down, deepening the kiss instead of ending it.

"I thought," Tara said, lifting up for a moment before Willow claimed her mouth again, "you said you," another kiss, "didn't like waking up in the morning?" Willow made a non-committal noise while nibbling on Tara's bottom lip.

"You have this way of making it worthwhile," she admitted when she had finally had her fill of Tara for the moment. "Besides, we don't know how long it'll be before we have another opportunity for proper kissage…best to take advantage of the opportunity when it arises, don't you think?"

"Uh-huh, definitely," Tara agreed, doing her best to ignore her body's demand to stay wrapped around Willow, regardless of the need to get up and get moving. She took a last, long look at Willow, committing her smiling face and tempting form to memory yet again, before removing the amulet and pressing it into Willow's palm.

"Thanks," Willow said, sitting up. "You're okay without it?"

"I'll be fine," Tara assured her, "you need it more. There's rations there if you're hungry." Willow kissed her cheek briefly, then reached over to where Tara had left the food and waterskin. Tara noticed, and was grateful, that Willow was deliberately staying in contact with her all the while, with a hand on her thigh as she leaned over, and leaning back against Tara as she ate, with Tara's arms loosely around her shoulders.

"Getting low on water," Willow commented to herself, and Tara saw a faint blue glow as Willow condensed more out of the air. It lasted a little longer than when she had done it out in the wilderness, and Tara had a moment to see the outlines of Willow's hands and face in the glow.

"The air's dry down here," Willow explained, before Tara could ask, "it takes a little longer to draw the same amount of water out of it."

"Is it more difficult?" Tara asked. "There's probably a well in the monastery, you don't have to keep doing that…"

"It's not a problem," Willow said lightly, "it's just a matter of time, not effort. Besides, I'm not sure I trust the ground water around here. Get too many demons around and their energy starts affecting things."

"They poison the water?"

"Sometimes on purpose," Willow said, "the smart ones, anyway. Sometimes it's just by upsetting nature's balances. I don't know if there's that many demons around, but it's best not to take chances."

"The water we bathed in, in the valley," Tara said, with a worried note in her voice.

"It was fine," Willow said, "I'd have seen any leakage of demonic power."

"I thought it was okay," Tara said, "safe to drink, I mean, not that we did…I didn't realize it could be magically poisoned though."

"I think you probably would have felt it if the water was bad," Willow said, stroking Tara's arm, "magic and nature aren't separate things."

"Good," Tara replied, "I was just wondering, you know. I'd like not to be poisoned too many times while we're out here," she added with a laugh. She was pleased to hear Willow laugh along with her, genuinely, not a forced laugh.

"Drink?" Willow asked, offering Tara the waterskin.

"No thanks, I had some earlier," Tara said, dropping to a covert murmur, "just between you and me, I hope we get above ground and find a bathroom soon."

"Me too," Willow returned, also whispering, "let's make that priority one." They shared a giggle, then Willow gathered up the blankets and helped Tara with her pack.

"Do we have everything?" Tara asked, slightly annoyed at herself for not doing more to prepare when she could still see.

"Pack, bow, spear, staff, blankets, satchel," Willow said to herself, "that's the lot. Shall we?" Tara felt Willow offer her elbow, and looped her arm through it.

After a hundred meters more of walking along the tunnel, which Willow reported was no more interesting than the part they had already traversed, she and Tara encountered the first junction, more a crossroads as another tunnel intersected with theirs, stretching off as far as Willow could see left and right.

"We should keep on the main tunnel, I think," Willow commented, "it's larger, I think the turn-offs are just to reach more tombs. We're more likely to reach the surface this way."

Tara agreed, feeling little in the way of air currents from the other passageways. They continued on their way, passing more and more passages on either side, and even a couple of stairwells, leading only downwards.

"How big do you think these catacombs are?" Tara wondered.

"Could be pretty expansive," Willow said thoughtfully, "you read the entries in Ember's journal?"

"Uh-huh," Tara replied, "do you know if she did ever go down below the first level of catacombs?"

"I don't think so," Willow said with a shrug Tara felt through their linked arms, "at least, if she did she probably would have written about it somewhere, and I didn't find anything except that other note at the end, about the siege during the Reckoning."

"The first level would be how deep underground, from the monastery?"

"Right below it," Willow said, "mostly cellars and stuff, a few crypts. Assuming the place is built along the same lines as the ones in Kurast. The architecture varies, but the layout is usually pretty similar."

"I think we're deeper down," Tara said, "I mean, I've been a little disorientated since we went underground, but I don't think we've gone upwards enough to be right underneath the monastery, especially with it on the hill. We're probably in one of the lower levels."

"I haven't seen any stairways going up yet," Willow mused, "but this tunnel does kind of look like the main thoroughfare…and if the villagers were supposed to come along here, it would've been built so that they wouldn't get lost. I think this'll probably lead us to the stairway sooner or later. Oh, hey, did you feel that?"

"I felt something," Tara said, frowning to herself, "sort of a…like a breeze, but not…"

"Magical field," Willow said, "the library vaults back at the Order are full of them."

"What does it mean?" Tara asked, slowing her pace.

"Probably nothing," Willow said, "it wasn't recent, I could tell that, I don't think anyone but a mage would've felt a thing. Just goes to show you're special, doesn't it?" Tara grinned despite herself. "It's probably just a relic," Willow went on, seriously, "a lot of catacombs and tombs have them, mostly from having the ground sanctified at some point. If the person doing the sanctification is a holy mage, that can leave a trace that takes hundreds of years to fade."

"What does it do?"

"Demons don't like it," Willow explained, as they resumed their earlier pace, "sacred ground won't stop them outright, but it'll give them something to think about. That's part of the reason people go to the town church when they're in trouble. Of course, usually the church is the strongest building anyway, but being on holy ground helps. Carvers would hesitate to cross the boundary. Stronger demons like goat-men wouldn't care particularly, but in a close fight it could tip the scales. You know, if they don't fight quite as hard as they would normally, it can be enough for them to be driven off."

"It makes sense," Tara supposed, "after all, there is a monastery up there."

"Yeah, although Ember said they didn't have any mages," Willow mused. "Maybe they did centuries ago. Or maybe it's left over from something earlier. Maybe I used to be an older church or something, and the monastery was built on top of the old crypts, and they got expanded into catacombs. Some of the temples in Kurast have more than a dozen different layers of architecture underneath them, from older buildings being destroyed and rebuilt. I think there's another stairwell up ahead."

"Going up?" Tara asked, as Willow picked up their pace.

"Going up," Willow happily confirmed, "and hey, look at this…oh, sorry," she corrected herself sheepishly, "um, the paving stones, they're laid out in a different pattern past the stairwell. That must be deliberate, so you can follow the tunnel either way. Just stay on the path the stones show you, and you can go from the stairs all the way through the catacombs to the village tunnel without getting lost."

"Is there a chamber up ahead?" Tara asked. "I think I can feel lots of space…"

"Can't quite make it out," Willow said, "the next archway's only a few meters, you want to take a look?"

"Well you're the one who'd be taking a look," Tara reminded her with a grin. She tugged gently on Willow's elbow, and together they walked to the archway. Tara had a sense of a great space, maybe a cavern – the air was moving naturally, not confined by tight passageways and low arches.

"What is it?" she asked, when Willow remained silent.

"See for yourself," Willow replied in an odd voice, a combination of surprise and awe. Tara felt Willow touch her hand, giving her the amulet, and wondered what was so interesting that Willow would forego her sight – even if just for a moment – just so that Tara could take a look. When she closed the amulet's chain around her neck, it took her a moment to realize that it was working properly, and that her sense of perspective hadn't been distorted.

The archway she and Willow were standing in opened onto a wide balcony, paved with huge stone tiles, each one two meters across, and bordered on either side by thick, square pillars that stretched up to support a ceiling almost ten meters above the floor. Beyond the balcony was the real surprise – beyond a stone railing decorated with gargoyles and angelic figures, massive pillars descended deep into the earth, and between them lay chasms fifty meters deep, the floors below distant and tiny. With Willow's hand in hers Tara slowly approached the railing, staring out across the stone landscape. To either side of her, barely a meter from where she stood, two of the great pillars loomed, their surfaces carved with ancient representations of gods, angels, heroes and beasts. The carvings ran as far as Tara could see – beyond that they blurred into a soft texture covering the stonework, on every pillar she could make out. At irregular intervals their surfaces were broken by archways from which bridges spanned the distances between them, and here and there supporting beams, great masses of stone, angled out into the ground.

"Gods and goddesses," Tara whispered, "who built this?" She peered to either side, trying to find the edge of the great man-made cavern, but the wall curved around, denying her a clear point of reference. Here and there were more balconies, some connected by stairways to passages inside the pillars. She guessed the whole chamber, if it was circular as the wall suggested, was five hundred meters across – larger than any single structure she had ever seen besides her home. And that had been made of wood, built among the trees that had stood for centuries, while this place had been carved out of solid rock, every stone fashioned and moved into place. The engineering, the craftsmanship, the sheer scale of the construction was staggering. She leaned toward the rail a little, careful not to move too far from Willow, who without her sight was holding on to her arm a little tighter than she had before. The floor, fifty meters down, was decorated with ornate archways and statues of all description. The bases of the pillars were all surrounded by tiny moats – tiny from Tara's vantage point, though she guessed they were each half a meter across – filled with still water, or perhaps, she thought as she peered at the shade and reflection, oil of some sort. There were pits here and there, surrounded by railings and spanned by stepped bridges, full of more of the black liquid. Some of the pits were empty and seemed to stretch down forever, so that Tara expected to see the glow of lava and hear the hissing of the fire hydras that legend said lived at the center of the world. That was missing, though – the monumental structure was still and silent.

"Not bad, huh?" Willow said wryly. "I bet Ember'll wish she'd found time to check down below the first level of catacombs. She'll go nuts when I tell her." Tara shook her head, then quickly took off the amulet and handed it back to Willow.

"You sure?" Willow asked. "I don't mind being in the dark a little."

"No, I'm fine," Tara said. She felt Willow's arms move, and the slight relaxation in her as her sight returned.

"If I had to guess, I'd say the brothers were a little late in their estimates. This has got to be second century work, the height of the old Empire."

"How could an empire that could build this fall?" Tara wondered.

"Oh, the usual," Willow said with a shrug, "people getting too attached to power, forgetting what they were supposed to be doing with all that wealth and influence. Fighting amongst themselves. Then the mage wars, of course, but the Empire was in decline even before they started. But this has got to be second century work. Gods, I wish we had time to explore it, I'd love to know which Emperor build this. I can't believe no-one knows about this place, there's barely any structures like this in Kurast, and they've been studied so much there're more books written about them than stones used to build them." She gently led Tara back to the archway, and from there to the stairwell, which seemed positively cramped in comparison.

"What was it?" Tara asked. "I mean…it looked like a whole city."

"Maybe it was once," Willow said. "Not underground, but maybe there used to be an Imperial city above us, and this is all that's left."

"All?" Tara asked incredulously.

"The histories say all the Imperial capitals were like that. Twenty miles across, walls as high as cliffs, towers so tall they reached the clouds…" she trailed off with a shrug as they started climbing the stairs. "There's probably some exaggeration at work. Maybe not as much as people generally think, though. But yeah, the Empire built big, tall and deep. They had the best mages working with them too, it's not surprising there's a magical field down here. Probably just keeping the place intact. The weight of those pillars…" she whistled quietly.

"But what was it?" Tara repeated. "It can't just be their version of cellar?"

"Actually, it probably was," Willow replied. "The buildings that survived in Kurast are on that scale. The Zakarum library is in a temple that used to be an Imperial palace, and that's almost three miles wide, thirty storeys tall…it's pretty impressive."

"Wow," Tara breathed. "And the brothers in the monastery just…use it as catacombs?"

"They probably just left it alone," Willow guessed. "Maybe whoever built the monastery used stone from the ruins up above. But there's no way they could've taken stone out of a vault like that. Not without collapsing the whole thing…or maybe the magic holding it together made it too difficult to take apart anyway, so they just left it. I wonder if they've mapped it?"

"They must have," Tara said, "I mean, they'd…surely they wouldn't live up above and just ignore something like that?"

"They might," Willow said vaguely, "they'd know a few levels of it, to use as store rooms and so on, but as for the rest, there's probably no reason for anyone to go down there. I suppose it's not such an amazing thing if you're used to it. I mean, if you father and his father and his father knew there was a big vault beneath the monastery, and no-one really thought about it, you wouldn't either. It's just…there. Heh, when I was a kid we had a sheepdog on the farm that knew something like thirty different words. Dad would call out to it, telling it where to run, where to guide the sheep, and I just figured that's the way things are. And then I went to the Order, and some of the girls I met were born in cities, and had never seen a dog answer to anything except its own name."

"I suppose," Tara allowed. "Actually, I kind of wish we had time to explore it as well. The stonework, and the scale of it all…it's magnificent."

"Maybe we'll come back here," Willow said, "demon infestations come and go. Once Duncraig finds out about this they'll probably form an expeditionary force and hunt down the Carvers, burn out their lairs. In a couple of years' time, this whole place might be safe again, and we'll be able to take a proper look around next time we pass through." She paused. "What happened to you not liking the underground?"

"That vault hardly counts as an enclosed space," Tara said with a wry grin, "I've seen towns smaller than that."

Willow hadn't noticed any change in the light as they climbed the stairwell, but as they neared the top she felt Tara's hand in hers relax its grip, and noticed her steps on the stairs becoming even surer than they had been. She peered up at the doorway at the top of the stairs, noticing its style was far more everyday, more like a building, than the arches of the two floors of further catacombs they had already passed on their way up.

"Daylight?" she asked.

"Yeah," Tara replied, "I can see."

"I don't see any difference," Willow said, "this thing must replace normal vision rather than add to it." They emerged into a stone room decorated with a handful of statues, monks and saints carved in traditional styles. Though Willow couldn't see sunlight or shadows, the tall glass windows lining one wall obviously looked out onto open ground.

"Morning," Tara said, "four hours after sunrise, maybe. I- yipes!"

"What?" Willow asked, alarmed that Tara had started when their gazes met.

"Your eyes," Tara said, overcoming her surprise and peering at Willow, fascinated.

"What?" Willow said again, smiling slightly, out of relief rather than any understanding of what was going on.

"Th-they look like cat's eyes," Tara said, "I mean, proper cat's eyes…vertical slits, the patterns…"

"You're kidding!" Willow protested. Automatically she reached around her neck and undid the amulet's chain. Color and sunlight returned with a blinding glare, and she squinted for a moment.

"Are you okay?" Tara asked, her arms around Willow protectively.

"Yeah," Willow said quickly, "yeah…just…you know, when you wake up in a dark room and open the shutters and see the sunlight? Like that…" She blinked a few more times until her eyes adjusted to the light. "Now?" she asked, opening her eyes wide for Tara to see.

"Normal," Tara said. "Can I…?" She motioned for the amulet. Willow nodded and handed it to her, watching her eyes closely as she put it on. The instant Tara's hands disappeared behind her neck to join the ends of the chain, the colors in her eyes flowed into a new form, the pupil stretching up and down to form a tall slit, the subtle patterns in each iris shifting, widening, stretching almost from edge to edge of her eyes. It all took barely a second, and when it was done Tara's eyes were still her own, still the marvelous blue Willow saw in her dreams, yet they were as feline as those of a house cat.

"Wow," Willow breathed, "wow, that's…I thought it was just a sensory spell, but this it…I don't even know how that's done, it must be an entirely different branch of magic…some sort of druidic morphic flux, but I've never heard of anything so subtle…"

"How do I look?" Tara joked.

"You look…" Willow hesitated, trying to find the words, "you look…exotic," she finished with an appreciative smile. Tara smiled shyly and took off the amulet again, allowing Willow to study her eyes as they shifted instantly back to their usual human forms.

"Back to plain old me," she said with a lop-sided smile.

"There's nothing plain about you," Willow said, and on a whim she caught Tara around the waist and pulled her close. "You're the woman I love, and your eyes are absolutely…breathtaking," she finished in a whisper, realizing just how true that was as she stared into them.

"In fact," she added, "the only reason I even liked the way you looked was that they were still your eyes. Same storm-blue, same deep, soulful gaze…I wouldn't have it any other way."

"I believe you," Tara murmured, with a smile of pure adoration.

"Good," Willow replied firmly, "'cause if you didn't I'd have to tell you over and over how beautiful you are, and make love to you over and over until you believe it. Of course," she added in an undertone, "I might do that anyway."

"And you call me perfect," Tara said, trailing a finger across Willow's cheek. They stayed like that, embracing and smiling at each other, for a long moment, then Tara blinked and glanced at the door on the far side of the room.

"Come on," she said, reluctantly disengaging from Willow, "let's see what we're up against today."

"Right," Willow agreed, though her smile remained firmly on her lips.

The door opened onto a short corridor, with sunlight streaming through an open archway at the end of it. Beyond that was what seemed to be the monastery's central courtyard, with gothic-style buildings on either side, north and south. To the east a row of smaller, more modern buildings backed onto the high stone wall, while to the west the courtyard extended right to the wall, in the center of which was a gatehouse with a huge wooden doorway, thick and impenetrable. Curtains fluttered in the windows of the buildings, pennants flapped from poles on the walls, but there was not a soul in sight.

"Oh not again," Willow complained, before looking surprised at herself and suppressing her annoyance.

"This isn't like the village," Tara said, "the gate's closed and barred…" Keeping Willow's hand in hers she hurried across the courtyard to the gatehouse, climbing the stairs up to the battlement. She drew up short as she reached the top and looked out over the wall. "Oh damn," she muttered.

Willow stood level with her and looked out at the ground in front of the monastery, where a few dozen bodies, torn and bloody, in stained robes, lay scattered across the road leading to the gate.

Chapter 37

Chapter 41

Tara noticed Amalee looking weary by the time they reached the edge of the valley, where the outskirts of the forest below reached around either side of a small stream flowing down from the north. She could tell from the shadows, without looking up, that midday was an hour gone.

"Are you tired sweetie?" she asked.

"No," the girl said stubbornly, "of course not." She put an extra swing in her stride and kept her eyes fixed forward, missing the indulgent smile Tara couldn't keep off her face.

"Well I'm tired," Willow said with a private grin for Tara, "would you mind if we stopped for a little bit?"

"Okay," Amalee allowed after a pause. After a quick glance to make sure neither woman was watching too closely, she gratefully sank to the ground and stretched her legs.

"Does this stream lead to the river?" Willow asked.

"Yep," the girl replied promptly. "To get to the river you follow this stream into the valley to the clearing half-way, where the big stream joins it. You have to cross to the north side there, because it gets deep further on and there isn't another crossing. Then you follow the big stream all the way down to the river."

"Then that's what we'll do," Willow nodded, accepting a piece of dried fruit from Tara, "if you think it's safe?"

"It's probably best," Tara said with a reassuring smile, but a slight edge to her voice caught Willow's attention. She noticed Tara give her a meaningful glance, and resolved to pursue the topic further when she had the chance.

"Can you tell us about this clearing?" Tara asked Amalee. "We need somewhere to stop for the night."

"It's where daddy always made camp for the night when we went to the river," she replied, "except last month the weather was bad so we didn't go. That happened sometimes. Daddy didn't like taking the animals out in bad weather." She hesitated and looked off to the horizon.

"What happens when people die?" she asked without looking back. Tara exchanged a glance with Willow, and saw a reflection of what she was feeling – sadness for the girl who had lost her family, yet at the same time a sort of pride at the strength and composure she was showing.

"That depends," Tara said after a brief moment to choose her words, "lots of people believe lots of different things."

"What do Amazons do?" Amalee asked, turning to look at Tara. There were tears in her eyes, and she wasn't holding them back, but nor were they overcoming her.

"Amazons go to where our gods live, and live with them," Tara explained gently. "They explore places we can't imagine, and they serve the gods in whichever way suits them best."

"Oh," Amalee said, giving this some thought. "Like angels?" she asked after a moment.

"Sort of like angels," Tara said, "yes."

"So, do they get to meet the people who've died before them?"

"Yes," Tara nodded.

"Daddy missed mommy very much," Amalee said gravely. "I hope," she paused and took a deep breath, "I hope he sees her again. I think he'd be very happy to be with her again."

"I'm sure he is," Willow said comfortingly, reaching out to hold the girl's hand.

"He was good," Amalee agreed, "he was brave and kind…he took care of me and granny…she'll be with grandpa now…" She sniffled, and Willow and Tara both moved closer to her. Willow held Amalee's small hand in both of hers, while Tara put an arm around her shoulders, holding her as she cried quietly.

"It's alright honey," Willow said sadly, "I'm sure they're all in a good place, a-and your daddy is with your mommy, and your granny with your grandpa, and they're all happy to be with each other again, a-and they're all so proud of you, being such a strong girl…you know it's okay to cry, don't you? Crying doesn't mean you're not strong…"

"Yes," Amalee said indistinctly, "daddy told me…he cried sometimes about mommy…I was young, and she got sick…he took care of her for a long time…he told me it was okay to cry and be sad sometimes…"

"That's true sweetie," Tara said soothingly, "I know…I lost my mommy and daddy when I was very young, and I'm still sad sometimes. I do miss them very much." Willow gave her a compassionate glance, and she smiled her thanks.

"But you know what?" she went on to Amalee. "There were other people who cared about me, and they took care of me, just like we're going to take care of you. And your uncle in the city, he'll take care of you, won't he?"

"When we visited him daddy said he spoiled me," Amalee said with a trembling smile, "he gave me sweetbread whenever I asked for it, and daddy said my eyes were bigger than my mouth. They're not," she added indignantly

"Well, I'm sure he'll make sure you eat proper food," Tara smiled.

"That's okay," Amalee said, in a conspiratorial tone, "I found out where he kept the sweetbread. He hid a jar on the shelf behind the flour." Willow and Tara both laughed.

"It'll be alright sweetie," Tara said. Amalee nodded, to herself more than to Tara, and took a deep, clear breath.

"Do you feel like lunch?" Willow asked, at which Amalee nodded enthusiastically.

"Lucky we stocked up on rations," Tara said with a raised eyebrow, "your eyes are bigger than your mouth."

"Are not." Amalee accepted the dried fruit and ration bread, and Tara handed her the smaller waterskin.

"We'll just fill this other waterskin, okay?" she asked. "We'll just be over there at the stream."

"'Kay," Amalee said, munching away. Willow followed Tara the few meters to the stream, keeping an eye on the girl, who seemed to have recovered her equilibrium and was eating contentedly.

"She's taking it well," she commented quietly to Tara, who nodded her agreement.

"Children, huh?" she said with a sad smile. "I'm sure she'll have to deal with it more, in time. But she's a strong girl."

"And she's got a wonderfully caring woman looking after her," Willow said, giving Tara a quick kiss on her cheek.

"Make that two," Tara smiled back. She met Willow's eyes and for a moment they simply stared at each other, affection and passion and contentment all plain in their gazes. Tara gently placed a kiss on Willow's lips, then knelt down to refill the waterskin. Willow glanced back at Amalee, and gave her a wave when she glanced over her shoulder, which she returned.

"What was it you were unsure about with the valley?" she asked quietly, bending down next to Tara.

"It's difficult to say," Tara said, "the land around here is much more, oh, disturbed, than it was further west."

"Disturbed?" Willow asked.

"There's evil here," Tara explained, "unnatural things…I think the demons have been moving through the land here longer, and maybe more of them. They hurt the land, the rhythms that I can feel get disrupted. It makes it difficult to sense a real danger, out of all the…" she shrugged, "background evil."

"Do you think there's demons in the valley?"

"There could be," Tara said, "but what I can sense to the north and south is the same. I don't think we'll necessarily be avoiding the danger if we avoid the valley, and it'd take us another day to reach the river."

"Demons don't like water," Willow mused, "it's not a massive deterrent to them, or anything, but this stream's pure…there might be a slightly smaller chance of running into anything if we stick to it. No guarantee of course," she hastened to add, "I mean, in the right circumstances even a Carver will wade through a stream like this and not really care, and there's even some demons that live in the water – in Kehjistan, mainly, I don't think there's many in the western kingdoms – but just, in general, demons kind of… gravitate away from clean water."

"I think we should go through the valley," Tara concluded. "I just wanted you to know, there could be a danger, so you'd be ready."

"Ready for action," Willow nodded.

"I didn't want to say it in front of Amalee," Tara admitted, "I'm sure she'd cope, and… the way she looks around, have you noticed she keeps checking the horizon? She knows we're not really safe out here. But I didn't want to worry her any more unless we're sure we're going to run into trouble."

"I'll keep close to her," Willow promised, "if anything happens I'll cast an armor around us both."

"Good," Tara smiled, "that'll keep me from worrying." Willow grinned, then glanced at the stream, and over at Amalee.

"She must've been down in that tunnel for a long time," she said sadly, "longer than we were."

"Days," Tara agreed somberly, "more than a week, I think. Just a guess," she added, "from what was left of the food she ate. She must've known to take food and water, if there was trouble. Her father taught her well. He probably saved her life."

After finishing their lunch break Willow set about washing the blankets they had used the night before. Amalee joined them, helping wring the water out of the blankets after Willow had scrubbed them, and Tara suggested that a bath might be in order – the girl needed one, after her time in the tunnel with no water save for drinking. The girl agreed readily, which Willow put down to her being raised in a small, rural village, rather than a city where bathing in front of others would be unthinkable. Tara joined her, which seemed to put her more at ease, and Willow sat on a rock at the edge of the stream, washing Amalee's clothes and employing a little magic to help them on their way to drying in the sun. The girl's tunic and skirt were worn in places, with patches here and there, but obviously made to last by people who knew the value of hard-wearing clothes. Willow took care to clean them as best she could, and smiled over at Amalee when she noticed the girl gazing in wonder at the misty clouds that formed briefly whenever she finished with a garment and dried it.

Her thoughts also turned to Tara, which was not unusual, but she found herself particularly aware of the tender, motherly way her lover interacted with the young girl, joking with her to keep her happy, helping wash her small body with their washcloth, slowly cleaning away the grime of too long spent hiding in the dark, cold underground. Willow suddenly, and with some surprise, found herself wondering what might lie in the future for her and Tara, and whether, at some time after they had settled down, after their travels were done, they might have a child of their own. Even now, with the destruction of the Reckoning fading into memory, there were still orphans who needed the love of a family. Tara seemed so naturally caring, so loving, so instinctively able to provide the attention, the affection and the protection that a child like Amalee deserved, even though it would only be for a short time, until they reached Duncraig and found her uncle. She wondered what would happen if he was not there, if he had moved somewhere else, or simply couldn't be found. Reluctantly she suppressed the small part of herself that hoped Amalee would stay with them – the girl deserved to be with her family, and if she and Tara were, one day, to have the chance to raise such an angel of their own…well, that day would be a long time coming.

'Getting a little ahead of myself there,' Willow mused with a private grin, finishing drying the last of Amalee's undergarments and setting them with the rest of her clothes. Still, seeing Tara with the girl gave her a great sense of pride. 'My Tara,' she thought, 'this beautiful, wonderful person…and she loves me. If that's not a miracle, I don't know what is.' Tara glanced at her briefly and their eyes met, and Willow blew her a kiss, hoping to convey in the simple gesture all the love she felt. Tara's smile widened, and she blew a kiss in return, which Willow mimed catching and placing next to her heart.

'Love you,' Tara mouthed, before returning her attention to Amalee. Willow smiled and continued to watch them, marveling at the beauty of the pair of them, the girl innocent and joyous – even in the midst of such a difficult time, Willow thought, Tara could bring that out of her. Her eyes strayed to Tara, and she spent a leisurely few moments assessing her lover's beauty in an entirely different way. 'Oh my,' she thought to herself, watching the water stream down Tara's side and over her hip as she bathed, 'bring on the city, specifically the private bedroom.' She chuckled to herself. 'Heh. Just as well it'll only be a few days. There's things I'm gonna to do you, my love, that shouldn't even be done in the same house as children.' Tara glanced at her again, and seemed to read her mind from her expression, if her raised eyebrow and wicked smile were anything to judge by. 'Damn,' she thought, 'I'm not sure I'm old enough to be thinking these kinds of thoughts.'

Tara quickly finished her bathing and strapped her armor back on, after convincing a disappointed Amalee that it wouldn't fit her. She wandered over to where Willow sat while the girl finished drying herself.

"I love you," Willow said quietly as she sat down.

"I know," Tara smiled, "makes you think, doesn't it?" She nodded towards Amalee. "One day?"

"Do you always know exactly what I'm thinking?" Willow teased. Tara laughed to herself. "You'd make a wonderful mother," Willow went on quietly, "she adores you so much already."

"Thank you," Tara said with a warm smile, "you would too, you know?"

"I hope so," Willow said.

"I know so," Tara said firmly. "I can see it in the way you look at her. You've known her a couple of hours, and already you'd do anything to keep her safe."

"Anyone would," Willow insisted modestly, "how could they not? She's so, so innocent, how could anyone not want to protect her from all this?" She waved a hand around vaguely. "Anyone in my place would do the same."

"That doesn't mean it's not special," Tara said gently, "it doesn't mean you're not special. You are. To me, and to her as well."

"You think?" Willow asked. Tara nodded.

"I saw the way you were looking at me, too," she added slyly.

"Oh, well," Willow grinned, "goddess bathing in stream, what am I supposed to do, look away? Nuh-uh." She sighed. "A big part of me is going to miss her, when we get to Duncraig and bring her to her family…but there's an up side to having some time just to ourselves."

"Poor Willow," Tara smiled, "thinking naughty thoughts, and no way to act on them."

"Yeah," Willow shrugged, "where do we get a babysitter in the middle of nowhere?" Tara laughed again, then leaned over to whisper in Willow's ear:

"Keep thinking baby, I'll make it worth the wait."

"Ooh," Willow purred, "I'll hold you to that."

"You can hold me to whatever you like," Tara replied with a wink. "And besides," she went on, more casually, "it's not like we'll never see her again once we get to Duncraig. Isn't that right?" she added as Amalee came over and started getting dressed. "We'll visit you all the time, won't we?"

"Yep," the girl said with a brilliant smile. "Are you going to live in the city?"

"Not forever," Tara admitted, "but we'll be staying there for a long time, won't we?"

"Oh, yeah," Willow agreed, "we won't be going on the road again until well after the solstice."

"And you promise you'll visit?" Amalee said, fixing them both with a serious stare.

"Absolutely," Tara said, "cross my heart." She did so, and Willow copied the gesture, which seemed to satisfy Amalee beyond all doubt.

"We need to get going," the girl said after a moment's consideration, "we have to reach the clearing before dark."

"Our guide has spoken," Willow smiled, getting to her feet.

The plain sloped down into the valley gently at first, aside from a few rocky patches they scrambled down with relative ease. Willow noticed Amalee found an easy path without having to stop and study the way ahead, a sure sign that they were following the trail she and her father had taken down to the river, probably from the time she was first old enough to make the trip. While the notion of Amalee being their 'guide' had at first been more of a device to let the girl feel useful, to give her a purpose at a time when she seemed to sorely need one, it occurred to Willow that her knowledge of the terrain and the easiest path to take was no small convenience. She resolved to make sure the girl knew, once they reached the river, how valuable her help had been.

On either side, half a mile distant and rising up beyond that, rocky highlands blocked the view of the horizon as they made their way down to the floor of the valley, cliffs and steep slopes that wouldn't be easy to traverse under any circumstances, and might be too much for a child. Before long the ridges themselves were obscured by the branches of tall, thick trees, their trunks old and gnarled, twisted into strange shapes, their leaves dark and large, melding together into a canopy. Willow glanced now and then at Tara, who was following a pace or two behind her and Amalee, and noticed a change about her, as if she was suddenly more aware of her surroundings.

"Okay?" she asked.

"I think so," Tara replied cautiously, "the forest is…comforting, I suppose. But I wouldn't call it safe."

"Do you think we should go back and take the highlands?" Willow asked.

"That's a difficult path," Amalee said, "we had to take it one time when there was a fire in the valley, and daddy said it was a bloody pain in the ass." Willow shared a grin with Tara at the gleeful way the girl repeated the words she had, presumably, overheard from her father in an unguarded moment.

"I agree," Tara said, "it does look like a – it looks difficult," she corrected herself with a smile. "I don't think that way is any safer. We'll be on our guard. You'll be fine with us, sweetie," she said to Amalee.

"I know," Amalee said earnestly, "you're heroes."

"Thank you, honey," Willow said, "that's really sweet of you to say that."

"It's true," the girl insisted, "daddy said one time that heroes are just normal people who do the right thing, even when it's really really difficult. Like one time, there was a fire in the grain house, and old Mister Borat went in to save Tosan the baker's son, and he was a hero, even though he was just an old man who sat outside the church and told stories."

"That's true," Tara offered, "lots of people are heroes at some time. Your daddy was a hero too, you know."

"Really?" Amalee asked.

"Oh yes," Tara assured her, "he made sure you knew what to do if there was trouble, and that you knew to take food and water with you, and he took care of you and made you a strong, clever, brave girl." Amalee considered this, and smiled, pride tinged with sadness. She thought some more as they followed an overgrown trail on the south side of the stream, and eventually looked up at Willow.

"I'm glad you're here," she said, "both of you. I was afraid before, but I'm not now."

"Aww, thank you honey," Willow smiled.

"Willow?" she asked.

"Yes honey?"

"How come I didn't go under the bad wizard's spell? It was a spell, wasn't it? What he did to all the people." Willow sighed, and glanced back at Tara. She gave Willow a meaningful glance, which Willow read with an ease that surprised her: 'she's a strong girl, just tell her.'

"I'm not sure honey," Willow said, "we – my Order of mages – we know about the spell that the wizard did on your village, but we don't know exactly how it works. I read a story once that said, one time, a person resisted the spell, so maybe you did as well."

"I'm not a wizard," Amalee pointed out, "don't you have to be a wizard to stop magic from working on you?"

"Sometimes," Willow allowed, "but sometimes not. It depends on a lot of things, like what sort of spell it is, how it's being cast, how powerful the mage – the wizard – is, all sorts of things like that. The story said that resisting this spell doesn't use magic."

"Oh," Amalee said. "Will you tell me the story?"

"Are you sure?" Willow asked. "It's got demons and bad wizards in it-"

"That's okay," Amalee said, "at the church they told us stories about demons and bad people all the time, but they always lost in the end, because they're bad, and good people are stronger than bad people. That's right, isn't it? Do the demons in your story lose?"

"Yes," Willow said, glancing at Tara and receiving an encouraging look, "yes, they do, and you're right, good is stronger in the end, even if sometimes it doesn't seem that way."

"Can I hear the story?" Amalee asked, turning an adorable pout on Willow.

"That's not fair," Willow grinned, "you're being cute on purpose. Okay, I'll tell you." Amalee bounced briefly, looking extremely pleased with herself, and Tara laughed quietly behind them.

"Okay," Willow began, "this happened a long time ago, hundreds of years ago. There was once an evil wizard called Goreth, who was jealous of the other wizards in his Order. They were all old and powerful, but Goreth was young and impatient, and he didn't want to spend years and years studying magic before he could learn the really powerful spells, he wanted to be very powerful right now."

"That's not right," Amalee pointed out seriously, "daddy said if you want something, you have to earn it, otherwise it's not really yours."

"Your daddy was a smart man," Willow said, at which Amalee glowed with pride. "That's right, you know the saying you have to learn to walk before you can run? Well, magic's just like everything else that way. But sometimes there are people who don't want to do it that way, and they look for easy ways to get power, without having to work for it. See, Goreth was powerful already, more than the other students his age, and he thought he was better than them, and should be taught more quickly, but his elders wouldn't let him. Well, he tried to get power from demons, and the other wizards – mages – in his Order banished him, to try to keep him from talking to the demons. But Goreth already suspected they would try to stop him, and he had already made a deal with a very powerful demon, a demon called Belial-"

"I know him," Amalee piped up, "he's the Lord of Lies, they told us stories about him in church. They said he never says the truth, and he always tries to get people to do what he wants, even if they think they're doing what they want."

"You're a well educated girl," Willow grinned, "is there anything you don't know?"

"Granny told me I should learn as much as I can," Amalee said proudly, "because you never know when it's going to come in useful."

"There's a kindred spirit for you," Tara pointed out to Willow.

"I can read and write," Amalee went on, "and granny was teaching me to speak Khejan."

"Wow, you are smart," Willow said, reflecting that it wasn't uncommon even now for children in rural communities to learn only simple reading and writing.

"Keep telling the story?" the girl asked.

"Right, where was I? Oh yes, Belial…see, Belial knew that Goreth had the potential to be a very powerful mage, but he also knew he was impatient. He promised that he'd give Goreth all the power he wanted in exchange for Goreth agreeing to serve him, not his Order, and Goreth agreed."

"Dummy," Amalee interjected. "I wouldn't have agreed to that. It doesn't matter how powerful you are if you're not good. I'd have studied properly and become a good wizard."

"I know honey," Willow said fondly. 'I wouldn't be too surprised if you did, one day,' she thought to herself.

"What did Goreth do?" Amalee prompted.

"Well, Belial wanted to use Goreth to get rid of the other mages, because without them he'd be able to become much more powerful. He gave Goreth the power to get inside the minds of other demons, like goblins, and make them do what he wanted, and Goreth assembled a big army and built a fortress out in the desert, called Sankira. And when he was finished building it, Belial gave Goreth a very powerful kind of dark magic, bound in a weapon called a rod of command."

"Is that the magic the bad wizard used?" Amalee asked.

"That's right," Willow said, "he had a rod, too. Only we don't have to worry about it any more, his rod's been destroyed, and he's gone."

"Does it make people go strange like everyone did at the village?" Amalee asked. "Like, they didn't see or hear anything?"

"It can," Willow said, "what it does is it lets the person using the rod command the people he uses it on. It means they can't fight back."

"Oh," Amalee said with a scowl, "that's not fair…a good person wouldn't use a weapon like that."

"No," Willow agreed sadly, "but Goreth wasn't a good person. He took the rod and poured all his power into it, made it…like his own personal magic wand. Whenever he cast a spell he did it using the rod, and it made his magic more powerful, and more evil. And all the people in the city near Sankira were very afraid, because they knew that their soldiers wouldn't be able to fight back if Goreth attacked them."

"Was there a hero?" Amalee asked.

"There was," Willow said with a smile, "there was a group of sorceresses traveling through the desert-"

"Like you?"

"The same Order as me, yes," Willow said, "but sorceresses were different back then, they traveled in secret, so their enemies wouldn't know about them. Goreth thought they were just a normal caravan and sent his demons to attack them. When the sorceresses used their magic to defend themselves, Goreth used the rod to stop them. And it worked, all except for one little girl, about your age, who the sorceresses had been taking to be trained as one of them. The rod didn't affect her, and when she saw all the other sorceresses stop fighting, she grabbed one of their staves and used it to cast firebolts at the demons."

"And she won?"

"Yes she did," Willow nodded, "the demons in Goreth's army had never had anyone stand up to them, and when that little girl fought back, they were so afraid that they ran away."

"What happened then?"

"Goreth saw all his demons running away, and he got very angry. He raged at all his demons and called them useless and cowards, and then he set his own magic against the little girl to defeat her. But the rod still didn't affect her, and every time he tried to command her nothing happened. And he tried every spell he could, but because he'd put all his magic into the rod, none of his spells would affect her either. He got so angry from trying to defeat her that he came out of his fortress, came right up to her, standing right in front of her, trying to cast spells on her. And do you know what she did?"

"She firebolted him?" Amalee guessed.

"She aimed her staff and cast a firebolt right at the rod," Willow said, "and the rod shattered into a million pieces. And because Goreth had put all his power into it, all his magic was shattered as well, and his fortress crumbled into the sand, and his demons fled, and all the people he'd commanded were set free, and he was never able to cast a single spell ever again. All because of that little girl."

"Wow," Amalee said earnestly. "Who was she? What happened to her?"

"She was called Esara," Willow said, "she studied with the sorceresses and became very powerful herself eventually, and she had a lot of adventures."

"And what happened to Belial?" Amalee asked.

"Well, it's very difficult for a demon to make a rod of command," Willow explained, "and it takes a long time, which is why they only make them and give them to people when they're very sure it won't be destroyed. For all his power, Belial hadn't been able to foresee that that little girl would be able to resist the rod's magic and destroy it. My Order does its best to keep track of what demons are up to, so we can stop them, and from what we know, even now, hundreds of years later, Belial still hasn't made a new rod."

"Do you think I'm like Esara?" Amalee asked. "Will I be a sorceress?"

"I don't know honey," Willow said gently, "no-one knows why the rod's magic didn't work on her. But I'll tell you this: I'm sure you're a very special girl, and you're going to achieve something wonderful one day."

"Really?" Amalee asked, smiling brilliantly.

"I'm sure of it," Willow confirmed.

Chapter 42

The path wound through the trees, occasionally edging away from the stream to go around a clump of trunks, so that a wagon or cart could follow it, but never straying far. Tara strained her senses to their limit as the forest became more dense, trying to pinpoint movements or sounds. She was sure there was something in the forest with them, but she didn't think it, or they, were aware of her, Willow and Amalee. Willow was moving with admirable care, leaving little trace of her passage and making even less noise as she picked her way through the fallen leaves and occasional branches that littered the path. Tara wondered if she somehow did it unconsciously, or if she had been taught how to move stealthily – if so, certainly by Ember, and they both owed her their thanks. Amalee was doing as well as could be expected – Tara guessed her father had taught her how best to move, perhaps to avoid attracting the attentions of wild animals on their journeys. She was sure-footed, and barely made more noise than Willow, only occasionally brushing a leafy branch from a bush in passing, and even then never a brittle one that might snap or snag on her clothes.

"The clearing's up ahead," Tara overheard her whisper to Willow, and at the same moment a chill ran down her spine.

"Willow," she said softly. Willow gently drew Amalee to a halt, keeping hold of her hand, and looked back at Tara.

"Trouble?" she asked in a whisper.

"I can't be sure," Tara said with a frown, "but I've got a very bad feeling…there's something in this forest that shouldn't be here."

"Demons?"

"Maybe, but it's more…it's as if the land has been twisted, the rhythms are wrong. There's small movements, like animals but more fearful, the birds are flying in strange patterns, the sounds are…everything's just wrong," she finished with a shrug, "I'm sorry, I can't be more specific, I've never felt anything quite like this before."

"It's okay," Willow said, "I recognize it. There's demons here, and they've affected the land, their energy seeps from them into the ground and affects everything."

"It's interfering with my senses," Tara said, "it's difficult for me to tell exactly what's around us. I'm sure there's something here, I can't tell what exactly…" She glanced down at Amalee, who was absorbing all this with stern calm.

"It's okay sweetie," she said soothingly, "we'll protect you, whatever it is." The girl nodded, accepting Tara's assurance without question, and despite her concern Tara was both touched by Amalee's faith in her and Willow, and impressed at her calm in a frightening situation.

"I'm almost certain it's dangerous," she went on to Willow, "more than just animals like that blood hawk thing. Carvers, perhaps, or maybe something else. Damn, it's all distorted," she exclaimed quietly, frowning at herself.

"It's okay," Willow repeated, "tainted land is difficult for anyone, even a trained mage with years of experience, a-and you're probably still sensing a lot more than I am."

"I'm not sure if it knows we're here," Tara admitted, allowing Willow's words to soothe her frustration somewhat.

"Well if it does, I'm sure we'll find out soon enough," Willow said with a wry grimace. "We'll get through it."

"Yeah," Tara agreed, gripping her spear. They set off again, at a slower pace, now always cautious of what might be around the next bend in the path, or lurking behind the trees and bushes.

"Keep hold of my hand, honey," Willow said to Amalee, "if anything happens I'm going to cast a spell around us, but you have to be holding my hand for it to work."

"Okay," the girl nodded seriously.

"I don't want it to startle you," Willow went on, "you'll feel cold, and you'll see a sort of whitish-blue mist around you, like it's clinging to your body, so don't be afraid, that's just my magic. It's called a chill armor, it's what sorceresses use to protect themselves." She glanced back at Tara, and added quietly: "I can cast it around you, too."

"Can you cover all of us with the same strength?" Tara asked gently.

"No," Willow admitted, "it'd be easier with just two."

"Take care of her," Tara said with a nod at Amalee, "I should be okay. If I need help- "

"You'll get it," Willow said at once.

"I know," Tara smiled, "I won't hesitate."

"If anything sudden happens," Willow said, "like a fire spell, or arrows, I can do a flash-freeze armor around all three of us. It'll only last a few seconds, but it'll shield us against pretty much anything short of a catapult shot." Tara nodded.

They walked further, with the sun setting behind them, casting a red glow through the thick branches of the trees and giving the forest an eerie twilight quality. Tara became very aware suddenly of the stillness around them, as it seemed that all the tiny creatures of the forest were burrowing down and staying hidden in the fading light. Willow drew her attention to the trunk of a nearby tree.

"Those scratches," she pointed out, "too high for a Carver." The trunk was scratched in a crude pattern, two vertical marks and a series of horizontal lines crossing them. Tara glanced around as they went on, and noticed others here and there, different variations on the same patterns, and always with the same symbol underneath, a triangle pointing downwards, the scratches forming it continuing on after meeting at the shape's points, giving it a savage, jagged look.

"Do you recognize that?" Tara asked. Willow had seen the common marking too, and shook her head.

"Too generic," she said, "it could be any of a hundred things, depending on what made it. I don't think it's human, though."

"These marks weren't made by a knife," Tara said quietly.

"Stay close, honey," Willow whispered to Amalee.

"I will," she promised, frightened but controlling it admirably. "The clearing's after this next boulder."

They rounded the boulder, and Tara gasped quietly at the sight that awaited them. From the edge of the stream to the north, the trees gave way to the clearing for about fifty feet before closing in again, and those nearest the open ground had been decorated by more scratches, some even with reddish mud smeared on for effect, or branches nailed in place to create rough symbols, the inverted triangle being common. At the bases of the trunks lay various animal carcasses, in varying states of decay, some rotten and blackened, others still fresh. There were even a few primitive weapons here and there, spears and long two-handed axes, their blades dented and stained with blood.

All of this was just background, however, for the great monolith that stood upright in the center of the clearing. One side of it was smooth – Tara saw long gouges in the ground where it had been dragged from the stream – the rest of it was old, weather-worn and rugged, like a remnant of some old, broken mountain. For all of its fifteen-foot height it was decorated with savage icons painted in black mud or, Tara suspected, blood, and all over it was festooned with rotting ropes made inexpertly from vines and creepers, circling it like gaudy, horrible decorations, and from them hung dozens of skulls, human and animal, along with bones, broken tools and weapons, and pieces of armor.

"What the hell is that," she whispered half to herself, frozen in her tracks for a moment, Willow and Amalee likewise awed and horrified at the sight of the huge stone.

"Herd-stone," Willow said darkly, her voice trembling, "this is a goat-man camp, that's like the symbol of their clan, their strength…we have to get out of here!" Tara agreed, but the three of them had barely taken their first strides towards the stream before there arose a crashing from all around them, as heavy, strong bodies smashed their way through the forest towards them. Tara spun around, placing herself between Willow and the nearest sound in the sudden chaos, glimpsing out of the corner of her eye the blue flash of Willow casting an armor, but before she could find a target it seemed that the threat was closer behind them, and she turned again, spear aimed. Willow likewise had her staff raised, cradled in the elbow of one arm like a crossbow while her other hand held Amalee's, keeping her between them. As dark shapes began to loom through the sun-reddened forest, the three of them backed towards the herd-stone, circling warily, waiting for the first attack.

"Keep the stone behind you honey," Willow said urgently, edging in front of Amalee as they ran out of room to retreat. Tara glanced at her, now side by side, and saw fright and determination in her eyes.

"We'll protect you, sweetie," she said to Amalee, who was trembling visibly, her knuckles white around Willow's hand. "Damn it," she swore under her breath, looking back out into the churning forest, "they knew we were here and I couldn't sense it."

"Don't blame yourself," Willow said, and with a glance Tara could tell that, given the time, she would have spared no effort to calm her and ease away her frustration and the slight gnawing guilt. But they had no time, so all Willow could do was offer the few, simple words, and a look that spoke volumes. Tara set her shoulders and faced the oncoming enemy.

The goat-men made no effort, now that their trap was sprung, to conceal their presence. Bushes were shoved aside, branches snapped and the dry kindling underfoot was crunched and broken by their hooves. As one they seemed to step out of the trees into the waning light, at least twenty of them by Tara's count, carrying huge axes, halberds, heavy-tipped spears – long, heavy weapons, designed for smashing and tearing. Their eyes blazed with hatred of all things living, and the thick muscles in their arms flexed, making the patches of fur covering their upper bodies bristle. They gave no thought to care or caution in their advance, some walking straight through the discarded carcasses at the edge of the clearing, smearing blood and entrails across the dirt with their hooves, a couple even kicking aside the weapons lying unused at their feet. Their attention was wholly on the intruders standing against their stone, and the only caution in them came from the dim recognition of the weapons they held, which checked their charge, bringing them to a halt barely meters away. Some of them glanced from side to side at their companions, assessing their strength and finding it overwhelming, and they began to stir and growl, some taking a step or two further forward.

"How many can you take at once?" Willow whispered, so softly Tara could barely hear.

"Three," Tara said, "maybe four." She knew it wasn't enough, that the moment either of them attacked the goat-men would all charge, and after that first attack – a blast of lightning from her spear, and cold from Willow – it would become a bloody melee, in which their chances of keeping Amalee safe and protected were remote to say the least. 'Our chances of just surviving aren't great either,' she admitted to herself, though at least she gave them a chance. Willow was fast, and had her chill armor, and Tara knew she was good enough to defend herself, and in a close fight, against real fighters, rather than untrained farmers, the goat-men's numbers would be as often a hindrance as a benefit to them, getting in each other's way as they swung and charged. But the thought of them surviving such a bloody, hard-fought battle, probably both wounded, certainly exhausted, and having to look to the ground and see a tiny, fragile little body that should have been full of life and joy made still and lifeless…Tara honestly couldn't imagine how she could cope with such a failure.

A bellow made her and Willow both jump, and even the goat-men seemed apprehensive, milling around, looking about themselves rather than at their prey. Opposite Willow and Tara the demons shuffled aside, leaving a path for one more of their number to step out of the forest and confront them. It was no ordinary specimen of its kind, however. Standing a full head taller than its minions – for they were clearly subordinate to it, even feared it, to judge by their attitude – the goat-lord was a massive, terrible figure, its broad, muscled chest decorated with crude patterns of self-inflicted scars, as well as the marks of countless battles, its arms clad in rags and tatters of chain- mail and armor plates, bound on by straps wound around them, its legs long, thick and covered in matted, oily fur. The horns that grew from its head were longer than those of its fellows, coiled around and marked with black mud-paint, their tips bound crudely in iron, hammered on and sealed with long bolts driven into the horn, ending in barbed points. One eye was missing, the flesh of its cheek stretched across the cavity in a great mass of scarred skin, and its brow still held the end of the deep gash that had caused the loss. It opened its jaws, revealing flat, black-stained teeth, and roared again, this time producing something that was barely recognizable as speech of some primitive kind, and it flourished its weapons, a pair of double-headed axes, each held in massive hands with thick fingers and cracked, blackened nails.

"Did it talk?" Tara whispered.

"It said its clan is going to eat us," Willow replied, too soft for Amalee to hear.

"Uh-huh," Tara said. She glanced from side to side, seeing nothing but savage goat- men glaring at her as far as she could see, with the stone blocking her view to the far side of the clearing behind them. She tightened her grip on her spear, and turned back to face the goat-lord.

"If I challenge the leader…" she whispered tentatively.

"Sorry," Willow said, and even now there was a note of rueful humor in her voice – it gave Tara a flush of courage – "goat-men don't do honorable combat, they're just all going to attack us at once. You give the leader your best shot, I'll try to keep the others at bay for a second or two."

"Willow," Tara said, her mind whirling as a sudden idea came to her, "when I say, cast the strongest armor you can around all three of us."

"What-" Willow began to ask.

"Trust me," Tara said. Without further hesitation, Willow shifted her staff, holding it in her elbow, freeing her other hand to hold the hand Tara offered her. Tara's lips moved silently, reciting an ancient Amazonian prayer, one from darker times in their history when hope was scarce, and what a warrior prayed for was not peace or tranquility, but the strength to slay anything that dared darken the lands of her loved ones.

'Goddess Zerae,' she thought to herself, letting her lips recite the ritual prayer by instinct, and hoping the demons would hesitate for just a few seconds, to give her time, 'goddess of storms, grant me your power, show your anger at these creatures who defile the land, who threaten my love, who would take the life of a child. Goddess of vengeance, for what this foulness has wrought, let the power of the storm cleanse them from the world.' At the same time she concentrated on her focus like never before, willing her weapon into an instrument of magic, crafting the shape of the power that she hoped would come, giving it form and purpose. She had never before called on Zerae as goddess of vengeance – the form of the goddess she admired was that of a bringer of justice, a judge whose power saw that the doers of evil never escaped the consequences of their acts, but now she thought of the destroyed villages, the dead, and the innocent, brave child whose whole life had been torn away from her, and she called on her goddess to show them the pain they had caused. She even allowed herself a tiny grin as she felt the power begin to flow, the first tiny crack open between her mortal world and the realm beyond.

"Now," she said to Willow, and held up her spear. Willow's hand in hers tightened, and an intense burst of blue light flashed before her eyes, and she felt a deep cold settle over her, like being suddenly immersed in freezing water. She had only a brief instant to wonder at the power Willow commanded before her own power was upon her, the red- tainted clouds above darkening and swirling into a vortex in the space of a heartbeat. Tara felt the first surge, and a bolt of energy leapt from her spear, straight up into the storm – that itself was more powerful than anything she had felt before – and on its heels, racing down the corridor the first blast had torn through the air, a thunderbolt of immense power, lighting the forest clearing like day, touching the silver tip of her spear for just a second before leaping from it into the herd-stone.

"Down!" Tara yelled, in the split second before a massive, thunderous crack obliterated all other sounds. She felt Willow hit the ground beside her as she threw herself down, and Amalee was lying flat against her leg, the intense chill of Willow's spell still covering them.

The herd-stone exploded with shattering force, casting jagged shrapnel, white-hot and steaming, all around itself. The mass of goat-men roared and collapsed as one, the lucky ones merely stunned and burned by the sudden blast of super-heated air, others suddenly torn apart by spinning fragments of rock, legs cut from beneath them, arms severed, bodies punched open and heads smashed to bloody pulps. Tara felt impacts on her back, but no pain – Willow's magic kept the whirling fragments of rock from doing any harm to them. As the thunderbolt faded away the air was filled with a din of braying and roaring, pain and anger mixed together, and above it all the voice of the goat-lord, a bellow of pure rage.

Tara squeezed Willow's hand for reassurance, and got shakily to her feet. The intense magic had weakened her momentarily, but she summoned her own strength as best she could, holding her spear in a firm, unwavering grip, aiming the point out around her at the demons staggering back to their hooves. Several lay unmoving, and most of those who rose were wounded, but still the fire burned in their eyes, and they tightened their grips on their weapons, ignoring the pain from shattered bones and torn flesh. When they looked up at the remnants of the stone, now a shattered stump, making little crackling noises as it cooled, and saw Tara, they hesitated.

'Thank all the gods,' Tara thought, intensely relieved, as for a moment she had wondered if the creatures were even able to feel fear. She raised her spear, and called on the tiny amount of magic left to her in her exhausted state, forcing a grim smile to her face as a ripple of lightning ran down the shaft and over the blade. She glared as formidably as she could muster, and released the energy. A bolt leapt from the point of the spear into the air ahead of her, dissipating quickly, but it was enough. With a clamor of howling, the goat-men fell back, turned, and ran. The goat-lord turned in dismay, bellowing at its fellows, but they paid it no heed as they crashed into the forest, shoving each other out of their way, collapsing and scrambling back upright, escape the only thought in their bestial minds. Finally only the goat-lord remained, roaring in rage at the flight of its clan, a huge gash in its stomach pumping blood, its face marred by a new wound across its cheek, one horn a broken stump, but the rage in its eyes when it turned on Tara was undiluted. Tara braced herself to receive his charge, praying for whatever power she could summon, when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

"I've got him," Willow said grimly, stepping in front of her. She walked out towards the towering goat-lord, circling to one side to draw him away from Tara and Amalee, who scrambled up behind Tara, clutching her waist, her eyes wide, fixed on Willow and the demon. Willow brandished her staff, which was turning dark, icy ripples running across a shaft that suddenly seemed much older and harder than mere wood. The goat- lord glared at her, took a step towards her – 'Careful, Willow,' Tara prayed – then hesitated, and looked back towards the other two humans in its domain.

"Hey!" Willow yelled. "Over here!" The goat-lord seemed undecided, looking dazedly between her and Tara. Willow glanced at Tara desperately as the huge demon took a step towards her and Amalee, then looked back at it.

"Soh cha beh!" she yelled at the top of her voice. The goat-lord jerked as if it had been struck, and seemed to forget anything but Willow existed, roaring and brandishing its two axes in a display of undiluted rage. Willow held her staff ready, the icy mist of her armor covering her body, and nodded deliberately as the beast stared at her.

"Yeah, that's right," she muttered to herself, "you heard me."

The goat-lord roared again and lifted the larger of its axes, plainly intending to smash Willow out of existence with a single blow. Tara saw Willow anticipate the attack and tense to avoid it, but still her heart leapt into her throat as the huge, battered blade swung down. Willow darted back out of its path and swung her staff, and for the briefest instant, just as the staff passed by the axe blade, the mist around it coalesced into a glimmering, icy blade on its end, like a pole-axe. The two blades struck together with a shattering clang, the ice-blade dissolving out of existence even as it broke against the iron, but Willow had a mildly triumphant expression, and the goat-lord howled in pain, hurling away its axe, which had turned white with frost. The weapon shattered as it hit the ground, and the demon flexed its hand, which steamed with cold, tiny fragments of skin blistering and cracking off, revealing frost-bitten blood underneath.

The goat-lord swung its other axe, but it apparently had the wit to learn from its mistakes, and jerked the blade out of the way as Willow again dodged and drove her staff at it. Willow didn't check her pace, instead continuing her missed swing, spinning in place, and whipping the end of her staff at the demon. The icy axe-blade flew free and shattered against its bicep, leaving a gash of frost, twisted armor and icy shards buried in flesh.

'Careful Willow!' Tara silently pleaded, as the massive creature went berserk with rage, charging her heedless of the injury, both arms swinging wildly. Willow danced out of the way – Tara recognized the fluidity of movement born of long hours of training, and thanked the Zann Esu for not neglecting the more physical aspects of combat – and aimed her staff as the demon thundered past her, the mist around its tip crystallizing into bolt after bolt of ice that pounded against the goat-lord's tough hide, denting and buckling the scraps of metal covering its shoulders and arms, tearing at its exposed flesh wherever they found it. The beast was slowing, but it seemed to be oblivious to its wounds as it turned back towards Willow, swinging its remaining axe at her in a slow but devastating arc. Willow ducked and rolled out of the way, managing to keep her staff aimed all the while, maintaining the bombardment of ice that staggered and infuriated the demon.

"Stand back sweetie," Tara said to Amalee, feeling her strength return as the after- effects of her magic began to wear off. She planted her spear in the ground beside her and drew her bow, summoning what power she could – her ability to focus was still limited – aiming at the goat-lord's massive neck.

"Willow!" she called, choosing her time, when Willow could afford a quick glance at her without putting herself in danger.

"Fire away!" Willow replied, ducking back. She kept hold of her staff with one hand, the bolts merging into a jet of freezing mist that blinded the roaring goat-lord, and with her free hand reached to her belt and drew something from a pouch. She tossed it towards the demon – Tara had a brief glimpse of a tiny shard of ice spinning through the air – then the bowstring whipped its arrow forward, the arrowhead bursting into flame as it flew. The shot wasn't perfect – the goat-lord was reeling around, and caught the impact on its shoulder rather than in the neck – but the magic was stronger than Tara had hoped for, and a burst of angry flame tore out of the arrow as it struck, scorching the demon's skin and burning its fur. An instant later the shard Willow had thrown was enveloped in the fire, and the goat-lord was hurled back to its knees by a blast of ice, an unearthly explosion in cold blue hues.

Willow leapt forward before the beast could recover and slammed the end of her staff into its chest, impaling it on four razor-sharp points that appeared around the shaft an instant before it struck. The goat-lord howled in pain and reared up, raising its axe to strike down at her, but its strength failed and the heavy weapon toppled from its hand. Tara could already see patches of frozen white blossom from beneath its skin around the impact of the staff. It raised its other hand, grabbing the staff, trying to pull the weapon out of its body, but the instant its fingers closed around the shaft they too began to turn white and brittle. The goat-lord turned its mad, uncomprehending gaze on Willow as its wrist broke, leaving the fragments of its hand to shower to the ground and it jerked away the icy stump, and then the frost was racing over its body, blooming from within it all down its torso, along its limbs, and up its neck. It opened its mouth for one last bellow of fury, but its voice was cut off, frozen as was the rest of it. Willow jerked her staff back, leaving the demon a still, silent form of pure ice. She adjusted her grip and swung one last time, the end of her staff cracking against the demon's frozen head, smashing into it and toppling the lifeless ice of its body. The goat-lord's final fate was to shatter against the ground, scattering into a heap of shards which lay silent, slowly melting in the last rays of the sun.

For a moment everything was still, then Willow turned towards Tara and Amalee, and Tara realized it was over, and ran to her side, barely remembering to snatch her spear from the ground as she went. They embraced tightly, almost desperately, burying their faces in each other's hair and taking heaving gasps of air, between relief and sobbing. They looked down as a small pair of arms went around them both, and they sank to their knees, including Amalee in their hug. Tara finally lifted her head to look at Willow, overjoyed but also worried, sensing the exhaustion in her.

"A-are you okay?" she asked. Willow nodded, tired but unconcerned.

"Just a bit of magic drain," she said with a grin, "I'll be fine. It'll wear off in a few minutes…" she yawned, "…I don't usually cast that many spells so quickly. You?"

"Okay," Tara smiled, "same as you, tired from the magic, but getting better." She looked at Amalee. "Are you okay sweetie?"

"Yes," the girl nodded, a stunned expression on her face. "Is the beast-man dead?"

"Yes honey," Willow said, "it's pretty definitively dead."

"Good," Amalee said with a relieved smile, hugging them both again. Willow smiled at Tara, then glanced around.

"How're you for walking?" she asked.

"Ready when you are," Tara said, "rest a moment, though, wait until you're recovered."

"I'm okay," Willow insisted gently, "I was always quick at recovery. It'll probably be a few minutes before I could do all that again, of course, but it's not like walking's strenuous, and I kind of think we should get out of here."

"Alright," Tara agreed, "sweetie, are you okay to walk some more?"

"Yes," Amalee said promptly, "I don't like this place."

"Me neither," Tara said with a grin. "Okay, let's see how far we can get before the sun sets completely."

Tara helped Willow to her feet, which wasn't strictly necessary – true to her word, Willow was recovering from her magic with impressive speed – but she didn't protest being helped up, nor when Tara held on to her for a moment, gently touching her lips to Willow's cheek. Amalee dutifully took Willow's hand as they crossed the clearing, and allowed Tara to carry her as they crossed the shallow stream, to keep her thin boots from getting soaked. She pointed out the start of the trail that ran by the north side of the stream, and the three set off with the setting sun on their backs.

"Are you sure you're okay, honey?" Willow asked Amalee tentatively. The girl seemed absorbed in her thoughts, a marked contrast to the inquisitive enthusiasm she had shown earlier in the day. Tara wondered how many nights she would wake from nightmares because of what they had gone through. Amalee looked at Willow, paused in thought, then smiled faintly.

"I'm okay," she nodded, "I was frightened when all the beast-men came out of the forest, but I'm not now. You beat them, just like the heroes in stories." She paused again, glancing away in thought, and when she looked back at Willow her eyes had regained their curious gleam.

"What did you say to the beast-man to make him angry?" she asked. Willow spared Tara a glance, sharing her relief that Amalee had accepted their escape – victory, perhaps – without being too troubled by the prospect of what might have happened.

"Actually, yeah," Tara put in, "what did you say?"

"Um," Willow looked sheepish, "well, assuming I got the language right, and I think I did, given how he reacted…I called him a woman." She looked vaguely embarrassed. "Not that I think that's an insult, no way, but goat-men are kind of fixated on pure physical strength a-and masculinity, some of the texts I've read suggest that they don't think women are capable of fighting, really, and basically for a goat-man fighting is all that there is in life, so because of that they think women aren't really 'real' people…I kind of hazarded a guess that taking a stab at his masculinity would annoy him…"

"He looked mad," Amalee said.

"He did, didn't he?" Willow agreed. "Probably half of it was from Tara defeating the rest of the clan, I think seeing them get decimated by someone they wouldn't have considered a 'proper' warrior, well, that put him in a bad mood." She smiled at Amalee, and then glanced over her head at Tara and mouthed 'really pissed off'. Tara laughed quietly to herself.

"So now they know women are proper warriors?" Amalee asked.

"Maybe," Willow guessed, "but then again, goat-men are pretty thick, so maybe they'll just get confused and forget it ever happened."

"I'm not going to forget it," Amalee said vehemently, "when we get to the city I'm going to tell my uncle and everyone else all about it, how you weren't afraid of them at all, and how you," she looked at Tara, "made the lightning strike and blew up the lot of them, and how you," she looked back to Willow, "fought the biggest beast-men and froze him and how you," to Tara, "shot him with the fire arrow, and it went boom and there was all ice and fire and…" she paused. "I'll write it down properly so everyone knows how it was," she promised.

"How about that?" Willow grinned at Tara. "We've got our own bard now."

"I saw a bard once," Amalee said, "he told stories about the old wizards and heroes and how they defeated the demons in the big war a long time ago. But he couldn't have seen it for himself, because no-one could live that long. I bet he just heard the stories and remembered them, and then told them like he was there. But I'll tell stories about you that I actually saw, because I was there when you defeated all the demons."

"Well…okay," Tara said with a bemused shrug, "sure."

"I'll write it all down when we get to the city," Amalee went on.

"Back to normal, huh?" Willow said softly to Tara.

"I was worried," Tara admitted quietly, "I mean, I was worried about all of us, but especially her, having to go through that…I don't know how I feel about being a 'hero', but it's probably good for her to think of it all like that."

"Well, I know how I feel about you being a hero," Willow smiled, "I feel very, very proud of you."

"You too," Tara replied warmly. "We should go on as long as we can," she went on, her expression becoming more serious, "the goat-men that got away will probably be scattered for a while, but if they're as single-minded as you describe them…"

"Yep," Willow agreed, "they'll regroup before long. It'd be best if we're way away from here before that happens. Probably, with fewer of them, and no leader, we could fight them off again, but I'd rather not have to."

"There'll be enough moonlight for me to see well tonight," Tara said, glancing up at the scattered clouds in the darkening sky, "if you wear the amulet, we could both keep going well into the night."

"What about Amalee?" Willow asked, keeping her voice down so the girl wouldn't overhear and insist she could manage. "She won't be able to keep walking that long…"

"I'll carry her," Tara said, surprising Willow, "I've been trained for long distances, remember? She's not that heavy, and some of the training I did was carrying extra loads, just to get used to it. Just promise me you'll give my arms a massage when we stop?"

"Done," Willow nodded, "I'll take your pack? It's not that heavy."

"Okay," Tara agreed. "How far do you think you can go?"

"I'm feeling pretty good," Willow said, "a bit tired, okay, but you know, after the drain wears off, doing magic does kind of give me a boost, like I've gone swimming in cold water. Well, I guess that's not surprising, cold magic and all…"

"Good," Tara said, turning to Amalee, walking in front of them. "Sweetie, we think it'd be good for us to keep going during the night, and try to get to the river in one go. Now I know you're okay to keep up with us-"

"Of course," the girl insisted.

"But just in case we need you rested and alert tomorrow, would you let me carry you in a little while, so you can rest a little?"

"Well…okay," Amalee allowed.

"Thank you sweetie," Tara smiled. "Well then, we'll keep going as long as we can, and then you can take a nap while I carry you, and we'll keep on to the river. And then, we'll find a safe spot to wait, get on the next boat that passes, and we'll go all the way to the city."

Chapter 43

Tara was tired and sore by the time the first glimmers of sunlight spread across the morning sky. Her legs dragged as though she had encased them in heavy iron armor, the soles of her feet were hot and chafing inside her boots despite the soft linings, and her arms, bearing their precious cargo of a restlessly sleeping girl, felt liable to drop off at any moment. Nonetheless, something inside her managed to cause a spark of joy when she and Willow rounded a rise of stony ground that diverted the stream they followed a little way south, and saw the Kingsway river laid out in front of her.

The sunlight, peeking over the flat eastern horizon, was fresh and fiery, casting its hue into the rippling waters of the river and bringing them alive with color. Tara paused for a moment, gazing at the view before her, and glanced sidelong at Willow, who looked as tired as she herself felt. When Willow gave a weary smile back at her, Tara noticed her eyes were still feline.

"Take off the amulet," Tara said quietly, "this is worth seeing in color." Willow gave another smile, this time more at Tara's gentle voice than the relief of seeing the end of their long journey in sight, and undid the delicate chain around her neck.

"Oh wow," she said in a small voice, tired but still with a hint of her usual liveliness, "that's a sight…"

The stream they had followed out of the forest had been joined by many others during the night, swelling to a reasonable size and depth – not a river in its own right, but at least a body of water that it would be impossible to cross without swimming. It snaked down across the last traces of the highlands and joined the Kingsway in a modest delta, its final end concealed by a collection of reeds and long grasses. As they two women walked down towards the riverbank, the sun was still low enough to cast its gleam over the length of the stream, turning it into a trail of gold running through the lush grass.

"How're you feeling?" Willow asked ruefully as they wandered along beside the stream.

"Tired," Tara said honestly, "I could use a bite to eat…I'm not sure my arms are ever going to be the same again," she added with a grin.

"I think your pack's been getting heavier overnight," Willow replied, getting a soft laugh from Tara. Even fatigued as they were, the morning sun was lifting their spirits, the grasses brushing softly against their legs, and the knowledge that rest was near at hand, were giving Willow and Tara a measure of energy.

Just north of the stream's mouth was an old, sturdy pier and a shack. Willow wearily raised her staff just in case, carrying Tara's spear and bow in her other hand, but as they neared it became obvious that there was no danger. The river side of the shack was completely open, revealing nothing lurking inside beyond a couple of old wooden chairs and some boards laid between two short tree stumps, a makeshift bed. The pier started its length on dry land for a few meters, continuing straight as the ground dipped beneath the water, and stretching out several meters into the river, supported by ancient wooden pylons, moss-covered but strong. Without prompting Willow quickened her pace a little, reaching the shack first and sliding Tara's pack from her shoulders. By the time Tara arrived Willow had unrolled their blankets and spread them out on the wooden bed, and Tara gently laid Amalee down on it. She stirred as Tara set her down, and blinked wearily in the sunlight.

"That's the river," she yawned, "you…" another yawn, "walked all night?"

"Yep," Tara smiled, "we're a long way from the forest now."

"Oh…good…" the girl nodded sleepily. "If there's a boat…the fifth board," she pointed lazily towards the beginning of the pier, "flags…red is for trading…use the white one. It," she paused for another emphatic yawn, "means we want to talk. The boat'll stop for you."

"Thanks sweetie," Tara said.

"Get some rest now," Willow smiled, stroking the girl's tangled auburn hair, "we'll wake you when a boat comes along."

"Okay," Amalee agreed, "g'night…thank you…" she added as she drifted off to sleep. Willow and Tara glanced at each other and shared a smile, then Tara looked away down-river.

"Nothing in sight yet," she said, "but with the river traffic we saw at the dock, something should be along before nightfall. One of us should stay awake anyway – ."

"I will," Willow said.

"You're sure?" Tara checked, doing her best not to look too tired.

"Sure," Willow nodded. "I'll wake you after you've had a nap and we can swap. Come on, I'll give you that massage I promised, and you can doze off for a while. It doesn't make sense to do it the other way around, you'd get all relaxed and then have to stay awake."

"Okay," Tara allowed, smiling slightly as she realized she sounded like Amalee, reluctantly giving in to reason when part of her wanted to take all the burden on herself. "I guess I could use it," she added, flexing her arms, "heh, that's odd…my arms feel all springy."

"Yeah?" Willow asked, laying out the last remaining blankets on the soft ground beside the pier for Tara to lie on.

"Well, I've been holding them up against a weight for so long, now they just want to push upwards…I try to relax and they just sort of drift upwards." She demonstrated with a grin, as her arms refused to fall to her sides.

"Lie down, you," Willow said fondly, "let's see what we can do about these tired muscles of yours. It can't be more than a day or two to Duncraig by boat, and you're going to need to be in top condition once we get there."

"Oh?"

"I bet there's a big, warm, cozy bed waiting for us," Willow grinned, "and I intend to make full use of it for more than just sleeping."

"Oh…" Tara smiled as she lay down. While she settled herself, Willow peered at the first few boards of the pier, which this far back were laying directly on the ground, and lifted up the edge of the fifth one along. Just as Amalee had said, there were a pair of wooden poles with oilskin wrappings around their tops, and colored material peeking out from underneath, as well as an old, roughly-made fishing rod and a couple of reels of line.

"There's our flags," she noted, turning to Tara, who was lying flat on her stomach, her head tilted sideways to look up at Willow.

"Oh baby, that's an inviting sight," Willow purred, surveying Tara's back and legs. Without quite shaking off her devilish grin she swung herself astride Tara's hips, leaning forward and reaching out to wrap her fingers around Tara's upper arms.

"Ahhhh…" Tara sighed, as Willow's hands went to work, kneading the tired muscles along the length of her arms.

"I read a book about this once," Willow said softly, "see, it's just as well I read so much, isn't it? You never know the kind of useful information I could pick up."

"Mmm," Tara agreed, "useful…and divine…is it some kind of magic?" she asked with a chuckle.

"The best kind," Willow joked.

"Feels like it," Tara sighed happily.

"Don't get too worked up, you're supposed to be relaxing," Willow chided her tenderly. "You've had a big day…and night…hey, I meant to tell you, you were really great back there, during the ambush. All strong and sure and, and powerful…that was some magic you did too, any lightning sorceress would be proud to master a spell like that."

"Well," Tara said indistinctly, "it wasn't…just me…"

"Yeah, I know, your goddess too," Willow nodded, "but that doesn't mean you weren't amazing. Gods forbid that sort of thing happen to us on a regular basis, but you know, I can't think of anyone, not even the most powerful sorceresses in the Zann Esu, I'd feel safer beside. When you did that spell, the determination, what I saw in your eyes…I knew we'd make it."

"Thank you," Tara murmured, "love…you know, that was…something I've never felt before…and when it was over, the feeling then…oh that's nice," she sighed as Willow squeezed her forearms lovingly, "the feeling when they'd scattered, and you'd defeated the leader…I think maybe I understand how people can choose to live their lives as soldiers, or adventurers…knowing the cause was good…standing there, just you and me, against something evil, and holding it back…quite a feeling."

"Yeah," Willow admitted, "I felt it too. They say victory tastes sweet."

"Mmm," Tara nodded slightly, "yeah…not that I'd make…a habit of it. Couldn't be a soldier…I couldn't do that, fight like that, unless I chose to…not because of orders… you'd have to," she yawned, "to trust…your commander, completely…to make the right choices…I can only trust…you like that…"

"Thank you, baby," Willow murmured, leaning down to nudge Tara's hair out of her way and place a kiss on the back of her neck. "I trust you too, completely. You know that, don't you?"

"I know," Tara sighed contentedly, "you didn't hesitate…when I told you to cast your armor over us."

"When you say 'trust me', there's nothing to hesitate about. Especially when you say it in that take-charge voice," Willow sighed at the memory, "you know, not that fighting is a good thing, necessary, sure, sometimes, but not what I'd really want to do with my life, or for you to do with yours, but…" she paused, and a smile spread across her face, "the way you were back there, that was actually a bit of a turn on."

"A bit?" Tara asked slyly.

"Okay, a lot," Willow admitted with a chuckle.

"Luckily," Tara murmured, "I don't have to be in a fight to take charge…I can do it just fine in a bed, too…"

"I've never been in any doubt of that," Willow assured her.

"And you know," Tara went on, "when you were fighting the leader…" she looked back at Willow and raised an eyebrow seductively.

"Oh…really?" Willow grinned, suddenly too pleased with herself for words.

"Mmm-hmm," Tara nodded, laying her head back down, "I was worried of course… to see you fighting that thing…frightening…but at the same time…wow…"

"Oh," Willow grinned, surprised, "me? Wow?"

"Always wow you," Tara replied sleepily. She lifted her head, with some effort, and glanced over her shoulder as she felt Willow loosen the laces of her armor.

"Relax," Willow said lightly, "I'm just making sure I earn my wow…besides, it's calm here, nothing to threaten us…it's broad daylight and I can see easily a mile back up to the highlands before it gets rough, so nothing can surprise us…and Amalee's fast asleep," she added, checking quickly with a glance over her shoulder. "And you, my luscious Amazon, are lying beneath me, and your skin feels so good underneath my hands…if I didn't get amorous thoughts from a situation like this, something would be wrong with me."

"Heh," Tara chuckled, "well then…I'm in your hands…"

"Uh-huh," Willow agreed, gently sliding the unfastened armor out from beneath Tara, folding the last available blanket over her waist, ready to cover her when she was done. She lay her palms on Tara's naked back and slowly dragged them down to her waist, curling her fingers just enough to scratch lightly on Tara's skin.

"Ohhhh," Tara sighed, "do that again…" Willow complied, earning another dreamy sigh.

"Arms feel good," Tara commented lazily, crossing her forearms beneath her head as a pillow as she relaxed under Willow's hands.

"Good," Willow said, "that just leaves the rest of you…" She leaned down and kissed Tara's back here and there, finally making her way up to Tara's ear while her hands continued to stroke and knead their way around.

"Go to sleep," she whispered, "and dream of what else my hands might do with you."

"Mmm," Tara murmured, "love you…thank you…beautiful…"

"You're welcome," Willow said, sensing Tara falling asleep even as she spoke. She continued lovingly stroking her back for some time, occasionally pressing firmly but mostly just enjoying the feel of her, marveling at her perfection and thanking all the gods she could think of that they had come through the nightmare behind them unscathed. Her stroking became lighter until finally she was merely running her fingertips across Tara's skin, and, careful not to disturb the sleeping Amazon, she swung herself off her hips and pulled the blanket up over her back.

"Sleep well," she whispered, "I'll be here when you wake up." She sat for a moment, watching Tara sleep, then with a last smile got up and wandered around a little. She checked on Amalee, who was fast asleep, but with a tiny, worried frown marring her face. Willow sat down beside her and stroked her hair for a moment until the frown disappeared, then got back up, not quite trusting herself to relax for fear she might fall asleep without meaning to. She wandered a little way out onto the pier, where the breeze along the river brushed against her face, making her feel a little more alert. Frequently gazing back at Tara on the grass and Amalee in the little shack, she paced lazily to and fro along the pier's length.

'Not such a bad little adventure, all things considered,' she mused, stepping off the pier for a moment to kneel on the riverbank and splash a little water on her face. 'We're both still in one piece, plus we've got a bunch more blankets, some torches, a couple of books, and hey, an adorable little girl. Considering we started out running for our lives across unknown territory with no time to prepare, things turned out pretty well. Now there's just the vengeful demon queen to worry about.' On that thought, she meandered back to the shack and picked the summoner mage's diary from her satchel, leafing through the pages as she walked back along the pier.

'Okay, we're not in imminent danger, and I'll be damned if I'm waking Tara up before, oh, an hour before midday, she deserves a decent nap. Might as well put this old brain of mine to work. Lemme see…' She found the pages detailing the mage's preparations to summon a storm caster, and took careful note of the equipment he described using, the rituals he prepared, and the steps he took to cast his spell and protect himself.

"How did you contact a demon like Shadai?" she muttered to the book, reading it closely. That had bothered her ever since she and Tara had gone through the mage's room and found out his plans, and the fate that had befallen him, and ultimately driven him to death. 'Mage plans to summon some minor demon to do his foul bidding. Okay, fine, no problem, it's a classic in the ambition-before-wisdom tales. But how do you go from reaching out to a storm caster, a crummy little construct entity that's half-bound to the mortal realm already, to accidentally making contact with one of the most powerful demons in history, trapped in the deepest realms of the burning hells? You can't do that, it takes too much energy…I mean, the summoner in Entsteig turned out to be a Vizjerei prodigy, according to their records he'd been casting twentieth-tier elemental and druidic magic by the time he was five. And this guy here is just some lowly Ennead scholar who was jealous of his masters' powers. If he'd wanted to reach Shadai he shouldn't have been able to, not with twenty years' preparation and a hundred apprentices assisting him.'

She sighed, and remembered one of the lessons Ember had taught her: collect your information first, then form conclusions. She went over the details she had gathered and pieced them together. 'Okay, our guy had the Black Tome, so he knew where to find a fracture point in the mortal realm barriers. Let's see…he used a threefold circle with split points and a pentagram binding pattern, that's all pretty standard for this kind of thing. He had a pair of strangler blossoms, so that might've helped extend the extra-planar range of the spell…let's be generous and say he was aiming for a fifth-tier storm caster, and the spell would've worked…add up the power bases…factor in planetary forces…planar shifts…' She spent a moment doing esoteric magical calculations before reaching her conclusion:

"No way," she said out loud. The conclusions were quite clear – even using the most optimistic projections, the mage should have been absolutely incapable of projecting his spell's energy deep enough into the realms beyond the mortal plane to contact a demon like Shadai. 'Even a demon one-tenth of her power,' Willow mused, 'it's just not possible. What am I missing?'

Another of Ember's teachings came to her. 'If it's not working,' she had said once, speaking about one of Willow's early attempts to decode a manuscript in the Order's vaults, 'remember it doesn't mean you're doing everything wrong. Just one minor detail can upset an otherwise perfect structure of logic. Find the detail, and it'll work.' Just as she had said, Willow had discovered two nights later that her translation notes were partly based on an old Horadrim scroll that, it seemed, had been rewritten itself by a none-too-careful translator at some stage. Once she had discovered that, the manuscript she was working on practically decoded itself.

'Okay then,' she thought, 'let's see what we're basing all this on. Our summoner was in contact with Shadai, do we know this for sure? He called the demon 'Mistress', that means it's a female, and there aren't many. She created a rod of command, only two female demons could do that, and Andariel was soundly defeated during the Reckoning. Let's say we're ninety-nine per cent sure it's Shadai we're dealing with. That's sensible; besides, Andariel is more powerful, that just makes the whole problem more illogical. Okay, our mage was in contact with Shadai, let's call that a fact. That began during his summoning ritual, fact. Therefore the ritual reached Shadai. That's all solid. How could the ritual reach her? A third party boosted the spell? Never heard of anything like that happening. In fact, no, a split-point circle can't be externally influenced without disturbing it and collapsing the spell. Okay, so the ritual must, from our mage alone, have had the power to reach Shadai.

'And that's impossible. What's the detail that's wrong? Our mage had that kind of power? No, if that were true he wouldn't have needed a storm caster, that'd be like a soldier ignoring his sword and searching for a penknife to fight with. Shadai dwells on, what, the fortieth arc of the sixth circle of hell? And this spell, at most, could have reached the first arc of the tenth boundary, not even the first circle. But he reached Shadai. His spell had the range to get to her…' Willow felt a chill race down her spine that had nothing to do with the lively breeze blowing along the river.

'Shadai was within the spell's range. She wasn't where she should be, she was somewhere closer. Some other part of hell, an outer boundary region? No, if a demon is banished, they're banished back to their proper place, that's never failed, not in any banishing that's ever been recorded. So…she wasn't sent back to hell. She wasn't banished!'

"Aw crap!" she said out loud, snapping the diary shut.

'Okay, calm down, think logically,' she admonished herself, 'she's not walking the earth, you know that. People tend to notice a huge demon queen who makes the sky burn and water turn to blood. If she'd escaped from the hospice somehow, we'd all know by now. Something else happened. She wasn't banished, but she didn't escape, she went…somewhere else. Where else can you go?' She paced back and forth, thinking furiously. 'Trans-planar regions? No, too discordant, any consciousness that stayed there for more than a few seconds would be broken apart, and she'd end up being banished back to hell anyway. Dimensional bridging? No, not with a demon, no matter how powerful. Ethereal realms? The ethereal realms,' she fixed on the thought, sensing a possibility, 'it'd be dangerous…the risk of failure, of being banished, maybe even diminished in power as a result…a demon would have to be desperate…'

An image formed in Willow's mind, of Shadai in the hospice, roaring in desperate rage as her form was torn apart by fire, ice and lightning. A demon bent on inflicting pain and torment on the living, bound in hell for centuries upon centuries, brought to the mortal plane against all odds, and facing banishment before the last strands of her summoning spell had even worn off.

'Yeah, she was desperate enough,' Willow thought glumly. She glanced at Tara, sleeping peacefully on the grass. 'Oh damn, I have to tell her, don't I? Damn it, of course I have to tell her, she's not a child. I can at least let her sleep, though, and tell her when I wake her later. No sense disturbing her now, a couple of hours won't make a difference. It's not like there's anything we can do about it now, except get to Duncraig and contact the Order, and whatever mages they have there.' She sighed, and returned to her pacing, nonetheless trying to work out what rituals would need to be done, how Shadai might safely be found and banished properly, what complications would arise from trying to deal with a demon trapped in an ethereal realm compared to one clad in flesh and blood.

Tara stirred and woke slowly, smiling at the feel of Willow's hand against her cheek. She leaned her head sideways to kiss her palm, then opened her eyes and blinked in the light from the sun, now high in the sky.

"I can see a sail off to the south," Willow said as Tara rolled over and sat up, forgetting she was half-naked until the blanket fell off her.

"A boat?" Tara asked.

"Wha? Oh…yeah, yeah, heading up river, it'll be here in maybe ten minutes or so," Willow said, recovering from her distraction and forcing her eyes up from Tara's breasts to her face. Tara smiled slyly and demurely held the blanket over her chest, reaching her other arm around Willow's shoulders to draw her close for a kiss. Willow, already distracted, forgot everything for a moment as Tara's lips opened hers, and both enjoyed the kiss wholeheartedly until Tara finally leaned back a fraction.

"I was a little sleepy before," she purred, "did I remember to tell you I love you?"

"I-I think you did," Willow said, grinning from ear to ear.

"Well, no reason not to say it again," Tara smiled.

"I love you too," Willow said. "Oh," she realized, "heh, that proves it, you really do make my brain switch off when you kiss me, I forgot completely…anyway, I'd better tell you before we wake Amalee, it's not really happy news."

"What?" Tara asked, concerned as she pulled on her armor.

"Um, I was doing some thinking," Willow explained, "about the mage and Shadai, and how they were able to do what they did, you remember I was saying it shouldn't have been possible…well, I figured out how to explain it…"

Tara listened carefully as Willow outlined her theory, and even as Willow felt mostly regret at having to burden her with the knowledge that all was not well, she was nonetheless impressed at how easily she seemed to grasp the mechanics of summoning and banishing as they were explained to her.

"Okay," Tara said when Willow had finished, "so Shadai is in an ethereal realm. You said trapped?"

"Yeah," Willow nodded, "yeah, if she could get out she would have, and everything would be, you know, world-wide chaos and destruction, the dead rising, demons marching to war…it'd make the last few days look like a holiday, so yeah, I figure whatever realm she hid in, she's stuck there until someone else breaks her free. Which is what Hydris tried to do, and what the mage at the monastery was going to do."

"And that summoning would be much easier than summoning Shadai from hell?" Tara asked.

"Oh yeah," Willow agreed grimly, as Tara, now fully-dressed, walked with her to the end of the pier, where Willow held up the white flag in the breeze for the distant boat to see.

"Yeah, in dimensional terms, the ethereal planes are right next door to us," she went on, "summoning something out of them is…well, it's tricky, but it takes expertise, not power. Most mages could learn how to do it, if they wanted to. It's just that normally the ethereal realms don't have anything in them that anyone would want to summon – not that anyone in their right mind would want to summon anything, I mean, but…well, it's just disembodied anger and misery. It's happened now and then that a disreputable mage would summon and bind a specter or a wraith, which live in the ethereal realms, to guard their secrets from intruders, but they're pretty unreliable, difficult to really control, not very bright…prone to not noticing things happening around them. If you're lucky, you could walk right through a wraith without it noticing, they're pretty crude consciousnesses."

"But now Shadai is trapped in an ethereal realm," Tara said, "that's how she snared the mages we've encountered?"

"Probably," Willow said, "a summoning, for a storm caster for example, would reach through the ethereal realms to the planes beyond, and eventually to the various regions of hell. So…well, in spiritual terms, she's got a big rope trap out waiting for any fool who tries to summon anything, and when she catches someone, she tries to bend them to her will, and make them summon her."

"What can we do?" Tara asked, her face hardening into the determination that Willow was coming to recognize, and put much of her faith in.

"Here and now, nothing," she said, "but when we get to Duncraig I'll talk to their mages, and send messages as fast as I can to the Order. They'll start working on detection spells, to find out where exactly she is – if no-one's sensed her presence, that means she's hiding pretty deep – and once they find her, probably a bunch of the most powerful sorceresses will work together on a banishing. The Vizjerei will work on it as well, and the other clans. The clans don't always get along, but when it comes to demons we all know which side we're on."

"Alright," Tara said, "so there's no immediate danger?"

"Yes and no," Willow said with a miserable shrug, "judging by what's happened so far, Shadai can't actually reach out into the world and do anything by herself, so we're safe from her directly. But there's always a couple of idiots in far-flung places dabbling in summoning. As long as this goes on, any one of them could reach her, and bring her back. And," she paused and looked sadly at Tara, "it does kind of seem that whenever that happens, they're going to come after me." Tara quickly wrapped her in a tight hug, pressing herself against Willow.

"We'll be okay," she whispered in her ear, "we've survived so far, and now we know what we're up against, and we're just a couple of days away from the biggest city in Westmarch. She won't get you Willow, I promise you that." She pulled back just far enough to meet Willow's gaze.

"You're mine," she said tenderly, "and I'm yours, I'm not complete without you. There's no way I'm going to let some horrible bitch of a demon take you away from me. I promise."

"I…" Willow hesitated, heartened by Tara's words, yet still distraught. "How do you do that? How can you make me feel safe when there's this, this thing out there, waiting for a chance to get at me? Oh gods, this is…it's not fair, you don't deserve this…hell, I don't deserve this, we don't…"

"No, we don't," Tara agreed, "but this is what we've got, so we'll deal with it together."

"How can you be so strong?" Willow asked, tears streaking her face.

"Because I have you," Tara said gently, "no matter what happens, I have you. It'll be alright," she soothed Willow, hugging her again, "we're not alone…we'll have your Order, and the other mages, all of them with us, working to defeat her and send her back to hell where she'll never be able to hurt us again." She smiled, then laughed joyously.

"What?" Willow said, grinning despite herself. It felt good, no matter what, to hear Tara laugh.

"This is it," Tara said, "don't you see? We didn't know why she was causing all this, how she was reaching us, but now we know how to stop it!"

"You're…you're right," Willow said with a sheepish smile, "gods, I didn't think…we can put a stop to it. You're right, it's a good thing. Definitely a good thing." She wiped her tears away and smiled properly, then she hugged Tara again, and kissed her passionately, feeling her heart lift at the prospect of an end to their troubles. Tara leaned back against one of the pier's upright pylons, fully enjoying the feeling of Willow sucking on her lip, darting her tongue into her mouth, kissing her way across her cheek and finally licking and sucking her earlobe.

"Mmm…oh," Tara sighed as Willow's tongue flicked against her ear, "oh baby… okay, gotta stop now," she panted, "boat'll be here soon…any more and I'm going to drag you into the long grass right now…" Willow leaned back with a thoroughly gleeful smile on her face.

"You've certainly got a way with those lips of yours," Tara grinned.

"And that's after more than a full day on my feet," Willow replied, "just imagine what I'll be like fully rested and ready to play."

"If I imagine that I don't think I'll be able to stay standing up," Tara said, reaching out to give Willow a squeeze on her hip. They both giggled, then glanced along the river towards the sail, which was rapidly approaching, enough that they could both make out the shape of the boat beneath it.

As the boat neared they saw it was actually two hulls, with a wide deck spanning the gap between them, deep enough to be a cargo hold. It had two masts, the taller one bearing a slanted triangular sail, fully unfurled and rounded with wind, the other one smaller, set forward of the main mast, and with its sail rolled up. Tara, with her keener eyesight, made out the designs on the two flags flying from the main mast, and from her descriptions Willow identified one as the flag of a Duncraig merchant trader, and the other as the city flag of Lut Gholein, the capital of the desert realm of Aranoch. A tiny figure waved at them from the prow of the nearer hull, and the craft slowed, the sail rippling as it spilled wind, and two people made their way down to the rear of the hull, where they busied themselves about a small launch tethered there.

"I'll go wake Amalee," Willow offered, now that it was evident the boat was stopping for them. Tara nodded, and a moment later Willow rejoined her, carrying their bags and weapons, with Amalee in tow, wiping the sleep from her eyes.

"It's the Genie," she said, "daddy used to trade with them sometimes. I think we can trust them," she added, glancing up at Willow and Tara.

"Good," Willow smiled, putting an arm around her shoulder, keeping her other around Tara's waist on her other side. The small launch eventually detached itself from the boat, overtaking it easily with its single sail full and speeding towards the pier. There were two men aboard: one, who seemed to be the captain, stood on the prow, dressed in a long, bright blue coat with a gray sash across his chest. The other was dressed in a similar coat, though less colorful, and stood further back, keeping hold of the sail ropes and the tiller.

The crewman brought the launch sliding up to the end of the pier with some precision, and tossed a rope which Tara caught and looped loosely around one of the pylons. The captain stepped up off the prow onto the pier and gave the three women standing there a measured stare. He was not notably tall or heavily-built, but he had an air of easy authority about him, something that suggested a steel edge beneath his genial smile and casual manner. He wore a blue turban, matching his coat, which Willow and Tara now saw was delicately embroidered with geometric patterns along its edges, and beneath it, on a wide belt, was a sheathed sword, a curved scimitar with tiny jewels glinting on the hilt. He had a long, carefully cut moustache and a devilish-looking pointed beard, and his skin was coffee-colored, which offset his eyes, pale blue and lively, moving across Willow and Tara's faces, pausing on Tara's spear and the bows across their backs. The other man, similar-looking but broader across the shoulders, and with his face clean-shaven, stayed on the launch, tightening the mooring rope and keeping the tiller steady.

"Salaam," he said, nodding and touching the fingers of his right hand to his forehead. "What might – wait," he interrupted himself, staring at Amalee, "I know you, don't I?"

"Hello," she replied with a smile. The man smiled in return, then looked back at Willow and Tara.

"But I don't know you," he said, cautiously but not impolitely.

"Salaam," Willow said, touching her forehead, "I'm Willow of the Zann Esu, this is Tara of the Amazons," Tara copied the greeting gesture, "we need your help."

"There is trouble?" the man asked. "The girl's father…?" he added, his voice quieter, for form's sake, though there was no way to keep Amalee from hearing, standing so close. Willow shook her head.

"The villages and monastery inland were destroyed," Willow explained quietly, "our caravan was attacked further west, and we were making for the river. She was the only person we found." The man's face fell, as he made no effort to conceal how he was struck by the news.

"Oh, little one," he said to Amalee, "I am sorry. Your father was a good man."

"Willow and Tara saved me," Amalee said, nodding sadly in acceptance of his sympathy. "They fought off the beast-men and carried me all the way here."

"Can you take us to Duncraig?" Tara asked, as the man looked back at them with a more open gaze.

"That was a noble thing you did," he said, "I am Solaris Ibn Meshif Ibn Teshren, my vessel is the Djinn. I will take you to Duncraig."

"Thank you, Solaris," Willow said.

"Thank you," Tara echoed, accepting the man's help at getting down into the wide body of the launch. Together they helped Amalee down, and once she was seated Willow passed across Tara's pack, her satchel and their other belongings, with Amalee dutifully stowed behind her seat.

"All set?" Solaris asked as Willow took her seat after lifting the mooring rope clear of its pylon. "Don't stand up, we'll be there in no time. My first mate," he added, gesturing to the crewman holding the tiller, who salaamed to them.

"Refash Ibn Jurel Ibn Nerriv," he introduced himself.

"I'd heard talk of some trouble in the lands south of the city," Solaris went on, "but it was just talk, you know how it is. I never imagined it would be so bad…all the villages?"

"I'm afraid so," Willow said, "it's…there was a powerful mage, he died, but there's still demons and creatures everywhere."

"Hmm," Solaris frowned, "sounds like the army will have a job to do when they finish securing the eastern border. And these beast-men, they are demons?"

"Goat-men," Willow said, "there was a clan of them in the forest between here and Kotram."

"Goat-men," Solaris said with a frown, "yes, I've heard of their kind. And you fought them? Then the stories of Amazons and sorceresses don't exaggerate!"

"A whole tribe of them attacked us," Amalee put in enthusiastically, "but Tara made a thunderstorm and the lightning blew up their stone and they all ran, except for the leader, and Willow fought him with her staff, and she froze him and he broke into bits all over the ground!"

"I see," Solaris said, impressed. "Well, this is a story I must hear…but later, perhaps," he added, glancing at Willow and Tara, "you look like you've had a long journey."

"They carried me all night," Amalee offered.

"There were still goat-men around," Willow explained, "it wasn't safe to stay."

"You've earned your rest indeed," Solaris said seriously, "I'm sorry I can't offer you a cabin, but the Djinn has little in the way of luxuries. You'll have mattresses and blankets though, and if a corner of the cargo deck isn't too meager by way of accommodations, it'll be yours until we reach Duncraig, and I'll see you're not disturbed."

"Thank you," Tara said gratefully. Willow nodded, suddenly feeling the weight of her fatigue.

Once the launch nudged up to the stern of the Djinn's port hull and its crew climbed aboard the larger vessel, Solaris proved as good as his word, pausing only to tell his helmsman to tighten the sails before he and Refash busied themselves preparing a place for their guests. The cargo deck was slung between the two hulls, with a raised walkway on either side and a pair of tiny cabins to the rear, which Solaris said apologetically were already occupied. Nonetheless he provided admirably for Willow, Tara and Amalee, digging out mattresses, blankets and padded cushions from storage lockers, arranging them in a space at the front of the deck, with the starboard hull on one side, a tall crate behind, and the metre's clearance beneath the walkway providing a sheltered space in which to set up a temporary bed. Refash fixed a tarpaulin in place over the gap between the crate and the forward rail, giving them some privacy, and offered to find another for a makeshift roof, though he promised he would make sure no-one went forward on the starboard walkway, from where they might be able to look down on the little sleeping area. Solaris vanished for a moment, and returned with three simple cotton shifts, a bowl of dried fruit and bread and a bottle of juice.

"We always carry extra stores," he said, "just in case, and we're only a day from port now, so there's food to spare. If you need anything I'll be aft."

"Thank you," Tara said, as Willow and Amalee disappeared behind the tarpaulin to prepare for their rest.

"God bless you both," Solaris said, "the girl's father will be glad that she is in your care." With that he turned and walked back between the crates towards the aft deck. Up above the mainsail filled with air and the boat picked up speed, sending a breeze across the deck. Tara lifted the corner of the tarpaulin and crawled through, finding the space beyond sheltered from the wind for the most part, letting in only a little draft from the open area in front, where the river stretched out ahead of them.

Amalee was already asleep, curled up beneath some blankets against the side of the hull. Willow was wearily undoing her armor, which Tara helped her with, receiving a grateful smile as her fingers quickly undid the buckles and straps holding the leather in place, while Willow switched her attention to pulling off her boots. Willow reached for a shift once Tara finished taking her armor off, but Tara touched the back of her hand, stilling it, and enfolded her in a warm, tender hug, laying her head on Willow's shoulder.

"We made it," she whispered, loving the feel of Willow's almost-naked body in her arms.

"We did," Willow agreed. She glanced down into her lap. "Silly underwear and all," she added with a quiet chuckle. Tara looked at the thin silk which was Willow's only clothing at that moment, and joined her gentle laughter.

"I'm going to get something like that when we reach Duncraig," she said idly as Willow pulled on a shift.

"Ooh, promise?" Willow sighed.

"Oh yeah," Tara smiled, as Willow lay down. Tara took off her own armor and boots as Willow arranged the bedding around herself, reaching an arm out on top of the blankets to rest around Amalee's waist as she slept, which brought a little smile to the girl's face. She glanced back over her shoulder as Tara settled down behind her, her arm staying under the blankets, hugging Willow.

"I love you," she whispered. Tara smiled and kissed her shoulder.

"I know," she replied, "I love you too. Sweet dreams, my Willow…"

"Mmm-hmm," Willow agreed, as both of them fell asleep.

Chapter 44

Tara awoke gently, to the light breeze off the river and the slow swaying of the deck beneath her, and most importantly to the feel of Willow in her arms. She had turned over in her sleep at some point, cuddling up against Tara with her arms tight around her, one leg thrown over Tara's waist, her calf pressing in behind Tara's thighs, holding her close. Her face was buried in Tara's hair, pressed against her neck, and Tara could have sworn she could feel the smile on her lips.

She slowly let her hands roam up and down Willow's back, one staying high on her shoulders, holding her, the other teasing aside the shift which had ridden up around Willow's waist, stroking her naked skin. Tara felt the breeze on the backs of her arms, and realized that their blankets had been pushed down, probably somewhere in the process of Willow rolling over and wrapping herself around her, so that only their hips and legs were covered by it. Tara sighed as she felt a cloud pass over head and sunlight fall on her and Willow, then her lips widened into a gleeful smile as she felt Willow's kiss against her neck.

Willow murmured sleepily as Tara gently crept her hand over her hip and down onto her stomach, rolling her onto her back even as she continued nuzzling tender kisses onto Tara's neck. Tara smiled as Willow's lips found her ear, and for a moment she contented herself with caressing Willow's stomach, sneaking the tips of her fingers beneath her shift now and then, and feeling the results conveyed to her through Willow's nibbling and sucking on her earlobe. She pressed her hand flat against Willow's abdomen, fingers splayed to touch as much of the warm, smooth skin as she could, truly felt Willow's lips curl into a smile against her neck, and dreamily opened her eyes to see the smile for herself.

Amalee was sitting up against the boat's hull, just on the other side of Willow, watching curiously, with a mildly perplexed look about her. Tara's eyes widened and her hand jerked out from beneath Willow's shift, which in turn startled Willow awake.

"Wha? Huh?" she asked, her voice thick with sleep. Tara felt herself go bright red with embarrassment, but made herself meet the girl's curious stare levelly.

"Hi," Amalee said, and Tara relaxed a little to hear the familiar brightness in her voice – no condemnation, no accusation. If anything, the girl seemed to be slightly gleeful at having caught her off- guard, as if she had been sneaking into the kitchen for a midnight snack.

"Um, hi sweetie," she replied with a sheepish grin.

"Hm? Oh…hi," Willow said, finally waking up enough to follow Tara's gaze and see Amalee. She looked back at Tara for a moment, then her eyes widened as she caught up on recent events, and she fought to keep her blush down, and not smile too much.' Busted,' she mouthed to Tara, and it was only Tara's anxiety over how their young companion wound react to what she had seen that kept her from giggling.

"Are you in love with each other?" Amalee asked.

'Right to the point,' Tara mused, 'but what do I say? She's young, she's from a little village, probably educated by the church mostly…does she think this is a sin or something? What do I say? Oh well…'

"Yes sweetie," she said, "we're in love." Really, what other answer was there? To Tara's relief Amalee just nodded to herself, accepting this the same way she had accepted everything else she had learned since they had found her. She felt Willow relax, and realized they were still wrapped in a tight hug.

"Can women be in love with each other?" Amalee asked. "Isn't it just men and women?"

"Well…no," Tara said, taking a deep breath, "women can be in love with each other. Usually it's a man and a woman who fall in love, but not always. I-I know that the church doesn't agree, but where I come from it's normal for people to be in love with whoever they feel that way about, whether they're men or women." She cringed a little, studying Amalee's face as she tried to work out how she was taking it. Was she explaining too much…or being condescending?

"Oh," the girl said, "okay."

"A-are you okay?" Willow asked, disengaging herself gently from Tara. "Does it bother you that we're- "

"I don't think so," Amalee said, her expression changing to thoughtful introspection – Tara had to smile at how adorable she looked, she had a little of the same quality as Willow did when she was mulling over a problem.

"I don't know," she went on, "are Amazons different to other people? Or is everyone the same?"

"Um, well, we believe different things," Tara said hesitantly, "but otherwise, I think we're just the same as everyone else. It's not just us that…where women are sometimes in love."

"What do they think in the city?" Amalee asked warily. "Do they think it's okay, or are they like the church and think it's wrong?"

"I don't know," Tara admitted, "I guess we'll find out when we get there." She gave a little shrug.

"We're not going to hide how we feel, though," Willow added, straightening her shift and sitting up.

"They shouldn't think you're bad for being in love," Amalee said indignantly.

"Well, I hope they don't," Tara said. Amalee nodded decisively, then stood up and looked around.

"Mister Solaris said they had some bread rolls and stuff if I got hungry before dinner, is it okay if I go get one?" she asked.

"Sure sweetie," Tara said, "just be careful not to go near the edge of the deck."

"I won't," Amalee replied, in a 'don't be silly' tone of voice. Tara and Willow shared a smile as she buttoned up the neck of her shift and scuttled off between the crates.

"Should one of us stay with her?" Willow asked. "Not that I'm worried or anything, just, you know… heh, I guess I've sort of got into this way of thinking where it's us and everything else, and everything else is out to get us."

"It did seem like that for a while, didn't it?" Tara agreed. "I think we're safe here. I mean, so long as we don't run into, oh, pirates, or whatever they have on rivers to mess up your day. The captain's an honest man, I'm sure, and honorable. I got a very strong sense from him…I don't think a little girl like Amalee would have anything to fear on his boat."

"Good," Willow said emphatically, "she deserves a break…poor girl. Oh, heh, um, sorry about earlier… you know, the snuggling and all that…I didn't realize she was watching."

"Neither did I," Tara shrugged, "still, it didn't seem to bother her, so no harm done. And hey, it's not like you were the only one doing the snuggling."

"Yeah, that's true," Willow smiled, "even half asleep there's no mistaking the feel of Tara-hands getting adventurous." She shot Tara a grin. "There's just no stopping you, is there? That little lake a few days ago, and then in the catacombs," she shrugged helplessly, "any time you get half a chance, you're all over me."

"And you love it," Tara purred, sitting up behind Willow and slipping her hands underneath the material draped over her hips.

"Mmmyeah," Willow agreed, covering Tara's hands with her own, "yeah, I do…" Tara caressed her hips for a moment, playfully squeezing and kneading at Willow, then kissed her on the back of her neck and gave her a light swat on her bottom.

"Hey!" Willow protested, turning to face Tara. "Now you're deliberately turning me on."

"Uh-huh," Tara nodded, "pity this isn't really private." She stretched languidly. "I guess you'll just have to restrain yourself for a little while longer."

"Just you wait," Willow warned gleefully, "the moment I get you alone somewhere…" Tara met her stare, and in unison their smiles broadened, and broke into laughter.

"About Amalee," Willow said, a moment later as she and Tara were donning their armor, "you don't think the might get into trouble? I mean, from what I've heard Duncraig is a pretty liberal place, but…well, I don't like the thought of her telling people about us, and our adventure, and, you know, if she leaves in the part where we're in love, and someone objects…not that it's something we should be hiding, but, well, she's just a kid…" She gave Tara a worried look.

"She's a smart girl," Tara said, "more than most children her age, I think, especially from such a remote upbringing. I think she'll be okay. Besides, it's not like she's going to be on her own. This uncle of hers…"

"We'll see what he's like," Willow said, "make sure he's, you know, that he'll take care of her properly. She deserves a proper family, not just someone who keeps her fed and clothed because it's an obligation, or something like that."

"We'll make sure she's got a good home," Tara promised. She stood up and reached out a hand to Willow, pulling her to her feet and into a hug.

"See?" Willow pointed out. "Any chance you get…"

"Oh, you know how it is," Tara replied with forces casualness, "you're too luscious for me not to take every opportunity…" She leaned closer and kissed Willow, enjoying the little whimpers that came up her throat as she parted her lips and explored within, and the way Willow's hands clutched reflexively at her back as their tongues met and mingled.

"Oh yeah," Willow said breathlessly when their lips parted, "I know exactly…how it is…" They walked out onto the cargo deck, hand in hand, finding Amalee sitting with her back against a crate, looking out over the river ahead of them.

"It'll be dark soon," she explained, "Mister Solaris said you can see the city's lights when it gets dark." She resumed her scrutiny of the horizon, munching happily on a slice of nutbread. Willow hopped up onto the crate, swinging her legs off its edge, and Tara leant up against it, one hand lazily trailing up and down Willow's thigh.

"So is 'Solaris' the proper name for our captain?" Tara asked Willow. "I wasn't sure how to address him, after he introduced himself."

"Oh, he's from Lut Gholein," Willow explained, "they go in for long names there. That was sort of a formal greeting, but yeah, in normal conversation he'd be just Solaris. Or 'captain', it he wants, I guess."

"Is the rest a family name?" Tara asked.

"Ancestors," Willow said, "on the male side…they're a little patriarchal in Aranoch, though the current Lord is supposedly big on making everything equal. But the names are an old tradition – 'ibn' means 'son of', so he's Solaris son of Meshif son of Teshren. Sometimes they include their ancestral land, or their tribe if they're descended from nomads, but families who've lived in the cities for a while don't always bother with that. I guess in this case, maybe he'd consider the boat his home, but there isn't a naming tradition that includes boats. They're a desert people originally." Tara nodded thoughtfully.

"Actually," she said, "those naming traditions are a bit like what we use for ceremonies back home."

"You have extended names?" Willow asked. "What's yours?"

"Well," Tara said, "the ceremonial name is, like you'd expect, only required in ceremonies – during worship, or formal occasions, we don't use them for introductions. The tradition is that an Amazon's name, as spoken in a ceremony, says who he or she is, what…what defines them, as a person, what makes that person who he or she truly is. So they can change, as people change, and depending on the ceremony being conducted the name might change as well. Only the Amazon herself – or himself, you get the idea – can speak her name in full, or give permission for others to speak it. Names used to be a lot more important and significant, mostly no-one thinks of them nowadays unless they're needed for a ritual or a ceremony. The last time I spoke my full name was when I began my training, years ago. Then I gave my name as Tara nela Selena."

"'Daughter of'," Willow translated, and Tara nodded.

"I didn't become a warrior just to follow in my mother's footsteps," she explained, "but her memory was part of my decision, and the most important influence on me then, as a warrior trainee. It's common nowadays, at least until you become an adult, to have your mother or father as part of your ceremonial name." She paused, and smiled up at Willow.

"But now," she said her voice softening, and growing more serious at the same time, "my full name, by which our gods and goddesses call me, is Tara lal Willow, and you may call me that whenever you wish."

"'Lal'…?" Willow asked, searching her memory, a smile already forming on her lips.

"'Beloved of'," Tara translated. Willow bit her lip, and her eyes filled with moisture.

"Of course, it's just an old tradition," Tara went on, smiling and reaching up to wipe away the joyous tears that rolled over her cheeks, "if you hadn't reminded me of it I probably wouldn't have thought of it. Still, it's important, even today, to allow another person to speak your full name. I-I'm glad you reminded me of it, actually…"

"Tara lal Willow," Willow whispered. Tara put a finger on her cheek and gently guided her down, bringing their faces level.

"Just the way you say 'Tara' is enough," she murmured, "I feel so loved…" They kissed again, slowly and tenderly at first. Willow was the first to reach her fingers through Tara's hair and hold her close, delving into her mouth, while Tara cupped Willow's cheeks in her hands and blissfully surrendered herself to Willow's lips. They stayed together, foreheads touching, even after their lips parted. Amalee, who had glanced back at them, rolled her eyes, gave a theatrical sigh, and turned back to the view of the river. Both Willow and Tara fought an attack of the giggles.

"Well then," Tara said, putting a hand to her cheek to calm herself, "I don't know about you, but I could use a meal."

"Sounds good," Willow agreed. "I'll say this, travel by river is a lot better than on the open seas. All that tossing about, the last thing I wanted was to think about food."

"This boat doesn't roll much," Tara commented, taking Willow's hand as she hopped down from her perch on the crate.

"I haven't ever seen one quite like this," Willow admitted, "the name is from Aranoch – a djinn is a spirit, sort of like a, a fairy, or a sprite. Those slanted sails are the kind they use on the merchant ships out of Lut Gholein, but the hull I don't know. Back in Kurast they use twin hulls, but I've only ever seen them on small boats, like the launch, never one this big."

"My father designed it," said Solaris from behind them. "Sorry," he added sheepishly, seeing them both jump slightly.

"Your father?" Tara asked politely, as Amalee got up and joined them on their way back to the rear of the deck, where the cabins were.

"Meshif," Solaris said, "a great man. He runs the docks in Lut Gholein for Lord Jerhyn now, but back in his younger days he was a great sailor and boat builder. He built this boat for me, for my coming-of- age."

In front of the boat's small cabins a table had been set up, surrounded by chairs, all with slightly splayed legs that kept then steady as the deck swayed slightly. One man was already seated, pouring wine, while a younger man, barely out of his teens, was unwrapping preserved food and setting it out.

"My night-crew," Solaris said, "Taryn, master of the watch, and Vatif, his deck-hand – his first year before the mast, and a fine crewman he's becoming." Both paused, Taryn getting to his feet, and introduced themselves, extended names and all.

"Sit, sit," Meshif said, "we usually dine on deck, it's too cramped inside, and the weather's good for it. Eh Taryn?"

"Good for today and tomorrow," Taryn said, in a thickly-accented voice, "but the day after, big storm."

"Well, none of our concern, we'll be safe in dock by then. Taryn is never wrong about the weather, you know," he added to Willow and Tara, "why, one time – you remember, last time we sailed up the peninsula? – he looked into a clear sky, not a cloud from horizon to horizon, and told me we had three days before the biggest storm we'd ever seen. And you were right, weren't you?" Taryn shrugged modestly, then looked somewhat bashful as Amalee sat next to him and peered intently at the stylized tattoos on his arm, left showing by his sleeveless tunic.

"What's that one?" she asked, pointing to a circular design.

"Oh? Ah, well…" he said, "this here is the name of a ship, see? That's the writing we use back home in Aranoch, though not usually in a circle like that. It says 'Dragonfly', she was a very famous ship…"

"Just don't show her the one on your shoulder," Solaris murmured good-naturedly, "she's not old enough to hear that story. Ah, here we go," he said, as Vatif set a platter down in the center of the table and took a seat himself.

"Is Refash joining us?" Willow asked. Amalee was absorbed in Taryn's story, prompting him for details now and then.

"He's on helm watch," Solaris said, "the Djinn's a fine boat, but she doesn't steer herself. He'll join us once these two finish up and go on duty."

"You keep sailing at night?" Tara asked. "I thought you'd drop anchor, or something?"

"No need on the Kingsway," Solaris said, tucking into a sandwich, "you've never seen the river at night? Well, it's quite a marvel, you can look forward to it."

"I've been meaning to ask, if I may," Tara said, "your name, Solaris…you're not Amazon, but that's an Amazon name…?"

"It is an Amazon name," Solaris agreed, "but no, I'm not Amazon. Born and raised in Lut Gholein. But named for an Amazon. You see," he settled back in his seat, pausing occasionally to take a bite of dinner, "twenty years ago, when I was just an uncomfortable passenger in my mother's womb – don't look so surprised, I don't look that much older, do I?"

"It's the beard," Willow offered.

"Ah yes," Solaris smiled, "I think if I shaved, none of these Westmarch captains would take me seriously, they'd say 'go fetch your master, cabin-boy,' as if I haven't been on the water for more years than I've been on land! Hah!" he laughed jovially. "Anyway, what was I saying? Oh yes, the time of shadows, what they call the Reckoning nowadays. A great evil lay over the land and the seas, and there was not a captain in Lut Gholein who would risk the crossing of the Twin Seas to Kurast. They say unnatural creatures, huge beasts of the deep, had risen up and were swallowing whole ships in one gulp!" He became more animated, noticing that Amalee was listening in as well.

"A shadow lay over Lut Gholein," he went on, "the work of a foul creature that dwelled out in the desert. Many brave men of the city guard ventured out, but none returned, and even the city itself became dangerous, with evil stalking beneath the ground, in the old sewer tunnels, and venturing out at night. They say even the day became as night, with the sun shrouded in blackness. But," he held up a hand, smiling at Amalee, who was on the edge of her seat, "when all seemed lost, there came a band of warriors from the west, a master of strange magics, a tall Amazon warrior, and a quiet young woman from Kurast. They had fought great battles together back in the west, and were following the trail of evil, undoing the work of the dark creatures as they went.

"When they discovered the terrible plight out city was in, they ventured into the desert, and for days nothing was heard of them. But then, when all had given up hope, the sun returned, and the day after the city had finally seen sunlight again, they returned from the desert, and sought passage across the Twin Seas, where they believed the evil they followed had fled. Well, there were few ships in dock, and few captains brave enough to try their luck on those seas, but my father went to them and said to them, 'you have saved all our lives, so my ship is yours.' And on board they went, the mage keeping to his cabin alone, and the Amazon with the Kurasti woman, tending to wounds she had taken during the battles they had fought in the desert, nursing her back to health. My father did not pry into their affairs, you understand – they said a great demon had been defeated, and he left it at that, and prayed for the woman's health.

"Now, it seemed the voyage was going well, but in the center of the Twin Seas, they say the sea bed is split by a great trench, so deep that the bottom reaches through the world and into darkness that has never seen light. Perhaps it is so, for as my father's ship crossed the middle of the sea, a huge creature rose up, a giant beast the size of a ship itself, with a dozen tentacles, each as thick as a great tree. My father's crew had never seen such a beast – the bolts of their crossbows bounced off its hide, and when they turned the deck ballista on it, and buried a steel bolt five feet long in its belly, it seemed only to make it angrier. The man came on deck from his cabin and began to weave some arcane magic, but before he could complete his spell he was hit by the beast's waving tentacle, and knocked out against the mast – it was a mercy he was not sent overboard, for the ship was being tossed around as if by the mother of all storms! Then…" he paused, and looked at Amalee. "Do you know what happened next?"

"The Amazon fought the sea monster?" she guessed.

"She did," Solaris said, "my father saw with his own eyes the Amazon fire her bow at the sea, and freeze it solid for a hundred yards in every direction! And the monster thrashed around and smashed at the ice, trying to get free, but every time it broke through it set free a huge mass of ice, which swirled in the water and crashed into it. Only ahead of my father's ship was the water still warm, and so they escaped, as the great beast was crushed by its own struggles." He sat back in his seat again and grinned at Amalee, who was quite satisfied with the monster's grisly end.

"So, the Amazon woman saved my father's life, and the life of his crew, and never asked for anything in return. He took her and her companions to the Kurast docks, where they said their farewells to him, but he remembered the Amazon woman's heroism, the fearlessness with which she faced that titan from the deep, and so he named me after her. Her name was-"

"Solari?" guessed Tara.

"You know her?" Solaris asked wide-eyed.

"She would have been twenty-four, twenty-five?" Tara asked. "Blonde hair, brown eyes, carried a bow with blue steel tips?"

"Exactly how my father described her to me," the captain nodded.

"She was my weapons instructor," Tara said, "she taught me archery and spear-work, and how to wield Amazon magic."

"Ah," Solaris nodded, "then, it's no surprise you came through unscathed from your encounters with the creatures inland, eh? You have heard this story of the sea beast?"

"No," Tara said, "no, she used to tell us – her trainees – stories now and then, but usually not about herself."

"Of course," Solaris said, "such is often the way. The brave have their fill of adventure, and then leave the telling of their tales to others – so it's no surprise you two tell of your journey across the highlands as if it were nothing, eh? But I think we may hear that story nonetheless, from one who is eager to tell it?" He grinned at Amalee, who was bouncing in her seat with good-natured impatience.

She described, at great length, their journey from the ruins of her village to the river, talking animatedly as dusk became evening, and Vatif lit a handful of oil lamps fixed to the deck railings for light. Tara shared glances with Willow now and then, feeling herself blush as Amalee described her calling on the lightning in terms that made her seem to be some mythic demi-goddess, and she found herself smiling at Willow's matching blush as her fight with the goat-lord was recounted in heroic detail. The girl's vocabulary and grasp of story-telling was impressive to say the least, and Tara noticed that, though she invariably cast her two protectors in the most noble, heroic light, she was faithful to the events she had witnessed, and never truly exaggerated their feats, or omitted their worries and hesitations along the way.

"You know, she would make quite a bard," Willow murmured softly, after Amalee had finished holding the attention of the three sailors, and dinner had drawn to a close.

"She would," Tara agreed, "she had my attention, and I already knew what happened. How does a girl from a rural village learn to tell stories like that?"

"She's smart, that's for sure," Willow said, "I noticed phrases here and there, and ways she constructed the scenes, that sounded like the mythology she probably heard in church lessons. I guess she used the same techniques, and adapted them to the story she was telling, but to do it that well, pretty much by instinct…whatever she eventually decides to do with herself, the future looks bright."

"You're proud of her," Tara observed, leaning up against a rail.

"Yeah," Willow agreed.

"I am too. It's funny, isn't it? We've known her for, what, two days, and we're carrying on like proud parents…" She and Willow shared a smile, then Willow turned around and leaned back against Tara, covering Tara's hands with her own as they went around her waist.

"The future looks bright," Willow said again.

"Ladies," Solaris called, "if you'd like to come up to the helm for a moment, I think you'll want to see this. Yes, you too," he added to Amalee, who had begun to open her mouth to ask. The three of them followed Solaris and Taryn across to the far side of the cabins, up a ladder onto the small deck on top of them, where Refash stood at the wheel, surrounded by a set of instruments, each fixed in a wooden pedestal in the deck.

"There," Solaris said, gesturing out ahead of them, "the Kingsway river in all her glory!"

Willow, Tara and Amalee looked, and were duly impressed. As far as they could see – two or three miles, to the next bend in the river – the water was alive with starlight, reflected brighter than the night sky itself. It was as if some god had laid out a glittering trail of diamonds for them to follow.

"It's beautiful," Willow whispered, unconsciously catching Tara's hand and holding it.

"Ten years ago, they invented this in Duncraig," Solaris said, "the alchemists brew up a potion that reflects the lights of the night sky, the stars and the moon, so brightly they say you cannot look upon the mixture in its pure form. They put it into the river, so on a clear night like this, with a good helmsman, you can navigate as surely as if the sun was shining. And we have good helmsmen, of course – Refash knows this river as well as he knows his own ancestry, and Taryn-" he turned to Taryn, who had taken the wheel from Refash, "when you were a mere boy, you were a deckhand on the first boat to sail this river guided by starlight, weren't you?" He turned back to the river ahead, and put both hands on the forward rail.

"It is a sight, is it not?" he said, with more than a little awe in his voice. "Aye…some apprentice in a workshop awakes one day with an idea, goes to his chemicals and powders, and then this…such a thing of beauty. And the world is changed – in good weather, a fast ship can reach Duncraig in three days from Kingsport, traveling day and night. We're not *that* fast, but under this clear sky, I promise you ladies, when you wake tomorrow it will be to see the city growing near."

"So soon?" Willow asked.

"No doubt," Solaris said earnestly, "by midday tomorrow you will be enjoying lunch in the gardens of the Duncraig markets, and I- hah, I'll probably be haggling with some wizened old goods trader who wants to charge me five crowns a barrel for dragon oil! They have many miracles in Duncraig, and believe me, their businessmen are surely one of them. Are we close enough…yes, there!" He pointed to the horizon, just to the right of the glittering river, where the night sky was lit with a faint, warm glow. "You see it?"

"What is it?" Tara asked. "Torches?"

"A beacon?" Willow suggested.

"That," Solaris said proudly, "is Duncraig itself! Even in the dead of night the lights shine, and the city is alive with people. It'll be light by the time we reach the city proper, but to approach it at night…a man could believe he was sailing towards the towers of heaven. The spires reach high, glittering with lamps and torchlight, and always there are bursts of light from the wizards' quarter, from their experiments I'm told."

"Flare light," Willow said, "burning off excess magic…always?"

"I have seen it," Solaris said, "ten minutes do not go by but there is a silent jet of light rising from the roofs of the mages' workshops and studies, reds and greens and blues, like majestic fireworks. They have metal rods, you see, fixed in place, to guide the power into the sky…well, you would know of this better than I, of course."

"I've seen that kind of thing," Willow nodded, "but to be flaring that much…gods, they must be busy. How many mages are there in the city, do you know?"

"Many," Solaris said, "how many I do not know, but they are always around, in their robes, buying strange things for their work. I get good prices for bringing in preserved powders and plants, when we come back from Kurast, or out to the western coast. Many mages, but then again, in that city, there are a great many people of every kind. Ever since I was a boy, there has been talk of Duncraig, and how the wealth of the world is flowing there. Many people make the long journey to get their share of the prosperity – from all over Westmarch, Khanduras, Aranoch, Kehjistan, Entsteig, and a few from even further, from countries that most here have never heard the names of." He shook his head in wonder, then stretched and yawned.

"Well, if you'll forgive me ladies," he said, "it's time I turned in. If you need anything during the night Taryn will be here, and Vatif will be around and about. Don't trouble yourselves if you feel us stop for a moment during the night, if she's on schedule the Lioness is somewhere up ahead, coming downriver, and we'll pause to exchange news. The captain is an old friend of mine." He yawned again. "Oh, excuse me…this is what I get for waking early for morning watch. Well…goodnight ladies."

"I'm not really sleepy," Amalee protested later, when Willow and Tara were laying out the blankets for the night's rest. "I practically slept all day."

"I know sweetie," Tara said, "but we could all use a proper rest, without waking up all the time. And besides, you want to be wide awake for the city tomorrow?"

"I do," Willow said emphatically, "I had no idea there were so many mages there, I'd thought- I mean, trade and commerce okay, and of course the place is growing like you wouldn't believe, but the way Solaris described it, it sounds like it's the western capital of the magical world. Sort of like Kurast without the tropical heat," she mused to herself, "I could actually get to like that, I never really liked the heat that much, and mosquitoes, ick…" she yawned.

"Are you looking forward to it too?" Amalee asked Tara.

"Oh yes," Tara said, "I'll be able to see my friends from the caravan again – at least, we should do," she added, her face darkening with a tiny amount of worry, quickly dispelled by Willow's comforting smile.

"And I'll get to meet the Duke," Tara went on, "and see the palace."

"Wow, you know the Duke?" Amalee asked.

"Well, no," Tara admitted, "but that's what I'm doing on this journey, meeting all the rulers on behalf of the Amazons."

"Bedtime, honey," Willow reminded Amalee gently, patting the blankets she had laid out for her.

"Okay," she said, with only a small sigh. All three of them sat down on the blankets, Willow and Tara busying themselves with removing boots and unstrapping their around in preparation for bed. Amalee paused, and looked at them for a moment.

"What's up sweetie?" Tara asked, noticing a moist gleam in the little girl's eyes. Without warning she flung herself at Willow and Tara, hugging both of them fiercely.

"I'm so glad you found me," she whispered hoarsely, "I'm going to miss you two when we get to the city."

"It's okay honey," Willow soothed her, stroking her hair, "we'll visit you all the time, won't we?"

"Of course," Tara confirmed, "after all, you'll be our best friend in the whole city, you'll see plenty of us."

"Promise?"

"Promise," Tara smiled. Amalee loosened her hold, and Willow coaxed her into the blankets, while Tara finished taking off her armor, again donning her borrowed shift to sleep in.

"Sleep well, honey," Willow whispered to Amalee, "sweet dreams." She watched over her for a moment, patting the back of her hand, until the girl's breathing became the slow rhythm of sleep. With a last smile she turned back to Tara, who was kneeling close to her, smiling seductively.

"Oh, well," Willow whispered, "I know what I'll be dreaming of."

"Dream all you like," Tara murmured, so close her breath warmed Willow's cheek, "tomorrow night, I'll make sure you get everything you've dreamed of."

"Everything?" Willow asked, sliding her arms around Tara's waist, pulling up the bottom of the shift to press her hands against her skin.

"Well, not the dancing fish, or whatever you come up with this time," Tara grinned, "but all the good bits…all night." She nipped playfully at Willow's ear, then helped her out of her armor and on with her shift, her hands straying over Willow's sides and thighs until at last they were covered.

"Goodnight, my sweet Willow," Tara whispered.

"Goodnight my love," Willow replied. She turned and began to lie down next to Amalee, hesitating half-way and turning back towards Tara.

"You two can cuddle if you want," Amalee said.

"Thank you honey," Willow laughed, sitting back up and hugging Tara tightly. As she lay down again, Tara went with her, adopting her customary position, curled up against Willow's back, as Willow gently lay a hand on Amalee's arm.

"G'night," the girl said sleepily.

"Goodnight honey," Willow replied.

"Goodnight," Tara added, "sweet dreams…both of you."

It was mid-morning by the time the Djinn, her sails lowered to slow her to a cautious crawl, came slipping through the crowded river Kingsway towards the Duncraig docklands. Willow and Tara had been woken by Amalee, shared a breakfast with the crew, and now stood on the helm deck with Solaris. Even early in the morning both banks had been covered with houses and workshops, with piers jutting out into the river, and small pontoon docks gently shifting in their moorings. Amalee had been overcome with excitement, pointing and describing in detail each new sight, as Willow and Tara gathered up their few possessions in preparation to disembark. Now, with everything accounted for, Solaris had invited them up to the helm, which offered the best view, and even Amalee stood silently, watching the heart of the city grow closer. Willow and Tara leaned on the forward rail side by side, taking in the awesome sight without comment.

Ever since they had passed, on their port side, the lower tributary of the river Marien, flowing in from the west to join the Kingsway, the shore had been completely covered with stone moorings and wooden jetties, its original contours lost behind the squared-off edges of the docks. Tara spotted and pointed out an entrance to a small lake, man-made by the look of it, just beyond the mouth of the tributary. Beyond its reinforced entrance half a dozen great merchantman freight ships were moored at huge stone quays, with cargo moving on and off over dozens of massive gangplanks for each vessel, every platform wide enough to drive a wagon over with room to spare. The port was surrounded with warehouses, their massive doors open, revealing their vast interiors stacked with crates and barrels. Above a tapering counter-weighted crane swung steadily around, moving out over one of the ships with a wide cargo pallet suspended beneath it.

Further on the riverbanks were crowded with ships and boats, freighters on the west bank at docks and piers, smaller passenger ferries and launches tied to jetties on the east bank. Everywhere people were bustling about, pushing carts full of wares, shouting instructions to one another, getting into arguments, haggling over prices. The sound of a thousand voices carried over the creaking of the vessels' hulls, like a giant bee hive buzzing to itself, full of careful motion that seemed random and chaotic to the outside eye.

It was around then that Amalee tugged on Willow's skirt, and drew her and Tara's attention to the view ahead. The river, which had seemed crowded since they had woken, was positively jammed with boats, all carefully maneuvering around each other, sails flapping in the breeze, oars thrashing at the water, paddle- wheels churning the river white in their wake. Up ahead, where the Marien's main flow joined the Kingsway, it seemed impossible that any boat could get through, yet the Djinn kept up its steady approach, with Solaris looking unconcerned.

"Flags up," he called down to the main deck, where Refash was waiting for instructions. He hauled on a pulley, and three colored flags slid up the main mast, the top one blue with a white star in its center, then red with two white stripes, then yellow with a black circle. Willow glanced around at the other vessels nearby, noting similar arrangements of flags on their masts, and then her attention was drawn to a thin tower rising up from the point of land between the two rivers, behind which was the heart of the largest city in the western world.

"Look at that," she murmured to Tara, peering at the distant tower. It rose high into the air, far above the buildings around it, competing even with the huge stone towers of the city beyond, and its top was very peculiar. Instead of a roof it had a massive wooden framework, within which were a dozen or so panels painted black and white, which seemed to flicker oddly, as if they were moving. Beneath this was a gantry supporting some kind of mechanism, and a suspicion formed in Willow's mind as she watched the tower and its changing patterns, and glanced back at Solaris, who was staring at it through a telescope.

"It's signaling the ships," Tara said, surprised.

"Heh," Willow laughed, "I was just thinking that…that's right, isn't it?" she asked Solaris.

"It is," he said, "that's the Regulator. Five years it's been there, ever since the river started getting too crowded to make your own way through. Now either a captain has to know how to 'talk' to the tower, or else take on a pilot lower down to guide him in to his dock. And the prices those pilots charge," he laughed to himself, "well, I made sure I learned for myself!"

"We use something similar at home," Tara said idly, "lanterns with covers, at night-time. They flip the cover on and off, and send signals to anyone who can see the light appear and disappear. But that's just for convenience, nothing like this…there are people up there, working it? Guiding the ships?"

"On the platform, yes," Solaris said, "a team of men operating the outbound signals, a second team marking the position of every hull on the river, and a third team operating another set of signals, facing down towards the shipping office. That's in a building down below, that piece of land – there's a little stream just behind it, between it and the city – it controls the whole river, as far as the eye can see. And their eyes see very far, they make good lenses here."

"So," Willow thought out loud, "the observers watch where the boats are, and they signal the office on the ground, and they signal back to the tower, and the tower signals the boats?"

"That's it," Solaris nodded, "in simple terms. I've never seen inside the office myself, but I have a friend who works there. In this business, it's good to have many friends!" he chuckled. "She tells me they have a great map of the river, and little wooden models of boats they move around. There are people whose job it is only to listen for reports of certain boats, and move their models, and people who read the signals from the tower, and people who write down every instruction that passes in and out of the office, and the River Masters who decide which boat goes where and how fast. I saw once a big machine in Lut Gholein, wooden wheels and gears all moving at once, and it is like that, my friend says. A huge machine that controls the whole river."

"Do they ever make mistakes?" Tara asked. "Read a signal wrongly, or anything like that?"

"There was a time," Solaris said, still looking through the telescope, "six months after the tower began to work, when it gave orders that were wrong. I do not know why, perhaps someone said the wrong ship's name, or misheard what someone else said. A merchantman – this was before the merchantman dock was built, you saw that earlier, to port – hit a sloop, but both were moving slowly, thank god, and no-one was hurt. They say the shipping office hired more people, and now there is a second team who compare the position of boats on the river to the positions of the models on the map. Or something like that, I do not know exactly how they work. But there have been no more accidents. Ah, there we go." He put away the telescope and called down to Refash: "A touch more sail!" He turned back to Willow and Tara, absently toying with the helm wheel.

"We have a docking permit," he explained, "our route to follow to our mooring. Not long now!" Amalee worked her way in between Willow and Tara, taking a hand from each of them and peering over the rail.

"Looking forward to it?" Willow asked.

"Yup," the girl replied quickly. "When we get there, you'll stay, won't you? For lunch at least? I'm sure uncle won't mind."

"Thank you sweetie," Tara smiled, "if it's okay with him, then yes, we'll stay for lunch. And don't forget we'll keep visiting you. You won't miss us."

"Yes I will," Amalee said, "but it's okay." She flashed both of them a smile. "I won't forget either of you. That's like having you with me."

"Oh, come here," Willow said, bending down to pick up Amalee and sit her up on the rail, keeping one arm securely around her. "We won't forget you either," she said softly, hugging the girl. Tara put an arm around her shoulders, and the three of them turned their attention to the passing riverbank.

The Regulator tower passed by to starboard, and beneath it a large, low building three storeys high, with the walls of its uppermost level composed entirely of panes of glass, shining in the sunlight. Peering at it, Willow could just make out people inside, walking from place to place busily, pausing now and then to look out. On the roof a smaller version of the tower's signaling system flickered away, aimed up at the Regulator's gantry. The signals, she realized on seeing them closer, were boards of wood, one side painted black and the other white, flipping over in their mountings as the pattern changed.

"We're on the Marien now," Solaris commented, as the boat moved beyond the tower's point of land. The southern bank was composed entirely of docks, all clad in hard-wearing stone with moss growing at the waterline. The Djinn took its place in a queue of boats making their stately way up the river, their speed steady even as vessels moved off towards their moorings or swung out to pass through the traffic. Little rowboats and single-sailed launched darted everywhere, edging between the hulls of the larger vessels like dogs scampering across a busy roadway, dodging the wheels of the carts.

On the shore the business of loading and unloading boats was carried out to the accompaniment of shouting from captains calling down to their crews, warehouse-owners on the piers yelling instructions to their laborers, people calling for room to move as huge crates swung around on ropes and pulleys, and the cries of vendors of all manner of wares working their way through the crowds. At one dock a wide-bellied freight ship unloaded its cargo with a pair of cranes built into its deck, the massive pallets of cargo steadily turning through the air and setting down on wheeled platforms on the dock. Beneath it a tiny launch piled high with bags of grain was being unloaded by hand, with porters scurrying back and forth in the shadow of the freighter.

Willow looked north to the other bank, where the land opened up into a huge stone dock, mostly unused for cargo, though there were a few smaller vessels nudged up against the stone walkways, jockeying for position and room to move their cargo. A long, graceful passenger barque rode at anchor inside the docking booms, securely fastened by a dozen thick ropes. People dressed in expensive clothes, finely-colored coats and traveling robes, were milling about on the shore, a handful slowly boarding the ship over a thin gangplank, while suitcases and luggage crates were taken aboard over another walkway further aft. Willow pointed out to Tara the flag flying from the ship's main mast, a lion rearing up on its hind legs, holding a sword and shield as if it were a knight, all on a rich scarlet field.

"That's the Duke's flag," she explained, "that must be his personal ship."

"The Lion Star," Solaris added, "she carries the Duke and his family when they travel. Though these days the Duke stays close to home for the most part, so the ship is used to ferry the very rich back and forth along the river. They say she is a palace afloat, but I doubt I will ever find out how true that is."

"Expensive?" Tara asked.

"Hah! This voyage, we came all the way from the peninsula, seven weeks there and back, with a full hold of quality goods, and perhaps – if I am lucky – our profit would buy a single night on the Lion Star. In a small cabin, you understand. To berth in the rooms that the Duke uses…not in a year would a trader like me make such a fortune." He shook his head and chuckled to himself ruefully. "Run a fast ship and a good crew, and you can make a decent living, but own half a street full of warehouses and never stray beyond your own front door, and you can make a fortune."

A moment later Solaris spun the wheel around, and the Djinn came around, slowing as Refash dropped the sails. They slipped between the shore and a wooden pontoon, and even as they slowed to a halt men were scurrying about on either side, catching the ropes that Refash and Solari tossed down to them and securing the boat to its moorings. Willow glanced back to see the gap they had left in the river traffic quickly filled by a departing barge, and marveled that they had just come across half the width of a busy river in a single maneuver, and every other boat had been in exactly the right place to leave their path free. Her respect for the shipping office and its Regulator increased as she watched the boats go by, efficiently coming and going but never getting in each other's way.

"Well, here I must bid you good day," Solaris said, clapping his hands and kicking the helm wheel's lock into place. "My shoremaster, down there, will be taking my letters in a few moments, if you wish to have your arrival known, he will see your letters delivered quickly. I hate to hurry you, but I have many people to meet."

"That's quite alright," Willow said, "we should be getting on our way, it's a big city. Got to go find your uncle, eh?" she added to Amalee. "Um…you wouldn't know how we might go about looking, would you?"

"At a guess," he said, "a little way west of here is the Centenary Bridge. Cross that, follow its road a little way and you will find the great Parliament house – you will know it when you see it. On the far side is the old hall, that was the town hall in the old days decades ago, and now they use it for the hall of records. If you know the name, they will tell you the place, I am sure."

"My uncle's name is Brydan," Amalee piped up.

"Then, good fortune to you, and may he look after you well," Solaris said, squatting down to look straight at her. "I am glad to have carried you on my vessel. Think well of the Djinn, and you will always have a friend on these waters." He gave her a wink, then straightened up.

"That goes for you too," he said to Willow and Tara, "in the old country, I would say my house is your house. Well, this boat is my house, so you may consider it yours if ever I should be in port when you need passage, to Kingsport or anywhere beyond that I might sail."

"Thank you," Tara said warmly, "you've been very kind."

"Thanks," Willow echoed.

"Oh, and when you see your instructor," Solaris grinned to Tara, "tell her my father, Meshif, remembers her deeds often in Lut Gholein, whenever people gather to tell stories of heroes."

"I will," Tara smiled.

"Then god bless you," Solaris said, descending the ladder to the main deck, "and may he offer you good fortune." With a wave he was gone, lost amid the crates and barrels strewn about the deck, and the dozen or so strong men who had come on board to unload them. Tara helped Amalee down the ladder, and then extended a hand up to Willow.

"My lady?" she said with a grin.

"Oh, thank you," Willow replied, with aristocratic courtesy and not a little amusement, "how kind." She took Tara's hand and daintily stepped down to the deck, keeping their hands joined afterwards. Amalee took her other hand and together, with their bags and belongings, the three of them descended the gangplank down to the pontoon, and from there around the front of the Djinn to the dock itself.

"Well," Tara said with a relieved sigh as they finally felt solid ground underfoot, "we made it."

"We did," Willow smiled. "Quite the adventure, eh honey?"

"Yup," Amalee nodded.

"There's the shoremaster," Tara pointed, "should we send a note to the palace? I'd like them to know we're safe, if we're going to find this Brydan before we go there."

"Right," Willow agreed. She found a spare piece of paper in her belt and spent a moment writing out a quick note, giving the basics of their separation from the caravan and subsequent passage to the city. Tara added her signature to it, and the shoremaster agreed that it would go with Solaris's letters in a few minutes' time, and said his messenger would deliver it to the palace within half an hour.

"Wow," Amalee breathed, as they stepped out of the shadow of the dock's warehouses and offices and into the wide street running behind them.

"I second that 'wow'," Willow said, her eyes wide.

"I third it," Tara agreed. The road was full of traffic, from pedestrians to men on horseback, two- wheeled carts and gigs speeding along, heavy wagons stacked high with cargo and pulled by teams of oxen, even grand-looking carriages, their doors set with gold-painted heraldry, and aristocratic faces peering out of their windows from behind curtains. Laborers were talking and arguing as they went, pushing trolleys or carrying crates or timber between them, street vendors were announcing their wares at the tops of their voices, with trays of produce hanging from cords looped around their necks, or pulling small carts along with them. Willow stood back as a pair of red-coated lancers went by, their points held high and their horses' hooves clattering on the cobblestones.

"I've never seen anything like this," Tara said, staring around as they slowly made their way north towards the bridge.

"I suppose Kurast must be the same size," Willow mused, "but it's all temples and halls, miles of roads and causeways, it's been there for hundreds of years…even Gotunberg wasn't this busy…this place is something else. Oh wow, look at that!" She pointed along the road, where far away a tower rose up over the city, hazy in the distance. For a few seconds a curling, twisting jet of emerald light reached into the sky from its tip, then the spectacle was gone. No-one else seemed to pay it any attention at all.

"Magic flare," Willow said, "that must have been what we were seeing last night…and others like it. Gods, how tall is that tower?"

"It's like one of the great oaks at home," Tara said, "they're thousands of years old…huge old things."

"That must be the court mage's tower, in the Palace," Willow guessed.

"That's where you're going to study?" Tara asked.

"Partly…there's a college around here somewhere too, I've got letters from the Order to study with several of the mages who teach there. At least, they were in the wagon…gods, I'd almost forgotten the caravan," she said, turning to Tara. "Do you think they're okay? I mean, they made it, right, they must have?"

"I'm sure they did," Tara said, "we'll see soon, when we get there. They'll get our letter, and a couple of hours won't make any difference while we find Brydan and make sure Amalee's safe and sound."

"Right," Willow nodded, "you're right…heh, I'm trying to think of everything at once suddenly. This place is infectious, I feel like I should be busy just from being here."

"Sure, because normally your mind is so lazy," Tara smirked. Willow laughed to herself.

"I do remember," she murmured quietly in Tara's ear, so Amalee wouldn't overhear, "several notable occasions when I've been rendered incapable of any thought more complicated than 'yum'."

"That wasn't because of laziness, though," Tara whispered back, "was it?"

"No," Willow agreed, "it was because of you, luscious." Tara shot her a sexy grin as they walked on, keeping to the side of the road, away from the carts and horses moving back and forth along the center.

The bridge was a huge construction, spanning the river in a single arc from side to side, with stone- railed walkways on either side for people on foot, while faster traffic kept to the road in the middle, clattering over the wooden slats without slowing. Amalee kept stealing glances over the side of the bridge at the crowded river below, but she didn't slow her pace. Willow wondered whether she was anxious to get to her uncle's house, or just hungry. 'Well, she's going to live here,' she thought to herself, 'I guess she'll be able to see the river whenever she wants.' She peeked sideways herself, fascinated at the complex motions of the dozens of vessels, all carefully choreographed by the distant, silent tower. 'Lucky girl,' she grinned.

On the far side of the river they followed the road, which broadened into a tree-lined avenue, until it reached a busy junction. Carts, coaches and riders were going in all directions, and it took a moment to find a safe place to cross – a crossing marked by upright white stones on either side of the road, where the traffic paused to let pedestrians by. On the far side was a narrow strip of greenery, lovingly cared for and sculpted into an impressive garden, with trees of all kinds offering shade to a dazzling array of flowers arranged according to their color into a soft rainbow blanket. People were dotted here and there, having an early lunch, reading or chatting with each other, seated on the grass or on wrought-iron benches spaced through the garden.

On the other side of the garden, beyond a quieter road, was a great marble-clad building that could only be the Parliament house Solaris had mentioned. Willow and Tara stared at it, as dumbstruck as Amalee, their eyes traveling over the towering columns, the carved friezes of scenes of battle and triumph, and the statues standing at regular intervals between the tall flights of steps leading from the pavement up into the building.

"Tal Rasha," Willow pointed out, gesturing to a grizzled marble figure, depicted in torn robes and battle-scarred armor, "the greatest Horadrim mage ever…that must be Wilfur the Great," a giant, bearded warrior with his hands resting proudly over the hilt of a massive double-headed axe, "he was from the northlands, he was made a general here about two hundred years ago, he was never defeated…Tirion," a man in ornate armor, carrying a mace and shield, "he was a paladin, they called him the Chosen of Akarat… he was born in Kurast four, five hundred years ago, and came out here to try to cleanse the western kingdoms of demons. Oh, look honey," she said to Amalee, "there's Esara! You remember?"

"That's her?" Amalee asked, staring wide-eyed at a statue of a serious-looking woman in her thirties, clothed in flowing robes. In each hand she held a short staff, little more than the length of a club, and both were tipped with claw-shaped pieces holding spheres.

"That's her," Willow confirmed, "when she grew up she became a great sorceress, one of the best."

"Are there more stories about her?"

"There are a few," Willow said, "I don't know all of them – I was always more into theory than history," she added to Tara, by way of explanation, before turning her attention back to Amalee, "but maybe I'll look them up in the library, and when we visit you can hear them?"

"Quite a woman," Tara commented. The sculptor, whether accurately or by way or artistic license, had given the sorceress a commanding presence. Even in lifeless marble she was an impressive sight, with a stern, unforgiving gaze tempered by a face that seemed full of feeling.

"Some of the stories," Willow said, as Amalee devoted her attention to more of the heroic statues, "probably more fairy tale than fact…it's been a long time since she was around, and you know what they