There’s a glimmer of morning just over the treeline
A sky full of starlings, scatter of rain sound
Don’t know what the day will bring, assuming it does come;
Just know that I need you, forever and then some

I was living in a world where people pawn their souls
For the smallest change; so it’s by heart I know
A little hope is a precious thing
	--- “The Rest (Will Take Care of Itself)”, Webb Wilder, Doo Dad

It was near dawn when Patricia awoke. She turned her head in search of the Watcher, and saw him stretched out across the adjoining pew. Good; she was relieved that he had not spent all night awake. She slipped out of her makeshift bed, automatically folding the blanket and placing the pillow on top. She saw one of Vottnar’s sons enter the sanctuary, making the last check of the vigil lights; the candles would be extinguished once the first rays of the dawn had shone full upon the altar. The monk put a finger to her lips, gesturing towards Anomen’s sleeping form. The boy nodded in understanding, and approached the altar in silence.

Patricia picked up her small bundle of bedding and strode towards the narthex. After the night’s terrors, she was immensely grateful just to be alive, and she wanted to see what promise the coming day held. A stray thought wondered how Keldorn and Maria had passed their night; she certainly hoped it had been in more comfort than her own. She’d need to do some stretching exercises to work out the stiffness from sleeping on the hard wood. There were two windows set in the walls of the short ends of the rectangular narthex, and she approached the one on the north side. A bench had been placed beneath it, and she knelt on that as she examined the sky outside through the glass panes.

A flock of some sort of birds--- starlings or pigeons--- rose circling and calling from several roofs across the way, individual forms dim and only recognizable en masse. The sky looked threatening; rain would probably fall soon. It might be later than she thought, then; such greyness could mask the dawn easily enough. She propped her head in her hands and her elbows on the windowsill as she peered out. Should she be glad or sorry about last night?

On the one hand, she felt that she and Anomen were even now. Each had inadvertently stumbled across the pain and weakness the other wanted most to hide. On the other, she now knew what it was to love, and that itself was a new pain. She acknowledged her bitterness to herself. Mother, why did you wish this for me? You had five years with Papa, and I will likely have a few tendays at most. I am certain now that Anomen feels some tenderness for me, too, but why should I believe it anything more than a sudden infatuation, a spark that will die once he is moved on by his superiors to other tasks? Yet she still felt the cradling of those long, lean fingers cupping her face, the unexpected softness of his short beard as its end brushed her nose, the light pressure of his lips on her forehead as he kissed her.

This is ridiculous. You aren’t sixteen, to let your common sense be overruled by your first kiss. She stopped, startled by her own reflection. Was it really true? She thought back over the years, and realized with a shock that indeed, no one ever had done such a thing to her before. Well, except for Turin, but he’d been eight and she was six, and they and five other kids were playing Sleeping Beauty, so that didn’t count. Later on, he and she had surreptitiously held hands a few times underneath the table at parties, but even that had stopped once he ran off to be a ranger. What had she been… fourteen, maybe fifteen then? If only Immy were here! She knows so much more than I do about love and joy; all I seem to understand is books, food, and sorrow.

She sighed. Anomen was probably as inexperienced as herself, given the Order’s strict code for squires. She supposed that was some comfort, anyway. It’s comforting that neither one of us has a clue about matters of the heart? Look at Keldorn and Maria. He’s a very wise man, yet he almost destroyed his marriage trying to do what he thought was right. Is that kind of strain part and parcel of loving someone in the Order? Could I or Anomen either one survive it? Not to mention the little matter of my own peculiar problems? No, it’s far better if I let him go, if I send him away--- but I can’t. I’m too weak; I can’t bear to hurt him enough to drive him away. She paused as the full implications of her words sank in. Had she in truth found the one who was, in her mother’s words, “the other half of your soul”? And if she had, was she willing to pay the price in suffering that real love always demanded?

She shook her head to clear it. She was still running short on sleep, and this was probably not the best time to be pondering whether it was better to be the owner of a lonely heart, or a broken one. Oh, drat, now that song Daddy used to sing was going to be stuck in her head all day! At least she wasn’t supposed to go and do anything strenuous like save the city today. Her only plans were to take a bath and go pick up her new clothes, maybe squeeze in a few hours for one of the longer meditations.

Patricia heard movement, turned, and saw the acolyte come out of the sanctuary and cross to open the great entry doors. She was surprised to see a group of people push them open as soon as he did so. The woman leading them practically tumbled into the room in her haste, and at once Patricia recognized Nalia’s copper hair. The other woman spotted her simultaneously.

“Patricia! Thank goodness you’re up. You have to come with us right now, or we’re going to be dreadfully late. I don’t know where Anomen is, he wasn’t in his room this morning, and Boo says Keldorn was going home, so we haven’t got time to go to his house---”

The monk cut the younger woman off. “Slow down, Nalia. Where do you want me to go, and why? It’s not even quite dawn yet! Don’t you know better than to be out on the streets at night?” Her voice rose with a faint hint of the panic of the previous night. She carefully modulated her tone and continued, “Where is Beauregard? I see Jan and Minsc, but no one else.”

“He said he had to see an old friend,” Nalia answered impatiently, “and we’re supposed to be meeting Delon in the Promenade as close to dawn as possible, so get your things together. I’ll go without you if I have to!”

Patricia stared at her so-called ward. Well, the worm had certainly turned! What could have happened yesterday to cause this? Jan and Minsc seemed unusually subdued, too, almost cowed. She was given no more time to wonder about her friends’ peculiar behavior, however, because at that moment she heard the slight creaking clank that always heralded Anomen’s approach.

He walked out of the sanctuary yawning, rubbing the sleep from his eyes with one hand while he held his helm tucked under his other arm. The Watcher’s hair was rumpled, sticking straight up like a fan above the back of his head, and his eyes were a bit bloodshot. When he glimpsed the others, he stopped to gawk.

Nalia gave him one very sour look. “So there you are! I might have known you’d turn up in the cuff of Tisha’s trousers. Why’d you have to run off yesterday? I could have used your help with these two.” She jerked her thumb over her shoulder at the gnome and ranger, who stared intently at the floor, their ears flaming red.

Patricia felt her own cheeks burning. Even though she felt that her own conduct last night had been irreproachable, she deplored the insinuation on Anomen’s account. She hoped he wasn’t looking at her. For a moment she debated simply allowing the words to pass over her head, but decided she wasn’t going to let Nalia get away with such accusations. “Nalia, I don’t have time for this. I didn’t want to tell you, but Anomen and I spent much of yesterday trying to help Sir Keldorn resolve a domestic problem. I decline to give you any more details, for you have no need to know them and it is best to let the matter drop, but Sir Keldorn is spending this day with his family. Now who is this Delon?”

She hadn’t dared to look at Anomen, but now his voice chimed in. “And exactly what ails you, Lady Nalia? How have these two gentlemen offended you?”

Nalia flushed, too, and mimicked Tisha. “You don’t need to know the details, milord. As for Delon, I shall let him explain his errand himself. We shall find him at the temple of Ilmater, if we stop gabbing and start walking.”

“Not until I thank Guardian Vottnar,” Patricia said firmly. “After that, I shall be happy to go with you. Wait here.”

Anomen followed her towards the priest’s private quarters. “Milady, you are still in need of rest. Can you not let Nalia take care of this on her own?”

“Anomen, I must go. She is my responsibility, remember? You and she cajoled me into assuming the role back at her keep. Besides, you saw their looks this morning. I don’t know what happened yesterday, but those three could get into trouble at a family picnic. If one of us isn’t on hand to discourage their wilder schemes, we’ll only wind up picking up the pieces, and I for one am not thrilled by the prospect of explaining the resultant mess to Lady Delcia.”

He sighed. “I knew you would say so, my--- milady, but I too have a duty to fulfill. You are the Order’s best hope for solving several thorny problems, if you will recall, and my superiors have made it clear that your well-being is important to them. I wish--- well, no matter; if wishes were horses, beggars would ride, as the adage says.”

Patricia felt as if hot knives had been driven into her body. The embarrassment was exquisitely painful. So, all his solicitude was nothing more than an elaborate attempt to ensure his own success? Anomen, of all people, had been using her, abusing her trust in such a way? How could she have been so mistaken? “Thank you for that show of confidence, Watcher. I shan’t soon forget it. Let me relieve you of your duty at once. I don’t think I ever want to see you again! I trusted you, Anomen, and you have just insulted me so badly that you should be glad I am not ready to demand satisfaction myself! How could you be so selfish, using another’s pain for your own advancement!”

She turned and stamped back down the corridor, all thoughts of polite farewells forgotten in her seething anger. “Come on, Nalia,” she growled as she came back into the narthex. “Lord Delryn won’t be accompanying us today. Let’s get this cross-town trek over with.” They were well down the street when she heard the familiar creak closing on them. Sighing, she turned to face Anomen, then was blindsided by the sheer misery radiating from him, though his face was impassive. Oh, what had she done? And how could she let him know she felt her error, without betraying themselves to the others?

“I am so glad you were able to join us after all, Anomen,” she said quietly. “I think I’ve been a little confused all around this morning. I hope this Delon’s tale is a less complicated knot to unravel than all the other difficulties that have beset us.”

His unhappiness lessened at once, and with a brighter look he said, “Milady, I fear I have only added to the muddle. I unwisely failed to inform you that my own wishes in the matter were precisely aligned with those of my superiors. The Guardian’s order came none too soon.” He hesitated a moment, then added in a low tone that reached her ears alone, “Vottnar specified no definite end to the task he set me, milady. Should… should you find yourself in need again, I beg that you will turn to me. Allow me a chance, only a chance, to redeem myself in your eyes.”

Her heart was pounding so hard that she thought he must be able to hear it. “I will keep it in mind,” she said carefully, aware that Jan, at least, was trying to eavesdrop, “but you need no redemption. It was an error of judgment on my part. Just another in a long list of mistakes I’ve made in my life.”

She could have sworn that for an instant Anomen’s eyes twinkled. They were such a dark blue, the opaque color of the deep seas off the coast of Candlekeep, that to catch a spark from them was like seeing the sun appear after a storm. Oh, what twaddle! Get a grip, girl. A poet you are not!

“Well, milady, I submit to your reckoning, though I would prefer to believe that your original trust in me was no mistake. Still, I would like to know more of this Delon we are to meet.”

“So would I,” she agreed. “Come on, Nalia’s gained almost half a block on us while we’ve been dawdling.”

They stepped up their pace until they closed the gap with the young mage.

“Nalia,” Anomen called, “who is this Delon?”

“A messenger from Imnesvale. Oh, Tisha, we’ve just got to help him!” Nalia said.

“Imnesvale?” Anomen frowned. “That’s a bit far to the northeast. What errand is he on, that you think we can help him?”

“He says that his village is under some strange form of attack,” Nalia replied. “I don’t know any more than that.”

“Yeah,” came the disgruntled voice of Jan. With a start, Patricia realized that the gnome had actually been silent all the way over here to the Promenade. Gracious, what had Nalia done to him? He went on, “Nally didn’t even bother to find out if they were willing to pay us anything for investigating!”

“Jan, they need help!” the other mage admonished.

“Yes, Jan, we must crush the evil! All of the evil!” Minsc chimed in. “Little boys should not fear being turned inside out!”

Patricia and Anomen looked at each other. She shrugged, and he responded in kind. She gave him a wry smile. “I don’t know why we even bothered to ask. The temple isn’t much farther, anyway.”

They arrived at the sanctuary of Ilmater just as the sun’s disk got completely above the horizon. When they entered, Nalia went at once to a tow-headed boy who looked to be about ten. This was the messenger?

Patricia forgot her surprise at Delon’s youth as she listened intently to the boy’s somewhat jumbled explanations of the disappearances. “Is there no evidence of what’s behind all this trouble?” she queried.

Delon shook his head. “Nobody knows, miss. Those that shows up are all twisted and strange... completely mad. Then they die and their bodies disappear. Minister Lloyd can’t figure it out.”

Well, she reflected, madness was certainly something she could understand after recalling her time with Irenicus. The disappearing bodies were also a troubling clue. It certainly had the feel of foul magic, perhaps even the undeath that she now had more reason than ever to fear and hate. Could she face that now? Well, maybe, if she had Keldorn and Anomen by her side, with their powerful defenses against evil. But she had as much as promised Maria that she would not ask for Keldorn’s help in any task but the elimination of the Unseeing Eye, and Anomen’s summons could arrive any day now.

Anomen suddenly asked, “Why does the village elder not ask for the Guard’s assistance? Or failing that, what House places your town under its protection?” A sensible question, and she was glad he’d inquired.

“There isn’t any House in Imnesvale, sir. They say that years ago Umar held the region under her sway, and then they found mithril in the hills, but no one family gained all the lands. When the mines played out, all the rich folks and priests left. Ain’t nothin’ but us villagers left now. And the officer in charge of our region’s Colonel Roenall, sir, and he ain’t ever even been to visit. He don’t like to be bothered with the likes of us, and he hasn’t even sent over any men to take over for the four soldiers we had. They went missin’ weeks ago, right at the start of the troubles. Our ranger’s tryin’, but there’s just one of her.”

Patricia groaned at the mention of Isaea. Nalia was going to insist on traveling to Imnesvale now; there’d be no getting out of it. In fact, she probably knew about his connection to the area already, and that’s why the de’Arnise girl had demanded that they speak to this boy. She’d just have to see if Maria could be prevailed upon tomorrow.

“Very well,” she sighed. “We’ll go to your village and see what we can do to help, Delon.”

The boy wriggled with joy. “You would?! Oh, wonderful! Thank you so much! When you get to Imnesvale, talk to Minister Lloyd! He can tell you everything else! Thank you, miss!”

She held up a hand. “Not so fast, young man. I’m afraid we can’t leave today, and maybe not even tomorrow. Also, I think you should come with us. You’ll be safer. Take me to the priest, and we’ll all have a little talk about it, all right?”

The boy nodded assent. “Okay, miss. If he says it’ll be all right, I’ll come with you. I really miss my mamma.”

The priest greeted them warmly. “Ah, Lady Patricia!” he exclaimed. “I have heard of you from Brother Lasabach. I see that his report was as factual as always. Well, and so you wish to take charge of young Delon here? I see no difficulty in that; I have in fact been somewhat puzzled at how to ensure his safe return to his family. New rings of slavers seem to crop up every day in this city, though I understand that you are all too familiar with the problem.”

“Yes, I have already encountered the phenomenon,” Patricia agreed. “Unfortunately, it may be a matter of a few days before I am free to commence the journey. I would prefer it if Delon were to remain in your care until that time. I will return when we are prepared to go.”

“The Crying One’s doors are open to all such waifs in need. I really must thank you for your generosity, Lady Patricia; there are many poor children in this town who will find school more of a blessing than ever before once it becomes a haven of warmth in winter’s chill.”

She was embarrassed. “I am only sorry that my name was attached to the deed. I asked Brother Lasabach not to speak of it.”

The priest smiled. “Do not worry; it is not general knowledge. We do require that all donors to each temple be identified in the records, however, in case there might ever be any question of peculations. I also happen to function as the diocesan treasurer.”

Patricia nodded. “I see. Well, if there is nothing else, I shall say goodbye for now, Delon. It was a pleasure to meet you, Brother---” she paused.

“Vakinty,” he supplied. “Forgive my omission. Delon and I shall both await your return.”

Patricia informed her friends of the arrangement as she joined them in the temple entrance. “Now will you let me get some breakfast, Nalia?” she asked. “I’m starving, and I expect Anomen is, too.”

“Aye,” all three of the men chorused. “Ol’ Nally wouldn’t even give us time to get a bowl of turnip porridge this morning,” Jan added.

“Okay, okay, Jan,” Nalia said. “You’ve made your point. Just remember who got stuck with the point yesterday!”

Patricia frowned. It must have something to do with the mage’s bad mood, but with Jan and Minsc involved, the comment could mean practically anything. Oh, well. The early morning bustle was near its height now; open-air vendors and shopkeepers were opening carts and doors, sweeping doorsteps, and generally preparing for business; early shoppers were beginning to crowd the terraces of the Promenade.

“How about the Seven Vales?” she suggested. Everyone agreed, and they adjourned for a well-earned morning repast.