Kjan paused to glance sideways at Dante. "Has it ever occured to you," he began conversationally, "that your queries might be not only redundant, but ill-timed and misdirected? I don't know where exactly we'll be going, or at least no more than you do. You were at the same meeting as I, and I've hardly had time to confer with the one who does know, save a brief discussion about what sort of supplies we need for the upcoming journey. And I'm not sure that even he knows for certain where we're - Finally, somewhere that sells pipeweed."

Previous conversation ostensibly forgotten, he promptly steered the other two in the direction of the desired stand and began examining the wares. After several minutes of waiting to be acknowledged and several more of working out a suitable price, Kjan stuffed several pouches of pipeweed into his own sack with an air of satisfaction. Turning around to face Ash and Dante, he did a quick sweep of the surrounding area to determine whether or not the Phantom and Jate happened to be wandering around the market. It didn't take long to spot two figures that stood a foot or two above nearly everyone else. Unfortuantely, however, there were a few hundred dwarven bodies in between them, and none of said bodies seemed inclined to move out of his way in any particular hurry.

"Anyway," he said abruptly as he began weaving his way through the crowd. "What makes you think I would divulge any details right now anyway? This is hardly what I would consider a secure location. If you're so desperate for information, ask the Phantom when we meet back up with him in a less...inconvenient area."

Carelessly, Dante shrugged, though the topic hardly left his mind. Somehow, <i>someday</i> he'd get a straight answer out of one of them. And if Kjan had no intention of ever revealing anything... maybe he could pry a word or two out of Ash. Sometime.

Although, on second though, it was more than likely that Ash was just as clueless as he was, and just followed the wild trail along affably, amiably, and entirely void of information. With a quick sideways glance at Ash's ever-smiling face, Dante assumption confirmed itself. The boy was no more than a pleasant companion, and extra hand in a fight, perhaps. Definitely no walking scribe.

Turning back, he glanced sharply at Kjan. "And what makes you think <i>I'm</i> going to give up so easily? For all I know this trip could be some insane front for your more underground activities. Sure as gods I didn't volunteer of my free will - but I'd like to be 'in' on some of your little ideas at least. Being drug around in oblivion isn't fun at all. You should try it sometime."

His voice lowered slightly as they neared the Phantom, and his face went from the animated expression he'd been using with Kjan and into the customary scowl. The packages wobbled a bit as he peered out from behind them, and he addressed Kjan in the typical dull tone.

"And would you <i>please</i> tell me how we're supposed to carry all this stuff to That Anonymous Place? I suppose it will all fit in your magical pack? Or am I now a packhorse too?"

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"The piano is able to communicate the subtlest universal truths by means of wood, metal and vibrating air."

Jate considered. He didn't really need to know everything, at least not yet. Right now...."At the moment, I'd like to know how you're planning on getting to the Heartshard. You know, the whole 'may or may not be guarded' idea. Plus, what your plan is for none of us to end up dead in case the dwarf is off his rocker." He didn't think that was too much to ask. Besides, the rest of the group was getting closer and, by the look on Dante's face, he wanted answers as well.

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going on a journey through my old claims

"Same way we get anywhere," said the Phantom, as if this were self-evident. He was now carrying a tinderbox, a lantern, several packages of dried meat, and a couple flasks of ale. "Walking. Maybe pick up some horses, if we pass through somewhere that isn't plastered all over with Wanted posters."

He paused, rearranging his collection of items, and cast Jate a sidelong glance. "I'll have you know that my best plans have been products of pure spontaneity, therefore it's somewhat self-defeating to conjure them up now, when we don't know if there even is a guardian or a Heartshard or whether or not the Shard is testy and in the habit of incinerating personages it doesn't take a liking to. When those variables are no longer variables...I shall have a plan."

Discussion ended - especially as it seemed prudent to rendezvous with the other half of the party - he edged round a collection of dwarves and motioned for the other three to step out of the main flow of traffic. "Right," he announced. "I've got a map of the city, four - no, five - packages of dried meat, tinderbox, lantern, ale. I sincerely hope you found the pipeweed."

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Kjan nodded absently. "I did," he confirmed. "However, seeing as I had to purchase it with my own hard-stolen money, I'm not sure how inclined I'll be to share. Maybe I'll only share with the highest bidder, so that we don't run out too fast. It's valuable stuff, you know."

Smirking slightly, he made a show of surveying the surrounding area. "Right," he said at length. "So what does that map of yours show as the fastest means of escaping this wretched, claustrophobic-" a passing dwarf glared at him "-that is to say, this positively marvelous display of true dwarven ingenuity? The sheer majesty of it has me feeling a touch overwhelmed. I cannot bear such splendor for much longer." The instant the scowling dwarf turned back around and went on his way, Kjan made a face at his retreating back. "And the aroma of unbathed dwarves has me feeling positively giddy," he added under his breath before turning back to the others. "Anyway, like I was saying, can we go now?"

The Phantom rolled his eyes at Kjan, but he was rapidly divvying up their collected supplies and handing them out to be divided between packs. When this had been effectively accomplished - except for the pipeweed, which Kjan was all too reluctant to share - he unfolded the map briefly. "Right. Marketplace is here. We came in here, need to go out...here."

Nobody disputed his map-reading skills (though they might have had cause to) and, after a few detours and one minorly disconcerting dead end, the party was exiting past the guards with far less trouble than they'd had coming in. The Phantom, however, didn't quite relax until they'd made it out onto the main thoroughfare. "Remind me," he announced to the group in general, "that if the Keep ever manages to delve itself deep enough that you wonder when you're going to make it into the underworld, it's too deep."

And with this less than complimentary remark about Heiregard in general, they were off. The tunnels coming out were, unsurprisingly, extremely similar to the ones going in, though the distance seemed far shorter due to the imminent arrival of non-recycled air that didn't small vaguely of dust. In fact, the Phantom found himself almost resigned to sleet down the back of his tunic, though he couldn't manage to reconcile himself to the gnomes quite yet.

Fearless leader, it seemed, meant fearless in a sense that more implied 'willing to glance once at a map turned upside down and be unshakably confident of the direction' than, well, fearless leader. Therefore, there were a few more detours and one incident with a very deep mine shaft before they made it to the nearest point at which it was possible to ascend onto the surface of the mountain. This was somewhat dissimilar to the means by which they'd gotten in, and obviously dwarf-made - the tunnel ascended steadily, eventually angling neatly out into a nice little cave that was sheltered impeccably from the elements. Cold air whistled through the only aperture, which was little more than a concealed crack.

The Phantom muttered something about bloody bad luck - he hadn't quite gotten over his ignominious flight down a mine shaft - and stuck his head out the narrow entrance. There was a spluttering sound and he hastily withdrew it, looking a little dazed and much whiter than he had a moment ago, due to being plastered with wet snow. "Right," he gasped, attempting to clear his vision. "This could be a potential setback."

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Kjan looked out through the narrow opening (without actually sticking his head out - he was smarter than that) and grimmaced. It was white. Completely white. As in, absolutely no distinction between sky and ground and anything else. "Lovely," he muttered, moving away from the crack and brushing away the bit of snow that had still made its way through. "Well, anyone who's crazy enough to go out in that, it was nice knowing you. Any volunteers?"

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Three whole days later, Kjan woke to find that the snow was still falling quite heavily, if not quite as maliciously as it had been. There had, predictably, been no one willing to brave the elements in what was apparently an especially fierce blizzard, and so they had decided to just sit in the cave and wait. And wait. And wait. As night had fallen, it had been determined that Heiregard was much too far away to hike all the way back to, and so they had simply set up camp in the cave, pulled out the extra blankets, and waited some more.

It had almost looked like they would be able to go on their way at one point the day before, but by the time they had gathered up their supplies, the wind had been howling as strongly as ever, necessitating even further waiting. Now, however, the wind was finally died down, and though the snow was heavy, one could at least make out vague shapes through the white haze. That was good enough for Kjan, who was currently of the opinion that he would go insane if he was forced to spend another day in close quarters with this lot. And he'd thought Dante was insufferable when there was the option of just walking away.

"Oy," he said, nudging the Phantom in the ribs with his foot. "I think it's finally stopped a bit."

The Phantom groaned and rolled over, blinking. "Whassat?" he mumbled, looking rather more sleep-deprived now than he had seven or eight hours ago when he'd begun attempting slumber on an unforgiving rock floor. "Dwarves?"

Hard to know where this inquiry came from - maybe the rock floor had given him strange dreams - but in a minute the Phantom was sitting up to squint out into a world of dazzling white, and grope for his pack. There were still a few vagrant snowflakes drifting from the pale sky, but nowhere near the blizzard of before. "The main road's south and east," he was rapidly calculating, untangling his cloak to sling around his shoulders. "Rise and shine, you lot! Let's go!"

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"About time," Jate muttered as he sleepily sat up and looked out the hole at the swirling, but no longer heavy, snow. Unfortunately, he now had to tramp miles through said snow. Cold snow. And slippery. Wet things never worked to well with his feet; somehow they couldn't stick together. He proved his point by nearly falling with his first step out of the cave. Pulling his cloak closer about himself, Jate turned to the others. "Ah, back on the road again. How wonderful. Do you expect to find a path in this, or are we just hoping not to fall of the edge of the mountain?"

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going on a journey through my old claims

Ash slung his pack over his shoulders, yawning. "I'm sure the Phantom will do a wonderful job of finding the trail, just like he always does." he said, not sounding entirely confident. Scooping up a handful of snow, he rubbed it briskly over his face. It was amazing how far the chill went towards waking him up.

He stepped out of the cave and stared up at the sky- gloomy and pale, but at least it was actually visible today. "Well, the day's wasting! I'm all ready for a hike in the snow."

"Sunshine on one side and rain on the other," muttered the Phantom in reference to Ash's ever-present optimism and Jate's slightly less cheerful outlook. "And snow underneath," he added, stepping out.

The widespread panorama of mountains around them was all blanketed in a thick carpet of heavy snow. It made everything appear to meld together, creating a confused blur of white sky and white mountain. The Phantom found his gaze bouncing off several peaks, following the confusing valleys and dips, and finally ending up at the steeply descending slope before him. "Right," he said, after a pause, thinking with grim determination that if it were possible to make haste through this snow-blanketed maze of rock, they were going to do it.

His first step sent him skidding several feet down the rock, footing made uncertain by snow. That was one method of haste, he supposed.

-----

Eledhe wasn't going to admit she was worried. The thought was ridiculous. Eledhe Darkstar worried about nothing - who needed to, when anything that annoyed you was easily dispatched with the sharp edge nearest to hand? It wasted valuable time. Of course she wasn't worried.

Besides, her train of reasoning thought liked to run, if they decide they won't have me back - and they'll be idiots to - it isn't as though I've any compunction not to spill every secret I ever halfway heard. I'll even get a commission for it.

But back there, in the fortress...

Shut up, Eledhe told herself irritably. It isn't as though - well - it's not as if - just shut up.

She aimed a halfhearted kick at the nearest pile of leaves, and turned with firewood in hand. The first gaze hers met was an unreadable Elvish one. "Firewood," she said, tone tinged with sarcastic overemphasis. "As in, fuel."

Tomith gave what amounted to a shrug, for an elf, and was uncommunicative. Eledhe wasn't inclined to conversation either. It was a quiet campfire that crackled - even that a little subdued - that night in a thin copse of the last trees before the air got too cold to sustain much vegetation.

Eledhe mapped out their route for the next day in her head after she rolled herself in her cloak to sleep. She wasn't going to admit that was a distraction, either.

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Kjan slid down the slope as well, coming to a somewhat unsteady stop next to the Phantom. "I'd nearly forgotten how much I love walking on snow," he commented dryly as he regained some semblance of balance.

Squinting up at the others, he motioned for them to follow. He, too, was anxious to be on their way as quickly as possible. The past three days had granted a bit of much-needed rest, true enough, and there had been some interesting conversation at times, but it had also wasted a significant amount of crucial time. As far as they knew, no one on the Regent's side had as much information as they did now, but that didn't make haste any less imperative. Judging by the Phantom's relatively restrained (for him) demeanor over the past few days, similar thoughts had been running through their leader's mind, though neither of them had voiced any of their concerns. It somewhat went without saying.

"Do we know how far it is to the main road from here?" he inquired while they waited for the others to follow.

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Silvryn woke the next morning at first light, only to find that Tomith was already awake. Or at least, open-eyed and sitting on a nearby stone. It was difficult to tell, sometimes, whether the impassive elf was 'sleeping' (or the elvish equivalent thereof) or simply ignoring those around him. He was known to alternate between the two without so much as shifting position. She found herself finally appreciative of the lessons that she had so begrudged as a youth, when her tutor had deemed it necessary that she learn Elvish in case the elves ever chose to renew the alliance between the two kingdoms.

Silvryn now wondered, in retrospect, if that had truly been the motivation behind said lessons, but they were nonetheless finally of some use. Tomith proved to be at least marginally more communicative in his own tongue, and though Silvryn was by no means fluent, she had known enough to learn that they would be bypassing the dwarven city on the main road, that he was to deliver a message to the Phantom from Adaniar, and that no, he did not care for Eledhe in the slightest.

Tomith shifted marginally and glanced around, indicating that he had, indeed, been sleeping earlier. "My lady," he said softly, inclining his head slightly in acknowledgment. "Did you require anything?"

Silvryn merely shook her head and rose to a sitting position. "I still can never tell whether you are asleep or not. It is most disconcerting."

"I apologize, my lady," the elf replied, lowering his head further. "I am never truly asleep, but merely resting. I could teach you how, if you so wish. I have never encountered an elf who sleeps as you do."

"Perhaps some other time," Silvryn said dismissively. She did not bother to mention that she had never exactly had occasion to learn even the most common elvish tasks, nor that she was still struggling to accept that such things were even possible. Indeed, much of the past three days had been spent in pensive silence as she had sorted through all that she had been told the potential implications. She was perplexed and, though she would never admit it, more than a little scared.

If she was, indeed, the Elvish heir, then Kytana would be left without an heir at all, thus making the Regent the lawful king. Was she to serve the kingdom that was hers by blood, or the one that was hers in her heart? Would she serve both? Could she serve both?

It was rare times like this that made Silvryn painfully aware of her mere twenty-four years. Less than a quarter of a century - a mere child by Elvish standards, only barely an adult by human, and faced with determining the fate of not one, but two entire kingdoms. Silvryn was not the type to indulge in self-pity, but she could not help but feel slightly overwhelmed. Tomith, though clearly wise, was not exactly the sort that one went to for counsel, and Eledhe was...Eledhe. Silvryn would sooner ask the rock on which Tomith was sitting than seek advice from Eledhe.

Not for the first time, she realized how keenly she missed the Phantom. The Phantom, who was always there to confer, to counsel, to console....Silvryn shook her head slightly at the last thought. Where had that come from? The Phantom was friendly enough, certainly, but he always maintained a respectful distance, doing only what was required of him. He was a colleague, a collaborator. He certainly wasn't the type to go to for emotional matters.

"We should go," she said abruptly, rising to her feet and brushing away a few dry leaves. "It is imperative that we catch up to them as quickly as possible."

Ash slid down the hill and joined the Phantom and Kjan, stumbling and flailing his arms to come to a stop. "A road? A road sounds very nice." he said, catching Kjan's last comment. This hike in the snow wasn't turning out to be quite as enjoyable as he had originally thought, and the thought of dirt under his feet was sounding very good indeed.

"After we do find this road, we head towards the Heartshard, I'm assuming?" He idly kicked at the snow, waiting until all the group had caught up.

There was the barest moment of hesitation before the Phantom responded in the affirmative. "Aye," he said, still scanning the mountains as they walked - or rather, attempted to walk and not skid. "Aye. We'll need to make good time."

No time to go back for Silvryn and Eledhe...even less, with those three days they'd been trapped by the snowstorm. He'd rather hoped...

The Phantom shrugged off the thought, relegating it to the back of his mind. He'd long ago made it a principle not to worry at things that couldn't be fixed. But a sense of guilt still managed to fight past the determined barrier he erected against such things. It was nonsense. He wasn't responsible for Silvryn - she'd never needed his protection, only his help. Idiotic of him, to feel as though he was betraying some sort of trust.

"The main road is south and east, like I said," he continued briskly, shrugging up his pack. "We'll follow that and detour later, as long as we don't run into a patrol." He grinned, rather too deviously to mean good things. "Good for anger management."



The day was relatively uneventful, if one disregarded headlong flight into a snowbank four or five times, several close calls with steep and slippery rock mountainsides, and a small fiasco involving the Phantom and a very strangely behaving woodchuck.

However, they made it to a sheltering copse of pine trees by the time the air was getting cold enough to merit the Phantom making sure the end of his nose wasn't going to drop off. The new tinderbox proved useful in hastily throwing together a campfire - to neutralize the numb tip of the Phantom's nose - and then he sat back on his heels to scan the area.

Further up in the mountains, wisps of threatening cloud were beginning to make themselves known around the snow-crusted peaks. The Phantom found himself fervently glad that they'd made it far enough to take shelter among the conifers, and blew on the fire. "Volunteers for first watch?" he said, with an attempt at brisk cheerfulness

-----

The throwing star glinted slightly, spinning up - and down - and up - and down. Eledhe kept tossing it idly, the motion second nature and conducive the lack of thought that she was intent on achieving. The edges hummed very slightly, razor-sharp against the air. She gave it a twist, deftly changing the pattern as they walked, her in the lead. She'd fallen into position at the head of the party, and neither Silvryn nor Tomith seemed to object - maybe they wanted to keep and eye on her.

It took Eledhe a split second to assimilate when the star didn't land back between her fingertips. Jerking to attention, she half-whirled to find Tomith turning it in his hands. "That's mine," she snapped, intolerant of the interruption - how dare he, with his bloody Elvish reflexes -!

"I have never seen such a thing," he said abruptly, lilting the unfamiliar Common tongue with a perceptibly Elvish accent.

"Aye, it's mine," Eledhe returned irritably.

Still he did not hand it back. "Among my people we do not use such things."

"Yes, well, you've made it quite clear I'm not one of you." Eledhe's expression was set.

His only reply was a glance, and then Eledhe was turning it between her fingers again as he fell back to walk with Silvryn. Abruptly, she didn't feel like indulging in the pastime any longer. The star vanished into her pouch and instead Eledhe folded her arms and stalked along the tree-lined trail.

Bloody elves. Eledhe somewhat vented her feelings by calling them every derogatory name she could conjure over the next silent day of walking.

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Kjan found himself suddenly fascinated with a tree that was conveniently not in the direction of anyone else in the party as he waited for someone else to volunteer. He would have, under normal circumstances, possibly volunteered himself, but he happened to be positively freezing, not to mention more than a little hungry. He could take a later watch. However, after several minutes of silence, he grew aware of everyone staring at him. Grudgingly, he looked up at the Phantom, who merely gazed steadily back.

"...I'm going, I'm going," he muttered resignedly, though not without a longing glance toward the fire. Slinging his pack onto the ground, Kjan dug out a piece of bread for supper and headed off in the direction of a stone he had spotted earlier that would give him a good view of the area while staying within earshot of the camp. He sat down reluctantly on the cold rock, drew his cloak closer, and pulled out his pipe for a smoke.

He'd been sitting for almost fifteen minutes in silence when he thought he saw a flicker of movement in the trees. Frowning, Kjan quickly extinguished the pipe and loosened one of his knives in its sheath. He slowly got to his feet and crept forward, senses alert. "Many rebel inwardly..." he said softly, out of habit more than anything.

"But only the brave show it outright."

Kjan whirled around at the unexpected reply and found himself face-to-face with an equally inexpected individual. "You!" he exclaimed, surprise superceding protocol. "What-"

"It is too long to explain twice. Where is the Phantom, Kjan?"

"He's - wait, how do I know you're actually the princess?" Kjan asked warily.

Silvryn sighed in exasperation. "Were you born like this, or did your nurse drop you on your head repeatedly as a child?" she replied dryly. "Who else would I be?"

Kjan immediately bowed eloquently. "My Lady Silvryn," he said deferentially. "One can never be too careful, you know. All sorts of strange people wandering about, pretending to be princesses who are supposed to be kidnapped or imprisoned or possibly even dead, nowadays. My apologies. That does, however, beg the question..." Suddenly, his knives were both out as he looked past Silvryn and saw her companions.

"You," he said flatly, clearly meaning Eledhe. "If you don't have a very good reason for being here...."

"She is with me," Silvryn quickly interjected. "They both are. It is...complicated. That is why I must speak to the Phantom as soon as possible. Take me to him, and I shall explain everything."

Kjan slowly slid the blades back into their sheaths and nodded. "I think it would be best if only you accompanied me at the moment, my lady. Your appearance is surprising enough without...that." He waved vaguely toward Eledhe, then turned to address said mercenary. "I would advise that you follow us out of sight and pray to whatever dark gods you serve that the Phantom's in as good of a mood as I am."

That said, he turned and began leading the princess back to the camp, pondering the best way to break the news. 'Hey, guess who I found?' didn't seem quite suitable for an occurence of such magnitude. 'Presenting Her Royal Highness, Silvryn Seilhera'? 'I bring you your future queen'? Kjan was still mulling it over as they neared the ring of firelight, and even as he stepped into sight before the princess.

"Hey, guess who I found?"

How typical. He'd just gotten warm and toasty by the fire, and now he'd probably have to get up or some such other thing. Jate looked up resignedly, then did a double take. The missing princess? Thought lost for forever? So much so that the Phantom would rather look for a lost artifact than her? How did she end up here?

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going on a journey through my old claims