The Phantom glanced once, briefly, over his shoulder. "Found? I thought we were the only ones insane enough to -" and stopping abruptly, he stared past Kjan with an attitude of petrified surprise.

There was a moment of frozen silence while he assimilated who exactly it was who was crazy enough to wander around a snow-blanketed mountain range - other than him - and then the Phantom leapt to his feet with a shout, scattering half-ignited bits of brush from the fire he'd been coaxing into life. "Silvryn!?"

The apathetic observer might have noted his neglect of the title 'milady', but under the circumstances it was understandable. Fire abandoned, the Phantom dashed the few feet to where Silvryn hung back behind Kjan and seized her in a most un-deferential hug. Simultaneously he felt the urge to swear profusely and whoop in sudden and intoxicating happiness, quite unaware that his grip might be slightly suffocating.

Letting go, he grasped her by the shoulders, finding violet eyes that were an exceedingly welcome sight. "Seven bloody levels of the bloody flaming underworld!" he exploded, going with the swearing idea. "Where have you been ? Are you all right? Dark gods - where's Eledhe? I'm going to..."

The threat trailed off into silence - Eledhe had wisely not yet shown herself - and the Phantom found that he wasn't interested in coming up with dire things to do to Eledhe at this particular moment in time. Silvryn was back and safe and - was that the moon grinning? He wouldn't be half surprised if it were - he found that the best way to embody his violent relief was to hug her again.

_________________

Silvryn stepped forward, only to find herself literally lifted from the ground in a crushing hug as the Phantom openly expressed his elation. She surprised herself by returning the embrace as best she could with her arms as restricted as they were, and even laughing softly. (This was quite significant for someone who was typically able to communicate her entire range of emotions without the slightest change of facial expression.) After a moment, however, she stopped laughing - primarily because she found herself unable to breathe. "Phan- Phantom, I can't...You're...."

Kjan, having no desire to witness any further displays of affection - not that he expected them, but just in case the unpredictable nature of that evening led to something - turned around to see if Eledhe had, indeed, followed as instructed (also not something that he much expected). To his surprise, the stranger whom he had seen with Silvryn and Eledhe was now not-so-subtly prodding the mercenary forward, with something that almost bordered on mischief reflected in his otherwise impassive facial expression.

Kjan smirked slightly. He might just like this one.

Guiltily, the Phantom put her down. "Sorry," he said, managing to grin and look suitably ashamed of himself at the same time. Vaguely, the notion filtered through that it was wildly against any sort of protocol to be hugging one's future monarch, but it had been a long time since he'd cared in the least. She looked strained, tense, he found himself noticing. But stars, it was Silvryn! A touch apologetically, he grinned down at her. "You, my lady, have just managed to make up for the lack of sun in that bloody dwarf city."

There was a delicate cough in the dimness past Silvryn, and he glanced up. Eledhe was coolly appraising him, arms folded over her chest.

It was a little alarming, how fast his expression went from boyishly happy to the angriest any of the party had seen him in years. The greatsword was half out of its sheath before he remembered to halt it.

"Right," the Phantom growled, "give me one good reason your head should remain on your shoulders."

Eledhe flipped her braid over her shoulder, not moving. "I'm rather not in the mood for empty threats," she said sardonically. "Like to make good on that claim?"

This was, if possible, the worst thing she could have said. And she probably knew it. Eledhe exacerbated the insult by sauntering toward the fire, as if to shoulder past him.

"Get out. Now." The Phantom was standing squarely between the mercenary and the fire, hand on the hilt of his broadsword.

"Make me," Eledhe taunted spitefully, gaze a study in ice.

"How long were you planning this?" bellowed the Phantom, shoving her backwards against a tree. Eledhe's shurikens came out in a flash of steel, akin to claws. "How long were you waiting for the right moment - 'Oh, sorry, was that a dagger in your back?'"

"Oh, so this is what I get after five bloody years of making sure you didn't stick your bloody boot in your mouth?" snarled Eledhe. "No pay, insisting on that insufferable arrogant wench of a princess always hanging about making comments about how 'the mercenary' was no better than a common -"

The Phantom's fist came dangerously close, and Eledhe was in no position to dodge. "Say that one more time," he grated, "and I swear by every deity from here to the edge of the world that you will regret it."

Eledhe's lip curled in a sneer. "I'm not your little princess, to cower because the big bad Phantom got angry," she taunted viciously, and leapt, catlike, out of range. The Phantom whipped around, greatsword now fully unsheathed, but Eledhe was faster. A throwing star hovered in her fingers, poised to slice through the air for his throat. "I'm coming with you," she said, every word bitten off with malicious precision. "Or I swear, by every bloody deity from here to the bloody edge of the world, that anything you called secret will be bandied about like gossip from Y'rydha to Port Brevenn."

There was a moment of tense silence. "One wrong step," said the Phantom, voice dangerously soft, "and I swear to you, Eledhe Darkstar, I will kill you."

Eledhe's laugh rang. "Oh?" she began. The Phantom's strike caught her full in the face, and cut the mercenary off, more out of shock than anything else. She registered that her lip was bleeding.

"Oh aye," said the Phantom, matching her for vicious precision, and turned his back to leave her standing in the snow, quivering with rage and entirely unable to vent it on anyone in the vicinity.

_________________

The tension in the air during the conflict was almost tangible, settling over the camp like an oppressive weight. It was as though everyone had forgotten to breathe, so caught up were they in this contest of wills, and when the two finally separated, there was a collective exhalation from those observing. Even after it was over, it took several seconds for anyone to move. It was only when people began gradually reclaiming their seats that Kjan's hand slowly released its death grip on the hilt of his knife.

After he'd sat down, Kjan dug through his pack for a moment, then wordlessly tossed a relatively clean rag and one of the almost-empty flasks of ale in Eledhe's direction, discreetly indicating her bloody lip. Then, he casually took out his pipe and resumed smoking. He'd be cursed if he hadn't already done more than his duty as watcher for the evening.


Silvryn, for her part, was not entirely sure what to make of the conflict. She certainly had not forgiven Eledhe yet, as the mercenary was hardly remorseful or repentant. She had been a bit more subdued over the past few days, perhaps, but Silvryn attributed that to having finally been faced with beings superior to herself, among whom she was nothing special, and even below average. Eledhe certainly had made no attempts at making ammends or sought forgiveness of any sort. Indeed, she had yet to even admit that what she had done was wrong. Silvryn was not even certain why she had insisted upon the mercenary leaving with them in the first place.

The was also the small matter of the Phantom. For some absurd reason, Silvryn found herself almost flattered that he had been so irate over the whole matter, though the more logical part of her mind insisted that he was merely upset because the mercenary had undermined half a decade of trust and hard work. That was all, of course. If he had been angry for her sake at all, it had been only because she was the future monarch, as far as he knew. Which reminded her....

"Phantom," she said quietly after a few minutes of silence, sitting down on the stone next to him (or rather, the stone furthest away from Eledhe that only happened to be next to the Phantom). "I am aware that you are upset, but the mercenary's...mistake did lead to a significant and greatly disturbing discovery that I feel must be addressed as quickly as possible." She started at evening when they had found themselves captures, smoothly gliding over parts that involved how she personally was treated and instead placing emphasis on the various discussions that had occured, especially with Raen and then later Adaniar.

When she had finally finished, Silvryn looked up from her folded hands and into the Phantom's eyes - they were grey, she suddenly noted with detached interest, though she had no doubt noticed it before and simply dismissed it. "I am afraid that this 'rebellion,' as we call it, may have far greater significance and far greater foes than we had ever imagined possible. This is no longer solely about Kytana, Phantom."

There was a long silence after she finished speaking, and Tomith use the lull to finally interject with a slight bow in Silvryn's direction. "Phantom Grey," he began in his heavily accented Common. "I was sent as a guide for the princess, but also as an ambassador from Lord Adaniar himself. He and my partner are traveling as we speak to meet the remainder of our dwindling forces. Our numbers thin daily, and it will not be long before we are forced to yield entirely to the might of Raen. We would, if you are willing, allign ourselves with your forces, for the good of Kytana and all kingdoms beyond it. Lord Adaniar humbly requests that you consider it."

The Phantom listened throughout the story, expression unreadable. He'd been staring moodily into the fire until Silvryn sat down, understandably sobered by interaction with the spitefully unrepentant Eledhe. Admittedly, by dint of her decisions they might well be acquiring a valuable alliance with the remaining Elven contingent that did not already follow this Raen, but she had hardly done anything to bring it about. Anything positive emerging from this encounter was pure luck, and none could be attributed to the mercenary.

He was not inclined to be forgiving. Eledhe could and would pay for what she'd done, no matter how well things had ended.

But as for Silvryn's account of events...the Phantom found himself working to assimilate it all. She smoothly evaded any specifics regarding treatment of herself, an element which had not escaped him, but from what little he could glean, Raen did not seem a vindictive type; at least, not enough to merit ill treatment of anyone as valuable as Silvryn. But her descriptions, however brief, of the stronghold and its inmates...the Phantom was worried. He'd never considered that a rebellion would mean contending against the keenly intelligent, physically superior Elves.

Even supposing they were allied with the few that still supported Silvryn and Adaniar as leaders, the thought added a new dimension to the concept of rebellion. And then Silvryn! Heir to two kingdoms, both of which teetered on the edge of falling before the encroaching force. The Phantom did not doubt that Raen could manage to crush any resistance the Regent managed. No. It was up to him. Him, and Silvryn. He glanced briefly down at her, feeling compelled to put a reassuring arm around her slender shoulders, but made no move to do so.

Abruptly, he rose to give Tomith his hand, nodding before the tall elf had finished speaking. "Aye, your Lord Adaniar is welcome. I need no time for consideration - your people honor me by the proposal alone."

The elf inclined his head. "If all goes well, our forces hope to have gathered at Mednessen - Griffin's Fells in your tongue - two weeks from now. He hopes you will meet him there."

The Heartshard - aye, they'd make it in two weeks. They had to. The Phantom nodded. "He'll see us there."

Tomith smiled briefly, angular face fleetingly less Elvishly aloof. "If my Lord were here he would express his gratitude, Phantom Grey."

"Just the Phantom," said the indicated rebel leader, sitting down. He glanced around at the circle of firelit faces. "Right, get some sleep, you lot. Ash, you're on watch. Wake me when it's over." His gaze lingered briefly on Eledhe, then longer on Silvryn, before the Phantom cleared his throat pointedly. "You all struck dumb?"

There was a stirring of movement, and the Phantom turned to Silvryn before he went to roll himself in his cloak with the rest. For a moment, there was silence. Then he squeezed her shoulder. "Good to have you back."

_________________

Wrapping himself in his cloak, Ash sat down on a tree stump on the outskirts of the camp. He realized that, for once, he was glad to be on watch. His thoughts were so tangled that he didn't know if he could go to sleep, and this would give him time to sort through those thoughts.

<i>She's back!</i> he reminded himself in disbelief. He had to admit that he had begun to doubt they would ever see Silvryn again, and to see her come marching into the camp... The Phantom had seemed the happiest of all of them, even managing to coax a rare bit of laughter from the princess. She solved the problem of the Heartshard, he supposed. Maybe they would have a bit of luck at last.

Of course, that mercenary's return wouldn't make things any easier. Thinking of her, Ash stood and started pacing around the outside of the circle of campfire light, keeping a close eye on Eledhe. The agreement between her and the Phantom seemed tenuous at best, but she wouldn't be sticking one of those throwing stars in the Phantom's back, not on Ash's watch, anyway. He trusted his leader, but couldn't help feeling uneasy about the whole thing. <i>What d'you expect him to do, Ash?</i> he asked himself. <i>Cut her throat? Tie her up and carry her all the way?</i> No, there weren't many options presenting themselves.

Ash's gaze shifted to the elf- his eyes were open and he was sitting under a tree, but not moving. Was that how they slept? Odd. Ash tried to shrug off the uncomfortable feeling that Tomith was watching him. Bloody elf. <i>Just what the rebellion needs- bloody-minded elves.</i> From what he had heard of the race, they were all proud and self-absorbed, looking down on others as 'inferior'. Ash sighed. Well, that was none of his business. He just followed orders, but that couldn't stop him from feeling uneasy about the whole affair.

The hours of his watch crawled by, punctuated by bouts of pacing. Ash found he was keeping a closer eye on activities within the camp than without. Finally, his watch ended with no threats having presented themselves. He slipped into the camp and woke the Phantom, reported all was quiet, then wrapped himself in his blanket and lay down by the fire. He stared into the flames for several long minutes, still mulling over events of the evening, before forcing himself to close his eyes and go to sleep.

The Phantom, having duly completed his watch after Ash, was awake when dawn flushed the snow-covered mountains first pale pink, and then vibrant vermilion and orange. He'd taken the opportunity of being left awake alone (unless one counted Tomith, who didn't seem to need the sleep) to exercise his authority and commandeer some of Kjan's pipeweed, which made the last few hours before dawn much more enjoyable.

Coaxing the banked fire into life with a few added bits of brush and some blowing, he dug some dried meat out of his pack to gnaw on and gave the two nearest, Jate and Kjan, a helpful shove to aid in awakening themselves. He eyed Eledhe, but she was likewise sleeping; the mercenary had better indulge herself while she could, he found himself thinking grimly. She'd find her position with this party in general had taken a steep dive.

When the camp had stirred into something resembling wakefulness, he spread the map he'd acquired in front of him and mulled it over for a few moments. Fortunately, the main road looked to be less than an hour's walking from their current position, from what he could glean (the map was dwarf-made and inconveniently used runes rather than any sort of writing he could read), which was a much-needed boon in itself.

Fire stamped out and all personal items collected, they were traversing the remaining stretch of mountains by the time the sun was visible between peaks. It was with some relief that the Phantom stopped at the height of one rocky rise to scan the winding road below. "Gets easier from here," he called back to those behind, and shrugged his pack up to begin descending.

((Cue Valera ))

_________________

(whee!)

Haiyya Renkath, itinerant bard that she was, had decided to take it easy that particular morning. A convenient niche in the mountainside, several hundred meters away from the main road, had provided ample shelter against the chill winds that swept down the clear road, channeled by the rises on either side. A small fire, hidden from observation by the niche, had kept her warm - so warm, in fact, that she was reluctant to leave.

So she slept in, and let the sunrise proceed without her encouragement.

She could afford to take some time, she reflected, after she tired of this new recreation. Hobbling her horse to let him graze the range, she poked some more wood into her fire. The hour-old morning was still nippy. As far as Haiyya was concerned, she was ahead of schedule. Or what she chose to call her schedule. She didn't have a set time to pop into towns, cities, and waystations, but she was expected at certain times of the year. Or rather, some were more profitable than others. Harvest-time, for instance. Town festivals.

As a bard, her wares were songs, stories, and news. She toyed with the idea of just staying put for the day. How many world-shaking events could happen in that one extra day? Maybe she'd even do something productive, such as getting some new ballads written.

Haiyya Renkath uncased her harp. She ran some scales, warming up, then sent a few major chords bouncing off the surrounding crags. There was that one rhythm that had been teasing at her mind for the past week, practically begging for words - and it was catchy. She began plucking it out above the chords, letting it find a melody, and spontaneously added a wordless counterpoint harmony in her own clear voice.

A rock hit her harp.

A pebble bounced off her soundboard, to be precise, but it was still unexpected. She stood up, halfway between surprise and anger, brushed her dress off, and found the perpetrator as the tones died off the mountainside. Perpetrators.

A party of ... several, twenty feet above her head, hiking down an obscure trail. And by Klathern - she recognized them.

_________________


<center>Nothing but the Rain</center>

Even the dreadful walk up steeps mountains, with continual tripping and scraping and pains-in-the-back couldn't dampen the jubilant mood that hung about the small group like a fog. Even the presence of a traitor among them and an unknown elf who disturbed Dante in ever sense of the word, couldn't dampen it.

It was like someone had gone and frosted all their heads with sugar in the night. Smiles were freer, laughter more carefree, and even Dante found himself chuckling at some wisecrack now and then. It frightened him, and once again he shelled up in a healthy, protective amount of dour scowls.

The presence of the princess among them again worked like the sun on a mountain of snow. Dante had almost forgotten how some girls could do things like that. It was outright <i>eerie</i>, it was.

And yet it was so hard to frown on a downward descent when everyone else was smiling. And just as they started, Dante heard a noise that, for all the world, sounded just like music. He paused, confounded and a bit disturbed.

<i>I didn't just hear that</i> he told himself. <i>It's this blasted joviality that doing it to me, that's what.</i>

And yet, he couldn't shake off the feeling that somewhere the sound of music had touched his ears. In what he hoped was a completely nonchalant way, he asked, "Did any of you just hear something?"

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

The Phantom, having been whistling (he was feeling quite especially cheerful, which was unsurprising under the circumstances) ceased in order to hear whatever it was that Dante was referring to. For a moment he thought it was merely echoes, reverberating off the rocky cliffs, but there was definitely a melody there.

Skidding down the last ten feet or so of the trail, which turned to rocky scree under his boots, the Phantom dusted himself off and cast about for the source of said melody, which seemed to have stopped. It took precisely half a turn before he laid eyes on someone he rather thought he recognized.

"It seems I was presumptuous to consider wandering around these blasted mountains to be a pastime only employed by those a bit touched in the head," he said cheerfully. "Haiyya, I believe it was?"

_________________

Haiyya, having had a few moments to recover from her surprise, inclined her head slightly. "I'm deeply honored by your willingness to consider me sane, sir." Looping the harp's strap over her shoulder, she cradled the instrument under her right arm. "The self-proclaimed Phantom, an' I'm not mistaken. Although I might have expected your arrival to be a tad more - ghostly, if I may take poetic license."

She spread her arms wide, taking in the whole of the arriving party. "Welcome, one an' all, to my humble bivouac." Reseating herself on a handy stump, she inquired further, striking a chord on the harp. "I'm flattered that you would seek me out. How might I be of assistance?"

_________________


<center>Nothing but the Rain</center>

"Actually, we just happened to be going this way," Kjan replied offhandedly after identifying the young woman as the Phantom's favorite bard. He seemed to consider for a moment, then added as an afterthought, "Unless, of course, you've had opportunity to begin composing the epic ballad that we discussed previously, in which case I'm certain that everyone would-"

"Would appreciate it if you ceased talking," Silvryn interjected smoothly, turning to appraise their acquaintance. A bard. Not exceptionally useful in battle or any related tasks, for the most part, but excellent sources of information. Silvryn sincerely doubted that Raen would be sitting idle as his most valuable prisoner was traipsing through the mountains. Perhaps this bard would be able to give them some sort of idea as to what they would be facing in this region.

"You have been traveling along the main road, then?" she asked, now addressing the bard. "Have you witnessed anything unusual? Any rumors or strange sights that might be of relevance to our cause? We are on a rather crucial part of our journey at the moment, and any information which you might impart would be invaluable."

"Whether or not this road is safe for travel would be a nice start," Kjan added. "Always nice to know whether or not you're about to run into a group of soliders."

Haiyya raised an eyebrow. "Invaluable, ma'am?" she repeated slowly. Now here was an opportunity that had not presented itself before ... and as her fingers absently brushed the soundboard of her harp, she realized that she was inclined to make the most of it.

"But surely you might assign some value to it," the bard continued, looking up at the high-born through coquettish eyelashes. "Being that your lives might depend on it. How much is that to you?"

_________________


<center>Nothing but the Rain</center>

Feigning disappointment, the Phantom put on an aggrieved expression. "I didn't take you for an extortionist, my lady minstrel," he said mournfully. "Perhaps we're just penniless revolutionaries in need of a little assistance?"

He decided it wasn't just him that thought Haiyya looked decidedly skeptical, and dropped the affectation. "Right. Er, I'm not acquainted with what one of your profession might require." He indicated the neat little mountain abode vaguely. "You have...rocks...and a harp."

There was a pointed silence. "Or you could just tell us if you've seen soldiers," said the Phantom hopefully, "and I could use all this hard-earned money of mine for things like sustenance."

----

An hour or two later they were making their way down the steeply descending road that led out of the mountain pass, and the Phantom was grumbling to Kjan. "Extortion, that was," he was saying crossly, fingering the gold pieces - the number of which had been depleted - that remained in his belt pouch. "I hope we've enough left for horses."

It was customary, when the Phantom was concerned about something, for him to grumble about anything and everything besides that something. It this case, it was the valuable information Haiyya had supplied them with. Soldiers, their armor unmistakably emblazoned with the insignia of Y'rydha's military faction, had indeed been marching through the mountain passes. There wasn't much doubt as to where they could be going. It was too much of a coincidence - the Elves proposing Griffin's Fells as a meeting place, and almost immediately afterward, soldiers heading in precisely that direction.

The Phantom shrugged his pack up, expression set. He did not appreciate complications.

_________________

Kjan, who had stolen their map from the Phantom in favor of studying it more closely, made a noncommittal noise at the mention of mounts. "If we're buying horses, then it'll have to be here," he noted, indicating a spot roughly halfway between themselves. "Do we even have that much left, though? That wasn't the first bit of price-gouging that we've experienced, and it won't be the last." He paused with a slight grimmace. "Besides, I've only ever encountered two horses that found me tolerable, and both took months of searching to find. I don't fancy riding through the mountains on a horse that would like to see me dead."

He cast a discreet glance over his shoulder before adding under his breath, "Nor with a mercenary who would like as not encourage such sentiments."

Silvryn, who had been engaged in a discussion with Tomith about something, noted the map in Kjan's hands and quickly excused herself from the conversation in order to join the two at the head of the party. "I related last night all that occured to and around me," she commented, falling into stride with them. "However, I've yet to hear of your own findings. You were able to locate the dwarven city, yes? Did you learn anything of that which we are pursuing?"

The Phantom briefly summarized their stay in the dwarven city, up to and including - in an undertone - what they'd been told about Jate. "If what he says about royal blood is true," he added, "you're more than likely to have the ability to effectively use it. Unless being twice royal is taboo." He grinned, lopsidedly, glancing once more down at the map and then folding it to put in his pocket.

"Said mercenary's been quiet," he muttered at Kjan, not glancing over his shoulder but casting a somewhat oblique look at Silvryn. Truth be told, he alternated between distinct anger and a vague sense of shame regarding the previous night's events. Abruptly, the thought struck him that Silvryn had said very little regarding Eledhe's treatment of her, or that of the elves. "So, I'm not very well acquainted with elves in general, excluding present company," he began, working around the edges of the subject. "I'd imagine they're rather...different."


Eledhe, at the rear of the party, had attempted to listen a few times, but she realized as much as any of them that any efforts in that direction were very likely pointless. Nonetheless, being utterly ignored in such a manner irked her. She had decided to come back.

Quickening her pace, Eledhe sidled forward until she was somewhat level with Ash, Jate and Dante, and contemplated if this might be a good time to demonstrate the civil tongue that she kept somewhere, but hadn't much occasion to use. It made a quasi-appearance.

"I realize that if there were a hierarchy here, I'm rather lower than the proverbial dog," she began, acidly. "If there's any vital information that the likes of you don't mind disclosing, I give my utterly worthless word to keep it to myself."

_________________