“You can make it from here,” Bik’nar told Fawnlum.

With the uzruuls’ own night vision, knowledge of the forest, and concealment enchantment, they had guided the Coastals back toward East Osterly.

Fawnlum took stock of her comrades.  After brief snippets of rest – not even using their nests – and less food, they were in a spent state.  If they laid down right now, they would be too tired to sleep.

Her eyes were level with Bik’nar’s, as she was standing bent over from her throbbing leg, holding back her pain.  Fawnlum watched the stern gaze, as she straightened back up.

“You can stop pretending now,” the elf scolded her.  “You’re only a few hundred yards from the Garrior Trail.”

“Hah.  I’ve stood worse than this.  You should have seen the time I fought through the swamp country of Khostead, with a herniated stab wound.”

“What I’ve seen, is your refusing treatment.”

“And wisely so.”  She nodded at Bik’nar’s dark elf comrades – – five other women in all.  “Your healing spells come with an effort, and should not be spent on a wound that’s not bleeding.”

“Well, now that the tri-cleorps have stopped chasing you, do see to it.  And if you come back into this forest,” she continued, “best bring an army.  You’ve killed their cleric.  They’ll stop at nothing to get you now.”

Fawnlum nodded.

“I forgot to ask before,” she said, “but how did you know we were in trouble in the first place?”

Bik’nar grinned in such an amused and assured manner, Fawnlum would not have thought the quiet and controlled elf capable of such mirth.  “Our goddess has many eyes in many places.”

“Well, my thanks to you again.  May your goddess see you safely on your way, with victory over your enemies.  If ever a sword is needed at your side, ask.”

The uzruul nodded, and then, pulling her hood back over her silvery hair, silently slipped back into the shadows, her sisters following her.

Fawnlum looked toward the trail in the scraggly daylight.

“Come on,” she told her weary company.  “We’re going back to town, and find Banacheck.”

“What for?” Halrick asked.

“He and his dwarves are going to be part of the new strategy.”

“Maybe we should look in Dark Hulthuein,” Lucas suggested.  “Remember?  That’s where they do their hunting.”

“Dark Hulthuein it is!”

“With our current provisions?” Halrick burst out, none too politely.  “What are we to do, eat Lucas’ books?”

Lucas looked sheepish, through the dark circles under his eyes, tightening his grip on his book-laden pack, which he had clung to all through the retreat.

Fawnlum herself had born the pack part of the way, showing how insignificant her injury was.

Sienna folded her arms.  “I’m not going anywhere, until you get that leg healed.  Or will you use the bright glow of your wound to light our way?”

“We’ve been run out of the forest,” she continued.  “You’ve lost control of your personal war.”

“The enemy came,” she calmly told Sienna.  “Now we give back.”

She forced her gimping leg out nice and straight, and took a step.

“All right,” she acquiesced.  “Let’s find the city gate.”