A slight young man brought out more plates bearing steaming food. At the sight of the meal, the adventurers seemed to loose some of their nervousness, quickly taking their seats. Even Renard, still irritated from the conversation, took a seat on the left of their host. Smelling the savor of roasted pork, Dale finally broke with the shadows, causing everyone to look up. A ripple of surprised comments rose from the table.

“Dale?” Daneska leapt up from her seat and ran across the cave, embracing her firmly. “Oh gods, we couldn’t find you…I thought you’d been eaten.”

The mesmer took her by the hand and dragged her to the table. The others stared at her in apparent disbelief, all except Hebek, who was looking at the table with a tight smile on her lips. Dale took a seat between Hebek and Daneska. Beneath the table the necromancer touched her arm.

“Good to see you alive.” She whispered. “Dan has been accusing me of killing you for the last few days. Are you alright?.”

“I think so.” Dale took a portion of meat from the laden platter, followed by fruit, rice and some kind of pudding.

“Where are Arn and Demen?”

“They are still resting. They nearly died fighting the drakes on the beach to keep the rest of us safe. I must say that though it was fortunate they had their armor, using a paddle and a stick to fight a drake is not recommended.” The words were humorous, but Hebek's voice was expressionless and strained. Hebek wanted it to be funny, but Dale understood that perhaps resting was a light word to describe how the warriors really were.

“So what is this place?” She asked when conversation died to a few spare words.

“The guild hall of Ring and Raven. I am sure if we could check the rolls in Lion’s Arch we would discover it is defunct. However, the old man seems to be pleasantly deluded. If he wants to keep housing and feeding us until we find a way off the island….its not a problem.”

“A guild hall?”

“A proper guild hall complete with grounds.” Hebek shrugged. “Comes with nutty landlord.”

Dale ate for awhile in silence, taking in the reactions from everyone at the table, in particular Huon was looking at her and then looking away when their eyes met. Renard would not even look at her while his other two guild mates seemed almost too ashamed to look up from their plates. Only the lord had no reaction to her; he was preoccupied with the meal and no longer talking. The servant Petri cleaned up after them and came back with fruit and custard.

“Where does the food come from?” Dale asked as she licked her fingers. “I mean…the jungle doesn’t have this, and I didn’t see any rice paddies or chickens for that matter. The custard is very good…”

“Magic explains everything.” Daneska laughed on her right. “You never stop thinking…that is why I like you Dale. My mother would say I get up at sunrise and you get up at first light. Yes indeed. They must get their supplies somewhere. There are at least thirty people that live in the village above the cave, and all of them look well fed. No sign of a farm.”

“Well it could be magic I guess.” Dale shrugged.

“Food magic? No, as much as Hebek can live on death and I could survive on ether for awhile, neither of us can make a loaf of bread without an oven. So there is something up here and it could bear some study.”

“If it is magic then I am stealing the spell for the custard.” Hebek said after a moment. “He may be crazy, but he has a good cook.”

The three of them glanced to the end of the table where the lord was now talking loudly to Renard. The old man had obviously mistaken him for someone else and was talking about past battles, an odd light in his eyes. Renard, bludgeoned into silence by the lord’s resistance to reality, was nodding and smiling patiently. Presently the table was cleared, the lord stood and dismissed them before walking away with his two ever present servants. Dale followed Daneska up some stairs at the back of the cave. They arrived in a shady courtyard surrounded by white washed buildings. A pair of women fetched water at the fountain and left, barely sparing them a glance.

“We have quarters over here. There is a spare bunk in my room. You can sleep there if you want.” Daneska led her up a few low stairs to another little courtyard. There were several doors, all of them open to let the breezes cool them. The room they entered was simple and the furnishings not much more than saplings and wicker lashed together.

“One of the natives told me that the lodgings for the old members are locked up. After I pressed them a little. These seemed a bit austere compared to Red Claw. However, after the ship and after the jungle…I don’t mind.” The mesmer shook her head. “I was wondering though…are you angry with us for leaving you? You have said so little.”

“No. I was scared perhaps…but I understood.”

“You are so dear.” Daneska sighed. “Even Hebek is starting to be fond of you, and Arn says she hardly warms to anyone.”

“How are they? Arn and Demen?”

“Without a monk? Bad. Surprised they walked all the way.”

“Can I see them?”

Daneska nodded and led her from the room. They came into a room almost identical to the one they had left. A cloying odor of rotting flesh and herbs met her nostrils. She recognized Arn asleep on one cot. Demen’s face was horribly burned and she only guessed it was him; the warrior hardly stirred but for a gentle rise and fall of his chest.

“Who is caring for them?”

“Hebek has been sustaining them, but she is a necromancer, not a healer.” Daneska sighed. “I cleaned and removed the dead flesh on the worst of the wounds, but it is hard to convince anyone that it will help." The mesmer was silent for a moment and then turned to face her, hands clasped together. "Dale, please don't laugh at me me, but when I was a little girl…my mother taught me prayers. I have meditated on it, but it is hard for me. I wonder if you would stay with me while I pray…you steady me and you never doubt me. Maybe I can help them…it’s worth a try.”

“I would do anything to help.”

“I know you would.” Daneska’s laugh was softly mocking. Dale found herself grinning at the gentle taunt. The mesmer sat on a simple wicker chair and Dale settled next to her on the ground, back to the wattle and daub wall. Arn groaned on his cot, Dale watched Daneska get up and say a few words to him; he was trying to scratch at the raw wounds on his arms and belly and the mesmer was chiding him for it. There was a blanket over his legs, but judging by how little he moved and how much sweat dripped from his body, she did not want to imagine what may be wrong.

“Dani…still here….” Arn hissed. “Gods it itches like hell…”

“Just don’t give in to it…I’ll keep the flies off.” She ran a hand through his thick black hair and then used a rag to wipe the sweat off of his face. “It’s your feet I worry about…you should not have walked…”

“And let them leave me like they did Dale?” Arn rasped. “Food for whatever came along.”

“Actually…Dale is here.”

“Your humor has always been off…always horrible humor mesmers have…it’s always the mental ones…mental.” Arn sighed. “Unless you mean I am that close to the mists…”

Dale approached the cot and knelt next to him, taking his hand. The warrior inclined his head to look at her and a grim smile came to his lips.

“You look like an angel. That’s what I thought when you came in the cabin. Like a little boy angel. Too pretty to be real. I was of course right, I just did not know how I was right.” Arn nodded at her as if to inform her of a secret. “So my feet are rotting off…Daneska brought in some mint and sage to cover the smell, but I have been in enough wars to know the odor of gangrene.”

“Daneska thinks she can help…”

“Yes…she prayed all night long. A mesmer…praying to Dwayna…sweet lady that she is.”

“I’m sorry, I thought you were asleep.” Daneska said apologetically.

“Frankly sleep holds little comfort for me. I’ll be sleeping for good soon enough. It is good to hear prayers at such a time. It is a pity Kail is not here; he would have had a trite speech about futility.”

“He’d save you first.” Dale responded. “I wish he was here too.”

“After the speech he would heal me. Where do you think I get my wit? We traveled a lot together as lads. Poor Kail, no doubt his rigid ethics will get him in no end of trouble on a pirate ship.”

“He’s such a good monk I doubt they’ll lay a hand on him.” Daneska soothed.

“Perhaps, but a more stubborn man you’ll never find.” Arn sneaked in an itch to the burned weal on his stomach; Daneska slapped his hand way.

“Impertinent.”

“Guilty.” Arn laughed jaggedly. “Pray more if you want. Miracles…I warrant, are not entirely the province of priests if Dale is any evidence.”

Daneska pulled the chair closer to Arn and held the warrior’s hand on her lap. Dale returned to her place on the floor and listened to Daneska chanting; she had a beautiful voice. In the courtyard cicadas and crickets whirred in counterpoint to her song. It was not long before her head nodded and she laid her cheek against Daneska’s hip, dozing like a little child listening to a sweet lullaby.

“Dale.” The mesmer shook her shoulder and Dale automatically stretched and snapped to wakefulness like a cat. “Look! Look…!”

Dale crawled to the cot to where Arn slept. His powerful arms were crossed over his chest and there was not a mark upon them. Daneska peeled away the blanket to reveal his feet whole and untouched. The mesmer giggled and then broke into tears. “Oh but I did it…I doubted what my mother taught me….”

Dale found herself hugging Daneska, who was beside herself with an odd mixture of grief and jubilation. “You did good…he looks all healed…it’s wonderful! Amazing!”

“She used to weave tapestries, great beautiful things that hung in the hall. She would move the shuttle and sing the holy songs…I remember them from when I was just out of diapers and I would sleep among the skeins of yarn. She tried so hard to make me just like her, but I was gifted in other ways and I was always angry at her for making me attend the temple. Oh momma…I think somehow she just forgave me! I was never able to heal, even though I knew all the words.”

Arn groaned and turned over in his sleep. A loud and steady snore rose from him. Though in camp the nasal racket had always annoyed Dale, the very ordinariness of it was welcome. It meant that Arn was feeling quite normal; he could sleep through a storm and probably didn’t even know Daneska was crying over him.

“What about Demen?”

“Do you think I can?”

"Yes, of course I do."

Daneska took the few steps to where the warrior lay on the brink of death. Dale knew that the mesmer had all but given up on him, choosing instead to lavish attention on Arn. The infection was far worse and the burns more extensive. Again Dale marveled at the endurance of the warriors; they seemed so impervious to insults that would immediately fell lesser people. Daneska put a hand on his face and spoke some of the words. Dale had seen Kale do the same thing so many times but could see the concentration that Daneska had to exert - it was not easy for her. At last the burns melted under her hand and a faint bluish glow suffused them. Demen coughed suddenly, lurched and sucked in a huge breath of air.

Daneska put her hands over her mouth and stepped back when the warrior began to scream. He struck out blindly with a huge fist, trying to rise, the burns on his body oozing hideously as the exertion split them open.

“No, keep up your prayers! He just woke up, that’s all.” Dale said. “Don’t stop.”

“Dale?” Demen stopped stuggling to listen, his eyes unfocused. This was the chance Daneska took; she laid hands back on him and resumed praying. Dale reached in and took his unburned wrist.

“Yes, I’m here. Let Daneska heal you and calm down.”

“You were dead though…I carried you off of the boat…Heb was crying.”

“No.” She squeezed his hand, her mind racing at the thought of Hebek crying over anything. Probably the warrior had imagined it. Another surge of blue energy outlined Demen’s panting form and wounds began to knit, blood and discharge drying on his dusky skin. The warrior blinked and met Dale’s eyes. He squeezed her hand and held it up like a prize.

“You are the bravest person I ever met.”

“Me?” Dale chuckled at the warrior, feeling a blush in her cheeks. She hardly felt brave…she ran from everything, at least that was how she felt most days.

“You volunteered to be a necromancer’s plaything. You’ve seen what she does with corpses. Why do you think no one else wanted to?” Demen dropped her hand and bear hugged her around the shoulders until she made a squeaking noise. He loosened his grip only slightly, enveloping her affectionately for a long while, shaking her playfully in his arms.

“Gods and I am glad you did not pay for it. I thought I would die and have to explain to Balthazar why a tiny woman was braver than me. It would not weigh well on the scales. I fear nothing, but in the dark on that boat…I feared death. At least now I can find a way to make up for my cowardice.”

“There’s nothing to atone for.” Dale said. “I chose it.”

“I’ll never insult you again. I’m sorry I ever said the things I did…and thank you Daneska. Both of you…when I was laying there I heard you praying in the night, Dani. I see that it was love that kept you here. I don’t know what I did to deserve it, because I have been cruel…Heb and I both were. There is no coin that could buy hearts so noble.”