The rain continued for a few more hours. By the time it stopped, Clay felt like his injuries had already healed a little.

His ribs still ached, and his head swam when he turned too quickly, but it was obvious many of the aches and pains were fading. Unfortunately, that gave him more room to notice how distinctly uncomfortable their refuge was.

The stones and timbers of the fallen tower had barely left enough space for both of them to fit inside. There wasn't enough room to stand up; in fact, coming into a crouch made his head brush the unstable roof. It was just as impossible to avoid bumping into Olivia. Even the slightest movement had them brushing against each other in ways he found… distracting. Attempting to find a more reasonable position was not rewarded. Small pieces of rubble were scattered around on the ground, occasionally digging into him as he shifted.

Worse than the close quarters, however, was the damp. The rain outside had built to something of a steady downpour, and their hiding place was anything but waterproof. Drips of water filtered down through the dirt and the soot, making rest relatively uncomfortable. If it wasn't for [Chants] like Pure Touch and Spring's Sun, they'd have been damp, dirty, and near despair before the end of the first hour.

By the time night fell outside, Clay already felt certain that he could at least walk, even if he wasn't confident about a fight. Not that he was planning on fighting a team of murderous adventurers on his own, but it would have been nice to at least put up some resistance.

Olivia had kept a watch, peering through the gaps in the ruins, and he soon joined her. There was no sign of the enemy out there in the dark, but Clay didn't think he would trust them to give up so easily. Not when they had already gone so far.

"We need food." Olivia glanced at him as the clouds rumbled overhead. A pale mist had settled over the hills, thicker in the spaces between the hills than on top. It meant that the rain had finally gone, but that was a fragile comfort compared to the hollowness of their stomachs.

Clay grimaced. "We can't exactly go back to camp. I'm sure those assassins are still out there."

She nodded. "You're right. If they haven't already taken our supplies for themselves, they'll use it for a trap of some kind." Her gaze turned to the north. "Do you think we can reach Janburg? I don't think that they would attack the village. Not with so many witnesses."

He shook his head. "Can we risk it? They've already attacked the Baroness. If they know that I'm there…"

"We could sneak across the river at least. Put them behind us enough that we can forage." Olivia gave him a grim smile. "I'd bet you can still hunt fairly well, at least."

Clay nodded. "I should be able to, yeah. Well enough so we can eat at least." He patted his ribs and grimaced. "Don't know if I should go swimming, though. Even if we bothered to take off my armor."

Olivia shook her head. "We'll just use Floating Step. I assume that works on water, right?"

"I… don't know." He gave her a crooked grin. "I guess now is as good a time as any to find out."

She watched as he started to crawl towards the opening. "You're going now?"

He looked back at her. "We both are. They might still be looking, but we have a better chance of making the river with the darkness and this fog. As long as we are quick and quiet, of course."

For a moment, she looked like she wanted to argue. Then she crawled after him, as they left their temporary shelter behind and went out into the chilly night air.

At the very least, they made very good time heading north. Tired, hungry, and moderately injured as they were, it should have been a far less pleasant journey, especially adding in the clinging fog, the still-damp mud, and the darkness of the night around them.

At the same time, they were on their way back to safety, and despite the hunger and the pain, they had survived. It was hard to look at their continued survival as a problem.

When they reached the river, Olivia volunteered to be the first one to try Floating Step. Clay watched as she recited the [Chant] and then stepped out onto the water. To his shock, she hovered there, without even disturbing the flow of water beneath her. She did, however, start to drift downstream, even as she turned to give him a smug look.

He rolled his eyes and completed the [Chant] to follow her. At least they'd be on the safe side of the river for the night.

"I thought we weren't going to go into Janburg?" Olivia squinted through the dark at the torches of the [Guards] atop Janburg's wall. They had made their way back along the riverside until they reached the spot outside the village.

Clay nodded. "We aren't. I just want to make sure the others got away clean." He paused long enough to complete the [Chant] for Distant Whispers, focusing on Mitchell. The [Guard] would have had the best chance to get back home safely, and he'd have the information that Clay wanted to know.

As the spell connected, Clay took a deep breath and focused.

Mitchell, it's Clay. Don't answer immediately, I won't be able to hear you until I do another [Chant]. Both Olivia and I made it to safety, but our supplies are gone. We're on the safe side of the river, outside of the village. Did you and the others reach Janburg, or are you in need of help?

Breaking the [Chant], he began the reversed version. Distant Ear was simple enough that it connected a moment later, and Clay sighed in relief as the [Guard]'s voice came through as clearly as if he stood next to him.

"—good to hear your voice! We are all well, but the village isn't safe. Stay away." Mitchell took a deep breath, keeping his voice low. "The Baroness is still wounded, but recovering well. Lana might need a few more days to heal, but she's stable. Andrew will need some time, too. Poor lad took a wrong step halfway back to town and his ankle snapped. Bad fortune, but such is how things go."

Clay grimaced, but before he could break the [Chant], Mitchell went on in a hurried whisper. "There are adventurers here. Not the other group. They were a pack of [Nobles] led by a man named Leonard. The Council sent them to tell you to go back to Crownsguard and take new orders while he took charge of everything else. They'd only been here an hour before a [Noble] from the King's court arrived, with orders to have you go back to Crownsguard for an audience with King John."

"They were in the middle of arguing when we stumbled in, asking for help. Lana, Andrew, and I were all put under arrest, and the Lady Janburg was told that she was to no longer support you, at the risk of losing her seat here. The adventurer and the duke argued a bit longer, and then both the duke and Sir Leonard went back to Crownsguard for new orders. They left the group of [Nobles] here to watch us and wait for you to come back, so they could grab you too."

Clay successfully managed to avoid using language that Amelia Evergreen would not have approved of. The Council had to have been unhappy with him if they sent Leonard to order him around. There was enough bad blood between them that it might have escalated to a fight when he disobeyed. Maybe that was what the Council had counted on.

The fact that King John was also apparently wanting an audience was not good news either. It told Clay that the King was officially calling his bluff, to some extent. Either that, or the King wanted to make sure that the Commoner Hero didn't continue openly defying him in front of his soldiers. Either way, it was not good news.

Mitchell had gone on as Clay tried to think his way through the dilemma. "In any case, you stay out of Janburg. They probably wouldn't be half as much of a problem as the demons we ran into out in the hills, but fighting them might make things ugly for you, the town, and Lady Janburg." The [Guard] paused. "I think I'll be able to get you a little food and equipment. Look for a wagon on the road in a few minutes. Old Jared will have what you need."

"One last thing, when Lana heard about the [Nobles], she said that there would be help coming. She said you'd need to wait at least three days, and they'd be ready to find you. I don't know what she was talking about, but it had something to do with the village that Leonard went to first when he was looking for you. You might get a bit more from some of the folk here, too. Look for them under the thunderstruck oak on the east road."

There was another pause, and a nervous laugh. "That's all I can think of. Can you talk to me again, so I don't think I'm hearing things in the night?"

Clay broke the [Chant] and completed Distant Whispers again.

You aren't hearing things, Mitchell. Thank you for your help. You've all done well. I'll get you clear soon. Sit tight and heal. We're not done yet.

He broke the [Chant] again and looked at Olivia. "They're safe, but they can't join us. Mitchell is going to send us supplies along the road."

Olivia studied him a moment. "How much trouble are we in, Clay?"

"Honestly? All of it?" He couldn't help but grin. "Let's get some food first, though. Then we can deal with the rest of it in the morning."

Old Jared turned out to be a mildly pleasant drunk [Farmer] who was making his way home with an old pair of mules and a plain cart that was half packed with hard rations, bandages and arrows.

He was also lighting the way for him and his mules with Heart's Light.

Clay was torn between giving Olivia accusing glares and wanting to laugh. The idea of an inebriated [Commoner] using an ancient [Chant] to get home instead of a torch was incredible to him, but it was hard to argue about the man's enthusiastic thanks for both their fight against the Lair and for the 'Codex' that he'd seen in the village. He kept his questions in until the farmer had trundled off down the road again, leaving them with enough food to see them through the next few days.

Then he turned and looked at Olivia, who shrugged. "I've written down the minor ones. The ones any [Commoner] could use. There's a warning to only use the words as expected, and to watch for anyone abusing them. They don't have any of the more powerful spells."

"Only because you didn't think they'd be able to use them." Clay gave her a glare he didn't really feel capable of maintaining. "The Guild is going to be… I don't even know if upset is the right word."

She shrugged. "Let them. These aren't combat spells, at least, not the way most [Commoners] are going to use them. And if they do? Maybe not as many of them will die fighting monsters before adventurers arrive. Maybe more of them will be able to turn the monsters back, the way you did. The way we have."

Then she looked at him. "Do you really disagree? The first thing you wanted to do once you were in the open was teach these spells to others."

"That was before I knew about the Poisoned Wish." He shook his head. "But you're right. There's no danger in the lesser [Chants] being out there. If someone stumbles on a copy of the wrong one, though…"

"Then they are already dead." Surprised, he looked back up at Olivia and found her raising an eyebrow at him. "Even if they've never seen a [Chant] before, the Wish would destroy them anyways. You saw that at Rodcliff, right? Those miners didn't have any idea what they were looking at, and it still killed them."

He blinked. "Actually, yeah. You're right." They walked along in silence as he thought it through once more. "Would we be encouraging more people to search for more spells? Would they stumble across it more often?"

Olivia grinned. "Why would they go looking for more if they have a book full of things they can use right in front of them? Do you think Old Jared is going to be reading books in Old Balois anytime soon?"

The idea wrung a laugh out of him. "Good point." He shook his head, trying to think past his hunger and fatigue. "We can talk about it in the morning. When I'm not quite so ready to fall over."

"Fair enough. You'd need all your strength, anyway." The teasing light in her eyes faded for a moment as she touched his shoulder, as some of her concern surfaced. Then she laughed. "At least we have a tent now. Better than a broken tower, right?"

He nodded, and they walked on into the small forest they'd chosen for their hiding spot. It was time to finish a very long day.

Morning dawned late for Clay.

He was a creature of a farm, where life started early and often before the sun. For the first time in a long while, however, he slept long past sunrise, and woke with the sun already high in the sky. Light was shining against the thin fabric of their tent, with the leaves of the trees making a pattern of shadows across it. Outside, the welcome sound of birdsong filled the air; the undergrowth rustled with squirrels and other creatures going about their business.

None of that mattered, however, because the first thing Clay saw when he opened his eyes was Olivia's sleeping face.

She was still completely asleep. Her hair was a little frizzy and disorganized, with some of it drifting across her face, and her head was on his shoulder. The rest of her was draped across him, curled up to his side like it was an entirely natural thing. A short distance away, the bedroll that she had started the night on was abandoned and empty. Their armor and weapons were piled up at the top of the tent, where they wouldn't have been in the way.

He went stiff immediately. His entire body seemed to be made of aches and pains; his ribs were particularly unhappy with anything beyond simple breathing. Each muscle seemed to cry out for attention or relief. A stretch might have relieved some of it.

Yet at the moment, he barely dared to breathe. She was too beautiful, too warm, too precious to disturb. He could be bleeding out and he'd still hesitate.

There was a rustle of wings outside, and an alarmed squawk as some cursed bird got into trouble. Olivia murmured something too quiet to hear and snuggled a little closer to him. She relaxed a moment later, her breath going steady again. Clay felt himself relax a little, too.

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As much as he could, anyway. Wonderful as she was, his arm was starting to go a bit numb.

Eventually, the pins and needles running up his arm grew a little too uncomfortable, and he shifted just slightly, hoping against all odds that it wouldn't ruin anything.

As if he'd spoken her name, Olivia's eyes opened. They seemed so brilliantly green, and they locked on his for a long moment before realization dawned.

Then she buried her face in his shoulder. Her hand on his chest made a fist in his shirt, and what he could see of her skin flushed a deep red. She muttered something he couldn't quite hear, and he chuckled, trying to ignore the heat working its way across his own face. "What?"

She shifted slightly, peeking at him through her messy nest of hair. "Am I hurting you?"

Her movement had restored feeling to his arm, and even with the spikes of agony crawling down from it, Clay knew there was only one real answer. "Nope."

Olivia's eyes disappeared again as she hid in his shoulder. She felt so tense. He waited until she peeked another time. "Don't tell the Rector."

Clay chuckled again, despite himself. "I think we have bigger problems, Olivia."

She swatted him on the chest and glared at him. There was still no sign that she was going to move away from him. "I mean it, Clay Evergreen. He'll be really unhappy."

He thought about his mother's reaction to the situation and sighed. "All right." Then he smiled. "Are you though?"

Olivia frowned. "What?"

"Unhappy. Are you?"

She stared at him. Then, impossibly, she giggled and hid back away. "No. No, I'm not."

He snorted. His arm tightened around her shoulders, drawing her a little closer. There was a complete lack of resistance. "Good."

They lay there a while longer until she finally sighed. "We need to get up."

Clay stroked her arm for a moment and then grunted. "You're right. I don't like it, but you are."

She laughed quietly. "We'll both get used to that." With clear reluctance, she drew away from him. "I'll get water for breakfast. Will you get the hard rations ready?"

"Sure." He watched as she left the tent, and then lay his head back with another sigh. Then he levered himself up. The morning wouldn't last forever, after all.

"You know, we don't even know what they were."

Clay looked over at Olivia, feeling a sudden spike of concern. He thought he recognized the speculative tone in her voice, and it worried him. "Who?"

Olivia glanced at him from where she'd been studying her list of [Chants]. She'd shared her list with him, of course, but she was trying to make sure her [Memory] was as high as it could go. He was doing likewise, trying to once again master the two he was closest to reaching and trying equally as hard not to irritate his healing wounds. As mornings went, it had been almost peaceful.

Until now, at least.

She glanced at him again. "The assassins. We still don't know who they are, what they can do, or who sent them."

He grimaced. "You're right. We don't."

Olivia fidgeted in place a little. "It seems like it would be really useful to know that information. Especially if we want to know who we can trust going forward."

Clay abandoned the pretense of studying the notes. He looked at her directly. "It's not a good idea. I'm injured, and they are dangerous."

She looked back down at her notes. Someone unfamiliar with her might have thought that she was absorbed in her studies. "I'm just saying. We don't need to fight them, just maybe find them and take a look. Kind of like how we scout the monsters before we strike."

He stared at her with growing exasperation. "Aren't you supposed to be the reasonable one?"

Olivia grinned at him. "That means you should definitely listen to me, then, right?"

Clay glared at her for a moment, trying very hard to deny how much the idea appealed to him. This time, they wouldn't be attacking him out of nowhere, and he wouldn't be exhausted from a full day of fighting. He might be injured, but with all his bonuses…

He blinked and realized that her grin had only grown wider. Then he sighed. "We're never going to be out of trouble, are we?"

Her laugh was all the answer he needed.

An hour or so later, Clay was peering through the hill grass at a group of people that had tried to kill him less than a day before.

They had not been that hard to find. He'd seen the story in the tracks they had left behind. The assassins had been tromping all over the area inside the third ring of towers searching for him and Olivia, and then they had waited outside the old camp for their prey to return. When Clay and Olivia had refused to show, they'd stalked away back to their own camp.

Clay had found the spot a little outside the third ring of towers, well away from any danger posed by the remaining swinefolk. Half-hidden in a patch of hill grass, the assassins had managed to conceal themselves from anyone that had been casually walking past.

They had done a far less effective job of guarding themselves from something that was actively hunting them. Then again, they seemed unused to having to deal with an extended hunt.

"If you had just done your job, we'd already be done here, Pete!"

"I don't have to take that from an [Occultist], you little—"

"Cram it! I think I heard something."

Clay didn't bother trying to hide or anything. The assassins couldn't have found him if they tried. He was nearly four hundred strides away on a nearby hill, using Distant Ear to listen to them. Olivia was next to him, using Hawk's Flight to keep an eye on the situation. If any of the assassins started moving in their direction, or slipped away from camp, then they would withdraw.

As the assassins devolved into yet another bickering argument, Clay released the [Chant] with a sigh. He glanced at Olivia. "Anything interesting for you?"

She looked at him and then winced. He bit his lip to avoid chuckling; looking at close objects with Hawk's Flight still active was… unpleasant. A heartbeat later, her hand over her eyes, she shook her head. "Not beyond what we've already found out."

Clay nodded and let out a slow breath. "So. To summarize." He held up one hand and started ticking off points on his fingers. "They're from Merarbor. They were sent specifically to kill me at any cost, probably by the King of Merarbor. They can't leave without me dead, or they might get killed."

Olivia poked at another of his fingers. "You forgot the part where they are all around the same level, but none are above thirteen. I think that's important."

He tilted his head to look at her. "Why?"

"Because none of them are [Commoners]." When he gestured for her to continue, she grimaced. "It means that none of them can use the Garden's Peace safely."

"Hm." Clay nodded slowly and stuck up another finger. "Most of them don't have what we'd call respectable [Classes]. There're are two [Knaves], two [Occultists], a [Burglar], a [Dark Knight], and an [Alchemist]."

Olivia's expression grew a little troubled. She glanced back down at the camp. "It sounds a little familiar, to be honest. Remember what you found in Crownsguard?"

He frowned. "What do you… wait. You mean the criminals?" She nodded, and Clay thought back through the incident. "The Guild had said that they weren't bothering with cleaning them up because the King hadn't asked them to. They said it was an issue of royal authority."

"Why wouldn't King John want them gone? At their level, his [Guards] could have even taken care of it, if the Guild refused." Her face grew grim. "If he didn't want them gone, he might have been trying to build them up into a team like this one. A group with no connection to the Guild that he could send out on missions like this one."

Clay felt a sudden chill. He wanted to say that John would never have done something like that…but then he thought again. If he had wanted his own team of murderers, and Clay had ruined them… "He was testing me, during the Melee. He wanted to see if I was trying to ruin his plans on purpose, or if it was on accident."

She snorted. "You do seem to make a habit of doing things like that." Olivia looked back down at the camp. "It could be a response to something that the other rulers are doing. Like what happened in Rodcliff, and is happening here. The Guild would refuse to intervene, and if he felt he had no other option…"

"He would." Clay felt a grim certainty settle into his gut. She looked at him with a raised eyebrow, and he forced a smile. "He did fight a little dirty, you know. When he had to."

Olivia smirked. "So did you, as I understand it."

He snorted and turned back to the camp. Reluctantly, he held up another finger. "They've set up magical traps around our old camp, and a few around the bowl. Not inside of it, but close enough that they can tell if someone goes in by the passes. If we go back for our gear, or keep attacking the Lair, they'll try to track us down and kill us. More traps are set up near Janburg. They're hoping we get hungry and tired enough to stumble into one of them."

She nodded, her expression serious again. "Apparently, Merarbor wants the Lair to exist almost as much as he wants you dead. 'Useful as a buffer', right?"

"Their words, not mine." He shook his head. "We should leave and come back another time. They don't want to fight monsters, and we can always destroy the Lair later."

"Can we?" Olivia hesitated, the worry plain on her face. "You've seen the inside of the bowl. It… it doesn't look normal in there anymore. How much longer before it becomes a Dungeon that we can't kill? How much damage would it do here once that happens?"

Clay pictured swinefolk pouring across the hills. He saw them crossing the river, saw Janburg burning, the Baroness dying, just as she'd expected to all these years…

He shook his head. "You're right. We need to continue." His jaw clenched for a moment as he looked down at the assassins. "We still can't attack them directly. We'll need to get past their traps and into the bowl without getting caught. Out, too."

She nodded. "Down over the cliffs?" When Clay nodded, she grinned. "Then there's no time like the present, is there?"

A burst of ice spears took the screecher in the side. It coughed blood and lurched another step forward before it fell. Clay grunted in satisfaction before turning his spear on the other screecher, impaling it through the head before tossing it aside. The body tangled with the limbs of a pair of shriekers, who went down in quick succession shortly afterwards. There was a roar behind him, and Clay turned just in time to see Olivia take the head from a charging crusher before dancing out of the way of a burst of land eater magic that buried itself in the falling corpse.

Clay completed his own [Chant], and the boulder from the Canon took shape above his head. Swinefolk saw it coming and panicked; many of them tried to scatter, making it that much easier for Olivia to carve her way through their ranks. Those that failed, however, died as the stone smashed its way through them in a wave of destruction. One of the shakers was among them, and it slumped to the ground with an arm and half its torso missing.

He grinned despite the pain still tearing through him and struck down another pair of smashers that charged at him. Everything seemed easier in the middle of the fight, from his ability to move to his chances of ignoring the pain from his injuries. Not to say that it was fun exactly, but it was a relief to know that with [Swinebane] helping him, he wasn't entirely useless.

They'd killed the soul eaters in this particular group first, striking them both from ambush. As the rest had turned on them, both he and Olivia had charged into the mass of them, scythe and spear striking out and dealing death as fast as they could.

It had been a mildly unpleasant surprise to find the swinefolk patrolling in groups roughly twice the size as they had used before, but Clay supposed it did make their battles that much more efficient. Of course, they were also that much more dangerous as well, but speed was just as important now.

With that in mind, he forged his way into another knot of swinefolk, killing them even as he started the Melody of Frost. Squealers and smashers died in heartbeats as they pressed in around him, trying to stop his headlong charge. For a moment, he wondered if he'd gotten himself in a bit too deep.

Then fire tore through them, setting all of the monsters on one flank ablaze. He gave Olivia a grateful look even as he completed his own [Chant] and sent half the swinefolk near her slipping and sliding off their own feet. She carved through them with a harsh grin.

The ground rumbled, and Clay spun away from his latest crusher victim, just in time to avoid the ground spike. He looked up at the last remaining shaker, seeing it snarl at him. Clay just gestured for it to come at him, not that he expected it to close the distance. True to form, it lifted its hammer and prepared to send another avalanche of spikes in his direction.

Olivia was there a moment later, slipping in past a pair of dying smashers to hamstring the giant creature. The shaker pivoted and tried to swat her aside, but she dove behind it, rolling and spinning around like a bladed children's toy. Her scythe began carving its way into the shaker's back, and Clay turned his attention to the squealers attempting to capitalize on his distraction. They did not succeed.

The fight was over a few moments later, leaving the forest littered with corpses. Clay leaned on his spear for a moment, feeling his ribs ache.

Olivia ran over to him, her armor spattered with green blood that completely failed to match her eyes. Her expression showed concern. "Are you all right?"

He snorted. "I'm fine. Just still sore is all." Clay stretched, trying to work out a knot of pain in his side. "You got half of them again?"

"Yeah." She seemed conflicted, as if torn between being pleased at her achievement and being worried about him. "Another group like that one, and I'll hit level seven. Are you sure you're going to be able to keep this up?"

Clay laughed harshly, accepting the ache in his torso. "You're asking this now?"

Olivia winced. "I thought you would heal faster with [Swinebane] helping you. Is it not working?"

He shook his head slightly. "I don't think it works that way. Just makes me move faster and hit harder. Pain's still there." Then he grinned. "Are you sure you're not the one getting slow? That last shaker had time to look panicked before you got to it."

She flushed and then raised her chin. "Just you wait. Next time, I'll be fast enough to get all of them."

"Then let's get one more." Clay straightened up and flinched as a stab of pain went through him. "I think that'll be it for me, though. We'll have to come back tomorrow."

Olivia nodded. The concern in her eyes lessened slightly. "All right, one more, and then we go." She glanced back at the corpses around her. "You know, we didn't burn the last group."

He nodded. "We don't want the assassins to know we're here, right? Smoke would give us away."

She frowned. "That's true, I guess. It just seems wrong to leave the bodies for them to eat."

"It's better than having a team of assassins waiting for us outside the bowl." Clay snorted. Then his ethereal senses let him know that another group of monsters was on its way. "Let's get moving. Our pig friends are coming."

Olivia followed him into the forest, her eyes still a little vague, like she was thinking about something else. Clay shook his head. The day had already been long enough without whatever she was planning.

Several agonizing hours later, Clay was once again sitting in their makeshift campsite, eating a soup made of hard rations and heated water. It wasn't the most appetizing thing, but the firelight gave him a warm glow to read by, and the night breeze provided a nice contrast that helped soothe his aches and pains.

The last fight with the swinefolk had gone moderately well. Their exit from the bowl, however, had been a bit more complicated. Climbing out of the bowl by scaling the cliff side would have been difficult under the best of circumstances, but with Clay still suffering from his wounds, they were limited to taking an easier way out. Fortunately, the swinefolk had abandoned the remaining barricades completely, so they had been able to just blow a hole in the southernmost one and walk out that way.

Unfortunately, the assassins appeared to have been far more thorough than he had given them credit for. The moment they had stepped out of the southern pass, Clay had felt an echo of ethereal energy that could only have been a magical alarm. It had been a desperate rush to find a hiding place fast enough to avoid the hunters they knew were coming, and even with his skills, they nearly hadn't made it.

The assassins had arrived barely an hour later, moving through the hill grass and strange trees with determined eyes and furious expressions. Clay had been forced to take a roundabout route to avoid leaving any traces that they could track down, and even then, there had been one or two close calls when their team had gotten close to finding them. What should have been a relaxing, two-hour stroll back to the river had turned into a tense, six-hour game of cat and mouse that had lasted until the sun was low in the sky and the clouds overhead were already turning red. Part of him suspected they had only escaped because the assassins had wanted their own dinner more than anything else.

He looked across the small campsite at Olivia. She seemed even more tired than he was; even with his injuries, he was far more used to stealth, and had a considerable advantage in [Fortitude]. Clay bit his lip as he saw her nodding off slightly in the middle of eating her own soup, one hand on the spoon and the other going over the notes she was using to increase her [Memory]. Her new [Experiences], gained with her seventh level, apparently hadn't helped her stamina very much at all, but he knew that [Scythe Expert] and [Brave] would probably do more than enough tomorrow. She just clearly wanted as much magic as she could get to help out with things.

She wasn't exactly alone in searching for new power, however. Clay looked down at his own notes, the same two spells that had continued to torment him for the past few days. He knew he was close—he'd already gained one {Memory} studying them—he just needed a little more time and effort to make sense of their odd construction.

With a sigh, he set them aside and focused on his meal. They would be heading back to the bowl in the morning, and he wouldn't do anyone any good this way. He downed the last of his soup and stood up. "Are you still eating?"

Olivia startled awake, her movement nearly spilling her bowl. She nodded hurriedly. "Y-yeah. Just got distracted."

"Well, I'm headed to bed. Just make sure you extinguish the campfire before you turn in." She nodded, and her farewell turned into a yawn that she tried to hide behind her hand. Clay shook his head and spent a few moments cleaning out his kit before he ducked into the tent.

He laid out his gear and equipment the same way he had before and then lay down on his bedroll. It took him a few moments to arrange himself comfortably; after that, he stared up at the top of the tent, thinking over the day. Clay glanced over at where Olivia's bedroll lay, and a flash of the morning's memory went through his head.

His cheeks heated immediately, and he had a brief, fierce debate with himself. Then, regretfully, he took some of their extra blankets and made a small dividing barrier between the bedrolls. Amelia and Sam Evergreen had taught him at least that much when it came to propriety, after all.

Then, still arguing with himself over the move, Clay drifted off to sleep, hoping the next day would be just a little easier than this one had been.

The next morning, Clay woke up earlier than before. He felt curiously refreshed, and his aches and bruises felt much, much better. All was right with the world.

He looked over and found Olivia on his shoulder again, her lips pursed in sleep. It took him a moment to find the blankets he'd stacked between them, now piled on the far side of Olivia on her own bedroll.

For a moment, he put his free hand over his eyes and struggled not to laugh. He couldn't tell whether it was from happiness or bafflement. Perhaps it was both. Either way, he managed to stay still and quiet, enjoying the moment before the war for the Lair began again.

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