The hideout is still hours away, even at Gwrtheyrn's pace, and Miris' blessing fades quickly compared to that distance, the underbrush hampering him more and more as they leave his usual hunting grounds for unfamiliar territory.  Only a few things make paths large enough to allow his passage, and it would be best to avoid all of them.

The sky is beginning to lighten by the time they reach the hideout.  Gwrtheyrn's pace has long since slowed to a silent walk, even his mass little more than a rippling shadow amongst the trees.

Here.

I see it.

The fallen tree is just as Clearshot said, its trunk wide enough Auris would have to strain to see over it, and a bed of ferns blankets the ground before it.  Gwrtheyrn stoops his shoulders, and Auris slides from his back.  She regrets taking the time, now, to change before sitting down to tea.  Her clothes feel far too light, and the strap of her shield bites into her shoulder.

Slowly, she steps forward, closer, and closer—the ground crumbles beneath her foot, pebbles clattering, and she stumbles back as Gwrtheyrn darts forward, latching onto his fur for support.  Silence.  She lets out a measured exhalation.

Clearshot meant what they said about not falling in...

Gwrtheyrn nudges her, and she straightens, and brushes the fur on his shoulder back into place.

Sorry.

It's all right, Gwrtheyrn responds.  Be careful.

I'll try.

She nudges the ferns aside this time, revealing the gaping hole beneath them.  Readjusting her shield, and with a breath to steady herself, she half climbs, half slides down, ducking to avoid a face full of ferns.  What little light of predawn might be found above is filtered to nothing, and Auris blinks against the darkness, her eyes only able to adjust so far.  She reaches forward to either side, finding the walls of damp earth and stone, and slowly inches forward.

A wordless query from Gwrtheyrn is soothed, but she adds in a moment, Stay close.

Of course.

A cobweb brushes her arm, and she moves to wipe it away—something jangles in the humid air, and she halts.  There's no response.  Auris squints against the dark, and feels for it, freezing when it sounds again, and smooths her movements further until she's holding something small and metallic suspended from the ceiling.  A bell.  Slowly, she draws her knife, and cuts the string, and crouches to set it on the ground.  Of course, Gash would alarm the place.

She tries to draw on Miris' power to light her way, but finds her nerves too frayed for any subtle sort of working, and abandons the thought, moving instead more slowly still, going around the bells where she finds them rather than taking the time to cut them down.  She winces when she catches one on her shield, but there's still no response, and she continues on.

The path narrows, and she's afraid of a dead-end when her eyes catch something at last, some dim level of light, and there's a wooden creak, and a human groan.  Taking her shield from her back to avoid it scraping on the walls, she sidles through the gap, rocks and roots scraping at her clothes, and abruptly she's free.  The flickering light of a fire reflects on a bend just ahead.  There's a strange scent in the air; something sour.

Auris glances about.  No more bells.  She steps forward—what is this going to do to Valerian?  Having one of the few people he trusts ripped from his side yet again?  And by Auris again, no less.  She forces the thought away.  This is a murderer, or an attempted one, at the very least, with every likelihood of attempting it again.  Anything else comes second to protecting the townsfolk.

She can't tell if it's the humidity she feels against her skin or Miris' power in the air about her.  The fingers of her free hand flex and tense regardless, half consciously drawing the power closer.  Where are you? she asks Gwrtheyrn.

Above you.  There's another hole in the ground.

Can you see anything through it?

Someone has a fire, I think.  There's too many plants in the way, and I can't get too close.  It won't hold my weight.

Auris inhales, and steps around the corner.

A mass of waxy pink leaves meets her, reaching up toward a hole in the ceiling, and she briefly wonders if she caught sight of Gwrtheyrn.  Not what she's here for.  She sidesteps the plant to see Gash sitting by a campfire, blanket wrapped around him, leaning forward to sprinkle something into a cookpot with a hand wrapped in enough bandages to resemble gloves.  He looks up, surprise crossing his face, though it's quickly schooled away.  "Wasn' 'spectin' you here, 'specially at this hour o' the night."  A beat.  "Day?  'S it morning yet?"  He squints toward the plant, and shrugs.  "Ye hungry?  Ah think ah've got a second bowl somewhere around 'ere."

It all comes rushing back.  "How can you—"  How can you act so casually when you tried to murder Asa!  "You know why I'm here," Auris says instead, her expression cold.

Gash raises an eyebrow, watching her impassively.  "No, actually, ah really don't.  Ye get impatient 'bout me taking a day in the woods a'fore heading in t' face the other or something?"

"Gash," Auris says, stepping forward to be just a few feet from him, "you are under arrest for the assault and attempted murder of Asa.  Will you come peacefully?"

Gash sighs, picking up a spoon to stir his stew.  It seems to be the source of the sour scent, layered with more savory flavors.  "Ye really sure ye want t' arrest me on...whate'er suspicion's driving ye here?"

"I wouldn't be here if I wasn't.  Will you come peacefully?"

"An' then what, huh?"  He prods disinterestedly at a chunk of meat with the spoon.  "Ye toss me in jail while trying t' find some sorta proof in this theory ye got, lettin' the shitstain have their way wi' me if'n they're pissed that ah can't give 'em what they want?"

An idea strikes her, Miris' power tingling at her fingertips.  "Would you like to clear your name now, beyond any doubt?"

Gash raises an eyebrow.  "What would ya propose fer doin' that?"

"I'll ask Miris to ensure you speak the truth."

He shakes his head slowly.  "No mind wizardin' fer me.  Never liked it, ne'er will.  Ah'll convince ye in other ways, if'n it's all the same t' ye."

Auris releases the power with a breath, and reaches her free hand behind her back, producing from her belt the shackles that she took from headquarters.  "Then you will convince me from behind bars."

Gash pauses, then reaches for a bowl next to him, ladling some of the stew into it.  "'Member the first condition, Auris?  Planning on keepin' that promise o' yers?"  He nudges the pot towards the hotter part of the fire.

Auris purses her lips.  "My word is good, Gash."

Just for a moment, the impassive expression flickers before settling back into place, the barb in her words catching.  "So the pair o' idjits're safe, then?  Far enough outta town that this plan o' yers won't doom Val if'n e'rything goes to shit?"

"They'll be safe."

Gash furrows his eyebrows, setting down the bowl of stew and turning to face her fully, his seat creaking with the movement.  "That's an evasion, not an answer.  Are they far 'nuff away that the shitstain won't be able t' pull mind wizardin' on Val?"

"They won't have the chance," Auris says through gritted teeth.  "The only saving grace of your blunder is that you have overridden the effects of your first."

Gash narrows his eyes, looking at Auris with brow still furrowed.  "Explain."

"Due to forces beyond your control, you shall not be able to fulfill your end of the deal.  I will explain as much to the other, such that they might not...lose faith in your word."  Her control is only slipping further, her words infused with venom, and she fights to reassert it.

Gash merely raises an eyebrow, and picks up the bowl of stew, settling back on his stool.  "Don't get me wrong," he says around a bite, and swallows, "m' good word's important to me, but knowin' that it won't end in Val getting mind wizarded into doing anything 'cause the other's pissed at me is what ah'm more concerned about, so ah'll ask ye again."  He takes another bite, chewing it slowly, deliberately, never breaking eye contact.  "Is Val far enough away to be safe?"  A pause.  Then, "I don't care where 'e is, ah probably ought not t' know, but the distance matters.  You know that."

Auris' anger has cooled, though it's far from gone.  "You've done a better job of things than the other could ever hope to do.  You will not have a chance to fulfill the deal, and Valerian will be gone by the time the other knows it."

Gash nods vaguely, and continues eating.  "What's your evidence, anyhow?"

"Come.  I'll show you."

"Ah think ah'd rather stay here, if'n it's all the same to you.  Bit dangerous walkin' around in the jungle at night, ain't it?"

"Conviction comes after arrest, not the other way around.  You will come peacefully, or I will take you by force.  Your choice."

"Ye sure ah can't offer ya goodberry stew?  'S good, ah promise."

"I would've suggested the other option."  She steps forward, slinging her shield over her shoulder as Gash laughs a single, dry syllable, ducking back only a token amount as she catches him by the shoulder.

"Figured ye'd be impatient.  At least let me put on m' boots an' coat, all right?  Ah'd rather no' go wandering through the jungle on m' bare feet."

Auris hesitates, then steps back and gives him a curt nod.

Gash struggles with his boots, his hands bandaged the way they are, and grimaces as he pulls on his still-damp coat.  He glances to the plant.  "Take care o' the place, Fronds."  It's quiet enough Auris isn't sure she was meant to overhear.  He pauses, glancing at her, and slowly crouches by the fire.

"What are you doing?"

He takes up the spoon again, using it to pull the cookpot from the fire.  "Wouldn't want the jungle to burn down," he says.  "Again."

Auris narrows her eyes.  "I'll get it," she says.

Gash gives a slow shrug, but steps away from the fire.  "As ye please."

"Your hands."  She holds the manacles at the ready.

"I'm injured."

Auris reaches forward anyway, taking his right wrist and locking a manacle around it, and he hisses in pain.

"Careful!"

Auris frowns, unconvinced he isn't faking it, but is gentler with his left.  Ensuring the manacles are secure, she retrieves the pot of stew, giving it a sniff.  The sour scent must be the berries.  Her stomach grumbles.  She quickly draws back, pouring the remnants over the fire, dousing half of it with a hiss.  She kicks the rest of the wood apart, flames dying away to embers—Khalini, preserve my mind.  She whirls back to Gash, but with only the predawn light filtering through the pink-leafed plant, he's faded into the shadows like he's done too many times before.

A clink of metal.  "Prakāśaḥ!" she cries, leaping toward the noise as Miris' power surges through her, catching only the edge of his coat as he dodges aside, a pale glow washing across him as her command for light takes shape.

He's across the room in a moment, ducking behind a corner she hadn't noticed, and she takes off after him, quickly having to duck a lower ceiling as he lengthens his lead, vanishing around another bend—she's yanked to a halt, her shield caught between the walls, and she tears its strap free of her belt, stumbling and continuing on—the path splits.  Where—the glow.  She spins toward it, and yelps when she catches her hand on the wall, and the glow flickers, and vanishes.

"Khalini, take him," she curses.

I see him!  An image of a ravine, a glow at its base—Auris wavers, her vision all but taken over by the image.  An apology from Gwrtheyrn as she rights herself and hurries onward—and pulls up short as the path turns, and falls away.  Cliff.  The barest light of dawn is indulgent to her eyes now as she stoops low, swinging herself over the edge, clambering down at a reckless pace.  Her fingers slip.  She pushes herself away, dropping the last several feet and landing hard in a crouch, grunting at the impact.  And there's the glow just ahead, nearly to the trees.

She rises, ignoring her legs' protests, flinging one hand out to Gash, pulling Miris' energy with it.  "Niyaccha!"  Halt!  A bolt of red light streaks through the air, glancing his shoulder.  He catches himself, barely, and hurries on.

Finally within sight of each other, Auris and Gwrtheyrn's minds are as one, Gwrtheyrn pacing them above in his great, bounding strides, Auris pulling Miris' power through with another cry, sending another bolt streaking forward, and it strikes true, crashing into Gash's back, and he tumbles forward, and collapses to the ground just as the glow fades to nothing from his coat.