Note: Part 6 was originally published in this chapter, but this is the real chapter five. Sorry for any confusion!

Within a few minutes, Plato had forced her back up onto her horse and they moved onward. It was torture for poor Aune, who was infinitely sore from their earlier ride. At some point, Plato snapped at her.

"Well, I certainly hope you adjust quickly because we ride much farther than we're going to today. This is only a little jaunt in my world, and you now live the same way I do." This remark stung Aune and only worked to infuriate her. Angrily she twisted the metal cuffs around her wrists. They chafed her where they touched and she wished dearly that they could come off.

It felt like years later (but judging by the sun, it had only been a few hours) when they first passed a farmer with a wagon full of hay.

"How much farther to North Soanaff?" Plato called out to him. It wasn the first time Plato had spoken since the incident in the woods. The farmer tipped his hat in greeting and called back "Ain't much further sir, jus' a few miles up thataway." He pointed up the road in the direction they were heading. "Have a good day, now." He chirruped to his horses and they moved on.

It doesn't feel like "a few miles". Aune thought grumpily. But they reached the border of North Soanaff. She was weak with relief at the very thought of getting off her horse.

"It'll be dark soon." Plato called back to her. "We're going to find a place to sleep and eat and we'll get our supplies tonight." Aune nodded. She couldn't find the strength to respond with words.

A few minutes later, Plato stopped next to a rather large building with sounds of badinage coming from inside. "Stay nearby." He muttered. "I don't want you running off." Hefting a small pack that Aune had not noticed before, he tethered his horse to a pole with a complicated knot. Grabbing the rope on Aune's horse, he did the same for her. Then, unexpectedly, he helped her off her horse. Aune blinked, not believing it. She glanced at him and he glared back at her.

"I'm not making this a habit, I'm just doing this so you don't embarrass me." With that, he turned around and headed inside. Annoyed again, Aune and followed Plato in. As she did so, she noticed a sign on the wall showing the name of the building:

The Enchanted Nightingale Tavern and Inn.

Inside, Aune could tell right away that it was more tavern than inn. Round tables filled most of the room, with a bar in the far back. Uncomfortable, she slid quickly and silently in Plato's footsteps.

He, on the other hand, seemed confident, and it irked her. He stopped at the bar (which seemed to serve as a desk and a bar) and it took him but a moment to rent two rooms. Instead of going to find their room, he turned and beckoned Aune.

"We'll go get our supplies. Then I'll get us some supper." He grunted. Aune sighed. "Alright."

Later, after Aune had acquired a few pairs of leather pants, several simple shirts, tall leather boots (these were the hardest to get without letting Plato see the knives), and a thick woolen jacket, they returned to the inn. Aune hadn't realized how hungry she was until she smelled the thick stew that the tavern's cook was making. She hadn't had anything since her meager breakfast in her room. How long ago that seemed already!

The cook thrust a bowl of soup at Aune and she gratefully took it, thanking him. Plato merely grunted in reply. The cook grinned at her. "You're welcome." As Plato left, the cook hissed "Watch your back around him, girl." Aune spun around, surprised, but the cook had already turned away.

Her heart pounding, Aune went over to Plato. He was holding a keg of beer and his stew was half gone.

"Finish your stew." he growled "Then I'll take you upstairs. I've got business to do and you wouldn't help me." Aune stared back at him, tired of his commanding ways and tone.

"I'm not your slave."

Plato ignored her, but she could sense his annoyance. Silently she finished off her stew. It was filled with beef and various vegetables, delicious after a day of riding. Sighing, she stood up and returned the bowl to the cook, just like Plato had done.

With their packs on their shoulders, Aune and Plato ascended the rickety stairs leading to their rooms. Exhausted and wayworn, Aune looked forward to a long sleep in a soft bed. Her bones ached; the food downstairs had done little to sooth her poor body. But when Plato opened the two doors, her heart sank. The rooms were both furnished with a small, hard cot and a chamber pot. A grimy window sat on the wall, blocking out more light than it let in.

"Better get used to it, princess." Plato said mockingly. "This is better than most of our sleeping conditions on the road." With that, he pushed Aune into the smaller, dirtier room and locked the door. Aune stared up at the ceiling and sat down on the bed. Better a little comfort than none.

Suddenly it struck her how much she was imitating Plato, and how much she was learning from doing so. Aune hated to admit that she was benefitting in any way from him, but she couldn't find a way to overlook it. The many, many books she had read and the pictures she had seen could only do so much. Even the short trips into the city would not expose her to what she needed to know. She could only vaguely remember the nurse telling her not to talk to strangers.

The light was disappearing rapidly, leaving the room bathed in crepuscular light. Bored, Aune pulled off her boots and looked at her knives. They were long and flat, their blades reflecting her image as a mirror.

"Never turn your back to a window you haven't secured." A voice behind her called out. Aune gasped and spun around."And, don't turn your back to a door either." The speaker was a tall, lanky woman with dark skin. Mercury. "That's a nice snickersnee you've got there. Can I see it?"

Aune handed her the blade, handle first. "And never give someone your weapon because they ask you to." Stunned, Aune just stared. Her heart was thumping wildly and, becoming panicked, she took a step back."Who are you?" No sound came out. She tried again. "Who are you?" This time it sounded more confident and sure, though it still contained a tremble.

"Why should I tell you?" The woman had shifted so she had her back against a wall. She leaned against it, obviously at ease. "Why should I trust you with my name?"

For this, Aune had no answer. "I..." She faltered and broke off.

The woman smiled. Her teeth were straight. Something about her teeth told Aune she had money. "You're no threat. You're not from this town. And you're naive. My name's Zahra."

Aune nodded. "I'm Aune."

Zahra stared at her. "I noticed you were with Plato. What are you doing? Have you lost your mind?" Her voice grew steadily more and more agitated. "Do you know who he is?"

Aune, being told for the second time that Plato wasn't who she thought he was, said nothing, but shook her head. Zahra cocked her head at her. "You'd better come with me." She motioned to the window. In a flash, Zahra had leaped from it.

Aune rushed to the window to see if she was alright, only to see her flip in midair and land, catlike, on the ground. "Come down!" Zahra called. Aune shook her head.

"I don't know how."

Zahra sighed, then clambered up the wall, Aune's knife in her belt. She stopped at the window. "Here, take your snickersnee. I've got enough of them." Aune slid it into her sheath and the sheath into her boot.

"Sit here." Zahra commanded. Aune obeyed.

"Put your foot here and your hand here. Now, move your other foot down to here. Don't be afraid, you don't have much room to fall." Nervously, Aune gripped the window sill and guided her left foot down to a small ledge left by the uneven bricks. But as Aune scrambled down, she became more confident and ready. "Now put your foot..." Zahra broke off, seeing that Aune had predicted the next step already. "You're good, now. I'll leave it to you to come down." Zahra leapt off, landing without a thud. Aune watched, then tried it too. She pushed off the second floor wall, hitting the ground with a jolt that hurt her already aching legs.

Zahra caught her. "Easy, now. You're not quite ready for that yet."

Aune groaned. "How do you land so... so..."

"Softly?"

"Yes. How do you land so softly?"

"Years of practice and lots of skill. Next time, try loosening your muscles and staying relaxed as you're falling. It's hard, but you've got it in you." Aune nodded. Zahra stepped forward into the street. Aune followed close behind. The Enchanted Nightingale faded quickly behind them. The night was pitch black, with only the lights from the windows and the occasional lantern going past to light the way, but Zahra moved quickly through the streets.

"Here." She stopped at an open doorway. Light and laughter spilled out of it. "Welcome to the Burning Eagle Tavern." Zahra smiled at Aune. "This is where most of my friends are. Don't trust anyone. It's a shady place, but as long as you're with me, you'll be alright. I've been known to kill a man with my fists." Aune blinked. Why was she here? Why did she follow a complete stranger? But something in her gut told her to trust Zahra. Maybe it was the way she helped her climb down the wall.

Zahra strode into the fray. Heads turned to stare, but most turned away as soon as they recognized Zahra. As Aune trailed in her wake, she could catch snippets of conversations here and there.

"The Blackwolf's got another bounty on his head-"

"Why doesn't she just give up-"

"Prices have been risin'-"

"Can't stand it! I-"

"When will they find him-"

"People say he's hiding in plain sight-"

"Aw, shuddup. Ya don' know th' firs' thing about bein' sober-"

"Utter filth! Andras isn't-"

These brief sentences caught Aune's attention, for no particular reason, but she kept them in her mind to ask Zahra about them later. "Come 'ere." Zahra motioned to an empty table in the back of the room. Before Aune could seat herself, Zahra leaned in.

"Have you heard of who Plato is?"

Aune, nervous, shook her head. "All I know is that he's a traveler and explorer."

Zahra nodded, obviously bothered. "Listen. He isn't that. I know him, even if others don't. I get good money from him, otherwise I wouldn't help a criminal."

Aune flinched. "Criminal?"

"Yup, his real name isn't Plato, and he wears a wig. I have to do business with him all the time. Have you heard of Count Rohan's death?"

It triggered a memory in Aune's mind: her nurse forcing her to dress in an ugly, lacey black dress.

"It's only appropriate. You have to wear black when an important person like his honor the Count Rohan dies."

"Yes. I remember."

"That wasn't a regular death. Plato murdered him. But the Count was supposed to have the best protection in all the world, so they didn't tell the public that he killed him. But word got out, and the Blackwolf have been trying to find him ever since."

"Who are the Blackwolf?"

"More like what is the Blackwolf. It's a rogue organization that catches, robs, and executes criminals, then demands money from the government. The bounties they put out aren't real. You just get a lot of junk from them. And you still have to tell me how you came to be with him."

Aune sighed. "You're right. I am not from around here, as you guessed, I was actually raised as a royal daughter..."

In the course of ten minutes, Aune told her story, bit by little bit. Zahra listened, every once in awhile staring shocked at Aune (How could they! What? Are you serious!). She finished with a deep breath. "That's when you found me."

Zahra shook her head. "Girl, you've got a long, hard way ahead of you..." She broke off. "Oh, cow dung. We've got company."

Aune glanced up at the door.

Plato stood there with his arms crossed, staring right back at her.