Bruised gray and purple clouds gathered as the trio slipped across the east-west highway and paralleled a dirt track that shunted off to the north. Ghomarck dismissed the idea of using the path itself, citing the need to avoid watchers.

Mild curiosity stirred Séa. "Who's watching?"

"Well, I don't—" Ghomarck gestured aimlessly. "Conspirators in this kidnapping. Possibly."

Séa's romantic instincts flared up. "Maybe some gnomes? Wearing telescopes over their eyes?"

With gnarled fingers the wizard massaged his forehead. "Lady Séa, I don't know who and I don't know whether. I am merely being cautious, as seems merited by the situation."

Séa glanced right and left. Only conical evergreens populated her vision. "So ... nobody's watching, but we have to hide anyway?"

"It's all right, Séa," Tash said from behind her. "Let's let him be paranoid. We don't know enough to contradict him. I mean, I'd guess politics before religion, but if a god arranged this and the god needs spies, who am I to argue?"

"If there are spies, I hope they're gnomes with telescope eyes."

A splutter of amusement erupted behind Séa. Tash said, "I didn't know paladins were so goofy. Personally, I'm not sure about the gnomes, either. Kneecap wasn't face-to-face with them. There's room for doubt."

Séa might have continued to query them (what else was there to do, beside talk?) but an undulating line of butterflies painted an orange filament across their path. Filled with bright flashes of beating wings, the kaleidoscope flowed through the trees like weightless liquid. The sight drew a sigh of appreciation from her. Danger and beauty. This journey has both. "All right," she said.

Forging their own trail cost them in time and loose pine needles that burrowed into their armor and needled their way under the skin. The horses, too, grew less and less willing to climb and descend steep, rocky slopes. But before equine rebellion set in, and with plenty of daylight left to see by, they glimpsed black stonework through the conifers. They had arrived. Saddles came off the horses and bags of oats went in, after which all was forgiven. The humans, too, wolfed trail rations and rubbed at sore backs.

By chance, or, perhaps, by Ghomarck's design, they occupied high ground. Through gaps in foreground trees, they could chart out the elementary but daunting fortifications. Four tall walls enclosed a yard. Buildings might stand in the yard, but only a bird could directly see them. The tops of the walls bristled with dozens of war engines. A deep but dry moat surrounded the walls on all four sides. All plant life had been burned away from the jumbled, rocky terrain in which Buzzard keep squatted. The upward thrusting tongue of the drawbridge largely obscured the iron bars of the gate.

Sinuous green tendrils waved languidly in the bottom of the yawning circular ditch. "The moat bottom's alive," Séa said. She then returned to chewing her lower lip.

Tash hummed agreement. "Vines that wait to wrap us up and digest us."

"But we have a wizard." Séa shot a grin at Ghomarck. "So, what's the plan, master? We gonna fly? Teleport? Turn ethereal?" Her eyebrows shot up. "Oh, maybe blow holes in the wall with massive fireballs!"

The wizard gritted his teeth and hunched his shoulders.

The rogue waggled a thumb at Ghomarck and her lips slid into a cynical leer. "Any moment now. Just watch."

The graybeard held up his hands. "Please. I do not have such godlike abilities. I propose to gather more information before crafting a suitable scheme to infiltrate the keep."

Tash and Séa folded their arms and observed as Ghomarck dug a glassy sphere from his many ingredient pouches. He sprinkled a greenish dust over the orb, then chanted a rhyme in a tongue unknown to Séa. The sphere flared with light, but then the glow floated free of the object. While the wizard held the glass ball to his head, the glow floated upward. The ball of light resembled a disembodied eye, with a purple iris that roved.

"Oo, wizardry," Séa cooed.

Tash shot a dubious glance at the floating eye, then Séa, then around the landscape. Looking for spies, perhaps.

Like a bubble rising in thick syrup, the illusory eye floated higher. At a snail's pace it arced away toward the castle. Gradually, it shrank to a pinpoint. Séa's eyes wandered. Her eager expression cooled to one of patient bemusement.

Time passed.

The rogue yawned, folded her legs, and sank to the ground. She scooted a few inches closer to a nearby pine tree branch and reclined against it.

Cool breezes caressed Séa's cheek. From the upper airs, a hawk gave its piercing cry. Tash's lids drooped over her brown irises. Brown with flecks of purple, thought Séa.

Ghomarck intoned, "I see a pile of sticks in the courtyard, large enough to cover a carriage. Those that man the walls are not gnomes. They wear black plate armor." He returned to his mutters and mumbles. The soothing vocalizations blended with the whispers of wind through pine needles. As minutes ticked past, Tash's eyelids closed. Her relaxed lips parted. Séa found the sight hypnotic.

The vivid scar that ran from temple to cheek had smaller cousins, lesser in comparison but still telling of a long and violent history. Perhaps the rogue's contradictory mixture of secrecy and bravado was shaped by years of danger and peril. Lying and cheating might be mechanisms this oft-slashed woman used to survive. Danger and beauty. She is both.

Ghomarck blew air into his cheeks. His shoulders sagged. "All done."

"I think Tash fell asleep." The rogue did not stir at the paladin's words.

"Wake her, please. We should discuss the situation."

Séa gripped the sleeping Tash's shoulder. The rogue's eyes popped open, with pupils wide. Faster than the eye could follow, she slapped at her thigh and a dagger appeared in her hand.

"Whoa." Séa's eyebrows rose as the blade wavered by her face.

"Oh, it's just you." Tash's chest rose and fell. She slid her dagger back into its sheath.

"It's me. You all right?"

"Of course." Face reddening, the rogue curled up and rolled to her feet. "So what's the word on the great plan?"

Séa counted Tash's scars anew as the rogue studiously avoided eye contact. "The plan is, currently, to wake you up." Her lips curved upwards. "My guess is, because that's all the plan we've got at the moment."

Tash's eyebrows rose. Ghomarck stood nearby and regarded them meekly, a gray-whiskered portrait of contrition. Séa cracked a grin.

"Did you learn anything?" Tash asked the wizard.

"Why, yes! Just nothing encouraging. The castle is manned by mercenaries in full armor, too many to fight. I never saw a gnome. If we try to burn our way through the vines, we'll be slain in short order. We can't fly, and we can't burrow." Ghomarck spread his hands, palms up, and blew a steady, melancholy stream of air through his mustache.

With saucy swings of her hips, Tash crossed to the wizard's side and threw an arm over his shoulders. Milking her words for effect, she said, "So you didn't spot the escape tunnel, then?"

Silence stretched as Ghomarck's eyebrows danced like caffeinated caterpillars.

Eventually, Séa said, "He means 'no.'"

"I see." Tash wagged her head in a ponderous affirmative.

The wizard found his tongue. "What do you know and how do you know it? Have you been here, before?"

Tash dropped her posing. "Yes, I've been here before. For a time, I travelled with a small band of what you might call treasure hunters. This was a regular camping spot for them, but back then the place was a ruin. We needed ropes to climb down and out of the moat, which at that time contained only rocks and a few puddles. It was safe from wolves, at least."

Séa's eyes widened as curiosity burned within her. "Was Pogrosh the Oily in your group?"

"No. That came after. And don't distract me. When we explored Buzzard Keep, we found out it sits atop a whole maze of tunnels and delvings. Old dwarvish work, I reckon."

Séa said, "Oo! And the dwarves made a back door?"

"They did, and we discovered it. After that, we didn't climb down and out of the moat anymore. We just used the escape tunnel."

"Great! What're we waiting for? Let's go!" Séa glanced from face to face expectantly.

"Perhaps." Ghomarck stroked his beard.

"I'm not sure I want to, either," Tash said. "If gnomes were here, rebuilding, there's no way they missed the back door."

Séa said. "So?"

"So: traps." The right half of Tash's face scrunched. "Gnomish traps."

Séa assured her, "I'll go first, then. Whatever gets triggered, I'll take the first hit. It's what armor's for."

The rogue said, "You are utterly barking."

Séa was unimpressed. "Yes, we've established that. Well? We came here to rescue the princess, so let's get to it."

"We must be very cautious," Ghomarck said.

Tash wiggled her fingers, then cracked her knuckles. "Honestly, I feel frisky. I think I'm up for the challenge. Wizard, can you provide that magelight for a good, long while?"

"Yes."

"Good. We'll need light." Tash sent a sly glance to Séa. "A gnome builds a trap like a succubus perfumes her nipples."

"Perfumes her nipples?" Séa blurted. "Father Kay never mentioned ..." She trailed off as heat flowed up her neck and spread over her face. "Sorry. Off topic. Let's find this not-so-secret secret route."