"It is fine," she spoke sternly, "and it would be better if you would stop bringing up the subject."

S'Kylir sipped her tea slowly and allowed herself to settle back into the plush cushion she had chosen. It did indeed contain a trace amount of nightshade. Her long index finger traced the lip of the simple porcelain tea cup and she stared into the steam that flowed and curled upward. All around them the big cats and tourists chatted and laughed at their own booths separated by dividers of bamboo and paper and silk. A handful of fires burned at the end of the tavern where the cooks prepared food. They were enough to keep both levels of the inn warm. Soon they wouldn't be needed. Spring had already taken hold in the south and would spread north to the Kamal borders quickly. The residents here could already feel it coming. When it did she and Septimus would have to start taking bounties on criminals and innocent runaways and cleaning up old racial grudges for a living. If they survived the end of another winter. 

"Septimus," S'Kylir finally broke the silence, "What were you thinking?"

He looked at her, his right eye-bone raising in query. "Thinking with what, S'kylir?"

"Inviting that girl to come with us," she said, "You know nothing of her or what she's capable of or where her loyalties lay. She may well be a liablility."

"To be completely fair, S'kylir. You are calling the kettle black when you are a pot. You did the very same with me."

"I trust my instincts. Aside from that I knew I could kill you should I need to."

"And you do not trust mine? I know the very same about the girl. She will be fine, or we will kill her."

"It seems we're in agreement," she hummed happily and sipped her tea again.

Outside the sun was starting to glow a deep warm orange as it neared the horizon. S'Kylir finished her tea and cleared her throat, "Please excuse me. There's something I need to attend to. I should return shortly after sunset. Don't feel like you need to wait up for me."

She rose from the low table and stepped down off the ledge it was set on. Before leaving the tavern she asked a Ka-po-tun woman at the bar if she could buy some nightshade. With the dark, violet, pressed flowers in hand she left quietly. It was still just as busy outside on the main street, but she slipped through the crowds without a fuss. It took some time before she had wound her way through the small buildings and houses and market stalls to a part of town that was far quieter. A resident strolled by here and there, many smoking through very long straight pipes inb which burned a sweet smelling weed the tigers were very fond of. All of them were bundled against the coming cold of night. S'Kylir soon found her way to the edge of the town and into the trees. There was a clearing here where she could see the horizon and be left in peace.

Here she cleared a spot in the snow and sat in silence and watched the sunset. She prayed. The breeze and the cold swept past her and bit her, but she remained perfectly still clearing her mind, thinking on her mantras and listening. With a small amount of kindling in her tinderbox she started a tiny flame in the pit she had made. It was in this fire she set the nightshade flowers alight. They burst into indigo light and flared brightly. Black smoke wound up out of the fire. While they burned themselves out in the red dusk against she prayed and meditated more. She remained there until the sun had disappeared and the moons grew bright in the night sky. She shivered. There had not been a single word spoken to her. With a sigh she packed up her belongings and returned to town.

It was difficult to sleep. She had never slept much as it was but tonight she couldn't help but keep a cautious eye open.

At dawn S'Kylir returned to the same spot she had been the night before and repeated the same ritual with the same result. When she returned the inn she and her two companions collected their things and suited up. She put on her hodgepodge of steel armor, her black battle dress, leggings, boots and strapped her longsword to her belt. They were disposable things that she didn't mind damaging in her fights with the demons and in the damn ice and mud and snow. Perhaps one day she would be able to use the relics she kept stored away in her summer home once more. Just once more before she passed into Atherium.

The road was slick with melt, but the sun was shining on them. Life had begun to spring up in the form of birds singing, trees sprouting waxy little buds and the wild grasses reaching tiny tendrils up out of the snow to feed on the light. It was beautiful and spiritually lifting. By the Divines she wanted to kill something.