"I'll pass."

"Suit yourself."

"I don't know about the rest of you," said Raieve, "but I actually feel better. Anticipating an attack from an unknown enemy is worse than the fight itself, in my mind."

Silverdun nodded but said nothing. Since his encounter with Faella, he'd spoken little, hiding his disfigured face behind the hood of his cloak. When asked about it, he would say only, "I can't remove it," and something about that seemed to disturb him deeply.

Finally, Mauritane said, "I agree," though his thoughts seemed to be elsewhere as well.

Later in the afternoon they came upon a rocky outcropping with a flat top that had been kept free of snow and ice by the wind. Though darkness was still more than an hour away, he ordered the others to make camp while he and Silverdun studied the charts.

"I don't see how we can make Sylvan by Fourth Stag at this rate," Silverdun confessed, marking their estimated position on one of the maps. "It's Thirty-first Swan now. That leaves us only five days, and by this chart we're easily seven days out at our current speed."

"I feared as much," said Mauritane, lighting his pipe and drawing on it thoughtfully. "And that's assuming we cross the Contested Lands without further molestation."

"Right. I don't think we have any choice."

"You think we should try the shifting places?"

"I don't see how we can avoid it at this point. It's dangerous, but from the tone of the Chamberlain's letter, it would appear that our lot is even graver if we fail to reach Sylvan in time."

"Do you believe you can find the right places?"

Silverdun nodded slowly, the hood of his cloak hiding his eyes. "It will be difficult, and we'll have to ride even more slowly. But if we come across a suitable patch of torn land, we can make up the time in a few hours."

"Then I believe we have no other viable alternative. Start explaining to Mave and Satterly how to ride into a shifting place while I go for water with Raieve. There is a matter I must discuss with her."

Silverdun raised his head and looked directly at Mauritane. "A matter?" he said, his lip turned up in a mischievous grin.

"Don't be coy, Silverdun," said Mauritane. "It ill suits you."

He rose and called out to Raieve, who had just finished raising her tent. "Come with me, Raieve. Bring the water skins. I believe I saw a stream as we approached." He pointed down a sloping hillside.

When they were away from the camp, he said, "Raieve, there is something we must discuss."

Raieve nodded. "Yes, I've thought so as well."

"Really?" said Mauritane. "We must not be speaking of the same matter. What is yours?"

Raieve bit her lip. "I ... perhaps now is not the best time. I may have been mistaken."

Mauritane nodded and they walked in silence. He watched her from the corner of his eye. Sharp, proud, beautiful. A part of him ached to watch her.

"Say it anyway," said Mauritane. "Perhaps now is the best time."

Raieve looked at him. "I wanted to ask you. I'm merely curious." She bit her lip again, and Mauritane found that this tiny display of vulnerability on her part warmed his spirit.

"Yes?"

"I've noticed that you seem to be avoiding me. I wondered if perhaps I had done something to displease you."

Mauritane nodded slowly. "I'd like to say I don't know what you're talking about. That would be easier. But it would not be the truth."

It was Raieve's turn to nod. "So I have displeased you in some way."

"No!" said Mauritane, a bit louder than he had intended. "It's not that at all."

"What then?" She brushed her braids away from her face uneasily.

"It's difficult for me to discuss, Raieve, for many reasons. While we're on this mission, I am your captain, not your friend. It's not appropriate to discuss ... personal matters."

"I think they should be discussed if they interfere with our working relationship, don't you?" Raieve raised an eyebrow.

"What do you want me to say, Raieve?" said Mauritane, stopping and turning to face her. "That I am attracted to you? That I watch you whenever you're not looking? That I wish things were different somehow?"

Raieve looked down. "Would it be so bad if you did say such things? Would it be so bad if I said them as well?" She looked up and their eyes met.

"Such things cannot be said between us," Mauritane finally said. "I have a wife in the City Emerald. I take my vows seriously."

"I know that," she said. "I know that, and I respect you for it. But it does not change how I feel."

"Nor I," Mauritane admitted.

They began walking again. "Then it seems we have reached an impasse," she said.

"It would seem so."

Raieve wiped her eye with the back of her sleeve, though Mauritane could see no tears there.

"What is the matter that you wished to discuss," she said, "since the other matter has so swiftly run its course?"

Mauritane set his jaw. "I believe one of the others is a spy, although which one of them, and for whom, I cannot say."

Raieve looked over her shoulder. "Are you certain? How do you know?"

"Several nights ago, before we crossed the Ebe, someone took a message jar from my saddlebags while we slept. I found the empty jar hidden away from the camp. Last night, another one disappeared. Streak told me that it was a man who had taken them each time, so I knew the spy could not be you."

Raieve snorted. "And here I was beginning to think you might actually trust me."

"I don't have the luxury of trusting anyone, Raieve," said Mauritane.

Raieve must have detected the weariness in his eyes. "No, it was foolish of me to say. I apologize." She began to bite her lip again. She noticed Mauritane's eyes on her and pursed her lips together instead. "Whom do you suspect?" she said.

"For a time I suspected Honeywell," said Mauritane. "He was extremely loyal, but he had a large family, and that could be used against him. After his death, I noticed nothing else unusual until last night."

"It seems unlikely that it would be Mave," Raieve said. "No one knew he was coming with us, him included, until after we'd left Crere Sulace."

Mauritane nodded. They reached the stream and knelt by the water's edge, dipping the first pair of skins into the current. "Of Satterly and Silverdun, I'd be more prone to suspect Silverdun, as much as I am loathe to admit it. He's lost much since his imprisonment and perhaps sees this as a way of restoring some of his former power."

"But what of Satterly?" she countered. "How much do you know about him? He's human, and it's well known that oaths mean nothing to them."

"I've thought about that as well," said Mauritane. The first skin full, he replaced its stopper and draped it on the bank, selecting another. Raieve took it from him and filled it herself.

"I don't trust Satterly at all," said Mauritane, "but I don't think he is the informer. For one, he appears to have had little contact with anyone outside of Crere Sulace, and for another, no one could have suspected that I would select him for this mission." He let the skin sink into the stream. "No, I fear that Silverdun is the one."

"Think of it from the other direction," said Raieve. "Who would place a spy among us?"

"The obvious choice would be Purane-Es," said Mauritane. "He, however, knows as much about this mission as I do. I also think he'd prefer that we fail."

"Perhaps the spy's purpose is to coordinate an ambush by Purane-Es himself?"

Mauritane shook his head. "Not unless he has retainers I don't know about. All of Purane-Es's men that I've seen were once under my command, and I doubt they would have the heart to slay me. Though I would not put it past him to hire mercenaries."

"Who else? The Queen? What about the Unseelie?"

"Honestly, I can't imagine," said Mauritane. "If only I knew why we were here, this would not be so difficult. How can I discern an enemy when I don't even know where I stand?"

He hung his head. "I have tried all my life to live as honorably as I knew how. I trusted those around me. I was loyal to my Queen and my country without question. And now I don't know who or what to trust anymore. After what we did to that Unseelie soldier, making him shame himself, I'm not even sure I trust my own motivations anymore. Where is the line between honor and duty? It used to be so clear to me but I can't see it anymore!"

Raieve touched his arm. "Listen to me," she said. "That Unseelie dog dishonored himself when he opened his mouth and started yapping. None of the others chose to do so. They had honor I never would have given their kind credit for. If a man flees from a battle, is the opposing general to blame for his calumny?"

"It was not a battle, and we deceived him. What bothers me is that I no longer know if my loyalty to my Queen truly justifies it."

"If it means anything, I think you are one of the most honorable men I have known, and your questioning of it only means that you're too wise to be satisfied with following blindly."

"Thank you," he said, his voice hesitant. "But of course now we have reason to believe that the Unseelie may be preparing an offensive. If that happens, then I fear none of this will even matter!"

Raieve's water skin was nearly full. Her hand slipped in the cold water and she let go of it, overbalancing. She began to fall toward the stream.

Mauritane reached out, catching both the water skin and her arm in his strong grip. He pulled her away from the water and they fell backward onto the dry grass. Their faces were only inches apart, their arms and legs touching. They remained motionless that way for a few breaths, their eyes locked and their lips barely apart.

Slowly, he reached out with his other arm and pulled her closer to him.

"Do not be sorry," she said. "Let your worries fall away, just for now." She closed her eyes and leaned forward, brushing her lips against his.

He lacked the strength to fight the current of her. In his confusion she was the only thing that currently made sense. He lowered her to the ground by the water's edge and let his heart take over.

the unusual properties of a shifting place.

When morning came, Mauritane and Raieve again found themselves alone while the others slept. From their vantage point, they could see the roughly etched ground that stretched to the horizon in every direction, marked here and there with streams and rock formations and the misty shimmering patches that were the shifting places. From a distance, the shifting places could barely be made out against their surroundings. From the ground, however, they were nearly impossible to spot, and Silverdun had spent the past three days studiously avoiding them. Now, Mauritane was preparing to order his party directly into them, and the thought did nothing for his peace of mind.

"There is much to discuss after last night, don't you think?"

Mauritane sighed. "I suppose there is."

"Ha," Raieve laughed, in the bitter way that Mauritane found attractive. "It's good to know that even as decent a man as you hates to face the consequences of his desires. It speaks well of the others I've encountered in my life."

Mauritane scowled but did not rise to the bait. "I don't know how I feel about what happened last night."

Raieve's laugh dwindled away. "I think I know. You enjoyed yourself, but in the harsh light of day, you find that you regret what came so easily while the sun was set."

"No," he said. "I don't regret what happened. You'll think me a coward or a hypocrite because I don't wish to continue what I started last night. But that's the truth of it. I could offer a dozen excuses but that's all they would be. I won't insult you with them."

"Well," she said ruefully. "That's something then, isn't it?"

"I'm not sorry about what happened," he said.

"No, just loyal to something else."

"Is that wrong?" He glared at her.

"No," she said. "You're a loyal man, perhaps the most loyal I've met. But you should not confuse loyalty and love. I only hope the objects of your loyalty return your favors."

Mauritane changed the subject. "Last night you said you had a plan to catch the informer."

"Yes, but let's discuss it later. I don't think I want to talk to you right now."

Mauritane watched her walk away, knowing in his heart that he'd just let something precious slip through his fingers, knowing also that he wanted her now more than ever.

When they were all awake and ready to ride, Mauritane gathered them on horseback and asked them to pay attention. Raieve showed no trace of her earlier bitterness, and Mauritane felt certain his face was empty of emotion as well.

"I've decided that if we're going to reach Sylvan by Fourth Stag, we must ride into one of the quickened shifting places. Silverdun, explain what I mean."

Silverdun sat proudly on his roan, though he kept the cloak tightly hooded. "There are several different types of shifting place; I studied them extensively in my Academy days. Some are rents in the very stuff of matter. These are lethal, quick moving, and the hardest to spot. Riding into one of them is like riding into a brick wall. Others are fields in which time moves at a different rate from our own. Some are slowed, some are quickened. The quickened places tend to be narrow and stretch for many miles. If we can successfully ride into one of them, a day's ride within might be the equivalent of three or four days' ride at a normal pace."

"Apparent physical impossibilities aside," said Satterly, "it sounds like a great trick. What's the catch?"

"The difficulty is crossing the shifting place's border. If you ride through quickly, at a direction perpendicular to the boundary, you may experience nothing more than a brief headache. Take the crossing too slowly, or at too great an angle, and you could be shredded like a cabbage by the shearing forces of the boundary."

"But we can't even see them," said Satterly. "How do we know to make our approach?"

"I will be your eyes," said Silverdun. "The thing can be done; I've seen it before at the Academy. They have great engines there capable of producing such rifts."

Mauritane nodded. "Ordinarily, on a volunteer mission such as this, I would ask anyone who felt uncomfortable risking his life in such a manner to except himself. Here, though, your chances of survival in the Contested Lands alone are small at best. We ride as one, or we give up now and the rest of you make your escape."

"The rest of us?" said Mave. "Why wouldn't you come with us if we chose not to go?"

"I have my responsibilities," said Mauritane, his eyes on Raieve, who pretended not to notice. "I cannot absolve myself of them. You, however, have not taken the vows that I have."

"Well," said Satterly, "I've come this far. It seems dumb to turn back now."

"For once I agree with the human," said Silverdun. "I'm already receiving bruises; I at least want a chance at the prize."