[The evening following the riots is a strange one in Montfort.  While the Church is engaged in a pitched battle with Republica forces around the Banco de Nacionale, the Politi household, still in hiding, mourns the loss of Wyland Koltke and Uralia Felder.  Deanna Foley, a Politi journeywoman, has traveled into Montfort with her lover, Silverfox -- a half-elf age/fighter/thief.  There, Deanna unexpectedly encounters Linnell, who has ventured outside the Church in the hope of visiting the handsome Aeschere Scyld at the Dragon's Inn.]

    The half-elf kept himself from starting when Deanna grabbed his arm, but only barely.  He watched her face, brows furrowed in concentration, while she tried to figure out whatever it was she wanted to tell him.

    His face clearly showed his surprise at her pronouncement.  "I'm better than I thought," he smiled.  "Shall we go see what she is doing about by herself on a night like this?"

[Deanna]

        Deanna frowned again as she studied the approaching figure.  "We have to be careful," she murmured, "she is Blood-bonded to Blayne and doesn't -- doesn't know what he has done.  And she may have .... guards."  Not that she could see any, but that didn't mean they weren't there; surely the Grand Inquisitor would be more careful about watching her, especially after what had happened on the night Thomis Parch was captured. Unless Linnell had managed to slip free of them again, for some purpose of her own.

[Silverfox]

    "Oh she has guards," the half-elf murmurred.  "You don't let someone your holding wander around by themselves."  He watched the figure approach closely, listening for any other sounds.

[Deanna]
 
        To hunt Drywen, Deanna realized, remembering what Thomis had reported of his encounters with Linnell while he was a "guest" of the Grand Inquisitor.  And on top of that worry, something was wrong with the colors, something she could not read.  "Why are they so pale?" she wondered, not realizing she had whispered the question aloud.

[Silverfox]

    "What do you mean, Blood-bonded?" the thief asked, puzzled.
[Deanna]

        "I'm not sure how it works," she answered, "but he -- well, apparently he is Kindred, and by giving her his blood he has made her -- has enthralled her."  Sinking further back into the alleyway, Deanna spun one thread <out> *so* very carefully, a thin, non-threatening one, to send it slipping down the sidewalk.  So that Linnell would see it, and know a Politi mage was nearby.

[Silverfox]

    Silverfox stayed by her side, watching as she did...something. He could feel a slight tingle down his spine as she worked, and he watched the figure closely again, occasionally scanning the area for anything that might pose a threat.

    'Kindred,' the half-elf said to himself, 'working with blood.'  He hadn't known what a Kindred was, but he knew what worked with blood in strange ways like the one Deanna described.  Pale colors?  At least paler than they should have been.  This didn't bode well.
 
[Linnell/Deanna]
 
        Linnell stopped in the middle of the sidewalk as soon as she saw the thread moving towards her, unable to breathe, almost as if her heart had stopped in her chest.  -Gods,- she thought to herself, frozen in place with shock and hope and fear.  Half-obfuscating, Linnell took one slow step, fighting the urge to break into a run, then another, towards the alley where the thread originated.
 
        Then she stopped again, remembering what had happened the last time she had been in a dark alley.  And remembering her quarry, Drywen, and how he apparently had betrayed the Weavers' House.  (Just a small note of doubt buried in the back of her mind continued to trouble her, but it was not enough by itself to turn her from her hunt.
 
        Linnell would have spun her own thread in answer, if she could have, but they still moved <away> from her, reluctant to yield to her grasp.  So she stood there, wavering, a few feet short of the entrance to the alleyway.  In turn, Deanna sighed in exasperation, and spun the thread closer, to sweep across Linnell's wrist, then dance away again.  Just a slight <pulse> along it to speak her name.  ::Linnell, please.::
 
        Linnell flinched backwards at the touch, and at the sound of the other's voice in her mind, then choking back a sob, she stepped into the mouth of the alley.  "Deanna?"  Her face in the circle of the hood was pale, and her brown eyes wide.  Another step in and she was beyond the view from the street, still a dozen feet from the other two; and she stopped again.
 
        Deanna folded down her hood and took one step forward.  Stopping when Linnell stepped back automatically.  "Linnell," she said very softly, holding out one hand.  "We have missed you terribly."  The other girl did not move, but her face twisted with something akin to panic.  "Please, Linnell."  If only she get Linnell close enough to grab her, to teleport them both straight back to Barnabas'.  But Linnell would not move.
 
[Silverfox]

    Silverfox was still scanning the surroundings as the girl took her first few steps into the alley.  He focused his attention on her, noting how skittish she was.  Best to let Deanna handle it, the half-elf decided. But he had to make his suspicions known.

    "Kindred, blood, pale colors," he breathed in a whisper that would carry no further than Deanna.
 
[Deanna/Linnell]

        It was only with the greatest effort that Deanna managed to keep her hand extended and her face calm.  The realization -- something she had never even considered -- was a blow to her chest, squeezing all the air from her.  -Kindred, Linnell is Kindred.-  Not just Blood-bonded to the Grand Inquisitor, but Kindred also.

        She could tell by the way Linnell's eyes narrowed that the other had seen something pass through her own colors, a ripple of Deanna's fear. Then, Deanna saw Linnell's eyes move from her to Silverfox and back again, and she knew even before Linnell spoke that the response would not be friendly.  "Another admirer of yours?"  Linnell asked in a cold tone, her eyes burning.  "Does Wyland know you're skulking in back alleyways with other men?"

        Deanna lowered her hand, remembering the last time she had seen Linnell, that conversation -- or interrogation -- about Deanna's possible attachments with Drywen Regelli.  So close, but not close enough.  Deanna took one very small step forward, putting herself between Silverfox and Linnell.  "Linnell," she said softly, "Wyland is dead.  He died earlier today at the ... at the Cleansing."

        The change in Linnell's colors was immediate, a darkening spiral twisting upon itself, as if she had heard something she had feared and dreaded for a long time.  "Dead?" she echoed, taking one step towards Deanna.  "At the Cleansing?  Where are--  Where are the others?  Are they--  Are they safe?"

        Deanna took another small step forward, moving so carefully as she watched the colors turning around Linnell.  "Lanaera and Paul and Kallin are.  And Veril and Emerson and Fredia."  Deanna stopped moving for a moment.  "But Jana, Neil and Michael were killed in the Cleansing of the House.  And Johanna."  Every name was like a blow that kept Linnell in place, kept her from moving, kept her from striking, and Deanna moved forward.  "And Uralia and Wyland died this morning, on the pyre--"

        Deanna had been expecting that if any attack came, it would be magical, a toss of the threads around her.  And she was prepared for that, watching for any indication that Linnell had called them, that Linnell was ready to cast <out>.  But she was not prepared for the speed with which Linnell covered the remaining distance between them, and the force with which Linnell struck, backhanding her once across the face and then pushing her against the wall with enough force to knock the wind from her.

[Silverfox]

    The half-elf had been content to let Deanna handle her friend until he saw the look cross her face.  He knew what was coming, but was a few feet too far away to stop it.  He moved when Linnell did, but she was much quicker than he had anticipated.  'Luck, how'd she move so fast?' he asked himself.

    He arrived a second after the shove to Deanna, grabbing Linnell's upper arms and slamming her hard against the far wall of the alley. "That was a mistake, girl, and vampire or no, I will break you in half if you try it again."  His voice had a dangerous edge to it; it was a promise he would deliver on.

[Deanna/Linnell]

        Linnell just stood there staring at Silverfox as if she had forgotten the half-elf was even in the alleyway.  And she had forgotten, having been so focused on what Deanna was saying, on every name of those lost, that she had ignored the strange man behind the other mage.  With a snarl, she forced the threads to come to her

                <nononono>

and pushed back, just hard enough to free herself from him, to watch as Deanna climbed her way to her feet, one hand on the wall.  "Did you do this with Drywen?" Linnell asked, her voice harsh, glimmering in the colors of the twisting threads.

        Deanna touched one hand to her bleeding lip and looked at Linnell.  "Drywen had nothing to do with this, Linnell--"  And spun a shield around herself and Silverfox an instant before the second attack  came, a turning, ragged weave of fire that set Deanna's mage-sight ablaze when it struck her shields.

[Kit]
 
Kit had been heading back to the Church from her meeting with Aeschere; their forest dance had left her feeling very fey. She played amongst the shadows, letting the night sooth the stresses of the day.
 
The sound of fire crackling reached her sensitive ears - a sound she had heard too much this day.
 
Kit turned towards the sound, knowing her protectors would not be far behind, and slipped to the alley's entrance. And there she saw Linnell with her threads twisting angrily in her hands - with two cornered behind a shield. Fury poured from the young mage and Kit moved to stand at her right hand, wondering who the two were that deserved her wrath.
 
[Silverfox]

    The half-elf felt strong tingles shiver down his back and suddenl ythere was fire coming at him.  He flinched instinctively, throwing a angry glance to Deanna.  "I thought she was your friend.

    "You have three seconds to stop her before I do."

[Deanna]

        "I don't want to hurt her," Deanna snapped back, flipping the shielding around Linnell's attack and redirecting it.  The threads weren't responding to the other willingly -- something Deanna was grateful for, for she knew Linnell was a stronger mage than she was.  Holding her voice calm and yanking the magicks out of Linnell's grasp, Deanna spoke again. "Linnell, Drywen had nothing to do with what happened to Wyland.  You have to believe me.  Please, come home with me--"

        The ground lurched beneath her, as Linnell struck out again. ::Lies,:: Linnell's thought was an arrow that made Deanna gasp in response, and she strengthened the shielding as Linnell cast another weave around her.  Desperate to keep Silverfox or Varg from hurting Linnell, and Linnell from hurting him.

[Kit]

Kit wasn't sure who the two were, but the shielded woman used magic much as Linnell did, and more importantly - she knew of Drywen and Wyland!

The fox woman could take some guesses about the situation - that Linnell had run into one of the Politi, and that somewhere in the coarse of their discussion she had decided that Drywen was to blame for Wyland's death. Kit knew that Linnell could easily blame Drywen for everything, and she heartily wished she had told Linnell about Wyland earlier.

In a firm, clear voice - so that Linnell would heed her, Kit said, "Drywen had nothing to do with your friend's death....." Her next words felt like she was dragging searing fire from her own throat, since she knew that Linnell would see her omission as a betrayal, "..... I saw him die."

[Deanna/Linnell]

        Linnell turned immediately from the other two to face Kit, her expression one of pained surprise.  "What?"  Her eyes moved from Deanna to Kit and back again; Deanna kept her shields wrapped around her, recognizing Kitrina Tvyvar.  "She said he--"  Cleansing.  Deanna could see the realization hit Linnell like a body blow.  Cleansing of the Weavers' House.  Wyland had died at the Cleansing.  On the pyre.

        As quickly as that, Linnell's colors drained away and she dropped the threads, staring aghast at all three of them.  Before Deanna could react, though, Linnell slipped into shadows and was gone, out of the alley, down the street.  And between Deanna and the chance to follow her stood Kit Tvyvar.  Blood-bound to Grand Inquisitor Blayne.

        "She deserves to know the truth," Deanna said to the other woman,  touching her bleeding lip again.  "Whatever else you may think about him, she deserves to know the truth about what he has done.  About how he has hunted us.  How he gutted Michael.  And tore Johanna apart.  About how Wyland and Uralia were tortured."  For all Kit had once been a friend to Thomis and Drywen, Deanna would kill her if necessary to make sure she and Silverfox got out of that alley without Inquisitors being summoned.  "That may not mean anything to you, Kit Tvyvar.  But once, we meant something to her.  And she is loved by many.  She deserves to know."

[Kit]

Kit's attention was only half on Deanna's words, but more on the empty shadows beyond the alley - where Linnell had gone. The fox woman felt like she had plunged a dagger into her friend's heart - and she knew that in many ways she had.

Mistaken identity or no, she knew that Wyland and Uralia had been cruelly abused by the Church. It was Blayne's job and orders, which was no excuse but a fact. And now he would have to face Linnell's hurt and anger - just as she would.

Kit only half turned to Deanna as she said, "She would have known - just not tonight. It was only yesterday that she was murdered." With those words the fox woman stepped into the shadows and was gone as surely as Linnell.

[Linnell returns to the Church and confronts Blayne with the knowledge of his role in the destruction of the Politi's chapterhouse, the Weavers' House.  Blayne tells Linnell that she is free to leave the Church.]

[Linnell]

        Linnell ran a brush through her long brown hair one last time before tying it into a ponytail at the back of her head.  She considered her face in the mirror for several minutes before turning away to look tiredly at the bedchamber Blayne had given her.  Too much grey in the room, and she could not bear to stay in the Church any longer.  He had said to go to the Inn, he would arrange to have the other Politi pick her up there ...

        Linnell felt in her pocket to make certain she had taken the silver loop that had marked her as Lanaera's apprentice.  Time to go -- she would walk there herself, through the rubble and chaos that was Montfort, she had done it earlier in the evening.  Drawing a deep breath, Linnell opened the door to the outer chamber -- and stopped when she saw the others gathered there.  Selene and Kit, Dalmanae and Smith.  Two who were intimately known to her and two who were virtual strangers.  None whom she particularly wanted to see at that time.

        At least Blayne was not there.

        "I'm going to the Inn," Linnell heard herself say in a voice completely lacking in any strength.

[Kit]

Kit held back, and said nothing. She was not about to leave Linnell until her friend was back with her Order, but the fox woman did not want to make her presence too noticeable to the girl.

[Smith]

Smith grinned and commented "It looks like we're all heading in the same direction then.  Shall we walk?  I could use some exercise, and a walk before a meal always improves my appetite."

[Linnell]

        Linnell shrugged, as if indifferent to whether the others accompanied her.  She glanced sideways at Selene and Kit as she started down the stairs, but spoke to neither.  She had no idea what to say to them, and did not want to find out whether they would defend Blayne to her, would try to give the explanations he had failed to give for himself.

[Smith]

The group proceeded toward the Inn;  the odor of smoke hung heavily in the air.  Not all the bodies had yet been cleared from where they had fallen, and many untreated injured still walked around in a daze.  Stray dogs roamed the streets, most injured, and all confused.  Smith strolled along happily, humming the Company anthem, and said, "See that pile of rubble over there?  I was on the second floor when Motrinn fired a couple of his special crossbow bolts into the building.  I barely made it out with skin intact."

He added to Linnell, "So how long have you been around Montfort?  This would be my second year in the town, but I'm planning to relocate.  Have you lived here long?"

[Linnell]

        Linnell had kept her eyes trained on the sidewalk in front of her feet as they moved towards the Inn, but she looked up briefly at Smith, surprised when he addressed her.  She had heard a lot of stories about him, most of them confusing.  "Four years," she answered softly.  "I have been here four years."  She blinked and turned her eyes downward again; she had turned off both Auspex and her Politi mage sight, being even less inclined to see the magical after-effects of the fighting than the rubble and wandering wounded.

[Dalmanae]

The group was much too quiet, that was for certain, but she couldn't think of a neutral topic that might interest Linnell. The girl was pale though, and she knew that that wasn't good for a vampire.

"Linnell, do you need something to tide you over until for awhile? I'm kind of hungry myself."

[Linnell]

        Linnell looked over to the elf, then fixed her eyes again on the ground, remembering that the other woman had been there during her Embrace.  Had been with Smith when he had supplied herself, Blayne and Selene with "dinner" from Pas du Mer.  "No," she answered, fighting to keep her voice calm.  She had fed earlier from Blayne, the hunger for blood was merely a low ache inside, drowned out by other things.

[Selene]

With the group proceeding in an appropriate silence, given the devastation, Selene kept turning her head to scan the surroundings.

Occasionally her vision flickered into what she had seen earlier with Its'shyn, and on one such flicker, she thought she saw Its'shyn watching them.

It must have been only her imagination, cause she couldn't sense anyone near.

Selene moved up to take one of Linnell's hands, squeezing it gently, and just holding it for comfort, if it was wanted.

[Its'shyn]

He followed the quiet group slowly.  It wasn't hard to keep pace in the shadowlands, and he was unseen to almost all.  He watched the shadows curl around Selene and Linnell following them almost willingly.  He wasn't sure what they were, but he had never seen the shadows drawn to a non-shadowmage so readily.  He could only imagine the power a true shadow-weaver like himself would gain.  If he could not find the source of this power from Selene, the other might tell him something.  Or they might admit something in their conversations to each other.  So he followed, and he watched.

[Linnell]

        Linnell did not look at Selene as the other woman took her hand, but her fingers tightened at the touch, clutching desperately.  There were things that needed to be said later, but for now she was content to wait until they had a less public forum.  Questions to be asked -- with answers she probably would not want to hear.

[Kit]

Kit was relieved that Linnell was at least letting Selene near. The fox woman walked at the rear of the little group, but paid little heed to the jagged evidence of Montfort's destruction. She had traveled through it enough this night, and knew it too well.

[Smith]

Smith replied to Linnell's earlier comment, saying "Four years? Then you're fortunate.  You got to enjoy Montfort when it was smaller;  you know, it was really a very friendly, happy little town.  Hopefully the Church can restore some of that feeling... there was a fellow named Proctor Elliot up North that had gotten a small city to have that 'feel' to it.  Unfortunately, the place wound up getting destroyed.  More thoroughly than Montfort, actually." He had conveniently omitted any reference to just who had done the deed, since it would no longer be politically correct to do so!

[Linnell]

        "Yes, maybe Montfort will be a 'friendlier' place under the Church," Linnell answered in a low voice, with a note of her anger echoing in her voice.  "After it has been thoroughly Cleansed."  As she said it,  she wondered whether she should release Selene's hand -- but it was the only comfort she had then, the only comfort she would accept.

[Smith]

"It's too bad I didn't get to know you weavers earlier.  My normal quarters tend to be a bit cold and spartan.  A nice rug or two would have been nice."

Arriving at the Inn, Smith greeted Hugh and Judy warmly, and teased Lulu a bit about the cinnamon rolls having gotten smaller of late; which they hadn't.  If anyone maintained standards in Montfort, it was the Dragon's Inn!  A large table was easily located, and soon they were seated.  Fawn was no where to be seen, but another waitress soon came to the table to take orders for food and drink...

[Linnell]

        Linnell wanted only to find a room and crawl into it, shut the door and pull the blankets over her head.  But that would have left her alone with the grey, so though she did not need -- nor did she particularly want -- any food or drink, she slipped into a chair at the table and unfolded a napkin into her lap.  By now, the evening had moved into the earliest hours of morning but the common room was still *very* buy -- especially following the destruction of so many buildings in Montfort earlier that day.

[Selene]

Selene was neither hungry nor thirsty, but she ordered a cocktail. Sitting next to Linnell, still holding her hand, and squeezing it supportively, she waited. When Linnell was ready she would say something.

[Its'shyn]

Its'shyn found few shadows in the inn, but there was one in the corner by the large table.  He waited inside it watching silently.  The shadows still clung to the two women, so Its'shyn watched them closer than the rest.  He listened to the mournful siren's song of the nomads and waited.

[Linnell]

        Linnell sat silently for several minutes, simply holding on to Selene's hand and glancing around, her eyes never finding a place to rest.  -Deanna always said the colors of the people in the Inn were the most interesting,- Linnell thought.  Perhaps if she allowed herself to look with mage-sight and Auspex ...  it would give her something to keep her mind occupied.

        She blinked, and as quickly as that the room changed, becoming a swirling mix of lights and shadows.  So many different people, with so many different shades ...  Then, she made the mistake of looking at Smith.

[Selene]

Selene sat there silently, squeezing Linnell's hand every now and again, and getting a reassuring squeeze back. One of them was trembling a little, but she didn't know which. To go from such a pleasant evening with Its'shyn, to a traumatic incident like ...

Her train of thought was interrupted suddenly.

While thinking of Its'shyn, she had slipped back into that shadow view, and had seen him standing in the corner. Then the shadow view had disappeared. That meant a couple of things.

She had some control over the shadow world, although she couldn't summon the view, it had come when she thought of Its'shyn. Also, Its'shyn was watching them and was invisible to her. That would be a neat trick to learn.

[Its'shyn]

Its'shyn stood still as Selene's sight flickered again.  He smiled at her, and watched.  She seemed startled by her newfound power.  Its'shyn began to feel the cold of the shadowlands.  His own boost of power was waning.

[Kit]

Kit had seated herself near Smith and Dalmanae - she didn't want to make Linnell anymore uneasy than she already was, and knew that Selene would be able to comfort their friend.

As the smell of food wafted through the room she had the passing thought that she hadn't eaten in more hours than she could remember, but even with that knowledge she had no appetite. She partially turned to listen to Smith and Dalmanae, and to give Linnell and Selene some privacy.

[Smith]

As was always the case, he was ravenous after a fight!  He ordered steak, medium well, with dragon-pod sauce...some of the nicely browned, slightly crisp on the outside, pan fried potatoes...a bit of salad...and some well aged elvish red wine.  It was a meal fit for a lord, and, given the food supply situation, it had a price tag to match!

He commented to Dalmanae, "Care for the same?  Or...I noticed they had some nice grilled trout."  He grinned and added, "I don't know how Hugh does it!"

[Dalmanae]

"I think I'll have the stew. A loaf of bread, butter, some cheese and a glass of apple wine." She smiled apologetically at Smith. "I'm afraid I'm not as into spices as you are, or I'd be blind after a meal such as  yours."

[Linnell]

        Linnell thought she might go blind simply from looking at Smith.  She stared openly for several long moments, her brown eyes wide with surprise at what she saw moving around the man.  Looking at him with both Auspex and her Politi mage-sight was too much, so she tried the former by itself, to read the aura that Auspex would show her.

        Overall, it was a dark aura, and scores of images -- faces -- moved around the perimeter with a rapid, frenzied rippling.  Those images themselves showed their own shades, a deep purple of aggression and enraged crimson, an embittered brown.  At the center, though, where his aura faded away from the spectres moving so wildly throughout, Smith showed a light sky blue whose calm was completely at odds with the violent, twisted colors that characterized those ... faces or forms or shapes.  A collected, self-confident, balanced light blue that sparkled with the signs of a magic-user; Linnell doubted that the cold  equilibrium of that blue center would ever change, even in the midst of battle. The contrast between the center and the surrounding aura almost made her gape in surprise.

        Suddenly aware that she had been staring, Linnell dropped her eyes to the table-top and toyed with her silverware with her free hand.  Her curiosity, however, got the best of her, and she looked sideways, switching from Auspex to Politi mage-sight.  To read what those colors would tell her, if anything.

        Black was the first thing she saw, a deep roiling ebon that made her hand tremble in Selene's grasp, so close was it to the black she feared would appear in her own colors soon.  It moved slowly, like thick tar, and as it did so, the crest of each wave turned up harsh, broken glimmers like the echoes of screams.  Linnell thought that if she had been able to seize the threads, and had reached <out> to touch those warped flashes, they would have leapt at the line and scrambled their way across, shrieking.

        And so much more, so much more complicated than anyone else she had seen.  A thick cord, like a leash or a channel, flickered through his colors again and again; it was pursued by a strange, inhuman crimson surging in a pattern she could not follow, but which tasted of flight and fire and time.

        And, again, underlying everything, a smooth undisturbed foundation.  There were many colors there, not just the light blue that Auspex showed, and they moved in complex patterns of their own making.  But despite that complexity, and despite the way those shades shifted and turned themselves, the feel was of an untroubled surface of water, covering something deep and immovable, unreadable and unknown.

[Its'shyn]

He watched Linnell stare at the other man.  As she stared, the shadows around her boiled and churned in response to her mood.  Its'shyn watched as a tendril started to creep towards the object of her attention, and then dispersed.  He looked at the man who obviously bothered her so, and saw nothing.  His magic was very strong and it showed in the shadows, but Its'shyn saw nothing else.

The cold intruded more strongly and Its'shyn felt hunger rapidly growing. He wrapped a cloak of the shadows around himself, and stepped out of the corner and into the Inn.  He slithered towards the table and spoke quietly, "Hello again Ssselene.  Feeling better I sssee.  Hello Kit."  He bowed. "Do you mind if I join you?  I wasss about to partake of a meal myssself."

[Kit]

Kit turned towards Its'shyn and said, "Evening Its'shyn." She, herself,  only had ordered a mug of mulled cider - the scent of cinnamon rising from the mug.

[Linnell]

        Glanced up to find herself staring again, this time at the odd-looking newcomer.  Not that there weren't equally strange creatures in Montfort -- in fact, sitting in the common room that very moment.  But  she had not expected any of them to step up to the table and address Selene and Kit.  Caught with her mage-sight active, Linnell could not help but see the other's colors.

        Though "colors" probably was not the proper way to describe it. Shadows, or lack of light, shifted around him in carefully ordered patterns, the lines almost hummed they were so taut.  When he looked at  Selene, something made those tightly controlled patterns ripple in reaction.  And when he looked at Linnell, she could not keep herself from sinking back in her chair with a rush of fear.

        <hunger>

        She shivered at the sound of the threads -- still moving around her, but refusing her touch -- humming in response to the stranger's presence.   Linnell could see them, quiet and invisible to non-Politi unless woven, skittering away from this Its'shyn.  Not from Smith, she noted with some surprise, as the threads swam under his chair and curled under his feet, unperturbed by that thick blackness around him.  But they would have nothing to do with the creature who had greeted Kit and Selene.

                <hunger>

        Startled, Linnell continued to stare, unable to look away from that blanket of shadows wrapped around Its'shyn.  Terrified that it would cast itself out and snare her, pull her in and drain the last of her faltering colors from her.

[Its'shyn]

Its'shyn could not help but notice Linnell's reaction to him.  He heard her inaudible gasp, watched her shrink away, and smelled the fear in her scent. He looked closely at her.  He smiled slightly, and spoke to her, "I am Itsss'ssshyn." He offered her his gloved hand. "I do not believe we've been introduced.  May I have your name, pretty one?"

[Selene]

Feeling Linnell's hand tense, she squeezed it back, reassuring her. "Its'shyn, may I introduce Linnell, Smith, and Dalmanae," she said, nodding her head towards each as she said their name.

Then, catching a waitress' attention, she asked for an interior, windowless room to be set up for her, with a double bed, and for the key to be given to her here. She handed over a gold piece, enough for a couple of days at least.

As the waitress returned with the key, a group of farmers sat down at a table near by.

[Linnell]

        Linnell continued to sit silently, clutching Selene's hand like a  life-line, relieved that the other woman had made it unnecessary for her to do anything but nod at Its'shyn, and had taken steps to secure a room where she could stay until -- until what?  Until someone came for her, until Kallin or Lanaera came for her.  Briefly, she wondered whether anyone would, even if Blayne managed to get a message to them, would any of them risk that this might be a trap, with her as the bait?

        And she wondered whether they would be right.

        But little time to think of that, as a noisy collection of farmhands took a near table.

[Farmer Svinth]

"I'll be buying the ale tonight, friends. I canna believe it, I saw me wife dead, yet she is alive again. It is the Lord's Mercy."

[Farmer Bordns]

"Nay, it was the Redeemer. I saw the Grand Inquisitor Blayne praying to the Redeemer to return the souls, of those innocents taken in the battles, and suddenly the bodies healed and walked back to their loved ones. It was a Miracle. Praise the Redeemer."

[Farmer Gruhn]

"Praise the Redeemer, Praise Grand Inquisitor Blayne."

[Farmers Svinth, Bordns and Gruhn]

"Praise Grand Inquisitor Blayne."

[Linnell]

        Linnell paled even more than before, and if she could have curled up, folded inwards upon herself, she would have.  Raising the dead killed in the riots, the riots at the Cleansing, where Wyland had died.  But there was no Raising him, no reassembling his ashes and returning his patterns and colors to him.

                <notalone>

the threads reminded her.  But they moved away from her when she reached for them.

        Swallowing a sob, Linnell pulled her hand free of Selene's and pushed her chair back.  ::Upstairs,:: she sent to the other woman before almost whirling and heading for the steps.  Before her feet, the threads flowed away, rejecting her.

[Selene]

Grabbing the key, off the waitress, she followed Linnell up the stairs, muttering an apology to the others.

[Kit]

Kit sent to Selene, ::I will be close to guard.:: She sighed to herself and turned back to the others at the table.

[Selene]

Selene rushed up the inn's stairs, taking them three at a time. Glancing at her key, she saw she had room 128. Cathing up with Linnell, she put an arm around the other woman's shoulders, and guided her to the room.

Opening the door, she ushered Linnell in. Looking down the corridor, she just caught sight of Its'shyn coming up the stairs, as she closed the door.

Putting her arms around Linnell, Selene guided her to the bed, where she sat, just holding the other woman tight, running her hands up and down Linnell's back.

[Linnell]

        Linnell huddled into Selene's embrace, trembling from fear and exhaustion and anger and grief.  Such a long time before she could speak, could gasp out anything at all, and when she did so, her voice quavered.  And so many things she wanted to ask and say, it was so hard to decide where to begin.  "You will be going back," Linnell finally managed, voice muffled against Selene's shoulder.  "Back to him."

[Selene]

"Yes I will ... eventually," Selene replied. She slowly ran one hand through the other woman's hair, just being there for her. "When you are not alone anymore."

Selene sat there a little longer, thinking about Blayne and stroking Linnell's hair.

"I love him, with all his flaws. I also love you. He can wait. You are more important to me at the moment." She squeezed Linnell gently, and kissed her head.

[Linnell]

        "I hate him," Linnell whispered fiercely, hands clenching into fists as she said it.  Almost stunned by the force of her anger, she kept her shields solid around her mind so Selene would not feel it.  Though she knew Selene could tell from the way Linnell shook in her arms.  "I'm sorry," Linnell finally continued.  "I'm so sorry if that hurts you.  But I hate him."

[Selene]

"Shhhhhhhhh .....", Selene held her tight, and continued stroking her hair softly. "Whatever he did, does it mean you hate me, too? Because I love him, and will marry him?" Selene started rocking Linnell gently.

[Linnell]

        "No."  Linnell slipped her arms around Selene's waist.  "No."  She could not even imagine hating Selene, who had showed her nothing but kindness; though she was confused by the thought of Selene holding her, soon to return to Blayne's bed, she could not muster even the smallest bit of dislike for her.  She could see the threads shifting in the room, so tantalizingly close, but unresponsive. So much grey in her colors.

        'Whatever he did...' Linnell did not have the strength to recount to Selene everything that Blayne had done.  What must have happened at the Weavers' House (still not knowing how many might have died there), Wyland and Uralia, taking her to his bed so soon after Wyland's death.  "He destroyed everything," she whispered.  "Everything I was and wanted to be."

[Selene]

"Oh Linnell." She hugged her tight, and kissed Linnell's eyelids. "Can you salvage anything? Can you go back to your friends?"

[Linnell]

        "I don't know."  So much grey, and so cold.  "I don't know if they will want me after Deanna tells them ..."  Linnell trailed off for a moment.  "That I am Kindred.  And that I attacked her."  The threads skittered away across the floor at that.  "And I don't know if --"  Her voice caught.  "If it will matter anyway."

[Selene]

"What do you mean if it will matter?" she asked confused. "If they will not accept you, you are always welcome to stay with me, away from him."

[Linnell]

        Linnell shook her head and buried her face in Selene's shoulder again, and it was long minutes before she could speak.  "I can't use the threads, Selene," she whispered.  "I can't touch them, they won't let me.  And I can't live like that."  In a trembling voice, she somehow managed to explain about how she needed the threads just as much as she needed blood.  And about the grey that consumed her colors.

[Selene]

Selene didn't know what to say for a few seconds. Then a thought struck her. "Linnell ... I can think of two things. The grey could be your hate ...  will you give that up? And reach for the threads, but let them come to you, just ask for them, rather than try and grab them."

She wasn't sure if what she said made sense in a magical way, but it seemed logical to her.

[Linnell]

        Linnell shook her head again and pulled her arms away from Selene. She needed to put some distance between them, just a little bit, and sheslipped from the bed, wrapping her arms around the emptiness in her chest. "For a Politi mage, the grey is the very first stages of dying.  It can mean other things, in non-mages, too.  But when the threads don't answer,when they reject you--"  She drew a deep breath and leaned back against the wall near the door.  "Soon the colors will be gone completely.  And the black will come.  And my patterns will unravel."

        She fixed her eyes on the floor, where the threads skimmed just above the surface.  She reached <out> for them, and they danced away.

[Selene]

"No ... there has to be a way," she stated. "Do the threads live? Will they come to you if wait? Like a dog must be slowly tested, until it lets you pet him."

[Linnell]

        "I don't know if they're alive," she murmured, crouching down lower to the floor and holding one hand several inches over it, knowing Selene had no idea what she was doing.  The threads should have jumped to her, should have wrapped themselves around her hand.  Even the briefest touch would have made her weep in relief.  But they danced away.  "I don't have enough time left to wait."  Linnell did not look up at Selene as she said that, she did not want to see whatever was in Selene's face as she said that.

[Selene]

"Oh God, Linnell," Selene said frantically, tears of blood forming in her eyes. "There has to be something you or I can do. Can the other Politi do anything? Can the make the threads touch you? Can they save you? Can anything save you?"

[Linnell]

        "I don't know."  Linnell pushed herself upright and looked at Selene.  A sliver of grey had appeared in the other woman's colors, also, and Linnell's heart sank as she realized she was the source of that.  "I hope so."  Suddenly she was too tired to cry, and she crossed back to the bed to step into Selene's embrace again.  Comforting each other as best they could, with that cold grey around Linnell.  "I don't know.  I hope so."

[Selene]

"How can I contact the Politi?  I need to contact them. I need you, Linnell."  Selene cried in anguish holding Linnell tight.

[Its'shyn]

Having followed the women to their room, Its'shyn stared at the door.  He stepped into the shadowlands, and through the wall...

[Selene]

The world suddenly flipped again, energy pouring into her from the shadows. She saw Its'shyn entering the room, but as the flow of energy stopped, and the world flipped back, he was gone again.  She wondered if any of the energy had flown through into Linnell.

"Is it being Kindred, Linnell? Is it being a vampire that makes the threads avoid you?"

[Its'shyn]

The serpent stood and listened from the shadowlands.  -Vampires?- He had heard of such creatures.  Was that why the shadows reacted to them? Threads? That sounded familiar...

[Linnell]

        Linnell allowed Selene to continue to hold her, jerking in reaction as the shadows in the room surged and the threads flowed away to disappear into the corners of the room in response.  -Its'shyn,- she thought, wondering how close he was.  Outside the room?  That instinctive fear inside her made her twitch again.  "Partly," she whispered in answer to Selene's question.  "And partly because I attacked Deanna with them -- I raised them against her."  And that alone would have been enough for the mosaic to reject her.

        Where was Its'shyn?  And what connection did he have with Selene?

[Its'shyn]

He remembered the fight.  The two mage-women battled with magic he had not seen before.  He felt the hunger and the cold sapping the last of his new-found power.  He allowed the real world to pull him back.  Its'shyn rose silent as death from Selene's shadow.  He stood with his hands clasped together and his head slightly bowed.  He wore no cloak and carried no weapons.  After a slight pause, he spoke, "Ladiesss.  I need to ssspeak with you.  Both of you."  And his smile, a predator's smile, spread across his face.

[Linnell]

        Linnell shrank back, she would have sprung from the bed if he had  not been standing so close, her dark eyes widening in fearful surprise to find Its'shyn standing in the room.  The sudden appearance from the dark areas of the room startled her, and she stared at him like a small animal facing a predator.  -Perhaps that isn't such an inappropriate analogy,- Linnell found herself thinking.  "Me?" she whispered.

[Its'shyn]

His golden, unblinking eyes never left Linnell's as he spoke.  "Yesss, you.  The ssshadowsss flock to you, and I mussst know why.  Isss it becaussse you are vampiresss?"  He watched Selene flinch at his statement.  "That isss what you were keeping from me before wasssn't it Ssselene?"  He allowed the shadows to creep around him like wisps of mist.  The room became darker as the light simply dimmed.  A sound like whispering wind rose to the edge of hearing.  Its'shyn's smile became deeper, and he showed his teeth.  The whispering started to become a collection of voices, each babbleing mindlessly.  The shadows drifted about the room, and a wall of darkness sealed off the doorway.  "Now.  Anssswer my quessstion."
 
[Selene]

"Its'shyn, this is not a good time. I will answer your questions later when things are less critical. Now go!" Selene said, her voice raised slightly in anger.

[Its'shyn]

Its'shyn turned to her. "Do not presssume to order me.  I have sacificed everthing for my power, and I will not allow this chance to ssslip through my fingersss.  I want the ssshadowsss to hear me asss they hear you, and obey me.  Nothing lessss will sssatisssfiy me."

[Selene]

"You don't know what you ask Its'shyn" Selene replied, a note of  exasperation entering her voice. "It takes time and some preparation, as well as being in a safe place. This is neither the place nor the time, for the full transformation. I can begin some of the preparation though."

Selene let a fang slip down and puncture her lip, bringing blood to lie there.

"Kiss me and taste my blood again, then we can finish it later. That I  promise."

She kissed Its'shyn briefly, letting him taste her blood.

"Now please leave, and return tomorrow night" Selene asked.

[Its'shyn]

He drank the blood from her kiss, and a greedy light filled his eyes.  "Your promissse isss good enough for me. Tomarrow night then.  I will be here."   His hungry smile was more frightening than before.  "I ssshall leave the two of you to your... talk."  He drew the shadows into himself, and sank into the darkness of Linnell's shadow.

[Selene]

Laying back on the bed, she cradled Linnell in her arms, and rocked her gently. "He's gone."

"Now how can we contact the other Politi?"

[Its'shyn]

He traveled quietly through the shadowlands.  He reveled in the way the shadows truly came to him.  Tomorrow he would meet Selene, but first he was hungry...
 
[Linnell]

        Linnell shook her head, and explained quietly that she knew of no way to contact the Politi.  She could only imagine that following Wyland's and her own disappearance a week before, Kallin and the others had gone into hiding.  And she knew better than to think that if the Church had not found them, she would be able to search them out.  (And Linnell feared the possibility that she was being used as bait for those who still survived, if any.)

        That having been said, there was little to talk about.  Linnell lay in Selene's embrace, shivering, and watched the grey twist through her colors.  And wondered when the blackness would come.
 

[The half-elf Darmon, an off-worlder ally of the Politi, took it upon himself to retrieve Linnell from the Dragon's Inn and bring her to the Politi, who have been in hiding in a farmhouse ten miles north of Jord (owned by Barnabas Portnoy, a lapsed cleric of a minor god, Tancred)  This scene is set the day after the festival/Cleansing and the subsequent riots.]

[Paul]

        Only the faintest rustle warned them, a brief shimmer in the mosaic that presaged the arrival of one born by a teleport  weave, one stitched by Deanna Foley into a plain cotton handkerchief.  A handkerchief given, only hours before, by Lanaera Koltke to the half-elf Darmon.  Paul, standing guard as always on the mosaic itself, summoned the other two mages with a thought as he lowered the mosaic into its resting phase.  As the first slim thread of grey appeared over the center of the floor, he swept the heavy drapes over the glass doors to the wraparound porch closed.  If Darmon indeed was bringing back Linnell, she could not survive the early afternoon sunlight pouring into the room.

        The thin line stretched from left to right, and rippled, and within seconds had spun itself out into a circle that widened and swept downwards in a hoop, redrawing the two within the weave.  A flash of cold from <between>, and then it was gone; in its place stood Darmon, and sheltered in one arm stood Linnell.  The girl lifted her head, and the sight of her wide, shadowed brown eyes, and the greyness surrounding her,  almost made Paul gasp.

[Darmon]

        Darmon felt a slight chill wash over him as he began to feel the effects of the teleport spell.  The two places seemed to merge briefly as the Inn faded out and the gallery faded in. The gallery seemed brighter, at least momentarily, as both the magical aura and the light in the room lessened.  He could see Paul in the room closing the drapes.  -I wonder how he knew to do that?- He wouldn't have done that unless he knew that sunlight was harmful to vampires.  These thoughts could wait until a later time.

[Paul]

        The mage stepped forward, then stopped as the girl shrank back, still within Darmon's embrace.  "Linnell," Paul said quietly, his eyes taking in the fact that she did not wear the single silver loop in her left ear.  "A'dalin."  But still she would not speak, nor move towards him, but stood shaking as if terrified.

[Darmon]

        Darmon was curious now as Linnell sank back into his arms.  It seemed to him, that she was afraid of Paul, a strange response considering she was (at least until recently) one of them.  His suspicions were further confirmed as he felt her tremble in his arms.  "What is the matter, Linnell?" Darmon whispered to her as he nodded in acknowledgement of Paul's presence.  It was at this point that Lanaera and Kallin entered the room from a doorway at the back of the Gallery.  Darmon turned and watched them enter, still confused at how to react to Linnell's unspoken fears.

[Paul/Kallin/Lanaera/Linnell]

        -Linnell,- Lanaera thought to herself, mouthing the girl's name without any breath behind it.  She crossed swiftly to stand behind Paul, and to his right, hands clasped tightly before her, trying to school her expression into cool collection.  A mere week before, Lanaera had sent the girl out with Wyland -- to be picked up by the Grand Inquisitor.  One of the two, her grandson, was lost beyond all recovery; the other had just come home.

        Kindred, and consumed by grey.  Lanaera could see the threads moving away from Linnell, whispering in displeasure, and the sight left the older woman breathless.  Kallin saw it, too, that much was obvious from the bleak expression in his eyes.  Thank the gods Paul had quieted the mosaic -- Lanaera could not have born to see it reject Linnell, too; time enough later to test for that.

        For her part, Linnell cowered in the circle of Darmon's arms, struggling to find words to explain to the half-elf why she was so afraid. Afraid of the other Politi, afraid of the threads, afraid of the mosaic. "What if they don't want me?" she whispered back, her voice shaking and barely audible.  Unable to work magic, and Kindred, one who fed on blood -- a beast.

        "Oh Linnell," Kallin breathed, and she only shook more when he spoke (noting with half a thought that he had shaven his beard since last she had seen him).  Unlike Paul and Lanaera, Kallin did not stop short, but continued to stand before her, taking her cold hands in his own without hesitation.  "How can you doubt that?"  She choked back another sob at the compassion in his voice and eyes -- at seeing it coupled with full knowledge of what she had become.  And again he asked, little more than a breath of air, "How can you doubt that?"

[Darmon]

        Darmon was surprised to say the least that Linnell had begun to trust him so much.  He was unsure how to respond to Linnell's actions.  She seemed to feel safe in his arms and he was glad that she was able to derive some comfort from his presence.  Darmon could understand what she was feeling to a small extent as he had some experience with cruel, cold- hearted, rejection. It was many years ago but not all that long at all.

        "That..does not seem to be the case.  What has happened to you was not your fault or your doing.  I would gather that some are more surprised by what has happened to you than others."  Darmon stole a quick glance at Paul, then at Lanaera.  "But I do not feel that you are any less loved than before."  At this he looked at Kallin.  "Kallin, I would like to know, as would Linnell I gather, if there exists a way to reverse what has happened to her?"  Darmon was immediately sorry he had asked that question aloud and in front of Linnell.  He cursed himself for not thinking before he spoke and hoped that there was as he knew it would be a crushing blow to Linnell if there was not.  He continued to hold Linnell as she made no move to break from his embrace.

[Kallin/Lanaera/Paul/Linnell]

        "I do not know," Kallin answered, eyes never moving from Linnell's face.  Her fingers clenched into fists in his grasp and her gaze dropped to the floor -- where the threads scurried away, and the grey continued to move in her colors.  "Whether she can be unmade as Kindred, or whether she can take the threads again -- I do not know."  He would have waited until later to discuss it with the girl, to tell her more gently that he, Lanaera and Paul had concluded nothing in the short time they had had since Deanna had told them what had happened in the alleyway.  But now or later, the answer would be the same -- they did not know.  And any attempt to evade Darmon's direct question would have given her that answer anyway.

[Darmon]

        Darmon had not been expecting this response.  He had thought that Kallin would have surely known what to do.  Darmon looked over to Paul and Lanaera.  As he wondered quietly if either of them knew and whether he should ask them he noticed that Linnell had made no move to disentangle herself from his embrace, though he was not holding her firmly. Darmon was at a loss for words and decided to see how Linnell was going react to all this before he did anything further.
 
[Linnell]

        Linnell wondered whether there would be any end to her trembling -- any end other than death.  She stood for several moments more next to Darmon, staring at the floor, feeling Kallin's hands warm on her own.  Where was her strength?  Where was her easy pride that had always kept her spine straight and her chin up?  Never had she shown weakness before Kallin, never had she dropped her eyes from his.  Yet she could not bear to look him in the face.  Kindred.  And worse than that, probably, she had attacked Deanna.

        But Kallin refused to release her hands when she tugged  half-heartedly to pull herself free, and after a few moments more she allowed him to pull her closer, into his own embrace.  "Dominti --" she tried to speak as she huddled against him, but he only shushed her, one arm wrapped around her shoulders, the other hand stroking her hair.  And when her legs buckled from the weight of her fear and loss, he caught her up with an arm behind her knees.  "Thank you," he said simply to Darmon, before looking to the other two mages.

        "Go," Lanaera breathed to Paul, "go with them."  But she herself did not move, made no step to follow as Kallin carried the girl from the gallery to take her upstairs to an interior room they had prepared.  After a moment more, and a silent question that she refused to answer, Paul followed.
 

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