Summer 4999, 07 Akamoth

On the last day, Oswall walked in the back with Shon, Alena and Ebonwing took point, and Ranito and Tristen conversed in the middle. 

"Eb was wrong," Oswall said, waiting until Shon arched an eyebrow down at him, to finish, "this isn't depressing, it's damn boring." And hot, and wet, and thus muggy. Frankly, it was miserable, but this bit of complaining was meant as a break from those oft repeated observations. 

They'd been attacked three times since entering the jungle, twice by drakwalves and once by draken, but those were standard enough not to count as interesting. Above them, Ryuuko twittered, which Os decided to interpret as an agreement. The little dragon's human half huffed but didn't comment further. Unlike Alena, Oswall wasn't the type to insist Shon participate with words. If anything, Os preferred Shon's quiet stoicism, it seemed a natural fit for the Hengist solder, and it allowed Oswall to rant to his heart's content. 

"Come on, man, you can't honestly tell me you like this shit. We spend most of our time planning for a job, then getting too it, only to have a few quick moments of excitement before packing up to head home and do it all over again."

Shon arched his other eyebrow, commenting, "All jobs are like that."

"Yeah," Os conceded while rolling a new smoke, "but even you have to admit that the travel and research is damn boring."

Shon shrugged, but was pretending hard enough to speak, "Bring a book." 

Os snickered, "Oh yeah? like one of your old fan compilations?" Now that was a genuine scowl! Oswall let out a little guffaw at Shon's expense, but consoled, "Na, I suppose those are out of date by now."

Three years previous, the team rescued a small horde of teenage sorcerers, all of whom practically hero-worshiped Shon. They'd spread their stories of the rescue across the Mages Guilds and eventually reached the Bards of Saint Domhnall. As the kingdom's entertainers -amongst other things- the storytellers had taken this new hero story and run with it, compiling fictional stories under official publication that sold like icecream in summer. Lucky for him, only a few recognized Shon from the stories, and popular attention had finally moved on to something else last year.

Shon ran a hand over his hair, but didn't comment again, so Oswall continued, "But this job is different. It doesn't end. And a possible death knight is the most exciting thing to happen since the war against central." Shon's scowl deepened as he stared into the distance. Damn, the big man was still as bothered by this mission as Oswall thought, though he was putting up a better front here than he did back in Deim. Shon was doing his damndest not to let the other see him sinking, so Os changed the subject,

"Unless you think the girls acting weird to be entertaining," Oswall nodded forward to the ladies in question and Shon's scowl drained, instead he furrowed his brow at the Rogue -even took a moment to look at the girls too- but then shrugged. 

Well, that answered that, at least to Oswall. If Shon hadn't noticed, then the weirdness probably had something to do with Alena's ongoing crush. The big man, so observant in other ways, was completely oblivious. "None of my business," Oswall mumbled to himself, lighting the new smoke and shredding the old into leaf litter. 

"You don't think they'll mind?" Shon asked, his eyes sweeping the trees -and the shadows watching from the branches. 

Oswall smirked, "They didn't three smokes ago." he used the fag to point out two more particularly stealthy barbarian hunters Shon probably hadn't noticed. Oswall watched their shadows slink away and grumbled, "not that anything could catch fire without magic here anyway." then he shouted to Tristen, "Yo, Boss! Looks like our escort doesn't think we need escorting anymore." 

Tristen looked around as if he could confirm something he hadn't seen in the first place, then called to Os, "Because you saw, or because we're close?" 

"The fuck am I supposed to know?" Oswall grumbled under his breath, though not quietly enough to avoid the disapproving look from Shon. Oswall rolled his eyes but answered loudly, "Probably both."

Tristen waited for Shon and Oswall to catch up before matching their pace, "Perhaps we should send Ebonwing and Ryuuko to find Ranger Tore befo-"

"That won't be necessary Sir Tristen of Saint Giorgos."

Oswall cursed, and Ryuuko whistled. Shon and Oswall both rolled away, coming back to their feet facing the speaker behind them while Tristen spun, hand on his cudgel. Ryuuko circled back around with a hiss and dive, talons bared and tail poised to strike. Shon barely managed to catch his familiar before it could attack the colorful creature. A snake with iridescent scales and matching feather wings.

Before joining the team, Oswall had attempted to spend most winters south, and he'd only ever heard legends of these strange feathered serpents. This one was longer than Ryuuko, though the pseudodragon had a larger wingspan. Oswall could only assume it was the Ranger-Sorcerer's, as the voice spoke from the snake again, "You're nearly there, and I'm-" the same voice changed location, calling from ahead of the team, "-here."

Alena and Ebonwing jumped in surprise, but Ranito let out an excited, "Oooo, so you've trained your element enough to cast some real magic?"

The feathered serpent flew over Tristen's head and all three men turned to follow its flight back to its human as she answered, "It gave me something to do while earning my clearance." 

Oswall huffed, putting his daggers away and studying the new comer. The Ranger woman had the dark skin of the region, but as they approached his gaze was immediately pulled to her vibrantly violet eyes, certainly not typical for the southern people. She smiled at Alena and Ebonwing, but as she looked their way her lip curled in disdain. Beside him, Shon was clamping his hand over Ryuuko's muzzle to stop its chittering, but defeated the purpose by letting slip his own quiet growl. 

Now that was out of character... Oswall could only remember one other occasion where the Hengist man had seemed to detest someone on sight. The barbarian water sorcerer Pia had elicited a similar response, but it didn't make anymore since now than it did then. They'd dealt with both Barbarians and Sorcerers without so much as a twitch of a reaction. So why was this different?

"None of my business," Oswall mumbled again.

Tore was addressing Ebonwing as they reached the ladies, "You're only about an hour out, but I must warn you, they aren't exactly looking forward to your visit." 

"Nothin' new there." Oswall announced, while Tristen offered his hand to Tore.

She took a moment to study the proffered hand, but shook it, then spoke to Oswall, "So you have some experience with the Tribes here. Good. But this is different. It was like they expected you, and were not happy about it." 

Tristen scowled, but nodded, requesting, "If you could lead the way Ranger Tore, we can discuss it as we walk." 

They started off, all but Shon, who fell back to take up the rear again -glaring daggers at the Rangers back. Her feathered serpent wrapped itself around her neck, looking back at them and hissing. So apparently the feeling was mutual.

Oswall slowed to walk with Shon, shredding his smoke and asking, "What's crawled up your ass? It's crowding the sword you usually keep up there."

"I don't know." Shon growled, then shook his head. Looking at the ground rather than the Ranger, he ran a hand over his hair and said again, in a whisper, "I don't know..." Ryuuko wiggled it's haunches before launching itself from Shon's shoulder, landing on Ebonwing's head to hiss quietly at the snake. 

Oswall shrugged, "You don't trust her. Fair enough. The gods gave us instincts for a reason." But shouldn't the gods touched feel something too? And they weren't nearly as good at acting 'normal' as Shon was. Maybe he was just that strained and had reached his limit faking it. 

Os spent the hour to the barbarian village debating if he should tell Tristen or Alena his concerns, but in the end decided they would notice if Shon's depression got bad enough to worry about, they wouldn't be able to help themselves. If Shon was fine enough to be functional, then Oswall would leave it be. "None of my business..."

From the rear, he caught some of what they were saying ahead. Apparently the tribe was only going to allow two of the team and Tore into the village. Obviously Tristen would be one, and everyone assumed Ebonwing would be the second, until they reached the settlement. 

Surrounded by an eight-foot wall of spiked logs, Os could make out the thatched roofs of the lowest buildings, and see the Barbarians watching from the others. Much like the rest of the provence, the village was built on stilts and in trees. Though unlike kingdom construction, most of these buildings lacked walls, consisting of platforms built beneath wide roofs. They had reed blinds that could be lowered like walls, but as today was only a lazy drizzle, they were open to whatever breeze they could get in the smothering heat.

At least one Tribesperson on each platform had an arrow nocked, and more than a few were already drawing on the approaching team. "And they knew we were coming?" Oswall asked around his smoke, blowing out a billowing puff and side stepping to stand behind Shon.

Tore smirked, "Perhaps the cold shoulder will help mitigate some of the heat." then she called up to the guards in Talkari. Os recognized a few words -or at least sounds. He spoke Common and was forced to learn Gashi, but also knew the strange slang language that people often used when doing work best kept in shadows. Colloquially known as 'thieves cant,' it stole a little from all ten of the original languages, both words and grammar, making it a linguistic nightmare to many. 

Tristen and Ebonwing stood side by side behind Tore, but plans changed when the gate opened enough to reveal four armed barbarians, who glared at the team, then demanded,

"No weapons, you will be searched." Tore translated with a shrug, but Tristen scowled.

"Master Sergeant, if you please?"

It was a good call. Oswall held his hand out to take Shon's sword as the soldier reluctantly removed it -and with it his sealing gem. He also removed his bag of holding rather than have it searched. Tristen did the same, passing his weapon and bag to Alena while the tribe's warriors whispered and Tore narrowed her eyes at them. 

Her familiar slithered its way down her body to wrap around her waist as Tore tapped Ebonwing's shoulder. Ryuuko snapped at the Ranger and her familiar hissed, but Ebonwing didn't seem to notice as she turned to cock her head at Tore, who said, "You would be better received..."

Ebonwing crossed her arms to say, "I doubt any of us are going to be well received." the tribes behavior was putting them all on edge. 

Shon and Tristen approached the warriors to be searched, and Ryuuko continued to knead Ebonwing's hair like a cat. With the team splitting up, it would stay with them.

Tore tried, "Perhaps your Mage?" furrowing her brow at Ranito instead. 

Oswall laughed and Ranito that answered, “Trust me young lady, as intimidating as my magic can be, it is nothing to that man unarmed”

***

Tore was confident that the tribe didn't mean her any harm. After all, they'd only agreed to see the kingdom team if she agreed to accompany them. As a sorcerer, she was considered holy, blessed by the gods. If she had been born a Barbarian she would've been a shaman, and probably could've still been a Druid...

She smothered that old pain and for the first time cursed the tribes reverence for elemental magic. How could they possibly disallow weapons, yet allow an unsealed sorcerer into their village? The warriors hadn't even touched him before realizing what he was, muttering "Icespeaker" in awed tones and patting him down with the shafts of their spears. 

Then again... Tore smirked as they entered the village -the warriors falling into formation around the two kingdom representatives- Maybe they'll keep him, use his cold for themselves. She imagined the big man tied in chains, his muscles slowly withering over years, and grinned. 

A small crowd had formed outside the only ground level building, glaring at the kingdom men as they parted for the warriors to escort them inside. The open hostility was worse than Tore expected, even for a Giorgos Paladin. Seeing those hate filled eyes, she wondered if the guards were actually meant to protect them.

The building had its shades down, offering some privacy for the meeting. Inside waited three people. A woman, a young teen, and an elder with cheeks painted like a stylized cat. The Druid inclined his head in respect, greeting, "Airspeaker," in Talkari. 

Tore bowed, turning to keep both the kingdom men and Barbarians in sight. Shon stood just behind and to the left of Sir Tristen, looking relaxed. The Paladin himself looked stiff, but only in the way that all Paladin's looked stiff. 

The chief didn't dismiss the guards, and Tore began the introductions, "May I present the representative of the king of Daanlin, Sir Tristen of Saint Giorgos." She didn't bother to introduce the Hengist underling, and continued in common, "Sir Tristen this is the Chief Swiftcat of the Purring Leopards, as well as her son, and their Druid Violetclaw." 

Tristen bowed a shallow nobles bow, and Shon lifted his hands, left fist in right palm. Swiftcat huffed, beginning to circle the kingdom men. Tore rolled her eyes. The Chief's son was the only one to catch her at it, hiding a grin behind his hand. Even the child knew the attempt at intimidation was an act, more a ritual than a show of hostility. Except... those outside hadn't been acting...Tore took a step further from the kingdom pair under the pretence of watching Swiftcat as she spoke. 

"So, you are here for our stories?" Swiftcat said more than asked, tapping her lip as Tore Translated, "You expect us to believe this? That your king would send warriors into our jungle for children's tales meant to cool hot nights?"

"Not at all Chief Swiftcat," Tristen answered openly, speaking slowly to give Tore time to translate. He did not turn with her pacing, maintaining his position except to follow with his eyes when possible. “We are here pursuing a group of Warlocks. Fugitives who are attempting to form an alliance with a powerful undead rumored to be in your jungle.”

Swiftcat did well not to respond to Sir Tristen's words until after Tore translated them, though her eyes twinkled with a suppressed smile when he'd couched his words to give them ownership of the land. Tristen continued as the chief circled back around to his front, "What we are looking for is anything that will assist us in-"

A whistle wrent the air and the Hengist man moved faster than a Druid could transform. Shon’s hand snatched the arrow from the air, and in the same fluid motion he spun, redirecting its flight back to the archer outside. The young man dropped, clenching his leg where the arrow protruded from his thigh. Two of the guards moved to shield their leaders while the other two turned their spears on Shon and Sir Tristan. Or tryed too. 

The warrior closest to Shon hadn’t managed to get his spear down before Shon was inside his reach, striking his nose with an open palm and tripping him before he could recover. He hit the ground hard, the wind knocked from his lungs, but Shon was already gone. The second guard aimed a thrust for Tristen, but the Soldier broke the head off the weapon, double stepping around the guard and twisting him into an arm lock with the end of his own broken spear held to his throat. 

Shon leveled his cold glare on the chief, who stepped back, shivering. No ice had manifested, but Tore couldn't remember the last time she felt this cold. “Hold, Master Sergeant.” his commander called. And just like that, Shon stopped, still as ice. Frost began to form on the spearhead and Tore swallowed. The ice Sorcerer hadn't needed his magic or a weapon, yet somehow Tore knew he could have continued, downing each of them in turn if Tristen hadn't stopped him.

If Sir Tristen had moved at all, then Tore hadn't seen it during the comotion. The Paladin Colonel addressed the Chief in the same relaxed stance he'd started in, “Chief Swiftcat. I do not believe this attack was orchestrated by you but I would have an explanation.” 

When Swiftcat answered, it was in Common, “I thank you for your understanding, it was indeed not planed, but we know why it happened.” 

Tristen nodded, “Let him go Master Sergeant,” The guard stumbled away, lips blue and checking his neck for blood. Shon dropped the spear head then resumed his post behind and to the left of Tristen, who continued to address the chief, “I’m listening.”

“A fortnight ago, even before the Airspeaker received your missive, another group of city men came asking for our assistance.” she was slowly relaxing -now that Shon wasn't staring her down- “they were polite and magical and told fortunes for our people and helped prevent a deadly accident.”

“They spoke with the voice of a god,” the shaman interjected in Talkari, “and they warned us that men from the kingdom would be coming, looking for them and seeking to sully their name for their own twisted desires.” he looked down his nose at them, narrowing his eyes to study their expressions as Tore translated, “they said that they sought a guardian of knowledge and that you would be seeking to destroy it to keep them from their goal.” 

"We have warred with your kingdom before," Chief Swiftcat said, "We do not wish to again, but neither will we be dragged into your affairs or be threatened."

Sir Tristen clenched his fists. Tore could only guess what he was thinking as he let the silence stretch before finally speaking, "I apologize if it seems we are attempting to invol-"

"You involved us when you thought to force your way into our land yet again." The Druid gave himself away, interrupting before Tore could translate, though he still spoke in Talkari. Only after she translated did he continue, "Tell us true, Son of Law, what will your kingdom do if they find such a monster? Claim its land with the excuse of protecting us? We know better."

And that's what it would come to. The Tribes generally judged individuals on their actions -which was how the Warlocks had managed to endear themselves- and yet they also had a sorted history with the Kingdom's Temples -which had only been flared by the Warlocks warning. The animosity was then further reinforced when the Warlock prediction -that the kingdom would come- seemed to come true.

The Paladin sighed, avoiding the Druid's question, instead saying again, "I am sorry that your people were pulled into this affair. You have my word as a Paladin of Saint Giorgos that what we say is true.” he took a moment to look at each of them, none looking particularly impressed by an oath on a god they didn’t follow, “Instead, I only ask that you and your people not interfere in this affair.”

Chief Swiftcat nodded solemnly, then gestured for her guards. Sir Tristen and Shon both bowed again before leaving the meeting house. Tore hesitated, asking in Talkari, "And if there really is a death knight?" A part of her knew she shouldn't care, it had nothing to do with her, and yet...

The Druid answered, "Then it has dwelt in this land longer than any of us have lived. If it were truly a danger then we would deal with it as we do all intruders in our land."

So be it, Tore thought, nodding respectfully and following the men out. "Where will they look next, I wonder?" Kumatz slithered its way up to her shoulders, resting its head on hers and letting its feathery wings drape over her hair with a little hiss and the flash of an image. Someone who may be able to point the kingdom in the proper direction.

But did Tore really want to risk her for them? For him? 

***

Ryuuko's head came up about the same time someone in the village screamed. Oswall watched as Ebonwing crouched as if to transform, perhaps fly into the settlement and make things worse. She hesitated when Ryuuko wrapped its tail around her neck, and stopped when Os threw a rock at her.

She turned to cock her head at him, but it was Alena who took her arm and said softly, "Have faith, we'll know if we're needed, and if not Ryuuko will tell us." The little dragon gave a confident whistle and Ebonwing seemed to deflate, asking,

"What do you think happened?"

"I think we'll find out soon enough," Ranito muttered, laying down a card and taking one to continue their game. 

Oswall snatched up the discarded card and layed out his winning hand before mumbling around his smoke, "Whatever it was, I'm sure it means we're about done here." 

It didn't take long to prove him right as the gate swung open only far enough for their companions and Tore to squeeze their way out. Alena handed the Paladin his belongings as he continued to march away, snapping at Ebonwing when she opened her mouth, "Later Druid, we're leaving."

Shon sighed in what sounded like relief when he took his sword back from Oswall, who refrained from asking for details until they were at least half an hour out. Heading back the way they came. A complete waste of time.

"The Warlocks charmed them." Tristen said as he continued the forced march.

"Literally?" Ranito asked, nearly tripping over a root as he took notes. 

Tristen ground his teeth and Os rolled his eyes, interrupting the Paladin's answer, "Does it matter? They aren't going to help us. As long as they don't get in the way-"

"They won't." Shon growled, seeming just as frustrated as Tristen. It was out of character enough that Alena and Ebonwing exchanged looks, and Ranito turned a few pages back in his notes to scribble something new. 

Tristen finally stopped walking, pinching the bridge of his nose and saying, "I agree. But that's still one less resource for us that they've already abused." 

Alena tried to stay on the bright side, "At least we know they were here. It might still narrow the search."

"Except, they can gate to nearly anywhere in an instant." Ranito reminded her.

"We can check out one of the areas Eb's friends squawked about," Oswall shrugged, "It's either that or go all the way back and call this a waste of time." Whether they went back to a kingdom town or not, Os knew they wouldn't be leaving this boiling jungle until they'd exhausted all of their sources, and probably not even then. Better to be efficient about it. He continued in a grumble under his breath,  "maybe if we stay long enough we'll get to experience the livable season."

The others ignored the complaint and it was Tore who spoke up first, "So... you expected them to know of something, or somewhere, suspicious enough to house a death knight?"

"Do you know of such a place Ranger Tore?" Tristen asked, his tone containing the hint of a plea. 

She hesitated, and her familiar flicked its tongue in her ear with a little hiss. She scratched the bottom of its chin then took a bracing breath before saying, "Perhaps. But I also know someone who may be able to help more..."

*** 

It was much easier to travel alone when you weren't actually alone. El might still be too young to carry more than Kylana and could only do so for a few hours, but that was still a few hours in which the pair traveled in a straight line, resting in places confirmed safe from the sky. 

The hardest part, once they were in sight of the sprawling double layer of Deim, was finding a stable willing to board the dragon-horse. It seemed to be an even split whether or not a stable manager would be enthralled by the rare magical creature, or terrified despite their historically benevolent nature. 

Of course, flying over the walls wasn't an option. Kylana wanted to make a good impression, not get them killed by paranoid Paladins. She went so far as to land El an hours unmounted walk from the walls, musing over her own abundance of caution, "Afterall, I'm a Paladin too now..." A Paladin of a fallen order, the first in nearly five thousand years...

She felt the faintest of calming pulses in her heart and heard a hint of words in her mind, Someone must be first... 

"Yeah," She spoke out loud, though it was unnecessary for communicating with her Patron -her spiritual father- "Its just weird that it's me." She'd been an acolyte of Saint Bjarki for two years before awakening as a Sorcerer four years ago. She'd killed someone...

Kylana shook her head -thinking a prayer for her lost friend- and moved past the memory in her musings. They were going to seal her magic, but a magical storm and erupting volcano had destroyed her village. And saved her from their inks.

It had also killed her, which was why Kylana held her breath as she presented her papers to the gate guard. It wasn't necessary, of course, the records taken at gates were used to track people after the fact. The guard would have no way of knowing she had been mistakenly declared dead. And besides, he was too infatuated with El to do more than glance at her papers. 

He did call a second guard over to ask if they should allow the flying horse in, and a crowd started to form inside the city to get a good look. Kylana did her best to smile at all of them, praying that the new guard wouldn't notice the long gap in entries where years of training should've been. 

"If it helps at all," Kylana interrupted the guards debating with each other, "I was intending to stable him in the outer city." 

"You'll need to register with the Mages Guild in the inner city." the second guard informed her, furrowing his brow.

Kylana widened her smile, not wanting to insult but saying, "We are magically bonded Corporal, we can handle being physically apart. And he knows better than to give your stable hands a hard time."

"Um... We can take him..." A young boy squeezed his way past the first layer of gawkers to stumble closser and attempt an awkward bow, "I work at the stable just down the way." he pointed down the street abbuting the wall, and Kylana turned curious eyes back to the guards. 

The second hummed, mumbling, "There's no law against it..." 

"Should we call for the Captain?" the first whispered. 

Kylana did her best to stay calm. A Paladin of Saint Giorgos... she would have to face one eventually, but was she ready now? With her papers a mess and very nature questionable?

To her great relief the Corporal shook his head and signed off on her papers, saying as he returned them, "There will be no flying within the city. Normally you could wait to report to the Guild, but I have to ask you to do so after boarding your mou- familiar..." He eyed El and the scaled horse snorted, making the younger Private jump.

"As you say. Thank you Corporal." Kylana bowed in gratitude then lead El toward the young stable hand. Was he even old enough to be working? Either he'd only recently reached maturity or his family owned the stable, but either way she was grateful.

She smiled down at him, though he wouldn't notice, considering he never took his eyes off El. "Would you like to lead the way-" 

"Oh yes! Sorry, sorry, this way!" he started off at a run, and Kylana's grin widened as she shouted after him,

"-from his back!" 

The boy stopped so suddenly he nearly face-planted on the packed dirt road. Kylana laughed as she approached, El prancing beside her, holding his wings up and showing off now that the danger was over.

"Really!?" the boy shouted, but then shrank, speaking quietly, "We... we aren't supposed to ride customers mounts..."

Kylana reached him and El rested his head on her shoulder, stretching his wings forward, as if to shield them from view. Holding her finger to her lips, Kylana said, "That's true, but I am not a customer yet, and I've just given permission." 

That was enough to convince him. The boy was so excited he shouted, "Please, oh yes please!" then actually hugged her. Kylana stiffened and the boy let go with hardly a squeeze, whispering a quiet "Ow..." then, with the innocence of youth, he looked up at her to say, "You are very hot. Like, very very hot." he rubbed his arms but at least he didn't seem too upset. 

"The hottest I've met," -not that she'd met many- "and I apologi-"

"Can I still ride him?" the boy interrupted, looking at El with concern and adding, "Is he hot too?" 

"Yes you can, and no he isn't." Kayala answered with a laugh, then knelt on one knee, offering her other as a stepping stool for the small boy to scramble up. He fumbled with the lack of mane or bridal, and Kylana could see the internal debate on if he should hold on to El's horns or not before he laid down on his belly to wrap both arms around the dragonnel's neck. 

"Why don't you have a saddle?" he asked as they started off.

"I planned to have one made here actually." Kylana answered, only half her attention on the boy now. Insead she looked toward the city center, eyeing the tallest buildings peaking over the inner walls while he rambled about knowing 'the best' saddler in the outer city.

Somewhere in this metropolis, unbeknownst even to themselves, was a Chosen of Yoryuu, and Kylana needed to find a way to wake them up...

***

"This is it, Dekishi." Pia said between chattering teeth, switching to mental conversation to avoid biting her tongue, 'Get in, hurry.' 

As cold as she was, her Kelpie familiar was considerably worse for the weather. The frost covered water-horse eagerly splashed into the hotspring, diving down to the bottom to warm his bones while Pia stripped as fast as she could. They'd followed the river for as long as possible. Up two waterfalls to the near peaks of the stone curtain separating Shutha from Talkar.

On the same night she'd considered turning back -trying a different Chosen- Pia had dreamed of this hotspring. Her god had given her the missing information she needed to decide what to do next.

Pia was cold enough to flinch when she entered the springs warm waters, thinking to Dekishi, 'How do you suppose we'll find them?' Dekishi wouldn't be able to go far from the spring and Pia wasn't about to wander the mountains without him. 

"May... maybe they wi... will come to us..." she shivered, praying to her mother for more guidance. She didn't actually expect an answer, but this time she got one, a soft word seemed to float up from her own mind,

'Wait.'