: Slinks back in quietly :

I can only apologise for the fact this has taken so long, and thank you for your patience and your kind reviews of Midnight and Dawn – they're massively appreciated. I've not been happy with this chp, for well, ages, and I've had so much on at uni I just didn't get the chance to fix it, so I decided to rework it almost entirely at about 3am this morning… (because of that, there might be some wee grammar mistakes I haven't spotted… sorry. Then again, I usually write essays at this time of day anyway, so I might be alright!)

Disclaimer: As much as I wish that Daine, Numair, the darkings and everyone else mentioned in this were my creation, as we all know, they're not. They belong to Tamora Pierce. Also, because I've been sticking as closely as possible to canon with the Awakening Series, I've had to use some dialogue from the text… Oh, and I blame the duck conversation entirely on those new Hovis ads which are absolutely brilliant. And if you're outside the UK and you don't have a clue what I'm on about, then you're missing out!

Picks up almost exactly where we left off – Numair has now tackled the Spidrens, and well... I'm sure you can work it out. I'll leave you to Numair's ramblings!

---

Breathlessness.

No.

I cannot help myself.

My lips cover hers, wondering at the heat that flows between us. I can barely focus on a thought; I can feel my heart pounding in my chest, my Gift still pulsing through my veins. I can feel her heart crushed against mine. Oh Gods. I feel light headed at the very thought of what I am doing. I pull away.

"No," she murmurs, hands in my hair and brings me back to her. My sweet Magelet. I kiss her gently, trying to memorise these feelings, sensations as they present themselves to me. My arms round her, hands stroking her back. Hers buried in my hair, fingers pressing my skull. Holding her up.

I thought she was gone.

This is wrong; it goes against everything I've told myself for the past six months.

This is so right. This is what I've wanted for so long.

Think of her.

She surrounds me. I cannot but think of her.

I lose myself in her.

She is shaking in my arms. I pull away and carry her to a seat, letting my own trembling knees rest. Drawing her hair from her face, I struggle to keep my nervous tremors from display. "Goddess bless. Magelet, I thought I'd lost you."

She turns her face into my chest as I press my lips against her wild curls, holding her tightly in my arms, not wanting to let go. I thought…

No matter. She is safe now. I am holding her in my arms. Nothing will harm her here, I will ensure it.

I cannot believe myself. My own sweet Daine is wrapped in my arms. This was never to happen. This was something I was to prevent. I have failed.

I have never been so happy to have failed a challenge I set myself.

My heart is pounding in my chest against her cheek; I can feel it. Her warm body is soft in my arms, her hair lightly tickling my cheek. I contemplate my actions. Will there be repercussions?

There are always repercussions. Will they be welcome ones? Will Daine regret our kiss, or will she respond? I can only pray for the latter. I squeeze her tightly in my arms. That she has not moved from them yet would surely mean that her reaction will be positive. Her kiss was positive. Her kiss was hungry. I cannot help but want more.

I return to more pressing matters. We need to eat, drink and rest, I tell her. We need to relocate the path. I need her, although I do not tell her this.

She does not answer. For a moment I worry she has been injured more seriously that I thought. I worry she regrets our actions and is too embarrassed to move. I wonder if she feels as overwhelmed as I do.

She is asleep.

For the moment we need shelter. Soon the light will echo round this great ravine and we will be unable to move.

I call the darkings to me and they trickle up my leg and into my belt purse as I get to my feet. Bending awkwardly I gather my staff from the ground, slide my pack up my arm and over my shoulder, ensure Daine is secure in my arms. I feel an overwhelming rush of protection for the woman in my arms. I am aware vaguely of how close I came to losing her forever, not only for my love but for my friendship. I will contemplate it later though; for now I need to find somewhere for us both to rest.

Daine is light; she has always had a slim body. Nevertheless, as I carry her I fumble for a secure hold, trying to be gentle as I grip her and not add to her injuries, whilst ensuring I don't drop her entirely. I am exhausted. . With my Gift consumed by my spell to find Daine and unexpected battle with spidrens, I am now in the situation where my physical ability has been impeded, and there is a risk I will not manage to find somewhere before the sun becomes too strong. I re-adjust my grip on her, trying not to jolt her too severely.

"Hurry," Leaf scolds. I glare at the darking, who has emerged from my belt purse and is moving ahead. Jelly stays in the pouch, clearly feeling unsafe in a world that has proved so unsettling so far. I cannot help but agree.

I edge my way round the cliff-side, my feet crunching on the narrow stretch of gravel below me, trying to avoid the river. Finally, as I round the corner, I find us a suitable shelter. A small hollow in the rock, deep enough to provide us with room for us both to sleep, or Daine in the least to lie out, a fire, and some small bushes nearby that will serve for a privy. It is enough to protect us from the glaring light of day.

Exhausted, I lie Daine out gently on a slab of rock, careful not to jar or bump her in anyway. I take the opportunity to examine her body for injury. Her clothes are shredded and sprinkled with blood. Her cuts however, seemed to have stopped bleeding, reassuring me for the moment that she has no significant external injury. This does not stop me worrying though. She could have broken ribs, internal damage, concussion. She would surely have mentioned though, if she had been in severe pain. But then, Daine has certain stoic tendencies, for both mental and physical pains. Can I be sure?

If Alanna was here, she would say I was being ridiculous. If Alanna was here, she could have treated Daine's injuries whilst she slept.

Of course, if Alanna was here, Daine wouldn't have gone over the edge in the first place. She would have caught her as she fell, and not leave a young girl to go round Chaos bile on her own, when it so clearly affected her. Alanna would never have got into a situation as foolish as this, I chastise myself. I am well aware that if Alanna were here, she would vehemently argue with that point.

Alanna would look after Daine better than I would. Daine is merely a girl! Alanna realises this. She does not expect her to do more than she is capable of, yet I am fawning over her and confusing her with my emotions. This is another reason why I must not let this continue with Daine. I must end it before it begins, even.

Maybe I can pretend she dreamt it. Hallucinations caused by the stress of the moment.

Now I really am being ridiculous.

If Alanna was here, I think, I wouldn't have kissed Daine.

I cannot help but feel pleased that my red-headed friend is not accompanying us.

Daine shifts in her sleep, her face contorting with pain as she does so. Suddenly wishing vehemently that Alanna is indeed here, I proceed to examine Daine for signs of internal injury. Maybe my worries are unnecessary. Regardless, I cannot relax. Gently I run my fingers over her ribcage, pressing gently, feeling for any obvious brakes. She moans slightly as I brush my fingers over her, but when I retrace the same path to see if it is from pain, she merely sighs and I smile slightly, a single knot of tension loosening in my stomach.

I unfasten my cloak from around my neck, and folding it up neatly, I slide it under Daine's head to act as a cushion against the hard rock. Gently I ease my hand out from underneath her, and take a moment to softly trace her features with my fingertips. When she wakes, she might regret this. This might be my last chance… I lean my head down towards her, hesitating for a moment above her lips before finally gently brushing mine against hers. The contact is only for a second, but I know I will carry this memory with me for a lifetime.

I think I will sit with her for a while. She needs to rest, and although I know I need mine too if I am to recover from draining my Gift, I want more reassurance of her health. Also, I need to make something for us to eat, and to work out our location on Weiryn's map.

I kneel in front of her as she sleeps. The darking emerges from my belt purse and Jelly slides up my arm.

"Safe?" the darking asks in its quivering voice.

Are we? Will we truly be safe until we return home? Until after the war has finished? We still have so much to face in these Realms before we even reach the Dragonlands, and even then, we will not know if the dragons will take us back to our Realm, despite Rikash's suggestions. Before then we have to somehow cross the Sea of Sand, where sand could tear our skin from our bodies, and sun could scorch us, if the Stormwings cannot find someway to help us.

"Safe," I tell Jelly, stroking the darking gently with my finger to reassure it. We will have to be.

It dawns on me that during this war, during the time I have known this young woman even, that we have come to expect the unknown, the stuff of myth and legend to come before us. Before I met Daine, I never thought, dreamed maybe, that anyone could have so much wild power as she, or that she could do so many things with it. Certainly, she has gone beyond my expectations. Without the help of the Badger God and various scrolls we have uncovered together in the university, Daine would not be as progressed as she is now. Maybe she is at the reaches of her training. Maybe there is no more for Daine to learn.

Never, either, would I have expected that I would be playing an important part in the raising of a young dragon, have conducted experiments with a basilisk, or be on speaking terms with a Stormwing. Although, even after the appearance of Immortals in the Mortal Realms, I could not have expected the latter. That alliance is Daine's doing.

I know full well the extent of assistance Daine has brought to Tortall. Without her aid, we might not have escaped the siege at Pirate's Swoop in tact. Her advanced warning of the arrival of raiders was invaluable. Neither, without Daine's insistence of going to the aid of the Long Lake Pack, would we have thwarted Ozorne's attempts at rebellion in Dunlath. Carthak would not be rid of Ozorne now if it was not for Daine's actions. No, Daine's skills have been invaluable to Tortall. Countless times she has been able to use her friends amongst the People to act for our benefit, at high risk to themselves. She can detect the presence of Immortals before they can be seen; giving us advanced warnings of possible threats to our safety. No, I am without doubt that if Onua had not discovered Daine in a marketplace in Cria, that Tortall would have been devastated by war and Immortal attacks.

I would be lost in the darkness of death without her.

She has done so much for us, and yet she is so young. Now though, as I study her sleeping face, I can see the affect that this war has had upon her. She is tired; I can see that from the dark smudges under her eyes, which I know are mirrored in my own face. I know she worries for Kitten and Cloud and her animal friends at home, although she does not tell me so. I know that her dreams trouble her, giving her worrying images of our friends at home, and that Ganiel visits her, as he has done me, in her sleep.

And still during this, from her home being raided by bandits and her only family killed, to now, when she has finally met her father, when we our trapped in a Realm not our own, far from home, and with no guarantee we will ever return, she has blossomed, not only within her skill as a mage, but as a young woman and a person. She is beauty; I know she has several admirers at home. The way in which she has matured has impressed many, but I know that the head on her shoulders was always old for her years. She had experienced more at the age of twelve than most have in a lifetime; finding her family's bodies and avenging their deaths, being betrayed by those she thought she could trust. No, Daine has always been old beyond her years in many ways, but still she has a naïve quality to her, an innocence that cannot be broken. Once again I feel a strong protectiveness for her, stroking hair from her face as she sleeps. We have been through so much together, my Magelet and I. I fully believe that my grandchildren would not believe the stories I have to tell them, if I survive this war to have them, claiming instead that their Grandda has gone mad. Maybe I will. Maybe I already have, as Daine sometimes claims. I smile, remembering her kiss.

The bottom drops from my stomach as I remember the sheer horror that flew through my body as I realised she had fallen. I came close to losing my Magelet today. She could have died. Despite my best attempts at keeping her safe, she might have not survived. Had she fallen, say several metres upstream, she could have fallen on rocks, her body dashed at the bottom. Had I not found her using my focus, those spidrens could have captured her and she could already have been on her way to Ozorne's 'mercy'. I might never have seen her again. It would have been my fault if she'd died. I would never have been able to forgive myself, knowing I could have saved her.

Now though, is not the time to ponder the possibilities. Daine survived, and I found her in time to keep her from Ozorne. She is lying asleep next to me, her chest rising and falling with life. Her heart is pounding within her body, her pulse strong and vibrant. Daine is very much alive.

I sigh as my shoulders sag with tiredness. For all my exhaustion I have so far staved off sleep as I watch over her. Now I must rest. I will be no use to Daine if I am incapable of moving. Groaning, I tear myself away from my sweet and begin to ready our food. I rummage through my pack, thankful that I always carry our cooking gear (I argue it is too heavy for her, she growls and tells me that just because she is female she is no weakling, and then when I offer her it, she insists I keep it anyway, to 'preserve my male pride'), and retrieving a small pan from the bundle, I fill it with water from the river and make a small fire to cook over. My Gift is so used up I cannot even fuel a fire, and it has been a long time since I started a fire in the normal way. Eventually though, after much coaxing and cursing, I have a fire hot enough to cook on, and the water simmers gently as I add the ingredients for the soup. As I wait for our meal to cook, I lean back and rest against the rock. I let exhaustion gnaw at me, and I allow my eyelids to flutter shut for a moment. Just a moment.

---

A voice pulls me from my dreams. For a moment I think that this has all been a dream, that we are safe in our respective beds in the Mortal Realms, that this has merely been a far flung fantasy of mine given life by Ganiel, God of the Dream, King of the Nightmare. My eyes open to the deep shade in our makeshift camp, the glare of daylight bouncing off rocks outside, slowly creeping into our shelter, and I know it is not. I'm not sure whether I'm sad or relieved.

"Very good," I tell the darkings, our food ready. She is awake. How am I to handle this?

"How in the name of Shakith did you find me?"

I lie. "It was merely a simple magic, Daine –"

"Mouse manure." I wince. I have taught her too well for her to believe this. "D'you think I've lived all this time with mages without knowing what it takes to find someone and go to them?"

No. I know she knows. There is no way around this. I have to tell her, I have to expose myself to her. And hope she doesn't notice. Or hope she will. "I had a focus," I mutter, barely audible, trying to display it as normal and everyday.

"A focus?" she queries. I have taught her this. "Something of mine to connect us?"

I wish I hadn't. "Yes – and I'm glad I had it." This is true – without it, she could be lost to me forever.

"Yes – but – may I see it?"

Once again, the conflict within me begins. Show her, and there will be no doubt as too your feelings for her. Do not show her, upset her, and possibly lose her friendship. I prefer the risk of the first possibility to the second.

I reach out to her, praying she will not reject me. My spell vanishes and the physical manifestation of my love for her falls into her open palms. I cannot look at her as she studies the object for several moments, my heart literally in her hands. Eventually she hands it back to me, and I cannot help but feel the anxiety that tugs in my chest and stomach.

I have to explain. I make the locket disappear again, as if this futile action can take back everything we have done, stop this from going further.

I try to turn away from the subject, readying food for all of us. My hopes that she will be distracted, however, are in vain. I know this; I expect it of her to enquire more. I tell her what happened to me, my stomach wrenching painfully again at the memory of returning to her to find nothing.

Daine sits next to me, moving so close I have to move my arm to accommodate her. The fact she is wrapping herself in my arms must surely be a positive sign. I shake with the possibilities.

She notices. "You're trembling," she murmurs as she swallows a spoonful of her soup.

"I'm only tired," I say, for I still cannot bring myself to tell her the truth. "I used my entire Gift to reach you."

She tells me the unthinkable, that I should have left her. My body tenses at the thought. This I could not have done, regardless of the strength or type of my feelings for her. "If I'd lost you and kept my power, I would hate myself. Eventually magic returns, even after a draining. I had no way of knowing if you would."

She smiles at me, her lips soft and tempting. I struggle to restrain myself as she tells me what I have been longing to hear. "It would take more than falling off a cliff to keep me from you." That simple sentence wraps itself around me and beats down my restrictions. I kiss her, wanting to show her the depth of my feelings without words, convince her of my love. I stop when I feel her gasping and trembling in my arms. I remind myself she is injured and pull away, reaching for my pack where Sarra's medicine is. I turn back to find her pulling her shirt off.

"Daine!" She can't – it's –

"What?" her voice shows no sign of understanding.

"You – we aren't – you should be clothed!" I finish, stumbling. Again she queries my order, and I realise that finding myself in a situation such as this is the real reason that I haven't told her. I want to protect her innocence. I try to put my feelings into words. "It just doesn't seem right. I feel that I'm – taking advantage of your innocence. A man of my –" I search for the right words, not wanting to say them but knowing I have to "years, and reputation –"

She doesn't let me finish. I try to explain to her the conflict that has been in my head and heart since Midwinter, the reasons I have not told her, what I'm trying to save her from.

"Do you love me or not?" she demands finally

"That is not the topic under discussion." For some reason I don't want to tell her the extent of my feelings, the truth behind my actions. I wonder how it is that even now, when I have known myself for so long, that I am reluctant to say the words to her that I have thought every day. She strips off her shirt regardless of my objections, and for a moment I cannot help but stare at the soft skin of her back. I have longed to see this for so long, but now I don't want to, not marred by scratches and cuts, not with the pale white skin turned purple with bruising. Not in a cave in the Divine Realms when we are far from home and my love for her and her feelings for me an unknown substance. I being to clean her cuts, feeling her flinch under my touch.

"We're not talking about love? What are we talking about, then? Canoodling?" I realise that my reluctance to elaborate is a mistake.

How can she think that of me? I should have told her I love her from the start. "Daine! Is that what you think I want? Sex?" I know I am shaking with fury, filled with anger at the thought, disappointed that she could think that way of me. My reputation has preceded me.

"It isn't?" She strips off her breeches, and I realise then, too late, that her innocence has already gone, destroyed by the events of her past and the actions of men both around and towards her. That is partly my fault, for I have not shown in the past a commitment to any one woman. My affairs are notorious.

She grabs my locket. "You're in love with me?" she asks.

I cannot face her, now she knows. I have been exposed.

"Love's fair wondrous. Where's the harm?" she asks.

I try to explain 'the harm' to her once again. "You're so young, Daine. I knew that if I spoke, you might think yourself in love with me, you might ma –"

I have gone too far.

"Marry?" she gasps. "Marry you?" I cannot help but wince at the rejection and shock in her voice.

I try to cover my mistake. "One day you'd look at me and see an old man. You'd want a young one." I try to hide the plaintive tone in my voice, but this is too much for me. My legs shaking, as much from tiredness as emotion, I walk down to the river – I cannot bear to be near her now she knows. I sit in silence as I contemplate my actions. What should I have done differently? What can I do to rectify it? Should I merely attempt to return our relationship to our old way? Could that happen now she knows?

She knows.

The thought echoes round my head, and I feel slightly ill at the thought that my greatest secret has finally been exposed, and to the one that it pertains. I remember something Alanna had said to me months ago, before the war had truly begun.

"If it looks like a duck, walks like a duck and sounds like a duck, it's a duck Numair," she had told me.

"Unless it's Daine," George put in with a smile while his wife bit back a laugh.

I had glared at them both. "I don't see how this is helping the situation."

Alanna sighed heavily. "Numair, you're in love with the girl." Even now I can feel the way my features blanched and the wave of nausea that had rolled over me at the thought that someone else knew. Not only that, she had guessed.

"Your point?" I tried to continue valiantly. There was no point trying to deny these things to Alanna or George - Alanna was more than likely to threaten to beat it out of me.

"Tell the lass," George had smiled. "It's only fair." Like the easiest thing in the world. Like there were no risks.

That argument had continued the way it had with Broadfoot. I argued she could not be coerced and I refused to face what was certain rejection. The Lioness had argued that Daine would be the last person to reject me. Maybe she was right.

Maybe Daine is far more willing to accept me than she should be.

It could all go wrong from here. I could lose everything. I could lose Daine. My student, my friend, my companion, my love. My Magelet.

"Can't we just go on as we have?" Her voice startles me out of my musings. She wants to return to how it was. That is something I can cling to. "This is a fair weight to carry when things are so – mad."

I try to smile as I face her. "That is certainly true."

"I know I love you." My heart leaps in my chest. "Maybe I always have –"

And comes crashing back down. "Which is what I was afraid of."

"Once we're home – once the war's done," she amends, ignoring me, "we can work it out. We'll talk then."

It does, however, sound promising. I kiss her gently as I stand. "Indeed we will."

The sun gleams on the walls of the canyon, heat bouncing from them.

Regardless, my Magelet and I will face the day together.