Kelton woke from a dead sleep, barely recognizing his name. Lilly's hands were shaking his shoulders in desperation.

"What?" Kelton asked as awareness of the world fought to return.

"You must dress," Lilly said with haste. She placed his clothes on the blanket. "They are searching and will be here soon.

Kelton rubbed his eyes trying to force out the sleep that struggled to remain. He had nodded off again, his mind and body still recovering.

"Searching?" He asked.

"For you," Lilly replied. "Mother says you need to leave. You can't be found here. She will stall them as long as she can. Hurry."

"How do they know I'm here?"

"Who knows? The King's Own are searching the city, and the Brethren are with them. You must not get caught." Lilly pushed Kelton's clothes closer to him. It was the fear in her eyes and the mention of the Brethren that got him going.

Kelton pulled his pants under the blanket and put them on. When he swung his feet out, Lilly began to sheath his feet in his foot wraps. He marveled at her skill, tight but not smothering. He was happy he had apologized to her earlier as Tillyen had asked. It bonded them as friends in a world full of enemies.

"It is dark out. I am supposed to take you out the back," Lilly said as she helped him into his boots. "Mother thinks you can make it out of the city while they search inside." Kelton adjusted his shirt, wishing he had more overclothes for the weather he was sure to face. He should have risked going back for his pack.

"Is it still snowing?"

"Nay. It stopped midday." Lilly looked up at Kelton with panic in her eyes. "You will come back, right?"

"I don't know," Kelton replied. He decided lying was a waste of energy. "I'm not who..."

"You have to be," Lilly pleaded. "You are supposed to change everything. I don't want to be in this house. I don't want this anymore." She held up her wrist, displaying her Wilted Rose. Kelton could see a mist forming in her eyes. He couldn't be responsible for everything. He barely handled saving Rebecca.

"I don't now see how I can change your fate, but if I figure it out, I will be back." There. A promise without a guarantee. It was the best he could do. It brought out Lilly's smile and earned him a hug. She wiped her eyes and held out his cloak. Kelton stood and adjusted his clothing and sheathed his waist blade. It was all he owned, besides a sword buried in the snow. That was if he could find the tree again. Kelton was pulling his cloak on when he sensed people entering the building.

"I think they're here," Kelton warned Lilly. She looked at him with confusion. "Trust me, five people just came in."

"You can..."

"There is no time," Kelton said, avoiding the explanation. Lilly nodded, and seriousness replaced confusion. She took his hand in hers and lead him into the hall. He pulled her back as his sense detected one of the people, soldier most likely, crossing the other end. He nodded when it was safe, and Lilly took him back to the larder in silence. Kelton could feel someone outside, just past the door. A sentry most likely, to guard against retreat. One man was better five. Kelton drew his dagger to help stifle the fear that was growing in his mind.

"It is all I have so use it well," Lilly whispered as she placed a silver in his free hand. "Remember, you promised to come back." There was no time to argue the finer points of not being the Answer. Kelton had no desire to douse her hope. She was too sensitive for the truth. He nodded and signaled for her to return to main portion of the house. She smiled, pleased with his acknowledgment and retreated. Kelton pocketed the silver, took a deep breath and exited the nighthouse, dagger first.

It wasn't as cold as Kelton remembered and the air was silent and clear of snowflakes. The moon lit the knee-deep snow, successfully battling the darkness for supremacy. A man, barely out of boyhood, stood an arm's length away, shocked at Kelton's sudden appearance. He was wearing the King's blue. His sword was sheathed, his hand still on the pommel as he stared at the dagger before him, his mouth moving as if he was having trouble deciding whether to shout or not.

"I do not wish to fight," Kelton whispered, sensing only fear from the soldier. The man looked up from the dagger, his eyes widening as he saw Kelton's face and the scar that marked him. The soldier nodded slowly and removed his hand from his sword. An agreement, at least for the moment. Kelton backed away along the wall toward the south.

"No," the soldier whispered and pointed toward the north. "We've already searched back there. Go that way." Kelton stopped, his head tilting as he considered the man. It was the first soldier he met that didn't desire him dead.

"Truth?" Kelton asked. He wasn't sure why he asked. If it were a trick, the man would surely lie.

"Follow my tracks," the soldier continued, pointing to the disturbed snow behind him. His voice was barely above silence. "Hurry." Kelton sheathed his blade. If the man was lying, then he could always draw it again. It helped that he sensed no one in the direction the soldier pointed.

"Thank you," Kelton whispered as he walked past the soldier.

"Goddess protect you," the soldier whispered back. It was the first time Kelton thought she truly did. He moved, using his sense and eyes, following the man's tracks. It made sense to be where they thought him not and to leave no new path in the snow. It was a wonder to think there was one of the King's Own who didn't want to end him. Kelton paused when he reached the next building and looked back. The soldier was leaning against the nighthouse, silent and seemingly at ease with the decision to let Kelton move on. Maybe he was hope for more than just the commoners. The thought was oppressive since he didn't consider himself a solution to anything.

Kelton felt outward, sensing groups moving about. His memory of arriving was weak, but what he believed to be his entry point was now blocked by a group that would be difficult to avoid. The full moon and fresh snow were working against him. If there were Brethren in the group, he had little hope exiting the city that way. He decided to move into and through the city, using his sense to avoid soldiers and luck to avoid the Brethren.

It became hard for Kelton to discern between the people in buildings and the ones outside. The deeper into the city he went, the less confident he became about his sense. He had never seen so many structures. Smells began to collide, some pleasant, most not. When he rounded one small structure his nose was assaulted by a foul odor wafting from a cracked door. Lots of people meant lots of waste, and he had found one of the disposal points. He moved past it quickly, covering his nose as best he could. There were simply too many people too close together.

Kelton ceased to worry about his tracks. The deeper he went into the city, the more trodden the way. He would stop for moments and let people pass by as he hid in the darkness created by the buildings. All were dressed warmer than him. He envied their thick firs and cloth wraps. His wraps were two days south with his pack, probably picked over by soldiers or Brethren.

The deeper into the city, the more the people became a jumble. Kelton's second sense couldn't separate and define well. He lost confidence in his ability to decide if people were inside or out of structures. In some directions, judging distance became difficult as if it were viewed through fog. The sense of one overlapping the sense of many others, all moving and pulsing to the point of uselessness. There were too many people packed too deeply in every direction. It was an uncomfortable feeling.

In his haste to move through the city, Kelton left the safety of an alleyway onto a well-traveled thoroughfare he had first thought empty. His sense had tricked him. There were blue cloaks to his right, traveling toward him en masse. Kelton turned to his left seeing townsfolk moving away from the soldiers. He attempted to blend in. He pulled on the hood of his cloak, further sinking his head inside. Walking casually was difficult knowing he was underdressed and would stand out if anyone looked closely. Kelton glanced back and was relieved to see the soldiers systematically searching, stopping at each structure. They confronted anyone walking toward them but ignored those walking away.

Kelton increased his speed, trying to put distance between himself and the soldiers. He thought it best not to run off between buildings until he was out of sight. A few steps later he slowed. Another group of soldiers was moving from the opposite direction. They too were systematic, a human wall across the road as some searched buildings. He would have to risk being seen escaping between buildings. The idea that the alley he picked might dead-end weakened his resolve. To his left, a tavern. To the right, a darkened building closed for the night. He turned twice, feeling as suspicious as he must look. A flash of white cloth, exposed from beneath thick fur coat, caught his eye. In among the soldiers was a man who stood with an arrogance that was unmistakably Brethren. Kelton looked away as the Brother's casual glance scanned his direction. The road was no longer viable and unknown alleys a risk. Indecision and the desire not to stand still drove Kelton to follow a small group seeking refuge in the tavern.

The tavern was full of men, most looking less than honorable. Two rows of long tables, set end to end, forced patrons to walk around the edges of the large room. Serving boys moved quickly around the room with jugs, filling mugs for those with coin. Some customers had bowls of a watery stew that would have taken a brave man to eat. Kelton moved along the wall, scooting past people as he tried to move toward the back.

There was one door on the opposite side from where Kelton entered. Next to it was a staircase to the second floor. Servers were coming and going from the door, indicating the location of the kitchen. Kelton thought it may house a rear exit door. He could feel bodies gathering in front of the tavern, though it was as much guesswork as fact. He hoped the Brethren had the same difficulty when the breadth and numbers of people were so high. Finding an Unseen with jumbled senses would be difficult, and a manual search gave Kelton more options.

"Your drink, sir?"

Kelton turned to look at the boy that pulled at his cloak from behind. He looked to be only 10 winters old. His clothes frayed at the edges, but clean.

"What?" Kelton responded.

"What do you want to drink? You must purchase drink or food to stay," the boy insisted. The city had strange rules. Everyone demanded coin for being places. Kelton missed the woods. No one charged for the sky or wanted coin to sit by a fire.

"I only wish to pass through," Kelton said, tilting his head toward the door in the back.

"No one's allowed through the kitchen," the boy said, tilting his head toward the front door. "You'll be leaving that way, and if you don't buy, you have to leave now." The boy expected his words to be followed. Kelton was sure the boy could call out, and those who enforce the rules would soon follow. He had hoped to use Lilly's silver for over-clothes, something to battle the oncoming winter. He sighed and pulled it out and leaned forward.

"Tea then, and a door other than the front," Kelton whispered. The boy's eyes widened. It wasn't the coin that held his eyes, it was the woven bracelet around Kelton's wrist. The boy reached out and pulled Kelton's cloak over the bracelet, taking the coin in the process.

"Sit here," the boy said, pointing an open spot on a bench at the end of the long row of tables. Kelton hesitated. "Sit," the boy insisted. Kelton relented not wanting to create a scene that might hasten his discovery. The men at the table ignored him as he sat down. He took special care to make sure his scar and hair remained well hidden inside his hood. Conversations continued as if he wasn't there as the boy ran off.

"A sword was found," a small bald man said. "That's what I heard. One sword and they rip apart the city. You'd think it'd have to be attached to an arm to worry them much." The man snorted. "I think they fear their own shadows."

"Bah!" a man with thick grey eyebrows disagreed. The bald man rolled his eyes and took a swig from his mug. "It is this red demon they look for. They think they have him trapped." The man balled his fist and brought it down on the table. Drinks sloshed in their mugs with the power of it. "If I had the baby killing coward here, I'd give him what's coming. Eats them I hear." Kelton's stomach tightened. He clenched his jaw and forced himself to remain silent. He wished the boy would return.

"Stories," another man chimed in, shaking his head. "I hear this, then that and don't know the truth of any of it. Most likely, he stole some captain's coin, and they want his head for it."

"That wouldn't bring out the Brethren," a fourth man chimed in. "I hear he claims to be the Answer." His voice lowered to a whisper as he spoke the last word. Kelton's shoulders stiffened, and it was all he could do not to correct them. He never claimed anything, and he certainly didn't hurt babies.

"It's lies," eyebrows yelled. "He uses the tale to further his murder. Nothing but a coward who preys on the weak. We'll all be better for it when he's found. The Brethren will see that the Goddess' justice is done. I only wish I could get my hands around his neck."

"You'd piss your trousers," the bald man said. The surrounding men chuckled as eyebrow's cheeks turned pink.

"I don't fear cowards," eyebrows said slowly and with malice in his voice. "He attacks women and babes, not men who can raise a hand against him." Kelton stood. He wasn't confident of his intentions, but the lies were too much. Leaving the tavern was becoming less likely with each passing moment. He reached for his waist blade. A best, he could correct this liar before the world crashed down upon him.

"Your room is ready." The boy surprised Kelton, snapping him out of his growing rage. His hands relaxed. "This way, sir."

"I wasn't looking..."

"It is this way," the boy insisted, pulling at Kelton's cloak. Confused, Kelton followed. He hesitated as the boy started up the stairs. The chance of the second floor providing an exit was slim. "You must come," the boy said with determination, yanking hard on Kelton's cloak. Kelton climbed the stairs, feeling once again like a dog in tow.

They reached to top and turned down a hall. The boy pointed at a door at the end. "In there," he said. Kelton stalled, wondering why the boy wasn't entering with him. "Hurry," the boy said and headed back down the stairs.

Kelton stilled, contemplating his choices. None were good. At best, hiding in the last room at the end of the hall held the promise of a few extra moments of freedom before a search found him. He could go back downstairs and try what he thought was the back door. If the impending search was anything like the nighthouse, there was a sentry stationed in the back. If there was only one, it would be better than facing the whole of the unit plus a Brother. The sentry at the nighthouse was a lucky break. He doubted he could be that fortuitous again. Kelton wasn't sure he was ready to kill for the mere chance of escape. That sentry had proved that a blue cloak didn't always identify an enemy. He heard a ruckus coming from below. The search had started, and his options were gone. Kelton moved to the room and opened the door.

"You picked a bad day, friend," A lanky man said as Kelton entered the room. "The Brethren are about looking for the Answer and leaving little to chance." The man pushed a small table from the center of the room. He knelt down and stuck his finger in a missing knot in a floorboard, and began lifting it. It looked to take more strength then the size of the plank indicated. It revealed a dark hole about forearm wide, barely the length of a man. "This is supposed to hide you from them. It is untested, and you'll pay the price if it fails." The man looked up and waved Kelton forward. "Come on, it's not like you have another choice."

Kelton closed the door. The man meant to hide him, but he didn't know the true risk. It was the bracelet that brought Kelton upstairs. The man's peril was greater than he knew. Kelton was tired of lies, and the absence of the truth was just that. He pulled his hood back and exposed his face.

"Goddess!" the man said, his eyes growing. "It is you. Get in quickly and pray it works." Kelton moved toward the hole and looked in. "It is this or the Brethren," the man added.

"It will be this," Kelton said. He stepped into the hole. It was barely two-hands deep. Kelton laid down, squeezing his form into the cold coffin of a hole. It was lined with smooth metal. More metal than Kelton had seen in one place, outside of Rolic's cave.

"Stay silent," the man said as he lowered the plank. The bottom of the plank was covered in metal as well. "I will release you if all goes well. If it doesn't...well," he shrugged his shoulders, "we are both lost."

"Thank you," Kelton said. The plank fell into place, and the world disappeared. Kelton felt nothing and shuddered. For the first time in his life, he was blind inside and out.