Fingers slid over a plate with hard-dried cheese. Kelton cut off a slice and added it to the chunk of fresh bread he had torn off the loaf resting in the middle of the table. The bread was still warm, the sweetest he had tasted in a long time. The fluffy innards melted in his mouth, pleasantly mixing with the sharp cheese.

"The captain sails an un-flagged ship," Fingers said, his mouth full of half-chewed bread. "No flagged captain would agree to such a thing; too much to lose. Captain Sebastian, on the other hand, has everything to gain. Transporting you will give him the coin to buy his flag."

"What is a flag?" Kelton asked.

"It is a cloth with a symbol that is hung high on a ship," Fingers said as he reached for another chunk of bread. "There's no King's Own, or their like, on the waters. A flag extends the land to the ship, sort of making it part of the country whose symbol is on it. A flagged ship has protection or is at least afforded retribution, if accosted. An un-flagged ship has no such protections, even if moored in port. It is confusing, and I don't know exactly how it works." He waved a chunk of bread around as he spoke. "Imagining there is something beyond Argonia is difficult enough. More so that there are laws different than laid out by the Brethren." Fingers chuckled. "I am told that in most places, the Brethren hold no sway at all."

"It must be a perfect land." Kelton took another bite of the bread. He decided that fresh bread was one of the better pleasures in life. A close second to a kiss.

"They don't speak of it as such. I figure all places have problems, though I suspect it is worst here." Fingers shrugged his shoulders. "Mayhap, it is worse out there. Wish I was you and could find out."

"If you always eat bread like this, I will trade you my skin," Kelton said, slushing the words through an unchewed mouthful.

"Only in the morning. And only if Gorthow wishes to impress a guest," Finger said, pointing his half-eaten chunk at Kelton. "Usually, I prefer my sleep."

"If you wish to leave, why haven't you?"

"Didn't think it possible. Attempts had failed many times, long before my mother birthed me. There is rarely cargo leaving the port, only arriving. A person would have to hide in the freshwater or other foodstuffs, loaded mostly for the crews. A difficult thing when the Brethren examine it all."

"The Brethren watch the port?"

"Most closely. Nothing passes uninspected," Fingers said, nodding his head as he cut a slice of cheese. "We planned to sneak you in a barrel lined like the hide-hole." He smiled. "The lining is not necessary now that we know you're Unseen. Saves a lot of coin."

"In a barrel?"

"Aye. A water barrel," Fingers said as he shoved bread and cheese in his mouth. He chewed a moment before he continued. "You will be in the bottom, and an inner lid will be sealed above you, then water will be added on top. If they choose to open it, no one is the wiser."

"I will drown," Kelton said.

"Nay. We've worked at it, and the bottom stays dry enough. Even have a small knot you can remove to freshen the air." Fingers laughed. "You will be sore. Being crunched up for a time isn't friendly to the bones."

"What if they prob the water, with a sword or something?"

"Then they find it false, and you are done." Fingers lost his smile. "As the wagon master, I will share that fate." Kelton could see the seriousness in Fingers' eyes. It would be the second time the man would risk his life for Kelton. Jutney had risked much as well, crossing the city to the Seven, then back again to the tavern. The Seven assured Kelton that they were both paid well. Still, Kelton felt he owed them all something. The risks were large for people he only just met.

The door to the room opened. Kelton wasn't concerned. He had sensed the approach and had become used to the safety deployed by the Seven. They would have been warned if the visitor was unwanted.

"Gothrow sent tea," Jutney said, entering with a steaming pot held in one hand shielded by a cloth. There were three mugs in his other hand. He sat down at the table and filled each cup without wasting a drop. Kelton took one and took a tentative sip, wary of the steam. He smiled at the flavor.

"South Allyander?" Kelton asked.

"Aye, but keep it to yourself," Jutney replied. "There are patrons below who would fill ill-treated if they knew Gothrow had a stash."

"Fresh bread, cheese, and South Allyander. We dine like kings," Kelton commented before his lips returned to his mug. He thought of Gossamer and wished he could be at the table. Good tea was one thing they always shared well.

"Best tea in all the lands," Fingers said, raising his mug. Kelton and Jutney, their mouths busy sipping, mumbled their agreement.

"Did you find a route?" Kelton asked Jutney after he drained his cup.

"It has been worked out," Jutney replied, smiling. "The ruckus you plan will force us to move quickly. A change of overclothes is in place along the way, and watchers will warn of trouble. I am the best, so don't lose me."

"I don't plan too."

"It is going to be risky enough to get you on the ship. Do you think this is worth it?" Fingers asked.

"Mayhap, not," Kelton replied with a smile. "I wish it though. And the Seven wish it as well. I will leave a message to those that see me as more than I am. Something for the Brethren to ponder on." Kelton shrugged. "I have no idea what will become of me, so it is my goodbye."

"You will be back," Jutney said.

"I have promised as much." Kelton nodded. "Though life seems to steer me with little thought to my desires. Return or not, I desire this bit of acting. Someone told me that small hope is better than none. Mayhap, I can share some for a moment."

"You wish to leave a mark," Fingers said, raising his cup.

"Aye," Kelton agreed, enjoying the idea of it. "There are some people I hope hear of it." Kelton's voice dropped low as if others might be listening. "One person in particular. She took care of me when I was sick, and I think of her often."

"She makes your heart beat faster?" Fingers whispered, tapping his chest. His smile said he already knew the answer.

"Aye, and makes me wish I were still sick." Kelton and Fingers shared the humor of it.

"Is she the last of Kushiel's line?" Jutney asked with wide eyes.

"Nay," Kelton said, still smiling with Fingers. "She is cursed, and a skilled healer."

"You must love the last the line," Jutney argued.

"And I must light my head on fire," Kelton said. Fingers laughed. "The story is an old one. Mayhap, the words changed in the tellings. Mayhap, what happened to me only fits the words, and there is no Answer. I am running because to do otherwise is to die. I know you wish me to be this hero, but I tell you, I don't feel like I am."

"You are not ready," Jutney said, his chin raised.

"In that, we are in agreement," Kelton said.

"I will be ready when you return," Jutney stated.

"If I return, you'll be one I seek out," Kelton said.

"After the healer," Fingers added. Kelton smiled his agreement. The more he thought on Juno, the more he wished he wasn't leaving. His mind drifted to his incessant morning dreams of Serenity; then he remembered Juno's kiss. No dream could compare to a memory that grew with each rethinking.

Kelton's face was hidden deep in the hood of a borrowed cloak. The tavern was full, as it always was on cold nights. He sat in the corner at the end of the last table, the same seat he had used when he first met Jutney. Nursing a mug filled with tea, he kept an eye on the door and his ear to the conversations that surrounded him. Jutney wasn't mistaken. Some of the same people he had sat with before, were there again. Regulars, Jutney called them.

"I saw the sword, as long as my arm," the man with thick gray eyebrows said. He was as boisterous as the first time. "I swear there was blood on it. Babes had died on its edge." Kelton kept silent as he watched the door.

"You didn't see anything," another man said, then took a swig from his mug. The bald man sitting next to him nodded in agreement. They didn't have a lot of respect for Eyebrows words.

"Oh, I saw it. Got a nephew in the King's Own and he was tasked with taking it to the Brethren. It was as long as the one he carries, though older and heavier. Found just off the road, behind a tree."

"Could have been there for a hundred winters," the bald man said. Kelton knew the sword they talked about. Never again would it be in his hands. It was a sad thought. First Gossamer, and now the sword. Little of his past remained.

"They say it was the demon's," Eyebrows argued. "Defanged and running for his life, I expect."

"Well, they didn't find him here," the bald man said. "Mayhap, it wasn't his sword, if there was a sword at all."

"You calling my nephew a liar!"

"Well, let's just say exaggeration runs in the family," Baldy said. The others at table chuckled, some hiding their smiles behind mugs. Kelton could tell they had all been deep in their cups well before he arrived. The alcohol was freeing tongues. His stomach growled at the memory of Rolic's mead. Something he didn't want to relive.

"I speak the truth as I know it," Eyebrows said. He put his mug down on the table loudly. "If you wish to live in ignorance, then, by all means, ignore my words. But, do not insult my family or me."

"It is just in jest," Baldy said, adding a chuckle. "We all see with different eyes. I doubt many of the words that come from the King's Own. I heed them, but I am not blind. This demon is as much fable as truth. Brethren and King use the story as an excuse to do what they will. I doubt most things I cannot see and touch." There was a mummer of agreement around the table.

"You doubt the Goddess?" Eyebrows asked.

"It is not the Goddess I doubt; it is those who say they speak for her," Baldy whispered. A few uncomfortable nods of agreement from others at the table. Kelton had to agree, though he didn't acknowledge it, or even turn his eyes toward the group.

"Your bold words are spoken meekly," Eyebrows said with a chuckle.

"I am not as bold as my beliefs," Baldy agreed, raising his mug.

"Well, I believe my nephew. It does not surprise me that the demon ran from here," Eyebrows continued. "He would find a quick end. There are too many men that hold to the Goddess. I am sure he finds it easier to hunt women in the smaller towns." Kelton cringed, lifting his mug to his lips to cover the twitch in his lips.

"If he was here at all. Or if he even exists."

"Too many stories to deny it," Eyebrows said, bouncing his finger on the table to make his point. "I do not deny that some may be false, but all? I think not. He is a foul thing, using an old tale to entrap fools."

"What of the stories that say he is Kushiel's Answer?" another man asked quietly. Kelton couldn't see the questioner.

"Do you believe ancient words or those of the King's Own," Eyebrows answered with a shrug. "Their words are new, and I see the truth of it in their eyes."

"Mayhap, they fear him."

"Nay," eyebrows said. "No man fears a coward. The demon runs because he fears them."

"He killed one of the Brethren," baldy whispered. "Challenged him and stuck him through. That's what I heard."

"That would frighten me," another said. Kelton wished Jutney would hurry along.

"Challenged a Brother?" Eyebrows laughed, his drink sloshing over the lip of the mug. "When you think of truth and lies, that one is more false than any other. He kills babes, not Brethren." Jutney entered the front door much to the relief of Kelton. Though he didn't look Kelton's way, his hand reached up and scratched the top of his head. The signal for all clear. There were no soldiers or Brethren near. Kelton smiled.

"Mayhap, all the stories are false," Kelton interjected, his eyes still fixed at the door, away from the group.

"I don't know you, friend," Baldy said.

"I say the truth is somewhere in the middle of all the tales," Kelton continued. "Mayhap, he is not a demon. Mayhap, he does not kill women and babes. Mayhap, he never challenged one of the Brethren."

"Bah, you guess like all others," Eyebrows argued.

"Mayhap, he is frightened as you say," Kelton continued, his eyes shifting toward the group. The hood hid most of his features from direct observation. "Could it not be that he only wished to save friends, to stop a Brother who condemned them to death in a Choosing." The din in the tavern faded near Kelton as the closet tables tried to hear.

"I have not heard this tale?" A man next to eyebrows said. Baldy shifted backward in his seat, farther away from Kelton. Kelton could see he was putting the pieces together.

"Frightened, as you say," Kelton said, pointing to eyebrows. "He snuck up on the Brother and stuck him with a sword. There was no other way. The Brother meant to kill his whole world. Is it cowardice that the boy lost his stomach at the sight of it?"

"Boy?"

"You expect a man?" Kelton asked. "I guess that makes him sound more fearsome. Nay, he is barely 15 winters." Kelton looked directly at Baldy, whose hands began shaking. "He has killed to protect and to survive. All of it has sickened him."

"You...you act as if you were there," Baldy said.

"Aye, I was there," Kelton said. The hush among the closer tables became noticeable. It was spreading.

"Liar!" Eyebrows said. Baldy shook his head at him.

"I was there when he killed a bandit to protect a woman and child." Kelton's voice rose as Gossamer's would had he been telling a story. "I was there when soldiers killed another for having been born with red hair. I was there when he killed a captain who was beating a friend." He looked directly at eyebrows. "Is it okay to defend a woman against the King's Own, or should he have allowed it to happen?" Baldy stood and stepped out from the bench. He had realized who Kelton was.

"No boy could do all you say," Eyebrows snarled.

"Narby, it is time you held your tongue," Baldy warned.

"I will not. He pretends to know the demon and casts the monster in the Goddess' light. I'll not be silent for such lies."

"I speak the truth, one of the few that can," Kelton said, his voice echoing across the now silent tavern.

"No one can sneak up on a Brother," Narby challenged, swiping his arm through the air. "Your story is false from the beginning."

"Aye, it would be a difficult feat for you," Kelton said, nodding his head. "I ask you, what if the boy were Unseen?" Baldy's face went pale, and he took another step away from the table, bumping into a seated man behind him.

"Words are just words," Baldy told Kelton. "Narby never means anything by them. It is just his way."

"Don't defend me to this man," Narby said, pointing at Kelton.

"Boy," Kelton corrected. He looked toward Baldy. "I mean no harm to anyone, except to those that mean harm to me. Until this day, I have had little control of my destiny." Kelton stood, stepping back over the bench. "They hunt a boy," Kelton told the tavern. "The Brethren fear him because he doesn't bow to their words." There was silence as if Gossamer had control of the crowd. "They fear him because he hopes for something better."

"Blasphemy and lies!" Narby said, standing up and facing Kelton.

"I have heard your words this day, and another," Kelton said. "You spoke of this demon as if he were a scoundrel that hides from Goddess fearing men. I tell you he hid to protect others and himself. Well, no more. Do you still desire to have him in your grasp?" Kelton reached up and pulled the hood off his head, releasing his red hair and exposing the scar.

A wave of shock traveled across the tavern. Narby's face lost its color. Two men stood and ran from the tavern. Jutney left out the other, kitchen door. It was Kelton's signal that Jutney no longer trusted that the way would remain clear.

"It is him!" A man yelled from the other side, many tables away from Kelton.

"Aye," yelled Kelton. "I am the one they seek. Do I look like the killer of babes? Do you see me feasting on the flesh of women?" The crowd was silent, some looking terrified, others waiting for someone to answer. "Nay, I am nothing but a boy who wishes he never met the Brethren. Believe the lies if you must, but know this; I am hunted for stopping a friend I call sister from being chosen. If it is my fate to die, then so be it. I have done right, and the proof is in her mother's smile."

Narby growled and a redness flooded his features. Kelton knew the man had talked himself into a corner and expected what was to come. He smiled as he sensed the fist before it even began to move. Narby found air as Kelton ducked and moved a step away.

"I see like they do," Kelton said. Narby lurched forward, using his bulk in an attempt to slam Kelton against the wall. Kelton slid to the side at the last moment. A giddiness overtook him. The ease at which he was able to avoid the attack was laughable. Even with his jumbled city senses, it was if Narby was moving through mud.

"You are no more a threat to me, then you would be to them," Kelton said. He ducked as another man tried to wrap his arms around his neck from behind. He swiveled low and drove his fist into the man's stomach just below the rib cage. The man doubled over, the air driven from his lungs. Others were clearing the area, some leaving the tavern in haste.

"I do not wish this," Kelton said.

"Leave him be," A bearded man yelled. "He is Kushiel's Answer." As many affirmations as dissents broke out. Kelton had seen a different outcome of his stunt. The beginnings of an all out brawl was building in many small arguments.

"This is not the way," Baldy told Kelton. Kelton wondered what way the bald man was referring. There was no way, no real plan. Kelton sensed Narby drawing a blade. He knew it was aimed at the small of his back, a thrust with all the man's weight behind it. This was not what Kelton desired at all.

Kelton turned, grabbing Narby's wrist before the man could react. Kelton guided Narby's weight forward and placed his leg between Narby's. Narby lost control and fell forward into the table, face first. Kelton grabbed a fistful of hair, lessening the blow to Narby's face. The blade fell from Narby's hand when his nose connected. Kelton pulled Narby's head back from the table, blood streaming from the nose.

"You are truly a demon," Narby slurred from his knees. Kelton let go of his hair and lowered his mouth to Narby's ear.

"Demon's wear white robes, fool," Kelton said. He could sense movement outside, or near outside, or a street over. Too many people to tell for sure. It was past time to leave. "Good life to you," Kelton added, then moved toward the kitchen door.