Keu shoves me one last time. I dance quickly ahead of him shielding the shine of my eyes under my hood. Let him stand there in the dark for a moment. “If you want to leave this place,” I hiss barely catching myself ending it with alive. I do not trust this man, even if he is supposed to be of Sean’s kin. “Then you’ll stop pushing me the wrong way. Can you not smell the right way?” As I expected there was no forthcoming reply. I shoulder my way past him. “This way, but doesn’t mean it’s the way out.” Faint voices echo though the corridors. I hope I had hidden our passage well.

The walk is quiet down the tunnel with the sweet air and his words play over in my mind. If they catch us, I'm sure they'll torture us and try to make us tell where the others are, especially Hadaig - and Sean too, for what he did in Cill Dara last year. I walk as silently as the breeze glides though the blades of long grasses. Keu stumbles frequently behind me as I do not bother to warn him of the stray outcroppings of rocks or holes. torture us… Time passes and I begin to let the irritation of Keu’s words slip away, but my curiosity prevails, “What happened in Cill Dara?”

”This is no time for stories.”

”Tell me. We have a lot of time or have you not noticed?” Toad crocks his piece.

”Get me out of here and I’ll tell you.” His usage of me and not us does not escape my notice.

”Tell me or you can join the bones we tread upon,” I threaten fully capable of following through, but it is said with a jesting tone this time. “Or try to kill me and embrace the Niafers.”

”Bones,” he questions lacking his usual confidence.

”What did you think you were walking on,” I say as I stop take a closer look myself. Who buries bodies in a cave? “They possess torques still…”

”Gold,” he asks greedily. I shrug in the dark. What do I care? “Where,” he asks as he starts to blindly grope the ground. “Give them to me…We’ll split them, remember?” He makes a racket to my ears scattering the bones.

”Quiet,” I whisper urgently. Keu stops rummaging the few bones around. I hear something. “Stay…”

”What…” he questions as I scurry off to the source of the sound. I follow another curve of the tunnel. Voices and bawdy jests can be heard on the other side of a thin wall. A pinprick of light, my vision switches. I try to peer though the tiny hole, but it’s too small. I can hear Keu whispering my name. Returning to him I tell him to keep himself deathly quiet this time and lead him by a hand. No stumbling this time. Silence is essential.

I clap a hand over this mouth as I hear his intake of air, he’s finally noticed the minuscule beam of light. My eyes flash red dangerously. He nods his agreement to be quiet, because now he can hear the voices as well. Producing one of my daggers I attempt to enlarge the pinprick enough to look in...

"Morann! We greet you. And our noble hostage would greet you too, if she could." Hostage? I can see no hostage. She must be below our peek hole. Keu shoves me away from small window of someone else’s life. Gritting my teeth I stalk further ahead leaving him behind to spy. It’s not as if I could know either party involved.

A draft of fresh forest air carcasses my face. But it’s coming from some tree roots? There is no light be to seen, but this is a burrow up. An old tree has broken the rock, almost a place between the dwellings of the living and the dead. I move some debris out of the bottom hearing Keu stumble in the dark. I continue my work on this burrow up, shimmying up at an angle. It’s going to be very tight going for Keu.

”Hey…where’d you go?”

I ignore Keu as I push some other fallen remains of old branches from the entrance of the burrow door. Late afternoon sun greets my eyes through a thick bush. Sliding back down I let my eyes guide Keu to me. Letting him know of the squeeze up, I waste no time in getting myself back up it. I scout the horizon with my eyes, seeing no one for the moments. Keu is taking his sweet time I think. Looking down the rabbit’s hole I see a rather unhappy man.

”I’m stuck.” He has no choice, but to trust me. With a low giggle I reach down and yank his brat up as well as his shirt tossing them off to the side. His belt and pouch follow. His arm quivers and refuses to release it. A big ugly vein trembles as his grip tightens. I can’t help but wonder if he is about to seize. I release the semi proffered article and watch. He watches just as much as I. Toad has something to say as well. After few agonizing moments, it stops. I help him finish wriggling up with a few scrapes but none worse for wear. I eye him suspiciously.