"Grace, wake up," Belenus' voice was urgent as he shook my shoulder and stirred me from a dream about being late for work. "Wake up now."

"What's wrong?" I asked as I pushed myself up and tried to blink through the haze of sleep. I'd been up late packing what I thought I'd need on our quest and trying to crush the negative thoughts. Belenus' eyes were focused and intense in the yellow light. "What's happening?" I asked, and my heart began to pound when I kicked off the sheets. 

"The lockbox is ready. We're leaving as soon as the horses are prepared. Get dressed," he said. He hurried past my changing screen, and I scrambled to discard my warm pajamas for the layers of my waiting travel attire. 

"Do you have anything else to pack in your saddlebags? If not, I'll take them too," he called. 

"I'm good. You can take them," I replied before I yawned. I had no idea what time it was, but I knew by the chill of the ground that it was well before dawn. The tent flap rustled, indicating Belenus' departure.

The art of lacing the various necessities of my wardrobes had been mastered by my third day, so changing was usually quick. However, I needed to pull on more than one layer to withstand the cold winds of the trail. I didn't want to catch pneumonia right after Cherish gave me a clean bill of health. I splashed my face with the water from my side table bowl, not caring to warm it. Then I double-checked that my twin french braids were still intact from where a kind woman named Liliana had put them in for me at the showers. I'd paid her for the green strips of leather that were woven in them and securing the ends. If I was staying in Aranthem much longer, I needed to learn to do it myself. 

 Confident that I was sufficiently dressed, I laced up my boots and rushed to the bathroom tent. Once finished, I sprinted back to grab my weapons. I reached under my mattress to get my gun because I wasn't about to go gallivanting across an unknown world without it. Yes, I was a decent shot with a crossbow, but I hadn't ever used it in an actual fight or to hunt. My gun, though, I knew I could hold my own with it. 

"I wouldn't," Faolán said, and his voice made me freeze. I looked back because he never came around the screen without asking. His shadow was on the other side.

"Wouldn't what?" I asked, sliding the extra mags of ammo towards me slowly.

"I know you feel more confident with your gun, but we can't risk anyone finding out you're pure human. The instant you used it on someone, there would be no doubt of it," Faolán said. I could hear the even amounts of amusement and worry in his voice. 

"You really know how to crush a girl's dreams," I grumbled. Still, I slid it out from under my mattress, along with my extra ammo, and locked it away in the trunk I was given to secure my belongings.

"I don't understand why you let me bring it if I can't ever use it," I said before I went around the screen. My irritation at his interjection was lessened when I saw him holding a bowl of food. "Is that for me?" I asked, holding back a yawn.

"Yes, we all ate with the locksmith while getting instructions on how to activate the lockbox's spells," he said. "And we didn't let you bring anything. You packed your own bag. Who were we to tell you what to bring?" Faolán surrendered the bowl of food to me. I accepted the bowl with one hand, pleased to find it was the sweet, creamy oatmeal I had taken to eating every morning. Even better, it appeared Faolán recalled that I enjoyed bacon in it. "However, I wouldn't suggest using it unless we end up in a battle where you can't be singled out too easily."

"I guess you're right," I sighed.

"I thought you could eat as we walked," he said and turned to his side of the tent. "We won't have warm food until we stop for the night."

"You're my hero," I said with a grin, and double-checked to make sure my dark brown traveling cloak's ties were secured with my free hand before I spooned a bite into my mouth. I was halfway out of the tent when I noticed he hadn't followed. I swallowed and turned around. 

"Faolán?" I called, looking over to his bed.

He put some papers in the suitcase-looking box with a strap that had been on the table when I first arrived and now often rested on his cot. I had meant to ask what it was a few days before, but I didn't want to violate his privacy.

"One moment, just putting my supplies away," he replied, and I took another bite while he secured it in his own trunk. "Caoimhe brought them to me when she came to the camp since I had to leave my others behind when we fled." The explanation was nice, but it only confused me more. I had no idea what the supplies were.

"I'm confused," I said and remembered too late that my mouth was full.

"I'll explain. We need to go," Faolán said before he shooed me out into the dark path.

Here and there, in the predawn darkness, the yellow crystal lamps lit our way. The camp was quiet, barring the guards changing watches and livestock owners going about their chores. It slightly unnerved me as we walked. Even though I was scarfing down my food, the dim journey reminded me of how driving down backroads at midnight felt. I knew it was safe, but the night seemed like it was watching us go.

My bowl was empty by the time we reached our companions, where Belenus was making final adjustments to the packs. Steren was off to the side, exchanging a sweet goodbye with her wife. Cherish was, in between kisses, reminding her of which ingredients did what in the bag the werewolf captain was holding.

I approached Isolde, who was standing next to the imposing chestnut stallion that I knew to be Ardhal. The beautiful mare's luxurious mane and tail had been braided neatly, and the hardware of her bridle jingled as she tossed her head in greeting.

"Hello, beautiful lady," I said, and I passed my bowl off to the teenage boy who'd been adjusting her saddle and stirrups. I smiled at him and said, "Thank you, but I can take it from here." The affection puff of air that Isolde blew in my face made me smile through the nerves. "I'm a bit nervous. I've never ridden for more than a few hours at a time. Please be patient with me," I murmured to her. Isolde lipped my sleeve before tossing her head, and I tried to relax.

I moved back to double-check the straps over my saddle bags at the back were secure, like I'd been shown, as well as my water and food bags strapped to the front. Then I let my fingers glide over the ivy-designed holster that held my crossbow that was strapped to the right side of my saddle. It had seemed so bulky and large when I held it, but against Isolde's tall frame and powerful muscles, it was perfect.

 "Don't worry, you probably won't have to fire from horseback," Belenus said, making me jerk around. Determination had hardened his face, making his young features seem as impossibly ageless as his uncle's. "We will be riding at a steady pace," he went on, "so as not to wear our companions out. That doesn't mean we can't stop as necessary."  His hand rested lightly on my shoulder, and I prepared for some sort of connection. Nothing happened. "I'm your friend, or trying to be, and I know this isn't a life you're accustomed to. Please don't be afraid to let me know if you need a break. Nobody would judge you." His voice was low, as if he knew I wouldn't want the others to hear.

Yes they would, sneered that voice.

"I will," I lied. Then I covered his hand with my own, squeezing it softly, until he stepped back and crouched down with his hands like a bowl.

"Thank you, kind sir," I said, affecting a prim air in an effort to hide my anxiety as I put my foot in his hand and pulled while he pushed me up into the saddle. The stirrups were perfect this time, and I loosely held the reins in my hands against the padded saddle in front of me.

The wind was picking up, and I could smell a bit of rain in the air. It hadn't sprinkled the night before, but when I looked, the gray of the morning was as much cloud cover as it was the shadows of the tents. I shivered, hoping it wasn't going to be raining on our journey. I was ready for the sun to make an appearance already, so that its warmth would help stave off the cold wind that riding would cause. As if he had read my mind from a distance, Faolán called my name. I looked over, and he tossed me a small jar. 

"For your lips," he said and nodded at it. I opened it, finding yellowish balm inside. With a finger, I coated my lips, delighted at the taste of honey. I closed it and tossed it back. "Let me know if you need more. The wind might be a bit harsh this morning ahead of the storm moving in."

"Oh great," I huffed and prayed we could stay ahead of it.

"Move out." Belenus' order was unexpected, and I barely had time to keep my seat before Isolde tugged at the reins to stay in line with the others.

"Allons-y," I snickered to myself andthen plunged out of the camp toward the darkness of the forest. 

I'm afraid there isn't much to tell about the first day on the trail except that we didn't beat the storm. It caught us around midafternoon. The horses, bless them, had guided us off the path into some dense trees that blocked the wind and rain long enough for us to put up the tent and lean-to that was split between our packs. I was surprised, though I shouldn't have been, that the lean-to was for the horses. Faolán informed me, as we assembled it, that it was only for rain or other such weather. The horses preferred not to use it to sleep, as it kept them too close together.

The rain had hit before we could secure a good batch of firewood. So we weren't able to hunt or cook a hot meal that night. This meant we were confined to our smoked meat, dried fruits, and the five granola bars I'd had the forethought to pack. I carefully tucked those wrappers back into my bag to burn when we returned. I was not about to pollute this beautiful realm.

We could only get a small fire started and sustained in the earthen oven. Even with magic, the collectible wood was too wet to burn much. Drying off larger amounts would have wasted energy. So we all agreed to keep the fire in the tiny dirt oven only large enough to prevent the rain's biting cold from hurting us. The immediate setback in our plan seemed to have upset my companions, and I tried not to be a bother by talking much. I only interjected when we voted to sleep early and wake up well before dawn to catch up on time.

I volunteered for the first watch so that my human eyes and reflexes wouldn't be useless. There was just enough light for me to see, as I sat as close to the tent as possible, with my cloak tucked tightly around me and my crossbow in hand. I passed the assigned two hours by contemplating updates to my fanfictions that were waiting to be completed upon my return. Faolán relieved me before I could wake him, and he traded me his dry cloak in exchange for my wet one. When I had tried to refuse, he'd ignored me. So I was able to curl up on the sleeping roll he'd left behind and wrap up with his dry cloak as a blanket. It didn't take me long to give in to sleep.