She fell asleep finally, without being able to come to any conclusion.
Kethry watched her partner dress the next morning, still in a decidedly unsettled state of mind. 'Swordlady,' Egon said hesitantly, as Tarma prepared to set off at dawn to make good her side of the bargain, 'there's something I need to tell you. About the game.'
Tarma didn't even stop lacing up her boots. 'Go ahead,' she said. 'I'm listening.'
'There's a bear about.'
Now she left her lacing, to raise her head and stare at him. 'A what? Are you sure? That -- that's hardly usual.'
'Aye,' the old man replied, shifting from one foot to the other. 'But we've seen it about, not more than a day or two ago.'
Tarma took a moment to secure the lacings, and straightened up, her face dead sober. 'Do you have any notion what that means, that there's a bear, awake and walking this deep into winter?'
Egon shook his head.
'That is a very sick bear, Egon. Either it didn't eat enough to keep it going through winter-sleep, or something woke it far too early, and only illness can do that. In either case, its body is trying to make it go down for sleeping, and it's going completely against those instincts. It's going to die, Egon -- but before it does, it'll be half mad with starvation. It could be very dangerous to you and yours.'
The old man shook his head. 'It's left us alone; we're minded to leave it alone. Don't kill it, sword-lady. Leave it bide. Deer, boar, even a mess of rabbit or bird -- just -- not the bear.'
Tarma checked the condition of every arrow in her quiver before attaching it to her belt. Then she looked at Egon and frowned. 'You're not doing that beast any favor, old man.'
Egon's face set stubbornly. 'Not the bear.'
She shrugged. 'On your head. By the time it's trouble, we'll be gone past calling us back.' She half-turned to face her partner. 'I should be back by afternoon. One more night here, then we'll be off in the morning, if that's all right with you.'
Kethry smiled. 'Who am I to complain about another night under shelter? Good hunting.'
'Thanks, Greeneyes.' The Shin'a'in slipped out the door, leaving Kethry and the Guildmaster alone, sitting across the worktable from one another. The silence between them deepened and grew heavier by the minute. The sorceress stared at her hands, trying to decide what to say-and whether now was the right time to say it.
Finally, when Kethry couldn't stand it any longer, she opened her mouth.
'About that bear-' she began.
Egon spoke at exactly the same moment. 'Lady, be you-'
They looked at each other and laughed shakily. Kethry nodded, gesturing to Egon that he should speak first.
'Lady, I wasn't sure, you wearin' steel and all, but then seemed you know Mara -- be you witchy? A sorceress, belike?'
'Yes,' Kethry said slowly, wondering if he was going to be angry at the idea of having sheltered a mage without knowing it. There were some who would be. Mages were not universally welcomed.
'Thank the God,' Egon breathed fervently -- Oh, terrific. He isn't going to throw me out, but -- 'It's that Mara, lady. I tol' you she been pokin' about in them ruins? Seemed like maybe she found somethin'. Them ruins, there's stories that the people there was witchy, too. Shape-changers.' Egon swallowed. 'We-we think maybe Mara found something of theirs.'
