He opened his eyes to find himself on his hands and knees on the plain's yellowed grass, beside a flattened, blood-smeared patch where the body of a Hound had once lain. Insects buzzed close by. His head aching, Paran climbed to his feet. The other Hound's body was gone as well. What had he done? And why? Of all the things that the Twin could have offered him ... Tattersail ... Toc the Younger... Then again, to pluck a soul back through Hood's Gate was not likely within Oponn's power to achieve. Had he freed the Hounds? He realized he would probably never know.

He staggered over to the horses. At least, for a short time there, he had been unchained. He had been free, and what he had done he had done by his own choice. My own choice.

He looked to the south. Darujhistan and the Adjunct await me. Finish what you started, Paran. Finish it once and for all.

'Damn inconvenient,' Coll growled as Crokus completed tying the bandage. 'She was good,' he added. 'She knew exactly what to do. I'd say she'd been trained. Sort of fits, since she was dressed like a mercenary.'

'I still don't understand,' Crokus said, sitting back on his haunches. He glanced at Murillio and Kruppe. Both remained unconscious. 'Why did she attack us? And why didn't she kill me?'

Coll did not reply. He sat glaring at his horse, which stood a dozen feet away, quietly cropping grass. He'd already voiced a dozen foul curses at the beast, and Crokus suspected that their relationship had been, as Kruppe would put it, irretrievably compromised.

'What's this?' Coll grunted.

Crokus realized that the man was looking past the horse, a frown deepening the lines of his forehead.

The boy turned, then let out a wild shout, springing backwards and snatching at his daggers. His boot caught a stone and he sprawled. He jumped to his feet, one blade freed and in his hand. 'It's her!' he yelled. 'The woman from the bar! She's a killer, Coll.'

'Easy, lad,' Coll said. 'She looks anything but dangerous, despite that sword on her hip. Hell,' he added, pushing himself straighter, 'if anything, she looks completely lost.'

Crokus stared at the woman, who stood at the summit's edge. 'Hood's Breath,' he muttered. Coll was right. He'd never seen anyone look so bewildered, so utterly at a loss. She was looking at them, tensed as if ready to flee. All the poise, the deadly confidence she'd possessed in the Phoenix Inn was gone, as if it had never been. Crokus sheathed his dagger.

'So,' he asked, 'what do we do now, Coll?'

The wounded man shrugged. 'Ease the girl's mind, I guess. From the looks of it, she needs some help.'

'But she killed Chert,' Crokus stated. 'I saw the blood on her knife.'