It was nearly noon on Eightday before they finally caught their first glimpse of Oak Mill through the trees. Varga grinned, anticipating the welcome they would receive. They'll probably find us very interesting when we show up at the gate.

Orvan and I don't have much Western, but it ought to be enough to ask for Tom Walker. Should be pretty obvious that a second squad of elves is looking for the first one. Not as if there are a lot of elves running around these parts.

Rillik had made a full recovery on the trip, and was eagerly running ahead and pointing out landmarks. They had decided to see whether Rillik's friend Charlie was around. Getting a friendly human escort could only help matters. When they reached Charlie's farm, however, there was no sign of the boy.

"What do you think?" Brallik asked, looking between Varga and Orvan.

"We know there's a gate on the west side," Orvan pointed out.

"Let's keep our distance and circle around," Varga suggested. "If we stand on the road and wait for someone to come by headed into town, we will look less like fugitives." They turned and started working their way towards Mill Road.

"We are fugitives," Sheema brooded.

"Nah," Varga disagreed. "We're...under Tom's protection."

"We're his property, you mean."

"He's not like that," Varga protested, not for the first time. "He's covering for us."

"So you say. You're still asking me to put a magical slave collar back on."

"He'll take it off the minute we're indoors."

"I'll believe it when I see it."

Varga frowned. I never should have told her about the necklace. Now she's had days to get angry about it. She's full of righteous indignation that the thing exists, let alone that we're using it. I'm sure she'll demand Tom remove it right away. Well, I'll let Diavla argue about it—Sheema's more likely to listen to her.

It was the better part of an hour to reach the road while keeping their distance from the human town. As soon as it came into view below them, Varga called a halt. "All right, guys. It's time." Brallik nodded and opened his pack; he had carried the slave collars.

"Are you absolutely certain that Tom will take these off of us?" Sheema asked.

"Yes," Orvan said simply, putting his own back on with a click. Varga followed suit, and then they waited for the others.

"Are you sure that he has touched the tokens for these collars within the past week?" Sheema checked again.

"Yes! I've seen him pull them all out, touch them one by one, and put them away again in his secret belt pouch. He does it every night. He takes the responsibility very seriously. Besides," Varga pointed out, "it would be a really stupid design if the collar killed someone the moment it went on, just because someone forgot to touch the tokens first. The collar has got to start counting time from the moment it gets put on. It's safe, Sheema."

Brallik sighed and put his on with a visible effort of will, then knelt next to Rillik. "Remember what I said?"

"We're spies," Rillik repeated. "The collar is a disguise to help us fool the humans and spy on them."

"Absolutely. Besides, you don't want to be the last one, you'll look like a rabbit," Brallik whispered by way of encouragement. With that, Rillik nodded, took a deep breath, and put the collar on, shivering as it clicked in place. They all looked at Sheema.

"You know...maybe one of us should keep the collar off, just in case..." the Healer began nervously.

"Sheema," Varga chided, "do you really think that nobody is going to be looking at you closely when we walk into town? Even humans think you're gorgeous, on top of being so...abundant." She waved a hand at the Healer's generous chest. "Come to think of it, I probably should have borrowed one of Eubexa's veils for you. Oh, well." She shrugged. "Just keep your hood up and we should be fine."

Still Sheema paused. Orvan cleared his throat. "Trust me, Sheema. It will be fine."

Slowly, the violet-eyed beauty lifted the collar and put it around her neck, shuddering as the collar clicked into place. "I hope you're right," she whispered.

"Let's get to the road. The sooner we get into town, the sooner these come off again," Varga prodded, then took the lead, marching down the slope to the road.

∘ ⛥ ⛯ ⛥ ∘

It was only a few minutes before a small group of humans with an ox-pulled wagon appeared around the bend. The elves all stood in a row at the side of the road and waited politely. Varga waved when the humans caught sight of them. She got an idea and took one step forward as they approached.

"Hello!" she called. "Oak Mill?" She pointed back the way the people had come. "Oak Mill?" she repeated, pointing towards the town.

The man driving the wagon brought it to a halt and called out something in Western. Varga gave him a cheerful smile and shrugged. "Do you speak Elvish?" she asked, knowing it was virtually certain that the answer was no. It was kind of fun, thinking up ways to get stuff across from one soul to another without learning any words.

"Oak Mill," the man declared after a moment, pointing east, the way they were going. He asked another question. Varga shrugged, then tapped her slave collar. "Tom Walker. We...go...Oak Mill. We...go...Tom Walker. Yes?" She made elaborate gestures to help things along.

The humans chatted for a few moments. The woman sitting beside the man pointed at herself and said, "Ophelia."

"O...phee...leee...ah?" Varga tried. The woman nodded. "Ophelia. Hi! I'm Varga. Varga," she repeated, pointing at her face. Then she turned and pointed at her companions one by one. "Brallik, Rillik, Sheema, Orvan. Varga," she finished with herself again.

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"(Something) husband John." Ophelia introduced her husband. Varga nodded.

"Hi, Ophelia. Hi John. We...go?"

John snorted in amusement, then clicked at the draft horse pulling his wagon, and they started moving again. The elves fell in behind the wagon. Brallik moved up next to Varga.

"What was that about?" he asked quietly, so that the humans wouldn't hear.

"People like to be nice when it doesn't cost them anything. Now, they've been nice to us, and if there's trouble at the town gate, maybe those two will speak up for us," Varga told him. "Besides, it's good to make friends."

Brallik eyed her. "You're not as much of a hollow head as you pretend, are you?"

"Oh, I am. I just have my good moments now and then," she protested. Brallik snorted and shook his head.

There wasn't a lot of traffic on the road, but well before they reached the gate, they encountered three men with packs walking the other way. They exchanged some simple greetings with John and Ophelia, but stopped short when they caught sight of the elves. The men looked back and forth and called out a question. Varga was pretty sure that John said, "no."

The humans had a lively conversation for a few moments, and then the shortest of the men, with brown curly hair, stepped up to Varga and started gesturing wildly.

"What's he saying?"

"I think he's telling us not to go to Oak Mill." Varga cleared her throat. "Tom Walker. We go Tom Walker. Tom Walker, Oak Mill."

"You no go Oak Mill, eh? No."

The man looked at the other elves, and when he saw Sheema, he went slack-jawed. The man whispered what sounded like a reverent oath, then pulled his cap off his head and bowed to her."Kevin McCall, (something something)."

"Sheema. Sheema Dularel. Hello, Kevin." Sheema gave him a polite bow in return. We go Oak Mill."

The other two men started teasing Kevin, and he began arguing with them. It sounded like he was trying to talk them into something. Finally, with some grins, head-shaking, and eye-rolling, his friends agreed.

"You go Oak Mill. (Something!)" The brown-haired human held up one finger. "Something."

"One?" Varga guessed. "One, two, three?" She lifted fingers.

"Yes! One, two, three!" Kevin muttered to himself as he found a stick and smoothed a patch of dirt in the road. Unfortunately, the ground was hard enough that he couldn't make much of a mark. He scrambled around and grabbed several sticks and rocks. He put two sticks end to end with a small gap between them.

"Oak Mill. No Oak Mill." He pointed.

"All right, that's the town wall, I get it..." Varga said.

An elaborate pantomime got across that the gate guard was going to attack them on sight. What kind of trouble did Diavla get into? Can't leave her alone for a minute!

More gestures and some pebbles conveyed that he wanted the elves to go around and come at the gate from the north side, along the wall. "Two," meant that his friends would go bother the guard on the south side. "Three," meant that the elves would sneak in while the guard was busy.

Just for fun, Varga nodded her understanding, said, "One," and indicated the elves going through the gate.

"No! No, no, no, no, no!" The man said in a panic. "One, you go (something), two, we go (something), three, you go Oak Mill. Three."

"Varga, be nice," Sheema murmured.

Varga saw that one of the men was eyeing her with a grin, and winked at him. He started laughing silently and backhanded his friend's arm to get his attention. Relenting, she recited the plan correctly to Kevin. "Thank you," she told him more seriously.

"Thank you, Kevin," Sheema said, which had more of an impact. Varga could practically see Kevin's chest inflate as he straightened.

They walked together a short distance, then the humans urged them to detour north of the road. This is the same way we came in, Varga groused a little in her soul. As they were getting into position, she thought through what was about to happen.

"Rillik should be first," Orvan declared.

"I was just about to say that, and Sheema second," Varga agreed.

"Then you, Brallik, and me last."

"I'll be last, Orvan," Brallik declared. "I'm the slowest. Don't worry, I'll try not to be left behind."

"Why am I first?" Rillik asked.

"Because you're smaller and you look less threatening. A kid hiding under a cloak looks a lot less suspicious than an adult doing the same thing. Sheema's short, so the same applies to her."

"Oh."

"So, Rillik, if you get inside, and there's any trouble, your job is to go around town and find Diavla and the others. Don't worry about us, just get that done. If the others are in town, we have got to let them know we're here, all right? It's an important job. Can you handle it?"

"I can do it."

"Good man," Orvan told him, and Rillik stood straighter.

"And remember, speak as little as possible once we're inside, and if you have to speak, whisper or use any Western you know," Varga warned them. "We'll look for a tavern, first."

∘ ⛥ ⛯ ⛥ ∘

Amazingly, the plan worked. Kevin and his friends had the guard thoroughly distracted, and all five of them managed to slip in through the briefly unguarded gate. Varga spotted what looked like the Guardhouse to the left, and quickly took the lead, guiding the group away from there and towards the center of town.

There was no sign of a tavern yet, which surprised her. Oak Mill was significantly smaller than Rivermarch, though, so even being on a side street would not hurt business that much, she reasoned. More worrisome was the lack of foot traffic. There were some people out and about, but not nearly as many as one would expect at midday. As a result, five cloaked and hooded figures stood out a fair bit.

"Let's split up," she suggested in a murmur.

"Brallik, with me," Orvan muttered, and crossed to the other side of the street.

"Rillik, go on ahead. Look for your friend Charlie, maybe, and find the others," Varga whispered.

"All right." The boy jogged away.

Varga thought about turning right, but heard a loud argument coming from that direction, so pressed on. They had almost reached the next corner when they heard footsteps racing up behind them. She hurried her short friend along and steered her around the corner just before turning to face the threat. It was Kevin. He put his hands on his knees a moment, catching his breath.

"Tom Walker," he panted."I (something.)" He looked around, then nodded. Straightening up, he walked away from them, approached a woman passing the other way, and asked something in Western. The other human gave him directions. He thanked her, doffed his hat for a moment, then put it on and walked as though he didn't have a care in the world. Varga and Sheema followed at a distance.

Kevin proceeded to speak to a few different people. At first, Varga wondered why the guards weren't paying the three of them any attention, and then remembered that he had been in town already and was probably a familiar sight, and the two of them were with him. He went into a tavern, to a bakery, into a shop, and then led them up a residential street. He stopped at a house with a red door and knocked.

After a few moments, the door opened and a familiar veiled figure stood in the entry. Eubexa? Varga almost called out, but held her tongue. Kevin spoke with her for a few moments in Western. While that was happening, Sheema tugged at Varga's cloak and pointed down the street, where two short figures were running closer. The one in the lead was a human boy, and the other was Rillik. They did not seem to be chased, simply hurrying.

Eubexa's voice called out quietly in Elvish, "You two, come inside quickly!"

"Hi, Eubexa, Rillik's right behind us," Varga answered as she and Sheema hurried up the steps.

"You speak Elvish?" Kevin asked.

"Yes."

Kevin said something, and Eubexa told Sheema, "This man says he will go find the others and bring them here, in exchange for a kiss from you. He wants me to tell you that you're the most beautiful woman he's ever seen."

Sheema hesitated a moment, then nodded. "I...accept. Thank you," she told the human in Western, giving him a smile. Kevin made a sweeping bow, then hurried back down the steps. Varga and Sheema slipped inside, followed a few moments later by Rillik and the other boy, presumably Charlie.

"In. In!" Eubexa urged in two languages, then swiftly shut the door. She turned and faced the boys. "Well, you must be Rillik. I'm Eubexa Corvolli."

"Hello, Miss Corvolli."

"Charlie, good (something something) Rillik here. Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"Where are the others? Where's Tom?" Varga asked.

"Arven is upstairs at the front window, keeping watch. The others are guarding the back door. As for Tom..." Eubexa sighed. "It's a long story."

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