"We're going to have to split up."

The others looked up from their breakfasts with varying levels of resignation and confusion. Clay gave them a half-hearted smile in return.

Mitchell was the first to respond. "This is about the missions from the Guild?"

Clay nodded. "There's just too much to do, spread too far apart, for us to reach everything if we stay together."

Andrew winced. "Yeah, I was wondering what we were going to plan on doing. They'd have us running all over the kingdom just to handle what they want us to do, let alone the Lairs."

Lana grimaced. "We could always get to the Lairs we had planned later. It isn't like they are going anywhere right now."

"As long as they don't turn into Dungeons while we aren't looking, sure." Clay shook his head. "It isn't just about that, though. If we don't have you hit those Lairs, none of you will learn the [Chant] you need to break other Lairs."

Olivia nodded slowly. "Which means that knowledge would be limited to me, Clay, and the Guild. And perhaps the King." He'd told her about the encounter in the throne room, and she'd agreed with his conclusions. She'd also had a few pointed mentions about the fact that he'd somehow gotten himself in yet another situation alone, though she had grudgingly admitted that he'd asked her to come along first, this time. "That might be part of why the Guild is trying to keep you so busy, actually."

"Sneaky." Mitchell shook his head. "Still, the fact is, at the moment, you're still the only ones who know the [Chant]. Unless you're going to write it down?"

Clay shook his head. "No. Absolutely not." The last thing he needed was to find more copies of that spell floating around on its own. "I still want to be there when you try for the first time. Just in case."

Lana frowned at him. "So, how do we do that? Are we going to just break the Lairs and come back after they regenerate? At least then they wouldn't cause more damage or grow."

He looked over at the [Minstrel] and shook his head again. "I'd rather just destroy them, actually." Then he took a deep breath. "For that reason, each of you is going to lead a small team to one of the Lairs we had planned on destroying. You'll scout the Lair, kill as many of the monsters as you can, and wait for Olivia and I to arrive."

Andrew's eyes narrowed. "So we'll be gaining the Bane [Achievements] and pushing the monsters back to their strongholds. Then when you get there…"

"We launch a final assault, and I give you the [Chant]." Clay nodded. "After that, we can start sending your teams out on their own to clear other Lairs, since you'll have at least one person who can seal them. From there, we can add more teams or even start working with the Guild to seal more."

Mitchell nodded slowly. "That makes sense." He glanced at the rest of the camp. "So we'll divide into three groups, then?"

Clay glanced at Olivia. "Yeah. We'll have one of you hit a Lair each month, while the others head back to Pellsglade. It'd probably be a good idea to have at least some of us there, just in case the Dungeon does something weird."

He left it unsaid, but it was also a good plan in case the Guild tried something. Or the King. Or Merarbor. Or half a dozen other enemies they might have made…

With a shake of his head, he continued. "The first Lair I'll probably be able to reach is the one at Glanwood. Are any of you interested in that one in particular?"

Lana raised her hand. "That's the one with the frogs, right?" Clay nodded. "I'll take it. Who's going with me?"

Clay hesitated, but Olivia spoke before he could. "What about the Wheatrose siblings?"

The [Minstrel] winced. "Are you sure? They are kind of… difficult to manage sometimes."

Olivia shrugged. "Take Harry Wintergrass with you. It seems like Elizabeth is a bit more distracted with him along."

Lana's eyes lit up, and she laughed. "That might cause its own problems, but at least it wouldn't be boring."

Clay grunted. "Next up would be Rettmore. That's the one without much information."

Andrew raised his hand. "I'll take it. The [Noble] just called it the 'rot', right? I'm betting that means Undead of some kind." He grinned. "Might give me a chance to test out my tricks on a new target."

Mitchell gave him a sour look. "So you're leaving me with Ayleston? The place with the rats?"

The [Crafter] shrugged. "It seems like you'd enjoy the smell."

"Only because I've had to sit too close to you for too long." Mitchell snorted and shook his head. "Fine, then. I'm taking Herbert with me."

Andrew blanched. "What? What do you need a healer for?"

The [Guard] gave him a patient look. "Rats carry disease. I'm not letting my feet rot off because you stole him away to throw your experiments at things."

Clay snorted. Andrew grumbled something under his breath before he responded. "All right, then. If you take Herbert, I'm taking Alice and Martin."

Mitchell grinned. "Need some [Guards] to hide behind, then? I'm sure they'll love that news."

"Then that leaves Scott, Hadley, and Britney." Olivia ticked the names off on her fingers. She looked between the two men. "Would Scott and Hadley fit with you, Sir Mitchell? Then Britney can go with Sir Andrew."

The [Guard] grimaced. "That title still seems wrong to me." He looked at Andrew. "It does seem to be fine to me. Any objections?"

Andrew hesitated and then shook his head. "Not on my end, no."

Clay let out a satisfied breath. "That's settled then." He glanced up at the morning sky. They had been asked to meet the caravan at the gates in a short while. "In that case, Lana, Olivia and I will see you as soon as we deal with this escort. Andrew and Mitchell, fall back to Pellsglade and make sure things are stable there, and then set out for your Lairs when you hear that things are clear for the others. Send word if things go wrong."

They nodded, and he grinned. "All right then. By the time winter begins, we'll have shown everyone exactly what we can do." Then he turned his attention back to the soup still steaming in his bowl. "For now, though, eat up. We've all got a long road ahead of us."

After saying goodbye to the rest of the departing [Commoners], Clay and Olivia walked back to the road, and from there, down to Crownsguard. They didn't want to arrive late; the quicker they started their journey, the better.

At the same time, it was fairly nice to just walk along in the crisp air of the early fall, appreciating the leaves as they turned the forest around them into an ocean of orange, red, and yellow. Olivia seemed just as fascinated by it as he was, striding along with the war scythe tilted back over her shoulder.

He was watching her with a smile when she gave him a sudden, sharp look. "Something on your mind, Sir Clay?"

Clay snorted, feeling a touch of heat on his cheeks. "Oh, nothing at all Syr Olivia." She snorted softly, and he continued in an amused tone. "You know, you really did have them terrified in the Guild. I think you're going to be the death of Sir Bartholomew at this rate."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm sure the veteran adventurer will manage to survive my antics." Then she started chuckling to herself. "Though he may not sleep all that well for a bit."

He gave her a close look. The smile on her face was far too satisfied. A suspicion formed. "Just how many Codexes did you leave behind in Crownsguard?"

Olivia's stride hitched for a heartbeat, as if he'd caught her off guard. Her expression closed down a little. "I have no idea what you are talking about."

"So there's no chance that a bunch of Rectors have suddenly gained access to the Commoner's Codex? The book you wrote with a ton of the [Chants] listed out for them to learn and teach others?"

She seemed to hold out for a few moments more. Then she broke into a wide smile. "You should know. After all, your mother copied out half of them."

Clay groaned a little and rubbed at his forehead. He could only imagine what the Guild's reaction would be if they found out. Then he sighed. "Well, hopefully they don't find out until we are a good way down the road to the Sanctuary."

Olivia grinned. "All the better a reason to get a move on, wouldn't you say?"

The caravan was waiting for them at the gates, though it looked like they weren't quite ready to leave yet. There were three carts, all loaded with provisions and drawn by mules. A fourth cart, with seats built into the sides facing inward, carried almost a dozen people wearing robes.

Clay examined them with interest. He'd never met a member of the Peacebound before, though he'd occasionally heard mention of them here and there. They rarely made it into the stories of heroes and adventurers, for obvious reasons, and the Guild didn't exactly take great pains to advertise their presence either.

They didn't seem all that much different from the average [Commoner], at least until he looked closer. It was only then that he could see they moved just a little too quickly or seemed a little too aware of their surroundings. All of them wore the same set of robes, something that seemed to reflect some of the styles the Rectors occasionally wore.

One of the Rectors was actually speaking with a member of the King's army at the front of the caravan. His stance seemed steady, and the way the [Guard] was deferring to him suggested that the man held some position of authority. The Guild had only referred to the man as Rector Jersen and had asked Clay to meet with him in order to receive his orders.

Jersen turned from the [Guard] as Clay and Olivia approached. His brown, close-set eyes examined both [Commoners] in quick succession. He nodded. "Well met, Sir Clay. Well met, Syr Olivia."

Then he paused, looking pointedly at the road behind them. "I understood that we would have more of your people accompanying us. Was I misinformed?"

Clay smiled, hoping his own unease didn't show through. Technically, the Guild had only given him the assignment, not the rest of the [Commoners]. He still didn't want anyone realizing he was dividing his forces until after he was already a long way from Crownsguard, though, so the more he could put off informing the Guild of the change in plans, the better. "Nope, it's just us. We'll be more than enough for the journey, though."

Jersen studied him for a moment longer, his expression intense. Then he shrugged. "So be it. The Guild already informed you of your duties here?"

Olivia nodded. "We're here to protect the caravan until it reaches Hact's Sanctuary."

The Rector turned his attention to her. "You are to secure the caravan until we reach Hact's, yes."

It was a change in wording that Clay wasn't sure he liked. "By that you mean…"

"You'll defend us from bandits, monsters, and other such things, yes." The Rector glanced back at the rearmost cart and lowered his voice. "You'll also need to keep an eye on the Peacebound, at least until we reach Hact's. We don't want anyone… wandering off."

Clay blinked. He exchanged a quick look with Olivia. "We were told that the ones who were headed to the Sanctuary wanted to be there. In order to have a fresh start."

Jersen's expression tightened slightly. "That is true for some. Most, I'd say, yes." He shook his head. "At the same time, not all of the Peacebound are quite so… happy with their new role in life. Occasionally, some of them react poorly to being rejected from the Guild, or to the restrictions placed upon them. When the Guild feels it is prudent, they send such cases to Hact's at least until they feel more… certain about the future of the Peacebound in question."

With a growing feeling of unease, Clay looked from the Rector to the cart. The dispirited, slumped stature of some of the passengers suddenly took on a new meaning. "They are prisoners?"

The Rector hesitated. "Let's say, closer to honored guests in a difficult time of life, yes?" He sighed. "More than one Peacebound has recanted their Oath and attempted to become a Rogue instead. The Guild would rather be careful than have to spend resources hunting down the fools who would make such mistakes. Rogues who are… in the process of reforming can also be found there, watched over by retired members of the Guild."

"That makes sense." Olivia shrugged as Clay looked at her in surprise. "The Guild isn't going to want to keep a bunch of questionable adventurers inside the Academy, and the King isn't going to want to deal with them either."

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Clay frowned. "So you're just fine with the Guild keeping a bunch of people prisoner in some camp?"

The Rector grunted. "Hact's Sanctuary is much more than a camp, Sir Clay. It is a noble institution, one meant for the betterment of those who live there." He paused, glancing back at the Peacebound again. "Hact's is also run by the Rectory, not the Guild themselves. The people there are either retired members of the Guild or [Priests], all dedicated to watching over and guiding those who stay there. Once they prove themselves ready, they are often given the chance to go home."

As he still frowned over the concept, Olivia sighed and nudged him. "Clay, think about the other options. The Guild can barely keep up with their duties now; they definitely don't have the time to watch every single Peacebound. So they either kill every single Rogue they meet, they force every adventurer, no matter how rebellious or incompetent, to become active members of the Guild and risk being stabbed in the back, or they have a place to keep them alive and away from everyone else."

It made a certain kind of sense, but Clay couldn't help but feel a little uncomfortable about the situation. How close had he come to being bundled off in the same cart when he'd arrived at the Academy? Perhaps the entire trip was a warning to him and the other [Commoners] that they could face a similar fate in the future.

He opened his mouth to say so, only for a commotion to make him pause. Another group of Peacebound were being escorted down the road towards the carts, their robes easily identifiable as the crowds parted before them. Clay recognized the sentries walking alongside them; they were the same two adventurers who had confronted him when he arrived at the Academy a couple of days before.

Jersen nodded in satisfaction. "There are the last of them. Right on time too, yes." He glanced at Clay. "Make sure you keep a careful watch. The journey to Hact's should only take three days, four if the weather is bad and the roads worse. From there, I believe you can depart on your other duties."

Clay looked back at the Peacebound again, watching as the newcomers were encouraged to join the rest on the rear cart. He noted one of the sentries glancing in his direction; it would be a stroke of extremely good fortune if she didn't mention the missing [Commoners] when she returned.

That fact, along with the promise he'd made to see the duty through, stifled his remaining arguments. It was much, much better if he was well on the road before the sentries returned rather than staying here to bicker about technicalities. He sighed. "Very well, Rector. We are ready whenever you are."

The man nodded and then walked back to speak with the sentries. Olivia stepped up beside Clay and nudged him a little. "Are you really all right? It's only a few days."

"For us at least. Not for them." He heard thunder in the distance; he looked to the west and saw dark clouds gathering on the horizon. A gust of cold wind told him that the weather was not going to turn to their favor. Clay shook his head and sighed. It was going to be a longer journey than he'd anticipated.

The rain caught them just as they paused for lunch on the first day.

It started lightly at first, just a few scattered drizzles between strong brushes of wind. The clouds gathered overhead, a tide of grey slowly engulfing the blue sky overhead. As the wind grew colder and the light grew dimmer, the Peacebound broke out a collection of cloaks.

Clay and Olivia followed suit. The only one who seemed unbothered by the prospect of the coming storm was the Rector, who was riding the only horse in the caravan. He simply trotted away at the head of the group, his eyes fixed on the road ahead, as if utterly confident that his Rector's robes would weather the worst of the coming downpour.

They were still distributing the food when the final, brutal burst of wind tore through the group. The [Commoners] in charge of guiding the carts shivered and pulled their own cloaks around them, as did the majority of the Peacebound. Rector Jersen looked up and sighed, muttering something to himself about the road.

The rain started in earnest only moments later, with the first drops landing in thick, steady impacts that quickly accelerated into a constant barrage from the heavens. Those who had been slow in packing up the temporary camp suddenly tried to scurry and complete their tasks. Before long, they were once again on their way, with Clay and Olivia trudging along beside the carts while the Rector led the way.

Clay was walking along the road, trying not to notice the fact that he was once again getting drenched, when one of the Peacebound spoke up over the noise of the rain. "You. You're the Commoner Hero, aren't you?"

He looked over to see the young woman peering at him from under the cover of her hood. Some of the others were watching him as well, with varying levels of interest. "That's what they call me, yeah."

"I heard stories about you. You've already fought monsters." She shifted on her seat. "Are you expecting any here?"

Clay shook his head. "I don't think so, no." He looked to where the Rector was still riding up ahead. "We're just making sure that everyone gets to the Sanctuary safely."

One of the other Peacebound gave a bark of laughter. "Yeah. Sure." The man leaned forward, leering at Clay through the rain. "You might be a [Commoner], but you talk just like any of the rest of those Guild pukes. Makes me sick."

Clay's eyes narrowed as he looked back at the man. There were scars around his knuckles, and he moved with far too much confidence as he lounged on the bench. "You were a Rogue."

A broad grin split the man's face. "That's right, 'Hero'. I was. Still would be if they hadn't hunted me down. Not like you, who ran straight into their arms."

Clay snorted, remembering the days in the Tanglewood where he hid from Leonard and the others. "It wasn't quite as tidy as that." He examined the man a bit closer. "What were you doing? Fighting monsters?"

The former Rogue blinked. A hint of confusion crept into his expression before it faded beneath the hostility again. "I might have fought one or two. Mostly, I was just tending to my own business. As was my right."

"His name is Wynn Selmark." One of the other Peacebound shook his head. "He was a bandit. They caught him robbing caravans outside of Zanford."

Wynn glared at the other Peacebound, his fists tightening. "At least I did something. All most of you lot did was go to the Guild and fail to get in. You were a bootlicker that failed to lick well enough. What does that say?"

Clay raised an eyebrow at him. "That at least they tried to do some good in the world, Goodman Selmark. More than what you managed." The former bandit bristled, but Clay turned back to the other Peacebound. "Where are you from?"

The man shrugged. "My name's Simon Relfeld, from Tahllsburg." He paused. "I was never much for fighting, and the trials proved that, unfortunately. Better for everyone if I stay out of it."

Another Peacebound spoke up. "To be fair, he's a [Mage] and his only [Charm] wasn't a great one for combat. Just a shield." She looked over at Clay curiously. "Though I guess that didn't stop you."

A part of Clay had wanted to point that fact out, but he set it aside. Memories of how close he'd often come to death in the Tanglewood flooded in. Was it really right to criticize someone else for not throwing themselves into the same war blindly? "No, it didn't, but I've never been known for making the smartest choices." Several of the Peacebound chuckled at the remark, and he continued. "And you?"

"I'm an [Outrider]. Not much of a joiner, though." She blinked. "Oh, name's Ella Cartwright, if you wanted to know. Not that I think we'll see each other much."

Clay studied her a moment longer. "I suppose not." A thought occurred to him. "Simon, you have a shield [Charm]?"

The [Mage] nodded. "Just an invisible wall of a sort. Nothing impressive enough to win in a fight."

Privately, Clay wondered what it would be capable of if the young man had gotten a bit more physical training. At the moment, however, he had other concerns. "Can you change how it is angled?" Mystified, the [Mage] nodded again. "Use it and put a roof over the cart. At least then you won't be getting soaked out here."

Simon blinked. He looked at the others in the cart and then glanced to where the Rector was riding. "I'm… not sure the Rector would agree."

Clay frowned. "Is that part of your Oath? I'll admit that I don't know much about it."

The [Outrider] spoke first. "We swore to uphold the King's laws, to stay away from Dungeons and Lairs, to stay out of wars, and not gain levels." She shrugged. "There are worse things to promise, I suppose."

"Spoken like a real weakling." Wynn growled the insult, his hands clenching. "You might as well have been a [Commoner]. Your [Gift] was a waste."

Ella gave him a casual, dismissive glance. "If I needed the opinion of a beaten dog, I'd have asked."

As the former bandit snarled, Clay cleared his throat. "None of that suggests that you shouldn't be able to use your abilities. At least for something like this." He looked back at Simon. "Give it a try. If the Rector complains, I'll tell him it was my idea."

The [Mage] looked back at him for a few moments more. Then he nodded and gestured at the sky. There was a flash of light, and a transparent barrier formed over the cart. Droplets struck it and slid off to the side, turning the continual downpour into a small cascading waterfall over the sides of the shield.

Clay snorted and stepped a bit further away to avoid the splashing water. He grinned. "Next time, you might want to angle it a little more. Just to keep from letting it splash everywhere."

Simon nodded, wordless as he stared up at his shield. Thunder rumbled overhead, and Clay glanced toward the front. He caught sight of the Rector looking back at him, but the man turned his attention back to the road without further comment. It seemed like a decent sign, at the very least. Perhaps the journey really was going well.

The first escape attempt happened later that night.

They had pressed on until they'd reached the next village, a tiny place called Belsrun. The Baron of the place seemed to have been expecting them; there was even an inn of sorts, clearly used to housing the Peacebound as they made their journey north to the Sanctuary. Clay and the others had bedded down for the night, grateful to be out of the rain and in something approaching a comfortable bed.

Rector Jersen knocked on Clay's door a few hours later to explain that a [Fighter] by the name of Carson was gone. A quick inspection showed it was true; the next two hours saw Clay running through the nearby forests, tracking the man's journey east. When he found Carson, staring at a stream as if trying to figure out a good way across, the would-be fugitive simply shrugged and sighed, before they both trudged back to the inn through the continuing rain.

Tired and exhausted, Clay tried to get some more sleep, but he was still dragging his feet as they started down the road the next morning. Olivia seemed just as weary, having stayed up to watch the other Peacebound while he tracked the escapee, though at least her clothes seemed less waterlogged. The rain had lessened to an occasional scattered shower, but the roads were still poor as they continued their way north.

Unfortunately, the rain didn't seem to discourage the livelier among the Peacebound at all. A [Paladin] named Amy tried to wander off during their lunch, and Simon the [Mage] slipped away once they reached the village of Norfeld that evening. Both times, Clay had to run them down and escort them back to the group, feeling a bit more exasperated at each attempt.

As the journey went on, slowed by mud and rain, each of the Peacebound seemed determined to take their chance to run. Ella was the first to disappear into the woods the next day, followed by a [Mystic] named Geoff who tried to sneak away during the evening meal. By the time they reached the next village, Clay had resorted to riding in one of the carts rather than walking, trying to save his energy for the next escape attempt. Occasionally, he caught a quick nap, snoozing while Olivia and Rector Jersen tried to keep track of the Peacebound for him.

The pattern continued over the next three days, with at least one or two of the Peacebound trying to leave the caravan. None of them repeated attempts, though Clay did catch them looking a little longingly at the surrounding forests. Surprisingly, the only one who didn't make a run for it was the former bandit, Wynn. He simply sat back and smirked as Clay staggered into camp each night, with the would-be escapee at his side.

Just about the only upside was the fact that the rain began to clear as they made their way north. Chasing people through the rain and mud was bad enough; at least he would be tired, rather than tired and wet. Still, Clay was starting to look forward to hunting monsters rather than Peacebound. At least he felt good about tracking them down.

"I just don't understand it." Clay shook his head as he blew on the soup in the bowl in front of him. Steam drifted away from it and into the chill fall air. "They don't seem to be that unhappy. Why do they keep running?"

He sat with Olivia and Jersen a short distance away from the Peacebound and the cart drivers. The huddled group was gathered around a pair of fires. Clay was watching one Peacebound in particular; a [Dragoon] named Maria who was looking increasingly anxious. She hadn't run yet, but he didn't have much hope for the night.

The Rector snorted. "I'll admit, there've been far more attempts this year than there usually are. Part of which may be due to the fact that there are only two of you, and only one who can track." He ladled another helping of soup into his bowl. "I would've expected the Council to send a few more, at least. Usually there's half a dozen escorts, to give more eyes on the group."

Clay glanced at him. "It doesn't sound like you think that's all of it."

Jersen looked at him for a moment. Then he shook his head. "No, I don't." He looked back at the group, his eyes fixing on Wynn. "I think they might be… encouraged to run. At least the past few."

Olivia followed his gaze. Her eyes narrowed. "Why do you suspect that?"

"Usually, the first few attempts discourage the rest. They see they aren't going to escape, and they settle down for the journey." The Rector took a bite of his meal and then sighed. "The fact they keep trying, even when you are catching all of them, suggests there is something else at work."

Clay grimaced. "Great." He sighed over his own bowl. "There's no chance that you could help me out, right?"

The Rector shook his head. "I'm afraid not."

"You are an adventurer, though. An [Oracle]." Olivia's voice was both intense and curious, and Clay glanced at her in surprise. She blushed slightly. "I… might have snuck a peek. Sorry."

Jersen gave her an amused look. "I don't think adventurers are supposed to use that [Chant] without permission. Though I suppose you aren't adventurers. Still, I'd have expected the same courtesy from you."

She cringed a little, but Clay looked back at him. "So you aren't a [Priest] then? Are you retired from the Guild?"

"No." Jersen shook his head, his expression rueful. "I never qualified for membership, to be truthful. I was Peacebound before I ever reached the Academy."

Clay glanced at Olivia, who was studying the man intently. He looked back at Jersen, who seemed to be expecting him to ask the next question. "How? Did you already know the [Chant] for the Oath?"

The Rector smiled. "No. Not quite." He set aside his bowl and folded his hands in front of him. "In the years before my Choosing, my village was the victim of a group of Rogues. They were a particularly cruel lot, and that history somewhat soured my view of adventurers in general. I wanted to become a part of the Rectory, not the Guild, but the gods apparently had other intentions. At least at first."

Jersen leaned back and smiled. "The day I received my [Class], I immediately made a Vow. It's a part of the Path an [Oracle] can follow. You know this?" Clay nodded, thinking back to Xavien, and the Rector continued. "My Vow was likely different from the ones used by other [Oracles] in the Guild, though many among the Rectory use it. I foreswore all violence, forever."

Clay's eyes widened, and Olivia hissed slightly. "You can't fight. Ever."

The Rector nodded. "That is correct. Not against monsters, not against Rogues, not against escaping Peacebound." He shrugged. "It was a powerful Vow, one that brought me nearly to level eight—but it has guaranteed that I will never be of much use to the Guild. The Rectory welcomed me instead."

Slowly nodding, Clay reassessed the man. He'd expected him to be a simple [Commoner], like Rector Semmons had been back in Pellsglade. At least, before the Lair at Zelton. Now, however… "You still have [Charms] and [Sigils], though, right?"

Jersen smiled. "I do, though at least the gods smiled on my choice with what they granted me." He made a dismissive gesture. "Almost all of my spells involve healing or protecting in some way. My earliest was meant to give me a way to track a target that I've marked. It has been… helpful in my duties here."

"I see." Clay looked down at his bowl for a moment. Then he sighed. "So there's no way for you to help. At least not with bringing back the escapees."

The Rector nodded and ate another bite. Clay looked at Olivia and found her frowning at the Rector, seeming both baffled and wistful. Then he sighed and turned his attention back to his food. He'd need the nourishment if he was going to be running tonight. He didn't know what plan Wynn might have been encouraging behind the scenes, but at the very least…

His thoughts trailed off as he glanced back at the group. They had shifted positions again, and the former bandit was grinning at him across the distance. A stab of suspicion went through him, and he ran his eyes over the group. The urge to say something that Ameila Evergreen would not have approved of, especially in the presence of a Rector, flashed through him. "Rector?"

Jersen chuckled slightly. He made a gesture to the east. "I think Maria headed in that direction. My [Charm] only gives me vague impressions, but…"

Clay sighed. He tried to gulp down the rest of his soup, feeling some of the hotter broth scald his tongue and throat a bit on the way down. He set the bowl aside. "You have my gratitude, Rector. Olivia?"

"I'll watch the others, Clay." She was already glaring across the distance at Wynn, her fingers already twitching as if she wanted to reach for her scythe. He leaned over and grabbed her shoulder for a second. Olivia paused long enough to smile up at him, and then resumed her angry stare.

With another small groan, Clay pushed himself up to his feet. At least after tonight, they'd reach the Sanctuary. Then these Peacebound could be someone else's problem.

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