"Try to remember, Jynna," Etan whispered as S'Doryn drew nearer. "It'll be better if you remember."

"I am trying," she shot back in a low voice.

They didn't have time for more.

"We've been looking for you," the Fal'Borna said, as he reached the top of the hill. He was slightly out of breath, and tiny beads of sweat covered his brow. His bright yellow eyes flicked toward Vettala. "For all three of you, actually. We'll be leaving soon, returning to Lowna."

"So you are taking us with you," Etan said.

S'Doryn frowned, though there was a bit of a smile on his lips. "Of course we are. You thought we'd leave you here?"

Etan shrugged and wouldn't look at him again. After several moments, the Fal'Borna glanced at Jynna, a question in his eyes.

"I haven't been able to answer your questions," she said. "We were afraid you were angry with us."

He shook his head and smiled, the kind smile she remembered from the first morning she met him. An instant later, though, his brow creased again. "No," he said. "We're not angry. If we thought you were keeping things from us on purpose, then maybe we'd be angry. But I don't think you're doing that."

"We're not."

"Tell me about the woman again," he said. "The Mettai." They'd been through this before. Then again, they'd been through everything at least two or three times, and the old woman was the only odd thing that Jynna could recall from that last day in Tivston.

"What do you want to know?" Jynna asked, her voice flat. "When you found her, she was doing magic. Isn't that right?"

"Yes. She was in a thicket of trees, with her baskets spread out around her."

"And do you know what she was doing to them?"

"I've told you. I know, but I can't say. I promised her."

"Jynna, there's a good chance that this woman is dead by now, killed by the same pestilence that took your family."

"What if she's not?"

"What if she's responsible for what happened to your village?" S'Doryn answered.

"She isn't."

"What if she lied to you, Jynna? What if none of what she told you about the magic she was doing was true?"

Jynna shook her head and opened her mouth to deny it, but then she stopped herself. Maybe S'Doryn was right. How much did she really know about the woman? Hadn't she been afraid of her at first? Hadn't she tried to run away?

"She was coloring her baskets," she finally said, her voice low. "Coloring them?"

"Mettai baskets are supposed to be made by hand and dyed by hand, too. They're less valuable if they're colored by magic. But she had some new ones that she needed to color, and she hadn't brought her dyes with her."

"And that's what she was doing when you found her."

She nodded. "She made me swear that I wouldn't tell. And when I promised, she gave me another basket."

S'Doryn nodded slowly, but he was frowning still, as if deep in thought. "So she only had out a few of her baskets."

Jynna stared at him. "What?"

"Well, you make it sound as though she only needed to color a small number of baskets. The new ones, right? So if that's the case, she would have had out only those that needed coloring."

Jynna shook her head slowly. "She had all of them out." Her stomach felt queasy and her mouth had gone dry.

"You're certain?"

She nodded, feeling more ill by the moment. Had the woman lied to her? If she wasn't coloring the baskets, what was she really doing to them? "I helped her pack them up and carry them to the marketplace. She had all of them out, spread in a half circle."

"And you're certain she was really using magic on them."

"She'd cut herself. That's how they do it, right? They use their blood?" "Yes."

"She was doing magic, then." A tear rolled down her cheek and then another.

“Jynna-"

"It's my fault," she sobbed. "I should have run and found my father as soon as I saw her. That's what I started to do, but she called me back and I listened to her."

"We don't know anything for certain, not yet."

"But she lied to me!"

S'Doryn hesitated. "She may have, yes."

"She must have been doing something to those baskets. Why else would she lie? She put a curse on them or something. She made everyone sick."

"Not you," he said. "You say you handled the baskets?"

Jynna nodded, took a long breath, nodded again. Perhaps it wasn't her fault after all. "Yes, I helped her pack them, and she gave me two. One I gave to my teacher, the other I took home to my mother."

S'Doryn opened his hands and smiled. "Well, then it probably wasn't the baskets, right?"

"Right." She actually managed a smile, though it faded quickly. "But then why would she lie to me?"

"Most likely she colored all her baskets with magic, and didn't want you to know. You're right: They are more valuable when they're dyed by hand. She probably was afraid they'd fetch a lower price in the marketplace if you knew the truth."

Jynna nodded, feeling better. "Probably."

The smile remained on S'Doryn's face, although it began to seem forced. Jynna could tell that he had more questions for her, but after a few moments, he merely turned and started back down the hill.

"We'll be leaving soon," he said. "You should come down and make sure that you have all your things packed and ready to go. I want to be back in Lowna well before nightfall."

"All right," Jynna said. "We'll be down in a moment."

He nodded and continued down the slope.

She looked at Etan, only to find that he was watching her, a guarded look in his pale eyes.

"What?" she said.

"Do you really think it was your fault?"

"No. You heard S'Doryn. If it was the baskets I would have gotten sick."

"Maybe it wasn't the baskets. Maybe she did something else. My f-" He looked away. "People say that the Mettai are evil. That's why they do blood magic."

"It wasn't her!" Jynna said. But she had her doubts. The Mettai witch had been odd; Jynna had continued to think so even after the woman gave her the baskets and the beautiful flowers.

"It might have been."

"No! It wasn't!"

"Don't fight!"

They both looked behind them at the same time. Vettala was standing a short distance off, her fists clenched, her face looking pale in the sunlight.

Etan and Jynna exchanged glances.

"It's all right, Vettala," Jynna said.

"No, it's not! You can't fight!"

"Why not?" Etan asked.

"You'll make them mad, and they'll send us away, maybe back to the village. They won't take care of us and we'll be all alone again."

"No, they-"

Jynna laid a hand on Etan's arm to stop him.

"It's all right," she said. "We won't fight."

"Promise?"

She nodded. "Promise."

The little girl eyed them both a moment longer. Then she nodded once and started down the hill, following S'Doryn's footsteps. "Come on then," she said, without looking back. "We shouldn't keep them waiting, either."

S'Doryn was still pondering what he'd learned from the girl when he found T'Noth and T'Kaar.

"You look like you've lost something," T'Kaar said, as S'Doryn drew near to where they were sitting.

T'Noth laughed. "That happens as you get old. You'll have to be careful, brother," he added, with a sly look at T'Kaar. "It won't be long before you're misplacing things as well."

"What's wrong?" the older brother asked, ignoring the gibe. S'Doryn shook his head. "I'm not certain. It's probably nothing." "Probably," T'Kaar repeated.

"The girl told me a bit more about that old Mettai woman she saw in Tivston the day the pestilence struck."

T'Noth's expression sobered. "What about her?"

"Apparently she was using magic on all of her baskets."

"Didn't we know that already?"

"Yes."

The younger man raised an eyebrow.