Once I learn of my friends' predicament, I cannot enjoy my good fortune in peace. I stand in the midst of the feast and don't stop fretting until I have convinced a handful of Inteans to come with me. The sun is setting, but I can't wait for better light. I have already wasted too much time. Who knows what they have endured in my absence?

It is clear that the Inteans know their way around the mountain upon which they have made their home. They have learned to traverse it without leaving a trace. They know all of the solid ground, and, though I am less adept at climbing than their practiced and unbroken hands, I manage it more easily than I might have without their guidance.

We find their camp easily, the telltale fire blazing high into the night. It strikes me now how easily the Inteans could have ended us. We are nothing compared to their stealth, their swords. That familiar creeping sensation visits me as I think of them watching us all this time, an unknown danger in the shadows.

I decide to step into the circle first as this will hopefully cause the least alarm. Agan, as usual, is the first to see me. Her usually impassive expression lifts in a grin. Next comes Köv, in tune with his companion, then Teak and Mab. Though she is the last to notice, she is the first to break free. I prepare myself for her running embrace, for the jagged shards of pain that shoot through my arms, but I still end up crying out at the impact.

Mab jumps back to assess me, and the others gather around us. Questions bombard me, but the gauntlet is the main point of interest. I explain my broken arm and my rescuers, who take this cue to step into sight (to mixed murmurs of excitement and uncertainty).

The party is greatly diminished, and Mab explains that, after several failures, people started turning back for more promising prospects. I am glad to see the faces that remain, though it is less than half of those I left behind that fateful night.

The Inteans grow quickly impatient with the emotional reunion and remind me that their dinner is growing cold. This final hike up the mountain is easy under the right guidance, and I can feel my companions' simultaneous relief and frustration at the easy end to the struggle of the last several days.

Exhaustion overtakes me, and I beg only for a place to sleep while my friends eat and drink. I have asked so much, but the Inteans are still accommodating. I am led into a spare room and barely have time to thank my hosts before I fall, fully-dressed, into a deep and dreamless sleep.

When I wake, the sun is high in the sky. This makeshift cot is the most comfortable thing I have ever felt, and I have great difficulty convincing myself to rise from it. My host family is lunching, but they insist that I bathe and change before joining. I can't blame them. I reek enough to sour anyone's appetite. When was the last time I had a bath? Sunia?

I sink into the steaming tub with a sigh and soak until the water cools around me. It is amazing how I have taken for granted the simple pleasures of a bed and a bath. Never again.

I wash the weeks of dirt and blood from my skin and dress in the clothes that have been laid out for me. My whole body feels relaxed, muscles unbound that I didn't even know were tensed in the first place. My skin feels fresh and raw after the vigorous scrub. I eat with leisurely pleasure and thank my hosts from the depths of my being. I have never enjoyed domesticity so much until now.

When I rejoin the others, they seem to be in similar states of bliss. Inte is nowhere near as welcoming or sunny as Sunia, but, in our relief, we forget to hold this against them. I oblige my hosts by partaking in tours of the working town though I want nothing more than to return to bed for the next several days. They show us the mines (with which I am already more familiar than I care to be) and the forge. The clang of metal against metal sings through the air from sunrise to sunset.

We are treated to expansive dinners each night in the Great Hall. It feels like a wondrous luxury after all of the times we have gone without, but I suspect that this is simply a way of life for the Inteans. I have been told that the chief wants to meet with me, but neither of us seems to be in any hurry. For now, I am content just to have a place to sleep and a full belly. As long as that is granted, what happens tomorrow is of no concern.