Yahim had retreated to his room after breakfast, giving Aislinn time to visit with her uncle privately, and time for him to attempt to coax the last, lingering remnants of pain out of his aching head.

No, let it just be me for now, the thought occurred, the face reflected in the glass softening as Yasminna's thoughts replaced Yahim's. If Yahim's thoughts are contributing to this headache, I am better off without them for now. Though in truth, she knew it wasn't Yahim's thoughts, or even her own that were at cause for her foul mood -- it was her own foolish heart, and the even more foolish expectations she had regarding it.

Long, brown fingers pressed into the twin columns of muscle on either side of the vertebrae in her neck, using physical pressure to will away the tension which just the memory of her scene the night before with Tob evoked in her. Firmly, she continued pressing them up into her scalp, grabbing handfuls of neatly-combed hair to pull, sighing in relief as blood rushed into the muscles there, relieving the ache somewhat.

You did not hear what you wished to hear, Yasminna al'Sundarya. That is all, and you are not the first woman on Dryg-Gwra to experience it in dealing with a man, she thought, splashing water from the shallow bowl onto her face to rinse away the fake beard stubble. The face in the mirror still looked a little peaky, but much better than it had when she'd applied the disguise, hours ago. Tob sees you mostly as a man, obviously. You are a `remarkable woman' because, to him, you seem like a man. You saw him looking at Sanyangia, doubtless that is what a woman is supposed to look like, to be attractive to him. You are not that woman and you cannot be. So be a man, and deal with it as a man would.

A deep breath later, she'd turned to her door in order to seek out the library (knowing it was likely one of the last places she'd have to worry about encountering Tob) when she heard rapid footsteps lightly running down the hall without, accompanied by one bitter, suppressed sob.

Minna jerked the door open hurriedly. "Aislinn?" She asked in some disbelief, recognizing her friend from the height and the blond hair. She stepped into the hall to intercept the priestess, concerned at how she held her arms crossed over her chest, the tears streaming over the grayish-tinted cheeks. "Aislinn! What's wrong? What has happened?"

The priestess gave a little yelp of surprise, backpedaling a few steps. "Oh! Minna!" she gasped. She pressed a hand to her mouth, but it did nothing to hide the anguish in her voice. Tears still trickled from her eyes. "I'm sorry. I -- news from home," she gulped, shaking her head as if she still had trouble processing it.

"Come inside," Minna murmured, coaxing Aislinn into her room by the elbow. Though whatever had happened might have to be shared with everyone eventually, it didn't mean it had to be broad-cast right this minute.

She sat her friend down upon the side of the bed, then moved swiftly to pour her a cup of water and press it into her hands. "I am sorry, I have nothing stronger here at the moment, my friend," she said, crouching in front of her in an effort to meet her downcast eyes. "Drink, if you can. And tell me, if you wish. If not, I shall simply be here for you, so you do not have to suffer alone."

Aislinn gripped the cup in both hands. She lifted it to her lips and drank deeply, taking a deep breath after she swallowed. Her blue eyes held pain and horror. The pain was personal, the horror was for someone else. "Part of what my uncle wanted to speak to me about," she finally said in a low voice, "was to tell me what happened after we left. I was going to give him those letters I'd been writing. See if he could get them delivered to my mother." she choked back another sob.

"But there's no point, Minna," she whispered hoarsely. "She's dead. Was killed about the time I got on the ship to Portsdale."

"Ah Gods," Yasminna whispered, cupping her hands around Aislinn's, strong comfort and support while her mind responded in the way it had been trained. "How did this happen? Did your uncle know?"

"I don't know when he found out," she answered with a sniffle. "As to how it happened." she sighed, then moaned softly, bending over slightly. "It was one of Traugur's minions. What Atreus called a vurginord. It came hunting for me," she said, voice quavering dangerously before she swallowed the hysteria back down.

"Gods," the Sundar repeated, easing up onto the bed to take Aislinn in her arms at last. No need to trouble Aislinn about details if they can be found in the library -- or by speaking with Atreus -- later. "I am so sorry, my sweet friend. My heart is no stranger to your grief, and knows no words can compass it," she murmured, rocking Aislinn gently, giving tacit permission for the sorrowing priestess to vent her mourning.

Aislinn hugged her friend to her, tightly, clinging desperately as she sobbed. Even though she'd already cried in her uncle's arms, this second wave of grief, pain and horror bit deeper. It lasted quite a while, that storm of weeping. Yasminna held her friend gently, but firmly, rocking with her, not trying to shush her or make her stop. The grief of the motherless child is one of the most profound and in this Aislinn's heart was twice-rent -- once for Sara, the Mother who had taken her in, raised her, and loved her; and ultimately for the woman who had given her birth, the mother she had never known.

When it ended, the priestess shuddered and sighed, hiccupping again. "Thank you, Minna," she said softly, sniffling. "A part of me still doesn't believe it, but I know Atreus wouldn't lie. Not about something like this."

"Of course he would not. He is a priest of Verengaard," Minna agreed, handing her friend a fresh handkerchief, then moving to the small washstand in her room to wet a cloth. "Though this truth must have been a hard telling, for him. Sara was his sister, was she not?"

"Yes, she was," she nodded, swiping at her eyes again. "We cried together, a little. I think the thing that hits hardest is that she died in violence. Something she went out of her way to avoid. Well that and it was one of Traugur's minions hunting me," the heart-broken blonde groaned. She let herself drop back onto the bed, on her back, staring up at the ceiling. "Atreus told me that the vurginord can take three forms, their most powerful being a devourer. Something that steals the thoughts and memories of those they kill, Minna," she whispered, still horrified at that.

"And she knew it was coming. Stayed in order to give me a headstart."

So the Lord of Lies knows that Atreus took his intended and left for Banamyr... Yasminna thought, sitting on the bed beside Aislinn and handing her the cool, damp cloth. "Here, my sweet friend. It is not much comfort, but it is what I have, for the moment."

Aislinn took the cloth with a smile. "Thank you." She placed it over her eyes and forehead.

Probably knows Atreus did not go into that city... and likely has discovered that Aislinn sailed for Portsdale. I wonder if a vurginord can travel over water?

She stretched out beside her blonde friend, placing one hand tenderly on her abdomen, just below the ribcage, for the simple comfort of human contact. "Your Mother Sara was a remarkable, brave woman," the Sundar said softly. "It takes a rare kind of courage to stand one's ground when one knows the end is coming. I wish I could have met her."

"I wish you could have, too," Aislinn sighed softly, grasping Minna's hand. "I wish you all could have. If I could have chosen my own mother, I don't think I could have done better. I only hope I'm half as good should I be blessed with children," she paused and, surprisingly, she laughed. "Other than the lot of you I've fallen in with," she said, giggling now uncontrollably.

Post reactive grief hysteria, the young spy surmised, grinning at her friend's almost hysterical mirth. Feels healthy enough...

"Consider us your practice run," she murmured dryly. "After dealing with us, imagine how easy it will be to raise your own."

Gales of laughter came from the priestess at that. It lasted a few minutes and when she finally quieted down to mere gasping breaths, Aislinn removed the cloth from her eyes and smiled at her dark-skinned friend. "Thank you, Minna," she said again, utterly sincere and grateful. "I had hoped to get to my room without anyone seeing me, but I'm glad that didn't happen."

"I am also glad," Minna smiled. "A burden of grief is halved in the sharing. It is a truism, among my people." Her voice drifted off a bit, then she sobered. "Will you tell any of the others?"

"I'll need to tell everyone about this, but… tonight at dinner, I think. Atreus said Janus may know more about the dread wolf and felsteed forms of the vurginord. Now that we know what's hunting me, at least, it may change some plans."

"That it may," the Sundar ageed thoughtfully. "Tob will have some ideas perhaps, in how to throw it off the trail, barring all else."

"Even if it means I lead it on a wild goose chase while the rest of you find the child," her friend said softly. "I'd be more than willing to do that, but I know I'm not all that Traugur is after. He's after the child, too and possibly Janus."

Yasminna squeezed the hand she held gently; her nod was much more reluctant. "You are your mother's daughter. And it may come to that, but my sense of this is that the Lord of Lies cannot afford to ignore any of us, Aislinn. No one of us is really more important than any of the others. Traugur must make sure we are all destroyed if he is to have any surety of success in his plans. As long as even one of us remains with breath to draw, his future is in jeopardy.

"And so we must cover one another, as much as we can," she concluded with a deep breath. "Put personal issues aside and do what must be done. I have been working on that myself, a bit, now that your tea has cured my headache."

Aislinn listened with the stillness that said she heard more than the words out of her friend's mouth. "To some extent," she said thoughtfully. "You are probably better at it than any of us but don't let the task become all, either. The last few lines in the prophecy keep playing in my head. The ones about love and forgiveness. I told Janus before we even got to the Oracle that our ability to love is our saving grace. Turns out, it may not have been as silly and naïve as it sounded." She turned and grinned at her friend. "So, am I forgiven for being so terse myself, this morning and treating the three of you like squabbling three year olds?"

"Yahim kissed you, did he not?" she laughed, eyes dancing merrily. "In my opinion, there was nothing to forgive, Aislinn. You did what was needful. And I, for one, appreciate it."

The fair skin turned rosy for the second time that morning. Aislinn laughed, this time with no hint of hysteria in the sound. "He's a scoundrel, that one," she grinned. "Well, hopefully the other two see the same reason. I have to admit to feeling a little like a child, myself. Seems as if everything interesting happens after I go to bed."