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Holding out his hand, Dave concentrates on forming something similar to the glowing orb he saw James make. After several moments, nothing happens. Lowering his arm, he gazes to him with a frustrated look. “Can’t do it.”

“Maybe once you’re life has quieted down you’ll make it happen,” encourages James. He can see his friend’s disappointment at not being able to summon the orb.

“Maybe,” he says. “What else can you do?”

“A lot,” he replies. “Whatever I can imagine, provided I have enough power to do it, I can.”

For the next several hours, they sit and talk about this world, magic, and some of James’ experiences since coming here. He doesn’t mention the Fire or some of the other stranger occurrences he’s encountered, like spirits of dead priests and headless torsos.

After lunch, he takes Dave back to the workshop where they spend the rest of the afternoon just being together and talking of old times. It seems that reminiscing about the past brings him a better mood, or maybe it’s just being away from the others.

That night during the evening gathering, Dave seems a little more animated, as if his old self is once more trying to assert itself. A smile actually comes to him during one of Tersa’s songs.

Seeing his friend come alive more and more gives James encouragement that the devastation wrought upon him by his time as a slave may not be irreversible. On their way to bed after the evening winds down, he actually hears his friend humming one of Tersa’s songs to himself. He goes to sleep feeling much better about things than he had the night before.

Get out!

A cry startles him out of a sound sleep in the middle of the night. Then another scream followed by the sound of a scuffle. Thinking they’re under attack, he grabs his slug belt and races out the bedroom door.

In the light of a candle held by Roland, he sees Jiron on top of someone outside of Tersa’s door. One of his knives is held to the throat of the man on the floor. As he comes closer, he sees it’s his friend Dave.

“What happened here?” he demands as the others in the house come to see what the commotion is. Illan and Fifer both have their swords in hand believing an attack was in progress.

Everyone starts talking at once. “Quiet!” he shouts, cutting through the noise. Everyone becomes quiet as they look at him. Turning to Jiron he asks, “What happened?”

“Your friend here was about to accost my sister!” he says with vehemence.

“I didn’t do anything James,” exclaims Dave. “I swear!” He may not have understood what Jiron had said, but the accusation in his voice was unmistakable.

From the doorway to her room, Tersa says, “He came in here and grabbed me!”

He sees the pleading in Dave’s eyes and the anger and promise of violence in Jiron’s.

“I’m sure this is all a misunderstanding?” he says.

“Misunderstanding?” shouts Jiron. “I aught to kill him right now!”

“I went to the bathroom and got mixed up in the dark,” pleads Dave. “I got lost and went into the wrong room!” He looks to James, imploring him to believe him.

“Get off him Jiron,” he says.

When Jiron hesitates, he adds, “Now please.”

With hate in his eyes, he gets up off the frightened Dave. The knife in his hand remains out and threatening.

“Dave, get back to our room,” James tells him.

Scrambling to his feet fast, Dave moves quickly to James’ room and they hear the door shut.

Every eye is upon him. “He simply went into the wrong room is all,” he tells them. “I’ve known him a very long time and I assure you, he isn’t like that.”

Jiron comes close to him and says, “Just keep him away from my sister. I held back because he was your friend, I won’t a second time.” After meeting his eyes for a second in defiance, he turns and moves into Tersa’s room and then shuts the door.

“Everyone back to bed,” Illan announces to the rest. “Nothing more to see.” As the others begin moving back to bed, he comes over to James and asks quietly, “Was it a mistake?”

“It has to be,” James says defensively. “Dave isn’t like that.”

“A mistake it may have been, but whatever