Ewan kept Taneth close as he spoke to the captain of the Yran Lark . Finally, after a few hours of letting her roam the ship and watch the open sea, the ship completed its preparations and left port. The destination was Yransea and Seansloe. The crew either sensed some strange fragileness in Taneth, or the hazy uncertainty of her demeanor was taken for simplicity, but she was instantly claimed by the crew as their personal duty to keep watch and care of her. Even some frowned at Ewan for an unknown failure on his part to protect the young lady.

Before the ship left, he had sent a messenger with a note to drop at Storm?s home. It had explained to Storm that he would be traveling briefly back to Yransea, but trusted it would not be more than three days. What he planned to do upon arriving there with the wayward Taneth was a struggling mystery. He had no idea. Sylvia would look after her, see her cared for, but her duties already took up much of her time. He felt sure Lenika, too, would lend her aid as would his mother. The heart of the problem was not knowing the problem. The first idea was simply to get Taneth away from the terrors and chaos of Rhydin. After that, well, he did not know. It ate at him.

Ewan prowled the deck into the late hours of the night, his hands clasped behind him and eyes on the boards below his feet. His thoughts drifted like the breeze on the sea to Kieran. In his mind the conversation they would have had over this played itself out in such clarity he nearly lost presence of mind in the world around him.

?One step at a time, Ewan, when the road before you is concealed, least you run headlong over a cliff.?

?I can catch myself on the side.?

?But not all those that follow after.?

?One step at a time, aye, Kieran, so I will,? Ewan sighed.

Ewan carried Storm?s bags with him through the hallways of Seansloe Manor. It would be the first time she would share a room with him here. The door to his outer room, no more than five paces across, was down the hall from the noble family?s collection of rooms. Inside were two chairs and a short legged table between the two that faced a quaint fireplace. He found his door open as evidently the servants had set about to airing it out. A fresh, cool scent from the window scarcely open had cast away the more stale and still air of the room closed up since Harvest Festival.

The return to Yransea was prompted by many things required of his position in life, but foremost in his mind was how Taneth was faring since he brought her here. The reports had been succinct and promising, but the uncertainty of what had happened to her still pinpricked anxiety at his mind. Her situation was the tapping tree branch upon a windowpane as a brewing storm announces its intentions; impossible to ignore and impossible to fix without harming the tree. Taneth was in the best care he could provide. With his instructions for her needs as far as he knew them, that too a troublesome truth that he knew too little, she had not been left alone while the family and he traveled as needed.

Storm had stayed at the family house for dinner with Maeve and the gathered and growing family. Ewan had gone on ahead to see to things and arrange the room a little more pleasantly. Someone had seen to that for upon the simple quilted coverlet, its adornments hand stitched of forest scenes, lay a welcoming gift for his wife. It had to be for Storm, unless someone thought he needed a silk shawl of dark green embroidered upon its fringed edge with cresting waves.

Ewan set down the bags in a corner near a small table and examined the other new adornment to his room; a vase of harvest flowers, radiant mums and rich toned linaria, accompanied by golden-red leaves still upon their branches. He muttered, ?Gain a wife, gain decoration I suppose.? It was not that he minded, but it did touch a bit of humor in him that curved a smile. The staff and servants had never paid much attention to his room or his comings and goings. It was just more to become accustomed.

His room and its changes were not of importance though, and Ewan left the rooms to find Taneth and see for himself how she fared.

Days of running errands, continuing his patrols, being husband and father, had left Ewan little time to catch up on the issues that required conversation. Not the least of these was telling Storm of the upcoming trip, the discussion of that trip with Kiema and Sylvia, and the interrogation of Master Frasier.

Ewan liked the man well enough, and even that he was doing his cousin a good turn. That the baroness enjoyed his company and the effect of his friendship was beneficial could not be argued. It was the simple fact that in his position everyone that sought friendship with his liege lady had to be known thoroughly, and Ewan did not know that of this man. It irked him as much as a splinter in his thumb, the random reminding nuisance that he had to get it done and not the time to do it.

Primarily, he had to talk with Storm, and Hudson would have to wait until he could catch the man at work sometime. Storm had her own worries; he could see it in her eyes when he came home at night. Something wearying her she had tucked back away from him, but she did not pry into his work and he was not going to start prying into hers. He did not like giving more worries to add to that burden.

And so he found himself pacing the Tunnels waiting for Compass to show and give him something to distract him. The Tunnels were warmer than the open air above. It was the heating of homes and the stones of the Tunnels that gave it the warmth in the winter, and Ewan took to traveling via the maze of tunnels more often. The footsteps of a man approaching were hard to ignore against the tip tap of other smaller creatures and the dripping water along walls.

?There should be plenty of news,? he greeted the man with a little more edge to his voice than he thought it would carry.

Compass raised a brow, noting that tone, and shrugged, ?The trouble is, there isn?t much. A few suspects, but nothing that we need to be involved with at this point. Enough noses are poking around there.?

?More deaths to happen first before we take a hand??

?Can?t save them all,? the man sat upon one of the barrels.

Ewan scowled, ?That is becoming a more irritating phrase each day.?

?But no less true for its irritation.? Compass rubbed his hands over his face. ?You could take a look at the north portion of the West End. Some what strange goes on over there, and we could use someone able to defend himself to get in a bit closer to one of the houses.?

?I can do that,? Ewan nodded.

?Good. I will get you the exact address by the usual method.? Compass stood, ?Now get yourself home, lad. You look as jumpy as a long tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs.?

Ewan sighed and they exchanged parting words. There was nothing for it. He would have to tell Storm because even the dangers of Rhydin seemed to conspire against him staying busy enough not to tell her.

The Tunnels were even more damp than usual. Cold, rainfall, moisture of the changing temperatures, the snow melt, all had conspired into a water symphony dripping and seeping from the stone walls of the Tunnels. Ewan kept close to one of the walls feeling the slow creep of its chill enter his back.

A hesitant golden glow made its way towards him. The clicks and whisper recognized, Ewan moved from the wall as he gave his own response and Compass appeared with torch in hand. "Things are moving," the man began without hesitation. "Two, maybe three, separate groups have gotten burrs up their backsides and are going to be taking action."

Ewan frowned, "All at once?"

"Some slower than others from what the lads have gathered."

"We are well out of it, then, yes?" Ewan asked for reassurance.

"Oh, well us as a group, aye, but some of us have been playing the roles in these other groups, and they have got to stay there and see it through."

"As long as they keep diverting the eyes away from the Tunnelers, then you all can still serve your purpose and help the Holding Houses do theirs. Are they in any danger?"

Compass gave a shake of his head. "Nah, haven't heard a word over it. Most they do the good and the small stuff. Keeps the City Guard free and weeds out the miscreants. I doubt the groups will take much notion of them. You set that one up well enough."

"It helps that none of us do this for our own glory."

A grin that was turned more insidious due to the harsh lighting passed over Compass's face. "I hear there are some who would like to bring good deeds to light."

"It will not be us." Ewan was not surprised someone from the Tunnelers knew and had gotten the news to Compass. That he was to meet with Sylvia later on the subject was also probably well known enough. "There are others better suited to that profession."

Compass gave a shrug. "You have a good trip, Quicksand."

"Keep an eye on these groups, Compass. I want to be sure they stay away from the Tunnelers and the Holding Houses."

A mild shrug, "They will, they will. You are the master of making significant things seem less so. It will be overlooked, not only because we seem insignificant, but even if we do not, we are of more use as a group than disbanded."

"I am not reassured, Compass. See to it they stay away when they start their plans turning." He gave a parting call over his shoulder, "Walk safely."

And he heard the same in kind echo back to him along the dank walls.

It was fortunate that a few new guards were reporting from Yransea to Yearling Brook in exchange for some there returning to Yransea. Those guards had gone ahead with most of the luggage except what Storm preferred to keep close, and some of Avery's personal things. Ewan walked with Avery on his shoulders through the forest lands northwest of the Yransea manor by half a league. "Glad to be going back home and see your school friends?" He looked up at the boy on his shoulders.

Avery made sure to position his hands far down enough so that Ewan could see them without craning his neck, *Some, but I will miss you and grandma more.* His hands then moved to rest back on his legs. Storm smiled and kept close to them, her pack carrying her and Avery's last belongings strapped across her front. "So I will, Avery." She nudged Ewan slightly.

"Well, I know she will miss you, but me?" he pretended to shrug and then one hand lifted to try and tickle at some ribs. "Be assured I will miss you and your mother very much. Things need to be done." He smiled to Storm and reached for her hand in the last yards of the walk to the Path.

Avery laughed and giggled silently at the fingers to his ribs, and his hand grabbed for a lock of rusty blond hair, giving it a playful tug. *You're so funny, dad.*

Storm looked up at Avery and chuckled softly, her hand laced in Ewan's with perfected grace, "Do you know how long you will stay?" The question was spoken softly.

Ewan shook his head. "I wish I could tell you. It seems negotiations are going well enough, so the plotters are not taking a hand into other guests? agendas. That only means I must dig deeper, and that could take some time." It was the best he could offer. "I will write as often as I can."

She kept the sadness in only the corner of her smile, and she squeezed his hand gently, "I know you will, beloved. I will need to go see the midwife when I return. Perhaps you can come with me next time."

"I swear that I will," he vowed. The return squeeze of her hand sealed that pact. "So, Avery what is the first thing you are going to do when you get home?"

Storm nodded and held her smile, knowing that he would keep to his vow.

*I think that I will see if there is any new snow and play in it.* A smile at the notion, *Or see if I may play with Brandon if there is not.*

"So," Ewan smiled as he reached up to swing Avery down from his shoulders, "no thoughts to helping your mother unpack or cleaning up before you go play?" A brow rose at the backwards suggestion in that question.

Avery bent his legs for a few moments, giggling silently as Ewan tried to set him on his feet. It did not last long, before he stood and took Ewan's free hand into his own, *I will help and take care of mom.* He gave a saluted wave that he had learned from watching adults.

Ewan quirked a brow, and looked to Storm. "He is starting to take up some of the Baroness's traits." He chuckled. "I do not know if that is a bad thing or not." Still, he turned back to Avery and gave a nod. "Good man. I know I need not worry about you."

"It could be much worse." She tried to nod solemnly, and reached behind Ewan to tickle Avery. Avery?s hand squeezed Ewan's and tried to hide behind him from Storm.

The playful moment ceased for the moment, before Avery grinned up to his father. *Mom and I will make a plan to get you into the brig next time!*

Ewan crouched down before Avery and nodded. "That you should. Plan well, for I am known to be very sneaky." Ewan looked one way and then the other and whispered as if it were a very great secret. "Perhaps you should try and trick me with dinner." Ewan grinned and then gave Avery a hug, and in all earnestness, "You take good care, my son. I will see you as soon as I can."

Avery took the great information in with great detail, and it was apparent that the precious information was tucked away. *I will!* His thin arms went around Ewan in what he imagined to be a fierce hug. *I love you, dad.*

"I love you, too, son." Ewan smiled and then rose to face Storm with a smile that held so many things: his love, his apology, his devotion, and his promise to see her soon. "You take care, too, beloved." His arms went around her in slow caress to memorize again the feel of her.

Storm was also memorizing the feel of him as she went into his arms. She memorized the security and comfort, and his scent as her face went into the curve of his neck and chest. Her arms were tight around him, knowing that the next time she would be able to was unsure. "I will write, update you as we go back to our boring life." She chuckled, almost a release of sad feelings that could be more openly expressed, "I love you, Ewan."

His hands moved from her back up to her shoulders, caressed her neck and cupped her jaw. He held her gaze with his eyes. "I love you, Storm. I will come back to you." He kissed her with the warmth of his love.

His gazed seemed to pierce right into her, and her breath held at his tender words. Her own response was put off at the kiss, her own heart poured into the simple action. Her own hands came up briefly to cup his face in return, the pads of her thumbs caressing his cheeks gently. "I know you will." Her whisper was tender, and she held their closeness for as long as she could. With more regret than what was expressed on her face, she pulled away and reached for Avery. They both gave him a last look and smile, before stepping through the portal back home.

?I could have done well enough without a trip to that place,? Ewan grumbled, arms folded across his chest as he leaned against a barrel. The Tunnels had a fresher, cold smell to them. Melting snow sent constant run off through the maze of underground byways, pressing the sludge and refuse on to the seat. Unable to fester and grow, the culprits of the stench were kept from abiding too long and the air freshened this rare time in the Tunnels.

?Mount Yasuo is a bit of a trip, Quicksand,? Maze countered with a rub at his stubbled jaw.

?Longer than going to my own home on another world. I cannot not go.? There was too much that troubled him about this trip. Sylvia sending him off, though at least in that case, she may have kept herself to Yransea. But she had not indicated as much, and a trip back to Rhydin, and its uncertainties to her safety, was all too easy for her to make.

Storm was another matter entirely. Over and over again the conflicts of their duties rose up. Was he to leave her for weeks at a time again? Have her leave behind her duties for what? A long trip with no purpose for her? They would have to leave Avery behind, because it was impossible to think of taking him out of school for such a long duration.

?Quicksand, you are sure in the thick of it.? Was the sympathetic sigh from Maze.

?Yes, well, I will find a way through. I always do.? Ewan gave a nod. At that, he turned the subject. ?Things still on course here??

?Like a bloomin? well oiled machine, err?well,? Maze chuckled.

?No, I understand the phrase. I have lived here long enough for at least that.? Ewan?s smile was bitter.

?Aye, so, well you have. Just let us know when you out and away, then, right??

Ewan rose from his lean and gave a nod. ?Of a certain. Walk safely.?

?Walk safely.?

The journey had been a revelation in odd ways, and Ewan had reported succinctly to Sylvia of what he had found there. He did not give all the details, but he could not deny that trade might work well and be beneficial to all parties involved. In fact, though this he did not share with the Baroness, he had made a greater contact for that of the Tunnelers and Holding Houses within his purview, Port South, Whistling Downs, and High End, than he had for Yransea.

A few days after his return, he stopped by Port South to check in with Gaston and share what he had learned. The holding house was busy in it usual rotation of patrols coming in and going out to see their duties in threes. Some familiar faces sent waves, unfamiliar faces saluted when they saw their partners acknowledge him in passing, then leaned their heads in to learn in whispers who he was.

?Ewan!? Gaston grinned and bellowed from down the length of the hallway where he stood outside his office door. ?Good to see you, lad, and all in one piece, too.? A meaty hand, scared and swollen at the joints from his long years of service, waved Ewan to come and join him. ?Come and tell me your latest.?

Ewan shook hands with the man and went inside the office to take a seat. ?Just what I intend to do, but you, of course, must start.?

Dropping his bulk into a protesting wooden desk chair, Gaston grunted, ?Were you expecting change??

?On some small measure of certain accounts of interest, yes,? Ewan replied with a smooth smile as he propped elbows on the arm of his chair and steepled fingers.

?Hmpf,? Gaston shuffled some papers from one side of his desk to another in physical representation of gathering his thoughts. ?We seem to be holding our own. Our turnover rate is lower than most, and we seem to have fewer fatalities than other holding houses,? he interrupted himself to clarify, ?that?s all three of us, mind.? At Ewan?s nod, Gaston continued, ?But I can?t say as we?re having more or less an effect than ever, lad. Oh, sure, we?ll be having a good day of it, close down some petty what?s it or not, but nothing that makes us feel we?re turning the tide.?

Ewan shook his head. ?You cannot turn the tide, Gaston. It is an uphill battle always with fifty pounds of rocks on our backs in addition. I will try to get some more recruits so we can rotate more people out and give a reprieve to those who have struggled the longest.?

A slow nod, but there was doubt written on Gaston?s craggy face, ?Is there reprieve??

Ewan rose from his seat. ?It is all about choice, Gaston.?

?Say that to the child in the street who just survived another one of those--?

?They choose to live here,? Ewan growled. ?This place does not disguise its evils.? He turned for the door but hesitated. ?We will do what we can, Gaston. I trust that you will keep this Holding House and the guards that list their names with us to the oaths we have taken. Oaths we made to keep to the line of our purpose. Walk safely, Gaston.?

?Aye, lad, but what of the news you had to share??

"We will meet with Vardin and Juliane so I do not need to repeat myself. Tonight at the usual place." And with that, he walked on.

Gaston nodded and watched the rusty blonde haired man leave and wondered how someone so young grew such a callus on his heart.

Ewan set out the fine blue doublet, its embroidery tasteful but not slight, upon their bed. It showed his supposed wealth in its making. He already had on the light lace touched tunic, sleeves and collar adorned in the high fashion, and the dark blue pants with the knee high boots. It was the last moments of his drying black hair that prevented him from drawing away the towel about his shoulder and donning the doublet. The preparation of disguise was not unusual in the late hour with Avery asleep and other matters tended to in their family home.

"And who are you becoming tonight, beloved?" Returning from the necessary room, her face a healthy shade of pink from scrubbing, she smiled to him. Looking at his items of clothing, she raised a brow at the adornments, "Have I been misinformed of your high position?" It was a gentle tease replaced with a kiss to his cheek.

A low, brief laugh, he returned the kiss to her cheek. "No," he shook his head, "I am still what I was before. Tonight I am a well to do merchant and to meet the requirements of the private club, must dress in the fashion. Only, this fashion," he grinned as he revealed clever cuts to the doublet that held weapons of various small constructions, "has a better purpose. I have not used it in some time, so I hope it is still fitting." By the fine cut of the pants, they at least still were. "Beloved, can you tell if my hair is fully dry?"

Her lips curled up slightly as he showed her the various hiding places within his jacket. It balanced the ornate embroidery well. "You are not old enough to say, 'if it will still fit you.'" The notion had her laughing slightly, "Unless you were a beanpole a few years ago, which I would not believe." At his request, she ran her fingers through his hair, purposely being thorough, "It feels dry to me."

"Mmm," his eyes closed and he relaxed involuntarily as her fingers ran through his hair. When she had announced it dry, he grinned and drew off the towel from around his shoulders, adding it to the hamper of other things to be washed another time. "Thank you." He drew on the doublet, drawing the lacings close, he tied them off with quick efficiency. "I hope I will learn more of what got Kayle into the mess. It seems he fell in with a man of means." The last word given more emphasis to reveal the true nature. "It will be an interesting night. Think I need to change up my facial features at all, or is the hair enough?"

As he tied the doublet, she took a seat on the corner of their bed, absently resting a hand to her abdomen. She studied his face with a solemn expression, "Perhaps something here," she leaned as much as she could to indicate is left eyebrow, before returning to her resting position, "Is it a man you have met before?"

A nod to her advice to the change, he went to the chest in the corner and drew out a much smaller case with its varying ointments and elements of forging his features. "I have heard of him in some less than appealing circles, but rumors are contingent upon the speakers. Sore men say sore things of those that have called them on their failings." He applied the glue across the brow, arranging so it looked like a cut had happened there years ago bisecting the brow. "It may prove interesting in more than one way, this conversation."

"And it is be only conversation?" Trying not to watch him in case he was using dead skin again, she busied herself by arranging pillows on the headboard of the bed so that she could scoot up and sit comfortably.

"A chance meeting, the plying of a few drinks, and the commiserations of brothers in merchanting," he turned with a wry grin. "I hope it stays to conversation. I would hate to have to kill the man outright, particularly if I have not learned what I need to know. Besides," he leaned over to kiss her soft and sweet, "even the not quite bad fellows can be used to the advantage of the good."

A hand lifted to rest on his cheek at the sweet kiss, ending on a soft sigh and a smile. A retort popped in her mind, but her second thoughts kept her from saying it. So instead, she studied the new eyebrow, "What will your name be?"

He straightened and stood his full height, then looked at his figure. "I think perhaps I am too thin," he chuckled. "Sir Michael Hawthorne. Do I look like such a fellow?" His expression change from humored to a ridiculing sneer, as if the very room in which he stood, though cozy, warm, and rather one of his favorite places, and become a muck pile which he was forced to stand near.

She could not help but snicker and giggle at his ability to change his demeanor. "Perhaps Michael is too soft of a name. You need something with a harsher tone. Ernest?" By this point, a hand came to cover her mouth before laughter became too loud.

He reached out to tickle at one of her sides. "Too unique. It needs to be a name that floats away and mixes with others. Since I am going to a club called the Thorn and Bud, hopefully the name will just fade among the drink and location." He turned very serious. "Call on Pei or the watch if you need anything, as I might not be able to leave the situation as quickly as I could otherwise."

She continued to giggle and caught his tickling hand before she would need to squirm away. At the swift and serious change, she brought up his hand to kiss the middle of its palm, "We will be fine here, beloved. I am pregnant, but my mind has not left me yet."

"I know very well your mind has not left you, just as well as I know you are pregnant. I just wanted you well aware of what the night might bring." He kissed her forehead and went to his chest of armaments, unlocking it, and drawing out the blade he had purchased in Jenli. This he slid down one of the tall boots, its slender and shorter construction suitable for its position there, and the flaps of the boot hid the shape of its ornate hilt. "There now, suitable enough, you think?" He stood with his arms out and turned about to show that the costume revealed nothing of what was hidden in its intricate folds and design.

She smiled warmly at the kiss to her forehead, and said nothing about his double checking. While she might find it amusing at times, she would never toss away his concerns. "Hmm" she studied him thoughtfully, trying to hide her smile by tapping the tip of her nose. "Come closer." She would wait until he did so, before twirling her finger to motion for him to turn around. She grinned as her eyes fell to his backside, "Looks perfectly flashy, beloved."

He looked over his shoulder at her comment and chuckled. "Thank you." He shook his head at her saucy reply. "I will allow you a more thorough review later." Setting one hand on either side of her, he leaned over and gave her a long, deep kiss, broke it only to whisper against her lips. "I will probably be very late tonight. Sweet dreams, beloved."

His offering of a review later only encouraged her own impish smile before his kiss. It was returned with no softness and no hold on her desire, keeping her hands at her sides so that they would not lift and undo the lacing of his doublet, "Late or no, I get that review, however tempted I am to have it now." A regretful sigh, before she gave him a tenderer kiss, "Walk safely."