Equinox I

"Ferret needs you," the note read. "Come as soon as possible."

Ian looked about for the messenger, but the ragged boy had already melted away into the late afternoon crowd of the marketplace. He frowned as he looked up at the fading daylight. While Ferret was across the Channel in France, Blackthorn knew he could reach his old mentor in only a few hours, but it would necessitate a night away from Skye and the children. He headed for the stables, fully intending to send a guard with an explanation, but suddenly it seemed to fade in his mind as he set foot to stirrup and swung into the big bay's saddle. He'd send word from Ferret's camp. Yes... that would do.

A half mile from the gates of Camelot, Ian stopped, summoned a gate and rode onto the Road. As he began to close the way behind him, he smiled sadly. He'd known he would someday get this message. The life of a mercenary was a dangerous one, and Ferret had always been a frontline commander, never content to merely stay in the rear as his men died. At least he might have the chance to tell his old friend how much he had meant to him. But the further along he went on the Road, the more the mists characteristic of this way between worlds thickened. Even the ball of light he summoned to light his way was quickly lost to view.

Ian drew rein and frowned. This was not natural, and he came to the sad conclusion he could not keep riding on blindly, even if it meant he would miss the chance to bid farewell to his friend. He turned Horse back towards the way he had come, and swore softly. The way back was equally fogged in. "Damn it... " He dismounted and began leading Horse slowly back, trying to keep the glowing Road beneath them in sight. But the haze grew more dense, and even the ground was now shrouded in the roiling clouds.

In only a few steps, master and beast were fully engulfed, and now came the sound of silver bells. Ian swung his gaze about, no matter what direction he faced the bells seemed to be right in front of him. He struck out blindly in another direction, even though he knew this was a mistake.

"Never leave the Road," he'd warned his men, and here he was ignoring his own rules. Stories of men lost to those bells ran through his head, and then suddenly it seemed they just did not matter. In fact, he suddenly thought there was naught to fear here! Yes! The ringing grew louder, and the mist began to thin and shred on the loud wind that suddenly whipped Ian's hair about his face. He brushed it back, and when he looked in front of him once more...

A woman stood there. No... not just a woman. Blond hair glowing like the sun curled about her neck, and small colorful birds flew off and on her shoulders, bringing her news of the world. Across her chest, cradled in her arms, lay the branch of an apple tree, and the fruit it bore was silver, and rang with a clear sound that seemed to touch Ian's soul. But he refused to bow or kneel. Instead he merely nodded to her as if they were meeting by chance in the firehall. "Good eve, Rhiannon."

And Rhiannon of the Silver Bells smiled in reply. "Good eve, Iannovethallion Blackthorn. Well met. I have a task for you." She gestured him forward, and Ian hesitated only for a second before following her into the mist that once more hid all from view.