Merse struggled to keep her expression even, despite the fact that Drin had tensed up. That the Conglomerate would have people watching even the ferries was Merse's biggest worry. Furthermore, this archmage had singled them out of the crowd, which didn't bode well. While appearing to adjust her position, Merse surreptitiously pinched Drin, who let out a surprised "Oop!"
"Are you in pain?" the archmage asked, concerned.
"Oh, uh...no, the baby just kicked," Drin smiled sweetly, resting a hand on the distended cloth over his belly, which actually covered a bundle containing their armor and weapons. After what seemed like an eternity, the ferry reached the opposite shore, and the passengers disembarked. As Merse and Drin were about to head on their way, they were halted by a cry of, "Just a minute!" from the archmage. Supporting an increasingly shaky Drin, Merse turned with a pleasant look plastered on her face. Before she could react, the archmage quickly chanted a spell at Drin, then smiled at the two of them.
"It's just a simple healing spell, but it should make your journey easier until you reach the doctor. Best wishes for a healthy child!" the archmage explained kindly.
"I thank you for your generosity," Merse said evenly, her heart still in her throat, then quickly ushered Drin down the road. It was not until half an hour later and well into the woods that Merse dared to pause. Drin, drained from the tension, dropped his "pregnant belly" and collapsed under a tree, breathing hard.
"Do you think she suspected anything?" Merse asked a few minutes later as she changed back into her usual garb and donned her weapons.
"Beats me," Drin spat out. "But the healing spell helped at least, my skull stopped throbbing long enough for me to swipe these," he grinned, displaying three pouches and a vial.
"YOU ROBBED AN ARCHMAGE?" Merse bellowed furiously in disbelief.
"Well, considering I killed one two days ago...." Drin smiled sheepishly, doing nothing to allay Merse's ire.
"You fool! What if one of those things allows her to track us? We're trying to get away from archmages, not draw them to us!" Merse ranted.
"Hmph, if she could track them, she would've noticed right when I took them," Drin snorted. "Besides, maybe they'll come in useful."
Merse glowered at Drin, but in the end the two quickly dressed and continued on their journey together, although Merse insisted they stay away from all populated areas until they reached Dregsbale in hopes of avoiding any further complications. What Merse did not realize was how justified her worries were.
**********
The archmage sighed as she watched the heavily pregnant peasant and her husband trundle down the road away from the ferry. Wasting time healing peasants was far below her pay grade. However, she had received strict orders from the Conglomerate: keep an eye out for any injured travelers. Thus far there had been four using the ferry that day alone, a relatively normal amount to see considering how dangerous the roads were. Therefore, she had cast four healing spells. However, what none of the beneficiaries knew was that each of those spells had been ever so slightly modified, for a tiny portion of the archmage's magical energy had been attached to each of the people she healed. It wouldn't last long, but it would allow her to track those people for at least two days. While the archmage had no idea why the Conglomerate had ordered her, as well as many others, to perform this menial task, rumor was an incident had taken place involving one of the Conglomerate's other archmages, a witness to which may have been injured and fleeing the scene. While such duties would normally be farmed out to mercenaries, certain delicate tasks could only be completed in-house, so it was obvious there was more to the incident than the Conglomerate was letting on. Nevertheless, it was not like the Conglomerate would provide any answers to satisfy her curiousity, so the archmage trudged back aboard the ferry, carefully observing the passengers making the return trip.
**********
The leader of the group of archmages stood just on the outskirts of the Pith Swamp, glaring into the mist. Shortly, a figure gingerly made its way towards him.
"Sir, we were unable to venture in very far. Flying spells have little use, as the fog makes it impossible to see the ground, and the swamp has covered up most tracks. However, we were able to locate one thing," the archmage's subordinate reported, and lifted the white silken strands. "It was in a tree high above the ground, but we weren't able to find any tracks." His eyes round as saucers, the leader grasped the sticky threads, noting their thickness and strength.
"Maybe we can salvage something of this blunder," he muttered to himself, then turned to his subordinate, his eyes gleaming. "Send out a squad to examine the perimeter of the bog for any sign that anyone left. Everyone else is to scour the swamp for the spider that left these strands. With any luck, it's still alive!"