The frost had not quite come, but Morgana wasn't taking any chances. She and the Acorn were very gently moving some of the herbs into pots in hopes that they might last through the winter.

"First," she said to Acorn, "we dig all the way around the little plant--ah-ah, not too close, they have roots down there." She put out a hand to stop Acorn. Fortunately it was just the rosemary; there was enough of that that one or two could be spared.

Acorn looked curiously at the plant. "Roots?"

"Yes, under the ground. They're like its little feet." Morgana lifted her tiny plant, dripping crumb of earth, into the pot, while Acorn regarded her own well-bundled feet. "Plants got feet, Mumma?"

"Yes," said Morgana. "You don't want to cut off the poor little plant's toes, do you? So you have to go very carefully all the way around--" She guided the little girl's small stick in a loose circle through the ground.

Feet... toes... she stepped gingerly in the cold, bare feet on cold grass, on soft soil. Her hair had darkened to an almost auburn red, like leaves caught in frost. Her skin was tanned like the soft bark of a tree, but she was as human as they came and a stranger to these wilds. She knew it and smelled it, stepping carefully to avoid angering powers old and nasty enough to touch her. The wind was cold, and her dress had grown thick and wooly, with layers of scarves in greens and oranges sweeping down around her shoulders, but her feet remained naked and bare under the hem. In her arms she held a square package pressed against her chest, wrapped in clothes and securely tied together with string.

"Hello there" She said to the tangle of wards in front of her. She wondered if she could brush them aside like spiderwebs, or whether that would make her the fly, helplessly struggling in its net. "Would you let me in?" she asked, tilting her head just a little.

Morgana stood up swiftly at the first stirrings in the wards, her eyes narrowing, while the Acorn, less disinclined toward unexpected guests, dashed off to lean on the wall. "Hullo, lady!" She waved. "Mumma, there's a lady!"

"Come back by me, Acorn," Morgana said sternly.

Acorn was not used to hearing that voice from her mother. Surprised, and more than a little disappointed, she toddled back, pressing herself against her mother's skirts. "All those who seek aid and bring no harm may enter here," she told Alynealin.

She nodded sagely and gently put the package down on the ground outside of the wards. She patted it a little, and whispered something unheard to it, then she straightened and passed through the wards, looking a little wary as she did so. They tickled.

"I am but following footsteps" she started, looking to the ground around them as if she expected to see them there. "Aid... yes, aid is what I am seeking. or was it revenge?" She frowned a little, then shook her head. "No. No, the time for that is past." She was speaking mostly to herself, and it took a few moments before she had stilled herself enough to fix her dark eyes on Morgana, bringing her hands together in a slight bow. "I seek the Magus."

"There's no magus here," Morgana said. "What aid did you seek?"

Acorn peeked out again, quickly, and waved. "Hi, lady!"

She reached out and probed the ground in front of her with a toe, her face wrinkling together in focus. "You are right. They are not here..." she begun, only to be distracted "Oh hello there little tree." She smiled at Acorn, then grew serious once more, running a hand over the winds as she smelled them.

"They were here not long ago, and then they left. The new Magus, and the not-old one. I... need to know where they went, I have something for them." She looked back, over her shoulder, but the innocent looking bundle remained where it lay on the ground.

"I am not an enemy now."

Acorn scrunched her face and laughed. "I'm not a little tree, I'm a little person."

"Shh, dear." Morgana laid her hand on the child's head, never taking her eyes off the strange woman. "I fear it's not my place to say where they've gone if I don't know who you are or what you want of them."

"I am the one that danced the eetalyan out of mediocrity and put him on the path to be the new Magus. I am the once wife of the old Magus, before the worlds broke and the fire from the sky came. I am the dancer that remains when the world has gone to ashes, and our paths have crossed time and time again, but never touched." She paused her recital, her toes digging into the mud, feeling the earth, feeling connections, feeling... she took one step back, her hands swaying slightly as she did so. "I am the mother in law of the one you know as Seth. I am the mother of the one you know as Jochy. I have born two children with the man you know as Morgan. I name these names to show you my intent is not an ill one, and I name myself Alynealin, as a gift to your curiosity."

"And still all I can tell you is that the ones staying here have been and gone, and you've missed them by one day and some few hours, mistress," Morgana said politely, with a nod of acknowledgement at the woman's naming. "Although neither of them are magi, unless they've been most clever at concealing the fact."

She smiled politely, nodding to herself. "I see, a day and a few hours, I shall have to find my path again. There are only so many ways the dance would take them..." She bowed her head, letting her hair cover her face for a moment, smiling towards the ground. "A magi is not a Magus" she giggled, "They are completely different entities..." She straightened again, taking another step backwards, more forcefully this time. "I will dance onwards then, my tha... agh!" She broke off her step, slipping and falling to the ground. With a whimper she touched her foot where she sat in the mud, wincing when her palm came away red with blood.

"Shit!" she said in a much less lofty voice. "I hate this crap!"