[Child of the 7th Age]

Cami sat in her cabin studying the daybook which lay in front of her. Already the cover showed the impression of many fingers which had lovingly touched it, night-after-night. Cami usually left the journal lying open on her table for anyone to come and have a look. She'd encouraged her friends to add their own thoughts into the narrative. Now these scattered notes were like a trail of memory that bore witness to all they had seen.

Cami took up her pen and added several comments about the events of the day. If only she could be sure that the final words would reflect as much hope as the ones she wrote tonight. But she'd learned that certainties were few. For even as one story ended, another began. And it was rare for people to recognize in their own lives where that point of transition was.

Perhaps her own ending had come this evening when she'd spoken with Piosenniel. They'd talked at length about the hobbits in the tombs and how Rose and Cami would journey there, just as they'd gone to Beleriand. But, this time, there was a difference. Even if they managed to return to the Star, she no longer thought of it as her home, but only a stopping point on the way to someplace new.

Still, Cami thought, the writing felt familiar and comforting. So many months, so many tales! For one instant, she considered keeping the journal tucked under her belt and bringing it with her to the Third Age. It would be a pleasure to relive the trek to Tol-Fuin or the startling moment when they'd first encountered Kali. She weighed these thoughts in her mind and gazed at the volume which she held in her hand. Then she regretfully set it down. It did not belong with her. It was the heritage of the hobbrim, and she, sad to say, was no hobbrim. That, too, she'd learned from the Star. Like Firiel, her heart and feet were too deeply held by the soil to consider a life bound to the Sea. Part of her wished that was different, but she could not change who she was.

A tiny knock came on her door. That must be Rose, Cami thought. She'd agreed to come to her room and talk. Cami had almost forgotten with all the excitement of the day.

Bursting through the door, the young girl came spinning towards Cami with outstretched arms. She reached over to grasp Cami's wrists and the two hobbits spun round and round, collapsing in a pile of laughter on the bed.

"We're going. We're really going. Nitir and Azra are back in operation." Rose smiled from ear to ear. Anyone who'd seen the women might have thought they'd been discussing a fancy dress party, rather than what was actually planned. Oblivious to the possibility of failure, they chattered on about what might take place and who they hoped to see.

At the last moment, Rose leaned over and pulled Cami near her. "Are you afraid?" she whispered.

"A little," the older woman replied. "But I'm not going to let Mithadan know, or he might order us back to the ship." They both looked at each other and laughed.

"This has been a long time coming."

"Forever," Cami agreed.

Then they discussed what weapons they'd take and the clothing they would wear.

Rose had still not confided to Cami what she'd decided to do at the end of the voyage, if they ever managed to get that far. Surely, Rose would tell her when she was ready. There was no use asking until then. But a part of Cami intently wished Rose's choice would match her own. Having a close friend along would make things much easier.

The two women nodded their good nights to each other. Cami went out to do two more things. First, she approached Andril with the journal tucked under her arm.

"You keep this. I plan to return and put the final entries in, but if something happens...." Her voice trailed off. "Promise me you'll finish it."

Andril nodded solemnly. "You will tell them about us? she asked.

"I promise." Cami said. "They will know they have cousins who care about them, and who will come to help with the rescue."

"And the choosing? Will you tell them about that" Andril queried.

"Not yet," she replied. "I'll leave that decision to Ancalimon and wiser heads than my own."

Andril laughed and hugged Cami. Then the two women parted. Cami walked down to the armory, where Kali was waiting for her.

"This is what you need," he said. And he flipped over a lancet which was just the right weight and length for hobbit hands. "I think you'll find this easier to handle than the sword. It requires less skill and strength."

For several hours, she and Kali parried back and forth. They practiced throwing and thrusting at a variety of stationery and moving targets.

Cami balanced the lance in the palm of her hand. She actually liked the feel of it. With time, she might become proficient in its use. Time, unfortunately, was in short supply, but she at least felt more comfortable than she'd ever been with any sword.

Kali helped select a lance for Cami to take to the tombs. She planned to hide it along with her bow and Rose's sword in one of the old sarcophagi. They'd promised Mithadan to return quickly to the ship on the night of the rescue. But who knew what obstacles lay between them and their intended destination?

Then she went back to her room and lay down on her bed. As far as she was concerned, the only thing left was to sit and wait, perhaps with a little weapons practice thrown in for luck. Surely it must soon be time for them to leave.

[ October 17, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]