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Mags?

On my way, the guide answered.

Cale turned around to see Magadon sprinting silently across open air, as though an invisible ramp connected the sterncastle to the crow's nest. In the space of three breaths, the guide was climbing into the nest. Again, no sign of alarm from the sleeping crew below. The two men standing atop the forecastle continued to stare out to sea.

"Mind your footing," Cale said softly. "It's slick."

Magadon looked down at the slain sailor, the pool of blood, and said nothing. He picked his spot in the nest.

He removed his quiver of arrows, set it beside him, and unshouldered his bow.

Jak? Cale projected.

The door on the sterncastle is warded, the little man answered. I'm on the maindeck now, near the hold door. He paused, then said, I can see what's down there.

Cale and Magadon shared a glance.

And? Cale asked.

Jak answered, Cages. Maybe a score or so slaves. All men. He hesitated before saying, We should free them, Cale.

Jak's words did not surprise Cale but he was not certain how to respond. He knew that freeing the slaves would complicate matters, might mean putting down the entire crew. There was one ship's boat rigged to the side. Perhaps they could force most of the crew off the ship and into the boat.

Perhaps.

Cale stared into Magadon's pale eyes. The guide said nothing, merely waited.

Cale? Jak prompted.

All right, Cale said. We'll free them. It will mean a lot of blood, little man.

I know. But now that I've seen them, I can't walk away. We did that in Skullport. Not again. Not here.

Cale nodded. He understood. Jak was not a killer by nature, but for the right reasons the little man could be as savage as any assassin Cale had ever known.

First the slaadi, he said.

First the slaadi, Jak acknowledged.

I'm coming down, Cale said.

"Luck," Magadon whispered, and drew an arrow.

Cale nodded and looked down from the nest. He picked a patch of darkness at the base of the mast and stepped to it.

The moment he felt the deck under his feet he pulled the shadows more closely around him and drew Weaveshear.

Jak? He projected.

An invisible hand closed on his elbow.

Here, the little man said.

Out of habit, Cale turned to look at the little man but of course saw nothing. Cale weaved darkness and shadow around him to make himself invisible too. He and Jak would not be able to see each other, but they could stay in ready contact through the mindlink. Besides, they had worked together so often that they virtually knew the other's thoughts.

While Cale knew that the slaadi could see through invisibility spells, he figured the glamers would at least keep wakeful crewmen from spotting them as they moved across the ship. Cale remembered too that the slaadi made frequent use of invisibility themselves. He decided to take a moment to counter that.

Hold a moment, little man.

Holding his mask, he softly intoned the words to a prayer he had never before used. When he finished the spell, his perception changed. His skin and the hairs on his arms became finely attuned to the slightest differences in the pressure of the air against his body, the subtlest movement of the wind, the nuance of temperature. The spell enabled his mind to process tactile information and convert it into something perceptually akin to vision. Cale could not distinguish colors, but at a distance of fifteen paces he could "see" with his eyes closed better than he could with them open.

Beside him, Jak was visible through his new sense. The little man eyed the forecastle, blades in hand.

The slaadi will be in the forecastle, Cale said to Jak and Magadon. Mags, we are both invisible.

Keep me apprised of where you are, Magadon answered. I don't want an errant shot to hit you accidentally.

Cale sent an acknowledgement and he and Jak silently crept among the sleeping crew toward the forecastle. They updated Magadon as to their location every five or so paces. Cale checked the faces of the sleeping crewmen closely, in case a disguised Riven was among them. He was not. Cale figured Riven to be with the slaadi.

Together, the two made their way invisibly over the deck.

* * * * *

It took Azriim a moment to spy the priest and his halfling companion. He spotted them on the maindeck, near the mast. He watched them creep across the deck toward the forecastle, as silent as specters. Their invisibility spells did not shield them from Azriim's vision, but he had almost missed them-despite their invisibility, they both kept to the shadows, seemingly out of professional habit. Azriim pointed them out for Dolgan. Azriim did not see Riven, and the human had not responded to Azriim's mental call. He decided to try again.

Answer me, assassin, he sent.

Be silent, Riven finally responded. Their mindmage may detect the communication. Maintain the connection and I will contact you when I'm ready.

Azriim had not seen the mindmage. He scanned the ship but still did not see him.

We are on the maindeck behind the forecastle, Azriim said. The priest and the halfling are moving right toward us. Where are you? Where is their mindmage?

The assassin did not respond and Azriim sighed with perturbation.

Cale and the halfling drew closer, checking the crew as they approached.

Beside Azriim, Dolgan grew eager for bloodshed. He shifted from foot to foot and grunted softly.

Silence, Azriim commanded him.

The big slaad bit down on his lip until it bled and asked, What are we going to do?

Azriim could have simply fled Demon Binder for Dolphin's Coffer. That had been his plan, after all. He had put Demon Binder on a course far from Dolphin's Coffer and the vicinity of sunken Sakkors. And he could see to it that Cale and his companions would have difficulty following him after they left the ship.

But that would not have been fun at all. Better to just kill them, he thought.

He grinned at his broodmate and said, Let's shoot a lightning bolt down their gullets and burn the ship out from under them.

Dolgan chuckled and pointed his finger at the halfling. Azriim slapped his hand down.

Not yet. When they get close. I want to see his face when it happens.

* * * * *

A dagger toss from the forecastle, Cale saw the slaadi with his magical sense. They were in human form, standing invisibly under the eave of the forecastle's deck. The captain-Azriim, Cale presumed-held a wand in one hand. The mate-Dolgan, no doubt-shifted from foot to foot, licking his lips.

Cale managed not to give a start, though he wondered how they had learned that he was aboard. An alarm spell of some kind, he supposed.

Thinking quickly, he feigned examination of a crewman sleeping in a deckbag near him.

Little man, look at this. He nodded at the sleeping sailor, a grizzled slaver of no interest whatsoever. The man smacked his lips and turned over in his deckbag.

Jak turned and came to Cale's side. Before he could speak, Cale said,

The slaadi are standing to either side of the forecastle door. They see us. I don't think they know that I can see them.

Jak stiffened, but only just. Cale hoped the slaadi had not noticed. He knew he had only a few moments before the creatures would get suspicious.

Can you make them visible? he asked Jak.

Jak nodded, as if at something Cale was saying about the crewman. Cale gestured at another crewman, as though they were making conversation about something.

Just as you're about to finish the spell, you signal me, Cale said. I will close on them. Mags, you shoot at Dolgan the moment he is visible to you. He's to your right of the forecastle door. I will tell you if he moves.