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“Geth! Twelve bloody moons, what have you done?”

Geth leaped up like a rabbit, lunging for Singe where the wizard stood in the street and dragging him under cover with a hand over his mouth. Dandra and Natrac were with him-Ashi swept both of them into hiding as well.

Geth eased his hand away from Singe’s face. “What are you doing here?”

Singe’s eyes went from wide to narrow. “We were coming to see what all the commotion was. Did you have something to do with this? What’s going on?”

“Vennet and Dah’mir are in Zarash’ak,” Geth told him with a growl.

Dandra tensed. “What? How?”

“Dah’mir’s in human form-he was with Vennet at the docks. We just got away.” Geth jerked his head toward the bridge. “Vennet’s still in the plaza over there. He might still figure out where we’ve gone. Dah’mir’s herons are hunting for us from the sky. We need to find some place to hide-the sooner the better.”

“Lords of the Host,” cursed Natrac. He stepped back out into the street, looked quickly in the direction of the bridge, then gestured for the others to follow him. “This way. Quickly!”

The half-orc ducked across the street and, brushing aside a hanging curtain, squeezed between two stalls. Geth sent Orshok and Ashi after him, then Dandra and Singe. Dandra’s face was pale with fear, her jaw set with determination. Singe’s hand hovered near his sword. They crossed quickly, heads down, Singe walking to shield Dandra’s red-brown skin and distinctive clothes from anyone who might be watching. Once they had disappeared behind the curtain, Geth stepped cautiously into the street and glanced back at the bridge.

Ashi’s description of the aftermath of their passage as a mess was accurate. People were still milling about on the bridge. A few were down. More people were gathering to see what had happened. Geth felt a twinge of guilt and hoped that his desperate play hadn’t left anyone badly injured.

He couldn’t, however see Vennet or any of his crew, and that was all he could have asked for. He eased himself through the knots of people who had stopped to gossip, then, as soon as he was under the cover of the stalls on the other side of the street, dove through the curtain and after the others.

The stalls had been set up across the mouth of a narrow passage-probably deliberately. One of the stallkeepers was vanishing back into his tiny place of business with clinking coins in his hand. A moment later, the curtain ruffled as crates were shoved across its street side. Anyone passing would be unlikely to guess at the passage beyond.

“How did you know this was here?” Geth asked Natrac.

“It’s a pickpocket’s bolthole,” said the half-orc. “Spend time in Zarash’ak’s markets and you start to recognize them-and to keep a hand on your purse. Pickpockets like to stick close to them.”

Geth’s hand twitched toward his belt, but Natrac shook his head. “Any pickpockets will have gone straight to the crowd on the bridge.”

He led them a little further down the passage. Geth couldn’t have called it an alley-it was just barely big enough to squeeze down sideways. After a short distance, however, it opened up into a tiny, stifling hot courtyard no larger than a small room and with walls rising high enough around them that it felt like being at the bottom of the hole. Laundry had been hung on lines overhead, obscuring any view of-or from-the sky. Two other passages no wider than the first let out from the courtyard in different directions. Natrac lowered himself onto a crude bench someone had knocked together. “We should be safe here for now.”

Singe turned to Geth, Ashi, and Orshok. “What happened?”

Geth related everything they had seen and heard on the docks and since. The story left Dandra looking troubled. “Dah’mir and Vennet?” she asked. “I don’t like the sound of that.”

“Vennet’s a toad,” said Singe, biting at his words. “You should have seen him with Dah’mir after he helped capture us. He was on his knees faster than a Thrane before an altar. After the battle at the mound, maybe Dah’mir thought he needed a new ally.”

“How could he have gotten to Zarash’ak before us?”

“Powerful magic, probably,” Singe answered with a shrug. “We saw him vanish, didn’t we? He’s a dragon. He could have done almost anything.”

“Do you think Vennet knows that?” asked Orshok.

The question left all of them silent for a moment before Geth growled an answer. “Do you think he would care?”

“Vennet’s greedy and power-mad, but I don’t think he’s stupid.” Singe sat down on the bench beside Natrac. “Why do you think they’d be going back up river?”

“They’re going back to the Bonetree mound,” Ashi said grimly. “Dah’mir told Vennet two weeks-the journey to Bonetree territory takes two weeks.”

“Dah’mir could fly there faster in his dragon form, couldn’t he?”

Geth bared his teeth. “I think he’s still injured.” He traced the stain and mended tear that had marked Dah’mir’s robes on his own chest. “It would explain why he didn’t chase us himself-and why he’d be traveling with Vennet. Maybe Vennet is more than just a convenient ally.”

Ashi’s eyes opened wide, flashing in the gloom, and she stretched her hands. “If Dah’mir’s weak, we should attack! We have the element of surprise!”

Singe looked up sharply. “He’s still a dragon, Ashi! We’re guessing that he may not be able to fly, but that doesn’t make him helpless. He’s dominating Vennet’s entire crew and he still has magic.” The wizard’s lips pressed together into a thin line. “I’d want to know more about just how weak he was before I took him on.”

Dandra paced back and forth across the courtyard, her fine-featured face troubled. After a moment, she said, “Dah’mir will have guessed that we’re all here together. I don’t think we can stay in Zarash’ak.”

“You think he would delay his journey up river to hunt for us?” asked Orshok.

“What’s waiting for him at the Bonetree mound? Nothing.” Dandra turned, stopping her pacing for a moment. “If he leaves Zarash’ak, he risks losing us.”

Geth squeezed his fists together, but nodded. “I wouldn’t walk away from us,” he said. “So where do we go? Have you found out anything about the Spires of the Forge?”

Dandra, Singe, and Natrac exchanged a glance, then Dandra shook her head. “House Tharashk told us nothing. We’ve tried a bounty hunter and two dragonshard prospectors. None of them have heard of the Spires of the Forge-the bounty hunter claimed they didn’t exist.”

“They exist,” said Ashi firmly.

“That doesn’t do us any good if we can’t find them,” said Singe. He tapped his fingertips together. “There’s still Natrac’s historian, but I don’t think going out to dinner is such a great idea. Natrac, if we can make it back to your house unseen, do you think your historian could come to us?”

Natrac’s face tightened. “Going back to my house might not be a good idea. Vennet knows where I live. I invited him to dinner once.”

Geth growled. “You what?”

“We were on good terms at the time,” the half-orc snapped. “I didn’t know he was going to end up cutting off my hand!”

“He doesn’t know you’re still with us,” Ashi pointed out.

“No, but if Dah’mir has told him that a half-orc with one hand fought with Geth and Singe at the Bonetree mound, he’ll probably put it together.”

“Does Vennet know your historian?” Dandra asked.

They all looked at her. She spread her hands. “If Vennet doesn’t know your historian, we’d be safe there.”

Natrac looked doubtful. “I don’t want to expose her to danger.”

Her. A woman. It was the first time the half-orc had given away any information at all about his historian. In another situation, Geth might have teased him or tried to drag out more, but this was no time for jokes. “If we can get there without being spotted, she won’t be in any danger,” he said. “Besides, we need her information, don’t we? The sooner we get it, the sooner we can get out of Zarash’ak.”