"Um. They didn't teach us that one."
"They never do. It's assumed you won't need it."
For a minute the only sounds were the faint commotion still coming from the direction of the inn and the even fainter hum of the lar sweeping its protective circle at their backs. Protection; and the word brought a sour taste to Ravagin's mouth. He'd promised to protect Danae—had told her explicitly that he would find the spy and kill him. She'd believed him... and had wound up having to take the brunt of the attack anyway.
And the brunt of the guilt for the way things had turned out. I should have let Hart stay with her while I played decoy, he thought bitterly. He's the one trained for this sort of thing, not me. I wish to hell I'd thought to suggest it to him...
"I think he was spirit-possessed," Danae broke into his thoughts.
"He—? Oh. Why do you think that?"
"There was the same sort of hissing when he was walking down the hall that I heard when the djinn was flying around. Unless the djinn was with him?"
Ravagin shook his head, the knot in his stomach tightening another half turn. So that was why...
"No, there weren't any spirits in sight, at least not when I could see him." He hesitated; but the knowledge might make her conscience rest a little easier. "But that might explain why he just stood there and let himself be burned to death instead of rolling away from the firebrat."
"You mean the demon had his brain so fogged he couldn't think even that well?"
"No. I mean that the spirit held him there. Deliberately."
He felt her stiffen beside him. "You can't be serious. Why would it do something like that?"
"To get away. If the spirit had just left him, the situation would have been as if it'd been freshly invoked, and it would have been stuck around here for anything up to several hours."
"And could have continued the attack on us."
"Unless it'd finally tumbled to the fact that we were invisible to it. In that case, it would do better to get back to the spirit world as quickly as possible and blow the whistle on us."
A shudder went through Danae's body. "Oh, God," she whispered. "If you kill an animal that has a spirit bound to it... the spirit's released. Are you saying—? Oh, God, that's horrible."
He nodded and held her a little more tightly. "They want us, Danae. They want us so badly they're willing to sacrifice major parts of their own conquest machine to get us."
"But why? What is it we know that's got them so frightened?"
"I don't know," Ravagin sighed. "The only thing that makes sense is that idea you had that they've found a way to get past the Tunnel and are trying to invade Shamsheer."
"But there isn't any way for them to do that. We already decided that, remember?"
"Yes, well, it's starting to look more and more like we were wrong. But we can discuss that later. For now, our more immediate problem is to stay alive."
Danae took a deep breath. "Agreed. So what do we do next? How soon will Melentha know about our invisibility?"
"Depends on how communication works in the fourth world, I guess," he shrugged. "If the spirit who just left here can pass the message on to any of the other spirits, then as soon as Melentha invokes one of them the word'll be out. If she has to invoke this particular spirit—which would require that she knows what its name is—we could be sipping drinks on Threshold before she catches on."
"I don't think I'd bet on that last one."
"Me neither." Ravagin took a moment to study the sky. Another four or five hours until dawn; well within a hard ride from the Besak way house. "I wish we had a real choice, but I'm afraid we don't.
The spirits can't get to us without someone around to invoke them, but once Melentha knows where we are she can probably get her agents here before the inn's lar is released. Ergo, we need to leave before that."
A sound that was half laugh and half bark escaped Danae's lips. "I almost tried that on my own, earlier tonight. Deja vu strikes again. I'm game for it—Karyx at night can't be any worse than what Melentha will be throwing at us. You know any ways to get past a lar?"
"Depends on whether it has to detect us to stop us. In this case, though, there's an easier way. If we can risk using it." Ravagin bit at his lip, thinking. "Yeah, the benefits outweigh the risks. How are your eyes doing?"
"About the same as before. I don't... I don't know if I can stand another day out in the sunlight, Ravagin."
He pursed his lips. "Well, if we can cover enough distance before dawn, I think I can find a way to keep you under cover for most of tomorrow. Stay here; I'll be right back."
She nodded—too weary, he thought, to even be afraid of further attacks. Disengaging his arm from around her, he got to his feet and headed over to the inn.
The innkeeper was still outside the door, talking in low tones to two of the guests. All three looked at Ravagin as he approached, the innkeeper with a wary sort of anger in his expression. He opened his mouth, presumably to demand an explanation—
"Innkeeper," Ravagin nodded shortly. "Am I to assume it is common practice in these parts for the master of an inn to permit one of his guests to attack another?"
The innkeeper's eyes bulged, whatever he was about to say dying halfway out. But he recovered fast.
"If there is any death-blame to be had, sir, it seems to me that you are the one who still lives—"
"The man burned to death on his own firebrat," Ravagin interrupted harshly, "while he was attempting to murder my companion. Your door had no lock and no bar—"
"With the lar about the grounds—"
"The lar failed to keep him out, did it not? And furthermore, you had no provision for the danger of fire—without the nixie which I invoked your entire inn might have burned to the ground."
The innkeeper clamped his jaw closed. "If you expect gratitude, you are sorely mistaken," he bit out.
"Whatever your quarrel with the dead man, you brought it upon yourselves. I have no doubt the magistrates of Findral will find it so when your grievance is laid before them."
Deliberately, Ravagin looked in turn at each of the two men listening to the debate. After a moment both seemed to take the hint and drifted off back into the inn. "Now, then," Ravagin said when he and the innkeeper were alone. "Between honest and fair-minded men there is surely no need to bring in magistrates."
The other snorted; but it was abundantly clear from his face that he wasn't nearly as certain of his case's merits as he'd claimed to be. "If you expect to extort unfair compensation from a poor man, the results will disappoint you."
"I seek no such extortion," Ravagin assured him. "Nor do I threaten you," he added as the other's eyes slipped momentarily to the short sword at Ravagin's waist. "I seek only your cooperation in what is already due me."
That elicited another snort. "What is due you, save lodging for the night?"
"And breakfast in the morning. I have already paid you for that, if you recall."
The other blinked in surprise. "Then what is this all about?" he demanded. "Breakfast will be served at sunup."
"Ah—and that is what this is all about. I would like my breakfast right now, packaged for travel."
"For—? And where do you propose to go traveling at this hour? The stable?"
"I propose to go out," Ravagin told him calmly. "For this you will need to release your lar."
The innkeeper had a lot of other things on his mind, but even so that one seemed to hit him right across the face. "You want what?" he all but shouted before he could catch himself and lower his voice. "I cannot do that!" he hissed. "My guests—the safety of my inn—"