Gage considered. Better not to dissemble, just in case. He let out a loud groan and let his eyes flutter open. When the pain redoubled, he realized he wouldn't have to put up much of an act.

"What happened? That damn walking corpse clipped me with his hammer. Last thing I remember." He levered himself up so his back was supported by a log. A very familiar log. A log much the worse for wear. He'd be happy to see the last of it.

"I'll tell you what happened. A whore came out of nowhere and tried to kill me—which is pretty flecking odd since you told me Sathra was dead!" Kiril moved until she stood a foot from Gage, her eyes narrowed and wild. Xet flew up from her shoulder, chiming a rebuke at her sudden movement.

The thief held up his left hand. "Hold on! You think I lied to you? I thought Sathra was dead—I left her as good as. How could I know someone would pull her out of the sewer and fix her up?" It was as compelling a scenario as he could invent on the spot. He was good at it, but would the enraged elf buy his story? More importantly . . .

"Did you ask her the questions you wanted, Kiril?" Gage asked, anxiety straining his faked credulity. "Did you ask about Nangulis?"

The elf clenched both her fists, neither of which, luckily, was wrapped around her sword. She yelled, "Blood, no!" and slammed a fist down on the log next to Gage. He winced despite himself.

The swordswoman took a deep breath, visibly getting hold of herself. She continued. "No, she came upon me too strong. The only way I could stand against her was to kill her. That, and Angul got the better of me."

"Yeah," agreed Gage, "I know how that goes." He watched her clench her fists and eyes, her mouth a tight line, as she decided to believe his story. He relaxed fractionally.

The fact was, he was having second thoughts about his involvement. How could he have known, when he agreed to steal the blade, that Angul was far more than a simple piece of enchanted steel? How could he have known the sword was Kiril's entire reason for living?

Gage had committed petty larceny, and not-so-petty larceny, from the vaults of the fabulously rich and probably crooked. He had killed, but only those whose hands were stained with years of evil—he'd never knowingly cut the life from an innocent. By his own lights, he was a moral person, one whose skills allowed him to tread the edges of the law, but one whose actions, in the balance, wouldn't endanger his soul's final destination.

He didn't spend all his money on whores and hounds, as did some of his companions, nor did he use his strengths to take advantage of the weak and credulous.

In short, Gage didn't think of himself as a bad guy. Which was an image he found increasingly under siege as he continued supporting the facade he'd created to interact with Kiril...

He shivered and put the unpleasant topic from his mind. He'd deal with the ramifications of his actions soon enough. Not a strategy most people would recommend for success, but one that had served him well enough in the past. Him, but rarely those around him.

"So, what now?" he ventured.

"Now we get you fixed up and continue to Stardeep. We're not far from the Causeway. I'll have my answers soon."

Gage almost told her the truth then. Instead, he nodded and said, "First, let me collect my daggers. Wouldn't want to run low later."

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Aglarond, City of Emmech

The Umber River flowed down from the heart of Thay, splitting the Dragonjaw Mountains between its tall and rugged ranges to the north, and the bare-sloped griffon nesting peaks to the south. The river plunged into the wide Tannath gap, passing the great Aglarondan fortress at Emmech before emptying into the Sea of Fallen Stars.

Emmech was a large, ramshackle town with a military air, its rough stone buildings huddling around a far older castle, Fortress Emmech. The fortress bristled with towers and parapets, and its wide hollows housed a significant portion of Aglarond's Army of the Lion; the last Thayan invasion down the Umber River wasn't so long ago that fear of the Red Wizards had passed, despite recent trade agreements. The fortress's most important structures were the two strong towers on either side of the Umber, which could raise from the river floor an ensorcelled chain to bar the passage of watercraft.

Raidon first saw Fortress Emmech in hazy evening light, as the caravan cleared the last descending limb of the Tannaths, and the river valley opened into the distance. They traveled the so-called "Umber River Road," a pitted, crumbling ribbon of rarely level, often snow-packed ground bordered by unscalable cliffs on one side and a river-filled chasm on the other.

Quent told Raidon that morning that the river was an oft-traveled trade route of late, for those willing to pay the Thayan tax. On the other hand, the adjoining "river road" was too dangerous for regular business. Unless your name was Quent and you wanted to shortcut the competition and avoid said tax, the caravan chief boasted. Even if that meant potentially facing the wrath of Red Wizard patrols.

The monk was certain two lives lost to river raiders was too high a price to pay for avoiding the Thayan river levy, but he held his tongue.

The caravan wound its way down the slope to the river gates, such as they were. The real defense of the town obviously lay behind the towering fortress walls, not here at the periphery, though a few token guards stood to attention when the caravan moved to gain entry. The guards looked over the wagons, then asked for a perfunctory trade fee in return for being allowed inside. Quent paid and asked, "Does Lord Demelin still command the fortress?"

One guard spit and replied, "Sure." Another nodded, but the rest were already moving back to the guard house. Interest in the caravan lapsed once it was determined Quent wasn't sponsored by any concern out of Thay.

Inside, the caravan quickly found the bazaar. This late, traffic was sparse, and many trade carts and temporary shops had already shuttered their wares behind lengths of dark tarpaulin, sail cloth, or wooden planks. Some merchants swept up while others packed away goods. Here and there, wily Emmechers wrangled for day-end deals.

With the help of everyone but the scouts Hark and Sulvan, who took their pay and departed for the dock quarter, the three-wagon caravan was converted into a tidy but temporary shop. Raidon at last saw what Quent bought and sold—pears, persimmons, oranges, grapes, and other fruit. Though such was common in Shou Town and Telflamm, such variety was rarer the farther one traveled from The Golden Way. Especially this far out of season, explained Quent.

Raidon bid the caravan chief and his fellow laborers farewell. The wagon drivers, Ledroc, Corthandu, and Khuldam the dwarf, waved after him. Quent, after paying him, was already busy making a deal with a local shopkeeper. Japhoca scowled and flipped him a rude hand gesture. The monk chose not to take offense.

His contract fulfilled and gold heavy in his pouch, Raidon walked into city twilight. Chandlers, elderly men in soot-stained aprons, lit lamps along the main street that led down to the docks. The Commorand brothers Erik and Adrik caught up to him and walked along, talking about how they hoped to find a new patron in Emmech willing to employ their sorcerous talents. Maybe even one that would take them across the Sea of Fallen Stars, or perhaps deep into the heart of the Yuirwood, where stood stones scribed with arcane glyphs—

"The Yuirwood?" Mention of the forest drew Raidon from his walking reverie. "What do you know of it?"

Adrik grinned conspiratorially and said, "This I read once in a moldy book: 'Strange enchantments and old, strong magic are thick in the Yuirwood's tangles. The ancient elves of Yuireshanyaar were masters of powerful spells, and they left behind menhir circles, standing stone monuments carved in an ancient Elvish dialect. The magic of these circles has faded with the strength of the Yuirwood itself, but some power remains in them yet.' "