"We may be able to uncover a few more tidbits about Stiletto here," Jewel suggested. She turned to Cormik. "Shall we do a little scouting, love?"

The big crime lord frowned. "Why are you being so nice to me all of a sudden?"

"What's the matter with a little niceness now and then?" Jewel replied a bit too sweetly.

"Nothing," Cormik grumbled, "except when it's used to draw attention away from the dagger one's holding behind one's back."

"Really, Cormik," she scolded him. "Have I ever given you cause to be so suspicious of me?"

"Frankly, yes."

"Oh, very well!" she said, throwing up her arms in exasperation. "I'll promise to dispense with all semblance of niceness, you mistrustful old walrus. Will that make you happy?"

He grinned at her. "Very happy."

The two tied their horses to a hitching post and quickly disappeared into the throng. Mari, Morhion, and Kellen hitched their horses as well.

"I am going to see if there is an herbalist in the market," Morhion said. "I require some ingredients for my spells. Kellen, would you like to accompany me?"

"Yes," the boy replied earnestly.

"I'll go see if I can buy some supplies for the road," Mari told them. "Let's meet back here in an hour." She whispered into her mount's ear. "Farenth, keep an eye on the other horses, will you?" The chestnut gelding nickered softly, and by that she knew he understood.

Mari watched as Morhion and Kellen wended their way through the market. It was clear from the way he gazed up at the taller man that Kellen worshiped the mage. Why should he not? Morhion was intelligent, powerful, and of noble bearing. Mari supposed she worshiped him a bit herself. Not for the first time, she thought how grateful she was that he had accompanied her on this journey. She could not have done all this without him.

True, the mage could be distant at times, even cold. Yet Mari considered him a close friend, ever since the night he had told her of the terrible pact he had forged to save Caledan's life—a secret he had never shared with anyone else. Mari realized that she and Morhion had something else in common now, for she had made her own sacrifice for Caledan by becoming a renegade Harper.

Oddly buoyed by this thought, Mari set off to complete her tasks. She returned to the horses an hour later to find Morhion and Kellen waiting for her. They helped her pack the foodstuffs she had bought—in small quantities at outrageous prices—into their saddlebags. Just as they finished, Jewel and Cormik reappeared. The two seemed both excited and agitated.

"What is it?" Mari asked. "Did you find out something about Stiletto?"

"As a matter of fact, we did," Cormik replied, glancing around nervously.

"More than we expected," Jewel added. "Er, we may want to get going and talk about this elsewhere."

"Why?" Morhion asked darkly. "What is wrong?"

"Nothing, really," Cormik replied, fidgeting with his numerous rings. "It's just that we finally learned where Stiletto's base of operations is located, and—"

"Where?" Mari interrupted him excitedly.

Before Cormik could answer, the crowd suddenly parted around them. Out of nowhere, a dozen figures materialized, each clad in black and bearing a brightly polished saber. With astonishing swiftness, the men in black encircled the companions. Mari swore. They were surrounded.

"Let me guess," she whispered harshly. "Stiletto's hideout is here in Soubar?"

"However did you guess?" Cormik replied as the thieves closed in.

Fourteen

"Look on the bright side," Cormik offered with forced cheer. "At least we finally found this Stiletto character."

"Actually, Cormik," Jewel countered acerbically, "I think he found us first."

Cormik rolled his eyes in annoyance.

"Well, if you're going to get technical about it, Jewel…" Morhion ignored the two fractious crime lords as he paced around the octagonal chamber in which they were imprisoned. Earlier, the thieves had led the companions at sword point through Soubar's muddy streets. Folk had scurried out of their path with averted eyes, which suggested that Stiletto's thugs were well known—and well feared—in the settlement. The thieves had stopped before a rude tent. Inside, under a pile of refuse, was a trapdoor. The companions were forced down a spiral staircase and pushed through dim passages. At last they came to a chamber, and the thieves had sealed them inside.

The air in the chamber was chill. The room lay deep in the ground, where frost never loosened its cold grip on the soil, even in the warm months of summer. Walls, floor, and ceiling were all lined with seamless black marble flecked with crimson and gold. The door through which they had entered had vanished. Morhion ran a hand across one wall. The stone was so slick it felt almost oily, though it left no residue on his fingers.

"Can't you cast some spell to get us out of here; Morhion?" Mari asked, her face drawn.

"I am afraid not. The walls have been infused with a powerful ward against magic." Morhion frowned thoughtfully.

"This stone seems familiar to me, but I can't remember where I've seen it before."

"Beneath Iriaebor, in the crypt of the Shadowking."

Morhion turned to gaze sharply at Kellen. The boy ran a small hand over a dark column that looked as if it had been poured rather than carved. "There was stone just like this in the tomb below the city. I remember."

Kellen was right. That was where Morhion had noticed the strangely slick marble before. It explained the aura of magical resistance that emanated from the stone. The crypt of the Shadowking had been permeated by just such an aura. But why was the same stone in this chamber?

The mage drew in a sharp breath. "Stiletto has been using the Shadowstar."

The others stared at him. Before they could reply, a sharp sound shattered the silence. Cracks appeared in one wall, outlining the hidden door. The portal flew open. A dozen thieves slipped into the chamber, as dark and seemingly fluid as the strange marble, positioning themselves around the perimeter of the room. A figure clad from head to toe in a robe of flowing black silk stepped through the doorway. His shadow, cast by wavering torchlight, loomed larger than life on the wall behind him.

Morhion whispered the word. "Stiletto."

"I see inntroductions will not be necessary," the one called Stiletto said, his raspy voice muffled by the dark cowl that concealed his face. "For I certainly know the great mage Morhion Gen'dahar." The dark cowl regarded each of the others in turn. "And here with him is Mari Al'maren, lately of the Harpers—but no longer I hear. And Kellen Caldorien, son of renowned Harper Caledan Caldorien. And Cormik One-Eye, proprietor of the Prince and Pauper in Iriaebor. And of course Jewel Talondim, the enchanting matriarch of the illustrious Talondim clan." Morhion had not expected Stiletto to know them. It seemed the underworld lord was omniscient as well as all-powerful.

"Why have you journeyed here seeking me?" Stiletto demanded.

The mage allowed himself a grim smile. "You know so much about us, Stiletto. Surely you know that as well?"

"Perhaps I already do, and merely wish to see if you will lie to me," the dark-robed man snapped, but his words came too hastily, suggesting that in truth he did not know their purpose.

"Wait a minute," Mari said suspiciously, her eyes narrowing as she studied Stiletto. "I can see how an underworld lord might know his rivals, like Cormik One-Eye and Jewel Talondim. And I can even see how he might keep track of Harper agents and those who work with them, which would explain why you know me and Morhion." She took a step forward. "But it doesn't make any sense that you would know the identity of an eleven-vear-old boy."

At those words, Morhion forgot the armed thieves surrounding them. Mari was right. Curiosity burned in his brain as he advanced on Stiletto. "Who are you?" he demanded in a low voice.