"Well, Jack Ravenwild, have you found me my book yet?"

"Possibly," he said. "I have a very good lead, dear Elana, although I confess I am exceedingly curious to discover why you want it."

"It's good to want things that you can't have," she replied. "It keeps your ambition sharp. I see no need to take you into my confidence, Jack, not any deeper than you already are."

"Be that as it may, I still don't know exactly what the Sarkonagael is-"

"But you know where it is?" she asked, interrupting him.

"I'll know for certain tomorrow," Jack said. "If all goes well, I'll have the book in hand by tomorrow evening."

"What do you mean, if all goes well?"

"The book is the property of a person who is likely to object to its removal from his collection."

"Who? Who has it?" Elana leaned forward, her eyes burning with intense interest.

"Why, I can't tell you that," Jack said with a laugh. "I told you on the occasion of our first meeting-I work for half in advance, half upon completion of the work. As of this very moment, you have paid me one hundred gold crowns out of a promised five hundred, plus a very generous bonus arrangement should I recover the book for you. But if I let you know exactly where the book is, why, you might forget the balance of our contract-and the attendant bonus-in your enthusiasm to claim your property, and then where would I be?"

"I don't go back on my word once I give it," Elana said in a hard voice.

"I never said that you would, dear Elana. I merely observe that some of my employers have had difficulty in recalling the exact terms of a bargain once I delivered what they wanted."

Elana studied him for a long moment. "You don't want me to beat you to the book. Very well, I can appreciate that, but I'm going to insist that you tell me something of its whereabouts, so that if something happens to you I won't have spent my money in vain."

"Understandable," Jack conceded. "In that case, I would ask for an additional one hundred and fifty crowns up front to make up the balance of my advance."

The swordswoman's eyes flashed in anger. "Are you attempting to change the terms of our agreement?"

"I never agreed to disclose all information as I discovered it," Jack replied. "You are requesting me to do so now, so I am merely attempting to set a fair value on it. After all, the last thing you said to me on the subject was that you'd pay me the balance when I bring you the book or when I present evidence that convinces you that it cannot be found in Raven's Bluff. I can't show you any evidence of that sort, so I'd better produce the book."

"You agreed, at least tacitly, to a reduced advance in exchange for the bonus on delivery," Elana pointed out.

"True," Jack agreed. He offered a fierce grin. "A partial or complete payment of the bonus would certainly count toward my advance, but I didn't want to bring it up unless you did."

"I see," Elana said. Her anger faded, replaced by some emotion that Jack had a harder time identifying-calculation, perhaps? Suddenly, she rose in her seat and leaned across the table, reaching behind his head with one hand and kissing him hard. His whole body jolted as if he'd been shocked.

Jack recoiled in surprise, but Elana refused to release him, and after a moment he returned her kiss with a building fervor. She teased his tongue with hers, her breath soft and hot on his face. He cupped her face with one hand and boldly extended the other to caress one perfect breast protected by the leather and steel that she wore, and then she pulled away, returning to her seat while Jack strained forward to maintain the moment's contact.

Elana smirked at him and then reached into a deep pocket, pulling out a small purse that jingled when it landed on the table. "The balance of your advance, and a hint of your bonus if you succeed," she said sweetly. "Now, what's your lead?"

"Iphegor the Black," Jack said blankly. He slumped back into his seat, looking up at the ceiling to regain his composure. "A wizard named Iphegor the Black. I believe that he acquired the book from another wizard named Durezil, who may have acquired it from Gerard's belongings when they were sold off after his disappearance."

"Is it reliable?" she asked.

"It's guesswork, but it makes sense," he admitted. "I rarely have the advantage of incontrovertible evidence and confirmed sightings. My gift lies in my intuition for weaving suggestions and suppositions into facts."

"In other words, you're a good guesser," Elana said. She shook her head and started to stand. "Well, I will allow you to play your hunch, Jack. That's what I hired you for, after all. If you're right, bring the book to me three nights from now."

"Here?"

Elana snorted. "Do you have any idea of how many people watch this place? No, I'll leave word for you. Make sure you wrap up the book or cover it somehow."

"My lady," Jack said in a pained voice, "I am not unfamiliar with exchanges such as these."

"I suppose so," Elana said. "Good luck tomorrow. I'll be keeping an eye on your progress." With that, she slipped out of the privacy curtain and disappeared into the crowded tavern floor.

Absently, Jack counted the coins in the purse and picked at his dinner. To tell the truth, he would have told her anything for the kiss alone.

"You have some dishonest purpose in mind," said Tharzon, splashing through the knee-deep water of the sewer tunnel. "I can tell, Jack Ravenwild. In all the time I have known you, you have never approached me without some perfidious scheme at hand."

"Dishonest is a relative term," Jack replied. He struggled to keep up with his dwarven companion. The heavy spring rains now roared through the old mason-work sewers in a loud torrent, threatening to carry him away if he stepped too far to the center of the channel. "I have no doubt that the man I intend to rob came by his treasure in an underhanded fashion."

Tharzon, on the other hand, seemed to have no concern for the rushing waters. Like all of his kind, the dwarf was as solid as an old anvil, with the strength of a hale human constrained in a thick frame four feet in height. He was a professional acquaintance of Jack's, a master tunneler and lockpick who made his living by burrowing in on his prizes with careful deliberation. "So stealing from a thief is an honest act then?" The dwarf barked laughter, a sound like wet gravel sliding down a hill. "Two wrongs make a right!"

"Today I'll choose to believe so," Jack replied.

He frowned in distaste at his surroundings. He'd replaced the fine clothes and noble trappings of the previous few days with what he thought of as his working clothes-black leather over gray cotton, all veiled in a fine dark cloak of light wool. But his flesh crawled as he contemplated what might or might not be scurrying past him in the rainwater. Jack was more fastidious than he cared to let on, and he would never wear these clothes again without imagining a faint whiff of the sewers in the fabric, no matter how many times he cleaned them. "Are we almost there?"

"Almost," Tharzon replied. "So, what's this dwarf-work mystery you wanted to ask me about?"

"Have you ever heard of Cedrizarun?"

"The master distiller of ancient Sarbreen?"

"The very one. I take that as a yes."

"Of course!" Tharzon said. "I've spent a human lifetime exploring old Sarbreen and studying the lore of my fathers. Cedrizarun's name is still revered among my folk."

"Can you think of a reason why a Red Wizard-leader of an adventuring company-might become intensely interested in Cedrizarun's resting place? Specifically, a riddle or an inscription on or around the tomb?"

"Certainly. Your mage seeks the Guilder's Vault."