The Untheric Army, the Northern Wizards, several temples, and many rich merchants had all put generous bounties on the head of Furifax. Even his followers had bounties on them, so it quite surprised Kehrsyn to discover that they were operating in the heart of Messemprar.

"What's the matter, missy?" asked Tharrad. "I didn't brand your tongue, did I?"

"I'm sorry, I'm… just a little dazzled to finally be here," said Kehrsyn. "You asked something?"

"Are you eager to join?" he asked.

He stepped off the last stair and opened one of the doors on the first level. He ushered Kehrsyn into what looked like a cross between a trader's office and a general's war room.

"Absolutely," said Kehrsyn. "Something has to be done about this whole situation, and no one else seems to be able to get anything accomplished," she added, hoping Tharrad would read into her vagueness whatever he wanted to hear.

"Quite true," he answered.

Tharrad gestured her to a chair beside a table. She undid her rapier's scabbard, leaned it against the wall, and took a seat. He sat opposite her, leaned back, and crossed his feet on the table.

"Life as a rebel and an outlaw isn't nearly so romantic as the balladeers would have us believe," he said. "It's tough, it's dangerous, and it's full of ugly but necessary actions. Why should we allow you to join?"

"I think I've proven that I have skills, and I'd rather align myself with someone I can follow. And, frankly, if I were going to turn you all in, I would already have done so," embellished Kehrsyn. "I could have gotten mintweight to lead a regiment of soldiers to your doorstep. Instead, I'll add my head to the bounty rolls."

"I can't argue with that logic," said Tharrad. "You'll understand, however, if we refrain from telling you anything of our organization beyond our little group here until you've spent some more time proving your worth and we've gotten to know you better. Our own exposure is no worse off with you present, but infiltration is a grave danger these days and I can't risk the rest of the organization."

"That's fine," said Kehrsyn. "It's just good to know I'm part of something larger. Speaking of infiltration, I understand we have an agent planted inside Wing's Reach?" she asked, deliberately including herself in the pronoun.

"That Ruzzara," Tharrad snorted, shaking his head. "No, we don't, but we have an ally who has a spy planted. More exactly, we have an informant in that group who has given us evidence that we can no longer trust our ally, not really a big surprise, so we've made our own move. We got the map from said informant, in exchange for certain considerations."

"Well, be sure to thank whoever it is for that map of the building; it was really useful."

Tharrad nodded as he unrolled a map of Messemprar.

"Forgive me," he said, "I'm still trying to transfer all of the credit for the heist from Ruzzara to you. Tell you what, tonight I'll pour some brandy and you can tell me how you did it.

"In the meantime, you've given us a good tool, once we figure out exactly how to use it. You'll be doing a lot more of that, because it's far better for us to steal something than it is to kill its owner and take it from them. Makes the targets wonder if they have a turncoat. We can also use you to plant evidence or leave threats that'll make people knuckle under, but we still have quite a puzzle to solve before we can take control of Messemprar and the rest of Unther. The challenge lies in figuring out who can be bought, who can be browbeaten, and who must be fought. Unfortunately, with the pharaoh's army roving just across the river, we find ourselves having to rely on people and factions whom we would not trust, were the times less perilous."

"Believe me," said Kehrsyn, "I understand."

Heavy fist knocked at the door, interrupting Kehrsyn's discussion with Tharrad, much to her dismay. She had found out much more of Messemprar's history and chaotic political situation than she had expected.

"Come in," said Tharrad.

The dwarf archer stuck his head in the door and said, "Someone to see you. The Tiamatans, by the look of them."

Tharrad glanced at the messenger's fingers drumming on the door. "And?" he asked.

"Well, there's kind of a lot of them, and she's not with them."

"Tell them I'll be right up," Tharrad said with a frown.

The archer left, and Tharrad rose and crossed to a small end table.

"Who's not with them?" Kehrsyn asked.

"Tiglath, their high priestess."

"Oh, I know her," said Kehrsyn.

Tharrad's eyes narrowed as he turned back to look at Kehrsyn.

"Do you?" he asked.

Kehrsyn wasn't sure why her acquaintance with Tiglath was cause for concern, though their coincidental appearance half a watch after her arrival might trigger some suspicion. She pinched herself to quell an onrush of nervousness and continued chatting casually, embellishing on the truth.

"Yeah, I ran into her and her thugs on the streets," she said, using choice words to distance herself from them. "I fair angered them, but she managed to keep her rabble in check."

Tharrad laughed as he said, "It's good to see that she still does."

He pulled two long, thin daggers from the end table's drawer and slid them into the leather wrappings that bound his forearms, then pulled a small vial from a padded case and concealed it in the palm of his left hand.

"You look like you're expecting trouble," observed Kehrsyn, by way of broaching a potentially sensitive subject. "I thought you said the Tiamatans were our allies."

"For a long time they have been," he said, grimacing, "and I hope they still are, but as we've drawn closer to power in Unther, they've gotten more… testy. More demanding. Furifax and Tiglath always kept things smooth, but since the war began, our relations have become more… strained. All the changes, everyone moving into Messemprar… the treasure's all in one chest now, and everyone knows it."

"And everyone wants to be the one with the key."

Tharrad winked at her and said, "Let's see what they want, shall we?"

Kehrsyn followed Tharrad up the central staircase but hung back as he approached the Tiamatan delegation arrayed in their distinctive red robes. Concerned that she might be seen and recognized, for she had no idea what complications that might bring, Kehrsyn loitered in the background, keeping her face concealed by shadows and obstructions.

She saw that the Tiamatan speaking for their delegation was the same bulbous-nosed, high-browed, arrogant cleric whom she'd begged for help when Demok and his thugs had first caught her.

She tried to eavesdrop on the conversation, but, as Tharrad faced away from her, his words were swallowed by the muffled roar of the crowds outside. Many of the Tiamatan's words were inaudible, as well. Their body language, however, told Kehrsyn that the meeting was not congenial: clenched fists, narrowed eyes, mouths drawn into snarls, accusing fingers thrust forward like swords.

The Tiamatan raised his voice, cutting through the ambient noise as he said, "How dare you undertake that theft without us! And including the Red Wizards is unthinkable. You have no idea the damage you've caused!"

Kehrsyn, her heart beating rapidly, ducked through a doorway and out of sight. How had the Tiamatans known? How had they found her? And, since they surely knew, would Furifax's gang turn on her?

The Tiamatan yelled, "Give us the staff! Now!"

Kehrsyn twitched toward the dagger in her boot just as one of Furifax's rebels stumbled backward through the doorway, an arrow sticking from his chest. Kehrsyn saw him pull it out. The shaft trailed the oily glint of poison, and the arrowhead remained in the wound.