I shot up from my bedroll.

"What was that?!"

"What was what?" Castille asked from across the camp.

The sky had turned from pitch black to dark blue.

How much time had passed?

The rest of the party was awake and dressed. They sat huddled around a blanket laid out with field rations.

"Why didn't you wake me up?"

Isla's head popped up with a strip of jerky hanging loosely between her lips.

"Castille filled us in on what happened last night. We wanted you to get a little more rest."

I looked away from Isla and cupped the side of my face.

That touch… It was familiar.

Cynthia?

I heard her voice the morning of our raid on Nostrand's Undertown. Now I was feeling her fingers on my face.

I'm losing my mind.

Who wouldn't in our shoes? Behind us was a disgruntled Dahlgeshi mage and his criminal cartel. In front of us, Rugar and his army of mercenaries were laying a trap.

I rubbed my eyes.

When this was all over, I would rent the best room in the Gentleman's Rest and stay in bed for a week.

"Jacob, come. You should eat," Castille said. "We have a day of hard riding ahead. If we're lucky, we'll make Southsun by evening."

"If only we were lucky."

I stood up and stretched my back. I slept wrong, with my cane digging into my hip. I walked to the group and knelt over the spread of food. I grabbed a piece of hardtack and almost broke a tooth on the tough cracker.

"When did you buy these?!"

Castille pressed her lips into a thin line, glancing at Dugan.

"A few years ago," Dugan said, with an apologetic grumble.

"They can last decades if you store them right," Castille said.

I jerked a thumb at Thor.

"Then maybe he needs better saddlebags."

The pack animal ignored me. He was too busy scarfing down the rations on his side of the blanket.

"Let's go over the plan," Castille said.

"I thought you filled them in."

"That was before Isla woke up."

Noblewoman's face lit up. I tried not to scowl at her.

"When we get to the village, we shouldn't run, we should fight."

"An ambush?"

Her eyes flicked to me, something hard and dangerous beneath their surface.

"We can't ride into danger with an enemy at our backs. We have to crush the Lagos cartel at Southsun so they stop following us."

She grimaced.

"I'm done with Steeltowners."

I looked away from her intense glare.

Assuming Lira wasn't lying, we would have a couple hours head start on the cartel—more, if they were bringing the wagon we left behind. That could give us enough time to prepare a trap and spring it during nightfall. Van Lagos was strong, but with Isla back and fully rested, I had no doubt she was stronger. There was still Lira to worry about, but hopefully, Thor could sniff her out.

I nodded.

"This could work. Let's hear your plan."

# # #

The tainted ones were talking again, Thor thought. He glanced at Isla and Jacob while shovelling down the field rations laid out in front of him. Isla chattered like a songbird, but she was a good sort—the runt of the litter, like he used to be.

Beside him, Dugan gave Thor an approving nod. He didn't need it, but Thor appreciated it anyway. Dugan knew the burden that he carried better than anyone. As he chewed on the rock-hard biscuits, Thor's mind dug up old memories, when a less hairy Dugan found him bleeding out in the brush. Thor didn't blame his mother for leaving him. He was the runt, the one too weak to protect. So, when Dugan stumbled upon him, Thor expected to die. Instead, he was changed.

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It was Dugan's first time using the strange magic that made tree branches writhe like snakes. So, when he put his hands to Thor's wound to heal him, Dugan put too much of himself into it. Ever since then, Thor began to think two-legged thoughts and understand two-legged words. He became stronger and was able to endure more than he thought possible. He could also smell the taint: the unnatural substance from beyond the stars.

Thor wrinkled his nose. Everything had the taint: the land, the sky, even animals like him. With people, it was worse. The beastkin smelled a bit stronger than animals. The stone men a bit more. But humans smelled like cat urine, and elves like cat urine left to dry in the sun. All those paled in comparison to mages. Mages were the absolute worst. They carried the taint like Thor carried the gold in his saddlebags. It was enough to make his eyes water if he got too close. Dugan was different. Dugan he was used to. But the new additions to their group had to be the worst-smelling mages he had ever met. Jacob smelled worse than Isla. It had to be his ears. The pointed ends were like the peaks of mountains, gathering taint instead of snow.

It didn't matter. They were his group, and Thor would do what he did best: endure. He shifted on his haunches, feeling the weight of the gold stuffed in his saddlebags. He didn't understand why they needed so much. Gold was nice to look at, but you couldn't eat it.

He let out an annoyed huff and glanced at Dugan, making out the sickly pallor in his sunbaked skin. The weight of the gold was too much for Thor to carry on his own. Dugan was helping him through their shared bond. Each time Thor's bones snapped and his tendons tore, Dugan's healing was there to make him whole.

How long could the man keep it up?

Thor frowned and focused on eating. He wasn't a runt anymore. He was strong. And the stronger he became, the less of a burden he would be.

A new smell made his nose wrinkle, and he fought back the urge to gag.

The smell of another mage.

# # #

Lira sprinted through the woods, her boots stomping silently on the ground, her veil of invisibility wrapped around her. After making a show of riding away, she had double-backed and tracked Jacob to his camp. Her ploy had worked too well. She arrived late, missing the conversation she planned to overhear. Jacob was asleep, and the tall woman Van liked was staring at the new sword on her lap.

Northerners…

Experience told her not to linger. Lira knew there would be another chance in the morning to see whether or not they accepted her deal. She fell back to the horse she left at the top of the valley and slept in the wilderness like it was the old days.

Lira exhaled a silent breath.

The old days were the last thing she wanted to think about. Instead, she enjoyed the freedom of running through the forest without her sworn swords judging her every move. This was the life following Van had given her, a life free of expectation and duty.

How could she ever go back?

As she ran, Lira's mind wandered back to the plan she told Van Lagos. She proposed a simple operation. She would track down Jacob and kill his party members in the night. At dawn, the cartel would sweep over the valley, retrieve the gold and capture the elf. Van wanted to deal with him personally.

Lira scowled.

What made Jacob so special?

First, the Special Inquisitor and now, Van. No one ever gave her a second glance.

She smirked, shaking her head at the irony. Her long braid was tied in a bun to prevent it from swaying. Her voice, like every other sound, was muted by the sphere of silence around her. She could make it as large as her will would allow—in this case, just out of arm's reach.

As she moved closer to the camp, Lira slowed to a walk. She hadn't lied to Jacob. It would be best for everyone if he and his party got away. Van would be furious, but in the end, he would understand.

Ever since he smuggled himself to Luskaine, Lira looked out for his best interests. It was her idea to recruit criminals from Nox into the first Lagos gang. It was her idea to lead them into the Dellends and take over the mining trade. He needed her as much as she wanted him.

Lira frowned.

Everything was going so well until that elf showed up. He ruined the careful balance of power she achieved in Steeltown and got paid to do it! Gold was the least he could offer her. Yet, there was no sign of it in his camp. Lira recalled a legend of an elf storing an armoury's worth of weapons in a magical bag. She always thought that was a fairy tale, but there appeared to be some truth in the fiction.

Lira sighed.

They needed that gold. If the Special Inquisitor was not appeased, the cartel would dissolve, and that money would be their future. With it, she and Van could flee to some backwater village and bribe the local lords to look the other way. When Van's anger over his brother turned to grief, Lira would be there to console him… personally.

She paused mid-step.

Humanoid shapes huddled in the small forest clearing ahead.

Finally…

She shrank her sphere of silence below her ears to listen.

Excited speech echoed between the knotted trees.

Was that the blonde? She was more talkative in private.

Lira raised her crossbow and stalked forward.

They were crouched on the ground, eating while their horses slept, tied to a tree.

In the dying starlight, Jacob was easy to make out in his tacky, red and gold jacket.

Why was he surprised when she spotted him last night? A blind man could see him in that coat.

Lira shook her head.

The elf was as troublesome as he was incompetent. Beside him was another kind of trouble. Castille sat straight as a sword, alert despite her long watch last night. She was tough for a soft-bellied Northerner, and her... forwardness told Lira that she was from the Northwest. The ways of the elves had rubbed off on the humans living in that area.

Lira aimed her crossbow at her and inspected the other mages as she circled to the right side of the camp. They wouldn't expect an attack from deeper in the woods.

The party had two mages on the opposite side of their pet boar. Their informants in Town told Lira that the blonde was a powerful water mage. She was most likely a noble from a major house. And then there was Dugan. The quiet man who had saved Van's life. It would be a shame to kill him. She trained her crossbow on the short man and left it there.

If they refused her deal, Lira would execute the original plan. Dugan would be the first to die, followed by the blonde girl. You always killed the mages first. Jacob was also a threat, but his fiery abilities were a weakness in this forested area. He could hurt his friends just as easily as his enemies. The tall woman and the boar she ignored.

Lira stalked closer, making out the blonde girl's words.

So, they were planning an ambush?

Lira smirked.

If they wanted an ambush, they would get one.

She put the butt of the crossbow against her shoulder and moved into shooting range.

The boar's head jerked up and sniffed the air.

Could he smell her? Impossible.

She was downwind. There was no way the boar could-

The hairy pig let out a low-pitched squeal.

Dugan turned to look in Lira's direction.

Her breath caught. Panic ran through her.

She pulled the trigger and shot a crossbow bolt at Dugan's head.

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