“I understand. I killed Goldmoon. And that changed everything.”
“It was the dragon. I know that. But it’s hard...”
“I killed Goldmoon,” he repeated. “And I almost killed Jasper, Rig, and you.”
“Dhamon, why did you join with us again?”
He was silent for a moment. “I want revenge,” he whispered. “And I can’t get it alone. Every night, all I see is the shock on Goldmoon’s face, the blood on my hands. I want the red dragon to pay. And I’ll do whatever I can to ensure that happens. Maybe it’s the only way I can redeem myself. Maybe it’s the only way I can have peace—if I deserve peace.” He took her hand, and peered through the darkness to study her face. She dropped her gaze to the street without reply. He released her hand.
“Peace.” Rig softly spat the word from in front of them. “You deserve a lot less than peace.” The journey to the harbor continued in uncomfortable silence.
Out in the bay the lights on the prows of all the knights’ ships reflected on the water like giant fireflies. A light fog was stealing in to wrap around the harbor. The trio stood silent for several minutes, watching and waiting.
“There’s a dozen ships out there,” Rig muttered finally. “We ought to be able to figure out how to steal one.”
“Seven,” Feril softly corrected. “There are seven ships.”
“Seven, a dozen, a hundred, a thousand. What difference does it make? There’re none close enough to the docks where we could reach them without a long swim.”
“Then we’ll just have to go for a long swim.” It was Fiona’s voice.
She and Usha ducked under some willow leaves. Between them they held a dark-clad man, a wad of cloth stuffed in his mouth.
“He was following you,” Fiona said, as she pinned the man against the tree trunk. “He was watching us in the tavern. I think he was listening to our conversation, too. At first I thought he was just curious, that he didn’t have anything better to do than ogle a tableful of strangers. But then I got this twitchy feeling.”
Rig stepped closer, tugged a dagger from his belt and held it up to the man’s throat. With his other hand, the mariner loosened the gag.
“You scream, you die.” It was dark under the willow, but just enough light spilled down from the moon and out of a nearby inn, so that the mariner could tell the man wasn’t frightened. There wasn’t a single drop of sweat on his brow, no telltale quiver of his lip. Rig pressed the dagger deep, drawing a thin line of blood. “Why were you following us?”
The man didn’t answer. Rig moved his face in closer, inches from the stranger’s. The man’s face was smooth, his hair short, his clothes well-made. He smelled like musk. Not a laborer. A fancy man, the mariner decided, but one who still didn’t flinch.
“Nothing’s going to make him talk,” Usha said. “We’ve already tried.”
“Well, maybe a little pain will set his tongue to wagging,” the mariner growled.
“There’s another way.” The willow leaves parted again and Jasper joined them. Blister was at his side, tugging a leather sack. Groller stood behind the pair, a sack in each hand and the wolf at his feet.
“Then demonstrate.” The mariner shoved the stranger to the ground.
The dwarf moved closer, bringing his stubby fingers near the man’s chest and closing his eyes. “I learned this from Goldmoon,” he whispered. “I just didn’t have any cause to use it before.” The dwarf had no trouble finding his inner strength this time. He’d had no trouble since his fall in the cave and his vision of Goldmoon. He nurtured the spark inside of him, feeling it quickly grow and bend to his urging.
A tingling sensation rushed from his chest and down his arms, centering on his fingers, which touched the man’s expensive dark shirt. The dwarf opened his eyes. They were wide and shining now, locking onto the man’s. The man’s stern expression relaxed noticeably and his eyes fixed on the dwarf’s.
“What’s Jasper doing?” Rig asked.
“Magic,” Feril whispered. “Of a sort I didn’t know he could cast. He’s more than a healer. He’s a mystic, like Goldmoon was.”
“Friend,” Jasper said warmly.
“Friend,” the stranger replied.
“You were following us.”
The man nodded, his eyes never leaving the dwarf’s. “Yes, following you.”
“Why?”
“Had to be certain you were the ones. Orders.”
“What orders? Who’s orders?”
“The knight-commander’s orders.”
“From the Legion of Steel?”
The man shook his head.
“You’re a Knight of Takhisis?”
“No.” The man shook his head again, keeping his eyes focused on the dwarf’s. “Not a military man. Doesn’t pay well enough. I spy for the Dark Knights. For that, they pay me well, friend. There’s plenty of steel in my pocket.”
“He’s worse than a Knight of Takhisis,” Rig mumbled.
“The knight-commander ordered you to watch us?” Surprise was in Jasper’s voice. “Us?”
“I was to watch for you. I and a few others—and the knights in the harbor. We’ve been waiting for a while. Knew you were coming to Ak-Khurman. It was just a matter of time. Had to be careful. The Legion of Steel knew there were Dark Knight spies in town. They were questioning townsfolk, trying to find us.”
“You were watching for us?” the dwarf repeated.
“A Kagonesti with an oakleaf on her face, a black man with a cutlass,” the stranger continued. “You, a short-bearded dwarf. A female Solamnic knight. A big half-ogre with a red wolf. And Dhamon Grimwulf. Spotted him a week ago, but didn’t recognize him then, too far away. Not with black hair.”
The man paused, then added, “Malys. The red overlord wants you stopped and killed. She wants Dhamon Grimwulf captured and tortured.”
“Wonderful,” the dwarf said. “A very pleasant way to earn some steel.”
“But I wasn’t paid to kill you, just to report when and where I’d seen you, where the Dark Knights could find you. I wouldn’t want to hurt you, friend. Not by my own hand, anyway.”
“So the knights blockaded the city because of us?” Jasper asked.
The man nodded. “More ships down the coast left an hour or so ago, in case you accidentally wandered into an ogre village to the south.”
“All these Ak-Khurman ships sunk,” Feril murmured. “Because of us.”
“The red spawn in the mountains were probably sent for us, too,” Fiona said. “And because that didn’t work...”
“Why?” Jasper pressed, a hint of anger creeping into his voice. “Why are the Knights of Takhisis so keen on stopping us?”
“The Red knows you mean to prevent Takhisis from returning. Wants you dead.”
“Now how could she know that? And how could she know we were coming here?” The question was Usha’s.
Behind the dwarf, Rig shot a glare at Dhamon. Yes, how could she know that? the mariner mouthed.
The stranger shrugged. “I don’t know how dragons know these things. I was just paid good steel to watch for you. I was on my way to tell the knight-commander I spotted you in the tavern.”
“And just how were you going to tell him?” Rig asked. He knelt next to the dwarf.
“A boat,” the man answered. He gestured in the direction of a massive lilac bush growing along the shore. “A boat hidden under that bush. I was going to take the boat to the knight-commander’s ship.”
“So I guess we’re not going to have to swim after all,” Fiona said.
“Good thing,” Jasper said. “I can’t swim. I’d sink like a stone.”
Rig bent next to the spy, twisting the dagger in his hand so he was carefully holding the blade in his fingers. Then he rapped the pommel against the stranger’s head. The man crumpled, unconscious, at the base of the willow.