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arms and legs were coils of power from years of hard work and, if he worked for Kaseem, no doubt years of hard fighting.

      ‘We have a mutual friend. He said to seek you out.’

      ‘Who would that be?’ asked Nefu as his deckhand tried to look as if he wasn’t listening to every word.

      ‘Destan.’

      ‘Can’t say as I recognize that name.’ Nefu’s hand drifted towards his belt, in which Jim had no doubt rested at least one dagger.

      ‘Kaseem,’ said Jim in a lower voice.

      ‘Better come aboard, then.’ Nefu’s hand moved away from his belt.

      Once Jim was aboard, Nefu led him to a companionway in the rear of the boat, one that led down into a mid-deck. Jim had been on luggers like this and knew this was the crew’s quarters, for at least a dozen men if it was a long voyage, fewer if they were hugging the coast and putting in at night. To the rear would be quarters for the captain and one mate, perhaps. There was no galley on a boat this size; all cooking would be done on deck on a brazier, which meant that in foul weather the crew went hungry.

      Jim followed Nefu into his quarters, which were barely more than a bed over pull-out drawers, and a single fold-down table for charts and maps. A single lantern hung from a chain above the desk and a chest nestled in the corner for whatever the captain couldn’t cram into the two drawers below his bunk.

      Sitting in the only seat, a three-legged stool that was just an inch too short for the table, Nefu said, ‘Now, what can I do for you?’

      Jim thought about what he should say, and decided truth was absolutely required, but how much wasn’t clear. At last he said, ‘Kaseem sent me here, with Destan as my guide. We were pursued and he said if he did not return by sunrise I was to make my way here and ask for you.’

      Nefu was silent for a moment, then said, ‘Who pursued you?’

      ‘I do not know,’ Jim answered slowly, looking the old sea captain in the eyes.

      After another moment of silence, the captain said, ‘But you have an idea.’

      ‘Yes,’ said Jim. ‘I may be mad, but I think they were part of a group not seen for years. Nighthawks.’

      The captain let out a long sigh. ‘Where to?’

      ‘I need to get to Sorcerer’s Isle.’

      ‘Impossible. The Quegans are patrolling between their miserable island and Land’s End, and Keshian warships patrol the coast from here to Land’s End. The Kingdom navy is bottled up there, but they send fast raiders out now and again to punish Kesh for her aggression.’

      ‘News?’ asked Jim.

      ‘Little, but rumours bloom like flowers in the desert after rain.’ The captain stood up. ‘If we are to time the run to Sorcerer’s Isle, we must leave now.’

      ‘I thought you said it was impossible.’

      Nefu smiled and suddenly years fell away from him. There was a glint in his eye. ‘I said it was impossible. I didn’t say I couldn’t do it. Wait here.’ He turned and left.

      For the first time in weeks, Jim found himself laughing. If Kaseem hadn’t already taken this smuggler into his service, he’d recruit him for his own Mockers.

      Assuming of course there was still a Guild of Thieves by the time he returned to Krondor.

      Assuming there was even a Krondor to return to.

       Discovery

      CHILD ATTACKED.

      The three demons she ambushed turned and presented an impressive array of fangs and claws, and one began to incant a spell. A magic-user! She modified her attack and ripped his throat out before he could continue his magic and he fell to the rocks, gurgling his cry of pain.

      The other two would have overmatched her, but she now had allies and they came swarming over the rocks behind the two remaining demons and, despite being smaller, overwhelmed them quickly.

      ‘Eat,’ she said to her small band. ‘But that one is mine,’ she added, indicating the magic-user, and beckoned for Belog to join her. She desired magic and without a teacher, eating magic-users was her only means of acquiring that ability. Her skills were rudimentary, primitive even. She could channel a push of energy which might topple a small opponent, or cast a small flame, but that was all.

      For an unknowable period of time she had been leading this band of demons across a rugged landscape, through volcano-strewn broken lands of basalt and red rock. The sky was dark grey at noon and the sun seemed to be in an odd orbit, never quite sinking below the horizon. Belog said that meant they were reaching a nexus, one of the six poles in their realm: the East Pole. The Darkness seemed to have converged on the Heart Nexus, where the East, West, North, South, Top, and Bottom Poles intersected. Energies cascaded unexpectedly along the surfaces of the clouds above them and the air stank of ash and bitter minerals as fiery mountains spewed clouds of dark smoke and cinders up into the canopy of grey and black.

      Child had begun to gather followers over the last month, allowing those she felt unable to contribute to be devoured by the others. She was even generous in her allocation of who ate first, waiting until the end to claim her portion. She was still struggling to define herself, but at some point she had become aware of the concepts of generosity and gratitude. Being generous could engender thanks, or project weakness, depending on the context. Gratitude could generate true allegiance, or feigned loyalty disguising betrayal. She was struggling to find the nuances of these differences.

      She was becoming more subtle, and Belog was becoming more fascinated. It was clear to him that she was unique among the People. She was something unpredictable. It was hard to know whether she was his greatest discovery or his most dangerous.

      She glanced around as they ate. ‘I find this place … unpleasant. I preferred the last place we rested.’

      He tilted his head slightly in a gesture she had come to understand meant he was pondering what she had said and was framing a reply. He scratched at his cheek absently with a sharp, gleaming talon and said, ‘Really? The energy planes are far more dangerous in these volcanic tablelands. The vortex rifts and void windows can destroy with a touch or snatch you out of this reality and transport you to another.’ He made a claws snapping gesture for emphasis.

      She shrugged. ‘I don’t know why, but it pleased me to look at the cascading lights in the night and see the shimmering silver lights during the day. It gave me a similar feeling to when I eat something particularly tasty or look at certain males.’ As she said this, she cast a glance at one of the young male demons who had been spared because he was on his way to becoming a daunting fighter. Muscular arms hung from a massive upper torso, yet his waist was still small and his legs were slender. Were they still living in the city of Das’taas, he would have long since been killed and consumed or recruited as a soldier in one Demon Lord’s faction or another, perhaps even marked to become a City Guardian or palace guard.

      Belog observed Child watch the male and sighed silently. She would choose to mate soon and that could create difficulties. The nature of the People was that procreation was an adjunct to the spawning pits, where life in the realm originated and where demonkind arose. It was from the pits that a demon re-emerged after death, with some or all memories intact depending on the circumstances of death. Violent deaths, which were in the majority, often robbed the demon of some memory. But birth was another aspect of creation, and it was relatively infrequent. Demons had mated for pleasure as long as they had been in existence, but the societies in which they lived were never stable enough for young to be successfully produced in any significant number. Rarely did a pregnant female survive, and when a child was born, it was often devoured, often by its own mother in

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