Dark clouds loomed over Leona when Jarek, Satchel, and Basco reached the city’s southern gates. A pattering of rain fell on them as they walked through the city. They made straight for the Drunken Hammer and asked about Loth’s whereabouts. They were directed to the northeastern district, a hodgepodge collection of wooden shanties and crumbling homes that housed much of Leona’s poor. Its streets were narrow, and the pungent aroma of sewage hung in the air. It reminded Satchel of the Pipes.

  The street goers’ clothes and demeanor matched their dank surroundings. Even though they’d just finished a long trek through the woods and a swamp, Basco, Satchel, and Jarek looked clean by comparison. The trio received suspicious, and sometimes greedy looks from the district’s denizens.

  “We’d best be careful in this place,” warned Basco. “Not the friendliest of people.”

  “Whatever gave you that impression?” Jarek said sarcastically. “Any idea how we’re going to find Loth?”

  Just then, a man crashed through the window of what looked like was a tavern. The building was so dilapidated that Satchel at first thought it was a stable or barn. Another man came running out yelling, “The Arns?than’s gone mad!”

  Basco motioned with his left hand, “We can start there.”

  The trio approached the tavern and peered through the doorway. A large man held up two others, one in each hand.

  He banged their heads together repeatedly as he said, “Don’t cheat Loth. Loth not like lying.”

  He released his grip, and the two men crumpled to the floor. Loth then turned to leave but stopped when he saw Satchel. His face softened, and he smiled.

  “Loth’s little friend. Run into any more people? And mister old man, how you?”

  Jarek replied, “Tired, but alive. We need to talk somewhere, Loth. Privately.” He peered round at the unconscious men on the floor. “That is, if you’re no busy.”

  Loth dropped his smile and nodded. As they exited the building, several guards approached, swords unsheathed. Loth clenched his fists, ready for a fight. Basco stepped forward, outstretched in a welcoming gesture.

  He addressed the guard, “Gentlemen, please let’s not make a scene here. The Arns?than is with me.”

  The leader of the squad recognized Basco, sheathed his weapon, and motioned for the rest of the guards to do the same. After a few words, the leader agreed to let Basco escort Loth home as long as he didn’t cause any more trouble. As Loth led them away from the rundown tavern, rain began to fall in earnest.

  They arrived at a gray stone building in an obscure corner of the district. Loth lived in a room much too small for his size on the bottom floor of what had at one time been a fine apartment house. Once they were all inside, Jarek and Satchel explained to Loth all that had happened.

  When they had finished, Loth said, “And so witch say get Loth help?”

  Jarek nodded.

  Loth frowned and said, “Sorry. Loth can’t help. Magic never good.” He stood and pointed at the door. “Done talking. Please, leave.”

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  Satchel started, “But Loth-”

  “Leave now,” said Loth, almost shouting.

  Satchel stared at him. “I don’t know what we’ll face when we go to Brunland, but I know you can help us. You helped me the other day. Please come with us.”

  Loth shook his head. “Sorry, little friend.”

  Satchel, Basco, and Jarek left Loth’s room. The steady rain kept coming, soaking through their cloaks as they made their way back through town, past the cathedral and up Fusterman’s Avenue toward the Hill. A gloom hung over the town that matched Satchel’s mood. Hadn’t the witch told him Loth would become a great asset? No, a great friend.

  Once they arrived at the manor, they shed their cloaks and handed them to Orvis. As Basco laid his cloak on top of the other two, Orvis asked, “I trust sir has had a successful trip?”

  “Yes and no,” replied Basco, glumly.

  “We need to discuss what to do next,” said Jarek.

  “Agreed, but after we’ve dried off a bit. Let’s reconvene in the study once we’ve all put on fresh clothes.”

  Jarek nodded and then said, “I’ll check on Addie.”

  “I’ll come with you,” said Satchel.

  Jarek put up a hand. “Not this time, lad. There’s no telling how that ring will react with your…gift.” He pointed to Satchel’s armor. “While he acted the fool, Basco was right to be cautious. Best let me go see her alone.”

  “Besides,” said Basco, placing a hand on the boy’s shoulder, “I have plenty more stories to tell if you want them.”

  Frowning, Satchel said, “All right.”

  In his room, the young thief traded his wet clothes for dry ones. He then picked up his armor, studied it for a moment, and then put it back on. Something about it felt natural. He hadn’t even had it for a day, and it already felt as vital to him as a knife or belt. He left the room and headed down for the study. Basco was already seated at the table with several open books laid out before him. They were about to resume their discussion about the Vai’Aneen elves when the door burst open and Jarek ran in.

  “She’s been taken!” he yelled.

  “Taken?!” Satchel jumped up.

  Basco glowered and asked, “How do you know she was taken?”

  “Her door has been ripped from its hinges,” replied Jarek. “I stepped away for a few moments to change clothes and left her with Orvis. When I came back, the door was on the ground.”

  Basco rose. “And Orvis?

  “Unconscious on the ground. Don’t worry, I checked him. He’s alive. Someone hit him on the head from behind but otherwise seemed fine. I put a pillow under his head and left him there.”

  “By the gods.”

  “The strangest thing,” said Jarek, “is that the door was broken from the inside. But I don’t see how anyone could have gotten in.”

  “The girl,” replied Basco darkly.

  “What do you mean?”

  “We’re dealing with magic, Jarek, the kind no one has seen in decades. If something possessed the girl...” He let the sentence trail off.

  Jarek conceded with a nod.

  “Addie wouldn’t do something like that,” said Satchel.

  “Whoever or whatever did this,” said Basco, “could still be here. We need to search the estate. Jarek, check the rest of the upstairs. There should be seven other rooms besides Addie’s. Satchel, kitchen then ballroom. I will take the grounds and armory. Meet back in the main hall when you’re done.”

  He began rummaging through a chest in the far corner of the room. From it, he produced three copper cylinders, each with a thin rod with a ring protruding from one end. “If you run into trouble, use a hydroflash. Hook the ring with a finger, pull the pin out, then hurl the cylinder. Don’t let it go off near you. These things are designed to stun an opponent by breaking their eardrums. It’d be hard for us not to hear them even in a place as big as this.” He strapped a steam pistol and holster to his waist. “Come on then, let’s go.”

  They split up. Satchel raced down the corridor and across the main hall heading for the kitchen. He opened every cupboard and searched the basement pantry, calling her name as he did. Nothing. He then moved to the ballroom. The huge room was empty. Satchel ran down the length of it anyway and checked out each window. Finding nothing, he made for the main hall.

  Satchel waited there for some time when a loud bang came from upstairs. He heard shouting from above and climbed to the top of the staircase. As he reached the top step, he saw a bright flash and heard a man screaming. Suddenly, Jarek’s body flew out from one of the hallways, over the railing into the main hall and plummeted to the hard marble floor.