Never go hunting dragons
Whatever you may do
For hunter will turn to hunted
And soon they'll be hunting you
Jack spotted the man almost immediately, but it took him several moments to place the face.
He was a big man with hard eyes, stationed on a cross alley opposite diagonally from the brothel, well back in the shadows, and he watched the assassin pass, though he neither spoke nor moved from his place. Likely he thought Jack wouldn't be able to see him, standing motionless in the darkness.
It wasn't the man's presence that alerted Jack, nor even the predatory gleam in his eyes. This was Syrrus B after all, with killers and worse lurking in the shadows on every street. One cutpurse waiting in an alley was hardly enough to alarm Jack, even if he happened to be straight across from the brothel Jack had selected as a hiding place.
But Jack had a memory for faces, and he had seen this man before.
The trouble was that Jack had seen a lot of people before. In a lifetime that spanned millennia, he had seen faces of every variety and shape, and it was his experience that everyone had a twin, whether it was a distant ancestor or a close relative, or a total stranger.
So he passed the man in the alley, already sorting through faces mentally, trying to place him. And he had nearly reached the whorehouse before he realized where he had seen the man before.
Instead of entering the brothel Jack continued past, heading to the end of the street and taking a left, doubling back.
Anders shifted slightly, a tiny itch creeping up the back of his shin. He ignored it and kept his place, well back out of the street. His instructions had been clear. Watch and wait.
If there was one thing Anders was good at, it was waiting. Born and bred on Syrrus B, he had grown up in the warrens on the bad side of the city, where one misstep lead to death. Early on he'd learned the hard way that it was better to run with the local gangs and bullyboys than against them. But he'd always been big for his age, and even when he was young he'd been quick in a fight, and it wasn't long before he found himself working under one of the biggest high-ups in the city.
Anders had never met Trytius face to face, and he didn't want to. On three different occasions he'd met with Trytius's personal illithid underlings and that was close enough for him. He wasn't comfortable around any being that viewed humans as a food source. But whatever Trytius's other faults, the mindflayer paid well, and Anders had always been loyal to gold.
As for the story Naldo had brought to him. well, the man was a weasel. Everyone knew that. But he did know Twilight Jack on sight, and even weasels got lucky sometimes. Anders had been sent to follow up on Naldo's story, to watch and wait. More men would arrive shortly, even a couple of Trytius's mindbenders. But until they did, Anders was only to watch.
And he was well content to do that. Anders had worked guard duty at the safehouse on Pendle St. It had been hit just after Ander finished his shift; he knew the three men who had died in the raid. Word on the street said that Twilight Jack had done the job, that and yanked the girl they had been holding. And if the assassin was that dangerous on his own, how much more dangerous was he when paired with the likes of Barundar and Nym, to say nothing of the Wayfarer?
So far there hadn't been much to see. A couple of drunken dwarves had exited the whorehouse, and a tall elf had gone in, but that was it. Even the passing traffic had been scarce. In the last half hour, aside from the dwarves and the elf, only a mangy dog had wandered by, halting and sniffing in his direction before he threw a rock at it and sent it yelping on its way.
So he sat and waited.
There was a slight scuffing sound behind him, most likely a rat threading its way through the garbage. Anders turned, hoping to give it a kick as it scurried by.
"Looking for someone?" asked Jack.
"Where's the assassin?" asked Barundar as Reanyn entered. The giff was sitting on the divan tersely, arms folded tightly. "Can we go yet?"
"We parted ways," answered Reanyn absently, looking around. "He'll meet me back here." He glanced around. "Where. where did everyone go?" The only other person in the main room was the girl Selithera, who was still shrunken into a quiet little ball on the chair in the far corner.
The giff gave an angry snort and jerked his thumb. "Next room, with that miserable old man you sent Julian back with. And they can have him, as far as I'm concerned."
"Did he learn anything from Windhook's message?"
Barundar gave an angry shrug. "How should I know? I'm not in there, am I?" He shook his head. "No I'm not. Last I saw, the old fool was sketching something like mad. Probably just drunk and delusional, like always."
Reanyn arched an eyebrow at the giff's surly tone, but made no comment. Instead he went to the left and door that Barundar had indicated.
He found the Tianna, Nym, and Cantoule huddled around the table there. Julian was standing nearer the window, an amused smirk on his face. Tianna looked troubled, Nym looked puzzled, and Cantoule was grinning from ear to ear.
"Ah, there you are!" cried Cantoule as he opened the door. "I think I've got it. Give me a few good starcharts to match my figures and I can say for a certainty I've found it."
"Found what?" Reanyn asked carefully.
Cantoule threw his hands up. "Who knows? Not me. But it's way out there, whatever it is."
Nym was nodding. "If he's right, we're talking about something beyond known space."
"A sphere?"
Tianna nodded. "Possibly. Cantoule's configured orbits, rotations. it looks like Windhook left constellations for us to orient by, but nothing that matches any known sphere."
Cantoule was nodding, still smiling broadly. "Oh, it's a sphere all right. Numbers don't lie."
"Sometimes they do," countered Tianna sharply. "If the person who writes them means them to lie. What if this is all some false trail Windhook set up? That's a long way out in the Flow. Beyond known space. We're just trusting that it's one hundred percent - and it describes a Flow river that doesn't exist on any chart I've ever seen. We follow it and we might not come back."
"New spheres are discovered periodically," said Nym. "We know that there's a whole universe of them out there."
"Discovered by exploratory ships, usually," Tianna shot back. "Fully rigged and outfitted for the rigors of extended Flow voyage. Last I checked, the Nightwarder is a seven-ton ship. She wasn't designed to support the number of passengers we've got even on normal voyages. I'm not saying we shouldn't go; I'm just saying we should think it over very carefully before we commit to it."
"Duly noted," said Reanyn.
"And speaking of going," added Julian a moment later, cracking his jaw open in a yawn, "when do we leave? I'm sick of sitting around playing dead."
"Jack should be back soon," answered Reanyn. "We'll have to work out a way to get across the city without exciting suspicion. It'll mean separating, but."
Reanyn whirled back towards the front door of the suite just as it opened to admit the assassin.
Twilight Jack entered quickly, shutting the door behind him. In one hand he held a gauzy bit of rolled up cloth.
Barundar glanced up at him as he entered. "What's wrong?" he asked, seeing the purposeful look on Jack's face.
"Trouble," he said. "We need to make ourselves scarce."
"What kind of trouble?" Reanyn asked coming fully into the room. Tianna was on his heels.
"There was a man across the street, staking us out. Apparently someone sold us to Trytius. He was alone, but there are more on the way."
"How do you know that?" asked Tianna.
Jack gave her a measured look. "It was the last thing he said before he died."
Tianna felt a chill go through her at the indifference of his tone. The assassin could as easily have been talking about the weather as killing a man.
"If Trytius knows we're here," said Reanyn, "he'll try to take us with his own men."
Barundar was already on his feet. "Finally some action," he said, lifting his axe.
"Not quite," said Jack. "We've got fair warning. If we move quick we'll be gone before they get here." He thrust the silky cloth into Tianna's hands. "Put this on."
Startled she unraveled the bundle, revealing a filmy, low-cut dress. "What the hell is this?" she asked. "Some kind of negligee?"
"I took it from one of the prostitutes downstairs. It should serve."
She gave him a disbelieving look. "You've got to be kidding. You expect me to wear this?"
Jack shrugged. "We've got a lot of people to move, and we'll need to cross half the city. If we split into smaller groups it'll be less likely that Blackthorne's men will pick up on us."
"Right," said Nym, reaching for his arquebus, which was propped against the wall near the doorjamb.
"Not like that," corrected Jack, taking the firearm before Nym could reach it. "The arquebus goes with the giff." He crossed the room in two quick strides and handed it to Barundar.
"Me?" asked the giff, startled.
"Him?" echoed Nym.
"I never heard of a giff without a gun," said Jack, "and I never heard of a dracon who carried one. So the giff carries the arquebus."
"That leaves me without a weapon," pointed out Nym.
"Not really, since you'll have the axe."
Barundar looked dubious. "My axe? It's never left my side before."
"Well it's leaving it now. I want everyone to look as unidentifiable as possible, and I don't think anything would stand out more than a famous pair of bounty hunters who use unorthodox weaponry. Hand it over."
Grudgingly Barundar handed his axe to Nym, who took it awkwardly with his unbandaged hand.
"Another thing," said Jack to the dracon. "Get that sling off. And put a coat on to hide those bandages."
"He's injured!" protested Tianna.
"I'm okay," said Nym, slowly and painstakingly easing the sling off. He flexed his arm painfully. "If I'm easy on it, the wound won't bleed through. With a coat, I should be able to carry it off. I'll miss my arquebus, though. You said we should split into smaller groups?"
Jack nodded. "The elf girl with the Wayfarer; Julian, the old man, you and the hostage girl; and the giff goes with me."
Barundar and Nym exchanged a glance. "Nym and me fight better together," said the giff.
"You won't be fighting," countered Jack. "Unless Blackthorne's men recognize you. Which they will if you're paired together."
Reanyn nodded. "Makes sense. You're in no condition for battle anyway, Nym; you can barely lift that axe. Just look menacing and no-one will bother you."
Nym flashed a grim smile, baring his fangs. "Don't worry about me; I'm a professional."
"That's good," said Jack, "because I'm entrusting Selithera to you, and she's our hostage for Timoth's good behavior."
"And how's that going to work, exactly?" the dracon asked. "I mean, do we just hand her over and hope Timoth keeps his word?"
"Actually I'm counting on Timoth not keeping his word," said Jack. "But the girl is still important; I don't want any harm to come to her, at least not yet."
"Then don't hand me over to him," said Selithera, speaking up for the first time. She was still huddled in the corner, and her voice quavered, but she swallowed and continued on, hardly daring to meet anyone's eyes. "He bears me nothing but ill will. I lied when I. when I said that he would pay you for returning me. I am nothing to him."
"Apparently you've underestimated his fatherly concern," said Jack, "because he's willing to pay a fair amount to get you back. If he keeps his end of the bargain I'll keep mine. Now get up from there; we've got limited time."
"But. I mean. couldn't I go with you? Instead of with him?"
Jack shook his head. "This isn't a game, girl. You're with the dracon and the old man. I don't have time to baby-sit you."
"Don't worry, my dear," said Julian. "I'll be with you, never fear."
"No-one's bothered to tell me why I have to dress up like a prostitute," put in Tianna, miffed at being ignored.
But at the same moment Cantoule spoke, overriding her. "'Old man'?" he asked, arching an eyebrow in irritation. "Are you referring to me, then? First, I'm not old. And second, I haven't agreed to go anywhere with you, much less skulk in shadows like some abyss-spawned fugitive."
Jack gave him a flat look. "You still serve Tyr?"
"Of course I serve Tyr!" Cantoule said indignantly.
"And Tyr still needs donations?"
Cantoule gave him a suspicious look. "Well. yes, donations are always welcome."
"Then if you aren't above taking a donation for Tyr, you'll go with the dracon."
Cantoule snorted. "Humph. Don't think your fancy talk and lying goes any way to sway my decision, assassin. Tyr's work can't be bribed; I'll go, but it isn't to help you out any. There's a whole new sphere out there filled with Tyr's wonders, waiting for his light. You couldn't keep me away with a stout stick."
"May I ask exactly where we're going?" interjected Julian mildly. "You and the Wayfarer seem to have some plan worked out between you, but the rest of us are in the dark."
"Different places," said Jack. "You'll be leading Cantoule and the dracon to the broken tower that overlooks the docks. You remember me pointing it out when we arrived?"
Julian nodded hesitantly. "I do, but I'm not certain I can even find the docks from here, much less that tower."
"I'll get us to the docks," said Nym, wincing painfully as Barundar helped him button his coat up. "You just get us to the tower."
"Remember that the entire area is going to be crawling with Blackthorne's men," warned Reanyn. "Don't even think about going near the Nightwarder."
"That's why I paired them together," said Jack. "Of the four, the only one that Blackthorne's men will have a description of is the dracon. Paired with the others, he'll have less chance of being recognized."
Nym nodded, then took up Barundar's axe. "Heavy," he said, hefting it with his good arm. "So, we're off to the broken tower. Where are the rest of you going?"
"Somewhere else," said Jack matter-of-factly. "You just lie low there and wait."
"You aren't going to tell me where you and Reanyn are going?"
Jack shrugged. "It's a simple principle. What you don't know can't hurt me."
Nym considered. "Alright then. We stay to the tower. But remember you're traveling with my partner there. Any harm that comes to him, you'll answer for." His tone was almost friendly, but there was no mistaking the threat in his eyes.
Jack's face was expressionless. He met the dracon's stare, but did not answer.
"Right," said the dracon. "Well, if we're going to go, let's get moving."
"One moment," said Jack. He pulled one of his starwheel pistols from its holster and presented it to the dracon butt first. "In case there's trouble. You can fire with your off hand?"
Nym took the starwheel. "I don't have an off hand."
Hesitantly Tianna emerged from the changing room, self consciously smoothing the front of the flimsy blue dress Jack had given her. It was low cut to begin with, and one of the buttons was missing, so it exposed a lot more of her bosom than she would have liked. The garment was so transparent and thin that it was barely modest in any case, and it felt like it was sliding ever further downwards, exposing more and more of her breasts. She shifted the bodice upward for the fifth time, trying in vain to get it to stay up.
Jack looked her up and down with a critical eye. "It'll do," he said, "though most prostitutes aren't so stiff."
"Well, I'm not a prostitute," she replied icily, "So I wouldn't koow."
"Actually," said Barundar appreciatively, "it's quite convincing. I've seen real whores who showed less skin."
She just glared at him.
Reanyn had been keeping watch at the window. Tianna shot a look at him, daring him to say a word, and wisely he kept his silence, though he was surprised at the effect of a simple change of clothing. It was the first time he had seen her in anything other than her uniform, which she had always worn rigidly. He found himself looking at her throat, which he had never seen fully exposed before. She had alabaster skin, smooth and flawless. Ruefully he reflected that there weren't likely to be many prostitutes on Syrrus B with such perfect skin.
Barundar was oblivious to Tianna's negative reaction to his words. "Well, she's changed, and certainly looks the part," he said, turning to Jack. "Now what?"
"Time to go," said Jack. "Reanyn and the elf girl first; we'll wait five minutes and follow. We'll rejoin outside of Timoth's manor. You know the place?"
Barundar was thoughtful. "No," he admitted. "Should I?"
"Not particularly," said Reanyn. "He was asking me. And I do know the place; we discussed it earlier." He glanced through the slit in the curtains again. "But we're not going to be leaving five minutes apart."
"What do you mean?" asked Tianna.
"Men coming," he announced. "Five. six of them. I see one. no, two mindflayers among them. That'll be Trytius's people. Time to go." He glanced at Jack. "You and Barundar take the back; we'll exit through the front."
Jack jerked a nod. "Let's go," he said, already headed to the back room, Barundar right behind him.
"The front?" asked Tianna, suddenly uncertain. "Won't Trytius's men be coming that way?"
Reanyn nodded, already at the front door. "Don't worry. Stick close and they'll pass us by." He took hold of her hand and led her out into the small hall that ran before their suite.
Quickly they raced to the stairwell that led downwards.
There was a landing on the second floor that opened on a spacious chamber strewn with divans and couches and thick with the cloying sweet smoke of lotus. The room was supported by a random series of marble columns, each painted and worked to appear as if vines and greenery were clinging to its sides. There were only a few other people in the room, most lying prone on couches in a drugged stupor.
Instead of racing by and down to the first floor, Reanyn stopped, surveyed the room, and purposefully led Tianna in. Tianna threw him a questioning glance, but he said nothing, only leading her over to a couch in the near right corner of the room, not immediately visible from the landing.
Of those already in the room the only ones who took notice of their entrance were a pair of prostitutes directly across the room from where they sat. They sat on either side of a fat older man who had his shirt off and was leaning well back, eyes closed. Both ladies were thickly painted with cosmetics and talking softly to the unresponsive obese man. One threw a jealous look at Tianna; the other smiled coyly at Reanyn.
"What exactly are we doing?" asked Tianna under her breath as Reanyn sat.
"Sitting down," said Reanyn.
"I don't think now is the time!"
Reanyn cut a glance back towards the landing. "Now is the perfect time. Shut up and sit down." He gave her a tug and she landed on his lap.
"What the-!" she said angrily as he pulled her into an embrace.
"Quiet," he instructed. "Here they come."
She looked back towards the stairwell. No one was visible, yet she could plainly hear the steps of several men coming up the stairs.
"Don't look," he instructed, turning her head back towards him. "Kiss me."
"What?!" she started to say, but he suddenly pressed his lips to hers.
His lips brushed hers clumsily yet firmly, as if he were uncomfortable with the gesture but committed to seeing it through, and she was so surprised that for the first moment she merely accepted it. Behind, she could hear the sounds of a group of armored men pass the landing.
"They're gone," Reanyn said a moment later, pulling back from her abruptly. He shoved her off his lap and bolted toward the stairs, hauling her behind. "Let's go."
Reanyn paused for an instant on the landing, looking up the way the men had gone. The last man in line, a heavy-set fellow cradling a crossbow, was just ascending the last few steps, his back to them.
Tianna barely had time to take this in before they were moving again, down the stairs opposite and heading for the main room on the first floor.
The stairs opened on a sweeping chamber with a glossy marble floor strewn with rose petals. There were four towering columns spaced around a circular fountain that gurgled and splashed brightly, ivory statuettes of unclothed women playing within. There were massive stone urns scattered through the room, each overflowing with rosebushes in full bloom, each sporting different colors and varieties of flowers. The room was dimly lit by oil lamps, as it always was, so how the flowers were able to grow and bloom was something of a mystery.
This was the common room of the brothel, and Reanyn and Tianna had both seen it before. As always, there were several prostitutes lounging throughout the room, near the fountain or on the low couches that were set against the walls, most bored and waiting for customers. Less obtrusive were the two eunuch guardsmen posted on either side of the room, quietly keeping watch on the room. Each was a grossly fat human, dark-complected and with features so alike they could have been brothers. Each was clothed only in a loincloth and sandals, and each was armed with a gigantic curved khopesh.
But what caught Reanyn's eye immediately was the man posted near the front doors, which were open to the forever night of Syrrus B.
He was a young man, tall and with a nearly handsome face, though his smile was crooked. He held a crossbow crooked in one arm, and had a sword hilt jutting over his shoulder. Two prostitutes, both half elven, had attached themselves to either arm, flirting and laughing, and talking with him in low tones. He paid more attention to them than he did the stairs, but it was obvious he was one of Trytius's men, posted here to guard the entrance.
Reanyn slowed his pace to a casual saunter, and pulled Tianna close, draping one arm over her shoulders. "Keep your face turned away from him," he cautioned under his breath. "He'll be looking for that scar."
Tianna bit back a retort and relaxed against him, laying her head against his shoulder.
Reanyn led her forward, towards the door and the blackened street beyond, careful to keep his eyes off the young guardsman.
The young tough gave him a stare as he approached, then, puffing himself up and smiling again for the two whores, stepped forward. "Watch this," he said to the prostitutes.
Inwardly Reanyn groaned as the young man stepped directly in front of him, blocking his way.
"Hold on a minute, you," he said pointedly. He brandished the crossbow as if it were a shield, holding it up to stop Reanyn but not pointing it at him.
"Yes?" asked Reanyn coldly.
"Where do you think you're going, then?"
Reanyn was quiet for a beat. "I don't feel the need to share."
The young guardsman's smile widened. "Oh, I see. It's a real smart mouth you've got there, elf. Or maybe you just don't know where you're going, is that it? Well, I'll help you out." He lifted the crossbow and pointed over to one of the empty couches across the room. "You're going to take your smart mouth right over there and sit down, until I call you. And you can leave the wench here with me in the meantime; I'm certain she'd prefer the company of a real man."
The two prostitutes behind him giggled.
"You're still in my way," Reanyn observed. "Move."
The guardsman's smile faded a little. "I don't think you understand, elf. You heard of Trytius? The mindflayer that owns half the city? Well, I work for him, and you don't want to cross me. I call up those stairs and a dozen men'll come running down here to turn you into beholder food. So you'd best show me a little respect. No-one goes in or out of here without my say so."
"Then say so, so I can go."
The young man laughed.
"You're pretty uppity, even for an elf. I just might have to teach you a little lesson-" he emphasized the word by poking Reanyn's chest "- in respect. Now, do we understand each other?"
Reanyn made no reply, and a flash of irritation crossed the young man's face. "Look, if you don't take yourself over to that couch right now-" he lifted the crossbow, gesturing pointedly in that direction.
At the same moment Reanyn seized the crossbow, his hand closing over the young man's and tightening on the trigger mechanism.
With a chuck-whirr! the bolt flew, streaking across the room and into one of the stuffed pillows on the couch, making down feathers fly. One of the prostitutes seated nearby gave a high-pitched scream.
"What the-?!" said the guardsman, pulling back instinctively and reaching over his shoulder for the hilt of his sword.
Reanyn moved with him, closing his free hand over the young man's, forcing the sword back down into the sheath and trapping him in that position.
A frightened look crossed the guardsman's face. "I'm warning you-" he blustered, but at that instant Reanyn reversed his hold on the crossbow and shoved it full force back towards the guardsman.
The young man barely had time to register surprise before the weapon's stock struck him full in the face with a resounding crack. His eyes rolled back into his head and he instantly went limp.
Both prostitutes were shrieking and running away as Reanyn almost gently laid the young man down, placing the spent crossbow beside him. At the other end of the room, both eunuch's had started from their positions, swords at the ready.
"Subtle," observed Tianna, surveying the room.
"Time to go," said Reanyn, quickly taking hold of her hand again and breaking into a run.
Jack had chosen the suite in Olaf Jornson's brothel as a hiding place for three reasons: It was in a fairly secluded part of the city, and it was unlikely that anyone hiding there would stand out. It had a view that overlooked the surrounding streets in all directions, giving plenty of warning if anyone came looking. And it had two exits, just in case a quick escape was needed.
The back way out was a balcony that opened above the alley that ran behind the brothel. It was a small thing with an iron railing, and it overlooked a sheer drop of three stories to the street below.
Jack had a rope coiled and ready, lashed to the railing. In one motion he lifted it and cast it over the side, then leaped after it.
He caught hold of it a few feet down, before it was done unspooling, and swung with its motion, steadying his swing by bracing his feet against the wall and pushing back out again, to rappel downwards.
In three quick bursts he was on the street, looking upwards.
"Er. are you certain this will hold me?" asked Barundar from above, leaning over the railing and giving him a dubious look.
"Not really," said Jack. "I didn't have a four hundred pound giff in mind when I set it up. Come or don't; it makes little difference to me."
Barundar grumbled, and took hold of the rope, shifting one leg and then the other over the railing, and clinging to the outside of it. He glanced down at Jack again, then grunted and stepped out into open space, holding onto the rope alone.
"Well at least the railing held me," he muttered to himself. "Now if the rope doesn't break."
The giff wrapped his enormous legs around the rope and began to inch his way down, grunting the whole way. His movements were ungainly and slow.
"We're on a schedule," Jack pointed out, when the giff had made it about half way.
"Don't rush me," said Barundar, "I'm almost there."
Jack waited.
Barundar clambered downwards, until he was only a couple of feet above the ground. He unwrapped his legs and stretched his feet down, feeling for the ground.
"Just let go," said Jack. "You aren't two feet off the ground."
"Don't rush me, I said." Barundar held on for another moment, then let go and landed off balance. He teetered for a moment, then fell backwards onto his bottom. "Void. Well I'm down now, anyway."
The giff looked up the way he'd come. "Giff aren't made for climbing-" he started to say, but at the exact moment he looked up a human he had never seen before leaned over the railing and looked down.
"Here!" shouted the human. "They're here!" He lifted a crossbow and fired down at them. The bolt skittered off the cobblestones a few scant inches from where Barundar lay sprawled, barely missing him.
Jack merely stepped back, so that he was directly below the balcony and out of the line of sight. Barundar scrambled to his feet and also bolted beneath the balcony. Behind, two more crossbow bolts smashed to splinters on the cobbled street.
"We're in trouble," he said to Jack. "When those mindflayers that were with them come out in a few minutes we'll be mind blasted senseless and they'll just come down to collect our bodies."
"They're three stories up," said Jack calmly. "We're out of range of any mind blasts."
"We're still trapped. We move an inch from cover and they'll feather us with crossbow bolts. I saw at least three men up there, all armed with crossbows and they looked like they knew how to use them." The giff grinned, unstrapping Nym's arquebus from where it was slung over his shoulder. "I wish I were better with this thing." He started to step backwards out of cover, aiming upwards with it, but Jack pulled him back.
"Not yet," said Jack. "Give it a minute."
Barundar was nonplussed. "Why? They'll be sending some men downstairs to corner us at the end of the alley, and others will be climbing down that rope to get at us."
Jack nodded. "I know." He withdrew a piece of flint from his pouch, then unsheathed his dagger.
"What are you doing?"
Jack didn't answer.
Suddenly the rope, which was still hanging in front of them, gave a little jerk, swaying slightly.
"Here they come."
Jack waited another few heartbeats, then stepped forward, and quickly drew the steel blade of the dagger over the flint.
A spark flew, connecting with the end of the rope. There was a tremendous whoosh and the rope caught fire. The flames immediately raced upwards.
"How-?" Barundar asked in astonishment.
"I doused it in kerosene earlier," said Jack. "Give me the arquebus."
There were sudden cries of distress from above, and the rope began jerking and swaying furiously.
Jack took the firearm and stepped out from cover, aiming upwards.
Above there were two men on the rope, both climbing furiously, as flames raced up towards them. A third man was helping to haul the topmost climber over the railing, and a fourth man was pointing a crossbow down towards Jack. Behind them both stood a mindflayer, taller by a head than any of the men, its tentacles writhing furiously.
The crossbowman had obviously been waiting for someone to step from cover, and the moment Jack did he fired.
His aim was perfect, but Jack calmly shifted his stance, and the bolt whizzed past, narrowly missing his cheek and splintering on the paving stones behind him. He took aim and fired in return, and at the sharp report of the smokepowder flash, the crossbowman cried out, rocking backwards. The crossbow tumbled from his lifeless fingers, dropping down to shatter on the street.
Jack tossed the arquebus back to Barundar. "Let's go."
The two raced to the end of the alley and out into the street beyond. Behind them the second climber gave a cry as the flaming rope parted beneath his hands, sending him tumbling to the street below. His yell was cut short when he hit the cobblestones, landing with a sickening crunch. He whimpered once, then went silent, the remnants of the burning rope laying coiled about his unmoving body.
"Eck!" said Julian, screwing his face up distastefully and holding the wine bottle up to the light of a streetlamp they were passing to get a better look at the label. "What sort of awful dreck is this? Human-made, no doubt. I'd sooner swill dwarven spirits."
"Drinking is a sin," observed Cantoule. "It enslaves the appetite to the awful cravings of hell, and you would do well to steer clear of it."
Julian shot him a disbelieving look. "This from you? I thought it was your wine."
"It is," said Cantoule. "So if you're not going to drink it, at least don't spill it."
Julian snorted and crossed over to Cantoule's other side, where he was walking with an arm draped around Selithera's shoulders. "I don't see why I have to carry it in the first place. Why don't you take the wine and pose as the drunkard, and hand the girl over to me instead? You'd probably like the stuff anyway, and I know I would prefer the company of the lady."
"Keep your lascivious and lustful behavior away, young man. I know what you have in mind." He shifted Selithera gently over to his other side, bristling with anger. "Just you keep away from her, unless you want to sport a new bruise on your forehead."
"Quiet back there," said Nym, pausing at the end of the alley they were at and looking cautiously around the corner. He shifted the axe he held clumsily, resting it on his shoulder as he peered forward. "Julian, come up and take a look."
There was a pile of garbage and filth just at the end of the alley, and Nym stood right beside it, one foot propped up on a broken crate that lay there. Distastefully Julian skirted the mess, wrinkling his nose at the smell. "What?"
Nym gestured. "The docks," he said, and it was true. The alley let out onto a small cobbled street that was set on a slight rise. It led down towards one of the docks. From this angle it was difficult to see anything of the spelljammers that were tied up except for the tips of several masts that jutted above the roofs of the buildings across the way. "Now, where's this broken tower you spoke of?"
