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out of the way, Hetta and her gaggle of women can still be a problem. We need someone on the inside to convey information back to us on what, exactly, they
    are planning, so we can mete out suitable counterstrokes.”
    Grozier began to nod even before the priest was finished. “Yes, I have been thinking about that. I think I know just who will help us.”
    “I thought that might be your answer. Will she cooperate?”
    “Oh, yes. I’ll insist on it.” Grozier answered, smiling for the first time all evening.
    • • •
    Darvin Blackcrown stared down at the lights of the city from his perch atop the vine-covered walls of Academia Vilhonus in the Governor’s District. From such a vantage point atop the bardic college’s main library, he could observe much of the lower city, all the way to the docks, as well as the Generon to the north. In contrast, Darvin’s own hiding spot was deep within the shadows of two eaves of an upper floor of the building. No one would think to look up from the library grounds some forty feet below, but even if one did, one would see nothing but shadows.
    It was Darvin’s favorite retreat, that spot atop the library, and he rested there against the steeply sloped roof, content. He kept his feet braced against a crumbling chimney and reclined against the tiles—still warm from the sun despite the nighttime hour—just staring down at the city. No one could bother him there.
    Are you alone? came a voice in Darvin’s head.
    So much for not being bothered, the man thought wryly.
    Yes, he replied, glancing over at the Generon for a moment.
    You haven’t visited in several days, the voice said, a hint of irritation present.
    Darvin sighed but tried to keep his own irritation out of his thoughts. I’ve been busy, he responded. Too many people looking for me.
    Do the others suspect anything?
    No, Darvin answered. Talricci still trusts me. He has no idea.
    Good. The voice was silent for a few moments. Are their plans still moving forward?
    As far as I know, Darvin replied. They went to meet with the Pharaboldis tonight, trying to convince the woman to help them.
    Excellent, the voice said, and pleasure radiated through the mental connection. And how are you staying useful to him? How are you making sure he needs to keep you around?
    Darvin nearly laughed out loud. Don’t worry about that, he replied. Keeping the Matrell family off his back is work enough. I’m making myself very useful.
    All right, the voice replied. Stay close, but don’t let him suspect. I need to know if there are any more snags.
    Have I let you down, yet? Darvin asked, feeling a little put out at being tutored like a schoolboy. Don’t worry; Lavant is keeping things right on schedule. And he knows I report it all back to you.
    He’d better. This will all fall down on his head if it doesn’t work.
    Darvin shrugged. If you say so. Is there anything else?
    No. Just don’t be a stranger.
    Darvin smiled. I sort of thought you wanted to keep your involvement with this a secret.
    I do.
    Then trust me to stay away when there’s a chance someone might follow me.
    All right. I’ll check with you again in a few days.
    Fine, Darvin replied, but the mental connection was already gone. Darvin sighed and glanced back over at the Generon again.
    Then the man the rest of the world knew as Junce Roundface settled his head back onto his interlaced fingers and began once more to watch the city below.
    , .
    ..

CHAPTER 2
    10 Mirtul, 1373 DR
    Mulled wine sprayed over Xaphira Matrell as a hurled mug shattered against the wall just behind her, but
    the woman ignored it. Even the slightest distraction would likely earn her a split lip or black eye. The hulking dock worker who had cornered her needed little excuse to take a swing, and from the size of him— he was easily a head taller than she—any punch that connected would definitely leave a mark. As it was, the bald fellow was grinning stupidly, flashing a smile that showed several missing teeth.