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groan managed to swing them up flush to the ceiling, then thrust them into the corner where two walls met.
    The wheel ceased spinning and the iron door below Gage slammed open. Sathra stormed out, screeching. She cradled one hand in the other. The cradled hand was red and blistered. It trailed smoke and the odor of burnt flesh. Had she just botched a spell or alchemical mixture?
    The decorative metal spikes in her hair barely cleared the thief’s suspended form. The description Gage paid good coin for was accurate. Sathra’s infamous gluttony was visible in a
    full figure beneath folds of black silk. An overabundance of black metallic jewelry pierced her flesh.
    The description he’d paid for failed to mention the shroud of shadows coiled around Sathra like mist. The darkness trailed in her wake, uttering a susurrus of whispers, “… find out where… lost the light… so hungry… cold…” He held his breath, clamping down on an urge to gasp with fear.
    Gage waited only a moment after the sound of the last whisper faded up the stairs. He dropped, or tried to. As before, the glove wouldn’t release the ceiling. He hung down in front of the door by one arm. He rifled his belt with his free arm, anxiously glancing up the stairs, then into the vault. Lucky she’d forgotten to close the door…
    Damn it, she must know he was here! But why hadn’t she attacked him when she opened the door? Because she burned herself, he answered. She was in obvious pain. Perhaps she had simply forgotten to close the door. Not evetything was a trap.
    Right. That’s possible. The leader of the Shadow Tongue forgot to close the door to the vault containing all her most valuable loot. Sute.
    It was a false hope. You didn’t become the head of a criminal organization as powerful as Sathra’s if you made mistakes when distracted. Which meant she probably went up the stairs seeking underlings to deal with the intruder in her lair. Him.
    With his left hand, he found a niblet of jerky on his belt and held it up next to his gloved hand, still affixed to the ceiling. The mouth unclenched and he dropped, landing easily on his feet. He flipped the jerky into the waiting mouth. It gibbered and noisily chewed its bribe.
    Time to run. He hadn’t adequately investigated the nature of the vault. He should retreat, make a plan. But wasn’t that
    a blue glow ahead? It reminded him of Angul’s signature aura. By the frost giantess’s icy kiss, the sword must be just inside.
    He ran. Into the vault, not up the stairs. Stupid, stupid!
    His pulse pounded and a flutter of reckless joy stuttered his breathing. He was in uncharted territory, and he liked it. Taking uncalculated risks meant he wasn’t dead. He took them willingly—they weren’t pressed on him by any sense of duty or because of a devotion to a higher power. He was his own man.
    He was too close to retreat. He was about to lay hands on Angul. No doubt about it. He’d recognize that unearthly flame anywhere. The blade must be secreted just ahead. He wondered how Kiril, Angul’s legitimate wielder, was reacting to the loss of the sword she complained about so vociferously.

CHAPTER FOUR
    City of Telflamm, Shou Town
    The blueness darkened in the stone, leaching away over several days until it was black as grave dirt. The sky’s glad hue that had silhouetted the symbol of a white tree conveyed hope. Against the black, the white tree seemed defenseless and fragile. Overlapping inscriptions nearly too small to recognize as anything other than texture cramped every other surface of the stone, in a language not spoken for thousands of years. A silver chain clasped the stone, making an amulet of it.
    The amulet was the single forget-me-not given to Raidon Kane by his absent mother. It was Raidon’s most treasured possession. Fearing its theft, he hid it away. And thus he failed to see the ttansfotmation.
    The amulet lay unobserved in a delicate cedar box. The box was carefully packed in a travel