In that moment, Illyth reached out and snatched his mask from his head. The Tiger illusion vanished; the man whirled in rage, reaching for the sword at his side. He was young and dark complected, with a scalp shaved down almost to stubble and fierce bright eyes.

"Damn you! Give me that!"

Jack seized the light slip of cloth from Illyth's hands and hurled it over Tiger's shoulder. It cleared the railing and fluttered down to the dance floor below. "Careful, Lord Tiger! You seem to have lost your mask."

The man started after the mask and watched it fall. He turned a venomous glare at Jack. "If you think that trick will spare you-" he began.

"Of course it will!" Reaching for Illyth's hand, Jack worked the transport spell and blinked them both across the hall to a dark stairwell across the ballroom. He turned and looked back; Lord Tiger was casting about for them furiously, a glint of steel in his hand. Jack grinned and kissed Illyth on the cheek. "Well done, dear Illyth! Perchance did you recognize him?"

The noblewoman still seemed amazed by the turn of events. "I think so," she said slowly. "A merchant's lieutenant named Toseiyn Dulkrauth, of the Storm Dragon House, I think. You realize that we have made an enemy of him now?"

"Yes," laughed Jack, "but now we know who our enemies are!" He tried to ignore the way Illyth's silence seemed to speak louder than his own bravado.

CHAPTER TEN

Of course, unmasking Toseiyn Dulkrauth didn't really prove anything about the shadow Jack. Even if he was satisfied that Mantis and Tiger were not responsible for the appearance of the shadow, Jack had only eliminated one possibility. Jack gave up and returned his attention to Illyth, the Game, and the discomfited Toseiyn Dulkrauth, watching warily to make sure that Lord Tiger did not find an opportunity to slip up behind him and put a dagger in his back when no one was looking.

As the Green Lord's banquet came to a close, Jack returned Illyth to her manor and warned the servants there to be on guard for someone answering to his own exact description. "And you be careful as well," he told Illyth. "I am not the sort of person checked by a single failure, and it may be that my evil twin is similarly persistent. He may try to carry you off again."

"Don't worry about me," said Illyth. "The house guards are aware of the impostor now. They won't let someone who looks like you get anywhere near me." She laughed. "It wouldn't surprise me if my father had ordered the guards to shoot you on sight or something like that. I'd better check into it."

"Please do," Jack agreed. He climbed back into his coach and signaled the driver. The man flicked the reins with a small sound of encouragement, and the coach rattled away from the manor house. Jack settled in for the long ride, thinking furiously about Dulkrauth's hidden agenda and secret goals. "Some Game," he remarked, considering the situation. "Murder, conspiracy, kidnappings, and all the brightest of Raven's Bluff socialites and sycophants to weigh as suspects."

"Did you say something, sir?" the coachman called from above.

"Do you know where the Cracked Tankard lies?"

"I do, sir, although I advise against it. A person of your station would find the place squalid and coarse, filled with lowborn ruffians plotting robbery, murder, and worse."

"The very place!" Jack smiled, even though the driver could not see him. "Take me there at once!"

The hour was now growing late, and the Tankard was filled with local merchants, laborers, and clerks who preferred to take advantage of the tavern's comforts over those of their own homes. Several huge roasts sizzled invitingly over the fire, and Jack comfortably settled himself in his usual place. Briesa had the night off, but Jack flirted with another of the barmaids and won himself an unusually large helping of beef. He had barely started on his dinner when a large boot came down in the middle of his chest and rocked him back on his chair, pinning him against the wall.

"Hello, Jack," said Zandria. She held a dangerous-looking wand in his face. "I've been looking all over for you."

Now I remember, Jack said to himself. The Cracked Tankard is the place I come to when I want people to find me, interrupt my dinner, and threaten me with violence. "I need to find a new tavern to frequent," he muttered. He looked up at Zandria. The mage looked moderately charred, with black holes eaten in her leather jacket and an extremely close haircut, as if she'd angrily hacked off hair too singed to save. "Dear Zandria, is this uncomfortable approach absolutely necessary?"

"Where are the ring and the dagger, Jack?" the mage replied. "I found the Tomb's riches; I fought a deep dragon to keep them; I lost comrades and friends in doing so. I have no patience whatsoever for your petty larceny. You stole prizes that I worked very hard to acquire, and I want them back."

"You chased off the dragon? Excellent! When and where shall we meet to count out my two-elevenths share of the loot?"

"Your impudence was tiresome the first time you crossed my path, you sniveling little worm," Zandria snapped. "How dare you bring up such a matter, when you abandoned the field and left my company to stand alone against that monster?"

Jack shoved Zandria's boot from his chest and stood up as quickly as the blink of an eye, jamming one finger at her. "How dare you bring up the circumstances under which I departed the fight, when you went out of your way to make sure I would not show up in the first place! We had a deal, Zandria, and you broke it before I did!"

"You insinuated yourself into my company! I didn't ask you to eavesdrop on my conversation with Ontrodes, I didn't ask you to illicitly copy my notes, and I most specifically did not ask for your help!"

"But you accepted my aid when I had something useful for you, by which I refer to the solution to the Guilder's riddle. You would not have found the tomb at all if it hadn't been for my interference, and you sought to reward me by cutting me out of my agreed-on share. So who's the thief here, dear Zandria?"

The mage's eyes burned dangerously. "Choose your words carefully, Jack Ravenwild. You are an instant away from annihilation.''

Jack deliberately turned away from her to straighten his chair and took his seat again. He drank one sip from his mug and wiped his hand across his mouth. "Very well. Sit down, dear Zandria, and we'll examine the situation rationally. Both parties have claims and both have damages, so let us try to find a compromise that suits the situation."

"I have no interest in negotiating with you. Give me what is mine, and count yourself lucky that you walk away in the shape you were born to."

"I have always responded poorly to threats. In this case, I will make an exception. We have the Guilder's hoard; I want my two-elevenths. And, aside from the hoard, we have the Orb of Khundrukar-presumably in your possession-which I also was promised a two-elevenths stake in."

"I made no such promise!"

"Examine our contract, Zandria. The wording runs something to the effect of 'all items and treasures discovered in the Guilder's Tomb and any other regions jointly explored.' The Orb is certainly included in that." Jack fished around in his coat pocket and found a small pipe. He rarely indulged in pipeweed, but this seemed like an appropriate occasion. He tamped leaf into the pipe and lit it with a minor magic. "I would be willing to forfeit my two shares if you will forfeit your claim to the Orb."

"Impossible," Zandria said. "The Orb is not subject to discussion."

"If we remanded this matter to the local courts, I am certain they would uphold my claims on two-elevenths of the treasure, and they would assign me two-elevenths ownership of the Orb." Jack puffed on the pipe a moment.