Rashed approached Edwan's visage, not certain why the ghost was so troubled. One minute, he and Teesha had been going over import accounts, and the next, Edwan appeared, rambling about the hunter's half-elf and a blacksmith.

"Slowly," Rashed ordered. "What is this about?"

"You need to kill that hunter now," Edwan said, with emphasized precision in his voice.

"No." Rashed turned away. Rash actions on top of Ratboy's foolishness would only make them more vulnerable to discovery. "It's too soon. We will wait until she has lost some of her apprehension."

"You're wrong. She visited the death place of the girl Ratboy destroyed. I saw her."

"Why didn't you tell me this earlier?" Rashed asked angrily.

"And today the half-elf, her partner, paid for Brenden's release. They talked together."

Rashed shook his head and turned to Teesha with a questioning expression.

"Brenden is the dead girl's brother, and the blacksmith in this town," Teesha said from the couch.

"What?" Rashed turned back on Edwan as if the agitated spirit had suddenly become the source-rather than messenger-of misfortune. He began pacing again in silence, eyes shifting about without focus as his thoughts worked on themselves.

"She's preparing to hunt, isn't she?" Teesha asked. "Why else would she be searching for a trail, sending the half-breed to befriend the victim's remaining family?"

Yes, why else would she? Rashed asked himself. Moving this quickly after one murder was dangerous, but that damned Ratboy had left them little choice. If she investigated too far and some connection led back to any of them or the warehouse, there would be little time to prepare. Ratboy had been reckless, and there hadn't been enough time to even clean up after him. It was impossible to guess what clues might have been left at the site of the girl's slaughter.

"We'll have to move against her first," he said. 'Teesha, stay here, but prepare us to leave if it comes to the worst. Ratboy will come with me." He raised a hand calmly to her coming objection. "No, I'll do it quietly myself, and no one will find a body. She'll simply disappear. But I need someone to watch the others, the half-elf and the dog."

"Then you should take me. I could do better for you than Ratboy."

"I know you would, but"-he walked over to the couch-"just stay here."

"A noble gesture," Edwan said from the center of the room, "but I agree. Do be careful, Rashed. It's been a long time since you fought anything stronger than an accounting error. Something unfortunate might happen."

Rashed did not respond, but he could feel Edwan's attention upon him like the first glimmer of dawn burning at his skin. He wondered what he had ever done to earn the ghost's venom. It had been Corische who'd falsely accused and beheaded him.

"Yes, you must be cautious," Teesha agreed, either missing or dismissing the ghost's sarcasm.

Rashed nodded and left to get his sword.

Chapter Nine

Several patrons-mainly young sailors-remained talking and drinking at The Sea Lion until well past midnight. Magiere felt some relief when they finally downed the last of their ale and bid her goodnight. She had set no official closing time, preferring to wait until customers left of their own accord. But tonight had been longer than usual, with less than a handful of hours left until dawn. She was tired, and Leesil had been strangely quiet and distant all night. She overheard one of the fisherwives gossiping about how the half-elf had bailed the blacksmith out of jail. It surprised her and made her ashamed for her assumption that he'd been gambling on his own time and needed the money for a debt.

Beth-rae sighed deeply. "I thought those boys would never tire."

Leesil sat at the end of the bar nearest the door, drinking a cup of red wine. "Perhaps we ought to start asking people to leave at a reasonable time," he added.

"You could have gone up to bed," Magiere said flatly. The last of the faro players had departed hours ago, and, with such peaceful late-night patrons as the young sailors, she wasn't sure why he'd lazed about the bar the rest of the night.

He blinked, then frowned, looking hurt. "I always help close up."

Yes, he did, and that wasn't what bothered Magiere. For all her speculation, she couldn't figure out why he'd spent a month's wage bailing out that headstrong blacksmith and that annoyed her. In fact, it annoyed her enough that she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of asking him.

Chap slept contentedly by the fire, curled in a huge silver ball. With half the lamps and candles in the room snuffed out, the hearth threw its dim red light across the room, reflecting off Leesil's yellow-white hair and smooth skin. It suddenly occurred to Magiere that she really had no idea how old her partner was. With mixed blood, he'd likely live longer than a human, but then she had no idea how long full-blooded elves lived.

"Well, let's clean up then and go to bed," she said.

"You go on up, Miss," Caleb said in his perpetually calm voice. "You've been working harder than anyone. We'll get things closed down."

She glanced at Leesil, who nodded and stood up.

"Yes, go on, and I'll lend them a hand," he said. "I've been sitting long enough."

The pink tinge of his eyes and almost indiscernible slur in his voice suggested he'd already had more than a cup or two, but she felt too tired to argue and headed for the stairs. Chap awoke and stretched as Leesil went to break up the fire. Caleb and Beth-rae went into the kitchen. All in all, it was a typical late night at the tavern, at least for as long as Magiere had been there.

Inside the darker night of the alley across from The Sea Lion, Ratboy crouched beside Rashed and watched the last glimmers of light in the windows fade out. Rashed stared down hard at him.

"No feeding at all, and no bodies if possible," Rashed said for the third time. "Do you understand? Just watch the common room and be ready to assist me if needed. I will enter through an upstairs window and break her neck while she's sleeping. If you have to kill, then so be it-but no noise, no disturbance. We take her body out to sea, and she simply becomes another 'disappearance. "

Ratboy's resentment was difficult to hide, as was his discomfort at possibly having to fight the hunter or the dog yet again. At the moment, he couldn't fathom why he hadn't just refused. Even skulking in the night shadows, Rashed looked as resplendent as usual in his dark blue tunic, polished sword gripped in his hand just under the fold of his hooded cloak. His translucent irises seemed to glow softly.

Ratboy liked to pretend that his own shabby, filthy appearance was a conscious choice for hunting. In reality, he knew that no amount of bathing, grooming, or fine clothes would ever bring him close to Rashed's noble appearance. Indeed, if he ever tried, the contrast would be embarrassingly comical, so he hid beneath layers of dirt in an effort to create his own identity. He was never more aware of their unfortunate differences than when the two of them stood so close and alone.

"What about the dog," he demanded, "and the half-elf, for that matter? We don't know where anyone is. I could walk into all three of them having late night tea in the kitchen while you're nosing around upstairs. Then what do I do?"

"Don't allow yourself to be seen for one," Rashed hissed back. "That's your skill, isn't it-blending into shadows?"

Yes, but Ratboy feared the hunter. He remembered the pain of her blade and the panic as he felt his strength dripping away through gaping wounds until he'd gorged himself. But Rashed didn't care about his feelings. All that mattered to him was that Ratboy do as he was told.