Lidia leaned back against the porch railing, contemplating the hooded man's offer for a moment. A strange proposition from a strange messenger, but it was at the moment the group's best bet for getting anywhere. "All right," she finally said. "What kind of help do you have in mind?"
"What you ask leads to dangerous places," he replied, lowering his baritone voice to nearly a whisper. "I know a thing or two of woodcraft, and I've lived in this area for some time. If you push far enough into the woods to the northeast, you run into a spot that the light can't touch. I tried tracing some paths through there some time ago, but the wolves were too many. I barely escaped with my life." He paused for a moment, then said: "I believe something unnatural has taken over the old temple to Amaunator. Some kind of vile magic, no doubt."
"But you can get us there?" she asked.
"I can," he replied, folding his arms. In the deep blue of the late evening, his black vambraces were barely visible. "I assume this 'us' are the other members of your group."
"Of course. They're solid people; you can count on them."
"Yes, they way they barraged that dead man inspires my confidence," he said. There was no hint of humor in his voice or from what little she could see of his face, but something told her he was trying to be funny.
Perhaps he was trying to say something without saying it. She guessed at what that could be. "I understand that you're risking a lot with this conversation," she said. "Still, if we're going to attempt this, we'll both have to find some trust eventually."
There was a long pause from the hooded man; for a moment, he was as still as the shadows of the trees surrounding the lodge. After a sigh, he finally said, "All right. I'll tell you this much: if you knowingly join with me, you will make an enemy of the Cowled Wizards. Consider that, and if you think the hands at your back steady enough, meet me at Merella's cabin tomorrow at highsun with as many of your companions as you wish."
With that, he seemed to fade into the deepening night with the blink of an eye, leaving Lidia alone with her thoughts.
Jaheira lingered in front of a smaller room on the second floor of the Copper Coronet, one that overlooked the taproom from behind a balcony. As she leaned over the railing, she could certainly smell the place from here — the smoke from the tobacco and large brazier in the center of the floor wafted up here, lingering before the grey tendrils faded out of sight.
It'd been a tenday since she'd last been here, and then another tenday since she'd come here first. And much, much longer than that since she'd adventured alone.
She turned her thought from that and focused on the room below. The room was packed to the brim for the first time since the games had been shut down: there was not an empty chair in sight, large numbers of bodies gathered around the brazier with tankards and glasses in hand, and nearly everyone was trying to talk over everyone else in a cacophony of conversation. It was all the Coronet's staff could do to keep up; even Celyce had been put on drink-serving duty.
This was a much more colorful crowd than usual, too; here in Athkatla, Greengrass was celebrated with a street festival in honor of Lliira and Sune, a noisy, hedonistic, raucous affair filled with music, fireworks, food and drink, and dancing. Nearly everyone passing through the door was dressed in their most colorful clothes and adorned with flowers, whether woven into a crown or a necklace or a bracelet. By this time of night, however, Jaheira noted that most of the flowers had wilted, with the wits and the tongues of the fairgoers running wild due to the generous flow of alcohol.
It was all quite disconnected from the proper commemoration of Greengrass as a festival to celebrate the first bloom of spring, in her opinion. She thought back to whether there ever was a time when she might have remotely enjoyed something like this. A sad smile twitched at the corner of her lips. Even though Khalid had disliked noise and chaos, he was always one for people-watching. In fact, any time they had been waiting for a contact like this, he had always been the one to spot them first —
She first heard a low, faint hum behind her. She turned to face it, and in front of her a faint point of golden light opened.
Immediately she moved away from the balcony, going into her room and closing the door, bolting it shut with the worn plank that hung on the door. The speck of golden light followed her inside the bare room, growing as it floated behind her.
Eventually, the speck grew into the vague shape of a human, about a fourth smaller than usual. The image flecked, shifted, and shuddered for a moment, until it settled. It didn't take the shape of the mage who cast the spell, but rather the man who wanted to send the message, conveying him in a golden, ghostly kind of detail, reproducing the shape and outline of his appearance but not the color.
He was short in stature, and dressed in a similar jack of plate to the rank-and-file Shadow Thieves who frequented the bar below. His head was covered with a dark hood, his breastplate adorned with a single sash.
He gestured to himself with a gloved hand. "Renal Bloodscalp. I wished to see the freelancer Yoshimo, but Dermin referred you."
She furrowed her brow and folded her arms.
"Rival guild presses us hard. We are part of the balance."
Jaheira considered her words carefully — this spell only allowed the sender and recipient a message of twenty-five words each. She was not in any position to refuse him, but she had her doubts. It was not like the Harpers to assist a group such as the Shadow Thieves. Still, if half the rumors about this mysterious rival guild were true, then what they were battling was much worse. No doubt this Renal Bloodscalp knew or guessed her objections, or he would not have used half of his word limit to convince her to help.
She faced the small golden simulacrum. "I will meet you after sunset tomorrow night," she said. "I know the place. All I need is password for entry." She stepped forward, almost unthinkingly. "Do not attempt to deceive me."
He seemed to consider this for a moment, then gave the password: "'Rinconete.'"
The image blinked out of sight.