'An outrage!' His hands gripped the back of a chair and they dripped with flame. The half-circles that formed the seat glowed red. 'How dare you? I ought to…'
'Have peace, demon-spawn,' Twilight said. 'Just answer the question.'
The warlock sneered at her and twisted his lip. He shoved aside the curious chair-all curves, no angles, like all this Netherese city. 'I have suffered your humiliations long enough. You and your sniveling little rat-'
'That sniveling little rat can hear the truth in your words,' said Twilight. 'So if you just answer the question, we'll know of your innocence and you can be on your way, back to pray to your devil-god with a hand in-'
Slip blushed a fiery red and stared at her, horror-struck, so Twilight stopped. 'Just answer,' she repeated. 'Are you a spy, or otherwise in league with our enemy, watching our movements so as to catch us in our weakness, or lay ambushes in our path?'
Davoren glared at her, and his eyes promised death. 'Nay, I am no spy.'
'He speaks true,' Slip said behind Twilight.
Davoren sniffed. 'Satisfied? I do not need trickery to slay you, filliken.'
'Not there, however,' the halfling said with a shrug.
The warlock gaped at her and his lips curled into a snarl. 'How dare-?'
'Ah,' Twilight said. Betrayal's dusky point tapped at Davoren's groin. 'Careful. You had better not say something you might regret.' She winked at him. 'Now. Pass through yon portal.' She waved at a rear door with Betrayal. 'And wait outside.'
' 'Wait outside'? That's meant to be safe?' he asked. 'Or do you wish merely to kill me with those foul insect-men?'
'That's why I called you first. You are, after all, the most powerful.'
The warlock hesitated for a moment before grumbling an agreement. He spat at the shadowdancer's feet, then stomped off, cursing to himself in Infernal.
Slip grinned at Twilight. 'I was halfway hoping he would be the one,' the halfling said. 'I would've liked to see that fight.'
'Yes,' Twilight agreed, and from Slip's expression, she knew it was not a lie.
Gargan was next, pacing in with his arms crossed, and Twilight shifted uneasily. The goliath wore the great black sword on his back-a weapon he could wield in one hand-but he could easily powder Twilight's skull and shatter Slip's delicate bones with just those fists. She did not grip Betrayal's hilt, but her fingers were not far from it.
'I come,' the goliath said in the Common tongue. He looked to Twilight and spoke in his own gruff language, which she understood by virtue of Taslin's earring. 'Why have you brought me?'
'I have questions,' she replied in Common, the only way to be understood.
'I have answers.'
'Let us see if they fit.'
There was a breath's pause as he contemplated what that might mean. Then he nodded. 'Blades in scabbards,' the goliath agreed in Common.
That would have to do. 'Are you Gargan Kaugathal, called the Dispossessed?'
'So I am called.' Slip frowned at his words-she didn't understand them.
Twilight tensed. 'In the trade tongue,' she said. 'Are you our enemy?'
The goliath did not seem surprised. 'No,' he said.
A quick glance at Slip told her it was true. 'Are you a spy, or otherwise in league with our foe?' Gargan shook his head, but Twilight cut him short. 'You must speak it.'
He did, and Slip nodded.
'You may go.' Twilight pointed. 'And take my thanks.'
The goliath nodded once, then walked away to join Davoren in the alley behind the smithy. The shadowdancer blew out a long sigh.
'One left,' the halfling said.
'Yes,' Twilight said, shivering. 'One left.'
Twilight held her breath as Liet came in. She had been dreading this, but she knew it had to be done. Of course she knew Liet was innocent, but she had to ask. It had to look convincing.
The youth gave her that familiar smile, as much to reassure Twilight as himself.
'A private audience.' He eyed both Slip and Twilight. 'Can I be of aid, lovelies?'
His comfortable manner-increasingly suave, she noted, and fancied she had something to do with that-put her at ease, but Twilight hesitated to show it. Her investment was likely common knowledge by now-their kiss had made that obvious-but it would not do to show favoritism.
'Just questions,' she finally said.
'Pity,' Liet said. He sat down, none too comfortable on the strange chair. It had nearly cooled since Davoren had heated the metal, for which Twilight was glad. A seat made answering thinly concealed accusations much easier.
'Are you Liet Sagrin, son of Harrowdale, and sometime swordsman?'
'And are you Fox-at-Twilight, daughter of mystery, and sometime thief?'
'This is no game,' Twilight said. 'You must answer my questions. Billfora has cast a spell that detects lies, and so she must hear your truths-and falsehoods.'
Liet's eyes widened and his mouth trembled, pained. 'You doubt m-' he paused, then finished the question another way. 'You doubt your own ears?'
'Let us simply say,' Twilight replied, 'that I need a second opinion.'
Liet's shoulders slumped. He was defeated. 'Very well. Ask.'
'Are you a loyal member of our band?' She raised a hand to cut off his objection. 'Loyal to our well-being, and to the success of our venture.'
'As best I'm able.' She frowned. 'Aye. I serve.'
'But serve who, Liet?' She took a step toward him.
'But surely I serve you, Twilight,' said Liet, rising toward her, 'if I'm loyal to our well-being and the success of this venture of ours.'
'Unless you think me mad or wrong.' She stepped up to him.
'Unless that.' He faltered for a heartbeat. 'Though I don't think either.'
They stared at each other, eyes not a pace apart. Theirs was a battle of will, rather than of words or swords. The world fell silent around them and they existed alone.
'Ahem?'
Twilight tore her eyes from Liet and looked at Slip. The halfling fidgeted.
'I…' Twilight trailed off. Asking the question should have been a simple matter, and yet it was not.
'Ask, Twilight,' Liet said, and her eyes snapped back to him. He caught up her hand, and she could feel the warmth pass into her like a spark of power. The youth brought her fingers up to his lips. His next words were a whisper. 'I'm not afraid.'
Twilight could not say the same.
'Very well,' she said. 'Are you, Liet Sagrin, a spy?'
'Nay.' He was telling the truth, as Slip confirmed with a nod. Twilight looked back, locking Liet's mismatched eyes-one blue, one green-with her own stare. She wondered what color her eyes seemed. They changed like her face-like herself.
'Are you in league with our enemy?'
'Davoren? Nay.'
'The force that is attempting to slay us,' Twilight said. 'That Mad Sharn, perhaps, or whatever dark lord is responsible for the deaths of our friends-the murderers of Asson and Taslin… whoever our enemy is. Are you a
