Though Jak tried to hide it, Cale saw the haunted look in his friend's eyes. He knew what Jak was feeling- he too had felt the demon's nauseating touch, he too had felt his soul come loose from its moorings and begin to drift. It was terrifying.
Jak blew out a smoke ring and looked him in the face. The little man wore a concerned expression. 'They're evil, Cale. Right? The ghouls, I mean. They used to be men, but now they're just evil.'
To Cale, it sounded as though Jak were trying to convince himself. Cale had not bothered with the niceties of distinguishing good from evil. Yrsillar had hurt his family, had hurt him. As far as he was concerned, anything that got in the way was fair game. Still, he wanted to put his friend's mind at ease. Jak did concern himself with distinguishing good from evil, and he needed to know that whatever they did in that guildhouse was right.
'They're evil,' Cale said with an unequivocal nod. 'And they aren't men anymore. Well be doing them a favor.'
Jak gave a soft nod, then blew out another smoke ring.
'You sure you're capable of this now?' Cale asked. 'I'd understand if-'
'I'm in, Cale,' Jak reassured him. 'I'm in.' He took a deep, thoughtful draw on his pipe. 'But if we're not moving on this until tomorrow, we should involve Brelgin. One day is enough time for him to gather some manpower. We've got some good operators in the organization, Cale. We could-'
Cale raised his hand to cut Jak off. 'The Harpers aren't helping.'
The little man's chatter instantly stopped and his mouth hung open in disbelief. 'What?'
'They're not helping.'
'But it's a demon!' Jak protested.
Cale found it odd to be defending Brelgin but did it nevertheless. 'He knows it's a demon. I told him everything I told you. I think he would help if he could, but the organization can't spare the men or resources.'
They're sparing me!'
Cale smiled. 'I think he knows that you'd come with me no matter what he said.'
'No. This is between Yrsillar and me,' Gale grimly pronounced. 'Ill leave word for Brelgin as to the location of the guildhouse. If we fail, he can do whatever he sees fit.'
Jak nodded slowly. Thoughtful, he pulled from his shirt pocket a platinum, jewel encrusted cloak pin and rubbed it between his fingers. 'It was only chance that I was there that night. In the Soargyl manse, I mean.' He held up the cloak pin for Gale to see-it was in the shape of an eagle's talon, with a single tourmaline inset. Gale's mind appraised it automatically-one hundred fivestars, or thereabouts.
'This is what I went to get,' Jak said. 'But what I took out of there was the memory of what that demon did to the Soargyls. Gods Gale, 111 never forget his face while that thing ate his soul…' He fought off a round of the shudders and looked across the table. His green eyes burned with intensity. 'We do this your way.'
Gale nodded, pleased that the little man understood. He considered telling Jak about Yrsillar's reference to the other, but decided against it. If Mask was working through the two of them, then Gale and Jak would have to deal with it when the situation arose. There was no reason to burden Jak any further.
They sat in silence for a time. Gale picked at the crumbs of his dinner. Jak balanced his chair on its rear two legs, crossed his hands over his head, smoked his pipe, and studied the ceiling.
Abruptly, as though he had reached some sort of decision, the little man leaned forward, let the chair legs thump against the floor, and snuffed his pipe.
'Let's get out of here, Erevis.' Without explanation, Jak rose and threw on his gray cloak.
Surprised, Gale did likewise. 'Where to?'
'I don't care, but I can't stay here anymore.'
Gale asked no questions. He led Jak out of the room, ttf› • Pa.'! 6fTnmn through the residence hall, up the stairs, and back into the lending library. There, they found Brelgin and Priest Librarian Elaena seated at a desk, conversing softly. When they saw Jak, both looked up in surprise.
'Jak, I'm glad to see you up. What are you doing?' said Brelgin.
'Mister Gale,' accused the priest librarian, 'you assured me he would remain bedridden until tomorrow.'
Before Gale could respond, Jak reached inside his cloak and removed something from an inner pocket. He set it down on the table with a smack.
When he removed his small hand, Gale saw the item-a silver pin in the shape of an exquisite harp. The symbol of Jak's membership in the Harpers.
'He's my best Mend, Brelgin. If we can't help him, then we no longer includes me. I'm out.'
Without another word, Jak turned and walked out of the temple, a stunned Gale following and a speechless Brelgin left in their wake.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Neither man said a word when they emerged onto the Avenue of Temples. Worshipers thronged the street. The smell of incense hung thick in the cold air. Simultaneously, the bells of several temples began to sound the noon hour.
Jak turned and looked at Gale, his eyebrows raised in question.
'East,' Cale replied above the din, 'Toward the docks. Good a place as any to spend the rest of the day.'
Jak nodded agreement.
Picking their way through the crowd, they sloshed through Selgaunt's bustling streets and headed eastward for the Wharf District.
Gale smelled the fish market a full block before they reached the bay. By the time they had reached the next intersection, he could hear the dull, inchoate roar of the market in full swing. Now ' midday, the bayside fish stalls teemed with people and overflowed with the winter bounty of the bay-steelfin and cod, mostly. Customers haggled loudly for the day's catch. Fishmongers affected pained expressions and counter-offered. Coins clinked and moved from hand to greedy hand. Selgaunt went about its business.
Ships crowded the piers, the winter-cloaked crews busy about the decks and rigging. Sails snapped in the salty wind. Frost-covered ropes creaked in their pulleys. The shouts of sailors and the bellowed orders of captains filled the air. Though he had lived along the Inner Sea his whole life, Cale had been aboard ship only once, and that had been a harrowing adventure. Cale had fled Westgate aboard Wave Runner, a schooner captained by a one- armed, vulgar pirate named Gros Fallimor. Though he and Gros had become fast friends on that voyage, after debarking in Selgaunt he had never seen the old pirate again.
Thoughtful, Cale's gaze drifted out to sea. The still water of the bay mirrored the gray of the overcast sky. In the distance, working to keep the shipping lanes clear of floes, he could see powerful icebreakers plowing through the water like iron-plated dolphins.
'Let's get a room somewhere. I need a bath and some rest,' said Cale. The filth of the guildhouse still lingered on his clothes, and he suddenly felt the effects of a day and a half without sleep. 'We'll move on the guildhouse an hour or so before dawn.'
Jak looked surprised at that, and nervous. 'You want to move against Yrsillar at night? That soon?'
Cale nodded firmly as they skirted the market and walked along the pier. I'd go after him right now if I didn't think fatigue would make me sloppy. We can't delay any longer than necessary.' He stopped and looked his friend in the face. 'There's no predicting what that bastard will do next. He wants me, but I'm not all he wants. He's going to keep killing unless someone stops him. And if he can continue turning men into ghouls…'
'Hell have an army soon enough,' Jak finished solemnly. 'We go at night, then.'
Cale began again to walk, his mind on revenge. 'Don't be worried, Jak. Darkness is as much our element as it is his.'
To that, Jak said nothing. After a few moments of silence, the little man seemed to reach a decision. He pulled Gale to a stop and looked into his face, embarrassed but determined.
