“It was, and I’ll ask you a similar question. What are you doing back here?”
Kursak didn’t hesitate, and his answer sent stark horror roaring through Gharek’s body, along with panic. “Asil tried to return here twice more, so Malachus is going to burn this cesspit down with draga fire.”
“No!” Gharek took a hasty step forward only to halt when the other free trader whose name he didn’t know raised his own crossbow in warning. “He can’t! Not yet. Siora is in there.”
Kursak gaped at him. “You left her in Midrigar?”
“No time to explain,” Gharek said, “but you have to stop Malachus.”
“Why is nothing we do without some problem?” the wagon master groused. He turned to the other free trader. “Run like someone set your arse on fire and tell Malachus to wait and tell him why. We’ll be right behind you.”
The free trader nodded and raced in the direction he and Kursak had come—the opposite end of the city from where the main gates stood.
“We’ve gathered there,” Kursak said. “Farthest from the road. Not all of us. Most are back at the camp, an hour’s brisk walk as the crow flies.” He eyed Estred, still hiding behind Gharek. “What’s wrong with your daughter?”
Gharek hadn’t missed the way the two free traders had staredat Estred’s shoulders. “Not a damn thing,” he snapped, instantly defensive.
Untroubled by the sharp response, Kursak shrugged. He addressed Estred directly. “Girl, is there anything wrong with your legs?” Estred shook her head. “Good. Then you’ll need to stretch them long and keep up because your da and I are going to run to where my people are waiting. Are you ready?”
Gharek glanced down to see a wide smile grace her features. She gave the wagon master an enthusiastic nod.
“Good,” Kursak said. “Let’s go.”
They followed the path the other free trader had taken, through the wood and adjacent to the broken walls surrounding Midrigar until they reached the far side of the city. Estred kept up effortlessly, for which Gharek was both pleased and grateful. Nor was she panting nearly as hard as he and Kursak were by the time they met more free traders halfway to their destination.
Malachus, that imposing nemesis who’d altered the course of Gharek’s life when he confronted him in Domora, didn’t bother with a greeting and got straight to the point. “Why is Siora in Midrigar, Gharek?”
Gharek took a few more deep breaths before spilling out a summary of what had happened since his last encounter with the free traders. During the telling, both Halani and Asil had approached Estred. It was to Asil the little girl went first, drawn by whatever natural enchantment the childlike woman possessed.
“What is Siora planning to do to save the dead?” Malachus demanded, his scowl dark, worried.
Gharek shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t think she knowseither, but you can’t set fire to the city yet. I wanted to go in there and bring her out, over my shoulder if necessary, but I had Estred.”
Halani spoke up. “If you trust us enough, Estred can stay with us while you get Siora out of that horrible place.” The healer’s voice still held a thread of dislike for him, but she’d just tossed aside his greatest obstacle with her simple offer. The trust part fell to him.
They were a small group, numbering no more than eight and made up of an equal number of men and women. Gharek was surprised to see Asil and Halani there considering what Kursak had told him about Asil succumbing to the ghost-eater’s summons. Why Malachus would agree to the heavily pregnant Halani accompanying him anywhere near Midrigar puzzled him even more. Her gravid belly looked even larger since he’d last seen her.
He wondered if Malachus was a mind reader as well as a draga dressed in the trappings of a man when he said, “We brought Asil to tell us if the compulsion that keeps luring her here dies when I destroy the rest of the city.”
“And I won’t leave my mother,” Halani chimed in.
Gharek understood that level of mulish devotion, though he had to put it aside for Estred now if he wanted to enter Midrigar and find Siora. These people had been generous with him so far despite the grim history between them. They were not folk to take revenge on a man through his children.
Estred’s enthusiasm at the idea of spending time with the odd but fascinating Asil put him at ease, and he thanked Halani for the offer of watching over her while he was gone.
“I’ll give you two hours,” Malachus told him as he prepared to leave. “And then I start the burn.”
It was more than enough time. “If we’re not on this side of thewall by then,” Gharek replied, “it won’t matter to either of us if you set it alight.” They’d already be dead by then. Or worse.
He turned back to Halani. “You now have a greater power over me than any other because I place in your care that which has given my life meaning.”
“I’m not interested in power over another,” Halani retorted. “But I’m pleased to help a father, his daughter, and the woman that father so clearly cherishes.” Her solemn face brightened a little. “Estred can entertain Asil while we wait. It will keep them both occupied.”
Estred leaned into him as he held her and stroked her bedraggled braid. “Come back, Papa,” she implored in a soft voice. “These people are nice, but I want to be with you and Siora.”
Gharek kissed her forehead. “I want that too,” he said. “I’ll be back before you realize I’m even gone. Listen to Halani. She’ll take good care of you.”
Asil stopped him before he walked away. She lifted a cord over her head to reveal a charm strung on its length. She’d done the same for Estred at their first departure from the free traders. This bauble was more than the rustic craftwork of foraged herbs and whispered spells. It was a strange combination of expensive silver medallion entwined with scraps and bits of dried weeds and flowers bound with twine. “Take this,” she said. “Halani made me wear it to protect me from Midrigar’s evil.”