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city, send him on his way, if you like, but don’t leave him in here to rot.”
    “And if he sounds an alarm?”
    Jaren winced inwardly, realizing he probably shouldn’t have mentioned the emeralds. Even in hushed conversation, he could have been overheard by an aspiring informant, looking to improve his living conditions. Especially if this Salvatori were that informant. If nothing else, the slip had no doubt added fuel to Reit’s opposition.
    Jaren could appreciate his friend’s reticence, and even understand his point of view, but he still held out hope. Reit ran his fingers through his night-black locks, his jaw set stubbornly. He shot molten glares as they debated quietly. He argued his objections doggedly. But never once did he invoke his authority as el ’ Yatza ,as was his right, and issue an unequivocal “no”. The mage couldn’t help but respect him for that.
    After a long pause, Reit said, “There is something different about him. I noticed it when they first brought him in here.”
    “What? I didn’t notice the guards treating him any differently.”
    “I don’t know,” Reit admitted. “It’s not any one thing I can place. Just a feeling. Take the ‘official’ story is that he attacked a granite mage, for one. Look at him. You don’t get wounds like that fighting a granite. And that’s assuming you even survive.”
    “My thoughts exactly,” Jaren said. He knew it was best to let el ’ Yatza convince himself, but Jaren couldn’t contain himself. “There were bits of glass surrounding his eye that were thinner than anything I’ve ever seen before. And the pellets in his hip and torso? They could have been granite-made, but they were far too uniform to come from anything but a mold. Yet they were too long and pointy to be shot from a sling, and there were no wood slivers in the wounds left behind by arrow shafts. Then there’s the—”
    “Alright Jaren, enough,” Reit said, cutting him off. “Bad enough you make me question my judgment without you also subjecting me to one of your endless, scholarly dissertations.”
    Jaren’s mouth moved of its own accord for a few more moments before he was able to rein it in. When he’d finally composed himself, Reit continued. “He can come with us. How far, I haven’t decided yet. But he’s your pet project, my friend, and if I get even the hint that he means to betray us...” His voice trailed off as he glanced meaningfully over at his brother, sleeping peacefully a few feet away.
    Jaren understood him perfectly. They’d all been friends since youth, and had been through everything together. Girls. Magic. Rebellion. And still it baffled Jaren how Retzu could be so categorically different from Reit. It still amazed him how a man as witty and honorable as Retzu could have ever joined the Silent Guild, let alone become one of its most decorated—and deadliest—members.

Chapter 3
    The next morning found Sal feeling much stronger. His joints still ached somewhat, protesting the instant he made to stand, but even that was fading rapidly. Jaren, however, was taking no chances. Restraining him as soon as he was up, Jaren’s fully green gemstone eyes ran over Sal’s wounds, then the rest of his body, with a scrutiny that Sal found almost uncomfortable. Finally, Jaren nodded his approval; not a clean bill of health, but apparently a step in the right direction. Sal, on the other hand, felt that he could at least hold his own if another cell boss decided to come looking to him for a handout.
    But as luck would have it, he didn’t get the chance to find out. Breakfast came and went without incident. Sal was able to enjoy his grey-green sludge in peace. More’s the pity. Thankfully, a single ration of the stuff was only a few mouthfuls, so he was able to finish quickly, dealing with the taste after it was already down.
    As he drained his bowl, Jaren offered his portion. “You need this more than I do,” he said. Before Sal could