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person in the world that Ghaji trusted more. If Diran said he sensed evil, Ghaji believed him, without question.
    “My teeth have been on edge since we first approached the dock,” Ghaji admitted, “and the hair on the back of my neck is standing at attention. What do you think is causing it?”
    “The same force that drove the gulls to attack us,” the priest said. “But other than that, I cannot say.”
    “Do you think it also has something to do with the way everyone’s been looking at us?” Ghaji nodded toward a berthed sail boat as they passed. There were three men aboard—two humans and a half-elf—and whatever they had been doing a moment ago, they now stood upon the deck of their vessel, glaring at the companions as they walked by, faces contorted into expressions of pure hatred so intense they were almost comical.
    Almost.
    “We do seem to be attracting a great deal of negative attention,” Diran said. “Far more than mere travelers should get for simply walking along the dock. It’s almost as if our arrival was expected, though obviously not welcomed.”
    The trio in the sailboat wasn’t the only ones staring at them with hate-filled eyes. Sailors, fishermen, dockhands … all fixed the companions with baleful glares that seemed to carry an almost physical force. If eyes were swords, then those gazes could’ve pierced flesh.
    Ghaji’s fingers toyed with the haft of his axe, but though the half-orc made no move to draw his weapon, Diran—with the awareness that only long-time companions possess—said, “Easy, my friend. They appear content to stare. For now, at least.”
    Ghaji nodded, though his perpetual scowl deepened in displeasure.
    Diran glanced back over his shoulder toward Solus. “Do you sense anything more than you did aboard the shallop?”
    The psiforged’s crystals flashed briefly, then went dim. “No more than you do. The atmosphere of anger is stronger here, but I cannot locate its center. It seems to come from both everywhere and nowhere at the same time.”
    Tresslar snorted. “That’s helpful.”
    Ghaji glared at the elderly artificer. Ever since Solus had joined them, Tresslar had been envious of the psiforged’s powers, and his envy had only grown after the loss of the dragonwand. With the wand in his possession, Tresslar had been the most powerful memberof their group in many ways. Without it, though he still possessed his skills at artificing, that distinction fell to Solus—and Tresslar was far from happy about it.
    Diran stepped forward to walk alongside Asenka. “Is Kolbyr always like this?”
    “I’ve only been here a few times. Most of my encounters with Kolbyrites have been at sea.”
    Ghaji knew that by “encounters” Asenka was referring to the Sea Scorpions’ periodic clashes with the Coldhearts.
    Asenka went on. “You met Haaken and his crew. By and large, most Kolbyrites are like them: ill-tempered, belligerent, ready to fight at the least provocation. But
this
… this is different.”
    Ghaji stepped forward to flank Diran. “Do you think this has something to do with the curse on the house of Kolbyr?”
    Diran thought for a moment before replying. “The tales we’ve heard make no mention of it affecting anyone but the firstborn heir of the house of Kolbyr, and even then, only the heir’s appearance is supposed to be affected. But rumors and stories never tell the entire truth, do they? I suppose it’s possible, though. We’ll just have to see for ourselves, and in the meantime, remain vigilant.”
    “In other words, business as usual,” Ghaji said.
    Diran smiled. “Precisely.”

    Kolbyr’s harbormaster demanded what seemed to Ghaji an exorbitant fee for allowing them passage into the city, especially since they didn’t have a ship of their own to dock. But the man—sour-faced, with a scowl even more pronounced than Ghaji’s—fairly trembled with suppressed rage while they talked, and Ghaji had the feeling that only the