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gambling.” 
    “It also means that you won’t be able to see or hear anything going on out here, including me,” I told him. “And while I’ll be able to see you, I won’t be getting any sound.”
    Phaelan took a long pull on his ale. “So if one of my fellow players decides to kill me, screaming won’t do me a damn bit of good.”
    “Pretty much. Though I think I’d get the general idea from the visuals.”
    “Good to know.”
    I turned toward the card table area just enough to able to see the players. “Another good thing to know is that our quarry is here.”
    Phaelan didn’t turn and look. “Describe.”
    “Easy. At the moment, he’s the only male goblin at the table. There’s a female, and judging from the pile of chips in front of her, she’s doing well. The other three are all men: two elves and a human. I can’t tell through the wards, but they’re dressed like mages out for a night on the town.”
    My cousin groaned into his ale. “Of course they are.”
    Phaelan had no magic of his own, but he somehow managed to know a mage on sight, or at least his skin did. The more it crawled, the more powerful the mage. My cousin turned and coolly took in the five mages at the table; the table he’d be joining as soon as they finished the hand they were playing now.
    His smile never wavered, and his lips never moved when he said, “You owe me.”
    I pretended to take a sip of my ale. “Your ‘can’t lose’ scheme last month damn near got me disemboweled. And have I mentioned Ocnus Rancil’s visit to my office this morning?”
    Phaelan winced. “No, you haven’t. But I have a good idea what might have happened. You’re a good sport, cousin.”
    “Damn right, I am. Believe me, we’re even.”
    As Phaelan strolled over to the pair of uniformed goblins standing guard by the ropes, two of the five mages glanced up and looked downright happy to see my cousin. They must not know Phaelan. Maybe that he had money and he was a mundane was enough for them. They thought their ship had come in. They’d be finding out soon enough that it carried a pirate.
    The hand finished, and two seats were still available at the table—one next to Lord Mortsani, the other two chairs over.   
    Phaelan took the seat right next to the goblin nachtmagus.
    I stifled a grin. When my cousin decided to man up, he didn’t fool around.
    Judging from the stack of chips at his left elbow, Lord Mortsani had money; not a lot, but enough to cover a night of fun unless he got reckless. Phaelan’s job was to goad him into doing just that.
    As I watched, I was reminded that my cousin would have made a fine actor. He was at a table with five mages, and he looked as cool as water flowing off a Myloran iceberg. And it wasn’t limited only to appearance; Phaelan had pushed down any and all fear he normally would have had being in the same room with mages, let alone sitting at the same table with them. Though in a profession where you could be outgunned, outmaneuvered, or outnumbered any day at any time, you learned to bluff and bluster with the best of them. It won and kept the admiration and confidence of a crew, and the earned fear of targets and competition.
    To put it simply, Phaelan could shovel bullshit with the best of them.
    Lady Kaharit’s ring was nowhere in sight, but that didn’t mean Lord Mortsani didn’t have it with him.
    I left the bar, found myself a nice vacant spot near a wall, and stilled my thoughts. I wasn’t trying to speak or hear past Nathrach’s wards, I was counting on being able to sense the ring or at least a few of the jewels; that is, if Lord Mortsani had them on him. I took a deep breath and let it out.
    “What a pleasurable surprise to see you here this evening, Mistress Benares.”
    I jumped and my body had itself a full-length shiver. The comment came from behind me, but the dark velvety voice came from the hot dream I’d probably be having later.
    Most people would’ve said “pleasant,”