The man Uzca sat across from in the booth was not at all like he was expecting. Given the source of the informant, the street rat named Ricky, what the boy had said about the men going to see this information broker, and the apparent quality of the establishment when he had first seen the Driftwood Tavern, he had expected the informant to be a greasy man with an unpleasant demeanor and a constant scowl.

Given that the Driftwood Tavern was actually much nicer than he had expected, he should have revised his expectations.

"Good to meet you. I'm Haversen. Shell tells me you're looking into the Rossenal family?"

The man had a smooth voice, fine clothing, and a top hat sitting nearby. He looked like he belonged in the kind of fancy restaurant that Thad had initially wanted to go to. He had neatly combed hair and looked to be early middle-aged. Around his father's age, he would guess.

"I am, yes."

"I have a few rules before we begin. Number one: I think introductions are important. You can tell a lot about a person by the way they introduce themselves, and I won't deal with anyone who hasn't introduced themselves to me personally. So why don't we start there?"

"Of course, sorry, that was rude of me. I'm Uzca, son of Renza," he said and offered a hand to shake.

Haversen smiled warmly and shook his hand with a firm grip.

"A pleasure to meet you, Uzca. The second rule is that all information has a price. Whether that's information I give to you or information you give to me. I don't work for free, and I don't think you should either. People often know things that are worth more than they realize, so I like to set expectations upfront. I want people to get a fair value from what they have to offer."

"That's generous of you."

Haversen spread his hands in a helpless gesture. "I am a trader of information, not wealth. I often find that I have more of one than the other, so I want people to have an open mind when they come to me. The third and last rule is that information can be dangerous. If I think the information you're requesting is dangerous to either of us, I can choose not to share it at my own prerogative. You will be refunded any monetary compensation or given an equal value of other information if what you have requested is out of my ability or comfort level to provide."

"That seems reasonable."

"Wonderful, now, I already know what you want, so why don't I tell you what I want. If you think the information is worthwhile, maybe we can make a trade."

Haversen paused for a sip from his mug and settled into his side of the booth. "Ahh, nothing beats the drink here. So, Uzca. I wasn't surprised when I got the request for information about the Rossenal family. They're an up-and-coming family in some ways, so it makes sense that people would want to know. When I started looking into you, however...it raised some questions that have since been solidified by my meeting you. So, let's start with the basic question: why are you looking for information on the Rossenal family?"

Uzca didn't know how to answer the question and wasn't even sure he wanted to. Uzca didn't know much about trading information, just what he had heard in stories or how old ladies in the village or traveling merchants traded information. From what he knew, though, he thought it was supposed to be a somewhat clandestine affair. The informant wasn't supposed to ask why you wanted information. They were just supposed to get it to you.

Haversen could clearly see Uzca's conflict of emotion and perhaps his confusion, and he held up a hand to forestall Uzca's objections.

"I can see that you're worried about giving me this information. There's perhaps a misunderstanding of what I do. Here's the thing, Uzca, I deal in open information. I make no guarantees that the information you provide me won't be sold to another, but I will safeguard your anonymity. If you tell me that you're planning on using the information to kill the Rossenal heir, I will happily sell the family the information that I know someone is plotting his death, but I won't reveal you as the source of that information or that you are the one planning the murder."

"That seems...rather extreme."

"And it's not something someone would come to an open information dealer for. Or at least, if they were, they would pay in coin or less incriminating information for what they want. I tell you this so you understand the scope of my beliefs."

Something about the word snagged Uzca's attention.

"Your beliefs?"

"I am, of course, a faithful follower of the Living God. The core tenet of the faith is truth and the free sharing of knowledge. I'm no priest, though, so I'm a little lax on the 'free sharing' bit. Still, knowledge shouldn't be hidden away."

Uzca felt like he needed Thad at the table. The man sounded reasonable enough, but he was clearly skilled at getting what he wanted from people, regardless of what he said about all information having value.

A quick glance told him dessert was just arriving, so it was unlikely he could get Thad to come help in any case.

Uzca, of course, didn't want to stop dealing with the man. He wanted answers and had no concerns about his safety. Thad had reassured him that he was a full citizen and had every right to travel the empire. Uzca had two things he didn't want to reveal: that he was given a quest by his god and was related to the Rossenal family. Even if that information wasn't directly tied to him, he worried about the fallout of that information getting out.

Uzca sighed. He didn't have anything to hide, and if this was how he got information on his family, then so be it.

"Over a decade ago, two people disappeared from my village. One was the daughter of Alocain Rossenal, Freyen, and the other was her son, Frenza. I'm trying to figure out what happened to them and if anyone in the family knows their whereabouts."

Haverson rubbed his chin for a moment and then reached out and ran a finger around the lip of his mug. His expression was one of deep thought.

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"That is interesting. Very interesting. And it gives me another question, but I should allow you a turn. You did come to me after all."

Haversen knew the question, but making Uzca ask again was no doubt a sly tactic to squeeze yet more information out. Uzca understood the game now. If he wanted, he could play along and try to reveal as little as possible while gaining as much as possible, but he didn't have the patience for it.

"What can you tell me about the Rossenal family?"

Haversen's distant, brooding look fell away, and he smiled.

"Straight to the point then. I can reveal much. Most of it is common knowledge you could find if you just went to Telestria and asked some random people off the street, but it has value. Given what you said you were looking for and why you were asking, I think it will be worth it. There are some more interesting tidbits that you might be able to exchange for the answers to further questions."

Haversen cleared his throat and sat up straight.

"The Rossenal family is ostensibly a minor noble family primarily known for being shrewd merchants. The truth is that they are one of the most powerful families in Telestria but hide that fact well. People know of their wealth but little of their influence. To touch on what you have told me, it is known that Alocain's oldest daughter married while off in a distant land, and he returned without her. It is also known that she returned just a little over ten years ago."

Uzca forced himself to remain calm. He had hoped, but he hadn't anticipated knowing so soon. He expected to arrive in Telestria and then spend an annoyingly long time trying to track them down. He clearly couldn't hide everything from his body language because Haversen smiled.

"Yes, they both live. Freyen returned with her son, but little is known about the father or where she was. They've lived quiet lives in Telestria up until a few months ago."

Uzca almost immediately started sweating. To be so close and to hear something else might have happened put him on edge. He tried to smother the emotions again, but he could tell he was doing a bad job.

"I can see you're interested in more. If you'll indulge another question, I can provide. What can you tell me about your village and anything you knew about the wayward Freyen and Frenza while they lived there. People speculate where she was, but no one knew for sure."

Uzca could tell this question was valuable to the man. It seemed like gossip, but perhaps that was the most valuable currency among the nobility. He had already mentioned his village. It probably wasn't a stretch to figure out he was a Highlander, and it wasn't as though it was that much of a secret. He was just looking to avoid open hostility.

Now that he thought about it, other than a few random people, he was beginning to question what made his father and the others so convinced they were hated in the lowlands. It was a question for another time.

"I'm a Highlander. I come from a village deep in the Dragonfang mountains. We mostly keep to ourselves, but we get traders through. The Rossenal family made a summer trip to the village every year, though I do not know why. Freyen fell in love with a man there, and they married and had a son."

He could hide his own existence.

"Frenza was two years older than me, so twenty-four now, but they disappeared from the village when I was ten. Twelve years is a long time to change, but when he was a kid, Frenza was the best. He was the kind of person who would stop what he was doing, no matter what, and leave to help out someone else. Humble, patient, and kind. That's how I always thought of him and remembered him."

"Was he trained in any skills as a child? Oh, what of his father?"

Uzca wasn't sure if he should reveal this, but he guessed as long as he didn't disclose the same about himself, it would be alright. Shell came by with a drink for Uzca. He apparently looked like he needed it. She set down a new mug for Haversen. The man took a long pull before Uzca replied.

"His father was a blacksmith."

Haversen nearly choked on his drink. "Really? Freyen Rossenal went off and married a blacksmith in the highlands?"

Uzca felt a spark of fury rise in him. He smothered it quickly, but Haversen must have seen the momentary dark look. Fortunately, he interpreted it wrong.

"Oh, sorry. I'm sure you knew the man, and I mean no disrespect to your people. I shouldn't judge without having known him myself. Please go on."

"His father tried to teach him some of the trade, but it wasn't right for him. He spent more time sewing clothing with his mother, actually. He had nimble fingers and was good as most things that required fine work."

"Interesting. Any sports?"

"Wrestling is our primary sport in the village. Frenza wasn't very good, but he was also a child. I wrestled with him myself a few times and usually won."

He was still proud of that, even after all these years. His brother had never been the strongest. Who knew how time might have changed him, though. Freyen was tall and thin, and Renza was tall and built like a brick wall. He couldn't see his brother being built like his father, but Uzca was certain he was tall.

"Yes, that will do nicely."

"Really?" Uzca didn't think he had really shared that much. He was glad Haversen seemed to have forgotten that Uzca never actually said why he cared where they had gone or why he was now looking for them after twelve years.

"Oh yes. Now, let me tell you about some recent commotion."

Haversen's eyes gleamed, and Uzca could tell this was where the man got the satisfaction from his job. Sharing the gossip. The man might claim to love truth and sharing information, but deep down, he wanted reactions.

"As you may—or may not, actually—know, the emperor's son recently passed away from an incurable malady. I have some information about that, but it is unrelated to your query. The emperor sent word that he would choose his new heir from a few specific noble lines. Rossenal was selected as one of the possibilities. The current heir is, in fact, Freyen's son. The house has been in a bit of an uproar trying to prepare the young man for the competition."

Uzca could only stare at the man in astonishment. Frenza...could be the next emperor? Going from not knowing whether or not his lost family was even alive to knowing they were alive, they were in Telestria, and Frenza could be the next emperor was too much. If Uzca hadn't been sitting down, he would have needed to do so.

Uzca was doubly glad Shell had read the situation earlier and brought him a drink. He took a long pull on his mug and set it down. He needed some support. He looked over at his companions and saw Bezben and Thad eating the final bites of some pie. Bezben had his eyes closed as he slowly chewed, and Thad seemed to be taking notes about what he had eaten.

"I can see that was unexpected," Haversen said.

Uzca turned back and deflated.

"Yeah. I didn't even know they were alive, and now hearing Frenza could be the next emperor...it's a lot to handle."

"Well. I'm glad I was able to provide you with some illumination. Do you have any other questions for me, Uzca?

Uzca wanted to know more, not just about his family, but the unexpected news had bowled him over. He picked up his drink and stood.

"I don't think so, Haversen. It's been nice talking to you."

The man stood and shook his free hand.

"Likewise, Uzca. I do hope you find the rest of your answers and figure out what it is you want to do now."

Uzca felt the same way. Lost and unsure of how to proceed. As he walked back to his table, he reflected that at least they were leaving to go to the Dreggs in the morning. That should take his mind off things.

"Uzca. You missed. The best pie. I've ever eaten," Bezben said.

"That good?"

"You know what," Thad said. "Forget the bakery. I'm just moving here."

"We could get a place together. How much money do I have, Uzca?"

"Enough for a few nights in an inn, not a house in the city."

"Damn."

"Did you get the information you were looking for?"

"Yeah," Uzca sighed. "But it's not exactly what I was expecting."

Bezben opened an eye from his food meditation and looked at his cousin. "Bad news?"

"Not quite. I'll tell you when we get to our rooms. Are you two done? I think I've lost any appetite."

"We've already paid," Thad said.

Together, they slowly made their way to the inn. Two were the gaits of men who had eaten and drank far too much to handle, and one was the walk of a man who was lost and had no direction.