The tavern's entrance greets me with a warm embrace. The embers in the center bathe the room in amber light and spread shadows all around, as far away as possible.

I shed my cape and hood. I feel my shoulders light, as if I had been carrying a weight.

I approach the counter: I am incredibly thirsty. "Give me a beer." I slam two Bronze Rays on the counter without caring to put too much force into them.

The innkeeper grunts a little. He disappears toward the barrels and returns only when he has my mug nice and full.

I don't even give him time to put it down that I grab it and wade through it like it was stream water.

"Innkeeper, another mug for the young lady: she seems to be very thirsty," someone exclaims with an obvious need to mind other people's business.

I am too tired to turn around and punch him in the face. I don't even turn around. "If you're looking for company under the sheets, you've got not only the wrong door, but the wrong damn castle. Get lost."

I turn around and try to drown myself in my mug. For a long moment I think there is nothing better than being able to become invisible on command.

Reality knocks with the unpleasant voice of the maniac to my right. "Come on, there's no need to be so coy. I just want to make friends."

Yes, like I'm clueless. I turn around sharply. I'm on the verge of yelling at him.

He interrupts me with a show of hands. "If the Beggar had warned me about your temper, I would have avoided accepting this assignment."

If until now I chose not to give him even half of a glance, now that I can look at him better I have a sudden revelation: he is that dude I bumped into earlier. The one who pointed me to the parish for the poor and hungry!

"If this is the way you approach people, it's a wonder they trust you with anything." How long has he been after me?

The creep bursts out an unpleasant laugh. "That's because I'm far too good at my job."

I sink a mouthful of beer down my throat. I tap the mug on the bar; clear sign that I want another one. "Put it on the nice man's tab here." I wait for the drink to be refilled. I lift it, but do not bring it to my lips. "Come to the point. My patience is short and you have already used it all up."

The man rises from the stool. "I am Sebastian." He performs a bow that could be considered offensive in at least ten of the twelve Constellations. "The Princes are not in the habit of relying on others for this kind of work, but we have a problem and outside help may prove more than sufficient."

I cannot imagine what I can do that they are not allowed to do, but since I have to ingratiate myself with them, I might as well listen. I wave him on with my left hand and down the beer.

The creep smiles at me. Maybe even too much for my taste. "I'm sure you are aware of the saying 'black sheep,' right? Well, even Beggars have those. A troublesome one, even."

"And I suppose they want me to get rid of it."

Sebastian shakes his head. "If it were that easy, we would have done it already. No, what we need is to know who he really is."

And here I thought Beggars had eyes and ears everywhere. "I don't see how I can help you."

"Actually, it's simpler than you think. At least, for you who are an outsider." The creep rests his left arm on the counter. If we weren't talking business, I'd swear that's the classic pose of someone who is trying to pick up a woman. "This guy isn't exactly hard to find, but he's not at all easy to get a hold of. All we know is that he has connections way up high. The times we've tried to change his mind... let's just say it wasn't pleasant for either side."

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

I can only imagine what he means by "changing his mind." I suppose, they tried to threaten him. "I need to get more information on this. Do you already have an idea of what I should do?"

Sebastian turns away from the counter. He shrugs. "Let's say, for now, I will show you the person in question. How to act I'll leave it up to you."

I turn unhurriedly. To think of entering Beggar's Hill without the knowledge of its Princes is pure utopia. I suppose this encounter is also no accident. What escapes me, for now, is why.

"It flatters me to have such freedom." I rise in turn from my stool. I wave to the Sisters with my hand. I follow them as they get up, but keep Sebastian in the corner of my eye in case he does something stupid.

"Freedom is not exactly the right word," the creep comments. "You'll get a chance to see what I mean when we're on the ground."

I give him a look of the kind so intense it could pierce the walls from side to side. "So why are we wasting precious time?"

Sebastian sighs. He curves his eyelashes downward and squints. "After you," he says, with a sweeping gesture of his hand acted to give me precedence.

I square him from head to toe, almost as if he were a pest. "Where I come from, a woman never goes before a man. Besides, I don't know the town. Lead the way."

I can read the disappointment in his black eyes. I only smile when her back is turned to me. What does he think of me, that I am stupid? Move out, creep. If he tries anything suspicious, my Sisters and I will make him walk with his legs open for the rest of his days.

Despite the liters of alcohol ingested, the capital city does not improve in appearance or smell. I think I hate it so deeply, I can't stop imagining it covered with plants, trees, and greenery. For a fleeting instant, I swear the houses, alleys, and people have all vanished. There is only a blanket of grass and a little wooden house on the horizon. Where have I seen it before?

Sebastian shakes me out of my thoughts. "We're here."

I snort. "Where are we?"

I lift my eyes. All I see is a dilapidated building. I don't know how it manages to stand, but it would only take a little wind to pull it down.

"This is a zaranet," Sebastian comments. From the way he says it, I have to assume it's a bad place even for a creep like him.

Come to think of it, I've heard of it. "Isn't it a Nursing Home?" But, try as I might, I can't remember.

"For the love of the Sun God, of course not." I can swear I saw a chill go up in his raven black hair. "This is where they bring the Sons of Tzaarat, the ones who are now a step away from croaking."

"And why did you bring me here?"

"Because our man is in there."

Ah. Now I understand. "Is he a Son of Tzaarat himself?"

Sebastian shrugs his shoulders. "Maybe so. What we know for sure is that no one knows where he came from." He brings his arms to his chest and crosses them. "All he does is spend the whole day there, from Andante to Allegretto."

"I see," I interrupt him. "In that case, I guess we'll just have to wait it out." I look at Sebastian long enough to let him know I'm serious. I read the discomfort in his irises and twisted lashes. "Do you want to join us?"

"You don't have to. What you needed to know you know now. I'll leave the rest to you." He nods at me and trails off. It must really scare him, the Curse. But then again, who doesn't?

Even my Sisters, Claudiette and Rosanne, are uncomfortable.

"I would like to ask a favor of you," I tell them. "Keep that snake in your sights. I don't trust it."

"Do you really want to stay here?" asks Rosanne, with a hint in her voice.

I nod. "Don't worry. Meroll is with me. We won't get any closer than we have to."

"Are you really sure?"

I nod to her. "Go ahead, don't worry."

"Go ahead," Claudiette pushes her away. "She'll be fine. Mithra has a tough hide!"

I smile at both of them. "I will join you at the Tavern before darkness falls and the Solar Pact begins." They respond with a nod of assent, and I follow them with my eyes until I am sure they have vanished completely. Only then do I turn to Meroll. "I'm going in."

"Be careful," replies Sister, her eyelashes furrowed and her lips stretched into a thin line.

I kiss her forehead and advance toward the czaranet without fear. No one in his right mind would enter a place full of Sons of Tzaarat. But I have nothing to fear. I am one of them.

The interior is dark. The building is supported by colonnades and vaulted ceilings, but they are so low as to resemble catacombs. Each cell is used to house one to three Sons of Tzaarat. They lie on straw beds and are cared for by healing nuns and clerics. But, in that gloomy place, not even Miracles have power. The Curse is ancient and powerful. The Children of Tzaarat have one and only one destiny. Which is perhaps also mine, but for some reason, at least for now, it has not yet taken root all the way. Perhaps that is my fault as well: a perpetual reminder of the blasphemy of my actions.

I do not know the man the Princes wish me to meet, but something suggests I will have no trouble finding him. So I advance slowly. Coughs and groans accompany me. I look at them one by one. Just standing next to them would be enough to be infected. But I have nothing to fear.

A hubbub surprises me. I turn down the corridor to my right and at the back I glimpse two figures. One wears a rumpled, frayed pouch. The other has white armor, the symbol of the Sun God in gold on his blue cape, and a crown embellished with jewelry and jewels.

A knot tightens at the base of my throat: Sheikh Yusuf!