Castille nodded her head.

"Aye, I want to break the curse on the Dellends."

The chatter in the hall fell into hushed whispers as all eyes in the room settled in our direction.

I learned about the Dellends from Mr. Reeves' books. It was a stretch of cursed land known as the rotten heart of Luskaine. Each year, its land became more enriched with various heavy metals. While this made the region rich in gold and iron, it also made the land toxic with lead and arsenic. It was so toxic that the population depended on merchant caravans to import food and water.

As the crops failed, farmers took up the ignoble profession of mining. This attracted a criminal element that organized the miners into gangs and cartels. Between the merchants and mining cartels, the nobility was powerless, making the area the most lawless place in Luskaine. It was nasty business all around—the kind of business most sane people stayed far away from.

My eyes skimmed the reward section of the job request. I stopped, blinked and read it again.

"Raised to minor nobility by the king of Luskaine?! 100,000 gold pieces?! That's a lot, even split three ways," I said, rubbing my chin.

"The gold's not important," Castille said.

"Then can I have your share?"

"No."

I pulled away from the document to lean back on my barstool. Just like that, an opportunity to clear my debt with the Sanctifiers had fallen into my lap. I only had to do something most people believed was impossible. It also gave me a convenient reason not to be in the capital when Rugar and his men started looking for me. As the pieces fell into place, I understood why Castille approached me. Only the desperate would take on this quest, but only a handful of people are desperate and competent.

Doing the impossible.

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I liked the sound of that. If… when I met Sin again, I would have proof that I was her equal… or her superior. Isn’t that how the stories go? The student becomes the teacher. The hunter becomes the hunted.

I took the bowl of gruel with both hands and slurped it down, wiping my mouth on the back of my hand.

"Will there be equal shares of gold?" I asked.

"I wouldn't have it any other way."

I nodded.

"Then I'm in."

Castille smirked.

"We should leave before Ruger's men start wondering where you are."

She slipped the job request back into her pocket and walked to the door. The stocky, short man followed behind her. I took a moment to observe the pair. They couldn't have been more opposite. I shrugged. It takes all kinds in a party or, so Gren said. If Castille was as sharp as I thought, she had good reason to keep Dugan around.

I followed a few seconds behind them, crossing the hall’s floor and ignoring the patrons staring at me. As I walked out the front door, something blocked my path, and I questioned my previous logic. Dugan knelt on one knee, scratching the chin of the boar with saddle bags that had waited outside the bar.

I scrunched up my face and turned to Castille.

"Is the boar a pack mule?"

"His name is Thor," Castille said.

"Thor the boar. Cute."

"More than cute," Castille said. "Thor!"

The boar snapped to attention, settling its intelligent eyes on Castille.

"Are there any of Rugar's men around?"

The boar grunted. Castille nodded as if she understood him. Dugan patted Thor on the head, gesturing at a job well done.

What had I gotten myself into?

Seeing my confusion, Castille smiled.

"That pig has a nose for trouble. He’s saved our bacon on more than one occasion. Come, there is an inn near here where we can get a few hours of sleep."

I nodded, falling into step beside Castille. Dugan and Thor walked on her other side.

I had to admit she was something. Graceful and long-limbed, Castille was only half a head taller than me yet held herself like a giant. My time as an orphan had put me in the habit of hunching my back. I learned to make myself as small as possible to avoid notice… and punishment. My training under Sin had only drawn out that trait; going unnoticed was one-half of misdirection.

The full moon was out as we walked down the empty street to the inn. A few minutes into our journey, Thor snorted out a series of low, throaty grunts.

"We’re being followed. Could be one of Rugar’s," Castille whispered.

Dugan gave her a slow nod in agreement. I focused my ears, filtering out the noise of our feet and hooves to sense the world around me.

There.

It was a light footfall, a second out of rhythm with our pace.

"It's only one person," I said.

Castille smirked.

"What do you say, Jacob? How about you show us a few more of those skills?"