Jasper bent down, taking the lyre out of her grasp. “Until then, we’ll be holding onto this.”

Her lips tightened, but she didn’t object. “You really shouldn’t just leave a precious relic on the boat. If you take it to the merchants’ guild or one of the temples, it will be much safer.”

He hesitated. “But the harbor guard is watching it.”

Qarda cocked an eyebrow. “Do they know they’re guarding a relic?”

“I didn’t specifically mention it,” he admitted.

“The guard is literally guarding the gangplank right now,” Qarda pointed out. “That’s good enough for mundane goods, but for something really valuable? People will go the extra mile. They’ll take a potion that lets them swim through the icy waters, they’ll recruit a mage who can become invisible or cast illusions - they’ll find a way. Thanks to the villagers’ big mouths, half the town no doubt has heard the rumors. I insist that you place this relic somewhere that has proper wards, like a temple or the merchant's guild.”

“All right, all right.” He conceded, raising his hands in defeat. “I’ll take it to one of the places you mentioned, but - I hope you don’t take offense - but I’m not going to be telling you where I take it.”

Qarda nodded primly. “Good - you shouldn’t tell me, but I’m glad you listened to reason.” She stood up, brushing away imaginary dirt from her hems, while she studiously ignored the all-too-real blood stains on her sleeve. Reaching into her bag, she drew out a small card and wrote on it. “Here, this is where am I staying. My group is here for the auction, so I hope you’ll be amenable to staying in the city at least that long, but let me know when you’re ready to leave - even if it’s before the auction. The relic is more important.”

He took the card, placing it with Aphora’s letter. “Do you need help getting back to your rooms?” Ihra asked, concern on her face.

The Moon-kissed started to refuse, but paused, glancing down at her wounded shoulder. “Perhaps traveling in a group would be safer.” She shivered a little. “You know, I’ve been to this city at least a dozen times and never been attacked. It never even occurred to me that I might be in danger when I left to visit you. I should have asked Labbu to accompany me.”

Jasper and Ihra shared a glance. Jasper had the sneaking suspicion that the attack had been purposefully targeted at them, but he decided to accompany Qarda anyways. If some group really was gunning for him, they might attack Qarda again in the hopes of getting to him. Taking the lyre with them, tightly wrapped in thick coverings so that not even a trace of it could be seen, they escorted Qarda back to her lodgings, a magnificent estate near the market district.

When the Djinn had disappeared safely inside, Jasper turned to Ihra, awkwardly shifting the bulky lyre between his arms. “Well, where should we take this?”

It was only a short walk to the central market. The wide open pavilion was filled with stalls, residents hawking their wares, dressed in loud colors and shouting with even louder voices. But many of the people bustling through the market were not there for trade, but for spiritual reasons. Although Kūr-Kuppû was a small city, straddling the line between a large village and city as narrowly as one could, thanks to its importance as a regional center, it was a major cultic center, with temples dedicated to nearly every deity the people of Lake Hurbas̆u worshipped. One of the temples was even a local chapter of the cult of Nahremah. Of course, given the potential connection between the cult and their attackers, Jasper had no intention of depositing the lyre there.

Instead, they decided to head to the temple of Selene, or Yarha. The temple of the moon goddess was a small affair, the majority of the population being first and foremost devotees of Shamsha, but the shrine was still surprisingly lavish. The square building’s walls were pure white, the entire building focused around an open-air central courtyard. In the middle of the courtyard was a statue of the goddess.

She stood on a crescent moon, clad in a silver silk robe that fluttered in the wind blowing off of the lake. Hundreds of candles stood around the statue, on the floor, stuck into the walls of the building, and, above all in the shrines. More than a dozen shrines were set into the courtyard’s walls, each one dedicated to a different hypostatization of the Celestial Queen.

A few attendants scurried past them as they walked through the temple, but no one drew near, except for a few who gawked curiously at Ihra’s antlers. A man dressed in a simple white tunic was bowed low before the statue, the rising and falling of his prayer barely reaching Jasper’s ears. Cautiously he approached the man, his footsteps ringing loudly across the glossy obsidian floor, in whose surface shone the light of a thousand candles.

“Pardon me?”

The man didn’t respond, his words still echoing across the stone floor. Jasper waited patiently, and after a few minutes, the man fell silent. Standing up, the man turned to face them. His face beamed with a gentle calm. “Ah, good, you’re still here. I’m sorry to ignore you, but I’m sure you can understand it would be rude to interrupt my communion with the goddess for mortals.”

Jasper nodded. A few months ago, he wouldn’t have understood. Now, he sort of got it. Kas̆dael seemed rather laid back, all things considered, but he doubted every deity was the same. “No problem.” He held the package up. “I was told that your temple might be able to secure a valuable possession. It’s just for a few days, till after the auction.”

The priest smiled. “Most of the merchants store their goods with the merchant guild, but we still offer our services for those who are more traditionally minded. Come.” He led them through the courtyard, back into the main building of the temple.

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He stopped them when they reached an ornate arch. Through the arch, Jasper could see another shrine, larger than those in the courtyard, but the priest gently restrained his arm when he tried to step through. “I’m sorry, my lord, but this is the main shrine for our Lady Yarha. I’m sure it’s not grand as what you’re used to seeing, but, like the others, only priests may approach it.” He pointed through the arch to the back wall. A matching arch was set in the wall, this one closed by a glowing wall of light. “That is the temple’s vault, protected by the goddess herself. No one will get through there short of divine intervention.”

Jasper handed him the lyre, and the priest carried it past the shrine, disappearing through the wall of light. He returned a few moments later. “Now, for the matter of payment. Normally the temple asks for a small donation to the coffers, but I was wondering if I could implore you to do a small favor instead.” The priest paused, looking between the two, his eyes lingering on Ihra.

Jasper waved his hand for the priest to continue.

“As I’m sure you know, outside of the city of the Moon-kissed, the cult of Yarha is not one of the most prominent in our lands, so I could hardly believe my eyes when I saw you, my lady - an elf!”

Ihra protested. “I’m not really an elf, just some distant descendant.”

But the priest shook his head. “Your lineage is your secret to share, my lady, but even amongst the Celestians, there are few who can grow antlers. If you are not a full elf, then you must be blessed by the goddess.”

She looked uncomfortable but didn’t object. “All I ask is that you come to one meeting of ours, so that the devotees of Yarha may have the rare chance to meet one of her children.”

Ihra shrugged, looking at Jasper helplessly. “I guess that’s fine, as long as it happens before the auction.”

The priest beamed, bowing to her. “Excellent, excellent - if you’re available for tomorrow tonight, I’ll arrange the meeting then.”

Ihra sighed, defeated. “All right, let me know the time.”

When they exited the temple, the two shared a bemused look as they strode through a crowded market.

“Well, that was interesting,” Jasper drawled.

Ihra peered back, making sure no one from the temple was watching, before responding. “I can’t say I’m exactly thrilled about it, but I guess it’s not really that much to ask.” A shiver ran down her spine as a thought suddenly occurred to her. “You don’t think they’re going to ask me to do something, do you, like sing?” she gasped.

Jasper kept his face perfectly straight, nodding solemnly. “I assumed they wanted you to lead the worship - who better than one blessed by the goddess.”

She gaped at him, horrified, until he dissolved into laughter.

Pouting, she punched his arm lightly. “That’s not funny.”

He laughed harder. “You’re right - it’s hilarious.” Quiet down, he patted her on the shoulder. “You’ve forged deals with faceless horrors in forgotten cities, fought undead queens, and slain shalgū. Surely you aren’t afraid to perform in public?”

Ihra nodded stoutly. “I would rather fight three shalgū at once than sing in front of a crowd.”

He snorted. ‘You know, I was just joking, but, in all honesty, they probably are wanting you to do something more than just show up.”

She glared at him. “Don’t even say that!”

He laughed again. “All right, all right, I’m dropping it. Speaking of dropped topics,” he continued, “we still need to catch up with Bā’er and see if we can find any more information on our mysterious assailants.” He glanced up at the sky. The formerly clear day had given way to a dense thicket of clouds that blotted out the sun, the wind whistling off the ice-encrusted mountains, but there was enough light in the sky to make it clear that night was still a few hours off. “Why don’t we go now?”

As they made their way through the busy streets of Kūr-Kuppû, he kept a wary eye on the bustling crowd. More than once, he almost convinced himself that someone was following them, their face hidden behind a winter hat or scarf. But without fail, the suspect would eventually peel off onto another street, leading him to doubt himself. There was a big difference, it turned out, between watching spy movies, and actually knowing how to spot a tail. Still, Jasper couldn't shake the lingering sense of paranoia. I wonder if there’s some sort of tracking spell I could learn. That seems like the sort of spell an Inquisitor might eventually get.

The crowd grew heavier as they approached the fish market and, so too, did the smell. Jasper liked fish as much as the next guy, but as he waded through the marketplace, gagging on the overwhelming fishy odor, he was pretty sure it was going to be a long time before he was in the mood for some fish and chips.

“Fresh fish - blessed by Hurbas̆u herself!”

“Hot Karish-fin soup - two silver for a bowl.”

“Kalmû skins - warm and waterproof.”

The market rang with the cries of the hawkers, each waving their wares at him as they passed by their stalls. All manner of fish were on display, lying on slabs of thick lake ice; some of them looked familiar, but many were strange. He paused at one that look a bit like an octopus, except for the vast number of legs that sprouted from it, far more than a mere eight. The creature was indeed fresh, the tentacles still slightly twitching on the icy slab.

As he examined the odd beast, Jasper felt it more than he saw it - a momentary flash of ill intent. He turned in time to see a short man stabbing a long, thin needle at him, the man’s eyes widening in surprise as Jasper stared down at him.

His hands moving like a flash, Jasper redirected the man’s thrust. Purely by accident, the needle thrust downward into the assailant's own hand. Jasper immediately closed the distance, blocking the man from the sight of the crowd.

The assailant shook his hand in a panic, trying to withdraw the needle, but Jasper clamped down with an iron grip, forcing the contents of the syringe into the man's hands as the two fought for control.

The struggle was short-lived. Within seconds, the man began to sway as a dopey grin spread across his face. He took a staggering step towards them and would have faceplanted if the two had not grabbed him. “Here, help me carry him,” Jasper whispered to Ihra. “Let's take him to Bā'er's tavern. Maybe we can learn something useful from him”

Supporting the man between them, who staggered around like a drunkard, they pushed their way through the crowd. No one gave a second glance to the three, drunken sailors a more than common sight along the rough docks - the few who might have had suspicions not willing to insert themselves into any shady business.

Still, Jasper heaved a sigh of relief when he saw the Mermaid’s Tail emerge through the fog. A two-story tall wooden statue of a mermaid stood beside the brothel, painted in gaudy colors and embarrassingly obscene. It wasn’t the naked, Rubenesque torso of the mermaid that drew his attention though, but the rather delicately detailed privates that adorned her piscine half. He had often wondered how mermaids were supposed to be enchanting seductresses when they had nothing but a fishtail down there, but now, seeing a more accurate depiction, Jasper had to admit that the fishtail was better - nobody wanted to see that.