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"Oh," said Slip. "That would have been my third guess."

"Dwarf craft?" Taslin did not bother to hide her curiosity.

"One of the first Hizagkuur weapons ever crafted in the Northland, long before the rise of Cormanthyr, in the days when elves and dwarves traded freely," said Twilight. " 'Twas a commission-and not by me."

If they were expecting more from her lips, they did not get it.

Someone cleared a throat. "Who taught you to dance the shadows?" Davoren asked mildly. "You do it so well."

"Careful, Davoren," Twilight said.

"We have some moments before Gargan returns," the warlock said. "Perhaps it's time to introduce ourselves better. For instance-what means that star on your naked back, she-elf? Why is your sword so named? 'Betrayal' is so charming. And I believe I heard you muttering a name in your sleep-Neveren, was it?"

Stunned, Twilight opened her mouth, but Taslin gave Davoren a warning glare, her hand falling to her own sword hilt. "She will tell you when she wishes," she said. "If she wishes. I suggest you respect her privacy else."

The warlock looked at her hand and scoffed. "Drawing steel against an unarmed man?" he asked. "Surely your petty Colonal would frown on such a dishonorable act."

Davoren's pronunciation sounded closer to a human military rank than to Corellon Larethian himself, Lord of the Seldarine. The wizard had not even bothered to disguise his provocation. Twilight might've taken his words as an insult, but she hated this whole bloody band far too much.

Taslin, on the other hand, went almost as pale as Twilight- remarkable, considering her complexion, which glowed like the setting sun. "How dare-?" she started, letting the words trail off into indignant snarling.

Asson took Taslin gently by the arm, and his touch startled her out of her wrath. She put her hand over his and stared coldly at Davoren.

"Still your vocal cords," she said, "before I cut them out for you, mahri."

"I apologize," Davoren said. "Is my pronunciation incorrect? Such a difficult tongue." He looked at Twilight. "And on the subject of tongues, weren't you meant to cut hers out by now? I believe she just insulted me. Or perhaps"-his eyes glittered -"you were going to be more creative?"

Twilight slit her eyes. "Both of you," she said. "Silence."

"What a pity." Davoren smiled wryly and took a drink from his wineskin. Twilight noticed at that moment that the gouges on his face seemed, inexplicably, to have healed to half their former size.

Twilight bid silent thanks to Asson. The old man looked frail and weak, but he was proving his worth at tempering Taslin's furies.

While he lasted, of course.

Gargan returned in a short time. The goliath revealed, in curt sentences, that he had found evidence of bipedal, barefoot creatures, but he had seen none of the creatures themselves. His cave had doubled back into the rounded tunnel.

Slip eventually finished stuffing herself with Taslin's food and described her own discoveries. She claimed to have caught sight of gray hides scuttling into the shadows-but she admitted she may have been seeing things. Her cave had led to a network of caverns and passageways, which she had chosen not to explore. On her way back, she spotted a tunnel leading upward, perhaps two spearcasts into the cave and to the right. That seized Twilight's attention.

"We go," she said. "I want to find the way out of these sewers by nightfall."

"How would you know when night is?" asked Davoren. "I've seen no sun, and unless you can see through hundreds of paces of solid rock, neither have you."

"I have a sense of when the night is darkest," she said. "You acquire one when you steal for a living. And besides"-she added, lest she be tricked into talking about her past-"Taslin's Coronal grants spells at dawn, so she knows when the sun rises."

Taslin turned her chin up at Davoren.

The warlock shrugged. "I see," he said. He stood, flexing his skeletal fingers and cracking his joints with one hand. "I do not wish to sit here all 'day.' Let us go."

Twilight watched him carefully. She could feel eyes