Ty Ehsam had been certain from the get-go that his visit to the Crossroads would be a costly detour. Marko’s reputation preceded him, and Ty’s question had never been whether he would efficiently ascertain the location of the Keystone. Rather, he had merely wondered which particular pound of flesh the broker would extract in exchange. But the visit had still exceeded his expectations in a not so good way.
The job, Marko’s price, stank to the high mountain. Tip of some folk here–Bilgames or some such–biting it up at the edge of the Bloodwood. It sounded like bait. Marko knew it sounded like bait, but if Ty Ehsam got his head collected by some booby trap up north, that was hardly Marko’s problem, was it? Damn it.
And the boatman made it all so much worse. Who was Lan al’Ver? What was his interest in Ty? And what did Marko know about him that he wasn’t sharing? Near as Ty could tell, the man was no mage–mana didn’t cling to him the way it clung to the other two travelers on their journey north–but everything else about his behavior outright keened of magical fuckery. And the girl. The girl was certainly a mage, drenched in the Deepest magic Ty had ever seen, obviously up to no good, and even after making it clear they had nothing to do with each other, al’Ver stepped in for her. Ty was not easily persuaded toward murder, but his priors on Deep mages assured him the girl was very probably a cannibal, and even now, hours later, sipping wine in the relative safety of the inn, he could scarcely believe that al’Ver had vouched responsibility for the girl, volunteered her for the job. And Marko listened!
Ty hated it. Whatever was going on with this damn job–this damn town, even–everyone knew more than him, and it was going to get him killed, and he didn’t have any choice but to go along with it all because no matter what kind of gruesome death was waiting for him in the Bloodwood, failing to deliver on his promise to the Blaze would be worse. He’d backed himself into a corner, and he hated it.
He gulped the rest of his wine, setting down his cup just in time for another patron to pull up a seat at his table. He glanced over, guarded and irritable, to see the shapeshifter who had traveled up the river with him and al’Ver.
“Greetings. Marko mentioned you were looking for muscle.” Ty stared him down for a moment, though he seemed not at all put off by the suspicion.
“Yeah,” Ty replied. “He mention anything else?” The shapeshifter shrugged.
“Scavenging near the Bloodwood’s all he said. You have more details?”
“Yeah. Some mage died,” Ty said. “Got an approximate location and a warning we should expect other scavs.” The shapeshifter frowned.
“That…sounds like bait,” he said after a moment. Ty couldn’t help but snort. It was a dark sort of funny, sure, but it was a relief too. Finally, someone else who saw the insanity in all of it.
“It sure does,” he admitted. “Marko’s got something I want, though. This is what he wants in return.”
“You have yourself in a bind then.” The shapeshifter smiled as he spoke and finally sat down. He offered his hand. “Bleeding Wolf.”
“Ty Ehsam,” Ty replied, tepidly shaking it.
“Well, Ty, it it’s a trap, there’s a good chance bringing me along could save your life. I’m pretty familiar with the area.” Ty nodded. He’d figured: Every shapeshifter he’d ever heard of had ties to the Bloodwood.
“I’d still want to know why you’re so eager to run into a trap.” Bleeding Wolf shrugged.
“I understand Marko’s paying for time even if we don’t find anything.”
“Enough for a risk like that?” This prompted a laugh. The shapeshifter’s canines were uncomfortably prominent.
“You got me,” he conceded. “There’s actually a point of curiosity in this for me. To which end, I’m asking an additional fee.”
“‘Fraid I don’t have much to offer you.”
“You can tell me what it is you want from Marko, and I’m yours.”
Ty grimaced. He didn’t want anyone else stuck in his miserable business, but…fine. This one wanted in, and he could really use the help. And, he had to admit, it was some comfort that he at least knew something the shapeshifter didn’t.
“Okay,” he replied. “When the job is done, I’ll tell you. You might wish I hadn’t, though.” Bleeding Wolf shook his head, cracking his neck at the end of the gesture.
“I wouldn’t worry,” he said. “Wouldn’t be the first thing I’ve learned that I shouldn’t’ve. So I’m in. Tell me more about our dead mage. Any idea who it was?” Ty swirled the dregs of his wine.
“No. Marko gave me the name ‘Bilgames’, but I’ve never heard of ‘em.” He looked up to see Bleeding Wolf staring, aghast.
“Are you sure that was the name?” the shapeshifter asked.
Ty nodded, alarm creeping once again out of the pit in his stomach. Bleeding Wolf stood up and nearly ran to the door.
“Get up!” he called back to Ty, still sitting bewildered at his table. “We need to find al’Ver and get out of here, or every scav and False God in the Riverlands will have beaten us there by morning!”