17

"Wow."

The comment came from me. Xander was now smothered in goo and, with a fresh change of expertly applied bandages, we, with Darda and Spiros, hurried our way to the front entrance. A steady stream of people flowed through the right-hand door and wound their way down the hall in the direction of the sanctum. They exited out the left-hand door.

While my companions joined the throngs that left the building, I paused and glanced back at the line that went inside. A soft tug inside me told me I envied them.

Darda looped her arms around mine and tugged me along. "Do not dawdle," she scolded me.

"I wasn't dawdling, I was only looking."

"You should not enter there again," she insisted.

A figure stepped out of the crowd and slunk their arm through my free one so that I was pinned between Darda and their body. "I don't think she knows what she's talking about." I whipped my head to my left and found myself staring into the bemused face of Tillit.

Darda leaned forward and glared at him. "Did anyone ask for your opinion?"

He thought for a moment before he shook his head. "Nope, but I still think you're overreacting. Fae don't hurt each other, especially when they're related."

"Perhaps the relation is too distant for them to care," she argued.

I winced. "Could you guys stop pulling before you don't have to share me?"

Darda released me. "I am sorry, Miriam, but this pig-" she glared at Tillit, "-is a bad influence."

He grinned and bowed his head. "Flattery will get you places, dear Darda."

I placed my palms on both their chests and pushed them apart. "All right, that's enough, you two. Let's catch up with everyone else."

Darda was sullen, and Tillit gleeful, as we slipped through the door and out into the bright fresh air of the early afternoon. A dry breeze swept over us and brought with it the sound of music and laughter. Our friends waited for us just outside the entrance.

Xander turned to Tillit. "We are now in need of your shop expertise."

Tillit grinned and bowed his head. "I thought you might, so I came by to see if you were done with the stiffs in there." He glanced at the hint of bandages that stuck out from beneath Xander's shirt. "Did something happen?"

"Some of those stiffs tried to give us an exciting time," I told him.

"We will tell you on the way down the hill," Xander offered.

Xander brought Tillit up to speed on our adventures as our group meandered our way down the busy highway that was the hill road. By the time we reached the bottom Xander was done and Tillit gave a whistle. "Sounds like someone wants you both out of the picture pretty bad. With service like that I'm glad I got myself a room in the town. If you ever run into that trouble again, feel free to drop by anytime. It's not much, but it is danger-free."

"In addition to the metal smiths and weapons dealers, could you lead us to the Red Dragon's priest?" Xander requested.

Tillit nodded. "Sure. He's not exactly hiding, but these streets are pretty hard to navigate."

We reached the mess of streets and went about the tedious task of inquiring at every metal smith and weapons dealer in town. For a peaceful town, there were a lot. Most were tucked into corner buildings in a small district far from the gate. Two of the walls of the shops opened to the streets. The fumes of smoke and cooked metal tickled our nostrils as Xander and Tillit slipped into the first of the shops.

The rest of us stood just outside the hot zone and watched. I could still hear the faint jingle of music and laughter down some hidden street.

"Excuse me, but we wish to inquire of the wares you make," Xander explained.

The shopkeeper, a burly man with a low brow, crossed his arms and glared at us. At his side was a young apprentice. "If you're not here to buy something, then get out."

"Would you be able to make this sort of blade?" Xander asked him as he removed the thief's weapon from his waist.

The shopkeeper narrowed his eyes. "And if I can?"

Tillit slipped around the hot irons and forge. His quick eyes gathered in all the hanging finished products. "I don't think this guy's our man."

The blacksmith whipped his head around and glared at the sus. "What are you saying?"

Tillit turned to him with a grin. "I'm saying you don't make what we're looking for."

The keeper balled his hands into fists at his sides and gritted his teeth. "Are you saying I'm not good enough to make it?"

The sus's eyes flashed and his grin slipped into a sly smile. "You know who makes them, don't you?"

He turned his face away and crossed his arms over his wide chest. "I'm not saying anything."

"Has a man by the name of Sinbad made inquiries?" Xander asked him.

The blacksmith dropped one hand onto a large, thick hammer that sat on his anvil. "Enough questions. Leave."

Tillit slid up to Xander's side and leaned toward him. "In case you missed it, that's our cue to leave." He looped his arm through Xander's and led him out of the smithy and back to our small group. "Perhaps Lady Fortune will smile on us at the next shop."

I slipped up beside Xander. His lips were pursed so hard the red stood out against his pale face. "You okay?" I whispered.

He nodded. "I am fine. It is merely this wound." He pressed his palm against his chest.

"Hopefully this won't take too long," I commented as I glanced over my shoulder. The shopkeeper whispered a few words into the ear of his shop boy, who raced off down a side street. I looked back to Xander. "That guy's-um, guy, just took off."

"I expected as much," Xander replied.

I arched an eyebrow. "Expected what?"

"That he would warn Sinbad about our inquiries."

I frowned. "Then why'd you bring up his name?"

Tillit looked over his shoulder and winked at me. "Because our lord here wants to make sure Sinbad comes to us, and not the other way around."

Darda pursed her lips. "That was a very reckless action to take, Xander. Secrecy would have been the more prudent approach."

Tillit laughed and clapped her on the back. "Don't be so doubtful about our ability to protect ourselves."

She steadied herself and turned up her nose at him. "You have shown very little in the ways of protecting anyone other than yourself."

He leaned toward her and winked. "Just give me the right opportunity and I'll show you what Tillit's made of."

Xander stopped and gazed straight ahead. "That time may have come."

We looked in the same direction and stiffened. The narrow street was surrounded on both sides by the walls of windowless, sun-dried clay homes. Between those walls stood a crowd of rough-looking men. At their head stood Sinbad.

His arms were crossed, as was his expression. "I was told you were asking questions about me," he told us.

Xander bowed his head. "I am glad to see that words still travel fast among the narrow streets of the city."

Sinbad dropped his arms to his side, and one of his hands landed on the hilt of a dagger that was tucked into his waistband. "You play a dangerous game, dragon lord."

Spiros lay his hand on the hilt of his own weapon. Xander stretched out his arm in front of his captain, but his eyes never left Sinbad. "What do you have to do with the thieves of the desert?"

One of the burly men, the horn blower, stepped forward and unsheathed his weapon. A grumble of disapproval arose from the other men. Sinbad held up his hand, and they were silenced.

A crooked grin slipped onto Sinbad's lips. "Who says I have anything to do with them?"

"A desert snake told us," Xander replied.

Sinbad chuckled. "Then the snake has a lot to answer for. As for you-"

The music that had kept to the background now came to the forefront as a parade rounded the corner behind us. The procession of brightly-colored festival-goers with their rattling tambourines and tooting horns flowed into our group. We pressed our backs against the sun-baked walls and watched the laughing, jostling people dance by. Many held up the small female figurines. Others clapped in time with the lively noise. A minority of the paraders walked in solemn columns with their hands clasped together and their eyes turned downward.

The noise and crowds filled the narrow alley with a disorienting mixture of gaiety and somberness. In the chaos Xander wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me close to him. It was because of that gesture that I was able to see Sinbad slip through the crowd and pause at Xander's side and in front of him.

He leaned toward Xander. "I will tell you everything I know, but only if you join the race tomorrow."

Xander frowned. "And if I refuse?"

Sinbad shrugged. "Then you know nothing. It is your choice, but I believe we both know what you will choose. See you tomorrow."

He stepped into the parade and disappeared in the thick mess of people. I was left with a sinking feeling in my chest.