“Raskos has acquired an item from the deep tunnels,” Kit said. “He’s currently negotiating to sell it, but he doesn’t have the faintest idea what it is he’s got. I want you to take it from him.”

“That’s it?” Gyre’s frown deepened.

“Don’t make it sound so easy. The item is locked in a stasis web, so we’re going to have to acquire a destabilizer to open it. Then we need to get the thing itself.” She shrugged. “Most of the mercenaries and scavengers in Deepfire won’t go up against the dux, not directly. But I knew there was at least one group willing to take him on. You and your crew are a little bit infamous, Halfmask.”

“It’s not my crew. And for fifty thousand thalers, I imagine most mercenaries would overcome their reservations,” Gyre said.

“Maybe. But they’re not the best. You are.”

There was a long moment of silence. Gyre looked into her too-wide pupils, and she stared steadily back at him. In the distance, the lights of the city twinkled, and the red glow of the Pit reflected faintly off the low clouds.

“No,” Gyre said.

“No what?”

“No, I’m not doing it.” He shook his head. “The whole thing stinks. For all I know, you’re working for the dux and this is a setup.”

“If I was trying to trap you, I could have done it back at the Smoking Wreckage,” Kit said.

“Still too risky,” Gyre said. “I don’t need the money, and there’s other ways I can get to Raskos.” That wasn’t true, of course, but …

“Then why come to meet with me at all?” Kit said. She leaned closer. “Why come a second time, hmm? Just my personal charm at work?”

“Curiosity.”

“Birdshit.” She smiled delightedly. “I was right. It’s the Tomb you want, isn’t it?”

“I thought we’d established you’d never been there.”

“I didn’t say that.” Kit straightened up. “So what would it take, Halfmask? You want an artifact from the last city of the ghouls? Something no one has ever seen before?”

She’s lying. She’s been lying to me all along. But Gyre couldn’t keep his pulse from racing.

“I want you to take me there,” he said.

“Oh.” Kit blinked. “Is that all?”

“That’s all.”

“You have no idea what you’re asking for,” she said. “Didn’t they tell you no one ever comes back from the Tomb?”

“You did. If you’re telling the truth.”

“The truth is … complicated. But that complexity doesn’t apply to you, I can tell you that much.”

“Nevertheless. That’s what I want.”

Kit rocked back and forth on her heels, lost in thought. “You’re serious.”

“I am.”

“And they call me Doomseeker.” She sighed. “If that’s what you want, I’m not going to stop you. Just don’t blame me afterward.”