The light from the shelter had faded, so Gyre pulled a glowstone from his pocket and shook it to life, the eerie blue glow lighting up the rock. As they rounded a long curve, another tiny pinprick of blue became visible in the distance. Gyre halted, raised his light, and moved it slowly back and forth. One, two, three, pause, one, two.

The other light wagged back. Gyre let out a breath and kept walking.

“Impressively paranoid,” Kit said.

“It keeps us alive,” Gyre muttered. “I hope you know what you’re getting into.”

“Your concern is touching.”

“I’d just hate to have to slit your throat, after all this effort,” Gyre said.

“I must be growing on you.” Kit grinned up at him, her features hideous in the blue glow.

The tunnel ended in a circular chamber about twenty meters across. Two other tunnels led off in different directions, but otherwise the junction was a featureless circle of ghoul-cut stone. They’d been meeting here long enough that they’d moved in a few sticks of furniture, a rough-cut table with biscuit crates and barrels for chairs, and a pair of lamps on tall iron stands. Not as comfortable as the Crystal Cavern, but for planning, it was better to have a little privacy.

Harrow was the one standing in the entrance with the glowlight, wearing leather armor with iron studs, his two-handed axe slung across his back with the handle poking up over his shoulder. He gave Gyre a grumpy nod and stared openly at Kit, who returned a sunny smile. Harrow turned and waved his light, and a moment later the lamps were lit, casting a weak radiance across the table that cut the pale green of the alchemical lights.

“About time,” said Ibb. “I was getting tired of sitting in the dark.” He wore his long leather coat and broad-brimmed hat, with a thin sword on one hip and a blaster pistol on the other. At the sight of Kit, he raised one delicate eyebrow. “Halfmask, you neglected to give us a full description of your guest. Most prospective clients aren’t so … appetizing.”

“Don’t take him too seriously,” Gyre said. “Ibb’s a family man. A husband in the merchant combines and two children.”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate beauty when I see it,” the mercenary said. He bowed. “Ibb of Gerentia, at your service.”

“Kit,” said Kit. “Charmed, I’m sure.”

“Halfmask,” Yora said, careful to use his title in front of a stranger. “Kit, welcome. I’m Yora. This is Harrow.” She gestured down at the pair sitting at the end of the table. “These two are Sarah and Nevin.”

Sarah gave a smile and a wave, cheerful as always. Nevin sat beside her, hunched over, long-fingered hands moving nervously over the stone table.

“Halfmask tells us you have a business proposition,” Yora said.