He had along the way considered his chance meeting with Sandreena. Dressed as a court noble, he was unrecognizable to her, but covered in dirt with three days’ growth of beard, he ran the risk that she might remember him as the Mocker who had sold her into slavery years before. He was relieved he hadn’t been forced to take valuable time out to avoid being killed as he explained to her his role in all the things in her life that she’d most like to forget. Instead he considered himself lucky to now be surrounded by those loyal to him and the Crown, who would ensure he reached his destination safely.

Like Amed, these were among those few men Jim would trust with his life, and they would follow him to the lower hells. And given what he had seen over the last month, that very likely was their final destination.

Overhead a nasty squall was finally leaving the small ship behind, as it moved eastward toward the distant city of Krondor. The storm seemed to come in waves, and they had endured four days in a row of bad weather. Jim ignored the drenching he had received on deck, waiting to get in close enough to the island to disembark.

In the distance, through the gloom, Jim made out the looming dark castle on the bluffs overlooking the lone approachable cove on Sorcerer’s Isle. As it had since the first time he had seen it, the sight of the structure filled Jim with a vague foreboding. He knew from experience this was a very subtle magic employed by Pug, the Black Sorcerer, and that it would pass once he entered the premises. He did note that the magically induced evil blue light in the north-most tower was absent, now replaced by a relatively benign-looking yellow glow, as if a stout fire burned inside.

Jim waited until Captain Jenson, master of the ship, gave orders to reef sails and drop anchor before he indicated he was ready to go ashore. He was now dressed in a simple, utilitarian fashion: woolen tunic and trousers, broad belt with sword and knife, high boots, and a large flop hat—all well made despite the simple look. He entered the longboat as it was lowered over the side, and waited until the first breakers drove it into the shallows to jump out. He was already soaked to his smallclothes, so waiting for the men to pull the boat ashore seemed to serve little purpose.

He was impatient to talk to Pug and his advisors, especially the Demon Master, Amirantha, and, he hoped, unburden himself with his intelligence; he wanted this to be someone else’s problem. He had Keshian spies to catch, competing criminal gangs to crush, and a court life that was going neglected far too long.