“My point is, legal ownership never transferred. Technically, this place has always been mine. Now that Deadfall is dead, there’s nothing to stop me from picking up where I left off.”

“Actually,” McGill said, “there’s plenty to stop you. We don’t want you back, Vaurien.”

Scapegrace blinked. “What do you mean? Roarhaven is my home.”

“It was your home. But even back then, we didn’t want you here.”

“I have close ties to the community.”

“You owe me money.”

“That’s one of my ties.”

“It’s not a lot of money, though. It certainly isn’t enough for me to let you stay while you repay me.”

“I’ve done great things for this town!” Scapegrace protested. “I was here when it all started! I brought the Torment in, for God’s sake! Taciturn, please. I’ve got nowhere else to go. Look at me. I’m a zombie.”

“We don’t like zombies here.”

“You don’t like anything here! I’m looking for a cure. I think Doctor Nye can cure me. It works at the Sanctuary—”

“I know who Doctor Nye is.”

“It can help me, McGill. Once I’m human again, I’ll leave. I will. You’ll never see me again. But for now, let me stay. Let me have my bar back. I won’t cause any trouble, I promise. I know that if you say it’s OK, then everyone else will say it’s OK too.”

“That’s not how things work.”

“What are you talking about? Of course it is.”

“Not any more. There are things you don’t know about, Vaurien.”

“What things? The people of this town will still do what you tell them, right?”

“The Torment changed all that. He started talking, himself and his friends. They started telling people about their big ideas… You think it’s an accident the Sanctuary was relocated here? You think that wasn’t part of their plan?”

“Part of whose plan?”

McGill sighed. “Listen, Vaurien, I’ve known you a long time.”

“We’re friends.”

“We’re not friends, but I’ve still known you a long time. If you stay here for a few weeks, I don’t think anyone will object too loudly.”

“Thank you, Taciturn. And I swear, we’ll only be here a few months. A year, tops.”

“Weeks, Vaurien.”

“Right. Yes.”

“Try not to annoy anyone, and try to, y’know, stay away from people. Nobody likes zombies.”

Scapegrace chuckled. “I know the feeling.”

“You are a zombie.”

“Yes, but I was talking about Thrasher.”

“Who’s Thrasher?”

Thrasher sat forward. “Hello.”

McGill jerked away. “Ahh! How’d he do that? I didn’t even see him there! Is he some kind of ninja?”

“No,” Scapegrace said sadly. “He just fades into the background really well. You have my word, McGill, we will not get into trouble. Thank you.”

“Yeah,” McGill said, and stood up. “Don’t make me regret this.”