Trespassing on the grounds of a sorcerer was reckoned a kind of self-slaughter. There was no telling what dread curse Hazoth might levy on a trespasser. He might turn your guts to water or make your eyes burst in their sockets with a simple wave of his hand. No doctor could heal that kind of injury, nor would any touch you for fear of suffering a like fate.

No, only a fool would bother Hazoth in his own home.

Even without the threat of magic, Malden had eyes in his head to see that there were armed guards patrolling the garden behind the house. They went with shining lanterns around the corners of the stables and the kitchens, looking for anyone who dared to slip through that fence.

Malden would never have approached the place in a hundred years—had he not had legitimate business there. His investigations told him this was where Bikker was to be found, and likely Cythera as well.

So he assumed that Hazoth had to be his ultimate employer. It must have been Hazoth’s orders that sent Cythera and Bikker after the crown. What in the Bloodgod’s name could a sorcerer want with it, though? Clearly it was enchanted—normal crowns didn’t talk to people. Perhaps, Malden thought, the wizard merely wanted to study the magics imbued in the simple coronet of gold. Most likely he would never know the true answer. The motivations of Hazoth’s kind would always be mysterious to the uninitiated.

The main result of Malden’s discovery was to make him all the more eager to be quit of the thing. Hand it over, collect his pay, never think of it again. It seemed the only proper course.

Of course, it would have to be done with care. Hazoth had sought to escape scrutiny, hiding his complicity in the crown’s theft behind a double layer of employees. He would not take kindly to even his own hired thief walking up to his gate with the crown in hand, not now.

Malden made his way along the wall until he was directly over the darkest part of the common. As he had expected, it was not completely deserted. A boy in a dark-colored cloak was crouched in some bushes just below the wall. He had a cudgel on the ground next to his right hand and a sloshing jug clutched close to his chest. He also had a scarf wrapped around the lower half of his face, which was a bit of a giveaway.