A murmur arose from the crowd, echoing the commander’s words. “Thank you,” he said with a small bow. “We won’t take up any more of your time. But my soldiers and I will enjoy some of Seer’s unrivaled hospitality!” With that, the soldiers dispersed in smaller groups, most of them finding their way into one of the numerous taverns and watering holes that lined the sides of the square.

Soon, the villagers resumed their business, once more filling the empty space in the center of the square that had been vacated. Like with the falling dead man, it was almost as though nothing had happened at all. Either the people of Seer were a remarkably resilient bunch, or they’d simply become desensitized to bad news.

Whatever the case, Saman Ji snatched a sheet of parchment from the air as it fluttered toward her, dropped by some wayward hand. The old woman’s reflexes would’ve rivalled those of a cat in its prime. While Soraya and Shim looked over her shoulders, she studied the crude drawing with pursed lips. The man was portrayed by the artist with a fierce look on his face, his eyes shadowed. His lips were open slightly to reveal bared teeth. His cheeks and chin were heavily bearded, his hair long, twisted into vinelike braids that fell around his shoulders. His skin was as dark as the black patches on Shim’s skin, the way her partner had described the Wastelanders’ complexion to her. “The bastard,” Ji spat, spittle splattering the page. “Nearly burned Seer to the ground twenny years ago.”

“This man was here?” Soraya asked with wide eyes.

“Ye mean the Fire Eater? Yer young, so he was before yer time, but I’m still surprised no one has told ye about him.” She offered Shim a pointed look. “But mebbe it’s fer the best. Will only give ye nightmares. Hope they catch him. Or better yet, hope he flees these lands ferever. Would be the smart thing fer him to do anyway. Every eye in Finfalla will be on the lookout fer him.” She crumpled up the paper and then it was gone, vanishing like a magic trick into one of her hidden places beneath the folds of her clothes. “Now, what was it ye were sayin’ about the ‘powerful people’ who are so interested in Seer’s recent run of ‘bad luck’?”

Soraya swallowed, refocusing on the real reason they were here, talking to this ornery old woman. “They wish to remain anonymous. But they also wish to help. Unfortunately, all we have so far are rumors and gossip to the point we don’t know who to trust anymore. But you’re a long-standing citizen of this city. You’re clever. You’re observant. You’ve seen things, haven’t you? If you tell us, we’ll make it worth your while.”