Unnoticed by the others, Bam slips a hemp-wrapped hand beneath his hood and it pushes it back over his long, stringy hair.

Evie stares past Lariat and Mother Manai at the silent juggernaut of a man. Bam has the face of a sad hound, but his eyes are suddenly boring into her with a fiery light that she’s neither seen nor would expect from him. After a moment the other members of the Elder Company look back at Bam as well, and the surprise is evident on both of their faces. Evie opens her mouth to speak, but she’s unsure of what to say, or what his gaze is saying to her.

Fortunately, when the silence threatens to become unbearable, Bam raises his hood and lowers his face into its recesses once again. He strides forward, past his compatriots, and joins Evie and Brio. He stands beside her, hugging his huge arms around the haft of his mallet, seeming to wait.

“Well, that’s a new thing,” Lariat grumbles.

Mother Manai grins. “Fair enough, Sparrow, or whatever your name is. If Bam’s convinced, I won’t be the one to disband our company. And in truth, you’ve almost convinced me, as well.”

She looks up at Lariat, who sighs deep enough to bristle his mustache.

“We’d do better with the B’ors on our side” is all he says in the end. “Can you convince ’em the way you convinced Bam here, Little Sparrow?”

Brio leans in over Evie’s left shoulder. “You’re a better pleader than I’ve ever been, it seems,” he tells her quietly.

Evie drops her head, the grin that comes to her lips devoid of anything resembling joy.

“All right,” she says, lifting her chin to regard Lariat with a hard stare. “Take me to them.”

THE JEOPARDY ROOM

THE BELLS SUMMON DYEAWAN TO Sanitation on the third level. She’s been there dozens of times before, and aside from the smells she always finds it as fascinating as any level in the keep. It’s there that the Cadre tests different means of disposing and even utilizing waste, from rotting food to fallen leaves to filthy water to every resident’s supper from the night before. The last time she carried a message there they were working on a new kind of cistern that used a combination of potions to turn solid refuse into liquid waste so it could be more easily drained.

The assemblers hadn’t quite perfected the balance of potions yet, but just the idea of such a thing lit a fire inside Dyeawan’s head.