“Survive long he would not, were he not,” Alberich replied, and fastened his hawklike eyes on Skif, who shrank back, just as he had that night. “I did. Because there was need. Think on this—had you by any other been caught, it would not have been Truth Spell, but a knife.”

Skif shivered convulsively, despite the baking heat. The man was right. He gulped.

Alberich took another couple of steps forward, so that Skif was forced to look up at him. “Now, since there is still need, without Truth Spell, what you were about in following that scum, you will tell me. And fully, you will tell it.”

There was something very important going on here; he didn’t have nearly enough information to know what, or why, but it was a lot more than just the fact that Jass had been killed, though that surely had a part in it. But Skif raised his chin, stiffened his spine, and glared back. “T’you. Not t’im. I know you. I don’ know ’im.”

The Heralds exchanged another glance. “Fair enough,” Teren said easily. “I’ll be outside when you’re ready for me to take him over.”

Herald Teren turned and strode out the door on the other side of the stable. Skif didn’t take his eyes off Alberich, whose gaze, if anything, became more penetrating.

“Heard you have, of the man Jass, and his ending.” It was a statement, not a question, but Skif nodded anyway. “And? You followed him for moons. Why?”

“‘E burned down th’ place where m’mates lived.” Skif made it a flat statement in return, and kept his face absolutely dead of expression. “They died. I heard ’im say ‘xactly that with m’own ears, an’ ’e didn’t care, all ‘e cared about was ’e didn’ want t’ get caught. Fact, ‘e said ’e got rid of some witnesses afore ’e set th’ fire. Might even’ve been them.”

Alberich nodded. “He was not nearly so free with me.”

Skif tightened his jaw. “Honest—I was in the cem’tery by accident, but I was where I could ‘ear real good. An’ I ’eard ‘im an’ th’ bastid what hired ’im talkin’ ‘bout a new job, an’ talkin’ ’bout the old one. I already figgered I was gonna take ‘im down somehow—but only after I foun’ out ’oo ‘twas what give ’im th’ order.”

A swift intake of breath was all the reaction that Alberich showed—and a very slight nod. “Which was why you followed him.” A pause. “He was more than that—more than just a petty arson maker, more even than a murderer. As his master was—is. Which was why I followed him.”

Skif only shook his head. Alberich’s concerns meant nothing to him—

—except—