“Er, right,” Gillen said. He plunged on, compelled to make his case. “I’m wasted here, my lord. Send me back to the city, and I’ll find the boy, I swear. I know the streets, and I know the gangs that run ’em. Alister’s bound to turn up in Ragmarket sooner or later, even though his mam and sister claimed he hadn’t been around there for weeks.”

Young Bayar’s eyes narrowed and he leaned forward, fists clenched. “His mother and sister? Alister has a mother and sister? Are they still in Fellsmarch?”

Gillen grinned. “They’re burnt up, I reckon. We torched their place with them shut up inside.”

“You killed them?” Young Bayar stared at him. “They’re dead?”

Gillen licked his lips, unsure where he’d gone wrong. “Well, I figured that’d show ever’body else they’d better tell the truth when Mac Gillen asks questions.”

“You are an idiot!” Bayar shook his head slowly, his eyes fixed on Gillen’s face. “We could have used Alister’s mother and sister to lure him out of hiding. We could have offered a trade for the amulet.” He closed his fist on thin air. “We could have had him.”

Bones, Gillen thought. He never could say the right thing to a wizard. “You might think so, but believe me, streetlord like Alister, his heart’s cold as the Dyrnnewater. Think he cares what happens to his mam and sis? Nope. He cares about nobody but hisself.”

Young Bayar dismissed this with a wave of his hand. “We’ll never know now, will we? In any event, my father has no need of your services in hunting Alister. He has assigned others to that task. They’ve succeeded in cleaning the street gangs out of the city, but they’ve had no luck finding Alister. We have reason to think he’s left Fellsmarch.”

The boy rubbed his forehead with the heel of his hand, as though he had a headache. “However. Should you ever cross paths with Alister, by accident or otherwise, my father desires that he be brought to him alive and intact, with the amulet. If you could manage that, you would, of course, be richly rewarded.” Young Bayar tried to look indifferent, but the tightness around his eyes told a different story.

The boy hates Alister, Gillen thought. Was it because Alister tried to kill his father? Anyway, Gillen could tell that there was no use pressing the matter of his return to Fellsmarch. “A’right, then,” he said, struggling to hide his disappointment. “So. What brings you to Westgate? You said you had a message for me.”

“A delicate matter, Lieutenant. One that will require discretion.” The boy made it clear he doubted Gillen had any discretion. Whatever that was.

“Absolutely, my lord, you can count on me,” Gillen said eagerly.

“Had you heard that the Princess Raisa is missing?” Bayar said abruptly.