Truss just barely managed to raise his sword in time to block Hil’sari’s blow. Her blade slid along the steel edge of his weapon, sending sparks flying all around the two combatants, and then she was jumping away from him, out of range of his counterattack, moving as swiftly as the wind.

A small knife appeared in her free hand, and she spun as she threw it, sending the little weapon soaring past Truss. He heard Urahk cry out in pain and alarm behind him.

“Go and get the captain!” Seahawk barked to the orc. “Go, Urahk! Now!”

Hil’sari deftly dodged a sword swing from Tress and grinned as her eyes tracked the orc. Truss could feel impending disaster—the assassin was gathering her Chaos Magic.

Then a stream of water hit her in the face.

Seahawk was holding out her palm, the source of the water, while Urahk retreated. “She needs to see something to use her magic on it!” Seahawk bellowed.

Truss nodded. That made sense. The key to victory here would be to keep Hil’sari distracted, do everything they could to blind her, and hope that that would be enough to prevent her from magically jinxing them all.

But the assassin was one step ahead of them. Spinning away from Tress’ sword and Seahawks waterjet, she spun a veil of shadows over her face, hiding her eyes and, more importantly, any indication of what or who she was looking at. With this done, Hil’sari dove back into the fray, skirting around Tress and coming straight for Truss once more.

He took a step back and parried her sword, before stumbling out of the way as a dagger materialized in her off-hand and was thrust at him. Again, she was dancing away from him before he could counter her attack, but this time Truss had taken this trick into account.

Lightning arced off the blade as he swung his sword. The bolt shot out at Hil’sari and she was suddenly on the ground, just below it. Instead of her, the lightning struck the crates behind her, the ones she had initially hidden herself behind, and they exploded in a shower of splinters, sending pewter bottles clinking down onto the deck below.

“Oooooooh no!” Hil’sari’s voice mocked. “Best watch where you’re aiming that thing!”

Seahawk was upon her in an instant, sword raining down on the professional killer. Hil’sari rolled away, and a bottle rolled under Seahawk’s foot, and the big woman lost her balance and fell onto her back. Hil’sari leapt to her feet and moved to take advantage, but Tress was suddenly there in front of her, swinging her own sword.

Hil’sari jumped backward, away from Tress and her attack… and instead backed right into the real Tress, waiting behind her.

“Illusion, bitch!” Tress shouted, and she drove her sword into Hil’sari’s back.

The elf twisted her body around just in time to avoid being impaled, though the weapon still cut its way through her clothes and across her side. Bright red blood fell from the new wound and, cursing, Hil’sari backed away, toward the destroyed crates.

“You’re adaptable, I’ll give you that,” the elf said. “And the three of you do work well together… What do you say we work out a deal? After all, I’m only here on business. There’s no reason to make this all personal, is there?”

“You stabbed me!” Tress shouted.

“Well…” Hil’sari gestured to her bleeding side. “I guess we’re even now.”

She’s worried, thought Truss. She knows that she’d outmatched, that she can’t take on all three of us at once and win. So she’s looking for an escape; a safe way out of this.

“Will you give up who’s paying the bounties?” he asked.

Hil’sari cocked her head slightly, and though her face was still hidden by that shadow-veil, it was easy to guess that she was looking at him in disbelief. “That would be unprofessional.”

“Unprofessional, my ass!” Tress spat. “People are dead!”

“Yes,” agreed Hil’sari. “Because I was paid to kill them. The three of you are all adventurers, aren’t you? Have you never taken a job to kill a bunch of bandits?”

“That’s not the same,” Truss told her. “Bandits will cause problems and kill more people if left unchecked.”

“Which is why you get clients willing to pay for them to die,” said Hil’sari. “But the motive doesn’t really matter, does it? At the end of the day, if somebody wants someone else dead, he comes to people like us. Killers for hire, you know? When you get right down to it, you and me are really in the same line of work.”

“By the Bright Queen, just shut up, will you!?” Tress charged forward, and suddenly there were three of her, all rushing at Hil’sari at once. The elf stepped back and started kicking the bottles on the floor forward, and the real Tress stumbled and fell as one rolled under her feet.

Hil’sari was on top of her immediately.

“NO!” Truss leaped at Hil’sari, swinging his sword and sending forth an arc of lightning. The elf twisted away, parried his blade, and kicked him hard as he flew past her.

Truss collided with the remains of the crate-wall, pewter bottles digging painfully into his skin. He groaned and tried to stand, but stopped halfway through and stared at what was behind the wreckage with mounting horror.

It looked like a box, wrapped in papers, slick with oil. Black powder covered it, lay about the floor all around it.

The sound of steel clashing on steel reached his ears. Head swimming, Truss pushed himself to his feet and stumbled forward, away from the destroyed crates and the package and the black powder.

“We need to be careful!” Truss shouted. He saw Hil’sari duck under Seahawk’s swing, saw her pirouette away from Tress’ sword. “She’s planted an explosive!”

“What?” Tress shouted back.

But suddenly Hil’sari was beside Truss, holding one of the lanterns they’d brought down into the hold. “Too late,” she said. She stabbed at him, and it was all Truss could do to throw himself forward and out of the way. He felt a hot stinging cut across his back, and then he was on the ground, looking back at Hil’sari as she tossed the lantern behind her.

The glass shattered. Fire burst forth, caught the black powder, reached the paper-wrapped package.

And with a thunderous booming, the bow of the Menelen was blown open.