It was easy for Xigbar to retrieve his armband after he and Kaleb escaped. Once they were clear of the building, Kaleb was more than accommodating to Xigbar's pace, which he kept slow with only slightly exaggerated shows of pain. He really was going to need some healing later.

In only a few minutes, the animated snake slithered through the streets to meet up with him, and he let it discreetly crawl up his arm and settle back into place on his bicep. He'd been sure to time it when Kaleb was double checking behind them to see if their pursuers were close.

After a bit of evasive maneuvers to shake the pursuit that had been mounted against them, Kaleb and Xigbar took refuge in the place Kaleb had been staying since his arrival in Lochmire Keep—the attic of a church.

Getting in was a bit of an embarrassing struggle for Xigbar. Like everything else he did right now, it hurt a lot more than it should have, and he wasn't sure he'd have managed without Kaleb's help.

But he was free again.

"We should be safe here," Kaleb said. "Most of the priests here are old enough that they avoid stairs whenever they can, so nobody ever comes up here. Good sight lines on all the roads approaches, and the lavatories connect directly to the city sewers if we need an alternate exit."

Xigbar's estimation of his rescuer went up. After watching him more or less batter his way through the peacekeepers with the subtlety of a boulder, he'd been worried he was working with another Arty.

He found a stack of empty crates that made for a half decent chair, and sat down for the first comfortable rest he'd had since getting arrested.

"So. What now?"

Kaleb took one last look out the attic windows to make sure everything was clear before sitting down himself.

"We should talk," he said. "You know. Now that we're out of active danger. Unless you need rest?"

Xigbar raised an eyebrow. He hadn't been treated kindly during his stint in the jail, but of the two of them, Kaleb had done most of the work getting them out, and taken most of the punishment for it. If anyone needed rest, it would have been him, but if he was still moving like he could have done the whole thing again.

"We can talk."

"Good." Kaleb nodded. He stared into space, as if preparing to speak, and then nodded again. "Good."

He found his own place to sit, on top of a cracked water basin someone was no doubt going to repair any day now.

"So. Did you really break into the Chosen's keep?"

"That depends who's asking."

"My name is . . . Kaleb." He paused. This was the second time since coming to Xykesh he'd given his name to a stranger, which he the sect would frown on, but he didn't have much of a choice. He didn't have a code name yet, and he was a terrible liar. "I might need to break in myself soon, and I need to know everything I can about the keep's security."

"You don't say," Xigbar said. "Now why would you want to do that?"

"I . . ."

Kaleb was shifting uncomfortably in his makeshift seat, not making much eye contact. Nervous. Self-conscious. Uncertain. It was such an odd contrast to the person Xigbar had seen back in the jail, driving through peacekeepers like a human battering ram. The curious part of Xigbar wondered what this guy's deal was, but the opportunist in him was just glad his mark wasn't paying close attention to him.

Xigbar shifted to keep his armband out of sight as it came to life and slithered down his arm and onto the floor.

"I'm looking for someone," Kaleb said. "Everything we've learned so far says they work for the Chosen, which means the keep could end up being the place we find them."

Xigbar grimaced. Kaleb's eyes constantly drifting to the floor had been useful to get his armband moving without being noticed, but if the animated snake was going to get close enough to strike, he needed to get Kaleb's eyes up.

Fortunately, he'd been given an opening.

"Who's we?" Xigbar asked.

Sure enough, Kaleb sat bolt upright, mortified. "I—uh, nobody. I was . . . using the royal we?"

Xigbar blinked, and a brief pang of guilt speared through his chest. Everything indicated Kaleb was carrying a small treasure trove in those enchanted pockets of his, but the boy was just so . . . innocent. It actually felt a little wrong stealing from him. If Xigbar hadn't been in need of an actual score to get him back on his feet, he might not have gone through with his plan out of sheer pity.

But he did need a score to get back on his feet. He'd lost all his stuff twice now, and once Larian didn't get to see him hang, the Pavers would be back to hunting him. He couldn't afford to turn down an opportunity like the one in front of him.

So he mentally willed the armband to bite Kaleb on the leg.

The snake let out a hiss as it snapped forward with fangs bare, and Kaleb looked down in surprise. The snake made contact—and one of its fangs snapped in half. The snake recoiled in pain, transforming back into a jade armband that rolled across the floor before slowly rattling to a stop.

Kaleb looked from the armband to Xigbar.

"Did you just have your snake try to bite me?"

Xigbar drew a knife he'd stolen on the way here, and lunged.

Kaleb reacted. He didn't move as fast as Xigbar, but the animaborn's movements had been clumsy, hindered by his injuries and the distance he had to cover. In contrast, Kaleb was deliberate and precise. His hand caught Xigbar's wrist, and it was like being bashed with a rock.

Xigbar's knife was knocked from his hand, and in one fluid motion, Kaleb batted it out of the air, grabbed Xigbar by the throat, and shoved him hard against a wall.

Instantly, Xigbar was reminded of the Chosen's enforcer that he'd faced in the rooftop garden. A grip like stone, and strength that hit like a sack of rocks. Kaleb wasn't as strong as the enforcer had been though, and Xigbar was able to break his grip by bringing up his legs and kicking out as hard as he could while twisting his body.

Kaleb followed his movements, catching his wrist again, spinning him around, and shoving him back against the wall while pinning Xigbar's arm behind his back.

"What are you doing?" Kaleb asked, more incredulous than angry.

"Robbing you," Xigbar muttered, his face crushed between Kaleb's elbow and the wall.

"Well stop it. I want to work with you, not fight you."

“Yeah, I tried the whole playing nice with others thing,” Xigbar said, still trying to wriggle out of Kaleb’s grip. “They’re trying to kill me now.”

It was Kaleb’s turn to be confused. “What?”

Xigbar pressed himself harder against the wall to give him just a bit of slack, and used that duck and twist, getting his arm out from behind him and windmilling to break Kaleb's grip.

Kaleb immediately kicked one of his legs out from underneath him and then drove him to the ground, pinning him for a third time.

"Who's trying to kill you?" Kaleb asked.

Xigbar squirmed. Kaleb had a knee on his leg, a foot on his right arm, and a vice grip on his left. He felt heavier than a person his size should, like he was anchored to the ground. Not to mention he was just faring better in these close quarters, countering his moves as fast as he could make them.

Since robbing the guy was clearly out of the question, and fighting wasn't working out much better, Xigbar finally decided to try talking. If nothing else, it would buy him some time to think of a new approach.

"The Pavers," Xigbar said. "One of them set me up to take the fall for the job we pulled on the keep, and I've been going at it with them ever since."

"Going at it?"

"You know. They put a price on my head, I steal from them, they try to kill me, I kill some of them. I get tossed in jail because of a death wizard, they ask the Chosen to make sure I hang," Xigbar said. "It's a very elaborate dance."

"If you don't mind me saying so, it kind of sounds like you're losing."

"I do mind, actually."

Kaleb seemed to remember he was still pinning Xigbar to the floor, because he abruptly released him and stood up. Xigbar considered using that window to go on the attack again, but gave up on the idea just as quickly. He was tired. His ribs still hurt. And Kaleb had proven to both their satisfaction that he was more than capable of fending Xigbar off.

Kaleb noticed that Xigbar didn't resume the fight, and took that as a good sign.

"I'll make you a deal," he said. "You help me prepare to break into the Chosen's keep, and I'll help keep you safe from the Pavers."

Xigbar laughed from the floor. "How the fuck are you going to protect me from the Pavers."

"I have a . . . partner," Kaleb said, bending the truth about his relationship with Al-Sakr slightly to make himself sound more important. "The two of us have spent most of the last few months in our own fight with them. I've got a lot of practice going up against them. You won't even be the first person I've protected from them."

Kaleb held out a hand to him, and Xigbar stared up at it.

"Bullshit," Xigbar said. "I was with the Pavers in Shadefall for months. I haven't heard shit about you."

"We haven't left too many witnesses," Kaleb admitted, sounding embarrassed. When it was clear from his expression that Xigbar still didn't believe him, Kaleb sighed. He tried to project as much sincerity into his voice as he could. "I mean it. If the Pavers are after you, I can help you get away from them. Or even fight them."

"I can't tell if you're setting me up for something, or just crazy."

"I'm not setting you up," Kaleb said.

"So you're crazy then."

Kaleb shrugged. "I don't think so."

Xigbar stared for a few more seconds. Kaleb was too earnest. Or incredibly skilled at pretending to be too earnest. It was too hard to trust someone he wasn't sure he could kill if it came to it, because that was usually his go to safety net in these kinds of arrangements.

Then again, he'd been confident he could have killed Arty whenever he wanted, and in the end, that hadn't protected him any.

And if Kaleb really had been antagonizing the Pavers, then he was going to be fighting them regardless of whether or not Xigbar was around. By all accounts, he was having a better time of it than Xigbar was.

He remembered his last fight, with Emerald, Soris, and the posse they'd brought. He'd been alone. If he'd had help that night, maybe he wouldn't have gotten caught.

This was, again, assuming Kaleb wasn't so good at lying that he managed to come across as a terrible liar with nothing to hide, and that this wasn't some elaborate trap.

But at this point, Xigbar wasn't sure what he had to lose by rolling that particular die. It wasn't as if his prospects for the future could get worse.

"Fine," Xigbar said, taking the hand Kaleb offered. "I guess I'm in."

Kaleb beamed, eager to get started. They had a lot of work to do if he was going to be ready with a plan and options by the time Al-Sakr came back.

Larian was waiting on a bench in the largest park in Lochmire Keep, a lone gaslamp his only refuge from the darkness and fog of the evening, when a dead body dropped from the tree branches overhead, landing with a crunch at his feet. He jolted upright, swearing profusely.

"I told you that we were meeting to discuss terms," a deep voice called out

Al-Sakr stepped out from the fog, wiping blood off of a curved dagger with a red handkerchief. He looked down at the corpse in distaste. "I don't appreciate you trying to lay a trap for me."

Larian's heart pounded furiously. He recognized the corpse—it was one of the small army of reinforcements he'd brought to this meeting. If none of the others were reacting to Al-Sakr's entrance . . .

The crimelord forced himself to swallow his fear, keeping it off of his face. He could do nothing about his erratic heartbeat, or the cold sweat that now ran down his back like a river. Months. This man had been terrorizing his operations for months. Nothing stopped him. Nothing even seemed to slow him down. Larian hadn't even gotten a good description of him from the few people that had survived encounters.

Until a sole survivor of an ambush had delivered a message, requesting a meeting "to end hostilities."

Of course he'd brought back up to try and kill the bastard. But now, that was beginning to feel like a mistake.

"Insurance policy," Larian said. "You've killed a lot of my men."

"So you thought more of them could protect you from me?" Al-Sakr asked. "If I wanted you dead, I would have killed you."

"I'm starting to see that," Larian admitted. "You've made your point. What do you want?"

"The Chosen has an enforcer who I have come to kill," Al-Sakr said. "Garem Westmin."

Larian nodded. "I've heard of him. Helped Zaman take over from the last Chosen. Closest thing he has to a right hand. What do you want with him?"

"He has betrayed the organization that I serve. For that, his life is forfeit," Al-Sakr said.

"And you chased him all the way here for that?" Larian asked. "I hope you like it here, because once you finish up with him, you're stuck here. Nobody leaves Xykesh."

"I'm aware," Al-Sakr said. "But no one escapes the Whispered Harvest."

At that moment, a second figure emerged from the fog behind Al-Sakr, their footsteps completely silent. The figure was tall and lithe, like a predatory cat, clad in dark brown leathers. Before Al-Sakr registered their presence, the figure had a hand around his throat.

Garem Westmin tightened his grip on the windpipe of his hunter as the man struggled. Al-Sakr had been quite thorough in his search of the perimeter before making his approach. He was a skilled agent of the Whispered Harvest. Unfortunately for him, Garem was better.

"We'll see about that."