"Now," Myrin said, turning back to face the others, "if we're quite done throwing immature insults around, we have some planning to do." He paused and waited until he had everyone's attention before he turned to the Crow and continued. "First of all, do you have all the tools you need to pick the lock, sir?"

The Crow smiled humorlessly. "I'm sure I could pick the lock with a sewing pin if I had to," he said, pulling exactly such a pin from somewhere within his cloak. "But if I had my tools, it would undoubtedly be a lot easier. And take a lot less time."

"Well, Mr. Sir," Owen started with a chuckle, "where are your tools, then? Didya lose them somewhere?"

The Crow didn't seem to know whether to feel more distraught over being called "Mr. Sir" or over the accusation of misplacing his tools. "First of all," he growled, "I didn't lose anything; as you may have noticed, they searched me quite thoroughly and took... most of my equipment. And second of all..." He sighed exasperatedly. "If you absolutely have to talk to me—believe me, I'd prefer you wouldn't—then you could at least be respectful enough to call me by my name."

Owen smiled innocently. "Oh, I'm sorry, I don't think we've been introduced," he said, extending his hand with a flourish. "Owen Ulric Nerikas, at your service."

"Sorodath Havarin," the assassin replied, reluctantly shaking the half-elf's hand. "And the rest of you?"

"Damn," Vivi replied, "I punched you in the face and then never introduced myself. I'm sorry." She smirked and held out her hand. "Vivenne Blackwood."

"Indeed," Sorodath said dryly, shaking Vivi's hand as briefly as possible. "Pleased to make your acquaintance."

"And I'm Myrin Vaceran," Myrin said, leaving both hands by his side—to Sorodath's great relief. "And the little girl is called Morwen."

"How charming," Sorodath muttered. "When do you suppose we get started with this escape plan of yours... Mr. Myrin?"

"Hold your horses, emo boy," Vivi interrupted. "You're an assassin." She paused, biting her tongue to stop herself from saying what she was really thinking. He's a murderer. "We can't just trust you like that... not after what you did."

Sorodath gave Vivi a dark look and opened his mouth to reply, but Myrin quickly interjected. "I'm sure Mr. Sorodath is a man of his word," he said calmly. "And I'm sure none of us would find any issue with making a promise to work together."

The others reluctantly nodded their approval—except Morwen, who simply gave Myrin a defiant glare, which he ignored.

"Agreed," Sorodath said. "I'll get you to the safe house—you have my word on that. Once we're there... we'll have to reconsider our options."

Myrin nodded. "Very well. And now, to answer your earlier question: I assume we'll make our escape once our captors make landfall."

"That could take a while unless we're lucky," Vivi objected, "and I'm not sure I'm comfortable staying very long on this godforsaken ship. Especially since we don't know what they're planning to do with us."

The little girl laughed suddenly, the bright and airy sound of her voice standing in stark contrast to her dreary appearance. "We're pirates," she chuckled. "What do you think they're gonna do with us?"

"Indeed," Sorodath said grimly. "And I personally don't want to die hanging from a rope."

"Really?" Owen exclaimed. "I thought it was everyone's highest wish."

"The point I'm trying to make," Vivi stressed, "is that we should have more than one plan ready. Just in case." She turned to Sorodath. "You. You were on board the centaur's ship. If it comes to it, do you think we could sail it?"

"The Eirtharlausir?" Sorodath nodded. "Yes, we should be able to man it alone... from what I noticed on the way down here, I believe they're taking it in tow. If we can sneak aboard while it's dark... we could stand a chance of escaping that way."

Vivi nodded, satisfied with the response, but before she could say anything further Morwen burst out laughing again. "There you go again, you and your lofty plans." She shook her head. "They'll blow us all to kingdom come before we can even hoist sail. Just like the Ajdaha. And for that matter, what do you think happened to the Onyx? And everyone on board?"

A stunned silence fell on the room. Vivi struggled to find something—anything—to say in response, but the memories were still much too raw in her mind. She glanced up at Morwen furiously, expecting to see her gloating at the effect of her words, but she was simply staring intently at Vivi, her head tilted to one side.

Sorodath, however, wasn't impressed. He reached down and pulled something from a hidden compartment on the back of his boots, then walked over to stand in front of Morwen where she sat.

"You see this?" he growled, revealing a small throwing knife in his hand. In the next instant, he flicked his hand—too fast for the eye to follow—and the knife had lodged itself in the wall inches from Morwen's head. She flinched at the sudden movement, but her eyes remained defiant.

"Yeah, I see it," she calmly replied, glancing over at the knife, which was still quivering from the force of the impact. "What about it?"

"This knife has killed more men than you have ever even seen," Sorodath said. "But there's nothing comical about that. So let me make myself perfectly clear: if you have nothing more to contribute than laughing at the memory of the people that died today, just be quiet... or you might find yourself the next victim of that knife."

"Oh dear," Morwen replied dryly. "I'd be quivering in my boots if I had any." She rolled her eyes and got to her feet, taking a few steps away from the assassin and his knife. "But don't you worry. If you don't want my input, I'm not gonna give it—and I'll be more than happy to be rid of you if one of your brilliant plans ends up getting you all killed."

Vivi smiled sarcastically and sat down on the crate next to Owen. "I'm glad we all have mutual feelings for each other," she said, glaring at Morwen across the room. "It sure gives me great confidence in our ability to work together."

"I'm sure we'll get along just fine," Owen replied, waving his hands around ambiguously, "but I have a much bigger concern at the moment." He turned around to point an accusing finger at Sorodath. "Whatever happened to all your equipment being taken? Hm?"

Sorodath sighed and retrieved his knife, slipping it into the hidden pocket with what was clearly a well-practiced flourish. "I said most of my equipment," he said, a tone of exasperation in his voice. "I wouldn't be much of an assassin if I let them take all my knives."

Owen just squinted suspiciously at the assassin in response, and Vivi was about to ask how many more knives he was carrying, but all further conversation was cut short by a sound that caught everyone's attention: the sound of footsteps approaching outside the door.