“It's worth a try,” he said at last, adjusting the scabbard at his side. He tied the horses to a scraggly pine and looked to the sky before he beckoned Eona to follow. “Keep some distance between us. If we run into trouble, I'll need room to swing my sword.”

“Is there room for that in a mine?” She peered down the tunnel, clutching her skirt.

“Don't know. Never been in one.” He took his time ambling down the slope. The dirt was hard-packed underfoot, but there were loose pebbles and patches of damp earth to hinder them. Eona walked behind him with a hand on the wall. The rocky walls were sooty where torches and lamps had burned against them, but otherwise clean. He'd expected most of the mountain mines to be for digging coal seams, but coal dust would have left everything black. What this mine had been for, he didn't know.

The tunnel curved to the right just after the burning torch mounted in a sconce on the wall. Morghram paused, nodding at the flames. “See that?”

“What?” Eona slid in gravel and caught herself on the wall.

He put a hand out to steady her. “The way it flickers and dances. There's an air current down here. Must be more openings to the mine.”

“And more chances for whoever has my inheritance to escape,” she murmured.

Morghram lifted a finger, hushing her.

She tilted her head, listening. “What is it?”

“Voices,” he said, creeping ahead.

Lanterns cast dim light on the path before him, sprawling strange shadows out behind him. Morghram gripped his sword and moved slowly. There had been no reason to hide their presence outside, when they needed information and had room to run. Trapped within the confines of the mine, not knowing how many thieves may be there, things were different.

A shadow sliding across the path ahead was the first indication that someone was coming, emerging from an adjacent hallway just a step ahead.

The figure turned the other direction and never saw them coming. Morghram tensed, shifting back. He could charge the man, catch him from behind, but he couldn't kill him or get any answers before the man called for help. Instead he waited for the brute to put distance between them, letting the man all but disappear into the darkness ahead. Then he moved forward, following quietly. It was strange; he'd always thought mines and caves would echo. Instead the air was weighty, dense, deadening sounds.

Eona had been right to question the size of the mine shaft. The corridor grew narrower as they walked, though the lanterns were still evenly spaced and burning low. The path wasn't straight, either, curving ever so slightly before it joined another hallway. The man ahead of them turned. They followed.

A brighter light glowed at the end of the short hall ahead of them, crude furnishings visible inside a rough-hewn room. What it was originally for mattered little, but a pair of bunks stood in the corner and the light came from the room's other end.

“We're getting ready to ride,” the man they'd followed said. “You sure you don't need us to stay for the next deal, after that fight the dandy put up?”

“There won't be a fight this time,” someone replied. “The client's not a dandy.”

Morghram lifted a hand to tell Eona to stay back. She nodded, pressing herself to the wall beside her while he inched forward.

His hope to sneak a peek was dashed before he reached the doorway, when the man they'd tailed appeared in front of it.

Morghram had his sword out before the man could do more than shout. Ignoring the ache in his leg, Morghrham lunged in a thrust, for lack of room to swing.

The man fell back and sidestepped to jerk a too-large, two-handed sword from a barrel by the wall. Across the room another man leaped up from a table, knocking over his chair.

The room was crowded, but big enough to move in. And with Eona in the hall, Morghram had an advantage; no need to worry about harming an ally.

He ducked beneath a lumbering swing, jabbing his sword into a gap in the brute's mismatched armor. Roaring in pain, the man fell, hands cupping his side. The thief at the table surged over his writhing companion with blade unsheathed, striking hard and fast.

His weapon still in his hands, Morghram blocked but fell off balance, stumbling back on his bad leg.

Darting at the opening, the thief swiped at Morghram's leg. The sword caught on a lamellar plate and bounced before raking down Morghram's thigh, lighting a fire in his leg that rivaled what had ruined it years before. He howled and staggered against the wall.

Eona shrieked and the thief turned toward the hallway in alarm.

Morghram shoved himself from the rough wall before the man could move, plowing a shoulder into the thief's side and driving him to the ground.

The man clawed at him, jerking his sword around to strike with the hilt, but Morghram caught it beside his temple and wrenched the blade from his hand.

“Tammin!” the man shouted, writhing beneath Morghram's weight, looking to the other man on the floor. The fellow didn't move.

“Shut up!” Morghram bellowed, striking the man's jaw with the back of his gauntlet. The man groaned, his head lolling. Wrestling him upright, Morghram pinned him to the wall by the collar.

“Dolbin's money,” Morghram snarled, giving the man a shake. “Where is it?”

The thief's head bobbled, but for some reason, he grinned. “That's what you're here for?” He clutched at Morghram's wrist, trying unsuccessfully to loosen his grip. “Everything left is in that tankard on the table.”

Morghram shoved him against the rock and let go. The man slumped to the floor but Morghram never took his eyes from him, shuffling backwards until he bumped into the table and could reach the tankard. He lifted it and dumped it over his hand.

Eight small copper coins fell into his palm.

Across the room, the thief laughed. “The money's gone, been gone for days. Your friend spent most of it on his own. We took what was left when we killed him, split it between the group. No telling where they are now. You wasted your time, old man.”

Grinding his teeth, Morghram threw the tankard to the ground and curled his fingers around the coins.

“Morghram,” Eona started.

He shook his head as he limped toward her. He put a gentle hand on her shoulder and turned her back into the hallway. “Let's go.”

Behind them, the thief still laughed.