Tiernons' eyes were wide as he held out the cryptic letter.

"This is an invitation to the annual gathering of the Guild of Whispering Blood."

"From your expression, I'm guessing that I was right to assume it would be helpful?" Neira said.

"It's an exclusive event." He asserted "The letter indicates that they will be welcoming all new members of the Guild."

Opening up the map he scoured both documents, side by side

"There are passwords and locations- this could be your chance to meet with one of the high ranking members and actually stand a chance at getting your altar approved."

"Or a chance to infiltrate the most powerful ally of the slave trade." Dyric murmured, rubbing at the stubble on his jaw.

"It seems like our interests are aligned for at least one more leg of your adventure."

Assem looked up at Neira with a smile. Her voice was weak, but her color was slowly returning. Neira brightened, warmth swelling within her. She turned back to Tiernon.

"Do you think you could help us get through this party?"

Tiernons' eyes moved to the children, who were engrossed in Cuzews' animated account of the bandit attack. His eyes grew misty and he smiled.

"After everything you all have done for me, how could I not?"

There was nearly a week left before the day of the gathering, but the thought of it made Neiras' stomach churn. She was grateful for all of the packing and preparation that could occupy her mind.

They set out for Nopriat early the next morning, and arrived at the gates of the city by midday. The roads were filled with people and lined with colorful merchant stalls trying to lure them in. Salesman called out to them as they passed, drawing attention to jewels and fabrics, exotic creatures and fragrant spices. Neira looked from stall to stall at a hundred things she'd never seen, drinking it all in with wide eyes and a wider grin.

Past the stalls was a large area with a flood of people clamoring before a podium. This was a sight Neira knew well, but from the other side of the stage. Up on the podium were the slaves, ropes binding their hands together as they were paraded across like livestock. Hot rage bubbled up inside her, sick and burning as she watched the people calling out offers.

A hand touched her shoulder and made her jump. It was Akua, pulling her attention away from the hateful scene. She noticed the whole group had dour expressions on, their gaze fixed ahead of them. Shouts rang out from behind the slave podium. The tumult grew until a mountainous man, bound and wearing only a loincloth burst into the crowd. He barreled through with a furious roar.

His dark eyes scanned the area as he forced his way through a clot of people. Three armed men rushed after him, all looking distinctly disheveled. The one in the rear had blood gushing from his nose, and a rage in his face that spoke only of death. Breaking through the crowd, the escaped man was headed strait for them. Rai and Horen screamed in fear when the slavers tackled him just feet away.

Two of them fought him into the dirt while the third drew his sword. He raised it high, poised for the killing blow.

"Wait!" Neira cried, starting toward them.

The man paused, eyes narrow and looked Neira up and down with open disdain. Akua stepped forward, holding his hand out to halt the sword.

"My good man, that slave has incredible strength and fire. It would be such a waste to slay him now."

"Fire burns when it has its way. The slave is not worth the trouble he causes!"

Akua flashed a toothy grin.

"Surely one just needs the right master. I wish to purchase him from you."

"The pleasure of killing this beast is worth more to me than your gold!" The bloody slaver snapped back.

Akua retrieved a sack of gold and gems from the camel and offered it to the man.

"Perhaps this much could change your mind?"

All three men looked up with hungry eyes at the sack that dangled before them. With a huff the slaver sheathed his weapon and snatched the proffered payment.

"Very well then, let the brute be your problem."

He waved them away and stalked back to his place with the other two on his heels, grabbing at the treasure and demanding their cut.

"That may not have been wise." Tiernon muttered, his eyes roving across the crowds around them.

Akua reached down and offered his hand to the slave man, who heaved himself from the dirt, breathing heavily. The man glanced at the hand with narrowed eyes and rose on his own. He towered over all of them, a veritable giant up close. His bright hair was a reddish orange color Neira had never seen before. With the afternoon sun behind him it almost looked like flames sitting atop his head.

His skin too almost glowed from how painfully light it was in the areas it was not coated in grime. Blood dripped from his shoulder where it had slammed into a stone. Neira swallowed the knot in her throat and tried her best to smile at him.

"What's your name?"

The giant turned his wary gaze on her. Neira shrunk beneath his intense scrutiny. Morai began digging through her pack.

"It won't do any good." She said "He likely doesn't understand much of our language yet."

She came forward with a damp rag and bandages. His eyes widened as she said something to him in a strange language. He nodded mutely, his mouth hanging open. Morai began cleaning his shoulder, standing on tip-toe to reach. He flinched as she swiped an ointment across it, and knocked her off balance. She fell against his bare chest, and leapt back, her face red.

His voice was deep, but somewhat raspy when he spoke to her. Morai kept her eyes on the wound, wrapping the bandage around it, but smiled slightly. She nodded, her face still quite flushed, and muttered a response.

"He says his name is Iroin." She explained, moving back to where Cuzew stood.

Akua pulled out a dagger and Iroin tensed again, watching him through slitted eyes.

"Why don't we get those ropes off of you?"

The ropes fell to the ground and Iroin rubbed at the swollen, chafed skin on his wrists. He gave Akua a grateful nod.

"Well," Dyric put in "it looks as though we had better hurry and find ourselves a place to stay."

He looked at Iroin who was once more staring at a very embarrassed Morai.

"Perhaps first we should find some very large clothes for our new friend."

Iroin followed behind them in silence as they wound through the city. His singular appearance drew stares from everyone. His expression was stiff, his eyes scanning the crowd. Each time they entered a new shop he was forced to duck down to get through the door. Eventually they found clothes that would at least cover him, though none of the shops had any on hand that would fit him well.

Back on the street, Neira noticed three men watching them from the other side. Iroin bent down and whispered something to Morai, pointing to the ominous onlookers. She nodded and turned to the others.

"Iroin says those three men have been following us since the slave market."

"I was afraid that might happen." Tiernon lamented with a shake of his head.

"It probably wasn't the best idea to advertise our wealth." Neira admitted "Still, as angry as those slavers were, it was probably the only way to stop them killing Iroin. Whatever happens, I don't regret what we did."

Iroin scowled, his head drooping. He may not understand their language, but he was no fool. Morai put a hand on his arm and murmured something to him, her expression gentle and earnest. He nodded and gave a small smile in return, covering her hand with his own. Dyric shifted uncomfortably and looked away from his sister.

"I was going to suggest an inn, but perhaps given all the attention we have attracted we should find somewhere a bit more defensible."

Rai and Horen shrunk back, clinging to their uncle while they watched the strangers all around them.

"Acquiring an estate could help strengthen our standing with the Guild." Tiernon mused "I know of a man not far from here who deals in land."

Assem grimaced from the top of the camel she was riding.

"Not far sounds like a very good plan at this point."

Tiernon led them to a building that sat in a quiet area with little foot traffic. With the throngs of people no longer surrounding them, their followers became even bolder, lurking behind them like jackals. Neira kept her hand on her sword hilt, the hair on her neck rising.

Tiernons' acquaintance had a place close by that suited them well. The men followed them the whole way, looming in the shadows, but never getting too close. The sun began to set as the group settled into their new temporary abode, ready for a long night of watching and waiting.