The memory came out of nowhere, the words biting at Meisha's heart. The woman who'd spoken those words to Kall was unrecognizable to her now. She had no desire to be reminded of the person she'd once been.

"Kall," she whispered, feeling tears sting her eyes as she remembered the young man who'd stood defiantly in her path and watched his death smolder in her eyes. "I understand now."

She could never kill Varan. Even had she the magical might, she had no will for the task. Not when there was a chance he might be saved.

She closed her eyes against the memories, retreating instinctively into a meditative trance. Varan had taught her that, as well. She would need to conserve as much strength as possible for what lay ahead. She'd been wrong—she couldn't rely on Kall getting her message. Something had to be done to get the refugees out of the Delve before Varan became any more volatile. For if the fire beast didn't kill them all, Meisha knew, deep in her soul, Varan would.

* * * * *

Haroun walked beside Talal to the front of the warrens, where the refugees stood herded together. The crowd stood tense and wary, fighting desperately to keep the guilt off their faces as Balram questioned each about Meisha.

"I don't remember you." Balram held the back of his hand to his nose as he spoke to Talal, but the boy only grinned innocuously.

"I was smaller when you were here last, sir," he said. His voice was chipper and polite, as if he were trying to sell Balram goods on a street corner. "Cleaner too, I'll warrant."

Balram didn't answer but looked back to where Aazen leaned against a wall. "You're sure she was a Harper?"

Aazen shrugged. "She wore the pin. I left her body beneath the portal. Only the bloodstain remains."

"I see." Balram grasped a fistful of Talal's dirty hair. He didn't pull or shake the boy; he simply held the tender strands straight out behind his left ear, sifting them through his fingers. Talal stiffened, and the vacant smile on his lips slid away, replaced by a taut line as fear battled with anger.

Aazen waited. He'd been on the receiving end of this punishment when he was younger than Talal. He knew what would happen if the boy displeased his father.

"What did you do with the Harper's body?" Balram asked. "These people—your friends—say you're a scavenger. Did you scavenge her corpse? You don't look like a vulture, though you're filthy enough to be one." He leaned closer, still holding Talal's hair. He sniffed, wrinkling his nose in disgust. "Your breath stinks of refuse. You'd eat your own droppings, wouldn't you, if you thought they'd nourish you. Did you eat the Harper too?" His eyes gleamed wickedly. "Are you so very hungry? But that's ungrateful. Don't we feed you well enough down here—provide for your every need? Only an animal eats its own leavings."

"I didn't eat her," Talal said. His voice trembled with suppressed rage. "I took her boots." He pointed to his feet.

A pair of brown leather boots bunched up awkwardly around his knees, straps and buckles dangling. Scorch marks from old fires bruised the leather.

"They're hers," Aazen said. "I remember sitting on them."

"Oh-ho." Balram chuckled. "Straddled her like a two-taran whore, did you?" He clucked his tongue. "Isslun will be disappointed in you. Or is it Aliyea?"

Talal stirred. Balram snapped his hand straight out from the boy's head without looking away from Aazen's face.

Talal screamed out in pain and fell to his knees. He clutched at the patch of bare, bloodied skin behind his ear. Tears streamed from his eyes.

Haroun started forward, but Aazen caught the woman's arm, roughly drawing her back. "You will only worsen the pain," he hissed in her ear.

She glanced up at him, surprised, but kept her silence.

Balram calmly sprinkled bits of loose hair over Talal's whimpering form. "It certainly sheds like an animal. What a mess you are." He crouched down, snagging Talal's chin. "If you're truly the heartless vulture, why should you care what insult I give the Harper?"

"I don't care," Talal said through gritted teeth.

"Oh, but it seemed like you did, just then. The look on your face was terribly affronted. I'm warning you, boy, if you value these people's lives, you will give me truth. Where is the Harper?"

"We brought her here!" Talal shouted. Jerking away from Balram, he climbed back to his feet and stood defiantly before the gathered Shadow Thieves. Behind him, the refugees, though far greater in number, stood in stunned, terrified silence while Balram regarded the boy.

"Why?" he asked.

"We tried to heal her," Talal said, calmer now. He wiped his running nose as blood dripped down his neck. "So she could help us escape."

A collective tremor went through the crowd, but still no one spoke.

"Did you expect we wouldn't try?" Talal asked mockingly, his eyes daring Balram to come at him again.

Balram smiled. "I wouldn't have expected an animal to speak so boldly. Yes, I knew you'd try. Were your efforts rewarded?"