"We mean no harm," Malaki said. "We only wish to pass."

  The hyenafolk exchanged glances. "Meat," one of them growled. "Give us meat, or gold to buy meat, or you can be meat."

  "Give them some food, and coin if you have it," Malaki said. "Then they will let us pass. They do not like to attack unless they have greater numbers."

  "Do you have love for these dog-men?" Jaya asked, frowning.

  Malaki shook his head. "They steal our goats." He paused. "Our children, sometimes. My sister, Malakelle, she would have been twelve this year ..."

  "Stealing children," Skiver said. "Huh."

  "Do you know what our friend Ernst would have said about people who steal goats and children?" Jaya said to the leader of the hyenafolk.

  "He would have said it's rude," Alaeron said. "Malaki, get behind us."

  "Glad you lot came along," Skiver said, grinning at the beast-men. "We've been wanting to kill something for a couple of days now."

  The leader barked, and the others raised their spears. Skiver threw a knife, which stuck harmlessly in a leather chestplate, but his next took off most of one canine ear, making its owner yap and squeal and clutch its head. Jaya backed coolly down the trail, putting distance between herself and the marauders, nocking an arrow as she went. The track was too narrow for Alaeron to risk tossing a bomb, and he considered taking a dose of feral mutagen, but then he found the golden chain in his pocket. He lashed out with it, and the chain extended, wrapping around one of the hyenafolk's spears like a constricting serpent around a throat. Alaeron yanked the chain and pulled the spear loose, then flicked his wrist to make the chain uncoil and sent the weapon clattering off the rocks. The creature growled and advanced, but then Jaya's arrow caught it in the throat, and its doglike eyes went wide. It whimpered and fell.

  The other two hyenafolk growled—and then turned and ran. An arrow caught one in the back, and a throwing knife the other. Skiver picked up the spear Alaeron had torn away and methodically stabbed the fallen bandits through their necks as they tried to crawl away. "There's your meat, bastards," he said, and tossed the spear down. "You want their heads, Malaki? Mount them on sticks by your village, and they might hesitate to steal your goats and sisters again."

  "Perhaps on the way back," the boy said. "I wouldn't want to carry their heads up the mountain and back down again. Did you want to loot them?" His voice was incredibly polite.

  Probably terrified we'll think he's rude, Alaeron thought, coiling the chain back up. Murdering hyenafolk was a poor substitute for grieving, but it was something, and served to break a bit of the tension they'd carried since Ernst's death.

  "No, have at it," Skiver said. "I doubt this lot's likely to have a magic sword or a bag of precious gems, is it?"

  Malaki checked the hyenafolk, pocketing a few tarnished rings and other small items. Then he drew a knife and hacked off their tails.

  "What are you doing?" Skiver asked.

  "The man who runs the lodge offers a bounty for hyenafolk tails," he said, and finished his grisly work. "You killed them, so the bounty is yours."

  "I think we can do without it," Skiver said. "Call it a gratuity for your services."

  Malaki nodded, obviously pleased. "This way," he said, stepping over the corpses, and Alaeron and the others followed.

  ∗ ∗ ∗

  The Vulture's Roost was a small fort of stone and timber placed at the crest of the pass, built into the rocks with a good view of both slopes. Malaki pounded on the wooden door with his fist until it swung open. A blond half-elf in a chain shirt peered out. "What do you need, boy?"

  "Tell Akfirat Zouhair I have tails for him," he said.

  The half-elf shook his head. "My master's having a meal. I can pay you well enough, though, come in." He chose to take notice of the others. "Any of you lot Pathfinders?"

  "Do we get a discount if we are?" Skiver said.

  The half-elf rolled his eyes. "That's a no, then. Well, all adventurers are welcome; come in, take some water for the trip down, we've other provisions for sale too."

  "I thought Pathfinder lodges were more exclusive than this?" Alaeron said, following the others in.

  "Some are," the half-elf said. "But Zouhair will take your coin. You're not welcome upstairs, and you can't stay over—that's for Society members only—but we'll sell you salted goat meat and whetstones, fear not."

  The lodge was dim, windows being a low priority in a fort, with a few long tables set up below the stone-and-timber ceiling, and a counter along one wall. Leaning against the counter was—

  "What is that?" Skiver said, entirely too loudly.

  The eight-foot-tall creature by the counter turned its head and scowled at them.

  "He is derhii," Jaya said. She spoke a few words in her mother's tongue, and the derhii grunted. He looked essentially like a gorilla, but a pair of enormous vulture wings sprouted from the black fur on his back.

  "Travelers," he said, in weirdly accented Taldane. "Do you need passage down the mountain?"

  "That's a monkey with wings," Skiver whispered to Alaeron.

  "Ape," Alaeron corrected automatically. "Monkeys have tails."

  "Oh, that's all right then," Skiver said.

  "We would appreciate your guidance," Jaya said.

  "And I your coin." The derhii's voice was deep and booming, even lower than Kormak's. "I cannot carry three, however. Two, yes, but not three. My cousin is nearby, and could carry another, if you have money."

  "Hold on, Jaya," Skiver said. "You want us to get carried down the mountain by a flying ape?"

  "Your people carried my mother up to the pass when she left her village, before I was born," Jaya said warmly, stepping closer to the winged ape. "She spoke of the honor and kindness of your people."

  The derhii grunted. "Some are honorable and kind. Others are not. Much as it is with your people. But if you can pay, in gold or armor or," he licked his lips, "wine or pesh, I will see you safely to the foot of the hills."

  Skiver sighed and fished a coin purse from his pocket. Alaeron recognized it as Ernst's. "Will this do?"

  "For me," the derhii said. "That much again for my cousin."

  Skiver sighed. "Fine. Payment upon our safe landing, all right?"

  The derhii shrugged. "I will find my cousin." He walked out of the lodge, long, powerful arms swinging.

  "I never thought to see one of them," Jaya said. "My mother believed there were only a few hundred left in these mountains. They are an ancient race."

  The half-elf finished paying Malaki, who left with cheerful farewells to begin the long march back down the mountain. "The derhii are trustworthy," he said, perching on a stool behind the counter. "They won't drop you and loot your corpses or anything. They know we'd warn travelers away from using their services if they started doing that." He waved his hand. "They roost among the caves in the cliffs. Mostly keep to themselves, apart from trading here and ferrying passengers from time to time. They never make any trouble, though judging by all the armor and weapons they try to get, I think they must war amongst themselves a fair bit. Won't do you any harm, though."

  "How reassuring," Alaeron said, and decided he would mix up a potion of flight as soon as he had a moment. He would prefer traveling under his own power to being hauled through the sky by a flying ape, but it was too late to do anything about it now.

  Skiver haggled a bit with the half-elf over supplies, buying a couple of knives to replace the ones he'd lost in the fight with Kormak. The derhii ducked back inside. "We are ready when you are," he boomed.

  They went out and greeted the other derhii, a smaller female version of the one they'd originally met. "Where are you bound?" the larger derhii asked.

  "My mother's village," Jaya said, and rattled off a name in the tongue of her forebears.

  "We know it," the derhii grunted. "You look like those people. These don't, though."

  "We're adventurers," Skiver said. "Going to seek our fortune!"

  "Do you know the ruins of Kho?" Alaeron asked.

  The derhii looked at one another. The big one shrugged. "There are many ruins in the Expanse. They are best avoided. Are you ready to depart?"

  "Yes," Jaya said. "Best make sure your packs are secure, fellows."

  The big derhii scooped up Jaya and Skiver, one in each arm, making the latter squawk. He took a few steps, huge wings beating, then lifted into the air and sailed off, flying low to the ground, cradling Jaya and Skiver like infants.

  "You with me," the female derhii said. Ape's face or not, the look of amusement was obvious.

  "I've never traveled this way before," Alaeron said.

  "Better than walking," she said. "I don't know how you wingless ones stand plodding along in the dirt." She picked up Alaeron in her arms like a groom carrying his bride and followed her cousin into the air. She smelled strongly of sweat and musk and wet fur, and Alaeron turned his face away, but while that took him away from the odor, it presented him with the view: the mountain pass dropping away steeply, making his stomach lurch up into his throat. This wasn't as bad as being hauled skyward by his combined relics, but it was close. Below there were foothills and boulders and spires of rock, and past that, in the west ...nothing much but an ocean of green, trees upon trees, a sea of trees, an infinity of trees. The famous Mwangi Expanse, jungles filled with beasts and terrors and ruins, threaded through with rivers so vast they made the Sphinx and the Crook seem like little more than creeks.

  But Alaeron wasn't going that far. Their destination was closer, in some hidden valley above the foothills. The derhii flapped her wings in a steady rhythm, swooping downward, going faster and faster until Alaeron had to squeeze his eyes shut against the wind as tears streamed across his face.

  He would not have believed that soaring through the air in the embrace of an ape could be boring, but it soon was—he could barely see for the wind, and the steady thrum of her wings was almost hypnotic. He even managed to doze off a bit, proving, he supposed, that anyone could grow accustomed to anything.

  The trip took hours, which meant walking it would have taken days. Night was almost fallen when his derhii landed, dropping him a foot from the ground amid a stand of trees. He'd glimpsed a group of huts nearby to the north, and assumed—hoped—that was Jaya's ancestral home.

  Skiver and Jaya were already settled on the ground, the assassin counting out coins for his derhii. "How do we reach you lot if we want a ride back up?" Skiver was saying.

  "The villagers can call us," he said. "They have drums." Without wishing them luck or bidding them farewell, he took off again, and was soon a speck in the sky. Skiver opened his purse and turned to Alaeron's derhii, complaining that it shouldn't cost as much since she'd only carried one person, but the derhii just bared her teeth until Skiver finished counting out money into her palm. Then she was away, too.

  "A proud and taciturn people," Jaya said.

  "Greedy apes," Skiver said. "Just like most people I've met. All right then. Shall we go on? Have your happy reunion?"

  Jaya swallowed, and nodded. "I hope ...all I know are names, and stories, I've never met any of them ..." She took a breath, then exhaled. "All right. Let's go."

  Alaeron and Skiver followed her toward the village. Our journey has neared its end, Alaeron thought. Tomorrow. Tomorrow, they would see Kho.

  Unless something killed them first.

  ∗ ∗ ∗

  "Greetings, adventurers," the Uomoto man said, leaning on a long stick at the village's edge. "Welcome to the gateway to the Mwangi Expanse, where treasures untold await those bold enough to brave its dangers. We humble villagers offer provisions and guides." He spoke Taldane with hardly any accent, and his tone was unspeakably bored.

  Jaya answered him in the Uomoto tongue, and the man looked suddenly much more interested. He stepped closer, took Jaya's face in his hands, peered long into her eyes, then stepped back, laughing in delight. "You are Melima's daughter!" he said in Taldane. "Come, come!"

  "Is my uncle Tamba here?" Jaya asked.

  The man grew serious. "No, he is ..." He hesitated. "Come. Your cousin Saa will tell you. Your friends are welcome too." He strode among the stone huts, chickens scattering before him, calling out in his own language. Dark-skinned people—clearly Jaya's kin to one degree or another—emerged to peer out of doorways. Small children clustered around them as they walked, tugging at their clothes, shouting and laughing, and several women stopped Jaya to clutch her hand and pat her cheeks.

  "My relatives were never so happy to see me," Skiver said.

  "Perhaps if they'd never met you before, they'd have been more welcoming," Alaeron said.

  "Most likely," Skiver agreed.

  They reached Saa's hut. Jaya's cousin was of an age with her, but taller, with hair twisted into a profusion of small braids and a face more careworn and lined than Jaya's. She welcomed them, shooed away the children, and bid the adventurers to sit with her on the stones that formed a circle around a firepit beside her hut.

  Jaya said something in the fluid Uomoto tongue, and Saa said, softly, "May we speak Taldane? We all try to practice when outsiders come. Not that you are an outsider, ah ..."

  "No, no, I am, I know," Jaya said. "Cousin. I am so pleased to meet you at last. My mother told me often of your mother, her sister. Is she here?"

  Saa shook her head. "No, she ...I am the closest kin you have left, though most in the village—all the villages, here in the foothills—are related somehow. How fares your mother? We hoped she would return."

  Jaya shook her head. "She passed on many years ago, when I was hardly grown. A fever. She had always hoped to come back, to bring me, but it is not an easy journey, and I'm afraid ..." Jaya shrugged.

  "You are here now, and most welcome. And your companions?"

  "Alaeron, an alchemist; and Skiver, a..." she hesitated. "A mercenary."

  "I've been called worse," the cutthroat said cheerfully. "But we're not here just for a happy reunion, I'm afraid."

  Jaya took a breath. "It is true. A powerful man sent me. I owe him a great debt, and this is how he asks me to repay him. He wishes me to take these men to the ruins of Kho."

  "Kho," Saa said, and shivered. "You must not go there. We point travelers in that direction when they ask, but they seldom return. You are a child of our people, though—we would not risk your blood. For the Uomoto, entering the city is forbidden."

  "We must," Jaya said simply. "I ...have a brother. His life depends on my success."

  "Then his life is forfeit," Saa said, "and I grieve for this cousin I may never meet. For even if you go to Kho, you will not return. It has always been a place we shunned, haunted and dangerous, but of late, it is so much worse. The creatures within have spurned our ancient bargain, and are no longer content with the sacrifices we make."

  "What do you mean?" Jaya said. "What's happened?"

  "My mother," she said. "Our uncle. My own brother, and sister. They are gone. All taken over these past months. All stolen by some creature and carried off. It has taken half a dozen so far." She shook her head. "None have returned."

  "What took them?" Jaya said.

  Saa spread her hands. "We do not know. The monster comes shrouded in a cloud of darkness which no light can penetrate, and it is impossibly fast and strong. We are not without sorcerers and shamans of our own—magic is strong in the Uomoto—but they have been unable to penetrate this mystery or defend against it. The fallen city has always taken a blood price, cousin, but this is different. There are many dark creatures who dwell there, and they hunger. There is a great monolith, the Stone of Sacrifice, and oathbreakers and outlaws who must be put to death have long been bound there, left to be taken by the creatures from the ruins. Such gifts appeased them for generations, but some months ago, something in the ruins became hungrier, greedier, and it sneaks in among us at night, taking our people and leaving no sign behind but smears of blood and the smell of smoke." She lowered her voice. "There has been talk of leaving this place entirely, before we are all stolen away."

  "Did you send out warriors?" Skiver asked. "Some of you folk look like you'd be handy with spears and bows. Have they tried to bring your people back?"

  "It is forbidden," Saa said, eyes going wide. "Uomoto do not enter the ruins. It is a place of poison. Any who break that taboo, if they ever return, are bound to the Stone of Sacrifice."

  "I am your kin," Jaya said. "But this is not my village. I can go where you may not. Show me the way, and if any of our family yet live there, I will bring them back to you."

  "Yes," Alaeron said. "Me, too."

  Skiver shrugged. "It's where I was going anyway, so why not?"

  Saa stood. "I must speak to the elders, to tell them of your offer, but ..." She shook her head. "Do not do this, cousin. You will die. You have only just returned to us."

  "I must," Jaya said.

  Saa bowed her head. "I am sorry I will not have the chance to know you." She hurried away.

  "I'm so sorry, Jaya," Alaeron said. "If there's anything we can do, we will."

  "It's motivation, though, innit?" Skiver said. "I know you didn't have much interest in seeing the ruins before, Jaya, but now you've got a reason to go in there. Apart from Vadim forcing you, I mean."

  "Yes," Jaya said, staring at the mountains. "I do. And I mean to leave at first light." She rose and stalked off.

  Skiver looked at Alaeron and shrugged. "She's still hurting from losing Ernst, and now this?" He shook his head. "I feel sorry for whatever's stealing her kin. Jaya's got a look about her that says nothing but bloody murder will soothe her."

  Alaeron nodded. "I'd better prepare some extracts. I have a feeling this may be our last peaceful night for a while."

  "Probably," Skiver said. "Though it might not be all that peaceful after all. This mysterious monster could come calling and haul us away to Kho." He yawned. "That might be all right. It would spare us having to walk tomorrow."

  Bold talk, Alaeron thought, but I bet you'll sleep with a knife in your hand tonight.

  ∗ ∗ ∗

  Jaya argued with the village elders all night, and she either convinced them to trust her or wore them down. When morning came, the entire village was there to see them off, with two young warriors, slim and dark and armed with spears, to guide them as far as they could. The shaman made a blessing, and hung a necklace around each of their necks, the cords dangling pouches full of aromatic herbs, scents of flowers and crushed bark and citrus tang mingling. Alaeron wanted to ask what the herbs were, and what their properties might be—exotic ingredients from the Mwangi Expanse could make potent and rare extracts—but the sense of ceremony hardly seemed to allow it. "These charms will protect us from the foul vapors in the city," Jaya translated.