Dark Currents

TRESPASSERS WILL BE SHOT. MANY TIMES.

They stopped and Amaranthe unfolded the plat map. “The owner of the property is Lord Hagcrest. Ever heard of him or his kin?”

“No.”

“Whatever emperor gave him his land must not have liked him much,” she said, perusing the map. “The only thing you could farm up here is rocks, and I doubt you could even get machinery in to log. It’d all have to be done by hand. Any special value in any of these trees, I wonder? Or ore on this mountainside? A gold or silver deposit could definitely spur interest in the land.”

While she talked-or maybe it was burbling again-Sicarius examined the trail and the surrounding area. He stopped to dig something out of a dent in the wooden sign. A musket ball.

“Guess that warning isn’t an exaggeration,” Amaranthe said.

Sicarius scraped blood off the ball.

“Not an exaggeration at all,” she murmured.