"I need a boat to get out of the city without being seen."Rook looked up from the ledger she'd been examining, one eyebrow rising toward her hairline. She closed the book with deliberate care and studied Morgana across the cluttered desk."We provide information," she said mildly. "Not boat-lending services."The Copper Lantern was quieter during early daylight hours. A few patrons nursed drinks in shadowy corners, conducting business in hushed tones. Morning sunlight filtered through grimy windows, illuminating dust motes and the smoke from Rook's pipe."I know that," Morgana said. "I need information on who to contact for an extraction. Someone reliable, who can move at a moment's notice. Once I've done what I need to do, I'll need fast transport to Karsova.""Karsova?" Rook rolled the word around her mouth like she was tasting it. "The port city on the edge of the Free Territories? Interesting choice."She tapped her pipe against the side of an empty cup, knocking loose ash."What you're planning is a bad idea.""Do you have a better one?" Morgana leaned forward. "I saw him, Rook. I saw what they've done to him.""And?""And I need to get him out."Rook snorted. "Buy him, you mean? With what? The Fallen Star brings in more gold for Thorne than any ten fighters combined. The man wouldn't sell him for all the riches in Sundar.""I don't need to buy him." Morgana's fingers drummed against the wooden desk. "I just need access to him. I need to let him see me, recognize me. He'll do the rest."Rook gave her a flat look. "You've grown into a pretty woman, I'll grant you that. But do you honestly think any level of beauty could make a man just decide to—""It's not about beauty," Morgana cut in. "It's about hope."She explained what she'd seen in the arena. How Bedivere's Fluid had flickered and dimmed. How the source of his power had been hope, and how that hope (...)