“Lucky for his sake.” Aram glanced at Jason. “You have charming friends.”

“I’m a Beyonder,” Jason apologized. “I met Ferrin before I knew what displacers were.”

“How did he find us?”

“He’s a spy,” Jason said. “It’s what he does. He said he asked around at the Dockside Inn.”

“You have his hand?”

“I stole it when he forced me to return to the Beyond. I used it to keep in touch with him from there.”

Aram opened the front door, checked up and down the street, then withdrew. “How much do you trust him?”

“About as much as you do,” Jason said. “I expect he’ll follow through with the horses. But I’m not sure I want to lead him to Galloran.”

“How would you feel about completely avoiding his assistance?”

Jason thought about it. Ferrin might be sincere. But the displacer had suckered him before. No matter how much help Ferrin could provide, there was a real chance it would end with a double-cross. “Might be safer.”

“Good. Because we’re not exiting town where I described. I’m a man of my word, but I’m willing to make an exception when some limb dropper has a knife to my mother’s throat. Besides, no money changed hands.”

“He’s lied to me before,” Jason said. “It was how we ended up traveling together.”

“Yet he really freed you from Felrook?” Moira asked.

“He did,” Jason confirmed. “He took a huge risk with nothing to gain. It was the sort of thing only a real friend would do. It’s possible he really means to help us.”

“Any doubt is too much when displacers are involved,” Aram said. “We need to leave this house now. There’s a secret back exit. I have many hideaways around town.”

“I’ll gather my things,” Moira said.

“How do you plan to sneak us out of town if the gates and port are covered?” Jason asked Aram.

“We’ll stage a couple of diversions, then sneak under the wall.”

“Under the wall?”

Aram grinned. “How long can you hold your breath?”

The streets of Ithilum quieted as the shadows of evening deepened. Jason followed several paces behind Aram, who had regained his imposing physique at sunset. Wearing trousers and sturdy sandals that Aram had purchased, along with a hat and a brown cloak, Jason felt much less conspicuous than he had in his jeans. Glancing back down the avenue that sloped up from the sea, Jason saw several people moving about. Out on the point of the reef, a fiery beacon flared. Scattered tendrils of mist shone in the distant firelight.

Earlier in the evening Aram had escorted Jason and Moira to a hidden room less than a block from their townhome. He had reviewed several options with his mother regarding resources she could access, including people who could help her and places she could go. He then requested some additional money and jewels from Jason to pay some bribes.

After Aram became tall and strong again, he set off to perform some final errands. Moments ago, he had returned and exchanged solemn but tearless farewells with his mother, who beamed up at her son after their final embrace.

Jason had almost lost it watching them say good-bye. His throat had constricted, and tears had threatened. It saddened him to think that the half giant would probably never see his mother again. They were obviously close.

The farewell had turned his thoughts to his own parents. Sure, he wasn’t especially tight with his mom and dad, but they wanted the best for him and he still loved them. They had worked hard to get him back after he had vanished the first time. They had to be devastated thinking he had been devoured by a hippo. And they might never learn otherwise. At least he knew that his family was home and safe. With a little luck, he might find Rachel and eventually make it back to them.

Up ahead, Aram rounded a corner. When Jason followed him into the alley, Aram stood several paces ahead, gesturing for him to hurry. Jason sprinted to the big man, who boosted him over a wall before following. They crouched together in a courtyard garden. Aram led Jason stealthily to the far side, passing a pond decorated with floating flowers, and hopped up to peer over the wall.

“Some soldiers behind us were showing too much interest,” Aram whispered before shoving Jason over the wall. Jason dropped to the far side. The big man landed beside him an instant later. They hurried across a road and down another alleyway. Aram led them at a furious pace around numerous corners, keeping to narrow streets and crooked alleys. Soon they stood panting in a shadowy side street that opened onto a main road running along the western wall of the town. A row of shops lined the far side of the road along the base of the wall.

Leaning forward, Aram scanned up and down the street. He tapped Jason on the shoulder and led him across the road. They strolled casually to the door of one of the shops. The windows were dark. Aram knocked three times, paused, and then rapped twice more.

The door opened immediately, and Aram led Jason inside.

The cluttered shop contained an assortment of curiosities and knickknacks. Jason noticed a large trunk completely encrusted with shells. A huge trophy fish bristling with quills hung on one wall.

A hunched figure wearing a clownish mask silently guided Aram and Jason to a door at the rear of the store. Judging by his hands, he appeared to be an old man. He took a sleek harpoon from a rack on the wall and handed it to Aram. From a pocket in his loose, shabby coat, their guide produced a glowing length of seaweed. Aram took the seaweed, opened the door, and led Jason down a rickety flight of wooden stairs that groaned at their passage.

The masked figure closed the door but did not follow.

The deep cellar was a musty maze of stacked crates and indiscernible objects draped in dusty tarps. With quick strides, Aram wove through the clutter to a pyramid of crates in a corner. Winding the seaweed around his thick forearm, Aram began unstacking the wooden boxes, moving them aside until he uncovered a splintered wooden pallet. Raising the heavy pallet, Aram revealed a circular hole in the stone floor protected by a metal grate. Leaving the pallet upended, Aram knelt, produced a key, unlocked the grate, and pulled it open.

“Down the ladder,” Aram instructed.

The gaping hole looked ominous in the turquoise light of the luminescent seaweed. Jason hoped that Aram knew what he was doing. Squatting at the brink, staring down into the darkness, Jason observed iron rungs protruding from the stone. Could this lead to a tunnel under the wall? Turning around, he felt for the first rung with his foot, then began to descend. Aram followed. Jason heard the grate clang softly as it was dragged shut.