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436 pages, Kindle Edition
First published November 30, 2010

“Home?”
Josef nodded. “It’s as low as we get. No one will find us there.”
“But home is so boring,” Eli said. “Nothing happens.”
Josef crossed his arms over his chest. “Nothing’s supposed to happen. Do you not understand the concept of lying low?”
“What’s wrong with him?”
“Nothing,” Alric said. “He’s just had a bit of a fright. But it doesn’t matter. His bounty is good whether he’s dead or alive, correct?”
This question was directed at Phillipe Whitefall, though it took a few moments for the bounty office director to realize that.
“Yes,” he said, his voice trembling as he bent over for a closer look at Izo’s terror-stricken face. “Izo, scourge of the north, wanted dead or alive for one hundred and fifty thousand. But how did you catch him?”
Alric closed his eyes and took a deep, calming breath. “I didn’t. Izo the Bandit King was captured by Eli Monpress. I’m only here to deliver him.”
The woman made an irritated sound. “Your reward is the same as ever. Three years of service, and then I will bring you to Zarin. All you have to do is keep reporting and not blow your cover and it’s a done deal. That is, unless you keep bothering me about it.”
Miranda knew she looked petulant, but she couldn’t help it. Lately, it seemed she was always the last to know anything.
“Forgive my companion,” Sparrow said, his voice honeyed and dripping with sincerity. “She is a Spiritualist and a native of Zarin, and as such suffers from an overinflated sense of importance.”
