beside her. The place appeared almost new, constructed of expensive, solid pine boards.
"Why not just burn it?" Leesil whispered.
"I already told you," Brenden answered. "Hundreds of townsfolk make their living from this place in one way or another."
"Yes, but if we kill the owner, won't that bring about a similar result?" Leesil shifted his weight to get a better hold on the squirming dog. "Chap, will you stop that?"
Conversing at all was difficult as Leesil was busy holding onto Chap's muzzle and his wildly struggling body.
"Maybe…" Brenden hesitated. "Maybe not. At least their livelihoods might stay intact for a while, if someone else can step in to keep the place running."
On their way through town, Chap had led them on a wandering course down alleys and side streets, searching the ground with his nose. At the crossing of two roads, he'd lurched back, sneezing as if he'd caught a whiff of something that agitated his senses. He broke into a half-trot, then a full run. All of them were forced to hurry after him, making themselves ridiculously conspicuous. Magiere had cursed herself for not tying a rope around his neck.
Chap ran straight for this warehouse, sniffing the outside floorboards and growling. Welstiel had said to use the dog.
If he was correct, then this indeed was the right place. Heavily armed, they now hid behind a stack of crates, deciding on their next course of action and trying to avoid being seen by dockworkers. The sun was low in the sky.
Magiere listened quietly, wishing Leesil and Brenden would stop arguing and let her think. The warehouse seemed a logical place to begin, especially since it matched Brenden's claim that its owner was the one who attacked her. Chap's reaction seemed to confirm their suspicions.
Part of her agreed with Leesil. They ought to just wait until closing time when the workers went home, then pour oil all over the base and set it on fire. Brenden's concern made sense as well. And what if the nobleman and the dirty urchin weren't even inside? What if Chap were only reacting to old or faint residue from either of them passing this way? She had no idea how the dog was able to track these creatures or what was the extent of his abilities.
Yes, finding their prey was the first obstacle to surpass, but once that was accomplished, she and her small group were prepared for fighting undeads, although none of them had used the word. Welstiel had mentioned Brenden's strength. She assumed he meant physical strength, but now she wasn't so sure. Her red-bearded companion crouched calmly, without fear, holding a crossbow in one hand and balancing himself on the packed ground with the other. He'd soaked all his quarrels in garlic water and tucked six roughly sharpened wooden stakes into his belt alongside dangling skins of water. One stake at the center of his back was longer, more like a half-length spear. She didn't know him at all, but was beginning to believe there was more to him than met the eye.
Leesil was now fairly weighted down by a bag tied to his back across his left shoulder. She'd watched him pack and repack it a few times. He had brought a crossbow, several garlic-soaked quarrels, and a long, wooden box. He also filled four small wine flasks with oil, tightly sealed their stoppers, and placed them in the bag, along with a flint. Then he had fashioned two short torches, which he tied to his back as well. She knew he typically carried various stilettos and other bladed weapons somewhere inside his clothes.
She, on the other hand, traveled light, carrying nothing besides her falchion. Her role in this macabre play was to fight Rashed, while the others dealt with the smaller creature called Ratboy, should both their targets be discovered together.
"How are we going to get in?" she asked finally, surveying the warehouse wall up and down. "We can't exactly walk in the front doors and ask the workers, 'By the way, where do your masters sleep?' And I don't fancy trying to enter after dark."
"There's probably a hidden door in the back wall," Leesil answered.
She blinked. "How do you know?"
He hesitated. "Because I've seen this type of construction before. I'll know what to look for."
He'd broken into warehouses before? Magiere's curiosity was piqued, but this was not the time or place. "All right," she said. "Stay behind the crates."
Stacks of wooden crates surrounded this side of the building, which made