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return to work; dock loaders and sailors passed us on their way to the piers, moving slowly as the air was still chokingly

warm. I kept my hood low and my scarf over my lower face as we continued through the dust-filled streets.

Vahn led me to a deserted section of the docks, over a crumbling stone wall to the edge of the Dust Sea itself. Below an abandoned,

broken pier, a large stone drainpipe jutted out of the wall. A trickle of greenish water dribbled from the pipe, only to be

swallowed by the dust waves below.

“The grate is open,” Vahn said, hanging back from the edge of the pipe.

Six feet below us, the great Dust Sea lapped against the wall, the constant haze making my throat itch.

“Follow the pipe into the sewers. The entrance to the underground ruins is marked with a door. You can’t miss it.

Once you’re in the ancient city, pay special attention to the path marked on the map.

You don’t want to become lost down there. Any questions?”

So many. But none he would be willing to answer. I chewed my bottom lip a moment in thought. “What do I do when I have the

memory stone?”

“Come straight back to the guild,” Vahn replied. “Don’t stop, and don’t talk to anyone. Do not show the stone to anyone but

me, understand?”

“Yeah.”

He shifted, facing me dead-on. The suns overhead cast his face in shadow, and his eyes were haunted as they met mine. “You

can do this,” he said, his voice softer than I’d ever heard it before. “I know you can. You will succeed where everyone before

you has failed.” His arms rose, and his thick, calloused hands gently gripped my shoulders. “You can do this,” he repeated,

more of a mantra to himself than to me. “You will succeed, and you will come back. I believe in you, Sparrow. Promise me that

you won’t fail.”

My throat closed. I took a quick breath to open it and managed a shaky, defiant grin. “Fail?” I repeated. “I don’t think I

know what that means. Maybe you could tell me? Because I’ve only ever done it once or... oh, wait. Never. I’ve done it

never.”

Vahn didn’t smile. I sighed and put one of my hands over his, gazing up at him seriously now. “I’ve got this,” I told him.

“I won’t fail, Vahn. When have I ever not come through before?”

He still didn’t smile. His grip on my shoulders tightened, and he seemed on the verge of pulling me into a hug, something he had never done before.

Not once. Even when I was a toddler, the closest he had ever come to showing affection was a quick arm squeeze or a pat on the head.

Tears were not encouraged in the Thieves Guild.

Moments of weakness were shunned and ridiculed, so I had learned to never let anyone see me cry.

I had been hugged once in my entire life, by Rala, who had found me crouched wet-faced and sniffling behind the bar for some reason I don’t even remember now.

She had knelt down and held me tight, and I remembered first the shock and confusion of being that close to someone, followed by the feeling of never wanting to let go.

I had been five years old at the time. And sometimes, I wished Rala had never found me huddled behind the bar that evening.

If I’d never learned what being hugged felt like, I wouldn’t miss it. I wouldn’t hold my breath every time Vahn stepped close,

wondering if this would be the day his perfect control would crack. So far, it never had.

It wouldn’t be today, either. Dropping his arms, Vahn gave me a brisk nod and stepped back, avoiding my eyes. Disappointment

fluttered my stomach, but I squashed it down. “You have your mission,” he said shortly. “I’ll see you when you return to the

guild. Fate be with you.”

I didn't answer, and for half a heartbeat, he paused, as if wanting to say something more. Something... personal. That

he was proud, perhaps. That he never doubted me. But then he turned and walked away, up the embankment, and disappeared over

the wall. He didn’t look back.

I clenched a fist and swallowed the sour feeling in my throat. From here on out, I’d be on my own.

I hooked my fingers into the mesh grate covering the pipe and pulled. It swung open with a rusty screech, revealing a dark,

narrow stretch of tunnel beyond. After double-checking my person to make sure I had everything I needed, I stepped into the

pipe and closed the grate behind me, slipping from the light into the darkness of the underground.

The sewers reeked. Especially right after Demon Hour, when everything had had time to fester in the heat. I pulled my scarf

over my nose and mouth—it worked almost as well for lessening smells as it did for filtering out dust—and unrolled the scroll

the Circle had given me. The first part of the map contained only instructions: From the pipe, go due north until you come to an intersection, then head west. Keep walking. You’ll know the door when you

see it.

“Very cryptic,” I muttered. “At least this part is easy.”

Easy, but not pleasant. I hugged the tunnel’s narrow walkway, avoiding the water that flowed through the center channel. Eventually,

it would empty into the Dust Sea and be swallowed in the sand. Out of sight, out of mind. Overhead, life in Kovass went on,

the bustle of daily life filtering through the drains above and echoing down the endless tunnels. Vendors shouted, civilians

milled on the streets, and guards patrolled, the stomp of their boots ringing over the stones. No one suspected that a lone

dust rat was creeping through the tunnels below their feet.

I didn’t like it. I wanted to see the sky over my head; the cramped, claustrophobic tunnels made me jumpy. Also, it really, really stank down there.

I walked for a long time, eventually reaching the intersection marked on the map and turning due west. The tunnel went on,

seemingly endless, as I kept looking for the cryptic “door.” Nothing stood out to me, and after a while, I began to worry

that I had become lost. Had I missed it somehow? The instructions didn’t give me a lot to go on, but I hadn’t seen any doors,

mysterious or otherwise, on my journey through the sewers.

The tunnels grew darker, the walkway I was on getting even more narrow and crumbling. I was on the verge of turning around

and retracing my steps when I heard something in the passage beyond.

Freezing in place, I held my breath and listened. Footsteps, walking quietly toward me down a side passage. Someone, or something,

was coming toward me.

I closed a hand around one of my daggers, easing back a step. I hadn’t expected to run into anything down here except rodents

and bugs, but all sorts of stories existed about things living in the sewers—everything from deranged madmen that ate human

flesh to giant roaches mutated on waste and filth. Not that I believed those stories, but none of them sounded pleasant.

I teetered on the verge of fleeing. Of slipping down a side passage and avoiding whatever was coming toward me in the tunnels.

But I was also afraid that if I left this particular passage, I would never find it again.

I would lose my way in this labyrinthine sewer system where all the tunnels looked the same.

And then I would either have to return to Vahn empty-handed, or start over from the beginning. Neither was an appealing option.

Pressing my back against the crumbling stones, I waited.

The footsteps grew louder, and a voice began drifting through the tunnels, low and mumbling, too soft to make out the actual

words. A normal person who had somehow gotten lost in the sewers? Or a disease-ridden cannibal who had lost all semblance

of sanity? My heart pounded, and I tightened my grip on my dagger. The person might be harmless, but in my world, it was better

to be safe and assume the worst than to be wrong and dead.

I waited until the footsteps were just around the corner, then, with a yell, I lunged, aiming my dagger at what I hoped was

neck-height of the stranger. I caught a split-second glance of a startled face, sun-bleached hair and wide blue eyes, before

my brain registered that I knew this person. Or at least, I’d seen him before.

“Aagh!” the stranger yelped, smoothly leaping back from my blade. His reaction was immediate; he moved so quickly, I wouldn’t

have been able to stab him even if I was truly trying. “Wait wait wait, don’t hurt me,” he said, backing away with both arms

raised. “I don’t have anything that you want, I swear.”

“You!” I exclaimed, lowering my weapon. The boy from the rooftop blinked at me, looking just as surprised to see me as I was

him. “What are you doing down here?” I demanded.

“What am I doing here?” He shrugged, and that bright grin came creeping back as he recognized me. “Just going where the threads

of Fate take me.”

“Fate took you into the sewers?”

“Well, I took me into the sewers.” He laced both hands behind his head, looking nonchalant. “But I was following where Fate told me to go. I’m a Fatechaser, you see. That’s what we do.”

I shook my head, confused. The Fatechasers were an enigma to pretty much everyone. They wandered the kingdoms and the lands

beyond, chasing their fates. Whatever that meant. How could you chase your own fate? It made no sense to me, but I wasn’t going to ask him to explain. It was widely

stated that talking to a Fatechaser about Fate was akin to repeatedly bashing your forehead against a brick wall, something

I wasn’t eager to experience. “But why are you in the sewers in the first place?” I asked instead.

“I really have no idea.” The Fatechaser grinned, completely at ease with the idea. “I just had the strangest feeling that

I needed to go into the sewers today. But now the answer seems obvious.” He cocked his head, regarding me in a curious, appraising

manner. “I was fated to run into you. That’s the only reason I can see for being here. So here we are.”

“Here we are,” I agreed, and took a step back. I didn’t have time for this, whatever this was. “And here I go. So now you can find the nearest ladder out of here and head on back to the surface. It’s not safe down

here.”

“Leave?” He seemed genuinely surprised. “Oh no, I can’t leave. I was supposed to find you. We were supposed to run into each

other.”

“What?”

“Our first meeting on the rooftop? That was no coincidence. And now I run into you again, wandering through the sewers?” He shook his head with a smile.

“There are no accidents, not with me. Our fates are intertwined, our paths connected, and we have to follow them wherever they take us. There’s a reason I ran into you. ”

“No, there’s not,” I insisted. I couldn’t have this boy following me into the city of the Deathless King. He would certainly

get himself killed. “You can’t come with me,” I told him. “Not where I’m going. Leave now.”

“Sorry,” he said cheerfully. “I don’t question what Fate points me at. Unless you’re going to kill me here, I’m afraid you’re

stuck with me.”

I scowled. I didn’t want to hurt this boy, but if I didn’t scare him off and keep him from following me around the city, either

he would die, or I would. He might be a Fatechaser, but he had probably never ventured into a mysterious underground city

filled with traps, strange magics, and ancient curses. He didn’t seem the type to pick his way through locks, avoid enemies,

and keep himself hidden. Or... maybe he was? I admittedly knew very little about Fatechasers, but it didn’t matter. I could

not, under any circumstances, fail this mission. Which meant I wasn’t going to be able to look out for him or pull him out

of danger if he needed help. I did not need this distraction, even if he was strangely charming.

I was going to have to drive him away. Even if I didn’t want to. He was just going to get us both killed, otherwise. Raising

my dagger, I stepped up and pressed the blade against his sternum, the point just shy of drawing blood. “That can be arranged,”

I said, feeling him stiffen. “You can’t follow me if you’re dead.”

His piercing blue eyes met mine, unafraid, and the smile he offered held the barest hint of resignation.

Raising both hands from his sides, palms turned out, he continued to smile and hold my gaze.

“If it is my fate to die in a sewer today, so be it,” he said calmly.

“Not the glorious end I would’ve hoped for, but at least my killer is beautiful. ”

I felt my cheeks grow hot. He wasn’t being honest, of course; people would say anything with a knife at their throat. But

he was entirely serious about dying in a sewer if that was his fate.

Dammit. Well, he had called my bluff, and I certainly couldn’t kill him now. Not that I was going to, anyway, but it would’ve been

impossible with those blue puppy-dog eyes gazing at me without a shred of guile or fear. Stepping back, I lowered the blade

with a sigh and glared at him in exasperation.

“Fine,” I said. “Do what you want. Just remember, you’re on your own. Don’t expect me to save your skin if we run into something

dangerous.”

He gave a very flashy bow, grinning brightly as he straightened. “You won’t regret it,” he promised. “You have Halek the Fatechaser

with you today, and fortune smiles on me more than most. So shall we go and see what Fate has in store for us, Lady...?”

Despite myself, I felt a smile tug at my lips, but I quickly shut it down. Halek the Fatechaser wouldn’t be around long enough

for me to get to know him. “I’m no lady,” I told him. “But you can call me Sparrow.”

“Sparrow,” he repeated, and gave a single nod. “It is an honor and a pleasure,” he said seriously. “Shall we go, then? I will follow you, until Fate dictates otherwise.”

“Sure,” I said, turning away. “Just try to keep up.”

I didn’t tell him that he was probably going to die down here.