Sam didn't like it.

This he made obvious by a constant string of mumbled curse words and threats directed at Serena, who took the entire thing in stride, and with no little satisfaction it would seem. The tall hunter had been forced to trade his leather tunic for a stained shirt that had both the texture and shape of a burlap sack, and instead of weapons he now carried a soot-coated chimney brush over one shoulder. When Serena had approached him with black makeup, saying he needed to look dirty or no one would believe the get up, he'd looked like he was ready to bite her hand off. Serena backed off and handed the pot to Natalie, who had felt herself blushing while she smudged coal dust onto Sam's cheekbones and down the side of his neck. He'd shut his eyes the entire time, luckily, or she wouldn't have been able to do it.

The tent was temporarily vacated while Serena went to show Jewels and Gwen their options for a change of clothing. So it was just her and Sam for a few minutes, which only made her face flush more hotly.

Sam opened his eyes a moment later, blinking a bit dazedly at her. His gaze flickered around the tent and he seemed to be thinking the same thing she was, because his cheeks colored slightly.

She cleared her throat, forcing herself to dab one last smudge of soot across her left cheek, just over the cheekbone. "There, you look like a proper chimney sweep."

"Thanks," he mumbled, and then to Natalie's surprise he reached out and caught her hand. His hand was much bigger, his fingers strong and rough with callouses, though he was gentle.

"You might not want to touch your face right now. Not unless you want to be a chimney sweep too."

Natalie started, realizing she'd been reaching to brush her hair back without noticing. Her fingertips were completely black, the palms of her hands covered in soot. "Oh, thanks."

Sam grinned at her, and she ducked her head, staring down at her hand to avoid looking at his face. His smile made heat bloom in her chest.

"There's a basin of water in the corner." He nodded toward the side of the ten. "Along the wall there."

Natalie hurried over, relieved for the distraction.

A moment later Gwen and Jewels came in, trailed by Serena. All three of them had traded in their bright clothing for more bland colors, and Jewels reluctantly left her bracelets and necklace in a small wooden chest in the back of the tent. Serena had sworn up and down that she would give them back, but Natalie didn't miss the narrow, glittering looked she sent the box when Jewels turned away to slip the new dress on.

"Your clothes are probably fine," Serena told Natalie. "Grey and black isn't going to attract any attention."

Sam stood surveying the goings-on with disapproval. "We're going into the barracks, aren't we?"

"Excellent assumption," Serena said. "And yes, that's where you'll meet Sunshine if she wants to see you."

"Sunshine, seriously?" Sam looked less than impressed. "What kind of code name is that?"

"You'll see." Serena smirked at him. "And don't look so down in the mouth, Sammy. Brown suits you."

"Don't call me Sammy." Sam looked down at the crate where he'd put his long daggers, and he rubbed his hands over his arms. He looked extremely uncomfortable. "These will be safe here?"

"Safe as anything." Serena had reached into one of the nearest crates, and Natalie caught a flash of silver as she transferred something from the box to the leather bag at her hip. "I pity the poor fool who tries to steal into my tent while I'm not here. Also it amuses me to think of that, so I hope someone tries."

"Nasty spell on it?" Jewels raised a brow, and when Serena snickered she nodded. "That's what I thought." She sighed. "Well at least we can be sure our things are safe here."

"Until we get back," Sam said grumpily, "and Serena steals all your jewelry."

"I don't steal, I barter." Serena said, but she didn't seem that bothered by the accusation. "Everyone ready?"

They were. Serena looked them over one more time, her gaze critical. "Alright. Let me do all the talking, and no matter what you do, don't let anyone know you have that necklace."

"Obviously," Jewels said.

Serena ignored this, turning for the tent's entrance. "Let's go. And Sam, I just have to say one more time, you're very convincing as a chimney sweep. Want to stop and do a few fireplaces on the way?"

Sam gave her a dark look, and Natalie followed him as he stomped out of the tent after Serena, wondering how long it would take for him to finally snap and call the whole thing off. Hopefully he had more patience than he seemed to.

Natalie had wanted to ask what the "barracks" were, but everyone seemed very grim and quiet as soon as they left the tent. In any case, she soon found out. They moved away from the market, through winding streets, past shop windows and then through neighbourhoods. As they went, the houses grew smaller and more cramped together, until they were walking through roads that were little more than alleyways, rows of run-down buildings that seemed to lean on one another, on the verge of collapse. These streets were still full of life, but they were not the same types of people crowding them. Here there were drunks stumbling over the cobbelstones, their bottles out, some of them singing at the tops of their voices. And there were children who sat along the side, backs pressed to the walls, dressed in little more than rags. Men and women too, and they all held out hats or tin containers, begging for scraps. Groups of ragged women scurried this way and that, keeping close together as they went in and out of shops displaying their meager offerings through dirty windows.

Most disturbing of all though, were the men who shuffled through the crowds, dead-eyed, heads down. They all had the same inky black veins snaking through their arms and up onto their necks. Some of them were so covered that black patches had crawled onto their cheeks and faces. One of them stumbled into their path and didn't seem to notice when they skirted around him. His eyes were glassy, and almost completely black, and Natalie had to repress a shudder as she passed him. The black veins were like the ones the pirates had on their skin, but these men looked somehow worse. Pale and drawn. It was as if the black stuff, whatever it was, was slowly killing them.

"What is this place?" Natalie whispered, and Jewels, who was the closest, glanced over at her. Her expression was sad. "What happened to them?"

"It's called the barracks because it's where the refugees come. The major settlement here is soldiers who have escaped from the queen. But so many of them go through withdrawals from her magic and end up dying. So there are lots of widows and children. The city has programs to help them, but there are so many, and more coming every day."

Sam looked wary as they made their way through the streets, his head swivelling this way and that. He kept opening and closing his fists on the brush he was holding, like he might use it for a weapon if they were attacked. "I don't like this."

"They won't attack you," Serena said calmly. "They've got bigger things to deal with then a bunch of common workers showing up to get drunk."

"Desperation makes people do desperate things," Sam said, but he relaxed his grip on the brush and let it hang down by his side.

The building they were heading for was at the end of a long, crooked lane. It was also in a state of disrepair, but it was bigger than most of the other shops, and there was a sign out front that proclaimed it to be, "The Tipsy Pig".

"Nice," Gwen muttered. "Looks like a wholesome place." She gave Sam a sidelong look, perhaps expecting him to go on another rant about people drinking, but he was still glancing both ways down the street, brow creased.

The insides of the Tipsy Pig were no more promising than the outside had been. Natalie followed Serena and Sam in, and was instantly hit with a combination of terrible smells, the stench of unwashed sweaty bodies, and the musty pang of stale beer. The bar was at the far end of the space, long enough to boast eight rickety looking stools, and above it hung wrought iron lamps on thick black chains, casting flickering shadows on the walls. No doubt it was kept dim in here to disguise the dirt. Even in the faint orange light Natalie could see the sticky patches on the floors, and the way the booths on the sides of the room were covered in beer stains, and in some places what looked suspiciously like dried blood.

"Welcome to the Pig," Serena said. "Go wait at the bar while I talk to Sunshine. Pray they're feeling sociable tonight." She waved them toward the bar, which was a wide, wrap-around counter covered in glasses and sticky puddles of questionable liquid.

"The Pig" as Serena called it, was quite crowded, and they pushed their way past a few groups of burly men as they moved for the bar. Natalie's chest clenched as a couple of the men looked up at them. They gave the three women an appraising glance, and Natalie's skin crawled when it was her turn. But after this they seemed to lose interest, going back to their conversation. Serena had been right, their drab clothing served as a kind of camouflage in this place.

They made their way over to the bar, with Sam still in the lead. "We should order something," he said, though he looked disgusted just saying it. "To avoid looking suspicions."

"Ale is cheap." Gwen slid onto one of the bar stools, beckoning Natalie to sit between her and Sam. "Here, sit in the middle. And be careful not to look at any one person for too long. Folks around here can see that as interest."

"Or a challenge," Sam added. He gestured at the bar tender, holding up four fingers for ale, and the man behind the bar, a burly fellow with a bright red beard, nodded and turned to his taps, filling up a series of smudgy glass mugs.

Sam smoothed one hand over his mouth and chin, probably, Natalie thought, trying to keep his distaste from being too obvious. She personally didn't think much of the idea of drinking out of one of the mugs, or frankly, anything that had come from behind the bar. Now that she was leaning forward on the bartop she could see behind the counter slightly and it was filthy back there, layered in dirt and spills and in a few patches, something that looked suspiciously like dried blood.

The barkeep returned and slid four glasses across to them, and Sam dipped into his leather bag, grimacing a little before he handed over a few copper coins.

Natalie received her glass with a nod of thanks, and lifted it enough to inhale the scent, which was sharp and a little woodsy. She was debating whether to try it or not when there was the sharp click of footsteps, and they looked up to see Serena returning. She was not alone this time though, there were several men behind her, both of them as tall as Sam was, maybe taller.

Serena's face was totally blank, it was impossible to know if this was a good sign or not. She reached the bar and put a hand on Sam's shoulder, leaning down to say something in a low voice in his ear. He nodded and stood up, and one of the men stepped forward. Natalie blinked as the burly man began to pat Sam down, running his palms briskly over his chest and shoulders.

"Go ahead with the others," Serena told the other man, and then nodded at them. "Up you get, ladies. He'll be gentle, right York?"

The second man only grunted, his face carefully blank as he repeated the process being done to Sam on Gwen and then Jewels. When it was Natalie's turn she stood stiffly, face glowing. She'd had pat downs in airports before, she told herself this was no worse. The man doing it didn't look any more pleased about it than she was. But still, standing in the middle of a bar getting a pat down seemed strange...to say the least.

The man stepped away from her and nodded to his partner, who finally spoke. His voice was a deep baritone. "She'll see your friends now. You've got ten minutes."

They were lead to a booth in the corner after this. It was away from any of the windows, and so it was darker than the rest of the pub. There was a frame over the top of it too, with a ragged red curtain draped over it, giving the people sitting there some privacy. Sam looked like he was about to move toward it, and one of the men put a hand on his chest. For a moment Sam looked a little like he was considering snapping the man's fingers off. Instead, he let his shoulders relax and stepped back, and they waited for a couple of long seconds in silence. At last someone emerged from the red curtain, a tall, thin man with an over-abundance of freckles.

"Sunshine will see you now."

For someone nicknamed Sunshine, Natalie thought the whole thing was a bit creepy. The freckled man beckoned them to move forward, and they passed through the curtain and slid into the booth just behind it, Sam on the far end, and Natalie in the middle, with Jewels and Gwen on the other side. Serena stayed outside the curtain, apparently content to wait for them.

The person seated across from them was almost entirely in shadow. Natalie couldn't tell how tall they were, or if they were broad or slender, she could only make out a hooded figure, one which remained completely still the entire time they were getting settled in.

Apparentlythe name Sunshine was some type of dark irony