It's that time of night, the time when everything goes quiet, like one long held breath, and the bustle and rustle of even the highest of houses falls still, sinking into that stretch of universal slumber.

But sleep she does not. Instead, Allayria sits up, tucked away in a study nestled in the far corner of the house, a single candle lit by the open window. She has a map out, a rough trace of the older, finer one Leo had lent her, and she's perusing all the notes he's made on it.

"Here's where the Jarles have hit so far," he had said. "Here's where we think they are going to. If you need help, you'll find battalions here, and here, and here. This is the house of an old friend, say my name and he'll give you shelter."

As predicted, the Urilongs have a wide net of friends, acquaintances, and allies. With Fae on her team, Leo will be a fairly dependable ally—trustworthy enough to be relied on to keep them safe, and with enough independent obligations (Fae) to keep him honest, if the others try to deceive her. He won't let them wander in anywhere blind, not while Fae is on the team.

But there are other avenues, other trails she needs eyes on, and she looks up just as the pale, slender fingers curl around the top of the window ledge, and a man slips into the room.

Clad in blacks and browns, Keno wears a scowl as he straightens up, his dark gaze darting around the walls, finding the cracks and crevices, looking for eyes.

"This is idiocy," he hisses, and he slides away from the window, back hunching slightly, as if waiting to be discovered. "Do you have any idea where you are?"

"I'm in the residence of the Urilong family," Allayria answers, unperturbed. She taps her pen on the edge of the map—the ink is running out and spotting. "Leo Urilong kindly offered this library to me when I requested a place with some privacy. His sister, Fae, advised me that the lock sticks if you twist it up, so we shouldn't be disturbed."

"And you thought it a good idea to invite me here?"

She glances up.

"Well, you thought it a good enough idea to come."

He curses, a hand raking through his hair, and then trudges over to the chair beside her, slumping down into it like a creature that wants to keep low to the ground.

"No one will bother you here," she continues. "Not while you're with me."

"I make it a habit to avoid places like this," he snaps back. "Don't draw too much attention to yourself, they told me. Know your limits, they said. But here I am, thanks to you. It doesn't matter if the Urilongs won't do anything to me right now: now they know I exist."

"I'm not so stupid as to tell them your name," Allayria murmurs. "Only Finn has seen your face, and he won't talk. It's in both our interests to keep these communications as private as possible."

"By asking me to scale the wall of one of Solveigard's richest families' mansion? How cozy."

She glances up at him.

"I could not go back to the Hanged Man; someone would notice. It was important that we meet face-to-face at least one last time, before I go back."

He doesn't answer immediately, and when he does, he only asks: "You were successful, then?"

She taps her pen again, but the parchment remains unblemished: the ink has run out.

"Yes," she says, more of a sigh than a word, and she sits back, crossing her legs. She passes her hand over a candle, swirling its flickering tip around in slow circles.

"What do you want now?"

She looks over at him, taking in his narrowed eyes and tense hands, the fingers fidgeting at the ends of his armrests.

"I want fingers on the pulse of Solveigard's finest underbelly," she answers, "I'd prefer the pulse of the whole eastern side of Keesark, but I know you like to keep things quiet."

She shifts, sinking further into the chair. It really is plush, and by far the most comfortable thing she's sat on in weeks.

"I'd like to be frank with you," she says, pulling her feet up and tucking them into the chair. "Fine china and featherbeds are all very nice, but I know where the rumblings of trouble start, and as nice as it is to have information served to me on a silver platter, courtesy of all my new, shiny friends, I also know they like to trim the ugly parts out, just to make the presentation all the prettier."

Their eyes meet.

"Don't tell me they've given you a reason to mistrust them already," he drawls, his wide mouth twisting into a smile.

"I have plenty of reasons not to trust anyone at all," she answers. "I want to make sure I'm getting the truth, not a version tailored to what serves everyone else's best interests."

"And you think I'll give you the truth?" he rejoins, his brow arching. "Kings and generals are liars, but the thief will tell you the whole, unvarnished truth."

"Yes," she answers, "because the thief knows he may not be the only one whispering in my ear, and the thief knows it will be worse for him if he lies than if a king does."

His mouth twitches at that, a flicker of a smile that warps into a grimace.

"I thought we were friends—"

"Friends? You were talking of thieves and kings," Allayria shoots back. "If we talk of friends then it's obvious that a true friend will tell their friend the truth. No matter what."

Fire sparks on her fingertips and she lets it shimmer there, flickering on one finger and then the next.

"Friendship is also a symbiotic relationship," she continues. "Or so I've been told. I haven't had the best experience with it, I'm afraid."

"And what does the truth-teller get for delivering all the bad news?" Keno asks, his black eyes following the flames, expression impassive.

"A sharp eye with a very convenient blind spot and a cozy relationship with one of the richest families in Solveigard," Allayria replies. "And more, later, if they want. Thieving isn't known for its career longevity."

He props an ankle on one knee and sits back.

"I want a castle," he says. "A really big one."

Allayria snorts.

"And a title," he continues, tapping a finger on his lips. "I'd like to be lord of something."

"How original." She throws him a pointed look. "You know that's not something that is going to happen overnight."

He smiles.

"I'm a patient man."

"And here I thought you didn't bank on big 'ifs' like that," she drawls.

"Usually, but a smartass once pointed out that it's a better business decision to stay friendly with the people who bring you back pretty artifacts and have a vested interest in keeping you safe from snotty, rich mouth-breathers."

She smiles and pulls out a thin, metal bracelet, tossing it over to him. He catches it easily, his long fingers curling around the plain band and flipping it around so it's a flash of silver in the candlelight.

"Presents already? I'm afraid you have to do better than this; I'm a man of expensive tastes."

"It's not always about looks," she answers. "Put it on."

He hesitates a moment and then slides it on, twisting it around with his other hand. His eyes, sharp and calculating, shoot up and lock on her face when he feels the press of the metal against his wrist.

"Since you can't Skill it's unfortunately a one-way communication, but at the very least I can warn you immediately if something happens," she says. "We'll have to find a more traditional way to send your replies. Maybe a bird."

His dark eyes narrow.

"Don't you dare. For the love of all that is good, at least send a cat." He glances back down at his wrist. "Is this the freakiest thing you can do, or should I be prepared to be unnerved every time we meet?"

A smile cracks on her face once more.

"You never know what I'll pick up on my travels." Her smile quiets, and then she asks: "So do we have a deal?"

He twists that bracelet once more and then nods.

"Swear it," she demands. "Swear it to me."

And so he does.

A/N: Shout out to all the Keno fans out there; all the love gave me some ideas for the slippery fiend's involvement in next book. (And this one.)

Yes, I'm cackling, but its only a little bit.

Chapter notes: the sass from the hereto unnamed "smartass" (I wonder who that could be)  is a callback to "The Things We Never Wanted to Know" chapter of Paragon. Speaking of which: 60K on Paragon! I feel like I was just freaking out about 50K.