“Pity the Saghred would eventually drive you insane,” Mago was saying. “Do you have any idea of how much money you could make with that much power?”
“Unless it’d be enough to buy back my sanity and life, everyone can keep their money.”
A sparkle of life—and avarice—lit Mago’s dark eyes. “Until we relieve them of it.”
That moment of bringing financial ruin to those threatening me and mine couldn’t come soon enough.
“When do we start?” I asked him.
“As soon as I get my land legs under me.” Mago paused and grimaced as if his stomach was considering doing something unpleasant. “And once I can keep a decent meal in me.”
We all wanted that. Phaelan nudged the bucket closer.
“I’m hopeful that I can attain both states of equilibrium by tonight,” Mago muttered. “I’m scheduled to dine with my affluent client this evening.”
I frowned. “He’s here already?” Call me paranoid, but most of the affluent people on Mid right now had a finger in the let’s-get-Raine-Benares pie.
“My client has some financial transactions he wants to conduct, and he will only do so in person. So your request to come to Mid couldn’t have come at a more convenient time.”
“Well, we wouldn’t want you to be inconvenienced on our account,” I told him.
Mago glanced toward the office’s windows. “His ship was not far behind mine.”
Phaelan was already looking out over the harbor. “Would that client be a crazy goblin bastard looking to get himself shot full of holes?”