“More than fair,” Qurrah said. “I thank you for taking us in. It is more than we had hoped for.”

“Well, you might have hoped for beds,” Tarlak said, gesturing to the crates. “But we’ll see what we can do.”

Harruq waved an arm at all the miscellaneous things. “Where’s this going to go?”

“Good question. Ever seen a portable hole?”

Both shook their heads.

“Well, neither have I, but I plan on buying one tomorrow. I’ll consider it a one-time cost to hire you into our fold. For now, just shove aside all our crap and make yourselves at home.”

“I doubt this place will ever feel like home,” Harruq said.

“Yes, the roof doesn’t leak,” Qurrah muttered.

“Give it a shot,” Tarlak said. “We might surprise you. Probably already have.”

“Given our past few days, it’s just one surprise of many,” Harruq said, surveying the junk that filled his room. His room. Of his home. Surprising didn’t begin to describe it all.

T arlak sat on one of the couches before the fireplace, a much-needed drink in hand. His hat lay next to him, his shoes kicked off.

“About time you poked your head out,” he said when his sister appeared, her priestess robes switched out for a more simple and comfortable tunic. “So many lonely hours down here eagerly awaiting feminine company.”

“I doubt it is my company you were hoping for,” Delysia teased. She scooted his hat over and sat down next to him.

“Is that necessary?” she asked, nodding at the drink.

“Absolutely,” he said. “I just invited a whole collection of freaks into my little home, and on what grounds?”

“You know why,” Delysia said.

“Do I?” Tarlak asked before draining the rest of the glass. “Are you sure that’s them? Maybe Ashhur wanted some other group.”