Musicians played on a low wooden platform against the far wall, mostly ignored by the custom. Sailors and dockworkers, Isyllt guessed, watching the people slouched on low benches or gathered loudly around the gaming tables. Wiry men and women, scarred and wind-scoured and plainly dressed, bronze skin and ocher, shades of black and brown. Ninayans and Sivahri and Assari alike laughed and gambled and drank bowls of beer, and none seemed less welcome than the others. She even saw a few fairer heads, from Hallach or lands farther north.

Xinai reappeared soon and led them across the room, toward a door beside the stage. As they moved down a narrow corridor, Isyllt heard the rattle of dice. They entered a cluttered storeroom and found a man sitting alone, rolling bones across a scarred table.

She’d known Teoma was a dwarf, but the leather cuff that capped his missing left forearm was a surprise. Dark eyes gleamed under heavy black brows as he glanced up at them.

“Good evening. Here for a game of chance?”

Adam’s lips curled. “Since when is there chance in your games, Izzy?”

The dwarf’s grin rearranged his creased face; lamplight winked off two gold teeth. “It’s dangerous to accuse a man of cheating.” He nodded toward his maimed arm. “Look what happened to me.”

He turned his eyes to Isyllt. “But if you haven’t come for the bones, what can I do for you?”

Isyllt twisted a red-gold ring off her finger and held it out. “Among blind men-” She gave the first half of the code in Selafaïn.

“The one-eyed reigns,” he finished. He reached out to clasp her hand and palm the ring in one smooth gesture.

As his calloused fingers touched hers, a shiver ran up her arm. Isyllt barely managed to keep her face still; no one had mentioned the man was a sorcerer. The sensation vanished so quickly she almost doubted her instinct, but his eyes narrowed as he studied her.