“A quester to Tubaygat can’t be denied the services of his chosen slave,” J’An said. “If you agree to travel with Jebel, there’s not a damn thing anyone can do about it. Your wife and children will also be assigned to him. Jebel will grant them their freedom before you leave.”

Murasa gasped and clutched her husband’s arm. He said nothing, only set his steady gaze on Jebel Rum and observed the boy silently.

Jebel thought about what J’An Nasrim had said and how the slave had called him a cur. Then he looked at J’An and said, “I don’t agree to this.”

“You have no choice,” J’An responded. “You need a slave. I’m offering you Tel Hesani. This is the price of his obedience.”

“If I set his family free, what’s to stop him killing me in my sleep and slipping away to join them?” Jebel asked.

“I give you my word that he won’t,” J’An growled.

Jebel lowered his head and placed his palm on his forehead. “I beg pardon, but your word isn’t enough. I don’t know this slave. I don’t like him. I certainly can’t trust him.”

“Listen to me, you young—” J’An roared.

“No,” Tel Hesani cut in. “The boy is right. He must have a real assurance.”

J’An let out a shaky breath. “Then you accept?” he asked Tel Hesani.

The slave shrugged. “I have already accepted death. Whether I die on the docks or on a crazy quest is of no consequence. But if I can save my family by going on the quest, then obviously I shall.”

J’An faced Jebel again. “What assurance will satisfy you?”

“I don’t know,” Jebel said, head in a spin.

“How about holding his family here for a year?” suggested J’An.

“And if Tel Hesani kills me tomorrow, then waits a year to link up with them?”

J’An cursed. “I’m sorry I ever offered to help. Let’s just forget about—”

“Wait,” Murasa said, speaking out of turn. All of the men looked at her in surprise. She was studying Jebel. Her eyes were bright green and her cheeks were fiery red. But her lips were pale as ice when she spoke. “Um Aineh have spirit witches, crones who can communicate with the dead, yes?”