Garrett is restless. He stirs in his sleep. The Cylix of Jortul gleams in the gush of predawn streetlamps. From the open window he can smell the sea and knows Murkbell is
only a bowshot away.
(Aint it great being bad?)
So Garrett slips out of bed, takes the Cylix with him and hits the wet dark streets in search of a fence. He finds a pawnshop before sunrise whose owner knows of a buyer, a
certain Duchess Suedomsa.
Is it his imagination that the shopkeeper’s eyes betray an infernal gleam as he studies the ill-gotten relic?
Garrett senses something might go wrong so he decides to call on an old friend and make preparations for the sale scheduled later that night.