Masrur shook off steel-edged feathers, wrinkling his nose at the bite of acid in the air as Hassan’s Fogblade dissolved some of their last attackers. The Fog Troupe wasn’t willing to risk both their lieutenants, and they’d known this would be close quarters, so Zainab had stayed behind to coordinate the Vessel-search. He almost wished she hadn’t. These weren’t the toughest Dungeon creatures he’d ever met, but they were dangerous enough; and making sure Sinbad kept himself in one piece was a lot easier with one more sane and canny person to help.
Right now Sinbad was cleaning his own battered sword with a rag and a grin. “Good. The way our luck’s been running, I was sure the Banker would be-”
A Fanalis’ scream rent the air; vibrating and lethally angry.
“-Home,” Sinbad said without missing a beat. “Ah. And he is.”
Masrur jumped down the ladder, trusting Sinbad would follow. His own curiosity would make sure of that.
“Not too fast,” Sinbad said, racing on his heels.
Not too fast? Granted he didn’t know much about his own people, but even a youngster like Morgiana wouldn’t scream without good cause-
Yet Sinbad’s hand was on his shoulder as they came in view of flickering flames, holding him back to watch Alibaba raise fire and magic against a dark-writhing door. “What a Metal Vessel User needs most is resolve.”