In the Claws of the Tiger by James Wyatt

them.
    “You think Krael was behind it?” Mathas asked.
    “Of course he was,” Janik said. “And I think it was probably Krael himself for a change, not some lackey doing his dirty work. He knew exactly which books to take.”
    “So he’s definitely planning his own expedition to Mel-Aqat,” Dania said.
    “No doubt. And interfering with our plans in every way he can.”
    “It’s not a great blow to our expedition, is it?” Mathas asked, peering a little too keenly at Janik.
    “No,” Janik replied quickly. “We had enough historical background to make the trip last time, and we still haveeverything we need. I had hoped to refresh my memory on some details, but it’s no great loss. Quite a loss to me personally,” he added ruefully. “Those books are very rare and cost a lot of money.”
    “You’ll get them back sooner or later,” Dania assured him. “If I have anything to say about it, Krael will not survive his trip to Xen’drik.”
    Janik smiled warmly at her enthusiasm. “So, how are our preparations coming? Do we have a letter of marque?”
    “We do,” Dania said with a smile, “and you were absolutely right about the nice gentlemen at the Antiquities Bureau.”
    “I hope they didn’t give you too much of a hard time.”
    “Oh, no. They were patronizing as anything,” she rolled her eyes, “giving me a load of, ‘Xen’drik is a dangerous place, are you sure you’re up to it?’ But your name and my dress”—she indicated the moderately low neckline of the midnight blue dress she was wearing—“got the documents approved in no time.”
    “I’m glad it wasn’t too arduous,” Janik said, trying hard not to look at Dania’s collarbone, suddenly overwhelmed by a memory of the feel of her skin. Mathas was half-covering a grin with one hand. “And the Wayfinders?”
    “Ah.” Dania’s smile faded. “Unfortunate news from the Wayfinder Foundation. They did, in fact, send an expedition to Mel-Aqat, hoping to supplement the flow of information that, they felt, was not coming fast enough out of Morgrave University.”
    “In other words, I’m not publishing fast enough to please them.”
    “No one could publish fast enough to please them,” Dania said. “I must say, I was a little surprised to learn how popular Mel-Aqat still is.”
    “It was a very major find—a large explosion in my little world of scholarship,” Janik said.
    “Anyway,” Dania said, “the expedition left Stormreach nine months ago. No word has come back. The team is feared lost.”
    “Sovereigns,” Mathas swore under his breath.
    “Well,” Janik said after a moment, “perhaps we’ll find them.” His voice was flat, holding little trace of optimism. “Or at least learn of their fate.”
    It was never pleasant to be reminded of the risks they faced every time they ventured into the wilds of Xen’drik. Janik and his friends had cheated death more times than they could count, always escaping the Keeper’s fangs through wits, skill, or sheer blind luck. Apparently the Wayfinders had not shared their luck. Looking at Mathas and Dania, Janik could tell they were both thinking similar thoughts.
    He lifted his wine glass and forced a grim smile onto his face. “Here’s to dodging the fangs of the Keeper one more time.”
    Mathas and Dania touched their glasses to his. “To survival,” Mathas said. Dania briefly closed her eyes but said nothing.
    “Speaking of survival, Mathas,” Janik said, “did you get a good start on our food stores for the trip?”
    “I got more than a good start,” the elf replied. “I think I’m done. And I found an artificer I want you to meet.”
    “Did you?” Janik was surprised.
    “Someone we can trust?” Dania asked, looking skeptical. “I believe so,” Mathas replied. “His name is Auftane Khunnam.”
    “A dwarf?” Janik asked.
    “Yes, though he was born and raised in Stormreach,” Mathas said. “He has traveled extensively—he impressed me with the