Akhmed, Jazhiria, and Omar followed the little creature through the maze of buildings somewhere between the dirtiest ghettos of the Clerk's Ward and the desolation of the Hive. At times it seemed as if they were far underground, so closely were the structures built. Tiny clusters of baleful eyes glared at them through shadowed holes, and strange and varied sounds rumbled from behind the walls, ground, and overhangs. At last they reached a small square courtyard where two perfectly square openings showed broader streets where beings strode about on their daily business. Beyond those, the only way out was the way they came or by scaling one of the walls, which were built from large blocks of salt and a kind of iron made up of many, many tiny blocks welded together, each with a gargoyle's head growing from it. The guide - or tout, as it called its profession - went up to one of the openings.

"There's the place you want through there," it said, gestering at a building. "Anyone have any metal on them?" it asked, its mouth showing large fangs. Akhmed couldn't tell what manner of creature it was, though it reminded him both of goblin-kind and of the careless, elemental mephits that swarmed through the city in frustrating numbers. It was wingless, and wore a neatly kept suit with puffy sleeves.

"We all have metal," said Jazhiria. "Though little left for you, as if we had not paid you twice your worth already."

"Not for me," the creature said in obvious annoyance. "This gate leads to the iron hell of Acheron. The key is any kind of metal. If you can't abandon it here, we'll have to go the long way around."

Akhmed swallowed. He knew too well what ignoring their guide's advice could cost them. "I can't leave Oath's Tooth," he said finally. It was a lie - the old sword hadn't even a name until just now - but it wouldn't do to let their greedy "tout" know how much they were really carrying if they were stuck with it for a while longer.

"Right then," the guide grinned. "We go the other way. No one has any turkey feathers, I assume?"

Looking shocked, Jazhiria pulled a long object from one of her pouches. "What if I do?" she asked.

"That information's five more silvers," it answered, looking sly.

"Forget it," she said, throwing it down in disgust. So much for her spell of flight, Akhmed thought sadly. When it hit the ground, Jazhria ground it beneath her heel.

"Follow me," the guide said in its normal cheerful tone. The passage was a good several cubits in length, and the party had to stoop slightly to get through. There were three steps before they reached the irregularly cobbled street. The low and jagged-roofed architecture beyond was mostly made from more salt blocks and the same sort of astonishingly complex iron, but the more he looked the more exceptions he saw were worked in. There were lots of carefully woven reeds and branches, parts of carts and other vehicles lovingly made into door and window frames, and even what looked unsettingly like bits of animal flesh and bone. The crowds were mainly human, or almost, but there were fairly large numbers of spidery eel-like things, tall hairy humanoids with long horns, intelligent-looking crabs made of ice, and angular beings that seemed to be made of faceted crystal. Spindly-limbed muzzled bipeds stared intently into incomprehensible objects levitating before them. Brave flocks of pigeons searched for edibles, desperation in their eyes.

The tout began speaking. "This borough is mainly built around the portal to Acheron and the door to the Sea of Frozen Lives fourteen blocks Skar and Spikeward. The Sea is mostly brine there, so lots of cutters bring through slush and make it into bricks. To your left is Naggy's Sea Scorpionry, where you'll find the most delicious archopods you'll ever eat. You're best off going now, in fact, 'cause none of the other shops you'll find have anything near as good. Avoid the bashers in the black, dripping armor - they're members of a renegade Mercykiller fraction from Acheron's third and fourth layers, and the city of Tantlin. They whisper that they don't recognize the government of Sigil, and they have only one punishment for those they find wanting - the forfeiture of memories. They're only found in this part of town, where no one dares report them."

"We'll skip the sea scorpions," said Akhmed, "and the thugs."

"You're really missing out on the first," said the tout, "though you're wise on the second." The road wound over itself, the shops and homes on this level casting shadows on the one before. "Most folk sell goods and services directly out of their homes here," it continued. "The Weeping Death tend to frown on people cluttering up the streets. One-armed Oscar can polish up ol' Oath's Tooth for you."

"That's not possible," Akhmed improvised. " No one can touch her but me." Omar and Jazhiria looked at him bemusedly. The tout sighed with exaggerated sorrow.

They came to a hole between two apartments that looked as if it had been carved out by an enormous burrowing beast. Darkness filled it, the path disappearing into the blackness. "This is as far as I go, kids," said their guide. "The tunnel will lead you right where you need to get, so long as nobody says anything until you're well beyond it. Me, I'm not going in there with people I've just met, not without a five-and-a-half gold danger fee. Remember, absolute silence until you can't see the tunnel anymore."

The party looked at one another. There were quite a few pedestrians strolling into the inky mouth as if they did it every day. "They don't seem worried," Omar pointed out.

"Yeah," the tout said, "but they're locals, see. They have their three clues, and maybe a few more. Sorry, but I've seen others burned before by travelers who didn't believe me. Don't forget what happened on the unwalled bridge."

Jazhiria gritted her teeth, and pulled out three gold. "This is the best we can do," she told the guide.

"I'm going to need at least another silver on top of that," the creature said. When it got it, it brought its smile back and led them through.