Changes

that thief here, the only person he would have to follow would be the same thief.

Nikolas nodded at a ladder in the corner. ::Hatch at the top.::

Mags trotted over to the ladder and skittered up it, feeling quietly gleeful that Nikolas trusted him to go after this woman. There was indeed a hatch at the top, bolted from this side. He pulled it up and dropped it down, poking his head up into the darkness above.

It was an attic. He hauled himself up into it, and in the light coming up from below, he saw the outlines of a roof-door.

::Find the door?:: Nikolas asked.

::Aye. Lemme git ’er open, then ye kin close up from below.:: The door to the roof opened outward; he checked and saw that it would lock again when he closed it. ::Aight. I’m good.::

He heard the ladder creaking, then the hatch closed and the bolt shot home. He was on his own. He levered himself out onto the sloping roof and shut the door quietly. No use alerting anyone to the fact that there was someone crawling about on the roof.

He took his bearings and started out, moving as quickly as he could. He just hoped that when he got there, he’d have figured out an excuse to talk to her. Or Nikolas would have.

Hmm. When he’d been snooping around as the blind beggar, he’d noticed that not all “house” girls stayed in the House to practice their trade. Trusted ones were allowed to visit clients. ::Maybe Peg’ll send ’er girls out, fer a price.:: he suggested to Nikolas.

::If the price is right, I am certain she would send her girls out to entertain performing bears,:: came the cynical reply. Mags snorted. From what he knew, Nikolas was probably right.

::I c’ld be errand boy, settin’ somethin’ up then.:: That would make sense; a man with the means to hire a girl for the evening would also have the means to hire a boy to go out and make the arrangements for him.

This was an excellent part of town for roof-running. The buildings were crammed too close together for anything bigger than a rat to pass between them. Mags could basically scuttle along without anyone seeing him, as long as he didn’t make more noise than a large cat. This was all very familiar: the feel of slates and tiles and the occasional thatched roof under his hands and feet, balancing on the slope, basically going on all fours with three points of contact on the roof at all times—

Since these roofs were inspected yearly for chimney issues—a fire in this part of town would be a complete disaster, because it would spread for blocks in no time at all—they were in good repair, even if the interiors left a lot to be desired. There weren’t a lot of thatched roofs here; they were more prone to fires. Mags vaguely remembered that house and shop owners were being pressured to get rid of them. A pity, since they were easier to scramble across.

Then again, that was probably a reason that could be used to get them replaced. If he could do it, a thief would find it ridiculously easy.

Nikolas sent him another thought. ::There’s money sewn in the hem of your jerkin. It’s enough to get Peg’s attention. See if she’ll send Senla to the Owl and Firkin. It’s close, and I can be there soon enough. The Weasel has gone out to a tavern for food now and again on a slow night.::

Mags gave his wordless assent. These roofs were absolutely ideal for what he was doing, even the ones that weren’t thatched. Although they were steep, they were also broken up by chimney pots and dormers, to make the most use of the attic space. There was more than enough light for him to see his way up here, with a full moon and no clouds. He didn’t even have to fight chimney smoke; any cooking was over and done with at this time of night.

He was mortal glad to get out of that stuffy shop and out in the fresh air.

And he took his time. It wasn’t more than a few blocks to this house, and there was no real hurry to get there, so he could test each foot- and handhold, making very sure of them before he trusted his weight to roof or handhold. Down below, there were still a few people out and about. This part of Haven actually came to life after dark. Those who lived here worked from dawn to dusk and only had time to get their own business done when the sun went down.

He was literally on the roof of the house next door to Peg’s when he heard a commotion below him. There was an altercation going on at the front door—but that wasn’t what was interesting. What was interesting was that a few moments after the to-do started, he saw a back door open from the inside. A big, burly man held it open while a woman carrying a pack slipped out. It looked to him as if the altercation was being staged—there was a lot of shouting and some wild swinging of fists going on, but he wasn’t sensing anger, and none of the swings were connecting. A distraction to keep anyone from going to see what was happening at the back door?

If it was, then the woman was leaving with the cooperation of at least some of the other inmates of the house.

Acting on a hunch, he followed her. She kept to the alleys, and from the way she was moving, she was trying very hard to keep from attracting any attention.

If that ain’t Senla, I’ll eat Dallen’s hay.

::You stay out of my hay!:: He sensed Dallen peering down through his eyes. ::I would say you are correct.::

::Now why d’ye think she’d be runnin’?:: he asked.

::More to the point, why would one of the ‘house enforcers’ be helping her? The proprietors of such places tend to make sure that the loyalty of their men is firmly with the owner and not the women. After all, if there are going to be any disputes, the owner wants the ones with the muscles enforcing her will, not siding with the hirlings.:: He sensed Dallen thinking some things over. ::I’d have to say the owner knew about what just happened. There is no way it could be kept quiet. Not with all the shouting at the front, and the mock-fight.::

::Then this Peg person had t’ hev ordered ’im t’help ’er git. An’ ordered up yon fight, so’s t’distract any’un what was watchin’.:: That seemed the only possible conclusion.

::Exactly so.:: Dallen went silent for another moment, probably thinking.