By the time Alias woke up the next morning, Drag-onbait was gone. By nature, the saurial was most active at dawn and dusk, and he never seemed to need much sleep in the warm season. Alias, on the other hand, felt most active after dark and would sleep the morning away whenever she had an excuse. She wondered which of her creators had established this pattern in her. Finder, as an entertainer, would have kept the same sort of hours, but so would the Fire Knives, who had expected her to become an assassin like them.
Alias rolled over and sat up. Someone had set breakfast on the table. The swordswoman vaguely recalled having heard a knock on the door and Mercy's voice earlier in the morning. The young half-elf must have lost her fear of the saurial. Alias padded over to the table. Once again breakfast consisted of tea, fresh-baked muffins, and fruit, but today she had time to admire the details she'd missed yesterday. The china teapot and teacup were nearly translucent and gleamed like mother-of-pearl; the butterfwas molded into clamshell shapes; decorating the bowl of berries were pieces of melon cut and shaped like dragonflies. There was a fresh-cut red rose in a bud vase of frosted glass. Alias could see why this particular inn did not advertise among adventurers; they generally wolfed down food without looking at it and were notoriously hard on china and glassware.
Alias sat down to eat, musing over yesterday afternoon's events, starting with the meeting she and Drag- onbait had had with Mintassan. The experience had tested her patience and her conversational skills to their limits. They'd started with the requested conversation about saurials. The sage had asked Dragonbait so many questions, even Alias had learned things about saurials she hadn't known before. When, after at least an hour, Mintassan had shifted the topic to Alias's background, she'd turned the tables and started grilling him about his theory on the transmutation of creatures into other creatures. Finally, when she felt she'd learned enough about the beasts of the Prime Material and Outer Planes to qualify as a sage's apprentice and had Mintassan at ease, she'd shifted to the topic of the Night Masks.
To her disappointment, it soon became evident that Mintassan, like most sages, lived in his own little world. His understanding of the city's problems came to him secondhand. 'Mostly,' so he said, 'from Jamal.' Although he confirmed Durgar's claim that the Night Masters and the Faceless could not be located with magic, he did not concur with the priest that they did not exist. His reasoning, though, had more to do with Jamal's certainty that they did than with any firsthand experience. Jamal, Alias realized, was the 'sage' she needed to consult to learn more about the Night Masks.
Mintassan had walked them back to Blais House for dinner. They'd ordered the recommended pan-fried prawns, which were indeed excellent. Mintassan was also a gourmand, and during their discussion of Westgate eating establishments he revealed one useful piece of information. He'd mentioned the extortionist Littleboy, who was apparently responsible for the decline of one of Mintassan's favorite taverns. The sage had left them with a promise to set up a meeting with Jamal, and after a brief nap Alias and Dragonbait had gone out hunting Night Masks.
Abas began dressing, reflecting on her progress against the Night Masks. They'd come across the midden man and several muggers and purse snatchers, thanks to Drag-onbait's shen sight. Without the paladin, Littleboy might have been her only coup, and if the extortionist hadn't been such a fool to use a poison ring, the watch might not have arrested him. She needed more informants.
She also needed to start watching her back. So far, she and Dragonbait hadn't challenged anyone with a stomach for fighting, let alone any real skill with a weapon. That was bound to change soon, she realized. Even if it meant bringing in hired help, the Night Masks would find ways to protect their operatives and try to stop the swordswoman and her companion.
Alias was brushing her hair when Dragonbait finally turned up. The vanilla scent of amusement wafted off his body, and he made a strange clicking noise that Alias recognized as chuckling.
'Well?' Alias said, fastening the longer strands of hair at the nape of her neck with a ribbon. 'Are you going to let me in on it?' 'I was checking on Jamal's troupe's new play. Come down and see.' Although the paladin tried to sound casual, Alias could tell he was itching for her to come.
Alias sighed. 'You always did have this childlike fondness for puppet shows.' She buckled on her scabbard. and grabbed the last muffin to munch while she watched the show.
They did not have to go far. Jamal's troupe had set up stage on the foundation of the burned down warehouse only three blocks from Blais House. A large crowd had gathered in the empty lot around the razed building.
A halfling with a gigantic green plume in his hat was juggling eggs. A green feather, Alias recalled, was the trading badge for the Thalavar family. Jamal must have good relations with the halflings of this town, Alias realized. Usually halflings' wouldn't participate in human theatrics, and human producers cast children with brushes tied to their feet in the eoles of the smaller people.
Behind the stage bobbed the cutout of a ship. The crow's nest, though, was real, and from it the Faceless looked down at the halfling. After a moment, the Faceless tossed an egg at the halfling, which the halfling skillfully added to the three it was juggling. The Faceless added a fifth and then a sixth egg, which the halfling also juggled smoothly. Frustrated by the halfling's dexterity, the Faceless threw a seventh egg stage left. The egg splattered against a great wagon wheel decorated with golden stars-house Dhostar's trading badge. The wheel began spinning and moved toward the juggling halfling with a menacing growl. The halfling alternated between alarmed looks in the wheel's direction and tucking eggs in his pockets even as he juggled them. Before he could dispose of the last three eggs, the wagon wheel rolled into him, forcing him off the stage. The eggs hit the stage, plop, plop, plop, and then there was a splash of water up onto the stage.
The actress playing Alias leaped onto the stage. She waggled her finger at the Dhostar wheel. The wheel whined like a shamed puppy. The heroine pulled out a stage axe and began hacking at the mast holding the Faceless's crow's nest. One by one, the Night Masks began to attack her, but, one by one, she knocked them out with a quick bonk on their heads with the side of her axe.
'Now,' Dragonbait said excitedly, tugging on her sleeve.
Rising out of the water beside the ship came the halfling, pulled by someone in a costume that looked as if it had been put together from the parts of two other costumes, one the body of a crocodile, the other the head of a horse (now painted green). Alias laughed out loud. It was nothing like Dragonbait, but it could be no one else. She shot a look at her companion, who looked as proud as a new father.
The halfling was really damp, and he carried a bucket that appeared full. The stage Alias finally got the crow's nest chopped through, but the Faceless leaped down beside her at the last moment. Jamal landed a little awkwardly, though, and fell on her rear end. When the heroine had to help the villain to 'his' feet, the audience applauded and roared with laughter. The halfling strode purposefully toward the Faceless, with his bucket poised for attack. The actor playing Dragonbait grabbed the Faceless's cloak. The Faceless tried to run, but succeeded only in limping quickly in circles around the stage Dragonbait as the halfling chased after him.
The girl playing Alias led the crowd in jeers as the Faceless tried to avoid being soaked. Finally, she and the halfling cornered the Faceless at the very front of the stage. The halfling swung the bucket forward just as the Faceless ducked. As one, the audience near the stage held up their hands to hold back the expected splash of water.
A cymbal crashed, and the bucket rained a spray of shiny blue confetti over the crowd.
The audience cheered and applauded, and those who'd just avoided a drenching cheered the loudest. The stage Alias and Dragonbait each set a foot on the Faceless's prone form and took their bows. Then they dragged the Faceless off the stage by her arms, leaving the halfling to lead the crowd in one of those interminably long Halfling songs. Alias recognized the chorus, but the lyrics of the verses had been twisted into a commentary on House Thalavar's supposed cheapness: 'Some say the Thalauars are fools, But I think they're pretty bright. They hire halflings by their weight, But pay them by their height!'
'You look insufferably pleased with yourself,' Alias noted to her companion as the crowd bellowed the song's chorus.
'A small part, but vital to the plot,' Dragonbait replied. 'Given time and good reviews, I could see that character carrying the entire' show. On the whole, I think its a valuable artistic inclusion.'
'Well, patron of4he arts, I suppose your fifty gold was well spent. I wonder where Jamal gets all her information.'
'I was wondering that myself,' Victor Dhostar said behind them.
Abas spun about in surprise. 'However did you find us in this crowd?'
'I saw you leaving your inn and followed you here. I've just come from the Tower, where Durgar was
