reluctantly reviewing your victories to Father. He sounded rather put out, claiming that you'll clog all his jail cells before the magistrate can deal with the cases. Father suggested he should just have a watch patrol and a magistrate follow you around, and we could dispense with the jail and send the Night Masks right to the dungeons.'
Alias shook her head. ^Pm afraid they'd make too much noise and warn off our prey.'
'Hadn't thought of that,' Victor replied. 'I guess that's why you're the pro. At any rate, the performers seem to be right. You are giving the Faceless a drenching.'
'We've made a start,' Alias replied, trying not to overemphasize their progress. 'So what brings you here?' she asked. 'Well, Family Dhostar is commissioning a new trading ship tomorrow evening and capping the event with a party on board. I'd like to extend an invitation for you to be my guest at the party.'
Alias shifted uncertainly, remembering how Luer Dhostar had reprimanded his son yesterday for planning to have dinner with her. 'Does this invitation come from your father as well?' she asked.
'Father? Why do you-' Victor paused as insight dawned on him. 'Just because my father hired you for your sword, I don't see why I shouldn't have the chance to practice my courtly graces on you. Unless, that is, you'd object to that?' Although Victor's voice sounded light, there was the trace of nervousness in his question.
Alias flushed, but she recovered her composure quickly. 'I can't think of any objections. I would be delighted to accept your invitation.'
Victor broke into a smile. 'Good. Um. Will Dragonbait be chaperoning you?' Alias gave the paladin a questioning glance.
'Trapped on a ship filled with partying merchants and traders?' the saurial harrumphed. 'I'm sure I can find a less tedious way to spend my evening. But you go without me if you think it might amuse you.' 'Dragonbait says, 'No, thank you,' Alias replied.
'Well, then, that's settled. I'll send my carriage tomorrow around sunset. Dress is semiformal. No need for armor. Weapons must be peace-bonded. I'm afraid I won't see you again before the party. I have several pressing duties.'
'I understand. I'll look forward to tomorrow night,' Alias replied, offering him her hand.
Victor took up her hand and bowed low over it. Alias could feel his breath on her wrist. He stood again, but seemed reluctant to release her hand.
'Until tomorrow evening,' the swordswoman replied, drawing her hand away ever so gently.
'Until tomorrow evening,' the noble replied. He spun about and waded away through the crowd.
Dragonbait studied the swordswoman. For the first time since he'd known her, Alias seemed oblivious to her surroundings. He might have taken the opportunity to remind her they were in the heart of Westgate, a town whose hobby was crime, home of the deadly Night Masks, but he didn't have the heart to spoil her moment of bliss. On stage, the halfling song was winding down with one final verse: 'The Thalavars are nettled By nasty Night Mask boasters They need to get an Alias Just like the lucky Dhostars!'
Alias went red, hearing the lyrics, while the crowd applauded and stomped feet.
'Let's get nearer the stage,' the swordswoman said. 'I want to make sure Jamal got Mintassan's message that we wanted to talk tp her. We need to find out how she knows so much about the city and the Night Masks. And watch your purse in this crowd. Night Masks work the day shift, too.' Dragonbait chuckled and nodded.
Nine
'So you want to know how I know so much about the Night Masks,' Jamal said as she turned over the cool, wet I cloth covering her swollen ankle. 'It's not that complicated, really.' The thes-I pian paused, assuring herself that she held her audience's complete attention. Dragonbait leaned forward on his stool. Alias fidgeted impatiently, hating Jamal's theatrics. Although the actress had refused to let Dragonbait heal her injury, she had accepted the adventurers' help back to Mintassan's. Now they were seated once again in the mismatched chairs around the heavy table in the sage's cluttered workroom. 'I have the sense the gods gave geese,' Jamal said. Mintassan, who hovered in the doorway of the side alcove waiting for the tea water to boil, called out, 'Are those the geese that walk barefoot in burning buildings and then jump out of crow's nests for the amusement of the rabble?'
Jamal shot an annoyed glance at the sage. She turned back to the swordswoman and the paladin. She motioned them to lean closer, and when they had, she whispered, 'I listen carefully, and I know how to put two and two together.'
Alias leaned back and sighed. 'Could you maybe give us an example of putting two and two together?' she requested.
'First I consider my source of information. Take the halflings. They have it in for the Night Masks, and not just because the Masks exclude them from their guild. It goes back to a blood feud started when the Masks first sprang up in this town. Now while halflings aren't always reliable reporters, they aren't going to lie on behalf of the Masks. So if a halfling who works for Lady Nettel Thalavar tells me Her Ladyship won't pay protection to the Night Masks, I'm inclined to believe him. If all the halflings working for Lady Nettel confirm his story, I'm going to accept it as fact.
Then when a halfling tells me a certain type of misfortune strikes the Thalavar trading house, I consider who would benefit from such misfortune. If a Thalavar ship laden with goods sinks in the harbor, I suspect the Face-less's wrathful hand. If the ship sinks but it was emptied out first, I suspect that another merchant family hired the Night Masks tp pick up the goods for them. The merchants hate waste, even if it benefits them, with the exception, in my opinion, of Family Urdo. The year of the summer brushfires there was never quite enough corn to meet demand, but enough for House Urdo to make a killing.' 'So how do you know who to talk to?' Alias asked.
'Oh, I don't seek out my sources,' Jamal replied. They come to me. You see, I have many loyal fans, and, of course, some people just can't resist the temptation to see their story played out.'
'And others can't resist the five copper she pays per story,' Mintassan added as he joined them with the tea tray. 'So you're an information broker,' Alias stated.
'More of a collector,' Jamal corrected. 'I don't sell what I get, but I do put it on display-in my performances. Like a sage, I specialize. All things Westgate: local lore, noble gossip, Night Masks, the city's new cheap hero, Alias the Sell-Sword. Congratulations, by the way, on taking down Littleboy, and nabbing Timmy the Ghast and Bandilegs's bunch.' 'Who told you about all that?' Abas asked.
'Oh, I never reveal my sources. They trust me because of that,' Jamal explained as she accepted the teacup Mintassan handed her.
Alias thought of all the people who knew about her activities last night. The thieves themselves, the scullery maids, the Turmishmen, Big Edna and her customers, the watch, and no doubt lots of people looking down from windows, too afraid to go out at night, but curious enough to watch the street.
Jamal sipped her tea, then said, 'Littleboy's fall and Timmy's bath are part of our afternoon performance, if my stand-in thinks he's ready for the job.'
Alias sighed with exasperation. 'Why can't you tell stories about other heroes. The Knights of Myth Drannor, the Harpers, the Swanmays?'
Those are old legends,' Jamal argued. 'They're fine for summer stock theater. But a fresh, young, cheap hero, walking the street where people can point her out to, their children, that's going to inspire people. They've lived in silent fear of the Night Masks, certain the guild could never be defeated. You prove otherwise, and now they can't help but talk about you. Soon talk becomes action. I've already heard that last night, over on Thunn- side, a crowd pummeled three Night Mask bully boys who beat up a barmaid. They'll be part of the performance, too. Eventually there'll be cheap heroes popping up all over the city. Courage is contagious.'
'Courage can also be dangerous,' Alias pointed out, 'as you may have noted when they burned your house down.'
True,' Jamal agreed, 'but the Faceless won't focus on tiie anonymous cheap heroes. He'll focus on you.'
