'And peace thereafter. Give me your vow that you and the Red Axes won't hold a grudge.'
'I swear by He Who Never Sleeps,' Kesk said with a sneer, 'and the Horde Leader that we won't hold this against you. But you'll run afoul of us again, and probably sooner rather than later. When that happens, I'll have your skull to make me a goblet.'
'We'll see.'
'So we will. Bring the book to my house. You have until sunset, and-'
Aeron snorted, then said, 'Do you think I'm stupid enough to walk into the dragon's cave? Call me timid, but I have a hunch I wouldn't come out again. Come midnight, put my father and the coin on board that pleasure barge of yours. Row out under the central span of the Arch of Gargoyles and drop anchor. If I see any of your henchmen on the bridge, or any bows, slings, or javelins on the boat, then you won't see me.'
'Agreed.'
'Then we're done,' Aeron said as he rose.
Kesk leered and said, 'You're forgetting the finger. Don't you want it? If not, maybe I'll have the cook fry it up.'
The human gave him a level stare, then, plainly thinking better of whatever it was he wanted to do or say, he turned away in a swirl of gray cape. Kesk watched, interested to see how Aeron would exit. Obviously, the thief had chosen the dining club because there were so many ways in and out. It was accessible through the Underways, at street level, and via Rainspans. It would be hard for even the most determined gang to lay a trap along every route.
Kesk hadn't tried. The trap, such as it was, was sitting just a few tables away, sipping tea, her cowl pulled up to cover her shaved scalp.
Kesk didn't know what to make of Dark Sister Sefris. He certainly didn't trust her, any more than he would have trusted anyone who professed allegiance to Shar. Humans and dwarves called his own gods, the deities of the orc pantheon, evil, but in fact, they were simply powers who granted their worshipers strength, plunder, and pleasure, the things every sensible person wanted. In contrast, the Lady of Loss, from what the tanarukk vaguely understood, sought the destruction of the entire world, her own followers included. Only a lunatic would pledge himself to a patron such as that.
Still, Sefris plainly did have useful talents, exactly as she'd claimed, and just as importantly, Aeron had no idea who she was. With luck, she could deal with him, Kesk would deal with her, and he could acquire the fortune in gems-if it even existed-either by trading honestly or cheating. Cheating, most likely. If he murdered the monastic, he could follow through on his deal with his original partner, and make that much more coin. Maybe even one day control all the illegal activity in Oeble, entirely unhindered by the Gray Blades, assuming he could trust the little weasel that far.
When he thought about it that way, it seemed as if a splendid future lay in store, but the complexity of the current situation irked him. It almost made him wish he'd told Aeron the truth from the start. Maybe if he had, the job would be over already.
The funny thing was, he wasn't even sure why he'd withheld so much information. To avoid scaring Aeron off, or shave his fee? Possibly. That was what he'd told himself, but he suspected he'd really done it out of spite, simply because he didn't like the human. If so, the impulse had worked against him. But in general, it was his determination never to forget a slight or injury, to do his foes a bad turn at every opportunity, which had made him the most powerful chieftain in Oeble's underworld, so he supposed it was an acceptable trade off.
Aeron climbed the stairs to the second floor. Unless he was planning to double back down again, he was headed for the Rainspans. Sefris took a final sip of tea, laid a silver piece on her table, and rose to follow.
Sefris knew any number of tricks for tailing a man without being spotted. More valuable than any technique, however, was the instinct that warned her when her quarry was going to look around. When Aeron reached the door, she sensed it was about to happen.
Fortunately, the upper stories of Slarvyn's Sword, like the ground floor, were crammed with decorations selected to please the sensibilities of warriors, adventurers, and those who enjoyed imagining themselves in such roles. She sidestepped behind the stuffed body of a peryton. The trophy was a fine specimen, its aquiline body more than eight feet long, and the antlers curving forward from its purple, staglike head, sprouting eight points each. It smelled faintly of some bitter substance the taxidermist had used to preserve it.
One of the sprites, a blue-skinned grig with the antennae and long, folded legs of a cricket, swooped in front of her and hovered. Evidently it had noticed her ducking into hiding, while she, intent on Aeron, had missed spotting it. It pointed its rune-carved wooden wand at her face.
She was reasonably certain she could swat it out of the air before it could speak the word that triggered the weapon, but perhaps not without attracting the hostile attention of its fellows.
'I'm not going to cause any trouble in here,' she said, keeping her voice low. 'What happens outside is no concern of yours.'
The grig regarded her for another moment, then gave a curt nod and flew away. In other places, the fey had a reputation for fighting 'evil,' but it seemed that in Oeble, even they thought twice about meddling in affairs that were none of their business.
Sefris stepped from behind the peryton. Aeron was gone. Through the door, presumably, though if he was as wily as his reputation indicated, maybe not. She strode to it and cracked it open.
It was all right. There he was, moving down the Rainspan. It wasn't necessarily the escape route Sefris would have chosen. If someone was chasing you, you could only flee in one direction. But by the same token, you only had to keep an eye out for foes straight ahead or directly behind.
Which meant Sefris couldn't afford to look like an enemy. She let him get a few paces farther ahead, then ambled out into the sunlight, gawking like a rustic to whom the towers and elevated pathways were a marvel.
At best, the pretence would fool Aeron for a little while. If he kept a sharp eye out, started and stopped, and doubled back as she expected him to, he was bound to mark her eventually. Her objective was to close to striking range before that happened, then drop him.
He paused as if to admire the view. She knew it would seem too much of a coincidence if she abruptly did the same, so she kept on strolling. Once she was close enough, her nerves fairly sang with the urge to strike him. Alas, other people were nearby. In all likelihood, it would be easy enough to kill them if they were so foolish as to intervene, but it was more sensible to be patient and wait until she and her prey were alone. She passed on by.
At the end of the bridge, steps twisted up and down around the outside of a spire built of crumbling brick, and a door led into the interior. She had no way to predict which way Aeron would choose, and therefore climbed to the start of another rickety Rainspan a story higher. At least from that vantage point, she could count on seeing where he went.
As he neared the tower, she reflected that she could spin a chakram down and hit him. She had a perfect shot, and the folk with whom they'd shared the bridge were entering Slarvyn's Sword. The only thing that deterred her was that the razor-edged rings were made for maiming and killing, not simply stunning a man helpless. Despite her skill, she might conceivably hurt Aeron so severely that he wouldn't be able to reveal the location of the book.
A spell, however, was a different matter. She plucked a pinch of sand from her pocket, tossed it into the air, and murmured the charm that would put a victim, or even several, to sleep.
A dimness seethed about her, the Shadow Weave manifesting itself even in the midst of the bright sunlight. Power whispered. But Aeron kept right on walking. He had a strong spirit, or was merely lucky, for somehow he'd resisted the spell, probably without ever even realizing he was under magical attack.
Well, she'd get him next time. When he reached the tower, he started down around the outside, in a moment disappearing around the curve of the rounded wall. As she headed after him, she saw a shaggy-headed ruffian skulk from the dining club. She assumed it was her own shadow. Kesk lacked subtlety, but had sense enough to try to ensure that she wouldn't get hold of The Black Bouquet and vanish.
The Red Axe-or Whistler, or member of some other gang beholden to the tanarukk-was of no importance at the moment. Sefris would kill or evade him when the time came. She had to keep up with Aeron, and she hurried down the side of the tower, knowing that until he came into view below her, he couldn't see her, either.
The problem was that he never did appear, not on the steps or on the ground underneath, either, and by the
