especially the gaping dark hole of Quip Younger’s mouth.
A drunk was lying just inside the door, passed out or dead, the only other pa-tron present this early in the morning (excepting the rat).
When she finally brought her attention back to her companions, she saw Faint studying her, one brow lifting.
Sweetest Sufferance rubbed at her round face, her cheeks reminding her, oddly enough, of the dough her mother used to knead just before the harvest festival, those big round cakes all glittering with painted honey that used to trap ants and it was her task to pick them off but that was all right because they tasted won-derful.
‘Hungry again, aren’t ya?’
‘You can always tell,’ Sweetest Sufferance replied.
‘When you rub your cheeks, there’s a look comes into your eyes, Sweetie.’
Faint watched as Master Quell hissed awake with a sound no different from the noise an alligator might make when one stepped too close. And glared round 1 moment before relaxing into a relieved slump. ‘I was dreaming-’
‘Yah,’ cut in Faint, ‘you’re always dreaming, and when you ain’t dreaming, you’d doing, and now if only those two things were any different from each other, why, you’d actually get some rest, Master. Which we’d like to see, wouldn’t we just.’
‘Got you through, didn’t I?’
‘Losing five Shareholders in the process.’
‘That’s the risks y’take,’ Quell said, grimacing. ‘Hey, who’s paying for all this!”
‘You might’ve asked that once before. You are, of course.’
‘How long we been here? Gods, my bladder feels like I’m about to pass a pa-paya.’ And with that he reeled- wincing-upright, and tottered for the closet behind the bar.
The rat watched him pass with suspicions eyes, then crept n few waddles closer to Quip Younger’s mouth.
Glanno Tarp jerked alive in his chair. ‘No more bargains!’ he snarled. ‘Oh,’ he then said, slouching back down. ‘Somebody stopped bringing beer-can they do that? Sweetest, darling, I dreamt we was making love-’
‘Me too,’ she said. ‘Only it wasn’t a dream.’
Glanno’s eyes widened. ‘Really?’
‘No, It was a nightmare. If you want another round, you’ll have t’wake up Quip Younger.’
Ulanno squinted over. ‘He’ll wake up when he can’t breathe, soon as the rat goes for it. A silver council says he swallows instead of spitting out.’
At the voicing of a wager Reccanto Ilk’s watery grey eyes sharpened and he said, ‘I’ll take that one. Only what if he does both? Swallows then chokes and spits out? When you say “swallows” you got to mean he chews if he has to.’
‘Now that’s quibblering again and when you never done that, Ilk? It’s pointless you saying you want to wager when you keep rectivifying things.’
‘The point is you’re always too vague, Glanno, with these bets of yours. Y’need precision-’
What I need is… well, I don’t know what I need, but whatever it is you ain’t got it,’
‘I got it but I ain’t giving it,’ said Sweetest Sufferance. ‘Not to none of you, any¬how, There’s a man out there, oh, yes, and I’ll find him one day and I’ll put him in shacles and lock him in my room and I’ll reduce him to a pathetic wreck. Then we’ll get married.’
“The marriage prediceeds the wrecking,’ Glanno said. ‘So I might dream of you, darling, but that’s as far as it’ll ever go. That’s called sehvprevarication.’
‘Are you sure?’ Faint asked him, then, as the front door squealed open, she turned in her chair. An adolescent boy in a voluminous brown robe edged in warily, eyes like freshly laid turtle eggs. Lifting the robe he stepped gingerly over the drunk and padded across to their table and if he had a tail, why, Faint told herself, it’d be half wagging half slipping down between his legs.
‘Mmm. Mmmm.’
‘Would that be “Master”?’ Faint asked.
The youth nodded, drew a deep breath, and tried again. ‘Negotiation, for a delivery, yes?’
‘Master Quell is peremptorily predispossessed,’ Glanno Tarp said.
‘Predisposed, he means,’ Faint explained. ‘What needs delivering, and where?’
‘Not what. Who. Don’t know where.’
‘Tell you what,’ Faint said, ‘go get the who and bring him or her here and we’ll take it from there, all right? There now, watch your step on your way out.’
Bobbing head, hurried departure.
‘Since when you did the negotiating?’ Reccanto asked her, squinting.
‘You know,’ Faint observed, ‘any half-decent Denul healer could fix your bad eyes, Ilk.’
‘What’s it to you?’
‘What it is to me is you nearly lopped my head off, you damned blind idiot-do I look like a snarling corpse?’
‘Sometimes. Anyway, I figured it out at the last moment-’
‘After I ducked and kicked you between the legs.’
‘Right, corpses ain’t that smart, so now that’s settled. I was asking you a question.’
‘He was,’ chimed in Glanno Tarp. ‘Look at us, we’re short maybe six, seven-we can’t be going nowhere any time soon.’
‘Maybe not, but maybe it’ll be a quick, easy one.’
The others all stared at her.
Faint relented. ‘Fine. Besides, I was just standing in for Quell, who might never leave that closet.’
‘Could be he’s dead,’ Sweetest Sufferance suggested.
‘Internally explodicated,’ said Glanno Tarp, ‘and don’t think I’m going in for a look.’
‘There goes the rat!’ hissed Reccanto Ilk.
They looked, watched, breathless.
A pause, nose twitching, then a scurry of small steps. Close now, close enough to flinch back at the reeking breath.
’Two councils it falls over dead.’
‘Be more precise-it’s gonna fall over dead some day, ain’t it?’
‘Gods below!’
The rat held its ground, edged a mite closer. Then gathered itself, stretched out its neck, and began drinking from the pool of slime with tiny, flickering laps of its slivery tongue.
‘That’s what I was thinking it was gonna do,’ said Sweetest Sufferance.
‘Liar.’
‘So now he ain’t never going to wake up,’ said Reccanto, ‘and I’m going to die here of thirst.’
The closet door creaked open and out staggered Master Quell, not looking at all refreshed. He hobbled over. ‘That papaya’s stuck-1 need a healer-’
‘Or a fruit seller,’ Faint said. ‘Listen, could be we got us a new contract.’
Quell’s eyes bugged slightly, then he spun round and staggered back into the closet.
‘Now see what you did!’ snapped Reccanto.
‘It’s not my papaya, is it?’
So early in the morning, the streets of Darujhistan, barring those of markets, were ghostly, strewn with rubbish and yet somehow magical. The sun’s golden hght stroked every surface with a gentle artist’s hand. The faint mists that had drifted in from the lake during the night now retreated once more, leaving the air crisp. In the poorer quarters, shutters opened on upper storeys and moments later the contents of chamber pots sailed out, splashing the alleys and any hapless denizen still lying drunk to the world, and moments later rats and such crept out to sample the fresh offerings.
The dolorous High Priest led Mappo Runt away from the temple quarter and down into the Lakefront District, skirting Second Tier Wall before cutting across towards the Gadrohi District-in essence taking the Trell back the way he had come the night before. As they walked, the city awoke around them, rubbed sleep from its eyes, then gawked at the shambling priest and his enormous, barbaric companion.
