10 – Aftermath by Asprin, Robert

Samlor grimaced, then went on, “Let’s get out t’ the street again. You wait, and I’ll go talk to the fellow across the way there.”

“Ah, Samlor . . . ?” Khamwas said.

“Just wait here,” the Cirdonian repeated. “I’m going across the street to talk with the watchman there.” He nodded toward the guard shack on the construction site opposite.

“Yes, of course,” Khamwas said with enough disinterest to hint at irritation. “But what I wanted to say was-Setios, you see, may not be avoiding you. There’s been a recent upheaval in the structure of, you see, magic. He may have become frightened and fled from that.”

The Napatan grinned. “He’ll have left behind the stele I want to read, surely. Probably his whole collection, if that fear is why he left. And, as for this child’s legacy”-he touched Star’s cheek affectionately-“if we don’t find it here, I’ll help you locate it. Because you’ve helped me. And because I am honored to help someone as talented as your niece.”

“The plans of gods are one thing,” said the manikin on his shoulder. “The thoughts of men are another.”

“Yeah, well,” said the caravan master, then strode across the street with a swaggering assurance which immediately set him apart in a city where lone men habitually slunk. The watchman edged back from his window so that his eyes no longer reflected light.

It took five pieces of Rankan gold and ten minutes cajoling the nervous watchman at the construction site before Samlor returned to his compan- ions with the house jack he had borrowed.