“I don’t sel! myself, pud,” he said.
“I don’t want your body,” Cade answered. He pointed at his head. “I want information.” The boy looked interested. He bit the coin with stained teeth and then made it disappear.
“Some information costs more than others. What did you want to buy, pud?”
“How much can I buy about the Sharp Side?”
“Shalpa’s cloak,” the boy swore, “you trying to get killed, friend?”
“You wear no colors, you’re an independent,” Cade said. “You must have been smart to survive that way. You have to know things. I want to know those things.”
“Why?”
“Because they killed my brother.” Cade knew he should have lied, but he could always kill the boy later. The boy was dead meat anyway; an independent wouldn’t last very long around here.
“My name’s Raif,” the boy answered. He looked Cade up and down. “Can you use that sword?” he asked skeptically. Cade reached down, searched the floor for a moment, then pulled up a small piece of wood four inches long, half an inch wide. He handed it to the boy.
“Hold it out.” Raif did so, holding it in his right hand. Making no sign of his intention Cade drew his blade right-handed and cut the wood in half; simultaneously his left hand withdrew a hidden knife and threw it- all at a blinding speed. The knife pinned the two-inch piece of wood to the ground. Raif just stared at the other half in his hand. Cade smiled.
“I do all right.”
“Shit.” Raif shook his head. “I’ll tell you what I know, if you pay me another silver, then keep your mouth shut that I helped.”