Despite my continuing concern over his attention to his driving, the cabbie was beginning to interest me. “I must say you’re enterprising enough. Cab driver, publisher, cook, translator. . . is there anything else you do?”
“Oh, I’m into a lot of things. Photography, tour guide . . . I even draw a little. Some of these drawings I did. I’d be willing to part with them for the right price.” He gestured at some of the sheets adorning the interior, and the cab veered dangerously to the right.
“Ah . . . actually, I was interested in something else you said just now.”
“Yeah? What’s that?”
“Tour guide.”
“Oh, that. Sure. I love to when I get the chance. It’s sweet money. Beats the heck out of fighting the other hacks for fares all day long.”
I glanced at Kalvin and raised a questioning eyebrow. “Go ahead,” he said. “We could use a guide, and you seem to be getting along with this guy pretty well. You know what they say, ‘Better the Deveel you know.’ “
Obviously the Djin’s knowledge did not extend to Deveels, but this wasn’t the time or place to instruct him. I turned my attention back to the driver. “I was thinking of hiring you more as a guide than a tour guide. How much do you make a day with this cab?”
“Well, on a good day I can turn better than a hundred.”
“Uh-huh,” I said. “How about on an average day?”
That earned me another over-the-shoulder glance.
“I gotta say, fella, you sure don’t talk like a Klahd.”
“I live at the Bazaar at Deva,” I smiled. “It does wonders for your bargaining skills. How much?”