Slowly, my irritation began to give way to common sense. Kalvin was right. If nothing else, I had heard that bellhops were prime sources of local information, and if being nice to this character would speed my search for Aahz, thereby shortening my stay on Perv, then it would definitely be worth at least a decent tip. Taking a deep breath, I caught the Djin’s eye and gave a curt nod, whereupon he subsided. It occurred to me it was nice to deal with someone who would let an argument drop once he’d won it.
The bellhop unlocked a door and ushered me into my room with a flourish. The first view of my temporary head quarters almost reversed my mind all over again. The room was what could only be politely referred to as a hole . . . and I wasn’t in a particularly polite mood. For openers, it was small . . . smaller than most of the closets in my place back at the Bazaar. There was barely enough space to walk around the bed without scooting sideways, and what little room there was was cramped further by a small bureau which was missing the knob on one of the two drawers, and a chair which looked about as comfortable as a bed of nails. The shade of the bedside lamp was askew, and the wallpaper was torn with one large flap hanging loose except where it was secured by cobwebs. I couldn’t tell if the texture of the carpet was dust or mildew, though from the smell I suspected the latter. The ceiling had large water stains on it, but you couldn’t tell without looking hard because the light in the place was dim enough to make a vampire feel claustrophobic. All this for a mere hundred in gold a night.