“I came by my good fortune the hard way: honestly. I’ve paid my taxes.”
“When you lived in the Maze, Masha, you worked as a midwife-with a doctor present east of the Processional, without one the rest of the time. The girl in the Shambles- she’s been in labor for three days, in this heat. Once upon a time visiting the Shambles was moving up for you; I’m hoping you won’t be afraid to go there tonight.”
Mash sighed and let her lamp rest on the handrail. “Three days? There won’t be much I can do.”
But she would come-the answer showed on her face before she said anything. Enoir protested and insisted he accompany her but she ordered him to remain at the house and retreated upstairs to dress. Walegrin waited, politely ignoring
Enoir’s barbed glances.
“You have an escort in the street?” Masha asked when she returned, one hand pulling a prim, but almost transparent, shawl around her shoulders and the other carrying a battered leather chest.
“Of course,” Walegrin replied without hesitation as he, rather than Enoir, held the door open.
He called for Zip as soon as the door had shut behind them. “That is your escort?” Masha sneered, the edge in her voice trying to cover her discomfort and fear.
“No, that’s our guide; I’m the escort. Let’s get moving.” Whatever Masha zil
Ineel was doing now that she had money, she hadn’t let it soften her. She let the shawl drape loosely from her shoulders and kept pace with them along the
Path of Money. The heavy chest seemed not to slow her at all and she refused to let either man carry it. The moon set; Walegrin bought a brace of torches from the Processional night-crier and they continued along their way, avoiding the