“You,” she advised, “are so full of shit your blue eyes are turning brown.”
Grinning helplessly, he whipped back the tired old spread and inspected the bed.
He found nothing alive. He picked up the slumping girl with preposterous ease, and stretched her on the bed. He took off his weapons belt, thinking about the new armband he’d been forced to buy. He sat on the floor with his back against the wall. The candle he set to one side.
When Avenestra awoke five or so hours later, headachy as always, he was not in the room. The silver coin was. She was certain that she had done nothing for it.
And she remembered what he had told her. Crazy, she thought, and was thinking fondly of that nice fatherly Ahdio when she slipped back into sleep.
Cusharlain arrived in the common room of the Golden Oasis shortly after noon and
Esaria shortly after that. She was bright and summery and pretty in a long sky blue dress cut dazzlingly low. She was also babbly, and her cousin put a hand over her mouth.
“I have two good prospects as places of business and lodgings, Strick, and Ahdio suggested four names. A fifth he is not totally certain about. Said he had seven, but you specified decent and honest. You can interview them where and when you wish. Unh! Stop licking my palm, brat!”
“Let’s go look,” Strick said. “Stop giggling, Esaria, and you may come along with the big boys.”
They went. Along the way Esaria told them how miserable her mother was because of the new bosom-displaying style.
“Beard of Us!” Cusharlain said. “With those melons? She should be pleased and proud to display all that bounty of the gods, much less half!”