into its sheath. Her eyes followed the move and looked up at him … grave,
so very grave. Women of quality he had seen tended to nutter the eyes; this
one stared eye to eye, and he found himself inclined to break the contact,
to look down or elsewhere. She extended her hand, close to touching him, a
move he thought might be an invitation to take liberties of his own.
And then she drew the hand back and the moment passed. She walked over and
offered the bird a morsel from the cup at the side of the stand. The creature
took it with a great flapping of wings.
‘What do you have in mind?’ he asked, vexed at this mincing about, with so much
at stake. ‘It’s not legal, I’ll guess.’
‘It might involve powerful enemies. I can guarantee – equally powerful
protections. And the reward. Of course that.’
‘Who’s to die? Someone else … like that boy last night?’
She looked about, lifted a brow, then turned her attentions back to the bird,
stroked black feathers with a forefinger. ‘Priests, perhaps. Does that bother
you?’
‘Not unduly. A man wonders -‘
‘The risk is mine. So are the consequences. Only I need someone to take care of
physical difficulties. I assure you I know what I’m about.’
There was more than the scent of incense about the place. Of a sudden there was
quite another thing… the smell of wizardry. He gathered that, as he had been
picking up the pieces all along. It was not a thing a man expected to find
everywhere. But it was here. And there were crimes done in the Maze, by that
means and others. Spells, he had dealt with, at least at distance… had a hint