“Whom do you think to impress, Riddler? The boy? Your potential, and
dangerous proclivities, speak for themselves. I will grant no further
concessions….”
Riding with the dream lord into Sanctuary in broad daylight was a relief after
the tension of his commander’s dining table. Being dismissed by Askelon before
the high-walled Mageguild on the Street of Arcana was a reprieve he had not
dared to hope for, though the entelechy of the seventh sphere decreed that
Nikodemos must return to the outer gates at sundown. He watched his best horse
disappear down that vine-hung way without even a twinge of regret. If he never
saw that particular horse and its rider again, it would be too soon.
And he had his orders, which, when he had received them, he had despaired of
successfully carrying out. When Askelon had been absorbed in making his
farewells to the woman whose fighting stature and muscle tone were so
extraordinary, Tempus had bade Niko warn certain parties to spread the word that
a curfew must be kept, and some others not to attend the Mage-guild’s fete this
evening, and lastly find a way to go alone to the Vulgar Unicorn, tavern of
consummate ill repute in this scabrous town, and perform a detailed series of
actions there.
Niko had never been to the Vulgar Unicorn, though he had been by it many times
during his tours in the Maze. The east-side taverns like the Alekeep at the
juncture of Promise Park and Governor’s Walk, and the Golden Oasis, outside the
Maze, were more to his liking, and he stopped at both to fortify himself for a