one, a solitary woman coming at him like this.
But a vision of dark robes flashed through the dark of his vision, with cold,
with the scent of musk; she was solitary, female, and he held in his hand the
knife he slept with, safer than women.
“Why didn’t you go to your own?” he sneered at her. “Or is this the testing? I
don’t like games, bitch.”
“They’ve cut us off.” The voice quavered and steadied. He heard her move at him
and brought the knife up. It met her body and she stopped, dead still, hard
breathing. “You took our pay.” It was a hiss through clenched teeth. “Do
something to earn it. Help me find him.”
“Smells, woman. It smells all the way.”
“He’s into something. He’s dealing in something. Krrf. Gods know what.” The
voice cracked. “Vis. Come with me. Now. After this- I’ll swear to you you’ll get
money. You’ll be in. I’ve got contacts I’ll swear for you. Get my brother. He’s
dropped through a crack somewhere. Just come with me. Riverside. We’ve got to
find him.”
“How much.”
“Name it. I’ll get it.”
A woman who was faithful. To something. He stared at the dark, doubting all of
it, standing in the den Mama Becho owned and listening to the promise of gold to
get him out of it.
“Back off,” he said, shoving her away, not wanting her knife in him, and he
reckoned it was drawn. “I’ll get my shirt. Don’t make any moves. Just tell me
where you reckon to look for this lost lamb.”
“Riverside.” She caught her breath, a moving of cloth in the dark. “That’s where
they turn up-the hawkmasks they murder.”
He stopped, his shirt half on. He cursed himself, thought of the gold and made