Thieves World 5 – The Face of Chaos by Asprin, Robert

town.

Tamzen’s heart was pounding, her mouth dry and her lungs burning. They had run a

long way. They were lost and all six knew it, Phryne was weeping and her sister

was shaking and crying she couldn’t run, her knees wouldn’t hold her; the three

boys left were talking loud and telling all how they’d get home if they just

stayed in a group – the girls had no need to fear. More krrf was shared, though

it made things worse, not better, so that a toothless crone who tapped her stick

and smacked her gums sent them flying through the streets.

No one talked about Mehta’s fate; they’d seen him with the dark-clad whore, seen

him mesmerized, seen him take her hand. They’d hid until the pair walked on,

then followed – the group had sworn to stay together, wicked adventure on their

minds; all were officially adults now; none could keep them from the forbidden

pleasures of men and women – to see if Mehta would really lay the whore,

thinking they’d regroup right after, and find out what fun he’d had.

They’d seen him fall, and gag, and die once he’d raised her skirts and had her,

his buttocks thrusting hard as he pinned her to the alley wall. They’d seen her

bend down over him and raise her head and the glowing twin hells there had sent

them pell-mell, fleeing what they knew was no human whore.

Now they’d calmed, but they were deep in the Shambles, near its end where

Caravan Square began. There was light there, from midnight merchants engaged in

double-dealing; it was not safe there, one of the boys said: slaves were made