Thieves World 7 – The Dead of Winter by Asprin, Robert

mad gold eye.

“Oh, indeed,” she said. And to Haught: “Be useful. Feed it. Mind your fingers.”

“That’s the high priest,” Haught said, meaning where it had come from. Its

message, shrilled in a high thin voice, was not within his understanding.

Query, query, query. “Molin wants answers,” Ischade said, and smiled, because

those answers were forthcoming, but not in the way the high priest wanted. “Tell

Janni he’s welcome to take Niko if he can. When you see him.”

“Where have you been?” Black Lysias of the 3rd Commando asked questions when

Strat came up into the stables, back inside the Black line. “We’ve been

scouring-“

“Say I had an urgent meeting.” Strat caught the man by the sleeve. Fastidious

Lysias looked like a ratsnest; smelled like fish. That was the way the 3rd

traveled these days. Strat propelled him through into the slant-walled tackroom,

where a little daylight got through the cracks of the leaky roof. The bay

snorted and stamped and kicked a board nearby, having had enough of this den.

Second kick, like half the building was falling. “Damn. Cut it, horse.”

Sulky silence then. A snort and switch of tail.

“We’ve got something moving,” Straton said. “You hear it?” And in the absence of

confirmations: “What have you heard?”

“We got a line on Niko. Got rumors where he is. Uptown. Priests. We got areas we

can’t get into. Randal sent-says Roxane’s stirring about last night; she’s

looking too. Fast. We still haven’t got where. Kama’s got her piff connection

sniffing round; haven’t found her yet. Melant’s down harborside; Kali’s trying