expression of shock had increased with each new cat Ivalia listed-and without
showing signs of running out of either names or cats anytime soon.
“Try one of her pickled sausages,” Ahdio said to the newcomer. “And remember it
was Ahdio who told you. Stop in at my tavern-Sly’s Place near Wrong Way Park.
First beer’s on me.”
He waved a hand in friendly farewell to Ivalia and departed. Thus he did not see
the look her prospective customer gave her, or hear him mutter, “Sly’s Place!
Theba’s eyeballs … I’d as soon slit my throat as go near that dive!”
Ivalia leaned on her counter, face in hands, and gave him a nice smile. “Why
don’t you, then?”
Bulkily visible with his broad back emphasized by the vest of tired red, Ahdio
wended his way out of the Bazaar, returning greetings, stopping to say a few
words to this or that merchant and a couple of Stepsons with ever-wary eyes. His
words to the beautifully-dressed noble Shaf-ralain went unanswered and Ahdio
grinned. He just managed not to wink at an armed but not particularly mean
looking Bey, and headed for home.
Home was upstairs over the dive called Sly’s Place, well back in that most
unsavory and unsafe district of Sanctuary called the Maze. Today he had gone to
the street called Path of Money early, to put away some of last night’s income.
He never visited his banker at the same time on two days within any week, so as
not to be predictable. Sanctuary was that kind of town. It was a goodly walk,
too. When he bore money out of Sly’s, he got out of the Maze as fast as he