his residence and place of business, which was sort of sphinctered in the
improbable three-way intersection where the Serpentine sort of extruded Tanner
Lane as it slithered by, at the place where Odd Birt’s Cross became Odd Birt’s
Dodge.
The lowest dive in the lowest of towns, some called Sly’s Place.
Ahdiovizun called it home. He also called it never dull and always fascinating,
even inspiring. (Sly was a man dead these three years, but who wanted to change
the name and take credit for the skungiest and most fight-prone watering-hole in
all Thieves’ World? In consequence, no one was sure just who did own it. True,
Sly’s widow seemed not to be hurting any for finances, but certainly she never
came near the place, and no one ever reported having seen Ahdio or his helper
Throde go to her home.)
Since today he had settled a few bills with last night’s receipts, he had not
gone over to the Path of Money at all. Thus he extended his walk by taking the
longer way around from the Bazaar. When he entered the Maze from the north, onto
the Serpentine, nature had been calling for several minutes. With a little smile
he decided to avail himself of the little cul-de-sac variously called Tick’s
Vomitorium, or Safehaven, or more descriptively: The Outhouse. Even in the ever
present shadows, the lower walls of all three buildings abutting on Safehaven
were stained dark. The area, a squared horseshoe, reeked of urine and worse. The
Vulgar Unicorn was just around the corner and many a patron had come hurrying
into just this odd little shelter to relieve his bladder or his stomach or both.