(This was the reason Ahdio had been known to refer jocularly to the place as the
Vulgar Unicorn Annex.)
He was just contentedly spraying the eastward wall when a slight sound behind
him was followed quickly by a swift, jerky pressure at his side, a shade forward
of the kidney. The pressure-point was tiny, and Ahdio recognized the touch of a
knife’s tip.
“Uh,” he said, and splashed his thick-soled walking buskin. “Damn.”
“All right,” a voice snarled in an obvious attempt both to sound dangerous and
to disguise itself, “let’s have yer purse, bigun.” The pressure remained at
Ahdio’s side.
“I’ll give you this,” Ahdio said without turning, “you’re light on your feet and
may amount to a real thief someday. But I think you have me confused with
someone else-I’m Ahdio.”
“Ah-Ahdi-“
“Probably couldn’t recognize me in the dark, here. You know: Ahdiovizun, the
great big mean and cantankerous proprietor of Sly’s Place, who always wears …”
“A mailcoat!” the snarler snarled loudly, and the pressure of his knifepoint
instantly left Ahdiovizun’s person. The would-be thief was not nearly as quiet
departing in haste as he had been at stalking.
Ahdio let go a goodly sigh and restored his clothing. Having deliberately given
the thief opportunity to escape unseen, he turned slowly and paced out of the
Maze’s public convenience. He felt around at his rearward side with a big hand
that had gone a bit sweaty.
Good. The little idiot didn’t prick my vest. Hate to start leaking goose
feathers. Glad he was too scared and stupid to run a test by leaning on that