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

Now the big man gave it to Sweetboy all at once, as reward. Along with a full

mug-bowl.

Sweetboy immediately proved that he was a cat who loved beer, not an alcoholic.

He nicked his ears at the bowl, made a small appreciative remark, and went for

the meat.

“What happened?” That from Throde, in the doorway with broom in hand. He held it

in the manner of a spearman awaiting the command to charge.

“You and I both left the door unbarred and let two cess-heads disturb this nice

li’l kittycat’s nap, that’s what!”

“Oh, gredge,” Throde muttered, staring downward. “‘m sorry, Ahdio.”

“No harm done. If those two don’t talk about it, let’s be sure the story gets

around.” Eyes twinkling, Ahdio hoisted his mug.

“Uh … what if they spread it that you keep a demon back here?”

“So? In Sanctuary? Who’d care?” his grinning employer rhetorically asked.

“Demons and vampires and dead gods and living goddesses involved in street

fights … a demon in the back room of Sly’s Place seems perfectly normal to me!

What do you think, Sweetboy?”

Sweetboy thought the sausage was just lovely and that it was time for a swig or

three of beer. • • •

* * *

When the veiled lady came into Sly’s Place, it was three-quarters full and

altogether noisy. Also, predictably, male. Nor did any of their attire reflect

wealth, nobility, or the military. Oh, of course they wore daggers, that

standard utensil for eating, among other uses. She saw three other females, all

of whom looked as if they belonged here. The one in her teens wore a sort of

skirt the color of new gold that was slit on both sides to the belt, and a black