“I don't believe this,” he muttered as he pushed himself from the wall and headed down the alley. His hand brushed the pouch tied to his waist.
“I'm about to put a maiden's ransom back.”
He came to the stone wall he'd been looking for, and began to climb.
He drew a deep breath. All right, let's get it done.
The stone was wet, but he had enough determination in him to scale a mountain. He climbed on, and did not slip even so much as a single foothold.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
There's a spider here in this corner in that -
her three eyes tiptoe in darkness, her eight legs track my spine, she mirrors and mocks my pacing.
There's a spider here who knows all of me her web my history full writ.
Somewhere in this strange place a spider waits for my panicked flight:
The Conspiracy Blind Gallan (b.1078)
Soon as the guild assassin left the room, kalam drained the last of his beer, paid up, and ascended the staircase.
From the gallery railing he studied the crowd below, then, seeing that no one paid him much attention, he strode down the hallway and entered the last room on the right.
He closed the door and locked it. Quick Ben was seated cross-legged on the floor, within a circle of melted blue wax. The wizard was hunched over, bare-chested, his eyes shut and droplets of sweat trickling down his face. Around him the air shimmered, as if glossed with lacquer.
Kalam walked around the wax circle to the bed. He took a leather satchel from a peg above the bedpost and set it down on the thin, straw-filled mattress. Peeling back the flap he removed the contents. A minute later he'd laid out the mechanisms for a goat's foot arbalest. The crossbow's metal parts had been blued, the narrow wooden stock soaked in pitch and dusted with black sand. Kalam slowly, quietly, assembled the weapon.
Quick Ben spoke behind him. “Done. Whenever you're ready, friend.”
“The man left through the kitchen. But he'll be back,” Kalam said, rising with the arbalest in his hands. He attached a strap to it and slung the weapon over one shoulder. Then he faced the wizard. “I'm ready.”
Quick Ben also stood, wiping his forehead with a sleeve. “Two spells. You'll be able to float, control every descent. The other should give you the ability to see anything magical-well, almost anything. If there's a High Mage kicking around, we're out of luck.”
“And you?” Kalam asked, as he examined his quiver of bolts.
“You won't see me directly, just my aura,” Quick Ben replied with a grin, “but I'll be with you all the way.”
“Well, hopefully this'll go smoothly. We make contact with the Guild, we offer the Empire's contract, they accept and remove for us every major threat in the city.” He shrugged into his black cloak and pulled up the hood.
“You sure we can't just go downstairs and walk right up to the man, lay it out?”
Kalam shook his head. “Not how it's done. We've identified him, he's done the same with us. He's probably just made contact with his commander, and they'll arrange things to their liking. Our man should lead us now to the meet.”
“Won't it be an ambush we're walking into, then?”
The large man agreed. “More or less. But they'll want to know what we want with them first. And once that's out, I doubt the Guild's master will be interested in killing us. You ready?”
Quick Ben raised a hand towards Kalam, then muttered briefly under his breath.
Kalam felt a lightness come into him, rising to his skin and emanating a cushion of cool air that enveloped his body. And before his eyes Quick Ben's figure formed a blue-green penumbra, concentrated at the wizard's long-fingered hands. “I have them,” the assassin said, smiling, “two old friends.”
Quick Ben sighed. “Yes, here we are doing this all over again.” He met his friend's gaze. “Hood's on our heels, Kal. I can feel his breath on my neck, these days.”
“You're not alone in that.” Kalam turned to the window. “Sometimes,” he said drily, “I have the feeling our Empire wants us dead.” He walked to the window, unlatched the shutters, then swung them inward and leaned both hands on the sill.
Quick Ben came up beside him and rested a hand on his shoulder.
They gazed out at the darkness, a brief sharing of unease passing between them.
“We've seen too much,” Quick Ben said softly.
“Hood's Breath,” Kalam growled, “what are we doing this for anyway?”
“Maybe if the Empire gets what it wants-Darujhistan-they'll let us slip away.”