“But if I tell you afore ye pay me, ye can say it ain’t worth nothin’ when it is!” the thief protested.
Nikolas shrugged. There was a long, long silence as the man fidgeted on the other side of the barrier. Finally he couldn’t bear it any more and blurted, “Feller that had the shiny was poisoned.”
That got both their attention. “How d’ye reckon that?” Nikolas asked cautiously.
“I don’ reckon it,” the thief said. “Healer said so. Feller’s a guide. He was down in some city south, took some horse traders down there from here, that’s where he got the shiny. Passed through there, picked up some other fellers t’guide back up here. Healer says he dunno what poison ’twas, on’y that feller was poisoned. Fellers he brung here, they was all kinda furrin. Bet they poisoned ’im.”
Mags could smell the booze on his breath all the way from where he was sitting. He couldn’t imagine how Nikolas could stand it. Nor could he imagine how Nikolas was remaining sober!
“An’ where didja here all this?” Nikolas drawled, skeptically.
“Feller had a reg’lar ’oman at Peg’s. Got it from her.” The man kept looking furtively over his shoulder, as if he thought he had been followed into the shop.
“This woman gotta name?” Now Nikolas reached into the cash till, which was out of sight and reach from anyone standing at the barred window, and pulled out a few silver coins. He pushed them idly back and forth on the counter—still just out of reach.
“Senla,” the thief said, all of his attention centered on the coins. He stared at them avidly.
“Senla at Peg’s.” Nikolas played with the coins. “Well, I ’spose she got nothin’ t’gain from this... she ever see these furriners?”
“Nah. He just tol’ her ’bout ’em.” Mags watched the thief’s eyes follow the coins, like a cat watching a fly. The coins made a soft scraping sound across the counter. It was the only sound in the shop aside from their voices.
“Well. That’s somethin’. Ain’t much but . . .” Nikolas shoved the coins under the bars, and the thief grabbed them greedily. They made a chinking sound as he shoved then into a pouch that he thrust into his shirt. “You get me somethin’ better, you’ll get paid better.”
The thief didn’t reply to this; he skittered out the door as if someone had set him on fire. That was... odd. Mags wondered why he was in such a hurry to get out of there.
Nikolas drummed his fingers on the countertop for a moment. ::I’m torn... :: Mags knew exactly what he meant. This was the middle of Weasel’s business day. There was no way that Weasel would close the shop now, unless he was dying, or the shop itself was on fire. And maybe not even then. But he wanted to get to this woman now.
::I’ll go, :: Mags said instantly. Sure, he was just a youngling. But there had to be plenty of reasons for a youngling down here in this part of Haven to be seeing a woman of that sort. Right now he couldn’t think of any, but surely Nikolas could. ::Ye thin’ of some reason fer me t’wanter see th’ ’oman whilst I git there. Ye know where Peg’s is?::
::I do.:: Nikolas “showed” him the location, not in terms of a map, but the streets he would follow to get there. ::Going by rooftop?::
Mags grinned at him. Of course he was going by rooftop. On the unlikely chance that someone had followed that thief here, the only person he would have to follow would be the same thief.
Nikolas nodded at a ladder in the corner. ::Hatch at the top.::
Mags trotted over to the ladder and skittered up it, feeling quietly gleeful that Nikolas trusted him to go after this woman. There was indeed a hatch at the top, bolted from this side. He pulled it up and dropped it down, poking his head up into the darkness above.
It was an attic. He hauled himself up into it, and in the light coming up from below, he saw the outlines of a roof-door.
::Find the door?:: Nikolas asked.
::Aye. Lemme git ’er open, then ye kin close up from below.:: The door to the roof opened outward; he checked and saw that it would lock again when he closed it. ::Aight. I’m good.::
He heard the ladder creaking, then the hatch closed and the bolt shot home. He was on his own. He levered himself out onto the sloping roof and shut the door quietly. No use alerting anyone to the fact that there was someone crawling about on the roof.
He took his bearings and started out, moving as quickly as he could. He just hoped that when he got there, he’d have figured out an excuse to talk to her. Or Nikolas would have.
Hmm. When he’d been snooping around as the blind beggar, he’d noticed that not all “house” girls stayed in the House to practice their trade. Trusted ones were allowed to visit clients. ::Maybe Peg’ll send ’er girls out, fer a price.:: he suggested to Nikolas.
::If the price is right, I am certain she would send her girls out to entertain performing bears,:: came the cynical reply. Mags snorted. From what he knew, Nikolas was probably right.
::I c’ld be errand boy, settin’ somethin’ up then.:: That would make sense; a man with the means to hire a girl for the evening would also have the means to hire a boy to go out and make the arrangements for him.
This was an excellent part of town for roof-running. The buildings were crammed too close together for anything bigger than a rat to pass between them. Mags could basically scuttle along without anyone seeing him, as long as he didn’t make more noise than a large cat. This was all very familiar: the feel of slates and tiles and the occasional thatched roof under his hands and feet, balancing on the slope, basically going on all fours with three points of contact on the roof at all times—
Since these roofs were inspected yearly for chimney issues—a fire in this part of town would be a complete disaster, because it would spread for blocks in no time at all—they were in good repair, even if the interiors left a lot to be desired. There weren’t a lot of thatched roofs here; they were more prone to fires. Mags vaguely remembered that house and shop owners were being pressured to get rid of them. A pity, since they were easier to scramble across.
Then again, that was probably a reason that could be used to get them replaced. If he could do it, a thief would find it ridiculously easy.
Nikolas sent him another thought. ::There’s money sewn in the hem of your jerkin. It’s enough to get Peg’s attention. See if she’ll send Senla to the Owl and Firkin. It’s close, and I can be there soon enough. The Weasel has gone out to a tavern for food now and again on a slow night.::
Mags gave his wordless assent. These roofs were absolutely ideal for what he was doing, even the ones that weren’t thatched. Although they were steep, they were also broken up by chimney pots and dormers, to make the most use of the attic space. There was more than enough light for him to see his way up here, with a full moon and no clouds. He didn’t even have to fight chimney smoke; any cooking was over and done with at this time of night.
He was mortal glad to get out of that stuffy shop and out in the fresh air.
And he took his time. It wasn’t more than a few blocks to this house, and there was no real hurry to get there, so he could test each foot- and handhold, making very sure of them before he trusted his weight to roof or handhold. Down below, there were still a few people out and about. This part of Haven actually came to life after dark. Those who lived here worked from dawn to dusk and only had time to get their own business done when the sun went down.