"No. You see that black-haired woman at my table?" she said, lowering her voice and motioning discretely at Fannah. Alall nodded. "She's going to be staying in my room for a bit, and I want her to be able to come and go as she pleases."
Alall managed to hide most of his surprise. Tazi had kept a room at his inn for several years now and he could only think of two others who had ever been in the room after Tazi began renting it. They'd never been allowed to stay long enough to warrant a key.
"It'll be done," he promised. "And I'll let Kalli know about your guest, so she won't think the girl a lovelorn suitor and toss her down the stairs out of reflex."
Tazi grinned at the memory. Not too long ago, she had received a little too much attention from one of the Kit's patrons who had become smitten by the "boy" she seemed to be. Tazi tried to make a discreet retreat to her quarters, but the gentleman had other, friendly ideas. Kalli, however, made sure she was left alone. The man found himself picked up bodily by Alall's six-foot wife and tossed ignominiously down the bowed and rickety stairs. Tazi realized she had found a safe haven and another set of parents at the Kit.
As she turned to leave, Alall gave a few coppers back to her. Tazi smiled briefly at his superstition. There weren't many merchants in Selgaunt who still believed that you gave a little back to the client so that they could barter with you again someday. Alall did.
Returning to the table, she said to Fannah, "I'm afraid I'll have to go elsewhere this evening."
Fannah smiled and nodded, but Tazi could see concern cross her features. Not missing a beat, Tazi continued, "Why don't you take your drink and I'll walk you up to my room. Maybe we can even talk Kalli into fixing you something a bit more substantial to eat?" She went around to Fannah's chair and helped her get her bearings.
With her disturbing eyes fixed on Tazi, Fannah asked with a perplexed tone, "What do you mean by 'your room'?" It appeared that people could still surprise Fannah.
As she steered Fannah toward the stairs along the left side of the bar, Tazi remarked smoothly, "As I said before, I know I ruined your evening's plans. I would like to make up for it."
Fannah stopped before the stairs and resolutely stood her ground. She gripped Tazi's arm with both of her hands and stared hard at her with her sightless eyes.
"You don't know me, nor do you owe me anything. I will find a way to manage on my own," she said with a steel resolve. Now it was Tazi's turn to tilt her head at Fannah.
"I know you can," she reassured her, "but why not take me up on my offer? You don't have a place to go tonight, and I'm not asking anything of you. Why not say yes?"
After a moment of silence, Fannah whispered, "Why are you doing this for me?"
Tazi patted Fannah's clenched hands with her free one. "I like you. It's that simple. I just feel like doing this. Can't you accept that?"
Fannah's only response was to squeeze Tazi's hand and turn her face toward the stairs. Cautiously, the two made their way up to Tazi's room. It was simple enough, with a bed, a wooden table, and some chairs. There were a few locked chests under the bed, but Tazi seemed unconcerned about Fannah's presence in her room of secrets. When she opened, as much as she ever did, the doors into her life, she did so unreservedly.
"Let me light this oil lantern," Tazi began before she foolishly realized the light would not matter to Fannah. This time it was Fannah who smoothed over the awkwardness as she thanked Tazi.
"Leave it. I try to stay in practice and live as much as a sighted person as possible," she explained. "It tends to make people less uncomfortable around me." She flashed a warm smile at Tazi.
"Well, I think you're set for now. I'll see about sending up some food. Don't worry about paying for it."
As Tazi moved to the door, Fannah stopped her once more. Fearing some deluge of gratitude, Tazi raised her hands in protest. But Fannah's next words caught her by surprise.
"Beware tonight. Not everything you see is as it seems."
With those odd words resounding in her head, Tazi returned downstairs. She gave another nod to Alall and stepped out into the night. There, away from the nosy eyes of the Kit's clientele, she pulled out the scrap of parchment the old man had given her and verified the address once more. According to his sources, whatever or whoever they might be, the old man had discovered Ciredor's apartments. They weren't far.
Everything is going exactly the way I want, Tazi said to herself as she confidently made her way down Larawkan Lane. First, I'll relieve Ciredor of the trinket I gave him and, in doing so, relieve myself of his company. Then, I'll find out just what his connection is with Fannah. I don't want him to have any more to do with her. She discovered a protective feeling for her new acquaintance. Serious thoughts, however, never clung to Tazi for long, and soon she found herself envisioning Shamur's search for a new suitor for her. The picture of her exasperated mother caused a wave of giggles to well up in Tazi. As usual, they passed quickly.
Without warning, a group of gaudily costumed partygoers burst from around a corner. Tazi automatically reached for her dagger, but when she saw they offered no threat, she composed herself and gave a quick nod to the merrymakers. The encounter further reinforced her belief that everyone of note would be out tonight at one celebration or another.
Tazi walked more and more quietly as she left the concealing seediness of the Oxblood Quarter. To the few people still milling about on the cobblestone roadway, she looked for all the world like a young man out on a lark. Tazi was well practiced at effacing herself and becoming part of the backdrop around her. But she was not the only one this night with such skills, and the shadow that had followed her from Stormweather Towers was still near.
It was not too long a walk, but it was long enough, and Tazi used the time to prepare herself. The tang of salt in the air meant Selgaunt Bay was close again. Though she would be loath to admit it, her mouth always dried out at the beginning of her excursions. Her heart beat just a little faster, too. It was the end of her "wildings," though, that were sweetest. Words could not describe the surprise and pleasure she felt when they were over and she was triumphant once again. She had to admit to herself that she was secretly pleased she had discovered someone to share a few of these outings with, someone who enjoyed them as much as she did. But even though Steorf made a wonderful companion on nights like this, Tazi ultimately found the wildings on her own to be the best of all.
The accomplished thief made her way down Larawkan Lane, lost in her own thoughts. A few shops were still open. This was Selgaunt after all, and business was business, no matter the hour. The few lingering patrons were lost in their own trades and paid little attention to the darkly clad youth traveling quickly down the road. Soon Habrith's Bakery came into view.
Tazi nodded to herself at the sight of the landmark and turned right at the bakery, a business closed now but one that would be bustling with the coming of dawn. Down a few paces on Sarn Street nestled a small garden. There was a scattering of such islands of greenery in Selgaunt, the largest being the Hunting Gardens. The one before Tazi was much, much smaller, but Ciredor's temporary lodgings were said to be adjacent to the corner of the wooded lot. Tazi made her way through the grove to her intended target.
She moved silently through the sparse brush adjacent to Ciredor's walled-off garden, glad she had oiled her leathers earlier in the evening, for there wasn't the slightest creak from them. She was not as fortunate as her absent companion Steorf, who had learned to cast wards to ensure his own silence, regardless of what he wore or carried. Tazi had to admit when they were together his skill impressed her. He was becoming as formidable as his mother. He would make a worthy successor to Elaine one day, Tazi thought, assuming he could give up this kind of mischief for a respectable life.