The light coming through the edges of the curtains was dull orange and I knew I had slept all day. There was only a slight pain in my head now and my body ached more from lack of movement than exhaustion. I rolled out of bed and went to the basin and washed up, then relieved myself in the pot. I put on fresh clothes from the chest then opened the curtains and windows. I stood with my head in the hands-width of space between the pane and the frame. I breathed in the cold air until the last remnants of dreams danced out of my mind and into some kind of darkness. The sun had already set. I really had slept too long and my mind felt drained from all the dreaming.

I walked into the main room and stepped around the table to open one of the windows. I stopped halfway there.

“Go ahead, let some light in.” The voice came from my reading chair in the corner to my right. I looked that way and only saw black, so I put my back to the window and backed up towards it. I stepped to the side and moved the curtains over fast, hoping to blind whoever it was, then rush them before they could recover. Unfortunately, the guy didn’t even blink. He must have thought of that and been peeking out the window until he heard me get up, or maybe the evening light wasn’t bright enough. Either way, he just sat there.

He had a face wrinkled by years counted twice and may have been fifty or twenty. His dark oilskin hunters cap and cloak had dripped onto the ground around the chair. He had a crossbow in his hand, single shot, too small to be any serious poundage, but good enough if you weren’t wearing any armor. I wasn’t. Leaning against his leg was a broad-bladed shortsword like the ones that would snake out of a shield wall a hundred years ago, and in some parts of the world still did. Its bare triangular edge glowed orange from the sunlight. I felt like jumping out the window. I should have barred the god damned door last night, of all nights.

“Anything else I can do to make you feel at home?” I said and opened the firebox and lit a slip.

“You been asking about a girl.”

“I ask about a lot of girls. It helps my chances.”

“So that’s how it's gonna be?” He put the chill in his voice and moved the crossbow just a bit as he spoke.

“How what’s gonna be?”

“You playing funny.”

“Well, I’m not gonna stammer and sweat if that’s what you mean.” I was standing there holding the slip and I realized my pipe was in my jacket on the hook across the room. I doubted he would let me get it.

“Sit down.” He said it like I was a noisy child. I hate rats that get bold when they’ve got a steel edge on someone, and I hate them most when they’re in my home. I tried not to let it show in my voice, tried to guess the fastest way to get to him, if I could spook him into pulling the trigger at the wrong time…

“Oh, thank you for the kind offer, to sit in my own house.” I said.

“It’s my house now.” His smile was a yellow one with holes in it, and I heard in his voice that his work made him smile often.

“Well then, I’ll go. It’s a bad idea to come into a man’s home uninvited, might get killed.”

He didn’t like that and he snarled like a dog. The crossbow wavered a little bit and I tried to think of a way to leap that might set him off. He’d grab that big blade like a maniac and I’d move for the club and buckler.

“Yea, you’re a real smart guy, got a cute reply for everything huh? So smart you go handing out your address to any school slut that might have doubled up with your girl behind the tavern. Didn’t think any of those girls would give your info to Wrath, eh? Didn't you know they were giving us everything else?”

He smiled like I was doing a dance for him. I decided I’d take the chance the bolt hit me. I’d taken bolts before from bigger bows and I’d tear him to pieces with my bare hands before the blood loss got to me, big blade or no. He must’ve seen where my mind was going. He whistled and I heard my door open. Two men stepped in. One was a big guy with a scarred face and iron rings on his hands. The other was a shorter guy with brown hair tied in a scarf and a three-sided blade in his hand.

“Standing out in the hallway? Don’t you know this is your friend’s house?” I said.

“Check him.” Said the crossbow guy. The big guy moved one hand like a small dog over me and took out my knife. I looked the smaller guy over again and something clicked. He had brown hair down to his shoulders, black eyes, and looked older than he was in the way all people who lived his kind of life did. Marston. I smiled at him. His eyes grew wide and he white-knuckled the spike in his hand.

“You’re gonna take a little ride with us.” The crossbow guy said before Marston could say what was on his mind. He had tucked the crossbow under his jacket. It looked smaller now that it wasn’t aimed at me and I realized it was just bigger than a hand model.

“No thanks, I’m supposed to be someplace soon.”

“That wasn’t a suggestion, smart guy. Cut any more wit and I’ll let Kreaton put his rings to work.” He nodded to the big guy who patted me towards the door like I was his old nan who had popped in at an odd hour.

“All right, but I'll be expected. My friends might get mad.” I moved to get my coat off the hook and Marston leveled his spike at me.

“Leave it.” He said.

“We know your friends and they won’t be interfering with this get together. Rodgar knows better than to put his nose in this thing.” The crossbow guy laid on Rodgar’s name as if him knowing who I worked for was supposed to spook me. I was beginning to suspect that besides a lot of iron and a bit of muscle, these guys weren’t working with much. Too bad for me that’s all they needed to get me across town. Anyway, I ignored him all the same and spoke to Marston.

“It might rain tonight.”

“Then I guess you’ll get wet.” He said. I just smiled at him some more and he got madder by the second. The big guy patted me so I went out the doorway. It occurred to me that none of them seemed to be big sprinters, and I could make it down the hall and to the right before crossbow guy got out the doorway and around the others to take a shot. Kreaton must’ve sensed what I had in mind because he laid a big ringed hand on my shoulder as I cleared the doorway. It wasn’t quite as heavy as an iron pig, but it still got the message across.

“Stay here and keep an eye out. We’ll send someone for you.” Crossbow guy muttered to Marston. I didn’t like the idea of him in my house, but the idea of Rodgar popping in for another unexpected visit and finding him inside made it easier to deal with. They shut the door and walked me down the hall. The smoke in the stairwell was the purple of storm clouds at my level and the color of burning coals at the top. The creatures out the doorways watched me like I was the center of a song and dance troupe.

When we got outside the wine-colored sky was ruffled with clouds in pink and orange and the dark of night had already settled down in the corners and crevices of the alley. The doorman who wasn’t Sid looked down at his feet when I tried to meet his eyes. I would have been mad but I couldn’t help remembering the big plank of iron banded oak that stood lazily next to my door as I had walked out. I hoped the kid had at least been paid off for letting them in.

Kreaton walked me down the alley with his left hand on my shoulder. His right hand swung freely and he had a big broad boar knife in it that would have made a nice sword for me. Crossbow guy walked behind us and whistled as we approached a carriage. A guy standing next to it tamped out a pipe and got up into the driver's seat. Another guy standing out in the street walked around and climbed into the cab. I turned my head to look around the street on the off chance I could catch a familiar face and Kreaton’s big hand shot up from my shoulder to lay on my hair like a helmet. He jerked my head forward and it took a lot for me not to start throwing strikes right there.

“Eyes front guy. Get in.” he said.

I climbed in and the guy who had gotten in before me pulled me into the seat next to him. Kreaton sat down on the other side of me and crossbow guy sat across from us. He set the crossbow on his lap pointed at me. I thought it was a bit overkill. Kreaton had sheathed his knife and draped his right hand across the back of the seat behind my shoulders with his big ringed hand hanging next to my face. The guy to my right had a three-sided knife in his right hand. You’d have thought I was two orcs riding a drake from all the steel. We stared in silence for a bit as we got moving. The small windows had been covered with a rough fabric and someone’s breath smelled of onions and worse. I was counting blocks in my head by the way the sound outside opened up whenever the buildings gave way to an intersection. I tracked the turns with the mnemonics I had learned almost five years ago. Not that any of this would do any good. They surely didn’t give a shit if I knew where we ended up. After about an hour I probably wouldn’t even be able to spell my own name. But I did it all without meaning to and it would have taken more effort not to do it. After about half an hour of silence, I decided to break the ice down.

“So what’s this all about friends? Gonna put the hurt on me till I give out the names of all my girlfriends?”

Crossbow guy had flinched when I started talking. The big guy didn’t move and the other guy tensed up.

“You know how it is, Alany. You’ve run with Rodgar long enough to know where you are in the game.” The big guy rumbled like he was explaining that the suns shine.

“Careful with that name, he might come calling.” I said

“We already said we ain’t worried about him, guy. Try another line.” The crossbow guy said.

“How about this one. I don’t know where I am in this because I don’t know what game you boys are playing. You said I been asking about a girl and that’s true, but I’m working under coin on this one.”

“Ain't no signature on this, we asked around. You think we didn’t? You running this one solo, and you're gonna deal with it solo. Rodgar be damned.” This was the first I heard out of the guy to my right. He emphasized his speech by pointing his blade.

“Ask again.” I said.

“Now the begging starts, ha.” Said the crossbow guy.

“Look, don’t take this the wrong way, but I know your crew don’t have the ear of as many people as you’d like, and I say you might wanna ask extra nice on this one, cause the coin I’m moving under rattles around in a lot of pockets.”

Crosbow guy laughed. “Ha, yea, sure smart guy. First, we gotta watch out for Rodgar, and now we gotta be careful cause some captain signed you on. Ain’t no contract friend. All of them are right where the syndicate can read ‘em and you ain’t on one since the last time you muscled under Rodgar.”

“This one ain’t in the books, and if you knew half as much as you put on you'd know contracts get put behind the curtain all the time.” I hadn’t even finished talking when the guy to my right started laughing good and low.

“Yea, bud, you’re on a black sheet with the syndicate, and I’m a dragon prince. If you was so much as in line for a black sheet, we never would have gotten you out of that piss hole you call a home. Ha ha, the fucking black sheets he says.”

“The black sheets ain’t all cutting down governors and hitting painted men. The job I’m on is personal to someone, and if you can’t put together why that might be after all the loose girls you talked to trying to find me, then-“

Crossbow guy raised his weapon a bit and cut me off.

“All right, sure smart guy, you’re working a hush job for a painted prince, and it’d be real bad for us if we decide to carve you up, so we should just let you out now with sorrys and kisses, right? Fucking brilliant. Working the black sheets and handing out address cards. I hope the shit you say under the knife is half as funny.”

It had been a few more blocks during all this and we hadn’t crossed a bridge of any size. The carriage had taken two lefts to turn around back when we left my apartment, and I already guessed we were deep in the Stalls now. The light through the flour sack curtains was a dim washed-out orange and dying by the minute. I heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps on the raised wooden sidewalks of the Stalls.

So far during my little ride, I had learned that crossbow guy was jumpy, the big guy was calm in the way only someone who can lift most of his opponents over his head can be, and the guy to my right hadn’t used his knife much. He moved it too much and enjoyed changing the grip too often. I decided on my next move and controlled my breathing. No matter how it played out, if I didn’t get cut I was probably magic.

I brought out my best impersonation of a guy who was scared to death and trying not to show it.

“If you’re eager to cut a guy, then so be it, but I don’t know what you expect to get out of it. I’m a guy on a job. Why don’t you tell me what your game is and maybe we can help each other out?”

“Ha! There it is! Not even there yet and you’re ready to sing? Too bad, smart guy. You shoulda been more helpful at your spot. You'd be snug in bed by now.” The crossbow guy spat when he laughed.

I shifted in my seat to the left and I saw crossbow guy glance at the right door. The guy to my right steadied his grip on his dagger. The big guy didn’t move. He knew he didn’t need to.

“I don’t mean spill my guts, I just mean there might be a way for both of us to come to an agreement without any blood. We’re both working for someone.” I said.

“I'm not the one who should be concerned about blood.” Said the crossbow guy.

I glanced down at the crossbow then looked away like it was the figure of death trying to get my attention. Crossbow guy noticed this and leveled his weapon at my gut and placed his first two fingers over the trigger bar. It was a simple shooting mechanism, not the trigger system of the modern ratchet bows, and I had heard him swing the safety lever out of place as he sat down. That made things easier.

“Did Marston mention we knew each other?” I said. That did the trick. Crossbow guy's eyes narrowed and I could feel the guy to my right shift slightly. I only left about half a second after I said it to get their minds working, then I kicked the crossbow to the left with my right leg.

The guy was jumpy enough that he squeezed the trigger out of instinct and the bolt went into the big guys gut up to the fletching. He grunted and brought his hands together on the bolt. I had ducked right after I kicked so his big arm went just over my head from behind. I rolled into the duck off the seat, across the cab, and slammed my entire body weight into crossbow guy, with my shoulder smashing his head back into the wood of the cab and breaking his nose. I faced the door that had been to my right and braced myself. Knife guy snarled and moved to get in front of it with his blade flashing out at me. The big guy reached out to stop me jumping forward towards it.

I threw myself backward and slammed out the other door, taking it half off the hinges. The big guy made a last effort to grab at my legs but forgot about the bolt. As he leaned forward he roared and threw himself back against the seat as if something had struck him. I came out almost fully horizontal and crashed into some people on the deck. They cursed and I sprang to my feet.

We were in the Stalls alright. The towering, clustered, over packed apartments and shop faces pressed in on all sides. A mesh of floating wooden walkways wove through them like a fisherman’s net, running alongside the street and crossing over it at regular intervals. All around lamps swung and flickered in the dying evening. The street was full of cabs and carts, and many drivers had stood straight up upon hearing the commotion. I was standing on the wooden continuous deck that served as a sidewalk down here at the street level. The storefronts and inns were raised up so that people looked down on me out windows and doorways as I ran. The driver of the cab yelled out behind me.

“Stop him! Sixty stars!”

I saw a few people look my way like dogs wondering if the table food was worth the beating, but I was too fast for them. I heard the driver curse and his voice change as he clattered down from the top of the cab. I ran up the first ramp I came to and got up to the second level. The walkways up here were packed with workers coming home with the dark. I weaved through them and took in the view at the same time to get my bearings. I saw the land rise up on the great slab to the south a few miles away, where wooden buildings gave way to brick towers. The Beros river was half a mile to the east.

I heard screams and loud curses as the guys behind me cut a path through the crowd with less care than I did. I had to make a breakout fast, or turn and stop them for good. I came to an intersection and glanced down. There was a gap in the foot traffic going across. I glanced back and saw the driver with a spike in his hand and made up my mind. I was sick of knives, especially as didn’t have mine on me. I looked back down and the gap was still clear, thanks to a good number of people looking up at me, so I jumped.

The people on the ground took a step back and the driver behind me cursed. I hit the ground rolling like I had done a thousand times falling out of ships and jumping out of windows half the world away. It still scared the hell out of me and I took a beating from the dirt.

When I was on my feet I took off to the right. I heard the clatter of the two guys scrambling on the planks above trying to find the nearest ramp down. I ran and bounced through the cabs on the streets and veered left. I heard some yelling behind me to the right that told me they had made it down but I was already turning left at the first street. I hugged the walls and turned left again down an alley. I ran halfway down it until I saw a doorway and pressed myself inside of it. I heard the shouts in the street grow louder and closer. Then they got quieter and farther away. I stepped out and jogged the rest of the way down the alley. I moved onto the sidewalk and into the flow of foot traffic headed south.

I avoided the lamplight as best I could and wiped the mud off my face and clothes. I quickened my pace when I heard shouts a street over. After a minute I stopped hearing them and slowed down again. I got to the end of the block and saw the knife guy pass under a lamp across the street. I didn’t see the driver with him, they must have split up. I started walking like a guy who had done twelve hours of good honest work and was heading home to remind his wife what flesh was for. I crossed the street and passed within twenty paces of him and kept on going. An hour later I was back in my neighborhood.