Haggit glared at her for a long moment, bit into the soldat with his front tooth, then rose and went out. One by one all the other customers drifted out, too. Not one of Chenaya's coins remained on the floor.
"Now ye've scared away my business," Mama Becho complained. She still scoured the same mug with the same filthy rag. "Might as well get comfy, honey." She waved at the cloth-covered furniture that served in place of stools and tables. "No tellin' when Zip'11 turn up. Thet boy comes an' goes as he pleases."
Chenaya remained where she was as the old woman disappeared to fetch her wine. She took a deep breath and let it out. Zip would turn up, she had no doubt. She'd spread enough wealth to insure that; she'd killed his enemies, too. He'd come all right, if only out of curiosity.
She took another deep breath and held it. What was that odor? She glanced at the doorway Mama Becho had gone through. An old, worn blanket hung across it; a thin, tenuous smoke wafted around the edges.
Krrf smoke.
She wet her lips slyly and wondered how Gestus and Dismas were faring.
Two bitter cups of wine and one cup of water later, the man she had come to find mercifully walked in, leaving, by the sound of things, a couple of his cronies standing guard in the alleyway. Mama Becho made a discreet nod of greeting and headed for the back room.
"Don't bother listening through the curtain or one of the cracks in the wall. Mama," Zip called and waved his hand to draw her back. "Up here-where I can keep an eye on you, too." Mama Becho put on a look of wounded innocence and reached for another mug to polish.
Zip walked calmly up to Chenaya; his gaze ran unabashedly up and down her body.
"There's a lot more swagger in your step than when we met in Ratfall," she commented wryly.
His gaze met hers with unconcealed arrogance. "You've got a lot less muscle with you this time," he answered bluntly. "What do you want, Chenaya? Did Tempus send you?"
She laughed. Her hand reached out to touch his shoulder, drifted down over his chest, then resumed its place at her belt. Hard, lean muscle beneath his clothing, she'd discovered, no fat. "Tempus Thales isn't quite the puppeteer he thinks himself."
Zip leaned on the board, close to her, giving her a long look. "I wouldn't tell him that-not me."
He had a nice face, she realized. Young and rugged, crowned by a mop of dark hair. Sweat-tracks lined his brow and cheeks, and there were circles of dirt around his neck where the flesh showed above his rough-woven tunic. He smelled, but it was a man's musky odor, not the stench of Downwind. She stared brazenly into his eyes and chuckled.
"Oh, I've taken his measure," she said, "and he comes up short."
"He hears the voice of the Storm God," Zip cautioned with an enigmatic, taut, little smile.
"He hears voices, all right." She caught a piece of his tunic and pulled his face close to hers. In conspiratorial tones she whispered, loud enough still for any to hear, "But the Storm God?" She shrugged meaningfully. "Between you and me and these others, I suspect he's just a crazy, common madman. He uses the so called voices to excuse his perversions and aberrations. After all, he can't be blamed-and needn't take responsibility for his actions-if divine voices compel him. He's only a poor avatar."
Chenaya didn't actually believe it; she had little doubt of the veracity of Tempus's relationship with the Storm Gods. Her own experiences with Savankala were proof enough that such god/mortal alliances evolved. Still, it was a delicious rumor to start.
Zip picked up the mug of beer Mama Becho had placed at his elbow. He took a long drink, regarding Chenaya over the rim. He set the vessel down between them. "You threw away a lot of money to find me, woman," he said finally. "Why? Not just to gossip about the Riddler."
She gave him her look of mock-innocence, picked up his mug, and drained the contents. "But I did want to talk about Tempus," she replied. "At least about a proposal Tempus suggested to me."
She crooked a finger, beckoning him close again. "Your Riddler wants me to seize control of your PFLS. He thinks I can shape it into an adequate defense force to replace his Stepsons and the 3rd Commando when he leads them out of Sanctuary."
A hint of red colored Zip's cheeks. He straightened, took a step away from her. "You play dangerous games, Rankan." His eyes glinted. "So you'll just take over? You think it's that easy?" He chuckled at her.
She threw a fist at his face. Zip raised an arm to block it. But her move was only a feint. Chenaya caught his rising arm at the elbow, tugged, and kicked his foot when he tried to catch his balance. Zip fell heavily, stunned. She straddled him, sat on his chest, and brought one of her boot daggers to rest at his throat.
Then, she smiled at Zip, and suddenly her lips crushed down on his. There was power in her kiss; it didn't surprise her at all when he began to return it. She sat up, wiped her mouth, grinning.
"Just that easy. Zip, my love," she told him. "And Tempus knows it. That's why he approached me." She tangled her hand through his hair and kissed him again.
When she sat up, the point of her blade flashed downward to bite deeply into the boards near Zip's ear. She left it quivering there while she loosened the laces at the neck of his dirty tunic. "But I'm not interested in running your little social club," she whispered, "and what Tempus wants is unimportant." She dragged her nails teasingly over the exposed portion of his chest. "However, I have some proposals of my own. Would you like to hear them?"
His eyes reflected so much: uncertainty, defiance, curiosity, lust-all half hidden behind a facade of nonchalance. Zip drew a breath. "Get the frog off of me." The knife was still there by his ear. He could have gone for it-his eyes slid that way-but he didn't.
She patted his cheek. "Soon, lover, when we have an agreement. But right now. Mama Becho is going to bring us a couple more drinks, right. Mama?"
The old proprietor said nothing, but waddled over with two mugs of bad wine. It was too far for her to bend over and place them on the floor, so Chenaya reached up to accept them. Mama Becho grumbled incoherently and backed away.
"I'm supposed to drink from here?" Zip asked caustically.
Chenaya moved one of the mugs near to his head, dipped a finger in it, and held it to his lips. After a moment's hesitation, Zip's tongue poked out and licked away the red droplets, their gazes remaining locked all the while.
"I know the funds from your Nisi supporters have dried up lately." Chenaya dipped her finger again and held it for him to suck. "The PFLS needs money, like any group, and I've got plenty of that. We've also got mutual enemies, so it's only natural that we should join our efforts." She paused long enough to swallow a draught from her own cup. "You want to free Sanctuary from the Rankans and Beysibs." She tapped his chest. "I want to drive out the Beysibs, too. But it looks like I've got to get rid of a Rankan to do that."
One of Zip's men slipped through the door and made a move toward his leader. A throwing star flashed briefly through a random sunbeam that spilled through a crack in the ceiling and thunked into the wall. The man leaped back. Chenaya clucked her tongue and wagged her finger, and he leaned uncomfortably against the doorjamb.
"Kadakithis?" Zip guessed. "But isn't he your cousin?"
She spat. "He's going to marry that fish-eyed slut, Shupan-sea, in defiance of Rankan law. Bad enough that he allowed them to land here without a fight. Bad enough that he beds the silly carp. But to marry one? To make her part of the royal family, a princess of Ranke?" She spat again. "Blood is only so thick, lover."