Shadow Of Sanctuary

Claws scrabbled on stone on his left, a heavy body slithered closer in haste. He made a frantic move to get the knife out, but the guide jerked him to a standstill. 'Don't offend it,' the guide said. 'Don't try to look. Come on.'

A reptile hissed; and by that sound it was a big one. Something flicked over the surface of his boot and coiled about his ankle, instantly withdrawing. The guide drew him on, away from the touch and down a hall which echoed more closely on either hand, where the distance was all in front of them ... and into a place which smelled of coals and hot metal and strange, musky incense.

The guide stopped, on his right. 'Shadowspawn,' a new voice said, a throaty sigh, low, and to his left. He reached for the blindfold, hesitated. 'Go ahead,' the new voice invited him, and he pulled it down.

A robed and hooded form sat in this narrow marble hall - fine robes, in midnight blue and bright silver, in deep shadow, beside a heating brazier. Hanse blinked in the recent pressure on his eyes - the robes seemed to swell and sink in the vicinity of the chest, and the right arm, the hand resting visible ... it went dark, that hand, and then, a deception of his abused eyes, went pale and young. 'Shadowspawn.' The voice too was clearer, younger. 'You lost a friend last night. Do you want to know how?'

That unnerved him, a threat on a level he understood. His hand fidgeted towards his sheath-bearing wrist, his mind conjuring more and unblinded servants in the shadows.

'Ischade is her name,' the voice ofEnas Yorl continued, rougher now ... and was the figure itself smaller and wider? 'She's also a thief. And she killed Sjekso Kinzan. Do you want more?'

Hanse assumed a more careless stance, flipped the hand outward, palm up. 'Money got me here. Ifyou,want more of my time to listen to this, it costs.'

'She's in your own neighbourhood. That information might be worth even more than money to you.'

'What, this name of yours?'

'Ischade. A thief. She's better than you, Shadowspawn. Your knives might not stop her.' The voice roughened further. 'But you're good and you're smart. I've heard so. From - no matter. I have my sources. I'm told you're extraordinarily discreet.' He moved the fingers, a gesture sideways. 'Darous, give him the amulet.'

The blind man drew something from the heart of his robes; Hanse's eyes darted nervously from the wizard he was trying to watch to that distraction, a gold teardrop that spun and dazzled on a chain.

'Take it,' Enas Yorl said. A degree rougher yet. A sigh like the sea, or like hot iron plunging into water. 'This Ischade - steals from wizards. Steals spells and suchlike. Her own abilities are small in that regard... but she made a mistake once, and the spell on Ischade is nothing small or harmless. A man who shares her bed, shall we say? - discovers that. He dies ... of no apparent cause. Like your friend Kinzan. Like a number of others I know of. The curse affects her humour. Imagine - to pursue lover after lover and kill them all. If I hire you, Shadowspawn, you might be glad of such protections as I offer you. Take it.'

'Who says I'm to hire?' Hanse looked unhappily from servant to master. The hand which now peeped from the shifting robe was woman-delicate. 'Who says that a dozen Sjeksos are any of my concern? I'm my concern. Me. Hanse. I don't have any interest in Sjekso. So I just stay out of the whole business. That's what interests me.'

'Then you'll run, will you, and find some safer place to steal.' The voice ground like rocks tumbling. 'And you'll ignore my gold and protection. Both of which you may need. - It's no great thing I ask, simply a matter of spying out where she is. Did I ask you to go against her yourself? No. A small favour, well paid. And you've done favours like that before. Would you have that known - that you've worked in high places? Your past patron wouldn't appreciate that publicity. He wouldn't retaliate against me, no. But you - how long do you think you'd live, thief, if your connections went public?'

Hanse had sucked in his breath. He forced a grin then, struck a lighter pose, hand on hip. 'So, well, paid in gold, you said?'

'After.'

'Now.'

'Darous, give the man sufficient as earnest. And give him the amulet.'

Hanse turned from the wizard, whose voice had acquired a hissing quality: and the hand - had vanished into one of those blinks of the eye that deceived the mind and memory that anything had - a moment earlier - been there. Hanse took the chain and put it over his head. The amulet itself hit his bare throat and it was bitter and burning cold. The servant held out a purse. Hanse took that, felt the weight in his hand, opened the neck of it and looked at the gold and silver abundance inside. His heart beat wildly, while against his neck the metal failed to be warmed as metal ought, stayed there like a lump of ice. It sent a vague malaise through him, which changed character from moment to moment like -'So what am I supposed to do?' he asked. 'And where do I look?'

'A house,' a woman's voice said to his right, and he looked, blinked, found only the hooded form in the chair. 'Seventh in the alley called Snake. On the right as you go from the Serpentine at Acban's Passage. She lodges there. Mark what she does and where she goes. Don't attempt to prevent her. I only want to know the business that brought her to Sanctuary.'

Hanse let go a sigh, relief, for all that the robes shifted again -felt a wild confidence in himself (it might have been the money) that he could get out of this easily, and with still more money, and an employer satisfied, who was powerful and rich. Hanse Shadowspawn, Hanse the thief, small Hanse the knife ... had friends in high places, a condition unexpected. He expanded in this knowledge and stood loose, dropped the purse into his shirt, ignoring the chill at his neck. 'So, then, and I come here from time to time and report to you.'

'Darous will find you from time to time,' the same voice said. The changing seemed to have settled for the moment. 'Depend on that contact. Good-day to you. Darous will show you out.'

Hanse made a nourish of a bow, turned to the servant and indicated they should go.

'The blindfold,' the blind servant said. 'Use it, master thief. My master would regret an accident, especially now.'

Hanse put his hand on the metal droplet that hung like ice at his throat, turned to glower at the wizard. 'I thought this was supposed to take care of things like that.'

'Did I say so? No, I didn't say. I wouldn't be rash in relying on it. Against some things it has no protection at all. My guardians in the hall, for instance, would never notice it.'

'Then what good is it?'

'Much ... in its right place. Afraid, thief?'

'Huh,' Hanse said critically. Laughed and swung on his heel, caught the blind servant by the arm and started out with him. But remembering the movements in the outer hall, the thing which had brushed at his leg - 'All right, all right,' he said suddenly, and let go the man's arm to put the blindfold back in place. 'All right, rot you, wait.'

The thief went, and Enas Yorl rose from his chair. His shape had settled again into a form far more pleasant than most. He walked to a hall more interior to his house, examined hands delicate and fine, that were purest pleasure to touch - and all the worse when they would begin ... next moment or next day ... to change.