"You didn't steal this parchment from his room?"
"Of course not! I remembered what Parin said about drawings in his room and thought I might need to copy something. I took all the materials with me."
"Except a rope."
At first glance Alec's map, done in a feverish haste by an unpracticed hand, seemed little more than a meaningless scrawl of lines.
"I think it's a map of the sewers," said Alec.
"There wasn't any writing on it, just marks here and there, but it looked a lot like those plans we found at Kassarie's, remember?" He pointed to a circle near the bottom of the sheet. "I'd say this represents the outlet where they're working, and this is probably the top of the channel, where we found the sabotaged grate."
Seregil nodded slowly, then tapped a spot just beyond where a number of lines radiated out from a single terminus. "Several large channels come together here. One goes west, toward the Noble Quarter; this one here probably leads under the middle of the city—Is this exactly what you saw, line for line?"
"I think so, but I didn't get all of it. It was really complicated and I was jumping at every noise. Finally I did hear someone coming, so I just grabbed what I had and rabbited. Sorry."
"No, no, you did well," Seregil mused, still puzzling over the layout. "This is solid grounds for arresting him, but how in hell did he get this much information?"
"Could the Plenimarans use it to attack the city through the sewers?"
"Not a mil-scale attack, but they could cause plenty of other mischief-enemy sappers opening gates from inside, assassins popping out of the royal privies, or anywhere else in the city, for that matter." Straightening up, he thumped Alec proudly on the shoulder. "Good work. This is more than I came up with."
Alec colored, grinning. "The smiths I talked to from his crew expect to be done in a couple of weeks. That means that Rythel has to complete whatever work he has left on this by then." He paused. "What I want to know is how he learned all this if he never goes out at night and never leaves the work site?"
"That's the real question, isn't it? Exploring and mapping out all these tunnels would take weeks, months even. But what if you find someone who knows already?"
"Like a Scavenger!"
"Or a gaterunner. What did that one who jumped me say?"
"Something about strangers in the sewers, someone she was afraid of."
"Right." Seregil looked down at the smudged parchment, tapping his chin thoughtfully. "I wonder what Tym's up to these days?"
"Tym?"
"You must remember him, the thief who cut your purse for me that time?"
Alec grimaced. "I remember him, all right. He's not a gaterunner, is he?"
"No, but he has connections there, and just about everywhere else among the poor and the criminal. That's what makes him so useful to us."
"I didn't think it was his charm," Alec remarked sourly.
19
"How do you know he'll come?" Alec asked as they climbed to the empty room over the nameless lower city slophouse the following evening.
"He'll come." Seregil eyed the greasy table with distaste, then sat down on one of the stools next to it. "He's probably already around somewhere."
He hadn't been hard to contact An informal network permeated the lowest classes of the city like the roots of a tree; a coin and discreet word with the right party was usually sufficient.
Almost before Seregil had finished speaking, they heard a light step on the stairs behind them. Tym paused in the doorway, scanning the room suspiciously.
With a deferential nod to Seregil, he sauntered in.
Alec eyed the thief with carefully guarded dislike.
The last time Alec had seen him was outside the city that day with Micum and Beka. Cocky with his new skills, Alec had surprised him in a crowd, hoping to pay him back for cutting his purse.
Instead, Tym had nearly knifed him.
He was still thin and dirty as ever, and still cloaked in an air of hungry arrogance. Slinging one leg over the bench opposite Seregil, he favored Alec with a long, appraising sneer.
"Still with 'im, eh? Must be gettin' something you like."
Alec returned the look impassively.
Tym snorted a brief, humorless laugh and turned his attention to Seregil. "You asked after me?"
Seregil rested one fist on the table and slowly opened it to display a thick silver half sester.
"Any queer customers about?" he asked, using the common slang for spy.
Tym snorted again, a harsh, ugly sound. "What do you think?"
Seregil snapped his hand closed over the coin, opened it again. A second coin glittered in the hollow of his palm. "Are you working for any of them?"
Tym eyed the coins, an almost thoughtful look smoothing his narrow face for an instant. "Think I'd tell if I was?"
Seregil's hand closed, opened. Four coins.
Alec studied Tym's face. The aloof mask stayed firmly in place.
"Could be," Tym replied cautiously.
Close. Open. No coins.
That got a reaction. Tym sat forward, looking like a man who'd just overplayed his game. "Bugger! No, I ain't working for nobody, but there's them that might be."
Seregil opened his hand again. Five coins.
"Rat Tom come by a stash real suddenlike, wouldn't say where from," Tym confided, all crafty compliance now.
"Where's Rat Tom now?"
Tym shrugged. "Turned up dead in an alley not two weeks ago, throat cut."
"Who else?"
"Fast Mickle claims he did a papers job in Helm Street."
"What house?"
"Don't know."
"Where could I find Fast Mickle?"
Tym shrugged again. "Ain't seen him for a while."
Seregil snatched the coins away with a disgusted sigh and rose, motioning for Alec to follow. "Let's go. There's nothing to be learned here."
"There's talk," Tym added hastily.
Halfway to the door already, Seregil turned with an exasperated frown. "What talk?"
"It's the gaterunners mostly. Some turn up flush all of a sudden, then they turn up dead or not at all."
Alec exchanged a quick look with Seregil, thinking of what the woman had told them in the sewers.
"Madrin, Dinstil, Slim Lily, Wanderin' Ki, all of 'em dead one way or another just in the last month," Tym continued.
"Tarl's been lookin" for Farin the Fish for a week now."
"I thought Farin was a breaker?" Seregil returned to the table. Alec remained standing just behind him.
"He is, but still it's funny he's gone. Him and Tarl been together for years."
"Any others?"
"Virella maybe, she's another runner, but you don't never know with her. And that young breaker, Shady—they found her floating in the harbor out past the moles. Some are even wondering about the Rhiminee Cat, but he's another you don't never know about."
Seregil jingled the coins in his fist. "Who's supposed to be doing all this killing?"
For the first time Tym looked uneasy. "Don't know. Don't nobody know, and that is strange. The snuffers claim ain't none of them doing it. Folks is gettin' nervous. You don't hardly know whether to take a job or not."
"I have a job, if you're interested," Seregil told him, sliding the silver enticingly closer.
Tym looked hungrily at the stack of coins. "This wouldn't be a running job would it?"
"No, just a snoop. There's a house near here I want watched. If you see anyone you know go in—breaker, runner, keek, anything — I want to know about it. Or anyone you think doesn't fit with the neighborhood. Is that clear?"