double of the Prince. Jimmy checked the body and found the ebon
hawk worn next to the skin and the black poison ring. There was no
longer any doubt. The Nighthawks were back. Jimmy steeled himself and
quickly cut open the man’s chest, removing the heart and
casting it into the sewer. With the Nighthawks one never knew which
were likely to rise again and serve their master, so it was best to
take no chances.
Jimmy abandoned
the lantern, left the body to float toward the sea with the other
garbage, and began his return to the palace. He hurried, regretting
the time lost in dealing with the corpse. Splashing noisily toward
the nearest exit back to the surface, Jimmy was confident the false
Prince was long gone. As he rounded a corner, a sudden alarm sounded
in his head, for an echo had rung false. Dodging, he was a moment
late. He avoided a sword blade slash but took a blow to the head from
the hilt. He was knocked hard against the wall, his head striking
brick. Pitching forward, he landed in the centre of the sewer
channel, going under muck-covered water. Half-dazed, he managed to
roll over, getting his face above the scum. Through a grey haze, he
could hear someone splashing in the water a short distance away. In a
strange detached way he knew someone was looking for him. But the
lantern lay back where the first man had fallen, and in the dark the
boy drifted away from the man who vainly sought to find him and end
his life.
Hands shook at
the boy, dragging him from an odd half-dream. He had thought it
strange he should be floating in the darkness, for he had to meet
with the Prince of Krondor. But he couldn’t find his good boots
and Master of Ceremonies deLacy would never allow him into the great
hall in his old ones.
Opening his
eyes, Jimmy discovered a leathery face hovering over his own. A
toothless smile greeted his return to full consciousness. “Well,
well,” said the old man with a chuckle. “You’re
back with us again, you are. I’ve seen all manner of things
floating in the sewers over the years. Never thought I’d see
the royal hangman tossed into the scumways, though.” He
continued to chuckle, his face a grotesque dancing mask in the
guttering candlelight.
Jimmy couldn’t
make sense of the old man’s words, until he remembered the hood
he had worn. The old man must have removed it. “Who . . .?”
“Tolly I’m
called, young Jimmy the Hand.” He chuckled. “Must have
come to some difficulty to find yourself in such a fix.”
“How
long?”
“Ten,
fifteen minutes. I heard the splashing about and went to see what’s
to-do. Found you floating. Thought you dead. So I pulled you away to
see if you carried gold. That other one was fit to bust he couldn’t
find you.” Again the chuckle. “He’d have found you
certain if you’d been left to float. But I hauled you to this
little tunnel I uses for a hidey and I’d lit no light till he
was on his way. Found this,” he said, returning Jimmy’s
pouch.
“Keep it.
You’ve saved my life, and more. Where’s the nearest way
to the street?”
The man helped
Jimmy to his feet. “You will find stairs to the basement of
Teech’s Tannery. It’s abandoned. It’s on the Avenue
of Smells.” Jimmy nodded. The street was Collington’s
Road, but all in the Poor Quarter called it the Avenue of Smells
because of the tanneries, slaughterhouses, and dyers located there.
Tolly said,
“You’re gone from the guild, Jimmy, but word’s come
down you might be poking about here and there, so I’ll tell you
the password tonight is “finch”. I don’t know who
those blokes fighting you were, but I’ve seen an odd crew down
here the last three days. I guess things move apace.”
Jimmy realized
this simple tofsman was trusting to the higher-ups in the Mockers to
deal with the intruders in his domain. “Yes, they will be dealt
with in a matter of days.” Jimmy considered. “Look,
there’s more than thirty gold in that pouch. Take word to
Alvarny the
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