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Authors: Alexey Pehov
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mission.”
“Well, we kind of carried out the mission yesterday,” said Shen through clenched teeth, not taking his eyes off Midge.
“It’s for me to decide if we’ve carried it out or not. Midge, get up off your ass and go find Bamut. Consider it the start of your shift. And you, sit down and eat.”
“You took a dislike to me from the start. Is that not so?” said Shen as he sat down on the bench.
Whip waited until his shaf had been brought to him, took a sip, and only then did he answer.
“All right then, lad. I’ll be honest with you. You’re unnecessary to our well-worn threesome. Like a fifth wheel on a wagon. I don’t know what pit Mols dragged you out of. And what’s worse—I don’t know what your deal is. I don’t know if we can count on you, and I don’t know what to expect from you.”
“So you should test me,” said the blue-eyed man.
“How can I? For right now, as long as we can’t verify that you’re good at your job, I, Midge, and even Bamut, good soul that he is, will think you’re a burden.”
Shen scowled and then laughed shortly.
“Say what you like! If you think I’m happy to be in your company, you are sadly mistaken. Gallivanting around the periphery of the Empire, being food for mosquitoes and rubbing shoulders with sullen old fools is not as much fun as you think!”
Whip did not take offense at the word “fools.”
“My, my, aren’t you scholarly. The words you know. ‘Periphery’!”
Shen, realizing he’d blundered, sniffed loudly and began digging into his food. The leader of the team watched him mockingly. This was not the first time the kid had let his tongue slip. Every once in a while he peppered his speech with words or phrases that sounded strange to the ears of a native of the underworld. The lad played his part well, but it was clear he didn’t have enough experience. However, Mols surely had to have a reason for sending him with them.
“Don’t mess with Midge. That’s my advice to you. My friendly advice. And don’t make such a face; you’re still too much of a pup to tangle with the likes of him. Midge will chew you up and spit you out. Leave him alone, I’m telling you.”
“Yeah, sure, that runt will give it to me good!” replied Shen, spearing a piece of pork sausage. “He means nothing to me. I’d rather you talked to me about how much longer we’re going to be hanging about here.”
“We only got here yesterday and you’re already homesick?”
“Imagine that.… So, how long?”
“Right now time is working against our friend. He’s not an idiot; he’s bound to realize that if we could find him, others could, too. A day, maybe two and he and his woman will go into hiding.”
“And?”
“Like I already said, Gray is an intelligent man. He understands that concealing himself will be hard. When there’s such a price on your head, they’ll even follow you down into the Abyss. He could put off the day of his death by running away to the edges of the Inhabitable Lands. He could creep into the swamps of the Blazogs, or into the aeries of the Je’arre, or the forests of the Highborn, but sooner or later he’ll get caught. You don’t just find ten thousand sorens lying about on the road. The hunters will find them, mark my words. There’s only one real option—to get them to leave you alone you have to kill the client.”
“So you think Joch is doomed?”
“Well, I think he has very little chance of seeing the next Feast of the Name.”
“That’s too bad. They say that he disperses money on all the city holidays. Al’sgara will lose much with his death.”
“So will the Viceroy. His hand appreciates the money, too. He’s everything to everyone. I’ve never seen another whose ass can fit so well on three different stools. The Emperor, the Walkers, and his own private interests. Ha! Sometimes I think being the Viceroy isn’t too shabby.”
“Mmm-hmm. It’s a lucrative business. And not boring. All you have
“Well, we kind of carried out the mission yesterday,” said Shen through clenched teeth, not taking his eyes off Midge.
“It’s for me to decide if we’ve carried it out or not. Midge, get up off your ass and go find Bamut. Consider it the start of your shift. And you, sit down and eat.”
“You took a dislike to me from the start. Is that not so?” said Shen as he sat down on the bench.
Whip waited until his shaf had been brought to him, took a sip, and only then did he answer.
“All right then, lad. I’ll be honest with you. You’re unnecessary to our well-worn threesome. Like a fifth wheel on a wagon. I don’t know what pit Mols dragged you out of. And what’s worse—I don’t know what your deal is. I don’t know if we can count on you, and I don’t know what to expect from you.”
“So you should test me,” said the blue-eyed man.
“How can I? For right now, as long as we can’t verify that you’re good at your job, I, Midge, and even Bamut, good soul that he is, will think you’re a burden.”
Shen scowled and then laughed shortly.
“Say what you like! If you think I’m happy to be in your company, you are sadly mistaken. Gallivanting around the periphery of the Empire, being food for mosquitoes and rubbing shoulders with sullen old fools is not as much fun as you think!”
Whip did not take offense at the word “fools.”
“My, my, aren’t you scholarly. The words you know. ‘Periphery’!”
Shen, realizing he’d blundered, sniffed loudly and began digging into his food. The leader of the team watched him mockingly. This was not the first time the kid had let his tongue slip. Every once in a while he peppered his speech with words or phrases that sounded strange to the ears of a native of the underworld. The lad played his part well, but it was clear he didn’t have enough experience. However, Mols surely had to have a reason for sending him with them.
“Don’t mess with Midge. That’s my advice to you. My friendly advice. And don’t make such a face; you’re still too much of a pup to tangle with the likes of him. Midge will chew you up and spit you out. Leave him alone, I’m telling you.”
“Yeah, sure, that runt will give it to me good!” replied Shen, spearing a piece of pork sausage. “He means nothing to me. I’d rather you talked to me about how much longer we’re going to be hanging about here.”
“We only got here yesterday and you’re already homesick?”
“Imagine that.… So, how long?”
“Right now time is working against our friend. He’s not an idiot; he’s bound to realize that if we could find him, others could, too. A day, maybe two and he and his woman will go into hiding.”
“And?”
“Like I already said, Gray is an intelligent man. He understands that concealing himself will be hard. When there’s such a price on your head, they’ll even follow you down into the Abyss. He could put off the day of his death by running away to the edges of the Inhabitable Lands. He could creep into the swamps of the Blazogs, or into the aeries of the Je’arre, or the forests of the Highborn, but sooner or later he’ll get caught. You don’t just find ten thousand sorens lying about on the road. The hunters will find them, mark my words. There’s only one real option—to get them to leave you alone you have to kill the client.”
“So you think Joch is doomed?”
“Well, I think he has very little chance of seeing the next Feast of the Name.”
“That’s too bad. They say that he disperses money on all the city holidays. Al’sgara will lose much with his death.”
“So will the Viceroy. His hand appreciates the money, too. He’s everything to everyone. I’ve never seen another whose ass can fit so well on three different stools. The Emperor, the Walkers, and his own private interests. Ha! Sometimes I think being the Viceroy isn’t too shabby.”
“Mmm-hmm. It’s a lucrative business. And not boring. All you have
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