Masquerades - Kate Novak [3]
The shortcut Alias took now plunged through an even more decaying quarter of the city. The alley was wider, as if the buildings on each side did not want to get too close to the greenish sewage that flowed down the center of the lane. The walls had been blackened by decades of grime and colored with graffiti. Any windows or doors that had once opened to the alley at the ground level were walled over with mismatched stone only slightly less dirt-encrusted than the surrounding stone.
Dragonbait ambled after Alias with a growing feeling of anxiety. He concentrated on his shensight, the ability to perceive good and evil, a gift from his gods to aid him in his duties. Although he could see nothing in the darkness, he could sense trouble up ahead on the right, two souls pricked by constant greed and rotted by a disgusting pleasure in the pain and humiliation of other creatures.
First one, then the other-hulking brutes, human, but a head taller than even Alias-stepped from the shadows. They were dressed in dark leather jerkins and trousers. The satin capes that hung over their shoulders fit so poorly that Alias suspected the capes had been acquired from much smaller and no doubt weaker persons. They had kohl-marked eyes and a broad swipe of soot running from temple to temple. They reminded Dragonbait of raccoons-with unsheathed swords.
The leader held up a gloved hand and thundered, "Hold, travelers. You need to answer a few questions."
Dragonbait growled, and Alias gave a short, almost imperceptible nod. She didn't need shensight to realize the pair meant trouble. "Who's doing the asking?" the swordswoman inquired politely.
"We are humble customs agents," said the lead raccoon, and his companion stifled a grin. "It is our duty to make sure travelers have the proper paperwork for items they bring in't'sale in Westgate, transactions they revoke here, and material for exportating-ah-taking out."
Alias, who could hardly check her own amusement, wondered who had taught this thief his patter. She heard the scrape of boots on hard earth behind her, and guessed there were more "agents" blocking escape from the mouth of the alley. Dragonbait would be aware of them with his shensight.
"Ah," said Alias, throwing back her cloak in a gesture to show that her hands were empty, and incidentally giving her easy access to her scabbard, "but as you can see, we have no such paperwork. Your fellow customs agents at the watch dock determined that we carried nothing of sufficient value to warrant any fees. As you can see, we carry only personal property. So you need waste no more of your time on us." She smiled sweetly.
The second raccoon edged forward and whispered something in the leader's ear. The lead raccoon waved him back in annoyance. "Well, y'know those boys at the dock are so overwarked, they get careless," the leader said. "For instance, your pet-"
"He is not a pet," Alias snapped, her smile becoming brittle. "He's my companion."
"-carries an interesting staff," continued the raccoon leader.
"My companion uses the staff because he is lame," Alias argued, her tone now more severe.
"Nonetheless, we'll have't'zamine it, prob'ly take it back to our superiors for-um-" The thief fumbled for
the word. No doubt he was new to the shakedown trade, more accustomed and suited to the mindless violence of muggings.
"Proper evaluation?" suggested Alias.
The thief nodded. "Prop'revaluation," he agreed and flashed a gap-toothed smile.
"I see," said Alias. "Dragonbait, show the nice man your staff."
The saurial limped forward, looking like a tired, lost, wounded puppy. He held his arms out with his palms upward, the staff resting across them. The raccoon leader towered over him and reached out to snare his prize with a free hand.
Dragonbait arched his tail around and slapped the ornamented end of the staff. The thick ash of the lower portion of the staff swung upward and smashed the thief square in the face. The thief