Masquerades - Kate Novak [48]
Behind them, the audience applauded again as the performers took a final curtain call, and the puppeteers huckstered once again for loose change.
"About tonight's dinner-" Victor said, looking down at the ground.
Alias sensed his discomfort and remembered the croamarkh's sharp commands. "I'm afraid we'll have to decline your offer," she interrupted hastily. "Dragonbait reminded me we have a previous engagement. I will keep in mind your suggestions about the Gateside district, though."
Victor looked up at the swordswoman with a sheepish grin. "You heard Father dressing me down, didn't you? That's very gracious of you to provide me with an out. Still, I ought to apologize for extending an invitation I could not honor."
"I'm sure there'll be another chance to honor it," Alias replied, offering Victor her hand.
Victor smiled with delight. "More than one, I hope," he replied, clasping her hand in both of his own.
The swordswoman blushed. "We've kept you from your work too long," she said. "Please, don't feel obliged to see us back to our inn. We need to familiarize ourselves with the streets, and we really do have a previous engagement."
Victor held her hand a moment longer. "In spite of what Durgar says, I have a good feeling about you. You're just the hero this town needs. I know you'll succeed."
"I'll do my best," Alias promised.
The young merchant released her hand and bowed. Without further words, as if he might become overwhelmed with emotion if he spoke again, Lord Victor climbed into his carriage, took up the reins, and drove away.
"So dowe have another engagement?" Dragonbait queried with amusement. "Or did you only say that so Lord Victor would return your hand?" he teased.
"I guess there's no way around it," Alias said. "I'm going to have to go back to Mintassan's with you and wind up playing 'Ask-me-another about the saurials."
"So you can grill himfor information on the Night Masks," Dragonbait guessed.
"You know my methods," Alias replied.
"Then?"
"Then, although they don't know it yet, we have an engagement with the Night Masks. With any luck, more than one engagement."
Eight
Engagements
Timmy the Ghast had not earned his appellation from any kinship to the undead or for his revulsion of the clergy, but rather for the simple fact that he smelled as bad as (some said worse than) a ghast. Timmy's unique personal scent was the result of his chosen career and his less-than-fastidious attitude about his personal hygiene. Timmy was a midden man. He broke into townhouses and family quarters through the kitchen waste pits. While the thief occasionally gained access from a wood or coal cellar, the contents of the kitchen refuse never deterred him from making an entry if the midden was his only choice. Unlike other midden men, however, Timmy never felt compelled to bathe after a night's work; the closest he came to washing was being caught in a drenching rainstorm. Consequently, while Timmy the Ghast had many coworkers, he had very few drinking companions.
Tonight Timmy had begun his evening's work on a burglary assigned to him by the Night Masters. He was to steal a certain necklace from a certain courtier's daughter. Although Timmy wasn't given the necklace's history, he assumed it had been a gift from a wealthy merchant who had imagined himself enamored of the gift's recipient. Now, no doubt, the relationship had cooled, and the gift giver wanted to dispose of the gift so that it could not haunt him-or his wife-in the future. Timmy would be paid five hundred gold for the necklace and was free to keep any incidental plunder that came his way. According to Timmy's sources, the family was at a dinner
engagement, the servants had been given the night off, and the household had no dogs. Timmy slithered through the tunnel he'd dug into the refuse pit and waded his way to the access door, unperturbed by the stench, the