Masquerades - Kate Novak [56]
"So how do you know who to talk to?" Alias asked.
"Oh, I don't seek out my sources," Jamal replied. They come to me. You see, I have many loyal fans, and, of course, some people just can't resist the temptation to see their story played out."
"And others can't resist the five copper she pays per story," Mintassan added as he joined them with the tea tray.
"So you're an information broker," Alias stated.
"More of a collector," Jamal corrected. "I don't sell what I get, but I do put it on display-in my performances. Like a sage, I specialize. All things Westgate: local lore, noble gossip, Night Masks, the city's new cheap hero, Alias the Sell-Sword. Congratulations, by the way, on taking down Littleboy, and nabbing Timmy the Ghast and Bandilegs's bunch."
"Who told you about all that?" Alias asked.
"Oh, I never reveal my sources. They trust me because of that," Jamal explained as she accepted the teacup Mintassan handed her.
Alias thought of all the people who knew about her activities last night. The thieves themselves, the scullery maids, the Turmishmen, Big Edna and her customers, the watch, and no doubt lots of people looking down from windows, too afraid to go out at night, but curious enough to watch the street.
Jamal sipped her tea, then said, "Littleboy's fall and Timmy's bath are part of our afternoon performance, if my stand-in thinks he's ready for the job."
Alias sighed with exasperation. "Why can't you tell stories about other heroes. The Knights of Myth Drannor, the Harpers, the Swanmays?"
Those are old legends," Jamal argued. "They're fine for summer stock theater. But a fresh, young, cheap hero, walking the street where people can point her out to their children, that's going to inspire people. They've lived in silent fear of the Night Masks, certain the guild could never be defeated. You prove otherwise, and now they can't help but talk about you. Soon talk becomes action. I've already heard that last night, over on Thunn-side, a crowd pummeled three Night Mask bully boys who beat up a barmaid. They'll be part of the performance, too. Eventually there'll be cheap heroes popping up all over the city. Courage is contagious."
"Courage can also be dangerous," Alias pointed out, "as you may have noted when they burned your house down."
"True," Jamal agreed, "but the Faceless won't focus on the anonymous cheap heroes. He'll focus on you."
"Perhaps I shouldn't be staying at Blais House," Alias commented.
Mintassan handed Alias a mug of tea. "Blais House is exactly where you should be," he insisted. "It has… protections of its own. Consider it a safe haven. It's on the street that you'll have to watch your back."
"Durgar thinks the Faceless and the Night Masters are myths," Alias said.
"Durgar hasn't got my sources," Jamal countered.
"What sources?" Alias demanded.
The Night Masks themselves, for one. They aren't about to go to the city's judge and tell him about the
Faceless. They talk business, though, in taverns where a certain disguised actress can get work as a barkeep any time. And then sometimes the branded ones are angry enough to come to me."
"The branded ones?" Alias asked.
The Faceless has a magical item with the power to burn a domino mask brand into the face of someone who's earned his displeasure. Sometimes the brand is too deep to be healed without leaving a scar. Then the branded one has no choice but to flee the city. About seven years ago a man claiming to be a Night Master came to me with such a brand. In exchange for safe passage from the city he told me a lot about the Night Masks organization. He said that the original Faceless, the founder of the Night Masks guild, had been assassinated by some new person who'd just taken up the old Faceless's magical regalia, and hence the office of the lord of the Night Masters. The new Faceless branded this Night Master when he'd challenged him over the right to hold the office.
"Later that year, another Night Mask, some second-story