follow you."
" No ," Sharkbait repeated firmly. "I go alone, or I don't go at all."
"Very well," Ferret replied. "Who wants to come with me? Squirrel? Kitten?"
" Ferret! " Sharkbait cried, outraged. "What purpose would that serve? You wouldn't recognize the Azhere Councilor."
The thief shrugged. "You think I canna identify flash slumming?"
Sharkbait stared at her, then laughed mirthlessly. "And to think I wondered how you persuaded that tough scavenger Khyzhan to do what you wanted." He made an elaborate bow to her, then motioned her to precede him through the doorway. He looked back at the others. "And you , for the love of the gods, stay here ."
***
"So who's Magpie?" Sharkbait asked as they lurked in the shadows outside the crowded tavern.
"Goodness. Aught you dinna know," Ferret retorted. "The rest of the world knows her as Adyce. She's a barmaid here."
"Oh. Her. Why do you call her Magpie?"
"She has a fondness for small, round shiny objects," Ferret said dryly. "Preferably silver. Shall we go in?"
"What? You're not planning to scale a wall and climb in a window?"
The thief ignored his biting tone. "The door's open," she pointed out, bland.
"Why, how observant you are. How have I managed without you?" He took her arm as they started inside.
The Replete Feline was crowded; there was no chance of securing a table commanding a view. Instead, they joined the press at the bar, and Sharkbait bought them mugs of ale. They nursed their drinks as they scanned the crowd covertly, all the while shamming a flirtatious conversation. When Ferret's cup was empty, she set it on a passing barmaid's tray and looked up through her lashes at Sharkbait.
"Let's go."
"What? Already?"
She smiled dazzlingly and nodded.
His answering expression was so wolfish, Ferret was hard put not to step back. "So you think he's here?"
She batted her eyelashes. "The table by the door; the man with the pointed beard, sitting with the skinny fellow with the green ring."
Sharkbait chucked her under the chin. There was something dangerous in the back of his eyes and in the grit in his voice. "My clever infant. Let's go."
They had to walk past the men's table in order to get out. As they drew abreast, the younger man hailed them. "I say, my good man: isn't she rather young?"
" Have you taken leave of your senses? " his companion hissed.
Sharkbait looked him up and down, with insolent attention, before he replied, "She's old in experience."
"It's barbaric—"
"My friend's had rather too much to drink," the man with the pointed beard began.
Ferret cut them both off. "Leave it," she said, firmly. "I must eat."
The thin fellow rose, pulling a purse from an inner pocket. "If it's money—"
"Cithanekh, sit down! " The older man made a grab for his companion's wrist.
What Ferret saw put real conviction in her voice. "Put that away! If you flash a Royal in here, you're apt to get us all killed." They stood, frozen like one of Mouse's pictures, until with a sigh, the man returned the purse to his pocket. "Look," Ferret patted his arm, consolingly. "It's kindly thought of, and I'm grateful; but you canna eat gold. Not in the Slums." Then she turned back to Sharkbait. "Come on, lover."
Sharkbait stopped walking once they were through the door and out of the spill of customers and lamplight. Ferret pulled him on. "Move," she urged.
He hesitated.
"Come on; let's run."
"Run?" he repeated, starting to move. "Gods, Ferret. You didn't! " Then, they were pelting for the twisting alleys of their home ground.
When they had put some distance between them and the tavern, they slowed to a walk. In the pallid light of the waning moon, Ferret saw the glint of Sharkbait's watchful eyes on her. She grinned, unrepentant.
"Yes: I picked his pocket," she answered his look. "So? I'm a thief."
"So much for being inconspicuous."
She hunched a shoulder. "He was going to remember us, in any case. Who is he, this Cithanekh?"
Sharkbait shook his head. "I'm not