If the death squads had confined themselves to Maze, Shambles, and Downwind, noone would have known about them. Bodies in those streets were nothing new;neither Stepsons nor Rankan soldiers bothered counting them; near theslaughterhouses cheap crematoriums flourished; for those too poor even for that,there was the White Foal, taking ambiguous dross to the sea without complaint.But the squads ventured uptown, to the east side and the centre of Sanctuaryitself where the palace hierophants and the merchants lived and looked away fromdowntown, scented pomanders to their noses.

The Unicorn crowd no longer turned quiet when Niko and Janni entered; theirscruffy faces and shabby gear and bleary eyes proclaimed them no threat to themendicants or the whores. Competition, they were now considered, and it had beenhard to float the legend, harder to live it. Or to live it down, since none ofthe Stepsons but their task force leader, Crit (who himself had never movedamong the barracks ranks, proud and shining with oil and fine weapons and finerideals) knew that they had not quit but only worked shrouded in subterfuge onTempus's orders to flush the Nisibisi witch.

But the emergence of the death squads had raised the pitch, the ante, given thematter a new urgency. Some said it was because Shadowspawn, the thief, wasright: the god Vashanka had died and the Rankans would suffer their due. Theirdue or not, traders, politicians, and moneylenders - the 'oppressors' - werenightly dragged out into the streets, whole families slaughtered or burned alivein their houses, or hacked to pieces in their festooned wagons.

The agents ordered draughts from One-Thumb's new girl and she came back,cowering but determined, saying that One-Thumb must see their money first. Theyhad started this venture with the barman's help; he knew their provenance; theyknew his secret.

'Let's kill the swillmonger. Stealth,' Janni growled. They had little cash - afew soldats and some Machadi coppers - and couldn't draw their pay until theirwork was done.

'Steady, Janni. I'll talk to him. Girl, fetch two Rankan ales or you won't beable to close your legs for a week.'

He pushed back his bench and strode to the bar, aware that he was only halfjoking, that Sanctuary was rubbing him raw. Was the god dead? Was Tempus inthrall to the Froth Daughter who kept his company? Was Sanctuary the honeypot ofchaos? A hell from which no man emerged? He pushed a threesome of young pudsaside and whistled piercingly when he reached the bar. The big bartender lookedaround elaborately, raised a scar-crossed eyebrow, and ignored him. Stealthcounted to ten and then methodically began emptying other patrons' drinks on tothe counter. Men were few here; approximations cursed him and backed away; onewent for a beltknife but Stealth had a dirk in hand that gave him pause. Niko'sgear was dirty, but better than any of these had. And he was ready to clean hissoiled blade in any one of them. They sensed it; his peripheral perception readtheir moods, though he couldn't read their minds. Where his maat - his balanceonce had been was a cold, sick anger. In Sanctuary he had learned despair andfutility, and these had introduced him to fury. Options he once had consideredlast resorts, off the battlefield, came easily to mind now. Son of the armies,he was learning a different kind of war in Sanctuary, and learning to love thehavoc his own right arm could wreak. It was not a substitute for the equilibriumhe'd lost when his left-side leader died down by the docks, but if his partnerneeded souls to buy a better place in heaven, Niko would gladly send him doublehis comfort's price.

The ploy brought One-Thumb down to stop him. 'Stealth, I've had enough of you.'One-Thumb's mouth was swollen, his upper lip crusted with sores, but hisponderous bulk loomed large; from the corner of his eye Niko could see theUnicorn's bouncer leave his post and Janni intercept him.

Niko reached out and grabbed One-Thumb by the throat, even as the man's pawreached under the bar, where a weapon might lie. He pulled him close: 'Whatyou've had isn't even a shadow of what you're going to get, Turn-Turn, if youdon't mind your tongue. Turn back into the well-mannered little troll we bothknow and love, or you won't have a bar to hide behind by morning.' Then, sottovoce: 'What's up?'

'She wants you,' the barkeep gasped, his face purpling, 'to go to her place bythe White Foal at high moon. If it's convenient, of course, my lord.'

Niko let him go before his eyes popped out of his head. 'You'll put this on ourtab?'

'Just this one more time, beggar boy. Your Whoreson bugger-buddies won't lift aleg to help you; your threats are as empty as your purse.'

'Care to bet on it?'

They carried on a bit more, for the crowd's benefit, Janni and the bouncerengaged in a staring match the while. 'Call your cur off, then, and we'll forgetabout this - this once.' Niko turned, neck aprickle, and headed back towards hisseat, hoping that it wouldn't go any further. Not one of the four - bouncer, barowner. Stepsons - was entirely playing to the crowd.

When he'd reached his door-facing table, Lastel/One-Thumb called his bruiser offand Janni backed towards Niko, white-faced and trembling with eagerness: 'Let megeld one of them. Stealth. It'll do our reputations no end of good.'

'Save it for the witch-bitch.'

Janni brightened, straddling his seat, both arms on the table, digging fiercelywith his dirk into the wood: 'You've got a rendezvous?'

'Tonight, high moon. Don't drink too much.'

It wasn't the drink that skewed them, but the krrf they snorted, little pilespoured into clenched fists where thumb muscles made a well. Still, the drugwould keep them alert: it was a long time until high moon, and they had topatrol for marauders while seeming to be marauding themselves. It was almostmore than Niko could bear. He'd infiltrated a score of camps, lines and palaceson reconnaissance sorties with his deceased partner, but those were cleaner,quicker actions than this protracted infiltration of Sanctuary, bunghole of theknown world. If this evening made an end to it and he could wash and shave andstable his horses better, he'd make a sacrifice to Enlil which the god would notsoon forget.

An hour later, mounted, they set off on their tour of the Maze, Niko thinkingthat not since the affair with the archmage Askelon and Tempus's sister Cime hadhis gut rolled up into a ball with this feeling of unmitigated dread. TheNisibisi witch might know him - she might have known him all along. He'd beeninterrogated by Nisibisi before, and he would fall upon his sword rather thanendure it again now, when his dead teammate's ghost still haunted his mentalrefuge and meditation could not offer him shelter as it once had.

A boy came running up calling his name and his jug-head black tossed its rustnose high and snorted, ears back, waiting for a command to kill or maim.

'By Vashanka's sulphurous balls, what now?' Janni wondered.

They sat their mounts in the narrow street; the moon was just rising over theshantytops; people slammed their shutters tight and bolted their doors. Nikocould catch wisps of fear and loathing from behind the houses' facades; twomounted men in these streets meant trouble, no matter whose they were.

The youth trotted up, breathing hard. 'Niko! Niko! The master's so upset. ThankUs I've found you ...' The delicate eunuch's lisp identified him: a servant ofthe Alekeep's owner, one of the few men Niko thought of as a friend here.

'What's wrong, then?' He leaned down in his saddle.