It was not till then that Janni realized that Niko was talking to the firstfugitive, the one his horse had pinned, in Nisi, and the other answering back,fast and low, his eyes upon the vicious horse, quivering and covered withphosphorescent froth, who stood watchful by his master, hoping still that Nikowould let him pound the quarry into gory mud.

Straton and his partner, dragging the first unfortunate between them, came up,full of thanks and victory:'... finally got one, alive. Janni, how's yours?'

The one he held at crossbow-point was quiet, submissive, a Sanctuarite, hethought, until Straton lit a torch. Then they saw a slave's face, dark and archlike Nisibisi's were, and Straton's partner spoke for the first time: 'That'sHaught, the slave-bait.' Critias moved forward, torch in hand. 'Hello, pretty.We'd thought you'd run or died. We've lots to ask you, puppy, and nothing we'drather do tonight ...' As Crit moved in and Janni stepped back, Janni wasconscious that Niko and his prisoner had fallen silent.

Then the slave, amazingly, straightened up and raised its head, reaching withinits jerkin. Janni levered his bow, but the hand came out with a crumpled paperin it, and this he held forth, saying: 'She

freed me. She said this says so. Please ... I know nothing, but that she's freedme ...'

Crit snatched the feathered parchment from him, held it squinting in the torch'slight. 'That's right, that's what it says here.' He rubbed his jaw; then steppedforward. The slave flinched, his handsome face turned away. Crit pulled out thebolts that held him pinned, grunting; no blood followed; Straton's quarrelspenetrated clothing only; the slave crouched down, unscathed but incapacitatedby his fear. 'Come as a free man, then, and talk to us. We won't hurt you, boy.Talk and you can go.'

Niko, then, intruded, his prisoner beside him, his horse following close behind.'Let them go, Crit.'

' What? Niko, forget the game, tonight. They'll not live to tell you helped us.We've been needing this advantage too long -'

'Let them go, Crit.' Beside him his prisoner cursed or hissed or intoned aspell, but did not break to run. Niko stepped close to his task force leader,whispering: 'This one's an ex-commando, a fighter from Wizardwall come upon hardtimes. Do him a service, as I must, for services done.'

'Nisibisi? More's the reason, then, to take them and break them-'

'No. He's on the other side from warlocks; he'll do us more good free in thestreets. Won't you. Vis?'

The foreign-looking ruffian agreed, his voice thick with an accent detectableeven in his three clipped syllables.

Niko nodded. 'See, Crit? This is Vis. Vis, this is Crit. I'll be the contact forhis reports. Go on, now. You, too, freedman, go. Run!'

And the two, taking Niko at his word, dashed away before Crit could object.

The third, in Straton's grasp, writhed wildly. This was a failed hawkmask, verylikely, in Straton's estimation the prize of the three and one no word from Nikocould make the mercenary loose.

Niko agreed that he'd not try to save any ofJubal's minions, and that wasthat... almost. They had to keep their meeting brief; any could be peeking outfrom windowsill or shadowed door; but as they mounted up to ride away, Janni sawa cowled figure rising from a pool of darkness occluding the intersection. Itstood, full up, momentarily, and moonrays struck its face. Janni shuddered; itwas a face with hellish eyes, too far to be so big or so frightening, yet theirmet glance shocked him like icy water and made his limbs to shake.

'Stealth! Did you see that?'

'What?' Niko snapped, defensive over interfering in Crit's operation. 'Seewhat?'

'That - thing ...'Nothing was there, where he had seen it. 'Nothing... I'mseeing things.' Crit and Straton had reached their horses; they heard hoof beatsreceding in the night.

'Show me where, and tell me what.'

Janni swung up on his mount and led the way; when they got there they found acrumpled body, a youth with bloated tongue outstuck and rolled up eyes as if afit had taken him, dead as Abarsis in the street. 'Oh, no ..." Niko, dismounted,rolled the corpse. 'It's one of Tamzen's friends.' The silk-and-linened bodycame clearer as Janni's eyes accustomed themselves to moonlight after the glareof the torch. They heaved the corpse up upon Janni's horse who snorted to bear adead thing but forbore to refuse outright. 'Let's take it somewhere. Stealth. Wecan't carry it about all night.' Only then did Janni remember they'd failed toreport to Crit their evening's plan.

At his insistence, Niko agreed to ride by the Shambles Cross safe haven, caulkedand shuttered in iron, where Stepsons and street men and IIsig/Rankan garrisonpersonnel, engaged in chasing hawkmasks and other covert enterprises, made theirslum reports in situ.

They managed to leave the body there, but not to alert the task force leader;Crit had taken the hawkmask wherever he thought the catch would serve them best;nothing was in the room but the interrogation wheel and bags of lime to tie onunlucky noses and truncheons of sailcloth filled with gravel and iron filings tochange the most steadfast heart. They left a note, carefully coded, and hurriedback on to the street. Niko's brow was furrowed, and Janni, too, was in a hurryto see if they might find Tamzen and her friends asa living group, not one byone, cold corpses in the gutter.

The witch Roxane had house snakes, a pair brought down from Nisibis, green andsix feet long, each one. She brought them into her study and set their basketsby the hearth. Then, bowl of water by her side, she spoke the words that turnedthem into men. The facsimiles aped a pair of Stepsons; she got them clothes andsent them off. Then she took the water bowl and stirred it with her finger untila whirlpool sucked and writhed. This she spoke over, and out to sea beyond theharbour a like disturbance began to rage. She took from her table six carvenships with Beysib sails, small and filled with wax miniatures of men. These shelaunched into the basin with its whirlpool and spun and spun her finger rounduntil the flagships of the fleet foundered, then were sunk and sucked to lie, atlast, upon the bottom of the bowl. Even after she withdrew her finger the waterraged awhile. The witch looked calmly into her maelstrom and nodded once,content. The diversion would be timely; the moon, outside her window, was nearlyhigh, scant hours from its zenith.

Then it was time to take Jagat's report and send the death squads - or deadsquads, for none of those who served in them had life of their own to lead intotown.

Tamzen's heart was pounding, her mouth dry and her lungs burning. They had run along way. They were lost and all six knew it, Phryne was weeping and her sisterwas shaking and crying she couldn't run, her knees wouldn't hold her; the threeboys left were talking loud and telling all how they'd get home if they juststayed in a group - the girls had no need to fear. More krrf was shared, thoughit made things worse, not better, so that a toothless crone who tapped her stickand smacked her gums sent them flying through the streets.

No one talked about Mehta's fate; they'd seen him with the dark-clad whore, seenhim mesmerized, seen him take her hand. They'd hid until the pair walked on,then followed - the group had sworn to stay together, wicked adventure on theirminds; all were officially adults now; none could keep them from the forbiddenpleasures of men and women - to see if Mehta would really lay the whore,thinking they'd regroup right after, and find out what fun he'd had.