Completed Getaway (Inoadar)

[Amolina]

~ Amolina Moletta ~ ~ 20th day of Fall 513 AV ~ The ferry from Lakeshore had arrived to The Docks and Amolina was back in the city after a day of “volunteer work” at KRI. It had been a tough day. Gauis Alzelin had been irritated when he did the medical tests to follow up her odd unknown “disease”. He had not liked that she was trying to make him speak about his research. And the rest of the day she had been assisting Valerius Nitrozian with a few not so nice kelvics. She was tired and a wee bit dirty, and the plain makeup (in her opinion) she wore at work had started to fade away. Her hairstyle had been put up in serious and immaculate way when she left in the morning, but during the day with the kelvics it had started to look somewhat untidy. Stepping ashore, she headed towards the nearest Ravontala stop. She was aiming to go home, wash or even have a bath to get rid of the faint smell of KRI animal stables. She planned to spend a quiet evening in her NHC apartment, then go bed and sleep. But unknown people, chance, fate, or perhaps even Rhysol himself had other plans for this evening. It was nearly sunset. The weather was peaceful and pleasant, like it always was – the storm last year, 512 AV, had been one of the few times bad weather had happened in Amolina’s whole life. The walkway she followed ended in an open place between the buildings and she started to walk across it, lost in her thoughts. On the other side if this small “plaza” there was a narrow shortcut between the houses, to the nearest ravonsala stop. And over there …ah, that house, well, well, there seemed to be more customers than usual strolling towards that special house, so perhaps they had some kind of exotic event ongoing there … Nothing else seemed to be going on in Ravok this calm evening.

[Inoadar]

It was best not to notice. But if you had a gift for such things than you'd best have a skill for not betraying it. When activities best unseen were occurring, there were sure to be watchers looking for strolling citizen doing sudden double takes, or worse yet, pointing. Anything that might give away the back alley dealings were to be "dealt with" immediately.

Inoadar did not care to be dealt with, so he curbed his reaction and kept his gaze straight ahead. It was only a brothel anyway. But this was the very fact that had piqued his interest. If his surveillance was to be trusted, there were easily double the usual number of lookouts. Why should there be? Prostitution was not only legal, it was an integral part of the Ravokian economy. There was no need to stand guard. 'Were they expecting trouble? Was there a high-ranking figure inside being "serviced"? Vulnerable to an assassination? A meeting of Rising Dawn refugees, perhaps?'

Inoadar resisted even so much as a betraying shrug. He knew that if HE were watching, even THAT would be evidence of potentially dangerous observations. His OWN observations were sharp enough to collect signs of NEW trouble though. A change in the ambiance of the public voice, taking on a concerned note. A swell of movement in one direction by the bulk of citizens to his left. The fact that they were ALL looking to their own left. And most tell-tale of all, the sound of synchronized, marching boots.

The Ebonstryfe! Inoadar had a hunch that those watchers would no longer be caring about him and turned to look back. Even from his distance he could see the swirling of drapes in the windows, caused by rushing bodies and slamming doors. Every sound, from within and without took on an urgency as the soldiers poured in, swords and crossbows held at the ready. Soon the sounds of urgency changed to panic and demands, shouts and screams, pounding, crashing and begging as bloodied and bruised bodies were walked or dragged out.

Now was the time to gauge attitudes among the crowd. Inoadar looked away from the spectacle to see expressions on faces. Mostly he was looking to see anger and frustration, the signs of possible subversive personalities. The citizenry of Ravok would support the Ebonstryfe. Even one that had an "appointment" arranged with one of the girls would not be upset over the inconvenience. He would be thanking Rhysol for whatever had caused him to have not been found inside waiting.

Those relative innocents would be sorted out in time, but not before their questioners were satisfied that they truly were innocent. And that would be no picnic. They would be released, with their belongings probably returned in full. There would be no apology. They would be expected to be thankful for the suffering they had endured, given that it marked the benevolent zeal with which the Ebonstryfe pursued their task of safeguarding the city from traitors.

His musing was suddenly forgotten. There was no brothel, there was no raid, there were no victims or soldiers. There was only...Amolina Moletta! Every gender and honor related insult and label flashed through his mind as he swung on a peripheral path of approach. She stood among the gawking crowd, near an alley abutting one side of the brothel, her gaze occasionally flashing towards the location of a nearby Ravosala platform. Inoadar worked his way behind her.

Some tactics would always be effective. He came up behind her, easing to her left as he tapped her right shoulder once. She turned her head absently in that direction, as he ducked the rest of the way to her left. He came around to stop directly in front of her as she turned back to find him only inches away, his eyes cold and staring with the promise of violence.

A sneer of satisfaction spread across his face as her eyes widened upon recognition. "Hello, Amolina. How nice to see you again."

[Amolina]

Amolina had been caught up in the general worried atmosphere that had descended over the crowd in when people started to realize they were witnessing an Ebonstryfe operation, with what that entailed for every innocent citizen unlucky enough to be around. The peaceful calm she had felt was gone. A few things Valerius Nitrozian had said to her passed by in her memory: Maybe the Ebonstryfe’s prison is not the right place for you after all. They would break you. I think I prefer you alive and sane. This memory did nothing to make her feel safer…the Nitrozian had sounded like break meant crush thoroughly and forever, leaving her as impossible to mend as a shattered glass. And it was actually not unheard of – now and then there were rumours about innocent people released from the Ebonstryfe with all physical belongings given back to them, but their bodies were broken and their minds were lost. This was perhaps just rumours…or perhaps not. Break. Amolina wasn’t keen on finding out what that word meant, by making the experience. So when on top of this, Nolan Parnell suddenly turned up right in front of her only inches away, Amolina was already nervous and his appearance shocked her. She was stunned and just stood there staring while Parnell greeted her. Said in another tone, by someone else, the words would have been totally normal and polite. Uttered by Parnell and combined with the expression on his face and in his green eyes, it was ominous, just ominous. Green eyes. Did the man have green eyes ? Amonlina had never before been close enough to observe the poison makers eye colour. Well perhaps that time in the diner when he had been drunk and intrusive, but that time his gaze had not been on her face and she had not been interested in his eyes, or anything else, bar making him pass out so she could steal his keys and rob his shop. But now, when he was only inches away she saw...staring into his eyes like a paralyzed rat meeting the mesmerizing gaze of a snake, she could see that they were indeed green. In summer when Amolina had followed a whim and had her fortune told. She had received lots of enigmatic information and unfathomable advice from the pleasant fortune teller with the pale face. Among other things the girl had persistently warned her for dark haired men, in particular if they had green eyes. It had not seemed to make much sense at the time, but now …it dawned on her. It might have been Parnell the fortune teller had warned her for. She didn’t find it nice to meet Parnell – she had feared it all the time after betraying the poison maker to Clyde Sullins in early summer. Words etched in her mind came alive, lots of words, as Parnell wasn’t one to run out of words, threats and insults. She quenced a squeak as she took a step back. With the Ebonstryfe operation going on she didn’t dare to draw attention to herself, not by speaking too loudly, not by moving quickly. Despite how slow her body seemed to be, her mind had speeded up in an unnatural way, her awareness sharpened, her heartbeat fast. She wanted to glance towards the ravonsala stop to see if there was a boat incoming, but she didn’t dare to look away from Parnell, so her gaze remained locked with his. He had taken the liberty to use her first name like they knew each other well. Normally she would have answered by stiffly calling him Mr Parnell. But... would it not sound weird if someone overheard it? It was best to stick to the style he had started in. Native ravokian caution made her produce a faked faint smile and in a low and wary voice she said: “Nolan! What a surprise!”

[Inoadar]

He had her! She recovered fairly well from the obvious shock, but the nature of her recovery made it plain that she was aware that the surrounding situation favored him. He had the strength to force her to walk with him, and if she fought him, she drew attention to herself. And he doubted she would decide to give herself up to Ebonstryfe questioning just to drag him down with her. The other few times he'd had her in his reach, some detail arose that postponed the suffering she'd earned by robbing his shop.

This had only been compounded by her complete fiasco with the mage, Clyde Sullins. An annoying reminder pricked his mind that HE had been the one that sent her, completely clueless and inexperienced, into that lion's den. He shook it off only to detect the fleeting echo of her words that Rhysol had SENT her after his ledger, which was the reason she'd robbed his shop. Vengeance insisted he ignore these excuses. He hated her. He wanted to hate her, and did NOT want to contemplate reasons why he should not.

His smile was ice and his grip was steel as he steered Amoletta toward a nearby alley, one none to far from where the Ebonstryfe were beginning to form a cordon to keep the crowd from leaving. Inoadar was oblivious to this development as he sneered. "Yes...I'm just full of surprises, am I not? Like the antidote I almost completed before you saw fit to bring Mr. Sullins to my shop to ruin everything! Just one more thing I have to thank you for...And him."

He spun her to face him as he eyed her up and down. "And you seem unexpectedly recovered from your...illness..." His eyes narrowed, "You know, the one for which our arrangement was made? You never really needed it, did you? Just a game, wasn't it? Another one of your petching games! Stealing from me wasn't enough! Oh NO, you had to manipulate me into getting on that crazy mage bastard's bad side! Couldn't stand the fact that I figured out who stole my ledger, could you! Figured you could get him to kill me for you, eh? Well it didn't quite work, did it!"

Now his eyes blazed, as she was cringed before him, which only fueled his vindictive tirade. It didn't occur to him that his voice was getting louder. She was saying something, but he wasn't listening. Her eyes were looking around and past him, apprehensive and desperate. He assumed she was frantic with the certainty that he was building up to murder and was looking to escape.

He gripped her harder, pulling her face an inch from his own. "Even after you stole my ledger, I was willing to trust you. If you would have done just one thing, JUST ONE, that wasn't a slap in my face, I might have shrugged it off, but you...you just...I could have...I...God damn it! WHAT?" He whirled in fury, facing into the crowd to see a number of faces pointed his way.

Something had cracked his focus. His name...being spoken...no, called. Called desperately, in fact. It wasn't until he'd turned that he realized it had not been "Nolan Parnell" that was being called, but "Inoadar." Ruin smote him. He saw someone wave, and the eye contact seemed to register on several people at once.

His former assistant, Burke Trovias, a former slave, arrested as a traitor. He was waving at him now, in slave chains again, calling to his former master, "Inoadar". The name the Ebonstryfe had put a thousand miza bounty on. The name Inoadar had faked the death of, in an attempt to rid himself of it. The name someone high up had realized was capable of being useful under the name "Nolan Parnell". The name that would come back to haunt him if the rank-and-file soldiery and citizenry of Ravok were to connect it to the man "Nolan Parnell", poisoner and owner of the shop, Ino Vations.

Inoadar tried to turn nonchalantly back toward Amoletta, crouching, the color draining from his face. There were now also a half dozen Ebonstryfe soldiers gazing his way. Looks passed between them as several of them squinted. No doubt they knew of the old bounty, supposedly dispatched and collected. The mizas now dancing before their eyes, they started to work their way in his direction through the crowd. If they found him, it wasn't that he'd have some explaining to do. it was the fact that his usefulness as "Nolan Parnell" would be ended. And if IT was ended, so was he.

[Amolina]

Nolan Parnell was a living, walking disaster. The poison in his shop had nearly killed her, being sent to Clyde Sullins had nearly gotten her killed too, and now the man was shouting in the open street and making the Ebonstryfe come for them. It was now the third time her life was at stake after a brief meeting with the poison maker. She had not dared to fight him when he gripped her and started ranting at her like he was completely out of his mind and didn’t realize the danger they were in. She had tried to ask him to lower his voice, she had tried to tell him he was drawing dangerously much attention and Ebonstryfe soldiers would come for them, she had tried… But Parnell had not listened. When he spoke about the incident with Sullins, he seemed to become so furious that he went incoherent and seemed to not be able to make complete sentences any more. He blamed her for all and everything that had not went his way. Amolina felt like a ragdoll being held in a far too hard iron grip and about to be shaken, slammed into walls, beaten up. It had been impossible to make him stop and impossible to make him listen. But now he was listening, albeit not to her. Behind him she could see one of the people the Ebonstryfe had gathered, likely to question them, a man in chains, a slave…and this man was waving and calling out what seemed to be a name. And that name wasn't Parnell, but Parnell had reacted ... Parnells reaction was perhaps not visible to people in the crowd, but Ebonstryfe soldiers were now making their way towards them. To Amolina, still held far too close to the poison maker in that painful grip of steel, it was obvious that something had suddenly pushed him out of his blind rage. When he turned back to her, seemingly nonchalantly, there was something new in his eyes and in his face. He had paled. And he was silent. Something really bad was about to happen … and she would be associated with it. “You silly bastard” she hissed. Her voice was only a whisper. She still didn’t dare to fight him openly, in particular not now, with the Ebonstryfe soldiers heading towards them. “Now, look what you have done!” She drew her breath and tried to think. If the Ebonstryfe seized Parnell, they would seize her too. Acting was how she used to save herself in troublesome situations, and acting was the first thing that came to her mind now. Alas, this time it wouldn’t be enough to save herself. She would need to save Parnell too, if she wanted a chance to escape. She could perhaps make the Ebonstryfe soldiers believe she had just been assaulted by a violent random madman. But once they interrogated the poison maker, he would tell them everything. Then they would realize that Amolina had lied to them and they would come for her. So she would need to include Parnell in her attempt to escape by acting – if it was possible. “Act if you want to live” she whispered urgently. “Tell them it’s an argument because you suspect I have been meeting somebody else and now you found me HERE, of all bad places, and you’re …jealous and enraged and now we’re going to take next ravonsala straight home to continue the argument in private. Make them believe it and let us go.” Necessity knows no law, sometimes. She could only hope Parnell had the presence of mind to play along, no matter she didn’t have time to explain more. “Let go of me you stupid, worthless good-for-nothing !“ she yelled. “It’s your own fault !”

[Inoadar]

"Act if you want to live." She hissed at him, laying out a scenario like an angry director. She then immersed herself in it, her face flushing in feigned rage, “Let go of me you stupid, worthless good-for-nothing! It’s your own fault!”

Inoadar suspected her rage was only partly fake. There was absolute conviction ringing in her last remark, and he could not deny the truth of it. This WAS all his fault. He had seen what was going on. He knew how the Ebonstryfe collected all witnesses in such events, treating them all as potential collaborators until their innocence could be clearly established. But he'd launched into his tirade anyway. 'Idiot!' he chided himself.

He wanted to snap back at her, to tell her that it would make no difference. He knew they would be collected along with the rest, regardless of their story. But, in a flash, it occurred to him how quickly he himself always sought to make himself scarce whenever couples argued. 'Why should these soldiers be any different?' Well, the die was cast, he'd presented himself as an angry loudmouth. Perhaps these soldiers would already consider that a strike against him being the skillful antagonist Inoadar had been. They may well assume that a man worthy of a thousand miza bounty would be smarter than this.

But he'd crouched to avoid detection, and they had seen him do it. 'How to account for it...' His mind raced as he caught sight of Amolina's shoes. Plain work shoes, somewhat at odds with her elaborate hair, though it also was fairly disheveled now. Inspiration struck. 'I can do this!' he insisted to himself. 'I am Nolan Parnell, and I have just found proof that my wife is a prostitute.'

He rose to his feet, his back to the approaching soldiers, now only a few feet away. "AND WHERE ARE THE NEW SHOES I BOUGHT YOU, YOU FREELOADING SLUT! I PAID FORTY MIZAS FOR THEM! DIDN'T WANT HIM TO SEE THEM?...WELL?...AND LOOK AT YOUR HAIR! ALL MUSSED UP FROM THE SWEATY WORK YOUR DOING IN THERE ISN'T IT...ISN'T IT?!" He swung his hand toward the brothel in time with his accusation, knowing it was now right in the face of some soldier.

An iron grip latched onto his forearm as someone spun him around. 'Time to go for broke.' he decided. He'd let inner pressure redden his face to what he hoped was a convincing level as he turned with the soldier's pull. "LET GO OF ME, DAMN YOU!" he roared as he tore his arm free of the grip, ripping the fabric of his coat.

His near beserk expression locked eyes with the soldier, whose look also chalked up several levels of anger. Now it was time to reverse himself. He widened his eyes in horror and regret, throwing one palm to his forehead. "Rhysol's Mercy! I'm so sorry...I...I didn't realize..." He let a look of renewed fury flash across his face and spun back towards Amolina. "NOW look what you've done!" he shouted as hands locked on his shoulders. "When I get you home..." he waved a fist, one temporarily restrained by several arms.

[Amolina]

The soldiers had focused on Parnell, as he was shouting and being violent, just like he had been all the time. Amolina watched Parnell’s performance with growing anxiety. He had understood what she had said, and he did act, but…she felt worried when she saw this show. He had hit an Ebonstryfe soldier, and now he was acting like he didn’t respect them, turning to her instead. Convincing enough if all he wanted was to pass himself off as a reasonably normal but extremely angry man. But she doubted this would be enough to make the soldiers let him go. “I would never have looked twice at you if I had known what a foolish, foolish man you are. Shoes seems to be the only thing you can think of ! You give me idiotic shoes that are totally impossible to walk in! You start an argument on open street because I’m not wearing them ! You even pick a fight with the Ebonstryfe about your silly, impossible ideas about shoes! I knew you are stupid, but I had no idea you are THIS stupid ! ” She drew her breath and spit out: “You are silly as a kelvic! A billy-goat kelvic, that’s what you are like!“ Despite the situation and the trouble people were in, laughs could be heard from the crowd. Amolina saw the mouth of one of the Ebonstryfe soldiers twitch slightly, like he had to put in effort to keep his expression under control. Amolina’s voice was as mean as a voice comes, when a really nasty argument is on. She ranted on, regardless of the audicence, and had a great deal to say about a long list of utterly foolish actions. In particular when it came to shoes. There seemed to be no stupid thing in the whole world that the man hadn’t done, and she was full of righteous rage and blamed him endlessly. She put all her acting skill into it, and while she ranted on, unstoppable, it was like higher inspiration struck her and she turned to Rhysol himself. “Oh Rhysol, Rhysol, help me !” she called out, her voice going husky and raw with emotion. She pretended to wipe tears away from her eyes, though there were no tears, and managed to make the already dishevelled hair drop like a curtain over her face. Hidden behind the hair she made a few sobs. “Oh, Rhysol, I tried to carry out what I believe you wished of me. But I have failed. He’s so silly that he doesn’t even seem to understand that he will never again get a chance to follow me home! Oh, what a fool I was, to believe I would be able to keep him from sealing his own fate by pure stupidity!”

[Inoadar]

If Amolina was trying to inspire a true display of emotion from him, she was doing a damned good job of it. But where she seemed to be going for grief or sympathy, all she was accomplishing was dread and betrayal. This was too close to the truth for Inoadar's liking. This was virtually the exact claim she'd made when she'd come back to InoVations for that antidote. The bit about 'trying to carry out what Rhysol wished of her' was the very excuse she'd used to turn up at his shop.

The bit about 'losing his chance to follow her home' confused him completely, but the last bit about 'not being able to keep him from sealing his fate' sounded like she was actually TRYING to turn him in! His jaw dropped and he swallowed hard, his anxiety completely genuine.

"What the Petch are you talking about?" he stammered, "The only pure stupidity here is yours! You think our great Lord gives two lumps of shyke about what a preachin' whore wants. What in Dira's Dungeons do you think he needs to help you with. You were cheating on me, and now I've caught you! Trying to get me in trouble with our noble city guard is a petching low blow, bitch! They don't have time for this shyke! They've obviously got important business to tend to! More important that the two of US!"

Inoadar spun to make an all-inclusive gesture at the entire scene, and was fortunate that his spinning and tripping covered for the look of shock as he saw that Burke, his old assistant, had been pulled forward to confirm the identity of the man he'd pointed out. They locked eyes and Inoadar knew his life hung on this man's next few words.

"So are you the bastard my wife has been cheating with?" Inoadar snarled at him, seeking anything to disrupt the flow of fate. "Why, I ought to buy you out of those chains and beat you with them!" He tried to sneak a wink in with his remark, desperate to convey the message to his ex-assistant that he would buy his slave contract if he would stall this arrest.

Burke studied him and time stood still. Inoadar spent every last nerve trying to maintain his facade of indignation at this supposed wife-stealer. Burke scowled finally, "No...this isn't him...The Inoadar I knew would never saddle himself with a bitch like that."

There was a collective sigh from the crowd, though it included a few chuckles, as well as a few snaps from some of the women. "I don't know sir." a pesky lower ranking soldier persisted, "The slave seemed damn sure that this was the man, Inoadar."

Almost in time with Inoadar's inner begging, the ranking officer rolled his eyes and turned to his subordinate, "Inoadar is dead! I was there! He dove into the canal and broke his neck when he hit face first on a barely submerged dead head. This guy DOES look a little like him, but it's not Inoadar. Now take that slave back to the line."

Inoadar feigned a horrified realization. "Is THAT what he said?...'Inoadar"...someone's name?...Oh shadow's Grace, I thought he'd said 'I know a whore'." Inoadar faked some genuine embarrassed squirming. "And then I saw him looking over here...at my wife...oh gods."

He turned to Amolina, all grovelling and begging, "I'm so sorry honey...you can understand can't you...he said that...I mean I THOUGHT he said that...and he was looking over here...looking at you...you can see how I'd...I'm so sorry...I was wroing, but you...you can see...can't you?...I thought...uh..."

As Inoadar gestured wretchedly at the various participants in this drama, he thought it would be a nice final touch for Amolina to slap him. Then, if they were lucky, the soldiers would just shake their heads as he and Amolina, respectively, grovelled and bitched their way out of there.

[Amolina]

The soldiers seemed to be about to release Parnell now when the slave had said he wasn’t someone else, named “Inoadar”. And the officer had added that this “Inoadar” was actually dead and he had been there when it happened. Parnell was playing out the whole husband-of-a-shrew thing, calling her honey and a whore in the same sentence and ending the tirade with an unintelligible “uh”. “Don’t even try to come back after this” she said to him. “ She stepped closer and slapped his face, hard and with unashamed realism. “I don’t care, not anymore. Good thing we don’t have any children. You wouldn’t be much of a father. “ With this she turned to the officer, flapped her eyelashes at him in a quite seductive way and told him they could do a good deed and rid her of a man she ought to never have looked twice at. “He was different before we married. I hope I will meet someone better – afterwards. ” Looking seriously annoyed at her cheap attempt to flirt with him and draw him personally into the argument, the Ebonstryfe officer gave her cold eyes. In a disgusted tone, he said they could both just go home and take care of their problems in private. He also informed her he found it blatantly disloyal to try to make the Ebonstryfe seize her husband because they had an argument. He was happy to not be the unfortunate one to be married to her. The Ebonstryfe had no more questions for them - right now. He told the soldiers to let go of Parnell, they had far more important things to do than listen to domestic quarrels. Amolina quickly said thanks, turned around and immediately headed for the nearby ravonsala stop, like she was trying to leave Parnell behind. There was a boat now and all she wanted was to jump into it and leave at once. Unfortunately in the company of Parnell, who was walking beside her, speaking on, while she for one didn’t answer and seemed to be refusing to listen to him. She was actually not paying much attention to what he said. She assumed Parnell was only babbling in order to carry out his sudden improvised role. She bet he too just wanted to take the boat and leave, before it dawned on the stryfers that they had forgotten to check the identity papers of the quarrelling couple. She had tried to give the impression he was just a boyfriend – an ex-boyfriend - that could be dumped and denied to “follow her home”. That way it wouldn’t have been anything unusual with their different family names in case the soldiers had checked their papers. But Parnell had passed them off as a married couple, obvioulsy without thinking of the consequences. When she heard him say it she could have strangled him on the spot. It had become essential to avoid an identity check now. After this her only option had been to play along and hope they would be allowed to leave before somebody asked for their names and papers. And it seemed like this was perhaps going to succeed…they reached the ravonsala stop, jumped into the boat and told the ravonsalaman to head to the next stop, not far from the Nitrozian Plaza. Perhaps she would be able to blen into the crowd there and make her way home ...

[Inoadar]

It wasn't until Amolina actually turned and hissed "What if they had asked to see our citizenship papers and seen that we AREN'T MARRIED?" that Inoadar realized how badly he'd misunderstood her remarks about "not following her home" and "sealing his fate". He'd thought she was acting as if she'd assumed he was already under arrest, and hadn't appreciated what he thought was her trying to give them ideas.

Fortunately, it served the charade for him to try clarifying this. It hurt nothing for him to continue whining after her as she reached the ravosala platform. In truth, he knew he had come near to ruining the very act that had saved them. At the same time, he thought his injection of the notion that they were married may have made the soldiers all the more eager to wash their hands of it.

At any rate, Amolina had performed admirably. She had really lived the part. His face still hurt. In fact, it struck him that she was displaying none of the terror that usually went along with his presence. He had sworn to kill her, and they were now leaving the sort of public place he would expect her to feel safe from him.

She had to know this, yet she showed no sign of it. It dawned on him suddenly that she had just bailed him out of a mess of his own making. A mess created by his hostility toward her. Yet she had taken control, and done so fearlessly and effectively. He found himself feeling petty to maintain this grudge. Yes, she had stolen his ledger. But Marcus had as much as admitted that the Black Sun had ordered it done. Yes, she had blown her assignment with Clyde Sullins and nearly gotten them both incinerated, along with his shop. But HE had forced her into that.

It occurred to him that part of what made him want to harass and threaten her was the immediate fear that sprang into her eyes when she saw him. Now that she was displaying strength instead of fear, he found himself instinctively seeing her as a partner, not a victim.

He found himself also thinking of his former assistant, returned to slavery. He owed TWO people for his escape from the soldiers. Burke might have gained some favor by turning him in, but had restrained himself at the moment of truth. He owed the man now. He had made the subtle suggestion that he'd buy him out of slavery and the man had bought into the scenario. He HAD to get him out. He needed to start working on that.

He looked back on an impulse to see if he could spot Burke. He turned back quickly, dropping anxiously. Amolina had already given the boatman instructions, but Inoadar now tossed a 10-miza coin on the bench seat and told him to speed it up. He swung to face Amolina. "The Stryfe are coming back. Probably for our papers. We need to keep arguing so there's a reason for us not to hear them!" He pointed a finger at the boatman, "and YOU don't hear them either!"