Read Wings of Omen - Thieves World 06 for Free Online

but a simple shape-change trick by a fey magician made everybody in the place feel like conquering heroes. He'd counted on that being the case, but it still troubled him: fighters tended to dislike sorcerers, class to class.
    If there was one exception, one person not charmed and convinced by Randal's tricks (including the materialization of a topographical map of Sanctuary, a feast fit for the Beysibs in Kadakithis's palace, and "working capital" to the tune of five thousand Rankan soldats), it was Zip.
    Marc knew it, and Sync knew it.
    When the meeting was over. Marc delayed Zip's exit so that Sync could close in on the youth.
    Sync detoured only long enough to ask Strat, in an undertone, "Still got your soul, buddy?" and receive a curt nod in reply before he took the rebel leader by the elbow and suggested they go to the Vulgar Unicorn for a "drink and whatever."
    To Sync's relief. Zip agreed, saying: "If we're going to do this, we'd better do it right."
    "What's 'right'?" Sync asked, not understanding.
    "Right? With One-Thumb's help, soldier. Or are you afraid of Nisibisi magic?
    It's not like your little baby wizard's, up there." He indicated Randal disrespectfully.
    "Magic? I'm afraid of your kind of magic-a knife in the back in the dead of night-not theirs," Sync quipped, wondering if this gutterpud wasn't smarter than he looked: no Stepson, no 3rd Commando, and especially no Rankan regular army officer, wanted anything to do with the Nisibisi witch-caste. When Sync headed for the trapdoor with its stairs leading up into Marc's shop. Zip's hand closed hard on his arm: "Not that way, fool. You want to go to the Unicorn, we go through the tunnels. Smith Street's under curfew, even if the Maze isn't; and, wherever you are these days, two men together rouse suspicion. Come on-that is, unless you're afraid of getting those nice boots wet." Sync didn't know how Zip could find his way through that dank and slippery darkness. They slogged through sewage, then cleaner water up to their knees, in a phosphorescent green-dark counter-Maze no sane fighter would have entered without ropes, torches, chalk, and reinforcements.
    Zip seemed right at home; his voice, at least, was relaxed, though Sync couldn't see his face and was concentrating on holding onto Zip's shoulder, as he'd been instructed, trying not to listen to the part of his brain that kept telling him he'd regret putting himself at the mercy of this sewerlord: Zip could lose him down here and Sync might never find his way out.
    But the guerrilla either hadn't thought about treachery, or didn't intend any: Zip's tone was almost friendly as he asked, "Surely you don't expect this so called alliance of yours to hold?" His last word echoed: hold, old. Id, d.
    "No," Sync replied, "but before we start warring, we like to introduce ourselves. Anyway, it's good form, and we might pick up a few allies, even if we can't form a coalition townwide."
    "In two weeks," Zip said with jocular bitterness, "there'll be twice as many factions fighting, thanks to you: army, death squads, revolutionary idealists, Beysib bitches, your rangers, ersatz Stepsons, real Stepsons-what's the point?"
    "That's the point. It doesn't have to happen that way."
    "If everyone lets you control it. The chance of that is about even with me marrying Roxane and becoming the reigning Nisibisi warlock." Right about then. Sync began to wonder if Zip was really taking him to the Vulgar Unicorn. Even the mention of Roxane's name made his skin crawl. He'd had quite enough of wizard wars. That was one of the things Sanctuary had to offer as a winter billet: enough trouble to keep his men from going stale, and no uncounterable magic, just the Bey-sibs and the weakling sorcerers of Sanctuary's third-rate mageguild in a town that was a war-gamer's paradise.
    "Roxane's that good a friend of yours, is she?" Sync took a shot in the dark.
    "She's that much of a problem-you'll find out yourself, sooner or later. She's one very