Read Wings of Omen - Thieves World 06 for Free Online Page A

big reason why I can't hook up with you. Another is, I can't speak for everybody-hardly for anybody at all."
    "Just the Nisibisi-trained and funded death squads?"
    "That's right. Take a left turn here; we're going to start climbing stone steps; they're slippery; there's fifteen, then a landing, then ten more." They climbed in the dark. Sync continued his interrogation: "I've heard that you control most of the territory in Downwind-that you've held it against the Beysibs and that at this point they've given up trying to take it back."
    "Most of the territory? Three blocks? That's what I've got, all I can hold. We don't have drool in the way of arms, or fighters, or anything much but a little Nisibisi support. I'll show my territory to you some time. You won't be impressed."
    "I'll be the judge of that." Sync had lost count of the stairs; he tried to mount one and his foot thumped down hard through thin air: they'd made the first landing. Three strides, and they were climbing again. With a sinking feeling that had nothing to do with being underground and at the mercy of a boy guerrilla, Sync asked: "I'd like to meet her, sometime soon-this Roxane. Can you arrange it?"
    "Life too dull for you? Just can't wait to lose your soul? Heard that undeads have more fun?"
    "I'm serious."
    "I wish I wasn't. If you promise me you won't consider it an act of war on my part, I'll hook you up tonight."
    "Thanks, I'd appreciate it."
    "We'll see about that-maybe you won't be able to appreciate anything, afterward. Any next of kin you want me to notify? At least tell that baby-mage of yours to avenge you?"
    Sync chuckled, but he couldn't make it sound convincing. "Randal's going to be introducing himself to Sanctuary, this evening. If Roxane's really here, he won't need to be notified. They've met before."
    "Here we are. I'm just going to slide this bolt and then we'll climb up, one at a time-I'll go first. And she's really here. Ask One-Thumb." There was the sound of wood grating, then a square of blinding light, then a dark silhouette in its midst as Zip levered himself up. Following, Sync reflected that though this wasn't as harmless an alibi as he'd expected, at least he'd be in public, drinking in the Unicorn when as many of the hundred ruling Beysib women as had accepted an invitation to the opening of
    "Randal's Pleasure Palace" uptown became wax statues in the exhibit of "Beysib Culture" which was the prime attraction of the mage's Beysib trap.
    * * *
    This Sync didn't understand what he was getting himself into. Zip knew. The trick was to let the crazy bastard have his way without Zip taking the blame for what became of the 3rd's commanding officer.
    Zip hated officers, armies, authoritarian types. He also hated Roxane, when he dared. But not too often-she was more dangerous than three 3rd Commando cadres and she had him by the jewels.
    She'd appreciate Sync, all right, if Zip could deliver him. He didn't know why he felt reluctant to do it. Sync was just another murderer, and the worst kind: professional, efficient, charismatic in a Rankan sort of way. The less Rankans in Zip's world, the better. But still, if the Rankans got together and decimated the Beysibs, there'd be less Rankans for the Nisibisi sympathizers to deal with later. Right now, what was good for the Nisibisi-sponsored Revolution was good for Zip.
    So he took some chances, letting Sync see how Zip's sort got around in town without being noticed, even showing him where you left your sewer-reeking clothes in One-Thumb's wine cellar and where you got fresh ones before you slunk up the back way and into the Unicorn crowd through the outhouse entrance as if you'd always been there.
    One-Thumb wasn't behind the bar; he was probably upstairs with Roxane, or out at the estate-in which case, there'd be nothing Zip could do tonight: you didn't take people to One-Thumb's uninvited... not unless you wanted to end up dog meat.
    The waitress was one of Zip's people; two hand signals he