In the main room, Bellard was throwing darts at a target on one wall. The permanent dice game was going on in the corner, but only two players had risen so early. There were others there, thieves like himself, pimps come to pay their tithe to the master, procurers dividing up their stash, and one fellow dressed in dusty traveling clothes that Malden did not recognize. There was something odd about the man, but in the dim light he couldn’t get a good look.

The traveler was sleeping on the divan when Malden came in, but before he could take two steps into the room, the man bolted upright and reached inside his tunic, probably for a knife. His beady eyes twinkled in the candlelight as he shot them back and forth, and his lips pulled back in a sneer as if he expected Malden to attack him.

“Be at ease,” Bellard said. The dust-covered man nodded, lay back down and immediately returned to sleep.

Malden glanced over at Bellard, who nodded and said, “That’s Kemper. An unsavory character if there ever was one.”

“He’s a thief, like me?” Malden asked.

Bellard cocked his head to one side. “Hardly. Little more than a sharper—a card cheat. A vagabond by nature, never stays in any one place for long.”

“What’s he doing here? Is he one of Cutbill’s?”

Bellard snorted in derision. “He’s no member of this guild but he pays his respects when he passes through. We wouldn’t abide his sort at all if we had a choice, as he’s wanted by the reeves of every village within a hundred miles of here. He’s called on an old tradition of sanctuary, though, so we must let him lie here until he thinks it’s safe to head out again. Of course, the tradition doesn’t preclude Cutbill from charging him rent.”

Malden shrugged. Good to know such a tradition existed, he supposed—who knew when he might need it himself? Yet his business was with Slag, the dwarf, so he made his way quickly to the workbench and brazier at the far side of the room.

“Need somewhat?” the dwarf demanded, looking up as Malden approached. He was no less ugly in daytime, though of course the sun never shone down in Cutbill’s hiding hole. “Or you just wanted a kiss?”

Malden smiled. “There’s a job I’m casing right now,” he said, “and it’s going to be tricky. I need a few things to see it out.”

“If I can’t build it, you’re not good enough to need it,” Slag replied.