Narayan, of his kind, is what I used to be of mine. The pinnacle. The acme. Ive watched him. Hes death incarnate. But he lacks the skills needed to get close to Shadowspinner. He just never learned how to turn invisible.

Blade chuckled. Bet thats a trick hed love you to teach him.

No doubt. Youve thought this through. Youve seen the difficulties. You think youve seen ways around them. So tell me how we do it. I dont think its practical but Ill listen.

There are distinct kinds of assassins. A lone crazy who doesnt care if he gets killed himself. A cabal grasping for power, ready to turn on itself when its target is eliminated. And the professional.

I saw no point. I said so.

To be successful we have to avoid the weaknesses of various kinds of assassins. Ive watched you. Your skills arent what they were but you sell yourself short. You could disguise a strike team sneaking up on Shadowspinner. If we create the illusion that our goals are impersonal he wont guard against personal attack. Right?

To a point.

To a point. Shadowspinner shouldnt know you have problems with Mogaba. So go after ways to relieve the city. While a handful work on killing Shadowspinner.

Tell me how.

Narayan should do the actual killing. You will have to disguise the attack group or make it invisible. Ram goes because he must. I go because no one else is better with a weapon. Swan goes because his presence implies the involvement of the Taglian state. Mather would be better because theres a personal involvement with the Woman, but Cordy needs to hold the reins here. Hes steady. He thinks. Willow is all passion, action without thought. Add however many specialists Narayan needs.

Two arm-holders. I said it in Stranglers cant. Blade gave me a quick glance. He was surprised I was that far into that world. We walked in silence. Then I said, Youve just talked more than Ive heard since I met you.

I talk when I have something to say.

Do you know card games? I had seen none south of the equator. Here the well-to-do played dominoes or board games, the impoverished games with dice or sticks you shook in a canister and tossed.

Some. Cordy and Mather had cards but they wore out.

Know what a wild card is?

He nodded.

I stopped, bent my head, closed my eyes, concentrated, conjured a ferocious illusion. It took form high above, a flying lizard twice the size of an eagle. It dove.

Crows have sharp eyes. They have brains, for birds, but they are not geniuses. They panicked. The panic would make their reports of the event incomprehensible.

Blade said, You did something. He watched the crows flee.

The birds are spies for one of the wild cards in our game. I told him what I had found in the grove and what I thought it meant.