“Should be easy enough,” she pointed out. “I suppose you’d have to make up some cock-and-bull tale about why you wanted it done. And you’d have to work the whole setup just for the other lad to do the snatch-and-run so he’ll get away clean, maybe even interfere with some of the constables to keep them from nobbling him. But between what you paid the fellow and what he’d get off Devlin, I’d have to think that it’d more than pay him to keep his mouth shut about it.”

His mind was already at work on the problem. He could sacrifice one of the problematic personae if he needed to. If one of them was never seen again after getting the papers, it wouldn’t matter if the thief in question couldn’t keep his mouth shut, because there’d be no one to betray, it was definitely an idea, and a good one. Not perfect, but—

—but it opened up a whole new set of ideas. It hadn’t occurred to him to make use of the criminal element. There were other possibilities here. If, for instance, he could discover which room in the inn Norris used, perhaps he could send someone to search it…

“You do know that someone might recognize me at this inn, don’t you?” she continued conversationally. “Not as a Herald, of course—I’m certain nobody actually knows that’s where I went when I quit my job. My Choosing was pretty quiet, actually, and since I was right in Haven, I persuaded Aleirian to let me finish out my work for the day, hand in my notice, and slip out without a fuss.”

“Modest of you—” he began.

She laughed. “Hardly. I didn’t want anyone who wanted a favor showing up at the Collegium looking for me. Anybody who knew me would recognize me as Myste Willenger, the accountant and clerk, not Herald Myste. Except for the Wars, I haven’t set foot outside the Collegium Complex since I was Chosen.”

“Really? Well, that would not harm anything.” He pulled the hood closer around his neck; this damp cold seemed to be more penetrating than the dry cold of Festival Week. “In fact, it might be a good thing.”

“Reestablish myself in my old haunts?” She glanced at him sideways. “Well, if you want me to do that, I can. I’ll think up something to tell anyone who asks where I’ve been—”

He had to snort at that. “Where else, but for the Army working?” he asked. “At least until the Wars ended.”

She stared at him a moment, and stumbled over a rut, then smiled. “You’ve got a good head for this,” she said. “You’re right, of course. All those soldiers needed feeding, supplying, paying—that needs clerks.”