“I tend to avoid confrontation all together. My marks either don’t see me or they’re too busy seeing enough of me not to notice when I lift something,” she said suggestively.

The warrior frowned. Posing the question to both of them, he asked, “How do you expect to overcome your enemies without any Skills?”

Attica lost her smirk for the briefest moment as she replied, “We’re street thieves. It’s not like we’re going up against the Guard. If anyone serious tries to do business in our territory, Martius sends in the enforcers.”

Rezkin was familiar with the thieves’ guild enforcers. They were usually ex-mercenaries, soldiers, or house guards who were lucky enough to be dishonorably discharged rather than killed, and lifelong criminals and smugglers with some martial training.

“Martius’ll be sendin’ his enforcers after you, I reckon’,” Cratz commented.

“It would be a waste of personnel,” Rezkin replied. “Very well. Take me to Martius.”

“You want to go to the guildmaster? He’ll gut you!” the big man exclaimed.

Rezkin did not like the idea of entering into a confrontation with a master of a thieves’ guild without reconnaissance. This, however, was the most opportune time since he had been blocking the doorway and no one could have gotten out to warn the guildmaster that someone was causing trouble in his territory. When he first became involved, Rezkin had simply wanted to correct a problem with the small-men’s training. After seeing the miserable state of affairs at the den, though, he found himself in deeper than expected. Logically, he knew, it was probably good that the thieves’ guild was not more successful, but his years of training and ingrained desire for efficiency drove him to seek more for the young small-men in whom he had seen untapped potential.

“A’right, I’ll take you to him,” said Cratz.

“No,” Rezkin replied. “I need you to stay here and make sure no one leaves this room until I say otherwise. Attica will take me.”

“I’ve never actually met the guildmaster,” said the woman, her voice wavering slightly.

“But you know where to find him.” Rezkin stated rather than questioned.

The woman nodded and said, “Well, yes, but—”

“Lead the way,” Rezkin interrupted.

Chapter 5

Rezkin followed the frilly, shear lavender cloak through the streets and down dark alleys. The cloak would have looked fine on any number of ladies but was at complete odds with the appearance of the female thief. It was her hasty attempt to appear as anything other than what she was to the normal folk and city guards. Attica had wrapped the diaphanous material tightly around her to cover her unladylike appearance, and walked with a sway in her hips. Although it was still light, the sun had sunk below the horizon, and one could not immediately see that she was not wearing full skirts beneath the cloak.