Baruk flicked a glance at the map table. 'Have him wait a moment, Roald.'

'Yes, Lord.' The servant stepped back and closed the door.

The alchemist walked over to the table and rolled up the ruined map. From the hallway came a loud voice followed by a murmur. Baruk slid the map on to a shelf and turned in time to see the agent enter, on his trail a scowling Roald.

Waving at Roald to leave, Baruk gazed down at the gaudily dressed man. 'Good day, Kruppe.'

Roald stepped out and softly shut the door.

'More than good, Baruk, dear friend of Kruppe. Truly wonderful! Have you partaken of the morn's fresh air?'

Baruk glanced at the window. 'Unfortunately,' he said, 'the air outside my window has become rather dusty.'

Kruppe paused. His arms returned to his sides, then he reached into a sleeve and withdrew his handkerchief. He patted his brow. 'Ah, yes, the road workers. Kruppe passed them on his way in. A rather belligerent lot, thinks Kruppe. Indeed, rude, but hardly exceptional for such menial labourers.'

Baruk gestured to a chair.

With a beatific smile Kruppe sat. 'Such a hot day,' he said, eyeing the carafe of wine on the mantelpiece.

Ignoring this, Baruk strode to the window then turned his back to it. He studied the man, wondering if he would ever catch a glimpse of what lay beyond Kruppe's cherubic demeanour. 'What have you heard?' he asked softly.

'What has Kruppe heard? What hasn't Kruppe heard!'

Baruk raised an eyebrow. 'How about brevity?'

The man shifted in the chair and mopped his forehead. 'Such heat!' Seeing Baruk's expression harden, he continued, 'Now, as for news.' He leaned forward, his voice falling to a whisper.' 'Tis muttered in corners in the bars, in dark doorways of dank streets, in the nefarious shadows of nocturnal night, in—'

'Get on with it!'

'Yes, of course. Well, Kruppe has caught wind of a rumour. An assassin's war, no less. The Guild is taking losses, 'tis said.'

Baruk turned back to the window, his eyes on the street below. 'And where do the thieves stand?'

'The rooftops are getting crowded. Throats are being slit. Profits have plummeted.'

'Where's Rallick?'

Kruppe blinked. 'He's disappeared,' he said. 'Kruppe has not seen him in days.'

'This assassin's war, it isn't internal?'

'No.'

'Has this new force been identified, then?'

'No.'