“You reckon?” Bazie sounded interested. “Hadn’ tried that afore, hev we?”

“Ain’t’s risky. Reckon I take’s the young’un, Lyle take Deek. An ev’ry time we gets a lift, we takes it t’ carrier. Carrier brings it here. Then no matter how wrong ’t all goes, ain’t no’un caught wi’ more’n one lift on’im.” Raf sounded very sure of himself, and truth to tell, Skif agreed with him. It would be a lot more work that way for the carrier, who would have to run back and forth between wherever the Fair they were working was being held, and here, but Raf was right. No matter what happened, no matter what went wrong, no one would be caught with more loot than a single kerchief or pouch.

“Som’thin’ got ye spooked?” Bazie asked shrewdly. Skif could imagine Raf’s shrug. “Can’t ’magine white shirts lookin’ fer lifters.”

“Mebbe. Somethin’ i’ th’ air. Not like white shirts t’ be i’ this t’ th’ chancy parts’uv town. Somethin’s up. An’—” Raf paused. “Lots’uv forners pretendin’ not t’be forners lurkin’ about, i’taverns, askin’ questions, little too casual-like.”

“Na, ye stay clear’uv them, boy!” There was real alarm in Bazie’s voice. “Tha’s stuff fer th’ highborns! Ain’t no call t’get mixed up wi’ them!”

“Eh.” Raf agreed, but he still sounded worried. “Bazie, ye gotta wonder—how long afore their bizness gets down amongst us? Ye know whut they sez—rotten apple falls fastest and futhest.”

“On’y thin’ you an’ me an’ the likes’uv us got t’ ’ave t’do wi’ them is t’ get out uv way when they falls.”

And that seemed to be the end of that. Skif was asleep before Raf helped Bazie into bed.

When the Midwinter Fairs began, the first thing they had to do was try and figure out which ones they would work, because every other thief and pickpocket in Haven would be doing the same. Bazie had a shrewd way of eliminating them, based on the number of beaks assigned to each, the general level of prosperity, and the number of drunks by midafternoon. He wanted a moderate number of beaks, a slightly-better-than-middle level of prosperity, and a high level of drunks. So, not too surprisingly, he decided that they should work the Fair associated with the Brewers Guild. He also picked one very large Fair held just outside the city, where there were going to be a large number of tent taverns because it was playing host to a series of contests among performers. Not Bards; in fact, Bards were excluded. These were to be contests among ordinary musicians with no Gifts.

He chose a third Fair for no reason that Skif could tell, but Raf and Deek grinned over it so broadly that he figured he’d get the joke when he saw it.

The last chosen was the first Fair of the seven days of Midwinter Festival; Lyle went out with Deek early in the afternoon, with Skif and Raf following about a candlemark later.