[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

held his head too carefully erect. But even so, nobody bothered him. They knew about Buchan's
reputation, too.
Buchan, with Fisher still a discreet distance behind him, made his way along the Street, passing through
the usual crowd of priests and worshippers. Riot or no riot, business went on as usual on the Street of
Gods. From time to time people called out greetings to Buchan, some clearly false and some as clearly
not, but he answered them all with the same preoccupied nod and wave of the hand. A few people
looked as though they might call out to Fisher, but she glared at them until they changed their minds.
After a while, she began to realize Buchan was heading into the high-rent section of the Street of Gods.
The churches and temples became richer and more ornate, works of art in their own right, and there was
a much better class of worshippers, most of whom seemed scandalized at Fisher's presence in their
midst. Fisher glared at them all impartially. Buchan finally stopped outside one of the more modest
buildings. It was three storeys high, with rococo carvings and elegant wrought iron. The building had an
anonymous air to it, as though it was a place for those who were just passing through, not staying. The
kind of temporary residence popular among people on the way up or on the way down. The
management didn't care which, as long as it got cash in advance.
Buchan produced a key and unlocked the front door. He stepped inside, and shut the door firmly behind
him. Fisher scowled. What was Buchan doing in a place like this? She hesitated a moment, not sure what
to do next. Hawk was the one who usually tailed people. She couldn't just barge in and start asking
questions about Buchan. He wasn't supposed to know he was being followed. She frowned. She
couldn't just hang about outside the place, either. People would notice. She made her way round the side
of the building and down a narrow alleyway she hoped would lead to a back entrance. Maybe she could
sneak in that way and find some low-level staff she could intimidate into providing some answers. Fisher
always preferred the direct approach.
She hurried down the alleyway, keeping to the shadows when she remembered, rounded the corner,
and sighed with relief as she took in the back of the building. It didn't look nearly as impressive as the
front, with uneven paintwork and a filthy back yard. Judging by the smell, the drains weren't working too
well either. There was one back door, strictly functional and clearly a servants' and tradesmen's entrance.
Fisher started toward it, only to stop dead as the door suddenly swung open. She darted behind a pile of
stacked crates, crouched down, and watched with interest as a hunched and furtive figure pushed the
door shut. He was wearing a torn and ratty-looking cloak with the hood pulled forward, but from her
angle Fisher could see the face clearly. It was Buchan. He reached up to pull the hood even further
forward, looked quickly around him, and then hurried along the alley and out onto the Street.
Fisher grinned broadly, and stayed where she was a moment to give him a good start. Buchan was
definitely up to something. Where could he be going, that he couldn't afford to be recognized? Buchan
was known and welcomed pretty much everywhere outside of High Society. She slipped out from behind
the crates, ran silently down the alley, and emerged on the Street just in time to see him walking
unhurriedly away. He was so confident in his disguise he didn't even bother to look behind him. Fisher
stayed well back anyway, just in case. She was beginning to get the hang of following people.
Buchan lead her through the luxurious high-rent district of the Street of Gods, where the magnificent
buildings struggled to outdo each other in splendor and ostentatious opulence. He passed them all by
without looking, until he came to the largest and most ornate structure yet. It was as broad as any three
churches, and an amazing four storeys high. Fisher didn't even want to think how much money the
owners must be paying for spells to protect the place from the violent spring gales. Massive bay windows
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
jutted out onto the Street, and there was gold and silver scrollwork in abundance. And enough intricately
carved stone-work to have kept entire families of stonemasons busy for generations. There was one
door, centrally placed: a huge slab of polished oak, bearing a large brass knocker. Engraved into the
stone above the door was a single ornate symbol, known and reviled throughout the Low Kingdoms.
Buchan knocked twice, and waited. Even from across the Street, Fisher could feel his impatience. The
door opened, and Buchan quickly disappeared inside. Fisher bit her lower lip thoughtfully as the door
swung shut behind him. In a way, she was almost disappointed. You didn't expect a man like the
legendary Charles Buchan to go sneaking off to the notorious Sisters of Joy.
Fisher didn't approve of the Sisters. They were dangerous. Like a rose with poisoned thorns. In her time
as a Guard, Fisher had seen men entrapped by the Sisters and betrayed by their own weaknesses. They
lost all strength and dignity, giving up on everything except the object of their obsession. They threw
away their jobs, alienated their families, and sold everything they could lay their hands on to make
donations to the Sisters. By the time the Sister concerned had sucked them dry, it must almost have
come as a relief.
Fisher folded her arms and leaned back against a church wall, staring thoughtfully at the house of the
Sisters of Joy. What the hell was Buchan doing here? It wasn't at all in character for the great romantic
she'd heard so much about. Of course, she if anyone had good reason to know that people weren't
always what their storied personas made them out to be. But still& What if there was something else
going on here? Something& deeper. Fisher pushed herself away from the wall and unfolded her arms.
Whatever Buchan was mixed up in, she wanted to know about it. There were too many secrets in this
case. She checked her sword moved freely in its scabbard, marched over to the Sisters' door, and
knocked loudly. There as a long pause. Passersby looked at Fisher in various ways. Fisher glared at
them all impartially.
The door finally opened a few inches. Fisher put her shoulder to the door and shoved it all the way [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]