Deathstalker 01 - Deathstalker

out.
    "He was not my boyfriend!"
    "Personally, I never did know what you saw in him," said Cyder, counting the
    coins Hazel had given her and then making them disappear about her person. "He really wasn't your type, dear."
    Hazel started to explode all over again and then sighed resignedly. "All right, so it wasn't just the money. I was feeling down, and just in the mood to be bossed about and mistreated by someone big and dumb and domineering. You know how it is."
    "Unfortunately, yes," Cyder admitted. "Before I forget, there are a few people of my acquaintance who might be interested in helping the two of you for various reasons. I'll put the word out and see what happens. Nice to see you again, Hazel. Do let me know how it all comes out in the end."
    Hazel and Cyder embraced quickly, kissed the air near each other's cheek, and then Hazel strode out of the tavern into the mists, followed by a dubious but resigned Owen. Cyder watched them go till the mists had swallowed them up and then closed the door. She made her way back through the shifting crowd, frowning thoughtfully, and then sat down at a table tucked away in a niche at the rear of the tavern. The young man sitting there wearing a white thermal suit raised an eyebrow inquisitively. His name was Cat, a slender young man barely into his twenties, but with a lifetime's experience of surviving in the streets of Mistport. He had a pleasant, open face dominated by steady dark eyes and pockmarked cheeks, and there was nothing he wouldn't do for Cyder. He was a roof runner, a burglar specializing in the upper stories of the rich and careless, and mostly he worked on breaking and entering jobs set up by Cyder, who also acted as his fence. Cat was a deaf-mute, but he didn't let it slow him down. On the roofs, it made no difference at all. He watched Cyder's lips carefully as she spoke and waited patiently for his instructions.

    "Big things are happening in Mistport once again," said Cyder. "I can feel it in my bones. There has to be a way I can make money on this, if I just keep my wits about me. And if I can keep Hazel and her young Lord alive long enough. I don't think they realize just how desperate their situation is. Half the city's probably out looking for them by now. I'd turn them in myself if I didn't owe Hazel so much.
    "I want you to go after them, Cat. Stay out of sight, but help them where you can. Be discreet. We don't want any involvement being traced back to us. Not till we can see who's likely to come out on top. While you're playing guardian angel, I'll send a discreet little note to Tobias Moon. Put him together with Hazel and the Deathstalker, and all kinds of interesting things might happen.
    Well, don't just sit there, darling; there's work to be done and plots to be spun!"
    Cat nodded quickly, kissed her goodbye, did it again because he enjoyed it, and bounded to his feet. He pushed open the window beside him, and dived out into the cold air and swirling mists. He slammed the window shut and then clambered up the outer wall of the tavern with practiced ease. It only took a few minutes to haul himself up over the heavy iron guttering and onto the gabled roof of the Blackthorn, and he crouched there for a long moment like a ghostly gargoyle, looking out over an undulating sea of roofs, stretching away into the gray haze of the mists. Cat was back in his element again. He set off across the roofs of Thieves' Quarter in search of Hazel and Owen, secure in the knowledge that they'd never even know they were being followed.
    The Abraxus Information Center turned out to be a single floor above a bakery in a quiet but seedy part of Merchants' Quarter. The smell of baking bread was heavy on the air, and Owen's stomach rumbled loudly. He tried to think how long
    it had been since he'd sat down to a decent meal of at least four courses, and the answer depressed him. He was always hungry after boosting anyway, and he headed for the bakery door with a determined step. Hazel took him by the arm with an equally firm grip, and steered him past the bakery door and up the exterior stairs to the next floor.
    "You can eat later," she said mercilessly. "Business first." Owen sniffed and allowed himself a quiet sulk as Hazel led the way up the creaking wooden stairs.
    Whatever confidence he might have had in the Abraxus Information Center was shrinking by the moment as he took in the drab nature of the building. It looked in definite need of repair, some of it