Deathstalker 05 - Deathstalker Destiny

thinking. And what are you doing here? I thought you were safe at home, snuggling with Clarence?"
    "I was. They called me back because I was the only one who might know where to find you!"
    "All right, calm down. I'm sure Clarence will keep it warm for you. Now, what's so important?"
    "Jack Random's announced that he has something Very Important to say. He's going to make a speech at his place, in the Parliament building. He's invited every mover and shaker there is, and said he plans to talk about what happened on Loki, the state of the Empire today, and what he plans to do about it. Imperial News wants us there right now."
    "Why us?" said Toby. "There are any number of reporters who could cover it."
    "Random invited us personally," said Flynn. "Said we wouldn't want to miss this for anything."
    "How long have we got?" said Toby, lurching to his feet.
    "Maybe half an hour. I've got a flyer waiting downstairs, ready to go.
    Practically everyone Random invited is going to be there. Politicians, Families, everyone. This is going to be really big, Toby; I can feel it in my water."
    "Well try to hold on to your water till we get there. Jack Random is just the person I need to talk to. I've come across something big of my own, and he might
    be the only person who'll know what to do for the best. Move it, Flynn. I've a nasty feeling time is running out for all of us."

    Cardinal Brendan looked around Kit SummerIsle's hotel room, and tried not to let his lip curl too obviously. The SummerIsle had only been living there a week or two, but the place was already a dump. Though given the hotel's location, in one of the decidedly scummier parts of the city, presumably the room hadn't had too far to go. The furnishings were basic, the color scheme was frankly depressing, and the single window was sealed shut to prevent the occupant doing a moonlit flit to avoid paying the bill. There were discarded dirty plates and half-finished meals everywhere, along with a number of empty bottles and glasses. And judging by the appalling state of the carpet, there had undoubtably been a number of spills of various kinds along the way. The bed the SummerIsle was lying on looked like it hadn't been made since he moved in, and his swordbelt and holster hung openly on the headboard, ready for use at a moment's notice. The door Brendan had just closed behind him was pitted with splintered holes, from where the SummerIsle had been practicing with his throwing knives.
    There was an old dried blood stain on the carpet by the door. Perhaps someone had been foolish enough to come by and complain about the noise.
    Brendan pulled up a chair, brushed it clean with a fastidious hand, and sat down facing the SummerIsle. He arranged his robes about him just so, and smiled brightly, concentrating on appearing perfectly calm and at ease. It was always important not to let Kid Death feel he had the upper hand, just because he was a cold, intimidating son of a bitch.
    "So," he said coolly, "may I take it the extended wake for David Deathstalker is
    now over, and you're ready to do some serious work for us?"
    "I'm always ready for a little serious work," said Kit SummerIsle, ignoring the Cardinal to stare at the ceiling above him. "As long as it involves killing someone. And yes, the wake is over. It was important to give David a good send-off. He wanted so little, and was allowed none of it. Don't get too comfortable sitting there, Cardinal. You were a part of the forces that brought him down."
    The Cardinal spread his hands. "Just business, I assure you. Nothing personal."
    "He was my friend."
    The SummerIsle's eyes were dark and far away. Brendan knew most of the details of Kid Death's extended wake. A lot of it had made the evening news, as he drank and brawled his way through an endless series of bars and drinking clubs. No one had tried to stop him, or arrest him, or even ask him to pay any of his bills.
    This was Kid Death, after all, the smiling assassin. Attracted by the prospect of free booze, there was never any shortage of people willing to drink and carouse with him, and if some of them said the wrong thing and ended up spitted on the SummerIsle's blade, well, none of them were the kind of people who would be missed.
    "Is the hotel to your satisfaction?" said Brendan. "We could supply more…
    comfortable quarters, if you wish."
    "I like it fine here. The room service is first rate, since I killed a couple of the waiters for being slow. I've always