Stalking Darkness

overhead shifted suspiciously as he peered over the edge of the platform.
    “Kaber, you here?”
    There was no answer.
    That was a relief. He hadn’t seen Kaber in a week and good riddance. The older boy had provided a certain amount of protection, but he was lazy and had lately taken to punching Skut when he didn’t bring home enough for them to eat.
    He went to the rusty brazier at the center of the loft and felt for the fire makings. His hand had just closed around the tinder bowl when suddenly he sensed movement behind him.
    Skut was a quick lad, but not quick enough this time. Before he could stand up someone had thrown a heavy cloak over his head and pinioned his arms.
    Snuffers!
Skut thought desperately.
    He squirmed wildly, struggling for his life, and felt his foot hit something with satisfying force. There was a soft grunt of pain, but strong arms caught his flailing legs. His captors lifted him off the floor, holding him so tightly he could scarcely wiggle.
    “We’re not here to harm you,” said the one holding his arms. It was a man’s voice, and soft. “I want to know about Tym.”
    “Don’t know nothin’!” Skut whimpered, bucking helplessly.
    “Oh, let’s not go down that route, shall we? Word is you’re the one who saw it happen. I only want to talk to you about it. Settle down now and I’ll make it worth your while.”
    Skut resisted a moment longer, his thin body taut as a bowstring, then gave in. Whoever had a hold of him clearly wasn’t about to let go.
    “All right then, I’ll tell you. Only let me down.”
    “Put him down.”
    Skut felt his legs released, though the one behind him maintained a strong hold around his chest and arms.
    “Are you going to behave yourself?”
    “Said I would, didn’t I?” Skut mumbled, heart hammering in his throat.
    “Sit down where you are.”
    Skut obeyed, then cried out in fear as something heavy settled on his thigh. Looking out from under the edge of the cloak, he saw that it was a rough sack.
    “Go on, open it,” the man urged, still behind him. He could seethe boots of another just in front of him, the one who hadn’t spoken yet.
    With trembling hands, Skut opened the bag and was amazed to discover a small sausage, a wedge of cheese, and half a dozen boiled eggs. The toothsome aroma was unbearably good, but he was still suspicious. The one doing all the talking had a highborn sound to him. What’d he want with Tym?
    “It’s all right,” said the second one, speaking for the first time. Another man. “Go ahead and eat. You look like you could use it.”
    The smoky garlic scent of the sausage was too much. Praying it wasn’t poisoned, Skut took a cautious nibble, then another.
    “What happened to Tym?” asked the first one.
    “Fell off a roof, that’s all,” Skut replied around a mouthful.
    “Tym
fell
?”
    Skut shrugged, peeling one of the eggs with dirty fingers. “Saw him go over. He didn’t yell or nothin’, just toppled down.”
    “No one’s found his body. Are you certain he was dead?”
    “Course!” Skut snorted. “Think I wouldn’t make sure? The bastard hadn’t paid me yet. His head was all stove in and broken. He didn’t have so much as a groat on him, neither, not even his knife.”
    His unseen interrogator seemed to consider this for a moment. “What were you doing there? What was it he was going to pay you for?”
    “Well—” Skut hesitated. “I guess I could say, since he’s dead and all. I was watching a house for him, the one he fell off of.”
    “What house?”
    “Tenement house in Sailmaker Street. Tym said I was to keep an eye out for any shady sorts, especially breakers and gaterunners. And Scavengers, too.”
    “How long did you watch?”
    “Most of a week.” The sausage was good, best he’d ever tasted. On the strength of this, he added helpfully, “I seen one, too. Pry the Beetle come by day before Tym fell.”
    “Did Tym say why he wanted you to watch for these fellows?”
    “No, and I didn’t ask. When Tym wanted something done, you done it, that’s all,” Skut told him, adding somewhat pointedly, “Would’ve paid me, too, if he hadn’t gotten his self killed.”
    The man chuckled in a friendly way. “A true man of honor, our Tym. Did you see anyone on the roof, or hear anything strange before Tym fell?”
    Skut absently cracked a louse on his sleeve as he thought hard. “No, nothin’.”
    “What was he doing up on the roof in the first place?”
    “Said he was