Corl watched him go. Isen wasn’t giving up on the mission, he knew that, but the last thing he needed was the man trying to earn the fee alone. Whatever the reasons behind their commission, it wasn’t going to be easy - the biggest question was how they were going to get it done and remain alive. Corl was good with a knife, really good, but he wasn’t planning to tangle with a Harlequin unless he had a company of Ghosts at his side.
Shame you’re not this good an actor, Corl thought as he watched Isen stamp away after the Harlequin, who was heading down a fork in the road, this is better than the happy drunks routine.
‘I’m sorry!’ he bawled after the other man with mock anguish. ‘Forgive me!’
Corl ran a few steps forward, enough to make Isen flinch, before turning away and beckoning Orolay closer. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the Harlequin looking around, and seeing nothing but a drunken argument between friends. Corl splashed the remains of the jar of wine over the two of them so they were as stained and stinking as Isen.
‘Know any songs?’ he asked Orolay with a chuckle, but when the young man looked blank, Corl thumped him on the shoulder and said, ‘Hah, never mind, we’ll keep to the “drunken friends making up” routine.’ He cupped his mouth and shouted, ‘Balar, wait up! Don’t walk away!’ his voice echoing down the near-empty street. When they caught up with Isen, he pointed wordlessly after the Harlequin as it disappeared through a crumbling memorial arch heading towards the Golden Tower district. The street was empty other than them, and Corl felt the essence of Kassalain stir in his blood.
‘Perfect,’ Corl said, struggling to cast off the desert robes. ‘I’ll cut through the alleys and catch it on t’other side. You two keep following, ’case it turns away.’
He didn’t wait for them to reply but set off at a sprint, slipping a longknife from its sheath as he moved alongside a building. There was an alley there that he knew well, kept in near-total darkness by the tall buildings, which was a good cut-through to the Wood Gate crossroads - as long as you were willing to risk the chance of a footpad lurking in wait. This was his chance.
He kept his knife low and ran as fast as he dared, keeping to the centre of the alley. Twenty yards in he heard a woman’s voice whisper in his ear - Kassalain, smelling murder in the air - and he dropped, tucking his head down into a roll, and slashed at the shadow moving to his right. The footpad yelped and fell back as Corl, already back on his feet, made up the ground in one step and lashed out, this time slicing open his ambusher’s hand. The blow drove the man back the way Corl had come and he saw him clearly for the first time, silhouetted against the mouth of the alley.
No second blade, flashed through Corl’s mind as he grabbed the footpad’s injured arm, yanked him sideways and kicked the man’s legs out from under him.
‘Wait!’ the man gasped as he thumped to the ground, ‘please — !’ He broke off as he felt the edge of a blade at his throat.
‘Sorry, friend,’ Corl whispered, ‘but you tryin’ to kill me’s a promise to Kassalain, and I do her collecting.’ He drew the knife across the man’s throat, cutting as deep as he could in one movement. The man spasmed as the lifeblood flowed out of him, but in a matter of moments his heart stopped and he went limp.
Just another sacrifice to my mistress, Corl though grimly. Better him than me.
The body wouldn’t be discovered tonight, so he didn’t need to waste any more time. When he reached the other end of the alley he dropped to one knee and caught his breath. In a few moments he felt the veil of silence descend over the alley again. He chanced a look round the corner - and froze.
There it was, apparently still unaware of its pursuer, its patchwork clothes and white porcelain mask stark and ghostly in the pale moonlight.
Corl drew slowly back and reached for the blowpipe sheathed on his thigh. He allowed himself a quick flush of relief as he ran his fingers down its length and discovered no damage, then removed his darts pouch and selected one.