The Ambassador's Mission: Book One of th - By Trudi Canavan Page 0,68
of jewellery – though from the look of it most was badly made or fake.
Another set of shelves held books of all sizes. Some were bound with paper, the threads of the binding exposed and fraying. Some were bound in leather and, of those, most were worn and cracked, but a few gleamed with newness.
“Books on magic, then?” the pawnshop owner said, his voice rising in volume but dropping in tone. He chuckled. “I get a few from time to time. Oh, you won’t find any there, young man.”
Cery turned to find the man looking at him. The man’s smile faltered for a moment as he realised his error.
“The Guild takes them off you?” Cery asked.
The man shook his head. “No, the Guard come by now and then to check but I’m not fool enough to put something like that on display. And the books go too quickly. In and out. My regular customers know they have to come quick when I let them know something’s arrived, if they want to be the one that gets it.”
“How do you get hold of them – if you don’t mind me asking?”
The man shrugged. “Mostly I get ’em from novices. The ones that come from around here. For some reason they can’t send money direct to their families, so they steal books and sell them to me, and I pass on the money.”
“For a fee,” Cery finished.
The man shook his head. “Oh, I make a good enough profit on selling them. I treat my novices good, ’cause there’s plenty of others they could go to if I didn’t.” He scowled. “Of course, some of ’em try to get me to pass the money on to rot sellers instead. I won’t have any of that. Nasty people, those. Don’t want anything to do with them.”
“Me neither,” Cery replied. “How do you know if a book is real or a fake?”
The man straightened. “Many years’ experience. And a couple spent working in the Guild when I was a young man.”
“Really? You worked for the Guild?” Cery leaned toward the man. “What you get kicked out for?”
The man crossed his arms. “Did I say I got kicked out?”
Cery gave the man a hard look. “You left a job like that?”
The seller hesitated, then shrugged. “Didn’t like being told what to do all the time. As my late wife said, it doesn’t suit everyone. ‘Makkin the Buyer’ is a name that suits me best. Better to be Makkin my fortune than Makkin anyone’s dinner or beds.” He chuckled.
“Fair enough,” Cery said. “I don’t think I could put up with it either. So … when do you think you might get some new books? And what sort can I get?”
Makkin’s eyes gleamed with pleasure. “They arrive when they arrive. Sometimes you wait days, sometimes weeks. I can try to get my novices to steal what you want, but it’s not always possible – or else it takes longer. Price depends on difficulty, and I have to warn you, sometimes one of my more, erm, influential customers takes an interest and buys out everything I have, no matter who ordered it.” The man rubbed his hands together. “What were you after in particular?”
“Something … unusual. Rare. On a particular subject. I don’t care what, just not beginner’s books.”
The man nodded. “I’ll see what I can do. Call back in a few days and I’ll tell you what my boys have or can get.” He beamed at Cery. “Always nice to have a new customer.”
Cery nodded. “Always.” He tilted his head to one side a little. “I don’t suppose you can tell us who your other customers are. Just so I know who I’m up against.”
Makkin shook his head. “Wouldn’t be in business long if I did that.”
“No, I suppose not.” Cery turned toward the door, then looked thoughtful and turned back. “Just curious, but how much would a man have to offer you to be worth risking it?”
“I like being alive too much to even think about it.”
Cery raised his eyebrows. “You must have very influential customers.”
The man smiled. “I look forward to doing business with you.”
Holding back a laugh, Cery turned away. Gol strode forward to open the door for him, and they both stepped out into the street.
It was nearing sunset, and the people still out and about were walking with a hunched and intent stride, no doubt looking forward to getting to their destination. A few steps past the shop, Cery crossed the road and