down the hallway and into a narrow access that he opened to get into the roof. He had to boost her up, actually, as she didn’t have the necessary upper body strength to haul herself inside.
Siobhan sat near the opening and looked around. It was dim, with barely any light to see by, which could be a mercy. Not seeing how many spiders were up here was a blessing. The dust was so strong her nose kept twitching, threatening to sneeze.
Rune boosted himself up with a simple heave before replacing the ceiling board. In a low tone, he told her, “Yer eyes will get used ta it up here, no worries.”
“Right.” How in the world had she gotten talked into this?
As he led the way, he explained in a whisper, “The best part of skulki’n is spyi’n on people. It’s fun ta watch.”
“Hence why you’re always up here?”
He just chuckled mischievously, like a boy that had been handed an unexpected present.
“How in the world do you know where you’re going?” she asked in true curiosity. She’d never thought to question that before, but now that she was up here, it was just a huge expanse of open, dark space. There wasn’t anything to signify what rooms were below her, except the odd chimney here and there.
Rune tapped a finger to his temple. “Got the place memorized. Did that first day. First lesson: ya got ta know the layout of the buildi’n otherwise ya get lost quick-like.”
She could certainly see why. The space up here was barely tall enough for them to walk at a stooped level. “Second question: why aren’t you hunched like an old man by now? You can’t walk properly up here.”
Rune shrugged, not concerned about this. He was apparently used to it after all these years.
“So where are we now?”
“Just above the common room, headi’n toward the main dini’n room.” Rune paused and half turned to see her face. “I saw Wolf, Tran and Markl headi’n that direction.”
“Ah, hence your desire to spy on them?”
He gave a sage nod which belied the devilry in his eyes. “Don’t ya want ta know what they do when yer not watchi’n?”
“I know what they do, trust me,” she responded dryly. “Because I usually have to pay for it.”
Rune gave a shrug of agreement but didn’t stop leading her. Then he paused and sank down onto his haunches, pointing downward. Siobhan knelt next to him and saw that there was a small knothole that allowed her to see the center of the room, or at least part of it. A table, some chairs, and a small patch of floor were visible but not much else. Siobhan opened her mouth to ask if he was sure that those three were coming here when she heard Wolf speak.
“It’s cha-po, not chapo.”
“It’s a word from my native tongue, Wolf,” Tran responded in exasperation. “I should know how to say it!”
“No, it can’t be,” Wolf denied. “I hear it used in Robarge all the time.”
“That’s ‘cause people adopted it. It didn’t come from there.”
Rune glanced up at her and whispered in a barely audible tone, “Is that all they do? Argue?”
“That and eat,” she replied sourly. “When they need to, they partner up and fight together seamlessly. But when there’s no one to fight, they fight each other.”
He gave her an odd look. “And ya let ‘em?”
“I stop them when I see it, but they’re two grown men. I’m not going to mother them.”
For some reason, Rune found that even stranger. Had in-fighting been completely outlawed in his previous guild? No, Jarnsmor had said that Silent Order had regular fights that killed off its own members. Perhaps Rune expected her to stop such nonsense and found her unwillingness to dictate Wolf and Tran’s every action odd.
“I’ve never traveled to Teherani,” Markl said in a cautious tone. “And I’m barely familiar with Tran’s language. I can’t begin to offer an opinion.”
“But cha-po is something you hear in Robarge, yes?” Wolf pressed.
“Oh, constantly.”
“It’s chapo, you lughead,” Tran snapped. “At least say it right!”
A chair abruptly scraped back in a screeching sound. “I am saying it right, you ham-handed fool!”
Siobhan let out a weary sigh. “I give it five seconds before the first fist flies.”
Rune cocked his head. “They don’t fight every time they argue.”
“Trust me, that’s a fight waiting to happen.” Seeing that he didn’t believe her, she asked, “Want to bet?”
“Terms?”
“We always wager the same thing,” Siobhan explained. “It’s traditional in the guild now. Whoever loses