Вилорп

→"I refuse to let a sick Assassin lie on my couch."

→"Carry her to the couch," she says.

→Chiaraxi bends over the Assassin.

→"This is getting out of hand. We have to get these sick people out of the tavern."

→I turn towards Gurd.

→"She can't have," I yell. "Not her. Not in my office."

→"She's got the malady," cries Makri.

→Hanama suddenly clutches at her throat and falls forward. A rather puzzling occurrence. She's not the sort of woman to take an insult so badly.

→"Stop having murderous Assassins' conversations at my door," I say, harshly.

→Hanama puts her mouth to Makri's ear and whispers.

→"What is it?" she asks.

→Hanama is softly spoken. Listening to her talk, you'd never believe she'd killed so many people. I detest her, as I do all Assassins. A foul and murderous breed without whom the city would be far better off. I'm about to slam the door in her face when Makri hurries over.

→"Makri."

→"What do you want?"

→There's a very light tap on the inside door. Everyone looks towards it, suspiciously. I open it carefully. I'm confronted by a small, pale woman with dark hair who I'd take to be a worker in the local market if I didn't recognise her as Hanama, number three in the Assassins Guild. I stare at her balefully.

→True, of course. Lisutaris is among the most important people in the city. She can't just disappear. It's our duty to let the authorities know what's happened. It seems as if Gurd has no alternative but to report it all to the local prefect.

→"We can't keep it secret anyway," points out Makri. "People are going to notice if the head of the Sorcerers Guild isn't around."

→"Then I will," replies Chiaraxi.

→"I won't report it," says Gurd, stubbornly.

→"They'll do a lot worse if they find you're trying to conceal an outbreak of the malady," points out the healer.