"Dusty Monk - The Cloak & The Dagger" - читать интересную книгу автора (Monk Dusty)

been Gareph -- Lacroft's lackey. Boy's smarter than he looks, Devon chuckled to himself. He closed the
door, and turned back to face the room. It was a mess. Dirty, travel-worn clothes littered the floor. His
bed was in chaos. He had arrived at the inn the previous evening, after a two-week journey performing
Lacroft's last assignment. The trip had been a success, and he had celebrated enthusiastically. He glanced
at the window. It was midmorning judging by the light and the activity on the street. He looked back at
the bed longingly, and sighed. What in bloody Asu did Lacroft want with him now. Devon ran a hand
through his disheveled hair, and eyed the chamber pot unpleasantly.

An hour later found Devon dressed, reasonably presentable, and standing before the door to the Mission
Hall in Port Kaleer's wharf district. He opened the door and entered into a narrow, dimly lit hallway.
Devon moved down it quickly. He expertly stepped from one unseen panel on the floor to another,
taking giant, leaping strides, without even thinking about it. He moved past several doors on both sides of
the hall without slowing. They were all fake anyway. They either led to a brick wall or a quick death. At
the end of the hall, ten feet past the last door on the right, he stopped, and turned to face the blank stone
wall. With barely a moment's thought he reached out and touched a certain stone in the wall masonry --
unremarkable against the others. The stone slid in a fraction of an inch, there was a satisfying snick, and
Devon tilted his head sideways just as several darts erupted from the wall in front of his face and whistled
past his head, imbedding in the wall behind him. Devon knew that a guard would be along in a few
minutes to remove the darts from the wall. A large, rectangular crack appeared in the wall, and then
widened as a section of the wall slid towards him. The section of wall rotated on its center, and he
squeezed through the opening into the room beyond -- the Mission Hall.

The Mission Hall was a largish room, and richly furnished. Large tapestries with intricate design adorned
the walls, and numerous pieces of weaponry hung on display at various locations. The floor was of highly
polished white marble, and set in the center of the room was a large ornately carved table of dark
thistledale wood. Plush high-backed chairs ringed the table, and there was sitting for at least ten people.
Opposite the room from where Devon stood a pair of guilded double doors served as the room's main
entrance. The entrance Devon had taken was the guildsmen entrance -- more heavily trapped, but much
less guarded. The main entrance was used by those visiting the guild, requesting some specific task or
service. He walked over to the table, pulled out a chair, and sat down. He knew that Lacroft was
watching him, and would undoubtedly be along in a few minutes.

It took, in fact, less than five before Lacroft's wiry form came through the doors, his face in a scowl.
"You're late," he said without preamble. "I summoned you over an hour ago. What was the matter --
couldn't get the harlot out of your bed?" Lacroft's scowl turned into a toothy grin. It really wasn't very
pretty, Devon thought. The scowl was much more appealing. Lacroft bore more resemblance to a
badger -- both in appearance and manner -- than to any of his fellow humans. He pulled out a chair and
sat down across from Devon. "Whatever it is Lacroft," Devon said wearily, "find someone else. I just got
back into town yesterday, and I'm taking a break."

"I'm well aware of when you got back Devon," Lacroft said grinning. "And I agree, you do need a break.
But it'll have to wait. Until tomorrow."

"I don't think you understand," Devon said evenly. "I'm taking a break. Beginning today. Find someone
else to pilfer House Vindel's china".

"And I don't think you understand, Mr. Winter," Lacroft replied, his voice taking on an edge. "There is no
one else. This is not some house burglary. It's a delicate job, and you're the only one that's really
qualified." Lacroft paused, and then added emphatically, "You have no choice."