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

Devon sighed, and rubbed his forehead. The headache that had started on the way over from the inn was
beginning to get worse. He waited a long moment, his head in his hand. Finally, without looking up, he
spoke.
"What is it that is so important it can't wait another day? What is it that must be done by my special
talents?" His voice was thick with sarcasm.

"That's better." Lacroft's grin returned. "Don't worry, you'll like this one. It's a sorcerer". He paused, to
let that sink in. Devon lifted his head to look at Lacroft levelly. He hated working with mages in general --
but sorcerers were by far the worst. His eyes narrowed.

"Continue," he said levelly.

"Of course. Two weeks ago, a sorcerer took up residence at The Roc. We've been watching him, and
we believe he has in his possession a Cloak of Obscurement. Do you know what that is?" His tone took
on the barest hint of belittlement. Devon ignored it.

"Somewhat. It makes the wearer harder to see."

"That's close enough. We believe he's keeping the cloak in his room. Someone else has paid us a large
sum of money to retrieve this item. You are to do it. Today."

"Today?" Devon asked incredulously. "That's ridiculous! I have to prepare! I'm not just going to walk in
on a sorcerer without spending at least a week studying him! What you're asking is suicide."

"We've been watching him for you," Lacroft replied smoothly. "And we've determined all you need to
know. The sorcerer is here for training from Nevelm. Each morning he leaves his room, is gone all day,
and doesn't return until just before dark. Undoubtedly, his room will be warded, but I'm confident you
can handle that. We have further reason to believe that today will be his last day of training. That's why it
must be done today. We've already agreed to the contract, and you just got back, and well, you're really
the only one that can do it." Lacroft leaned back, grinning widely. He seemed immensely pleased with
himself.

Devon just sat across from Lacroft, staring at him numbly -- his mind pondering murder. He couldn't
believe it. Not only was he being asked to break into a sorcerer's personal quarters -- risky business
under the best of circumstances -- but he was being told to do so virtually blindfolded. Devon didn't like
it. Lacroft had sent him on some damned fool missions before, but this was the first time he could recall
being asked to do something so blatantly poised for disaster. Something here wasn't right. Nevertheless,
he knew he really had no choice. To walk out on Lacroft and this assignment was to walk out on the
guild -- and Devon really wasn't ready to do that. He sighed heavily and stood up.

"I'll get my stuff. You'll have your cloak by this evening." He gave Lacroft a cold look. "Do not call me
tomorrow." He turned and walked from the room, going out the main entrance. As he closed the door
behind him, he saw that Lacroft was still sitting at the table -- grinning that damned toothy grin. "Well,"
Devon said to himself. "The easy part's over with. Now to earn my keep". He stood at the top of the
stairs in The Red Roc Inn, looking down a long hallway. His mood had brightened considerably, as it
usually did when he was in his element. And sorcerer or no, this was his element.

He turned and glanced back down the stairs, to the taproom below. It was still empty. It was by now
mid-afternoon, and most of the inn's usual patrons were still busy down at the docks. So far, things had
gone exceptionally well. He had made his way to the help's entrance at the back of the inn, and let himself