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

for the guild, and the guild had just tried to kill him. As far as he was concerned, his contract was null and
void. For that matter, so was his membership. Now if he could just keep his life from becoming the
same.

He turned and headed out the room and down the corridor, not really caring if the sorcerer followed him
or not. He reached the top of the stairs. Looking down, he noticed all his cattrips had been swept aside.
He saw with chagrin four more men making their way through the taproom, towards the stairs. He turned
and headed back to the room, just as the sorcerer was coming down the corridor.
"Not that way," he said as he passed him. "Out the window!"

He re-entered the room and went to the window. Leaning out he looked down. All clear. He turned
back into the room. The sorcerer re-entered, and closed the door. He began chanting, waving his hands
over the door. Devon turned back to the window. Looking out, he eyed the wall. Not too bad. He
would be able to climb down easily enough. He turned back in just as the sorcerer finished the
incantation.

"That should hold them for a bit," he said as he came over to the window. He looked out, then looked
back at Devon. "That way?" he asked dubiously. Devon nodded.

"I can climb down. But I don't know how you're going to get down."

"Don't worry about me," the sorcerer replied. "I'm not without resources. You go ahead. I'll be down
right behind you." He stepped back from the window and began another incantation. Devon shrugged his
shoulders. Whatever. He climbed out the window and sat on the sill. Then he turned and, facing the wall,
lowered himself down until he got a foothold. He then began to scale down the wall, carefully finding
footholds and handholds in the aged brick and mortar. Just then he looked up, and nearly lost his grip
with what he saw. The sorcerer was crawling down the wall face first! As each hand and foot touched
the wall, it stuck like it was covered in glue. The sorcerer moved briskly down the wall, quickly passing
Devon. He grinned hugely at the thief as he did so. Devon just smiled and shook his head. Just as Devon
reached the bottom, he heard a loud crash from above him, followed by a brief yell. The thieves must
have finally broken through the sorcerer's door, Devon mused, and ended their companion's misery. Just
as well -- it could take a long time to die of a gut wound. He stepped back and looked up. Two
bandana-covered faces poked their heads out the window. Devon grinned and waved, and then took off
after the already departing sorcerer.


Barak ducked into the first narrow alleyway he came to, a block from the inn. He figured the thief would
want to get out of the open as soon as possible. He was right. The thief ducked into the alley as well,
directly on his heels. He drew up short when he saw Barak waiting for him there.

"Well," said the thief, glancing around. "There's that. Nothing personal you understand -- I was just doing
a job." His face had a hard look. "Now I've got another job. Good travels." He turned to leave.

"Wait!" Barak said. The thief paused, and turned. Barak knew better. Just let him go, the reasonable part
of him said. But Barak was in his debt. "You saved my life back there. If you had not warned me, the
man would have cleaved me in two while I stood there lecturing you about the evils of thievery." The thief
grinned at this.

"Yeah well.. I don't know why I did that. I guess I just hate someone else interfering in my business."