"Steven Piziks - Chain, Link, Fence" - читать интересную книгу автора (Piziks Steven)

Chain, Link, Fence
Steven Piziks

"What," the fence asked, "am I supposed to do with that?"



Kordel would have ground her teeth, but her jaws were already aching. "Buy it," she said evenly.



The fence merely snorted.



Kordel flared her nostrils and shot a glance at the statue on the table between them. The silver figure of a
man about ten inches high was chained to a miniature table with gem-encrusted bonds. One improbably
proportioned part of the man's anatomy speared skyward. His head was thrown back in what was either
a shudder of ecstacy or a grimace of agony. Since he was alone on the table and his hands were chained
down, Kordel rather imagined it was the latter.



"What'll you give me for it?" Kordel said through still-clenched teeth.



The fence barked a short laugh that echoed slightly about the spartan white walls of his seemingly empty
shop; a wise fence kept his merchandise out of sight. Two heavy velvet curtains obscured the back room
while a single window threw a hard square of light on the stone floor.



"Look, Kordel," the fence said, ignoring Kordel's glare, "you stole the statue of Sybaritus from the temple
downtown. Very nice. A feather in your cap, and all that."



"Any temple with a back door deserves to be burgled," Kordel muttered.



"But," the fence continued, waggling a thin, bony finger, "this piece is . . . unique. If word gets out I have
it, I'm going to have a bunch of murder-minded cultists on my hands." He steepled his fingertips. "Why
don't you try pulling out the gems and melting it down?"



"I thought of that four fences ago," Kordel snapped. "But the thing isn't pure silverтАФonly gilded. And the
gems are barely semi-precious."