Black Flower Hall was on the two top floors of a corner where two rows of buildings met. The general impression was of a relatively well-off neighbourhood, although Saketa didn’t waste time in looking around before striding up the outside staircase. The people heading in either direction, mostly upwards, were dressed rather well, and the big, glowing sign on the side of the two top floors was impressive and elegant without going overboard with it.

Each landing stretched all the way across the building’s entire front, granting access to various businesses, all closed for the night. The only happening place was on top, and Saketa arrived on a roomier landing that made lines manageable.

Effort had been put into making the exterior look distinct from the rest of the building, the double doors seemed to be made from real wood, and the two fellows on either side of it wore matching outfits and had a pleasant, professional demeanour. And each time a guest passed through the inner door its frame flashed a momentary green. Saketa waited a few breaths, and saw a couple walk arm-in-arm to a small booth just inside the outer door.

Right. This place charged for entrance.

A narrow balcony stretched around the corner and along the length of the club, or whatever this place was, so Saketa strolled along it at a casual pace until she was out of sight.

“Fredrak,” she said into the comm.

“Yes?”

“I am at the hall. What about you two?”

“We’re just across the street from ours.”

“There is an entrance fee. I suspect it's relatively substantial.”

“I have a decent load of taxpayer money. I suppose you can get inside easily enough?”

“I can. Farewell.”

There was an open window a bit above head-height. Saketa jumped up and gripped it and peeked inside. It was just about wide enough, and open enough, for her to slip through, but that might draw attention, even without accounting for motion detectors or other security devices. Instead she just let herself drop back down, and now with a clear picture of what lay beyond she Shifted.

She emerged into a dimly-lit hallway by the bathrooms. It was empty for the moment, so she didn’t have to deal with anyone’s shock at her sudden appearance. She just followed the sounds of gentle music out onto the main floor.

There were a few small, separate lounges, and of course a bar, but most of the floor space was taken up by seating and small tables, all of which was set up on a series of steps that faced a stage. A group of performers was leaving by a special door, and the dim lights became slightly less so. Several people got up out of their seats at the same time. Some headed for the bar, and others for the toilets. Saketa supposed there was a break period.

She really wasn’t very good at any kind of subterfuge. The more typical experience had been to stroll into some underworld front or pirate stronghold and let the Warden suit grab everyone’s attention. But that was when she’d had the power to face the results, and back up such a confident display.

Now she walked slowly along the second-lowest step, scanning the crowd for Velda Tyroya’s body type. At first she kept the sword under her coat, but after seeing a man wearing a sword in an elaborately decorated scabbard she tucked the garment behind the weapon, providing easy access.

Her plain clothes stood out in the sea of people who had dressed to look good for an evening out, but no one spared her more than perhaps a slightly lingering glance. This wasn’t a hardened, dangerous place filled with people who had learned to be alert and suspicious. Saketa hoped that would play in her favour. She hoped Tyroya would have no immediate backup, and that this wouldn’t turn into some awful mess.

She finished her pass, then moved up by two steps and went on her second one, in the other direction. It was on her third pass that she spotted a promising candidate.

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It was a woman, whose general features were a match. And she sat with two men. Saketa finished the pass, went up the sloping walkway that went along the western wall, and took the three of them in at a different angle. It still wasn’t conclusive, so she walked the length of the top step until she arrived at a hefty pillar she could put her back to.

Saketa took out the comm.

“Fredrak, I’ve found her.”

“Good. What’s the situation?”

“She is with two others. They look like fighters. Currently she’s just enjoying the show.”

“Ayna…”

There was a momentary silence, and Saketa could picture him signalling the girl.

“We are on our way,” the agent said. “Please don’t engage her until we’re there. Let’s not have this slip through our fingers.”

“Mm. I will continue to observe. Farewell.”

She put the comm away. A few seconds later the lights dimmed again, plunging the seating steps into a cosy gloom. The general chatter died down, then fell to near absolute silence as something was announced over speakers, in the local tongue. The music shifted into something more dramatic, with a somewhat sinister edge. Through that door at the back of the stage came a figure clad in a black cloak that simulated feathers, and a stylised bird mask that covered the whole head like a helmet, and sported a wicked beak.

The performer danced to the music, leaping, spinning and posing dramatically, really making the most of the whole bird theme with the aid of the cloak. It was quite a gripping performance, and Saketa was tempted to lose herself in something pretty and striking. Just for a moment it would be nice to forget about danger and darkness and the Exile and wayward boys and their sad mothers.

But she was at a potentially critical juncture. This was no time to set grim reality aside, and she tore herself away from the human raptor on that stage, only to find that she had gotten lost for a moment. One of the guards had joined her. He stood to the left, just outside of an arm’s length, giving her a threatening look with the ease of one used to such communications.

He opened his mouth and said something, just loud enough for only her to hear over the music.

“I do not speak that,” she responded in Larin, and let her own eyes do the real talking.

“He said you’ve been staring,” Tyroya said from Saketa’s right. “Staring at me.”

Saketa turned her head, but stayed very much aware of the man on her left. Tyroya had come around the pillar, and had the other guard at her back.

“One learns to have a sharp eye,” the woman went on.

“Yes, I suppose you would,” Saketa replied.

“I don’t like strangers observing me,” Tyroya said. She reached out and made a show of adjusting the lapel on Saketa’s coat. “Now tell me what you want.”

“I want to talk.”

“Talk? Oh, there are business hours for that. But you are not here to talk business, are you?”

She made a whole new show out of adjusting the other lapel. Saketa stayed alert for the slightest hint of quick movement.

“And a cop would be less noticeable. I think you are either a rival, or something much worse.”

“Well, I am not a rival,” Saketa told her. “I believe you have been smuggling. And I am not talking about produce or medicine. I do not care about such things. I think you have been moving something far more dangerous. And possibly someone, as well.”

The lack of surprise or outrage on the woman’s face pretty sealed the matter, as far as Saketa was concerned. Tyroya put up a smile that was clearly meant to look inauthentic.

“I don’t want to see you again when I leave this place,” the woman said. “You are making me miss a very lovely performance as it is. Show yourself-”

“Just speak to me, and there will be no need for us to see each other ever again,” Saketa demanded.

“I don’t like you,” Tyroya said, and now glared above her fake smile. “And if you keep pushing me you will find out just how much I don’t like you. We’re not going to fight it out in here, but-”

“I fight wherever I need to,” Saketa told her harshly. “Now talk to me.”

The woman stared back. She was too seasoned in the shadier side of life to give much away, but Saketa sensed clearly enough where things were headed.

Tyroya stepped to the side and said something, and her two guards immediately sprang into action. Saketa felt a hand brush her from behind, but she’d been preparing a very minor Shift. Just enough to reappear behind the one who’d been in front of her. She spun around and kicked at the back of his knee. The other two stood in confusion for a moment, which was the opening she needed to swing a kick into the side of his head. Then they came at her.