Ticca didn't have time to correct before her face slammed into the muddy uneven cobblestones of the dark alley. Landing poorly also shot pain shot through her left side. Air and rational thought blown away. Gasping for breath, she tried to move. Her right arm was being held twisted behind her and so far upwards, she felt like her shoulder was about to be dislocated from the strain.

Her attacker reversed his stance, never letting go of her right arm, as he jammed it higher. He planted a knee into the center of her back, putting his full weight down and preventing her from being able to take in a much-needed breath.

“Who are you working for, missy?”

Ticca marveled at the oddly beautiful sound of that soft whisper.

“You tossed a spell from your perch. What was it?”

She heard the sound of glass tinkling. Adrenaline and years of training finally took over. This was someone from the Night Market. He wouldn't be interested in capturing her. The elixir being pulled held only death.

With fear-fueled strength, she braced her right foot for leverage and kicked her left foot backward toward the back of her head. A crunching sound ripped the air as her foot hit something that gave in before she made full contact with her attacker’s body. He fell forward, letting go of her arm, as a small glass vial bounced away on the cobblestones.

I might as well make this look good.

Swinging her right foot up to join the left over her head, she moved her freed arm to the ground and completed the reverse roll by pushing with her arms and rolling to her feet in a maneuver that would have made her trainer smile.

The attacker rolled away and started to stand. His cloak tented out as he started pulling a weapon.

Ticca’s hands were already on her knives but the motion sent stabbing pain up her arm and shoulder.

I won’t beat him in a knife fight with this arm. ‘Action is better than reaction,’ her trainer’s voice said in her memory.

Grimacing against the coming pain, she jumped over her attacker, kicking off to spin as she launched. Her body automatically followed through with a twist in the air, to land with her right arm looped around the man’s neck. She slid down his back, locking her right arm with her left. Just as she felt the pull on her arm, she twisted hard in the opposite direction with her weight leveraging against his body. As she tightened her arm, ripples of agony shot through her back and neck from the shoulder. Ticca clamped her mouth shut to keep from screaming. Her momentum was arrested with a loud crack from the man’s neck.

His body jerked, and she thought she heard a hiss of surprise as they fell in a pile. The strong smell of dung and piss filled her nose confirming he was dead. Her right arm and shoulder throbbed, her back hurt, and she was sure she was bruised over most of her body. But he was dead, and she wasn’t. In short, the best outcome possible.

Lords and Ladies, how did he spot me?

She swallowed hard a few times to get control of her emotions and thoughts.

Lady, he was going to kill me, wasn’t he?

Looking over the first person she had ever killed, her heart raced and her hands shook uncontrollably. She wiped her hands on her leggings as she breathed deeply, trying to find some balance. She looked at his tanned, rough-shaven face. Except for the angle of his neck, he looked like he was sleeping. It was definitely the Knife she had just spied on.

I should get away from here fast. But first, I might need some clues as to who exactly he was, and he surely won’t need his gear anymore. He was a Knife. I doubt anyone would lay claim to his valuables.

Making sure that no one was watching, she grabbed his boots. Her fur trapper trained hands immediately registered the unusual quality of the soft leather. Suppressing the urge to look closer, she dragged him deeper into the alley. Once a reasonable distance from the street, she pulled the boots off and tucked them under her cloak. Next she examined him for clues. She noticed that one of the two pouches smelled awful and was soaked in something that fumed, with wispy smoke tails curling to the sky.

That was the crunching sound when I kicked him. I hit that pouch of elixirs. Deciding any elixirs a Knife would carry should be avoided she went for the other pouch. It was a simple leather belt pouch so she took it and the belt it was on. The belt came with some knives and his short sword. There was nothing else on him.

Ticca inched towards the alley entrance.

It has only been a few minutes since he grabbed me, but it feels like it has been a whole mark, and his neck breaking was pretty loud. Why is the guard never there to help, but always to arrest?

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Her thoughts raced over the events as she passed the point where they had fought. On the ground, was a small glass vial. She picked it up and turned it over, inspecting the seal. It was tight, and there was a semi-clear, brownish liquid inside.

This might be something interesting for later. She slipped it into her own belt pouch.

The shiny wet street was still not busy; no one was close by. No longer feeling the cold, and with a quick glance to insure no one was looking her way, she stepped out and continued on her original path in a confident walk.

With the attack replaying in her head, she was surprised to find herself standing in front of her destination, the Blue Dolphin Inn. Collecting her thoughts, she stepped up to the door of the massive three-story, two-block-wide tavern. Her eyes took in the large platform jutting out of — and towering four stories over — the tavern, with its massive gleaming, six-foot-wide metal hoop set into the stone. Legend, and the tavern owner, claimed that it was a favorite moorage port for the Emerald Heart, Damega’s flying ship. The only thing that made her accept the story was that absolutely no one she knew questioned it, and many more had relatives or friends who claimed to have some connection to the Emerald Heart. But Damega and his famous flying ship hadn’t been seen in many generations.

The Blue Dolphin’s large double doors were both closed against the evening’s cold. She easily pushed the left one open and stepped into the din. The scents and sounds of the room threatened to knock her back out into the street. The smoke was filled with many odors, including a hint of some less than legal substances. The room’s main smell was the sweet scent of copious amounts of hyly, being served from the large kegs behind the bars. Her nose adjusted, although she still occasionally rubbed it as the smoke tickled it. The three large fires were well stoked, keeping the room warm. Two bards had taken up places at opposite ends of the large room and were still in no danger of interfering with each other over the loud conversations.

Ticca scanned the tables, hoping to find an open one, which of course, there wasn’t. A handful of the tables had rather nice-looking daggers stuck into them, standing straight up. She noted all the Daggers sitting at those tables. Not recognizing any of them as friends, she moved stiffly towards the left-hand side of the room. Finding a place at a communal table, she sat down. Within a few minutes, one of the serving girls came by with a tray of hyly mugs. Ticca helped herself to one and ordered some of the evening’s meal. The girl nodded and moved off.

Sighing, Ticca took a mouthful of the sweet liquid. As she swallowed, she enjoyed the warm, burning feeling that spread through her body. Without looking around, she took a couple more deep draughts, leaving the mug almost empty. As the warmth of the room, the melodic lute music, and warm hyly seeped into her bones, the aches of the attack and the numbing cold of the night abated, while the fight continued to replay in her mind. It took a while to relax. Shoving the feeling that everyone was watching her aside, she let the music and mood of the room soothe her.

Smiling, she straightened her back and began identifying the room’s occupants. A traveling merchant or six were always there, and that night was no exception. The local merchants were feeding them and plying them with hyly, looking for the best deal on whatever stock they’d brought in. There were the dozen or so Daggers, all trying to upstage each other with drinking, wrestling, and knives. The card players’ tables were all over full tonight, with dozens of spectators, signaling that some big game was playing out.

Just as she was feeling a little relaxed, a loud thunk announced her food had arrived and made her nearly jump out of her seat. Under the table, her hands had already drawn her dagger and knife. Looking up, her heart racing, she saw it had been Ellar, one of the many servers, who’d brought her meal.

Relax, Ticca, relax. The dead stay dead, and it’s safe here.

Ellar was young, maybe twelve years of age, and had been acting increasingly shyer around her for the last few weeks. She looked into his eyes and smiled in thanks as she slipped her weapons back into their sheaths. He turned a bright red, gave a nod, and dashed behind another table with his large tray of plates. His reaction made her feel almost human again. Her mood lifted as she watched Ellar retreat. She started giggling.

Yep, he has definitely taken to me.

Looking at the food, she was surprised to see it consisted of some good cuts of meat and two small loaves, instead of one.

I guess there are benefits to giving him a little smile.

She grabbed her knife and started eating the good food which the evening’s work was sure to cover.

It was no surprise that as she was finishing the meal and a second mug, Sula appeared and sat across from her.

How does she do that? I would have sworn she wasn’t even in the room a minute ago.

“You’re eating well tonight.”

“With the bits you pay, I can finally afford to not starve.” Looking into Sula’s dark eyes, she smirked. “I’m doing a lot better than your previous thugs.”

Sula looked at her and tossed the same insult she had been using since Ticca’s first rapid success. “Yes, using an inconsequential thug has worked out.” A hint of humor tinged the emerald pools of Sula’s eyes. “You can track the next link.”

That was not a question.

She obviously can detect that bit of magic she insists I use, Ticca thought, not for the first time. I know she doesn’t follow me. But her information is sometimes too good, especially about what to expect or look for.

Again, Ticca worried about exactly what was playing out. Sula had a lot of coin, and the senior Daggers acknowledged her as a serious client.

I hope I am working for the right side. My gut says I can trust Sula, but there is something unique about her.

“When you’re done, meet me in your room.” Sula stood. Her clothes were nondescript, neither rich, nor poor. Her cream-colored blouse was loose cut, but not so loose as to hide her obviously large, well-proportioned breasts, as she leaned in closer to say softly, “You might consider a bath and change of clothes first.” Her green skirt matched her eyes and swept all the way to the floor. It showed off both her fine female figure, as well as her graceful moves, as she glided away into the crowd around the bard.

Stunned, Ticca looked down at herself. The whole front of her shirt and pants were caked in drying scum. Her cloak’s edges showed that it, too, was in need of a cleaning.

Oh, my. I didn’t even notice the alley sludge. I must have it all over my face and neck, too. No wonder, I haven’t had to fend off any drunks yet.