"And where do we find this information broker?"
"The Notice Board. It's her usual territory." I paused, considering the risks. "Problem is, if we can think of looking for her there, so can Blackwood's people."
"Then we better be careful."
We took a circuitous route through the less traveled parts of the city, avoiding main thoroughfares where we might be spotted. My Threat Assessment skill proved its worth several times, alerting me to potential watchers or patrols before we stumbled into them. Apparently, word of our escape had spread quickly through whatever network was hunting us.
"You're getting twitchy," Kira observed as I steered us away from yet another street for no obvious reason.
"Survival instinct," I replied, which was technically true. "Something about this whole situation feels like a trap waiting to happen."
"More than usual?"
"Considerably more than usual. I'm starting to miss the days when my biggest worry was whether a kobold was going to eat my face."
The Notice Board square was different at night. Gone were the crowds of adventurers arguing over expedition postings and merchants hawking dubious equipment. Instead, the space was populated by shadowy figures conducting the kind of business that didn't benefit from daylight scrutiny.
"Charming neighborhood," Kira muttered, her hand resting casually on her hammer's handle.
"The city's finest," I agreed. "Try to look like you belong here. Desperate and morally flexible should do it."
We approached the massive notice board itself, now covered with a different sort of posting than the daylight variety. Coded messages, offers for "discrete services," and notices that were probably recruitment attempts for various criminal enterprises.
"See your friend anywhere?" Kira asked, scanning the scattered groups of people in the square.
"Not yet. But—"
"Jin Harker," a familiar raspy voice said from directly behind us. "Still managing to attract the wrong sort of attention, I see."
I turned to find Morrigan emerging from the shadows beside a closed equipment stall, her collection of pendants and charms catching what little light was available. How she'd gotten behind us without my new skill detecting her was troubling.
"Morrigan," I said, trying to sound pleased to see her rather than wondering if she was about to sell us to the highest bidder. "Just the person I was looking for."
"Of course you were." She studied Kira with obvious interest. "And you brought the Arena fighter. How delightfully dramatic."
"You know who I am?" Kira asked.
"I know many things, dear. For instance, I know that someone posted a rather generous bounty for information leading to your capture. Dead or alive, though alive pays better." Morrigan's gap-toothed smile wasn't particularly reassuring. "Fortunately for you, I prefer long-term business relationships to quick profits."
"How generous is 'rather generous'?" I asked, morbid curiosity getting the better of me.
"Enough to tempt most of the city's less scrupulous residents. You've made quite an impression on someone."
"Blackwood," Kira said flatly.
"One assumes." Morrigan gestured for us to follow her toward a more secluded part of the square. "Though the contract was placed through intermediaries. Professional distance, you understand."
We settled into the shadow of a closed tavern, far enough from other groups to speak without being overheard. My Threat Assessment skill was painting the area with subtle warnings—lots of dangerous people nearby, but none immediately focused on us.
"What can you tell us?" I asked.
"About the bounty? Standard assassination contract, placed about an hour after you returned to the city. Someone wanted you eliminated quickly and quietly." Morrigan leaned closer. "What's interesting is who took the contract."
"Syndicate professionals?"
"Oh no, dear boy. Much more expensive than that. Someone hired the Velvet Knives."
Kira went very still. "The Velvet Knives don't take contracts for less than a thousand gold."
"Precisely. Someone considers you worth a considerable investment." Morrigan's eyes glittered. "The question is why two failed adventurers warrant that level of attention."
I thought about what we'd witnessed in the Crimson Labyrinth, about Blackwood's confession and the evidence we could provide. Maybe we were worth killing after all.
"Can you tell us where these Velvet Knives operate from?" I asked.
"I could. But that information would cost extra."
"I already paid you—"
"For surveillance of Blackwood's activities, yes. Counter-assassination intelligence is a different service entirely." She held up a gnarled hand before I could protest. "However, given the circumstances, I'm prepared to offer a package deal."
"What kind of deal?"
"Information about the assassins' current base of operations, plus their planned movements for the next day. In exchange..." She paused dramatically. "You help me with a small personal matter."
I was getting tired of people wanting me to solve their personal problems, especially when my own problems involved professional killers and false murder accusations.
"What kind of personal matter?" Kira asked.
"Nothing too strenuous. Just a small retrieval job from a location where conventional methods have proven... inadequate."
"You want us to steal something," I translated.
"Such an ugly word. I prefer 'recover lost property from its current unauthorized possessors.'"
"And if we refuse?"
Morrigan shrugged. "Then you're on your own against some of the most skilled assassins in the kingdom. I'm sure that will work out splendidly."
I looked at Kira, who seemed to be weighing our options. We needed information about the Velvet Knives if we had any hope of proving who hired them. And capture one of them? That would require knowing where to find them first.
"What exactly would we be retrieving?" I asked.
"A small wooden box. Very old, very valuable, currently in the possession of someone who acquired it through less than legitimate means."
"From where?"
"The Merchant's Consortium vault. Sub-basement level three."
Kira stared at her. "You want us to break into the Merchant's Consortium vault? Are you insane?"
"Not break in, dear. Walk in. I have the access credentials and floor plans. You just need to do the actual retrieval while I maintain plausible deniability."
I had to admit, it was better than trying to storm a Velvet Knives safehouse with nothing but a hammer and an enchanted dagger. Barely.
"Assuming we agree to this insanity," I said, "what do we get besides information about the assassins?"
"The satisfaction of helping an old woman recover her stolen property, plus detailed intelligence on Blackwood's recent activities and his known associates." She paused. "Oh, and a way to prove he hired the Velvet Knives."
"You have proof?"
"I will, once you retrieve my property. The box contains certain... records that various people would prefer to keep private. Including records of who has been paying for discrete services through intermediary accounts."
Payment records. Financial proof linking Blackwood to the assassination contract. It was almost too good to be true, which in my experience usually meant it was.
"When would this retrieval need to happen?" I asked.
"Tonight. The vault's security rotation changes at midnight, giving us a two-hour window before the next patrol."
I looked at Kira again. She seemed to be thinking along the same lines I was—that this was probably a terrible idea, but possibly our only option for getting the proof we needed.
"Jin," she said quietly, "we're not exactly master thieves."
"No," I agreed. "But we're getting pretty good at not dying, which might be close enough."
"So?" Morrigan asked expectantly. "Do we have an agreement?"
I thought about the Velvet Knives hunting us, about Blackwood's lies to the Guild, about the need to clear our names before we could even think about investigating his other crimes.
"We have an agreement," I said. "But if this is a trap—"
"Then you'll die horribly and I'll find other people to help with my problem," Morrigan said cheerfully. "Standard business risk, really."
As we followed her away from the Notice Board toward whatever insanity she had planned, I reflected on how my life continued to find new and creative ways to become more complicated.
Breaking into the Merchant's Consortium vault. With an information broker of questionable motives. To steal evidence that might prove we weren't murderers.
Really, some days I miss the simple terror of kobold warrens.