she took out one of the charcoal sticks and handed it to Sharkbait. "Show me how to make my name."
They were still at it when Kitten and Ferret came in.
"Any word from your noble friend?" Ferret asked the longshoreman.
"Not yet," he replied. "I'm here because Donkey sent word that he wanted to talk to me. Do you know what he wants?"
Ferret shrugged. "I've no idea. Sounds like the crowd's thinning; if it is, Donkey will be along, soon."
At that moment, Squirrel came through the door; almost immediately, Donkey slipped in from the taproom. "What's troubling you, Donkey?" Sharkbait asked him.
"Sharkbait, do the names Elkhar or Dedemar or Rhydev mean aught to you?" Donkey asked him calmly.
Sharkbait's face went still as an effigy. "Why?" he whispered, his lips barely moving. "Donkey, why?"
"I overheard Elkhar and Dedemar speaking, this noontime. They talked about someone they called 'the Lady,' who was displeased because..." He faltered as he sorted the original conversation from the overlay of conjecture he had fashioned. "Because a wallet had gotten lost. The one named Elkhar called it 'evidence,' and all but accused the other man of making it disappear. There was a kill, which went smoothly: the Sea Hawk was murdered, but he didn't have the wallet when the watch found him. So the Lady was angry about the wasted money: money for the assassins, for the evidence—happen it was a great deal of money."
"Was that everything?" Sharkbait grated.
"Na. Elkhar told Dedemar he'd best throw her a bone—the Lady. And Dedemar said to tell her her puppy is meeting Rhydev tonight, after midnight, at the Replete Feline."
"The Replete Feline?" Kitten repeated. "That's where Magpie works—used to be the Fat Cat. Come on; it must be getting on toward midnight. Let's go!"
"No!" Sharkbait snapped. "Kitten, this isn't a game; or if it is, the stakes are too damned high!"
"Did that lot make sense to you?" Donkey asked.
"Enough of it did to convince me that this is no matter for children! It's Council politics; and there's nothing more vicious than Council Houses engaged in intrigue."
"So this has to do with the plot on the Emperor's life?" Squirrel asked. "Who's the Lady?"
"Don't you listen? " Sharkbait demanded. " This is too dangerous! "
"We listen," Donkey said placidly. "Happen we dinna agree."
Sharkbait studied their uncompromising faces. Pain and worry twisted his features and he raked his fingertips through his dark hair. "Gods," he murmured. "How will I live with myself if I let any of you get killed? Ferret." He focused on the thief, pleading. "Council intrigue is worse—far, far worse —than the infighting in the Thieves' Guild. It's no place for any of you, but think of Mouse and Kitten."
Ferret regarded the longshoreman levelly. "Happen I'm thinking of Owl."
"But this hasn't a thing to do with him!"
"Owl thought it did," Ferret said, her voice quiet, almost gentle. "And he said the Emperor needs us."
"I don't give a damn about the Emperor!" Sharkbait cried.
"You should," Mouse put in, primly.
"The Emperor's always a target, or a pawn, or a puppet. It goes with the crown; a warning isn't enough to save him. But if you get mixed up in this mess, someone's bound to get hurt."
"Give it up," Donkey suggested. "We're in it already. You willn't convince us otherwise. And if you refuse us your help, we're even more vulnerable. So who's the Lady?"
Sharkbait wrestled with his conscience, but finally, he sighed, turning one palm upward in a gesture of defeat. "Lady Ycevi Ghytteve—I'd guess; at least, Elkhar is a Ghytteve man. Ycevi is the Councilor for House Ghytteve. She's vicious, and she's always scheming. Rhydev is the House Azhere Council Lord. Azhere and Ghytteve are usually at each other's throats."
"Who's the Lady's puppy?" Squirrel asked.
"That I don't know." Sharkbait sighed again. "Though I daresay I could find out for you."
"Good," Ferret responded promptly. "I'll come with you."
"No."
"Then I'll