Chapter Two

When Sqweky woke up that morning, he had some bruises. They were nothing much: A few on his legs and only one on his right elbow, he could move it though. He could still get by fairly easy, its not like his shin-splints were acting up. He almost thought they would, but a healer had taken care of them a few years back. Strange, how magic can have such healing powers, and still be so destructive. Kind of like people, many are good, and many are bad...

Sqweky pulled himself out of his philosophical thinking and kept to the task at hand. Get some food first, and then some information. He had taken enough gold for some bread and cheese at a small corner market which, just by chance, had no market license. It also, just by chance, never happened to be noticed. But the bread was good. The prices were cheap too. Sqweky probably could have brought only one gold, but then he wouldn't have been able to get a cup of juice at the fruit stand. (He never drank alcohol.) Prices were high these days, so such black market was very welcome.

"Know where Happy is?" Sqweky asked. Sqweky never talked much, except when he had to. And right now, he had to.

"No one's heard o' Happy since he got took by the Hammers." The shopkeeper replied. A nearly pleasant man named Joe. No one knew where his name came from, not even Joe himself. But he went by it just the same.

"Nathan?"

"House was sacked by some guards and he's been laying so low that he has to look up at the worms. I think he actually left the city. Anyway, if he is free, and in the city, I don't think I could find him. He hides really good."

"Granya?" Sqweky didn't like the old hag, but she had the second best information in the city. With Nathan and Happy gone, at least. And the person with the first best worked for the Downwinders. And that was some trouble he wanted to avoid.

"Yeah... I know where she is. Right at this moment actually."

"Where?"

Joe pointed strait ahead of himself "Right over there."

Sqweky looked. Sure enough, right on the other side of the market was Granya. Just sitting there. She was an old hag with few teeth and fewer morals. But she seemed to have good information at all times. It wasn't hard to pick his way between the few people scattered about the small square; it was still early morning. When he got to where Granya had been though, she wasn't there. Typical, she always was paranoid about crowds of any size. Fortunately, depending on how he looked at it, Sqweky knew exactly where she was. In between two buildings was a small alley that few ever went into. Due to the fact that the people who lived in it had no sewer system in the buildings and so dumped out their honey-buckets into the alley. Sqweky hated the smell, and that was one reason why he did not like Granya. But, it was all he had. He just hoped that he had brought enough gold.

"Well how are ya sweety? Doing well I hope?"

Sqweky hated that matronly voice she had. It seemed it was used to annoy. But he was as polite as he could be. "Fine."

"So, what have ya come here for?"

Sqweky just tossed her a gold coin. She looked at it, bit it, and then stuffed it in a pocket. "Surmas."

"Well what about him Sweety?"

"What's he up to? Left a note, some friends. Maybe gone a week. Nothing to do with Hammers, unless he fails."

"Hmm... Let's see sweety." She knew what his real name was, and that taffing nickname was very annoying, but he kept his peace. "Let's see... The new guy in town, Roland? No... Randolph, yes, that's it. Apparently he brought some competition with him. Now that both are trying to get a hold in the City, the law-breaking scene is getting a bit crowded. And some people say that one group has to go down. I think that both Randolph and his as-of-yet unknown competitor are going for each other, so as to take the district both are trying to get. A few 'informed people' say that Randolph is sending a few... shall we say... 'moles' to make sure that he is the winner."

"We had a job to do for Randolph already. Did it last night. Why take Surmas for something else?"

"Sweety, if I knew that, I would be a richer woman..."

Sqweky tossed her another gold coin. She bit that one too.

"I have to warn you, the sources here start getting unreliable..." Sqweky tossed her a silver coin, which she tossed it back. "They are still unreliable no matter how much you pay Sweety. What they say though, is that the moles are going to try and deliver a few hammers into the heart of the newer man's hideout. With the evidence they'll hear, the Hammers will have enough to arrest and convict them all. The moles will also get medals or some other reward for being 'good citizens.' If they're found, the Hammers will be killed, and then they'll have an excuse to arrest them anyway."

"Why Surmas?"

"Sweety, if I knew that I would be in that gutter right over there." That was her signal to show that she wasn't going to say anything more, despite her voice being a bit harsher than it normally was. So Sqweky left. He looked back, and the crone was gone. She sure could move fast and quick when she needed to.

The next week took only five days, but they were hectic, the coins used to pay Granya were a dear price to pay, and Sqweky had had to cut more than a few pockets open to get the coins just to eat. The rich were rarely seen in this part of the city. When Surmas did come back, he had a bruise or two, but he was calm. Sqweky normally would have been suspicious of the old haggard man who was his mentor. But they had a few signals that were never changed. Whistling if a trap, calm and noiseless if all is fine. Sqweky was mad, furious even, leaving him without a word and only an ambiguous letter for an explanation. He was also filled with relief. Surmas was safe. Surmas had been the closest thing to a parent that Sqweky had ever had. He had saved Sqweky from the other children who were hired to stop thieves from stealing bread and other such things. And they always caught Sqweky. And as he was another child, they took the liberty of beating him. Every time.

Sqweky pulled himself out of reminiscence and thought of the task on hand. He stood about six, maybe ten feet from the door, just off to the side with a dagger in each hand, just in case he needed to. It wasn't that he didn't trust Surmas; he just couldn't in the circumstances. As Surmas opened the door, he did not move inside, he just stood outside, and called in. "The landlord wouldn't appreciate bloodstains on the floor if you throw those at me. Put them down, its safe." Sqweky put one back in its sheath, but kept the other one, ready to throw or not in an instant. "I'm sorry I left, but I didn't have much of a choice."

Sqweky only shifted positions to a more defensive posture.

"It's the truth, now get the wine, we'll need it. I plan on selling it as soon as we can. Pick up some stuff and take it to your hideout, I'll take some more to mine. We're moving." Surmas added, as if it were actually necessary to state the obvious. "When you're done, make sure to meet me. Don't take longer than an hour." And with that, he left to his room. Sqweky no longer had any doubts: This was Surmas. Surmas talked a lot more than Sqweky did, but gave fewer explanations in them. And so Sqweky picked some more general use stuff and readied to go to his hideout. He only asked:

"Normal?" before he left.

"Yes." Was the reply. And so he was off.