Apsalar-or Sorry, as she had been known before-hadn't been much impressed by her first sight of Darujhistan. For some reason, despite her excitement and anticipation, it had all seemed too familiar.
Disappointed, Crokus had wasted no time in taking her to his uncle's home once they'd stabled Coll's horse. The journey to the city, and then through its crowded streets, had been, for Crokus, a continual storm of confusion. This woman seemed to have a knack for catching him off guard, and all he desired now was to throw her into someone else's lap and be done with it.
Yet, if that was truly the case, why did he feel so miserable about it?
Crokus left Mammot's library and returned to the outer room. Moby chirped and stuck out its red tongue at him from Mammot's desk.
Ignoring the creature, Crokus stood before Apsalar, who'd seated herself in the better of the two chairs-his chair, of course. “I don't understand. From the looks of it, he's been gone for a couple of days at least.”
“So? Is that so unusual?” Apsalar asked casually.
“It is,” he grumbled. “Did you feed Moby as I asked?”
She nodded. “The grapes?”
“Yes.” He placed his hands on his hips. “Strange. Maybe Rallick knows something about it.”
“Who's Rallick?”
“An assassin friend,” Crokus replied distractedly.
Apsalar shot to her feet, her eyes wide.
“What's wrong?” Crokus asked, stepping close. The girl looked positively terrified. He glared around, half expecting to see some demon rise out of the floor or the cupboard, but the room was unchanged-a little messier than usual, though. Moby's fault, he assumed.
“I'm not sure,” she said, relaxing with an effort. “It was as if I was about to remember something. But it never came.”
“Oh,” Crokus said. “Well, we could-”
A knock sounded on the door.
Crokus brightened, walking over to it. “Oh, he probably lost his keys or something,” he said.
“It was unlocked,” Apsalar pointed out.
Crokus opened the door. “Meese! What're you-?”
“Quiet!” the big woman hissed, pushing past him and shutting the door. Her gaze fell on Apsalar and her eyes widened. Then she turned back to Crokus. “Good. I found you, lad! You've seen no one since getting Au, back?”
“Why, no. That's just it-”
“A stabler,” Apsalar said, frowning up at Meese. “Have we met?”
“She's lost her memory,” Crokus explained. “But, yes, we stabled Coll's horse.”
“Why?” Meese demanded, then as Crokus was about to elaborate she went on, “Never mind. The stabler shouldn't prove a problem. Well, we're in luck!”
“Dammit, Meese,” Crokus said. “What's going on?”
She met his eyes. “That D'Arle guard you killed the other night. The one in the garden. They've got your name and description, lad. Don't ask me how. But the D'Arles are talking high gallows when you're caught.”
The blood left Crokus's face. Then his head jerked to Apsalar. He opened his mouth, then shut it again. No, she truly didn't remember. But it must have been her. He collapsed into Mammot's chair.
“We've got to hide you, lad,” Meese said. “Both of you, I guess. But don't you worry, Crokus, me and Irilta, we'll take care of you till something can be worked out.”
“I don't believe this,” he whispered, staring at the wall opposite him. “She betrayed me, damn her!”
Meese looked questioningly at Apsalar, who said, “It's a guess, but I'd say a girl named Challice.”
Meese closed her eyes briefly. “Challice D'Arle, the court's honey these days.” Compassion softened her face as she looked down on Crokus.
“Oh, lad. That's the way of it, then.”
He jerked in the seat and glared up at her. “It isn't any more.”
Meese grinned. “Right. For now,” she said, arms folded over her chest, “we just sit tight till night, then it's the rooftops for us. Don't worry, we'll handle things, lad.”
Apsalar rose. “My name's Apsalar,” she said. “Pleased to meet you, Meese. And thank you for helping Crokus.”
“Apsalar, huh? Well,” her grin broadened, “guess the rooftops will be no problem for you, then.”
“None,” she replied, knowing somehow that she was right in this.
“Good enough,” Meese said. “Now, how about we find something to drink?”