Imager’s Intrigue Read Online Free Page A

along South Middle, and I’ll see if I can run into Smultyn and Caesaro.”
    Alsoran laughed. “Lyonyt wagered that you’d follow young Santaero up Elsyor.” Alsoran laughed again. “Now, I’ll have to.”
    “The scenery’s better on Elsyor. Go collect your copper,” I replied in a mock-gruff voice.
    We both headed out, walking up Fuosta together, past the cafes and the one bistro, if one could call it that, clustered just up from the station. I alternated eating a mid-day meal, when I ate at all, among the various places where I actually didn’t get indigestion.
    We turned east on South Middle. Just before Dugalle, Alsoran crossed South Middle to take Elysor north. I flexed my imager shields, as much as to make certain that I was holding them as anything, because I’d been forced to develop them early on. They were proof against bullets, and slings and arrows, so to speak, and perhaps small explosions, but not against cannon, falling buildings, and large explosions—as I’d discovered early on as an imager.
    Much as I tried not to spend too much time with the patrollers on their rounds, I still felt that, if I didn’t spend at least a glass a day with one or more of them, I’d end up out of touch with them and with the district. Besides, if I met with them after their rounds, that took their time, and we were stretched thin, and if I met with them in the station during their shifts, then the district wasn’t being patrolled. Also, as I’d discovered early on, I learned more by talking to them on their rounds.
    I glanced at the chest-high brick wall to the right, separating the side yards of the taudis-dwellings from the sidewalk and South Middle. At least the bricks were clean. I’d had to lean on Horazt to get that accomplished, but he’d finally managed to take care of it by the expedient of assigning clean-up duties to those members of his gang who misbehaved. That had actually worked better than either of us had thought because the taudis-gang members didn’t want anyone else writing on the walls after that.
    A block after I crossed Dugalle, still on South Middle, I could see the square structure of the woodworks ahead, on the block before Mando—Seliora’s “simpleworks,” built from the stones and bricks of the former Temple of Puryon. It had taken two years to construct after the temple had been blown up by the Tiempran fanatics. The taudis-dwellers who worked there produced sturdy, simple, but well-finished benches, tables, and chairs designed for bistros, cafes, and taverns. Since those establishments suffered breakage, there was a continuing market for solid and inexpensive furniture.
    Before I reached Mando, I saw Smultyn and Caesaro walking toward me, their eyes scanning the avenue, the side streets, and the yards. They walked not quite casually, alert but relaxed, and that meant the day’s rounds had been good—so far.
    “Good morning, Captain,” offered Smultyn, the short, dark-haired senior patroller of the pair.
    “Good morning. Why don’t we head back the way you came, and you can tell me what you’ve seen this morning?”
    “Yes, sir.”
    As we passed the woodworks, I glanced to my right at the long and low building.
    “Everything’s fine there,” said Caesaro. “Fuhlyt said that all the wood was returned.”
    “Good.” I’d just passed the word to Horazt. “Has anyone said anything more about that smash-and-grab at the silversmith’s?”
    Smultyn shook his head. “Not much. The serving woman at the bistro one door up said that it was a taudis-youth, but one wearing a open jacket with an orange lining, from what she could see.”
    “Orange? That’s one of the Hellhole gangs, isn’t it? The Midroad north of the Guild Square is a long ways from the Hellhole.”
    “It could be a local, using orange,” suggested Caesaro.
    “Not smart.” Smultyn looked to me.
    “I’ll pass the word to what ever taudischef I see next.”
    “Jadhyl was looking for you. He said it