17 Serin slammed her head into the man’s face once and retreated, feinting right to avoid the second assailant’s inept thrust. He waved the ancient trident weapon like a switchblade or a prison shank. The first man screamed, blood spurting from his nose. When he doubled over, he knocked over several flasks and decanters from the counter. He dropped the Sai she’d used to find them on the floor. At the other end of the room, a thin curly-haired mark was crawling to the door, unable to stand on his feet because she’d broken his ankle. Her blind ambush was going well, all things considering. She hadn’t expected to find the Sai a second time. Anybody with half a brain would rid themselves of it. But the arms dealers she was tracking weren’t very bright. They also hadn’t been treating the Sa

