* * *
The pirate worked at night, so Syrina did, too. Every dusk, she slipped out the window of her room and crept up to the rooftops. Then she’d skip over the top of the Lip and down the cliff to Velnapasi’s place, where she kept to the shadows and watched who came and went until she’d found someone suitable.
Then Syrina followed her for a week and introduced the woman to Darius N’uld.
* * *
Darius N’uld blinked and swallowed, but his expression remained hard. “I have a package, and I have tin. What’s the problem?”
Marsa Marsan tapped her fingers across the top of her yellow pine desk in a steady rhythm and glared at him with tiny black eyes set over a tiny pointed nose. Angry smashed grapes mounted above the crooked beak of a fighting c**k. N’uld was a puny, grotesque man with a fla
