A Flight of Ravens by John Conroe (books to improve english .TXT) 📕

work clothes and the heavy boots that we favor for travel and for blending in, with Drew’s longer hair pulled back and tied and a scuff of whiskers on both of our faces. We should look to be maybe tradesmen or laborers.  Exactly the type of customers he would be used to, so why the flicker of a frown racing over his features?

“You have a fine shop, Mr…” I said, raising my brows.

“Oh it’s not my shop—I just work here,” he said, bushy brows raising in surprise, a slightly nervous surprise.

“Well, it seems a fine place for us to buy some replacement clothes,” I said with a nod toward Drew, who waved a hand at the now completely torn-out knee of his trousers. Under his left arm, he had a new pair he must have grabbed on the way through the aisles.

“Well, that we can certainly handle, although might I also suggest a repair.  I’ve fixed much worse, and clothing is too expensive to waste,” he said, eyes focused on Drew’s leg.

“Really? You can fix these?” Drew asked, glancing down.

“Absolutely. Tough material like that stiches up tight and strong,” he said with a smile.

“Do I just wait for them, then, Mr…” Drew asked.

“Kazilionum, and I’m afraid I can’t do them today. I’ve got several orders ahead of you.  I won’t be able to get to them until tonight.”

“So maybe I should buy a pair to wear home and leave these with you, then?” Drew said.

“Absolutely,” Kazilionum said with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“Well, I grabbed this pair out front and they look like they’ll fit, so can I change somewhere?”

The tailor pointed to a cloth-covered opening just to Drew’s right.  The Shadow nodded and pushed the hanging material aside to reveal a tiny booth just barely big enough for one person to switch clothes.

“So, who is the proprietor if not you, Mr. Kasilionum?” I asked, pretending to examine a work jacket.

“Ah, that would be Mr. Andru,” he said, his hands busy pinning one piece of fabric to another.  He glanced at me over his spectacles, then back down at his work.

“Well, this is a much nicer shop than we’re used to,” I said.

“Oh?  Just where do you hail from?”  he asked, eyes flicking to the booth Drew was now noisily changing in.

“All over, but Lil most recently.”

Drew stepped out, buttoning the front of his new pants, the torn pair slung over his shoulder.

“I’ll take those then,” the tailor said, starting to come out from behind his worktable.  Just then, the crabshells on the front door rattled loudly and a deep voice yelled out, “I’m back!”

The tailor froze in place, his expression startled, maybe even slightly panicked before shifting to something like relief.  “That would be Mr. Andru just now.  Back here, boss, with a pair of customers.”

His whole demeanor set me on edge, and I could see Drew turning so that his back was to the side wall, a move that I was already copying.

Heavy boots thudded on the floor as the unseen proprietor headed our way.  The clothing shelves and racks weren’t as high as my head, but I still couldn’t see the individual moving noisily through the aisles. And then he suddenly appeared between two shelves of clothes.

Heavy was the word that came to mind. He was shorter than Soshi, maybe as tall as Rose, but his meaty shoulders brushed the clothing on each side of the aisle and his head was covered in thick, dark hair tied in a long ponytail, and his face was hidden under a truly impressive beard that hung down to his broad chest.  Dark eyes zeroed in on me for a second before shifting to Drew.  The smallest furrow appeared between his eyes. He looked like someone had taken a big man of two span in height and shoved him down into a span and a half.

Motion from the tailor caught my eye as the old man literally threw himself forward to grab the pants hanging from Drew’s shoulders.  His hand had no sooner touched them when his whole body locked up.  “Agents!” he yelled, his free hand moving toward the Shadow.  Drew lifted his own arm to block the perceived strike, only to jerk backward as soon as he connected, his body shaking and his eyes rolling up as he fell.

The stocky Andru turned with startling speed and thundered toward the front of the store.

I spun and fired the single shot bolter I yanked from under my shirt behind me.  The dart hit the old tailor and dropped him like a bag of rocks.  Then I was running for the front of the store.  The door was hanging from one hinge, the other ripped free from the wood by the violence of its opening.  Outside, I found Cort picking himself up off the ground.

“Sorry, boss. He ran me over like a crazed mule,” the sturdy sapper said.

“Damn it!” I said, looking at the thick crowd in the market for any sign of my quarry. A few startled people looked our way, but Andru was long gone.

“Will this help?” Cort asked, his expression trying for innocence while his eyes were gleeful.  His right hand held out a small piece of red cloth with some long black hairs twisted about it.  “I grabbed for his hair and this came off in my hand.”

“Outstanding,” I said, giving him a grin, then a frown.  “You okay?”

“A little dizzy, boss.  That guy hit like a battering ram.”

“Yes he does, Cort. Like all his people,” I said.

Chapter 26

“He’s a what?” Cort asked when we were back at the Lost Lobster.

“Nuk.  Or at least of Nuk descent,” I said.  “He’s too tall to be pure blood.”

“Nuk?  I thought that was a fairy tale that mothers and bards told,” Cort said, shooting Trell a confused look.

The bard raised both hands to shoulder height, palms out.  “I didn’t know they were real, either.”

The rest of my team turned my way: Drew and Kassa, who were securing