The street noises had become quite loud, Baruk noted, as he leaned close to the map to paint the red tide's southern border. Construction work, he concluded, hearing the squeal of winches and a voice bellowing at passers-by. The sounds died away, then there came a loud crack!

Baruk jumped, his right forearm jerking out and knocking over the inkwell. The red ink poured across his map.

Cursing, Baruk sat back. His eyes widened as he watched the spreading stain cover Darujhistan and continue south to Catlin. He stepped down from the stool, reaching for a cloth to wipe his hands, more than a little shaken by what could easily be taken as an omen. He walked across the chamber to the window, bent forward and looked down.

A crew of workers was busy tearing up the street directly below. Two burly men swung picks while three others formed a line passing the shattered cobblestones to a growing pile on the pavement. The foreman stood nearby, his back to a wagon, studying a parchment scroll.

Baruk frowned. “Who's in charge of road maintenance?” he wondered aloud.

A soft knock diverted his attention. “Yes?”

His servant, Roald, took a single step into the room. “One of your agents has arrived, Lord.”

Baruk flicked a glance at the map table. “Have him wait a moment, Roald.”

“Yes, Lord.” The servant stepped back and closed the door.

The alchemist walked over to the table and rolled up the ruined map.

From the hallway came a 1"-ua voice- i6kkovieA'b-Y a murmur. Baruk slid the map on to a shelf and turned in time to see the agent enter, on his trail a xxx. Waving at Roald to leave, Baruk gazed down at the gaudily dressed man. “Good day, Kruppe.”

Roald stepped out and softly shut the door.

“More than good, Baruk, dear friend of Kruppe. Truly wonderful! Have you partaken of the morn's fresh air?”

Baruk glanced at the window. “Unfortunately,” he said,” the air outside my window has become rather dusty.”

Kruppe paused. His arms returned to his sides, then he reached into a sleeve and withdrew his handkerchief. He patted his brow. “Ah, yes, the road workers. Kruppe passed them on his way in. A rather belligerent lot, thinks Kruppe. Indeed, rude, but hardly exceptional for such menial labourers.”

Baruk gestured to a chair.

With a beatific smile Kruppe sat. “Such a hot day,” he said, eyeing the carafe of wine on the mantelpiece.

Ignoring this, Baruk strode to the window then turned his back to it.

He studied the man, wondering if he would ever catch a glimpse of what lay beyond Kruppe's cherubic demeanour. “What have you heard?” he asked softly.

“What has Kruppe heard? What hasn't Kruppe heard!”

Baruk raised an eyebrow. “How about brevity?”

The man shifted in the chair and mopped his forehead. “Such heat.”

Seeing Baruk's expression harden, he continued, “Now, as for news.” He leaned forward, his voice falling to a whisper. “'Tis muttered in corners in the bars, in dark doorways of dank streets, in the nefarious shadows of nocturnal night, in-”

“Get on with it!”

“Yes, of course. Well, Kruppe has caught wind of a rumour. An assassin's war, no less. The Guild is taking losses, “tis said.”

Baruk turned back to the window, his eyes on the street below. “And where do the thieves stand?”

“The rooftops are getting crowded. Throats are being slit. Profits have plummeted.”

“Where's Rallick?”

Kruppe blinked. “He's disappeared,” he said. “Kruppe has not seen him in days.”

“This assassin's war, it isn't internal?”

“No.”

“Has this new force been identified, then?”

“No.”

Baruk's gaze intensified. Below, the street workers seemed to spend more time arguing than working. An assassin's war could be trouble.

Vorcan's Guild was strong, but the Empire was stronger, if indeed these newcomers were Claws. But something felt decidedly odd about the whole thing. In the past the Empress used such local guilds, often recruited from them. The alchemist could discern no purpose behind such a war, and that was even more disturbing to him than the war itself.

Hearing a shuffling behind him, he remembered his agent. He turned and smiled. “You can go now.”

Something flashed in Kruppe's eyes that startled Baruk. The fat man rose in a single fluid motion. “Kruppe has more to tell, Master Baruk.”

Bemused, the alchemist nodded for Kruppe to continue.