(Scars do not appear to be cause of death –shock ... - Bad Request

Chapter 93
Marquez looked up from the table as I approached. "You here about Barse's
daughter Jasilya?"
"She's free. She should be back here shortly."
He clapped me on the shoulder. "Good work. You want the first part of the
key that will get you under Curst? Here it is: 'Such place eternal justice had
prepared for those rebellious...' Go talk to Kitla over there. She's got the
second part of the key."
That could wait until the morning. All I wanted at the moment was a bed I
could lie on until my wounds knit shut. We paid for our rooms and headed
upstairs, passing by small groups whispering to one another, each with a
practiced way of surreptitiously glancing at us as we walked past. More than
one pair secretly passed coin for small satchels of contraband in exchange,
hidden behind prostitutes who displayed their wares so broadly you'd think
they were getting a cut from the hidden smuggling done behind their backs.
If Annah hadn't taught me so well to keep an eye out, I would never have
noticed.
Upstairs a particularly twitchy man glanced at me with a wince. His gaze
wasn't nearly as practiced, and he held himself with a tension that spoke of
him being an outlander. I approached the mousy little man with darting
frightened eyes. "Please don't hurt me!" he whispered. "They'll kill me if
they find me!"
I blinked, "Who will kill you?"
"The guards. They're after me. I think I offended someone with a question,
or said something to the wrong person. I was just offering an opinion, but it
seems like you have to speak in a certain way here. It's all corrupt!"
"Who are you, anyway?"
"I'm Berrog Quickshoes, traveler and problem-solver. I guess you could call
me a thief, but I prefer to call myself an engineer - traps and puzzles and so
forth. I only use my skills for good ends - I hate to harm anyone. I guess that
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