Opening his eyes, Jimmy discovered a leathery face hovering over his own. A toothless smile greeted his return to full consciousness. “Well, well,” said the old man with a chuckle. “You’re back with us again, you are. I’ve seen all manner of things floating in the sewers over the years. Never thought I’d see the royal hangman tossed into the scumways, though.” He continued to chuckle, his face a grotesque dancing mask in the guttering candlelight.
Jimmy couldn’t make sense of the old man’s words, until he remembered the hood he had worn. The old man must have removed it. “Who . . .?”
“Tolly I’m called, young Jimmy the Hand.” He chuckled. “Must have come to some difficulty to find yourself in such a fix.”
“How long?”
“Ten, fifteen minutes. I heard the splashing about and went to see what’s to-do. Found you floating. Thought you dead. So I pulled you away to see if you carried gold. That other one was fit to bust he couldn’t find you.” Again the chuckle. “He’d have found you certain if you’d been left to float. But I hauled you to this little tunnel I uses for a hidey and I’d lit no light till he was on his way. Found this,” he said, returning Jimmy’s pouch.
“Keep it. You’ve saved my life, and more. Where’s the nearest way to the street?”
The man helped Jimmy to his feet. “You will find stairs to the basement of Teech’s Tannery. It’s abandoned. It’s on the Avenue of Smells.” Jimmy nodded. The street was Collington’s Road, but all in the Poor Quarter called it the Avenue of Smells because of the tanneries, slaughterhouses, and dyers located there.
Tolly said, “You’re gone from the guild, Jimmy, but word’s come down you might be poking about here and there, so I’ll tell you the password tonight is “finch”. I don’t know who those blokes fighting you were, but I’ve seen an odd crew down here the last three days. I guess things move apace.”
Jimmy realized this simple tofsman was trusting to the higher-ups in the Mockers to deal with the intruders in his domain. “Yes, they will be dealt with in a matter of days.” Jimmy considered. “Look, there’s more than thirty gold in that pouch. Take word to Alvarny the Quick. Tell him matters are as suspected and my new master will act at once, I’m certain. Then take the gold and have some fun for a few days.”
The man fixed Jimmy with a squint, grinning his toothless grin. “Stay clear is what you’re saying? Well then, I might spend a day or two drinking up your gold. That enough?”
Jimmy said, “Yes, two days will see this business over.” As he moved toward the tunnel that would lead to his exit to the streets, he added, “One way or the other.” He looked about in the gloom and discovered he had been pulled back toward the place where he had first encountered the two Nighthawks. Pointing toward the intersection, he asked, “Is there a metal ladder nearby?”
“Three that can be used.” He indicated their locations.
“Thanks again, Tolly. Now, quickly, carry my message to Alvarny.”
The old tofsman waded away into a large tunnel, and Jimmy began his inspection of the nearest ladder. It was rusty and dangerous, as was the second, but the third was newly repaired and firmly anchored in the stones. Jimmy quickly climbed to the top and examined the trapdoor above.
It was wood and therefore part of a building floor. Jimmy considered his position relative to Teech’s Tannery. If his sense of direction wasn’t off, he was under the building he had thought likely to be the Nighthawks’ hideout. He listened at the trap for a long minute, hearing nothing.
Gently he pushed upward, peeking through the tiny crack made by the rising door. Directly before his nose was a pair of boots, crossed at the ankles. Jimmy froze. When the feet didn’t move, he pushed the trap an inch higher. The feet in the boots belonged to a nasty-looking customer who was sound asleep, a half-empty bottle clutched tightly to his chest. From the cloying odour in the room, Jimmy knew the man had been drinking paga - a potent brew, heavily spiced and laced with a perfume-sweet mild narcotic, imported from Kesh.
Jimmy chanced a quick glance about. Aside from the sleeping sentry the room was empty, but faintly heard voices came from the single door in the nearby wall.
Jimmy drew a silent breath and noiselessly emerged from the trap, avoiding touching the sleeping guard. He moved with a single step to the door and listened. The voices were faint. A tiny crack in the wooden door allowed Jimmy” to peek through.
He could see only the back of one man and the face of another. From the manner in which they were speaking, it was clear there were others in the room as well, and from the sound of movement, some number of them, perhaps a dozen. Jimmy glanced about and nodded to himself. This was the headquarters of the Nighthawks. And these men were Nighthawks, beyond doubt. Even if he hadn’t seen the ebon hawk on the man he had killed, those in the next room were nothing like the common folk of Fish Town.