Kevrik was drinking when a dapper looking stranger appeared at his table.
“The Blind Man wants to see you.” The well-dressed man’s calm dry voice made Kevrik imagine thousands of burning pages. With long delicate fingers, the man drew back a stool and took to the edge, perching like a bird.
An agent of the Blind Man could only mean trouble but Kevrik had a reputation to maintain.
“I suspect the Blind Man wants to see a lot of people.” Kevrik chuckled. He was one of few that tried to find humor in the city which made him stand out.
“Your wit has been noted.” The slender-fingered man tapped his fingertips together in a curious rhythm, similar to the way a banker handled an abacus. “Are you going to follow me or should I put your name up in the Square of Debts?”
Kevrik considered his options before sliding his glass of sweem away from him. “Sure, I’ll come. I don’t want every creep with a licorice addiction putting their mitts on my hard-earned finery.” He tugged his coat down for emphasis.