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Street of Gods. I looked really hard, trying to find just one, but all I found were supernatural Beings with
no love for the God Squad."
She broke off as the door opened, and Tomb and Buchan came in bearing trays of cold food. For
various reasons no one had much to say while they ate, so the meal passed for the most part in silence.
Rowan just picked at her food, pushing it back and forth on her plate, and finally she put it to one side
and quietly announced she was going back to bed and didn't want to be disturbed. Everyone nodded,
and Tomb wished her good night. She left the room without answering, shutting the door firmly behind
her. The others finished their food, and sat for a while in silence, thinking their separate thoughts.
"You mustn't mind Rowan," said Tomb finally, to Hawk and Fisher. "It's just her way. She'll be a lot
better once she's had a little rest."
"Sure," said Hawk. "We understand."
"Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to be going out again." Tomb pushed his empty plate to one side and
stood up.
"Already?" said Fisher. "We only just finished putting down that riot and clearing up after the Hellfire
Club. What else is there that needs doing?"
Tomb smiled. "Nothing for you to worry about, Captain. This is just some old personal business that I
have to attend to. I won't be long. I'll see you again, later."
He nodded generally to them all, and left. The door was still closing when Buchan got to his feet.
"Afraid I must be off as well. Tomb isn't the only one who's had to neglect his personal life of late. I'll be
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back in an hour or two. If you have to go out as well, don't worry about Rowan. There are wards around
the house to keep her safe and alert Tomb if she needs anything. Now I really must be going."
And as quickly as that, he was gone. Hawk and Fisher looked at each other. "I'll follow Tomb," said
Hawk. "You follow Buchan. Right?"
"Right," said Fisher. "There are too many secrets around here for my liking. You know, those have to be
two of the flimsiest excuses I've ever heard."
"I get the feeling they're both under pressure," said Hawk. "And I don't just mean the trouble on the
Street. They probably intended to go out a lot earlier, but got sidetracked by the riot and the Hellfire
Club. Right. They've had enough time to get a good start by now. Let's go."
They got to their feet and hurried out into the corridor. Hawk spotted one of Tomb's long hooded robes
hanging on a wall hook, and slipped it on instead of his own distinctive Guard's cloak. With the hood
pulled well forward, he looked like just another priest. He glanced at Fisher.
"Maybe you should try a disguise, too."
Fisher shook her head. "Six-foot muscular blond women tend to stand out in a crowd, no matter what
they're wearing. I'll just have to be careful, that's all. It's dark out, so as long as I keep well back and
stick to the shadows, I should be all right. I'll meet you two hours from now at the Dead Dog tavern. Our
usual booth. Sound good to you?"
"Great," said Hawk. "Maybe now we'll get a break on this case, and find a motive that makes sense.
The way things are going, I'd settle for a motive that doesn't make sense. Now let's move it, before we
lose them."
Hawk had no trouble locating Tomb. The sorcerer was striding down the Street of Gods at a pace that
kept threatening to break into a run. People saw the scowl on his face and got out of his way fast. Hawk
strode along after him, not even trying to be inconspicuous. Even at this late hour of the evening there
were crowds of priests and acolytes and worshippers bustling back and forth, getting on with the
business of life that the riot had only briefly interrupted. Hawk was just another robed figure among
many. Not that Tomb would have noticed anyway. He shouldered his way through the crowd with utter
indifference to the snarls and curses this earned him, apparently entirely preoccupied with wherever he
was going. Hawk had been banking on that. If Tomb even suspected he was being followed, he would
undoubtedly have any number of spells to deal with the situation, few if any of them pleasant.
Tomb strode on, ignoring the manifestations that haunted the sidewalks and alleyways. Hawk did his
best to do the same, but was momentarily thrown when an acolyte in a cheap crimson robe stepped
directly in front of him to beg for a blessing. Hawk put a hand on the acolyte's shaven head, muttered
something about peace and joy and brotherhood, and hurried after Tomb, hoping fervently that he hadn't
inadvertently invoked a nearby Being by accident. You had to be careful what you said on the Street of
Gods. You could never be sure who was listening.
He followed Tomb down into the low-rent section of the Street of Gods, where the twisting back streets
and alleyways turned in upon themselves, offering sanctuary to Beings and beliefs who had fallen on hard
times. A last harbor for forgotten Gods and fading philosophies. Hawk hung well back as Tomb
approached a nondescript, weather-beaten door set into a dirty white wall. The sorcerer produced a
heavy iron key from a hidden pocket and unlocked the large iron padlock. The door creaked open under
his hand, and he disappeared inside, pulling the door shut behind him.
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Hawk quickly took up a position in a shadowed doorway overlooking the street, in case this was only a
way stop and the sorcerer might reappear unexpectedly. Long moments passed. No one moved in the
narrow back street. Hawk bit his lip, scowling thoughtfully. What the hell was Tomb doing here? It
couldn't be anything illegal; the sorcerer had made no attempt to disguise his appearance. But what was
so important to Tomb that it could drag him down here at this time of the night, when he was clearly
already exhausted from coping with the riot? Hawk left his hiding place and padded silently over to the
shabby door. He listened carefully, but everything seemed quiet within. He tried the door handle and
raised an eyebrow as it turned easily under his hand, and the door swung open. Hawk froze as the door
hinges creaked softly, but no one came to investigate. He slipped inside and eased the door shut behind
him.
The narrow hallway was lit by a single lamp on the wall. Hawk tested the glass with his fingertips. It was
barely warm. Tomb must have lit the lamp when he came in, which suggested there was no one here but
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