This is the continuation of Thieves Abroad. Previous entries can be found here
“Náhte, why is there a net on your head?”
“I needed a hat.”
“Náhte, it’s a net. It lets the sun shine through. And doesn’t keep off the mosquitoes either. Also, it smells of fish. Dead fish.”
“I know. I’m hoping fish will jump into the net and I can eat them. I’m hungry.”
Butan just sighed.
They’d been in Át?san a week now, and had, for once in their lives, honest employment. Neither of them liked it very much.
“Kagdor didn’t bring any food, did he?”
“He brought me more nets to wear. Draped them over my head when he left.”
“That was probably because he doesn’t like you. You cut up one of his nets and used it as a fishing line.”
“He wasn’t using it!”
“Náhte, we’re supposed to be repairing the nets, not breaking them.”
“Oh, is that what this job is? I thought I was just a clothes rack.”
“You just might be.”
“Do I get more money as a clothes rack?”
“No, less.”
“Then I don’t want to be a clothes rack.” Náhte thought for a moment. It was a long moment. “I don’t want to be honest any more, Butan. Honesty is kind of dull.”
“You mean there’s nobody shooting arrows at you? Or trying to sell you into slavery?”
“Exactly!”
“You want people to shoot at you.”
“I think so.…
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