Low Town Read Online Free PDF Page A

wasn’t happy to have my suspicions confirmed. “The boy from last night has been waiting for you to wake up for the past three hours.”
    “Is there any coffee at least? And where is my shadow exactly?”
    “There is none, and he’s in the corner.” I turned to see the youth uncurl from a wall. He had an odd talent for remaining unnoticed, or maybe my hangover was worse than I’d thought.
    We looked at each other in silence, some natural reserve keeping him from beginning. “I didn’t idle half the morning away in front of your door,” I said. “What do you want?”
    “A job.”
    He was direct, at least, and concise—that was something. My head was pounding and I was trying to figure out where my breakfast would come from. “And what possible use could you be to me?”
    “I could do things for you. Like last night.”
    “I don’t know how often you think I stumble over the corpses of missing children, but last night was kind of a rare occurrence. I don’t think I can justify a full-time employee waiting around for it to happen again.” This objection seemed to do little to sway him. “What is it you think I do exactly?”
    He smiled slyly, like he’d done something wrong and was happy to let me know it. “You run Low Town.”
    And what a lovely fiefdom it was. “The guards might dispute that.”
    He snorted. It was worth snorting over.
    “I had a long night. I’m not in the mood for this nonsense. Get lost.”
    “I can run errands, deliver messages, whatever you need. I know the streets like the back of my hand. I can tussle, and nobody sees me that I don’t want to.”
    “This is a one-man operation. And if I was to bring on an assistant, my first requirement would be that his balls had dropped.”
    The abuse did little to faze him. No doubt he’d heard far worse. “I came through yesterday, didn’t I?”
    “Yesterday you walked six blocks and didn’t fuck me. I could train a dog to do the same thing, and I wouldn’t need to pay him.”
    “Give me something else, then.”
    “I’ll give you a beating if you don’t scramble,” I said, raising my hand in something meant to resemble a menacing gesture.
    To judge by his lack of reaction, he was unimpressed with thethreat. “By the Lost One, you’re a tiresome little bastard.” The walk downstairs had reawakened the fierce pain in my ankle, and all this conversation was upsetting my stomach. I fished into my pocket and brought out an argent. “Run over to the marketplace and get me two blood oranges, a dish of apricots, a ball of twine, a coin purse, and a pruning knife. And if I don’t get half of it back in change, I’ll know you’re either a cheat or too stupid to haggle a fair price.”
    He hurried off with a speed that made me wonder if he would remember everything. Something about the boy made me unlikely to bet against him. I turned back around and waited for breakfast to arrive, but found myself distracted by the scowl atop Adolphus’s girth.
    “You have something to say?”
    “I didn’t know you were so desperate for a partner.”
    “What did you want me to do, clip him?” I rubbed slow circles into my temple with my middle and forefingers. “Any news?”
    “They’re having a funeral for Tara outside the Church of Prachetas in a few hours. Don’t suppose you’ll attend?”
    “You don’t suppose correctly. Anything else making the rounds?”
    “Word has spread of your encounter with Harelip, if that’s what you’re asking.”
    “It was.”
    “Well, it has.”
    It was about then that my brain decided the time had come to free itself from its long years of imprisonment, and began a furious if unproductive effort to batter through its casing. From the back Adeline noticed my agony and set a pot of coffee boiling.
    I was nursing the second cup, dark and sweet, when the boy returned. He set the bag of goods on the counter and put the change next to it.
    “There are seven coppers left,” I said. “What did you