Стража! Стража!

           "Iwonderwhat’sthedifferencebetweenordinarycouncillorsandprivycouncillors?"wonderedthemerchantaloud.

           Theassassinscowledathim."Ithink,"hesaid,"itisbecauseyou’reexpectedtoeatshit."

           Heturnedtheglarebackonhisfeetagain.WhatkeptgoingthroughhismindwereWonse’slastwords,asheshookthesecretary’slimphand.Hewonderedifanyoneelsehadheardthem.Unlikely...they’dbeenashaperatherthanasound.Wonsehadsimplymovedhislipsaroundthemwhilestaringfixedlyattheassassin’smoon-tannedface.

           Help.Me.

           Theassassinshivered.Whyhim?Asfarashecouldseetherewasonlyonekindofhelphewasqualifiedtogive,andveryfewpeopleeveraskedforitforthemselves.Infact,theyusuallypaidlargesumsforittobegivenasasurprisepresenttootherpeople.HewonderedwhatwashappeningtoWonsethatmadeanyalternativeseembetter...

           Wonsesataloneinthedark,ruinedhall.Waiting.

           Hecouldtryrunning.Butit’dfindhimagain.It’dalwaysbeabletofindhim.Itcouldsmellhismind.

           Oritwouldflamehim.Thatwasworse.JustliketheBrethren.Perhapsitwasaninstantaneousdeath,itlookedaninstantaneousdeath,butWonselayawakeatnightwonderingwhetherthoselastmicro-secondssomehowstretchedtoasubjective,white-hoteternity,everytinypartofyourbodyameresmearofplasmaandyou,there,aliveinthemiddleofitall...

           Notyou.Iwouldnotflameyou.

           Itwasn’ttelepathy.AsfarasWonsehadalwaysunderstoodit,telepathywaslikehearingavoiceinyourhead.