"That's criminal," Galt said, apparently unable or unwilling to see the irony in the statement. He snatched back the golden chain of the amulet, running the attractive noose through his fingers, wounding it around his palm. The fence, a tall man by the name of Warde, shook his wild head of hair in a mixture of consternation and resignation. The gall on this man had Galt fuming. He should have realized a fence bereft of the guild was a bad idea, but Aldahan had told him he might fetch a better price in more competitive markets. 

"Only if the jewel is real, and it's not." Warde replied. 

They were in a small den, almost a cubby within a cantina down the street from the Daybreak tavern. The only barrier between them and a raucous crowd was a small curtain. The wooden desk between them was old and in disrepair. Galt was afraid to put his weight on it lest it collapse quicker than his patience. The man was good. He hid his smile well, the glint in his eyes was muted, and he even kept his arms crossed. But Galt knew he was trying to be played. 

"It is real, and you'll give me a good price for it. Ten thousand crowns or I leave." Galt warned. 

"I have seen gem after gem in my time, boy, and that's not a real one." Warde assured him derisively. "What makes you so sure it is?" 

"Fake gems are not guarded by six armed men behind a locked vault." Galt quipped.

"Could have been a ruse; a distraction." Warde reasoned. Galt bet if he asked Warde to explain why it was fake, he would say he need not explain such trivial things to him. 

"I'm the one who makes distractions, I do not fall for them." The thief reiterated.

"If that's true, then how come you've fallen for the Guild's scheme to distract you with petty theft rather than help you ascend to lieutenant?" Warde said, cutting Galt to the quick. It was a misleading statement, of course. Galt knew full well what the guild was doing, but he had little choice but to fight the decisions through less direct means. But it was still enough to have Galt put the amulet back in his pocket and turn. 

"Thanks Warde, you were a great help. May your business be honest." He said by way of a farewell, which was as insulting as one could get in their life. Galt pulled the curtain back and shouldered past a drunken patron stumbling his way back to his table.  A woman carrying a tray high up above her shoulder turned suddenly, Galt leaning backwards even as his feet continued forward to duck under the iron tray and the half a dozen drinks atop it. Slinking through the crowd, he stepped out into the slowly lightening street, shielding his eyes from the rising sun. He heard a distant yell, and a woman's scream. A few heads turned and a handful of people were running across the street. 

He blinked, and lithe woman nearly leaped into him. On instinct, Galt ducked and rolled as the woman flipped over him, both landing in a steady crouch, the dust on the street puffing from the sudden scrape of their feet. Once again, he was impressed with her acrobatic skills.

"You!" Kashvi exclaimed, her cheeks reddened from some unknown physical stress.

"Kash?" He asked aloud. He vaguely recalled she had told him not to use that name, but he was too surprised to really think on that at the moment. "What in the hells are you doing?"