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[lectorisalutem]

At sunset, the market shifted character as sure as the colors changed in the sky. The scullery maids and peasant women cleared out to make room for those that sought out the night's company or had no choice but to tolerate it. At every corner there was a table and a fleecer peddling some game of chance or another. The stalls were full of mealy

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[sunsinge]

Gulliver's gold had afforded him brief luxury. He'd left, as promised... but no further than a few city blocks, content in the knowledge that the Adept left his rooms so rarely he was never bound to notice.

He was with four other young men that night, all half-drunk and ready to piss away the money in their pockets on cards and whores. The group of them stopped in front of the shell game, Amadius with a long cigarette in his mouth, the rest with cups held to their chest.

"Blow that shit somewhere else," one of them laughed, waving a hand in front of Amadius' cigarette, and he blew a cloud in their face in response with a grin.

"Can't see the bloody cups--"

"You'd lose anyway," snickered another, jostling the first boy to an indignant shout. Amadius, for his part, watched the cups, only giving a soft, distracted laugh when his friends pushed and elbowed around him. That the Adept stood not a foot away from him didn't register; he couldn't (and wouldn't have) bet on that"The left," he said, and set a coin down on the table. The

[lectorisalutem]

He'd noticed Amadius as soon as he'd pulled up to the booth, his expression impassive as he stared at him. Of course he hadn't left town- Gulliver should have known better than to expect Amadius to consider anything he said worth minding. The adept took a long breath, pinching his narrow features in a superior glare as he cleared his throat.

"He is a cheat," he said, "I've seen him in the company of this man," he indicated the individual running the shell game, "Many times before."

Gulliver stepped out of the way of any potential commotion, satisfied in having exposed his former neighbor. Well, almost satisfied. He'd also like very much to see the other paying customers give Amadius his just desserts.

[sunsinge]

Amadius turned to look at his accuser, eyes already narrowing, and froze when his stare fell on Gulliver. What was he doing here? An Adept had no business at the tables, nor in the market after dark. He heard a hum of mutters around him, felt the angry stares of the other customers, and glanced around. His friends looked puzzled. The rest were angry. "Keep it," he snapped, flicking the stack of coins the proprietor had pushed towards him away. The clatter as they fell to the stones was enough to distract the crowd; he slipped through them as they lunged for it, after the Adept.

He grabbed roughly at Gulliver's shoulder to turn him around when he reached him, eyes blazing. "Are you determined to ruin me at every opportunity, or was that just chance?" he spat. Had the man sought him out? Scoured the city to be sure he'd left? He'd thought he was rid of him, him and his prophecy both, but here Gulliver stood in front of him.

[lectorisalutem]

"Masterfully handled," he muttered as Amadius dragged him away from the crowd, "It's almost as if you've been accused of this sort of thing before."

Gulliver kept his eyes on the alley before him, on the peddlers and beggars and not the man who'd taken the last of his money with a broken promise. "Just chance, I'd say. As I had been convinced that you'd honored your word and taken my money and left Venice." Despite himself, his temper caused his temperature to rise. Hopefully Amadius would recognize the warning sign and take his hand off him.