Gazen snorted. "Sorry. I only deal in land and household slaves."

"And mercenaries," Uncle Virge reminded him. "Brummgan soldiers for hire."

There was another short pause. "So, which merc group are you connected with?"

Gazen asked.

"None of them," Uncle Virge said. "But it occurred to me that a man who deals in hired guns might also be able to find a home for a boy of Jack McCoy's skills." "A boy?"

"Only fourteen, but already one of the best in the business," Uncle Virge boasted. "I trained him myself."

"And you are the best, I suppose?" Gazen said sarcastically.

"Of course."

For a moment the line was silent. Jack kept walking, staring out into the crisscross of muted streetlights marking his way. Gazen was hovering over the bait, eyeing it and wondering if it was worth a taste. If he decided it was, they were in.

If he decided it wasn't, Jack was going to be toast. Jelly side down.

"And I'm supposed to take your word for all this," Gazen said at last.

"Not at all," Uncle Virge assured him. "I've arranged a demonstration."

"Really. What sort?"

"Your chief gatekeeper has a house across from the Chookoock estate," Uncle Virge explained. "I've sent Jack to burgle it."

"And what exactly did he steal?"

"Nothing, yet," Uncle Virge said. "I assumed you'd want to watch him in action before we discussed price."

"If he's as good as you say, why are you dumping him?"

"Because he's getting too old for what I need," Uncle Virge said. "I like to work against people's assumptions. You see a ten-year-old kid walk into a millionaire's mansion, you don't expect him to be casing the place. By the time he hits fifteen, though, people start paying attention."

"So you've decided to sell him?"

"Like you, I'm a businessman," Uncle Virge said. "I spent a lot of time and effort training this kid. Why not get all I can out of my investment?"