Guards of Haven: The Adventures of Hawk and Fisher (Hawk & Fisher) Read Free Page A

someone wake up Hawk.”
    There was general laughter as the Captains dispersed, and Fisher dragged Hawk towards the door, Hawk protesting innocently that he’d heard every word. He broke off as they left the squadroom, and Fisher headed for the Armoury.
    “Isobel, where are you going?”
    “The Armoury. To hand in the suppressor stone.”
    “Forget it,” said Hawk. “I’m not giving that up. It’s the only protection we’ve got against hostile magic.”
    Fisher looked at him. “You heard Dubois; the damned things are dangerous. I’m not having my hand blown off, just so you can feel a bit more secure.”
    “All right then, I’ll carry it.”
    “No you won’t. I don’t trust you with gadgets.”
    “Well, one of us has to have it. Or the next rogue magician we run into is going to hand us our heads. Probably literally.”
    Fisher sighed, and nodded reluctantly. “All right, but we only use the thing in emergencies. Agreed?”
    “Agreed.”
    They strode unhurriedly through the narrow Headquarters corridors and out onto the crowded street. Just a few weeks ago there’d been snow and slush everywhere, but the city’s weather wizards had finally got their act together and deflected the worst of the weather away from Haven, sending it out over the ocean. This wasn’t making them too popular with passing merchant ships, but no one in Haven cared what they thought.
    Not that the weather wizards had done anything more than buy Haven a few extra weeks, a month at most. Once the real winter storms started there was nothing anyone could do but nail up the shutters, stoke up the fire, and pray for spring. But for the moment the sky was clear, and the chilly air was no worse than an average autumn day. Hawk turned up his nose at the bracing air and pulled his cloak tightly around him. He didn’t like cloaks as a rule, they got in the way during fights, but he liked the cold even less. The weather in the Low Kingdoms was generally colder and harsher than in his homeland in the North, and it was during fall and winter that he missed the Forest Kingdom most of all. He smiled sourly as he looked out over the slumped buildings and grubby streets. He was a long way from home.
    “You’re thinking about the Forest again, aren’t you?” said Fisher.
    “Yeah.”
    “Don’t. We can’t go back.”
    “We might. Some day.”
    Fisher looked at him. “Sure,” she said finally. “Some day.”
    They strode down the packed street, the crowd giving way before them. There were a lot of people about for the time of night, but with winter so close, everyone was desperate to get as much done as they could before the storms descended and the streets became impassable. Hawk and Fisher smiled and nodded to familiar faces, and slowly made their way into the Northside, their beat and one of the worst areas in Haven. You could buy or sell anything there; every dirty little trade, every shape and form of evil and corruption grew and flourished in the dark and grimy streets of the Northside. Hawk and Fisher, who had worked the area for over five years, had grown blasé and hardened despite themselves. Yet every day the Northside came up with new things to shock them. They tried hard not to let it get to them.
    They made a tour of all the usual dives, looking for word on the spy Fenris, but to a man everyone they talked to swore blind they’d never even heard of the fellow. Hawk and Fisher took turns smashing up furniture and glaring up close at those they questioned, but not even their reputations could scare up any information. Which meant that either the spy had gone to ground so thoroughly that no one knew where he was, or his masters were paying out a small fortune in bribes to keep people’s mouths shut. Probably the former. There was always someone in the Northside who’d talk.
    They left the Inn of the Black Freighter till last. It was a semirespectable tavern and restaurant right on the outer edge of the Northside; the kind of