Snippet #2586976

That was going to be awkward. If he had no choice about the tattooing, Eleka would never be able to come here.

"I would prefer not to wear any mark on my skin," he said, following comfortably along. To all the world, he looked perfectly at ease. "My work requires me to at least maintain the appearance of neutrality. I do hope you weren't expecting me to give up everything to serve the White-Bloods. Do you know how many knives would skewer me if I showed such explicit allegiance to any one side?"

They had come out now into the relative warmth of the room in which he had met Teones. Shaking back his cloak again, he braced himself for the common room beyond, its stink and stifling heat. It was the sort of room Eleka liked, but not Mavik. And Eleka only pretended to like it.