The gentleman in the blue velvet tunic slowly pushed open the low door of unpainted wood and peered into the smoky dimness beyond. "What do you want here?" demanded a voice from near at hand. "Er … I've come by the Thieves' Highway," the gentleman said, almost questioningly. "What of it?" "I … I was told to say that, and also 'Tonight flies the Father of Owls.'" The gentleman's fine lips curved in a tentative smile. "That's all right, isn't it?" The nearby voice gave a noncommittal grunt, then said, "Your business?" "I wish to speak to … to the Red Asp." "How important?"