Two weeks later and nothing much has turned up about the man in the mask. By now more people have seen him and heard of him, but nobody seems to know who he really is or what he's doing here. Apparently he's been busy. One thing is clear though: if he keeps going like he is, he'll catch the Watch's attention and that is enough to make Garrett steer clear of him and get his mind back on his job.

Tonight he's back in Basso's office, listening to the details of his latest job. An anonymous client wants to get their hands on one of Serendi's most recent works-a necklace. People are saying it's his best work yet and as a result, everyone wants to get their hands on it.

"Of course," Basso sighs, "that means people are willing to pay more than usual to hire guys like us. The client's willing to go as high as three hundred, and that's just upfront."

He takes it; he'd have to be stupid not to.

Basso stops him before he can leave. "One more thing. Serendi hasn't forgotten that mask you stole." He chuckles. "Either of 'em, actually. I wouldn't be surprised if he's gotten tighter security since then. Be careful tonight."

"I will."

"You'd better be. I don't wanna lose my best thief."

"You're not getting rid of me that easily." He says over his shoulder as he leaves. He can hear Basso's amused muttering through the windows as he goes.

----

Seeing Serendi's Jewellers again after so long reminds Garrett that some things never change. He climbs inside using the pipes running up and inside the shop's northern wall then decides maybe some things do.

Perched on the vents running along the ceiling, he listens to two guards banter in the shop's main area below before he moves on. Only two guards for the whole shop? It's not a very big shop and it's true this is the only room most thieves would bother looking for, with all its cases of jewelry, but still. Maybe Serendi isn't worried about thieves tonight.

Crossing the wooden beam into the next room, he stops in the little space above the room and finds Serendi and presumably a customer talking. And about the necklace, no less. Tonight is starting to feel like an apology.

"Thank you again," the customer says, shaking Lyegrove's hand. He's wearing gloves. "The Empress was very excited when she heard about your work."

His accent is a dead giveaway he's not from anywhere in or around the City. Garrett has heard people from Blackbrook and Illyria talk before. They don't sound like this man.

"Oh it's no trouble at all, Lord Attano." Lyegrove replies. "A chance to have the Empress wearing my work is reward enough. I think she'll be very pleased with my latest piece."

The man smiled. "So do I."

"It would make a fine present for any young lady, if I do say so myself."

The information sets his heart racing-and not in a good way. The Empress wants the necklace too. The voices below him fade to background noise. Is the job even worth it now? Basso likely didn't know about that part, but he'd be willing to bet the client did. That would explain the high price they were willing to pay. And why they chose to remain anonymous.

Still, three hundred upfront... How often does he, or Basso for that matter, stumble upon that kind of money? An empress would have all kinds of things to wear, part of him reasons. She'd also have more than enough guards. That's probably who Lord Attano is. But one guard is better than a squad of them.

The men below have moved on to discussing prices. His decision made, he heads down to the basement. Hopefully Lyegrove didn't change too much.

The workshop is blessedly empty and, after a quick search through the desk drawers to find a clue to the combination, so is the safe. Garrett is actually a little surprised he bothered changing the combination. It's the smart thing to do but he wasn't very impressed with Lyegrove's ability for forethought the last time he was here.

Looking at the necklace, he has to admit Lyegrove may have actually outdone himself: a lace style necklace set with small, round white diamonds and teardrop shaped blue sapphires, all held together by delicate platinum chains like a very pretty net. It certainly looks like it was made for an empress.

He shuts the safe but leaves the basement door unlocked to throw any nosy guards off his trail. When Lyegrove does open that safe, any guards coming after him will start in the wrong direction.

He climbs the stairs to the second-floor residence, after checking that Lyegrove and Lord Attano are still busy. Upstairs, the lack of guards puts him on edge until he hears Lyegrove's wife giggling in their bedroom and a voice that isn't her husband in there with her. He drops down from the window at the end of the hall and goes on his way.

Or he would have if he could shake the prickling feeling of someone watching him.

He takes the normal route through Blackfurrow as if he were going back to the Burrick, but once he gets to Clock Tower Plaza he takes a detour to the gate to Grandmauden. He checks that the street and surrounding rooftops are empty before climbing up onto a small beam jutting out of a building just outside the gate, and into the vent leading inside Montonessi's old apartment. Once again the City's bizarre architecture works in his favor.

He opens the grate on the other side easily enough and after making sure no one is waiting for him inside, he leaves through the only window. A rope hanging outside helps him cross the gap to the wooden walkway across from him. The prickling won't go away. It's beginning to feel like needles pressing into the back of his neck.

He turns to go towards the Clock Tower and bumps into a man.

There's only a split second between Garrett recognizing Lord Attano and dodging his attempt to grab him. One more and he turns and runs.

Footsteps follow, heavy but fast. He goes across the walkway onto the next roof and rounds a corner. Another open window waits ahead; candles inside burning brightly. He climbs through and doesn't waste any time inside the empty apartment. He slams the door open, heading for the wooden railing. In the same instant, boots land inside the apartment and follow him down the short wooden staircase as Garrett reaches the bit of roof past the railing.

A hand hooks him by the cloak and hauls him back, dragging him away from his exit.

"Necklace," Attano pants, one gloved hand curled into the fabric at Garrett's throat. "Now." His eyes widen. "You're the one from the wanted posters."

"Good eye," he observes. "Those posters are only plastered, what, on every other corner?"

"Don't be smart," he warns.

"One of us has to." The grip on his cloak tightens, just short of choking him.

"I won't ask again."

Three hundred gold. Three hundred gold and that's not even all of it. He's not letting go of a prize like that without a fight. He's faced off with much worse than a monarch's self-important lapdog.

"I wonder how much they'll give me for the Master Thief himself," Attano muses.

"Not enough." He replies absently, wondering if he can reach his crowbar fast enough. He wouldn't have to knock him out. He wouldn't even have to hit him. Just swing close enough to get him to let go.

All at once Attano moves forward, invading his personal space and forcing him back, closer to the edge of the roof. He only stops when Garrett is a single misstep from the edge. "The poster did say 'dead or alive', didn't it?"

His breath comes faster and shallow. He dares a look over his shoulder at the small plaza below. He can't see anything to break his fall.

"The necklace," he says, "and you can live to steal another day."

His thoughts race, taking in several things at once as he tries to think of a way out. One that doesn't involve giving up the necklace. The crowbar won't work now. He could end up toppling over the edge. Even if the fall doesn't kill him, it could be enough to break bones if he doesn't land right and he's not willing to take that chance.

His eyes land on the golden thread in Attano's coat. It's well-made and clearly not from the City. He's dressed better than any guard or captain but he clearly has some kind of training if he's been tracking him. He might not be trained to kill. He could be bluffing about dropping him. Another chance he won't take.

But Attano's offer rubs him the wrong way. Aside from not trusting the man dangling him from the rooftop, he doesn't make bargains with guards.

"I don't need help getting away from the Watch."

"Even them?"

He follows his gaze down to the plaza, as much as he can. He sees the torchlight flickering on the surrounding buildings, hears the voices. Watchmen.

"Tick-tock." He doesn't push very hard. He doesn't have to. The one nudge is enough for Garrett's heels to tip over the edge.

He's leaning back over the edge, supported only by Attano's hold on him. His heart jackrabbits in his chest. His hands come up to grab Attano's arm although there isn't much he can do to loosen his grip. He's not sure he wants him to.

Still, he refuses to let him see any uncertainty. He fixes him with a glare. "If I toss you a stick will you go away?"

"You know what I want," he says, unamused.

"Fine."

He relaxes one hand enough to reach for the pouch at his hip. He wavers. More than three hundred gold gone, just like that. But he needs this hound off his trail more than he needs money right now.

It takes every last ounce of his willpower to launch the necklace into the air. It flies up to the roof and lands somewhere out of sight with a clatter.

"Fetch."

Attano's face falls as he watches it disappear. He looks back at him with undisguised irritation and shoves him over the edge.

He braces himself on the way down, eyes squeezed shut. If he's going to fall to his death he doesn't want to see it. He expects hard stone, pain. Instead he lands on something hard but decidedly not stone with a soft whump. Something soft enough to break his fall but sharp enough to scratch his hands when he lands. He opens his eyes.

A hay cart.

He threw him in a hay cart.

He glances up and sees Attano looking down at him from the rooftop. He waves and disappears back over the edge.

"Who's that!"

No time to wonder why. He jumps out of the cart and races past the Watchmen towards Clock Tower Plaza. The rooftops are off-limits for now, at least while his friend is still prowling around. But he can still lose the Watchmen in the shadows and alleys along the way.

He picks his way back to the Burrick, eyeing the rooftops and plucking hay out of his clothing while he waits for the Watch patrols to wander by. He clears his throat when he enters.

Basso looks up from his writing. He sets his pen down and folds his hands together. "Uh... what happened?"

He drops a piece of hay on the floor. "The Empress's bloodhound found me."

"Wh-" he sighs and leans back in his chair. "What did they want?"

"Serendi's latest piece? A gift for the Empress." He yanks his hood down and runs his hands through his hair to dislodge any hay. "And the client already knew."

"Bastard." He scoffs at the ground, shaking his head. He looks back to Garrett. "No necklace, I suppose?"

"No. But I will be paying the client a visit and taking what he owes." He'll also be getting some payback the next time he sees Lord Attano. But he doesn't tell Basso that.

"Fair's fair." He chuckles, watching him pluck more hay from his gear. "Call it a night, Garrett," he tells him. "Clean up, get some rest."

"Alright." Rest doesn't sound so bad right now. "But first, what do you know about a Lord Attano?"

He sits up again. "That his name?"

"Mm-hm."

He sighs and shakes his head, but he's smiling. "You got me workin' double-time, Garrett."

"I've been busy making friends."

"Yeah? Now go get some rest. I'm sure I can find something about Lord Attano in the meantime."

"Alright, alright." He turns to leave, pulling his hood back up and picking more hay from his harness and muttering, "I could make a scarecrow with all this..." on his way out.