"Thanks," Nikto thought for a moment, "Lis."

Lis laughed. "Aren"t you happy? I did my best."

"Oh yes. There was no other place, was there?"

"Well, you"ll just have to stay away from your Unclean bitch for a couple weeks," Lis shrugged, "big deal."

Nikto gave him a glance but kept quiet. He was picking up his bracelets from the floor and habitually locking them on his arms with a soft click. When he reached for one of the bracelets behind the post, his long blonde hair fell on the side, baring his back that was completely covered in lash scars.

Friends looked at each other.

"One cool back you have," Lis said.

"Ah, so that"s what you wanted to see," Nikto said. "Stripped me, looked at my scars? And now do you let me go because you see I"m a warrior like you?"

"Sit down," Orel said.

Nikto sat down at the table and finished his wine. Tol gave him a cigarette. Nikto glanced at him.

"Thank you." He smoked, leaning against the tall back of the chair. His hand with a missing finger pushed away his hair, revealing the scar crossing his forehead. He examined Tol, Lis, Orel and Enriki with sharp eyes.

"It is not long till the morning," Orel said. "The gates will be open soon, and you will be able to leave the Upper City."

"And what about your job?" Nikto smiled wryly. The disfigured side of his face didn"t move.

"Not the first problem of ours. And not the last one," Orel answered. "Not your concern, too."

"You"re not so stupid as you seemed at first," Nikto said.

"All right, don"t try to play smart," Lis interfered. "We"re letting you go – be happy."

Nikto shook his head.

"I am." He walked up to his bag on the floor, picked up his cloak.

"You"ve ruined my cloak." He looked around. "And what about my mask?"

"Mask?"