The lamplight reflected like tiny sparks in Zhavi's eyes. They looked black in the dim light; dark mirrors reflecting Jager as she watched him. One arm draped over the back of her chair, she was suddenly contemplative while she sat rocking back and forth. One of the legs of her chair was shorter than the other three, and the thock thock, thock thock of it was her only reply to his immediate question.
"Ye want information," she said, slow and considering. She was settling down; gravity had remembered her existence and was pulling her back. It was inexorable. "Then I'll take ye on one o' me jobs. Th'brothels are fightin'. Looks t'be right nasty, it does."
She pulled up her knees, put a foot on the table, and pushed her chair back onto its rear two legs. "That'll get ye started."
"Ye want information," she said, slow and considering. She was settling down; gravity had remembered her existence and was pulling her back. It was inexorable. "Then I'll take ye on one o' me jobs. Th'brothels are fightin'. Looks t'be right nasty, it does."
She pulled up her knees, put a foot on the table, and pushed her chair back onto its rear two legs. "That'll get ye started."
