Losing a tail

James watched everything like a hawk, while somehow still managing to appear inconspicuous to any ordinary observer. Of course Gray couldn't make his life any easier.

He'd noticed the spies as soon as he'd left the mansion. He'd made sure no one knew the time he was set to depart, and he'd also worked on his hair.

He hadn't turned it black. No, black hair would have attracted way too much attention. For some reason, James Halden owned a couple of very ordinary looking shirts and breeches. Things that a favoured noble's servant could look good in but definitely not the son of a Duke.

He'd decided to turn his hair an ordinary brown, because it'd stand out less than his usual white and the less than common black. It wasn't really a problem hiding his eyes. He just had to slouch and not look people directly in the eye. So he had to pretend subservience.

There was a spy in the Duke's manor good enough to not be fooled by James' professionally crafted disguise. Of course there was, and James had already been watching them. First though, he'd have to lose his tail.

He tracked the sun's position atop the earth. He hadn't had time to get his pocket watch from the manor magician, but he supposed it was just about midday.

'So, Jason and his folks are already here. I have to be careful not to run into him.'

Not that either of them would recognize each other if they met. Jason had been described earlier on in the book as having a distinctly ordinary appearance.

Like he had ordinary brown hair, light green eyes that were hard to notice unless you were standing next to him, and an average sized body. He hadn't even received the scar on his cheek from battling a group of terrorists in the capital yet.

'Now that I think about it, wasn't that battle why the guy got invited into the academy in the first place?'

James entered a tea shop. His last looks to study the spies surrounding him more than innocent scans of the bustling crowd. None of the three spies suspected a thing.

If he were them, now would be one of those times they had to surround the building from all sides. But there were only three. They could only see so much. Besides, James was pretty sure these guys underestimated him.

Big mistake. He might be lazy, but he'd had a life time to master skills to disappear in plain day light. The fat man behind the counter beamed as he scanned his newest customer.

'Wait, fat man behind a counter?! Tea shop?'

James scanned the empty dining area. Empty, that is, save for a family of three seated at a far corner. The mother and son seemed to be quiet and subdued, but the father's boisterous voice more than covered up for them. James swallowed. He'd just entered the dining swan.

'If bad luck were a person,' he thought dejectedly.

The boy sitting with his back to the counter did not turn around, though, for which James was more than a little thankful. He moved to the counter mechanically.

"How can I help you young man? Why, you look like you've seen a ghost...Oh, what's this?"

For James had just dropped a gold coin on the counter.

"Give me a room on the highest floor, and don't disturb me at all."

"Since we mostly serve as a tea house, our rooms cost a tad more than regular inns."

"I'm sure that can suffice for one day of rest."

The man stared uncomprehendingly from coin to giver. Then he stared at James intently, trying to puzzle something out. James didn't give him a chance to come up with any theories.

"I guess I'll just wait for my key on the landing."

"No! Wait sir. I can't take this much change."

'Damn it!' The fat gizzard's out burst had attracted the attention of his only customers. James had to try his best not to turn right around and study his new adversary in turn.

James kept his gait as unremarkable as possible. His shoulders, tense as they were kept slouched, and there was a tilt to his neck that kept his face hidden, a sign of little to no confidence. He had to get out of here fast.

***************

"That is one good actor, that is," the man who'd been speaking boisterously before said in a calm tone as he and his family watched the young man ascend the stairs.

"You noticed too?" his son asked, surprised.

"Don't forget who it is as trained you in the sword since you was a child, boy."

The boy just snorted. But his gaze lingered on the stairs even after the other boy had disappeared from sight. Hadn't he said he would be coming back. The boy was now resolute to meet this person.

He hadn't thought to meet such an interesting individual in this backwater town claiming to be a city. It might have been better than the village he'd grown up in, but everything he'd seen since reincarnating in this world had been disappointing compared to the oppulence of earth. At least they had magic, so that was that.

**********

James stood with his body ram rod straight on the wall, trying to peer out the window without being seen. As he'd suspected, the spies had somehow already found out which room he'd booked. They were all positioned to stare straight into the room now.

Fools! Why was no one covering the other sides of the building? He wanted to go and shout at them. To tell them to take the job seriously. To remind them of some of the basics of spy craft. Never underestimate your mark, no matter how well you think you know them.

It was often the simplest characters as gave the most experienced of investigators trouble. Whatever. The fools would learn today. Or maybe they might not, considering he didn't plan to let them figure out he'd left at all.

He heard the tale-tale sign of an approach from the direction of the stairs, and knew the fat man was here. He'd managed to convince James to get a cup of coffee and any other service to cover the gold coin he'd already spent.

James had to quietly sneak into his bed, making sure none of his observers suspected a thing.

The door swung open. The fat man bustled in with a tray containing a lot more than the promised coffee.

"Why are your curtains so light? I won't be able to relax with all this light coming in."

"Im very sorry, sir. Maybe I can move the wind screen a little to the left..."

James made a show of complaining and cursing the proprietor as the man set off to partially block the view from the window.

"Leave the door open a crack, won't you?"

"But sir...?"

"I said I want to be alone. Leave now!" he demanded.

The man, much older than James was, swallowed and produced a look so nervous it had James snickering like a hyena, although only internally.

James watched the man scurry out, take the stairs as fast as his short legs could take him to get away from this monster of a customer.

It wasn't that James looked scary or anything. It was only that messing with a rich person, especially one who'd suddenly gained the air of a noble the moment he'd been out of sight of the other customers must have been daunting for him.

Not that James felt any sort of mercy for a man who would one day sell information and a whole lot of things to the hero and his party.

In fact, he felt like the man had been acting an elaborate role during their whole conversation. He put the porcine specimen out of his mind. It was time to go treasure hunting.

With any luck, the cracked door was fully covered from the sight of the spies by the wind shield. He need only press through that thin crack to avoid any and all suspicions.

Luckily, James' habits over the past few months had left him no more than a bony sketch. He did jostle the door a bit, but that was unavoidable. With any hope the slight swelling wouldn't be enough to set off any alarm bells.

He didn't wait to find out. Even if they did realise he was gone, he needed the headstart. It wasn't like he was scared of anyone finding out about his witch gifts or whatever. It was just that he rather no one knew about them until it could not be helped at all.

He wished James had taken the time to learn even one darkness attribute spell. Then James would have made a much smoother get away. His less than graceful climb out of a third storey window luckily didn't draw any attention. He'd picked his escape route well.

But something was very wrong with these watchdogs they'd sent him. 'How come none of those incompetents thought to watch the abandoned back alley? Amateurs.'

He did not feel any eyes on him as he passed the city gates.