I resisted the urge to sigh. “Nikolas Ekinze. The same as it was yesterday.” The tasking master looked up. “That cheeky mouth of yours won’t get you work, boy. Still looking for locksmithing work?” “Any metal working, or jewellery, silversmithing.” Same thing I’ve told the man every day for three weeks. “Hmmm. Nothing along those lines.” What a surprise. “Won’t work in the mines?” “Not unless I’m actually starving to death, no.” I was pretty near the end of my funds, but the mines would mean a short and unpleasant life for someone of my height and build. “But I’ll do anything else.” “There is nothing else, boy. We’ve got locksmiths and metal workers coming out of our ears. Every journeyman tinsmith, silversmith and clockmaker from Jendon is here in Egin. We can take our pick.” He looked me up and down. “If you had a bit more flesh on you, there’s a stable wanting someone to shift shit. But you’d pass out in half a day.” “I can do it,”
