by Glen Cook
I didn’t want to believe in the thing, but people and dwarves were dropping like flies. We were playing morCartha down here on the ground. I was caught in it, like it or not. Somebody wanted me to join the flies.
Dean brought beer and a stern look I asked, “Where’s Carla Lindo?”
“Guest room. Worrying.” He assumed his human roadblock stance. “She doesn’t need comforting. She needs help.”
“Yeah. Sure. So do I You don’t see me getting any. Hell. I’m done waiting for it to come to me. I’ll go round it up.” I drained another mug of courage, checked my portable arsenal, headed for the door. Dean trotted along behind grinning like an old death’s-head.
His romantic notions would be the death of me yet.
I’m immune to romantic notions, of course I’m a block of heavy metal unshakably planted at the center of a plain of common sense, illuminated by the sun of reason.
Right Look up. See the swarms of pigs flying south for the winter?
I hadn’t been inside, isolated from the city ambience, for long, but something had changed. Some new level of tension had been reached. There were fewer people out. Those who were seemed nervous. I could see no real reason.
I visited Morley’s place but found no Morley. I went away puzzled, headed for Saucerhead’s shabby den.
Tharpe was out, too. Not one of his mouse-size lady friends was there to clue me where he’d gone, either. ‘Twas a puzzlement.
I went away frowning. Something had to be going on. Especially with Morley. He faded from sight sometimes, but I’d never known him to take his whole crew with him. There’d always been some way to get in touch.
I headed for home.
I got the news from a neighbor moments before I reached the house.
“Big roughhouse in the Cantard, Old Bones,” I told the Dead Man. “Word’s just in All mixed up. Sounds like our troops and the Venageti caught up with Mooncalled at the same time, some place called Broken Back Canyon. No word how it came out yet, though.” All the neighbor knew was that the battle had been all-time big. I assumed the northbound dispatches had been sent immediately on contact. The mere catching of Mooncalled was news of major importance.
I suspected as much. To yield vibrational energies I can detect here . . . It must be the battle of battles and still going on I would not have expected Mooncalled to be capable of so violent a defense.
“Cornered rats But Mooncalled always did the unexpected.
Perhaps. Let us not concern ourselves overmuch before more coherent information arrives. I sense that you are troubled.
“What a genius. Amazing how you figure things out.” I told him about my day, such as it was so far.
Go eat. Let me think.
I did that, without a squabble I was that down, feeling that inadequate.
“He’s had an hour,” I told Dean, who was thoroughly sick of me hanging around the kitchen. “That ought to be long enough for even a genius.” Stomach full, now optimistic enough to have put aside thoughts of suicide, I hit the hallway.
Carla Lindo stepped out of the Dead Man’s room. She carried a broom and dustpan. I stopped to gape. Behind me, Dean started apologizing “She wanted to do something, Mr. Garrett. And he doesn’t bother her.”
“Fine.” No broom ever took my breath away. No. She’d Just turned my spine to jelly with a look that should have gotten the fire bells sounding all over town.
I grabbed myself by the collar and dragged me into the Dead Man’s room before I soaked the carpet with drool.
She is attractive, is she not?
“Huh? You too?” We lived in an age of wonders indeed. The millennium was at hand. He never said anything nice about persons of the opposite sex. But maybe Carla Lindo was opposite enough to touch even the dead.
You have something to report?
“Huh?”
Report it may help you avoid hyperventilation.
“I already told you everything.”
Oh. So you did.
Somebody started pounding on the front door. The Dead Man didn’t appear interested. I ignored it. Whoever might go away. It was time to uncomplicate my life.
I have been thinking, Garrett.
“Hey, that’s great I’m glad to hear it. Especially since that’s what you get paid for.”
Garrett! Time is of the essence.
“So quit wasting it. I’ve only got maybe thirty years left.”
I have been mulling this Book of Dreams. it occurs to me that Chodo Contague must soon, if he has not already, discover the nature of the root of all this excitement. It occurs to me that, then, his interest will intensify, passing beyond professional revenge.
“Huh?” He does go on like that “You lost me.” Not really, but he does like to feel smarter than the rest of us and the best way to keep him moving is to appeal to his ego.
The more I consider this Book of Shadows, the more sinister and seductive it seems.
I made appropriate noises indicating awed curiosity.
We all play roles all the time, Garrett. We all develop multiple faces we don according to the situation and companion of the moment and, perhaps, according to the advantage we hope to acquire. How terribly convenient it would be to have the ability to become whatever we wanted, filling the role to perfection, whenever that suited our whim.He sounded wistful. Having a Carla Lindo around can do that to anybody. How very convenient if we happen to be afflicted with terrible handicaps .
Like being dead, maybe? “I get you. But my inclination is just to squat here till we see how the wind’s blowing”
Unacceptable. There is a balance that must be rectified. Not to mention the fact that we have undertaken to aid Miss Ramada I must do some additional thinking on how best to proceed. While I do so, I suggest you cross the hall Dean has installed Mr. Tate in your office. He appears to need reassurances.
“Willard Tate? Here?”
The same.
“The old boy never leaves his compound. What the hell is he doing here?”
You might ask.
Nothing like a subtle hint. “Yeah. Right.” I headed for the office.
Tate had taken the guest chair He didn’t fit. Too small. Like a wispy. gray old gnome. Dean had settled him with a pitcher He was working on that and flirting with Eleanor. I said, “Three minutes more and you wouldn’t have caught me home “ Just to suggest that I was a busy man.
He glowered. “Tinnie’s taken a bad turn, Garrett “He gestured reassuringly, though. “Won’t kill her, they tell me. But it’s enough to leave me an emotional wreck. I came here to find out if you’ve learned anything new”
“Not a lot.”
I told him about my day. He shook his head slowly, angrily, looked at Eleanor as though he was talking to her. “I’m wasting my time and yours, I know that. But I couldn’t work Couldn’t sit still.” As he spoke he changed, gaining an edge of steel “I want to meet this woman who calls herself the Serpent. I want to tell her a thing or two.”
“She’s a witch, Mr. Tate. And not any tealeaf reader, either Not easy to reach and big trouble if you do. Moreover, my partner has cautioned me that Chodo Contague should be developing a more than passing interest in her “ I explained why.
Tate rose. He would have paced had there been room. “I don’t like seeing Tinnie hurt, Garrett. Nor any Tate. Especially not for no reason. I won’t endure it. Chodo isn’t a problem. I have money. I have proven connections. I can buy myself a stormwarden if I care to.”
“Sounds like the frying pan to the fire to me. Suppose you do buy you one. What happens when he figures out what the book is?”
“I don’t much care.”
“You ought to. I do. We have obligations that transcend—”
“Crap.”
“It’s not quite law of the jungle and survival of the fittest out there, Mr. Tate. Not yet. And that’s mainly because some of us do what’s right. Listen to me. That book is evil incarnate. Even if every character recorded in it is as sweet
and naive as Tinnie, the book is an instrument of darkness. Its only use can be to do evil.”
Was this me speechifying? My oh my.
I’d started thinking about how I could use the book myself. I suspected anybody who heard about it would do the same. Human nature. How could anyone who possessed it resist abusing the power it would confer?
“Think about this. If the Book of Shadows didn’t exist, would Tinnie be a step from death’s door? How about all the people who’ve already died because of it? It’s pure evil because it brings out the worst in everybody.”
In his best moments Tate looks like he’s noshing lemons. This wasn’t one of his best times. “I think you’re splitting hairs, Garrett. That book didn’t kill anybody. People made decisions and acted on them. Only then did people die.”
“Those decisions were warped by knowledge of the existence of the book.”
“You’re quibbling. We’re quibbling. Why? Are you trying to get money out of me? Why on earth are you sitting there talking to me at all?”
Best question he’d asked so far. “Courtesy, Mr. Tate. Courtesy.”
“Why don’t you toss me out? I’m just art old pain in the ass who’s keeping you from doing something useful.”
He was in a mood, he was. “You have a suggestion what? Maybe I should rent a horse and go galloping around yelling ‘Come out, come out, wherever you are.’”
His control had grown ragged, but he actually gave my question consideration.
“I’d like to do something, Mr. Tate. I want to do something. My style is to grab loose ends and keep picking till things unravel. But I’m having trouble finding any loose threads. All I can do is keep getting in the way and hope that leads somewhere Meantime, I keep tripping over all these other people who’re looking themselves.”
Willard Tate wasn’t a wealthy man because he let his emotions rule him. He clamped down. He thought. He told me. “You have resources. The girl. The dwarf chieftain. Those men who work for Contague. Find those two. Keep an eye on them. Let them do your hunting.”
He was a storehouse of ideas, all right. Crazy ideas. Follow Crask and Sadler around? Why not just tie boulders to my toes and go for a swim? Save us all time and trouble.
“They’re only men, Garrett. Chodo’s just a man. You’ve faced down stormwardens. You’ve invaded a vampire nest. Did those things use up all your courage and leave you a crippled old man, too?”
He was a manipulator, that guy. “No What did he want, really” I hadn’t yet gotten a real grip on the fact that he was here. Had he slipped his moorings?
“Money and contacts, Garrett. I’ve got them Chodo Contague doesn’t intimidate me. I want this Serpent creature. Get her for me Destroy her book if you want. It means nothing to me. Just get me her. My mind is set. I’ll pay whatever it costs. If you have to work through Chodo Contague, do it. Tell me what you need and I’ll provide the tools. But don’t sit there cringing.”
I wasn’t cringing, but wasn’t going to argue. He’d started sounding like a candidate for the cackle academy. Having him behind me was all right but preferably far behind and not on any crusade.
How do I get into these messes? I glanced at Eleanor. “Why me?”
Hell. I should get out of this racket Welder still wants me at the brewery. I could handle security there, work regular hours, and never worry about getting caught up in any wackiness.
A book of shadows that lets somebody change characters like I change socks. Come on. I don’t need it.
Tate and I looked at each other for a while. We drank some beer. He had his anger worked out now and seemed abashed. I’d never seen him that way, but in this world anything can happen.
The pitcher went dry. I called Dean. Carla Lindo came. Tate squeaked. The resemblance to Tinnie was strong in the weak light. I said, “This is Carla Lindo Ramada, Mr. Tate. The lady the assassins were after.”
He stared. “I understand their mistake. Speaking of which, I made a big one coming here. Made a real fool of myself, eh? Let me get out of your way, Mr. Garrett.” He rose, still staring. Carla Lindo was embarrassed.
His sudden change of attitude left me twitchy. I didn’t believe it but didn’t know him well enough to guess what he was thinking.
But I had the Dead Man to explain it to me. I said, “I’ll see you to the door.”
Tate was still looking at Carla Lindo when I closed the front door. A platoon of his relatives awaited him out there. Tinnie was the only Tate who went around alone. I wished that just the once, she’d clung to family custom. I’d just as soon I’d never heard of the Book of Dreams.
28
I joined my permanent houseguest. “What was that all about?”
He wished to discover if you had learned anything new. He is considering taking matters into his own hands. Miss Tate’s relapse appears to have unhinged him.
“You ask me, his hinges never were on tight. Damn. He’s one stubborn runt. He could cause a lot of grief.”
That appears to be his intent.
“You get anything useful out of that thick head?”
The best time to purchase leather futures. Should you care to get into the shoe and boot trade.
“You’re a scream, Old Bones. Har-har.”
Gnorst has been in the thick of it lately. Go see if he will tell you anything.
“Right.” it was getting dark out. I really wanted to take a stroll amongst the screeching morCartha and lurking dwarves. “Hell, why not? I still got places that don’t have bumps and bruises. Maybe if I get out there fast enough, I can even get myself killed.”
He knew no mercy. Do not forget to inquire after the latest from the Cantard .
Probably had a bet on with himself. Loghyr can do stuff like that if they’re inclined. They have multiple brains and sometimes multiple personalities.
I huffed out of there and told Dean I was going for a walk. Carla Lindo was there with him. I salivated all over the place. She smiled and posed Saucy. That was a good word for her. Along with about twenty others.
Dean hammered me with dirty looks. That old boy knows me too damned well, I ought to fire him and get somebody less opinionated. But where could I luck onto somebody who’d do half the job he does?
I checked the street good before I stepped outside. I checked again after I stepped out. I saw nothing obvious but stayed ready to duck. No bolts came whispering death. The only noise was that of the aerial circus. The morCartha had taken their show to the riverfront tonight.
I headed for the Safety Zone. It wasn’t out of my way. Morley’s place was closed up and dark. I went around back. Nothing. Amazing. Even when the front door is closed, there’s always somebody in the kitchen.
I was getting worried.
I tried Saucerhead’s place next. This time I got an answer but not from Tharpe. A little blonde about big enough to sit on his palm told me she hadn’t seen him all day. She got worried because it was me looking for him. She thought he was with me. I told her to relax, we’d Just missed each other. She didn’t relax.
I didn’t either. There was something going on. And I was zooming around in the middle of it like a blind moth amongst a thousand candles.
A sane moth would have landed and saved his wings.
Speaking of flames. I’d accumulated a tail again. I sensed it as I moved away from Saucerhead’s place. I didn’t run any games on him. Let him think I didn’t know. Let him relax. I’d move fast when I wanted to shake him.
I did change my mind about where I’d go next. I’d been thinking of making the rounds of every shady character I knew willing to sell somebody for a copper. None of those people were friends, but they did trust me not to bring down any heat. I’d lose a lot of sources if I went around fingering them even by accident.
So I headed for Dwarf Fort. Gnorst’s crowd could take care of themselves.
I went to the same door. The same old boy—or his evil twin—answered my knock. “I’m Garrett,” I reminded him, in case his memory w
as feeble or a different dwarf had taken up residence behind all the facial brush. “I need to see the Gnorst again.” I figured if this wasn’t the same dwarf, he’d at least have heard of my previous visit.
Same dwarf or not, he had the same talent for public relations. “You Tall Ones are all alike. Think nobody’s got nothing better to do than hop when you say frog, even in the middle of the night. All right. All right. If you must. If you insist. Himself, the very Gnorst, said bring you if you turn up again.” His manner suggested he thought his boss was a damned fool.
I stepped inside. “Whoa. Let me close that.” I pushed the door shut, to a crack, peeked outside.
Whoever was out there didn’t show himself. This was starting to spook me. I’d known only one man that good. He’d died. And there wasn’t any doubt he was still dead.
Gnorst met me in the same garden Maybe that was the only place outsiders were entertained. “How can I help you tonight, Mr. Garrett?”
“Just checking in I wondered if you’d learned anything since we talked.”
He shook his head. “Not one damned thing.” Man. He lied with such style I wanted to believe him anyway. You got to admire a character who can jerk you around and make you like it. Only I didn’t like it. He almost snarled as he said, “I would have sent a message if I had. I thought I told you I would.”
Oh really? When? “None of your people knew anything?”
“No”
“That’s curious.”
“How so?”
“There’ve been fights amongst dwarves all day. We’ve had dead dwarves turning up everywhere. I’d have sworn some were yours.”
“You’re a victim of your prejudices and preconceptions, Mr. Garrett. Gods bring on the hour when you stop thinking we all look alike,”
I could plead guilty except the little clown was trying to divert attention. He was lying. I knew he was lying. He knew I knew he was lying. He knew I knew he knew, and so forth. But this was his house and no place to challenge him.
I said, “When I came here before, I didn’t know anything about any Book of Shadows or what dwarves might have to do with making one. Right’?”
