by Glen Cook
I did not fall asleep right away, though not because Strafa crawled in and snuggled up. She went away instantly.
She had worked hard.
My mind had snagged on the possibility that the King was involved in the bad stuff to the point of trying to protect the evildoers.
Though there was no testimony yet I was sure the bad guys were buying prisoners from the Little Dismal operation and using them to build their thread men. Why, though, was beyond my imagination. The thread men were not aggressive unless driven. They were less dangerous than the zombies they resembled.
I reviewed each attack, over and over. I came up with nothing new, except that the lines of flight from Fire and Ice not only headed toward the Hill, they passed Knodical, supposedly currently untenanted.
That deserved investigation. The plunder from the Elf Town warehouse had gone there.
Were the Hill folk treading carefully because the King was entangled in something dark?
Waking was brisk but intense. Strafa Algarda turned loving into a religious experience. She whispered, “I can’t wait till we can take our time.”
“Me, neither.” I became part of a strange and wonderful beast when I failed to show character enough to say no.
“So get yourself up, love. We have work to do.”
“For example?”
“Today we are going to confound the Crown Prince and all the instruments of the night.”
I glanced out the window. It was raining.
“Let’s go, sourpuss!” She giggled. “Put on a smile. It will make itself at home. It’s going to be a wonderful day.”
I didn’t want to be that guy who spins around and looks to the past as soon as the future hits. But I wasn’t sure I could survive a diet of cheerful, happy, and positive — all before noon — for the rest of my life. And I knew, with no need for an outside consultant, that I’d signed on for the duration.
Strafa was perfect. She was everything a guy wove in his fantasies. Her sole flaw was that she lacked a sense of despair. She couldn’t work up a good gloom to save her own delectable patootie.
I nearly laughed. And then found out that I could be wrong.
As we dressed, I said, “We never got a chance to talk about what you found out when you visited Barate. And the kids.”
“Nothing useful. Their names may have been used but they weren’t the ones wearing them.”
The cheer had gone right out of her.
“Barate said he was going to check out some family legends.”
“He did. Though they were more like rumors to the effect that some of the old people weren’t actually inside their coffins when they went into the ground. The only way to be sure would be to dig them up.”
“I don’t think it will come to that.” I moved behind her and pulled her back against my chest. “What’s wrong?”
No artifice. “I saw my grandmother, too.”
“Shadowslinger?”
“Yes. She wishes us well. You and me, together.”
That came out of nowhere. “She knows?”
“Everyone seems to. I’m not sure how.” She pressed back and crossed my arms in front of her.
“Is that a problem?”
She found some slight bounce. “It’s a weight off, actually. I was worried about how to break the news.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“My grandmother has been under a lot of pressure to use her influence to get me to back away from all this.”
“That’s it? You have to stop? You can. It’s all right. But I won’t.”
“Neither will I. And nor will my grandmother.”
“Then what...?”
“My grandmother Constance felt obligated to relay the anxious desires of her class. She decided she was on our side only after I described Bird and Penny’s artwork. She may come by for a closer look. She wouldn’t explain but its obviously old family history. Probably to do with what Barate had in mind.”
She seemed small in my arms right then, like a frightened little girl.
She said, “What we’re doing may change the city as much as the end of the war did.”
“How so?”
“I don’t know. I’m not one of the insiders caught up in a froth of anxiety. But I feel the shift lurking out there, waiting to pounce. Why don’t we forget all that stuff I said we need to do and go back to bed. Right now I’d be much happier if the world was just you and me.”
“It’s a temptation. But you know Singe will walk in just when...”
Singe arrived early, as usual without knocking. “Good. I don’t have to throw cold water on you.”
And so the workday began.
97
Dean was in a glowing good mood when we got downstairs. I grumbled, “Can’t you see that it’s raining?”
“Isn’t it marvelous? We really need it.” He went on to tell me how fresh the air would smell later.
Didn’t he realize that the humidity would be torture?
Strafa poured mugs of something that wasn’t tea. It smelled monstrously good. I said, “Definitely tasty but I wouldn’t go out of my way.”
Dean said, “I tried to follow instructions but I think I missed.”
Strafa said, “It’s a novelty. Dean’s hard black tea is fine, robust daily fare.”
Dean and I looked at her askance, having trouble remembering that there was no need to read between her lines.
Singe came to the kitchen doorway. Strafa asked, “Did you see anything?”
“Rain. There isn’t a soul out there. It’s like they got washed away with the offal.”
Being a trained detective — albeit home-schooled — I detected something odd. “What’s going on?”
Strafa said, “There were Palace Guards going and Civil Guards arriving when we went to bed. General Block wanted in. We ignored him.”
Singe said, “I didn’t see anyone through the peephole so I went out to check.” She was damp. Soon she would develop a pong. “They’re gone. Every last man. There aren’t any watchers. A ratwoman told me they all got excited and charged off somewhere just when it was getting light.”
That wasn’t right. Block’s mob wouldn’t suddenly change their minds. Odd connections clicked. “What did we do when we bailed out of here last night?”
Strafa laughed. “We wasted time that we could have used getting to know each other. And made ourselves look like fraidy cats.”
“And we told anyone who cared to think about it that the Dead Man really is asleep.”
Singe gasped. “If he was awake we would not have run.”
“Exactly. Where are Morley and Belinda? Why aren’t they back yet?”
Strafa muttered something like, “Uh-oh.” She reached across and squeezed my hand. “I’ll go look.”
Singe warned, “You’ll get soaked.”
“I’ll go naked, then.”
We all stared.
“Come on, people. I can joke, too. There must be rain gear around here somewhere. Darling, you check the salt. In case we outwitted ourselves.” She clumped away fast. Dean went and dug out his rain gear for her.
Singe said, “We may have pulled a major stupid, right?”
“I don’t know how much ‘we’ there is for anybody besides me and Strafa. I do think we got snookered.” Dean came back. “Did you buy more salt, Dean?”
Wasted breath. He had his nose in a cupboard already. Out came a ten pound bag of pickling salt. He wasted no breath admonishing me to be frugal.
Singe got stuck with helping me. The cellar got her talking to herself. She told me, “As soon as it is safe I am having this cared for.”
“Can we afford it?”
“The annual gift to Tholozan House arrives next week. I have not tapped that fund since I took over your finances.”
I didn’t know what she meant. “What’s Tholozan House?”
“That is where I invest the gifts you get from your lapsed vampire girlfriend.”
“Oh.”
Kayean Kronk. The first woman I had ever loved and gotten close enough to touch. Morley and I had rescued her from vampires in the Cantard while the war was still raging. For the Tates. Two of who, Tinnie and Rose, had tagged along. Yesterday and tomorrow, when Kayean had been lost and Tinnie started looking like more than my pal Denny’s incredibly hot but unattainable cousin.
“You still here, Garrett?”
“I haven’t thought about Kayean in ages.”
“She thinks of you. She still sends the gifts she promised.”
She had inherited a fabulous fortune because of me. Her first gift had helped me buy my house and rehabilitate it around the Dead Man.
Singe asked, “Can you see who is at the door?”
I went despite not having heard a thing.
Kyra Tate. She came in looking like the proverbial drowned rat. “My umbrella blew away.” Singe arrived with a huge towel. I wondered when we had acquired that. Kyra said, “I don’t know why I’m out in this weather, anyway. Except that we love you.”
“Let’s get you back to the kitchen where we can get you warmed up.” Ever clever Singe was headed that way already. By the time Kyra and I arrived she had hot tea poured and Dean had brought the cookies out of hiding. I planted the girl, then asked, “So why are you out in this?”
“All the usual, plus I remembered where I saw the woman before.”
“Who?”
“The one in Penny’s sketches. I said I thought I saw her before. I did. But only once. It was at a party on the Hill. I was eleven. Our family got invited because they were part of some conglomerate including the people giving the party. The group had just gotten a huge army contract. Everybody was going to get a lot richer. The girl’s name was Jane something. She was only sixteen but she was already somebody’s mistress. She was so awful that the girls running with her were embarrassed. I never saw her again. I never heard anything about her again. Probably because Hill don’t socialize with people who actually do creative stuff.”
I smiled, did not comment other than to ask, “How can any of that help us now?”
“Other than to tell you Jane Whatsit is unpleasant? Not much. Except that I’ve gotten myself some pretty nice boobs since then.” She was too wet and had too limited an audience to flaunt the niceties. “And she hasn’t changed at all.”
I glanced at Singe. “Six years? In the dark we might not be able to see much difference.”
“Yeah. Well. Too. I saw Kip and Kevans yesterday. We talked a lot. Us girls ganged up on him. I think we got it worked out. Kevans tried hard to make Kip understand that she doesn’t need him protecting her all the time, anymore. That she’s fine with the life she’s living.”
“I’m thrilled to hear that. I hope you are, too.”
“I am, Mr. Garrett. Since he doesn’t have to worry about Kevans he can focus all that devotion on me.”
Yeah. A familiar echo there. “He will if he’s got any sense at all.”
“I don’t know where you and my aunt are anymore.”
“Neither do I.”
“Kevans’ mom knows, though, don’t she?”
“She’s never confused.”
Kyra shut her eyes. “Can’t believe I’m going to say this. You’re really a good man. You do good for everybody you can. So I think you should be with Kevans’ mom.”
“Kyra?”
“I know. I sound like a traitor. But Tinnie is never going to be anybody but who she is. Only getting more so, according to my uncles, who figure she’ll be hell on wheels in ten more years.”
“Thank you, Kyra.” I didn’t want to talk about it anymore. I didn’t want to think about it.
Kyra said, “They grew up with her mother. They knew her grandmother.”
Kyra was dried out, warm again, full of tea, and Singe said the rain had stopped. Singe found Dollar Dan napping on Morley’s cot. She wakened him and bullied him into walking Kyra home. After taking time to let Kyra know that young girls should not be roaming the city alone, however unappealing they made themselves appear.
“That was wicked,” I said after Singe closed the door.
“She is concerned about her looks. It will have a positive impact.”
“Now that she’s not here to hear me say so, I’m seriously worried, Singe.”
“As am I. Strafa has been out there far too long.”
Strafa. So. The final heart had surrendered.
I suggested, “You go nag Old Bones. I’ll sit here and worry enough for both of us.”
98
Strafa returned, dripping. The rain had started up again. She asked Singe, “Why is he so glum?”
“He is remembering the sad times before he found you. How bad is it?” She produced a twin to the towel she had used to dry Kyra.
A glance at Strafa told me she had bad news.
“There was an attack on that place we went last night. They burned it to the ground.”
“Oh, shit. Crush! DeeDee. Mike.”
“It started just after Belinda left. She heard the racket and went back. There was a huge fight.”
It must not have gone well. “Penny?”
“I don’t know. They were just starting to pick up the pieces. The fire wasn’t out yet. They were concentrating on that. The Guard turned up in time to get into the fight. The woman in black leather was there. She did some sorcery. Her thread men got wiped out. I counted eighteen. The woman and the cart took off. There was a running fight with Specials armed with military weapons. They stopped the cart by killing the goats. The woman got away. So did the thing that was in the cart. Nobody would swear it, but the talk was, a giant squid thing crawled out and turned into a naked man that ran off with the woman. She was wounded. Singe, could you track her?”
“In this weather? Not likely.”
I asked, “How about Belinda? How about Morley?”
“I don’t know. They wouldn’t let me get close. It looked like most of Belinda’s escort went down. Their mounts, too. The coach is on its side in the street, the team dead in the traces. On the upside, it didn’t look like the people from the house suffered much.”
“What should we do?” I asked the air.
The air did not reply.
“Singe, we have got to get him awake.”
“I have a job to do, as Strafa just said.”
“And, as you pointed out, it’s raining.”
“I am going to give it a try. The squid man should have a serious reek.”
Getting feisty, my little girl. Her charming adolescent deference and diffidence were fading.
“If you’re sure that’s what you need to do, go for it.” I asked Strafa, “Are you going to take her?” Hoping the prospect would turn Singe’s bones to jelly. If a shape-changing guy who turned into a giant squid didn’t do the trick.
“I have to go back anyway, to see about our friends.”
They were my friends so they were her friends. “I guess you do. Bless you, Strafa Algarda.”
“Garrett?”
“Just a sentimental moment. You are too perfect. Too precious. It’s frightening.”
And she didn’t get embarrassed by mushy stuff. She just laughed like wind chimes. Her eyes turned a violet shade that made me want to kiss each lid about a thousand times.
“The next few years could get really saccharine around here,” Singe grumbled. “Are we going to go, Strafa? Or would you rather stand around with a goofy expression, twisting Garrett till he looks like he’s mentally challenged?”
“That one for sure. But I was raised up to honor my civic responsibilities first.”
“Yes. Yes,” I said. “What will all this do to the political situation? They got everything calmed down once. Prince Rupert thought the cover-up would stick. But another attack could rip the head off a butt of chaos.”
Strafa kissed me. She made it clear that she meant it when she said she would rather stay and make me crazy. Then she headed out, with Singe right behind.
I as
ked the air, “Did the evil genius behind everything deliberately create a new crisis?”
Dean showed up. “Do you think it’s too risky for me to go out?”
“Yes, I do. There are people out there who want to commit murder for no obvious reason. Is there something we need desperately? Have Dollar Dan make the run when he gets back. Or go wake Bird up and promise him a bottle.”
“We face no critical shortages. I wanted a couple pounds of beef to slice for a dish I want to try. And I was hoping to swing by to see how Playmate is managing.”
“He took his medicine with him?”
“He did.”
“Strafa can check on him later.”
“That is best, I expect.” A pause. “I’m having trouble adjusting to the excitement being back.”
“I’m sorry.”
He chuckled. “I wasn’t fishing for an apology.” He made a search-and-capture sweep of Singe’s space, collecting rogue cups, trays, pots, and flatware. “It should all turn tediously domestic once this insanity gets sorted out.”
“Really?”
“The only challenge I foresee is you deciding if you’ll go live in the Windwalker’s mansion or if she’ll move in here. I’m thinking this place will get cramped with a gaggle of little Garretts underfoot.”
“Gleep!” Or, maybe better said, “Gleep?”
“I’ll give odds. You’ll be a daddy inside a year. And you will awe and amaze us all by turning out to be a good one.”
I couldn’t answer that. I didn’t have the words. “Gleep?” That stuff didn’t sound absurd when he said it.
The redhead, with her usual steadfast self-assertion, entered my mind. Hands on hips. Head cocked to her right. Chin lowered. “Well?”
The question never came up. Not even as speculation, excepting in the lateral sense of prevention. We’d never discussed our attitudes toward children let alone thought about making our own. Which surprised me, in retrospect.
I muttered, “God, strike me down now. I can’t possibly be old enough to be a parent.”
Dean broke out in the biggest shit-eating grin I ever saw on his ugly old clock.
“You prick.”
His grin got bigger. “We should move to her place. There’ll be room for your own kids and strays like Penny, too.”
