"You're all right, then. Dean, I'll take a mug of tea while I rattle Old Bones."
Dean scowled and grumbled, not at all inclined to let me take matters into my own hands. He prepared the tea with such care and deliberation I was ready to do without before he finished. Tea is tea. Making a religious ceremony of fixing it doesn't improve it a bit. There are those who would consider me a barbarian— the same ones who aren't civilized enough to appreciate good beer. The Dead Man was awake. He wasn't in a mood to be interrupted. He knew we'd have company soon and was working himself up for it. I believe he had visions of using the Stormwarden—who had been in the Cantard for months—as a chamois to buff up his Glory Mooncalled theory.
I followed Amber's example and went to my room to groom myself for the hours ahead.
That done, I settled at a window and watched the street. It wasn't quiet out there. The Stormwarden's men remained at their posts but weren't watching the house. Their carrying on had drawn a crowd. The lords of the Hill can get away with a lot. They usually remain above the laws that keep the rest of us from preying on each other. But the invasion of a home without the prior approval of the judges is something people won't tolerate. Had the Stormwarden's men tried to break in during the night, they might have gotten away with something— had the Dead Man allowed it. Now it was too late. If they tried, the crowd would tear them apart. Our overlords have to exercise a delicate touch when they violate the sanctity of the home. I hoped the uptown boys didn't get stupid. I had worked myself into a tight enough place already.
They kept me there. And company, when it came, did so from an unexpected quarter. From the corner of my eye I caught a stir coming from downtown. What to my wondering eye should appear but Saucerhead Tharpe in convoy with Sadler and Crask. The bunch looked like they had breakfasted on bitterbark soup at Morley's place.
I sighed. "I knew things were shaping up too damned well."
I ran into Amber in the hallway. She asked, "Is she here?"
"Not yet. It's Saucerhead and a couple guys you don't even want to know by sight. And I'm not going to be able to find out what they want if you don't let me get to the stairs."
"Oh." She stepped aside. "Grouch."
"You're probably right. You might warn Dean so he can get something ready. They look like they'll need it."
I was three steps from the door when Saucerhead knocked. 1 glanced through the peephole and opened up. As my guests entered I gave the Stormwarden's red-faced boy a glare and said, "Don't even think about it." He got redder, but I didn't have to watch. I shut the door on him.
I seated them in the small front room next to my office. Dean appeared with tea and sweetcakes just as though they were expected. I said, "Well? What is it? How bad is it?"
Saucerhead glanced at the other two. They were willing to let him do the talking. I couldn't quite tell what the threesome were up to. There was no tension between them, just a commonality of undirected disgust. Tharpe said, "Skredli got away."
"Skredli? Got? Away? What did he do? Sprout wings and fly? Was he some kind of werebuzzard?" I'd never heard of such a beast, but nothing in this world surprises me anymore. If a man can turn into a wolf, why not an ogre into a buzzard? Both transformations seem singularly fitting. Perhaps even symbolic.
Prejudiced? Who? Me?
The gods forefend.
"No, he didn't fly, Garrett. He just took off running."
I started to express my incredulity, but it struck me that I might learn a little more a lot faster with my mouth shut. I admit I don't often have these epiphanies. Saucerhead explained. "It was just getting light when I went out there. They took me up to the front porch and told me to wait. Then they went in and brought Skredli out. And all of a sudden, like that was all he was waiting for, he took off like a bat out of hell."
Crask said, "It was chilly up there last night. The lizards get sluggish when their blood cools down."
Sadler added, "Dogs won't run an ogre 'less they're specially trained. Anyway, Chodo's mutts are supposed to keep people from getting in, not from getting out."
And Saucerhead, "It happened so sudden, and he was gone so fast, nobody had time to do nothing but gawk."
No point in whining. It wasn't my problem, anyway. Or was it? "You didn't come down here just to let me in on that, did you?"
Saucerhead hit me with the news. "Chodo thinks you're going to stick on what you're after till you find Donni Pell. He figures that when you find her, you'll find Skredli again, too."
"That sounds plausible."
"He wants Sadler and Crask to be there when you find them."
"I see." I can't say I was disappointed. I foresaw any number of potentialities right down the path. Those three guys would be handy if the fur began to fly. "All right. I'm expecting heavyweight company sometime today. Raver Styx."
"We know the game and the stakes, Garrett."
"Indeed?" Had Amber been running her mouth? No. Saucerhead just thought he knew the stakes.
Which alerted me to the fact that there would be no gold hunting until Skredli and Donni Pell turned up. Unless I decided I didn't mind Chodo's thugs hanging around when I turned it up.
"Go about your routine," Sadler told me. "We'll stay out of your way."
Sure they would. As long as it wasn't in their interest to do otherwise.
______ XLIV________
We killed time playing cards. Dean was in and out, laying scowls on me. I knew what he was thinking: I ought to whip all these bodies into a rehabilitation frenzy and get some work done on the house. He doesn't understand that characters like Saucerhead, Sadler, and Crask get no thrill out of domestic triumphs. Amber popped in once, decided she couldn't handle all the joviality, and retreated upstairs. The Dead Man remained alert in his quarters. My neck prickled each time his touch passed through the room. He would never admit he was nervous, though. Amber came back awhile later. "She's coming, Garrett. I thought she'd at least send Domina once first." She hesitated for a split second. "I think I'll stay upstairs."
"I was sure you'd want to suggest she learn to pick her nose with her elbow."
"I'm not quite ready for that yet."
"And if she insists on seeing you?"
"Tell her I'm not here. Say I ran off somewhere."
"You know she won't believe that. She's a stormwarden. She'll know where you are."
Amber shrugged. "If I have to face her, I will. Otherwise, just leave me out of it."
"Whatever you say."
The future began hammering on the door. Dean looked in to see if I wanted him to answer. I nodded. He headed out at a reluctant shuffle. I rose and went after him. Amber scurried up the stairs. Saucerhead and the boys folded their hands and strolled into the hallway. I was five feet behind Dean when he swung the door inward. The Dead Man's attention was so intense the air almost crackled. I had one hand in my pocket, gripping one of the potencies given me by Saucerhead's witch, knowing that if I employed it, Raver Styx would notice the spell about as much as she might notice the whine of a mosquito. She had come to the door alone, though she'd been accompanied on the journey from the Hill. A coach and small army cluttered the street behind her. My neighbors had made themselves scarce.
She was a short woman, heavy and gnarly, like a dwarf. She'd never had anything like Amber's beauty, even at sixteen, when they all look good. Her face was grim and ugly. She had bright blue eyes that seemed to blaze in contrast with her tanned, leathery skin and graying hair. If she was angry, though, she concealed it very well. She seemed more relaxed than most people who come to my door. Dean had frozen. I moved forward. "Do come in, Stormwarden. I've been expecting you."