“Aha! I was sure she belonged to Relway.”
That is not impossible.
Of course. “Anything about the Green Pants Gang?”
He is not allowed near them. But he hears rumors.
We went back and forth until I knew what he wanted me to know. I asked, “So how about we get back to the dog statues?”
Jackals! Are you stupid?
“No. Why is the distinction a big deal?”
Words are important, Garrett. Especially when they are names. The same is true of symbols. Religious symbols in particular. The jackal is important in many religions. None more so than those with a dark view of earthly existence. The cult of A-Laf appears to hold one of the darkest.
He’d clue me in about the jackals in his own sweet time. If he had any real notion. He isn’t above claiming knowledge he doesn’t actually have. He doesn’t just have multiple minds-he has multiple egos.
“You reached that conclusion based on what?”
Their behavior. The all-round implication that the cult is blacker than its feminine counterpart, which seems grim itself. Combined with recollections of historical precedents.
“You mentioned past cults before. Without explaining.”
Past cults, yes. None quite like this. These people are not creating the pain and despair they harvest on behalf of their god. They collect it where… oh.
“What?”
We are about to have company. Again. Get them inside as quickly as you can.
“You keeping an eye on Mulclar? He’s seeing a lot of coming and going.”
He is oblivious. His entire being is focused on his work and his unfortunate flatulence. The possibility that his gassy nature is responsible for his outcast status never occurred to him before. Get those people inside.
So he wasn’t going to explain the jackals now, either.
Did he have any real idea?
40
“Those people” arrived aboard a big black coach driven by Morley’s man Sarge. The guy I knew only as Theodore rode beside Sarge. They were alert.
The coach door facing the house opened. Puddle popped out. He cursed when he banged into the cart abandoned by Comstock and Nicolist, looked around like he expected to see Venageti skirmishers. I saw no weapons but suspected an arsenal was available.
Puddle beckoned. A man descended from the coach, pushed. He had his hands bound behind him. He was blindfolded. Welby Dell. Ah. Interesting. Puddle made him run.
Theodore jumped down and helped Puddle extract a reluctant Teacher White. Teacher had no idea where he was headed, but he meant to fight all the way. It took Puddle and Theodore both to get him in the house.
There were two more passengers. A Combine third-stringer named Trash Blaser and my very good pal Mr. Morley Dotes. I wasn’t entirely surprised to see him. Nor was I stunned when neither of Teacher’s imported thugs tumbled out of the coach. Which headed on up the street as soon as Sarge saw his boss slide past Mr. Mulclar.
There was a roar that could only be the tradesman losing control of something he’d been holding far too long. Morley gasped, “Oh, gods of the Rime!”
I delayed a half minute, hoping the breeze would disperse the miasma. While waiting, I noted that my pixies were as busy as bees, to sling an old chestnut.
My wait was pointless. Mr. Mulclar repeated himself with a true cathedral clearer just as I got there.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Garrett. I can’t help it.”
“I know that, Junk. None of us can. But we can watch what we eat. How much longer are you going to be?”
“It shouldn’t be long. What the problem is, the screws-”
“I’m not concerned. It’s your craft. One thing you can do for me, though, is keep an eye out for anybody who looks like they’re interested in my place. The kind who try to break doors down might try to get in while this one is off its hinges.”
“Oh. Yeah.” Rumble! “I never even thought about that. I’ll keep a eye out for sure.”
“Excellent. You’re a good man, Junk.” I beat a hasty retreat. Teacher might have done me a favor, fixing it so I didn’t have to breathe.
The new arrivals gathered in the Dead Man’s room. None of them were happy. Morley less than most, probably. He sensed the truth immediately. The Dead Man wasn’t napping anymore.
I confirmed his suspicion. “You and your guys want to get on out of here, go. If you’d be more comfortable.”
They would. The whole bunch tramped back out, Morley leaving me with a dark look and an invitation. “Come by the club when you get a chance.”
“Sure.”
He followed his guys.
The ghost of a chuckle filled the psychic atmosphere.
“They didn’t get out fast enough, did they?”
No. More psychic mirth. They never do.
He was having a good time, glad, now, that he’d wakened.
Singe came in, halfway slinking. She still isn’t comfortable with the Dead Man, either.
His Nibs gave us our instructions.
Singe removed Teacher’s blindfold and gag, but left his hands tied behind him. He found me seated facing him.
“So. Teacher. Things change. You got anything to say?”
Teacher wasn’t happy. Not even a little. But he couldn’t see the Dead Man from where he sat. He didn’t yet know true despair.
He didn’t respond. He wasn’t a complete mental lightweight. He wanted to scope out his situation before he did anything.
“Here’s how it is. Your poison didn’t take. Not completely. So I’m not going to hold a grudge.” I raised an eyebrow, then winked. He wasn’t naturally as pale as Skelington, but he came close. He couldn’t see the Dead Man. Skelington was in plain sight.
His mind is well shielded. I am making headway. While moving carefully enough not to make him suspicious. Distract him.
“Teacher, didn’t you do your homework? Why didn’t you know that you couldn’t pull something like you tried and get away with it?”
Teacher had nothing to say.
“Seemed like a good idea at the time, though, eh?” I gave him a few seconds. “Somebody put you up to it? Dean, I’m getting dry. Can you bring me some water?”
The supporting staff know little of any value. Although, between them, they have developed an extended list of places that Mr. Contague and Mr. Temisk cannot be.
“And might there be a pattern? A hole somewhere?”
Your continued queries have alerted Mr. White to the possibility that I may not be fully expired.
I didn’t need Chuckles to tell me when Teacher grasped the truth. He turned paler than he had been already.
I asked, “What did you do with my stuff you took?
“In your wallet? Good. So. Who killed Spider and Original? No? You can’t tell me? You didn’t know? You left them there with me.”
“They was supposed to look out for you. To make sure you didn’t croak or nothing before you woke up.”
He believes that to be true.
“What happened to Brett and Bart?”
“I didn’t need them no more. I paid them off. Cut them loose.”
Dean arrived with water. And a shopping list. Which looked all right. And made clear just how expensive all the entertaining was getting. “We’re completely out of tea?”
“We are.”
Grumble. “What’s Singe up to? She get the kittens settled down?”