Part 42 (2/2)

Dean gave me a hand. For reasons probably having to do with externally applied inhibitions, I didn't wonder what Colonel Block would think about us turning his prisoner loose. Nor did I wonder why Old Bones wanted him running free. With my experience I should've been more suspicious.

After a long adventure through nasty streets, Dean and I abandoned cart and deacon not far from the Al-Khar. We trudged home exchanging lies about who was more tired. I got there to find the seating arrangements in the Dead Man's room revised. There seemed to be plenty enough kittens to provide several for every Contague. The big boy from Ymber was snoring. Harvester Temisk looked like he was dead. But he kept on breathing. Poor Harvester. His only role now was to take up s.p.a.ce.

I asked, ”What happened to Saucerhead and Winger?”

”Winger is in your office,” Singe told me. ”Saucerhead went looking for her friend and to find someone the Dead Man wants to consult.”

”Who? Why?”

”I was not invited into the planning.”

The way things usually work around here. ”Winger is in my office? G.o.ds! I hope she's empty.”

”She is now.”

Dean muttered something about the ever-expanding population of the house and disappeared. I thought he was off to whip up something to eat. Instead, he dragged his sorry a.s.s off to bed.

I settled in the Dead Man's room, leaning against the wall. There were no seats available. Nor would be soon, I suspected. I was ready to collapse from exhaustion. Yet again. But I didn't want to miss anything.

The Dead Man was working some Loghyr mojo on our dysfunctional family guests. a.s.sisted by a gaggle of cats.

Chodo was more alive than ever. I stared. I wasn't frightened. I felt creepiness instead. In times gone by there'd always been terror when I was near the kingpin.

”Am I over that?” Seemed like a good time to find out if my sidekick was paying attention.

Unlikely. Changes are going on inside Mr. Contague. The impact of the kittens is much greater in the company of their high priestess. Which the girl has become by default, as sole survivor of her temple. A-Lat herself is hidden inside the child. And inside the Luck. Too scattered to have much power. Which is our great good fortune. We would not stand up to her otherwise. Nevertheless, the effect here will not be one hundred percent. And there is little chance of permanence.

I made grunting sounds. Deities make me nervous. There are a zillion of them, all real, all at cross-purposes, all unpleasant. Ninety-nine out of a hundred have no interest whatsoever in the well-being of mortals. Particularly if the mortal is named Garrett. And there was little evidence that this encounter would turn out positive-despite A-Lat's salutary impact on Chodo's madness at the moment.

”Can I note that more than one heart is in agony here?”

Careful what you wish for. Some may not enjoy being cured. Not till later did I realize he was painting me me with that brush. with that brush.

I told anybody who cared, ”I'm going to bed. We can wrap this up tomorrow.” I had some thinking to do, too. I do that best without distractions.

72.

Singe wakened me. She'd brought tea. ”Don't you ever let up?” I was accepting no peace offerings today.

Somebody kicked me in the back of the legs. ”Shaddup!”

”So that's it, huh? Trying to catch us up to something again.”

”No. The Dead Man wants you.”

I got kicked again. ”This don't seem like a hot sell, Miss Tate,” I grumbled at the bushwhacker. ”If this is what I've got to look forward to.” Which got me kicked again. In my own bed. I suffered the slings and arrows, rewarded my long-suffering with a hot cup of tea.

Ten minutes later, biscuit and mug in my left hand, half a foot of sausage in my right, I trudged into the Dead Man's room. Dripping grease. I was groggy but no longer cross-eyed with exhaustion. I was looking forward to the day I had my old self back.

”Looks like I'm the first man on the job.” Sleeping folks were strewed everywhere.

Excepting Singe, Dean, and I. And the Luck.

Yeah. Several dozen cats were on the bounce.

”Weather any better? Can we move these parasites out?”

Probably not. Not comfortably. Unless you move fast.

”Huh?”

An a.s.sociate of Mr. Dotes brought a message while you were loafing. There was an overwhelming implication of paybacks for all the times I'd complained about him snoozing when I had a strong desire for a little genius backup.

”What's on your mind?”

I wish to propose that you have fulfilled your abiding obligation to Mr. Contague wish to propose that you have fulfilled your abiding obligation to Mr. Contague.

”What? He's just... he's still...”

He remains confined to his wheelchair. It is unlikely that he will ever leave it. Only a Loghyr mind surgeon can repair damage done by a stroke. Loghyr mind surgeons were rare as roc eggs even when our tribe was bountiful. But Mr. Contague is possessed of a powerful will. I would not bet heavily against him accomplis.h.i.+ng anything-if he can stay out of the hands of those who wish him ill.

”Meaning family?” Family was snoring a yard from my feet. Belinda and Singe had quaffed a few quarts after I went upstairs.

Family, yes. But Miss Contague was not the worst of his tormentors. He possesses recollections of being force-fed by persons other than his daughter. Persons most likely a.s.sociated with Merry Sculdyte. Who was not always forthright with his brother.

”Merry was working against Rory?”

At cross-purposes, certainly. Mr. Contague recalls incidents that distinctly suggest an enduring hatred by Merry toward his brother. There are deep shadows in Sculdyte's mind. He is twisted and torn because he loves Rory, as well. You will find the details in the written history. That is not important at the moment. Decisions about what to do with Mr. Contague and Mr. Temisk are.

”Huh?”

Have you not been considering what to do next?

”Sure.” Though not very hard. Chodo and his pal couldn't hang out here forever. And I couldn't see Chodo going back home. That would put him back where he started. But my conscience wouldn't turn him loose on the world again, either. Nor would it allow me to tell Old Bones that I was satisfied that I no longer owed Chodo.

I antic.i.p.ated as much antic.i.p.ated as much.

Uh-oh. He was up to something. And was way ahead of me in whatever his scheme was.

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