Angry Lead Skies



previous |
Table of Contents |
next

82

“What the hell do you mean, he got away?” I yelled
at Dean. “Between you and Old Bones in there you
couldn’t manage one guy four feet tall and only about fifty
pounds soaking wet?”

“You exaggerate, Mr. Garrett,” Dean replied with
cold dignity. “That creature has Powers. And the thing in the
other room went to sleep.” He jabbed a thumb in the direction
of the Dead Man. “If you insist on pillorying someone for
dereliction, I suggest your candidate be the thing actually capable
of having exercised control over the foreigner.”

“But he’s asleep. I can’t vent my frustrations
by yelling at him.”

Dean shrugged. My need to yell was a matter of indifference to
him. Unless I showed the slack-witted judgment to zero in on him
personally. “I expect you’re starved, Mr. Garrett. What
do you say to stuffed peppers?”

That was blackmail in its rawest form.

Dean’s smile was wicked, even demonic. He’d do it.
He’d really make the whole house reek of that foul fruit.

“You watch out I don’t change the locks next time
you go out of the house.”

Dean smiled. It’s his firmly held conviction that I
can’t get along without him.

The man is mad.

“I’m going to go into my office. I’m going to
put on my thinking cap. Singe, how about you grab us a pitcher and
a couple of mugs?” I really wanted to go pummel the Dead Man
but knew I’d just end up driving myself crazy. If he was
soundly enough asleep to let Casey get away there’d be no
waking him up anytime soon.

Because beer was involved Singe overlooked my treating her more
like an employee than a partner, which is what she figured she
was.

I didn’t give Eleanor more than a passing glance because I
knew what I’d find if I bothered to consult the woman in the
painting. No help at all and a whole lot of amusement at my
predicament.

Singe materialized with the beer. Not one pitcher but two, one
in each paw, with mugs. We went to work sipping, nobody saying
much. After a while she returned to the kitchen for refills. We
sipped some more. I began to relax. Then Dean stuck his head in to
tell me that Colonel Block was at the door and wanted to see
me.

I hadn’t heard him pounding.

Singe hadn’t either, apparently. She said, “Just
when I was about to seduce you.”

“Life’s a bitch. There’s always a Westman
Block ready to jump in and ruin the moment. Colonel! How good to
see you. To what do we owe the pleasure?” Singe moved her
special chair aside so Block could plant himself in the guest
seat.

Block nodded his head sagely. “All right, Garrett. You got
me fooled. You’re thrilled to see me. I just wanted to share
some news. We caught one of those silver elves that have been
terrorizing the city.”

“Terrorizing?” Being the superb actor I am, I kept a
straight face and said, “Really? Congratulations.”

“Don’t waste the effort.”

“Huh?”

“I know what’s been going on, Garrett. Lucky for
you, most of the time I buy into Deal’s concept of the rule
of law.”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

“Your attitude, however, frequently makes it hard to cut
you any slack.”

“So my best friends keep telling me. I had a rough
childhood. My daddy got killed in the war.”

Which wasn’t the smartest choice of wiseass comments. But
the good colonel set me straight.

“Don’t be a dickhead, Garrett. Everybody’s
daddy got killed in the war. That’s the way they did it in
those days. They waited till a guy created a family before they
conscripted him. That way they could be sure there’d be more
soldiers coming up.”

“Easy. Sorry.” This was an aspect of Wes Block I
hadn’t seen before. “So let’s be serious.
You’ve caught one of the silver elves.”

“And he isn’t talking. We’re not entirely sure
that he can. The people who’ve examined him say it might not
be possible to make him talk because we don’t have the
technical expertise.”

Clever, clever Casey. He was selling his strangeness.
“And?”

“And there have been suggestions, from some quarters, that
your partner might be able to fill the communications
gap.”

Ah. Now we came to the reason for the friendly visit.
“There’s an idea that hasn’t found its time.
Assuming there was any way at all he could be talked into
underwriting the delinquencies of the people you’re fronting,
there’s still one problem. He’s sound asleep. Based on
grim experience, I’d say there’s a cruel chance
he’ll stay that way for a long time. Because he’s had
to stay awake a lot, lately.”

“I’m trying to save you some grief,
Garrett.”

“And I appreciate it. But no amount of good intentions on
your part, or of anybody else’s wishful thinking, can change
the facts. Come on. I’ll show you.” Like there’s
anything visibly different about how the Dead Man looks when
he’s sleeping. “Stick a pin in him if you want. He
wouldn’t feel it anyway but if he was awake he’d
respond to the insult. Or you could say something revolting but
true about the Loghyr.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” But his tone
wasn’t that reassuring. “The trouble is, I have people
pressing me who don’t really care about such
problems.”

“You have people pressing you who’re stupid enough
to risk offending a dead Loghyr?”

“In a word, yes. There really are people who don’t
know any better.”

“People that survived the Cantard?”

“We have a crop of apprentices coming up who didn’t
get a chance to experience the worst the war had to offer before
the Venageti collapse. They don’t know they’re not
invulnerable. They have no grasp whatsoever on their true
limitations. And they’re in a hurry now.”

“You don’t say. And you don’t know any older,
cooler heads who might rein them in?”

Block shrugged. He looked grim. He shuddered. I asked,
“What?”

“I never expected it would be easy. But I did
hope.”

“Which means?”

“Which means that I’m going to have to find a hole
and pull it in after me because Relway’s gotten a big head
lately, too. He insists that if any of those spook-chaser pups do
step very far outside the law, he’ll nail them the same as if
they were muggers on the street.”

“Oh, boy. That’ll bring their daddies out.” I
took a huge breath, let it go in a grand sigh. “I
didn’t think he’d move this soon.”

“That little man is crazy, Garrett. But crazy like the
proverbial fox. I’d bet he’s a lot more ready for a
showdown than you or I think he could be. If he does go down
he’ll make sure it’s in a conflagration so dramatic
that not just TunFaire but all Karenta will be changed
forever.”

I sighed me another one of those huge sighs. “All right. I
don’t want to do this. I hate to get noticed by those people.
But there’s a slim chance I can get through to your guy. If
he’s the one we called Casey. I assume he is because all the
rest of them seem to have gone aboard the skyship that was
terrorizing the city earlier today.”

Block gave me one of his squinty looks. He knew that skyship had
made an up close and personal appearance at the digs of my friend
Morley Dotes. But he didn’t press the matter.

I offered him a brief, thoroughly edited version of events on
the Embankment, claiming I’d been there in the interest of my
client Kip Prose, who still felt threatened. “The point is,
I’m still finding myself up to my ankles in Bic Gonlit.
Nothing I do gets that guy to go away. He’s started to make
me wonder if it isn’t personal after all.”

“Bic Gonlit. With a stormwarden, eh?”

“A thoroughly shabby stormwarden. You’d figure him
for a fake, just looking at him. Nobody off the Hill ought to be
that scruffy. But he sure brewed up the lightning when the time
came to show his stuff.”

“I haven’t gotten the reports on that incident yet.
I’ll look into it when I get back.” He asked several
questions evidently meant to give him clues to the sorcerer’s
identity. I don’t think I helped.

Singe decided to go refill our pitchers.

Block said, “That’s creepy, Garrett.”

“What is?”

“That rat running around here just like she was
people.”

“Oh.” I didn’t start an argument. “You
get used to it. You are holding the silver elf at the al-Khar,
aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

Good. It would’ve been bad—for me—if
they’d decided to question Casey in the cellar of one of
those ugly stone piles on the Hill. “Well, let me tie up a
few loose ends here, then I’ll wander over there with you and
take a shot at seeing what I can do with your guy.”

Colonel Black was suspicious, right away and right down to the
bone. And he was right to be. “What’re you up to,
Garrett?”

“I’m trying to keep my life from getting infested
with parasitic wizards. I’ve had run-ins with Casey before.
If it’s him you’ve got and not some other elf none of
us knows about, I might be able to communicate with him. I managed
once before. But he’s stubborn. And he isn’t afraid of
anything.”

Block’s suspicions were allayed only slightly. I
don’t know why. I’m a trustworthy kind of guy.

“I’m going to go help Singe. If Dean’s not
there to do it for her she gets beer all over drawing it out of the
cold well.” I went to the kitchen. “Singe, I need the
invisibility fetish.”

Somebody trusted me. She handed the thing over without a
question.

“You know if we have any more of these things squirreled
away anywhere?”

She shook her head. “You gave all the rest back to the
women or to that man in there. He’s afraid of me, isn’t
he?”

“In a way. Yes. He’ll get over it. Say a prayer for
me to the gods of the ratfolk.”

“Or maybe I will not. Our gods are all cruel and
treacherous. Reflecting the world itself. We just try to trick them
into looking the other way.”

A philosophy I could embrace wholeheartedly.



previous |
Table of Contents |
next