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And still the girl wanted to argue. Of course.

And yet, so many do survive to become disgruntled old farts like me.

I had, for sure, begun to understand Medford Shale, my crabby antique of an only living relative.

Scary.

Life was turning around on me, big time.

Shadowslinger started toward the World.

‘‘Get your ass movingnow !’’ I told Kip. Adding a hearty slap upside the head.

You do have to get their attention.

I asked the Windwalker, ‘‘Who comes with this one?’’

‘‘Hard to imagine her as a parent?’’

‘‘Yes.’’

‘‘She’s actually the grandmother. Of Strake Welco. The kids call him Smokeman. And she isn’t a tenth as bad as the stories claim. I’m pretty sure she’s never actually eaten anyone.’’

‘‘Smokeman? I haven’t run into that one.’’

From a little bit of over yonder a disgruntled Miss Tate watched me and my hazel-eyed friend. I felt her nurturing her need to have Malsquando do some explaining.

Furious Tide of Light said, ‘‘This is the last time I’m going to tell you, Kevans.’’ In the tone that tells a kid there ain’t gonna be no more slack cut. Doom is a-comin’ to town.

Kip and Kevans banged into each other getting through the doorway into the World. Two others—Teddy and Mutter—decided to keep up. They were embarrassed instead of afraid. I got no chance to work out which freakish adults were embarrassing them.

Shadowslinger kept gathering speed. I asked the Windwalker, ‘‘How did those people get down here? Two of them can hardly move.’’

‘‘Coaches. In her case, a purpose-built wagon with the body low-slung between the wheel sets.’’

‘‘Are you all right now?’’ I’d been amazed how light she was.

‘‘I’m recovered. I had a dizzy spell.’’ She didn’t want to rehash. She picked up the silver hat pin Tinnie had taken away from Heather. ‘‘This might be useful.’’ As an afterthought, she said, ‘‘Thank you for not leaving me.’’

‘‘You’re welcome.’’

The owner-operator of the hat pin was being harried into the coach that Alyx used, twenty yards east of where Dierber and Avery were burning out on blame-gaming the Bellman’s escape.

The workmen who had fled had collected in two locations, each about a hundred feet from the door. The inside guys were with Luther, to the west. The outside guys were to the east, out beyond the Weider coach. They missed no opportunity to get some joy out of that.

Tinnie, especially, suffered a plague of eye tracks, top to bottom, and lingering. She definitely didn’t want to leave while I was stuck back by the door, within snatching range of an intriguing, exotic woman. She stopped fifteen feet from Alyx’s coach and glared my way till Miss Weider herself dismounted, came, grabbed a handful of red curls, started marching.

Such caterwauling!

Shadowslinger had covered half the distance from there to here and was still gaining speed. She bulled through Saucerhead’s crew, indifferent to their presence. I had to admire her self-confidence.

The Windwalker kept making ‘‘Not to worry’’ noises.

Saucerhead appealed for guidance, by gesture. Though, plainly, he didn’t want to be noticed by the Hill bunch. He knew what they were but would act if he was told to. He had taken my money.

In a manner of speaking.

We hadn’t had an actual payday yet.

Tinnie vanished into the Weider coach.

A couple more Hill types got a notion to come chat with me and my new pal. Or maybe they just got caught in Shadowslinger’s wake and pulled along.

I signaled Tharpe to let it play.

I wondered what Director Relway would think when he heard.

As always, his Runners and red tops would be watching.

Most likely he’d have me dragged in for a few intimate moments.

Furious Tide of Light suggested, ‘‘Let’s go inside where it’s warm.’’

‘‘Yeah. And where we can enjoy the romantic music.’’

That got me a look. Not quite ‘‘What’s this I stepped in?’’ More like ‘‘What language is this cretin speaking?’’

‘‘I can’t help myself sometimes. Lead on.’’

Shadowslinger and the rest formed a scattered parade coming after.

71

We were near the edge of the installed floor planking. I considered Rocky’s mess, down below. ‘‘Need to get that cleaned up.’’

The Windwalker told me, ‘‘This is a good spot. Keep me between you and the old witch until we find out where you stand. And remember, none of us are as bad as our reputations make out.’’

I had reservations.

Ghosts drifted our way, drawn by Furious Tide of Light.

I couldn’t quite get my mind around the differences between this woman and the Windwalker who tagged along after Barate Algarda. ‘‘You aren’t twins, are you?’’ Her eyes had remained a steely shade for several minutes now.

‘‘No. I’m a role player. Like these ghosts. Only I try to be what the beholder does want to see.’’

Did that mean I was in need of a kick-ass blonde who looked like a starved teenage elf girl in ferocious heat?

Clammy fingers brushed the back of my neck. The very sensation Morley had reported. Meanwhile, that creepy thing called Shadowslinger made an ugly silhouette coming through the doorway. Outside, unseen but heard, Link and Schnook argued genially about what news of the Bellman they ought to squeeze out of me first. Once they laid hands on, of course.

I decided never to forgive Morley for having sent me to the Busted Dick.

Furious Tide of Light giggled. She started breathing heavy.

Hopefully a reaction unique to her, here, and only when Barate Algarda wasn’t around. There’d been no panting or sighing when she visited with him.

What else might she do when her old man wasn’t there to kibitz?

The clammy tentacle-touches kept delivering the creepy chills. Those ghosts loved me today.

In truth, they touched me only because I was between them and Furious Tide of Light.

What a woman. Even the dead wanted to make her groan.

The dead? Well, not really. Something else. If these were actual shades, Shadowslinger would be the one making happy noises.

I wasn’t sure Short, Broad, and Hideous saw the spooks. She just kept coming, muttering something about her granddaughter. The Windwalker said something in one of the gobbledygook dead languages her class use to impress the marks. Shadowslinger barked something back.

Commenced a bit of back and forth, the old and wide sounding like a granny reprimanding people pups whose behavior failed to meet her exacting but ever-shifting standards. The Windwalker not only didn’t back down; she showed no evidence of being intimidated.

I was.

The Windwalker was, however, unhappy. In an aside, she told me, ‘‘She’s my father’s mother. Berbach and Berbain are her grandchildren, too. She just can’t understand why we won’t do things her way all the time, whatever she says.’’ Her eyes were an angry green.

‘‘I thought she was the grandmother of—’’

‘‘Teddy lives with her. Teddy is Kevans’ second cousin. She’s Kevans’ grandmother, too.’’ And that was all the time she had to explain which of the Faction were related to who, and how, because the rest of the parents’ club began to form up between us and the doorway. Link Dierber continued evaluating ways of getting me to tell him all about Belle Chimes.

Furious Tide of Light growled, ‘‘Knock that crap off, Link. We aren’t here because of something that happened between you and the Bellman fifteen years ago. Which, from what the rest of the family says, was your fault, anyway.’’

That little lump actually shut up. The others did, too. Amazing. Some of the ugliest pustules on the body politic ever. Walking nightmares to us down on the mundane streets. Apparently mostly related and all just worried parents.

Dierber sputtered suddenly, unable to control something that had to get out. The gist being that the disrespect shown him by the Bellman had been so egregious that the only possible response had to be orchestrated atrocities.