That explained Kevans being unhappy to see Felhske. It explained him wearing a near full-body fright wig that he had to get somewhere. Kevans had made a deal with Rupert and thought she was in control. Felhske turning up proved otherwise. To Kevans that said the prince did not trust her.
He allowed himself to be captured.
‘‘I know.’’
The young lady has, perhaps, overstepped herself. Youth features impatience and overconfidence. In ten years she could have been one of the great villains. The sociopathic pieces are all there. They need experience and polish.
She will not laugh.
‘‘Say what?’’ He was having fun now.
Given the opportunity to become what she has the potentialto be, Kevans Algarda would make few of the traditional story villain mistakes. No windy, gloating explanations. No evil laughter.
‘‘Another Belinda.’’
Worse. For Miss Contague these days it is about business ninety percent of the time, plus a touch of the personal. For Miss Algarda it would be personal most of the time. She would be punishing the world.
‘‘But selling compliance devices to the red tops . . .’’
Each including a control spell that can be tripped at the convenience of the manufacturer.
Consider, though. She fell into the situation but instantly understood that she was dealing with a man who might becomeking. She is impatient, but also capable of thinking ahead.
‘‘And you got no hint of any of this while the Algardas were here.’’
I did not. There is an excellent chance that they know nothing.
‘‘Yet they wore wigs.’’
Yes, they did. Algarda started at Kevans’ suggestion severalweeks ago.
‘‘She was setting him up to put thoughts in.’’
She was readying him for the day when she could.
‘‘And the Windwalker?’’
Kevans has very little respect for her mother. ‘‘That fire-crotchbimbo!’’ when she talks about her to the other kids. There is, definitely, an element of competition for Daddy’s attention and affection. But, as to the parental place in this, I believe them to be exactly what they purport. Parents worriedabout their daughter. With reason, obviously. Their part in the scheme would be unwitting. Many people have contributed,none being fully aware. Miss Algarda has used every acquaintance as a brick in the overall wall.
‘‘And would’ve gone to wondrous places if not for the rest of the Faction.’’
Those boys and their giant bugs were her undoing.
Dean barged in with food. ‘‘I’ll fetch a fresh pitcher in a minute.’’ He looked around. Matters appeared to be proceeding to his satisfaction. But, ‘‘Has anyone thought about what to do when the parents show up demanding explanations?’’
Oh. ‘‘You think they will?’’
That will depend on what the individual young people believe happened here. I suspect most will not be anxious to have their parents become further involved. We have leveragenow.
‘‘But Dean is right. We’ll hear from somebody. And none of this is what we’re getting paid for.’’
Correct. We will get back to the World in the morning.The connection between the Faction and the theater has been severed. The young people should go their own ways.
Tomorrow John Stretch will make his final effort. I am confident that his rats will find little of interest. In point of fact, now we have only to deal with the dragon.
A big Only.
The Dead Man’s mood had gone through a dramatic upgrade. He was on a super high now, thrilled to be part of what, for him, was a wild intellectual adventure.
Me too. Some.
There were beautiful women everywhere, wicked and good and every possible alloy in between, along with selfish, shallow, naive, and self-destructive. What a wonderful landscape!
Old Bones went right on having adventures in the wild country behind the eyes of Kevans Algarda and Lurking Felhske. I felt his glee as he plowed the darkness and turned up curious artifacts, most of which he would never share because he wouldn’t consider them my business.
Ah.
‘‘Yes?’’
I have made an interesting discovery. Buried deep in the trivia cluttering Mr. Felhske’s mind.
‘‘Which would be?’’ Knowing he loved to be coaxed.
Who produced your most recent batch of clubs?
‘‘Clubs?’’ Oh. He meant the weighted headknockers. I’d bought six last fall. I keep leaving them behind. Or getting them taken away. Cost of doing business. ‘‘Ivl Verde. The furniture maker who supplies the wooden parts for the three-wheels. He has troll-powered lathes that can turn a club in a couple minutes. Why?’’
Mr. Felhske could find you in a snowstorm because Mr. Verde let someone put a tracking spell on your clubs.
‘‘I can guess who.’’
Correct. Director Relway. And Mr. Felhske received a trace key from someone inside the Al-Khar. I would not suggest that you operate unarmed, so you should replace the Verde sticks.
‘‘I’ve still got one old one in the tool closet.’’ My name for the household arsenal. ‘‘Which I’ll save for when I really don’t want to be tracked.’’ I didn’t care if the law watched me now. So why tip them off?
His Nibs radiated agreement.
I asked, ‘‘What’s that smell?’’
Felhske had begun to stage a comeback.
Dean brought more food. I ate some more and drank more beer.
The Dead Man sent,I am now done with the children. You may release them.
‘‘Really? Even . . . ?’’
Even Miss Algarda. I have done some inspired editing of her memories. I cannot turn her into someone she is not, but I am able to manipulate the knowledge she will be able to access.
I’d seen it done before. I expected to see it done again. ‘‘All right. Let me finish this sausage.’’ And, a minute later,
‘‘You kids get ready to go. I’ll go along, make sure you’re all right. I need to see Tinnie, anyway.’’
Kip and Kyra eyed each other like they’d been sentenced to remote and protracted prison terms. Each silently willed the other to do something.
‘‘Won’t do any good, guys. That’s the way it’s going to be.»
I did wonder how Kyra kept getting out. In fact, why were so many of the Faction so loosely supervised? Kevans in particular.
Kevans ought to have a parent in each pocket.
‘‘We need to make sure Kevans gets home safe, too.’’ That would take us a quarter hour out of our way.
I bundled up in my new fur coat and led the children outside. Along the way, in weather increasingly less unpleasant, Kip tried to distract me from what he feared was my determination to be a chaperone. He chattered on and on about ways to light the World.
For my part, I worried. I tried to make Kip understand how much he’d been used.
He wasn’t that upset.
Kevans was his friend. The rest mattered a lot less.
I have a few of those friends myself.
Kyra didn’t share Kip’s attitude. Kevans wasn’t her friend. And she was afraid that Kip and Kevans might have played at being more than just friends, once upon a time.
I cut them loose, telling Kip, ‘‘Go to the manufactory after you get Kyra home. Lie low there till I get things worked out with the Algardas.’’
He didn’t argue. He didn’t believe much of what Old Bones had dug out—he hadn’t been included in all the rotten details—but he was bright enough to understand that he was out of his depth.
He paused to hug Kevans. They mumbled to each other. Kyra seethed, in redhead Tate ‘‘thou shalt have no other anyone’’ fashion. Then Kip joined her and they headed off. I’d bet Kyra never let go all the way to the Tate compound.