Same dwarf or not, he had the same talent for public relations. "You Tall Ones are all alike. Think nobody's got nothing better to do than hop when you say frog, even in the middle of the night. All right. All right. If you must. If you insist. Himself, the very Gnorst, said bring you if you turn up again." His manner suggested he thought his boss was a damned fool.
I stepped inside. "Whoa. Let me close that." I pushed the door shut, to a crack, peeked outside.
Whoever was out there didn't show himself. This was starting to spook me. I'd known only one man that good. He'd died. And there wasn't any doubt he was still dead.
Gnorst met me in the same garden Maybe that was the only place outsiders were entertained. "How can I help you tonight, Mr. Garrett?"
"Just checking in I wondered if you'd learned anything since we talked."
He shook his head. "Not one damned thing." Man. He lied with such style I wanted to believe him anyway. You got to admire a character who can jerk you around and make you like it. Only I didn't like it. He almost snarled as he said, "I would have sent a message if I had. I thought I told you I would."
Oh really? When? "None of your people knew anything?"
"No"
"That's curious."
"How so?"
"There've been fights amongst dwarves all day. We've had dead dwarves turning up everywhere. I'd have sworn some were yours."
"You're a victim of your prejudices and preconceptions, Mr. Garrett. Gods bring on the hour when you stop thinking we all look alike,"
I could plead guilty except the little clown was trying to divert attention. He was lying. I knew he was lying. He knew I knew he was lying. He knew I knew he knew, and so forth. But this was his house and no place to challenge him.
I said, "When I came here before, I didn't know anything about any Book of Shadows or what dwarves might have to do with making one. Right'?"
Gnorst nodded. "Agreed. So?"
"You think finding out would make me more dangerous to somebody?"
"Possibly. Not many nondwarves know the story Even among us it's mostly forgotten. It has been said by the wise, knowledge is dangerous."
"That's what I thought
"Sneaking up on something, Mr Garrett?"
I thought some before I explained. I wanted it to stay airborne when I shoved it out of the nest, though it would never soar. "The bad boys paid me no attention before I came down here They've been trying to kill me ever since I walked back out. Makes a guy wonder. How was I different? How did they know? Not to mention how come is it that all these skirmishes between dwarf gangs keep turning out inconclusive?"
Gnorst darkened behind his face fur. He started pacing. "I did hear about you being attacked up the street. I didn't put it together before. Yes. I see your point. One of your points. They weren't keeping an eye on you, but all of a sudden, they knew you'd seen me and had become a danger Though it leaves me embarrassed and ashamed, Mr. Garrett, I must admit that it looks like one of my people is an informer."
Putting it mildly. "That's my guess."
"Out of curiosity, Mr. Garrett, how is it that you're alive to visit me again? I would think that dwarfish efficiency would extend to setting an ambush.
"I got lucky. Chodo Contague's men turned up the first time. Second time I started running before they started sniping. I hope there won't be a next time. I hope they're on the run from whoever has been hitting their hideouts."
He chuckled. It wasn't a nice sound. It was a noise something like the glug-glug of water coming from a ten-gallon bottle crossed with fingernails scraping a slate board.
"I don't find any of this amusing."
"I'm sure you don't, Mr. Garrett. What are you doing?"
I was sneaking toward the edge of the roof. "Somebody's been following me I thought I might get a look at him from here."
I didn't, though. It was so damned dark down there he could have danced in the street without me getting a look I lied, "So that's mainly the reason I came by. To let you know I think you've got a spy on board."
Gnorst grunted irritably. My experience is, his kind are naturally crabby. Gnorst was a paragon of manners and patience. Maybe that was why he was the local boss dwarf. He told me, "You didn't bring me any news I wanted to hear. Now I have to deal with it."
It's hard to read a being who grew up in an alien culture yet looks human enough to make you jump to conclusions. But I had a strong suspicion Gnorst was a lot less unhappy than he wanted me to believe. Maybe he thought having a renegade handy was an asset. I could think of ways that would be true.
"I know what you mean. I've been a regular fountain of bad news all day. Everywhere I go I'm telling somebody something they don't want to hear."
We fenced awhile with words. He wouldn't give up a thing I could use. I surrendered to the inevitable, told him I was going to go dump it all on the Dead Man. He let me go without another word. He wasn't as gracious as he'd been. That questionable attitude infected my guide. The dwarf took no pains to make my passage through the place a comfort.
I froze the moment I hit the street, looked around carefully. Garrett don't get bitten by the same snake twice. I saw nothing. Even so, I moved away ready for anything.
Nothing ever happens when you're ready.
The silence overhead seemed almost ominous. The morCartha had retired, for whatever reason. I almost missed them. They had become part of city life.
29
I had the night to myself. Unless you count sharing with a tail. It wasn't a happy feeling. Empty streets always mean trouble to me.
Whoever was after me was spooky. I only ever knew one guy that good, Pokey Pigotta. Maybe this was Pokey's ghost.
I'd outthought Pokey once when he'd been on me. Maybe I could use the trick again. It was hard to beat for a guy working alone. I looked for a busy tavern I knew would have a back door.
Not my day. It didn't work. I didn't catch anybody sliding in the front door by sprinting around from the back. It was like the guy was psychic. All I accomplished was to let whoever know I knew he was there. Go match wits with a rock, Garrett. Chances are the rock will come out ahead.
Having somebody dog you works on your head. You start out wondering who and why. Pretty soon you're into what if and then imagination flares and you've got a vampire or werewolf or ghoul pack just waiting for you to walk down a dark alley with your eyes closed.
There ain't no comforting thoughts, come a dark night.
Hell with the clown. Let him walk his behind off. He didn't seem interested in messing with me, just in seeing what I got me up to. If I kept moving, he'd have no rime to report to whoever sicked him on me.
I was tired and depressed and short on zest for life. Maybe even a little cranky. I get that way when things keep on not going my way. Call me spoiled.
I was near the Bledsoe Infirmary, a charity hospital supported by surviving descendants of the old imperial family, when I sensed a change in the night. It wasn't obvious, just a difference. Nothing I could pin down. My shadow was there still. The morCartha weren't making much racket. Random flying thunder-lizards still ghosted overhead, chasing bats. The streets remained underpopulated. I wondered if it might not be some holiday among the night people
I paused to consider the Bledsoe, a monument to good intentions having become a symbol of despair. A place of fear, where the poor went to die and the mad screamed out their souls in overcrowded, locked wards. The imperial family did all they could, but their best wasn't enough. Their money and donations of labor barely kept it from falling down. It was huge, gray, ugly, and may have been imposing in its prime, a couple of hundred years ago. Now it was just another shabby old building, bigger than but no better than ten thousand others in TunFaire.