"Bet you're surprised to see me in a dress."
"Yeah." Kind of a half-breed croak and squeak. I was in pain. I didn't dare beg for mercy. That outfit should have been illegal. It was a deadly weapon.
"A dress? Is that what that is?" Carla Lindo asked.
Winger's grin vanished. I got between the women fast. "Peace. Child's new in town."
"Who is that dung beetle, Garrett? Just so I can apologize polite like after I squish her into frog food."
"Easy. She's a friend of your boss."
"He ain't got no friends. That old spook—"
The old man caught up with her. He grabbed on to her arm and hung there puffing like he'd sprinted six miles. However dire his message, he couldn't squeeze it out. In fact, he lost his grip and started to go down on his beak.
Winger caught him by the scruff and hoisted him up. "Watch out you don't kill yourself, Pop."
Carla Lindo stared at the old man. She wanted to say something, too, but couldn't
"You come to see the boss, Garrett?"
"Yes."
"Right. Then what I got can wait a couple. Maybe when we don't got so many mouse ears around." She turned the old man around and headed for home, holding him up with one hand. He kept trying to say something but couldn't get it out. His collar was choking him.
"What was that?" Carla Lindo finally managed.
"That was Winger. Try not to aggravate her. She's kind of like an earthquake. Not a whole lot of self-restraint."
"1 believe it," in a tone of total disbelief. Then, "Look at that!" as excited as a little kid Her attention span wasn't much longer than Winger's.
I looked.
Easterman had him a dragon.
A flying thunder-lizard was tethered atop the battlements of the runt black castle. It was being tended by a whole gang of morCartha doing their best to look like little devils. Easterman had them outfitted in some kind of suits but I couldn't make out details. When they realized we were watching, they started howling and carrying on. The thunder-lizard started screeching. It seemed more bewildered than put out.
Carla asked, "Isn't that neat?"
I was beginning to wonder about that girl. "The loonies have taken over Maybe I ought to start cutting out paper dolls and practicing talking backward."
Carla Lindo didn't get it.
Winger dropped the old man inside the entrance. He had caught his breath and, despite all, had lost none of his dignity "If you will follow me, sir? And madame." Some kind of look passed between him and Carla Lindo.
What now?
He led us to the room where I'd met Easterman before. The place had changed. A wall or two had been knocked out to make it bigger and it had been redecorated in black and red. They'd brought in a big ugly black throne carved all over with the ugly sisters of those gals you wake up with the morning after a night when you drank one gallon of popskull too many. There was a lot of indirect, shifting red light that was supposed to make you think it had been piped in from Hell itself. And the resident mental basket case had added some new employees to the payroll. They included six of the biggest, ugliest, fangiest ogres I've ever seen. Tittering morCartha in formal evening wear were all over the place.
Easterman's regulars, the old thugs with seniority, seemed embarrassed by the company they were keeping. One actually whispered, "He pays real good."
"God, I hope so." I began to wonder if Fido hadn't picked out Winger's wardrobe.
Easterman waited till he could make an entrance.
The fat man had him a new outfit, too. He'd chosen a few square miles of red accented with acres of black, I realized the black consisted entirely of little eyes.
Oh, my. Every eye was alive and looking around, blinking, or maybe winking over some private joke.
Easterman struggled up the steps of his throne, finally fell into its seat. There's why I'm running, I told myself. So I don't get like that... Oh, my, all over again. When his well-larded behind hit the seat, all those uglies carved on the throne got excited and started whispering to each other.
I gaped and gawked and wondered how he had come up with all this when he couldn't enchant a rock into falling down, Then I got worried. Had he won the race? Had he grabbed the Book of Dreams?
I'd almost rather Chodo laid hands on it first. Chodo was predictable.
Fido got himself settled. He beamed down benevolently More or less. "Mr. Garrett. I'm so happy you came calling, sir. What do you think, sir?" He gestured. "Is this not an impressive setting?"
"Yeah. It's that." It was. "But I'm kind of partial to the old setup. Know what I mean?" It was only ninetypercent whacko before.
"We must change with the times, sir. We must change with the times, These present changing times are intriguing, are they not, sir? Here you are, an appellant, when but a short time ago you turned your back on me, a strutting cock. Yes sir, changing times
Carla Lindo gave me a puzzled look. I guess she didn't know about my earlier chat with Fido. I asked, "Where did you get the idea I came here to beg for something?" That fat clown had my nerves frayed already. I should have been amused, should have had trouble keeping a straight face, but something kept making me want to hop up there and plant a boot in his face.
Not a smart move with all those ogres there to save his jowls.
"Plague!"
The old man did the hopping.
Easterman and the old guy traded melodramatic whispers while taking turns staring at me. Fido's gaze flicked to Carla Lindo. He started looking puzzled. I had the impression he'd expected me to drop on my knees and crawl. I wasn't and didn't look like I would and maybe had no idea why I was supposed to.
Puzzled turned to troubled, Easterman stared at me, eyes narrowed more than seemed possible. "Are you making mock, sir?"
‘I'm not doing anything but standing here. I don't know what your problem is, Fido. Sorry I'm not doing what you expect. I just dropped by with my friend Carla Lindo to ask who all you told about her business here in town."
"What?"
"Miss Ramada stayed here when she first came to TunFaire, right9 She asked who could help her find a little bauble somebody swiped from her dad...
"I've never seen this woman before, sir."
"People told her to come to me. Right? So..." I stopped chattering.
Fido popped up and glared around. He eyeballed Carla Lindo. He sputtered. Spit flew. For a second I thought he was going to have a seizure
I didn't really get it till Carla Lindo unfroze and started tugging on my arm and shaking her head Long after the whole herd of cats had flown out of the bag. She maybe stayed here, but old Fido hadn't been in on it.
Easterman started roaring endearing sobriquets like Famine, War, and Pestilence. He took a moment out to tell his ogres, "Get that man out of here! I don't want to look at his ugly face another second." Then he went to foaming at the mouth.
Well. I never. Ugly? Maybe a little battered around the edges, but the dogs don't howl... . I didn't wait for the ogres. I latched on to Carla Lindo and headed for the exit. No sense dancing with those boys. The mood I was in, suddenly I'd have tried to break a head or three. I wouldn't have been able to do the job justice before the sky collapsed on me.
"That was real bright, Garrett," Carla Lindo said as soon as we hit the street. "You have a real golden tongue."
"You could have told me something up front. You could have given me one teensy hint. The Dead Man is the mind reader, not me." I spun around and dared an ogre to bring it out into the street. He looked over his shoulder to see how much help he'd get. He had no cavalry on the way. He just waved bye-bye. An ogre with sense. The times they are a-changing.