She was nervous. She was getting close to chattering, which was how it showed. "Hell, no, I'm not. But I have to take my shot. If people haven't lied to me too much, tonight's the only night I'll ever have half a chance of doing what I've got to do." I told her about the supposed party.
"There's our edge right there. Even if the guy knows we're coming, he's giving up some advantage if he doesn't cancel his party."
Chodo wouldn't. He was a character who wouldn't let the gods themselves nudge him into changing his plans. "Guess we take what we can get." I was getting more down by the minute.
"Won't get nothing done sitting here."
"Sure. Back in a jiffy." I went across and got the amulet stone from the Dead Man's room, wondering what the hell a jiffy was He didn't have anything to say. I rolled upstairs and outfitted myself as well as I could from my depleted arsenal. I included the little padded case with the bottles. This was no time to wimp out. I'd do what I had to.
Winger awaited in the office doorway, eyes sort of glazed. I frowned. She'd had another run-in with the Dead Man. What now? I didn't ask.
Being a born gentleman, I opened and held the front door for her. Even if she was a Saucerhead type in physical drag. She stepped outside. "You hang on here."
"What?"
She eyed the street. "Wait here." She took off down the steps and up the street Fast. She ran without throwing her arms and legs all over, the way so many women do.
I closed the door and leaned against the wall, trying to stay awake, trying to avoid thinking about my aches and pains
A knock. I peeked Winger's eye stared back at me. She backed off only far enough for me to see her grin. I opened up.
She had a dwarf slung over her shoulder, out cold. "He was a feisty little bugger "
"Huh?"
"He was watching your place Thought you might want to talk to him before we shove off."
"Bring him back here." I led the way to the Dead Man's room. "Hey, Chuckles. You want to take a look at this and tell me what we've got9"
A dwarf.
"What an eye. Could you maybe give me a little something more?"
He has been watching the house for about three hours. My old friend Gnorst sent him. 1 will send him back bearing a strong prote3t.
"Wonderful. You do that Why was he on us?"
In case you locate the Book of Dreams, I presume.
"Anything else useful?"
He was selected for his lack of direct knowledge.
Naturally. Gnorst knew the Dead Man. Wasn't much point putting the little hairball through the wringer. "See you later, then."
Have you come to an accommodation with your conscience?
"A man's got to do what a man's got to do." He got a chuckle out of that. Right. My moral discomfitures always amuse him. He'd have no trouble slicing Chodo into cold cuts.
"I can do it. The alternative is unacceptable."
A sneer radiated from that pile of lifeless lard.
"He's the one made it him or me."
You need not justify. The day has been inevitable for some time. He and I knew. Mr. Dotes and Mr. Tharpe knew. Mr. Crask and Mr. Sadler knew. Only you insisted on pretending otherwise.
Hell, I'd known it, too. I'd hoped it would come to a more clear-cut case of good guy against bad guy, though.
Take care, Garrett,
"I plan to."
41
I followed Winger once we hit the street, lost in my own thoughts. After a few blocks, she asked, "You scared?"
"Yes." I was. Nothing to be ashamed of. A body who wasn't afraid of a Chodo Contague was a damned fool. Or worse.
"Thought you were a heavyweight tough guy."
"I eat nails with acid on them for breakfast, Then I kick thunder-lizards around for my morning workout. Hell, I'm so tough I don't change my socks but once a month. But tough don't help when the kingpin is after you and your only pal can't get out of his chair to help."
She was amused
I asked, "You sure you know who Chodo is?"
"Sure. Bad mojo" She laughed. "Doing him will be good for my reputation."
"His reputation doesn't bother you?"
"Who needs to live forever?"
I slipped the little padded case out of my pocket. I eyed those little bottles. The red one, the deadliest, seemed to sparkle all by itself.
"What's that?"
"Something left over from another job. Might come in handy."
"So don't tell me
"I won't. Knowing you, you might knock me over the head and grab them. This way I can feel confident that if you pull something, you'll kill yourself messing with them."
"You're a suspicious wart
"Helped me reach the ripe old age of thirty. Where the hell are we going?" She was headed south instead of north.
"I told you, I made arrangements. Figured we'd come in from a direction nobody'll expect."
"Like what?"
"I got us a boat We'll go up the river to the Portage. From there it's four miles over a range of hills, mostly through vineyards, to Chodo's place."
I groaned. I was dragging already. Every ache and pain was still with me I'd taken a powder for those and the headache, but relief was marginal.
"I take it you ain't overwhelmed by my brilliance."
"Ha. That's the trouble with being a boss, Winger. Whatever you do, you're always in the wrong. Whatever you do is dumb and could be done better, faster, cheaper, by your minions."
She got a laugh out of that. "I noticed that when I went to work for Easterman. My smarts level went way up."
"Probably because you knew he had to be dumb to hire you."
"You got such a line of sweet talk."
The boat was one of those usually devoted to ferrying people to the east bank, to the side sometimes called Nether TunFaire. Winger had chosen one run by a breed family with no prejudice against rowing upriver if we paid in advance. I paid up and snuggled down amongst cargo and sails and closed my eyes. I might still get my nap.
Winger seemed content to do the same.
The chief ferryman stirred me with his toe. His name was Skid. He was about a hundred years old but spry. The river life was healthy. I snorted and gurgled and otherwise made it seem my intelligence approximated that of a turtle, cracked an eye, and asked, "We there already?"
"Nope. Got a boat following us. Shouldn't be." Maybe Skid was still alive because he hadn't used up his ration of words
Winger was one of those freaks of nature who just open their eyes and are wide-awake. She was upright, looking aft, before I managed to sit up.
"Where?" I could see lights back there, sure. On about two hundred boats, most of them just like our own, what landlubbers politely call bumboats, home and business for the families operating them
Skid got down so I could sight along his arm. "Skylar Zed's tub. Works the east-west, same as us. Don't come north
"Oh " I couldn't see the boat he wanted me to see, let alone tell who owned it. I faked it. I told Winger, "This is getting irritating
She grunted. She'd sprawled out again, completely without self-consciousness. She reminded me of Saucer-head more and more, Yet she was different Less intense, more relaxed. Tharpe does worry about what people might think. Winger plain didn't care—or faked that so well it made no difference, I guess when you're as oversize as she is, you make adjustments.
I looked some more. At least in the light of the running lamps there was nothing wrong with the way she looked. She was just big. "Hey. Tell me about Winger." I wasn't sleepy anymore.
"What's to tell? I was born and I'm still around. What you see is what you get."
"The usual stuff. Where are you from? Who were your people? How come you're out here with me instead of holed up somewhere with a house full of little Wingers?"
"Where'd you come from, Garrett? Who're your people? How come you're here instead of back to your place with a pack of little Garretts?"