Morley chuckled. "Don't worry about them. They're back there cleaning out Chodo's place."
I didn't have much to say. Let Morley think he'd covered me. He was a friend, sort of, and he'd tried. I guess it was his morCartha I'd sensed when I'd had that feeling of being watched. It had been him and Tharpe and the Tates in the boat that had followed me and Winger up the river. Let him think what he wanted. I was sure his contribution didn't mean much. Things couldn't have turned out much different, the nature of the greedy beast being what it is.
As we entered the city I asked Winger, "You still on Fido's payroll? I still have to go after that book."
"I don't think so." She was puffing.
I chuckled. "Want we should stop somewhere, get you a mule?"
"For what?" She did a good puzzled look.
"So you don't collapse. You must be lugging a hundred pounds of loot. I was amazed you kept up when we were chasing the Serpent."
She got huffy but denied nothing.
Hell, she clanked when she moved.
Morley was thoughtful. He observed, "We may be in for interesting times, what with the kingpin's spot up for grabs."
"Crask and Sadler are smarter than they act. Who could challenge them?"
"Each other."
Winger eyed him hard. "Is he that naive, Garrett?" I skipped answering because I'd figured those two out only recently myself. "Power changes people. Some get greedy."
"They're going to worry about the world, not each other."
"Whatever," Morley said. And: "All's well that ends well." We were in the Safety Zone then. "I've got to go see if I have a place left."
"Yeah," Saucerhead said "I better check in with Molly. She maybe might be a little worried. I never let her know what was up."
As he headed for his place a flight of thunder-lizards swept over. Only the pigeons got excited. Folk in the street scarcely noticed. That was TunFaire. Anything can happen so everyone gets used to everything quickly.
Winger clanked a little closer. She looked as bad as I felt. "Your friend was right. All's well that ends well."
"But this isn't over. I haven't taken care of that damned Book of Shadows."
"Let's get some shut-eye first, though. Eh?"
"I could handle a few weeks of that." I didn't have much energy left but there were loose ends. Tinnie. Carla Lindo. The book. Maybe Fido Easterman. Not to mention Crask and Sadler. But I couldn't concentrate on them. With home and bed so near, I was fading fast.
So. Trudge trudge, drag drag, off Wizard's Reach into Macunado Street... "Oh, hell! Now what?" I drifted over and parked the back of my lap on a neighbor's steps.
There was a crowd in front of my place, oohing and ahing. But the attraction wasn't anything as commonplace as flying thunder-lizards.
A huge character in star-spangled black floated twenty feet above the street, twisting and spinning and making motions like he was trying to swim. He didn't get anywhere. Fido Easterman.
He spotted Winger, started bellowing like a potato auctioneer.
I dragged myself to my feet, ambled closer. I noted that Fido's whole gang was with him, though no one else was airborne. The rest were in the street, stiff as hardened leather. Some, caught in midstride, had toppled.
"What the hell?" Winger said. "What the hell?"
"He pissed the Dead Man off somehow."
There were ogres on my stoop, also rigid. My door was open. Busted open. No wonder Old Bones was peckish.
I didn't hurt myself getting in a hurry. The Dead Man had it under control. I slithered through the crowd, stopped to eyeball Easterman.
"Get me down!"
"Why? You want more trouble than you've got?"
Easterman flailed at the air, snarled something about somebody was getting away, then started laying on the threats.
He popped up fifteen feet, then fell, howling. People scattered. He started darting around like a feeding bat. People clapped and cheered and yelled suggestions about what he should try next. He really had the Dead Man's goat.
I shouted, "What did you do? Try to break in? Why do a dumb thing like that?"
Fido glowered as he whizzed by.
The Dead Man tossed him high and let him fall till his nose was four inches from the pavement, then flipped him up again. How long had this been going on? The Dead Man's powers are amazing, but there are limits to his endurance.
"The book!" Easterman wailed. "I meant to snatch the book."
"I can understand that. I'd like to snatch it myself. But why bust up my place?"
He didn't have anything more to say. Not yet. The Dead Man set him spinning. He got busy dumping his last six meals. People scattered again, grumbling. This part of the show wasn't so attractive.
Winger told me, "He's always been convinced that you have the book hidden at home. That's why he sent me in the first place. To root around."
"Huh? Then he's even crazier than I thought. Don't go away, Fido." I headed for the house. Mounting the steps, I removed the big green litter there, tossing it into the gutter where it belonged.
They'd chopped my door all to hell. Dean could use it for kindling. I wasn't pleased.
The door to the small front room stood ajar. Had the Dead Man let them get that far before he reacted? No. Dean was in there. "Dean? What's the matter?" He was seated on the daybed, sniffling, fiddling with gray burlap he had wrapped around one hand.
He needed time to respond. "Oh! Mr. Garrett!" It was shock. "I tried to stop her. I couldn't."
Winger had invited herself aboard. She said, "He's been cut, Garrett." Yes. The floor between his feet was bloody.
I moved then, thinking he was badly hurt. But he wasn't. His left hand had been laid open to the bone, though, like he'd grabbed a blade. "What happened?"
"She took the book, Mr. Garrett. Right after those creatures tried to break in. I caught her unwrapping it. I tried to take it away
What was he babbling about? "What are you babbling about?" Then I spotted a torn brass page under his foot. The page that had cut his hand.
"That Book of Shadows. It was here all the time. Under the daybed. And she knew it."
She knew it? How did she know it? How come he hadn't found it while he was cleaning? We were maybe going to have to have a talk about his housekeeping. Under the daybed? How the hell did it get under there?
"Oh, my." I recalled a certain naked vision of a morning past. She'd carried a bundle wrapped in cloth like that wrapped around Dean's hand. I'd paid no attention because there'd been distractions. If I'd thought of that package at all, I'd assumed she'd taken it with her when she'd done her fade. "Carla Lindo grabbed it? She knew where it was and took off with it?"
Dean nodded.
I catch on real quick. "Winger, see what you can do about that hand. I need to go yell at my partner."
You had best not, the Dead Man sent as I charged into his den. I was as surprised as Dean.
"You couldn't be. You know the inside of everybody's head. You playing some kind of game?"
I was ignorant of what was happening at deeper levels of her mind, though now it is obvious that her principal motive for staying here was to locate and remain near the Book of Shadows. Note that I was unable to read the mind of the Serpent and unaware of the presence of the other while they were here in the guise of Carla Lindo Ramada. This suggests that there is something quite unusual about that young woman.
"Really?" I was angry. Needless to say. One half-wit thought after the naked woman's departure and I could have saved us all a peck of trouble. I could have poked around, found the book, and destroyed it publicly. End of excitement. But no! I had to let myself get distracted by acres and acres of redheads.